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ataraxionlogs2012-06-22 08:19 pm
teashop) wrote in ataraxionlogs2012-06-22 08:19 pm
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♙ ❝ One of the privileges of running a tea sho-P. ❞
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. ]
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
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. ]