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Cafeteria | Afternoon | Thursday | November 25

It was Thanksgiving Day. It was time for parades, football and food. Currently, Alex was leaning against one of the walls in the kitchen, watching the catering company set up for dinner. There was a shitload of food and his stomach growled just watching.

It was good to be president. He got to delegate everything.

When one of the caterers stepped forward and thrust a plastic wrapped garment bag in his hand, Alex frowned.

"What?"

"Outfits for the dinner," the caterer said. "The contract states that we make and you serve the food. No fulfillment of the contract, no food."

Confused, Alex unzipped the bag and peeked inside. The costume was not cool at all.

"Are you serious?" Alex asked, glaring. "No way!"

"No costumes," the caterer said, already signaling his workers to get ready to package the food up, "no food."

Alex continued glaring at the caterer and the costume. He hated his life.

[OCD is up and this is posted early for SP, of course!]

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Jonothon had no plate, and therefore, he had nothing on it. What good would that do?

But everybody had been gearing up for this stupid American holiday that he cared nothing about, and all he'd heard about for the past week was Thanksgiving this, and holiday that, and 'what are you thankful for?'

And somehow... it just would have seemed weird for him to avoid the entire bloody ordeal, with all of that in mind. So he'd taken a seat at an empty table, far on the other side of the room from the food, and he watched everyone else enjoying themselves. There was no harm in being there, after all.

"Does Alex not look quite--spectacular?" Rosalind asked, coming over at some point.

Because he was there and it was obvious he needed company of some sort.

Well, naturally. Jonothon didn't go to events and sit around looking all antisocial under the assumption that people wouldn't visit him, after all.

//Stunning, really. He looks positively... Puritan.//

Jono was managing by some miracle to keep from laughing, even!

"It suits him," Rosalind decided, "to a T."

//The hat is certainly a nice touch,// Jonothon mused. //Not that I'd care for one of my own, really. I've got enough layers on as it is.//

"He attempted to have me wear it," she shared, dryly. "I forewent that honour."

Jono paused for a moment, eyeing Rosalind thoughtfully.

//I don't think it'd go well with yer eyes,// he decided.

He was teasing.

She rolled those eyes. Just for his sake.

"That's not a nice thing to say."

Like she cared.

//You'd rather I tell you that it suits you, then? And it's a shame you turned him down?//

He had you there, Rosalind.

She sniffed, but had to admit: "No."

Really, no.

"Perhaps you should wear the hat."

//Mmm, no, I think that'd be a terrible idea,// Jonothon decided. //I'm not American enough to get into costume to celebrate their holiday. I'll find some other hat, perhaps, but it'd be a sin and shame to deprive Alex of such dashing headgear.//

"And he didn't understand how it could be evil to refuse to take it," she mused. "You understand."

//That's because I'm such a terribly understanding individual,// Jono replied. It was his lack of mouth that made it so easy for him to say that with a straight face, and that alone.

"More than you'd care to be at times," Rosalind retorted mildly, glancing over at the rest of the people here.

//True, true,// Jonothon agreed, shrugging his shoulders a little. //Can't have everything, I suppose.//

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Cafeteria | Afternoon | Thursday | November 25

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