Gammon gave his characteristic sigh, his eyes rolling at the spoiled girl in front of him. "You realize you are called Waiter for a reason, right?" he asked her.
She just gave a simple shrug and smirked, staring back up at him with mischievous blue eyes. "I don't know, it doesn't matter anyway—I just don't want to do it."
Gammon had to do this every day. It seemed today was no exception. He raised an eyebrow at her, "so that means I have to do it right?"
She giggled and nodded back, "Yup!" Her gaze was clear as it stayed locked with his, and she spoke haughtily. "That is the whole reason I helped you live, remember?"
To which Gammon responded with another sigh. When he came here to break his curse it wasn't supposed to lead to staying in a theater of demons and being put to work by a Waitron. But life didn't usually work how it was supposed to for anyone, especially Gammon.
He gifted Waiter with a dull blink and an exasperated look. And by the looks the girl's expression; Waiter didn't like it. "So what did you need me to do?" Gammon asked.
The vessel squeaked with a triumphant noise and handed him a dustpan and broom. She brimmed with pride that befit her sin as she realized she had won again. "You need to dust and sweep the whole theater. Thanks, Gardener!" she winked at him and scurried off to go relax, not even bothering to address him with his real name.
He shook his head at her and glanced down at the tools he had been given. Well, he lost again, as usual, And he didn't really have a choice now, so Gammon turned and walked away—dragging the dustpan and broom with him.
Gammon panted as the tools were put away. The amount of work it took to clean the entire theater equaled nearly all the hours of the day, but it was finally done! At least, he thought it had taken all day. .. it was hard to tell in the theater, and the forest was so thick that little sunlight came to the bottom anyway. He moved swiftly to stash them away despite his weariness and thought about the history of the place.
The theater, built by a sinner and now inhabited by sinners. Centuries had gone by, building up history and emotion, and unknown to the builder of the place—those centuries would come to one great, and final end here.
He came to a stop as he noticed the door to his room in front of him. He entered and scanned the rather plain place, looking for only one object.
"The Venom Sword…" he murmured, gently touching the ornate weapon. Once the material vessel for lust, and the katakana once used by his ancestor. Did Venomania know what his contract with a demon would lead to? As he pondered over the idea he missed a knock on the door, which also resulted in him missing a certain blonde creeping up behind him and slapping him in the back of the head.
"Are you done sweeping it?" it was the same snobby voice, but it was subtly different… with a somber understone.
"Yes Waiter, I finished not long ago." He shoved away her hand lightly and glared at her in annoyance.
"Good," she said in a satisfied tone, raising her chin in an attempt to seem above him, but it only made Gammon want to laugh at the sight. "Now, you can make dinner too!" That ruined it, and he heaved out another sigh.
More chores? "Very well, but if I might ask, why is it so important for me to even bother don't really eat? It seems like only me and Ma do."
"-Don't forget the Master of the Graveyard!" Waiter added, tilting her head to the side.
"The Master of the Graveyard eats everything though, even intruders," he said dryly. He watched as the girl shrugged.
"It's something that brings the theater together I guess… not that dining with those lackeys is preferable." He could pick up the sadder tones of her voice, even though she still sounded haughtier than anything else. Why did it seem like something was up?
He couldn't just ask Waiter, she'd be too stubborn to admit that something was wrong. He'd have to wring it out of her. "Everyone here is at least some kind of company. Solitude is never good for anyone, they may be insane or cruel, but I'll take them over no one at all." Gammon tried to make his words sound as careless and light as air.
But she still stiffened and Gammon knew that he had hit is target. Now, there was only one more question to answer: is she lonely?
"Pfft—no one here is worthy of my attention," she pushed against Gammon even though he didn't budge. "Nobody here has the sort of connection or competence required to be a companion of any kind," she said with an arrogant smirk. But her blue eyes still glowed with something that betrayed her indignant mood.
That's when Gammon could empathize. After all, that's one of the things they both had in common. They had both lost someone important to them. The ex-soldier knew exactly what it was like to have lost a person who was your family.
"I'm sure your missing one will come back some day Waiter," he started lightly, although his words hardened with a memory that came up. That of his brother. "I, however, don't have that possibility to look forward to," he whispered to her as he left the room to perform his new chore. He heard her gasp behind him, but didn't turn to look to see if she was leaving too or looking at him.
"Ouch!" he spat, and turned his shaking hand away from the pot. The stew bubbled and boiled inside, and filling the air with a hearty aroma. Gammon hastily splashed cold water on his burn caused by the drops of scalding water that stroked his hand and began spooning the meaty soup into a few bowls. He turned and handed the filled bowls to Waiter who; thankfully, was actually doing her job for once.
"So you do know what your name is," he said as she accepted the bowls.
She served him a burning glare before turning and walking out the door. Gammon followed closely behind her. It actually surprised him a bit when he noticed Waiter, she never actually well… waited.
Then she stopped in front of him and he pause; he would hear what she had to say.
"My feelings are undoubtedly stronger than yours, for you may know my past Gammon. But you will never know how I felt." Gammon's eyes widened as she continued. "I am, however, grateful for your understanding." The sincerity in her voice rendered him speechless throughout the whole moment. She used his name… and thanked him for once.
"Well, are you coming idiot?" Gammon shook his head both to clear his surprise and show his exasperation at what she called him. But looked at her standing a few feet in front of him and hurried forward.
I am, however, grateful for your understanding.
Gammon found his seat and bowed his head to each of the others in the room. The master of the Graveyard's annoyed expression, the Master of the Court's appraising gaze, the servant's uncontrollable giggling as they sat on both sides of their glutton master. Even Gear was there, sitting between the Master of the Court and Ma. His face remained impassive and emotionless. Ma appeared intrigued by the dinner, as it wasn't something that happened often. Then, the capricious sorceress spoke.
"About time the two of you got here. I'm rather hungry tonight." Her gaze flashed around the table, stopping to linger on each other resident for a few moments before passing to the next person—although her gaze lingered on Waiter and Gammon the longest.
"Yes, quite! Food is not something that should be dragged out," the Master of the Graveyard said with a frown.
"Is this really necessary though?" Gear inquired, as he stared at the stew with dull blue eyes. "Most of us have no need to eat."
The Sin Vessels were odd creatures, they did not need Human food to eat, but they were living and mortal like a Human. Even the Master of the Graveyard ate only because she wanted to, no longer because she was hungry.
Gammon thought about it, and then cleared his throat to speak. His actions quieted the table, leaving him free to speak. "Please, everyone, no fighting." Seeing that the other residents were starting at him silently, with either intrigue or boredom or annoyance in their eyes, Gammon continued. "We are here not just for the food, but because of this Hellish Yard of a place together."
He glanced around the table another time, then stood up. "While many of us here are nothing more than demons, we all remember the past: the ones that treated our vessels horrible. Remember though, at one point all of you were one, now you're almost completely reunited. This is the one time of the day, that we put away our inner ambitions and just savor the fact that no matter what Utopia is or what our past was—we're together now, as long as it takes."
After that, Gammon quickly sat down, pessimistic thoughts quickly flooding his mind. He tilted his head towards the stew and let his dark hair cover his face. He hadn't expected for his words to take any effect. And by the sounds of it, it didn't as the people around him said nothing and just started eating.
That's when Gammon noticed; they were eating. It didn't really matter that they were as tentative as mice doing so, he exhaled a sigh of relief and thought he saw a certain yellow haired waitron looking at him with surprise, but even she was eating.
The table was silent as everyone ate, except for the Master of the Graveyard, whom devoured her food as voraciously and noisily as her sinner Banica used to. The sight would have been sickening if it weren't for Gammon having seen worse.
He leaned down to his bowl and started eating as well. These people are full of surprises.