Dec 15, 2016 19:06:32 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Dec 15, 2016 19:06:32 GMT -6
Ren stood anxiously on the train platform. She and Johar had just arrived in Republic City, two weeks to the day since they had first met. The sweet man he was, Johar had dutifully arranged to meet with and pick her up to escort her to his tea shop — his "fee" for helping Ren mend her sash.
The train spewed steam, starting it's chugga-chugga-chugga of movement to a new destination. The tall woman's signature grey hair fluttered messily in the force of the air release, extra strands escaping from the already poorly-constructed braid. She couldn't help but notice that she was the only acolyte on the platform, and though no one seemed to pay her any attention, Ren felt awkward, as if the spotlight was on her.
A tight feeling constricted her lungs, made it difficult for her to breathe. Suddenly, the steam from the leaving engine was too much, suffocating her. Instinctively, she reached out to Johar and squeezed his arm, tugging on it to signal she wanted to leave the platform immediately. Ren was counting on Johar to lead the way, not knowing where his tea shop was located.
Anonymous
Dec 16, 2016 22:24:12 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2016 22:24:12 GMT -6
Johar had not seen a train in person before reaching Republic City. They were big, and loud, and wonderful. They were like Satomobiles, but bigger, able to transport much more at a time. People, livestock, supplies…all could be loaded onto a train and sent along the tracks, over distances he couldn’t even imagine. Johar would never stop being amazed by technology and its capabilities.
Ren, though, did not seem to share his enthusiasm for their current surroundings. Johar jumped as Ren’s hand suddenly squeezed his arm. Her grip was definitely noticeable, but not uncomfortable. It was worrying, though. Johar looked up at his new friend, and though her face gave nothing away, it seemed that she was not in the mood to linger on the platform. “We can go now,” he assured her. Turning, he gently slid his arm from her grasp and began to lead the way off of the platform.
“My shop’s not that far from here,” he told Ren as they stepped off of the platform. It had been a fortuitous coincidence that he had taken ownership of a shop close to a train stop near the outer edge of the city. He loved the location, primarily because it allowed him to meet all sorts of people who came in on the train.
“Thank you for coming,” he said as they walked. “I’m sure it wasn’t the easiest thing for you to do.”
Dec 19, 2016 2:31:51 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Dec 19, 2016 2:31:51 GMT -6
Ren followed Johar quickly, anxious to be away from the steam and the throng of people. Once they had left the station, she took big, calming breaths of cool air. Something about the sudden appearance of steam had made her feel claustrophobic; otherwise, the trip had been fairly uneventful and even enjoyable to a degree.
Johar thanked her for coming, acknowledging the difficulty she had. Ren inclined her head, feeling much better now that they were moving. "It's really the least I can do," she said, deflecting the thanks. And, she added to herself, it's something that I have to do.
As they walked, Ren looked around the city. The signs of battle had been all but eliminated; some shops were still repairing but for the most part, everything looked the same as it always had. It was almost absurd to think that just one year ago, the streets had been filled with screaming people, and the air and bay filled with ships.
But the real jolt didn't come until they passed a police officer in uniform. A little hat bobbed past her, coming just up to her shoulder; instinctively, she turned, her heart leaping... but the face that greeted her was unfamiliar.
"May I help you ma'am?" the officer asked, her voice rich and warm.
"Erm. N- no, sor.. sorry."
The officer shrugged and bowed, continuing on her way. Ren stared after her, crestfallen. After a few moments, she turned back the way they were going, her face burning.
"So your shop!" she said a little too loudly, "it's cl- cl.. close by, yeah?"
Anonymous
Dec 20, 2016 14:39:40 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Dec 20, 2016 14:39:40 GMT -6
Johar did not live in the most affluent part of Republic City—far from it. But really, he was glad he didn't. The streets in this district had so much more personality than what he'd seen when he'd managed to catch glimpses of the more extravagant homes at the city's center. The wealthy had large homes, with sprawling lawns. Here, immigrants to the city stepped off the train and made homes for themselves where they landed. Apartment complexes sprouted like weeds, units stacked atop each other like blocks clumsily arranged by a child. Aesthetically it was one big mess. And yet, there was something charming about the area. The people here were, for the most part, kind. And from healing or even just selling tea, he'd gotten to hear so many different stories of far-off places he'd never get to see. There was so much for him here, he wondered if he'd ever leave.
As he noticed Ren looking at their surroundings, Johar was reminded how different their experiences of the city were. He'd arrived here after everything that had happened, and though he had seen the aftermath of the violence, he'd not witnessed any of it firsthand. Not for the first time in the past couple weeks, he wondered if pushing Ren into coming back to Republic City had been the right thing to do.
So far, though, she seemed to be doing okay. She wasn't saying anything, but then neither was he. It took him a moment to notice when she stopped walking, and he turned back, confused, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong. The question died on his lips, though, when he saw the look on Ren's face as she stared after the police officer. As Ren turned back to him, he averted his gaze. It wasn't his place to ask her about such things if she didn't feel like talking about them. And from what she said, it was clear that she did not. So, he just nodded, pointing ahead. "Yes, it's just up ahead."
One more block, and there they were. His shop was a small, squat building sandwiched between a noodle restaurant and a clothing store. The front boasted peeling paint and two large, smudged circular windows that offered passers-by a view of his wares. The sign above the door had hung there since long before he'd taken ownership of the place. Without money to make a new one, he'd simply scratched out the original owner's name and messily written in his own. The door creaked when he opened it, dust motes floating down in a beam of sunlight from one of the windows.
The interior of the shop was only a little more put-together than the exterior. Every wall was covered in shelving, and on each shelf sat various kinds of tea. The shelves were organized by region. Teas that hailed from the Fire Nation were directly across from the front door. To the right, taking up the most space, was the vast collection of teas he'd amassed from all over the Earth Kingdom and the United Republic. The left wall held his smallest collection, tea from the Water Tribes. He stared at that wall for a moment, frowning. The Water Tribes were so far away, and their plants so temperamental, that it was difficult to get his hands on their unique varieties of tea. One day he'd find a way to offer a sufficient selection.
Suddenly very self-conscious of the fact that he had a guest in his shop, Johar coughed. "Um, so this is my shop. You can look around, if you want…my living space is in the back, through that far doorway…" Eyes on the floor, he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
Dec 27, 2016 3:53:49 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Dec 27, 2016 3:53:49 GMT -6
Ren breathed a small sigh of relief when Johar pointedly ignored her much too loud voice, the flush in her cheeks. He led the way to his shop, Ren trailing just a few steps behind. Her prematurely grey hair fluttered in the chilly autumn air, partially covering her eyes. The tips of her fingers were cold against her face when she brushed the hair away.
Both suddenly and at long last, they arrived at Johar's shop. She stepped inside, grateful to be away from the chill. The interior was not quite what she expected: instead of the formal atmosphere of a tea shop, the inside was laid out more like an apothecary. The walls were lined with shelf upon shelf upon shelf, filled to their ends with what she could only assume to be tea. There was a conspicuously less populated area, though, and Ren wondered why that was so.
But the apothecary-like atmosphere felt cosy. Ren had always felt uncomfortable in traditional tea shops, especially if they held tea-tasting ceremonies, like the Lotus Cafe. Johar's shop felt less formal, more like the kind of place Hangetsu would have taken her.
"It's really quite lovely," Ren said, stopping to admire some nearby tea. The aroma was quite appetising, and she hoped Johar would offer her some tea to fight the chill in her bones.
"Is this all tea?" she asked, gesturing to the walls, her wide eyes even larger, magnified through her glasses lenses.
Anonymous
Dec 27, 2016 23:51:03 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Dec 27, 2016 23:51:03 GMT -6
As he waited for Ren to give her opinion on the shop, Johar wondered why he was so nervous. He'd had plenty of customers since he took over the shop, and it had never bothered him before when they complained about the shop's layout or lack of the "trendier" features of other tea shops. He'd arranged the shop the way he'd wanted it to look, and as far as he was concerned, that was all that mattered. But here, with Ren, it was different. He cared what she thought of the shop. It took him some time to realize why: he'd had plenty of customers in his shop, but never a friend.
Finally, Ren spoke, and when he heard what she said, relief flooded through him. "Thanks," he said, raising his head to meet her gaze with a smile. When she asked if it was all tea, he nodded. "This is every kind I've managed to get my hands on," he said. He pointed to the less crowded shelf. "Those are the rarest, the teas from the Water Tribes. I've got a book of over a hundred varieties of tea grown in the Water Tribes, and I've been trying to get them all, but…" He shook his head. "It's such a headache. They're hard to find this far away from the Tribes, and what I do find is expensive. I'll keep at it, though."
He waved an arm to indicate the whole of the store. "If you want some tea, you can just pick whichever kind you want," he told Ren. "Is there anything in particular you like?"
Dec 30, 2016 3:01:05 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Dec 30, 2016 3:01:05 GMT -6
After some deliberation, Ren gestured to a black tea; the label said it tasted like lychee fruit, one of her favourites. "If you please," she said with a smile. As Johar busied himself with preparations, the acolyte took another look around the room. She settled into a comfortable spot, and let the aroma of the tea calm her nerves.
She had done a lot of thinking the past few days, mostly about Hangetsu. For a long time, she had wondered if it was her fault, that Hangetsu had no idea where she was and therefore he had no idea where to look. Her reluctance to even step foot in the city was a guilty weight on her chest — what if Hangetsu was looking for her only within city limits, and had given up after not finding her? But about six months after she escaped, she finally mustered the courage to pick up a 'phone and call his apartment.
The operator on the other end had paused for a little while, and Ren could here the soft metallic clicking of connectors being inserted into the appropriate areas. The disembodied voice finally crackled to life, only to tell her that the telephone service for the number she had requested had been disconnected due to disuse. She had hoped that it was because he had moved, or he had been busy with working and had no need of a phone, or something.
But after she met Johar, it sunk in just how long she'd been away. The city recovered from the attacks as much as it could in a year, and still no word from Hangetsu.
As she waited for the day to visit with Johar, she made up her mind.
When Johar brought over the tea she looked up with a small smile. "Thank you," she murmured. But she put the cup down immediately, and looked at her new friend with a small smile.
"You've been unceasingly kind to me, even though we hardly know each other... but I was wondering if I could ask you a favour." Ren took a deep breath; when she exhaled, words came pouring out like a water out of a dam.
"Canyougowmetomyfriendsous?"
Anonymous
Dec 30, 2016 15:52:04 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Dec 30, 2016 15:52:04 GMT -6
Johar watched as Ren browsed his tea selection. She selected one, and he nodded as she presented it to him. "Interesting," he said. "Don't think I've tried this one before. Looking forward to it." Taking the tea, he walked toward the back of his shop and into his living space. His kitchen was too small to count as its own room, and was really just an extension of the living room. Still, it would suit his purposes just fine. His teapot, a sturdy clay model painted with blue images of lotus flowers, and set it on the stove. He turned the gas on, listening for the telltale "hiss," then reached for a box of matches he always kept nearby. While one hand moved to light the stove, the other reached to fill the teapot with water. He managed to accomplish both without burning himself, and sighing with relief, he set the pot to boil.
While he waited for the pot to boil, Johar busied himself with tidying up a bit, just in case Ren came back here. He wasn't a messy person, necessarily, but tended to start things and then not finish them, leaving his supplies out to come back to later. His most recent project, inspired by his recent work on Ren's sash, was a scarf. He'd started knitting it a few days prior, but was having difficulty. Right now he had less of a scarf and more of a pile of blue and silver wool. He planned to tackle it again soon, but right now he placed it in a closet and closed the door on his shame. Next he turned to some medical supplies he'd left out on a table after a late night spent tending to a dock worker who'd lost a fight. As he put those away in a cabinet, he shook his head. It was impossible to completely avoid getting hurt—accidents happened, after all—but he would never understand those who actively sought conflict out. He could see that there was glory to be earned in victory, but was it worth it? He'd much rather pursue success that didn't require broken bones.
As he straightened up from the cabinet, Johar saw steam rising from the kettle. He moved back to it and, opening the tea Ren had chosen, picked out several leaves and added them to the water. As the tea steeped, the scent of lychee began to fill the air. It was pleasant, and Johar took a moment to enjoy it as he removed the leaves and reached for two cups and a serving tray. He poured the tea, then, carefully holding onto both sides of the tray, came back out to where Ren waited at a small table in a corner of the shop.
"You're welcome," he responded when Ren thanked him for the tea. He reached for his cup, but had barely taken a sip when Ren spoke again. He blushed when she called him "unceasingly kind," looking down at his cup. He waited patiently for her to ask her favor, but just stared blankly when she did. He tried to parse her words, but couldn't make head or tail of them. He caught the word "friend," but that was about it. Frowning slightly, he spoke. "I'm sorry, Ren. I'm happy to do whatever you need, but I have no idea what you just said."
Jan 3, 2017 3:56:24 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Jan 3, 2017 3:56:24 GMT -6
Ren flushed. "M-my friend!" she stammered, fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands. "Can you — can you — you help me look for h-him! At his house!"
The embarrassment was overwhelming. She sunk her head into her arms, face in the table. "Sorry," she said, her voice muffled through the table and her robes. Intrusive thoughts berated her: you're asking too much of him! He's not going to help you! but she grit her teeth and tried to steel herself against them. She had to know if Hangetsu was still around. She had to. She couldn't just wait indefinitely for him to come back, hoping for someone who left... or was no longer alive.
Anonymous
Jan 3, 2017 21:18:25 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2017 21:18:25 GMT -6
It was difficult for Johar not to smile, just a little, at how flustered Ren seemed. The way she was acting, he had expected an impossible request. But all she wanted was for him to try to help her find her friend. That was simple enough. Yet here she was, head on the table like she'd just asked him to fight a war for her. The way she talked about her friend, it sounded as though thinking of him was difficult for her, but it shouldn't be this hard to ask for a simple favor involving him.
Setting his teacup gently on the table, Johar bent down until his chin rested on the table. Ren's face was still hidden from view, but if she were to look up, he wanted to be able to converse on the same level. "You don't have to apologize," he told her. "Of course I'll help you look for him." He paused for a moment. "Are you sure his house is the best place to start, though? You told me he's a police officer…wouldn't it make more sense to try the nearest police station first?"
Jan 6, 2017 16:20:37 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Jan 6, 2017 16:20:37 GMT -6
Ren shook her head, her braid and stray hairs flying. "No," she said confidently. "I'm not — not — not trying to see if he's home." How to explain...? She wrung her hands. "He lives in a little apartment over a jazz lounge. His telephone was disconnected. Looking at a police station will be a waste of time — red tape, perhaps there was trouble, perhaps there is no information. Hanget — my friend would never leave his home in disrepair." She knew her words and thoughts were disjointed, but she couldn't string together a cohesive narrative.
"There is an altar," she added. "For his grandfather."
House altars were no small matter. Used to remember the dearly departed, most homes with an altar spoke to the spirit of the deceased person on a daily basis, leaving offerings of prayer, rice, and incense to send the love and comforts of home to the loved one in the Spirit World. Hangetsu's grandfather, for whom he had been named, had been a driving and influential force in his life. She had only known Hangetsu for a year, but she knew he would never willingly abandon the altar, even if he didn't always stop to say hello to his grandfather.
Anonymous
Jan 7, 2017 15:27:18 GMT -6
Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2017 15:27:18 GMT -6
Johar sat back as Ren figured out her words, sipping his tea. He was familiar with how it felt not to know how to say what was in his head, and would wait for Ren to piece it together. It took her some time, but eventually he got what she was saying. It was strange, he had to admit, that she was basing her theory on her friend's predilection toward cleanliness. When she mentioned the altar, though, things clicked together a bit more. While he'd never had one at his home, he understood the importance of altars to those who had them. If the altar was still in that apartment, then surely Ren's friend was still around.
Johar set his cup down gently before responding. "I think I understand what you're saying," he said. "I can't imagine he'd willingly leave the altar somewhere he wasn't at least going to keep visiting." He scratched at his cheek as he thought for a moment. "When did you want to go over to his apartment? It's early enough in the day that we could probably go today, if it's not far."
Jan 10, 2017 4:14:10 GMT -6
Post by Ren on Jan 10, 2017 4:14:10 GMT -6
She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" she exclaimed, relieved Johar understood. "Yes, exactly. He's not really... fastidious, if you know what I mean, but there's a difference between that and a year's worth of dust." The woman grinned at her friend, beaming. "One way or another, his home will have the answers."
When Johar asked if she wanted to look today, she hesitated. She hadn't exactly had a time frame when she asked, and the idea of doing it right at this very moment was harrowing. She took a deep breath before answering: "Perhaps in a little while, after — after — after I've had time to get the chill out of my bones."
Closing her eyes, Ren sipped her tea. "Wow, this is really good!" she said, looking down in surprise — or were her eyes just magnified by her lenses? — at the semi-clear liquid. A little tea leaf swam in her drink, missed by the tea filter. She looked at it closely; it was stem-up. A good omen. She wasn't gifted with foresight or any powers of divination, so to assume that the good omen meant Hangetsu would be safe and sound was folly. Instead, she would cross her fingers and hope that the omen meant the time was right with her to press onward and find out for certain.
—
When the they had finished warming back up, Ren led the way to Hangetsu's flat. She flagged down a taxi: the Dragon Flats district was all the way on the opposite end of the city, and there was no way she was up to walking the entire way in this cold. "Lemurland," she said, her voice slightly quavery. The driver gave her an odd sort of look, but seemed to think better of what he wanted to say.
She was silent on the car ride over, her hands nervously clenching and unclenching her sash; it was truly a testament to Johar's sewing abilities that the tear did not resurface. The driver, to his credit, seemed to sense the atmosphere in the air and was unusually silent for a cabbie.
As the cab pulled up to the old jazz lounge, Ren let out a little cry of dismay. She barely heard the driver's fee as she shoved yuans at him and clambered out of the vehicle. There were boards up on the windows with a small little "closed for renovations" sign hung by a string off a nail in the door. She remembered with a jolt that the phone number Hangetsu gave her belonged to the lounge. Against her will, a spark of hope flared to life.
A little old man was sweeping the steps leading up to the lounge.
"Excuse me, sir? Sir?"
The old man looked up, and faint recognition lit up his eyes.
"You're the little lady who used to come visit the feller upstairs, aintcha?" the old man wheezed with a chuckle. "It's been a while. The lounge is gettin' a lil' face lift! Got a little scuffed up in the battle. It's taking a while, since the owner's paying for it all out of pocket but she'll be right soon 'nuff." He patted the door affectionately.
Ren could barely hide her impatience. "Hello sir," she said tersely. "May I go upstairs?"
The old man paused and studied her for a minute, his face blank. Then he reached into his pockets and handed her a ring of keys. "It's the one with the red string on it. Go 'round back and up the stairs."
She grabbed the keys and followed instructions as fast as her feet would carry her, Johar forgotten. Her hands trembled as she put key to lock, fumbling several times before hearing a loud CLICK.
The upstairs door was unlocked, but jammed. Disuse her brain told her. Summoning strength she didn't know she had, she rammed her shoulder into the door repeatedly until it finally gave way with a loud groan. Ren stumbled inside, and nearly choked on the cloud of dust she kicked up.
The room was fully furnished, but untouched. She turned toward the altar. Several inches of dust covered it. It was impossible that anyone had been here in recent history.
Ren didn't hear Johar come into the room, or feel the keys slide out of her hand and onto the floor.
