Twilight Tea (The new IC Thread, open to all!)

The teal-eyed apothecary doodled lines and circles onto a cloth napkin with a charcoal stick, passing the time until his tea arrived. Minutes or so ago, he'd sent away a domerii with an order of white tea. It was probably a safe bet for taking tea today. White tea's leaves were harvested early and without oxidation. They steeped at low temperatures and for shorter times than other teas, so Omen wouldn't have to wait for very long before it arrived. Some people found that white tea was more mellow than others, but it had been several years since the seromancer had felt the zip of caffeine. As a result, that detail made no difference to him.

A haze of thoughts came over Omentus' eyes, clouding out the rest of the world. His mind wandered onto his work. Not the work that he'd left behind in the Sprawls of Kedaldown, but beneath his shop in city proper. A chorus of voices filled his mind, each offering advice and council on what angle would be best to next take to find this particular key. Lorik suggested that the project might have more than one key. Neerinyon advised that his methods might be too narrow, considering the medium. The blood is fey in nature, the drow's spirit told him, you may wish to consider using methods that will ground out the inconsistencies between fey and mortal creatures before moving on to the other devices.

The tip of his charcoal stick curved around, completing a circle. All in one moment: Without warning, there was a flash of cyan-white light that came from the napkin. Its cotton threads came unwound from the fabric, twisted about one another and took on a semblance of life. From the nether, a new kind of soul emerged and possessed the fabric, swiftly turning from pristine white to colors of green, brown and a bit of icy blue. The feral face of an animal-like appeared where cotton threads had gathered in a particular way. Fangs formed in its mouth, its heart began to form and its body started to sprout legs from where the napkin's threads pinched together.

Shocked out of his reverie, Omentus waved his hand over the new creation, stemming the flow of magic before the thaumaturgy created some terrible abomination. Given that it would be formed of a napkin and his thoughts on nature faeries, it probably wouldn't have been very dangerous, but some things simply shouldn't be tampered with. Not without the right preparations, anyway, the apothecary thought.

His tea arrived. Omentus thanked the domerii, and took a sip. Eyes were still on him. He wondered how much attention his little accident had garnered, and the haze of thoughts began to take him over again. As he began to look down at the table again, though, his eyes flickered over the silver-haired girl at the table with Leonna. He blinked, and came back to reality. A butterfly on his arm fluttered its wings as if about to take flight, and then changed its mind.

She had been watching him, and he remembered where he'd seen her before. "Leita, right?" he asked. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"

Leita had stared with wide eyes when the man's napkin seemed to transform into life, into a creature of some kind. It apparently happened absentmindedly as he doodled upon the napkin, lost in thought. The man quickly snuffed this stirring magic out as if he had accidentally caught something on fire.

He then looked up at her and asked her very politely to have tea with him. More shocking than most of this was that he seemed to recognize her, and he even said her name.

Leita's heart started beating rapidly. Leonna was terrified of this man for some reason. Yet he was behaving rather cordially, even if he was very odd. His teal eyes had slit-pupils like a cat. It seemed like he was no longer completely human. She didn't know what to do or say. She stared at him, green eyes wide, on the verge of both shock and fear.

How had he known her name? What had he done to Leonna that caused her to be so scared of him?

Adrien had heard this offer no doubt, but he acted as if he hadn't. He continued to console Leonna and the boy. It seemed he had left it up to Leita to handle her own situation with the strange man now. The questions burned at her, even though she was very cautious about this man. They were in the middle of a tea shop with both Adrien and Aurora there. What was the worse he could really do to her?

Curiosity caused Leita to nod her head. She didn't rise immediately. She continued to stare at him, though she avoided his eyes mostly. Slowly, she picked up her kambucha tea and pulled a seat out on the other side of the table. There she sat across from Omentus Anima. She sipped her tea for something to look at and do.

Aurora had been about to speak further to Clown, but a flare of energy snapped her attention again to the newcomer. ****... What is he thinking?! Just as quickly the man caught his action and snuffed the life he was a hair's breadth from creating. Then, he spoke to Leita. How does he know her...? She guessed the girl thought herself the safest in present company, and accepted his offer for company. She trusts so easily, and her curiosity is undeniable. She kept an eye on the two as she turned back to the youth at the table with her. "Which finger is the doorbell and which is the knocker?"

He wagged his index finger at her. "Tis be the doorbell. No knocker that needs be knockin this hour of th'day. Or night. What time is it?"

I was too late! By the time I noticed Leita leaving, she was already making her way to that horrible man. A small whine was my only protest, quite frightened for Leita, but no more able to move any closer to the man that had been my captor. As long as Adrien was near... surely, he would not allow anythinig to happen to her.

He was warm... and soft. I continued to hide against Adrien like a frightened child, knowing full well that I was acting entirely like one. Would it be even worse to ask him to check my closet for Omentuses once this was over? Now that I had seen that necromancer again, I knew I would not be able to sleep. How had the dome ever allowed him here?

Ah... and Ceyrnan. I cast a guilty glance at the boy, blushing at my own immaturity. Even without knowing all that Omentus was, he was as scared as I was. All that could be done was to trust Adrien and his sheer power, a strength so great that I doubted even Omentus could touch it.

Aurora chuckled, reaching out a hand, fully expecting either another personality, or a practical joke, both in equal probability. She gave a little tug to the proffered finger and sat back in her chair, glancing occasionally at Leita to keep tabs on her situation. She doubted this man was unintelligent enough to attempt anything with so many witnesses present, but it always paid to take care with the unpredictable.

The voice was calm, soft with a chuckle. "That's all the strength you're going to pull with?" He asked, jokingly, kindly. He was calmer than before, quieter. Clown lifted off the blanket and rolled it up, putting it on the table along with the hat. His eyes were no longer wild and wide, instead, they remained bright, but calm.

Aurora chuckled. "I thought it would be rude to ring loudly if I was expected." She smiled at him warmly. "Hello, Matthew. It's nice to meet you. Would you care for some tea?"

He chuckled in response. "It's fine... I've had my fill." His eyes wandered, turning towards Omentus and Leita. He remembered his eye reacting to Omentus violently before...

Aurora watched his gaze wander to the other table. "Do you remember him better than Manic? What can you tell me?"

"Not a lot." He turned back to Aurora, his finger rubbing the scar over his eye. "I remember... my eye reacting to him. Violently... We were on a ship, and he was there... doing something that made my eye point him out..."

Aurora cocked her head a little. "Your eye?"

Matthew smiled slightly, "You'll have to see it to understand..." He glanced at Omentus, "I hope we don't have to see it."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Leita," Omentus said. He was doing his best to make conversation, even though it was clear that something had shaken the people around him. He wondered if it were the napkin creature. He looked down at the napkin.

The middle of the napkin was a swirl of colors, and the threads and fibers had been rearranged as though by the hand of a meticulous and extremely patient artist. The seromancer pondered about how to undo the accident, and then wondered if doing so would create an even larger stir. Finally, he concluded that perhaps it was just not a good idea.

The seromancer blinked, and when his eyes opened again, they were solidly the color of blood. It was as though he had opaque red marbles where his eyes should have been. He glanced around the room quickly, and then grimaced. Floating and shapeless beside his tea table was a disembodied soul. Not like the ghostly girl -- this soul had never known life at all. It had no identity and no shape.

Omentus swallowed and looked around. Since his head didn't move, it wasn't a very obvious gesture, given that there was no clearly visible difference between the different parts of his eyes. He was wondering what a wizard is supposed to do when this happens. He mused about it in his own mind, Certainly, one cannot just create life and then leave it be. It must be nurtured and cared for... but it isn't really life. It's just a soul... "but is it close enough?" he said the last part out loud, although it was clear that he didn't intend to. It was a part of the haze of thoughts that had overcome him.

He looked up at Leita. "So, what brings you to -" he stopped short, blinking. "Where are we?" he asked.

Leita stared at Omentus, her green eyes remaining wide and uncertain. She sipped her tea mutely as he stared around as if he had completely forgotten about her, and then started muttering the end of his thoughts out loud, it seemed. When he looked back her, he seemed to have completely forgotten that he had invited her to have tea with him, and apparently had forgotten where he was entirely.

She didn't really know what to do or say for a moment. Leita wasn't really sure what to think of Omentus either. He seemed easily distracted and confused. He hardly seemed that threatening, except for maybe the random bits of magic that seemed to burst forth on accident because he was so distracted and not focused on where he was or what he was doing. Why was Leonna so afraid of such a disorganized and confused man?

She knew Rontu didn't like Omentus either. Whenever Ren brought him up, there was a cold steeliness about his eyes. Leita might have even said he was sullen at the mention of the name, if Rontu ever really got sullen about anything. In fact, he probably would be upset with her now for sitting here with him. What had Omentus done to upset Rontu? Was it just that he had altered Ren? Did he know something about what he did to Leonna?

Leita suppressed the surge of discomfort and the feeling of wanting to disappear from this man's company at his unnerving oddities. She was still curious enough to bear with it. She set down her tea and rearranged her wide bewildered eyes. She tried to look him in his disconcerting teal eyes and slit-pupils. It was extremely uncomfortable to do.

"Um ... we're in the tea shop," she said, trying to be careful not to mumble her response so that he could hear her properly. "Remember? You asked me to have tea with you?"

"Yes, my lady. I apologize," Omentus answered politely. "I know that this is a tea shop, I'm just not certain of where this tea shop is. I wandered here by accident. I cannot remember how long I'd been wandering, either, and so I am unfortunately ignorant about where we are." He took a breath, sighed quietly, and then took another sip of his tea. He looked into the space where the soul should be floating. Would it be thinking, right now? he wondered. If it was, what kinds of thoughts would it have?

"I have never had the honor of meeting you directly," he said to the silver haired girl across from him. "And I feel like we ought to have the opportunity to get to know one another, but where would we start?" He paused, both waiting for her to answer, and considering if there was something he was forgetting. "Perhaps a gift to commemorate our meeting is in order? Would you think so? I do have something you might appreciate -- yes, actually. I think you might be just the one to have it."

Without hesitating, Omentus opened the red leather bag on the right side of his belt. He rummaged through it briefly, and then drew out a box that looked both drab and fancy at the same time. It was a small, cedar box covered with brown silk, and brass studs at each of the box's corners. On one side it had a pair of brass hinges, and on the opposite side it had a silver latch. Inside the box was a fancy, thick glass bottle with a glass lid and a rubber stopper that could secure the lid tightly. The bottle was large enough for an ounce of liquid.

Naturally, the bottle inside the box (presently closed), was filled with perfume. If opened, it would diffuse a simple and gentle scent: chamomile and sweet pea, bolstered with the smell of fresh-fallen rain, and enhanced with details of orange and real jasmine.

Omentus set the box down on the table in front of Leita, and then looked up at her with a proud smile. "It is yours, should you like it," he told her.

Quite suddenly, Omentus was speaking clearly and fluently to her. It seemed she had been mistaken about him having completely forgotten where he was. And yet, it was true that he wasn't sure about it in the first place. He seemed aware of his tendency to lose track of what he was doing. Thus he stated he wasn't sure how he got there.

Then he said something more confusing. Never had the honor of meeting her? Where had he heard of her before? How had he recognized her if they had never met? Then he quickly went on about a gift. Omentus was moving quickly in the conversation. Leita sat there staring at him, feeling very confused herself now. Why give her something only after having just met?

Omentus soon brought out a box and offered it to her. He smiled at her, and Leita tried to look him in the eyes again but failed. Instead, she slowly opened the box. Nervous about being offered a gift so soon. It felt off somehow. It made her uneasy in a way she couldn't quite explain. She felt it would be rude to refuse though.

A soft and pleasant scent came to her when she opened it and found a handsome bottle of what was obviously perfume. It was a beautiful smell. Something an elegant lady would wear. It seemed to match instantly with the things she wore now. The pretty but tasteful outfit. Not too formal, but not exactly just casual. The delicate butterfly necklace and hairpin that she was now wearing. The gift ... it was something like what Adrien would have done.

Leita worried her bottom lip again as she stared down at it. She really didn't know what to think of Omentus Anima now. Leonna was terrified. Rontu was coldly angry. And yet the gift was rather thoughtful and generous. Omentus may be an easily distracted man, but it seemed he could be kind.

She looked up at him and smiled tentatively. "It's ... really beautiful and lovely. Thank you."

He mumbled to himself as he staggered out of the trees. Sanguine was not happy. He was not pleased. He was, indeed, rather irritated, as he had been it should have been mine! following his quarry for some time before losing her in the forest.

She had been strangely alluring to him. He had seen her while stalking someone else, in fact, and she had drawn him like a magnet, which in itself was an oddity. Usually nothing would draw Sanguine's attention from his prey. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember what she looked like. Annoyed, he mumbled to himself.

"A bright light, it was bright. Damn it! She was bright!" I wanted the light, I wanted it!

He had followed her into the woods he had seen her enter - a forest which, he failed to realize, had not been there the previous moment, though Sanguine rarely noticed such things anyway; he saw things which weren't there all the time - and tracked her through the thick foliage. He heard strange laughter, high pixie-like voices, mocking him, taunting him. Making him angry.

And halfway through the voices stopped, and the lights had all but vanished, and stranger sounds came through. Muted snarls, rustling in the bushes. And then something came for Sanguine.

Had anyone been observing the dark fey jungle (had such a thing been possible), they would have heard the grunts of rage and the screams of surprised pain, and they'd have seen Sanguine depart the jungle moments later, angry, untouched, with blade in hand - though departed was perhaps the wrong term; ejected would seem more appropriate, as though the forest was hurriedly pushing him out, perhaps as one predator acknowledging another but doing its damnedest to be rid of it.


And so, he found himself on a strange path, in a stranger citadel, in front of a strange looking shop. But Sanguine liked strange. Strange was interesting, it was appealing.

He sauntered over to the teahouse and walked through the door.

Aurora rubbed the center of her forehead and down the bridge of her nose with her fingertips. Is he that incompetent or that attention deficient? I guess I'll take care of it after he leaves, if it's still lingering about... Chances were a lump of soul energy with no life or spirit of it's own would dissipate over time, but if it didn't she could disperse it easily enough. The change of his eyes didn't bother her, her own eyes changed when she delved deeply in her power.

He seemed to be new to the Dome as well, and, like most newcomers, not entirely sure how he happened to arrive there. No clues there, other than the Dome had a reason for letting him in. That answer was anyone's guess, and she didn't feel like playing 20 questions with that entity at the moment. It was still acting a little grumpy anyway...

She sighed, then wondered about his gift. It didn't seem malignant, and there were cultures that gave gifts as a token of introduction, usually when meeting someone of position. Was Leita someone of note other than in power, and how would this man be privy to such information? Perhaps she'd ask Adrien later.

She sipped the tea her server returned with, and looked back at Matthew. "I apologize for my mind wandering a bit there. Are you saying there is another personality within you? Is that the one to cause concern, because you and Manic both seem to be sweet boys."

Then, someone else walked in. Again that disturbing aura of an unbalanced mind. Goddammit... Is the Dome just trying to gather all the certifiable crazy in one spot today?!

"Yes... there is." He replied, still smiling. "There are three. Manic, myself and the crazy one. Demented, or Berserker, whatever you'd like to call him." His voice faded as he turned to acknowledge the other one. This one didn't seem as calm as Omentus... but there was something very disturbing about him.

Chanson picked up on it immediately. She was immediately and greatly disturbed by the new person. More so than Omentus. It seems this one was not so mysterious. The scent and aura of the blood on his hands wafted all around her, the darkness that she felt around him; so much so that Chanson could imagine a grin on his face while he murdered someone. Immediately the tune she was playing went completely off key.