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Author Topic: Dinner with Grandmother  (Read 1607 times)

Wes

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Dinner with Grandmother
« on: October 19, 2015, 11:59:45 PM »
{So wonderful, prim and proper Grandmary is yours to do with as you will in your replies as well/as you need. Let the fun begin! <3}

A part of Wes had never expected to see the Gondorian coasts again, let alone Dol Amroth, after all it was too risky, returning the lad back to those who may just seize him up to safety yet again and hang the crew for kidnapping along with the rest of their piracy.

But they had essentially saved him from the shipwreck...they may have also caused...the morals of it all were hazy and Wes by now convinced that he would at least speak up for the crew who were his friends...all but Nir of course; yet even he had yet to all out attack the boy. Giving Wes the confidence that Grandmary would be safe.

It was a ludicrous plan by all accounting! Pirates and Dinner with his Grandmother in the manor's elegant dining room! Wes had poured as careful wording as he could into the letter telling of his allowed return and lessons with the crew. Showing them the basics of eating and not repelling other dinner guests by ones' eating habits.

By all accounts they were as ready as they would ever be...

Still, Wes was more than a bit hesitant and nervous as they ported and he lead the way, first down the ramp and onto Gondorian soil. The boy didn't know why (well he did) but he expected authorities to come swooping in to arrest the crew at any moment. But then that didn't hold, a few of them as well were from Gondor if not Dol Amroth and had to be able to secretly visit home without dodging guards every single time...or maybe they did.

At any rate, this coast was clear but for the average fisherman or wandering citizen. Second problem was what would they think when they saw the manor house? They already sort of knew where he came from, but...more than a few of them were sure to rag more than a bit, yet perhaps good naturedly.

Wes couldn't even try to ponder and factor in Grandmary's reaction...though it had been his main concern all along. As they walked to the house, thankfully they were still largely unexpected or coordinating with unsure putting into port times for a carriage to deliver them to the house was nigh impossible. So they walked. And Wes had a bit more time to try and remind as to good behavior.

"Now, remember, Grandmary's...", delicate wasn't the right word...

"Anyway, just try not to...burp at the table...or stab any of the roast meats, they will be served and..." Just don't make my grandmother faint please.... Wes recognized he was nit-picking. "Sorry, it's just...Grandmary's very...particular and...likes clean and...proper. I want her to let me stay...".

After such a statement, Wes promptly skipped over it by jogging over the rest of the distance and to the door, giving a proper knock at the knocker. It was a showing thing that Grandmary herself answered and not one of those of the house.

"Wesley my angel!", the boy was instantly squished over into a hug. He was so happy to see her himself that he didn't correct the full-naming, yet felt a bit awkward recalling the crew was behind witnessing this dotage. Not that he could blame her. She'd thought him dead not too long before.

"It's good to see you again, Grandmary! Um...this is the crew that...saved me...sort of". Wes had tried to show the Staunch Harlot and her crew in as fine a light as he could without lying when explaining...

Sig made by wonderful Cass ~

(palegoldenrod)

Barabal

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Re: Dinner with Grandmother
« Reply #1 on: October 25, 2015, 12:41:04 AM »
OUTFIT, WHAT IN THE HELL DID I GET MYSELF INTO?

“Don’t sneer.” They first told the captain as they went through this properness preparation, slouching on her desk, arms and legs crossed in irritation.  She didn’t sneer, Barabal attempted to correct at one point, but her voice drowned as the list continued. “Don’t curse.” Well, she might as well stay quiet throughout the dinner’s duration. “Try enunciating better.” …Or not.   “…Might be best if you wore a dress…” Well, where the hell was she going to keep any of her… “And no weapons, please?” Had she mentioned how much she hated all of this?

Barabal was still trying to understand how they found themselves in this situation - or rather, how they had arrived into agreement.  The boy had first tested the suggestion in a moment of tenacity, a jest even in its ludicrous nature - pirates visiting a lady’s home, whoever had ever heard of that? Perhaps she had spoken too soon; no, she had spoken too soon taking Wes’ request at face value instead of it being an actual request. ’We’ll go, if ‘at is what you need,’ she still recalls saying, eyes never lifted from the notes before her. If she had only looked up, if she had taken a mere moment to have her gaze flitter up, Barabal might have seen the genuine surprise that had colored the boy’s features. Genuine, not a test, and most definitely not a jest. But the captain hadn’t spared a glance, waving his away the half-stuttered ‘thanks’ as he scurried away. That, she expected, would be the last of that.

Except it wasn’t.

Frankly, the captain had completely forgotten about their little exchange until the discussion came to light, the young cabin boy announcing that the letter to this ’Grandmary’ had been sent - and their attendance to dinner was expected, mandatory even. Barabal tried her best to ignore the situation as long as she could, figuring the child would sooner forget than take them through that ordeal. Of course that never happened, just the captain’s luck. As time came and went, the boy’s eagerness grew instead of diminishing, and the captain had to make the decision of setting things straight. They would not be traveling to Dol Amroth and they would definitely would not be attending any dinner. 

Except she didn’t; tell him, that is.

While able to stare down any man and see the threat of her death as normalcy, the captain could not find it within herself to break the young boy’s heart. It was one visit, one bloody dinner, one day. That’s all that was needed - one day to leave this nonsense behind and for normalcy to return to the Harlot. Well, as much normalcy that the pirate crew seemed to offer.

Considering her current state, however, she would have much rather correcting Wes early on.

Barabal walked, as did all of them, the skirts of the damned dress hoisted to her arm as she moved. Twice she nearly stumbled during their little outing, the fabric caught awkwardly with the sheathe secured to her thigh - what they didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt them after all - making her regret the decision more than once. A comfort really more than a necessity to keep the captain grounded throughout the exchange.

“Now, remember, Grandmary’s…”

Wes was talking and Barabal’s gaze flickered from the road below her and to the small child briefly as they continued to walk. She was half-aware of how he explained his grandmother’s nature yet again, a more nervous wreck she hadn’t seen - Endearing, really. - before his words fully garnered the captain’s attention. “Stay?” The woman repeated to herself. The statement, a seeming afterthought lingering with them. Is that what the child wanted? Barabal’s lips fell open in mild surprise, looking after the blond mess that bounded down the road. Wes’ intentions should come as no surprise if she were to be perfectly honest, she had been expecting it for a while, but hearing it; well, it was different. Closing her eyes, the woman took a breath before giving a short little sigh. If that is what the boy wanted, so be it.

“Well, you ‘eard ‘im.” She said, glancing back, the red fabric slipping from her arm, grazing her legs as it pooled about her feet. “Best be on our best be’avior ‘en.” Please don’t bloody steal anything. Smoothening the fabric, the captain followed after the boy, making her best to remember not to do, well, anything.

"Wesley my angel!” And that must be the infamous Granmary, Barabal chuckled, watching in mild amusement as the woman pulled the child against her.

“A pleasure,” The word seemed so heavy now as the captain spoke as clearly as she could muster, after the young boy’s introduction. “…Wesley He even had a longer name she had to pronounce? Shit. “…has spoken volumes of you, my lady.” Well, in the past couple of weeks he had at least. “I am, Barabal, captain.” She froze, shit. Was she even supposed to say that?

Maker, this was going to be a long night.

Wei-Tao Ning

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Re: Dinner with Grandmother
« Reply #2 on: October 29, 2018, 01:16:35 AM »
For one, Ning didn’t have to cook dinner. For once, he wasn’t obligated to clean his own dishes (not that he minded, mind you). For once, he didn’t have to toil over a stove. For once, he was going somewhere nice.

Was he going to one of the most expensive places in town to eat? Was he going to be dining with the politicians, and rich people that could afford to buy the building they were dining in? Was he going to eat fine cuisine from the most prestigious chefs by the shore?

Well, if not, then why had he taken care to pull out his most prized item of clothing. In a locked, flat box, folded with extreme care was the most expensive piece of clothing that Ning owned. It was a black silk tunic, cropped at the knee. On the right, not to be hidden from sight, but for all to see: embroidered birds indicative of his home land. It cost him a pretty penny to have it embroidered, but when he hung it on the hanger to steam the creases out of the material. He did the same with the matching silk pants, and took care to clean the shoes.

The money suit was meant for his old age. When he would retire from pirating the seas, bays, and other odds. The fact that he pulled out for this occasion meant something. No one had ever seen it. Not even that nosey Bowen! Tsh, but who was he fooling? Some of his crew mates would mock him for his choice of clothing on any other occasion; this one he felt secure in bringing out his best. So, when he saw that the others had also dressed just as nicely - or as nicely as they could - he knew this was important for the entire crew.

Scallywags they may be, but when the occasion called, they could be best dressed crew on the sea. He had to applaud Captain Barabal for her choice. She had an impeccable knack for matching making a ship, and exactly what sort of people it would take to run her.

Before they departed, Ning noticed that Wes was behaving rather strangely. The Rhunian’s eyes watched the lad as they docked. This wasn’t the usual excitement he showed on a normal basis, granted they were going to go meet the woman he had been talking about non-stop since they took him to be one of their own; and unease prickled at the back of his mind. He had seen this behavior before. Ning, for all it was worth, tried to find Captain Barabal to tell her that he thought something wasn’t quite right! This wasn’t an ordinary visit. *Ning and Wes had grown close since day four (the first three days had been spent getting over the initial shock that his father’s boat had been raided, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean). Ning spotted the Captain as she emerged from her cabin, and made to intercept her for a quick word, but was shut down as she stared making sure that the ship was secure.

*

Ning had never been in such a lovely district. The houses were nice, they had lawns, and it was clear that these people had money. Whatever Grandmother’s income was, Ning certainly wanted to know. The approached the gate, and Wes started to talk. Ning’s own fears from earlier returned, but it was too late to say anything that would matter at this point.

Could Ning really blame the boy? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t at all. If it had not been for his own past, Ning would have been just as excited to see someone he knew. Yet, he felt nearly sick to his stomach. He thought of Wes like a brother, or as close to a son as he would probably ever get, and he knew that the entire crew felt the same way. So, when Wes started debriefing them for the uptinth time, and the word “...Stay…” left his mouth, he wasn’t as surprised as the Captain. Ning slid his eyes to each crew mate to watch their response. To see if they had caught it.

Wesley my angel!” The old woman said. Her fine clothes spoke volumes. For an elderly woman she was dressed well. The jewelry she wore was tasteful, he thought, and her hair  was done up fashionably, but not of the latest style. He smiled at her when she cast her eyes to the Captain, the crew’s pride and joy. “I am, Barabal, captain.” The captain stated, then stopped.

Ning took this moment to draw Grandmary’s attention away from the captain by stepping forward, and bowing as was traditional of his roots, “And I am Ning, the Chef. It is indeed a pleasure to finally meet you. We have all heard so much about you...” Grandmary looked a little surprised, but smiled, and gracefully turned to the rest of the crew, waiting for them to introduce themselves. 
#7F3D3F ||| #976635

Tags: pirates