“I hate cricket.” Dietrich announces, shoving his hands into the pockets of his white trousers moodily. There’s nobody inside the clubhouse to hear him he suspects but he wanders inside anyway. Anything to get away from the pointless bickering going on outside. What they’re arguing about escapes him but it seemed to culminate in the Duke of Tigris screaming at Helga for being a woman and Helga storming off in a huff. She’d been wearing cricket whites as well so possibly she wanted to play.
They’d been dividing themselves into two teams with Isaak as the captain of one and William Wordsworth as captain of the other and that’s where the problems had started. Isaak had picked Süleyman on the pretext that someone that well built ought to be able to hit a ball pretty damn far: William had picked Guderian in retaliation and that was how the first argument had started.
Dietrich doesn’t much care which team he’s on because nobody’s even bothered to tell him the rules. He doesn’t know what cricket’s really about and everybody else seems to, even Esther who was demanding to be mid-wicket, whatever that means.
“Why do I even have to play?” He asks aloud as he rounds the corner into the kitchenette. “You don’t.” “Huh?” Dietrich blinks a few times at the sight before him.
Radu appears to be preparing drinks in the kitchen, carefully adding lemon slices to the rims of tall glasses of Pimm’s, pausing occasionally to readjust some of the little triangular sandwiches on a platter next to the drinks tray. But that isn’t what stops Dietrich in his tracks: what confuses him so completely that he wonders if he actually stepped through a doorway into Narnia, or possibly more appropriately Oz, is what Radu’s wearing. Gone are the grotty harem pants and far too open shirts, there’s not even a trace of the fashion disaster that is an Imperial uniform, no, today Radu is wearing a pair of ‘sensible shoes’, a pretty floral skirt, a blouse sporting one of those ‘pussy bow’ things and a cardigan. Dietrich’s gaze reaches the long hair held back by an Alice-band before he remembers to breathe again.
He’s about to say something, anything, when Süleyman leans round the doorway. “Darling, how are those drinks coming along?” “In a minute, you. Don’t be so impatient.” Radu simpers. And Süleyman vanishes again. “Wha-“ Radu eyes Dietrich critically. “Are you playing or not?” “Err… I… don’t want to?” Dietrich phases it like a question out of sheer confusion. “Better get those cricket whites off before they catch you then.” “I…” Radu inclines his head towards another room. “Go put something else on.”
A few minutes later the drinks and sandwiches arrive to quell the bickering players who’ve yet to actually begin a match. Dietrich carries the drinks tray carefully and watches in satisfaction as at least half the players take a lingering look at his legs. Then William starts flirting with him and Isaak starts hissing that he looks like a tart.
Of course by the time the match finishes Dietrich is seriously beginning to consider joining the Vatican verses staying with the Orden just so that he can gloat that Isaak’s prime batter seemed to deliberately get himself out every time he was put up to bat. In fact, now that he thinks about it, Süleyman’s vanishing after being caught out was probably for the same reason that Radu seemed to spend most of the match in the clubhouse. Still, entertainment aside Dietrich is pondering his future, right up until the moment when Isaak manages to knock William out with a cricket bat.
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branchandroot
Trinity Blood – the cricket club
Date: 2009-10-05 05:37 pm (UTC)They’d been dividing themselves into two teams with Isaak as the captain of one and William Wordsworth as captain of the other and that’s where the problems had started. Isaak had picked Süleyman on the pretext that someone that well built ought to be able to hit a ball pretty damn far: William had picked Guderian in retaliation and that was how the first argument had started.
Dietrich doesn’t much care which team he’s on because nobody’s even bothered to tell him the rules. He doesn’t know what cricket’s really about and everybody else seems to, even Esther who was demanding to be mid-wicket, whatever that means.
“Why do I even have to play?” He asks aloud as he rounds the corner into the kitchenette.
“You don’t.”
“Huh?” Dietrich blinks a few times at the sight before him.
Radu appears to be preparing drinks in the kitchen, carefully adding lemon slices to the rims of tall glasses of Pimm’s, pausing occasionally to readjust some of the little triangular sandwiches on a platter next to the drinks tray. But that isn’t what stops Dietrich in his tracks: what confuses him so completely that he wonders if he actually stepped through a doorway into Narnia, or possibly more appropriately Oz, is what Radu’s wearing. Gone are the grotty harem pants and far too open shirts, there’s not even a trace of the fashion disaster that is an Imperial uniform, no, today Radu is wearing a pair of ‘sensible shoes’, a pretty floral skirt, a blouse sporting one of those ‘pussy bow’ things and a cardigan. Dietrich’s gaze reaches the long hair held back by an Alice-band before he remembers to breathe again.
He’s about to say something, anything, when Süleyman leans round the doorway. “Darling, how are those drinks coming along?”
“In a minute, you. Don’t be so impatient.” Radu simpers.
And Süleyman vanishes again.
“Wha-“
Radu eyes Dietrich critically. “Are you playing or not?”
“Err… I… don’t want to?” Dietrich phases it like a question out of sheer confusion.
“Better get those cricket whites off before they catch you then.”
“I…”
Radu inclines his head towards another room. “Go put something else on.”
A few minutes later the drinks and sandwiches arrive to quell the bickering players who’ve yet to actually begin a match. Dietrich carries the drinks tray carefully and watches in satisfaction as at least half the players take a lingering look at his legs. Then William starts flirting with him and Isaak starts hissing that he looks like a tart.
Of course by the time the match finishes Dietrich is seriously beginning to consider joining the Vatican verses staying with the Orden just so that he can gloat that Isaak’s prime batter seemed to deliberately get himself out every time he was put up to bat. In fact, now that he thinks about it, Süleyman’s vanishing after being caught out was probably for the same reason that Radu seemed to spend most of the match in the clubhouse. Still, entertainment aside Dietrich is pondering his future, right up until the moment when Isaak manages to knock William out with a cricket bat.