Social Snubbery

Babette needed a new pair of boots.

Well, perhaps needed wasn’t the right word, precisely. She certainly wouldn’t starve without them. And she wouldn’t get frostbite, either, her current boots being … well, serviceable enough. But that was all they were. They weren’t fashionable. They didn’t have cute little heels, like two of the pairs in front of her, or adorable little turned-up toes. They didn’t have gold accents or silver ones. They didn’t even have fur trim, for all they were fur-lined. And was the point of having fur in one’s boots if it didn’t show?

Other than keeping your feet warm, that is. But where was the fun in that?

And Babette thought she could use a little bit — just a little bit! — of fun. She’d been watching Baby Belle every other day for almost a fortnight now, and she’d keep doing it until Joshua and Cressida Tabard got married. (Dannie took them the other days.) She only got a break on Thursdays, when the Gwynedds’ nurse Jeannie came by for the afternoons to give her a break and a chance to get out of the house. Babette knew she ought to be using this time to get to the market and get some flour and some other things she’d been running low on …

But she had to have some fun. And she had an allowance. Why not splurge a bit — just a bit? Just for some new shoes — or a bolt of fine silk for a new dress that she could pester Dannie into making for her — or maybe one of these pretty plumb bob necklaces she had seen here last week …

She was still debating just what her purchase would be when she heard the door open and felt the wind ruffle her skirts. She glanced over her shoulder —

And hurriedly looked back again. Ugh! It was that horrible Carpenter woman!

Babette listened to the footsteps, hoping against hope that the Carpenter woman would see that the shop was full and her prescence wasn’t necessary. Of course no such thing happened. Instead, she heard the woman walking toward the cloak-pegs, then the rustle of cloth as she removed her cloak and hung it neatly. Babette wished she could assume the woman was a slob as well as being no better than she should be (or at least, must be, because how else would she have gotten the King’s nephew to marry her?), but unfortunately she had seen that same blue cloak hanging there perfectly neatly too many times to continue to entertain that illusion.

Now Babette could feel the woman hanging behind her, breathing in her airspace, watching and waiting for Babette to turn around and acknowledge her. Well! She would be waiting for a long time, if she was waiting for that. Babette wasn’t a fool. She knew what was expected of her, as both a Gwynedd and a Wesleyan. Would she be bringing some jumped-up trollop into the home that Lord Pellinore had been so kind to arrange for her and for his grandson (and for Aglovale, too, when he was done with his studies)? She thought not. She turned up her nose with a sniff and continued to examine the shoes, even though she barely saw them now.

After a moment, things seemed to be working. Babette heard what sounded suspiciously like a soft sigh before the other woman walked … somewhere else. Unfortunately it wasn’t up the stairs to the tea shop on the second story. Even more unfortunately, it wasn’t out the building entirely, since if BabetteΒ  looked out the corner of her eye, she could still see the other woman’s cloak.

No, she wasn’t going to do anything as courteous as leaving. Instead, the Carpenter woman was going to take up the shop-boy’s valuable attention, attention he could have been paying to Babette.

Not that Babette needed him at the moment. Or would need him, ever, except to tell her the price of something or take her money. He wasn’t nearly as helpful as Mistress–Baroness–Ferreira had been, back when she ran her shop herself, and once Babette got used to the best, it was hard for her to forsake it. Still. It was the principal of the thing.

The shop-boy sounded eager to talk to the Carpenter woman, too … well, no wonder there. Breeding — or the lack thereof — did tend to tell. Doubtless he found in that woman a kindred spirit. Babette held her breath and braced herself for a barrage of dropped h’s, “yes” and “yers,” and a long conversation about “walkin'” and “talkin'” and (“an'”) “livin'” generally.

Except … she didn’t. Oh, the boy’s speech was atrocious as ever. But the Carpenter woman’s wasn’t. Her voice was soft and low, almost soothing. The only fault Babette could find with it was a faint Reman accent, and perhaps a bit of hesitation before words with a “v” sound. Rob had told her that the Remans didn’t have that sound in their language, which Babette thought was odd. She had seen enough of Heloise’s and Rob’s Reman texts to know that they had the “v” letter, so why not the sound?

Babette sighed explosively, which had the double benefit of relieving her feelings and causing the shop-boy to look at her in some alarm. Good, he hadn’t forgotten about his most important customer. But none of that helped her main problem: shoes just weren’t going to be doing it for her today.

She wandered over to the display of the necklaces to look them over with a critical eye.

They weren’t made of real jewels — one would have to go to a real jeweler’s for that — but the necklaces were pretty all the same. The chains were serviceable, and the stones themselves semiprecious. Babette just hoped the prices would be reasonable, especially since she was having trouble deciding between a blue one that would match her gown perfectly and a white one that would go with every gown she owned.

She picked up the blue necklace in its box — then put it down and picked up the white one — then the blue one — then the white one —

Babette glanced at the shop-boy and the Carpenter woman. They were talking about — her? Her husband? It was always Carpenter, Carpenter, Carp–

No, wait. She was asking about a Carpenter. Not just herself or her husband, but a man who bore a name like that and had it mean something. Funny, that — Lady Carpenter needed a carpenter. Babette idly wondered what for before she remembered she had more important things to find out. “You! Boy!”

The boy spun around, wobbling a bit on his feet. His eyes were practically bugging out of his head. “Me, mi–m’lady?”

Good, he remembered. Babette had had to take more than a few shop-boys (and girls!) to task for not remembering her rank and addressing her accordingly. “How much is this?” she asked, waving the box.

“Er — what, m’lady?”

This!” She waved the box more insistently. The boy still looked confused. Babette sighed. Do I have to do everything around here? “The plumb bob necklaces,” Babette snarled.

“Oh! Five coppers each, mi–m’lady.”

Five coppers … Babette looked at the display and sighed. She got an allowance every month from Lord Pellinore of three silver coins — for personal expenses, that was. For decorating the house and buying more than just necessities. Lord Pellinore paid the rent on the house and all of her taxes himself, and he gave her five more silver coins to take care of necessities, like food for both of them and clothing for Morien. Still, to take ten coppers — a whole silver piece — from her fun money …

Oh, what the hell! She grabbed both the box for the blue and the box for the white. She hadn’t spent so much as a farthing of her fun money for this whole first week, hadn’t she? So she could buy these necklaces. Heck, she deserved these necklaces.

“I’ll take them both,” she said, stepping up to the cashbox. The boy nodded and started to total her purchase.

Meanwhile, the Carpenter woman was looking at the boxes in Babette’s hand, then the display, and her eyes grew very wide and she went a little pale.

So her husband kept her spending on a tight leash, did he? Well he should! A little minx like that tavern waitress would probably spend him out of house and home. She might not even mean to, but she would. What would a little tavern waitress know about the value of a copper coin? She’d probably assume her husband was so rich that she could go out and buy whatever she wanted, never mind what he had to say about that.

And if Babette’s smug little monologue sounded rather close to something Aglovale had said to her when he went over her accounts and saw how she always spent every silver coin his father gave to her, how she put nothing aside for a rainy day, at least no one else heard it and no one could call her on it.

Taking the necessary flashing silver coin from her purse, Babette paid and pocketed her jewelry. She was in a better mood already! She would go back home, then, as soon as Morien woke up, she would bundle him, herself, and Jeannie up and they would all go out into the snow. Morien would love to toddle through it and have himself a grand old time. Panna would bark and hop and run through it too, and they would all —

“Excuse me?”

Babette froze. Was the Carpenter woman actually speaking to her? Almost without knowing what she did, Babette turned around.

“I just wanted to say,” the woman continued, smiling shakily, “that’s a lovely gown you’re wearing, Lady Wesleyan. The blue suits you so well.”

She was — complimenting Babette? On this old dress, of all things? The one she worn while pregnant and had had to take in when she lost the weight, because somehow or other she never had enough to get a new, pretty gown that she didn’t strictlyΒ need?

Well.

Maybe this Carpenter woman could be … humored. For a little while.

“Well! I should hope so! I only got the gown from the premier dressmaker in the kingdom!” Or at least, Babette assumed Dannie was the premier dressmaker. She made all of Princess Gwendolyn’s dresses, didn’t she? And Princess Jessica’s dresses, too? Didn’t that have to count for something, even if Baroness Ferreira’s shop still made the gowns for the Queen and many of the older ladies?

And besides, this dress was in an exclusive style, wasn’t it? She’d yet to see it on any of the other ladies of the kingdom. Yes. That had to make it better!

But just as Babette’s pride puffed her up and up, her manners brought her down again. Damn. Now she’d actually have to interact with the woman. “But I’m afraid, even though you — somehow — seem to know my name, that we’ve not been introduced.”

“I’m Nicole — Nicole Carpenter.” The woman smiled sheepishly. “I live in the — the brown house over there.” She gestured to her right. Babette was a little impressed in spite of herself. She would have been certain that the woman would have been gauche enough to proudly claim the largest house on the square for her own. Which it was, but still, it would have been so crude to simplyΒ say so. “You’re in the …?”

“Why do you assume I live here at all?” Babette gasped.

“Er …” The woman began to blush. “The … the guards are usually pretty strict about who they let in … so I just — I guess I just assumed …”

Hmph. You know, I’ve heard that when you assume, you make an–” Babette clamped down on her tongue, hard. Good Lord! She’d not even spent five minutes talking to this woman, and already she was sinking down to her level! There was no use in bringing up Heloise’s “ass out of you and me” comment here! “Ahem,” she coughed, “that is — you shouldn’t assume things. But as it happens, I do live in the square. My house is the one with the green shutters, also to the …” Babette tried to sort out her inner compass and give the direction. The house was to her left, in the same direction (just a bit farther off) as the Carpenters’. Left, left … so that made it … “West,” she continued.

Since the Carpenter woman looked only confused, Babette felt compelled to add, “The second-biggest.” But only because she looked confused.

“Oh.” The Carpenter woman glanced over her right shoulder. “It is … it is in the same direction as my house, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is! What other west did you think I meant?” Babette huffed, hands on her hips and nose in the air, daring the Carpenter woman to try to correct her.

The woman’s mouth opened, shut, and opened again. Then it shut, hopefully permanently. After all, she didn’t want to attempt to argue her point with the daughter-in-law of an Earl, did she? Of course she didn’t.

And just to make sure that she didn’t, Babette thought it was time to call this conversation to a close. “Well! Unfortunately, not all of us can stand around chatting all day. I do need to get home to care for my son. My very first baby,” she added, “born just … well, let’s not get into that. He did come a bit early, though he’s as strong and healthy as anyone could wish for now.”

The woman looked confused, and Babette smirked. Oh, she was trying so hard to look unaffected, that Carpenter woman, but she couldn’t hide from Babette. Tongues had been wagging for months about how the Carpenter woman must have tricked Sir Milo into marrying her by claiming to be pregnant — and now, almost six months later, her belly was as flat as it had ever been! Oh, maybe Nicole now-Carpenter had gotten herself a ring, but every woman in the kingdom was onto her game. And so was Babette.

“Well, I understand, of course — but before you go, I just — I know it’s a bit late, but I do want to give you my condolences.”

Babette froze.

“What?” she hissed.

“My — my condolences.” Nicole frowned. “For — for your mother.” As Babette continued to stare at her, Nicole continued, “I — I know, when I lost my mother, it was … well, it was one of the darkest times in my life. But I got through it, and …” Nicole pushed one sheaf of hair behind her ear, then another. “I — I know that most of your friends probably … haven’t, yet. So if you … if you want to talk, or anything …”

“Who the hell told you all that?” Babette exploded.

“I — I’m sorry?”

“Who told you about my mother? About — about my friends? Have you been gossiping about me behind my back, you — you minx!” Babette shouted.

“I — I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude … I just, well, Dannie — Mistress Wesleyan –“

“My own sister-in-law has been talking about me behind my back?” Babette gasped.

“What? No, no! I mean — of course she mentioned your mother, but — that’s part of her life, too. It’s not — gossip. And — maybe I’m being a bit too forward, but — truly, you have my condolences. And all of my sympathy. I know what –“

“No. You. Don’t,” Babette hissed. “You cannot possibly have the least idea what it was like to — to lose your mother the way I lost mine.” To watch her grow weaker and weaker every day — to dread the moment of loss, while knowing at the same time that the only thing that could possibly ease her mother’s pain was that very loss. To think that you had six months to ask all those questions that a daughter ought to have a lifetime to ask her mother, and to find that you had two months less than that. And now … she was so very alone … Heloise was in Camford, Rob and Joshua both full of their own concerns and having their hands full with managing their father …

And this jumped-up bar wench had the audacity to say that she knew how Babette felt?

“Maybe it wasn’t exactly the same for me,” the woman murmured, “but I think –“

“Well, stop. It doesn’t suit you,” Babette snapped. “Listen, I — I humored you, understand? I decided to give you a chance. And now … well, it’s quite clear just how ill-bred you are. So I don’t think I will be pursuing this acquaintance.”

“I just wanted to –” the Carpenter woman began as Babette swept past her.

“Well, don’t,” Babette snapped. “Take it from me, dear — stick with your tavern friends. You’ll fit in so much better with them.”

With that, Babette marched to the door and slammed it shut behind her.

She hurried across the square — not because she was in a rush to get away from the Carpenter woman, because she wasn’t, but because it was cold. She had left her cloak at the house, silly her. Not that it mattered. It was hardly a far walk.

She hurried into her nice, warm house, wondering if she ought to slam that door behind her, too.

She decided against it, but only because Morien was still sleeping. Jeannie would hear it slam, too. The last thing Babette needed was for Jeannie to hear the noise, investigate, and then decide that she was going to try to soothe and cluck about and generally smother Babette. Or try to mother her, which, in Jeannie’s hands, amounted to the same thing, really.

Babette didn’t need — well, she didn’t need a new mother, as much as her heart ached for her mother most days and nights. She didn’t need friends like that Carpenter woman, either. She was the daughter-in-law of an earl; her brother-in-law would marry the King’s own niece at the beginning of the year to come. Her sister-in-law was practically betrothed to the younger Prince, and Babette had been visited by the Crown Princess in her very own home! What did she need friends like that Carpenter slut for?

Babette had a fine house full of fine furnishings. She had a husband who would become High Constable or Field Marshall or even Chief Justiciar like his father, whatever he wanted to be! She had her sweet little boy, and she — this was important — she had connections. She had everything she wanted, and then some.

She sighed as she wandered to the window and wished her stomach would stop playing havoc with her, twisting and turning. She didn’t need that Carpenter woman. She had so, so much more than that Carpenter woman. And there was nothing — absolutely nothing — that the Carpenter woman had over her.

Now if only Babette could feel that were true, instead of just knowing it … then, then she’d be better able to enjoy her day.

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20 thoughts on “Social Snubbery

  1. OMFG! That cunt! That fucking twat! I have no words.

    … Well that’s not entirely true, but I have no words that aren’t swear ones…

    Just that I hope that Babette gets taken down a peg or two by Dannie when she hopefully hears of this. What a miserable… creature.

    • Yes. Yes she is, all of the above.

      Dannie probably will have some harsh words to say when she hears about this, but we probably won’t get to see her say them to Babette on-camera. And she might not even say them to Babette, what with trying to preserve family harmony and all. But Rob will most definitely be getting an earful either way.

      Thanks, Andavri. πŸ™‚

  2. Yeesh, I think I’ve lost any respect I might have had for Babette. While she’s always been empty-headed and shallow, she was outright malicious here–not to mention, hypocritical to the point of absurdity.

    She doesn’t exactly seem happy. She thinks she is, but she isn’t, and that’s part of the problem. She’s (wrongly) accusing this total stranger of doing the same thing she herself did and not giving her any mercy, and while Babette does more or less believe the universe revolves around her, there’s got to be at least a part of her that scorns that sort of path because she took it and hit a dead end.

    Glad to see, however, that things are going much better for Nicole and Milo πŸ™‚

    • Babette was indeed malicious here, although not quite as hypocritical as you might think. She was mainly accusing Nicole of “tricking” Milo — i.e., getting pregnant solely to get a ring from him, or, worse, pretending she was pregnant and lying to Milo about it (which Babette thinks is more likely, given that it’s been almost six months and Nicole’s stomach is still flat as a pancake). When Babette got pregnant with Morien, it wasn’t with the intention of getting a ring from Aglovale — it wasn’t with any intention at all. It was completely an accident on both of their parts.

      But the old biddies are going to make accusations about Nicole and whisper behind her back, and Babette’s hearing it. So you could interpret Babette’s behavior as her trying to prove to herself, desperately, that at least she didn’t do that. She made a mistake with Aglovale, sure, but she never acted with outright malice or tried to trick him. Hell, having sex wasn’t even her idea!

      But if Babette lets herself think that maybe Nicole is the same as her … maybe they have a point in common … well, where does that put Babette and her relationship with Aglovale?

      Of course, this is all subconscious, much like her not being very happy (but telling herself she is). Still, Babette can have hope for her future. She can tell herself that things will “get better” once Aglovale is done with school. We’ll see if that actually happens … but she can tell herself that.

      After all, Nicole has her man right where she can find him most of the time. πŸ˜‰

      Thanks, Van. πŸ™‚

    • I wouldn’t like to know her much, either. I’m almost hoping that people like her don’t exist … but I’m pretty sure they do. Heck, I might have known a few of them in high school …

      Thanks, Saline!

      • *sigh* They do. When I announced that I was pregnant with Katie (a few weeks after my first wedding anniversary), I received a very nasty Facebook message saying that I was a slut, that my husband deserved better, and that no one could be sure that the kid was his. This message was from a girl I barely knew in high school who was pregnant with her first kid at our graduation, was married the next week, was divorced before the year was out, and was pregnant with her boyfriend’s kid less than two months after her son’s birth. And now, at age 24 or 25, she’s had three kids, two divorces, numerous break-ups, and has yet to not cheat on a partner. But yes, I’m the slut. Totally.

        So yeah, people like Babette really exist.

        • What? That’s insane 😯

          You know, with all the uninhabited islands out there, you’d think that someone with the required influence would have considered shipping off all the hypocritical, judgemental idiots to live the rest of their lives cut off from society, but nooo.

        • Van, don’t be naive. Who do you think the people with the required influence are? πŸ˜‰ The honest, non-judgmental smart people?

          Mara … I’m afraid by the time I’m done reacting to your post, you’re going to think I have multiple personalities, but here goes:

          1) The writer in me rejoices to know that my characterization was not that far off.
          2) The human in me loses a little more faith in the rest of humanity.
          3) The friend in me feels sorry that you had to go through that. Ouch!

          And really … with Facebook friends like that, who needs enemies?

          • Haha, fair enough. But you’d think that by some point, by means of their own judgement and hypocrisy, they’d all just get sick of each other’s BS and fight it out for the title of Alpha Ass. And then the rest of us would only have one of them to deal with instead of legions.

            • Nah, because they all know that THEY’RE the really sincere one and how can they possibly be so awesome when they’re surrounded by so many jerks and hypocrites? *laugh*

              Thanks, Morgaine. πŸ™‚ It’s been a couple of years since I got her comment (dear lord, that sentence just gave me a heart attack- HOW can I have an 18 month old already?!), and she’s dug herself a deeper hole since then, so it really doesn’t bother me. I just get to sit and watch her multiple failures with a general sense of schadenfreude. Maybe that makes me an awful person, but I’m ok with that. πŸ˜€

  3. Babette is such a…. I can’t even think of a word suitable for her. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her. SHE, of all people, feel superior to everyone, esp Nicole when SHE was the one who got pregnant out of wedlock. She’s probably just jelous because it was the only way Babette would have gotten everything she’s so proud of having – furnishings, a husband who couldn’t care less about her (maybe he could – but just to paint a picture here) but who would have some sort of connections or positions etc. She just has absolutely no right to judge and that’s what’s pissing me off so. I wish people would really know and acknowledge Nicole’s true heritage etc because she’s not of poor breeding. Can’t her mother or a sister or something make an escape out of the saltmines and find Nicole or some reman guy/gal (hint hint) support the “theory” of her being of good breeding etc without endangering her? She’s done everything the right way and never would discriminate people like Babette is, clearly, since she’s being nothing but nice to Babette – OF ALL PEOPLE!!! Ugh, she just makes me so mad… (Babette does)…

    • Well, if you really want a word suitable for Babette, I’m sure Andavri can help you think of a few. πŸ˜‰ Mind, they won’t be exactly fit for Noah’s hearing, so be sure to cover his little ears before you call her any of them.

      I think Babette may in fact be jealous of Nicole, and in a big (albeit subconscious) way. Another possible title for this post was going to be “The Truth about Bullies,” referencing that little piece of folk wisdom I’m sure everybody has heard: if a bully is making fun of you because of X, it’s because they don’t have X and wish they did; i.e., they’re just jealous. But I figured that would be even more tangential and harder to understand than my usual titles, so I decided against it.

      Rather than just looking at Nicole’s pedigree, I wish more people would get to know her and see that she’s well-bred in the other sense — that is to say, polite, congenial, and an all-around nice person. And there is hope for that. Nicole is bound to come into contact with Lynn sooner or later, what with Tommy and Milo being so close (and related) and all. Lynn would probably really like her, and might figure that if she already risked her reputation and her place in the kingdom for Babette of all people, she might as well do the same for Nicole and actually get a friend out of it. Plus, of course, there’s always the YMC.

      Unfortunately, Nicole’s mother died in the salt mines, so she won’t be making an escape. However … Nicole’s sisters were all married when her father was arrested, and so were never sent to the salt mines. They’re all still alive and well (as far as Nicole knows) back in Reme. So anything could happen, there. πŸ˜‰

      Thanks, Saquina (to differentiate you from one of the topics of this post)!

      • LOL! Yeah, let’s not have little Noah’s ears hear these little choice words… He’ll already be learning how to cuss and swear in German because his mama has a little temper and sometimes forgets to filter. Oops… πŸ˜‰

        Well, but you’ve got a good point. Nicole’s already made a few friends, or is at least in the process of making them, just by being her calm, well-mannered self. I think she won’t neccessarily have to share Babette’s fate in being excluded because noone likes her (maybe I do feel a little sorry for Babette there, but then again – she kinda brings that upon herself). And I think, that she’ll get past the rumors etc at some point. I just wish it would happen sooner rather than later. I wonder how Nicole’s and Lynn’s friendship would be (should they develop one at some point), considering that they’re both rather quiet. But maybe they’ll understand each other on some level. πŸ™‚

        Well, if one of Nicole’s sisters is to show up, can I get the first glance at her? I’d be really curious about that. LOL!

        • That will only get him in trouble if his preschool teacher speaks German fluently. πŸ˜‰ Otherwise s/he might just think he’s trying to say “Oh, fiddlesticks!” or “Schnikes!” or something and not quite pronouncing it right.

          … Of course, it might also be a problem if he’s in Germany, but you can worry about that when the time comes.

          Nicole and Lynn are both rather quiet, but I think in a lot of ways they’re on the same wavelength. They might both find restful company in each other, given the more outgoing and loud people they’re surrounded by (Tommy, Milo, Dannie, Cressida, even Jessie and Roma to an extent, and of course Babette). Besides, Sandra and Nicole are both on the quiet side and they get along just fine. πŸ™‚

          You most certainly can! Of course she’ll probably be a modified Nicole-Sim. But you can definitely have the first look! πŸ˜€

  4. Alpha Ass! Now isn’t that a fantastic title. May I nominate Sir Bors?

    I don’t do Facebook. Mostly I just don’t want to bother setting it up, checking it, etc. I also like to avoid being looked up and pestered by nasty people.

    I feel sorry for Babette. She is horrible….and friendless, and mourning, and lonely. She sees a friendship with Nicole as something that could wedge between her and her husband and her new in laws. She sees it as a potential to damage an already damaged reputation. She is also envious and jealous of Nicole. Better house and now Dannie talks to her and not Babette? That is why she was awful.

    I think of how Babette’s father sees her. The sweet little girl that would crawl into his lap and give him kisses. The most affectionate, but also the most attention seeking child. Given the right sort of attention she might be turned a little sweeter. Given the wrong attention? A monster, worse than what we have already seen I’m sure.

  5. If you’ve experienced a sudden decline in hits from Sweden it’s not because I’ve stopped reading, but I’ve had some major computer problems. 😦 Things are mostly fixed now, though!

    Anyway. I just realised something frightening. If I had to choose between spending a day with Mordred or spending a day with Babette? I’d pick Mordred, hands down. Because I much prefer a homicidal maniac to a vapid brat who thinks she’s better than everybody else just because she’s spread her legs for a nobleman. 😑 I mean, usually Babette is just painfully stupid, but here she’s mean and painfully stupid. (And to sweet Nicole, too!) Any sympathy I might have had for her, she lost right there and then.

    • Oh noes! But I’m glad your computer is mostly fixed. (I also saw your new storytelling blog. I’m not much of a Trekkie, so I haven’t commented, but I loved your “Even a Vulcan heart can break” post. So sad!!)

      Babette is indeed both mean and painfully stupid, which is always such a winning combination. I don’t know where the got the lack of brains from, honestly … or for that matter, the mean. But in any case, yeah, I don’t blame people for not liking her at all.

      And hell yeah, I’d rather spend a day with Mordred, too! Mordred is a suave and polished host, a good conversationalist, and he’s always interesting in an “Am I going to survive this?” kind of way. The worst you’d have to worry about with Mordred is if he’ll put you on the naughty list before the end of the day. With Babette, before the end of the day, you’d be wondering whether to stick a fork in your own eye or in hers.

      Thanks, Nix!

      • Thanks. πŸ™‚ Yeah, that was no fun, but for once I had recent backups of everything so I actually didn’t lose any data. But there might be a new graphics card in my immediate future; the one I have has always been twitchy, and after the restore it’s been on crack. (If I have to reinstall the driver one more time… :evil:) Ah, the joys of technology! πŸ™„

        And thanks for following my story blog! Don’t worry, I know Trek isn’t everybody’s cup of tea. πŸ™‚ But I’m really glad you liked the Vulcan story, it’s one of my favourites. πŸ˜€

        Anyway, back on topic. Re Babette’s lack of brains, could it be Lord Ban’s fault? I mean, Lancelot isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, either (but since he’s awesome I don’t mind ;)). And hey, I’m ambidextrous, so I wouldn’t have to choose – I could stick forks in my own eyes and in Babette’s at the same time! πŸ˜›

        • That’s a really good point about Lord Ban. He did come from the same line that produced Bors! There are probably some really dumb genes swimming in that pool, and it seems that Babette, like Bors and to a certain extent Lance, got the short end of the genetic stick.

          As for Trek … well, my first real experience with it was with the old sixties television show, which we all know was incredibly campy. Maybe someday I’ll try Next Generation or some of the other ones. Or even see the recent movies … I still haven’t gotten to that …

          Good luck with your computer! I hope you get a new graphics card and it is awesome. πŸ˜‰

          Thanks, Nix!

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