[TEA ROOM]

[starofchaos]

[Liquid stared up as the lights flickered back on, the mushroom in his hand still held to illuminate the kitchen he'd been about to enter. A raised eyebow was the only response they got before he entered. Absently, assuming he didn't need it any more, he put the mushroom to his mouth and bit into it. The bleep from his phone made him jump and he delved a hand into the pocket of his coat to pluck it out. The screen was lit up, the battery at 100%.]

...what the devil...?

[Shaking his head, he popped the phone back into his pocket and stepped into the room. To his surprise, he realised there was already tea there, laid out in many little cups on the table. Absently, he picked one up, studying it for a long moment. His paranoid mind said not to drink it, but it had been a while since he'd had a decent cup of tea. Absently, he sipped at it. Earl Grey. Interesting.]

(Tea room! Whatever tea you drink is going to have a different effect.

Cherry tea: Ever saw a blushing virgin right before being deflowered? The people that drink this tea will show you how it's done.
Darjeeling tea: Causes the drinker to suffer severe delusions. They might just start to think they're the Queen of England, or a tree, or any number of things. I suggest you take videos for posterity and blackmail.
Earl Grey tea: Drinkers of this tea can't tell anything but the truth.
English breakfast tea: Not only will the drinker be more arrogant, snobbish and better than you, but they will also voice it. Loudly. Narcissism is encouraged. So is slapping them back to their senses.
Mint tea: Completely flip your personality. Good is bad, bad is good, etc.
(Description and idea taken from Addictions

Feel free to threadhop!)

Comments

[moekov.livejournal.com]

[He feels more confused than guilty.]

/...what's wrong?/
[But a chance to focus on something else is happily embraced.]

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/I-it's nothing.../

[SADFASE.]

/Hey... do you have anything to eat?/

[moekov.livejournal.com]

[Ivan cheered up.]
/Yeah, tons! What do you want~?/

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/Do you have noodles? If not, I'd settle for anything./

[moekov.livejournal.com]

[Ivan hoped off the bed, heading over to the kitchen area. He could be heard rummaging around. The sound of a stove clicking on, running water, and noodles splashing into water soon after.]

[He came back, and flopped on the bed.]

/They're cooking~/

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

[Congrats! You got him to smile at last.]

/Thanks... it's kind of you./

[moekov.livejournal.com]

[Success! Though Moekov doesn't know it.]

/It's nothing. I made enough for both of us, actually./

[That's a lot of pasta.]

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/Wow... you must have had a lot on hand./

[Ivan could eat a ton, after all.]

[moekov.livejournal.com]

[No, Raikov just failed to realize that Twotone would have his appetite as well.]

/I made enough for twelve bowls~/
[He hopped back up, going over to stir the pasta. Then he started putting away his clothes, still talking.]

/How long do you think I'll be stuck here? I kind of like it.../

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/There's no way back, so I've heard. I've been here for four, five months now./

[Twelve bowls? That was all? Huh... maybe the man didn't have the same appetite as him.]

[moekov.livejournal.com]

/I think I'm be happy to stay here~ I'll get to spend more time with Yevgeny./

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/Is that really a good thing?/

[It's the return of the SADFASE.]

[moekov.livejournal.com]

/Of course! I love him./

[He pouts at the look, though, then smiles.]
/You look cute when you pout~/

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

[!]

/I- I do not look cute!/

[At least the shock on his face eclipsed the sadness.]

[moekov.livejournal.com]

/Yes you do~/

[FACE NUZZLE.]

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/I'm far too old to be considered cute!/

[...he allows the nuzzle though. It even makes him smile a little.]

[moekov.livejournal.com]

/You don't look old. You're from 1970, right? So you're only 6 years older than me./

[Ivan let go, having to stir the pasta again.]

[unwillinghelper.livejournal.com]

/I'm 31. I was 26 in 1964. I told you there were some differences in the worlds./

[He looked rather amused at that.]

[moekov.livejournal.com]

[He raises his eyebrows.]

/Whaaat? That's...a big difference! But you don't look that much older, still.../