gorgonfondness | Meribia Mansion: Rabastan Needs Some Advice

Someone might have made a right pig of himself, unable to resist the things he hasn't had since he was a lad.

Things he'd forgotten about, courtesy of Azkaban. Things he never thought to ask Bar for.

He's enjoying one when a passing beast woman pauses to give him a flirtatious wink and smile before turning away, giggling softly.

Appropriately, he colours and smiles back, giving a slight wave of his fingers as she passes by.

And to think, it probably already took some time for the normal color to return to his face after the bunnies of Ramus's shop tried their latest sales pitches on him.

There was purring.

The guards wave Rabastan in and he's immediately greeted by the sight of maids bustling here and there to cook and tidy, the scent of what's sure to be a delicious feast in the works, and the sounds of swords clanging and men volleying taunts in the gymnasium.

But closer than the echo of those testing their mettle is a conversation between three generations in Master Mel's office: the young and occasionally lisping voice of his carefree grandchild Rachel, the no-nonsense maternal tones of his daughter Jessica, and the boisterous boom of Hell Mel himself.

The door is open and the conversation not necessarily private. Should Rabastan peek, he'll find Rachel bouncing on Mel's knee, the girl looking like a doll compared to her immense grandfather, while Jessica looks over a sketch and notes for a canon.

Seriously it's like every woman who's old enough to be married but isn't [and maybe a few who are and subscribe to the "I can still look at the menu" mantra] is admiring the new look.

And he's still trying to adjust his outfit into order, though that may just be down to nerves.

These ladies at least can keep their minds on the job. A nice job. A job that smells real good.

But good scents can't seem to drown out Mel himself. That's one man who will never need a Sonorus charm to make himself heard above others.

"Hey!" the little girl suddenly declares, noticing Rabastan hovering by the door. "It's Cepheus'ses Uncle Rabbie-stan!"

Jessica and Mel both look up at this.

"So it is," Mel says with a toothy yet kind grin. "C'mon in. What brings you here without the family?"

Goodness Mel. How many stones have you added to your weight? You're bigger than before.

Still fiddling with his clothes: "Taking a holiday, Mel. Nasty sort of business went down in Milliways, so I'm spending time here for a bit, recovering from it."

He still dreams about the wolves, but he's come to see it as another addition to his collection of bad dreams.

"You're always welcome here when things like that happen," Jessica says, walking around the desk to stand closer. "I remember Mia taking a vacation here sometime before and it did some good."

She holds her hand out for her daughter and Rachel hops off her grandpa's knee to go to her mother.

"We can go get a room ready for you if you wanna chat with Dad."

"Considering what happened this time around I should've taken advantage of Meribian hospitality sooner."

Pause.

"Oh. Of course."

Goddammit, Mel, you look taller too.

Mel is taller than everybody, trufax.

"It's good t'see ya around, Rabastan," the beastman says, clapping a great hand on the man's back. "I don't think I've ever really seen you visit like this before. You always seem holed up in your house up in Vane. But Meribia will give you plenty to do to take yer mind off any nasty Milliways business."

He punctuates it with a laugh before getting a really good look at Rabastan.

And then he asks, "Did you get hairier?"

Yes but you don't have to keep getting bigger. Surely you're not in danger of an upstart trying to steal your thunder?

Predictably Rabastan goes stumbling forward, with a loud "OOF!" and a grunt.

Well, it sounds like a grunt.

He frowns. He's not always ensconced in his house is he? He gets out, right?

Save for when he was still under the Slenderman's influence. He might as well have been written off as "Missing. Presumed dead" for all that people rarely saw his face.

Adjusting his clothes [again], he frowns.

"I'm hoping for that. We all need that, now that it's been chased off. Whatever it was."

He feels his chin. Oh Circe is it time for another shave?

"Hairier. Amongst other things."

Have a look Mel.

Rabastan can't handle Mel's muscle.

"You practically look like a beastman," he says with a jolly laugh. "Now if only you could do somethin' about yer wizard physique. Y'might even be skinnier than Ghaleon."

"You should have seen my Potions professor. He'd be your size if he was as tall as you are."

Muggle students would sing "I Am The Walrus" around him, and actually get away with it due to the fact that much of Magical Britain had never heard of the Beatles.

"Still it isn't for a lack of trying. I'd be as big as Slughorn is if I didn't—" He looks about, checking for listeners. "—have my ... condition to account for."

Pause. More stubble examination.

"Think so, huh? Might explain the up-tick in female attention. They think I'm one of your folk now."

That won't be so bad once he adjusts to it.

"Gonna have to get used to it. It's a good thing my Lihrina wasn't a jealous woman, especially back during my pirate days."

Mel goes to the door and gestures Rabastan to follow.

"Come on, let's do something to get yer mind off of that Milliways business. I'm sure we can find a sword even you can handle. Hell, even Ghaleon could manage a sword."

Was that a hint of pride or amusement in Mel's voice?

Will Rabastan be saying something similar twenty or thirty years down the road?

Some of the students have paused in their lessons. Hearing the words "Ghaleon" and "Even you can handle" have them interested.

Especially when they see that even with loose-fitting clothes Rabastan looks like he'd been fasting recently. More so when he shrugs the cape-like piece off his shoulders.

Said students had been getting their training from Kyle.

"Hail Mel, Rabastan," the former thief turned hero calls, finishing his opponents. "Is it time to hit the Seagull Tavern?"

"Not until we can see what Rabastan can do," Mel says, narrowing his eyes at his son-in-law.

The beastman finds a foil and tosses it to the wizard.

Rabastan catches it. Barely.

What? That's what Accio is for. :I

Two more have stopped practising and are now listening in. Kyle's students seem to be taking wagers—

"I think I'm ready," he says, hoping he got the stance right. It's been a while since he last held a bladed weapon.

—not on who's going to win, but on how embarrassing the loss will be.

Kyle is apparently going to be his opponent, replacing his usual sword for a false practice one. Mel will be acting as observer.

(The beastman can wield a double-bladed axe single-handed. It just wouldn't be fair.)

"Better come at me," Kyle says. "Can't see the other way around turning out any good."

Wagers are adjusted, since someone thought Mel was going to deliver the humiliation.

Doesn't make it any less funny as Rabastan tries to shake off the rust when he does as instructed.

The opinion is unanimous: Rabastan is going to need his own Level Zero...

Kyle barely even moves.

"We all gotta start somewhere," he says. "Every night of drunken debauchery starts with a single sip."

Mel facepalms at the enthusiastic use of metaphor.

Nobody in the audience is facepalming. Some of them are doubled up with laughter.

Rabastan looks like he's had lessons all right, but it's clear to everyone those lessons were not recent, as the count of novice mistakes made goes up.

Give him a break, lads? He's trying at least? D:

"You're not too bad," Kyle says, hoping to be encouraging. "Believe me on that. I've seen guys who think they know more hold the wrong end of the sword."

And then: "C'mon, let's go get a beer."

Rabastan smiles. And someone might've lost a bet.

Wrinkling his nose at how aromatic he's become he whips out his wand and cleans off before grabbing the semi-cape.

"Beer sounds good."

Bah, that's the smell of being a man!

"Keep an eye on him, would you Rabastan?" Mel asks. "Or Jessica will be out after him."

Yeah and his senses are keener now, so stay downwind.

"I don't think that'll be a problem with me around to deflect attention."

Maybe he is getting to like the idea?

"Well, look who thinks he's pretty," Kyle says as they make their way out into the city.

"What? Me? Well, It's not too bad. I mean, the changes."

Fluster.

Meanwhile, few yards off a trio of young women are smiling at them. The youngest whispers to her friends, "The skinny one isn't too bad", which Rabastan is surprised he can hear.

"I may not be the only one who approves."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject