SHARPE'S MEAL ⚔ WRITTEN | ACTION

[greenjacketed]

[ after the public relations disaster of his last broadcast, sharpe has since kept his journal under a sort of imprisonment: tied shut with leather straps and stuffed in a cloth sack, that sack being knotted as well. but today he gingerly picks it from its incarceration and flicks through its pages until he settles upon one he likes. and then sharpe picks up his pencil.

he writes three messages. as ever, his handwriting is scrawlish, ill-practised, and riddled with errors. none are filtered, although only the first is intended for community consumption:]

LUCETI -- I need to speak with someone who can cook a des--deecdecent meal. [ ugh this is borderline humiliating someone shoot him and put him out of his misery. ] Frogs need not apply, beecuz I don't want the lot to taste like cheese and garlik.

KATNISS -- I'm coming by before 12. We have our wager to settle.

MISS FAITH LONG -- might a man call on you this afternoon?

-- R. SHARPE

[ OTHERWISE the man can be found staring disconsolately at grocery items. some of these things have never before been seen by eyes such as his. in fact, some of these things look barely edible. sharpe's been in luceti for a year, but he just about never goes to the grocery shop -- not when he has katniss looking after him with her stew. not when he can still shoot his own game. but today brings his boots squarely inside this devil's shop. as he browses, he mutters: ] Bloody hell...

[ LATER, sharpe has taken up a sentry position at the bar in good spirits. he's drinking watered down brandy because he can't afford to get drunk tonight. he's on the lookout for a certain fire-haired giant of a man. ganondorf. for it occurs to sharpe that he doesn't know where he lives, only that he's often seen at the bar. so he waits. ]

Comments

[greenjacketed]

[ he reaches out and touches their smooth surface -- seemingly entranced by them all the same, independant of their sparse style.

he gives a low whistle. ] Oi. They're lovely, ain't they? They'll do marvelously.

[ and as if worried he might break it, he picks one so gently from her hands. ]

[fleurdesel]

They'll wash well, and so long as you don't drop them deliberately should be quite hardy.

[She runs her fingers along the edge of the plate before setting it back on the stack, looking around for corresponding bowls or plates of a smaller size. Simply because he did not need them now did not mean he didn't need them ever.]

[greenjacketed]

[ he eyes her with continued wariness. weren't the plates enough...? ]

What are you looking for, Adele?

[fleurdesel]

Bread plates, soup bowls, soup plates, serving platters, silverware and napkins- and this is for an informal dinner service, yes? If this one goes well you might dine with her a second time.

[greenjacketed]

Why the bloody hell do you need soup plates if you've already got soup bowls?

[fleurdesel]

To prevent soup from spilling onto the table cloth. Which you will also need. Nothing fancy, just something plain and easy to wash.

[greenjacketed]

By that fool's logic, you'd ought to have a second -- larger -- plate under the first. Just to prevent spills off of it, too. Jesus.

[fleurdesel]

That would be the service plate.

[Adele taps a slightly larger stack than the first set next to it on the shelf.]

[greenjacketed]

Christ, Adele. You realise, I've bloody well dined with the Prince Regent. And it weren't such an unbelievable faff as this!

[ oh. it was so much more of a faff. the difference is that sharpe didn't have to provide, arrange, or organize it. ]

[fleurdesel]

You are absolutely certain of that? Dining with anyone of that stature would call for a full formal setting that would include at least three other plates, two glasses, and eight forks depending upon the courses served. Of course this is going by what I know if French standards but to be fair at that level the French and English tend to treat formality in much the same manner. We just uee more wine.

[greenjacketed]

[ god. there had been so many forks. every course saw richard watching those around him for clues. at least in the officer's mess, one could forgive cutting corners because they were on the march. but back in london? at court? ]

Yes. I'm bloody certain of that. It were just a few weeks before I came here! [ oh. he's getting impatient. sour. for once, it's not directed specifically at adele but at the world in general. ] Sat next to Prinny myself, woman.

[ he probably shouldn't be calling the prince of wales 'prinny'. ]

[fleurdesel]

[Here she takes pity on him, stacking the plates that they'll need and wrapping them in paper folded for just that under the shelf.]

Which is why we are keeping this simple. Bread plates may double as soup plates, as you'll not need them both, and that is if you feel the need to get them. Service plates can be used for larger meals at a later date rather than with the stack we've found, again, if you feel the need. One fork, one knife, one spoon per setting. Two sets of glasses, one for wine, one for water. A bachelor's dining set. As it'll be you and two we'll only need four settings- and. Don't ask why it must be an even number.

[She wraps as she speaks, four of those rather appropriate plates and sets them aside for Sharpe once she is finished.]

Even I haven't quite sorted that detail out yet.

[greenjacketed]

...In case I break one?

[ he hazards a clumsy guess, touching the paper with his fingertips so as to be rewarded with the soft crinkling sound. ]

[fleurdesel]

...it is a sad, strange thing that the most practical answer is the one that never occurred to me.

[It tears a stuttered laugh from her, that, and she sets about wrapping the remaining flatware that Sharpe would need. Glasses were the next set of shelves over and they could probably find a box or bag for it all on the way out.]

[greenjacketed]

In a sacked city, the china's one of the first things to go. Smashed on the streets in favour of silver and gold. Certainly, the plates are likely bloody precious -- but every seasoned soldier knows it's too delicate to shove in your pack for the march. So it gets shattered, instead.

[ although he responds well to his laughter, he can't help but feel a little sad at the reminder of sieges cracked and men let off their leashes. ] So I suppose I see the stuff broken more often than whole.

[ his own dishes on the march were metal. or they were wooden. and they were few. though some officers carried whole trunks of belongings with them. ]

[fleurdesel]

Why yes, of course, if you can't keep it why leave it for the bloody Frogs that may yet live and have naught to do with the war. Can't have that now, can we? Though French that have nothing to do with the war probably cannot afford the luxury of china. Mm. And I suppose ceramic medical innovations weren't exactly around to be taken advantage of in your time either. Ignore me.

[It's the waste of a possible resource rather than smashing plates that leaves her thoughtful. Though not so thoughtful as to be unable to finish wrapping up the plates and moving down to look for the simplest, sturdiest set of wine and water glasses available.]

[greenjacketed]

Spanish. [ he corrects her, though not unkindly. ] Portuguese. The towns are held by the French, but they're inhabited by our allies. And I can assure you the French terrorized these towns first.

[ still: ] But then, so did we. All the same. So those caught red-handed are hanged for it.

[ except in sieges, dammit. where the frustrations of men who had thrown themselves against walls and mines and guns are let loose as a reward for all that sacrifice. a token three or four are hanged.

and for all the conversation is about delicate china, he decides he doesn't need to suggest who the real casualties are. ]

[fleurdesel]

I truly should have paid more attention in history, or at least made a point to remember. It's a disservice, forgetting. My great aunt would slap me if she knew.

[Never forget the fallen, those that fought, or those that endured-, etc, etc. And this became quite heavy in not that much time and, as per usual in their conversations, it's come from something she's said. She really does need to break herself of that habit.]

Armies fight the war. People endure. If both are lucky they survive, or that is how it always seemed.

[greenjacketed]

The mistake's simple. I hear we push into France soon enough. And I'm keen to cross the Pyrenees on my return. [ sharpe knows that discipline will be difficult. how tough will it be to hold control over troops who have learned how to hate a nation? but he understands that they can't do to the french what the french did to the spanish. ]

But order will be necessary. The moment our army makes an enemy of those enduring people? That is the moment that they, like the Spanish guerillos against French armies, raise and terrorize us. No -- Wellington would rather we arrive as heroes, cracking open the shell of tyranny and saving old France from Napoleon. Relieving the wheelwright and the baker and the farmer from conscription.

[ he picks up a strange mug with a lid. ] It's wishful thinking.

[fleurdesel]

It's a kind thought. A noble one. And simultaneously quite practical.

[For her it's a foregone conclusion, yet she's never truly had the opportunity to appreciate the effort and elegance of Wellginton's campaign until she met Sharpe. She'd have let the dates and details fade away like anything else that she didn't need to know for the sake of her patients. Another boon granted by this place in the strangest way.]

I think that is a beer stein.

[Marginally safer territory, that. Simpler to focus on and discuss as she turns her attention back to the glasses.]

[greenjacketed]

Nosey's a practical man. [ he tilts the mug towards her. ] And if it is, then it's likely something I won't need.

[fleurdesel]

Unless you are compelled to keep a tight lid on your ale lest it dare escape without your permission? [She, in turn, tilts a moderately sized, sturdy, not at all stemmed glass for his inspection.] No.

[greenjacketed]

[ he exchanges the mug for this stemmed glass. sturdy as it is, he hands it almost too delicately between his calloused fingers. ]

Insubordinate ale. [ he clucks his tongue. ] Can't abide by it.

[fleurdesel]

It would set a poor precedent.

[Further back, slightly more delicate but in a similar shape, wineglasses to match. Again it's brought to his attention with a faint quirk of her brow. Does the Major approve?]

[greenjacketed]

[ grace had possessed fine diningware such as this. but they'd barely had a chance to use it between all the scandal and then her death. he touched the edge of his thumb against the second glass's rim and nodded. ]

Thank the Lord I have a large enough table for all this madness.