Cosmic Funnies
titsay
i don't do bad sauce passes
Misplaced Lens Cap
Not today Justin
Sade Olutola
shark vs the universe
No title available
DEAR READER
Keni
AnasAbdin
No title available
$LAYYYTER
Janaina Medeiros
roma★
#extradirty
Xuebing Du
Peter Solarz
Jules of Nature
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Austria
seen from United States
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Mongolia
seen from United States
seen from United States
@oldgreydragon
A new building has appeared just off the main road, tucked behind the larger, nicer stores, where it can only be found if you happened to look.
An old man with long grey hair and a beard hums a song as he sweeps his front step, dressed in simple green robes.
Sunlight shines off the sign hanging above the door.
The Jasmine Dragon.
There's a door where there wasn't one before. Vaguely East Asian in style, simple with only a bit of ornamentation.
From it, the warm smell of fresh brewed tea floats on the air.
There's a sign on the door, carved by hand.
The Jasmine Dragon
( @oldgreydragon )
Confused, Grace stares at the door for a long moment. He could have sworn that door wasn’t there a couple seconds ago— and it was made of wood. There wasn’t any wood here, other than some small pieces.
Cautious, but admittedly curious, Grace stepped over to the door and opened it. The warm smell of tea wafted inside. After years of just eating what was available and had nutrients, the thought of tea made his mouth water.
“Uh— hello?” He called, peeking his head inside, glasses low on his nose.
An old man in green robes is sweeping the floor of a tea shop. Warm sunlight streams through the windows, and the space is filled with the smell of tea and sweet pastries.
He looks up when Grace opens the door and smiles. "Ah, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, my friend. Come in, come in, have a seat. What can I get for you?"
Grace glanced behind him into his house, then back into the tea shop, checking that he wasn’t just seeing things. Once he was sure of himself, he nodded a bit, pushing up his glasses and straightening, taking a step inside.
“I… uh— alright,” he stuttered out, “I don’t know. What, uh— what do you have?” Grace shuffled inside, looking around at the glow of the windows in slight confusion as he tried to find the best place to sit. He didn’t want to be weird or rude to this nice man.
He smiles and gestures to a table next to a window. "Come, sit. I have many different types of tea, and some pastries. But you seem like you need a hearty meal, I can make some noodles for you. Do you like roast duck?"
He sets the broom away behind the counter, pulling out cups and a tea pot to set over a small burner.
"Ah, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Iroh, but most just call me Uncle nowadays."
Grace slid into the seat of the table the man had gestured to. Looking down at his arms at the comment he made of him needing a hearty meal, he let out a light laugh. Despite his best efforts, he still needed to heal a bit from the nutrient deficiency and starvation from a year-ish earlier.
“I’ve never had roast duck before. I’m willing to give it a try,” he smiled lightly. Something about the atmosphere here was putting him at ease. “Nice to meet you, Uncle Iroh,” he put the names together, just because it felt right to start off. “I’m Ryland Grace. Most people call me Grace, but either is fine.”
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grace." Iroh smiles as he lights the small burner for the water- no match, no lighter, no click of gas, just a sudden start of a tiny flame.
As the pot boils, he steps through a curtain into the back, returning with two bowls full of noodles and broth, slices of meat and steamed vegetables. He sets one of them in front of Grace with some chopsticks. "There is plenty more, should you want it." He adds.
"What sort of tea would you like? Or would you prefer a recommendation?"
At the odd way the fire was lit, Grace had opened his mouth to ask about it. The appearance of food on the table cut him off, the savory smell drawing his eyes down. It smelled amazing. Grace picked up the chopsticks, glad he had taught himself to use them to when he had ordered Chinese food a lot as a teacher.
“I don’t drink a lot of tea nowadays, so a recommendation would be good,” he smiled, carefully picking up some of the noodles and eating them. His eyes widened, and he spoke up after he swallowed. “This is amazing..! How…? Wow, I missed real flavor in food.”
Iroh beams. "Why thank you! It took me many years to learn to do it well. An old ship cook taught me."
He bustles about, preparing a small pot of tea and two cups. "I will make a rose hip tea for you. It is very tasty, and helps with joint pain."
Grace grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “The work definitely paid off,” he commended, serious but light.
His eyebrow raise in excitement and astonishment at the fact that tea could help with joint pain. It made sense, as medication was made from a lot of plants, but it sounded wonderful to have something ease the ache that also tasted good. “That sounds really good. Joint pain has been a pain in the butt these last few years,” he let out a light laugh. “Thank you so much.”
"Then I will send you home with some. It has been a great help to my old bones." He smiles, setting down the pot and a pair of cups.
"Would you care for some company? I enjoy sharing a bit of conversation with my customers when I can."
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” he smiled, then turning his eyes to the pot and cups. Nice old ceramics, it looked like.
“I’d love some company. I don’t get much of it from, well human people nowadays,” he shrugged. “I’m not quite sure how your tea shop just— showed up here, honestly. Magic or something.” He let out a light laugh.
"Hm, I cannot be sure. I know where my shop is, but I also know that, as of late, my door has opened to many places it should not. A blessing from the spirits, perhaps, that my door appears to those who need it."
He strokes his beard, deep in thought. "My shop currently resides near the city center of Ba Sing Se. But it sounds like this is not where you came in from?"
Grace hummed and nodded. “That makes sense. After the past few years, I wouldn’t put it past this universe to throw something newly supernatural my way,” he laughed lightly, bringing his tea close for a sip. Wow, it was good.
“Mm— no, I’ve never heard of that city,” he confirmed. “I am actually— well, was— on an alien planet before I stepped in here. Trillions of miles from Earth.”
"Earth, so our homes share the same planet. But perhaps, different versions. You could not have lived on my Earth without hearing about Ba Sing Se, even in the far reaches of the poles."
Iroh hums as he takes a sip. "How fascinating. I am not a man of science myself, but a close friend of my nephew is. I am sure he would have many things to say."
“…must be, if everything is so different,” Grace hummed in agreement, setting down his cup on the table delicately. “I’m sure he would, as a fellow person of science.”
“I’m a bit curious, actually, if our Earths are different, just… how they’re different,” he tried. “Like— you lit the fire for the tea without doing anything to spark it. How did you do that?”
Iroh does seem genuinely surprised by this. "Your Earth does not have benders?" He asks. As he does, he holds out a hand, a flame jumping to life in his palm. It dances calmly, under total control.
"Here, the world is split into four nations, and each with its own elemental power. There are people in each nation blessed with the ability to control and wield that element. While I currently live in the Earth Kingdom, I hail from the Fire Nation, and was born a firebender."
Grace’s jaw dropped at the little flame in Irish’s palm, and he tilted his head to look at it from different angles, not quite believing what he was seeing. It looked completely real, though. No trick of the light or anything.
“No, we… we don’t have benders,” he said, a bit distracted. “So, there are people all over your Earth who can just— pardon my wording— magic elements around like it’s another sense? That’s crazy. I assume it’s… fire, water, earth, and air? For the four nations?”
Iroh looks pleased. "Yes, very good. And hm, no, not like another sense. Though, I am aware of at least one earthbender who uses her bending to see, as she is blind."
"But while the ability to bend is something you are born with, it is a skill that must be trained and learned."
"It is said that each of the four bending nations learned from the natural world, and those traditions are passed down, refined, and built upon."
“That is a very smart way to use an ability like that,” Grace said in a hum. “So, it’s more like a muscle in a sense like— gymnasts pass down their skills to their students by teaching them how to strengthen themselves to do— vaults, or whatever.” He nodded to himself, making the comparisons having made it easier to comprehend the whole ‘bending’ thing.
“It sounds like an art form. Learning from the earth,” Grace smiled as he took another sip of the tea.
"Very much so. The original benders observed the world and the creatures around them, and learned how to bend the elements as they do."
Iroh extinguishes the flame by closing his hand. "Bending is a connection to the world, and to our ancestors. Sadly, many people have lost this view, and use bending as a power over others."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
He doesn't fight it. Hey, if this is hell, he's okay with that.
"How are you down here?" he mutters through mouthfuls of maybe the most flavorful thing he's tasted in his life.
Iroh begins to set up a pot to boil water over on the counter. There's a small spark of flame, but no match, no lighter.
"I am not sure what you mean by "down here"," He admits. "But I have found that my door opens to many places it shouldn't. Usually, my shop is in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se."
He gestures to the window, and outside of it is an incredibly massive city built of white stone. It goes on all the way to the horizon.
The sky is blue, and the sun is warm.
"The... the sun.." he whispers quietly. This isn't hell. How did he get here?
He realizes his eyes are damp, and quickly wipes them off before Iroh returns.
Iroh reaches for a container of tea, glances at the strange young man, and switches direction for a different one.
A few minutes later, he returns with the pot and two small clay cups.
"Lemon balm tea. It will help." He says softly, setting one of the cups in front of Simon.
What he does not say out loud is that it's a tea meant for anxiety and heart palpitations.
He sits across from him and pours them each a cup. "May I know your name, young name?"
"It's Simon." he mumbles.
"Thank you." He hasn't felt this safe in so long.
Iroh smiles gently at him. "It is nice to meet you, Simon. Please, stay as long as you'd like. I have plenty to share."
There's no other explanation. Simon's dead. The stars didn't magically return, the trees didn't grow back out of nowhere. He's dead, and this is the afterlife that The Father promised him.
Selfishly, he continues to pretend it's real. He drinks the warm drink (Tea?) and eats the food slowly, as to not waste a single minute of feeling full. Of feeling warm.
Iroh doesn't speak, just allowing the silence to sit. He's not sure who this man is, or what happened to have him so shaken, but the very least he can do is give him some peace, and some warm food and tea.
When their bowls are empty, some time later, Iroh takes the chance to ask, "Would you care for something sweet? I have some red bean buns from the baker down the road. She is very talented."
"I'm... not sure I've ever had that." He says softly.
He should leave. This is all wrong. He needs to complete his dive. Earn his freedom. Get out of this godforsaken sub.
But how could he, when the alternative is dark skies and rationed food? He's pretty sure if he asked Iroh for seconds he'd get them.
Not that he would. But still.
Iroh stands, beaming. "Then I will be pleased to introduce it to you," he says, moving to the counter to retrieve a pair of the soft fluffy buns.
He passes one of them to Simon. He's resolved to try and keep the man here as long as he reasonably could. It's clear that whatever he's going back to is less than ideal.
"I appreciate that you joined me for lunch. A meal tastes much better when shared with someone."
"It.. it is, yeah." He mumbles.
Simon tears a piece off of the bun and puts it in his mouth carefully. It's.. really good. Surprisingly sweet, but not the fake sweetener they used to use on Mars.
"This is good. Thank you."
"I will be sure to pass your compliments to my neighbor. Her talents are remarkable."
He smiles gently at Simon. "I am curious how you came to find my shop. Most who find my door in places they shouldn't often need it most."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
He doesn't fight it. Hey, if this is hell, he's okay with that.
"How are you down here?" he mutters through mouthfuls of maybe the most flavorful thing he's tasted in his life.
Iroh begins to set up a pot to boil water over on the counter. There's a small spark of flame, but no match, no lighter.
"I am not sure what you mean by "down here"," He admits. "But I have found that my door opens to many places it shouldn't. Usually, my shop is in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se."
He gestures to the window, and outside of it is an incredibly massive city built of white stone. It goes on all the way to the horizon.
The sky is blue, and the sun is warm.
"The... the sun.." he whispers quietly. This isn't hell. How did he get here?
He realizes his eyes are damp, and quickly wipes them off before Iroh returns.
Iroh reaches for a container of tea, glances at the strange young man, and switches direction for a different one.
A few minutes later, he returns with the pot and two small clay cups.
"Lemon balm tea. It will help." He says softly, setting one of the cups in front of Simon.
What he does not say out loud is that it's a tea meant for anxiety and heart palpitations.
He sits across from him and pours them each a cup. "May I know your name, young name?"
"It's Simon." he mumbles.
"Thank you." He hasn't felt this safe in so long.
Iroh smiles gently at him. "It is nice to meet you, Simon. Please, stay as long as you'd like. I have plenty to share."
There's no other explanation. Simon's dead. The stars didn't magically return, the trees didn't grow back out of nowhere. He's dead, and this is the afterlife that The Father promised him.
Selfishly, he continues to pretend it's real. He drinks the warm drink (Tea?) and eats the food slowly, as to not waste a single minute of feeling full. Of feeling warm.
Iroh doesn't speak, just allowing the silence to sit. He's not sure who this man is, or what happened to have him so shaken, but the very least he can do is give him some peace, and some warm food and tea.
When their bowls are empty, some time later, Iroh takes the chance to ask, "Would you care for something sweet? I have some red bean buns from the baker down the road. She is very talented."
"I'm... not sure I've ever had that." He says softly.
He should leave. This is all wrong. He needs to complete his dive. Earn his freedom. Get out of this godforsaken sub.
But how could he, when the alternative is dark skies and rationed food? He's pretty sure if he asked Iroh for seconds he'd get them.
Not that he would. But still.
Iroh stands, beaming. "Then I will be pleased to introduce it to you," he says, moving to the counter to retrieve a pair of the soft fluffy buns.
He passes one of them to Simon. He's resolved to try and keep the man here as long as he reasonably could. It's clear that whatever he's going back to is less than ideal.
"I appreciate that you joined me for lunch. A meal tastes much better when shared with someone."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
He doesn't fight it. Hey, if this is hell, he's okay with that.
"How are you down here?" he mutters through mouthfuls of maybe the most flavorful thing he's tasted in his life.
Iroh begins to set up a pot to boil water over on the counter. There's a small spark of flame, but no match, no lighter.
"I am not sure what you mean by "down here"," He admits. "But I have found that my door opens to many places it shouldn't. Usually, my shop is in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se."
He gestures to the window, and outside of it is an incredibly massive city built of white stone. It goes on all the way to the horizon.
The sky is blue, and the sun is warm.
"The... the sun.." he whispers quietly. This isn't hell. How did he get here?
He realizes his eyes are damp, and quickly wipes them off before Iroh returns.
Iroh reaches for a container of tea, glances at the strange young man, and switches direction for a different one.
A few minutes later, he returns with the pot and two small clay cups.
"Lemon balm tea. It will help." He says softly, setting one of the cups in front of Simon.
What he does not say out loud is that it's a tea meant for anxiety and heart palpitations.
He sits across from him and pours them each a cup. "May I know your name, young name?"
"It's Simon." he mumbles.
"Thank you." He hasn't felt this safe in so long.
Iroh smiles gently at him. "It is nice to meet you, Simon. Please, stay as long as you'd like. I have plenty to share."
There's no other explanation. Simon's dead. The stars didn't magically return, the trees didn't grow back out of nowhere. He's dead, and this is the afterlife that The Father promised him.
Selfishly, he continues to pretend it's real. He drinks the warm drink (Tea?) and eats the food slowly, as to not waste a single minute of feeling full. Of feeling warm.
Iroh doesn't speak, just allowing the silence to sit. He's not sure who this man is, or what happened to have him so shaken, but the very least he can do is give him some peace, and some warm food and tea.
When their bowls are empty, some time later, Iroh takes the chance to ask, "Would you care for something sweet? I have some red bean buns from the baker down the road. She is very talented."
There's a door where there wasn't one before. Vaguely East Asian in style, simple with only a bit of ornamentation.
From it, the warm smell of fresh brewed tea floats on the air.
There's a sign on the door, carved by hand.
The Jasmine Dragon
( @oldgreydragon )
Confused, Grace stares at the door for a long moment. He could have sworn that door wasn’t there a couple seconds ago— and it was made of wood. There wasn’t any wood here, other than some small pieces.
Cautious, but admittedly curious, Grace stepped over to the door and opened it. The warm smell of tea wafted inside. After years of just eating what was available and had nutrients, the thought of tea made his mouth water.
“Uh— hello?” He called, peeking his head inside, glasses low on his nose.
An old man in green robes is sweeping the floor of a tea shop. Warm sunlight streams through the windows, and the space is filled with the smell of tea and sweet pastries.
He looks up when Grace opens the door and smiles. "Ah, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, my friend. Come in, come in, have a seat. What can I get for you?"
Grace glanced behind him into his house, then back into the tea shop, checking that he wasn’t just seeing things. Once he was sure of himself, he nodded a bit, pushing up his glasses and straightening, taking a step inside.
“I… uh— alright,” he stuttered out, “I don’t know. What, uh— what do you have?” Grace shuffled inside, looking around at the glow of the windows in slight confusion as he tried to find the best place to sit. He didn’t want to be weird or rude to this nice man.
He smiles and gestures to a table next to a window. "Come, sit. I have many different types of tea, and some pastries. But you seem like you need a hearty meal, I can make some noodles for you. Do you like roast duck?"
He sets the broom away behind the counter, pulling out cups and a tea pot to set over a small burner.
"Ah, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Iroh, but most just call me Uncle nowadays."
Grace slid into the seat of the table the man had gestured to. Looking down at his arms at the comment he made of him needing a hearty meal, he let out a light laugh. Despite his best efforts, he still needed to heal a bit from the nutrient deficiency and starvation from a year-ish earlier.
“I’ve never had roast duck before. I’m willing to give it a try,” he smiled lightly. Something about the atmosphere here was putting him at ease. “Nice to meet you, Uncle Iroh,” he put the names together, just because it felt right to start off. “I’m Ryland Grace. Most people call me Grace, but either is fine.”
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grace." Iroh smiles as he lights the small burner for the water- no match, no lighter, no click of gas, just a sudden start of a tiny flame.
As the pot boils, he steps through a curtain into the back, returning with two bowls full of noodles and broth, slices of meat and steamed vegetables. He sets one of them in front of Grace with some chopsticks. "There is plenty more, should you want it." He adds.
"What sort of tea would you like? Or would you prefer a recommendation?"
At the odd way the fire was lit, Grace had opened his mouth to ask about it. The appearance of food on the table cut him off, the savory smell drawing his eyes down. It smelled amazing. Grace picked up the chopsticks, glad he had taught himself to use them to when he had ordered Chinese food a lot as a teacher.
“I don’t drink a lot of tea nowadays, so a recommendation would be good,” he smiled, carefully picking up some of the noodles and eating them. His eyes widened, and he spoke up after he swallowed. “This is amazing..! How…? Wow, I missed real flavor in food.”
Iroh beams. "Why thank you! It took me many years to learn to do it well. An old ship cook taught me."
He bustles about, preparing a small pot of tea and two cups. "I will make a rose hip tea for you. It is very tasty, and helps with joint pain."
Grace grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “The work definitely paid off,” he commended, serious but light.
His eyebrow raise in excitement and astonishment at the fact that tea could help with joint pain. It made sense, as medication was made from a lot of plants, but it sounded wonderful to have something ease the ache that also tasted good. “That sounds really good. Joint pain has been a pain in the butt these last few years,” he let out a light laugh. “Thank you so much.”
"Then I will send you home with some. It has been a great help to my old bones." He smiles, setting down the pot and a pair of cups.
"Would you care for some company? I enjoy sharing a bit of conversation with my customers when I can."
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” he smiled, then turning his eyes to the pot and cups. Nice old ceramics, it looked like.
“I’d love some company. I don’t get much of it from, well human people nowadays,” he shrugged. “I’m not quite sure how your tea shop just— showed up here, honestly. Magic or something.” He let out a light laugh.
"Hm, I cannot be sure. I know where my shop is, but I also know that, as of late, my door has opened to many places it should not. A blessing from the spirits, perhaps, that my door appears to those who need it."
He strokes his beard, deep in thought. "My shop currently resides near the city center of Ba Sing Se. But it sounds like this is not where you came in from?"
Grace hummed and nodded. “That makes sense. After the past few years, I wouldn’t put it past this universe to throw something newly supernatural my way,” he laughed lightly, bringing his tea close for a sip. Wow, it was good.
“Mm— no, I’ve never heard of that city,” he confirmed. “I am actually— well, was— on an alien planet before I stepped in here. Trillions of miles from Earth.”
"Earth, so our homes share the same planet. But perhaps, different versions. You could not have lived on my Earth without hearing about Ba Sing Se, even in the far reaches of the poles."
Iroh hums as he takes a sip. "How fascinating. I am not a man of science myself, but a close friend of my nephew is. I am sure he would have many things to say."
“…must be, if everything is so different,” Grace hummed in agreement, setting down his cup on the table delicately. “I’m sure he would, as a fellow person of science.”
“I’m a bit curious, actually, if our Earths are different, just… how they’re different,” he tried. “Like— you lit the fire for the tea without doing anything to spark it. How did you do that?”
Iroh does seem genuinely surprised by this. "Your Earth does not have benders?" He asks. As he does, he holds out a hand, a flame jumping to life in his palm. It dances calmly, under total control.
"Here, the world is split into four nations, and each with its own elemental power. There are people in each nation blessed with the ability to control and wield that element. While I currently live in the Earth Kingdom, I hail from the Fire Nation, and was born a firebender."
Grace’s jaw dropped at the little flame in Irish’s palm, and he tilted his head to look at it from different angles, not quite believing what he was seeing. It looked completely real, though. No trick of the light or anything.
“No, we… we don’t have benders,” he said, a bit distracted. “So, there are people all over your Earth who can just— pardon my wording— magic elements around like it’s another sense? That’s crazy. I assume it’s… fire, water, earth, and air? For the four nations?”
Iroh looks pleased. "Yes, very good. And hm, no, not like another sense. Though, I am aware of at least one earthbender who uses her bending to see, as she is blind."
"But while the ability to bend is something you are born with, it is a skill that must be trained and learned."
"It is said that each of the four bending nations learned from the natural world, and those traditions are passed down, refined, and built upon."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
He doesn't fight it. Hey, if this is hell, he's okay with that.
"How are you down here?" he mutters through mouthfuls of maybe the most flavorful thing he's tasted in his life.
Iroh begins to set up a pot to boil water over on the counter. There's a small spark of flame, but no match, no lighter.
"I am not sure what you mean by "down here"," He admits. "But I have found that my door opens to many places it shouldn't. Usually, my shop is in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se."
He gestures to the window, and outside of it is an incredibly massive city built of white stone. It goes on all the way to the horizon.
The sky is blue, and the sun is warm.
"The... the sun.." he whispers quietly. This isn't hell. How did he get here?
He realizes his eyes are damp, and quickly wipes them off before Iroh returns.
Iroh reaches for a container of tea, glances at the strange young man, and switches direction for a different one.
A few minutes later, he returns with the pot and two small clay cups.
"Lemon balm tea. It will help." He says softly, setting one of the cups in front of Simon.
What he does not say out loud is that it's a tea meant for anxiety and heart palpitations.
He sits across from him and pours them each a cup. "May I know your name, young name?"
"It's Simon." he mumbles.
"Thank you." He hasn't felt this safe in so long.
Iroh smiles gently at him. "It is nice to meet you, Simon. Please, stay as long as you'd like. I have plenty to share."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
He doesn't fight it. Hey, if this is hell, he's okay with that.
"How are you down here?" he mutters through mouthfuls of maybe the most flavorful thing he's tasted in his life.
Iroh begins to set up a pot to boil water over on the counter. There's a small spark of flame, but no match, no lighter.
"I am not sure what you mean by "down here"," He admits. "But I have found that my door opens to many places it shouldn't. Usually, my shop is in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se."
He gestures to the window, and outside of it is an incredibly massive city built of white stone. It goes on all the way to the horizon.
The sky is blue, and the sun is warm.
"The... the sun.." he whispers quietly. This isn't hell. How did he get here?
He realizes his eyes are damp, and quickly wipes them off before Iroh returns.
Iroh reaches for a container of tea, glances at the strange young man, and switches direction for a different one.
A few minutes later, he returns with the pot and two small clay cups.
"Lemon balm tea. It will help." He says softly, setting one of the cups in front of Simon.
What he does not say out loud is that it's a tea meant for anxiety and heart palpitations.
He sits across from him and pours them each a cup. "May I know your name, young name?"
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
He doesn't fight it. Hey, if this is hell, he's okay with that.
"How are you down here?" he mutters through mouthfuls of maybe the most flavorful thing he's tasted in his life.
Iroh begins to set up a pot to boil water over on the counter. There's a small spark of flame, but no match, no lighter.
"I am not sure what you mean by "down here"," He admits. "But I have found that my door opens to many places it shouldn't. Usually, my shop is in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se."
He gestures to the window, and outside of it is an incredibly massive city built of white stone. It goes on all the way to the horizon.
The sky is blue, and the sun is warm.
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
"I... I don't think so. I think I hit my head. Did you say noodles?"
He hasn't had noodles since he was very young, maybe four. He can barely remember his mother making them for him, and he remembers the vague feeling of warmth that comes with the memory, but that's it.
"Sit, you must sit." Iroh pulls a chair out and gently bullies Simon into sitting in it.
He moves one of the bowls, a spoon, and some chopsticks in front of Simon. "Eat. You look pale, and healing is easier on a full belly. I will make us some tea, something to help your head."
A new building has appeared just off the main road, tucked behind the larger, nicer stores, where it can only be found if you happened to look.
An old man with long grey hair and a beard hums a song as he sweeps his front step, dressed in simple green robes.
Sunlight shines off the sign hanging above the door.
The Jasmine Dragon.
( @oldgreydragon )
(OOC: 👀 An Avatar rp blog??? In the year of our lord 2026?! I'm intrigued)
"So remind me why you're dragging me out here?" Goji grumbled as they slipped down the busy streets, hands in his pockets as he followed Viper.
The younger blond glanced over his shoulder, tail flicking carefully as he shrugged, "To look around! See if anything else has popped up, y'know?"
"You do realize that whatever's going on here," He gestured to the both of them, "isn't exactly something we can help with right? Leon said as much!"
Viper bit his lip, a frustrated look in his eyes, "I-! I know okay? I just… I dunno, wanna feel like I'm doing something."
The older blond sighed, nodding in agreement at the sentiment. He'd honestly felt a bit useless too, ever since this all started.
Viper's ears twitched slightly, picking up on the humming nearby. He tilted his head like a dog before looking around, spotting the odd building. The smell of tea reached both of them, having an oddly calming effect.
The duo exchanged curious looks, walking over cautiously. They didn't want to scare the old man because of their uh - unique appearances.
The old man looks up as they approach, but doesn't appear to even blink at their unusual forms. Instead, he smiles, and sets his broom to the side.
"Ah, welcome! Welcome to my humble shop. Won't you come inside for a cup of tea?"
Viper glanced at his older self, the man shrugging before he replied, "Sure…?"
Both were taken aback by the man's… lack of reaction. Most normal people would at least stared at them, but he… didn't.
The old man beams with joy, looking more like a child who just realized they're at Disney than an old man offering to make a pot of tea.
"Excellent! Come, I will start the fire, please sit wherever you like."
He leads them inside, where several tables- some low for sitting on the floor cushions, others with chairs- fill the space. Warm sunlight streams through the windows and the whole place smells of tea.
The old man busies himself behind the counter, a spark of fire appearing without any kind of match or lighter to ignite the burner below the clay pot.
"Do you have a preference?" He asks, gesturing to the containers of tea lined up on the shelves. "I am partial to ginseng myself."
Goji blinked at the sudden ignition as they followed him; the kaiju gestalt knew he should be suspicious or on-edge, but something about the man felt… ernest, open and honest in a way he hadn't experienced in… fuck, probably years at this point.
So he put the oddity on the back burner - not forgotten, but not something to immediately worry about.
"I've… never really had tea before." He admitted honestly, "Never really thought of trying it in college or the police academy, and after… well, everything changed after." He winced, hoping the man didn't ask about it. Raccoon City was a gaping wound that never really closed - that was why he turned to alcohol so much.
The Jasmine Dragon felt… how did he describe it? Peaceful? Calming? Something about it - much like the old man himself - put him at ease. Him and Viper were careful as they entered, ducking under the door frame and keeping their tails as still as possible.
He noticed Viper looking embarrassed, huffing in amusement when he realized what the problem was. He ruffled the kid's hair, earning an indignant chirp - like a cicada or cricket - in response.
"Viper needs sugar in his - long story, but his body practically runs on the stuff."
The old man nods in understanding.
"Well, I am honored to guide you both into the wonderful world of tea. I already have an idea for you," his eyes crinkle in a smile at Viper. "I suspect you are very similar to another young man I know. But you, hm. What sort of flavors do you enjoy?" He asks, turning to Goji.
What sort of-? Goji wasn't sure how to answer that anymore.
"I'm… not sure," He admitted with a sigh, looking away in shame as he explained, "for a while I… didn't exactly have healthy drinking habits, if you know what I mean." He knew it was cowardly, not outright saying it, but it'd been hard to even admit he'd had a problem.
Viper shuffled closer to the older blond, nudging him as his tail curled around him legs comfortingly.
"If he's anything like I was before… everything," He winced, "he liked sweet and fruity stuff depending on the day."
He smiles and takes two small jars down from the shelf, going to prepare two kettles.
"I have just the thing. Something a bit stronger then, hm? More like my nephew's tastes."
He shoos them off as he works. "Go, sit, get comfortable. I'll bring it when it's ready."
The duo step away, Goji ruffling Viper's hair again in retaliation. The younger blond gave him an unrepentant grin, sticking his forked tongue out.
"This place is…" The mini-kaiju spoke in a low voice, glancing around as him and the ex-cop found a place to sit, "odd?"
Viper snorted, raising an eyebrow at the older man, "Like we have any room to talk?"
The pointed look made him wince, "Yeah, fair I guess."
Taking a seat was a process, since the place obviously didn't have accommodations for people like them, but they managed well enough.
The old man returns some minutes later with a tray laden with cups and tea pots and a small plate of pastries.
"Here we are- this is an assam black tea, I suspect you'll like it best in the nomadic tradition, with a bit of milk and rock sugar." He says to Viper, setting out a small pitcher of milk and a dish full of amber crystals.
"And for you, a rooibos tea with some honey." He sets the other pot in front of Goji, with a small jar of honey and a little spoon.
Viper sniffed at the assortment as he grabbed his cup, tongue flicking out before he could stop it. Foxtrot chirped curiously at the scent, having never smelled something like it before.
Goji rolled his eyes at the younger man, "Thanks Mr - uh," He suddenly realized he hadn't caught the man's name, "…What's your name?"
"My name is Iroh. Most people call me Uncle these days." He says with a chuckle.
"May I ask your names?"
Goji nodded at the man - at Iroh - before wincing, "Technically me and him," He gestured to Viper, who was listening curiously, "share the same name. So we've been calling each other by nicknames; and because my roommates are assholes-"
Viper snickered unrepentantly.
"-I got stuck with Goji."
The parasitized blond grinned, taking a sip of his tea before adding, "Call me Viper - none of us were very creative."
Iroh was weirdly easy to talk to, which wasn't exactly common for either of them since their mutations.
Iroh laughs lightly, but not meanly. "Something in common with one of my nephew's friends- he is a good man, and incredibly smart- until you ask him to name something."
His smile is genuine as he says, "It is a pleasure to meet you both, Goji and Viper."
"Nice to meet you too." The Infected blond replied, before asking curiously, "You have a nephew?"
The kaiju gestalt let out a long-suffering sigh, thanking whatever god was out there that they hadn't thought of anything worse than his current nickname. He didn't think he'd ever be able to live it down.
Iroh beams proudly and pulls out a small sketch of a young man with long dark hair, and a long healed burn scar across one side of his face. "Yes, Zuko! I am very proud of him. He's become such a wonderful young man."
Goji whistled at the sight of the scar, it might've been the worst burn wound he'd ever seen - at least that someone had survived. Although… looking closer at it - despite the picture only being a drawing - he could tell that the scar had been there for a while. Not to mention how… deliberate the injury seemed.
"He seems like a nice guy," Viper commented, not noticing Goji's examination.
Did someone… do this to the kid? The mere thought made his blood boil.
Iroh nods. "He had his rough patches, but what teenager doesn't? He has grown into a fine man, and I couldn't be prouder."
"Did-" Goji hated asking, especially with how hospitable Iroh was, but he needed to know (needed to know who to kill for hurting a child), "Who did this to him?"
He tapped the picture of Zuko, claws audibly clicking against the wood of the table, "And don't say it was an accident - I've seen enough burn injuries to know when something's done deliberately."
Viper blinked at the older blond, looking at the drawing again before his eyes widened.
Iroh's face becomes shadowed. There's a rage in his eyes that ill suits the otherwise joyful and pleasant demeanor.
"A punishment from his father. For speaking out of turn."
"A fucking-!" Goji looked furious, not at Iroh of course, but at this mysterious "father" of Zuko's, "That's not a goddamn punishment, that's a fucking maiming!"
His rage wasn't just that of a concerned bystander, no his came from another place as well. He was technically a father himself, and the thought of anyone doing this to their own child filled him with anger.
It made him think about Rex, a recent addition to his odd little family. The poor kid had been tortured and mutated, partially warped into something monstrous all because of human greed.
Goji burned the lab to the ground after saving him, to put it lightly.
Viper was doing his best to keep himself calm, though it was obvious he felt the same way. He managed to get out a slightly strangled, "Please tell me he's been dealt with" before having to shut up and put a clamp on his and Foxtrot's fury.
"My brother was never a kind man. And Zuko was never his favored child. Zuko was too kind, too gentle, too much like his mother." He shakes his head in sorrow. "We were at war. Zuko spoke out against a plan to send a battalion of fresh recruits to their death, using men as bait. His father publicly burned and banished him for his disrespect."
His face hardens. "Yes, he has been dealt with. He rots, even now, with all his power stripped away."
"Good." The mini-kaiju hissed, dorsal plates flashing blue briefly, "Fucker deserves it."
He sighed as his posture relaxed, most of his anger dissipating, "I'm a dad too - fuck I adopted an abused kid. I just… can't imagine why someone would do that."
"If Annette were here she'd probably have a guess," Viper shrugged, red bleeding into his eyes as he tried to calm Foxtrot down.
"I can assure you, you would be hard pressed to be a worse father than my brother was to his children. I cannot help but blame myself. Ozai is my younger brother, and sometimes I wonder if I had done better at shielding him from our own father, he would not have been the way he was."
He sighs and shakes his head. "But then I remind myself that until my own son passed, I was of- if not as bad- a similarly war-guided mind."
Goji winced, "You don't realize how bad something is until it slaps you in the face; my condolences."
Viper drank some of his tea to help calm himself, voicing his own condolences as well.
He sighs and shakes off the old grief. "Your concerns are appreciated. It has been many years, but it does not stop hurting."
"All I can do now is live as best I can, and know I will see him when I pass into the next life."
Goji winced, feeling like an ass for bringing up old demons.
"Well…" He started, getting an idea, "since we blundered into something touchy… it's only fair we let you ask some stuff."
Viper nodded in agreement, the red in his eyes finally dissipated, "Yeah - sorry about bringing… that up by the way."
He shakes his head. "I am happy to speak about those I have lost. It helps keep the memories fresh in this old mind."
"Though I must admit I am curious as to how you two came to be this way."
"I'm not surprised," The older blond chuckled, "everyone we meet is."
He glanced over at Viper, raising an eyebrow as he asked, "You wanna start? Yours is probably easier to explain."
The parasitized blond blinked in surprise, "O-Oh sure!"
"Guess we should start with the basics: you know about the Raccoon City Incident right?"
Iroh shakes his head. "I have never heard of such a city, nor any incident involving one. Is that in the Earth Kingdom? I would know of it if it were in the Fire Nation, and it does not match the naming conventions of the Water Tribes."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
"I.." Simon's now acutely aware of the blood he's getting all over the floor. His feet feel rooted in place, he's not sure what to do with himself.
"What's... that?"
Iroh very slowly, very gently, moves to Simon's side and starts to guide him to a chair.
"The noodles? It is roast duck, with bok choy. Are you injured? I have a friend who is a talented healer, I can bring her here."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
Simon looks around in shock, staring at the windows. He's never seen windows look... warm. Like he could touch them and they would feel hot. A small part of him wants to try it.
The smell is what hits him next. Something smells good. His mouth begins to water and he's not sure why. He can't place the smell.
He realizes he's staring, and clears his throat.
"The Jas... what?"
Iroh's brow furrows in concern. "Young man, are you alright? Come, sit and eat. You will feel better with your stomach full."
"You are in the Jasmine Dragon. It is my tea shop, though I sometimes also serve food on quieter days. I am an old man, and cannot keep up with a lot of bustle," he chuckles.
His voice is easy and light, soothing. He gestures to the table that he set the tray down on. "Won't you join me? I can make a pot of tea for us as well."
There's a door in the sub.
It's painted green, decorated with simple carvings from a culture Simon doesn't recognize. It's not Eden. It's definitely not COI. It's made of wood.
It wasn't there before.
There's a sign hanging on it.
The Jasmine Dragon
@oldgreydragon
Why the hell would they make it out of wood? Trees are extremely endangered, who in their right minds would slaughter one for this, instead of using steel or some other easy-access metal??
Simon goes to investigate, nudging the door with his foot first.
The door isn't latched, and swings open easily.
Inside is... Not possible. On so many levels, it's simply incoherent with Simon's current reality.
The inside is a large room, everything in soft shades of green and brown and yellow. The floor is made of some sort of reeds, the tables and chairs are wood and lacquer, the windows- there's windows. Windows with warm yellow light streaming through and spilling across the floor, lighting up the dancing dust motes in the air.
It almost looks like sunlight.
At the back of the room is a counter- more wood- and behind it is a curtain leading to another room. A man emerges, plump and short and with long grey hair and a longer greyer beard, humming to himself as he brings out a tray. The tray holds two bowls of something that smells divine. A soup with noodles and meat and vegetables- things that hadn't been seen since before the Quiet Rapture, things long since replaced by flavorless and dusty nutrient blocks.
He sets the tray down and looks up at Simon with a smile. "Ah, hello. Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! I am Iroh, though most call me Uncle these days."
There's a door where there wasn't one before. Vaguely East Asian in style, simple with only a bit of ornamentation.
From it, the warm smell of fresh brewed tea floats on the air.
There's a sign on the door, carved by hand.
The Jasmine Dragon
( @oldgreydragon )
Confused, Grace stares at the door for a long moment. He could have sworn that door wasn’t there a couple seconds ago— and it was made of wood. There wasn’t any wood here, other than some small pieces.
Cautious, but admittedly curious, Grace stepped over to the door and opened it. The warm smell of tea wafted inside. After years of just eating what was available and had nutrients, the thought of tea made his mouth water.
“Uh— hello?” He called, peeking his head inside, glasses low on his nose.
An old man in green robes is sweeping the floor of a tea shop. Warm sunlight streams through the windows, and the space is filled with the smell of tea and sweet pastries.
He looks up when Grace opens the door and smiles. "Ah, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, my friend. Come in, come in, have a seat. What can I get for you?"
Grace glanced behind him into his house, then back into the tea shop, checking that he wasn’t just seeing things. Once he was sure of himself, he nodded a bit, pushing up his glasses and straightening, taking a step inside.
“I… uh— alright,” he stuttered out, “I don’t know. What, uh— what do you have?” Grace shuffled inside, looking around at the glow of the windows in slight confusion as he tried to find the best place to sit. He didn’t want to be weird or rude to this nice man.
He smiles and gestures to a table next to a window. "Come, sit. I have many different types of tea, and some pastries. But you seem like you need a hearty meal, I can make some noodles for you. Do you like roast duck?"
He sets the broom away behind the counter, pulling out cups and a tea pot to set over a small burner.
"Ah, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Iroh, but most just call me Uncle nowadays."
Grace slid into the seat of the table the man had gestured to. Looking down at his arms at the comment he made of him needing a hearty meal, he let out a light laugh. Despite his best efforts, he still needed to heal a bit from the nutrient deficiency and starvation from a year-ish earlier.
“I’ve never had roast duck before. I’m willing to give it a try,” he smiled lightly. Something about the atmosphere here was putting him at ease. “Nice to meet you, Uncle Iroh,” he put the names together, just because it felt right to start off. “I’m Ryland Grace. Most people call me Grace, but either is fine.”
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grace." Iroh smiles as he lights the small burner for the water- no match, no lighter, no click of gas, just a sudden start of a tiny flame.
As the pot boils, he steps through a curtain into the back, returning with two bowls full of noodles and broth, slices of meat and steamed vegetables. He sets one of them in front of Grace with some chopsticks. "There is plenty more, should you want it." He adds.
"What sort of tea would you like? Or would you prefer a recommendation?"
At the odd way the fire was lit, Grace had opened his mouth to ask about it. The appearance of food on the table cut him off, the savory smell drawing his eyes down. It smelled amazing. Grace picked up the chopsticks, glad he had taught himself to use them to when he had ordered Chinese food a lot as a teacher.
“I don’t drink a lot of tea nowadays, so a recommendation would be good,” he smiled, carefully picking up some of the noodles and eating them. His eyes widened, and he spoke up after he swallowed. “This is amazing..! How…? Wow, I missed real flavor in food.”
Iroh beams. "Why thank you! It took me many years to learn to do it well. An old ship cook taught me."
He bustles about, preparing a small pot of tea and two cups. "I will make a rose hip tea for you. It is very tasty, and helps with joint pain."
Grace grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “The work definitely paid off,” he commended, serious but light.
His eyebrow raise in excitement and astonishment at the fact that tea could help with joint pain. It made sense, as medication was made from a lot of plants, but it sounded wonderful to have something ease the ache that also tasted good. “That sounds really good. Joint pain has been a pain in the butt these last few years,” he let out a light laugh. “Thank you so much.”
"Then I will send you home with some. It has been a great help to my old bones." He smiles, setting down the pot and a pair of cups.
"Would you care for some company? I enjoy sharing a bit of conversation with my customers when I can."
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” he smiled, then turning his eyes to the pot and cups. Nice old ceramics, it looked like.
“I’d love some company. I don’t get much of it from, well human people nowadays,” he shrugged. “I’m not quite sure how your tea shop just— showed up here, honestly. Magic or something.” He let out a light laugh.
"Hm, I cannot be sure. I know where my shop is, but I also know that, as of late, my door has opened to many places it should not. A blessing from the spirits, perhaps, that my door appears to those who need it."
He strokes his beard, deep in thought. "My shop currently resides near the city center of Ba Sing Se. But it sounds like this is not where you came in from?"
Grace hummed and nodded. “That makes sense. After the past few years, I wouldn’t put it past this universe to throw something newly supernatural my way,” he laughed lightly, bringing his tea close for a sip. Wow, it was good.
“Mm— no, I’ve never heard of that city,” he confirmed. “I am actually— well, was— on an alien planet before I stepped in here. Trillions of miles from Earth.”
"Earth, so our homes share the same planet. But perhaps, different versions. You could not have lived on my Earth without hearing about Ba Sing Se, even in the far reaches of the poles."
Iroh hums as he takes a sip. "How fascinating. I am not a man of science myself, but a close friend of my nephew is. I am sure he would have many things to say."
“…must be, if everything is so different,” Grace hummed in agreement, setting down his cup on the table delicately. “I’m sure he would, as a fellow person of science.”
“I’m a bit curious, actually, if our Earths are different, just… how they’re different,” he tried. “Like— you lit the fire for the tea without doing anything to spark it. How did you do that?”
Iroh does seem genuinely surprised by this. "Your Earth does not have benders?" He asks. As he does, he holds out a hand, a flame jumping to life in his palm. It dances calmly, under total control.
"Here, the world is split into four nations, and each with its own elemental power. There are people in each nation blessed with the ability to control and wield that element. While I currently live in the Earth Kingdom, I hail from the Fire Nation, and was born a firebender."
There's a door where there wasn't one before. Vaguely East Asian in style, simple with only a bit of ornamentation.
From it, the warm smell of fresh brewed tea floats on the air.
There's a sign on the door, carved by hand.
The Jasmine Dragon
( @oldgreydragon )
Confused, Grace stares at the door for a long moment. He could have sworn that door wasn’t there a couple seconds ago— and it was made of wood. There wasn’t any wood here, other than some small pieces.
Cautious, but admittedly curious, Grace stepped over to the door and opened it. The warm smell of tea wafted inside. After years of just eating what was available and had nutrients, the thought of tea made his mouth water.
“Uh— hello?” He called, peeking his head inside, glasses low on his nose.
An old man in green robes is sweeping the floor of a tea shop. Warm sunlight streams through the windows, and the space is filled with the smell of tea and sweet pastries.
He looks up when Grace opens the door and smiles. "Ah, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, my friend. Come in, come in, have a seat. What can I get for you?"
Grace glanced behind him into his house, then back into the tea shop, checking that he wasn’t just seeing things. Once he was sure of himself, he nodded a bit, pushing up his glasses and straightening, taking a step inside.
“I… uh— alright,” he stuttered out, “I don’t know. What, uh— what do you have?” Grace shuffled inside, looking around at the glow of the windows in slight confusion as he tried to find the best place to sit. He didn’t want to be weird or rude to this nice man.
He smiles and gestures to a table next to a window. "Come, sit. I have many different types of tea, and some pastries. But you seem like you need a hearty meal, I can make some noodles for you. Do you like roast duck?"
He sets the broom away behind the counter, pulling out cups and a tea pot to set over a small burner.
"Ah, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Iroh, but most just call me Uncle nowadays."
Grace slid into the seat of the table the man had gestured to. Looking down at his arms at the comment he made of him needing a hearty meal, he let out a light laugh. Despite his best efforts, he still needed to heal a bit from the nutrient deficiency and starvation from a year-ish earlier.
“I’ve never had roast duck before. I’m willing to give it a try,” he smiled lightly. Something about the atmosphere here was putting him at ease. “Nice to meet you, Uncle Iroh,” he put the names together, just because it felt right to start off. “I’m Ryland Grace. Most people call me Grace, but either is fine.”
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Grace." Iroh smiles as he lights the small burner for the water- no match, no lighter, no click of gas, just a sudden start of a tiny flame.
As the pot boils, he steps through a curtain into the back, returning with two bowls full of noodles and broth, slices of meat and steamed vegetables. He sets one of them in front of Grace with some chopsticks. "There is plenty more, should you want it." He adds.
"What sort of tea would you like? Or would you prefer a recommendation?"
At the odd way the fire was lit, Grace had opened his mouth to ask about it. The appearance of food on the table cut him off, the savory smell drawing his eyes down. It smelled amazing. Grace picked up the chopsticks, glad he had taught himself to use them to when he had ordered Chinese food a lot as a teacher.
“I don’t drink a lot of tea nowadays, so a recommendation would be good,” he smiled, carefully picking up some of the noodles and eating them. His eyes widened, and he spoke up after he swallowed. “This is amazing..! How…? Wow, I missed real flavor in food.”
Iroh beams. "Why thank you! It took me many years to learn to do it well. An old ship cook taught me."
He bustles about, preparing a small pot of tea and two cups. "I will make a rose hip tea for you. It is very tasty, and helps with joint pain."
Grace grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “The work definitely paid off,” he commended, serious but light.
His eyebrow raise in excitement and astonishment at the fact that tea could help with joint pain. It made sense, as medication was made from a lot of plants, but it sounded wonderful to have something ease the ache that also tasted good. “That sounds really good. Joint pain has been a pain in the butt these last few years,” he let out a light laugh. “Thank you so much.”
"Then I will send you home with some. It has been a great help to my old bones." He smiles, setting down the pot and a pair of cups.
"Would you care for some company? I enjoy sharing a bit of conversation with my customers when I can."
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” he smiled, then turning his eyes to the pot and cups. Nice old ceramics, it looked like.
“I’d love some company. I don’t get much of it from, well human people nowadays,” he shrugged. “I’m not quite sure how your tea shop just— showed up here, honestly. Magic or something.” He let out a light laugh.
"Hm, I cannot be sure. I know where my shop is, but I also know that, as of late, my door has opened to many places it should not. A blessing from the spirits, perhaps, that my door appears to those who need it."
He strokes his beard, deep in thought. "My shop currently resides near the city center of Ba Sing Se. But it sounds like this is not where you came in from?"
Grace hummed and nodded. “That makes sense. After the past few years, I wouldn’t put it past this universe to throw something newly supernatural my way,” he laughed lightly, bringing his tea close for a sip. Wow, it was good.
“Mm— no, I’ve never heard of that city,” he confirmed. “I am actually— well, was— on an alien planet before I stepped in here. Trillions of miles from Earth.”
"Earth, so our homes share the same planet. But perhaps, different versions. You could not have lived on my Earth without hearing about Ba Sing Se, even in the far reaches of the poles."
Iroh hums as he takes a sip. "How fascinating. I am not a man of science myself, but a close friend of my nephew is. I am sure he would have many things to say."
A new building has appeared just off the main road, tucked behind the larger, nicer stores, where it can only be found if you happened to look.
An old man with long grey hair and a beard hums a song as he sweeps his front step, dressed in simple green robes.
Sunlight shines off the sign hanging above the door.
The Jasmine Dragon.
( @oldgreydragon )
Arias was minding his business, taking a walk through the stores just to see what he could find when he spots it, a glinting sign hanging off a building that had seemingly been erected overnight.
he turns, spotting an old man in strange green robes sweeping the steps. Arias walks up, paws folded behind his head, tail swishing behind him.
hey. i haven’t seen you - or this building, for that matter - around here before. who are you, and what is this place
The man smiles kindly at Arias, setting his broom aside to give him a polite bow.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am Iroh, but these days, most people call me Uncle." He straightens, his eyes twinkling with joy.
"Welcome to my humble tea shop, the Jasmine Dragon."
oh! um.. nice to meet you as well, Uncle.
Arias bows back, albeit a bit unsure as his tall ears press flat against his head.
this is a very nice tea shop you have here
he says, following the older man inside. Arias looks around at, well, everything. he’s never seen a place like this before. it was beautiful, and he had spent a lot of time out in nature
"Ah, your words warm an old man's heart. Thank you." He smiles warmly.
"Come, sit. May I offer you a cup?" Iroh asks as he lights a fire below a pot of water, too quickly or smoothly for a match or lighter.
uh, you’re welcome.
Arias sits, tucking his legs under himself as he wraps his massive tail around himself twice to get it out of the way
ah, thank you. that would be nice, it’s been a while since i’ve had a good cup
he tracks the man’s movement with his eyes, furrowing his brow as he watches fire seemingly appear from his hands
As the pot of water boils, Iroh sets about preparing the tea and cups.
"Do you have a preference?" He asks as he reaches for the canisters. "I am partial to ginseng, myself."
catnip, if you have it. but i’m willing to have whatever you make
Arias has a feeling this will take a while, so he leans forward, setting himself even further. it was something about the man; he had a comforting aura
Iroh chuckles and plucks down the container his hand was hovering over.
"I had a feeling, but I did not wish to be rude in my assumption," he admits. "An excellent choice, very good for the body."
He takes a few minutes to finish brewing the tea, before bringing the tray to the table and sitting across from Arias.
"Forgive me, I do not believe I got your name?"
i’m glad you approved of my taste. and don’t worry too much about assumptions, i’m every bit predictable as you think me to be
Arias lifts a paw to grab the tea, struggling a bit with his missing finger
Arias. my name is Arias, but you can call me Ari
"Oh, I do not believe anyone is as predictable as others think. People can often surprise you."
He does frown slightly and tilt his head. "Hm, would a different cup be easier for you? I have others."
Arias shakes his head, waving Iroh off
no, it’s alright, i’ll manage.
he laughs a bit bitterly, bowing his head, listening to the man speak
you are right, i have met some surprising people. but most of them are exactly who you think them to be
Iroh hums in thought, but makes a note regardless. He knows a few people he could ask for new cups.
"Hm, I have found the opposite is more often true. Many people present many faces, and this is not a bad thing. But anyone can surprise you."
He pours a cup for himself as well, taking a sip. "Though many also choose not to."
ha, don’t i know it.
Arias takes a swig, drinking it in a way that is very much so not typical for tea
i mean, who knew Mr. Zeno and Dr. Gideon could be kind? hell, who knew boys could get pregnant? i didn’t even know us B.O.W.s were fertile, but i guess anything can happen in the hands of Umbrella
Iroh takes a careful, slow sip.
"You seem to have lived a very interesting life," he says politely. "But I am glad that you have kind people around you, even those who are kind unexpectedly."
He pauses, like he's trying to find the best way to broach the subject. Delicately, he asks, "are... You currently with child? I would not normally ask, but I would not wish to serve you something harmful by accident."
oh yeah. i mean, nearly two decades in the labs before escaping and being on the run from the most dangerous conglomerate on the planet as one of their pet projects tends to lead to a bit of a crazy life.
he shrugs, taking a sip. usually, he would be a lot more closed off than this, but something about the man, he seems trustworthy.
as he continues to listen to the man speak, Arias has to try his hardest to not spit his tea everywhere was he busts out laughing
me? no, no, god no. can you imagen that? me? pregnant? no, no, my boyfriend’s the pregnant one. well, i guess he’s my fiancé now, but my point still stands, he’s the one pregnant with my child
Iroh laughs as well at his own mistake. "And this is why I do not make assumptions- I am usually wrong." He smiles.
"But still, it sounds as though congratulations are in order. For you and your fiance."
oh, no, it’s completely alright. i hadn’t even mentioned him, surprisingly.
Arias chuckles fondly
and thank you. we’re really excited. it was, a complete accident, truth be told, but we’re really, really happy it happened
He beams, and gets up to head behind the counter, digging something up from the shelves below, before returning with a small box.
"A gift for your partner. Something I'll suspect he'll need in the coming months."
He says as he sits back down and passes it over to Arias.
"This ginger tea was the only kind my wife would accept when she was pregnant with our son. Said that nothing else would work for her morning sickness."
oh, thank you. nothing’s worked for his morning sickness yet. it kinda hurts to see his unnecessary suffering
Arias says quietly, tucking the small box into his pocket
He nods in understanding. "My wife was miserable those first few months, I hated to see her in such pain. But we would not have traded our son for the world," he says, turning to the sketch of a young man and an older woman hanging on the wall. Below the sketch, on a small shelf, was a shrine with incense.
he tracks the man’s movement with his eyes, gaze landing on beautiful sketch of who he could only assume to be Iroh’s family.
you have a very nice family, Uncle. ..y’know, i’m really glad that i stumbled upon one of my own. never thought that would be the kind thing a guy like me could manage
"Yes, I do." Iroh's eyes are far away, but he returns quickly enough.
"Family is one of the greatest blessings a person can receive. I am happy to hear yours is growing. Even unexpectedly." He smiles brightly. "It is a wonderful thing."
yeah.. it- it really is.
Arias chuckles fondly, taking another sip of his tea
we man not be the most.. conventional lot, but i love ‘em all the same. not like i was the nicest to them when we first met, and yet they still accepted me with open arms. sometimes i wonder why, but i’m just happy things panned out the way they did
"My nephew was much the same with his friends. They are close enough to be family now, but when they first met..." He laughs, "ah, it was not a happy few months, certainly."
well, he couldn’t have been much worse than i was. i broke into their house and got held at gun point and still continued to insult them, my being there putting them in irreparable danger, yet they still adopted me. and they fully had no reason to; i threatened them verbally, among other things. not to mention my drug issue and the sheer amount of Umbrella workers that get thrown my way daily; it’s becoming a pain in my ass to kill them all
he sighs, resting his chin on his wrist
you think that’s bad, you should hear how i met Aku. ha, he broke into my house and asked to pet me, then named me after i cussed him out and tried to kill him. ..looking back, i think those were poor attempts at his flirting, but none of that really matters now. crazy how things turn out, eh?
Iroh chuckles. "I admit, my nephew never knowingly took a life. Tried, sometimes, but was often rebuffed. But, sometimes life drives us to hard choices. It is good to hear that you are happy now, and that things worked out with your family and beloved."
that’s good, nobody should be driven so far as to take a life, let alone multiple.
Arias sets his empty cup down
yeah, it is. this is the happiest i’ve ever been. i mean, i haven’t had many happy times until recently, but still.
He picks up the teapot to give them both a refill.
"To have a life full of joy is the best goal one can have. And I am sure you will have many more moments of happiness."
Iroh smiles warmly. "You will have to bring your young man with you next time. I would be honored to meet him."
