do you take sugar with your tea? [diya, tarot reading] or your tea with sugar?

[ROSEMARY]

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Rain tapped on the treehouse’s roof like little rat paws. On days like today—despite how common they were for the Typhoon’s tropical island home—the ocelot preferred to stay indoors away from the wet mess. She considered her treehouse a little island in the storm, a dry oasis above the waterlogged children and determined hunters. In her times of extreme isolation, the witch might spend entire weeks sequestered in her treehouse without even once setting paw on the land below.

As the ocelot stirred honey into her cup of tea, she decided today would be one of those days. The peppermint scent reminded her of simpler times, when Pincher’d still been alive and Coldblue often paid her a visit for magic lessons. She sighed into a paw, tapped the spoon telekinetically against the cup, and inhaled the delicate aroma—

Thunder jolted her and the treehouse, quivering her teacup and jostling the drying herbs on the floor. The ocelot froze, four eyes wide and unblinking, until she realized the treehouse had, in fact, not been hit by lightning. She breathed a sigh of relief—she didn’t think she could take rebuilding and moving into another treehouse after lightning struck her home for a second time--and glanced at the door. It’d creaked open.

Her amber-orange eyes narrowed a tad suspiciously, but the witch knew a sign when she saw one. Rosemary sighed, forked tail flicking, and poured another cup of tea. Her smaller pair of eyes glanced at the Tarot cards, and she neatly slipped her personal reading back into the deck. When her visitor arrives, she will find the door half-open, her arrival almost anticipated.

Rosemary telekinetically shuffled her Tarot deck and poured a second cup of tea.

[member=1149]Diya F.M.[/member]

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PEACEFALL

peace comes at dawn, but yours comes at night

[Simon F.M.]

Diya wasn't sure what pushed her to visit Rosemary today, especially with the rain that poured down upon their heads like an unwavering warning. She wasn't closely acquainted with the sage, nothing more than a familial bond that was soon to be solidified. Her wedding was swiftly approaching, something that both pleased her and startled her. She was a wanderer at heart, a part of her longing for the sea and shores far distant. An urge she wouldn't pursue but, one that sat heavy in her chest. She held solid loyalty to her home, to her family, but she couldn't help the wanting way she gazed out upon the sea. Perhaps it had to do with how unfinished she felt, blank spots that grew wider in her memory, events slipping under as her sight slowly faded.

The future was something that always puzzled the vampire; how was she to think of the future when she lacked so much of her past? Her fading sight had begun to concern her, something she feared to be a side effect of her muddled blood, something she feared would be passed onto her children. She already felt such guilt about passing her vampire lineage onto them, would this be another thing to haunt her? The rain pounded down upon her shoulders as she walked, deep within her thoughts. The thunder shook her to her core but she remained standing, pale eyes lifting to the darkened sky, the sound of waves crashing as the sea surged echoing in her ears.

A snarl, seemingly a challenge to the sky, left her as she lowered her head, stalking forward through the trees, eyes squinted as she navigated the underbrush. As sure as the rain soaking her fur, a treehouse came into view. Grateful for the reprieve, she would climb her way to the small porch, shaking the rain from her fur. She gently a claw against the door, surprised when it swung open. Peering in, she raised a brow as she laid eyes upon Rosemary. "May I come in?" she asked, feeling the wind bat at her tail like a kitten.

[ROSEMARY]

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In the aoristic space between the door creaking open and Diya’s entrance, the witch meditated amongst the sounds of water dripping into bowls on the windowsill and the shuffling cards. Rosemary blinked her eyes open at Diya’s voice, a touch surprised the privateer stepped in. But, she supposed, it was inevitable that she would have a proper conversation with Roxanne’s bride; rankly, she was surprised they hadn’t properly talked earlier.

“Of course, it’s open.” The cards settled on the table, and she gestured at the second cup of tea. “Make yourself comfortable. But dry off, please, there’s an old quilt by the door for that purpose. Damp cushions smell dreadful.”

Rosemary sipped her tea, patient no matter how long it took for the vampire to settle in. Once her future sister-in-law entered, she motioned a paw and caused the door to gently squeeze shut and the latch click into place. The procellous weather belonged outside, behind the door and drawn curtains. In place of natural light, she’d already lit several candles in the treehouse—most hang overhead in metal pans, where others might’ve hung potted plants.

“What brings you here? Shelter from the ran? Or do you have an intention?” Rosemary’s paws cupped the warm cup of peppermint tea, and she tilted her head to the right.

Thunder crashed, but Rosemary paid the weather no mind, instead considered the many reasons for an unexpected visitor, and she doubted a health issue was one of them—the crew usually visited the temple for such maters and Rosemary, naturally, avoided all that hubbub in quiet little home. No, Diya had a reason, adults usually did whenever they went anywhere, and the only question was how long they’d tiptoe around the subject.

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PEACEFALL

peace comes at dawn, but yours comes at night