feast & after-party ♔ empty my heart | i've got to make room for this feeling

[wynn]

♬ Can't Take It In - Imogen Heap

WHO || Wynn, the new Squires, any and all Knights
WHAT || Squiring Ceremony Feast & Afterparty
WHERE || Knights Headquarters, the Dining Hall & Ballroom
WHEN || February 9th, 2012, 7:00PM / 9:00 PM
HOW || Prose OR Actionspam

While every dinner served in the Knights' exceptionally large Dining Hall manages to have a sense of occasion, given the sheer quantity of food necessary to serve the hundreds who take their meals there, the 'feast' Wynn's ordered for after this squiring party outdoes the norm. It's not a problem to produce so much food at the drop of the hat when mages can magically summon up entire banquets, and so the room teems over with the smells and spices of hundreds of unique dishes. Centerpieces built with peacock feathers and sweet smelling flowers dot the table at intervals. A silver cage in the very middle of the table includes several live birds, their feet and tufts each appearing to be silver as well. A banner hangs from the top of the cage, with the Knight's symbol of a black dragon on a silver field.

The food has a distinctly medieval flair to it today, which several of the older Shadowkind Knights express their boisterous appreciation for as they dive in. The first course consists of a civet of hare, a quarter of salted stag, a stuffed chicken and a loin of veal, the latter two covered with a German sauce with gilt sugar-plums and pomegranate seeds. At each end of the table is an enormous pie, surmounted with smaller pies, which form a crown. The crust of the large ones is silvered all round and gilt at the top; each contains a whole roe-deer, a gosling, three capons, six chickens, ten pigeons, and one young rabbit. Serving as seasoning or stuffing, a minced loin of veal, two pounds of fat, and twenty-six hard-boiled eggs, covered with saffron and flavoured with cloves.

A second course follows: aroe-deer, a pig, a sturgeon cooked in parsley and vinegar, and covered with powdered ginger; a kid, two goslings, twelve chickens, as many pigeons, six young rabbits, two herons, a leveret, a fat capon stuffed, four chickens covered with yolks of eggs and sprinkled with spiced powder de Duc, and even a wild boar.

Next came wafers and stars; a jelly, part white and part blue. A fourth course of cream with Duc powder, covered with fennel seeds preserved in sugar; a white cream, cheese in slices, and strawberries; and, lastly, plums stewed in rose-water.

Besides these four courses, there's a fifth, entirely composed of wines, and of preserves, which consist of fruits and various sweet pastries in the shapes of dragons.

---------------------------

Following this, assuming anyone is still capable of moving at all is the after-party: a black-tie affair in the lavish, opulent ballroom, every new Knight's chance to mingle and meet some of their new brothers in arms. Per usual, a couple hours are provided following the feast for everyone to change, do hair and makeup, and choose from the vast array of formal attire in the closets of the balcony "dressing rooms" located at the top of spiraled staircases on either side of the ballroom. A separate dressing room exists for men and women, and they include full bathrooms (with, thankfully, very modern plumbing).

The squires are usually among the last to arrive, and the ballroom is full to the brim with a fancy array of people, of all shapes, sizes and species.

Hope none of you are shy. They're all here to meet you. 

All open feast threads should be made under the FEAST heading below. Any other threads below will be for the after-party. Feel free to make your own open threads for people to come congratulate your newly pledged knight.

Comments

[slays]

[ She look a little baffled by that -- okay, granted, she hadn't exactly gotten cozy in Jack's personal space, but if Spike's knight was going to operate out of his hut, he should treat it like an office, right? ]

What, he repelled you with the power of his stench? [ There's a chuckle at that. ] I mean, okay, maybe barging in anyway wouldn't be the polite thing to do, but if you ask me, he started the lack of polite, and you would've been totally justified.

[bigbad]

[Spike looks a bit embarrassed.] I couldn't get past him. [Or cross the threshold at all, but Buffy's welcome to think it meant Lan stood in the doorway blocking Spike's way. It's better than 'I'm an undead creature of the night and can't go in without an invitation'.] Though the stench bit too.

[slays]

Well, in the interest of optimism, at least that means you're bound to learn a lot? I mean, if he's tough enough to keep you out.

[technophobic]

[And Lan is just going to loudly speak up from a few seats down, addressing his comment to Spike oh so casually, but making it clear he's heard every bit of it.] Now if only this were roasted over a good open fire. Don't you think, boy?

[bigbad]

[First the decapitation threats and now this. Spike really, really hates this guy.]

Maybe a real stove's too much of a luxury for a backwards woodsman like yourself, but some of us prefer not burning the house down. [Also? Flammable vampire here. Not that Spike intends on sharing that bit of info.]

[slays]

[ ... Oh, God. Awkward. She sure is caught in the middle of this. And she sure is ... catching on that smelly guy diagonal from her is ... smelly knight that Spike is squired to. She slowly lowers her fork, trying to somehow disappear from her seat and seeming to believe it will happen if she'd quiet enough. But it doesn't. So, she tries to referee. ]

I'm sure that Sir ... uh ... Whatever. Knows how to roast without burning anything down. I bet he could even teach you. [ She turns to give Spike a strained look that says omg shut up and be nice. X( ]

[technophobic]

Lanston Charles Montgomery Wingates Wellington. [He announces his name proudly, fixing a narrowed eye in Spike's direction]

And cooking is women's work.

[bigbad]

[He widens his eyes innocently at Buffy's look, but he does look... a bit chastised. Then Lan proves that he is not only an ass, he's a sexist ass, and... Spike doesn't know Buffy that well, but as a strong and independent seeming woman, he doubts she'll be okay with it. So he just raises his eyebrows in Lan's direction and lets Buffy handle this one.]

[slays]

[ Buffy doesn't immediately glance back at Lan. Her expression shifts into a cold, almost disbelieving look, and her jaw tenses as she slowly cranes her head back toward him. ]

Excuse me?

[technophobic]

[He doesn't seem to notice or curr about her sudden bitchy expression] I said it's a woman's job to prepare the meat for a meal.

[everyredcent]

[Next to Lan, Christos quirks a brow, glancing down that way as he raises a fork to his mouth. But he says nothing. He's smarter than that.]

[bigbad]

[Spike leans a little towards Buffy.] See what I mean? Backwards woodsman.

[slay]

[ Spike is getting entirely disregarded because Buffy is launching into huffy self-righteous mode. At the end of the day, even amnesia can't make her more demure. ]

Did I miss a memo about stepping into the 18th century? Because I'm pretty sure there'd be some kinda jet lag. In case you didn't notice, Sir Smells-A-Lot, you're surrounded by women who do a heck of a lot more than prepare meals, and you know what? They manage to do it despite you being a -- a prejudiced ass, and without smelling like something died.

1/2

[everyredcent]

[In the sudden sweeping silence that seems to run like wildfire along the table in the nearby vicinity, Christos' sharp laugh is only all the more evident. Oops.]

[technophobic]

[

Yeah, pretty much this.

He stares down at her for a second, before just saying:]

You'll want to watch your tone, lass.

[bigbad]

Well said, love.

[EVERYONE BE SURPRISED THAT SPIKE IS COMING DOWN TEAM: BUFFY. And Team: anti-Lan. Yep. Full of surprises, this one. Anyway, he grins up at her, then glances over at Lan.]

She's got a point.

[slay]

[ Still being ignored because she's not done yet. And, she sure doesn't watch her tone. At all. In fact she's not even a little deterred by the silence and Christos' laughter. ]

Or what, you'll force me to make you a sandwich as punishment? No. I'm not watching my tone.

Have the other knights around here seriously let you get away with acting like this? If anyone should be watching it, it's you. Do you even realize what's coming out of your mouth, or did you not even stop to think about it?

[technophobic]

I said nothing about what women could not do, did I? [He i just looking at her like she's scum under his shoe, either way] Are you going to try and tell me that it's a man job to bear children as well, next?

[slay]

I didn't realize a uterus was involved in cooking. [ There's a huff. ] It's a man's job not to act like a pig. Not that your impression isn't great and all, but I think it's time you laid off.

1/2

[technophobic]

[There's the unmistakable sound of his chair SCRAPING backwards suddenly, which manages to hush another huge section of the table who looks down thataway]

If you think I won't throw a tarty wench into the pond when it's half frozen over...

[ironsides]

[And another chair scrapes beside him, Dovan nearly knocking over his mug as he reaches out to grab Lan's arm] Now, now, there's no need for gettin' violent with the lady...

[slay]

[ And a third scrape, because now Buffy is getting to her feet. Except it's a lot less dramatic because she is 5'3" and probably doesn't weigh more than a buck ten. ]

Clearly Sir Full of Himself disagrees with you there. Besides, I'm hardly a lady. I'm not in the kitchen, like a proper gal oughtta be. I mean, hey, we're all knights here.

[ She drops her hands out to her side in a come at me bro kind of gesture. ] Try me. I'd love to see your face when you get beat by a tarty wench in front of all your pals. 'Cause, if you ask me, you're the one that could use the cool down.

[bigbad]

[Okay, Spike's been enjoying the hell out of Buffy yelling at Sir Smells-a-lot, (what? It's a great nickname!) but the time has come for him to try and defuse the situation before Buffy gets hurt. He stands up to and puts a hand on Buffy's shoulder. If a fight does break out, he's definitely got her back, but he's going to at least try and avoid that. No matter how tough she is, and Spike's sure she's tough, she probably can't take someone with Lan's experience and strength.]

Love, maybe this isn't the best idea...

1/2

[technophobic]

[Lan testily yanks his elbow away from Dovan's grip, and the mug goes flying 8( Craaaaaaash. Welp, now that gets the final third of the room's attention.]

The only thing you'll be seeing is--

[bancroft]

[But we never get to find out what Lan thinks Buffy will be seeing because there's abruptly the clatter of many MORE plates and glasses and cutlery as a figure suddenly launches himself up and onto the feast table, nearby, practically hurtling his way across to a spot between Lan and Buffy. He's a mad slash of long straggly black hair, a incredibly beat up and tattered black leather cloak, and a scruffy beard, and he holds up both hands as if he's about to conduct a choir. ... Except that one hand has a beer mug in it. His voice is louder than both of them as he shouts out in a loud, merry, drunken tone:]

Who's up for a round of "Whiskey in the Jar", eh? [And he starts singing raucously and very, very off tune, wagging one finger to conduct the others who are all staring up at him:]

As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains...