[ the kettle begins to boil, and Elias deliberately focuses on the various teas he has rather than facing Trevor, wanting to keep up some semblance of control and decorum while he adjusts to the new direction his evening has taken ]
[Trevor gives a curious look back at what's being made in front of him. His country never was (and never will be) heavy tea drinkers, but he adores coffee and hopes it's something similar]
I don't know much about British people. Does that mean you're given to guest hospitality?
Social obligation rather than hospitality. You might be the man I loathe most in the entire world, but custom dictates that if I can offer you tea and refreshment in my house, I must.
[ He notices trevor watching and so makes sure the man can see what he's doing-- steeping the spice mix in a pot with the boiled water, laying out the cups and bringing them over to the small table by his chairs so he can pour two cups.
he'd never admit it, but the mindless act of simply making tea feels very grounding just at present. ]
And there are all kinds of tea and ways for it to be drunk. There's no need to give up on it entirely just because of a few bad experiences.
[ but he'll hold his thoughts on that and lay out the china cups and saucers on the table between them. you're getting the full tea experience, trevor ]
Here. Courtesy of Britain's ruthless pursuit to possess every spare inch of earth they could find around the world. Tea leaves steeped with an assortment of spices from the subcontinent of India.
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[At least this isn't someone who wants to turn everything around on Trevor. He sits down, settling hands on knees]
Sorry to hear. Anything I can do about it?
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[ the kettle begins to boil, and Elias deliberately focuses on the various teas he has rather than facing Trevor, wanting to keep up some semblance of control and decorum while he adjusts to the new direction his evening has taken ]
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[His mind scrounges for anything that he might have seen, and comes up empty]
Anything with alcohol is fine, if you've got it. Otherwise, never mind.
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Is it that you don't drink tea, or simply that you've never tried it?
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[He gives an apologetic semi-shrug]
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[ he actually smiles as he says it, reaching to make trevor a cup of chai rather than tea. ]
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I don't know much about British people. Does that mean you're given to guest hospitality?
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[ He notices trevor watching and so makes sure the man can see what he's doing-- steeping the spice mix in a pot with the boiled water, laying out the cups and bringing them over to the small table by his chairs so he can pour two cups.
he'd never admit it, but the mindless act of simply making tea feels very grounding just at present. ]
And there are all kinds of tea and ways for it to be drunk. There's no need to give up on it entirely just because of a few bad experiences.
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[He gives a curious look at the spices. It reminds him of the Turkish packages his family would have traded with the Ottomans.]
After a while, when you only drink beer, the taste of anything else just goes away.
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[ but he'll hold his thoughts on that and lay out the china cups and saucers on the table between them. you're getting the full tea experience, trevor ]
Here. Courtesy of Britain's ruthless pursuit to possess every spare inch of earth they could find around the world. Tea leaves steeped with an assortment of spices from the subcontinent of India.
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Well. Thanks. I didn't expect all this fanfare.
Maybe one day I'll find a tea I actually like drinking.
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[ elias finds, for the briefest moment, that he genuinely regrets not having any biscuits to offer the man.
but it's fine. and his mind comes back around to-- ]
I cannot believe you thought someone might have been beating me.
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Come on, it's not the weirdest thing that's ever happened around here.
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[He takes a sip...and takes another sip]
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[ he needs a moment just to process the idea. ]
Rest assured that I am physically well and entirely unthreatened by the various malcontents on board.
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[A beat, then;]
Your warden is a piece of shit. Never thought I'd find anyone more annoying than Adrian.
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Eiffel? What's he done to you then?
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Nothing. Well, nothing yet. But I have to fight to mute my network machine whenever one of his entries comes up.
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He does rather have a problem with not ever closing his mouth.
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You getting along with him?
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[ that's the same thing, right? ]
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This doesn’t taste like tea.
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[ is he sitting up a little smugger in his chair? he might be sitting a little smugger in his chair ]
And it's hardly murder when he'd just come back.
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[He huffs, just a little]
Still murder. Weren't you killed here, once?
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