Share a meal with the character above you IC

Posted 3 years, 3 months ago (Edited 3 years, 3 months ago) by fizzelston

Yo another day, another thread.
The title explains it all, share a meal with the character above you. This can be a romantic dinner, or two friends hanging out in a fast-food diner, enemies glaring at each other from behind their pizza's etc. Go wild. Be creative!

It doesn't have to be a dinner, or self-made you can share all kind of foods here! (Candybowls, lunches, breakfast, second breakfast etc) as long as it's edible.

Rules are simple:
Respect the other person's OC's diet wishes.

You don't have to describe every movement, sip, snip or bite, but put some afford in it. 3 sentences minimum.
Please no NSFW or violent stuff. If you really want to go dark please black it out. Like this!
You can post again after 2 replies, or if 12 hours have passed.
Please fill in your claim in 22hours. I'll try to send you a reminder after ±10 h. We want to keep the game flowing! If you fail to do so your post gets skipped.

Food related topics:

- You can go on a first food date

-You can also make some food yourself 👀

The first poster gets a freebie.

Emily yanderechips

I'll go first a

Emily will eat anything, go ham

I"M SO SORRY FIZZ,,,, I MEANT TO REPLY 6 HOURS AGO BUT I WAS ON MOBILE AND I WANTED TO SPOILARIZE THIS.,,, POOR BLOU

Emily watching everything go awry

Emily nervously looked around the room, observing the ruckus she had made before. Everything was in shambles at this point, and she didn't want to tell this nice old man that she had to leave so he wouldn't be hit with this luck anymore, she was too nervous to say it. She had apologized numerous times that day, even if it wasn't all her fault. Her scarf had gotten wet earlier from crying after watching Blou fall down.

"W-well, thanks for the lasagna." She stated, watching the heat burst off on the top. Before she picked up her fork, she was suddenly alarmed by Xander burning the roof of his mouth. 'oh no, did I do that??' She thought to herself, near tears as she listened to the older man confront her about the heat.

As she blew on the lasagna, she thought to herself. 'Maybe I should leave and leave this guy alone?'

Xander Klingelhof fizzelston

_{^ EMILY NO POOR BABY}

Xander sat down two plates of lasagne. The pasta was still steaming hot and the warmth fogged up his spectacles.
Clumsily the elderly man tried to dry his glasses, but they slipped and fell with a soft but moisty: THUD right into his own plate.
Just dumb luck, Xander told himself. But ever since his guest Emily had entered his estate ‘dumb luck’ kept happening. Xander had tripped over his own shoe-laces. Blou his dodo had fallen (beak first) off the coffee table. A vase had broken. His curtains had thundered down.
Overall: it was a disaster. Xander plucked his spectacles out of his lasagne. Cleaned them with his napkin. He released his breath. As he just accepted that today, wasn’t his day.

“Oh I’m sorry for my clumsiness ma’am,” he apologized to Emily. Before shooting her an almost shy grin. “I don’t know what’s coming over me, ma’am. I promise you that I’m not always this clumsy…” He said. Still rubbing the pasta from his glasses.
“It’s vegetable lasagne,” he said. Before making a gesture at the two plates. The lasagne looked good though, hot, but good. It had a crusty cheese layer with spinach peppered on top of it.
“I used to make this a lot for my daughter,” he told Emily. Before carefully shoving a plate in her direction. “It’s been a while since I shared a meal _{(roll credits)} with someone. Oh, ma’am I really appreciate the company.”
Xander finally set down himself. He eyed his guest worried before carefully taking a bite of his lasagne.

Hot!
The singer squeezed his eyes shut. Poor Xander just burned his palate on his own lasagne. Speaking of bad luck hu!
“Oh, ma’am, be careful before you take a bite,” he warned her. Distressed.
“It’s still flaming hot,” he said. As he gulped down his glass of water. Xander rubbed his mutton-chop beard clean with his napkin.
“I hope you like lasagne ma’am,” he asked her. But with how the day was going right now, it wouldn't surprise Xander if Emily had a rare - lasagne based allergy. Or hated spinach.
He pressed his lips together. Maybe I should stop thinking, Xander firmly told himself. Or you will jinx it.

_{Xander is a vegetarian! (Suprise!) Your oc can still eat meat of course but don't offer any to Xander (he will politely decline 👌🏻)}

Me éverytime Zinnia and Xander interact

“Oh no, lady Zinnia chocolate is fine! I just don’t eat meat. Like ham and fish,” he said. Giving her a quick smile. “Though, I’m not a fan of chocolate,” he confessed.
“Mind if I?” he asked. As he gently gestured at the bowl. His smile grew bigger when she angled the bowl into his direction. Xander also took a strawberry. Took a bite and started to laugh.
“Oh, my lady Zinnia, Strawberries always remind me of the summer! They are so sweet don’t you think?” he asked. His laugh was still audible in his voice.

He looked up. Then smiled. “Since I was a wee lad, around your age I think! Maybe a bit younger. I was never really a fan of meat to begin plus it was expensive, but…” He paused. “Well, I don’t want to sound like an old man that preaches about his beliefs, Void. We have plenty of old men doing just that," Xander joked.
"But it just went against my belief in things. Though, of course, Lady Zinnia I don’t judge. I don’t mind if anyone eats meat, I.. Just personally prefer not to do so.” Xander plucked the edges of his chopped-beard He’d a small frown on his face.
“Again, I don’t try to come off as belittling,” he reassured her. “It just makes me feel better.”
He nodded and took another strawberry. “Thank you, lady Zinnia. I do appreciate your respect for my decision,” he said. "I really do."
Xander also saw Tortellini enter the room. He leaned forwards and started to make kissy noises. Giving the cat a soft pat on the head as she passed him.

“Oh, my lady Zinnia the honor is all my,” he replied. Genuinely. “I thank you for the strawberries, they always lift up my mood! Like I said... They remind me of the summer! Even though I’m more of a winter-person myself.”
He laughed happily as she hugged him. Then wrapped his arms back around her.
“Thank you, Zinnia. Speaking of winter," Xander paused. As he clapped his hands together. "Next time I’ll bring along some pears. Stewed pears! You should try them one day if you haven't already lady Zinnia!”

Zinnia salternate

"So...that means no chocolate, right?" Zinnia squeaked at Xander. She fluttered her eyelashes, staring at the elder party before tilting her head down to the plastic container of strawberries she held in her hands. She then tilted her head back to the counter. Her hands then reached over to the bar of chocolate she had, fluttering her eyelashes before opening up the cupboard and shoving it in there. She then put the container of fruits in the fridge, pausing to lick her lips before stepping back over to a bowl and carrying it over to the table.

"That's okay!" she squeaked, seating herself next to Xander and plucking one of the strawberries from the bowl. Zinnia fluttered her eyelashes, taking a bite of the fruit before brushing her hair out of her face. After the blonde swallowed her bite, she tilted her head over to the elder party and watched him intently.

"So, how long have you done this vegan—sorry, I mean vegetarian thingy?" The teenager paused to take another bite of her strawberry, tilting her head upwards to make eye contact with Xander. While she listened to the elder party speak, the blonde tilted her head.

"Ooh, it's good that it's making you feel better," Zinnia squeaked before standing up. She held the remainder of her fruit by the thin leaves, walking over to the trashcan and throwing it away. She paused to tilt her head down, watching Tortellini enter the room. She then bent down to stroke the cat's head, allowing her lips to curl upwards before walking back over to the table. She then lifted up another strawberry, taking a bite out of it before seating herself back down.

"Look, I know that I said this a billion times, but it's really nice seeing you again, Mr. Klingelhof!" Zinnia squeaked. After she paused to lift up her hands, she stretched out her arms and pulled Xander. After she was done hugging him, Zinnia perked up, allowing her posture to straighten before she shifted in her spot.

---------------------

NP, Zinnia isn't picky at all! However, she does tend to lose her appetite and stop eating (this won't always happen, though). She's very insecure about herself, specifically about her appearance and weight. Don't let this be a barrier to you, though! Go all out!

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Beato Enn T'Arr kabuto

"Spoils of the hunt, courtesy of me! Given the legends I've heard about you, I assume you're not opposed to raw meat." She beamed. "It's wild boar. Not personally my favorite, but it'll do. I for one prefer cattle myself, but beggars can't be choosers, and I wasn't gonna go out of my way to steal some farmer's cow when there's perfectly fine wildlife nearby to hunt." She handed the elder woman a hefty hunk of meat. "Feel free to let me know if that's too much! Orc appetites are borderline insatiable so it won't go to waste, heh."

Beato had the personality quirk of acting too familiar with strangers rather quickly- for many situations, it worked well in her favor but not always. She was a bit worried because she was a rough rowdy adventurer and was in a situation wherein she was sharing a meal with an aristocrat with a reputation for murder. But in any case, if things were to go south she was prepared for it.

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En Litari II PicklePantry

Both En and Mensa looked down at the "meal" set down between them: several breakfast bars (the discounted price tags still on them), and three (3) onions. En's face, though blink, slowly turned bright red. "S-Sorry," he stammered, bowing his head even more. "This was all I have, and I... I've never really done this before, I thought you'd need some payment--" Letting out a mix between a frustrated and ashamed sigh, he sank down and sat down, turning his back to the ghoul.
Absentmindedly, he picked up the nearest onion and fidgeted with it. "I've never really thought about religion, or the idea of some... higher power behind the forces. I feel like I'd hate it, honestly. Because..." Because if that were true, why would they want me to go through all this? It's what he wanted to say, but he decided against it. Instead, he took a bite of his onion. He stayed quiet for a moment, moving his food around, too scared to look at Mensa; too ashamed.
"I... feel lost," En finally muttered. "I feel like everything's been going wrong every chance it gets, and people just want to watch me fall rather than help me. It feels like I'm all alone. I've heard about how you guys help people." Hesitantly, he glanced up at them. "Do you think that you could help me too?"

En was pretty surprised when Wraith introduced him to where he lived, but was quick to appreciate it. Having to constantly camp or pool funds for a hotel room, he understood how tough finding shelter could be, and a place like this, walling off the harsh winds and the rain? It could be really cozy in the right hands.
"I like it here," he said when he sat down, setting the food down between them. "There's a lot of space. Just a heater or a blanket, and it could be a haven on its own." The two passed some time eating pizza and fried chicken, joking around while exchanging stories. Having this much fun with some delicious food, En wasn't sure the last time he'd done this. In fact, he wasn't really sure he ever had!
... It was nice.
Full and satisfied, En sighed and laid down, arms folded behind his head. He glanced over when Wraith offered to let him stay the night to stay safe, and when he removed his coat the prince could only sit up and protest, "That's too much! You should at least keep your coat on, I can't take everything!" To his surprise, however, Wraith had then shifted his entire form to become a panther. En blinked, surprise clear on his face. How long had he had that ability...?
A silent moment passed, then he put on the coat. "Okay... But if you get cold take the blanket off me, okay?" he warned with a small smile.

Wraith Stormheart SpiritdragonRyuu

Wraith wasn't sure what made him want to share a meal with En, sure they were close, but being social was never top on the shifters to do list, if at all. But here he was sitting in the abandoned building he called his home, they were sitting on the old mats Wraith normally used as a bed and had a variety of already cooked foods on paper plates. Having no kitchen or anything to cook food with, Wraith had suggested grabbing some take out (and of course some extra onions for En), now it was clear why. In addition to some throw away plates, they also got some paper cups to get water out of the water barrel Wraith has in the corner of the room. Apart from the barrel, the mats and a small table, there were no other furniture or decorations in the dark and concrete room. The ripped and tattered blanket Wraith used at night had been thrown to one side, next to where a belt of spray cans sat.

Wraith gave a small sigh, maybe this wasn't such a good idea, his so called "home" or more accurately the only room in the building that wasn't collapsing, wasn't the best place to take your friend to enjoy a meal. However regardless of the first initial shock of Wraith's living conditions, En seemed to be enjoying his time sharing a meal with Wraith. Having cooked foods was unusual for Wraith, many meals which some would consider simple were a mystery to him. Most, if not all, of his meals were raw rats or pigeons that he managed to catch. the art and knowledge of cooking was completely missing from Wraith's skill list, but regardless, he seemed to enjoy the meal of warm pizza and breaded chicken. After taking and eating Wraith looked at the sky and saw how dark it had become, no doubt the streets would be crawling with a menagerie of criminals at this hour. "You can stay here tonight if you want, the streets are pretty dangerous at this time." Wraith said taking his long coat off, revealing the bullet proof vest and long sleeve fleece which hid underneath it. He then passed the coat to En. "If you have that and the blanket you should be warm enough, though I don't own a pillow...."

He heard En protest, worried that Wraith wouldn't have anything to keep himself warm. The shifter shrugged. "I'll be okay." He said before his body began to transform into that of a scarred black panther. The big cat slowly grabbed and dragged another piece of fried chicken and ate it before drinking some water, after he curled up on the end of the large mat, not sure on how En was going to react to him changing into the form he was in now.

--------------------------

Oh bless, these two are complete opposites when it comes to food xD

Follow Up:

Wraith was impressed by the amount of food that was in front of him, probably the most he had seen in his entire life; he was particularly curious about the amount of meat based foods. He could also see his companion looking a little uncomfortable at the said meat dishes, though Wraith could certainly help with that by clearing the plates of any of the cooked meats. When it came to food the shifter wasn't fussy, even during his childhood he ate whatever he could to stay alive, it didn't matter what it was, as long as it was edible and didn't make him sick. Thanks to his, some would say, iron stomach, Wraith could eat just about any type of food and be fine, whether it be raw foods or not. He looked up at M. Pourife as he spoke to the younger male. "I eat whatever I can get, I'm not a fussy eater." He grunted slightly before continuing to chew on a chicken drumstick he was halfway through, within a few seconds their was nothing but a clean bone left.

Wraith could feel M. Pourife's unease around the meaty meals, it practically emanated from the mans body, which was made worse when Wraith, effortlessly snapped the chicken bone in two so he could remove any remaining meat from his teeth with one of the broken edges. "Well, I can assure you that you won't have any leftovers that are of the carnivorous diet, I can take the bones off your hands as well, I can use them." Wraith looked up at the man who had put out this variety of foods out for the two of them, he noted the man looked a bit relieved at this. Wraith was a bit surprised that the other man had wanted to share a meal with him, though he was also grateful, the shifter couldn't remember the last time he had a decent meal. Being injured for a few weeks had certainly made it difficult to go out and hunt, so he wasn't going to turn down the offering of free food.

As the evening went on, Wraith, being true to his word, didn't leave a trace of meat or bone on his plate. "I appreciate you doing this, it will keep me going for a while." He looked up at M. Pourife as he mentioned the locks and the fact the appearances of thieves had gone down considerable, the shifter gave a nod in agreement that it was a good thing. Though he didn't voice it, Wraith did notice that many of the people he had hunted down had been thieves terrorising this area, amongst others that were close by. It was good to hear that other thieves had got the message that they were not welcome in Wraith's territory and that made him smile slightly, though a proud smirk would be more accurate.

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Salvador Wapenburg fizzelston

"I brought you this," Salvador said. He'd held out a bowl of onion-soup into Pourife's direction. The soup steamed in the cold Chapel's messroom. The Old-Chapel was an old building, hard to isolate and always leaking warmth. "Pah send it."
Salvador set down next to the scientist on the wooden chair, that mitch matched with the long dining table. He pricked his spoon in his own bowl. Piercing the cheesy crust on top.
The onion-soup didn't smell too bad though. It looked edible too. It was as thick as porridge and was probably as nutritious.
Food was always a difficult subject for the Half. As it was always the center of survival. Salvador hardly knew the luxury of good food. Void. Even this onion-soup was an amenity for him.

"Pah's in his office. Not sure when he's joining us here," the Kraker said. As he took a spoon-full of soup. It had cooled down considerably from the draft. He gulped.
Ugh too mellow.
Salvador grimaced slightly, but took another spoon full. And another.
Turns out that the cheese on top was too milky, the onions were badly chopped. But it was warm. It was sweet.
"It's going to be cold tomorrow," Salvador said in between bites.
"I'm going to help you get Fitzgerald back. I'm the Kraker's aspirant. Successor," Salvador said. He blew on his soup, then took another spoon.
"I've seen a lot in Goorse. But... I'm glad to be back. Thieving is what I'm good at," Salvador said.
"Heard you are considering sending Fitzgerald there as well. Too Goorse. When we get him back," Salvador explained in between bites.
"Pah wants to send him south. He's thinking of Starqbreek even." Salvador said. Then paused.
"I would rather be a Zeewolf than in Starqbreek if I'm being honest," the Krett added after a long pause. "I've heard they ate snails there."

Salvador when he took a bite (I love Lamb though he's so cute!)

Salvador stretched his hands towards the bowl. "Thanks," he said before showing Lamb an almost breakable smile.
"I like soup." Working in a ''soupkitchen'' had its perks. When Salvador's fingers were warmed up by the bowl, Salvador decided it was time to eat the potato-soup instead of starting at it.
Salvador took a spoon in hand. Spooned the soup and took a bite.
Delicious!
Wide-eyed he stared at Lamb. As if his soup had opened a fourth dimension to his senses. Cream, thyme, spices.. Sausage. Meat!
How long has it been?
Salvador kept staring at Lamb for an awkward long time, before bending over his bowl and wolving it down. Not even acknowledging the bread or his host. Salvador really liked his soup hu.

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Silas the_ace_of_spades

claim!

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Spitwad horseradish

Spitwad sniffed and set a sole plate down onto a table, the table being more of a chintzy, creaky, small piece of trash that sat next to a so called 'couch'. The meal that resided on the plate was nothing too fancy, (shocker), but, surprisingly not a TV dinner of any sorts. Very surprisingly.
Instead, what sat on the plate was .. leftovers. Hey, I never said it was going to be any better than a TV dinner, now did I?

"Last night we all went to this chicken shack! It was .. okayyyy, but I loved their tenders. I know it looks a bit childish, but they're the best when they're homemade -- and oh! If you want it reheated for a bit more, let me know. Sometimes the middle gets cold and gross, but whatever." Spitwad glanced towards the elder party and raised a finger, " .. And I made some hot chocolate with that cocoa powder you gave me! I haven't tried it yet, but Vomit loves it!" Why yes, this grown man did feed his dog what would be considered 'pure cocoa'! But, is anybody here really that shocked?
"So, uh, if you want a mug -- oh, I'll just getcha one anyway. It's already done, I just gotta warm it up a bit maybe .."

After some time rummaging through the tiny, sad, little kitchen, Spitwad made his way out; holding two, luxurious mugs of hot chocolate, topped with the finest one bill store marshmallows you could simply die for. The drummer sat himself next to Dolores, gently placing the mug next to a .. oh. There's the aforementioned microwave meal. But alas, don't fear, Spitwad took the liberty of eating it himself. No grandmothers will die of heart failure on his watch.

He quickly scooped a plastic spoon into the microwavable dinner, swiftly taking a bite out of one food corner. With a mouthful of food, Spit mused; "The tenders are good, huh? If you haven't noticed, everyone's out tonight .. so maybe my bandmates won't notice that the chicken is gone. I'm not the one who saved that, anyway." Cancel Dolores for basically committing tender theft. NOW.
"I hear the place you live in is kindaaaa rich, so I dunno if you get to indulge in shittier food more often .. sorry, ah, pardon my french." Swedish, but okay.

"Ah, and you know me well enough, right?" He started, Vomit sitting mere inches away from the man's face just begging for just a singular, pure, wonderful bite of whatever the hell he was ingesting, "You don't gotta call me Spitwad! That's just a gross stage name, you can call me Roland if you wanna." He smiled and set the tray down on the couch's armrest, immediately causing Vomit's attention to be pulled towards it. A feast the dog truly indulge in, but Spit clearly cared less.

"How's your doggy dog doin', by the way? I have some spare doggy treats in the storage closet if you wanna, I dunno how big she is, but they're decently sized. And they're suppose to clean the dog's teeth, but I don't believe them."

np, spitwad can eat literally anything. but he loves spicy food and would probably eat a bucket of lava if he wanted to. not literally. he just likes spicy stuff.

Nathaniel Clement fizzelston

_{Mod post. Ignore me!
the_ace_of_spades Don't forget your claim!(Dw it happens!) I give you another 12h otherwise I'll claim @Skeletalsquid. 22h have passed.}

Skeletalsquid - Lamb

“Here kid,” Nathaniel said. He held out a small stick with skewered meat. The meat was spiced with black pepper, red pepper flakes, and sesame. He laughed.
“It’s beef. Not sheep so don’t worry,” the harpooner joked. He himself held two of those sticks in his hand.
“It’s a local delicatessen,” he explained. “And cheap, street food. Sometimes it’s made with rat-meat,” he plucked one of his own pieces off the stick. He tested the sponginess of the meat with his fingers. Then laughed at Lamb’s reaction to the potential rat-meat. Like an asshole.
“But I assure you, these are 100% beef.”
Nathaniel put the piece in his mouth. He thoughtfully chewed it.
“Come on kid, take a quick bite. It’s only getting colder here outside,” Nathaniel said.

Nathaniel set down on one of the many cargo crates that littered the port. He took another bite as he eyed Lamb with raised eyebrows.
“So you’re a fashion model, right? Or was,” he asked. In between bites. It didn’t take Nathaniel long to finish one of the meaty-sticks.
“I wanted to be a hand model when I was younger,” he clearly joked.
“Didn’t work out, but I’ve guessed you already guessed that hu! My fingers are all crooked. Decided to get in the harpoon business instead,” he said. Before letting out weak laughter. “Oh, we ate rats on those ships. Rats, fish. Sometimes rusk and if you're lucky fresh meat. There goes nothing above eating your own kill,” Nathaniel said.
“Though it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. The worst thing about sailing is leaving your sweetheart at the port,” Nathaniel said. He started on his other 100%-beef-on-a-stick. “I couldn’t sleep or eat for days. I missed them thát much. Especially when I was around your age. Young and naive hu!”
Nathaniel let out another laugh.
“Though it hardened me in some way, I suppose,” The harpooner mused. He stretched out his legs to make his pose more comfortable.
“Forced me to grow up. Fend for me.” Almost robotic his free hand reached for his ripped ear. His fingers tickled the scars that tighten the skin on his cheeks.

“Sometimes I wish I could be young again. Worry about boys and girls and such,” Nathaniel said. As he made a dismissive hand gesture. He leaned forward as he bit the last piece of beef from his stick. Cracking the wood with his teeth.
“You should treasure that love-sickness kid. 'Cause you’re going to lose it someday and it will leave a hollow feeling in its wake.”

Bengts - Spitwad _{(sorry I read (thought deceased meant zombie for a sec agdgdh) his profile wrong! But fixed it 🙏🏻--)}

“So you eat this. Voluntarily?” Nathaniel asked. He let out a sharp huff and he crossed his arm. The elder- Easterling eyed the two messy cups of instant noodles. ‘Extra spicy’ instant noodles.
“It’s like spaghetti,” he told his fellow soon to be dead-man. “But in water.”
The poor Harpooner was clearly confused by the whole ordeal. He let out another huff, before finally sitting down across from Spitward.
“Okay. Let’s strike a deal, I eat my share of, moobles, and if I finish my plate you and I start discussing stuff,” Nathaniel said. It’s noodles, boomer.
“Stuff about death. Heard you fancy yourself a nice dead-talk every now and then hu?” Nathaniel said. With a lighthearted chuckle.
“What I want to know is why? Why this band? And who are you and why do you want to eat this cheap garbage. But afin. I get ahead of myself,” Nathaniel said. “Food first. Talk later.”
Nathaniel drew his bowl towards him. He gazed in his own reflection. Mirrored back at him in hazy noodle-water.
It was the cheapest noodles imaginable. Those that slowly started to lose their color over time.
Nathaniel didn’t even try to eat those things with a chopstick through. He pressed his fork (points down) right in his bowl of ‘soup’. Rolled them up like spaghetti. Then took a big bite. His nostrils flared. His eyes started to sting and the Half started to cough. Nathaniel rammed himself on the chest as he’d almost spitted out his $0.76 noodles right there and then.
“Spicy,” he managed to mutter, as he finally managed to down the noodles. “Extra spicy.”
Nathaniel’s cheeks colored red and he started to sweat. Again his gaze dipped at his bowl.
There was so much left…

“Maybe I can come up with a plea-deal hu? A 50/50 kind of thing. Meet each other in the middle and such,” Nathaniel appealed.
“Death! Let’s talk about death,” the undead spoke. With regained energy.
“You like that right? Uh, well I drowned. Wasn’t pretty, how about you? If you could pick a way out?” he said. As he carefully started to push his bowl of instant-noodles away from him. Inching it ever so closer to the edge of the table. He kept eye contact with the drummer as his fingers pushed the plate slightly closer.
“How would you die? Cart-accident? Fire?” Nathaniel pried. Before his fingers pushed the bowl over the edge. His ear twitched slightly at the sound of the scattering bowl but he kept his gaze at Spitward. As if the incident had not even happened.
“Bet you pick something stupid huh, kid.”

Nate with his stew

Nathaniel’s nose wrinkled when he saw the amount of food. Fillet, stew. His hand clenched themselves into fists, was this a display of wealth? Nathaniel wondered. As his eyes darted to his guest. Or was he this alienated from reality?
“Oh it sure is,” Nathaniel replied. He smiled adjusted.
“I asked for fish,” Nathaniel replied as he blinked a couple of times. “Not the whole ocean,” he added. Before laughing. A way to soften his sneer. Nathaniel grabbed a plate and poured himself some of the stew. The harpooner sat down across from Smithson and spooned his soup. His eye occasionally darted to the clam.
“Need a hand?” he asked. As he pointed his spoon in his direction. He shrugged at Smithson’s reply. Then suffer old man.

“I didn’t expect you to,” he said. Nathaniel’s ear occasionally twitched from the thud thud, of the clam.
Nathaniel took a bite from his stew. Onions, garlic, the Easterling eyed his plate in silence before taking another bite. And another. His movements restricted to not wolf-down the entire stew in one go. But Void.
Did it taste good.
“I’m a man of my word Smithson,” he said. Nathaniel flashed his teeth in a crooked smile. “You did not ask me to hurt him, so I didn’t.”
He laughed at the suggestions. Then dipped a piece of breath in his stew. “Pourife is scared of his own shadow. Roswell is no better.” Nathaniel tore his bread apart with his teeth.
“Fitzgerald is lucky you forbid me to take things into my own hands.”

Nathaniel snickered. He rubbed his beard free of crumbs with the back of his hand.
“Sure. Though, I bet he would listen to Roswell’s words. The kid harbors some, fascination for him.” Nathaniel eyed Smithson for a few seconds. Before his gaze dipped back at his bread and stew.
He took another bite.
“Squirm?” he repeated. Before meeting Smithson’s gaze again. He did not look away as the other stared directly at him. On the contrary. He started to smile. “What are you’re planning for the lad? Do you want to form him in your image? It’s of course none of my concern but,” Nathaniel paused. Just to let his words linger for a bit.
“The nobility is slowly losing its flair. It’s power. At least here in Drakenburg. Your family only harbors power because the Emperor allows you to. But even the Emperor’s gaze has started to shift. There is a gold-merchant here in town you know,” Nathaniel said.
“One that can fill the treasury. Instead of leaching from it.”

Nathaniel’s spoon hit the bottom of his bowl. He shrugged. “No kid, no money. I’m not stupid Smithson. Far from.”
Again Nathaniel’s gaze crossed Smithson’s before he lifted up his plate and pressed it against his lips. Nathaniel gulped down the last bit of stew that way. That's unpolite!
“Soon,” he only said. “The Old-Chapel is planning a gala. It’s a nice, neutral meeting place.” Nathaniel said. Before setting the plate down with a loud thud.
“I hope that fits in your planner. I’m sure you’re a busy man. But it’s your son we're talking about.”