Sunday Dinner with the Family

[Ninorra]

It was perfect, in her eyes.

Vicailde, as head of the household, would sit at the head of the table. To the right of him, his son Damian, still in a baby chair, would be perched in a secondary position of importance. Accross from Damian, Ninorra would be stationed, with her back toward the kitchen so that at a moment's notice, she could retreat to fetch whatever anyone might need. To her left, Saphiara, and accross from Saphiara, her husband's grandson. He was young, attractive, and most importantly, sweet.

The kitchen smelled delightfully of roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and gravy. Once finished with their appetizer, a lovely salad with dried apricots and cranberries, Ninorra would excuse herself to place the cherry pie she had lovingly made into the oven to be browned. Once the main course was served, she would pull it out to be cooled, and would have just the right amount of time to serve it, still hot, to her family. Damian would be a perfect little gentleman. Vicailde would be proud. Saphiara would be beautiful, and she would fall in love with Vicailde's grandson, and they would all live happily ever after.

The sudden white-hot feeling of a second degree burn told Ninorra to wake up.

"Damnation!" She shrieked, pulling her hand away from the pot of gravy that had boiled over. She made a mental note not to daydream while cooking, and made a gesture with her unblemished hand to put out the flames. Regaining her happy posture, she retrieved a dishrag and claned up the few droplets of brown creamy gravy that managed to stain her oven, and skillfully poured the mixture into a brightly shined silver gravy boat.

Taking a step back to admire her roast, vegetables, and gravy, Ninorra mentally congratulated herself on a job well done. It was then that Damian's high-pitched scream caught her attention, and sent the warlock sprinting into the foyer.

"Damian!? What's wrong!? Are you alright??!" She asked in a panic, looking down at the two year old as he sat on the first stair.

He looked up toward his mother with a mixture of frustration and anger, bright red eyes flashing. "..cookie."

[Saphiara]

On her previous visit to the Bloodstone household, Saphiara had subtly stolen ('preemptively borrowed', in her mind) a back issue of some housekeeping periodical her sister subscribed to. Since Ninorra was planning an entire formal evening, Saphiara wanted an idea of what to expect.

Spending a nice evening with her sister was perfectly fine. Including her nephew was also perfectly acceptable. Adding in Vicailde? This was going to be a long evening.

Saphiara had flipped through the pictures in the periodical, trying to decide what to wear. Because Ninorra was the hostess, she knew she didn't want to pick out something extravagant and overshadow her sister. Besides, she wasn't trying to impress anyone.

After a couple of hours of flipping back and forth through the magazine, Saphiara went to a boutique, opened up to a random page, and asked for a dress that could generously be described as 'that one'. The saleswoman had taken pity on her and helped her find something appropriate.

An hour before the dinner, Saphiara changed into her new pale green dinner dress. The saleswoman had picked out a dress meant to flatter her skin and body shape without being trampy about it. After all, she wasn't going to this party to attract a partner.

When she was ready, Saphiara grabbed the box of chocolates she had purchased for a gift and walked out to the stables. She initially headed towards her motorcycle, then changed her mind when she thought about the amount of soot she would be wearing when she arrived at her sister's front door.

Her next choice was the shining white talbuk she preferred when attending diplomatic functions. She prepared the saddle, but stopped when a realization came to mind. In order to ride one of her mounts, she would have to hike up her dress and expose her legs to an obscene extent.

She didn't actually know how to ride sidesaddle. It had never been an issue.

"...now how am I supposed to get there?"

[Vicailde]

"I don't understand why you don't dress up nicer. You're always wearing that suit." Talion murmured quietly as the Sin'Dorei tailor measured the seams of his new tuxedo.

Vicailde grunted, lounging in a near by chair looking extremely bored. "I don't understand why you always where that silly outfit."

Talion smiled and nodded to the tailor who whisked off with his new measurements. The young Sin'Dorei picked up his black cane, small brass ball adorned on top, and his brand new scarlet top hat to match his new outfit. "I think it's classy."

Vicailde rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before withdrawing a pocket watch. "We're going to be late..."

[Ninorra]

It took Ninorra twenty minutes to convince Damian that a cookie was inferior to the pie that lay in wait. It was not easy to compromise with a two year old child, but eventually, he forgot about his desire for a cookie in favor of playing with his mother's earrings.

"No no, darling, we don't tug--ah-ah-ah...!"

The boy's laughter echoed through the house, distracting his mother from the sound of chewing. However, when that sound did manage to reach her long ears, Ninorra made another run for the kitchen. She discovered, much to her horror, that the enormous doberman that had been gifted to her husband during their anniversary, had made a meal of her freshly prepared gravy. Wagging his tail with pleasure, he licked Damian's feet in spite of his mistress' disapproving shrieks.

"No! No, bad dog! Oh gods, no, he's going to smell! Now you need a bath--, oh no, not on the table!!"

This last bit, she added in response to the orange cat that had taken a nap on the silver serving tray of the dinner table. It looked like a macabre main dish. Using her foot to push the dog from the kitchen, and eventually, out of the kitchen door, Ninorra rushed to the table and screamed at the cat until it ran. She did this with Damian still in her arms, still pulling at her earrings, her newly coiffed hair loosening itself from the forced straightening. A few curls stood on end, like rambunctious cork screws, as she rushed up the stairs to hastily bathe her son.

[Saphiara]

In the end, the solution was simple. Saphiara just needed a carriage.

Unfortunately, her family had never owned one, since their duties meant they were always with the King when he traveled. Nor had Saphiara bothered to purchase one for herself. With less than an hour to spare, she didn't have time to find one.

Fortunately she was an engineer. Improvisation was in her blood.

She coaxed her rather stubborn kodo from its stall in the stable - this task was going to require some pulling power, so the bigger the better. Next she threw her bike into neutral, deployed the sidecar, and used rope to lash the motorcycle to her mount.

Saphiara stepped back and reviewed her handiwork with a satisfied nod. It wasn't pretty, but it would get her to her sister's without forcing her to expose the lower half of her body for any random passerby to oogle.

Saphiara wrapped herself in a longcoat - no need to dirty her new dress - and slid down into the sidecar, chocolates on her lap. She took up the makeshift reigns, and with a snap ordered the kodo to begin the trip.

The kodo, clearly unimpressed with Saphiara's ingenuity, looked back with a glance then continued chewing her lawn.

[Vicailde]

Vicailde and Talion finally existed the tailor an hour later, Vicailde murmuring something under his breath. "No more hold ups, we barely have enough time to get home."

Talion brushed one of his long red bangs out of his face. "What's the big deal, she's just inviting her sister or something over, right?"

Vicailde stared distantly pocketing his hearthstone after requesting his driver pick them up. "Dinner parties are a big deal for Ninorra.. and they tend to... not end well.." He muttered gruffly.

[Ninorra]

"No good no good!!" The warlock cried frantically, running her half-naked toddler from one side of the house to the other. Having already bathed Damian, she went to dress him, when to her horror, she discovered that the dog had decided to take a nap on his clothes. Now, with her guests on their way, she only had moments to find him a suitable change of clothes before fixing her own hair.

In his drawers, she managed to pull something together that combined black baby trousers and a shirt. It wasn't as cute as the other outfit, but it would do. Breathing a sigh of relief at her comely son, she took a brief glimpse in the mirror, and screamed at the sight in front of her.

"My hair!!"

Indeed, the long black curls that she had painstakingly straightened at her favorite salon was now a mess. It had come apart from it's tight bindings, to create a frizzy and disheveled look that was quite reminiscent of her younger, poorer days. With a whimper and a growl, she carried Damian back into her bedroom where she took out the many pins used to hold her hairstyle, and tore a comb through her hair.

The end result resembled something of a tumbleweed. On her head.

"..oh gods," she whispered, throwing her fists into the air. "Why have you cursed me with such unmanageable hair!?"

[Saphiara]

A solution was finally found by having Servitor sit on the kodo's saddle, holding a long stick with a carrot dangling from the end of it. Eager for the treat, the beast forgot its stubbornness and began chasing the vegetable. A bribe was a small price to pay to make her sister's house on time.

Of course, she hadn't realized how gassy kodos got when they were in a rush.

Fortunately, her bike's emergency kit came equipped with a gas mask. The rest of the ride was spent breathing through an air filter. She just hoped the stench wouldn't cling to her clothes.

One short but stench-infused faux-carriage ride later, Saphiara arrived at the Bloodstone manor. She hoped out of the sidecar, desperately straightened her dress back out as she prayed the fresh air would eliminate any lingering remnants of kodo flatulence.

She peeked in the side-view mirror to adjust her hair slightly - though one of the odd side-effects of her Light-given powers was that her hair always seemed perfectly styled - and also checked her teeth. Satisfied with her appearance, she strolled down the walkway to the front door and swung the knocker, announcing her presence.

[Vicailde]

Vicailde poked his head out of the carriage. "What's the hold up?" He grunted up to the driver.

"Seems to have been an accident blocking the road, sire." The Sin'Dorei responded softly as he stood to get a better look.

Vicailde huffed and grabbed his coat. "Come, Talion, we're walking I have no desire to sit in a carriage forever when I have two working legs."

Talion shrugged and grabbed his belongings before following Vicailde turning to look towards the driver. "Be sure my bags get back to the house, will you?"

The driver bowed slightly. "..but of course."

Talion's smile was cut off as Vicailde grabbed his shoulder and began to drag him away. "Will you stop dragging your damned feet."

[Ninorra]

The table was sat. The candles were lit. Her hair had been wetted down with water, oil, and diluted perfume, and loosely styled. Damian sat in her lap. The dog was outside, the cat circled the floor, and somewhere, in the stables, Vicailde's horse and Ninorra's succubus were doing things best left unsaid.

Ninorra sat in the sofa, waiting. The roast had long since gone cold, and after playing with Damian to pass the time, they both fell asleep in the living room, still looking their best.

The warlock held her son close, and mumbled in her sleep; "..no.. not those.. the chocolate ones.."

[Saphiara]

She had been standing out on the front doorstep for quite some time now. Saphiara was fairly certain that it was well past the appointed time of arrival, but there was no answer to her continued knocking. Some kind of frantic horse whinnying was coming from the rear of the house, and judging by the accompanying grunting and screaming she was resolute in her decision not to check the back door.

Saphiara tried the knocker again, and when there was no answer she sighed. She wished she had her engineer's belt with her, but had left it behind since she had no way to wear it without it being extremely obvious. She could break down the door easily enough, but the resulting conversation would not be worth it. So she waited, and continued to knock occasionally.

As she stood there, a rather large dog walked up beside her, gave her a knowing glance, then sat next to her and stared patiently at the door.

[Vicailde]

"The stench! It was the stench of death!" A woman continuously spotted out nonsense and a few guards attempted to calm her and coax her from her wrecked carriage

"Ma'am, we assure you the scourge are not re-invading. It was probably live stock in one of the supply wagons or something.

"THE STENCH I TELL YOU! DEATH! WE'RE ALL DOOMED!"

Vicailde sighed as he gave Talion an extra tug, the younger stopping to watch the scene.

[Ninorra]

Knock knock.

"..no.. the dark one..."

Knock knock.

"I said.. darker.."

Knock KNOCK.

"The DARK one, damn it.."

BAM BAM BAM!!

"Mama?"

Ninorra jerked her head up from the sofa cushions and blinked in shock. Someone was at the door? Someone was at the door!! Picking up her bewildered son, she ran to answer it, only to cry with glee at the sight of her well-dressed sister-in-law.

"Saphi! You look beautiful!" She proclaimed, half of her hair flattened by her nap. "Oh, we're going to have such a lovely dinner.. I've made--.. do you smell sulpher? Must be one of my demons.. anyhow, I've made a roast, and pie, and, oh!! It's probably cold now!"

Without an explanation, the overly stressed wife and mother hurried back into the kitchen, Damian giggling at her hip as he bounced along.

The dog stared up at Saphiara.

[Saphiara]

Having been blitzed by her sister's welcome and subsequent departure, Saphiara and the dog stood together in the open doorway. The dog, seeing that she had brought a gift that was OBVIOUSLY for him, gestured at it with his snout.

"These are not for you."

Saphiara walked into the foyer and looked around the otherwise empty first floor. A combination of singing, childish laughter, and crashing pots came from the kitchen. In the dining room, what had obviously been a carefully arranged placesetting was now slightly askew, with candles sputtering low from a long burn. In the living room, a cat was making noises that brought to mind a combination of vomiting and strangulation.

On the plus side, Vicailde was nowhere to be seen.

"Hmm. Perhaps this evening can be salvaged then."

[Vicailde]

Vicailde sighed heavily as Talion dabbed his face with his handkerchief. "Didn't realize how long of a walk it was, Uncle."

Vicailde sighed as they approached the manor and he opened the front door. The large dog, knowing better than to jump on Vicailde, bound past his owner and did a sprawling leap into the air onto Talion knocking the thin Sin'Dorei to the ground with an exhausted 'umf!'

"Agh! My new tux!" Talion whimpered quietly. Vicailde pushed the dog to the side muttering something as he helped Talion up. The younger elf's hat now half squashed as it sat lop sided on his head.

[Xyria]

(( "Vicailde's horse and Ninorra's succubus were doing things best left unsaid."

lmfao!!! I laughed out loud when I read that. This is an awesome story so far guys, I am anxious to see what happens. :) ))

[Ninorra]

It had taken a large amount of ordering people about before Ninorra finally had people seated. The low burning candles were replaced, Damian sat uncomfortably in his high-chair with his blonde curls drying into a wild series of poofs on his head, the cat was outside, the dog in the basement, and all of the demons had been suitably banished. They sat around the table, with a large meal before them, reasonably reheated.

Ninorra cleared her throat and restrained a scream.

"Well.. thank you all for coming."

[Saphiara]

Saphiara sat still - very, VERY still - in her seat, hands folded politely in her lap. For civility's sake, she could manage not to strangle Vicailde for a few hours.

She would also attempt to avoid the same for Ninorra, whom had quite clearly engaged in a conspiracy of matchmaking by placing a potential suitor in the seat directly facing her, so that she could not completely avoid him without suffering from neck strain.

If he tried anything, she was more than strong enough to cause one of her light shoes to deliver serious harm to sensitive body parts by launching it with a snap off her foot.

The mental image of planned violence against the men at the table brought an unintended smirk to her lips, which she quickly squashed for fear it would be mistaken for flirtation. Instead, she resumed her 'serious paladin face' and nodded to the hostess.

"Thank you for inviting me, sister. The food looks quite... appetizing."

She squeezed out the last word after her keen eyesight picked out a cat hair in the gravy.

[Vicailde]

Vicailde nodded with a small grunt as he piled food onto his plate. "Yes and we apologize for our tardiness... there was a large wreck on the road here.. had to walk most of the way."

Vicailde waved his hand lightly in the air. "something to do with a stench of death in the air or something... woman was obviously delusional."

Talion fiddled with his crumpled hat for a moment before sighing in defeat, he smiled at Saphiara. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced yet. I'm Talion, Vicailde's ne- er.. grandson..." He laughed lightly turning towards Vicailde. "hm.. that's still hard to remember.. you've been uncle since I could remember."