T - Harps, Callypso, Satra, Dark

[Dark]

Myfanwy’s ears flicked in a small show of annoyance, but she stepped aside and let them enter without comment. Her gaze was on the street, and the mist creeping steadily closer. Monsters, eh? Most excellent. Beyond keeping her sisters content and properly doted upon--a daunting task at times, though she never resented the efforts she sometimes had to go through--she had not had a proper challenge in quite some time.

With one last glance at the street and surrounding buildings, she followed the group into the shoppe and shut the doors firmly behind her, glancing a critical eye about the room.

“And whyfor was it decided upon to take up defensive position in a tea shoppe?” Myfawny asked, morbidly curious about their logic. In addition to the sale of tealeaf parcels, there was a cozy salon in the front to enjoy a cuppa and perhaps a biscuit, and a grand window that anything with a mind to could easily break through. With no way to properly barricade it, though she supposed they could use the tables. And, most importantly: there was nothing that was particularly useful as a weapon. It was not ideal, certainly, but she did love a challenge.

“I am Myfanwy Eumeleia-Zolner,” she intoned, supposing it was only polite after demanding their identities. “Well met.”

[Nathalia]

The mist outside soon blocks out any view of the street whatsoever.
Leaving those inside feeling a bit as though the tea shoppe is drifting through some void of unreality.
The door still operates normally, and they /can/ go outside if they like, but just thinking about it now seems to give everyone involved the same, twisted sensation in their gut.
The shoppe itself smells quite lovely, and look! There's a tea heater, water in tanks, and tea everywhere; you could all make yourselves some, I'm sure; there's even a batch of biscuits and scones in the case. At least you all won't go hungry.
Make note of hat you choose (if anything) and why, though...
Could be important...

(Feel free to make up the names of any tea blends you either choose to use, or mix, and if you ingest any food items and what they are.)

[Harpsdesire]

Having dragged the highlander inside and settled him as comfortably as possible on the floor, Joel took stock of the situation. The store was cozy, the store was well lit and a comfortable temperature and the shop smelled heavenly. It occurred to Joel, as it tended to every hour or so, that he might like a snack. Ever since he had entered his growth spurt he was terribly hungry, even by the standards of his usual considerable appetite.

As luck would have it, there was a case chock full of tasty-looking treats just over th... oh. Hm. The little pink one had a good question. Joel smiled at her a little sheepishly he had to think about it for a moment, tracing back his thought process as he did when constructing the controls for an experiment. "Well, a couple reasons. For one, it was close and that guy" He indicated Alaster with a jab of a bulky paw, "is no lightweight. Also it looked safer than either of the warehouses on the street, and lights were on so I figured it would be unlocked." He didn't sound particularly defensive, and shrugged off any nagging feeling that he was being judged by a child with butterfly wings.

It was at that moment that he noticed through the dotted chintz curtains of the nearest window that the street was now utterly filled with mist. There was no way he was going back out to look for a better 'defensive position' now-- not if the ill feeling in his stomach had anything to say about it!

Or maybe he was just hungrier than he thought? The young man wandered back toward the wall where row after row of labeled tea-tin was displayed. Those scones did look good, and there was an assortment of decorated sugar cookies, too. They seemed to be designed in a spring theme to appeal to children, including such fanciful cutouts as a daisy, a watering can, a butterfly with wings colored more than a little like Myfanwy's and-- to his happy surprise, a colorful beetle of some kind. What a cute little thing! He picked it out of the case gently in a paw, and found that it smelled of delicate lemon and rosewater. Mmmm. "I know it seems strange to be making tea after what just happened, but I think we're going to be in here for a while, so... anyone want a cup? We can probably just leave money on the counter or something."

There were a seemingly infinite array of flavor choices, including such nonsense as 'Benyan afternoon', 'Imperial Gryffon' and 'peach-mango tango'. He nibbled on the bug-shaped cookie as he studied the many teas. It was an adorable cookie, and it would be a shame to just let it get stale!

All these 'flavors' sounded more like parts of an overly dramatic novice love poem than actual descriptions of taste. He grinned lopsidedly as he imagined his teen-aged sister receiving a letter from a 'secret admirer' along the lines of,

"My love for you is like a Highland Sunrise, for you are more lovely than the Moonflower Breeze. Oh, my Almond Divinity, I long for your Rare Tropical Infusion. "

Joel had to stuff the rest of the cookie into his mouth to stifle an awkward giggle as he mixed the teas in question in a small brown paper bag the shop had for those who wished to purchase dry tea leaves. Florid Love Poem Blend, he wrote on the bag with a flourish.

He put his nose into the bag for a sniff and almost recoiled from the overwhelming sweetness. Oouf. Wow. There was no way he was drinking that! Unwilling to either waste or drink the ill-begotten blend, he stuffed it in his bag. He was sure he would find someone who liked it.. eventually. This time he was going to actually smell the tea before he took some.

Joel had sniffed several containers before one stopped him in his tracks with a wave of nostalgia. He suddenly remembered a little girl with a red nose and and excellent set of puppy-dog eyes, a colorful candy shoppe, the trouble had gotten into for spending his mother's grocery money on candy... the trouble had been worth it. Just like a lollipop he had eaten as a little boy, this tea smelled of Raspberry Apple, and he was willing to accept whatever trouble it brought.

Joel brewed a pot of it over the tea heater and drank it. It was strangely and utterly comforting. As his stomach was not contented with only the small sugar cookie, Joel helped himself to a plate of currant scones as well. Mm, just like the ones Dania's mother made when he visited the Torquehelm queen in her home, except that those were still warm from the oven and served with Devonshire cream in liberal amounts.

((I hope I didn't go overboard here. Let me know if I should change anything))

[Callypso]

((Ha! Joel is too funny! His shenanigans made me laugh, Harps! Also, Nat - I'm not intentionally skipping Satra, I just don't know when Alaster's supposed to "come to". Let me know if I should delete and repost later.))

Emery held the door open for his companions and watched, with one eyebrow raised, as the girl made certain the door was shut and bolted. He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or wary of her diligence, especially when she proceeded to question why they chose this, of all places, to hide in. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they were being drilled for intelligence. “Precocious” didn’t seem the appropriate adjective. The accent alone was mind-boggling, never mind the questions.

Well met, Myfanwy, the Ace replied, the corner of his mouth twitching a bit. The warehouse across the street might have been a better option, but this man fell down the stairs. We couldn’t just leave him there, and, like Joel said, it wasn’t practical to cart him all the way over there. We needed to get inside, fast, and this was our best option at the moment.

He grabbed a couple tea towels from atop the counter and placed them under the prone man’s head, then looked back at the girl with a questioning look in his eyes. Were you here by yourself earlier, without your parents? The Villa-Highlander took a sweeping look of the room, Come to think of it, where’s the owner? It seemed strange that there would be no one tending the register. Emery looked back toward the door and caught a glimpse of the heavy mist rolling past the window and obscuring all view.

No, we should stay put – that fog doesn’t seem natural. With a sinking feeling, Emery realized how uncomfortably familiar this scene was. The scent of baked goods was sadly reminiscent of Mrs. Lovett’s bakery. His companions at the time had ransacked her pantry then, too. And the last time he had barricaded himself similarly in a café was also during the War, when he found himself responsible for not one, but dozens of children. He hoped that this shopkeep would actually return.

Let’s get as comfortable as we can and see if this fog doesn’t let up.

He absently browsed the tea selection until one grabbed his attention, Juggler’s Choice: For those with too much on their plate. A special blend from Sorgaire! A dose of serenity with a boost of confidence designed to aid a struggling Card make it through the day!

Emery snorted aloud, I could use some of that, he muttered as he tossed a small handful of leaves from the jar into a waiting cup to brew.

Snagging a fluffy, buttery crossiant from the display case, he looked toward Myfanwy. Let me know if there’s anything you want and can’t reach. Emery, who was usually a good judge of character, had a feeling that this particular girl didn't want to be fussed over at all.

Munching all the while on his pastry, Emery began a cursory look over the rest of the shoppe for any unexpected surprises.

---------------------------

Linden helped Joel with their hefty cargo then turned to survey their surroundings. It was a cute little shoppe, though he wasn’t exactly sure what they were going to do now that they were here. It seemed a decent enough place for now, though how on earth they were going to determine when it was safe to leave was beyond him.

Tea-time it is, then, he drawled as he headed over to the counter. Might as well make themselves at home while they waited for… he wasn’t sure what exactly, but it smelled nice and felt infinitely more comforting indoors than out.

Linden selected what appeared to be a chocolate loaf of some kind, and found, to his delight, a Chai mixture behind the counter that he immediately scooped into a mug. The really good loose-leaf Chai tended to be on the more expensive side, and what with him being new to the workforce and three mouths to feed, well, he didn’t get this type of treat very often.

He stretched his arms, limbs overhead as the fairy child, for lack of better terms, essentially interrogated the others. She was cute – she reminded him of his younger sisters (he hoped they were okay at home!) – and if he was any judge, she was somewhere in-between Rowan and Laurel in age.

Better here than out there with the plant monster, don’t you think?, he added with a grin.

With a start, the donkey/wolf hybrid realized he recognized her cockneyed accent. It wasn’t as though he’d heard that dialect around town - the knowledge happened to trickle to the forefront of his mind from his pool of second-hand experience, and he knew it for what it was: Mother. He dropped his arms, crossing them instead, and frowned.

Say, where’d you pick up an accent like that? You don’t look Veldt… If Myfanwy did in fact know to what he was referring, doubtless she’d notice the wheat-like stalks that decorated his hide.

[Dark]

Watching Joel devour a cookie, several scones, and a whole pot of tea in mild fascination, Myfanwy wondered idly if he was a stress eater. It seemed strange to her that they were eating rather than strategizing for the inevitable trouble. Plant monsters didn’t just stop attacking. Not that Myfanwy had any real experience with plant monsters, or monsters of any type--besides renegade Cards, that is--but in all the novellas she had read the monsters were unrelenting and surprisingly cunning.

Myfanwy twitched slightly, but refrained from a burst of temper. It was common for people to mistake her for a child: she was small for her age, and she sometimes resented it, but it was better to be underestimated she told herself (sometimes quite vehemently). She responded politely: “I’m ten and six, ser, and plenty old to take a stroll without chaperone.” She was nearly ten and seven!

Her gaze switched to Linden. She rarely thought about her accent--she hardly noticed herself--though her mother complained mightily on occasion. “Mayhaps I spent a long spell in the Veldt, ser,” she responded dryly. “I received my training there.”

Myfanwy went behind the counter to rummage through the drawers and cupboards searching for a suitable weapon. In a drawer with twine and packing paper, there was a pair of scissors; not ideal, but she set them on the counter and continued her search (she set the twine out, as well). In the bakery case, there was a long serrated bread knife which she eagerly took possession of.

And then there was nothing to do but--wait. As much as she would have enjoyed charging out into the mist to face the unknown--the thought filled her with a little chill--it was not a wise maneuver; it was better to wait where they had even a slight advantage (though not much of one, since it was a tea shoppe).

So she broke down and made herself a cuppa: a post-fermented blend called Purple Lady that she was rather fond of. A dark tea, purple in hue, and thick. A little bitter going done, but with a pleasant aftertaste.

She sipped at the brew, and considered the mist outside.

[Harpsdesire]

Joel caught Myfanwy looking at him oddly as he ate. "Want a scone?" He offered with a smile, and without any expectation that she would accept. She was an odd kid, or, er, apparently teen a little younger than himself. He felt a bit bad that he had taken her for a child, but she was so tiny! But then, he dwarfed Emery in size also-- maybe it was just that he had forgotten he was large. He looked down at the dainty china teacup, which was almost humorously little in his paw. Yes, that was probably it. He forgot a lot of obvious things in his pursuit of the obscure. It was probably something of a Corvie realm trait.

The yarrow gir-- young woman, on the other hand, seemed plenty attentive to detail, and as she armed herself with a bread knife Joel was reminded when he had given the Spaces Court kitchen a similar ransacking, and the cleaver that he had found. That lead inexorably to thoughts of that very same cleaver, slick with a joker's blood... no, no, no. Um... puppies, banana pudding, that Myfanwy girl is a tiny bit cute now that I know she's not seven years old, Joel thought. He proceeded to fill his thoughts, and his suddenly-twitchy stomach, with another bite of scone.

As the others all helped themselves to tea, Joel regarded the mist-whitened windows with sudden suspicion. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to close the shutters, just as a precaution. Secure the perimeter and all that. Leaving his cooling tea behind, he began to close and latch the shutters, which made him feel better even if they were somewhat flimsy wooden things painted buttercup yellow.

[Callypso]

Emery winced as he was calmly corrected by the young woman – oops. He wasn’t exactly a bastion of maturity himself, though he was spared that particular mistake with the beard-like mane he sported. Ah, sorry about that. She was probably used to it, considering how petite she was, but that probably didn’t make it any easier to have to correct people all the time.

It sure as hell explained a lot about her other mannerisms and concerns, too. He was even more impressed when she began exploring the shoppe for, he presumed, weapons of some sort.

Once more he was reminded of the War – back then he’d equipped himself with a sheet pan and a poker – and they had actually come in handy. While he tried to tell himself this was another matter entirely (how did you equip yourself against a rogue fern?), the queer fog outside told him otherwise. The feeling was almost instinctual – he just knew he didn’t want to be out there.

And when someone who was as much home on the backstreets than indoors as he was became nervous about the goings-on, well, that was not a good sign.

The Ace took a sip of his tea and made his way towards the back of the shoppe, wondering if anything useful could be found. Stretching his neck and sighing, he happened to look up toward the ceiling. Oh. Well. That could work.

He hauled one of the café chairs away from its table and stood upon it to reach a drying hook. He was relatively certain tea leaves were prepared on racks, but maybe the shop owner dried mint or rosemary for garnish? The hook wasn’t as ghastly as say, a meat hook, but was still a good foot and half long with a curl on the end. Good enough.

A nearby miniature pantry held extra tea towels, tablecloths and various other linens. He clacked his beak, then grabbed a checkered tablecloth, threw some of the towels in, then kept poking around. There had to be a first aid kit somewhere, right?

----------------------------------------------------------
Wasn’t that interesting. Linden’s eyebrows raised when Myfanwy politely informed Emery that she wasn’t a toddler. She was only a couple years his junior, and the same age as Rowan! And she had “trained” in the Veldt? How had she managed that particular feat? The canine mix was getting more interesting all the time!

And you made it there and back safely? And trained, no less? His visage was slightly incredulous, if not impressed. Since when did the Militia begin accepting Outsider pupils?

The Jack hoped he didn’t seem overeager for conversation. It wasn’t often he was afforded the opportunity to discuss his mother’s culture with others. In fact, it never happened. The Durumians were rare in the Capital. As far as he knew, he and his siblings were the only denizens with Veldt heritage. His knowledge may have been second-hand, but it was still there, and it made him ache with longing for the parent he would never truly know.

Why, of all possible scenarios, did he have to meet Myfanwy when foliage was attacking innocent bystanders and strange mists overtook the streets? It was really rather inconvenient.

[Nathalia]

An odd feeling suddenly fell over everyone in the shoppe.
A sort of...tingling, as though they had consumed something magical...damn.
Joel felt the tingling sit quite firmly in his mouth, slowly working its way up to his brain, alerting him to a new spell.

Joel's Tea Spell: Once a week, he is now able to cause any Spades water ability to blast out, full force as incredibly hot, boiling water, practically steam from the heat. This ability will last the duration of the Card's Spade water spell, and then cease.[/color]

Emery, on the other hand, felt the tingling settle into his hands, before kicking into his brain.

Emery's Tea Spell: Once a week, he is now able to cause another Card ranked 10 or lower to become rather exceedingly clumsy for a full minute. Useful little spell for a supposedly non-magical Ace...[/color]

Linden felt his entire face tingle almost painfully, before registering his new spell.

Linden's Tea Spell: Once a week, he is now able to cause any other Card, ranked or no, to feel an incredibly spicy and simultaneously bitter flavor creep into their mouths and plant itself for a full hour. This is a painful experience as the spicy sensation won't die, and the depth to the bitter tang is enough to cause many to gag. Urgh, how unpleasant.[/color]

Myfanwy felt nothing but a dull ache in the back of her head that receded after a minute, leaving her with a new spell...

Myfanwy's Tea Spell: Once a week, she is able to cause a Card ranked 6 or lower to completely forget what is was they were doing in the five minutes before she walked up to them. This can be quite confusing as any plans for what to say or greet someone with are suddenly forced and awkward.[/color]

Wow...what was in those teas?
Strange thing to have happen, especially when you can't see the street outs- Hey!
Very, very slowly, the mist seems to be clearing outside...probably not the best idea to go outside yet, as you won't be able to see anything and could easily be swept away and lost in the fog, but perhaps someone should be keeping watch...[/i]

[Satra]

The large crack noise was largely made by a loose floor board, and not so much by his head. Alaster began to recover as his new companions had a tea party while a pseudo apocalypse happened outside. He shook his head and his vision came into focus quickly. Why... why were they drinking tea? He pushed back a few mental curses that he couldn't smell it, but that was a personal issue.

"What... what are you all doing?" he asked, holding his head and getting up. Were they just... helping themselves? Alaster felt a surge of annoyance. Just because things were becoming a nightmare outside did NOT excuse looting. He raises a scaley eyebrow. "I certainly hope you all intend to pay for that."

He got up and walked around And you've left the lights on, he thought. People were being attacked outside and they've left every clue that they were in here. He had no back up and no weapon. He had little chance of going out and defeating whatever was out there (especially when his head throbbed so). His best hope was to keep these people alive. Being turned around, he was oblivious to whatever visual reactions they were having to their new tea powers. He turned to them.

"If you would all be so kind as to perhaps put down the tea for a bit and help me cover up the windows and the cracks in the door so less light gets out? We should do more to wait out... whatever is happening out there."

[Dark]

Myfanwy crinkled her nose slightly; it was nice enough of the boy to offer, but she attempted to avoid an excess of carbohydrates in her diet. Unless it was cake of some sort; she had an extremely hard time saying no to cake. (But that had more to do with fillings and frostings than anything; sugar in any form was the downfall of her entire litter). She politely declined.

“No harm,” Myfanwy murmured when Emery apologized, having already moved past the momentary indignation.

There was something odd about her tea, though, and a dull ache took up residence in the back of her head. She rubbed at the spot, and it seemed to recede. Strange, but she felt as if she might have gained some spark of knowledge and learned a new spell. Just what exactly had been in her tea? She was distracted from her musings by Linden.

“Advise thee I stand before thee presently,” Myfanwy pointed out rather sharply, feeling insulted. An outsider was she, now; she was a Heart, born to fight, and she felt as much a part of the Veldt as anyone with a stalk of wheat in their fur. “Five years I spent under the private tutelage of Guardswoman Reisz.”

Eventually, the Rescue regained consciousness, and Myfanwy could not say she was very impressed with his behavior thus far, bossing everyone about as if he hadn’t just spent the last thirty or so minutes passed out on the floor in an undignified heap.

“How kind of thee to finally join the living,” Myfanwy scoffed. “As you can see the shutters are sealed tight, and we have armed ourselves as well as we are able. There is not much else to do, in a tea shoppe.”