(2021-10-06) The Bros of Bruuk's Corner - Accents

Details

Author:	inkie
Summary:	Ben and Sil are joined by Lord Colson Aspenwood and Dame Fionette Crawford. Topics include shady business, ladies' fashion, various styles of courting, accents and regional terminology, and the Light going with you. 6000-ish words.
Rating:	M for Mature 17+

Arc: The Bros of Bruuk's Corner

Silvestre rushes up the stairs and waves at Ben.
Bennarin glances up from his beer and up-nods with a grin. "Hey. Thought you wasn't comin'."
[Silvestre]: Ah, no, wouldn't miss it!
Silvestre plops down in a chair and heaves a sigh.
Bennarin peers at Sil. "You okay?"
[Silvestre]: Just flew in from Stranglethorn, I think they gave me an old gryphon or somethin'
Bennarin waves Edris over and nods at Sil. "Sil needs a beer, miss, please." As Edris heads downstairs, he leans in to put his elbows on the table. "Yeah? Stranglethorn? You ever ask around about that … thing? With your sister?"
[Silvestre]: Yeah, yeah, that's what I was goin' there for.
Bennarin raises his eyebrows and waits expectantly.
[Silvestre]: Alright so… I don't like doin' this, but I decided best way I knew how was to be like 'Hey, I'm the youngest Sullivan here to check on the business an' all.’
Bennarin whistles low and nods.
[Silvestre]: So I go to where I saw Sylvie and I pull this, and they seem kinda suspicious but also they didn't kick me out.
[Silvestre]: And so long story short, I guess Sylvie was there on business and not chasin' me or anything.
Bennarin knits his brows. "Okay. Huh. But — you're sure she seen you?"
[Silvestre]: Pretty sure, yeah. There was eye contact. You'd know it if Sylvie made eye contact.
Edris chooses this moment to return and set a beer down before Sil.
Silvestre nods his thanks to Edris and takes a long gulp of beer.
[Silvestre]: But they were real cagey about it, like they were sayin' innuendo or something. Which seems odd if they were really trading perfume, you know?
Bennarin's brow-lines deepen. "… huh. Cagey like … how?"
[Silvestre]: Like 'Yes, all is in order for the perfume shipping to the store,' wink wink.
[Bennarin]: Oh, shit. Yeah, that seems … huh.
Bennarin frowns and drinks his beer.
[Silvestre]: I'm forgetting some details. I think it was goin' to somewhere north of the Barrens or something. But yeah.
[Bennarin]: What's north of the Barrens?
Ben frowns, and leans forward to trace an imaginary map on the tabletop with his finger.
[Silvestre]: Orcs? Elves? I dunno.
[Bennarin]: I mean, that's all elves, yeah — they wouldn't be shippin' to orcs, would they?
[Silvestre]: We're kinda at war with orcs, aren't we?
[Bennarin]: Uh, yeah.
[Silvestre]: Probably not lookin' to trade.
[Bennarin]: You think the trader's up to somethin' sketchy? You think Sylvie knows it and is involve? You think your family knows it, or Sylvie's up to somethin' on her own?
[Silvestre]: I have got no idea. But maybe I should start lookin' into it.
Bennarin nods slowly.
[Bennarin]: Yeah. You lemme know if you need a hand? Or, like — a muscle? I dunno. If you ain't know what you're walkin' into, though …
Silvestre nods. "I don't want to get into anything that'll mess up stuff for the Company. But surely no harm'll come, right? It's just merchants and shit."
Bennarin rubs the back of his neck. "I mean — I seen some of the shit the Defias got up to, yeah? Merchants can do some … bad business too."
[Bennarin]: If it's, like, funnyin' up tax papers or whatever, I dunno how hard they'd be about that. But — I dunno.
[Bennarin]: You said it's perfume they're tradin'?
[Silvestre]: Yeah. I didn't see none, but that's what they said.
[Bennarin]: You smell anything? Around?
[Silvestre]: It's like… Booty Bay. It smells like rum an' fish an' worse stuff.
[Bennarin]: Okay, yeah, but no smell like — oh! Hey!
Silvestre literally jumps out of his seat, and nearly knocks over his beer.
Bennarin sits up and grins at Aspenwood, raising his eyebrows. "Cole? Hey! Ain't expect you."
Aspenwood raises a hand in greeting to Ben, and inclines his head to Sil, as he walks over to sit.
Bennarin blinks at Sil.
[Silvestre]: Oh, hello, Lieutenant Aspenwood.
Bennarin looks from Sil to Cole.
Silvestre looks from Ben to Lieutenant Aspenwood. He says a little stiffly. "I'm sorry, you startled me."
Silvestre sits back down.
Aspenwood sits gracefully, and waves a hand in the air. "Of course, forgive me for coming unannounced."
[Bennarin]: Naw, you're welcome.
[Aspenwood]: I had more time on my hands than I expected, and I wished to check out that book you recommended, Mr. Silentstep.
Aspenwood pats his mageweave bag.
[Bennarin]: Oh, Sil's great at books. What'd he recommend?
[Aspenwood]: "Charge of the Dragonflights." I am looking forward to it. I fear I have nowhere near Mr. Silentstep's expertise on dragons, and I would like to know more, especially if there have been sightings of such in Duskwood.
Silvestre seems to be struck speechless. He looks down at his beer.
[Bennarin]: Oh, damn, yeah. You seen the one in — hang on, lemme do a thing, okay?
Fionette wrings her hands slightly, hesitating behind Colson.
Aspenwood raises his brows to Ben, completely unaware of Fionette behind him.
Bennarin leans forward toward the other two at the table. "We're havin' beers. If you don't call me Lieutenant Hazan, Sil, you can call Cole Cole. Cole, that's Sil. Okay? For beers, at least."
Aspenwood nods at Ben.
[Aspenwood]: Yes, that seems most reasonable.
[Bennarin]: That seem most reasonable to you, Sil?
Bennarin smiles crookedly.
[Silvestre]: Sure thing… Cole.
Sil looks at Lieutenant Aspenwood uneasily.
Aspenwood inclines his head to Sil. "Sil."
Bennarin glances toward the woman by the stairs and surveys her with frank curiosity.
Fionette backs up half a step.
Aspenwood notes Ben's glance and turns behind him to see — oh.
Fionette looks like she is having Regrets.
Bennarin notes Colson's reaction and observes Fionette with even more interest.
[Bennarin]: Hey, miss. No one bites. You want a beer?
Silvestre looks over behind Lieutenant Aspenwood and sees a lady. "Hello, miss!"
[Aspenwood]: Fi. You look…well.
Aspenwood appears to be keeping his eyes very, very fixedly on Fi's face, like a Gentleman.
Fionette grabs her ponytail over her shoulder with both hands, stroking it nervously. "I er… I thought it might be more of a… mixed gathering?"
Fionette has an extremely posh Lordaeron accent.
[Silvestre]: Oh, pleased to meet you Fi. I'm Sil.
Silvestre smiles.
[Fionette]: Pleased to meet you, Sil.
Fionette curtsies before Silvestre.
[Aspenwood]: Of course. Ah. Please, sit.
Aspenwood indicates the seat he had, and moves to the other side of the table.
Silvestre stands and makes a bow, as this is clearly a curtsey/bow kind of meeting.
Bennarin looks from Fi to Sil and raises his eyebrows. His expression says he has missed something and he can't believe Sil is in on the whole Cole-has-a-girlfriend thing.
[Bennarin]: Miss. I'm Ben. You want a drink?
[Fionette]: Oh, I… I'll just have some water, if that's all right.
Aspenwood looks to Ben. "Are they still serving what you ordered last time? Ah, the summer ale, was it? I would not say no to a glass."
[Bennarin]: Sure, yeah.
Bennarin waves Edris over and speaks to her low-voiced. They share a moment's dubious look at Fi at the order of water, but Edris nods and bustles off again.
Silvestre nods at Fi. "And what a lovely dress, ma'am. It suits you."
[Fionette]: Thank you, ugh, I'm so relieved. It's been so long since I've worn a dress I wasn't certain I didn't have it on backward.
[Bennarin]: It's real pretty.
Bennarin surveys the dress Respectfully.
[Aspenwood]: It looks very well, Fi.
Aspenwood averts his eyes from most of it, Respectfully, and appears to be very interested in the mugs’ design.
[Fionette]: A woman was selling them, in Darkshire. She looked… very hungry.
[Fionette]: So I tried on six of them until I found one that fit.
[Aspenwood]: Indeed? Mr — ah, Sil and I were in Darkshire just yesterday. I had hoped to check how things are there. You're still assisting there?
[Fionette]: Yes.
[Bennarin]: Oh, Darkshire?
Bennarin sits up, suddenly more focused. “That was big of you.”
[Silvestre]: A dress that even helped someone in need.
Silvestre looks at the dress, Respectfully? Maybe?
Bennarin looks around the table. He does some mental math, solving for the various unknowns.
[Silvestre]: Oh yeah, I was jus' flowe — gathering herbs in Darkshire. I ran into L… Cole, there.
[Bennarin]: Oh, damn. You're Miss Crawford? I mean, Dame Crawford. Beg pardon.
[Fionette]: Fi is fine.
Silvestre blinks at the Dame Crawford bit. He looks at his beer.
[Bennarin]: Fi. Okay. Just — I did not know when you come in that's who you are.
Fionette looks a bit nervously at Ben. "Does it… make a difference? That that's who I am?"
[Bennarin]: Well, I heard about you. From — a couple've people.
[Fionette]: Oh, I see.
Fionette's face falls.
[Bennarin]: Mr Ference, and Miss Donnach.
[Fionette]: Miss Donnach? Oh, she's my cousin.
[Bennarin]: Yes'm. She said so.
[Fionette]: She… probably said nice things, then?
Fionette peers at Ben searchingly.
[Bennarin]: Yes'm, she did. So did Mr Ference.
Fionette seems very surprised to hear that.
[Silvestre]: Oh, she was a very friendly person. *Sil says stiffly.* She came for beers last week.
Fionette peers at Silvestre searchingly.
Silvestre looks down to see if he's spilled something on his shirt.
[Fionette]: I thought perhaps Kit might be here? Since they said, Colson had "gone to drink with some of the others." Meaning, Cobalt people. Sorry, I'm … rambling. I'm not used to talking to more than one person at once.
[Aspenwood]: Ah, have you seen Kit? She and I appear to be passing ships in the night in Stormwind, since my promotion. I am afraid we have not been able to discuss…matters.
[Fionette]: She… she found me first.
Fionette blushes at Aspenwood.
Bennarin sits back and looks between Fionette and Colson. He drinks beer and does more quiet math.
Aspenwood smiles slightly in return. "Indeed? And that went…well, I take it?"
Fionette turns redder at Colson's question.
Aspenwood's smile grows warmer at that, and he looks at Fi with gentle eyes.
Fionette considers Sil's demeanor, and shifts her weight. "I won't stay long, I just wanted to see if Kit was here, and if not, to tell Colson…"
Aspenwood 's brows raise. "Yes?"
Edris returns with a tray of drinks. She sets a glass of water in front of Fionette, and then slides a beer across to Colson. She also sets new beers before Ben and Sil, without being asked.
Fionette laces her callused fingers together and addresses them. "I suppose… it seems… Kit intends to… court me?"
Bennarin raises his eyebrows.
Aspenwood smiles gently, and he nods. "I am glad of it."
Fionette keeps staring at her fingers. Every bit of pale skin her dress exposes has gone some shade of pink or other.
Bennarin does more silent math.
Silvestre smiles reflexively, losing a bit of his stiffness. "Well, congratulations. If it's welcome."
[Bennarin]: Miss Du Lac? Dame, I mean? That Kit?
[Aspenwood]: The very same, yes.
Bennarin nods approvingly and surveys Fionette again.
Silvestre looks to Ben. "Don't think I've met her."
[Fionette]: I mean, I don't know how it will work out. I've never… you know, courted a… lady.
[Fionette]: But I do admire her very much, and… Well, Sir Black has two mothers and all?
[Bennarin]: … he does?
Fionette nods firmly.
Bennarin looks like math has abandoned him.
Aspenwood nods. "I have faith in both of your abilities to forge the path the Light has shown you. I am glad you spoke to her, Fi, and happy for you both."
[Fionette]: Well, we're not — we're just giving it a try, you see. But I thought it would be all right to tell you.
[Fionette]: She said she would… shout it from a bell tower or something? So I don't think she means to be private about it.
Aspenwood raises his brows at that, and blinks for just a brief moment. "Ah, yes. I appreciate that. I am afraid I would have questioned how Kit was doing, if I saw her yelling from the bell tower in Stormwind."
Fionette giggles!
Fionette 's giggle sounds a little rusty from disuse.
[Fionette]: But I only mention it to explain why I bought a dress.
[Fionette]: And why I'm glad you think this one suits me. I thought you would tell me, you know, without being rude about it.
Silvestre surveys the dress again, to make sure it suits her. "For a special occasion, then?"
[Fionette]: I was thinking of wearing it on Saturday when she comes by Darkshire for… tea or whatever it is she had in mind?
[Aspenwood]: I think it a very fine plan, Fi.
[Aspenwood]: Not that I doubt that Kit is capable of scaling the bell tower and being audible. It would be a shame for her to miss the dress for tea, however.
[Silvestre]: If I were Kit, I'd be very impressed.
Silvestre nods firmly.
Fionette giggles again.
[Fionette]: Thank you, Sil.
[Bennarin]: You sure you ain't want something besides water, Miss Fi? For celebrating?
[Fionette]: I'm sure, but thank you.
[Fionette]: You're all very kind. I don't know why I was afraid.
[Fionette]: Sometimes groups of men can — well, I'm sure you know.
[Bennarin]: We are all very domesticated men, I promise you. I mean I had my doubts about Sil but he does dishes sometimes, even.
Aspenwood takes a long sip of his beer, and sets it down gracefully, cushioning the glass with a pinky to ensure it lands soundlessly on the wood. "Ah. Yes. That is still a beer."
[Fionette]: Oh, if he does dishes he is more domesticated than I.
Bennarin grins and raises his glass to her, and then to Sil.
Silvestre grins a little, and raises his glass.
[Fionette]: I know I look relatively civilized at the moment but I'm afraid I'm terribly uncouth.
[Bennarin]: I am pretty versed in uncouth and you ain't sound a bit of it, miss.
[Fionette]: Well, I sound as my parents taught me to speak, of course, but Colson knows what I'm usually like, don't you. As far as personality.
Aspenwood looks mildly at Fi. "I am afraid I will not be able to support this assertion of uncouth behavior, Fi, as you have on the whole been more honorable than not in your actions, with only one exception."
[Fionette]: How one speaks rarely has anything to do with their nature, and more to do with where they grew up, yes?
[Bennarin]: I like you, miss.
[Fionette]: Oh, well, that's generous of you. I'm rather a blunt instrument, really.
[Bennarin]: Me too.
[Silvestre]: I think a person can choose how they speak, so it does kin— it can reflect their nature.
Bennarin arches an eyebrow at Sil. Bro.
[Fionette]: I'm no mimic, if that's what you mean. I'm not like Lord Ference, who can sound like… however he wishes to sound.
[Bennarin]: Some people ain't had a lot of exposin' to different ways of speakin'. There is people like Lord Ference, yeah. But not all.
Aspenwood tilts his head to one side. "Indeed. We are all of us a product of our experiences. Even those of us who might wish they could speak otherwise, or behave differently, may find such things out of reach."
[Fionette]: I think my trouble is that at first I only heard one way of speaking, and now I hear so many I wouldn't know which one to adopt. So I just stay with what I know.
[Silvestre]: Yeah, acting is not the same. I only meant that it's a thing you can change.
Bennarin nods at Sil. Forgiven, bro.
[Bennarin]: I am practicing. But I have to think about it. And I do not sound city, but like someone who is practicing. I think.
[Fionette]: I wouldn't be able to place you, Ben, from the sound of you, but I'm no expert.
Aspenwood takes another long sip of his beer.
[Fionette]: If I could choose any way to sound, I think I should like to sound like a dwarf. Aren't they lovely? Like music.
[Fionette]: Sir Black sounds a little like that.
Silvestre considers. "If you went somewhere nobody knew you, you could just give that a go. And people would think you'd always talked like a dwarf."
[Silvestre]: Not that I'm saying go somewhere nobody knows you, just an example.
[Bennarin]: He does sound like a dwarf, yeah. I wondered about that some. Because he definitely ain't a dwarf.
[Fionette]: I think Sir Black is from Arathi, perhaps? I believe dwarves originally learned Common from people from that area.
[Bennarin]: Oh yeah? That's innerestin'. Huh.
[Aspenwood]: Ah, yes, the Northern accent. There were many of such in the army, those who followed Lady Proudmoore.
[Fionette]: Southern, from my perspective, but yes.
Fionette laughs.
Bennarin starts on his second beer. The second as far as anyone at this table knows, at least. Edris might know otherwise.
Aspenwood inclines his head with a slight smile. "Indeed, yes. I still think of Stormwind as home, despite the time away."
[Fionette]: One of my favorite accents is the Gilnean one, but likely we won't hear that again.
[Bennarin]: Ain't ever. How's it go?
[Fionette]: I had a Gilnean aunt, a redhead, I absolutely adored her. Mother of my favorite cousin, but who knows what became of them.
[Fionette]: Oh, it's sort of… Hm, I'm bad at accents…
Fionette squinches up her face, trying to think of it.
[Fionette]: "I go' a baad feeelin'."
[Fionette]: Like that.
Bennarin knits his brows.
[Bennarin]: Huh.
[Bennarin]: Sounds like a northerner with a mouth full of somethin'.
Fionette laughs.
Silvestre takes a long gulp to finish his first beer and sets down the empty glass. He grins at Fi. "I can't judge, I never knew a Gilnean."
Aspenwood diplomatically takes another sip of his beer. There's possibly a bit of a smile there.
[Fionette]: Now King Greymane sounded more Lordaeronian, to my ear.
[Bennarin]: You heard him? The King? Talkin'?
[Fionette]: He gave a speech once at the Capital. Great bear of a man!
[Bennarin]: Damn.
[Fionette]: Rather handsome in a rugged way, for an older gent.
[Fionette]: I was very small.
Bennarin nods solemnly at Fi.
[Silvestre]: I never really got much out of Stormwind till recently. Oh, there's this gnome there's got a really neat accent.
[Aspenwood]: A gnome with an accent?
[Bennarin]: In Stormwind?
[Fionette]: Gnomes always sound like Stormwind to me.
[Silvestre]: Oh yeah, no idea what place it's from.
[Fionette]: Hm… I suppose a gnome could have grown up elsewhere?
[Silvestre]: They don't sound anything like Jo or Nish or Tadget.
[Fionette]: I've only spoken to gnomes in passing, doing business and the like. They're… a bit odd, mostly.
[Bennarin]: There is no accountin' for gnomes, to be honest.
[Silvestre]: "I think they're neat," Sil says quietly, starting on his next beer.
[Bennarin]: Oh, hell, yeah. They are. Smart as anything. Captain Jo's somethin' else. But I just … yeah.
[Aspenwood]: I worked with several remarkably talented gnomes over the past few years, but none that I could call beyond a bowing acquaintance.
[Silvestre]: Maybe should meet Nish. Pretty sure anybody she meets is already past that by three seconds.
[Fionette]: So you've been traveling up north, haven't you?
Fionette looks between Colson and Ben.
Bennarin glances back at Fi and has another sip of his beer. He nods. His gaze drifts past Fi to some movement on the stairs, and he hesitates and sets his beer down.
[Bennarin]: Y'all ‘scuse me a minute, I'll be right back.
Bennarin gets up and vanishes down the stairs, after whatever or whoever he'd glimpsed.
Aspenwood inclines his head to Fi. "Yes. We…were in the Plaguelands this past week, working for Argent Dawn."
[Silvestre]: "I was not," Sil adds, taking another long gulp of beer.
[Fionette]: It's terrible, isn't it.
[Fionette]: Or at least, I assume it hasn't gotten any better in the past few years.
[Silvestre]: Judging by the newsletter. Cap said something about not bein' sure what the air would do to people.
[Fionette]: It's fine.
Aspenwood's jaw clenches for a only a moment before he relaxes it. "Yes. It… if this were an improvement, I am afraid it does not recommend itself for how long it will take to recover it fully. There were…"
Aspenwood looks down at the table and appears to take a breath to compose himself more fully. "There were Scarlet Crusade there as well."
Fionette frowns.
[Silvestre]: Thought you all were mostly fighting the undead?
[Fionette]: And I'm certain they didn't care that you were fighting the same enemy they were.
Aspenwood grips a hand around his mug slightly too tight. "We did not engage them directly, save for those that… forced the altercation."
Fionette's blue eyes simmer with anger.
[Fionette]: It's just so ridiculous. They should be joining forces with you!
Aspenwood drains the rest of the beer, Ben style. "Yes. But at least… they serve some purpose there. They were fighting the undead, when they were not making themselves into a nuisance."
Silvestre looks between the two of them, and opts to just drink his beer quietly for the moment.
Bennarin returns quietly and slides back into his seat. He has somehow obtained a third drink, though his second beer still waits for him on the table.
Fionette glances to Sil. "I apologize. I suppose these matters don't particularly concern you; forgive my rudeness."
[Silvestre]: I reckon it might, if it's not stopped up there. Just, I know nothin' about it, so maybe I shouldn't run my mouth.
[Bennarin]: Ain't runnin' your mouth, Sil, it's a conversation. I reckon they don't mind if you got questions.
[Aspenwood]: There have at least been none of the Scarlet Crusade in Duskwood, I trust?
[Silvestre]: I never saw any.
[Fionette]: They are strictly a northern phenomenon. None have been sighted even so far south as Hillsbrad or Arathi, that I know of.
[Aspenwood]: Good. Let us hope it remains that way.
Bennarin looks between his third beer and his second. Decisions.
Silvestre looks quizzically at the two beers. Are they different?
Bennarin has a sip of the third beer and then, diplomatically, sets it down and takes a sip of the second one.
[Fionette]: I can confirm, at least, that you won't get ill simply from wandering about up there.
[Fionette]: I think you have to actually consume something tainted.
Bennarin glances up. "We did wonder it. The smell is — somethin' else. They got cauldrons of it boilin' into the air."
[Aspenwood]: Fi here is a much underutilized resource in information on such matters. Should you have questions, she will likely have the answer.
Aspenwood inclines his head to Fi's Tips and Tricks On Not Getting Plaguey.
[Fionette]: I survived largely by breaking into abandoned houses and finding very old stores of food, sealed.
[Fionette]: I boiled all the water I drank. For a long time.
Bennarin studies Fi, brows knit sympathetically.
[Silvestre]: Glad you made it out of there, miss.
[Bennarin]: Yeah. And I'm sorry to hear you — yeah.
[Fionette]: But yes, if you bring your own rations and water I think you should be fine.
Bennarin nods.
[Aspenwood]: Of course. And we are traveling with trained mages, capable of both conjuring and creating portals. I believe we are well situated to make precision strikes without risk to our health.
Bennarin tips his head at Colson in agreement, still studying Fionette.
[Fionette]: Ah yes, mages!
Fionette laughs.
[Fionette]: That's how I got out of there, too.
Silvestre takes a sip, having missed whatever was said about mages.
[Fionette]: I was so lost. I'd wandered completely the wrong direction, almost to Quel'Thalas.
[Bennarin]: Damn.
[Silvestre]: That's gotta be a long way.
Silvestre looks uncertain. Maybe should've paid more attention in geography.
Aspenwood appears to be doing mental math for how far that would be, and frowns slightly.
[Fionette]: The most beautiful elf found me and said something that I feel almost certain was very rude, though I don't speak Thalassian, and then he made a portal and sort of… shoved me through it. I fell into the Stormwind mage tower.
Bennarin gives a low whistle.
Aspenwood taps his hand once on the table. "Ah. I see. That… must have been very disorienting."
[Fionette]: It was.
[Silvestre]: That was lucky! I mean, even if they said something mean, they sent you somewhere safer.
[Fionette]: Yes, I like to think he meant well. I'm… almost certain it was a he. He was rather flat down the front.
Bennarin grins and drinks more beer.
[Fionette]: But he had on a very beautiful robe and had the loveliest chestnut mane of hair.
Silvestre glances at Fi, who is not flat down the front, then turns respectfully to his beer.
[Aspenwood]: Indeed. Although, that it might have been worse does not discount the unpleasantness of the experience. But, it is well that the Light opened the path in his heart to send you this way.
[Fionette]: Yes, the Quel'dorei believe in the Light, too, some of them… or used to.
[Fionette]: Light knows what they believe in now that they've fallen in with orcs and all.
Bennarin grimaces.
Aspenwood inclines his head at that. "Indeed. Though the Light is not incompatible with the Horde, they do have very… different beliefs on such matters."
[Silvestre]: Do orcs and trolls and whatever believe in the Light? I mean, maybe some of 'em?
Fionette shrugs at Silvestre. Who knows?
Bennarin snorts at Sil and drinks some more. He glances at Colson though, just in case.
Fionette looks to Colson too.
[Aspenwood]: Most I spoke to believe in its existence — after all, it is demonstrably present. But, few spoke of it as anything other than… something like the arcane or such. It is more of a concept than a system of belief.
Fionette looks between Sil and Ben. "Are you… do you believe in the Light as well?"
[Fionette]: I mean, as a path.
[Fionette]: Rather than just … a concept.
[Silvestre]: I'm not a priest or a paladin, if that's what you're asking.
[Fionette]: You don't have to wield the Light to let it shape you.
[Bennarin]: Yes'm. My aunt is a priest and my — uh, I guess actually my … ma? is a priest and my … father? is a paladin.
[Silvestre]: And your girlfriend's a priestess.
[Bennarin]: Also yes. My girl. Friend.
[Fionette]: Well, you seem very blessed, Ben.
Bennarin nods respectfully to Fionette. "Yes'm."
Bennarin looks at Cole. "Do I say 'girlfriend'?"
Aspenwood inclines his head at that. "If you wish. It is commonly understood vernacular, and as long as it is agreeable to Miss Callis, it's acceptable until formal declarations are made of engagement."
Silvestre takes another long sip of beer. "Yeah, things can get tense if you start with fiancee before all the people agree."
[Silvestre]: In courting, in general, I mean.
[Fionette]: Where I come from, "girlfriend" means, a female friend.
[Bennarin]: Oh. Well, I mean — yeah she is … the girl I am — courting with intent to marry. However you call that. Wherever you're from.
[Bennarin]: Anyhow.
Aspenwood inclines his head to Sil. "Yes, quite. Fiancee may apply best, if such has been agreed upon."
[Fionette]: I've no idea what to call Kit. We're not bound by all those rules, so none of the words mean anything anyhow.
Silvestre glances to Fionette. "Nobody's bound by rules 'cept those that agree to 'em."
[Fionette]: Precisely!
Fionette smiles at Silvestre.
[Aspenwood]: Well said, Sil.
Silvestre smiles at Fi, then stands. "I guess I'd better head out now. I'm gonna go poke after that thing we talked about, Ben."
[Fionette]: Oh, well, it was nice to meet you, Sil.
Aspenwood stands and makes a quick bow to Sil. "Good evening, Sil."
Bennarin sits back. "Sil, careful, yeah? You lemme know if you need anything?"
Silvestre nods to Ben. "Yeah, I will."
[Bennarin]: Okay.
Silvestre adds to Colson. "Good evening to you too… Cole."
Bennarin watches Sil go with a line between his brows.
[Fionette]: I er, I should go too, now that I got what I came for… advice on the dress. And more than that. Lovely conversation, thank you. I'm… that's… I'm not used to that.
Aspenwood stands once more to bow to Fi.
Bennarin stands up too, politely, since The Lady is leaving.
[Bennarin]: It was nice to meet you in person, Miss Fi. We should talk more sometime. About Duskwood an' that.
[Aspenwood]: I am glad you came. Please, convey my warmest regards to Kit when you see her next.
Fionette curtsies.
[Fionette]: Light go with you both.
[Aspenwood]: And with youl
[Bennarin]: Yeah, with you.
Bennarin sighs and sits down with his two beers again.
Aspenwood notes the sigh and multiple beers. "Everything all right?"
[Bennarin]: Oh, yeah. Yeah. I worry about Sil some.
[Aspenwood]: He appeared to be very competent, and his name well chosen. We met yesterday in Duskwood, and I watched him slip past four worgen completely undetected. I am still unsure how he managed.
[Aspenwood]: Even with silent footfalls, he managed to take into consideration the wind for his scent, and remain unnoticed.
Bennarin arranges the two beers, rearranges them, gives up and pours the third one into the remains of the second. He drinks Consolidated Beer and nods at Colson.
[Bennarin]: Oh, yeah. He's good as hell with his knives and the sneakin'. Half the time me and Mizzy don't know where he's gone.
[Bennarin]: But I think he might be gettin' mixed up in a thing you can't knife-and-sneak your way out of, you know? And he's too …
Bennarin considers, frowning.
[Bennarin]: I don't know the word. Not, like, innocent about it? But kind of innocent about it. Like, I think he thinks too good of people.
[Bennarin]: He's sunny, is what.
[Bennarin]: Because he's a hell of a good fellow and I think he is ready to believe everyone else is, too.
[Aspenwood]: Indeed?
There is a very slight frown to Aspenwood's brows. "If there is aught I can do to assist, please do not hesitate to call on me. If there are those that may bring him harm, I may be able to… make some inquiries.
Bennarin nods at Colson. "I might do it. Let you know. I got an eye on him. I think."
Aspenwood shifts slightly in his chair. "He… that is, when we spoke, he made a point to state that he is not longer of the Sullivans. I had assumed the name change to be for aesthetic reasons, but, if they are a source of concern…" He waves a hand gracefully.
[Bennarin]: I mean, I think it was mostly because his people ain't sh— they have not been real good to him. I don't think he thinks they're shady or nothin'. But now I am startin' to wonder.
[Aspenwood]: Ah. I cannot say I am surprised.
[Bennarin]: He might've thought you heard of 'em cos they're money, in Stormwind.
[Bennarin]: Not noble, but money.
[Aspenwood]: There was… an attempt to match his older sister, Sylvie, and I, before I joined the army.
Bennarin raises his eyebrows and falls back dramatically in his chair. "No shit? Sylvie? He know that?"
[Aspenwood]: It was not considered a… desirable match by my parents. The Sullivans have wealth, but were not quite what my family hoped for in my prospects.
Bennarin nods.
[Aspenwood]: It was quite some time ago. He could not have been older than perhaps sixteen at the time, and I do not believe he was out in society. I do not recall meeting him, at the least.
[Aspenwood]: I only vaguely recall her, to be entirely honest. She was polite, and said the correct things, but other than that, I am afraid nothing made much of an impression upon me.
[Bennarin]: Does he know? Like, you said anything to him? He heard about it? I just — I got to say I'm pretty curious about Sylvie Sullivan myself now.
[Aspenwood]: Ah, yes. That was what… I mentioned her to him, and he made it clear that he no longer considers himself a Sullivan.
[Bennarin]: Ah, okay.
[Aspenwood]: I did not meant to cause him offense. I am afraid I assumed the moniker was not a severing of his familial ties. As I remember the family, they would be displeased to know that one of their prospects for marriage had left the fold.
[Bennarin]: Sil run off a while back. He said they ain't seemed real interested in gettin' him back.
Aspenwood shifts his weight. "They are not unlike your Miss Callis' family in that way. Each child represents an opportunity to marry into the nobility. They may have assumed he would return eventually, or that in his absence, manage to tie himself to a noble name.
Bennarin frowns.
[Bennarin]: Well. Worked for Mizzy, I guess. But only by about six kind of accident.
Aspenwood smiles. "Yes, well, in her case she found nobility of spirit before nobility of name, and that is for the best."
Bennarin's ears turn red and he makes a face at Colson and gulps beer hastily. Nobly.
[Bennarin]: Should set Sil up with your sister. Wait, no, she's got a fellow, huh? … Also I'm jokin', sorry.
Aspenwood rests his hand on the table for a moment, and inclines his head. "Yes. Harbrooke. It has been a long engagement. Nearly ten years now."
Bennarin coughs on his beer and has to compose himself. He stares at Colson.
[Bennarin]: Ten years engaged?
[Aspenwood]: I am afraid that despite that time, I do not believe they have deepened their acquaintance beyond whatever was made on those first few meets.
[Bennarin]: They … what? Why the hell not?
[Aspenwood]: Yes. The talks between our families began when we were young, sixteen or so, and formalized. However, like me, Harbrooke joined the army to assist the war effort.
[Aspenwood]: Cressidha and Harbrooke, ah, Mordecai, are an arranged match. They did not choose the other. Such things happen, when it would be most agreeable for the families involved.
[Bennarin]: Okay, I mean, I get the whole — I do not get it, but I'm gettin' familiar, anyway, with the whole formally-arranged thing. But if you are gettin' tied to someone for life, why in hell would you not like to get to know 'em?
[Bennarin]: I mean — no offense to your sister. She's a fine girl. But.
Bennarin peers at Colson. He lowers his voice. "Somethin' wrong with him?"
Aspenwood taps a finger once on the table and studies it for a moment as though the table might know about these things. "I fear that on her part, Cressidha finds him… boring."
Bennarin sits back again, mortally wounded. "Ouch."
[Aspenwood]: On his, the trouble is that he… may find her rather intimidating. He's a very competent healer, but there is a deep shyness to him. He has never found speaking easy, although once you do get him to speak, he does speak well on subjects he knows.
[Aspenwood]: But I am afraid Cressidha would not be easily wooed by talks of the best ways to optimize organization of medical equipment.
[Aspenwood]: In truth, they are perhaps not well suited to one another, as much as our families are well suited.
Bennarin considers this. "I can see a fellow might find her intimidating, yeah. What about if you got 'em together with you, though, or somethin'? I mean, it sounds like you get on with both of 'em, so you just kind of … start 'em talkin'?"
[Aspenwood]: Ah. That has been my hope, but it appears that the war efforts have made Mordecai taking leave difficult.
Bennarin frowns.
[Aspenwood]: Leaving the army, even for a short time, is no easy matter. It took me over nine months to be approved to leave the army, and that was expedited due to my name.
[Bennarin]: Where's he stationed? Two of you can't go see him?
[Aspenwood]: Ah. I left on good terms, and honorably, but I fear I cannot access the records of current movements of the troops. All I know is that he is in eastern Kalimdor, possibly north.
Bennarin sighs.
[Bennarin]: That is a conundrum.
[Aspenwood]: Yes, well, and I fear I would be an unwelcome annoyance.
Aspenwood smiles slightly. “I would not want to be the overbearing younger brother.”
[Bennarin]: I mean, if they are just standin' at opposite ends of the thing, kind of, and not talkin' to each other, I don't see how it's overbearin' to kind of get a conversation started. But maybe that's me. I ain't mind gettin' a conversation started.
[Aspenwood]: As it is, I am congratulating myself for not placing a Blessing of Protection on Cressidha this past week, although I confess I came close several times.
[Bennarin]: Oh, yeah, how is it workin' with her? Like you hoped?
[Aspenwood]: Indeed. Cressidha is very competent, and it is remarkable to see how far she has progressed. It was as though we had been working together for years, despite everything.
Bennarin nods approvingly. "I'm glad."
[Aspenwood]: I believe I can restrain my impulses to coddle her. And it appears as though Mr. Atley and Miss — ah, Ivri, are well versed in working together, despite their relationship.
[Aspenwood]: I anticipate no difficulties there, at least.
Bennarin winces.
Aspenwood notes the wince, and blinks at Ben mildly for a moment.
Bennarin opts to drink his beer politely for a minute, but then he runs out of beer. He sets the glass down and sighs.
[Bennarin]: They're on the outs.
Aspenwood closes his eyes for a moment, and sighs — actually sighs — before raising a hand to call over Edris. "I see."
Bennarin nods grimly at Colson, and then at Edris. Because Edris understands this kind of thing too.
Aspenwood orders another beer politely, and places a hand on his temple for a moment.
[Aspenwood]: Do you believe it necessary to reassign one of them to the other squad?
[Bennarin]: I dunno, if I'm honest. I mean, we'd take either of 'em, and happily — it'd probably have to be Miss Barlowe, reckon y'all need Mr Atley, White's got me for that job — but she ain't say anything like it.
[Bennarin]: She is movin' house, though.
[Aspenwood]: Yes. I agree.
Aspenwood sighs again.
[Aspenwood]: I shall keep an eye on it, then, for now. There is, of course, nothing against fraternization among the Company, so there is nothing officially in the Code of Conduct for this type of circumstance…
[Aspenwood]: but I shall assume for now that we will not have any concerns, as there is at the very least no formal chain of command in the Company.
[Aspenwood]: I shall ensure that Miss Callis is notified of the change of address.
[Bennarin]: Mr Atley is professional. Miss Barlowe is — young. But I never seen her be — I mean, I wouldn't doubt her. I reckon they can sort it between themselves, and if one of 'em's got to be moved, they'll say it.
Bennarin passes verdict on Miss Barlowe's youth with the wisdom of a man at least one (1) year her senior.
[Aspenwood]: Yes. And if necessary, I will say something, but unless there is need, I shall respect their privacy on a personal matter within the Company.
[Bennarin]: Yeah. She was not real inclined to talk about it. And I am not gonna press on a thing like that.
[Aspenwood]: Thank you for informing me of it. I prefer to be aware of such things, if I am expected to intervene in the matter as a Lieutenant.
Bennarin nods at Colson.
Aspenwood accepts the beer from Edris with clear gratitude, and drains half of it Ben style.
Bennarin watches Colson and silently approves of his technique.
[Bennarin]: I should get goin' for the night. I got the tab downstairs, so no worries.
[Bennarin]: See you tomorrow?
Aspenwood sets the glass down soundlessly, and nods. "Yes. Thank you, Ben."
[Aspenwood]: If you do not mind, I will remain for a little longer. I should like to think on things.
[Bennarin]: Okay. You want another drink, you put it on my name, yeah? And — go with the Light, and whatnot.
Bennarin puts his hands in his pockets and nods a farewell.
Aspenwood smiles and nods. "Yeah, and with you," he says with a wink and a straight face.