[ closed ] a very merry cadens christmas

[falcony]

Who: sam wilson + free cities fam
When: end of december
Where: cadens, magpie's inn.
What: the dimming might be it's own, abraxas-related holiday, but the christmas spirit is in the air and sam will NOT be spending it alone. time for a big family dinner!!
Warnings: language, possibly drunken singing, chaos.

It's hardly an uneventful time of year, but at this point Sam is used to that. Christmas or not, celebration of science or not, the homesickness hits Sam hard. But, thanks to a few more recent events, Sam decides that maybe - just maybe - he shouldn't try and push that feeling away and ignore its existence, choosing instead to channel it into a-

Wilson Christmas Feast.

He goes about inviting everyone he can think of - giving them an understanding of the vibe, the meal itself, who all will be there. It's planned to be a casual affair, with Sam cooking and plenty of alcohol and maybe some Christmas carols (don't worry, he'll explain those too). Come by for as long as you want, or as little as you want - Magpie's given them free rein of the main floor of the inn, and the kitchens beyond. Also, because Sam is just that charming and persuasive, the entire place is decked out with as many Christmas-y looking decorations as Sam could get his hands on. Garlands, candles, maybe even some mistletoe? It's got a bit of a Dickens old school vibe, but he did his best and it doesn't really need to impress Martha Stewart over here, right?

Bring your own cheer! Or an extra dish to add to the pile - Sam's got the main course (there is definitely an entire pig on that table) covered, but the rest is up to y'all. Drink, eat, be merry - Sam is playing host once again, and Jaskier is probably playing music, let's be real. Beyond that, everyone mingle. Hang out. Realize how small the Free Cities can be. We're all friends! Tis the season!

Comments

[rinwell]

Hmmm, I dunno. [there's a giggle as Rinwell peers around towards Castiel.] I don't remember voting for you!

[ That IS how kings are chosen on worlds that aren't Rena, right? There's a distinct lack of crown contest on Abraxas for her to otherwise compare it to, so Rinwell doesn't even try.

She's seated on the other side of Ciri, giggly from the different drinks her found family have casually recommended over the course of the Christmas feast, and Hootle burbles happily from where he sits atop her head as an Owl Crown of her very own. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri laughs, giving Castiel a pat on the head when he doesn't let the decoration fall. With that, she falls back into her own chair by Rinwell, tucking her legs up underneath herself and leaning her elbows on one of the chair arms.

Rinwell's giggling is infections. Ciri reaches out, on a whim, to brush her knuckles along the girl's cheek. It's warm, flushed with drink and the heat from the nearby hearth. Cute. She's glad to see Rinwell laughing so much.

Her gaze turns to Castiel, lazily amused. Ciri is also pink-cheeked from the wine and the fire, draped comfortably like a cat. ]

As sovereign, what would your command be? If it is unjust, your subjects might riot.