Scene #2449: Tea for Two

Owner	Pose
No. 9	Nine can make tea. Did you know that? Nine can totally make tea. Nine can make tea like a sonofabitch, you have no idea. Well he'll show you, he'll show you like gangbusters, or something. So there's Nine, bent over the tea set, filling it full of the just hot enough water. There's a, lil, cage thingy for the tea leaves so the water don't get all mucky. He pries open the tin, cursing as some of the leaf fragments scatter across his hand. Wiping them on his pants, he takes the measuring spoon, getting it leveled off after the third try- and dumps it carefully in the little cage thingy thing, clicking it closed. Clank. Clump. Plink. An egg timer is set zzzwwwwph, tictictictictictic and he looks so ridiculously, pathetically proud of himself...
Taro	Taro has no idea of the efforts Nine is making for his benefit. Well, no, that isn't entirely true. He'd sent Nine off on an errand in the form of a request - could he be so kind as to stop at the teashop and pick up a delivery for him? Thus, he is aware that Nine will bring him tea. He is, however, unaware that Nine is taking the trouble to actually prepare a pot of tea for him. No doubt that will change shortly. For now, though, he continues sitting in his chair and flipping though a report on his datapad, seemingly oblivious to all else.
No. 9	Oh he picked up his delivery, and several things beside. He's a good friend, who cares about his friend and his interests and supports his hobbies and shit, like tea. He doesn't get tea, even if he's been drinking it himself but Taro does, and that makes it a bit more worthwhile, a bit more worthy. And thus he is here, puttering about the teaset, working so hard to get everything as perfect as he can manage and fussing and fretting over the details. But the door opens and in comes the Golem King, tea tray in hand, tea set above, tea wafting fragrant within as the tea timer tictictictics down and ding! it's done. He kneels, before his freind, arms out, head bowed, smiling. Not the position of master to slave but friend to friend, the deep intricacies of their friendship evident. He'd avoided the solids he knew Taro disliked, the cookies and jam and all that, but there is a small crystal glass on the tray with a small, sad flower in it. Some sort of otherworld gerber daisy variant, it was a funky, techno sort of color, slightly wilted and crushed just a bit about the edges by clumsy Golem hands.
Taro	It does seem like an odd thing for an android to enjoy, isn't it? He has no need to drink tea, or at least not as much as he normally does. And he's made no secret that he dislikes food, even if technically he could eat it if he absolutely had to... He glances up from the datapad as he hears the door open, catching the scent of brewing tea along with that of Golem. An eybrow arches in surprise, but he doesn't ask. Why should he, when the answer is in front of him. the datapad is set to ths side, and while the smile isn't returned, he bows from his seat as Nine kneels down with the tray. "Thank you." A touch of surprise in his voice to go with the gratitude.
No. 9	Tea is pure flavor. If nothing else that's kind of what made Nine disdain it for so long. No calories, no cream, no sugar. Just flavor. Just for the taste. But that's what Taro wants, isn't it? That's what he's going for. The flavor. He doesn't need to eat. But he wants to taste, to experience it. And just for a second that smile is ridiculous. A child's smile, a simpletons. Children and animals wear that expression, happy to have pleased, craving the praise and then wiggling with it when they get it. The simple thanks, the look of pleased surprise, the grattitude, and he's ridiculous with it, his ugly face creasing uglier in an expression of sheepish, self-satisfied joy. "Any time man, you know I got yer back, in more than just fightin'." And miracle of miracles? The tea? He didn't screw it up.
Taro	It's a rediculous smile, but it's a smile all the same. Taro never has learned to properly sport one himself. Too predatory, baring teeth in what's supposed to be an expression of happiness. Unless Nine beats him to it, he reaches out for the teapot to pour tea. Nine's cup is filled first - another of those quirks in his personal etiquette, he always serves whoever is with him first - and then his own. Both eyebrows raise as he has his first sip, and he looks down into his cup. "This is quite good."
No. 9	5tSmiles are complex things. for all that there's so few muscles, it's a delicate art, one hard to grasp, much less balance. He can make the tea, but he's not sure he knows how to serve it properly, and so he remains in that perfectly unmoving position as Taro prepares the tea. Only once it's done would it be slid to a nearby table, his expression a wrinkled thing, the hope and the shy joy a nominal stranger on that ugly, normally so broken face. "I did it right?" A wry, rueful laugh.
Taro	There are innumerable ways of serving tea, some more formal than others. Some are in fact an art form, a few progress so far as to be considered ceremony. Taro's method here and now is simple and informal, aside from filling Nine's cup before his own. Lift the teapot, hold the lid with the opposite hand while tipping so as to not have it fall, and set it on the tray again once finished. "You did." Pleased tones in his voice. "Taste for yourself." Followed by another sip.
No. 9	He's so crude- the slurp is audible. But then he does have a rather large mouth, designed more for tearing into an opponent or into prey then for delicately sipping tea. So maybe it can be forgiven? He is a monster after all. Slrp. "Hey yeah I did manage not to fuck that up, awesome! Now I just gotta do that for my fights, interactions, political shenanigans and other shit and I'll be right as rain." A pause, then, click, as the cup is set down. "Thank you, by the way. For having, kept me here. Given me good advice. For all of it."
Taro	Taro pays the slurping no mind. They are both monsters, after all. Even if he has better looks than most. He holds his cup in his hands, lowering it to about the level of his chest as they pause to talk. "You've shown me thanks by actually having taken some of that advice," is his answer.
No. 9	He takes a moment, pressing the cup to his cheek to feel the warmth. He can't through his hands, beyond the sensor readings. Which are awesome. But it's not the same. Mmmmm. "Well you're kind enough t' give em to me, I'd be remiss as a friend to just ignore em all." The eyes are closed, and he finally looks up. "You've done me so many good turns Taro. I want to be a better person and you've helped me get there. Supported me during my worst times, during the time of no killing and during my long sleep, during my fuckups and demotions, all of it. Isn't there anything I can do for you? Some way of, I don't know, showing you how much it means to me?" He's such a klutz sometimes.
Taro	Taro is silent for a long moment. No doubt he's thinking. Some of it has been in enlightened self-interest, yes. An admission he does not share. Yet, in another silent admission to himself, he recognizes that somewhere along the line that became no longer entirely the case. "Continue to help me when and as I ask. That is all I can think of for now."
No. 9	"Then, for now, that is enough. And the question remains open." Slrp.
Taro	Taro was not flattering, the tea actually is quite good. He enjoys another sip of it as he regards his 'brother' and his words. "I have come to enjoy your company, Nine. While we do differ in so many ways, we are enough alike that you understand what it is to live in this place where one is more than a 'thing', yet not a full 'person' like those we answer to."
No. 9	"Yeah." Just that. Sip. So eloquent. He looks out the nearby window, into the distance. "I like it here, though. They don't hurt you with it. They don't hurt you for it. They don't push you down and make you cry with the knowledge of it. Here it's okay, to be this thing we are, these things we are. Here they don't punish us for the way they made us." Which they very much did before. They tricked him, and they punished him for his choice, reviled him for giving into this thing they'd harnessed, for selling his humanity for power, for becoming a smelly, hideous thing where once had stood a man. They sneered at him and reviled him and he was less, and they made sure he knew that, all of his days. Here though. Here he wasn't less. He was just different. He was less than a man but not less of a Confederate, and that... ...that mattered. A glance over, and he sips. "Would you permit me to make you tea more often?" A risky proposition, but he seems earnest in his request.
Taro	"Mm." Here, that he is a slave is rarely questioned, and even few ask why he is so. Virtually none have asked him if he would like to be freed. He prefers his chains. They are better than the alternative. This is accepted. A shorter pause this time, more for the effect than for thinking. "I would, and I will."