♙ ❝ One of the privileges of running a tea sho-P. ❞

[teashop]

CHARACTERS: Hatter & YOU.
LOCATION: O2 garden, level ( 2. )
WARNINGS: TBA, if any!
SUMMARY: Tea. And possible horse-riding.
NOTES: In conjunction with this post!

[ The tea 'house' isn't much to look at, at least not yet, but it's green and inviting and homely, at least. There are stolen kitchen chairs, tables, and rec room couches strewn across the soft grass in the corner of one of the oxygen garden's levels, and a thick leafy canopy shielding the area from the artificial lights. A bank of other such stolen kitchen materials is wedged in between two trees and the wall; it'd taken some maneuvering to get the electronic components to hook together, but there's an electric kettle on the makeshift counter, and on the makeshift counter is a small paper specifying what kinds of teas can be made. (Next to that is a clipboard and a pen he'd lifted from engineering and one of the rec rooms, respectively, with a sign-in sheet, just for kicks.) On appropriated shelves are a row of large glass jars with the dried teas inside, labeled helpfully.

Hatter's stretched out on one of the couches with one hand hooked in a cup of jasmine tea and the other cradling his communicator; the ad's out, and Guinevere grazes in a corner, with her tack off to the side. With any luck, he'll be serving today—and if not, a little conversation wouldn't go amiss. Especially after that bloody sickness mess. If the ship's going to hell in a handbasket, Hatter's going to drink some tea before it does. ]

Comments

[hisfinestact]

[ Jaime comes upon the tea house by accident rather than design, an unexpected interruption in what was meant to be an afternoon walk.

The garden isn't much like the forests back home. Even Jaime, who is not a maester and never had Tyrion's affection for learning things from books, can tell that with just his eyes. But it is also the only part of the entire ship that looks like it almost could be and after days of sickness and fever, Jaime finds that almost as much a comfort as the ability to get out of bed is.

When he realizes he's stumbled upon an area in which chairs and other bits and pieces have been strewn about, he considers turning away and finding a different path. He's stopped, though, by soft and very familiar animal sound. It's enough to pull him forward, pushing through the last bit of brush with his good hand, and into the tea house corner where he's able to confirm that he had heard what he thought he'd heard. ]

So you're the one with the horse, [ he says by way of greeting. Formalities and manners have always held as much interest for Jaime as books. ]

[teashop]

[ Hatter's head snaps up at the familiar voice, and, after a pause, the also-familiar face from the video conversation (well, voice, in his case) punches its way back to the forefront of his mind. This had been the man from Alayne's world, and Ros', the, er, the... knight. First one Hatter's seen in a while who hasn't been off his rocker—well, traditionally, not sure about him one way or the other—and it's nice, oddly, to speak again to someone he's spoken to before, especially since he's mostly kept to himself since selling those special teas.

His eyebrows go up as his eyes flick to Jaime's hand, the golden one. And then back up again, pointedly not mentioning it; he offers a grin as he sets aside his tea. ]

That'd be me.

And you're... [ . . . ]

J... ?

[ Right. What was it? He purses his lips, squinting hard at Jaime, willing his memory to work. Not good with names, this one. ] Jake. Jim. Johnny.

[hisfinestact]

[ Being unknown in this world is still novel enough that it's neither pleasing nor aggravating yet for Jaime. Back home, he'd had to shave his head and grow a beard to prevent strangers from knowing Jaime Lannister on sight. And even then, it hadn't worked quite as he might have hoped.

It occurs to him that had he been evading the Stark boy's army here and not back in the Riverlands, he might still have his hand. The thought makes a rueful smile tug at the corner of his mouth, so Jaime turns his attention back to the man and his horse. ]

Very close. Jaime, [ he provides. ] I'd give you something to rhyme it with to help your memory, but there isn't much to choose from.

[teashop]

Jaime. [ Tune of: right. He shifts forward, leaning on his thighs with his elbows, still looking up. His face scrunches up in a parody of distaste, like rhyming anything with Jaime might only end in blood and tears; then it's gone, replaced with something approximating a welcoming expression. He sets his cup aside and gets to his feet. ]

Well, Jaime, yeah—this is my horse. [ He nods at Guinevere. ] And this, [ he sweeps a hand across the air, ] is the sorriest excuse for a tea house I've ever managed, but I'd be willing to offer you a drink anyway, out of the goodness of my heart. Do you—? [ Drink tea? ]

[hisfinestact]

[ Jaime raises his chin and looks over the "tea shop" once again, trying to see it now in the context of what it's meant to be not simply what it appears to be. A tea shop. All right. He may privately agree with Hatter's assessment that it's a sorry excuse for one, but he can see it now nonetheless. ]

Not often, but when it's what is being offered... [ He raises an eyebrow, a silent Was that an offer? ]

[statsraaden]

[Stats comes with a cup he's stolen in the kitchen. He signs on the sheet and goes to the counter.]

Hello. I'll be trying everything. [There's a hint of jest in his voice, although he's totally serious about it.]

[teashop]

Everything? [ Hatter's eyebrows go up, but he's not about to turn down a potential customer. Well, not potential: actual. ] Right. Let's start you off on something a little less... expansive.

[ He turns with a small flourish, examines the jars, plucks one off the haphazard shelf. ] Plain green, for now. How's that sound?

[syllogism]

[Dirk had seen the advertisement of a tea party on the network and decided that sure, he'd bite. He's got nothing else to do, and there's always lots of time to kill. Besides, this is the guy with a horse, right? So why not pop on by and see what's going on?

Once he arrives, he scans the room and notes the various arrangements here and there when his eyes finally fall upon the most wonderful of all things.

That's... Guinevere, he thinks with a slow exhale because holy shit, that's a real horse. He's stopped in his tracks and needs time to take in the sudden surge of overwhelming joy at the precious, most glorious sight of a real live horse. While she isn't Rainbow Dash, she still is a truly most magnificent sight.

Then, Dirk suddenly remembers his place and tries to step aside cause he easily might be standing in the way. And now he's feeling ambivalent as a part of him wants so badly to approach this horse while another is hesitant and inexplicably fearful that she'll disappear without warning.]

[teashop]

[ Hatter watches the guy staring at his horse, his facial features warring for either most dubious or most amused expression of the year. He hasn't moved from the couch, and isn't about to, having kicked back with his heels on an appropriated coffee table, but his eyes flick back and forth from Guinevere to the young man in question. (She snorts and flicks her tail and eat more. Typical.)

He clears his throat pointedly. ] Can I help you with something?

[syllogism]

[As if taken slightly off-guard, he steps back and bristles slightly. Composing himself, he smirks and turns to regard the man on the couch.]

Hey--Hatter, right? I saw your invitation. Looks like you've got a nice setup here.

[Guinevere can wait, he thinks while trying to maintain shielded eye contact with the man rather than return his gaze to the creature.]

[handelaar]

[It's only after he sends his text that he bothers checking the directions given, only to find that all he has to do is walk up a floor. Level. Whatever space-savvy people called up in the Oxygen Gardens. So he finishes up his self-appointed task of checking this plot's PH level (normal, like the rest) and winds his way up, over. To that corner. The corner he assumed someone was slowly moving into.

Only to find...

Well. The guy looked like the personification of a naive tourist's idea of a coffee shop.]

So this is your shit.

[teashop]

[ Hatter, having gotten up to move around a bit, is behind the counter—well, he says counter—this time, and looks up. He spreads his hands and leans on them, quirking a brow at the opening statement. ]

Yep, [ he says, matter-of-factly. After a pause to look him up and down, Hatter squints. Nope. No face coming to mind. He figures it's safest to ask: ] What can I do for you?

[handelaar]

[Finished with eyeing the guy himself, Netherlands walks up to the counter, digs out his communicator, and flashes their brief conversation - all while eyeing everything behind the counter and weighing it up.

His hand stays perched in the air as he speaks. With his jumpsuit sleeves rolled up, his crew number is in plain sight and he lets it (and the communicator) cover half of the introductions.]

Netherlands. [With that, his gaze snaps down to meet the other's and he shoves his left hand into his pocket, only to hold out his right.] I work here. [A jerk of his head to one side, out, meaning here in the gardens.]

[verylittlesugar]

[ Mattie isn't really interested in tea, but since deciding to camp in the Oxygen Garden, she's become pretty aware of what's tucked away here and there. And a tea shop is a fairly intriguing sort of thing to find. It's really the presence of the mare that seals the deal for her, however, that and the fact that coffee had been mentioned on the network post advertising the place.

It's the horse she approaches first, one eye on the man on the couch. ]

She is a beauty. Did she come with you from home?

[teashop]

[ Hatter finishes his sip, looks up over the brim. Without setting the cup down, he nods slowly. (A lot of questions about the horse. He honestly shouldn't be surprised, but apparently, horses in space... garnered some attention.) ]

Found her wandering about when I came here. A friend gave her to me, before... well, y'know. Before. [ It's funny how much more easily he finds it to use the word 'friend' around here.

Oh, right. Small talk. He leans forward a bit. ] Did you own one?

[oyster]

[ And just as promised, Alice comes walking into the shop about two minutes after she ends the feed. Her eyes scan the area for a moment before landing on Hatter, eyebrow lifting slightly, though it's more of an amused gesture than anything. ] Why do I feel like I'm suddenly back in Wonderland?

[teashop]

[ Unlike the others, he gets (almost immediately) to his feet when Alice wanders into view, pushing the cup and saucer across the coffee table. (He'd been finishing it anyway, and there's only so much tea you can drink before you feel like your heart's about to rabbit out of your chest.)

He matches her eyebrow lift, a briefly smug expression flitting across his face—only to be replaced with something like nostalgia. It isn't precisely wisftul—god knows he's not a huge fan of Wonderland, even if it is (was) his home—but it had been nice owning something there, a plot of land, a business, something familiar. He can call this his own, even if it's not even half up to par to his own standards. ]

Not even gonna dignify that with an answer. [ Which means probably because I made it that way, but either way, it's said in good humour.

Then, slyly, a throwback, and because he can: ] Would you like a cup of tea?

[oyster]

[ Honestly? Alice doesn't mind the similarities. Aside from what the tea actually is and the fact that she - much like here - hadn't had a choice in ending up in Wonderland, she did like his shop. It was different than any shops she had seen back home and maybe, under the right circumstances, she would've actually spent some time there willingly.

Not that it matters much; if they ever get sent back to Wonderland, it's not like they can go back to Hatter's shop.

A smile flickers across her face at what he says first and then it widens slightly as she nods. ] Yeah, please. Some jasmine if you've got enough?

[ Her eyes scan the shop once more before she moves further into it, hands slipping into the pockets of her dress. ]

/late, but i had to~

[onsilksheets]

[Instead of responding to the ad on the network, Bela decides to go to the teashop itself and have a look. She couldn't even remember the last time she had tea and well, Bela was certainly going to take advantage of that.

She arrives outside it about thirty minutes after the post went out, bringing her own cup with her. Before Bela actually approaches the man on the couch, she glances around the area and notices all of the various furniture and items in it. Seemed like someone had very sticky fingers.

Bela comes towards to the couch where he's lounged on, stopping a few feet away.]

I'm guessing you're the one I need to ask about the tea, yeah?