undergrounds | [Closed to US Expats in London on Thanksgiving]

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[Closed to US Expats in London on Thanksgiving]

The Lanky Loon wasn't exactly Daryl's bar of choice on most days, but it did one thing that the majority of pubs in the area didn't: catered to Expats feeling a little lonely on Thanksgiving. Mostly becuase it was run by ex-Expats who'd settled down decades ago and thought it would be fun to do when they were hurting for friends. Turkey and potatoes with stuffing and cranberry were the only items on the menu today and several long tables set out so all the people with no family in the area could sit down next to each other like they were. They got to be as dysfunctional as expected but without any of the baggage that went with it and they could disown the rest when they left. The place was open all day and food was first come first serve.

Daryl had found it through his job since they like to hire state-side and this would be his third year going. He didn't know anyone's names but the owners and didn't really care if he remembered them or not. Didn't matter, the big game was on the tiny little screen that passed for a television and people were already getting loud and rowdy about it. Felt enough like home to be worth an hour or two of his time.

He grabbed a plate, a beer, and set himself down at an empty spot. Turned to whoever he was next to and raised the bottle up in toast, "Happy Turkey-day."

[we have a small cast of american characters so if anyone wants to mingle with each other and not just Daryl, go right ahead.]

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OTA

Oliver hasn't been to this bar before, but he's already been back to the states in the summer, and can't afford to go back just yet. Especially so soon after getting a promotion. He still needs to prove he's fit for the role he's been given. He'd seen a few mentions of the Lanky Loon's Thanksgiving event on social media, but hadn't really been intending to go. It had seemed like something that would make him feel awkward, maybe even leave him feeling more lonely.

It's only after an hour and a half long call of being passed between his parents, aunts, uncles, grandmother, and most of his cousins that it hits him how hard it is not to be there. He doesn't want to be alone. So the Lanky Loon it is, and honestly the atmosphere's pretty nice. He can't even seat himself out of the way in the corner with the tables like this, and he feels better for it. It's not quite like being at home, but he can roll his eyes at the preoccupation so many people seem to have with the game, eat far too much food, and with a few beers inside him it doesn't seem too intimidating to strike up conversation with the other attendees.

Everyone's in the same boat as him, so it doesn't seem too weird to ask them questions about where they come from, or how the turkey compares to the one they'd have at home, or even jokingly complain if he's sat next to someone who seems a little preoccupied with the game. Though honestly even that's nice. He never thought he'd miss being in a room full of people who care way too much about sports this much.

Closed to Daryl

Oliver has to take a moment to swallow a mouthful of turkey when Daryl sits next to him, but once he does he's quick to grin, raising his own bottle up in return.

"Happy Turkey Day. Having fun?"

"Bout to find out," he answered, grin still in place. The bottles clinked and he took a long pull off his before he dug into the meal in front of him. There was no semblance of manners for the first few bites that were basically just shoveled into his mouth. Even the fork ended up forgotten as he dropped it to push the last bits of the turkey inside before he swallowed and started licking each finger one by one.

"Yeah. I'd say I am," Daryl laughed through the end of that. Then he nodded at Oliver, "Don't think I've seen you at the family table before. First time?"

Oliver watches that with wide eyes, but it's Thanksgiving. If there's ever a time when it's acceptable to just shovel food into your mouth it's then. He hadn't quite expected it when they're in a bar rather than a home, but as he says, it's his first time. He doesn't know what the norm is here.

He nods in admission, grinning sheepishly.

"I usually go home for Thanksgiving, stay back home through Christmas if I can get away with it. This seemed like it might be the next best thing."

Which he has been able to previously. Uninteresting as his last job had been he'd been good at it. Good enough they'd been lenient with him saving his leave and taking it all at once, if only reluctantly.

"You came last year?"

That wasn't the norm, that was just how Daryl ate. He gulped down the last of his first 'serving', let out a burp, thumped his chest, then went for another drink. When he was done, he was nodding and relaxing a little into the chair, "Yeah. Year before that, too. Place I work hires mostly expats and all'a them knew about this place already. I ain't been back across the pond in while."

Not that he had much to go back to.

He couldn't say he wasn't a little grossed out, but... it's not like he didn't have family who wouldn't have eaten almost as ill mannered as this guy was. It was turning out to be pretty close to the real family experience if nothing else.

While he was still eating enthusiastically, Oliver for his own part managed to be pretty neat about it. If anything the way Daryl was eating made him even more aware of keeping himself in check despite his appetite.

He did feel a little sorry that the guy had been in England so long without going back though.

"Do you miss it?"

He shrugged, a jerky, one-shouldered motion as he started taking his time with the meal. He still wasn't doing small bites, but he wasn't shoveling as much into his mouth now that he'd gotten the first part down. At least he waited to keep talking until he was done swallowing.

"Sometimes. The weather the most. 'M from Georgia. It gets cold, but not like this. And I guess I miss my brother. He's an asshole, though. So wouldn't want him around long anyway."

Daryl elbowed Oliver lightly, "Guessin' you got yourself one'a them big families if you're goin' back every year."

The man was a little less intimidating when he didn't seem quite so much like he was inhaling the food in front of him, but he was still more physical than Oliver was usually with strangers.

"Kind of?"

His family always seemed small to him most of the time. It was when it came to the holidays it suddenly seemed to expand drastically.

"My parents only had me," he explained. "But they have siblings, and most of them had multiple kids, and a lot of them have kids now... I'm the only one who lives that far away, so everyone gets together still."

"Sounds pretty big to me." Even if they was cousins and nephews and all that. If they all got together all the time, then it was 'big'.

"It was just me and Merle, our daddy, and if we were lucky, Uncle Jess for the holidays." Daryl wasn't about to get into the details of how bad that was sometimes, but general family talk... well, that was kind of the thing that went on at Thanksgiving. It was easier to fall into it with the current surroundings and none of it had to be deep to be good. "Daddy and Uncle Jess had different momma's so we never really kept up with his side of the family after Gran-daddy died, but he liked to come over and spend time with his brother when he could. The cozy sorta gatherings."

"That sounds nice though. Apart from your brother being a jerk."

Sometimes holidays were a little overwhelming with there being so many people around. He enjoyed them, and it was the only time of year he saw some of his family, but it could be a bit much.

In the sea of people, Caroline is happy to see a familiar face. "Hey, Oliver!" she called out before heading his way. She managed to shift some people around so she could sit across from him. "Happy Thanksgiving," she said after getting settled, raising her glass in his direction.

"Caroline!"

He hadn't expected to see a familiar face, but he's glad to. If the people already opposite him hadn't moved, then he would have. He leans over to clink his glass against hers, smiling broadly.

"Happy Thanksgiving. How are you?"

"I'm good, how about you?" That wasn't really the whole truth, all things considered, but she didn't feel the need to launch in to a sob story just now. And really, she was doing as well as could be expected.

"Yeah. I'm good too," he agrees. Again, not strictly true, but he is having a good time and even if he was closer he wants to enjoy himself. Not spend time dwelling on missing what he doesn't have here.

"Have you been here for Thanksgiving before? It's my first time but it seems nice." Very different from what she was used to but different wasn't necessarily bad.

He shakes his head at that.

"I usually go home. This is my first Thanksgiving even in this country."

He still sort of wishes he wasn't, but coming to this bar has definitely cheered him up.

Caroline nodded. She wondered how long Oliver had been in London - obviously significantly longer than she had.

"So, where's home?"

"Newark, technically, but I kind of always preferred Philly. I like to spend at least a little bit of time there when I go back so I can catch up with everyone I knew there."

He knows it sounds like he had way more friends than he did when he puts it like that, but he lived there a long time. He wasn't overly popular, but he became close to people.

"Where's home for you?"

"Cool. My parents and I went up to Philly one summer, it was a nice vacation." The three of them hadn't had a lot of those. By the next year, it was clear that her parents' marriage was crumbling, as happens when one spouse is in the closet.

"I'm from Mystic Falls, Virginia."

"You had fun there?"

It's an eager question. He's not sure he could live there again after moving away, but he considers it far more his home than Newark. He enjoys hearing good things about it.

"I haven't heard of that. Is it a small town?"

"Yeah, we did. I have to admit, I don't remember a lot of the details but I do remember it being nice."

Shocking, another person who's never heard of Mystic Falls. She's used to it by now though. "Yeah, pretty small. It was nice though, as long as you didn't mind too many people knowing about your business." Though at least not too many of them had figured out the whole vampire thing - only the ones that already knew what to look for.

"...I don't think I'd like that. I'm too used to cities."

He's never been drawn to small town life, and that's just one more thing he's never liked the idea of.

Caroline nods. "It's definitely not for everyone. I'm not even sure it's for me, at least not permanently. Hence my move to the big, bad city."

She remembers when Klaus told her she wouldn't be happy with a small town boy and a small town life. She'd hated hearing that, mostly because she was pretty sure it was true.

"The big, bad city where nobody knows anyone? That must be a pretty big shock to the system."

Especially when it's a city in a different country entirely.

"Yes. That was sort of the point." Physical distance, emotional distance.

"That bad?"

That's something that isn't his business, and he seems to realize as the words slip out.

"The city suits you. You seem like you're doing pretty well here."

It's not much of a save, but it's an attempt at one if nothing else.

Caroline doesn't mind the question, especially since she's already thinking about everything today anyway. "My mom died. After that, I needed change of pace."

"Oh."

Well, there's a question he regrets asking. Even if it was private he hadn't expected it to be something so tragic.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that."

"Don't worry about it."

She can tell Oliver's not exactly comfortable with the topic, so she decides to talk about something else.

"So, how's the world of tech support these days?"

Edited 2017-01-12 13:31 (UTC)

"It's okay."

His enthusiasm maybe partially be because it's a different topic.

"You know... not that exciting, but it's going well."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it." Caroline's not quite sure what else to say. She is interesting in what goes on over at Redbright but not sure how much he'd be willing, or even allowed, to tell her.

Arthur has managed to make a few friendships with fellow Americans throughout his time networking in London, which that's how he hears about this, and he shows up thinking it can't hurt to grab a bit of turkey and stuffing and nostalgia. He hasn't lived stateside for any significant length of time in years, but it's still home and this serves as a little taste of that in between actual trips back to Chicago.

He shows up with a couple other Hillingdon hunters and starts circulating right away. He always likes to informally case a joint before he sits down to eat, so he grabs a beer and starts talking, finding out where people are from and how long it's been since they were home and what they're doing in England, all the standard questions. He's always looking for new connections but he's never too heavy-handed about it. When he finally sits down its probably next to someone he doesn't know, asking if they mind and then slipping into a chair where there's a half-decent view of the game.

"No, I don't mind."

It doesn't exactly surprise him when the man's eyes go to the screen. He's not in a great spot for it, but all the ones with the best views are already taken by people who show no sign of wanting to move from it.

"Thanks," Arthur says, taking a sip of his beer once he's determined what the score is on the tiny screen. After he takes a bite of his food he smiles wryly and gestures back at the TV.

"You know, I never would have bothered to turn this on if I was still living in the States."

"Neither would I. I'd have still seen it. There's always someone who puts it on."

Probably the one upside of staying in his apartment tonight is he might never have know the score.

Edited 2016-11-29 23:46 (UTC)

Arthur will stick around long enough to see that at least, now that he's kind of committed, but he doesn't begrudge anyone their preference for being comfortable at home.

"It is tradition," he says not sounding all that convincing. He can only talk about football for so long, though.

"So, how long have you been in London?"

"A few years, but this is the first Thanksgiving I haven't been home for," he admits. He guesses that makes him pretty lucky. Not everyone would be able to as often as he has.

"What about you?"

"About two and a half years in London, but I was traveling in Europe before that," he says, nodding. "It's actually been a while since I was home for Thanksgiving."

The thought makes him feel a little guilty, but it's not like his family has ever begged for him to come home on this particular holiday. They usually get him for a few weeks or so once a year, so he's not too worried about falling farther out of touch than he wants to.

"You here for work?"

"Not really. I mean, I work here, but until recently I could have done the kind of work I did here just as easily."

Which does make him feel a little bad. He's here because he wants to be, not because he has to be. Much as he might miss his family at times like this he wouldn't change his choices.

"Where did you go in Europe?"

OTA

Thanksgiving had sort of snuck up on Caroline, though to be fair that had been partially on purpose. It marked the beginning of the first holiday season without her mother and she hadn't been eager to deal with what that meant.

Tonight though, she finally have to at least face the fact that if she wanted turkey, she was going to search the city for it. Luckily, she eventually heard about the Lanky Loon's Expat dinner and so she made her way there after nightfall, filled her plate, and went looking for some company.

For Daryl

She spotted Daryl pretty quickly, but wasn't sure if he'd want to see her or not. She hadn't seem him since that strange night when something odd had definitely being going on. She still wasn't quite sure what, though she did suspect it may have something to do with the mystery perfume. She should have known better than to just blindly accept something that showed up on her doorstep without warning like that.

Finally, she decided to at least say hi. She could always move somewhere else if it's too uncomfortable.

"Hey," she said as she walked over to him. "Is this seat taken?"

OTA

Thomas might not need to eat, but that didn't mean he couldn't eat. It also didn't mean it wasn't nice to go somewhere where just for a little bit, he could be reminded of his life before. His life before he was whisked away to London, his life before food stopped meaning quite so much to him...

And so he ordered his food, and decided to settle down and get to know his fellow expats. He sat down, and was generally friendly, open and chatty, and would talk to anyone who happened to sit near him.

Daryl

When he spotted Daryl, Thomas instantly recognized him. Not from the time Daryl tried to kill him, of course, Thomas had never seen the face of the man who was firing crossbow bolts at him and was blissfully unaware that was Daryl. If he had known, he likely wouldn't have approached him. As it was, he only recognized him as one of the ones helping to dispatch those loyal to Raymond, and in his mind, any ally of Jean-Claude's was an ally of his.

Thomas raised his own glass in response to his toast. "Hey, I remember you."

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[Closed to US Expats in London on Thanksgiving]

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