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Date Posted: 01:00:37 11/08/01 Thu
Author: Rowan Silvertree
Subject: Dinner is served!
In reply to: Corum & Yorik 's message, "I must be dreaming" on 20:37:24 11/07/01 Wed

Rowan grinned when Ravin passed him the bottle of whiskey. He popped the lid off and took a deep swig, almost choking mid-swallow when he caught his sister giving him a disapproving look. Before he could stop himself, he was laughing at her, which she promptly turned around and ignored, returning her focus to the loaf of wheat bread she was attempting to slice.

Attempting’s the key word, here, he thought, as he took another swallow while her back was turned. Neither of them had probably spent more than five minutes in a kitchen at a time, and that to probably share gossip with the maids and steal a muffin or two---okay, except for him, it was maybe flirt with the maids and steal a sugarcake or two. Same difference. Even as fugitives, Rowan kept himself alive by stealing what he needed or, yes, paying when he actually had the money. He had no idea what Laurel was capable of, after camping out in that forest of hers for a couple years, but he thought he remembered her making a pretty mean rabbit stew. A druid who couldn’t cook, after all, was kinda silly in his opinion, even if she did happen to be a Goldleaf. Anyway, once they’d acquired the inn, neither of them had had to worry much about stepping foot into a kitchen ever again, unless it was to chat with the cook.

Rowan bit into the sour green apple Ravin tossed him, wiping hastily at the juices that spilled down his chin. Although he’d been on his own for five years now, it was still a bit hard to shake those “highbred” table manners. Poor Laurel couldn’t even stand to watch him share a bottle of whiskey with another person!

“What in all heavens are you doing?” she suddenly cried, pausing from her slicing to snatch the “relatively clean” dagger out of Ravin’s hand. The thief wore a somewhat sheepish look as she quickly ran it under a water pump, scrubbing it lightly with some soap before handing it back to him. “Really,” she sighed, shaking her head at him, “You men…you don’t have to be born with a gold rattle in your hands to understand the necessity of sanitation.” She shot Rowan an arch look, and he smiled behind the bottle.

“You’re just jealous cause you didn’t get a gold rattle, sis,” he quipped, tossing the apple core at her, where it landed in her wild orange-red hair. She frowned and plucked the sticky thing out, murmuring, “That’s probably because you stole it from me, you and your itchy little fingers!”

He abstained from answering, because at that point, they were joined by Justin and Eremis. Not exactly Rowan’s two favorite people, to be exact. Justin, for one, was just really…big, even for a human. He had lots of hair and kind of smelled bad…okay, kind of smelled really bad, but worst of all, he could probably take a regular sized guy like Rowan and snap him in two if he ever got the notion. And Eremis was just kind of blah. Nice looking kid who drank too much and rarely spoke unless spoken to.

Well, hell, he didn’t have a problem with that sort of thing, right? “Here, kiddo,” he said, tossing the bottle of whiskey this time to Eremis, “Have some on me. And Ravin, too, since I’m sure he’s an even nicer guy than me, believe it or not.”

Ravin grinned at him, and Laurel rolled her eyes, though there was a smile tugging at her lips, too. He remembered suddenly that he really liked Ravin, ever since he’d first met him when arriving on this world. He was just a really cool dude, as Jeremy might say, and best of all, he was a thief! Rowan wondered if he might be willing to offer some thieving secrets, or maybe swap adventure stories or something. No, actually, the best of all part was that he was single again! Not for obvious reasons (hey, he was Rowan, he couldn’t help it) but because it meant that mean little wife of his wasn’t tagging along any longer. He could still remember the way she used to look at him, like he was about to rape her or slap her silly any second. It always made him feel guilty for some reason, though he wasn’t sure why.

Anyway, he was sure Ravin would be a lot cooler without her. “Come on, people, let’s get the party started!” he yelled, clapping his hands a couple times as he began to rummage about the very large palace kitchen for an actual liquor cabinet. Any decent kitchen ought to have one, and this one….ahhh, this one was no exception. He popped open some more whiskey and even grabbed a bottle of wine for his sister, pouring her a proper glass so she wouldn’t bitch anymore about “cleanliness.”

“Faster, slaves,” he chirped, hopping up onto one of the counters and banging his bottle down on it, “I’m hungry already!”

Laurel had the good grace not to glare at him as she calmly replied, “Then either get off your pristine white bottom and help us or shut your mouth, little brother.”

“Ain’t nothing pristine about this bottom, baby,” he mused, taking another swallow from the whiskey, remembering to slide a bottle over to Ravin, as well. Laurel chose to simply ignore his comment as she and Ravin completed the finishing touches on the sandwiches.

“A gourmet dinner if I ever saw one,” she said, winking at Ravin as they all trooped back into the dining room area. Of course the place was in shambles, but the zombies were already clearing away the dead bodies and doing their slow, undead best to clean the table off and remove any broken chairs or other bits of furniture. Rowan was surprised and happy to see Tia (and Corum, too, of course) already sitting there, so he slid across the top of the table and fell into the seat next to them (next to her, to be exact).

“Howdy, howdy,” he said, grinning at them. “Have some really lousy sandwiches, why don’t’cha.”

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