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first | OTA

A: Tea Shop

It was mid afternoon and Zuko found himself hanging little pumpkin lanterns in the window of the Jasmine Dragon. His boss said it was good for tourist, to get them in the Halloween spirit while they were away from America. Zuko was just thankful it wasn't tiny witch's hats. Nothing like insulting any supernatural guests that found themselves stumbling into the quaint little tea shop. And from what Zuko knew witches tended to be a proud lot. Not that he could mention any of this to his very normal human boss.

There was a jangling at the store front door and Zuko looked down from the step ladder he was balancing on to whatever guest just entered. Immediately he could tell someone from a faction had just walked in. He slowly lowered himself back down on to the floor ready for a tense conversation of him skirting around his own affiliations.

"How can I help you?"

B: Streets At Night

It had been a long day and the only thing on Zuko's mind was crashing in bed and not moving for several hours. However, he was becoming aware of another set of footsteps following his own down the mostly deserted street. He took a sharp turn to his right and listened. Definitely following. He waited until the person rounded the corner after him before he conjured a fireball and blasted it in their direction.

"Stop following me," he bellowed.

C: Hillingdon House

Not matter how many times he came here he always ended up feeling like a stranger. It wasn't too long ago he found himself here, a drifter in need of help and the clan had extended a hand. It was grounding and Zuko was always thankful for anything that showed him what path to lead. He just wished he could feel more comfortable talking to his fellow clansman. It was a problem that stemmed from him and he knew it. There was only one way over that particular hurdle, so he stopped by someone who seemed free and waved a little.

"Hey," Zuko said, "Can I ask you a question? Say you were avoiding someone for a long time, because you weren't sure if they'd want to know you anymore. Things were complicated. But then you ran into them. What would you do? Would you pretend nothing happened and try to build a relationship, or would you try to avoid them?"

He really wished his uncle was here. He was always brimming with confusing, but good advice. A stranger would have to do for now.

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"I was hoping you might have some seasonal blends. What with the decorations."

The witch smiled faintly. To normal people, Halloween was fun. Costumes, haunted houses, ghost tours. Even she'd gone on a few over the last few years, listened to all the stories of strange happenings. Things that had no explanation so far as they could see.

Of course, those histories were always a little more interesting in the supernatural community. But sometimes they were just as unexplained.

Nancy was honestly just trying to make a living. She'd caught sight of a man who looked the sort who could use a little company, and had been hoping to approach him. But, this man apparently preferred his prostitutes fried.

"Oi!" Nancy hopped back in her heels, one hand out in front of her as she kept a shield up. The fireball hit the shield, but kept Nancy herself safe. "Watch where you're throwing that- I wasn't following you. Honest."

Mum's birthday was 1 November, All Saints Day. Which meant Mass, even though Mum was far from religious and Simon himself had stopped believing in God right around the time he realized he could turn into a large dog at will. Still, it was a family tradition. Another family tradition was the birthday tea with Gran and the aunts after church. This year, Dad was swamped with the new costume drama he was writing for the BBC, and the task had fallen to Simon to choose the venue.

"The Jasmine Dragon, huh?"

It was a touristy little place, but it had enough of what Mum would describe as je ne sais quoi that she'd at least consider the location. Of course, with her birthday next week it had better be the right place because they were running out of time.

"Excuse me," he called to a kid a few years younger than him, who was up a ladder adjusting Halloween decorations. "Excuse me, do you hire out the dining room for private parties?"

"Yeah, they're... cute," they blink too, but Zuko couldn't imagine what kind of person would care about that, so he didn't bother mentioning it. Maybe it could be a surprise later when it turned dusk.

"You're looking for pumpkin? We've got an assortment."

While they chatted he was running over what supernatural entity would have an interest in a autumn blend. Was there some potential spell ingredient he was forgetting about? Was he handing ammunition into someone's hand? In the end he decided he didn't care, as long as the place didn't end up aflame.

He walked her to the back to the counter and pulled out little packets of tea and spread them out on the counter for her to see.

"Take your pick."

Zuko cursed under his breath when he saw who he had just assaulted. She didn't look like a mugger, but she had just definitely used magic. At least he wouldn't be in trouble for exposing himself to a regular human. He glared anyway, like it was somehow putting him out.

"How stupid do you think I am."

It was quite possibly a misunderstanding however, and he frustratedly ran a hand through his hair. He sighed, feeling guilty about the harsh tone.

"What are you doing out this late anyway?"

That was a first. The Jasmine Dragon had its regulars and its tourists looking for "real" British tea, which was ridiculous in an Asian fusion tea shop, but Zuko just smiled and served some earl grey not bothering to explain. A party would definitely shake things up. Zuko climbed down the latter and shrugged.

"We can probably do that. What day?"

Zuko dug a notepad and pen out of his apron, ready to write down the details. He could already see the look on some customer's faces when they saw the "closed" sign during opening hours. Small joys.

Abigail took a few moments to browse the packets pulled out. The smell was important. Major aspect of taste came from smell. After a moment, she taps one and smiles.

"I'll try a cup of this, if you don't mind."

Zuko nodded and took the package over to the designated brewing station. He shook the tea out into a steeping ball, placed it gently into the cup, and poured hot water over it.

"It's going to take about 5 minutes," he said.

He tapped his fingers on the counter, looked around at every corner of the shop, looked at the tea again. Anything to avoid looking at the woman in front of him. Zuko's customer service was awful. Finally he said:

"So, you come here often?"

"I haven't ever been in before."

The service was deplorable. But, well, it was quick and hopefully informed. If the quality of the tea was good, she wouldn't hold much against the owner for the help.

"But my normal tea supplier doesn't like to experiment. His teas are his teas, exactly as they have been for years. Good for stability, but..."

She shrugged her shoulders, looking around the shop carefully.

"I wanted something new for a Samhain dinner I'm having."

"If you're throwing fireballs at people, pretty bloody stupid!" Nancy was used to dealing with spirited kids, arguing with them. Truthfully, she knew she looked to be around his age, only being eighteen herself. Nearly nineteen, come November, but that was another thing.

She let the shield down, but did not relax, not even to cross her arms.

"Not that it's any of your business or anything," she muttered, rolling her green eyes. "I'm working and was curious as to if you wanted to have a go, but I'm not really into having clients that assault me right off the bat."

For Zuko's information, Jackson wasn't following him. He was coincidentally close, an unsuspecting pedestrian tangled in his own thoughts when suddenly heat flares, and Jackson barely shields himself from the fire ball with a quickly-conjured spell--

"Christ on a cracker, kid!" He exclaims, pissed off. "You can't be doing that. Imagine what would've happened if I'd been a normal civilian? At least go for a knife or something!"

... the last part was a joke, or at least, Jackson hopes it's taken as a joke.

Edited 2015-10-28 02:14 (UTC)

"Sunday, which I know is a bit sudden," Simon replied, a bit apologetic. He got out his wallet. "It would be from two o'clock to four. I can put down a full deposit now, once I've seen the menu. I..."

He chanced a look at the boy and saw him clearly for the first time. He stared at the horrible scar marking the side of his face and his voice trailed off. Then he shook himself and kept on talking.

"It's going to be a smallish gathering. Just my mum and dad, Gran, and a couple of aunts. Still, we'd appreciate discretion."

Samhain. A witch maybe? Zuko nodded.

"My boss loves his weird blends," should he describe them as weird? That wasn't great salesmanship. He shrugged and reached for the tea that was done steeping. After lifting the ball out of the cup and emptying it in the rubbish bin, he slides it over to Abigail.

"See for yourself. I'm sure it'll be good for your... party."

Zuko could have slapped his face. He'd have to agree with her, that was very stupid. Not that he'd ever admit it. She looked to be just a kid, or so he guessed. Zuko always had a hard time pegging the age of teenagers. But when she said 'have a go' he full out sputtered, feeling his face turn red.

"Having a go! Do I really look like that type of person, you should be--"

He stopped. It was probably a bad idea to tell this girl? Woman? What she should or shouldn't be doing.

"If you're supernatural why don't you go somewhere for safety? Where they'll treat you... nicely."

Abigail took up the cup carefully and took in a breath to smell the tea. Then, she took a sip of it. It was due proper consideration, and she gave it that much. After a moment, she set it down and nodded.

"I'll take ten pounds."

Which... might sound odd. But.

"I don't need it right away. If there isn't enough on hand and it needs to be ordered. But I am willing to pay for the time or shipping."

She was a kid, though Nancy acted far older than her eighteen years most days. Ask anyone that knew her; she was an old soul.

An old soul who really couldn't believe what this kid was saying. Her jaw dropped and she looked at him, aghast.

"You don't even know me!" She started in on him, stamping her foot. "I'm perfectly safe, and I don't take kindly to what you're insinuating." He was right, though. While she did have some safety, her life wasn't exactly the most secure thing. But those safer spots were hardly where she was treated well. Too bad for Zuko she wasn't cursed anymore, so she wasn't about to tell him the nitty-gritty.

Zuko nodded, feeling a little shocked that he has just sold something rather than just serving people like he regularly did. This was a rare occurrence. Maybe it would even get him off the clock earlier.

"Let me ask," he said and he ducked out back quickly to exchange a few words with his boss and emerged with a bigger tin.

"This is the last of it. You got lucky."

He motioned to her to follow him over to a scale and he started scooping out the mix into a fancy green and gold paper bag. It had the words "Jasmine Dragon" stamped on the side with a scrolling illustration of a dragon.

"I guess this stuff is actually pretty good, huh."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. Time to back it up.

"Right, that was a git thing to say. I'm sorry," he paused and then added, "I could have really hurt you."

He said it to relieve his own guilt more than anything. It didn't feel right, not gentlemanly at all to just leave her with a bad apology and nothing else. Not when he had technically committed an act of violence and wasted her time.

"Look, I have twenty pounds. Why don't you take that. So you can get a taxi. Or whatever. Just don't mention this to anyone. Please."

No matter how long he had been alive sex was still a touchy subject and giving money to a prostitute for whatever reason was pushing his limits.

"That's okay, the menus are over here--" Zuko stopped as he noticed the lingering stare and let shame wash over him. People starred all the time. It was a fact of his life. He wouldn't hold it against this kid. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Menus are over here," He swiped one off a table and placed it in Simon's hands.

"What would you need for a party?" That might sound odd, but Zuko wasn't really accustom to parties. He spent most of his time travelling in dingy bars and before that royal banquets of outlandish style as was the way of the Fae. If this kid had a more party hats and streamers thing in mind Zuko would have to stock up.

Zuko tensed the fist he had used to conjure the fireball and gritted his teeth. Jackson was right, it was lucky that it was a supernatural person and not a regular old joe. He'd have all sorts of trouble his way if he happened to light someone on fire.

"I don't think gutting a person would make this situation any different," he said without any sign of getting the joke. 'Killjoy' was Zuko's middle name.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. At least from the magic he knew he was dealing with a witch or meta-human and could be honest about this.

"Sorry, ran into a vampire a week ago. I'm a little... on edge."

Edited 2015-10-29 04:29 (UTC)

"Yes." She said, looking at him. "You could have." But she accepted the apology, and that was that. She was lucky she had magic on her side.

He seemed extremely worried about her mentioning this, which was enough to peak her interest. "No; keep the money. I've got my own, and I don't take things out of pity." Or whatever it was. She could only imagine it was pity, given the way they'd met. "I won't tell anyone, don't know what I'd tell them anyway. I don't particularly enjoy talking about my work to my friends." Kenzi was cool with it, and probably liked to hear some of the details of more interesting encounters. But.

"It's not pity it's... philanthropy," he finished lamely.

Zuko gave her an unsure look. He didn't have anyone he could call a friend in London, but as lonely as that was it didn't sound as bad as not being able to talk openly about things. He assumed that's what most people did, talk about their lives and woes.

"Sounds tough. I'm sorry."

He awkwardly looked around, at anything but Nancy. He wasn't good with this sort of thing. But he was genuinely sympathetic. He hoped it showed.

"Philanthropy." Nancy repeats dully, raising an eyebrow. "I don't need your philanthropy either. You know that's just a fancy word for charity, yeah?" Something rich folks used. Well, she didn't need it. Hell, she didn't want it.

"Nothing to be sorry for." As for not talking to people about her life? It was easier to not talk than to talk about it. No need to burden people with her woes.

Simon burned with shame when he realized what he had done. Why had he stared?! He was a terrible human being, that was why. The kid was being so helpful, and he had to be a complete ass to him in return.

Well, he definitely needed to hire out the Jasmine Dragon now, to make up for it.

"Nothing special. Can you do a larger cake, in addition to the small tea cakes you have on the menu? It's for a birthday." Mum was turning 59 for the fifth year in a row.

Edited 2015-10-30 21:14 (UTC)

"It is," Abigail replied, taking out her card and passing it under the chip reader. "A good flavour for the season but not too bright a one. Some of the ones I've been tasting would be perfect for Halloween but not for what I want."

After all, Samhain and Halloween, though sharing the same day, were vastly different from one another.

"Thank you for your help."

Ringer glanced up from her casual studying at the sight of someone passing by, a paranoid habit, and was surprised when he stopped and waved. She opened her mouth to agree that he could ask a question and closed it again when he continued without pause. It was a bizarre question to ask of a stranger and she wasn't very good at people, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to answer. He was clearly desperate.

"Most people would tell you if they didn't want to know you. You don't need to avoid them." A beat. "Do you mean a single run-in or a continuous chance of seeing them around?"

Awkward happens to be Zuko's middle name. He lowered his hand and frowned a bit, trying to think of what sort of action his sister would take.

"I don't know. She might come back. It's hard to say. She's not exactly predictable," Zuko sighed.

"I guess I don't even know what I want."

The awkward situation was nearly forgot as Zuko started scribbling down the order, trying to look like he knew what he was doing.

"Cake? What kind?" Instantly in his mind he was imagining a three tier cake, complete with iced rose buds and lace pattern fondant. He was sure they could pay a bakery for that. Never mind the fact that it might be a rude surprise to find a wedding-like cake instead of a "happy birthday, mum" single sheet on the table. He had no idea what a human birthday would require. He never watched much telly sitcoms, or even had human friends. Zuko was a bit out of his element.

"It's not charity. You... earned it." Doing what? Who knows. Talking to him was probably a job in itself. Zuko knew he wasn't exactly personable, although he did try his best.

"Being out all night, I mean. I'm just being a good--" he paused. How the hell would he describe himself?

"It's just nice," he decided, skirting around the issues of his identity.

"No," she tells him, though it's not nearly as harsh this time. The irritation of nearly being fried was wearing off. "I don't want your money. I only take what I earn, and I didn't earn whatever you've got on you."

Well. Sometimes she took what she didn't earn, but that's where picking pockets came in.

"You keep it. Give it to someone that actually needs it. There are plenty of homeless around, yeah?"

Zuko tore off her receipt after the printer spat it out and put it into her bag along with the tea. He handed it to her in what he hoped was a humble gesture, seller to customer.

"Most tea shops go for trendy. We're traditional," he said, fully aware of the fact he had been hanging decorations minutes earlier to appear "trendy". It didn't matter, that's what he had been trained to say and the product spoke for itself.

"Good luck with your party."

Zukp nodded, pocketing his wallet. He recognized pride when he saw it and he really didn't hold it against her. She was obviously strong and independent and she didn't need his weekly tips. He could respect that.

"Yeah, I guess I can go philanthropize them." It was a joke, and an intensely unfunny one. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"If you ever want tea some night you can come by the Jasmine Dragon. Free cup on me."

Damn straight! Took you long enough to realize.

"Jasmine Dragon. Alright, I'll look into it." She purses her lips, watching him put the wallet away. She could accept free tea. This was England, after all. People tended to offer you a cuppa just for breathing.

"And you should look into not throwing fireballs at girls just trying to make a living."

"... Right. I'll work on that." Full body shame was creeping up on him. Served him right, really. He resisted the urge to rub at his scar. Instead he turned, walked a few feet, then turned back to Nancy and waved a little in a departing gesture.

"Get home safe."

He then started heading down the street in the direction of his apartment, hoping that was the end of his late night encounters.

"Then you shouldn't exhaust the effort of building a relationship with her." It seems straight forward in Ringer's mind, mainly because she assumes the guy is talking about an ex-girlfriend and Ringer has never been fond of the idea of being friends with exes. She gestures to the chair across from her, in case he wants to sit, not minding listening to a fellow hunter if he needs it. She can always use the allies.

"You don't need to avoid her either, but it might be easier."

Zuko took her offer and sat, hunching over like he was expecting to get told off any moment. He thought about what she said, and then replied a little reluctantly:

"I guess you're right. She hasn't been there for me. I don't think she'd even care if I died. There's no point."

He scratched his head a little perplexed why it hurt to admit that. He didn't need Azula. He never did.

"I wont got looking for her," he decided.

Simon paused to think for a moment.

"A birthday cake, I suppose," he replied in a totally non-helpful way. "Mum likes chocolate, so maybe just a chocolate one with 'Happy Birthday Cynthia' written on it? It doesn't need to be very extravagant."

He paused to consult the menu.

"And I think just the full tea for six ought to do it. Or make it eight, just in case someone decides to bring a plus one." He really had no idea what he was doing, honestly, but it was the thought that counted, right?

This kid was all over the place. Zuko scratched out the "table for six" and jotted in "table for eight" instead. He hoped Simon wouldn't change it again as the tea house didn't have tables larger than eight, anyway. Zuko shrugged and held out his hand to take back the menu.

"Plus one. I guess that could happen," he sounded very doubtful and not very customer service at all. He inwardly winced and in order to back pedal he added:

"I'll see if I can get you a discount. It being a birthday and everything."

She read his posture, wondering why he was so insecure and how he could function as an effective hunter if he had no confidence in his own abilities. It occurred to her that a mentor could do him some good and she made a mental note to find him one if she ever ran into the kid again. In the interim, she could play at counselor. This once.

"Is there a benefit to looking for her?" Ringer couldn't imagine one, yet the idea of leaving her alone entirely seemed to confuse or upset the guy. There must have been more to the story.

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