Fantasy Just in Time for Tea [ TragicTrees & Lafeae ]

[elytra]

Tea shops were supposed to be comforting.

That was the point of them. Having a home-y feeling about the shop was good for business. It's why shop owners set up comfortable couches and tables for customers to sit down at. Tea was already comforting enough by itself, and was the sort of thing people drank when they had a minute to just relax, unlike coffee, which was usually for people who were up and about and needed something to kick start their mind into action.

Zadkiel, personally, had never been a fan of coffee. It was too bitter, and the caffeine never did him any good. Tea, on the other hand, he liked. He mostly liked peppermint- it was his usual pick -but when that wasn't available, he was really open to anything offered to him, so long as it was tea. It was why he frequented tea shops so often, because even if he didn't like the possibility of crowds, it was worth it.

This tea shop wasn't comforting, though. Instead, he was dreading going inside.

You see, the thing was that this wasn't a normal tea shop. While it did have tea- it's only saving grace, if you were to ask Zadkiel -it also had magic, particularly stemming from its owner. And magic was fine, most of the time. People who used magic weren't any more likely to be devious than those who didn't. It was just that the owner happened to be a demon, and being an angel himself, he was immediately opposed to even going near the place. Unfortunately, he needed help, and that help was the most likely to be given by this man. That didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

He straightened himself out, nervously looking his reflection over with the glass of the window, before heading in. He could've waited outside longer, procrastinated in hopes he would just sink into the sidewalk and never be seen again, but that wouldn't do him any good. It was best to just get it over with. The sooner he started, the sooner he was done, and the sooner he could banish this to the depths of his memory, never to be seen again. He glanced around the room momentarily, making sure that no one was paying much attention to him, before making his way up to the counter.

"...Hello." He said awkwardly to the person manning the front, reminding himself to stay polite, because it was no one here's fault that he was stuck doing this. "Is the owner of the shop around? I need to speak to him." To be honest, he had no idea how this worked, and was taking a leap in assuming he could just ask to see the man. He didn't know how else they would do it.

 

[lafeae]

The teashop was small, with six or eight high top tables and several more than sat on the floor with pillows and bean-bag chairs and couches. Everything about the place was seeped in old world, from the delicate woods framework to the brocade curtains as tapestries leaving a soft glow around the place, warmed by sconce lights.

Torick liked to think the eccentric air of the place was welcoming. An old home with a mix of potpourri and cinnamon spice to hug the senses and the soul. The patrons always smiled and enjoyed it; business was never better, but he was never in it for the money. Money was easy—a rich tea, a hearty tea made with understanding, love, and truth, was hard. The were concept easily concealed by taste and sugar. But to the demon, it was a matter of principal. A potion for the soul.

He was vaguely aware, even from the back, that some otherworldly creature had graced his presence. The reading was lost, his hands pulled away from an text as he floated up front. His fingers dragged along the walls for guidance.

“He’s...occupied at the moment, sir,” the girl behind the counter said. “I can give you his number and you can call him later, perhaps? Unless it’s an emergency.”

Torick stepped out from the hall. “I suspect it is an emergency. Yes?”

He raised his head to Zadkiel, but eyes weren’t watching. A blindfold covered his eyes; a mess of stitches made a new pair of eyes instead, simmering in bright colour. Something to meet eyes with his patrons.