[IC] Tea-time with the character above you ☕

 in his years of being exposed to interdimensional creatures, massive organizations dedicated to keeping balance between timelines, and talking, all-powerful cats, orion had seen it all. however, there was something comforting about visiting a perfectly ordinary cafe again. the guard poked his head in , hoping he didn't stick out like too much of a sore thumb -- aaand he did. 

  for a moment, he felt like a total idiot. he hadn't thought to put on something a little more casual -- and staring up at the menu reminded him of the starbucks near his old house. after about maybe five minutes of careful consideration, he finally opted for -- 

" tall black coffee , please. "

his voice barely came out as a mutter -- for a moment, orion considered banging his head against the nearest wall. needless to say, the barista whipped up his ever-so-fancy order for him.

orion consulted his watch -- he had about an hour before the odyssey left port. and, while making sure alice wouldn't get into too much trouble was the responsible thing to do, something caught his eye. he was what looked to be an employee at this shop, apparently on break. orion didn't want to interrupt anyone; still, there was something about him that made orion feel welcome. he sat down across from the other , dipping his finger into his coffee as he contemplated what to say.

" uh -- " he cleared his throat. " hi. sorry. hope you don't mind me sitting here. "

a pause. 

" uhhh , you seem ... pretty cool. do you have any menu recommendations , by any chance ? "

"Well, did you know, sir, that dark tea contains more caffeine than green tea?" Xander asked. He smiled.
"Please," he said. The opera singer gently shoved a cup of steaming hot (black) tea into Orion's direction.
"You look like you could use some caffeine."

Then he laughed. "I didn't mean that in a rude way, sir. Not at all."
Xander leaned backwards in his chair as his eyes scanned Drakenburg's port. It was a busy day like any other. The piers were filled with ships and merchants. The salty air of the ocean drifted on the cool morning breeze. Xander loved it.
"I don't want to be rude," he told Orion,"but I've never heard of the place that you came from. Dall-is? Oh, did I mispronounce that?" Xander's cheeks flashed with a soft red. He quickly took a sip of his own tea.
A green tea mix, with ginger and goudlok. 

"I am interested the type of tea they serve in your.. World," he said. Xander set down his cup. Leaned forward. "Oh, well you see sir, tea is an important aspect of Drakenburg," he paused, "Krettwick. Void! For this entire Northen pact's daily life you see," he explained.
"I can only imagine what cultural impact tea has on your American-country," he mused out loud.
"I am sure you Americans have taste."
--

Hala carried the kettle to the parlor table, though with surprising difficulty. She had carried the same kettle for years and years before, but perhaps her lack of exercise and noodly arms were at last getting the better of her. Unwitting, she dropped the pot on the low table. A hard thud resonated through the room, and the teacups and plates clattered miserably. Thankfully, no tea sloshed out of its container. Hala wasn't looking to get murdered over tea spilling onto Xander's coat.

"I'm sorry." she muttered to him, "It's a bit heavy, cast iron and all. I thought I'd be able to..." She trailed off as she lifted the kettle again, and carefully poured the tea first into Xander's cup. Pine needle tea. Of all things. "It's good for your throat." she said, "I figure since you're a singer, a few cups of this might help you. Not that you need the help or anything."

Heavens forbid she be a dickhead on accident.

As if she wasn't already one.

Hala walked to the other side of the table, poured her own cup of tea, and placed the kettle aside. "I would like to thank you, though," she said, sitting down in her chair, "For your help with the hymns. My work partner certainly appreciates it, as much as he... doesn't want to really talk to me, ever." Wonder why. "He wanted me to extend his gratitude to you, however. Arellano isn't one to thank easily. Even when I studied under him in college, he never... Well, I suppose you should simply take it and cherish it." And perhaps pray the two men never meet.

"Have you been to college, Xander?" Hala asked, "Nothing wrong if you didn't, obviously. My husband didn't." Don't need to reassure him. "But, I studied for about four years in Murkwell. I almost miss that city."

Salvador dropped his teabag in his lukewarm water. The small thief slightly lifted his shoulders, made himself even smaller, before looking Timothy in the eye.
“I wouldn’t know what I would do. Without my sister, I mean,” he said. He dropped his words as he had dropped his teabag. Clumsy.
Salvador sniffed. He cleaned his nose before shifting his gaze back towards his cup. The mugs the two of them had been match-matched and both definitely stolen. It didn’t bother Salvador, though. He had stolen them himself and dragged them here. In his small, cramped room in the Old Chapel.
“I have a younger sister. Not a twin,” he told Timothy. Salvador soaked the tea in his water. He “She lives far away,” he said. Before his words trailed off. Salvador finally realized he was a terrible host.
“Sorry,” he finally concluded towards Timothy. He smiled. Though it was a watery one. “I wanted to ask you about the travelling you did,” Salvador cleaned the tea from his fingertips and on to his shirt.

 “The world travelling,” he clarified. “World hopping,” he said. Almost as if he wanted to taste the words on his mouth.
“How did you do it?” Salvador’s eyebrows slightly raised. “Did you had any choice? A destination. Like a train,” he mused. The thief set down his mug. He wiggled, Salvador had folded his feet beneath himself, then leaned forward. Ready to snatch Timothy’s words right out of his mouth if the other decided to speak.
“What is your destination?”

--

I just want you to know that I love their tutor/mentor relationship so much

     "Check it out." With a big smile, Jackson removed a thin, white cloth on top of the table, revealing a tea set. "Cool, right? It was in this fancy house I went through last night. I decided to nab it too. See this?" He pointed at the painted decorations at the rim of the cups. "That's real gold! They made it a paint! Isn't that crazy? It's gotta be worth a lot. But before I let go of it, I thought you and I could use it to serve us a nice lunch."
     Jackson poured them both a glass before sitting down and pushing a plate of hastily made ham sandwiches to the center of the table. "I remembered you mentioning something about coffee, and I was going to get some but get this-- that house didn't have any coffee! Had the biggest tea collection I'd ever seen, though, but I guess that makes sense for this set." He took a sip from his cup, immediately wincing. "I'm no good with tea. It just tastes like hot water to me. I'd rather have straight up water. What about you? You any good with the flavors? Maybe you can give me pointers."
     Despite his disgusted expression, his smile was back very quickly. "What about you?" he asked with a nod. "Haul anything good lately? Have any on you I can see? What's your next plan?" It was like a game of show-and-tell, but with thieves and a fancy tea set.

“Real gold, eh?” Thai asked, eyeing Jackson’s teacup intently. The assassin sips his tea as casually as he can while secretly brainstorming ways he can steal the valuable piece of china. Their own teacup was purple and slightly translucent with no handle. Despite first appearances, the assassin had quite a love of tea (his preferred alias is a lean to it, after all!) and had even owned a shop selling it, as well as china, before it blew up. “How expensive is it, exactly? Where’d you get it?” Thai continues to press, planning to create a distraction once he’d gathered enough information. Just a quick throw of a knife in the right angle…knock something big down…would swipe the teacup in the chaos and make like a tree and move….

    Tarus smiled and set up a a couple tea cups. He turns to Thai. “I found some mint tea in the cupboard. Unfortunately we’re all out of green tea.” He nearly tripped on one of his children who ran past. “I’m so sorry about my rowdy children! They got into some old candy.” Tarus handed Thai a cup of mint tea.”

Thames placed down the tea set on the table after taking the precaution that the room was dimly lit with minimal sunlight for his guest. He looked up and smiled at Tarus, ”Is there any kind of tea you prefer? I have all kinds, there’s ought to be something you’re fond of!”  
After some small talk, Thames went to pour tea for the both of them. While he had servents, he always made an effort to serve guests in his home himself. There was a pause with unfortunate silence that took residence within the lavish room. He took a look of Tarus and a twinge of curiosity overtook him. It wasn’t often that the inhabitants of Nolidae found themselves in the company of monsters. And so it was natural that Thames had questions. Being interested in naturalism had its merits.          
Tarus’ outfit brought some air of familiarity, his hat and jacket being something similar to the fashion of Sybalus, the neighboring country. Perhaps a bit old fashioned but there was nothing wrong with that. 

“I recall you remarked how you touch the piano, no? I have experience with the organ myself. Mind entertaining the topic?” 

Ever since Mrs. Linz decided it was time for Hailey to marry, she had thrown parties and tea time all week long. Hailey could have sworn her mother was doing this for herself rather than for her. It always started the same. Hailey pushed herself into a form-fitting- yet overly pretty- dress, and then rushed to make the tea while Mrs. Linz talked to the possible suitor. This time however seemed slightly off. She grabbed the tea and headed into the room, only to see her mother ever so angry. She set down the tea just as she learned why Thames was actually there. Her bug collection. She had some of the best bugs in the area. At least she thought so. 

"Why yes, you can see my bugs!" She exclaimed knocking the tea to the ground. "Oh my, I am so dearly sorry"

Dandelion felt his shoulders ease. His thumb traced the edges of his mug.
“It's been a while since I saw my familiar so relaxed,” he said with a snicker in his tone. Dandelion’s familiar, a small nameless coot, slept beside the druid. She was rolled up to a small ball.

“What was your name again?” he awkwardly asked. “Hailey, right?” Dandelion then nodded. “I will try to remember that,” he said with an apologetic smile. The rabbitfolk finally pressed his cup against his lips and took a quick sip. The tea, partly made with pine, partly made with oranges, made his throat tingle. It was a particular taste, one you had to learn to tolerate. Let alone love. He could only hope his guest shared his affection for pine-needle.
“You are good with animals.. Did you know?” He paused. Dandelion set down his cup ad rubbed his nose awkwardly. “Ah, you probably knew that already,” he said.
--
Furry detected 

As a British furry, there were never two things that Quince loved more than anthropomorphic animals and tea. Granted, she was under the assumption that Dandelion was a shapeshifted human and not a rabbitfolk, so she wasn’t quite as awestruck as she would be, but… At least the spirit was there?

Either way, she barely managed to suppress a squeal as she scrambled up to what was, in her mind, a possible new best friend. “Hi!’ she squeaked to the rabbitfolk, “Um, do you wanna… Do you like Earl Grey tea? I was making tea for my comrades-in-arms, but… I’m sure they wouldn’t notice if I were gone a little longer, or a couple of cups missing!”

Not that Dandelion had much time to reply, as she had already begun scurrying away to pour out two cups of tea. She scrambled over to the rabbitfolk with the two cups, handing one of them over to Dandelion. She took a small sip out of the other. Thankfully, her tea set was acid resistant, so it didn’t dissolve the second she put her lips to it.

“Um… So!” Quince began to chirp, actually bothering to strike up a conversation. Unfortunately, the topic was strange to anybody who wasn’t part of her universe:

“Did you design that form yourself, or did a birth power give you it? Either way, you look pretty nice! I like it!"

If anything, Illanya had been shocked that the man had accepted her offer for tea. After all, even wearing her disguise, she still was an intimidating figure. Of course things hadn’t panned out exactly as she’d hoped either. She’d had considerable difficulty trying to select any sort of small finger foods as she hadn’t really needed to shop for food in ages… nor could she really smell them either.

Regardless, she met Gidon near the outskirts of the town she’d been frequenting, an old basket hooked over the crook of her arm. Tilting her masked head, she greets him nervously before gesturing into the surrounding wood.

“Erm, this way please. It’s just a short walk and we’ll be there.” Is all she says before leading Gidon into the wood, occasionally pushing aside branches and waiting patiently if she happened to get too far ahead, though this didn’t happen often.

There wasn’t very far, just as the undead had said, though it wasn’t much to look at. It’s a small clearing that seems to only bears a large piece of a long forgotten tapestry as the door. Near a simpering fire, an old metal teapot sits dented and old, paired with an equally old, but carefully organized set of cups, plates, and utensils. In between two trees is lines of twine stretching between them, a wide variety of plants hanging amongst them, presumably out to dry. A discarded set of knitting needles and a mess of yarn sit in on of the corners of the clearings, where only stumps and logs serve as any form of chairs.

 If Gidon notices the mess of yarn, Illanya laughs nervously and shrugs. “I get a little bored out here, so the time is better spent learning new things, no?” Her voice sounds muffled through the mask, but she makes no move to remove it, instead she nods to some stumps and a crudely cut and dragged log, that seems to serve as a table. 

“Please sit. I don’t exactly have the nicest home for visitors, but it does well for my needs.” Which weren’t much for an undead. Despite the rather lackluster location and perhaps her own embarrassment for not being able to provide a more fitting location for a general ,of all things, Illanya feels… excited? Happy? She can’t be sure which. She quickly sets to work, putting the teapot over the fire, and walking over to the two trees, where her herbs hang.

She’d been excited to hear of Gidon’s own interest in Botany, almost eager to finish making the tea and get the conversation started. Patience. Rushing the tea wouldn’t make it taste as good. Illanya knew better, or at least she had when she was alive. The details were fuzzy to her. 

“You mentioned Ginger as a favorite? Or something like that.” The twine bounces as she runs a gloved hand through the hung plants, muttering to herself. After a moment she returns with Ginger and lemon clutched in her gloved hand. With great care, and what seems to be muscle memory, though she occasionally will pause with a blank expression as if trying to remember what she’s doing. It probably takes a little longer than normal but once the tea is finished , the undead seems proud… or as proud as one can look whilst wearing a mask. 

“I hope it tastes alright, it’s been a while.” She says, placing a steaming cup in front of him, as well as pulling small cookies from her basket. The undead hesitates, as if unsure if she should pour a cup for herself before she shakes her head and does so. Once satisfied she watches Gidon through the steam of her own cup, lost in thought for a moment. The tea itself is alright, though it’s obvious she hasn’t made tea in a while.

“I’ve heard you were a General of sorts. I’m not sure I entirely understand how it works in Krecana, but it’s an honorable profession. At least in my eyes.” As a knight and occasional commander of small troops in life, she understood at least in a small part the difficulty that being responsible for other could be, though she had to admit… Gidon did have far more experience in that field than she had.

After a moment of silence, Illanya picks up her cup and lifting only the bottom of the mask enough that perhaps her nose and mouth are visible, and takes a gentle sip. It tastes like nothing to her, but the dull warmth was comforting at least. 

She’s quick to place the mask squarely on her face once finished, and turns to look at her drying plants. “I’ve heard you’ve got an interest in Botany. I’ve always been found of the ways different plants could help people. I even used to have a garden before I d-er began my travels.” Her voice wavers at the end, giving away her nerves at almost slipping up.

“And what of you? Do you have a garden or something similar?” She seems eager to forge ahead in the conversation, to bury her own slip up. Illanya’s gloved hands tighten around her cup. She’d have to be more careful… lest she be discovered.

@ NP: This version of Illanya is undead and technically doesn’t really need to eat or drink as it provides no benefit for her nor can she always taste or smell it. However, she was extremely fond of tea when she was alive, and while that love has carried on it carries a bittersweet implication to her. It’s a reminder of something else she can no longer have. Her favorites in life were some like Lemongrass and Chamomile, though she was known to drink others. Nowadays though, she’ll drink anything. She just appreciates the kind gesture.