Closed [Mhakula Tea House] Better than Rice Pudding (Tanell)

[Rathe]

47th of Summer, 515 AV
14th Bell

Syna shone brightly that day. Her warm rays beat blindingly against Rathe’s white shirt, but did nothing to ease the dark cloud in his mind. Even the familiar statues of Zintilla that decorated the exterior of the Mhakula Tea House couldn't warm him as he entered the domed building.

He was immediately met by the same dark haired waiter that had greeted him a hundred times before. The short man smiled and bowed. "You’re by yourself today?" he asked, looking beyond the back of Rathe's head.

Rathe’s smile wavered. “I’m the only one here today,” he said, his thoughts heading in the wrong direction. He'd been to the tea house countless times with his best friend, but today he was here alone. He hadn't seen Chevu in nearly a season.

The waiter led him to a smaller table and waved him into an empty seat, then handed him the menu and disappeared.

Rathe settled quietly onto the green velvet seats, but couldn't quite get comfortable. He stared down at the worn menu on the table, his eyes glazing over while he fiddled with the list he'd long ago memorized. It was strange that his mind was so restless. He'd been drawn here, sure he was hungry and ready to stuff himself full of on some of Lhavit's tastiest treats, but now that he sat here close enough to smell the oven, his appetite left him.

His gaze wandered from the menu, to the pale yellow walls, and eventually to the small crowd that filled the tea house. Most seats were taken. Only a few remained empty, but it wasn't those empty tables that interested him. In fact there was one in particular that drew his attention. It was the two girls sitting together, with their school books on the table that made his chest grow tight.

Rathe frowned. Maybe this trip to the tea house hadn't been the brightest idea in Mizahar. None of his ideas ever seemed to work out. His dream of business prospects in Kenash was a perfect example. Those plans had fallen apart before he’d ever even left Lhavit. And there were countless more half-baked dreams that had never materialized just like it. That’s why the chair across from his was as empty as his mind.

At that, the waiter returned. “Are you ready to order?”

The decisions seemed to be piling up on him. Their weight was enormous and holding him down in ways he hadn’t noticed until now. Even lifting his hand to skim the menu was a chore. He drew the pad of his calloused finger along a line of words. Without Chevu there to guide him, he had no idea what line he was looking at. “Raspberry pie and twilight’s dawn.”

The waiter looked surprised. “Oh. Not the usual?”

Rathe handed the menu back to the waiter. “I’m ready for something new,” he replied. And those words couldn’t have been truer. He leaned back in his seat as the waiter disappeared for a second time and focused on the bustle of the incoming crowd, wishing for a distraction from his thoughts.

[Tanell]

Syna had reached her zenith, they heat of her brilliance reminding all of the strength of her being. Even now, as she began her descent towards the horizon, a journey only just begun, she kept on blazing, radiant and beautiful. Tanell enjoyed the heat of her light, the energy it departed in her form, yet on days like this one, when Syna grew so warm in the midst of her preferred season, Tanell often sought a gentle reprieve. Although, not without first luxuriating in the golden goddesses light.

She took to her dress in the warm seasons, trading boots for sandals, and parting completely with her cape in the summer. It was far too warm for such things, and her clothing from home was well suited for even the hottest of days. Dressed as such, she left home for a walk, a quiet prayer to Syna - thanking her for sharing her glory with them - the initial movement of her journey.

Walking often provided relief in the form of a breeze, either natural or shaped of quickness of step, made all the more likely by the crossing between peaks. Her pace was smoothly taken, not nearly so rapid as some, but not meandering today, instead falling at a happy medium. The notice of such a thing seemed frivolous, but she often found that depending on her whereabouts, she could perturb many a citizen with a step too fast, or too slow. She made her best efforts to move through the crowds with out drawing too much attention.

Her wandering led her quickly to the place where her walks often led her. The Mhakula Tea House. Her attraction to the location ever growing, for she often met the most interesting people over a cup of tea, and often fell prey to buying tea in bulk when there was a sale. She considered often growing tea of her own, but that required seeds, and knowledge of the plant beyond it's use in hot water. She had neither. Although she imagined the plant grew similarly to the others she tended, the small shoots she had planted in the spring thriving now with the love and attention she paid them.

Zintila stood, as she always did, at the front doors of the tea house, and Tanell paused once more in her trip to curtsy to the statue of the demigoddess who so beautifully decorated their city. "Maiden fair, although Syna shines too brightly to find your decoration of the skies, your gifts still shine brightly from this city, only here because you are there."

The rumbling discord of annoyance danced through her mind as a woman was forced to step around her to enter the shop. The reminder that she was blocking the path was enough to shepherd her forward into the shop. Her appearance was not strange in the building, but even still she could hear the sliding refrain of surprise from the waiter as he approached.

The crowded room was a pleasant surprise, even as she realized there were no empty tables left for her to find. Perhaps that was the cause of the odd feelings of the waiter. She smiled at him as he approached, the mellow apologetic music that preceded him an indication of the words to come.

They were full, he explained, spreading his hands to encompass the entire room. Tanell just nodded, of course, she understood.

"Perhaps you would like something to take with you? We can send something home for you, if you are willing to wait without a table." He offered her a solution quickly, likely in hopes of retaining her patronage.

"It is quite alright, I'll return another time. I am more pleased to see that you are so busy, rather than empty and seeking customers." She offered the words to him, hoping the reassurance would soothe his mind. Perhaps it was better that she leave, for when it was so crowded as it was here, it grew quite loud in her head. Passing glances sharing tidbits of information with her, someone the drumming beat of jealousy, another the familiar staccato of interest. More and more sounds would join them, fleeting and often discordant, but there all the same. It could quickly grow overwhelming.

[Rathe]

He clasped his hand over his stomach as the waiter placed his plate on the table alongside his cup of tea.

“This is a real treat. It’s one of our best sellers,” he said, then hurried off to seat more patrons.

Rathe picked up his fork and pushed at the pie in front of him. He pried the crust off first and crumbled it with his fork. He guessed it was a mix of flour, sugar, butter and eggs. The person who baked it had done an excellent job; the crust was perfectly golden. It would have taken him countless tries to get something even half as good.

He dug his fork into the red raspberry filling and took a bite, savoring the flavors on his tongue. The ingredients were fresh, but the spices eluded him. It was, however, just what he’d wanted and nothing at all like the rice pudding. In fact, he’d never had it anywhere else, even at the Sunrise Nook. When he got home later, he could pick the recipe apart. Trying to figure out what was in it would give him something to do to keep his mind off of being there alone anyway.

His second bite didn’t go down as well as the first. As nice as it was in his mouth, it felt like a lump when it hit his stomach. He took a swig of the tea to wash it down, but it didn’t help much, so he took another, and a few more, but nothing helped.

Customers continued to pile in as he drank down the rest of his tea. He hadn’t seen how much the place was filling in while he was poking around at the pie. Now he noticed people were being turned away. It made him feel guilty that he was taking up a table for two when he was all by himself.

Rathe slid out from his chair and headed toward the entrance. It might have been because the patron they were sending away was a pretty young konti, or it might have been that he was tired of looking at an empty chair. It didn’t really matter.

He looked down at the girl and was surprised he managed a genuine smile in her direction. “I actually have room at my table if you want to share with me. I’ll be done in a few chimes, then you can have the whole thing to yourself.”

OOC- 7 kina for pie & tea

[Tanell]

She was going to leave, having turned and begun seeking a path out when a sound stopped her. There it was again, interest although this time of a more innocent nature, a subtle difference, no longer the sensuous beat of rising tempers, instead the soothing sound of curiosity, and perhaps a chord of pleasure.

She turned, seeking the sound purely out of curiosity. The notes rang more loudly, rising above the others until it was apparent the sound was the mind of the man approaching. He was by all appearance human, handsome, and outwardly brooding, although he seemed to smile gracefully enough at her.

"I actually have room at my table if you want to share with me. I’ll be done in a few chimes, then you can have the whole thing to yourself." He offered, the words self-depreciating, but seemingly genuine, as though he was sure she might take his offer only in hopes that he would leave quickly. She looked up to him as he spoke, finding he was quite a bit taller than herself.

"It is very kind of you to offer, I would love to share your table and your company." She informed him, a smile offered in return. "I am Tanell," She curtsied as she introduced herself, hoping to learn something of the man in return, something beyond the surface.

That was not to say that the surface he presented was unappealing, dressed neatly with eyes to rival the color of her own. It was a most welcomed reminder of home, where it was far more unusual to find someone with darkly colored anything.