Mona Kemp (palestgold) wrote in darkcarnival, @ 2019-08-20 21:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | c: kit turner, c: mona kemp |
Who: Kit Turner + Mona Kemp
What: Quali-tea cha-ts on a brew-tea-ful morning.
Where: Mona's suite, plantation house.
When: May 9th, morning.
Warnings: Too many god-awful tea puns.
Kit was always at a loss as to what to do after the circus closed its gates as the sun rose. Venturing too far from the safety of the shadows was ill-advised, even when in possession of the magical talisman that allowed him temporary admittance into the sunlight while on cirque grounds, so any kind of adventuring was out of the question. Many of his co-workers needed to rest after a long night shift, unlike him, and so it was rare for him to seek out company during the morning lull that came after breakfast. There were only so many things to watch on Netflix and so many things he felt inclined to read.
So when an unexpected invitation to tea came from Mona, Kit was more than happy to accept.
Quickly changing into more casual attire than he had been wearing for showtime, Kit left his own quarters and headed along the familiar path to Mona's, already knowing where it was from the time he'd walked her there. He took his time, not wanting to seem eager or to creep Mona out, eventually stopping outside of her door and waiting for several seconds before raising a fist to knock.
"Open up," he said loudly, leaning in to listen. "Don't leave me out here to steep."
When Kit had said yes to her offer of tea, Mona had momentarily sighed to herself. Since arriving at the cirque and coming to run her own mini tea empire, Mona had been quick to offer any and all possible new friends tea at any time, whether it was convenient to her or not. There had been many a time she'd said 'sure, come down, it's no trouble!' when it had, in fact, been trouble.
Today had been yet another of those times. When she'd been talking to Kit and Max, Mona had already been curled up in bed in her pajamas, getting ready to say goodnight to the world.
But then she'd offered, and Kit had accepted, so now Mona had to get up. But at least it was in her own suite and she wouldn't have to go all the way down to the van. Besides, she did like making people happy with her tea mixes, and it wasn't too much of an inconvenience.
So Mona got dressed again, lamenting having to put a bra back on just after she'd freed herself of its evil confines. At least she didn't have to put the corset back on. Instead she pulled on her faded denim shorts and a white tank before going around her suite to make sure all of the curtains were closed, because lighting Kit on fire would be rude.
(Since everyone in the circus slept by day, the blackout curtains they had were truly amazing and plunged her rooms into complete darkness before she switched the lights on. Or maybe other people's rooms had different curtains? She hadn't been in many but her own to test this theory out.)
There was a knock on Mona's door and she went to answer it, pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail as she walked. Kit's comment through the door was awful and when she pulled open the door, Mona said, "it's been oolong time since anyone used that one."
She pushed the door open further to allow him access to her suite, the living room in front of him fully open to the kitchen beside it.
As the door opened, Kit's gaze was immediately drawn to Mona's legs. Not in a horndog type of way, though it wouldn't have been a stretch to assume so, given his personality. He simply hadn't seen her so bare before, in spite of the somewhat revealing costume she wore at the tea shop, and it momentarily surprised him.
Recovering quickly, he let out a laugh at the tea-themed joke she replied with and brought his eyes back to her face. It was corny but it felt so easy, so simple, so safe to pass such awful jokes between them. Not like the awkwardness that made up a large chunk of their previous morning meeting.
"Come on," he said, flashing her a playful wink as he passed her. "It wasn't tea-rrible."
Stopping just inside the door, Kit took a few moments to take in the brightness of Mona's suite. Despite the darkness, what with the space glowing by lamp-light, the colours and patterns were all so bold and warm. So perfectly Mona. The smell, too, brought an odd sense of warmth to him that he couldn't help but smile about.
"Ta for the invite," Kit said, turning his head to look over his shoulder at the hostess. "You must've really wanted me to accept that apology."
"You're tea-rrible," Mona told him. She didn't miss the quick look down her body and while it slightly disarmed her, he stopped it almost immediately and so she said nothing. She didn't really walk around the cirque in so little, but this was her own personal room so if Kit didn't like it… he could just deal with it!
Mona closed the door behind him and then lead him towards the kitchen, turning on the overhead light in there instead of just the smaller lamps. The bright colours of her kitchen were brought to life under the white glow as she flicked the kettle on.
"Nah," she told him, leaning against the kitchen bench with a smile. "I just like hearing the compliments on my tea."
While the fluorescent light washed Kit's death-like pallor out even more than normal, the contrast stark against his dark t-shirt, it was a necessary evil. While he could have easily seen through the darkness, Mona was not in possession of such gifts.
Following avidly, Kit didn't hide the fact that he was eagerly taking in his surroundings. Each new surface he set eyes upon seemed more and more like it was chosen with Mona in mind; a fact, given that the suites were created from magic that provided each occupant with exactly what they wanted and needed. Everything seemed so warm, so full of life. Kit couldn't help but smile.
"Are you saying I didn't give you enough of those already?" he quipped playfully, stopping just short of her and resting back against the counter. "Guess I should try harder, or else you might get the wrong idea."
"Without the compliments," Mona said, watching him quite seriously as she readied her next words, "I might sink into obscuri-tea."
She waited for the vampire's reaction.
The tea puns were truly terrible yet Kit couldn't help but scoff. They were awful but oddly charming, something for them to laugh at without taking seriously. It kept the conversation light and easy.
"I'll be sure to pay them as often as I can," he said, meaning every word despite the playfulness of the exchange. He hadn't been lying when he'd given them in the past and he hoped Mona knew that. "But only if you keep giving me more stuff to try. Make a real connoisseur out of me, hey?"
"In that case," Mona said, turning her back on Kit to reach for a tin on one of the shelves. "You should sniff this one." She snapped the lid off and then passed it over to him. It was a vegetal green mix of spearmint and peppermint, with large rose petals and lavender mixed through. "I don't sell this one in the shop, but it's the one I make myself at night before bed." Although 'night before bed' wasn't exactly true anymore, with their crazy sleep schedules. "What do you think?"
Intrigued, Kit watched as Mona reached for one of the many canisters filling the shelves. Given his own gifts, the scent hit him before she passed it to him, though he obligingly inclined his head and inhaled when instructed.
"Some kind of mint," he said, the clean and crisp scent tickling his nasal passages as he handed the tin back. "And flowers too. Not something you'd think to drink but, given everything else you make, I'm sure it's weirdly good." Then, crossing his arms over his chest again, he asked, "Does it help you to sleep, if you make it before bed? I always thought that was chamomile."
"I hate chamomile," Mona admitted with a little smile that said that this might be terribly scandalous for a tea-maker to say out loud. She took the container back and gave it a sniff before putting the lid back on. "This one is a mix of spearmint and peppermint mostly, and I think it helps me sleep less because of what's in it and more because I drink it before bed so my brain now goes 'ah, the sleep tastes and smells are here'. I've placeboed myself into it." She grinned, and behind her the kettle made a click as it turned off, boiling point reached. Some of the teas required slightly lower temperatures, but the vanilla peach would be happy enough with boiling water.
She put a couple scoops of it into the clear glass teapot before pouring the water in, and then took it over to the table along with two cups.
"How was your show?" Mona asked as she sat down, one leg half beneath her on the chair and the other dangling. "I'm still sad I haven't had a chance to come watch it yet."
Opting to play along, Kit took in an exaggerated breath and placed his hand on his chest. "Blasphemy," he uttered, shaking his head in faux dismay. "Dishonour on you from the tea gods of old."
Letting the act drop just as quickly as it had begun, Kit followed Mona after watching her prep the tea, the scent of vanilla trailing in her wake. Upon her indication to sit also, he lowered himself into the chair opposite and set his hands on the table, eyes fixed on the clear teapot and the steadily changing colour of the liquid within.
"Awe-inspiring, thrilling, magnificent," he said, a smirk on his face. "Everything you could want and then some. You'll definitely have to pop round soon. What would you prefer to see? Water torture with a bang or a reenactment of my resurrection?"
"I know, I know," Mona said. "I'll be excommunicated from high soci-tea." She beamed at him, a picture of innocence.
Mona couldn't help but make a slightly wrinkled face at both of his suggestions. "You know, it might be that your show is too high stress for me. Can you actually drown in the water torture or is it just an act? I'll come watch that one if I know you're not actually at risk."
Another pun. Kit let out a laugh, eyes crinkling at the edges, as he fixed her with a look that could almost be described as endeared. "You'd hate the society snobs anyway," he said lightly. "You're much better without them, just doing your own thing."
Kit wasn't a stranger to such reactions when he talked about his show. There was a reason that humans were fascinated with the idea of danger, the thrill of what might go wrong. "Careful," he said, leaning forward and dropping his voice a fraction. "You're starting to sound concerned." Then, with another chuckle, he shook his head. "I'm already dead. I can't drown. My lungs won't even get damp if I don't breathe in, promise."
A beat. Two beats. Three.
"The electricity, on the other hand..."
"I don't think I could pass among any high society anyway," she laughed, reaching out to the pot to lift it and give it a swirl, the leaves spinning through the water. "They'd spot my kind a mile off."
"I am concerned," Mona told him, not joining in with his little teasing voice. Instead she sounded open and honest. "You're my friend so I wouldn't want to see you in pain. But," she conceded, "I did forget the already dead thing."
She poured tea into his cup and then made another face at the electricity comment. "At least it can't stop your heart, I guess."
"You'd be surprised," he said, watching as Mona poured the tea. Once it was slid over to his side of the table, Kit straightened his back and raised his chin, taking the cup carefully between his fingers and lifting it. Although the effect was lessened somewhat by his mussed hair and casual attire, his posture indicated prior lessons taught in the art of blending in with those well above his own means. "If I can do it," he said, his typical common drawl replaced with sharp enunciation. "Anybody can."
The act dropped then, his shoulders easing as he returned the cup to the table top without having taken a sip. "It takes a lot to hurt me," he admitted, his expression softening. "Plus I've been doing this a long time. Not to say accidents don't happen from time to time, because they do, but I can't die again. Only the audience need to think it might be a possibility. That's part of the thrill."
Far from the dainty way in which he had previously held the cup, Kit curled his fingers around the body and allowed the heat to seep into his skin, middle finger hooked through the handle. "This smells amazing," he said, nodding down towards the tea. "I don't think I thanked you for opening your door to me yet, so..."
The shift in his accent was entertaining. She didn't know English accents very well but she knew a fancy one when she heard it. She'd listened to Benedict Cumberbatch speak enough times to have that clear, at the very least. "Did you learn to fake the posh voice to better steal from the rich?" she asked him, amused by this idea.
Mona still wasn't overly into the idea of watching her friend get electrocuted, but he said it couldn't really hurt him and that it was all an act so… "I can watch you fake it then," she said. "I'll make sure to remind myself of the not-going-to-die part. I bet you put on an impressive show."
"You're welcome," she told him with a bright smile.. "Like I said, compliment my tea and I'm putty in your hands."
"Surprisingly no," Kit answered, pleased to see that Mona was amused by his momentary display. While he had never been the best actor, he had worked hard to study and mimic the circles that his sire had come from in order to accompany her through the formative years of his immortality. "Not to say I didn't take the chances if they were there, but it wasn't my main motivation."
As talk moved to his own performances, Kit's softened expression returned to something more familiar; a smirk. "You'll have to see it for yourself to judge," he said. "You already know how much I can talk myself up. It'd be better if you see for yourself, though I think you'll be impressed. Once you stop thinking I'm going to die, that is."
Pausing in order to bring the cup up, Kit inhaled deeply and allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he basked in the warmth that had developed inside of his chest at the comforting scent and the curling heat of the steam. Immersed in the moment, he took a sip and savoured it, allowing the liquid to warm him from the inside out. "That's a dangerous thing to tell someone like me," he said, eyes opening and fixing on Mona across the table. "Give me an inch and I will take a mile. You should be more careful."
Mona was sure Kit had taken excellent advantage of moving through high society. She was picturing it like some big BBC mini series even as he spoke.
"Well," Mona said, "I will take your assurances that you can't die because of already having died, and I'll run with them. I've already seen you escape from handcuffs and found it impressive," she laughed softly, "so I might be an easy audience."
Mona had lifted up her own cup, steaming and smelling like comfort, and Kit's words didn't unsettle her. She kept eye contact when he locked onto hers, and then with an easy smile she said, "I don't see why; I already trust you."
Mona's laugh brought a smile to Kit's face, eased with the confirmation that she found him impressive. While he already knew as much, it was always nice to hear. Especially when it hadn't been actively sought out. "Then I'm sure you'll become a fan," he teased, resting the rim of the cup against his bottom lip. "More of one than you already seem to be."
The maintained eye contact almost felt like a challenge, a confirmation that Mona wasn't as easy to fluster as he had once assumed. Yet her reply was unexpected, a flicker of surprise passing across Kit's face as he hummed thoughtfully. "Is that so?" he said intently. "Then it's already over. Life as you know it."
"Do you promise to sign an autograph for me?" Mona cooed and then broke into a smile, unable to sustain the fluttering eyes of a groupie.
"I ran away to join a magic circus full of things that could kill me," Mona reminded him, taking a sip of her (still extremely hot) tea, still refusing to look away. "Life as I know it is very far behind me at this point."
His surprise didn't escape her, but she was sure he hadn't expected to hear such a thing. He'd lived a long hard life where he'd had to spend much of it fighting, the way he told it. Whereas Mona's life had been easy and she had always come to love and trust people quickly and without effort. She'd never had much reason not to trust people. People were, she thought, mostly good. Even if they might be vampires.
Mona's display was quite ridiculous, so much so that it had Kit laughing openly once again. "Anything your heart desires," he replied, reclining in his seat and watching her fluttering eyelashes with amusement.
The reminder reaffirmed Mona's vulnerability, her mortality, that Kit had pushed to the back of his mind much like she had with the fact that he was dead. It was something overlooked, a fact that was easily forgotten, especially during times like this when the conversation flowed so easily. It caused him to let out a soft sound of thought as he nodded, "I guess it is sort of a big deal, when you put it like that."
Musingly sipping his tea and relishing the comfort it gave him, Kit remained oddly quiet for several long moments. Not that it could last, given who he was.
"What would past you think?" he asked, head tilting slightly as he considered Mona curiously. "If you could go back a year and tell her what you know now. How do you think the Mona of twenty-eighteen would feel?"
Mona's expression said that she'd never thought about it before and she let out a forced breath between tight lips. "I dunno," she finally said. "I already knew there was stuff in the world I didn't know about, just not what it was exactly. I think," Mona said, "past me might be more surprised by how social I am now than the literal sea monsters and demons and fox spirits I'm working with." It was almost laughable. "Back home I only really talked to my family most days, or the few customers who came to my van."
It was somewhat comforting, to get back into a routine. Mona was now the one who seemed taken aback, albeit slightly, which made Kit chuckle to himself. "You are taking to the supernatural surprisingly well," he said, inclining his cup towards her. "I don't think I was that calm. Though I guess I can't complain, all things considered."
The fact that she seemed to be downplaying what must have been a jarring experience only added to the fondness for her that was growing inside of Kit. He found it difficult to think of Mona not having many friends during her life before coming to the circus, given how quickly he had come to like her. It seemed that most others in the troupe felt the same way too.
"Then it's a good thing you found us," he said, smiling faintly at her over the rim of his cup. "For you and for us."
"Yeah, but you didn't know about anything except humans," Mona reminded him. "I already knew that there were magic people in the world, who could do amazing things. And I knew that other people didn't know that, so I had an upper hand on human you." Maybe vampires were a surprise, but only in their entirety. If she broke it down into the things he could do, Mona already knew other people who could mesmerize or were super strong. Those feats weren't surprising.
It was a sweet thing to say, although she was pretty sure the circus was giving more to her than she was giving to it. But… it had also terrified her to some extent. Maybe they were even now.
"How's the tea?" she asked him, because that was a nice way to sidestep what might almost become a compliment.
What Mona said was true; Kit had no idea that anything supernatural had existed until he had clawed his way out of his own grave after being turned into a vampire. Even then, it had taken many years to discover the full extent of what exactly lurked in the shadows. "Touché," he said, once again inclining his cup. "But you're also younger and less--" He paused, considering his phrasing carefully. He didn't want to sound patronising. "--world-hardened, than I was."
Not that it was a contest. If anything, Kit was glad that Mona seemed to be adapting so well. It meant that she was more likely to stay, something he selfishly hoped for.
At the mention of the tea, Kit glanced down at it. The cup was nearly half empty already. "Good," he said, glancing back over at her. "Very good. Just as I knew it would be. It warms the soul, or at least the insides where the soul is meant to be."
A part of Mona wanted to be offended at the 'world-hardened' comment, but who was she kidding? Mona was a soft girl who'd lived a soft life, nothing like Kit. "This is not wrong," she smiled.
Mona didn't know much about souls or what they were made of or even they even existed, but she still said, "I'm sure if I have a soul - or people in general - then you still have a soul as well."
"I guess it doesn't really matter," Kit said, brushing that part of the conversation aside. "What does matter is that you're here, and I'm here, and that things are okay."
Contrary to the popular assumption that vampires dwelled upon the fate of their immortal souls often, Kit rarely gave his own much thought. Yes, he had been born into a time where religion was more prominent in the lives of people than the modern world, and he had held a degree of belief in a higher power at one point in time. Yet he had long ago cast aside any thoughts of heaven and his admittance to everlasting peace, given his track record for debauchery, and hadn't thought too much about an afterlife that might someday follow his current one.
Still, Mona's belief that he was still in possession of such a thing, despite apparently being damned, was oddly sweet. "Said with conviction that I can't oppose," he said playfully, glancing down at his cup. "If it's in there, it's definitely happy with this life choice, even if it's been put through the wringer by all of the others."
Mona shifted her leg from beneath her so that she could lean forward and pick up the pot, topping up their cups. "Cheers," she told him, an answer to both him having a potentially happy soul, and the both of them being here in the cirque and well. "Or what they say in Scotland before they drink, which I can't do in Scottish but in English it's: 'Great health to you every day that I see you and every day that I don't'."
With a genuine smile aimed at his companion after extending a hand and accepting the top-up gratefully, Kit repeated: "Great health to you every day that I see you and every day that I don't."
Settling back in his chair with a content sigh, Kit fell silent. It had been a while since such a small and simple act--sharing a cup of tea with a friend--had made him feel so at ease. Perhaps it was the tea itself or maybe the company, but Kit was rather grateful to have somehow wrangled such an invitation.