RP:Happy Frakkin' Yule
Summary: Khitti and Brand have their annual Yule festivities. It's also Dominic's first!
The Tranquility, Cenril Wharf
Khitti || All the decorations on the Tranquility had been up for some time now--pretty much since Khitti had been back from Venturil. Between that and working overtime at the bakery, she’d been using both as a way to get her mind off of things. Mind-flayer things in particular. It was finally Yule though, and Khitti had the day off from everything. Except… she was in the galley starting dinner for Brand and whomever out of the crew that didn’t go home to a family or friends. She got things to a point where they just had to sit and cook for awhile, instructed the only other galley crewmember to keep an eye on things for her, and then went to tend to Dominic, who just happened to be bouncing around in his highchair, throwing around mashed apples and bananas. “You know, if you could -not- eat like your father does, I’d be ever so grateful,” she said with a smirk.
Brand || The Tranquility was running with little more than a skeleton crew today -- literally, no one else was around besides Brand, his family, and handful of undead crew with no living family to speak of. (Hey, it takes all types to run a ship of this size, okay?) Brand had brought his accounting books to the dinner table and was calculating his end-of-year ledger, but his brain wasn’t fully focused on the task. Especially not after smooshed banana landed smack dab on the page he was scrutinizing. “Hey, he’s not eatin’ like me until he at -least- graduates to solid food,” he said, wiping the mess off his books.
Khitti did her best to hide a bit of snickering, but to no avail. “I don’t know… Cheesecake’s not quite as solid as other foods and you do get into a bit of a shark frenzy when you eat it...” An innocent grin was given to Brand before the redhead swept their kid up out of his chair, wiped the fruit off his face… and neck… and hair… and everywhere else. “I think you need a quick bath and then we’ll open presents!” She gasped at Dominic, trying to get him hype for his first time opening gifts. The kid giggled gleefully as she shook him a little; it didn’t take much to get Dominic excited about something. Khitti would deal with the bath, quickly, and then called for Brand to get his butt to the room that was once the armory and now was filled with the biggest tree Khitti could fit in the room, along with a mound of presents. Paging, Captain Brand. Paging, Captain Brand. Please get your cute arse to the gift room.
Brand || Undead sailor Jimothy Holdem didn’t have a jaw. As one might imagine, this made him rather difficult to understand. “You want me to what?” “AAAAAAAAAAyjil Catin Ran. AAAAAyjil Catin Ran. Lees gej yoor coot ahss to je gif roon.” Ah well. At least he was good at the rest of his job. Brand trotted along behind and was lead to the armory, where Khitti and Dominic awaited. Ah. Okay. With that context, it all made sense. “My arse is -not- cute. It is… fierce. And menacing. Especially after a spicy burrito.”
Khitti || Next time, Khitti would do the summoning of the Brand on her own. Oi. After Brand’s protest about his butt, Khitti facepalmed. Then Dominic copied her and facepalmed. Then Khitti took a step closer to Brand, lifted Dominic’s arm a bit, and facepalmed Brand with his son’s own hand. “This is why I don’t take you out into public anymore.” Sigh. “Alright, sprout. Let’s see what the present fairy got you.” Khitti plopped the kid down on the floor, then sat down beside him, legs all crossed and whatnot. “Hmmm. Well. This one’s for your dad.” She tossed the somewhat light gift up to the blonde, the whole thing wrapped in that signature burgundy red she always put his presents in. And on it? Well, it had a tag on it that said ‘To keep the rain off your head’. It was a hat, of course. Because he loved hats. Weird ones. And also because the rainy season was coming soon. “And this one is definitely for you.” The kid struggled to open it, smacked it a few times, then peered up at his mother, pleadingly. “Alright, alright... “ She’d help him, and in it… was a stuffed chicken as big as Dominic’s head that was enchanted to sing that chicken song he loved so much.
Brand || “Thanks! I love it.” Brand immediately perched the hat atop his head. The stuffed chicken, on the other hand, earned a pained smile. “Man, now I’m never gonna get that song outta my head.” Dominic squealed and bashed the chicken’s head into Brand’s leg. “Alright, alright. Now it’s my turn.” Brand stepped away from the weaponized poultry and fetched Khitti and Dominic each a present. For Dominic, a sippy cup that looked like a flask. For Khitti, a stitched apron with her shop’s name and logo on it, and the words “kiss the cook.”
Khitti ripped the present open like a madwoman, hoping that Dominic would copy her and she wouldn’t have to help him this time. He did. Paper went everywhere. He gazed in wonder at the sippy cup while his mother squealed with joy and smooched that might-as-well-be-husband of hers. “What do you say to your daddy, Dominic?” The kid, of course, giggled and bashed the cup against the floor before shifting his attention back to the chicken. “And this one is for you, for later.” Khitti handed over an oddly discreet package, accompanied with innocent eye-batting. Inside, it was surely the strangest contraption ever: a bra and underwear set… made out of strawberry fruit leather. Just what the heck was Brand going to do with that?
Brand made eyebrows at Khitti. Because of course he did. “Now -that- is a fantastic gift... So long as you’re not meanin’ that I be the one to wear it.” Dominic bashed the chicken against Brand’s leg again, causing the man to wince. He set the lingerie to one side and scooped Dominic off the floor, narrowly blocking a chicken-punch to the face with his other hand. “Now listen here, kiddo. Your momma and I have some business to attend to. You think you can not break anything for an hour and sit tight with your Uncle Jimothy?” More eyebrows at Khitti. Brand is not subtle.
Khitti squinted somewhat at Brand’s wiggling eyebrows. “You keep doing that and I’m pretty sure you’ll fly away. And what? Of course I expect you to wear it.” She smirked, then eyed their kid. Dominic wasn’t having it. He was having fun bashing his chicken into any of the various appendages on Brand’s body that he could reach. This infuriated him so much so that he threw the chicken to the ground and yelled, “FRAK!” Khitti blinked, several times. “Did you just…”
Brand made a face like he’d swallowed a lemon whole. “It wasn’t me.” He held Dominic at arm’s length, as if to distance himself from the source of the cussing. In another life, he’d probably have been proud to have that be Dominic’s first word, but this Brand mostly didn’t want to get skewered by a momma-bear Khitti. Why couldn’t the kid’s first word have been something normal, like “whiskey”?
Khitti || Even if Khitti wanted to, she couldn’t entirely put the blame on Brand. Look how much she’d been drunk off her arse lately--and had quite the mouth on her at times--it had been as bad as Brand had been back in Frostmaw. The reactions to Dominic’s first word wasn’t entirely awful, so the kid just assumed he was good to go and said it again. And again. And again. He was entirely happy for himself that he said the thing. “Yes, yes. You fit in quite well here, don’t you, sprout,” Khitti said with sigh. It wasn’t an unhappy sigh though; there was definitely a smirk there. “Alright, yes. You go with your Uncle Jimothy. I’m sure he’ll let you bash him in the leg just as much as your dad would love to--except, you know, he won’t feel pain.” She motioned at Brand to hand off Dominic to the undead, “Come on, you. You’ve got to use that mouth for something other than turning our son into a swear-a-saurus rex.”