2019-12-11 - A Very Rosencrantz Hanukkah

All Jewish holidays start at sunset. So it is at 4:20 (nice) PM today that Hanukkah officially begins. Number 15 Elm, the house owned by Stephanie Lilek (once Stephanie and Reggie Lilek, but Reggie's been gone for several months, no hide nor hair of him, not even to pick up the kids for a weekend) is full of light, the warmth of the oven going, the scent of delicious food.

Itzhak, of course, has a line on crazy folk music, and what he's got on the stereo is klezmer Christmas music, fast and rollicking, lots of fiddle and accordion and clarinet. Ever wanted to hear a klezmer/surf version of Little Drummer Boy? You're covered.

The two kids, Hunter (six, blonde, perpetual motion machine) and Philomenia (Philly, eight, shy, made of horse facts) are seething around while Itzhak and August cook. "Don't get near that, that's hot oil," Itzhak is saying to Hunter, nudging him aside with a knee. "Didn't yer ma tell you not to come in the kitchen?"

Rebecca arrives early, as per usual, in a cute long-sleeved minidress. It's a white sheathe with a dark blue pleated tulle over it, and black and white cuffs and collar. A black belt and black strappy heels finish the look (https://i.imgur.com/QPdZED4.jpg). Her hair is pulled back and up in a high ponytail, and her jewelry is modest. She immediately presented Itzhak with three things. Cranberry Orange Rugelach made by her boss, a 2 pound bag of gelt, and a terrible Hanukkah sweater proclaiming he is a "Jewnicorn" (https://i.imgur.com/gj6uvJ9.jpg) because, well, inside joke.

Now she's chatting with Philly about horses, seated on a sofa, and doing her best not to worry about knowing absolutely nothing about the holiday she couldn't derive from the internet.

August came in a suit, because well, he never wears these things otherwise. Anyways, it's a smart, dark, blue three piece, with a crisp white shirt and a black and gold tie. ("Who got you this one?" Itzhak had asked. "Paul," he'd said. He never gave out full names. 'Paul', 'Max', 'Raul', 'Charlie'. Who were they? Rich tech guys. That's all he was willing to divulge.) He's abandoned the jacket for an apron and rolled up his sleeves, making for a smart looking sous-chef.

He doesn't say what he's thinking, which is This is the kind of kid who wants to double-check you on your 'fire burns' warnings, mostly because he suspects Itzhak was that kid too, and, he's sure Itzhak is aware. He settles for patiently and relentlessly moving Hunter out of the way or clear of danger with the same casual manner in which a mother cat carts her kittens to and fro by the scruff.

15 Elm Street isn't exactly far away for Alexander or Isolde, and Alexander, at least, is making his way over there with a determination to be EXACTLY on time. Not late. Not early. Exactly. He doesn't bring anything, and is dressed in his usual terrible clothing, but he does try to make himself useful with fetching and carrying if needed. When not, he tries to lure Hunter away from the people who are cooking with an offer to show him how to build card castles, pointing out that the bigger you build them, the more satisfying they are to explode.

Itzhak WAS wearing an extremely offensive (but non-Yiddish-speakers don't know how offensive, so it's fine, that's his logic) sweater that read 'Happy Hanukkah, Ya Filthy Schmucks'. [https://bit.ly/2PrZ9eH] But when Rebecca gave him the Jewnicorn sweater, he made a wordless croak of glee and promptly switched out. So now he's wearing that. Jewnicorn right here, bubbeleh. He hadn't hugged her because she's in one of her crisp perfect dresses and he can be like an overeager Great Dane jumping on someone, but he'd kissed her.

Stephanie, blonde and eternally harried, is trying very, very hard to play gracious hostess to a bunch of strange people who are her strange tenant's friends. "Thank you so much," she's saying a lot, especially to anybody trying to keep Hunter out of trouble. (Hunter finds Alexander's offer of card houses compelling. "Can I smash it with my hammer?" He's got an inflatable Thor's hammer because someone told him that Hanukkah starred a guy whose superhero name is the Hammer. The leap of logic for Hunter wasn't far.) Itzhak has so many helpful friends that she's finding herself out of a job, and Itzhak yells at her from the kitchen, "Siddown, wouldya!"

Ruiz has put some actual effort into his appearance tonight. Which is to say, he's combed his hair and trimmed his beard and put on a pair of boots that look suspiciously like Prada.

He's not the first to arrive nor the last; whomever fetches the door after he's knocked gets an eyeful of him in a silk button-down shirt and tailored pants, with a dark peacoat pulled over top. The best thing about it? No fucking ball cap in sight. The children are eyed as he steps inside, arms full of a covered tray that smells like latkes and sufganiyot.

She arrives separate from Alexander, because she has to drive from her place by the docks, and whenever the door opens and Isabella peeks inside, she's carrying a few items. She has never celebrated Hannukah in someone's residence before, so in clear preparation and so as to ensure not to offend her host, she had gone to an expert and consulted Dr. Minerva Kosimar, who she knew from a past conversation had family members who ran a bakery. So when the archaeologist arrives, she's carrying a paper bag full of hot, freshly-baked challah and a bottle of decent Kosher wine.

"Hello?" she calls out, taking a step inside, clad in a sleeveless blouse tucked under a reddish-brown jacket, jeans tucked into knee-high boots, and a warm cashmere scarf draped over her shoulders and hiding the white-gold chain that keeps her moonstone pendant close to her heart. Her hair is pulled up in its usual twist and as always, cosmetics are minimal - just moisturizer, clear lipgloss and eyeliner to enhance and accentuate the shape and color of her eyes. Compared to the likes of Rebecca, August and Javier holy shit are those Prada?? they almost make her look underdressed.

Grant knocks and shows, dark purple suit, black converse sneakers, matching kippe, a Daisy and a duffelbag with him. Hey the skate punk showed up sober! Who knew!? He assures Daisy, "Nah it's not at all a bunch of old ladies in rockers kvetching." His fingers on one hand sign as he goes. He is one expressive dude. "Been working on an art piece and we got to talking. It'll be fun." He knocks and lets himself in with a wide, easy grin. That he doesn't know many doesn't stop him, or at least he recognizes a couple. Bex, and Ruiz get a greeting, "Well salutations. "

Rebecca is on door answering duty and she smiles at Ruiz and Isabella as they arrive. "Javier, good to see you." She gives the gruff police Captain a kiss on the cheek and gestures him towards the kitchen with the tray of goodies. "That goes in there I think. Hello Miss Reede, you look lovely tonight, please do come in. This is Stefanie, Itzhak's landlord, and her kids Philly and Hunter." She gestures.

Then there is Grant and Daisy. She blinks at the kid a moment or ten, then blurts out, "Hey there little fox." Because he was the Fennec. Hey! At least she didn't call him Crotchbiter. "Come on in."

"Of course you can smash it with your hammer," Alexander says, with a grin at the boy. "Tell you what - we'll work on a really high one, use up the whole deck, and then when you smash it, cards will fly everywhere." He looks at least as compelled by this possibility as Hunter is, and works on quietly demonstrating how to set up a strong base for the card castle, letting Hunter do as much as his hands can manage before stepping in to tweak the angles here and there. His eyes flicker to each person let in, with broad smiles for Isabella and Ruiz. Grant and Daisy get...more suspicious looks, but at least he doesn't immediately demand to know who they are. He's on his best behavior. For Alexander.

August is mildly relieved when Alexander lures Hunter out of the kitchen. He has a sip of his water, looks around them. "Okay, what's next. Need me to chop anything, or are we past the 'chop one hundred things' phase of prep?" He glances over his shoulder at various people arriving, gives them up-nods or waves of greeting.

Daisy stands next to Grant, wearing a dark purple dress that matches the shade of his suit. Whether that's an intentional match or not is anyone's guess. It's fairly simple, with long sleeves, a rounded neck, and hugs her figure to her hips where it flairs out in a soft bell. Black and white striped tights are on her legs, and a pair of purple mary janes. Her blue and green hair has been left loose, a dark cat's eye in eyeliner around her pale blue eyes. She smiles warmly to everyone and gives a little finger-wave. She's with Grant. She knows pretty much nobody. But that doesn't stop her from being cheerful.

"Miss Carr! Thanks, how are you doing?" Isabella wonders, lifting the bread and wine that she had brought. "Should I just set this....?" She'll look for the appropriate place to put these items. Her smile is warm, as always, but it broadens visibly at the sight of more familiar faces within. Javier gets a squeeze on the shoulder, and a press of her lips in the air next to his cheek. "Muy guapo," she tells him, bringing what minimal Spanish she's learned in one summer in Spain to bear, before easing away so she could set the goods down and leave her arms free.

Alexander playing with Hunter gets a look that's both affectionate and melancholy at once, before her intent, green eyes find Grant within the collective. There's a pause, brows furrowing visibly, until recognition settles on her features. "....Colonel Mustard?" What?

Itzhak has no such compunctions as Bex; he hollers, "YO CROTCHBITER!" at Grant, wiping his hands off on the apron he's wearing (frilly, with strawberries) as he comes out of the kitchen to greet everybody. He's damp and warm with cooking and nobody here has ever seen him this happy. "Hang on," he says to Ruiz, smiling slyly at him--and produces a kippah, a plain little silver satin one, and accosts him with it, setting it on his hair and clipping it in place with a metal hair clip. "You look great." There go the eyebrows.

"Okay, guys," he says, raising his voice to make introductions. "This's Captain de la Vega--" yup, still calling him by his last name, "Alexander Clayton do NOT call him Alex, Isabella, I dunno if you can call her Izzy or what, that's on her. That's Bex, this's Bax, hey you guys are cousins by the way, I dunno Bax's girl, sorry, and does everybody know Roen? Everybody knows Roen, right? Isolde might come later and Lex might come later too, I think that's everybody. Thanks for bringing stuff you guys, c'mere and put it down."

Grant lifts a hand flashing a grin to Isabella, "Suuuup, it's the Ms.! Hey ypu're alright. Let's hope this dinner goes better than the last." And then he's called Crotchbiter. It only makes him flash a toothy grin Itzhak's way waving. He informs Daisy, very proud of this, "I was stoned a a fox for a while. Very long, very awesome story." There's a pause though "Ah yeah?" He looks to Rebecca curiously, "Ah yeah?" Huh! He hands the duffel to Itzhak, "I promised I'd be your challah back girl. There it is. I don't wanna cram myself in the kitchen. Daisy made sure I didn't burn it." To the room he says, "Grant Baxter. Or G-Bax, oooor Bax. I'll answer. This is Daisy Rowe. She's amazing. Daisy, the people I helped hide from...stuff." He may still think he was hiding Ruiz from the cops.

August gives Itzhak a sidelong Look when he says that, pointedly glancing towards the kids in the other room. He awaits the pained grimace from Stephanie.

His borrowed kippah is black satin, not that easy to see against his hair except when the light hits it; the clips are what really what give it away. He's brought a few selections of gold foil wrapped chocolate coins, who knows where he got them. ...possibly he made them, it's not like melting chocolate into a silicone mold is difficult. Unlike Itzhak, his apron is a standard black one, which makes him look very boring man of the house. A comfortable feel, all in all.

Rebecca blinks at Itzhak's shout, gives him an amused look, then blinks more when he declares she and Grant are cousins. "Bax, as in Baxter?" she asks curiously, bright blue-violet eyes narrowing to study the young man. And he confirms that. "My family were Baxters some generations back, but they changed their names after they left Gray Harbor." Gee I wonder WHY? Fucking Gray Harbor. She smiles warmly to Daisy though. Nice to meet you. Please come in and find a seat."

Alexander gives Hunter a look. "Don't call people crotchbiter unless they've asked you to. Most people don't like it, and it would make them feel sad. You don't want to make people feel sad." Just to try and head off any unintended lessons there. He stops the castle from tumbling with a couple of well-placed cards, then turns his attention back to the conversation. There's a huff of exasperation for Itzhak's way of introducing people without real names, but the interest sharpens on Grant when he gives his actual name. "You're a Baxter. Interesting." A curious peer at Daisy, too.

Ruiz leans in to the cheek kiss from Rebecca, hand to her shoulder briefly so he can return it. "Es bueno verte de nuevo," he murmurs with a brief, dimpled smile, and then Isabella's next in line for a dose of Mexican manners; which means a kiss for her cheek, too. Then Itzhak's accosting him with a.. what the fuck is that? He scowls at the man, then prowls past to go deposit the food he brought, in the kitchen. It's probably the presence of the children here that's staved off any off-colour remarks.

Isolde is not too far behind Alexander in arrival. She has never done anything with Hanukkah. Ever. So she's excited and curious! She made cookies, because that's just her thing these days. There's a mix of chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she's wearing a cream colored sweater dress that has little green frogs on it. Don't ask how she found it or where, but she did and she loves it. There's a pair of black boots to go with it and she's even attempted a touch of makeup. Over all, not too bad.

"Hello everyone!" She says cheerfully to the whole party, finding a place to set down the cookies, taking a glance at everyone who has arrived.

"Hi, I'm Daisy," she says when Grant introduces her, giving him a little raised-brow look when he's called crotchbiter, and explains that he was stoned as a fox. She blinks slowly for just a moment, and then shrugs, taking it in stride. Sure, why not? "I'm uh, also not Jewish, so if I say something stupid, I apologize in advance. I just want to be respectful and all." She may seem just a tiny bit nervous.

Stephanie just gives Itzhak an extremely tired look. God only knows what she must go through as the woman who owns the house. "And this is Stephanie," Itzhak adds, knowing a cue when he sees one, "sorry about the crotchbiter thing. That's Hunter, and that's Philly. Like a baby girl horse." He sweeps over to hug Isolde and smooch her. ...Yeah, all three of his people are in this room, and he's glowing. To Daisy, he says, arm around Isolde, "Ya not Jewish?...Well, nobody's perfect," and grins lopsided at her.

Hunter's already drawn breath to scream his new favorite word, when Alexander tells him it's not nice. "Ohhh-KAY," he groans. Then bashes the nascent card house with his hammer. Paf! Pof! Good thing it can't do much damage. Philly is curled up in a corner of the couch, cuddling a well-loved Applejack pony plush and hiding her eyes. Whenever someone gets close to her she informs them of a horse fact such as "Horses have two hundred and six bones in their skeletons."

"Don't sweat it," August says to Daisy. "Some of us are and still don't know," he pauses, eyes flicking to Philly and Hunter, back to Itzhak, "a whole lot." He chases that with a small smile.

He watches Ruiz stalk into the kitchen, follows him to help sort out some trays for the latkes and jelly donuts. "Brought some pomegranate cider, if you want." He's having a bottle himself; there's also apple cider, and apple-pomegranate cider as well. One thing to like about Washington: craft cider is a thing.

Rebecca gives Isolde a warm smile. "Glad you made it," she says to the other woman. Then she moves observe in the kitchen as this seems to be the remainder of the invite list. "Anything I can help with?" she asks quietly, wringing her hands a little. She's not used to sitting still and not having any tasks at hand.

Leaving the meeting and greeting to those with people skills, like Rebecca, Ruiz is doing his best impression at the moment of a kitchen troll. "Never had it," he murmurs to August after he's set down the tray of Jewish doughnuts and latkes, and is stripping out of his coat. "Sure. Hit me up." Once his coat is off, he starts turning up his shirtsleeves as if by habit. Like he can't stand having the feel of something touching his wrists. The volume of ink kind of detracts from his fancy schmancy threads, but hey. "That was going to be my next question," he tells Rebecca with a low chuckle.

Isolde returned the smooch enthusiastically, settling into Itzhak's side for a moment. "I'm not Jewish either. You're totally okay." She assures the young woman then shifts a bit. As if she doesn't want to get too comfortable. She flashes a bright smile towards Rebecca, "I'm glad I did too." Taking a longer moment to study the woman since she was seeing her for the first time. She slipped from Itzhak to give Stephanie a quick hug as well. "Everything smells so good and so many people got to make it! It's a very good thing."

Grant defends his life choices to Daisy, "Look I was the size of a shoe and this poacher was gettin up in our business so I squirrel Girl'd em." Looking to Rebecca and the others as the name comes into question the human toothpick stands up and leans back. "Yeeees. Yes I am." He still hangs with Daisy, "Don't you worry, Daisy, I will catch you up. It starts with food, it ends with food, it's a good time. But uhhh I ran into a bunch of these peeps on the other side. It's been interesting."

Alexander nudges the key card arch to the side so that a hit from the hammer makes everything tumble and fall with a quite satisfying cascade of cards. "Nice swing, Hunter," he says with a grin at the six year old. "And I'm also not Jewish," he says, since that seems to be information that's been volunteered. He watches people, but mostly seems content to hide behind the small child who needs distraction rather than try and be terribly social. Still there's a quiet pleasure in how he watches them; he likes and knows most of these people, and even the ones he doesn't know seem odd enough to be easier to get along with. His eyes flick to Grant. "You...'squirrel girl'd em'?"

"I don't mind Izzy," Isabella remarks with a smile when she's introduced.

With the table being assembled, she is content to stay out of the way, a smile and wave to Isolde when she walks in. With Grant introducing himself, though, there's a surprised look. "You're a cousin, then - of mine. I'm..." She hesitates. "...I'm not quite sure where in the family tree you are, though. May I ask who your parents are?" Because she obviously won't go back to her records and look this up immediately. Still, most likely she'll be able to table her curiosity in favor of food, and everything smells delicious. Daisy also gets an affable nod as well as an, "I'm not one either. This is actually my first Hannukah."

Daisy does seem a little bit reassured by the assurances of the others that she's okay even if not perfect. That seems to be enough for her, and she gives them all a bright smile. She then grins at Grant and leans over to kiss his cheek, "You were very brave." She gives him a little wink, then. "I like food, starting and ending with that is right up my alley." Then she grins at Isabella and gives her a thumbs-up. "Mine, too. I mean, I've known Grant forever but this is the first time you know, celebrating and all."

Stephanie hugs Isolde back, smiling for her. "It's so good to see you, Izzy!" And she means it. Her smile is somewhat more anxious to Ruiz and Bex. "Uhm, the guys are going to need help bringing things to the table in a second?"

"Okay, we gotta light the candles," Itzhak announces, untying his frilly strawberry apron. His Jewnicorn sweater is thus revealed in all its glory. "It's kinda late, my ma would have everything on the table and the candles lit at sunset on the dot. I never done this before, so, goals, right?"

The menorah on the counter is homemade, crafted out of copper pipe fittings. Why would Itzhak buy a menorah when he could make one of metal and epoxy? The shammash (prounounced 'shamus', just like a 40s noir word for a private detective, because it's the same word) and three candles are set ready.

Itzhak waves everyone to pipe down. "A'ight, guys, quiet, I'm gonna sing the prayer." Before he does, though, he looks at everybody in turn. From the people he met when he was new in town to people he's only just been introduced to, his friends, his fellow Hebrews, and his two girlfriends (and a surly Mexican), all here to celebrate Hanukkah with him. The smile he flashes is one-sided and complicated. "Thanks, guys, for bein' here. It's good." 'A good thing', as Isolde says.

Then he strikes a match to light the shammash, and sings in Hebrew, lighting the other candles as he does.

"Baruch atah Adonai
Eloheinu Melech ha’olam
asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav
v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner
shel Hanukkah."

[https://youtu.be/_fb-tkAet5A]

Rebecca goes quiet and respectful as Itzhak lights his candles and sings his prayer. It's all new to her, and equally fascinating. She sticks close to Ruiz, sort of a strange solidarity of people trying to be useful who aren't sure what the hell to do about it in this context.

Alexander comes to the table with everyone else, although he sort of slinks to a place beside Isabella. Although he's not familiar with this particular ritual, he's had enough experience fitting in with religious ritual that when things like candles start being lit, and prayers start to happen, he actually relaxes. Sure, he doesn't know the prayer, but he understands the words, and he reaches for Isabella's hand to give it a quick squeeze as he listens respectfully.

August nods at Stephanie. "Don't worry, I've got plenty for you to do in a second," he promises Ruiz and Rebecca. He pulls out a pomegranate cider for Ruiz, pops the cap with the bottle opener (it's someone else's kitchen, he's not using the table or counter), offers it up. What would normally be a particularly bright, tart drink has been mellowed by a few additional flavors, giving it a gentler edge that suggests the drink's been mulled.

And then, the prayer and the lighting. He only knows this from descriptions by his father, and he only knew it from visiting his own grandparents. So it went with families who secularized to avoid scrutiny. He watches the whole thing carefully, memorizing it as best he can, watching the flames while Itzhak sings the prayer.

Isolde's eyes widened when she saw Itzhak's sweater and stifled a giggle, grinning. When Itzhak motioned to quiet down , she moved herself to stand somewhere in the middle of Itzhak and Rebecca and Ruiz. She's just going with the flow, but she wants to make sure everyone's at ease and feels included! Especially two of the other very important people to Itzhak. Even though she too has noooo idea what to do aside stay quiet and let Itzhak do his thing! Her attention flitting between the candles and Itzhak.

With everyone asked to gather around the table to participate in the more formal requirements of the evening, Isabella watches Itzhak with that same diamond-sharp, crystal-clear focus. She has never attended a menorah-lighting before and so takes everything in with the obvious curiosity and enjoyment of a lifelong scholar who has made her living immersing herself in different cultures. While she doesn't know the words, she follows along, watches every gesture of those long mechanic's fingers as wicks are lit one by one. There are questions in her eyes, always, but there'll be enough time to pester Itzhak about them.

With Alexander's taller, broader shadow stepping up next to her, she makes room for him - as if it's the most natural thing in the world to find a space for him next to her. Her suntanned fingers lace between his, returns his squeeze. She doesn't move until Itzhak is finished with the ritual, lifting their intertwined hands to press her lips into the tender juncture between two of his knuckles.

Lex, because it tends to work out this way, is walking in at the most inopportune time possible. Or she would be, if she hadn't heard the beginnings of the prayer after she had the door only an inch or so open. It stays that way, just... lingering, like doors do... until the ceremony is over. Probably best that she miss that part, anyway, right? Oblivious, hyperactive, and wearing leather that creaks. Yep, better on the other side of the door.

But the prayer does end, and while she attempts to enter quietly, a wide-eyed glance toward the table -- including an upnod toward Itzhak himself -- has her fleeing to the nearest... not-full table. If she saw Alexander and Isabella... well, no sign of that. Beeline to the kitchen.

The drink's accepted from August with a murmured gracias, and tipped toward Ruiz's mouth as he shifts to prowl out of the kitchen. The lighting of the menorah seems like something they're supposed to stand around and watch, and his dark eyes are alternately fixed on the candles being lit, and the tall, lean figure doing the lighting. In his Jewnicorn sweater. Which kind of kills the mystique, but what can you do?

Then the prayer's concluded, and someone's letting themselves in on the heels of it. Someone with blue hair and- he freezes, like she might not spot him if he stays really still.

Alexander always watches the entrances and exits, so he spots that blue-haired figure as she enters, and he offers a smile in her direction. When the prayer is over, he says, softly, "Alexandria," trying to catch her attention. It's only when he notices Ruiz stiffen that he looks first in that direction, then towards the kitchen-bound Lex. A soft whuff of air, and glance towards Itzhak, before he rubs his face with the hand that Isabella doesn't have. There's some degree of calculation in his eyes, clearly thinking about things.

The ritual is brief, only a quick song in Hebrew (which Itzhak sings with his usual panache), candle flame touched to wicks left to right. Then the homemade copper menorah is burning, three candles, one for each night, and the shammash to show the way. Itzhak sets it on the counter out of the way of most of the action. "Burns till the candles are gone," he says, his eyes on the flames.

Then, coming back to himself, and his Jewnicorn sweater, he grins at the room at large, like the showman he keeps insisting he isn't, and fingerguns at Grant. "Bax, tell 'em the story while we finish this stuff up!" And he's back to work, putting the strawberries apron back on. He runs into Lex at that point and says to her, chipper, "Hey! Glad you could make it." Blissfully oblivious to any tension.

Rebecca elbows Ruiz and whispers to him and Isolde, "I got him that sweater. Isn't it glorious?" She grins an evil little grin because it is horrific to anyone who is not Itzhak. To him, it is perfection.

Grant gets that pride back as his bestie foists approval. Daisy is clearly the voice of reason of the duo. To Alexander he says "Hero called Squirrel Girl from the midwest defeated Thanos once by sending an army of squirrels up the mad tyrant's pant leg. You try taking over anything if rodents bite you in the junk." Sage wisdom. And then there's the prayer for which he stands there at least quiet and well-behaved. Picking up his head to Itzhak bhe looks confused and says "Well Thanos took off after tha- oh. OH the Hanukkah story. RIght." He turns and looks to Daisy, "This one done'st have aliens, but it is awesome cause they pulled it off." Turning he waves for the gathered to get comfy.

"It's totally amazing." Isolde giggled softly, settling in. "I wanna know where you found it." Is murmured before Grant starts motioning for people to settle in for story time! Story time is the best time! There is a brief, curious look to Ruiz when Lex flies by, but she doesn't pry!

August moves to join Itzhak in the kitchen again, keeping one ear turned to the story Bax is telling. Unlike Itzhak, he's not oblivious to Ruiz's reaction. He gives Ruiz an amused look, arches an eyebrow (maybe an invitation to come hide in the kitchen?) and pulls his apron back on.

Alexander furrows his brow at Grant. "I...thought that Thanos was killed by the Avengers. Is Squirrel Girl an Avenger? I don't recall seeing a movie poster about her." Even someone who doesn't read fiction or watch many movies can't HELP but pick up some things by osmosis, but Alexander's sketchy recollection is clearly no match for the horrible convoluted mess that is comics history.

"Squirrel Girl is totally an Avenger," pipes up Isabella from her place next to Alexander. And before anyone could wonder when she became in any way versed with comics, she dashes all conclusions in that direction by lifting her smartphone opened to the character's Wikipedia page.

Google: It's Everywhere A Researcher Needs To Be.

Ruiz is elbowed, and summarily distracted from his tense observation of Lex's approach. The pretty blonde gets a sidelong look, like he's trying to determine a) whether she's being serious and b) whether he should be honest, or polite. "It suits him," is what comes out eventually, dark eyes sliding over the man in his strawberry apron and utterly fucking ridiculous sweater. Then he gives Rebecca a wink, and touches her shoulder on his way back into the kitchen. He'll gladly help August with whatever the hell needs preparing, if it means he doesn't need to make small talk with anyone.

Rebecca beams at Isolde. "Little website called tipsyelves. The Christmas sweaters are equally glorious." Yes, yes they are. "There's one with a Christmas stocking sewn to the front that fits a bottle of wine. For, you know, those family holiday parties."

Wait. There are people here who... was that her name, was that... Lex simply stops where she's at, halfway between the table and the kitchen, to glance around the area. Itzhak, she expected. The other familiar faces? And the surly Mexican? Those she did not expect. Alexander's greeting -- well, let's be honest here, the use of her full name -- has her looking back to the table, and blue 'brows arch upon recognizing the man. At a social greeting. With a girl. Considering the too-sweet smile she's tipping toward Isabella, Alexander's going to come to regret this coincidence at some point. And Grant! Her coworker is given a one-handed wave, and despite Alexander's attempt at a warning, she's disappearing into the kitchen in earnest. There are bound to be fewer people there.

"Tipsy. Elves." Isolde repeated thoughtfully and giggled again. "I wonder if it's too late. To get a crazy christmas sweater..." She thought on it for a moment. "What colors do you like?"

Grant considers where to start and cracks his knuckles. Yes, you get the ASL and the English version tonight apparently. "So a long long time ago in a galaxy right here there were these Syrian dudes who were all ancient and stuff getting their gods on and whatnot, and notice the people of Jersulem were all over there chillin like 'what's your issue, guy?'. And these dudes are like well... you're not following the program. It says on page 8 we're all supposed to be worshiping those guys." He makes like flipping through a manuscript but otherwise looks confused as he lets his fingers catch up with the words he speaks. The fun part is when he starts to get ahead in the story and has to translate and informs "People in Jeruselem were like, Naw we good, bruh. We got ours.'" He pauses setting his jaw and shaking his head.

"So this all out battle starts to break out in a ancient Michael Bay sort of way. This dude named Mattathias and his 5 sons all be like 'Whoever is for God, follow me!' and this full contact picketing really revved up. So they get some bows and rocks and spears and farming stuff to go fight this gerullia war against these guys what totes wanna like kill everybody for being , ya know, not like them. Super bogus. SO! These Maccabees, our heroes here, cleared the way back to the Temple Mount, which they reclaimed like clearing the point in Ilios and just as tough. So they They cleaned the Temple and dismantled the defiled altar and constructed a new one in its place and while they're holed up there they notice they only got enough oil for 1 day. The rest to hold them over wont' be ready for a bit. Like... this is a problem. The good news is God hooked em up and they were able to stretch that out from 1 to 8 days and survive. It was... SUPER bad ass. And that is why still today we light candles for 8 days." Yes, he's super proud of his summary.

"It really does suit him," Stephanie says with a resigned sigh. One day she accepted this lanky weirdo as her tenant, and now look at him. Frying latkes in her kitchen while wearing a Jewnicorn sweater. "It could only suit him," she mutters, and sips her wine.

"AVENGERS!" Hunter yells, enthusiastically baffing the coffee table with his inflated Mjolnir. "Who's your favorite Avenger?" he asks Alexander and everybody, eyes wandering around to make sure everyone tells him who their favorite Avenger is. "MINE is IRON MAN. Pew! Pewpewpew! VROOOOSSSSH!" And he does his Iron Man impression by running around.

In the kitchen, Itzhak catches Ruiz mid-help and squeezes him around the waist. "Did I mention you look great? Thanks for coming, huh?" Bax is telling the story of Hanukkah in inimitable style, and Itzhak stops everything he's doing because he's got to hear this.

"I think you can do rush delivery from them, or find some of the things on amazon if you have Prime," Rebecca tells Isolde. At the question about colors she likes she ponders. "I do a lot of light blue and a lot of rose gold hues, but I like most colors just fine."

Then Bax is telling the Hanukkah story in his own special way and it's all she can do not to burst into laughter, especially since she GETS the Ilios reference from Overwatch. She puts a hand over her mouth to muffle it and looks back into the kitchen at the cooks in amusement.

Fewer people in the kitchen, sure, but one more surly Mexican than Lex probably is prepared to deal with. Ruiz is helping portion food into serving dishes, digging out bottles of alcohol and procuring glasses and plates while August fetches hot things from the oven. Somewhere in the midst of it, Itzhak's arm slides around him, and he nearly drops the long-stemmed wine glasses he'd brought down from the cupboard. "..thanks," comes out a bit stilted, after a second or two. He jostles the man's shoulder as he pulls away, then greets Lex without looking up at her: "Alexandria. Hola."

Alexander stares at Grant. He just stares at him like he's found something either wonderful or horrific, and he genuinely can't decide between the two. He's about to open his mouth and say something that will no doubt not be appropriate in any regard, when the coffee table is BAFFed, and he jumps. Saved by the Hunter! He looks down at the kid, and blinks a couple of times. "Iron Man is actually also my favorite Avenger," he says, despite his limited knowledge of the world of superheroes. "I enjoy people who build things. But Thor's okay, too." A nod to the hammer. His gaze drifts back towards the kitchen, but hey - they're adults. They'll figure it out, and be friends, and everything will be fine.

Daisy smiles brightly as she listens to a Grant Baxter Original Rendition of the Hannukah Story. She can't help the little smirk and shake of her head, and a bit of a snicker as he embellishes a story she knew part of but not the entire tale. When he finishes, she gives him a little round of applause, "Definitely a unique retelling, Bax." The man does know how to make it memorable. She is blissfully unaware of any tensions since she doesn't know anyone, personally. She gives Grant a little nudge with her shoulder and murmurs to him, "Thanks for inviting me along."

Grant's summary earns from Isabella a slow blink, and an appreciative laugh, because the way he describes it isn't just accurate (probably) but entertaining, and she's somewhat strangely proud that even a newly-discovered Baxter can manage to have enough of a facility for history to know his facts and spin it in this way. "Well done," she tells the skater, and she means it.

With Hunter gravitating back to Alexander, she draws her fingers away from his to give him the room to play with him should he choose. Her favorite Avenger? "Thor," she says, though she doesn't say why, but by the faraway look in her eyes, the reason would be apparent: Chris Hemsworth is the only blond exception in her list of very specific rules as to what makes a man attractive.

Lex is fortunate enough to enter the kitchen just in time to see Itzhak's one-armed squeeze around Ruiz's... waist? Definitely more surly Mexican than she'd planned on. Or maybe it's the Jewnicorn. Wait, that's covered in an apron now, isn't it? "Mm... hm," is her initial reply to Ruiz's greeting, and her gaze is flickering toward the various others in the kitchen in a fleeting effort to avoid further interaction. Goddamn kitchen. And Alexander really has too much faith in both of the surly Mexicans present. "Ruiz," she finally responds like a human, before turning a very deliberate look toward Itzhak. "You care if I vape in here?" Weed is almost always the answer. Ask Grant.

"That was the BEST frikkin' Hanukkah story I ever heard," Itzhak says in genuine awe. ('Heard' is pronounced 'hoid'.) He abandons the kitchen so he can come over to Grant and exchange a well-deserved dap. "Nah," he calls back to Lex, "can't around the kids." Welcome to Can't Pick Up On Social Cues, Population: Itzhak.

Speaking of the kids, Philly suddenly bursts into tears. Stephanie hurries over to her. "Had enough, baby?" Philly nods, face mashed into her stuffed Applejack. "Come on, we can go upstairs." Stephanie takes her hand and quietly whisks her away.

Which is just in time for something in the kitchen to go FWUMP and flame shoot up from the hot oil. Itzhak jumps, startled, and a plate goes skittering across the counter on its own and smashes into the wall.

Welp, so concludes de la Vega's one and only attempt to directly address Lex. He seems perfectly fine with avoiding interaction, though slides a glance toward the two children present when she mentions vaping. Then back to the task at hand: helping prepare the food. He's about to weigh in on his favourite Avenger (spoiler: duh, it's Hawkeye), when something on the stove goes up in a great gout of flame. His arm shoots out as if by reflex, to try to shove Lex back.

August coughs a laugh at Bax's rendition of the story as they shuffle around in the kitchen cooking. He brings a few apple-pomegranate ciders and waters out to folks, gives Bax an approving nod for including the ASL. He includes a sippy cup for Philly in this trip to and from the kitchen so she'll have some water.

The grease fire hits just as he's coming back in. He blinks at it, grimaces, and gestures with one hand, sending the pot's lid onto it. Which is the first of a few things that need to happen, but hey, he's one guy.

"I'm partial to Hawkeye," Rebecca tells Hunter. "Because he is very, very brave to fight with these people, without having his own superpowers. Also Captain America." Because that is America's Ass and that is a beautiful thing. Then there is fire and crying and plate smashing and she jumps practically out of her skin but moves into motion a moment later. She works for a chef. She puts out grease fires figurative and literal most days. August has the lid covered, Bex grabs the container of baking soda from a shelf and hands it to the man to smother it with.

Grant smiles in that ignorance is bliss sort of way and gives Daisy's nose a smooch answering, "I'm glad you joined us too. You're family." And from there his eyes swing to Lex. "Leeeexiliciousness, if it ain't I'll hit the porch with ya. Need to talk to you later bout a thing I've been drawing." He looks up "Clint Barton Hawkeye or Kate Bishop Hawkeye?" He can go on about that all damn day. Looking to Daisy he says, "Favourite avenger aaaaand if somehoe a super hero outfit showed up on yoru doorstop because you're my roommate and I may ahve ordered Amazon to march around and to things... what colour should it be?"

"Oh, hm, favorite Avenger? Spider Man. I mean, Tom Holland is beyond adorkable in that totally nerdy sincere adorable sort of way," Daisy says with a grin. "Though I already have an X-Man of my own who is the Gambit to my Rogue. So I suppose if a superhero outfit were to show up, then one like hers would work?" She shrugs her shoulders with a smile, not putting it past Grant to have actual superhero outfits show up at their place. Then there's a fwoosh of flames and her eyes go a bit wide, "Oh.. shit.." But then pot lids are flying and she just blinks. "Huh."

Grant looks pretty proud of her choice. "I should hit up San DiegoComic Con. we should bring yooooour Gambit and I'll go as Speedball. it'll be way neat." Looking to Alexander he grins easy and clearly missed the no nicknames memo, or cared, "So A-Clay, you a builder huh? We should totally talk shop. It'd be neat." As they sit though he points to the other seat by him, points to Lex and then the chair. "I'm so glad I got to meet you all when we're not being shot at. This is a lot of fun."

Alexander is doing his best to ignore the plethora of CLEARLY WRONG NAMES going around, and although he visibly twitches every time one is spoken, he's being on his best behavior, and not reciting the actual, real, true name that the nickname links to. When he hears the whoosh of the flames, it's almost a relief, although he does edge around to peer into the kitchen and make sure that everything is being handled. And that Lex and Ruiz are okay. But he's okay. Really.

And then Grant calls him A-Clay. He whirls on the man. "No. My name is Alexander. That's not even a name. And I'm not a builder." His voice isn't loud, just sharp. And he slinks away from Grant as far as he can in the crowded room.

Grease fire managed ("Good thing you brought latkes," Itzhak says to Ruiz, wryly), crying child managed, other child bouncing in place and he wants to play DREIDEL, you promised we could play DREIDEL!. There's more than enough people who want to lend a hand to get dinner on the table, and it goes more or less smoothly. There's plenty of wine and food, and since this is Itzhak's party, music. At some point he's definitely going to get out his violin. He can't hold Hanukkah and NOT play a klezmer fiddle.

And he is also going to make everybody and particularly Ruiz play dreidel.

At Gohl's funeral, Margaret Addington gave the funeral party a speech about how each little candle would be snuffed out by the darkness. On the kitchen counter of 15 Elm Street, four little candles burn in defiance of the dark. Over the nights, they'll increase to nine, shining out a message of history, revolution, and refusal to let the lights go out.