gloriouscurse | If you are really thankful, what do you do? You share. [Thanksgiving Day in the City]

Never had Regina had an abundance to be thankful for. Henry, of course, she was glad every day for him. Under the curse they'd had this holiday together, though it had always been just them, and after it broke the holidays had fallen to the wayside as event after event happened in Storybrooke. Then there was the year spent back in the forest, and though everyone knew what it was, there hadn't been much to celebrate. Or if anyone had, Regina certainly hadn't taken part in the festivities. She'd had nothing but newfound vengeance. In her life before, there was no such thing as 'Thanksgiving' and the last large meal she'd had, the last grand gathering, had been the king's birthday and she couldn't have cared less if she tried.

This year is different. This year there's family and friends of the family and things to celebrate. There's Henry getting to have a holiday with all three of his parents, there's Robin and Roland and a happiness that has managed to settle into Regina's belly and slowly allow her to relax. She hasn't had a terrible dream in weeks, and maybe she's started to let herself believe that this could be how her life is. She finds herself wanting it, the warmth Cora's home never allowed for, the laughter she's denied herself, and so she works hard at it, cooking and baking. Henry's with her in the kitchen in the morning after spending the day before hunting wild turkey with Robin. There are appetizers out by eleven: parmesan and cream cheese pumpkin puffs, deviled eggs and veggies with homemade dip. The wine and drinks are flowing by noon, and at three, dinner is served with traditional fare: turkey and stuffing, mashed and sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, real cranberry sauce and everything in between. She'd urged her guests to bring food they enjoyed too. Dessert is during mid-cleanup and includes Henry's no-bake pumpkin pie, an apple pie, pecan, and sweet potato.

The dull chatter in the room, the occasional laughter and the noise of whatever people watched on television during Thanksgiving all lended itself to make her step back and watch for a moment, eyes suspiciously damp. She's truly thankful, because she never thought she'd have this.

[ooc: Treat as gathering! Lots of mingling and tagging one another.]

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"Well, I was one," she says, looking unimpressed with her own heritage. "They're not the nice people that everyone seems to think they are."

"Don't I know it," Delsin says with a laugh. "Not first-hand, maybe, but, y'know." He watches her, a little uncertain. "Where're you from?"

"Before here? Blithe Hollow, Massachusetts," Aggie replies. She doesn't hide her distaste for the town that condemned her.

"They...weren't a fan of the powers."

Delsin nods. "Hey, I hear that," he assures. He lets smoke swirl around his hand. "Sometimes, people are jerks. So, you're a real, live Pilgrim, huh? It's not gonna bother you that I'm Akomish, is it?"

"A real, undead pilgrim, actually," Aggie deadpans. "They really didn't like the powers. So I was hanged for witchcraft."

Delsin's eyebrows go up. "So you're . . . a zombie? A ghost?" He's not sure he gets it. She's got powers, so maybe a ghost is more likely.

"Ghost, I guess," Aggie says, a little uncertain. "I'm a lot of things, I guess. Whether I'm a ghost or a witch kind of depends on the day."

Delsin's eyes widen a little. "Damn," he says. "And I thought I had problems." He winces as soon as the words are out. "Shit, not that I think you have problems!"

Aggie shrugs. "I probably have problems. But I also have a giant bowl of mashed potatoes with my name on them, so I'm not too worried."

Delsin laughs. "Good girl," he teases. "Potatoes are pretty sweet." He grins and gestures to let her lead the way.

"No," Aggie says, pointing at the potatoes and feigning confusion. "They're mashed."

"Right," Delsin agrees. "I meant, more, y'know . . ." He gestures helplessly, trying to verbalize a concept he's not used to having to verbalize.

"I know," Aggie says. Her face lights up just a little mischievously. "I love doing that when people find out I'm three hundred years old."

Smiling, she hands him a plate and then gets one of her own.

Delsin blinks, then stares. "Oh-ho, you're a giant brat, aren't you," he says, but he sounds impressed and amused, not insulted or angry. He laughs and grabs the proffered plate.

Still cheeky, Aggie gives him another wicked grin before she starts to load her plate.

"I've had a really long time to perfect being a moody teenager."

If you are really thankful, what do you do? You share. [Thanksgiving Day in the City]

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