Come get random CR at the Willows!

[thelaughingmage]

WHO: Residents and visitors at the Willows
WHAT: CR
WHERE: The Willows
WHEN: Now!
WARNINGS: The Willows!

Comments

Teatime aka Late Afternoon [Open]

[butterflybolts]

Around four in the afternoon, Betsy was abuzz with activity. This was the norm, if she wasn't otherwise distracted. She was in one of the common rooms, where the inhabitants and guests alike were more likely to lounge there than any other places.

In a short amount of time, everything was set up. The tea tray she'd spent practically all of her first paycheck on was arranged with kettle, and enough cups and saucers for everyone living there, and a few extra should guests be about. Set around the tray were various light snacks. They veered away from what she herself would normally set up (such as scones and cucumber sandwiches), but instead tried to reflect the tastes of the Willows' residents.

[turns_to_fire]

Amara was grateful that Betsy was living in the Willows for many reasons, among which her penchant for quiet tea time ranked up there with "kind", "mature" and "didn't think the sun rose and set on Tom Selleck". She could usually count on later afternoon tea and company and after everything that had been going on lately, it was much appreciated.

It was also a really good excuse to bring things home from a nearby bakery and not feel guilty.

"Hello?" Amara called as hung her jacket up neatly, slipping off her shoes at the front door. In one hand was the telltale white box from the bakery, in the other was a bag of books she had gotten from the library. She wasn't sure if anyone would even be home now and if so, well, more baked goods for her.

[butterflybolts]

Betsy glanced up when she heard the greeting. She was making sure the tea was still at an acceptable temperature. "Hullo, Amara." Then, without asking first, Betsy flipped over a teacup, settling it on a saucer and she poured. The saucer was then settled at an easily to be taken place on the table. "You're certainly carrying something that smells nice."

[turns_to_fire]

Amara could easily heat up the tea, no worries, Betsy.

"Fruit tarts. I thought they would go well with tea."

Watch me catch up like a moron! /derp

[butterflybolts]

Betsy's expression clearly reflected delight. One couldn't go wrong with a well made tart.

Ahem.

"Just settle them... here." She pointed towards a serving dish that was waiting to be filled.

[turns_to_fire]

She was glad that her friend was so clearly excited about dessert. It made her feel happy that she could do something to pay Betsy back for all that she had done for her while here. Amara untied the strings from the box and placed them in the serving dish carefully.

"How is work going?"

It felt nice to have a light conversation that didn't involve people inside her head.

[butterflybolts]

Considering if she were to attempt modeling in this day and age, she definitely would be modeling for places like Lane Bryant, Betsy certainly looked as if she'd be excited about dessert.

"The usual, considering. But it is, as they say, a paycheck. And it supports my horrible hair ruining habit." This was said with a grin. "And you?"

[thelaughingmage]

John liked Betsy. Aside from her many other assets, her tea and scones were a reminder of home, so he sat in on her teas on a fairly regular basis. The two of them were from different worlds, in a sense completely different from the one normally used around here, but Christ, just talking to someone who knew the difference between Kent and Kentish was a relief some days.

Which also meant she got subjected to his sometimes questionable sense of humor.

"Wotcher, Betts."

Psychics were hard to surprise, and John seldom tried. It just wasn't worth the grief they could visit on you. In Betsy's case, though, the abrasively uncouth East Ender greeting made for a good substitute.

[butterflybolts]

Considering Betsy was familiar with every signature in the house, sneaking up on her by the residents was likely damn near impossible at this point. So even before his greeting, there was a simple, "Afternoon, John."

She didn't mind the greeting, just responded to it by handing him a saucer with a cup on it. "Amara'd brought pastries by earlier."

[thelaughingmage]

John grinned as she put the tea cup in his hands. Her lack of reaction made its own statement. "Always gracious, is Amara." He helped himself to one. "Been rough the last couple o' weeks. Holding up well?"

[butterflybolts]

Betsy settled herself on a chair, saucer in hand. "As well as could be," was her simple answer. She took a sip from her cup. "It's not something I'm unfamiliar with, but the frequency of things is a bit wearing on the nerves."

She gave John a quirked-brow look, "Though some are more help than others in that regard." Tsk Tsk. Magic types.

[thelaughingmage]

The expression of innocent question John met her look with managed to imply that he had no idea what she could be on about.

"It is a bit of a madhouse," he agreed, dumping two lumps of sugar into his tea. "Reality's come so loose here that you can just about bend it without meaning to." He glanced up at her. "Wouldn't be surprised if you've caught it 'round the edges."

Psychics weren't mages, but they did turn up with some interesting sorts of sensitivities. Besides, Betsy had implied before that she had some passing familiarity with the metaphysical.

[butterflybolts]

The eyeroll she gave him was almost affectionate. Almost. Sure he had no idea. And his comment about reality bending and what not certainly cemented his 'innocence'.

"I'm thankful that I can't do anything 'reality warping'. My other brother, the one I didn't look like a few weeks ago, actually can pull on the strings of reality. Shape it at will." She was quiet for a moment. "His arriving could either make this place or completely shatter it."

She sipped her tea casually then. "It wouldn't be the first time. Otherworlds, while not quite my area of adventurous forte, was certainly Brian's."

[thelaughingmage]

John shook his head. "Quite the family you've got there."

Mutants who could manipulate reality. That one still got him. The concept of doing it wasn't a shocker--what else was magic, after all?--but what made a mage wasn't so much being able to do it as knowing how to. The thought of a world where people just popped up being able to hurl that around with no sodding clue when to stop... "You know," he admitted wryly, "sometimes I find it a wonder that your world's still in one piece."

[butterflybolts]

Betsy's smile was a bit sad. She missed her brother. "He went insane because of it."

She reached over for one of the pastries that Amara had brought. "Well, there's people who try to make it worse, and there's people who try to make it better. Personally, I'm just of the mind that there's less people who'd rather see it fall apart than don't, and in that, it makes things a little easier." Ah, optimism.

[thelaughingmage]

"I'm sorry." It wasn't an apology for bringing the subject up, but John knew more than he would've liked about losing family.

"Doesn't hurt to have the weight of opinion on your side." He didn't bother arguing the optimism. Not everyone in the world needed to be as cynical as him. "It's a never-ending party over in your regular stomping grounds, by all accounts. How different is it from here?"