Notes: I dunno I wrote this at one point but didn’t finish it so I just tried to finish it real quick, sorry if that makes it feel a bit rushed.

It’s pretty wordy/unedited. 8I But focused around Calliope and Caliborn.

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“Today, you will be engaging in a lesson of basic dinner etiquette, otherwise known as table manners. Our live-in assistant — the Handmaid — will be aiding me today in these affairs, and she has prepared you a delectable meal to use in our example.”

The peculiar, cue-ball headed man waves a gesturing hand towards the table the two young Cherub twins sitting impatiently side-by-side as the Maid places two dishes in front of them and removes their covers to reveal the inviting meal. Calliope and Caliborn lick their lips eagerly, and though they can’t eat yet, the male does not hesitate to play with his food while Scratch paces in front of them.

“I know the two of you enjoy being very difficult when these matters of manners and good behavior come up, but know that we will be changing that very soon,” the man takes a glance at a clock, he already knows what time it is, but somehow it’s almost reassuring. “Hmm, yes we should be able to begin any time now, if the two of you are ready as well…” his gaze falls on the twins, but especially the brother of the two, who seems to have a mouthful of food, chomping away instead of paying any sort of attention, “Young Master Caliborn! I did not instruct you to eat, you will remove that sustenance from your mouth in a calm fashion and await proper instructions.”

Which is the exact opposite of what he does.

The boy responds by spitting out a collective wad of peas right into his sister’s face, who lets out a squeal of surprise and disgust. The Handmaid fiddles awkwardly with her hair and uniform as she watches young Calliope wipe the offending mess from her face, brother cackling away in the adjacent seat. The scene becomes chaotic almost instantly, the young girl flipping her plate over into Caliborn’s lap, causing the potatoes, peas, and hamsteak to spill over his shirt, legs, and of course the floor as well. He hisses viciously and leaps onto the table without any further regard to manners, tearing his filthy shirt from his torso and whipping it violently in Calliope’s face. Meanwhile the Handmaid is desperately taking her broom to the disaster on the floor around the squealing, squabbling siblings until everything comes to a just a sudden halt when the Host slams his cane on the table with a mighty WHAM!

Everyone freezes, all heads turned and focused on the good Doctor. He’s displeased, and everyone can tell, even with his faceless face. Caliborn, seeing how in trouble he’s about to be, quietly and guiltily slinks back down into his seat, his sister all the while pats down her suit, then sets her dinner plate aright again with an innocent glance from her big green eyes. Too bad there won’t be any getting out of this. The twins know very well what they’ve done wrong.

“Young Master Caliborn! Young Master Calliope!” Are you quite finished yet?” Scratch’s tone is frightening as it echoes off the walls of the manor’s vast dining room. The children nod in unison, guilt settling in with their hung heads. “Young Master Caliborn if you do not behave I will not hesitate to take away your puzzle cubes and dessert privileges for the next couple weeks, do I make myself clear?”

The little cherub is so very close to scoffing, even going as far as opening his mouth to speak… but he doesn’t. Instead he gives a grumble and a resigned honk, arms crossing over his bare chest.
Calliope expects a talking to as well, but somehow she’s gotten lucky enough to skim by as Scratch continues, impatiently tapping his cane against his palm. “Now then, as I was saying, we shall be going through a lesson in table manners, which both of you are very clearly lacking in great volume of. Handmaid sweetie, would you tidy up the area and bring the young ones new clothes, as well as fresh meals?” He gives a couple quick snaps of his fingers and the troll is off.

And, just as commanded, the area is cleaned and a fresh set of dinners are laid before the eager, now-starving cherubs. They can hear their own beastly stomachs growling, but they can’t eat yet. Unfortunately. They certainly wouldn’t want to get in any real trouble with Doc Scratch. Caliborn is handed a newly pressed shirt, which he begrudgingly puts on under his little suspenders.

Seeing her job is done, and how everyone is readying to eat, the aid attempts to sneak it on out of there. Not solely because she’s desperate to get out of the presence of a one Doc Scratch, but because she has not eaten in the past couple days and would presumably like to attempt sneaking a meal from the very food she cooked together.

“Handmaid. Did you believe your work here is done? Come now, I’m still in need of your presence. Come here. Right here to be exact.” He’s pointing to the spot directly next to himself. Of course.

Of course she would have no luck. Not today. She visibly flinches, but turns to him and places herself beside her master. Though she tries her best not to sulk in front of him, it’s a difficult affair when she knows very well that those leftovers will vanish the moment the other fifteen associates of this manor get their grubby paws on the kitchen’s inventory. Looks like she’ll be forced to skip another meal. Sigh.

The children finally appear to be at full attention when Scratch continues, and everything begins to fall into place. “I hope you understand why this lesson must be learned. The Queen soon plans to bring her adoptive children over for a dinner meet. The Master doesn’t wish to make a bad impression, and you would do very well to listen to your father.” He pauses, giving them a look, and the two children nod in unison.

“Now then, if we may begin, please place your folded napkins over your laps. This is important to do first thing after everyone is seated, and right before the meal begins. Do remember that being clean is one of the most important guidelines of proper etiquette.
…Right next to keeping your elbows off the table.”
Another look towards Caliborn, he’s settled his head in his hands and propped himself up on his elbows. If he could look any more bored right now he might literally melt into a puddle of uninterest. The minute he realizes the Host is talking to him he scrambles to get his elbows off the table and his napkin in his lap.
“Thank you for properly paying attention, Young Master Caliborn,” he says it very sarcastically, “Please do try not to slouch as well. Now then…”

Caliborn begins zoning out pretty hard when they start droning on about proper use of silverware. Why the fuck even did they have to know which spoon to use for soup? It was boring and pointless, and really! He was tired of his sister’s snooty know-it-all personality, blankly watching her answer all of Doc Scratch’s questions with ease, naming off which fork was used for salad and how to properly eat it. It was pretty clear he wasn’t taking in any of this info, and by the time they were finally allowed to eat after a few more annoying lectures, Caliborn did the most sensible thing possible…

He shoved his silverware to the floor and dove his head straight into his meal, his face would be his utensils. And they worked just fucking fine! His teeth shred through the hamsteak as clean as a steak knife, and even though the sauce dribbles down his shirt and stains the fabric, he couldn’t give two shits as he swallows down his meal practically whole.
All the while his sister calmly eats her meal, executing something as basic as food consumption with such grace it makes her brother look like a starving, impoverished pig. Calliope takes her meal slowly, savouring every bite as if it were her last meal. She does give a small glance to her brother with a sly little smile, one that he glares intensely at. He knows she thinks she’s showing him up and it pisses him off so much. Fuck the rules, fuck her, fuck this “etiquette” shit!

Really, the cueball isn’t surprised at the son’s behaviour, and only gives a quiet sigh. He very well knew things would play out this way, and briefly considers locking the child in his room during the scheduled dinner meet. At least then he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed over this rebellious attitude of Caliborn’s. But alas, the master would never allow for such a thing. They would just have to find some other way to coax him into behaving well.

Until then…

“I think it is time you went to your room and put yourself to bed, hm? Clearly you won’t be needing dessert because you have so wonderfully learned how to eat properly at the table. Enjoy your evening, young Master Caliborn.” Scratch gives another snap of his fingers and the Handmaid is instantly by the child’s side, urging him out of his seat.

“Hey..! Not fucking fair, I want my stardust, I want my icecream, you can’t do this to me I’m entitled to this shit!” Caliborn hisses and swats at the troll woman angrily, throwing his food on the floor… again. Besides her quietly seething anger over the floor she’ll have to clean for the sixth time today, she seems unphased by the cherub’s retaliation and grabs ahold of the back of his shirt, hauling him off like a little kitten. ..A very violent, kicking and screaming kitten who’s throwing a tantrum the whole way to his room.

“It seems I will have to work on that language of his as well… unlike you, young Master Calliope. You have been a delight this evening, and I thank you,” The host sighs with a bit of relief for once, speaking to the female with a sweet tone of voice, “Would you enjoy a bit of dessert now?”

Her face twitches into a proud little grin before she bows her head, “That would be delightful, Mister Scratch, thank you.”