Posted: Thu Feb 17, 2011 11:40 am Post subject: Tea Time (Open to any thirsty crew members)
It had taken two trips to move everything from Esme's cramped Omega apartment into her even more cramped new quarters on the Emortay. She had always considered herself a light packer, but now looking at all of her belongings piled haphazardly in boxes and two very large duffel bags she couldn't help but wonder how she was going to fit it all in here.
Still, it was a nice enough room. Not the best she'd ever had, but it had a decent amount of defensive positions, L-shaped to provide some cover in a close-quarters fight, and even a little closet with a vent big enough to squeeze through if she really got in a tight spot. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. She wasn't quite as petite as she'd been the last time she'd had to crawl through one.
She unpacked her weapons and armor first, her more valuable ones being locked securely in her closet and the rest organized neatly in strategic locations around the room. Then she went and hid a few more throughout the ship, just in case. Her small wardrobe of clothes was kept in one of the duffel bags and thrown unceremoniously in the corner, along with a few pairs of boots, and then she had only two boxes left to unpack.
One held her tea collection, twenty-four different tins of varying sizes and design which she arranged carefully on the shelves near her bed, along with an assortment of sweeteners, infusers, and two tea sets; a very worn blue ceramic one, and another she simply kept in it's box, too precious to take out except on the most special of occasions. The other box was mostly knick-knacks, souvenirs from her travels, several books, and one carefully carved stone box, all of which she arranged carefully along the shelves.
"Hmm, I'm getting to be a bit of a pack rat, aren't I?" Esme mused as she stepped back to admire her belongings. Making a face, she took a battered old water heater down from the shelf and headed to the nearest sink. Tea, she thought, seemed like a very pleasant idea at the moment.
"Ah, hello," Xerxes purred as she fell into the door frame. "Fancy meeting you there, Mr. Doorway."
She paused a few moments, letting herself become properly reoriented with her surroundings. It had been a long time since she had a proper drink with company, and of course, being the enthusiast that she was, immediately took advantage of the opportunity to get properly wasted. Carelessly. And though she knew that a nasty hangover would be her prize in the morning, she was by no means ready to give up the day. She had to hand it to her previous employer, though; he really had great taste in wine.
Her body began to itch to do something. Normally, she'd dance away on the fluorescent-lit floors in the Afterlife and would have had taken home company on the occasion that other needs demanded to be met. But now? Confined to a fairly small vessel, this left her in a strange predicament. The dancing could have been taken care of in her room, but it was still a mess, even after she cleaned it up for her boss. Dancing in the hallways with abandon was probably not a smart idea, and would give off the wrong impressions. Nor was actively seeking out that turian. She licked her lips as she quickly wondered what he looked like. Tall, dark and handsome, completely ripped with a dashing uniform?
"Sign me up," she said to herself as she propelled herself away from the door frame. The mercenary really enjoying hanging out with her boss, and she got the impression that the girl was really open-minded. Not that she seriously was thinking of trying to deliberately start up "personal relations" with anyone. Even if he was the type that was cool with humans and did it "for the lulz", as one of her previous squadmates had put it. The thought was entertaining, though.
Going through altar assembly put her in a strange funk. Seeing those familiar faces- faces that laughed and smiled and had no worries written across their brows- reminded her of how lonely she had become. Those friends disappeared from her life, one by one. Whether by bullet or disease, Death continued to plague her social life. Eventually, all that was left was herself and the other half of her complicated relationship that was stationed offworld God-knows-where. No, her usual outlets were off no use this time. All she really wanted was to meet more people and get to know them.
Humming to herself, Xerxes bobbed down the hallway, looking for the red lights. She could have swore that the hallway didn't seem so long when she first moved onto the ship. Irritated, she tried to pick up her pace, which only caused her to fumble around more. She was really starting to regret that she ignored the label on that bottle. Half-humored, she mused that it was probably something to keep that blasted salarian from exploding from caffeine.
Finally, a door with a red light. Straightening up, Xerxes tried to smooth down her fiery hair and dust off her jacket. Of course, she frowned, as she saw her toes wiggle at her. She forgot to put socks and shoes on. Rolling her eyes, she reached up and knocked on the door. "Anyone home?"
"Ah, hello there," Esme's voice called in from inside the room. A second later she was at the door, tea pot in one hand as she pushed it open with her hip. "Well, nice to finally meet one of my new crewmates," she said with a wry smile. "D'you want some tea? I was about to make a pot."
Xerxes leaned forward a little and squinted her eyes at the teapot. Tea...tea...she knew that she knew what it was, but whatever it was, it was something she hadn't seen in a long time.
"Sounds great, though I don't really know what I'll be drinking," she laughed. "There's nothing strong in it, right? Don't think that would work well with this, um, headache that I've got."
"Hahaha, 'headache', eh?" Esme laughed as she stepped aside to let the woman in. She'd had enough 'headaches' to know what was likely the real problem. "I think I have something to help with that," she said, going over to the tins on the shelf and taking down a small metal box that looked like it had been through a war or five.
"Special krogan blend. Had to wrestle a shaman to get this stuff. Should sucker punch anything that's bothering you straight n'the tits," she said, showing the tin to Xerxes.
"Krogan, huh? How fitting," she mused as she entered the woman's room. It was laid out a bit differently from her own. Too many corners for her own liking, but it still seemed cozy.
Finding an unoccupied corner, she flopped to the floor, the cool wall soothing against her back. "I guess you love your tea," she whistled, gazing at the wall of tins and tea sets. "There's enough there to supply entire Terminus system."
"Eh, you travel as long as I have, you end up with quite the collection," Esme said, spooning what looked like rotten dirt into the tea seeper. "I find tea can be very relaxing. You learn about the different properties, the history, how to make it... It gets very complicated." She set the tea into the water and went and fetched two cups from the shelves.
"But it's a very calming drink. My old partner was a big tea advocate, he was the one that really got me into it all. He was turian, so we couldn't drink the same stuff, o'course, but it was nice anyway. Oh, tea's done!" Esme turned to pour a sickly green liquid into the two cups, before bringing one over to Xerxes. "Don't drink it too fast unless you fancy losing your eyesight for a few hours," she warned.
Xerxes raised her eyebrows. "Turians drink tea? I find that one hard to believe. I mean, sure it makes sense, but all the ones I've spent time with drink nothing but alcohol. They'd probably laugh off "tea-time" as something 'weak humans' would do," she laughed.
Thanking her, she carefully took the hot mug and examined its contents. A quick sniff and she recoiled, face bunched up in horror. "Shit, this smells like death. Thanks for the warning." Against her better judgement, she slowly took a small drink and grimaced.
"So, traveller, huh? What kind of work do you do?"
"Oh, all sorts of stuff," Esme said, taking a sip of her tea. "Went through my idealistic phase when I was younger, ran around taking down slave rings and drug lords and all that nonsense. These days things are a bit calmer. My old team split up a few years ago, personal things to take care of, getting older, you know. A few of them wanted to settle down, do something with less explosions. I stayed working with my partner for a bit longer, but then he ran off and I settled in Omega. Doing odd jobs and the like, nothing fancy. Kill a guy here, settle a bet there." She sighed, staring into her cup.
"Sometimes I miss the old days," she said. "Nowadays I just feel old," she laughed, wrinkling her nose.
"Come on, old? You look like you've barely hit 30." Shaking her head, Xerxes took a bigger drink of her tea, and immediately started to cough it back up. "Dammit, this shit's awful. Goddamn krogans," she swore as she choked back tears. The tea stung and her eyes began to itch. After a few moments, her body calmed down, vision intact.
"But seriously, are you sure you just don't fight dirty? From what I can see, we've got almost the same amount of scars, and I've only been "in the business" for like, 7-8 years? I think? Kinda started out young, so I don't quite remember anymore. But hell, you've even got the tattoos to match those babies. Sure you're not my twin?"
"Hahaha, girl, trust me, I had a daughter who'd be your age now," Esme laughed, the brightness in her eyes only fading a little bit as she took a sip of her tea.
Xerxes almost dropped her cup from excitement. "Really? A daughter? You don't strike me as the motherly type."
She giggled, trying to imagine miniature Esmes running around the ship. Completely cute, save for the mini weapons they also were waving around. "What was she like? I mean, you're speaking in the past tense, so I'm assuming she's dead."
It took a second for her to realize how callous that came out. She groaned and blushed in embarrassment. "Sorry, that was rude of me to say."
"No, it's fine," Esme assured her, shaking her head. "It's an old wound, somewhere around... twenty-five, twenty-six years ago now?" She sighed, taking a sip of her tea. "Batarian slavers, usual sad story. She was five, I was off on some job or another, she was with her father. He made it out with a few bullets in him, but no permanent damage. Ammy? Well, it sounds terrible but I hope she's dead. I've seen what happens to some of those slaves..." she said darkly. The room was silent for a moment.
"Damn, now I've made the mood all gloomy," Esme said, laughing. "Here, I've got an idea. How about we use our last night on this damn station to have a good send off; go out, get drunk, do something stupid. I've got some spare creds I've been saving for a special occasion, figure I should blow 'em while I still can. You in?" she asked, quickly downing the rest of her tea with only a small grimace.
You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum
FAQ
Search
Memberlist
Usergroups
Register
Profile
Log in to check your private messages
Log in
