Reaver's Servants
Powerful Stuff
The crates had arrived just in time. A lot of crates, filled with a special drink Reaver had ordered specifically for the party he was going to be throwing in two days' time. Lord Logan, the Queen's Head Advisor (as well as her brother and former king) was staying for a few days. He was a "silent partner" in Reaver's business enterprises, and had come back to Albion from his travels to check on things. It wasn't that he didn't trust Reaver…it was that he didn't trust Reaver.
Barry opened the crates with a crowbar and Reaver smiled down. Barry picked up a bottle, not recognizing the writing. "What kind of alcohol is this?" he asked, looking over the bottle.
"It's called 'sake'. Apparently it's made from rice, and comes in a variety of flavors and acidities." said Reaver, taking the bottle from Barry. "That means it's quite expensive and if I find you drinking any without my permission, I will do something very unpleasant." He said, glaring at his attendant. "Logan recommended this stuff to me. I am curious…" Reaver rubbed his chin and watched the liquid in the bottle swirl around like a rain puddle. "Go get Gordon to help you take this stuff into the kitchen." commanded Reaver, as the delivery man piled more crates into the foyer. Reaver cocked an eyebrow and stopped the man. "I only ordered ten boxes." He said, snidely.
The delivery boy exhaustively put down a wooden box and showed Reaver the order sheet. "It says seventy, Sir." The boy said a hint of passive-aggressiveness in his voice.
Reaver looked over the order sheet. "You idiot! Can't your company distinguish a one from a seven!?" he yelled, smacking the boy with the paper.
"Look, Mr. Reaver, I don't take the orders, I just deliver them. It's all already paid for, so you're stuck with them."
Reaver's eye twitched. "Even I don't drink this much. What the hell am I doing to do with all this sake?" yelled Reaver, pointing to the wooden boxes on the floor.
The delivery boy shrugged. "I don't know…donate it to the less fortunate?" he said, snidely.
Barry heard the suggestion and immediately dove to the floor. Reaver took out his gun and cocked it. "Get…out…" The delivery boy backed up and ran from the house. Reaver sighed and shot anyway. "Damn, only got him in the shoulder. I swear the aim on this thing is off." said Reaver, looking over his gun.
Barry stood up and looked at all the wooden boxes. "Miss Sarah is going to have a fit if she sees all this in the kitchen." He said, as he and Reaver looked over the boxes.
Reaver sat on one of the wooden boxes and sighed. "How Miss Sarah feels about what soils the kitchen floor is the least of my worries, Hatch. If that were the case, I would have gotten rid of the cat by now." Barry looked over the open box and took out a bottle. "Oh, go ahead. How else am I going to get rid of it all before the party? No one drinks this much." said Reaver, waving his hand at Barry. Reaver sighed and looked at the boxes. "I really don't want to keep this stuff in the house."
Watching Barry guzzle down the alcohol gave Reaver a horrible idea. Barry swished the alcohol in his mouth. "It's very…dry." He muttered, but continued to drink.
Reaver grabbed the bottle of Barry. "Don't drink all that at once…I have an idea that will get rid of all this stuff before the party…" Reaver tapped his cane against a box and smiled. "It will either be an entertaining way to kill a few hours, or it will kill someone. Both ways, no one is worse for wear and I get my money's worth. Hatch, have all the servants assembled in the dining room after dinner." said Reaver, getting up from his wooden seat.
"What for?" asked Barry.
Reaver smiled deviously. "I know exactly what I'm going to do with all this."
That Night, After Dinner…
"It's called 'sake' my dears." said Reaver, jovially. Dinner time came and went and each inhabitant of the house stood around the grand dining table. "It's exotic, it's expensive, and it's the name of the game tonight."
The servants looked at each other and then back to Reaver. Logan sighed and looked at Reaver. "I really, really don't think this is a good idea." He whispered, watching the servants murmur to each other. "Sake isn't like wine. It can get you really drunk, really fast."
Reaver smirked evilly. "Then this will be more fun than I anticipated." He retorted, sashaying his way to the front of the table. He motioned for everyone to sit down, which they did. Reaver straightened his vest and looked among his peons. "As with any drinking contest, we will apply the standard 'Last Man Standing' rules. Last one standing gets a raise; the first one down has to clean up the mess. Bathroom breaks will be appointed when needed, but no one leaves this room until we have a winner. Is that understood?"
Miss Sarah raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Sarah?" Reaver pointed to Miss Sarah.
"When you say 'a raise', do you mean in pay or something else?" Miss Sarah asked, as she put her arm down slowly. The others nodded along with her question.
Reaver just stared at her. "We'll work out the details after everything is said and done…" he answered. Each person got their own bottle and Reaver synched his pocket watch with the grandfather clock. With a devilish smile and the confidence of a drunken man (which he already had, despite being sober at this point) he raised his arm high.
"Ready…"
Each person at the table, despite misconceptions, had a confident look on their face. Reaver brought his arm down.
"CONSUME!"
Hour One: Eight Standing
Each servant poured their sake into their glass and gulped it down. Some cringed, some gasped, while some (Barry and Reaver) took to it well.
"I've never had anything like this." said Beryl, refilling her glass. "My grandparents own a vineyard, and they never produced anything like this." She took another swig and cringed.
"Sake isn't made from grapes, it's made from rice." said Logan, sipping his cordially.
"Fermented rice…" said Reaver, refilling his glass. "Let's play a game to pass the time, shall we?"
"Oh! I got one!" said Barry, reaching his hand up. "How about 'I Never'?" he said, excitedly.
"This is a drinking contest, not a slumber party." said Gordon, pouring his glass again. "How about 'Big Chicken'?"
"How do you play that?" asked Barry.
Willa smiled and nursed another sip from her glass. "Oh, we used to play it at the circus a lot. The person who knows all the phrases begins one phrase at a time. The game follows the same routine as the Twelve Days game. So, the sixth person in the circle would have to repeat the sixth phrase, as well as the previous five. If you mess up a phrase you drink the number of phrases you had to complete, and then start over at the first phrase. This continues until the game is completed, saying all ten without screwing up."
Miss Sarah softly poured herself another glass. "I know all the phrases, so I guess I'll start." She said, with a smile. "Big chicken; cute ducks; brown bears; hairy running hares; fat females sitting, sipping scotch, and smoking cigarettes; sheets slit by Sam the Sheet Slitter; sexy sailors sailing the seven seas; echoing egotists echoing egotistical ecstasies; naughty knocked up nuns navigating near the nunnery; fig pluckers plucking figs, I'm not a fig plucker or a fig pluckers son but I'll pluck figs until the fig plucking's done!" Miss Sarah smiled.
"Big chicken." said Miss Sarah.
"Cute ducks." said Willa.
"Brown bears." said Rosie.
"Hairy running hares." said Beryl.
"Fat females sitting, slipping…oh damn!" shouted Gordon, drinking four cups of sake. Everyone laughed, even Reaver, as he gulped down his drink. The game continued for about an hour until each phrase was said correctly. No one was drunk at this point, but they were starting to get wobbly.
Hour Two
Stacking the cups in a tower, Gordon applauded his own efforts, with Beryl clapping along. Reaver slammed his hands onto the table. "Sake bomb!" he yelled, as the tower of cups full. He laughed loudly, with Gordon mourning the loss of his cup tower.
"So, Miss Sarah…" said Barry, drinking straight from a bottle. "…do you drink much?" he asked. Miss Sarah, still nursing her cup, shook her head.
"Not usually. I'm more of a social drinker…" she said, softly.
"Oh, don't be so modest, Miss Sarah!" said Willa, putting her arm around Miss Sarah. "One time, she drank the ringleader under the table in order to distract him so we could sneak out for the night." She laughed, hugging Miss Sarah tightly.
"It was…one time…" Miss Sarah insisted, taking a big gulp from her cup.
Logan didn't seem very phased by the drinking, but as time passed, everyone could tell he was feeling the effects. "Sake is a very powerful…ugh…drink. I've seen people drink more than this and still fight the next day." He sighed, drinking more from his cup. He let out a small burp and poured himself some more. "Now, you want to talk drinkers, you ask that guy." He said, pointing to Reaver. "I've seen him drink an entire bottle of wine and still shoot five straight targets while covering his eyes."
Reaver, a bit wobbly himself, gave the group a pompous grin. "Now, now…in all fairness, I am incredibly great." He laughed, holding up his glass. He stood up and took a bow, spilling some of his sake. "Oopsie…" he chuckled, sitting back down.
Gordon sighed softly, downing his drink again. "You know, after a while…you don't notice the burning sensation in your chest." He laughed.
Everyone nodded in agreement. Miss Sarah just nursed her drink softly. After she finished, she poured herself some more. "Miss Sarah isn't much of a drinker, but if you put a few in her, she gets competitive." whispered Rosie to Barry, who hadn't taken his eyes off Miss Sarah all evening. "I lost a tooth to her once…solid gold." She added, opening her mouth to show her back teeth. Barry looked over at Rosie and noted that one tooth was missing from the back of her mouth. "It's in the back, so nobody ever noticed…"
"This is powerful stuff…" Miss Sarah giggled, sipping her drink. Everyone nodded in agreement.
Hour Three
"Talley-ho!" shouted Willa, who had started riding on Gordon's back. "Ride on, my champion steed!" she shouted, with an adventurous laugh.
"I want a turn!" shouted Beryl, obviously drunk.
"So…what's your deal?" Rosie asked Logan, as both were still semi-coherent.
"What do…hic…what do you mean?" Logan asked, covering his burps.
"I don't remember you being…so passive during your reign." said Rosie, folding her arms.
Logan smiled a semi-drunk smile. "My time working with my sister gave me a chance to do some meditating on my situation. I did some studying, rediscovered my love of music, and I suddenly started feeling like my old self again. Some compare me to that of a wondering guru." Rosie rolled her eyes. "I understand if you have a grudge against me, over half of Albion does. But I hope you, of all the people that have stopped to talk to me on my travels, will learn to forgive me".
Rosie picked up her drink. "I don't hold grudges…wait, that's probably not true…" she gulped down her drink.
Logan nursed another sip and placed his cup down slowly. "It wasn't easy, though. It took a lot of self-reflection and meditating; eating roots, becoming one with the land, that sort of thing." Logan placed his cup down. "It's good to be back in civilization, every now and then."
"The root eating probably explains how I had to stop you from eating the plate after you had finished dinner last night." said Barry, laughing, trying not to make it obvious that he was listening to their conversation.
"I had just come back from the mountains doing some investigating for my sister. The only food they had there was travel jerky and some kind of cheese that had an unpronounceable name. Miss Sarah could have fried up dirt and baked it into a casserole and I still would have eaten whatever she placed in front of me." Logan chuckled softly.
"Met anyone special on your meanderings around Albion?" asked Reaver, slyly.
Logan blushed. "Nope, can't say I have, sadly. Like I said, some aren't as forgiving as my sister. That includes women." Logan smiled a drunken smile at Rosie. She turned away from him, and gulped down her cup before refilling it. Logan patted Rosie on the head.
They both turned their heads when they heard a thud. "Get up, Gordon!" shouted Willa, tugging on Gordon's hair. "We have to ride up the mountain…the orphans need medicine!" she shouted, grabbing at his face. Gordon was out cold.
"Well, Gordon's out. Looks like he's cleaning up in the morning…" said Rosie, kicking a few of the empty bottles around on the floor.
"There goes my turn…" Reaver lamented, gulping down his glass.
Hour Four: Seven Remaining
Things started to get blurry. "I request a bathroom break…" shouted Willa, motioning to her empty glass.
"You just…urp…had one." laughed Reaver. "I guess it's to be…hic….expected with someone as small as you. You're so short, and I bet you have kidneys to match!" he laughed, slamming his fists on the table. Willa huffed and blushed drunkenly. "The night I gave her that 'prize' I thought I had lost her under the sheets!" he continued to laugh, with Willa trying to shush him.
Rosie placed a hand on her hip and struggled to stand up. "So something DID happen that night…" Rosie hiccupped, while Willa hid her face behind a bottle of sake.
"You…oh man…you said it wasn't what you expected!" shouted Beryl, teetering to one side.
"It wasn't…" laughed Reaver, gulping down more sake. "It was ten times better according to the adorable sounds she kept making!" Reaver laughed loudly and buried his face in his arm, still laughing.
Willa whined softly and buried her blushing face in her hands. Barry chuckled softly and took another swig from the bottle he had. He looked over at Miss Sarah, who was blushing softly. He leaned against his hand and smiled with a blush. "You know…" said a whisper from beside him that sounded like Reaver.
Barry looked up and saw Reaver smiling close to him. "That Miss Sarah is something special isn't she?" Reaver hiccupped. Barry nodded happily, resting his chin on his hand. "I hope Miss Sarah wins, personally. I wouldn't mind giving her a raise." Reaver laughed, going back to his drink. Trying to ignore that statement, Barry finished off his bottle and grabbed another one. He may have been drunk, but he knew how he felt about Miss Sarah. She may not have looked like much to some, but to Barry, she was perfect.
Hour Five: Five Remaining
Miss Sarah poked Willa with her foot. "Well, I should have known she'd be one of the first to fall." She sighed, sipping some more from her cup.
"Yeah, but how did Logan collapse?" asked Rosie.
"Willa fell on him when she was climbing that tower of chairs she made…right before the chair tower fell." said Reaver.
Rosie sighed. "Take one bathroom break and I miss all the good stuff." She lamented.
Beryl walked across the table, on her hands. Her legs her behind her head, and she looked like a pretzel wearing glasses. "I think it's odd that she went out when she did. Her dad could drink like a fish and still be sober enough to do his act." said Beryl, as Barry placed a bowl of sake on her head with a straw. He bent it so Beryl could drink. Reaver clapped and wobbled a bit.
Rosie stood up, with her glass in hand, and shouted. "To Reaver, who gave us these jobs and keeps the booze coming!" she laughed and chugged her drink.
"I've never seen Rosie so…energetic." mumbled Miss Sarah, finishing her newest cup. They heard Beryl yelp as she walked off the end of the table.
Hour Six: Four Remaining
"…and you know what else I hate about Mr. Finn?" shouted Rosie, as she drank some more. "He was never romantic. He would come by my tent, and just expect me to already be naked and waiting for him." Rosie hiccuped a few times. "He used to come up, pretend to be getting his fortune told and then we'd…hic…do naughty things on the table with the crystal ball." Rosie jumped down from the table, as she was standing on it.
Reaver circled his finger around the brim of the glass and nodded, pretending to listen. "He used to…hic…call me by the names of some of his exes. You know, if there hadn't been other Rosie's in his life…" Rosie held her head. "I told him once that my birthday was coming up, and you know what that dummy got me?" Rosie looked among the remaining contestants. "…a half-eaten box of chocolates. His excuse? He got hungry on the way to see me!" Rosie suddenly had tears in her eyes. "Oh, I miss that big idiot sometimes!" she drunkenly laid her head on the table and quickly passed out.
"And then there were three…" said Reaver confidently pouring another glass. The drinking was getting to a point where no one made any sense anymore. Barry opted to call it a draw before something stupid happened, but Reaver dismissed the idea. He laughed loudly as time became meaningless to the three remaining people
Hour Seven: Three Remaining
Reaver gulped down one more glass and started to wobble. "YUMMY!" he shouted, as he gasped. "I hate to disappoint the council, but no one can out drink me!" he laughed. Time kept going, and the stories they told to keep going started to mix together and eventually everything stopped making sense.
Reaver downed another glass. "…and that, my friends, is why I was elected the King of Chicken Town!" laughed Reaver, as the sake finally started to take its toll on him. Reaver made flapping motions with his arms. "Bawk-bawk bagawk!" Reaver then fainted, hitting his head on the table on his way to the floor.
Barry looked down nonchalantly at his passed out boss. "Is…hic…is his head bleeding?" asked Miss Sarah, sitting across from Barry.
Barry shook his head. "Nah, that hat absorbed most of the impact." He said, grabbing another bottle.
"Well, it seems it's just you and…hic…hic…me, Mr. Hatch." slurred Miss Sarah.
"Yep…I must…urp…warn you, I'm a man that can hold his alcohol. As a servant of Reaver…I drink a lot…" Barry slurred, opening the bottle.
Miss Sarah smirked and reached into the wooden box, pulling out a bottle. "You don't know…hic…the meaning of the word 'alcoholic' until you work in the circus. I think I was probably the only person sober enough to go on most nights, and I was an assistant! I saw the lion tamer drink himself into a coma once. Unfortunately it was during his act." she giggled. "His funeral was fun, though…"
Opening her bottle, Miss Sarah took a swig as she and Barry stared each other down. A few minutes of silence passed as each kept taking small swigs from their bottles. "Don't tell Miss Sarah…" Barry slurred. "…but the day I met her…hic…was probably one of the happiest days of my life…" he drank some more. "In any given setting, I'd never be able to tell her how I feel. She's too good for me." He took another swig.
"That Miss Sarah ain't all that great…" slurred Miss Sarah. "I...hic…have…hic…have flaws just like anyone else in Albion. For example, did you know I have a webbed pinky toe?" laughed Miss Sarah, drunkenly.
"That is so cool…" slurred Barry.
Miss Sarah stared at Barry for a moment. "Mr. Hatch, you have two different colored eyes!" she giggled, covering her burps with her hand.
Pounding his fist onto his chest to release a burp, Barry nodded and sighed as he opened his eyes wide. "Yeah…it's called…Uhh…heterochromia! Oh my, that's a big fancy word." Barry took another swig and placed his bottle down hard. "One blue, one brown…" Barry pointed to each eye, almost poking one with his index finger.
"I have that too…see?" Miss Sarah pointed to her left eye. "This one is browner than the other." She whispered, as if wanting to keep it a secret.
Barry squinted and nodded. "I see it…" he said, with drunken amazement.
"You want to know something else?" Miss Sarah asked, her face not moving away from his. "I think that Miss Sarah lady has a crush on that Mr. Hatch guy!" she laughed softly.
Sputtering a bit, Barry slapped his knee in amusement. "That guy? He's not good enough…hic…for her!" Barry laughed, taking another swig.
"She thinks the world of him, though…" Miss Sarah laughed and slumped back in her chair.
Barry sighed and drank the rest of his bottle. Miss Sarah finished off hers. They both reached for another one, only to discover the wooden box empty. "I say we…call…urp…mulligan on this one." said Barry, trying his hardest to stand up.
"No dice; doesn't that mean we…hic…hic…have to do it again?" slurred Miss Sarah, standing up as well.
"No, no, you're thinking of a rain check." Barry corrected. "No, no, wait, a rain check is…oh, nevermind. I think it's best to call it a draw." Barry teetered a bit and looked around, not quite sure where he was, exactly. He pondered his location for a moment and looked at Miss Sarah again, who looked equally lost. "Okay…umm…I think it's best if we just go to bed." Barry rubbed his head and looked around. His sense of direction, along with his equilibrium, was off. "I…I forgot where my room is, though." He said, looking around.
"I think I remember…I'll walk you to your room." said Miss Sarah, shaking as she walked.
"But then…hic…who will walk you to your room?" Barry pondered.
Miss Sarah stopped and thought about that. "True. How about I walk you to your room, and then you walk me to mine?" she giggled drunkenly.
"That is the best idea I've heard all night!" shouted Barry.
Arms around each other's shoulders, they guided each other toward the hallway. "No, you step with me, so it…makes more sense." slurred Miss Sarah.
"I'd like to do other things with you…" he chuckled.
Miss Sarah laughed loudly, almost falling on Barry as they tried to walk in step with each other. "You're such…hic…a pervert. I swear, sometimes you are worse than Mr. Reaver…" Miss Sarah directed them into a wall, but Barry stopped them. "I hate that guy. He's such a jerk. I think Mr. Hatch works for him…and Miss Sarah…"
The two swerved their way around the hallway, trying not to bump into anything. After knocking over some vases, stepping on the cat's tail and meandering into different rooms, the two finally collapsed on the floor of Reaver's office, but not before Barry vomited into a nearby potted plant.
Reaver woke up the next morning to Reavie licking his face. "Mmm…not now, darling. If you need help leaving just wake up Hatch, he'll show you out." Reaver mumbled, as he woke up.
Opening his eyes a bit more, Reaver waved the cat away and looked around. He slowly got up and balanced himself against the table. Smacking his lips a bit and noting the awful taste in his mouth, Reaver looked over at his servants, who were just waking up. "Anyone coherent enough to hear me, I'm giving everyone the day off until dinner time." Reaver announced, picking his hat off the floor and shaking a few empty bottles out of it. "No one bother me until then."
Reaver crookedly placed his hat on his head and looked around. He couldn't seem to find his cook or his attendant. "…and if anyone finds Miss Sarah, tell her to make me some coffee…" Reaver held his head and made his way to his office, the sounds of his own footsteps giving him a headache. He opted not to open the curtains. He walked to his desk and slumped down in the chair. He fidgeted around for his journal and his pen. Finding both, he rubbed his head again and began writing.
"Probably not one of my better ideas, but challenging my servants to a drinking contest proved to be more fun than I had hoped for. While most are still unconscious, I'm pretty sure none are dead. I didn't stay up long enough to see who won. To avoid arguments, I'm just going to call foul on this one. Sake is delicious, and what's left will definitely be the hit of the party I'm having in a few days. Though, I doubt I'll be having any…I think I'll just stick with wine."
Reaver heard moaning and looked into the corner of his office. Resting in each other's arms, Barry and Miss Sarah snored their drunkenness away. With a smile, Reaver went to the cabinet, and took out a photo box. "I know I said I wouldn't use you until the party, but this is just too good to pass up." He said, as he held the photo box up to his eye.
POOF!
With one press of a button, a blinding flash lit up the room. "These new photomajigs were a good investment." He said, as he turned to box on its side.
CLICK, CLICK, ZERRRK was the sound the photo box made as it distributed a small sepia toned color picture. "Instant pictures…" he laughed. Reaver decided to let the two sleep it off, as sleep was sounding really good to him right now. Putting the camera away, Reaver flicked the picture onto Barry, who groggily pulled Miss Sarah closer to him. "No charge." Reaver said snidely as he left the room.
Walking down the hallway, he could hear his servants waking up and shuffling off to their rooms. Making a mental note to have Gordon, who lost the contest, do all the cleaning later, Reaver felt his way to his along the walls of the hallway. As Reaver pondered whether or not this was even the right way to his room, he wondered if his house guest was feeling any better. Deciding he didn't really care at the moment, Reaver continued his shuffle to his room.
"…too bad, I was really looking forward to giving someone that raise…"
N'cha, you guys!
Public drunkenness at its best, am I right? The original ending had Barry and Miss Sarah waking up next to each other in Reaver's bed (You can guess the rest) but I decided against it. I think it's a little too early in the story for that kind of character development. I don't want to spoil anything, but hehehe, yeah.
The title of this chapter comes from a song called "Powerful Stuff" by Sean Hayes. I listened to that song while writing this. Ehehehehe!
Heterochromia is an actual condition in which your eyes are different colors. Not many people notice it, but Barry Hatch does have it. It can mostly be seen in artwork and if you look closely enough during cutscenes. It adds to his character, if you ask me.
Okie, the next chapter might be more of a quickie, as I don't really feel like overwhelming myself trying to get an entire story out of one little bitty idea. I will tell you guys this: it involves the photo box mentioned above.
Yes…cameras…another liberty I took with this story. I figure by the time of Fable III, they'd have almost instant pictures like a Polaroid camera. If you don't like it…well, sorry.
As always, I want to thank you all for your reviews, you guys are awesome!
Tatty-bye, for now! I appreciate criticism but prefer positive!
Reaver, Barry Hatch, and Logan belong to Lionhead.