Who: Sebastian Shaw, tag 2 Hellfire Clubbers When: Saturday, January 9th, 2010 Where: Shaw Manor; outside Washington, D.C. What: Weekend update. Status: Complete Rating:PG-13
Finally, one who didn't cower with shaking hands as she delivered his dinner. Within his own home, Sebastian Shaw rarely ate conventional meals... but more recently he had begun training himself to partake in a less obvious diet. Now that dinner parties were no longer a thing of the past, he found himself in a bind. It was hard for him, when he rather desired the server over what they were serving. So, after a string of human maids had gone missing (whether by his own hand or not), he was thankful to have one who could at least look him in the eye. She delivered a plate of rare steak and finely arranged vegetables seasoned so they didn't taste like the mud they came from. With the food, she also thought it wise to mention, "You have two guests, my lord." Well, it was his own bloody house. He could require them to call him 'Big Bird' if he wished. But he deserved their respect, and would thusly be referred to as 'lord' and 'majesty', as he saw fit.
"Who?" His hand lingered, hovering over his knife. "Set two more places."
"Forgive me, sir, I have yet to meet-"
"Fine." She was new. In fact, he didn't even remember her name, how should she know his guests? Oh yes, she was supposed to ask their names. His hand shot away from his dinnerware and grasped her wrist instead, "Do not permit anyone entrance in my home unless you have a name to tell me." There may have been the faintest sound of bone cracking.
She whimpered and nodded, doing her damnedest to hold in the tears that threatened to spill. God only knew how he would have reacted at that. "Yes, your majesty. I was incompetent."
"Once more and your incompetence won't be an issue."
Another nod.
"Send them in." He knew his guards outside wouldn't have permitted any unwanted visitors. But he had to keep his staff on their toes, didn't he?
She scurried away.
"And bring the salt, would you?"
From beyond the swinging door he heard a quiet, muffled 'Yes, my lord'.
Good then. Joanna. That was what she was called. He locked it to memory, hopefully he would have a taste to associate with the name, should his steak fall below his standards.