Categories > Anime/Manga > Hellsing > Dinner Etiquette
Dinner Etiquette
0 reviewsDamien Hellsing ponders the purpose of dinnerware while Alucard gives him some mental comentary--response to a meme challenge.
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Dinner Etiquette
Why were there four of them? It made absolutely no sense to him. Granted, the need for multiple dinner forks boggled the minds of most members of the male gender. However, when you'd spent the first eight years of your life eating 90% of your meals with a straw the need for dinner utensils in general was confounding.
Damien reached up and poked at the smallest fork, ignoring the conversation of the round table members and their families. He lifted the smallest fork and studied the three-pronged tip. It looked like a nasty little weapon and the first thing he thought of was his hand-to-hand combat training with his father and Seras. He touched the tips of the little fork. They were surprisingly sharp.
"Damien," his mother scolded, placing her hand on his knee to catch his attention. "Stop fidgeting." He sat the little fork down, still contemplating its use as a weapon.
Well, they are made of silver, son, Damien heard his father's voice snicker in his mind. You would be surprised how well good silverware can work against the trash out there.
A small grin broke across his face as Damien pictured his father, the mighty Alucard, stabbing a vampire with a fork. He had to fight not to snort out loud at the absurdity, earning him a raised eyebrow from his mother. Damien heard his father's amused laughter. Rest assured, son, if that little dinner your mother has drug you to should be attacked by an army of the undead you have plenty of weaponry.
Damien finally snickered, trying not to draw attention to himself. Integral stared at her son.
"What on earth is so funny? Do share."
Ah, I am just giving my son a few pointers on proper table etiquette, Alucard whispered to her.
She grimaced before replying back to him in her mind. How many times have I told you not to corrupt my son?
She was answered by his amused laughter. Many, many times, my Master. And how many times have I told you, he is /my son too./
Yes, well, if you would, please refrain from your mental commentary until we are in /private/, thank you.
Again she was answered by laughter. Yes, my Master.
Dinner Etiquette
Why were there four of them? It made absolutely no sense to him. Granted, the need for multiple dinner forks boggled the minds of most members of the male gender. However, when you'd spent the first eight years of your life eating 90% of your meals with a straw the need for dinner utensils in general was confounding.
Damien reached up and poked at the smallest fork, ignoring the conversation of the round table members and their families. He lifted the smallest fork and studied the three-pronged tip. It looked like a nasty little weapon and the first thing he thought of was his hand-to-hand combat training with his father and Seras. He touched the tips of the little fork. They were surprisingly sharp.
"Damien," his mother scolded, placing her hand on his knee to catch his attention. "Stop fidgeting." He sat the little fork down, still contemplating its use as a weapon.
Well, they are made of silver, son, Damien heard his father's voice snicker in his mind. You would be surprised how well good silverware can work against the trash out there.
A small grin broke across his face as Damien pictured his father, the mighty Alucard, stabbing a vampire with a fork. He had to fight not to snort out loud at the absurdity, earning him a raised eyebrow from his mother. Damien heard his father's amused laughter. Rest assured, son, if that little dinner your mother has drug you to should be attacked by an army of the undead you have plenty of weaponry.
Damien finally snickered, trying not to draw attention to himself. Integral stared at her son.
"What on earth is so funny? Do share."
Ah, I am just giving my son a few pointers on proper table etiquette, Alucard whispered to her.
She grimaced before replying back to him in her mind. How many times have I told you not to corrupt my son?
She was answered by his amused laughter. Many, many times, my Master. And how many times have I told you, he is /my son too./
Yes, well, if you would, please refrain from your mental commentary until we are in /private/, thank you.
Again she was answered by laughter. Yes, my Master.
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