The Great Feast! [Thanksgiving 2k15]

She didn't pay attention to the Headmaster's announcement, or to the commotion near the tables where the two children were fighting. Kayla just cut across the hall straight from the doors toward the rows and rows of food, a certain urgency in the way she walked. She didn't waste any time finding a plate, and didn't waste any time in sliding down the table, piling on almost everything she seemed to come across.

Kayla tried her best to shut herself off from the rest of the room. She was a scrawny girl, and she knew the kind of taunts she'd get, like she used to get every year at events like these, so she wouldn't fucking bother. This was her one day in the year that she could gorge herself until she wanted to die. Even if it wasn't necessary anymore, old habits died hard. A spoonful of cranberry sauce, a serving of stuffing, a mountain of mashed potatoes doused in gravy and chopped onions, three too many croissants than any sane person would want, a cob of corn, thick slices of honey ham and hearty portions of green beans, sweet potatoes, and casserole. Her plate's crowning jewel came last. A fat turkey sat near the center of the table, and without any hesitation or delicacy, reached out and ripped the leg straight from the bird. She plopped it on top like a trophy.

Her mountain of food could barely stay on the plate. I need a tray... Maybe she'd take one before she left. After she ate, she'd probably move around to pile on more to take back to the dorm, whether that was against the rules or not.

Again, old habits died hard.

Careful not to let her plate spill to the ground, but fast enough to distance herself from any of the others moving down the queue, she moved to the farthest edge of the table and settled down with a mug (or more like a pint) of apple cider.

Electric currents rippled around her to show her annoyance, but she did allow herself a small, private smile as she stared down at her platter.

What was she thankful for?

She couldn't even think up an answer, so she didn't try. There was no grace or prayers or friends to wait for, so she just grabbed at a fork, leaned forward, and began to shovel food into her mouth like a starving animal.

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On the other side of the table, unnoticed, forgotten, and ignored, Evelyn was trying her best to avoid the spotlight.

She leaned her elbows on the table and took a tip from the wine glass, watching the whole procession through half-lidded eyes. If she was being honest, she wasn't even trying to hide it. None of the adults would notice her, and none of the prefects or others would either. That was the hard reality of her situation, so she might as well press a few advantages while she could. Her plate was sparse, corn and green beans and a side of cornbread just to make it look less depressing. Thanksgiving had always been a dreadful holiday back home, and here at Beata, she didn't exactly have much reason to celebrate. Evelyn had always just been a 'picky eater.' No matter how many times she tried to explain to her mom she was a vegetarian, it hadn't stopped her from trying to stuff ten pounds of turkey and three hundred dollars of groceries down her throat year after year. Supper was bad enough, but Thanksgiving was a flash point, a warzone, the Tet Offensive in her endless dinnertime insurgency.

At least, tonight, she could be thankful that her mother wasn't there hovering over her shoulder. She hadn't even touched her plate. It felt more liberating to break table manners, break the rules, and for once, not eat at all.

Evelyn gave a bitter smile and tipped back the glass again.

Wearing her formalwear wasn't something she was used to. In fact, it was a pretty lame dress. White silk with a beige painter's cap. She was so hungry she didn't even bother to apply lipstick which would enhance her facial region greatly. Not that she cared what others thought of her, only since she was most likely running late and could use a few extra minutes to get in and slip by hopefully unnoticed. It was Thanksgiving; nothing to be sad about. I'm thankful for Mittens, Jake, Mal, um... Dad... Her mind nearly exploded with defeat since she really didn't think about what she was thankful for. Honestly, she wasn't so fond about turkey; she thought it - even smothered underneath the sweet, rich cranberry sauce - wasn't that great. She ate it nonetheless to seem happy, but otherwise she merely hated it. She threw up once after eating a whole drumstick.

She was so lost in thoughts with her head floating in the fluffy clouds, she hadn't noticed that she was standing out in the hallways with her hand wrapped tightly around a stick of... Lipstick! She got it all over her face! What was she supposed to do now? This was simply a curse! She could blind everyone so they couldn't see her, but that would be very rude and impolite. And she was such an angel. (OOC: Sarcasam.) As footsteps came up behind her, she screamed - not from shock, but from embarrassment. "Go away, creep! I don't need someone spying on me!"

~

There was red smeared all over her rosy cheeks, and he frowned. "Oh, had a little accident, Angela?" He said jokingly, saying her name in such a way it sounded as a father scolding their child. "Nice to see you, uh... Clown-Face." He teased mockingly.
What an insult. He smirked. His arm shoved her out of the way, and he angrily headed towards the Grand Hall. It wasn't that grand, but he wasn't complaining. It was somewhere to eat. His stomach growled noisily as he smiled warmly.

He quickly grabbed a plate/tray thing, and started overloading it with turkey, gravy, cranberry sauce and salad. He snatched a metal/plastic fork from the pile and sat down, crunching on the salad, and dipping the turkey into the cranberry sauce and the gravy.