After his conversation with Utena Robin felt distinctly in need of a drink. Well, several drinks. As many as possible. And, perhaps, a nice soak in the sauna
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The first thing that Commodore James Norrington noticed about Ravenclaw House the first time he set eyes on the place was the alcohol. So the legends were true: they did have a bar.
The second thing was the (in his eyes) woefully underdressed wet man who did not seem the least bit ashamed by his state. So the whispers proved true: this school was basically a rainbow of sin with a pot of rum at the end.
Well. Damn. And this was the House that he was counted among the numbers of? But no, he had to really concentrate on the task before him, and not get too wrapped up in righteous disgust to note that this was exactly the sort of den one had to expect Sparrow to inhabit. That he was doing this for a good cause, and if all went well it would be worth it in the end. At any rate, he still needed to get alcohol for the - his lip curled in disgust - bribes he had offered. He may have been shaken with revulsion by the charade of a system that was used to gain entrance to this...this 'school', but he had made promises, and he would
( ... )
The bar had more than alcohol -- it had a perpetually percolating pot of coffee, meeting the requirements of one Special Agent Dale Cooper, who was presently refilling his mug. He looked up at the bewigged man with amiable curiosity. "What can I do you for?"
What a bizarre way to say something. "I am attempting to find," he began, choosing his words carefully, then looking down at his hands to consult a list, "...two bottles of rum, a bottle of grog, and a bottle of Scotch whiskey," he practically sighed, with resignment.
Robin grinned at both the men and held out his hand. "Robin Goodfellow, at your services, gentlemen. Did I hear someone say Scotch? There are a few good bottles under there," he paused, then laughed. "Unless of course, I've already finished them. Though those little House Elves seem to do a fine job refilling the bar." He took a drink of his rum and let his eyes wander over Cooper and Norrington with interest.
Robin was wearing simple grey slacks and a neatly pressed emerald green silk shirt. It was his conservative, successful mortal look. Cooper and Norrington, though dressed extremely different, both had the air of someone who worked for a bureaucracy. No matter, Robin had experience with both time periods their attire pointed to. It had been a while, though, since he'd seen a wig like that. His smile grew wider as he remembered one time, with this lovely bar maid, and two sailors with wigs very much like Norrington's...
Norrington glanced at the hand, then shook it - he didn't know what this man's status was, but it could be a very bad idea to offend him. Even if...he looked at the rum bottle with distaste. Even if he was probably just another drunk in this haven.
"Are there." Well, that was one bribe paid off. "And I expect that these House Elves have also provided several more bottles of rum? And perhaps grog as well?" Why, he could send out the bribes tomorrow.
Robin laughed, "Grog! Haven't had that in a quite few years. May be at that. The House Elves are quite good at procuring what you need." He looked Norrington up and down. "Don't believe I caught your name, sir."
"Oh, my apologies." Usually there wasn't much of a problem with people recognising him, and rattled as he still was from everything, he'd apparently forgotten his etiquette. "Commodore James Norrington at your service."
Robin nodded slightly, appraising the Commodore. "Would you like a drink, my good sir? If rum is not your preference, I'm sure there is something that might please you."
"No, thank you. I'm not overly fond of the stuff -- any of it. I'm actually looking for..." His upper lip twitched. "...the bribes to pay off my debts. A large number of people seem to desire alcohol here, and this seems the place to find it."
Seeing what she believed to possibly be a man of high standing, Emma approached the Commodore with a small nod. "I must express my dismay that our House is turning to some den which provides liquor to the entirety of the school. Is this not the House which is supposed to show the greatest appreciation for art? Literature? Charades?"
She smiled in false embarrassment. "Excuse me, I forget myself. I am Miss Emma Woodhouse, of Highbury. I have been avoiding the sortings as of late, which sadly means that I missed yours."
"That was the impression I had been under upon coming here," Norrington said, relieved to hear that one more shared his personal opinion of the state of moral decay of this school: this was further proof that, however broken this school's standards perhaps were, its students were not totally lost. "To my dismay, I was swiftly relieved of that concept.
"I am Commodore James Norrington. It is a pleasure to meet you. Insofar as I could tell, you didn't miss very much in any of the recent sortings."
"I used to attend every one, but since found there is little I could do. The students of any worth are sorted into Houses seemingly at random by lesser students, and the students of no worth are beckoned in with open arms by like-minded people. I don't wish to leave the impression that all our peers are immoral muckrakers... but I truly wonder what they expect the light of education to provide them." She smiled helplessly, adding a shrug of her shoulders.
"I speak too swiftly. It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Commodore." She wondered if he was single, and her mind was already filing through the several ladies who might be a perfect match for him.
"'Immoral muckrakers' seems to sum up a sizable percentage of the students here," Norrington remarked drily. "Many of those to whom I have spoken thus far see nothing wrong with the state of moral affairs here, shockingly enough. The fact that they harbour criminals is of no concern to a large number here."
"We have more villains than a prison. That's because students profit from their ill deeds. The bribing system seems to me to be only poor cover for a black market. Why they can't pay an honest tuition is beyond me. Oh, please excuse me, it's highly likely you were forced to bribe your way in, yourself. I am speaking, of course, of illegal activities. I will not shame this room to repeat some of the lurid offers I have heard."
Emma shook her head in dismay. "Let us remove ourselves from such a depressing topic. Where were you stationed, Commodore?"
"Students do seem to have an affinity for alcohol--and though they can find it right here, seem bent on requesting it. But yes, let us leave that topic." Rather embarassing, truthfully, since I am going to be sending some of this alcohol out as bribes.
"I was stationed in the Caribbean," he said, and just in case she perhaps knew it, he added, "At Port Royal."
"In the Americas?" She raised her eyebrows in a note of interest. "Was it trying? Still, quite the exotic locale. I have never been much for travel. It would cause my father so much stress."
Emma quickly added, "Aside from time-travel, but nothing like crossing the Atlantic."
The second thing was the (in his eyes) woefully underdressed wet man who did not seem the least bit ashamed by his state. So the whispers proved true: this school was basically a rainbow of sin with a pot of rum at the end.
Well. Damn. And this was the House that he was counted among the numbers of? But no, he had to really concentrate on the task before him, and not get too wrapped up in righteous disgust to note that this was exactly the sort of den one had to expect Sparrow to inhabit. That he was doing this for a good cause, and if all went well it would be worth it in the end. At any rate, he still needed to get alcohol for the - his lip curled in disgust - bribes he had offered. He may have been shaken with revulsion by the charade of a system that was used to gain entrance to this...this 'school', but he had made promises, and he would ( ... )
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Robin was wearing simple grey slacks and a neatly pressed emerald green silk shirt. It was his conservative, successful mortal look. Cooper and Norrington, though dressed extremely different, both had the air of someone who worked for a bureaucracy. No matter, Robin had experience with both time periods their attire pointed to. It had been a while, though, since he'd seen a wig like that. His smile grew wider as he remembered one time, with this lovely bar maid, and two sailors with wigs very much like Norrington's...
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"Are there." Well, that was one bribe paid off. "And I expect that these House Elves have also provided several more bottles of rum? And perhaps grog as well?" Why, he could send out the bribes tomorrow.
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She smiled in false embarrassment. "Excuse me, I forget myself. I am Miss Emma Woodhouse, of Highbury. I have been avoiding the sortings as of late, which sadly means that I missed yours."
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"I am Commodore James Norrington. It is a pleasure to meet you. Insofar as I could tell, you didn't miss very much in any of the recent sortings."
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"I speak too swiftly. It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Commodore." She wondered if he was single, and her mind was already filing through the several ladies who might be a perfect match for him.
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Emma shook her head in dismay. "Let us remove ourselves from such a depressing topic. Where were you stationed, Commodore?"
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"I was stationed in the Caribbean," he said, and just in case she perhaps knew it, he added, "At Port Royal."
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Emma quickly added, "Aside from time-travel, but nothing like crossing the Atlantic."
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