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mydarkrosaline) wrote2022-12-27 12:11 pm
mydarkrosaline) wrote2022-12-27 12:11 pm
Entry tags:
❧ fic: 'ball tea'
On the third day of Kris-mas, my true love prompted me:
BOBA DATE
Characters: Ardyn Izunia, Emet-Selch
Warnings: Rated E for Everyone Knows A Catty Old Gay Couple
It was a brisk springtime morning. There was a breath of warmth to the breeze, and the pollen from the Tree was filled with sweet smelling nectar. Tiny wisps of it carried on eddies of wind. Every so often, they'd catch on the light and flare like supernovae.
As his beau had such terribly vocal opinions about his looks, Ardyn was dressed well. His suit was light grey, his shirt white, and his colour accent was burgundy. He'd forgone the suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up to the middle of his forearms. He was still wearing fingerless gloves, but they weren't as tatty as his usual ones. He could have got rid of the scars on the backs of his hands and palms, but he didn't want to. At this point, he doubted Emet-Selch wanted him too either.
He stood with the umbrella that Sorcerer of Eld had made for him, twirling it idly as he waited. There was no rain, but it did keep off the light that may have given him a mild inconvenience otherwise. A few of the locals shot him curious looks – no doubt drawn by the presence of the odd prop. Most of them knew which of the 'visitors' had previously been held in the Facility. A good portion of that group gave him a wide berth as a result, but a few were willing to try. One deer-like girl in particular even deliberately caught his eye and smiled at him. He'd gestured with the umbrella and a little nod in response.
It was hard not to want to eat them all. The Scourge was ever hungry, and it hadn't been starved like this in a long time. Still, Ardyn refused. He let the eldritch ravening simmer in the background of his being. There would be time enough later, as he always told himself.
He spun the umbrella. A couple with bird beak instead of nose and mouth and feathers instead of hair looked at him and then hurried on. He wondered if they had all been given some list of undesirables on their news feeds. Maybe it was played with every news cycle. He made a mental note to ask Verstael to check on it. He'd grumble about not being a technical scientist, but then do it anyway because he was burningly curious. It would save him the effort.
All his efforts were saved for tolerating the peace of this place until it was time to do something about it. At least little moments like this made it worthwhile. The reaction to his surprise might make it even more worthwhile – especially if Emet-Selch approved. Ardyn raised a hand to his shirt pocket to make sure the tickets were still there, and thought that the likelihood of his partner hating the real gift was very low.
The light eddies of the wind shifted, buffeting him. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” he said, looking up.
Emet-Selch arrived on the back of his demonic looking horse. He slipped gracefully from its back. He was dressed in a warm looking shirt and simple slacks. Ardyn smirked; it was a dress-down sort of date, then.
“Coo-ee! Over here!” He waved to the other. Emet-Selch looked at him, his thin lips thinning further as he pressed them into a line. Ardyn was glad he still had that effect on people.
“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, “I can see you.”
“What a coincidence. I can see you too.” Ardyn took the umbrella down. He snapped it into his Armiger. It glistened in ruby light for just a moment, coruscating under the glimmering pollen.
Emet-Selch blinked his deep set eyes slowly. The look was almost cat-like, and Ardyn took the implied affection as well. He held out his arm. Emet-Selch took it.
“Where are we going, precisely?”
“I told you! We're going for ball tea.”
“Yes, and you didn't say what that was.”
“It's what your boyfriend took me on a date for, Emet-Selch. Do keep up.”
“Those... pastel coloured drinks with the tapioca pearls in them?” He snorted. “I had thought you might have tickets to something worth going out for. A play, a ballet – a musical, even.”
“What? No. Ball tea -”
“Bubble tea, if you're going to be an ass about this at least call it the proper name.”
“- is just as worthy of going out for as a play.” To Ardyn, it definitely was on the same level as those options. None of them mattered to him. He was just going through the motions, killing time, and trying to have a bit of fun with some other bitter old immortal.
“I know you're only trying to irritate me by saying that, so I will graciously ignore the slander.” Emet-Selch pinched his nose with his free hand, his sigh long suffering. Ardyn smirked; he did enjoy the prissy old bitch. “Very well. I'm glad I didn't bother making an effort for this.”
“Oh come now, you did. You came out, didn't you?”
They sauntered down the street, arm in arm, before Ardyn swung them into the shop. It was bright and airy, and he and Emet-Selch stuck out like sore thumbs. The pastel-furred wolf woman at the counter greeted them cheerfully as they came in. The other workers were busy making drinks, and one of them was off to one side on a different counter, frying up a very jiggly looking pancake. A line of people were in front of them, dressed in all different styles. Ardyn supposed he was a little over dressed, but not too much compared to some who were clearly stopping in on break from whatever management job they were on.
“Queuing. I can't recall the last time I've ever done that.” Emet-Selch groused as he looked at the menu. His lips quirked slightly as he scanned the menu. Ardyn knew that Hythlodaeus liked places like this; it did make his bitter old heart soften slightly at seeing Emet-Selch being reminded of that sweetness.
“I'm surprised you can recall very much, my dear.” He leaned close to him, fond of the way that he couldn't lean over him as he could with so many others. “You're an older fart than I am. I like this one.” He pointed at the taro drink with both grass jelly and tapioca pearls in it. It didn't taste like anything to him, but the textures made up for the ashen lack of enjoyment in that department.
“Of course you do. I think I will try...” He looked over the menu again, lips thinning as he considered. “Hm. Perhaps the milk tea in the 'thai style'. Whatever that may mean.”
“Likely brought over from another world, based on the excited description.”
“Well, I suppose when some calamity slices off most of your world, you get excited for whatever little bits of variety pops up.” Emet-Selch's smile was old and bitter as a disfiguring scar. His eyes, sharp as tawny wine, met Ardyn's.
“You would know.” Ardyn smirked.
“Hi there! What can I get for you?”
The queue had thinned quickly, with those in the line in front of them either sitting at the kitchy tables or waiting by the collection point. Ardyn put his hand to the small of Emet-Selch's back and guided him towards the wolf-girl, who smiled at them in a way that she had clearly practised, as it showed absolutely no fangs. Some older customer must have complained.
“I'd like the taro with grass jelly and tapioca pearls. Warm, if you would! There's still a nip of winter in the air. And as for my date...”
“Date. Date. I think we're rather beyond that point.” Emet-Selch rolled his eyes to the heavens and gave an exasperated gesture of his hand. “I, his fiance, will have the 'Thai milk' with the tapioca. Also warm.”
Ardyn met the girl's eyes and winked. “I think he really likes me. I might ask him out again.”
She laughed, either out of politeness for her job or because she found them genuinely funny, and took the order. Ardyn paid with the communicator's app, as Emet-Selch refused to look at the tech too much.
“Great! Please take a seat or -”
“Get me one of the souflee pancakes, Ardyn.” Emet-Selch waved his hand as he turned and walked towards one of the free tables.
“... Could you be a dear and open a new order? My partner has it in him to be so dramatic sometimes.”
The smile this time seemed genuinely forced, but the huff of laughter didn't seem faked. She was likely thinking that she'd been on her feet all day and just wanted to get through the shift, but also that the old bickering couple were as funny as they were annoying. Ardyn remembered feeling that way himself. Or was it herself? Themself? It was so hard to keep track of who he had been before they all sublimated sometimes. Either way, he had those thoughts and feelings, and thus could have been empathic to the situation.
He paid for the dessert and sauntered over to the collection point. He could feel Emet-Selch's gaze boring into his back, and stretched his arms over his head, popping his back with a little grunt of pleasure. When he lowered his arm, he slipped the tickets he'd kept concealed in his shirt pocket to his palm, and popped them onto the tray when the drinks were made.
“Took your time in joining me,” Emet-Selch said, reaching for his drink. Ardyn pressed a fingertip above his nose but below the Garlean third eye, and gently pushed his head back.
“I'm off to get your pancake now.”
He headed over, acutely aware that Emet-Selch had spied something wedged into the drink holder. He didn't turn around until he had the pancake on another little tray, and smiled sweetly when Emet-Selch's glittering gaze struck him. He settled it on their table and slowly sank into his seat.
“You.”
“Me.”
“It starts soon.”
“It does! Just enough time to enjoy our treats, I suppose.” He pierced the film lid with the straw and took a sip. The warm liquid with the chewy tapioca and soft jelly was a pleasant sensation in his mouth – as was the look Emet-Selch was giving him. Intense, but with a promise of warmth that Ardyn knew would be very rewarding.
“You're lucky I can change my outfit in a blink,” the other said, picking up knife and fork and cutting into the pancake. The fussy tone had returned, but Ardyn knew, just from the set of the man's lips, that he was pleased. “I would be terribly cross otherwise.”
“Can't have you arriving at the theatre in a perfectly presentable shirt and trousers, can we?” Ardyn paused to slurp his bubble tea noisily. “It's unreasonable to imagine someone dressing in a perfectly comfortable outfit to a place where it will be dark and attention will be focused elsewhere.”
“Oh, yours won't be.” Emet-Selch smirked, the forkful of dessert raised and held steady. “I guarantee that.”
Characters: Ardyn Izunia, Emet-Selch
Warnings: Rated E for Everyone Knows A Catty Old Gay Couple
It was a brisk springtime morning. There was a breath of warmth to the breeze, and the pollen from the Tree was filled with sweet smelling nectar. Tiny wisps of it carried on eddies of wind. Every so often, they'd catch on the light and flare like supernovae.
As his beau had such terribly vocal opinions about his looks, Ardyn was dressed well. His suit was light grey, his shirt white, and his colour accent was burgundy. He'd forgone the suit jacket and had his sleeves rolled up to the middle of his forearms. He was still wearing fingerless gloves, but they weren't as tatty as his usual ones. He could have got rid of the scars on the backs of his hands and palms, but he didn't want to. At this point, he doubted Emet-Selch wanted him too either.
He stood with the umbrella that Sorcerer of Eld had made for him, twirling it idly as he waited. There was no rain, but it did keep off the light that may have given him a mild inconvenience otherwise. A few of the locals shot him curious looks – no doubt drawn by the presence of the odd prop. Most of them knew which of the 'visitors' had previously been held in the Facility. A good portion of that group gave him a wide berth as a result, but a few were willing to try. One deer-like girl in particular even deliberately caught his eye and smiled at him. He'd gestured with the umbrella and a little nod in response.
It was hard not to want to eat them all. The Scourge was ever hungry, and it hadn't been starved like this in a long time. Still, Ardyn refused. He let the eldritch ravening simmer in the background of his being. There would be time enough later, as he always told himself.
He spun the umbrella. A couple with bird beak instead of nose and mouth and feathers instead of hair looked at him and then hurried on. He wondered if they had all been given some list of undesirables on their news feeds. Maybe it was played with every news cycle. He made a mental note to ask Verstael to check on it. He'd grumble about not being a technical scientist, but then do it anyway because he was burningly curious. It would save him the effort.
All his efforts were saved for tolerating the peace of this place until it was time to do something about it. At least little moments like this made it worthwhile. The reaction to his surprise might make it even more worthwhile – especially if Emet-Selch approved. Ardyn raised a hand to his shirt pocket to make sure the tickets were still there, and thought that the likelihood of his partner hating the real gift was very low.
The light eddies of the wind shifted, buffeting him. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” he said, looking up.
Emet-Selch arrived on the back of his demonic looking horse. He slipped gracefully from its back. He was dressed in a warm looking shirt and simple slacks. Ardyn smirked; it was a dress-down sort of date, then.
“Coo-ee! Over here!” He waved to the other. Emet-Selch looked at him, his thin lips thinning further as he pressed them into a line. Ardyn was glad he still had that effect on people.
“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, “I can see you.”
“What a coincidence. I can see you too.” Ardyn took the umbrella down. He snapped it into his Armiger. It glistened in ruby light for just a moment, coruscating under the glimmering pollen.
Emet-Selch blinked his deep set eyes slowly. The look was almost cat-like, and Ardyn took the implied affection as well. He held out his arm. Emet-Selch took it.
“Where are we going, precisely?”
“I told you! We're going for ball tea.”
“Yes, and you didn't say what that was.”
“It's what your boyfriend took me on a date for, Emet-Selch. Do keep up.”
“Those... pastel coloured drinks with the tapioca pearls in them?” He snorted. “I had thought you might have tickets to something worth going out for. A play, a ballet – a musical, even.”
“What? No. Ball tea -”
“Bubble tea, if you're going to be an ass about this at least call it the proper name.”
“- is just as worthy of going out for as a play.” To Ardyn, it definitely was on the same level as those options. None of them mattered to him. He was just going through the motions, killing time, and trying to have a bit of fun with some other bitter old immortal.
“I know you're only trying to irritate me by saying that, so I will graciously ignore the slander.” Emet-Selch pinched his nose with his free hand, his sigh long suffering. Ardyn smirked; he did enjoy the prissy old bitch. “Very well. I'm glad I didn't bother making an effort for this.”
“Oh come now, you did. You came out, didn't you?”
They sauntered down the street, arm in arm, before Ardyn swung them into the shop. It was bright and airy, and he and Emet-Selch stuck out like sore thumbs. The pastel-furred wolf woman at the counter greeted them cheerfully as they came in. The other workers were busy making drinks, and one of them was off to one side on a different counter, frying up a very jiggly looking pancake. A line of people were in front of them, dressed in all different styles. Ardyn supposed he was a little over dressed, but not too much compared to some who were clearly stopping in on break from whatever management job they were on.
“Queuing. I can't recall the last time I've ever done that.” Emet-Selch groused as he looked at the menu. His lips quirked slightly as he scanned the menu. Ardyn knew that Hythlodaeus liked places like this; it did make his bitter old heart soften slightly at seeing Emet-Selch being reminded of that sweetness.
“I'm surprised you can recall very much, my dear.” He leaned close to him, fond of the way that he couldn't lean over him as he could with so many others. “You're an older fart than I am. I like this one.” He pointed at the taro drink with both grass jelly and tapioca pearls in it. It didn't taste like anything to him, but the textures made up for the ashen lack of enjoyment in that department.
“Of course you do. I think I will try...” He looked over the menu again, lips thinning as he considered. “Hm. Perhaps the milk tea in the 'thai style'. Whatever that may mean.”
“Likely brought over from another world, based on the excited description.”
“Well, I suppose when some calamity slices off most of your world, you get excited for whatever little bits of variety pops up.” Emet-Selch's smile was old and bitter as a disfiguring scar. His eyes, sharp as tawny wine, met Ardyn's.
“You would know.” Ardyn smirked.
“Hi there! What can I get for you?”
The queue had thinned quickly, with those in the line in front of them either sitting at the kitchy tables or waiting by the collection point. Ardyn put his hand to the small of Emet-Selch's back and guided him towards the wolf-girl, who smiled at them in a way that she had clearly practised, as it showed absolutely no fangs. Some older customer must have complained.
“I'd like the taro with grass jelly and tapioca pearls. Warm, if you would! There's still a nip of winter in the air. And as for my date...”
“Date. Date. I think we're rather beyond that point.” Emet-Selch rolled his eyes to the heavens and gave an exasperated gesture of his hand. “I, his fiance, will have the 'Thai milk' with the tapioca. Also warm.”
Ardyn met the girl's eyes and winked. “I think he really likes me. I might ask him out again.”
She laughed, either out of politeness for her job or because she found them genuinely funny, and took the order. Ardyn paid with the communicator's app, as Emet-Selch refused to look at the tech too much.
“Great! Please take a seat or -”
“Get me one of the souflee pancakes, Ardyn.” Emet-Selch waved his hand as he turned and walked towards one of the free tables.
“... Could you be a dear and open a new order? My partner has it in him to be so dramatic sometimes.”
The smile this time seemed genuinely forced, but the huff of laughter didn't seem faked. She was likely thinking that she'd been on her feet all day and just wanted to get through the shift, but also that the old bickering couple were as funny as they were annoying. Ardyn remembered feeling that way himself. Or was it herself? Themself? It was so hard to keep track of who he had been before they all sublimated sometimes. Either way, he had those thoughts and feelings, and thus could have been empathic to the situation.
He paid for the dessert and sauntered over to the collection point. He could feel Emet-Selch's gaze boring into his back, and stretched his arms over his head, popping his back with a little grunt of pleasure. When he lowered his arm, he slipped the tickets he'd kept concealed in his shirt pocket to his palm, and popped them onto the tray when the drinks were made.
“Took your time in joining me,” Emet-Selch said, reaching for his drink. Ardyn pressed a fingertip above his nose but below the Garlean third eye, and gently pushed his head back.
“I'm off to get your pancake now.”
He headed over, acutely aware that Emet-Selch had spied something wedged into the drink holder. He didn't turn around until he had the pancake on another little tray, and smiled sweetly when Emet-Selch's glittering gaze struck him. He settled it on their table and slowly sank into his seat.
“You.”
“Me.”
“It starts soon.”
“It does! Just enough time to enjoy our treats, I suppose.” He pierced the film lid with the straw and took a sip. The warm liquid with the chewy tapioca and soft jelly was a pleasant sensation in his mouth – as was the look Emet-Selch was giving him. Intense, but with a promise of warmth that Ardyn knew would be very rewarding.
“You're lucky I can change my outfit in a blink,” the other said, picking up knife and fork and cutting into the pancake. The fussy tone had returned, but Ardyn knew, just from the set of the man's lips, that he was pleased. “I would be terribly cross otherwise.”
“Can't have you arriving at the theatre in a perfectly presentable shirt and trousers, can we?” Ardyn paused to slurp his bubble tea noisily. “It's unreasonable to imagine someone dressing in a perfectly comfortable outfit to a place where it will be dark and attention will be focused elsewhere.”
“Oh, yours won't be.” Emet-Selch smirked, the forkful of dessert raised and held steady. “I guarantee that.”