singillatim | Hot Potato (party log)

Who: Chloe Frazer & any and all party people!!
What: Harvest Celebrations/Halloween Party/Ruby’s Birthday/Rat Marriage/Big Communal Cooking Party so Chloe doesn't burn down her house
When: October 12
Where: At Chloe’s house on Greene Street

Content Warnings: Food descriptions, probably.
Other Notes: Feel free to make this a mingle and reply to other characters!

Chloe had wondered whether to go through with the harvest party once Lalo had disappeared, but as they say, the show must go on. There's still a lot worth celebrating, and people need something hopeful after the mess last month. Luckily her house had made it through everything all right.

The poster had said to wear a costume, so she's hoping to see a lot of those, and she’d recruited some people to help her put together the menu exactly to Lalo’s specifications, so unfortunately no one is safe from British Potatoes. There are even candles for the birthday cake.

Chloe herself is dressed as a sexy lumberjack, with one of Lalo’s old flannels tied in a knot under her breasts and denim cutoffs made from the jeans Kostya had gotten blood on (shh). She's got a fire roaring, because otherwise she’d freeze.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's a little later on, perhaps midway through the party, that Levi emerges outside again, having spotted the pointy-eared weirdo -- the undead pointy-eared weirdo, apparently -- outside standing guard earlier. Levi had left his frozen deer head on a stick outside so it wouldn't melt and stink up the place, which he supposed made for some morbid company, but the guy didn't seem to mind.

He's carrying a drink and a plate with a fork and a small piece of the cake -- the plate may or may not be paper, depending which were easier to find around these parts. Nonetheless, he offers both to the self-appointed bouncer, his flat expression and mild tone betraying nothing, though perhaps this very act speaks for itself.

"You do still eat, right?"

Quite the opposite of minding his inanimate companion, Illarion finds it downright homey. A little too much flesh still on the skull, but meat and bone were both part of a proper harvest. There really should've been more skulls around. Antlers, bone chimes...

His mind might've been wandering, a little--wool-gathering to stave off thoughts of eating whatever's left on the skull, or (worse) trespassing in the party long enough to find some of the menu's promised venison. He's been more hungry than usual, lately, and his shoulder's not mending as fast as it should.

So the offering of cake (food, company, welcome)--that surely does speak louder than words. Illarion's eyes go to the plate first, then to its holder. Smile, he thinks to himself, and manages the expression after a second or two.

"Only flesh. When I'm healing." He looks back down at the cake. It's not appealing beyond the memory that it would be, were he alive and this hungry.

That's still more than nothing. Even if it won't do him any good. "Been thinking about eating your costume, actually."

He doesn't have to force himself to smile for Levi of all people; he doesn't return it, in fact, his face seems practically still aside from his eyes which dart between the cake, Illarion, himself -- a moment of confusion there, slight frown -- and then finally land on the deer head in the snow.

He puts the plate and glass on the windowsill and leans down to pluck the deer stick from the snow, holding it out toward the other. He's not entirely sure whether the man is telling the truth or joking, but he supposes he's about to find out.

"Have at it," he says evenly. "I have no use for it past today anyway."

Hot Potato (party log)

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