Inside the Oil Lotus [ORP] <Ba Sing Se, EK>

[ikeru]

Besides the sparse clouds speckled throughout, the sky was relatively clear. The sun hung high, acid-yellow, bloated, and almost daring anyone to stay inside on such a beautiful day. The air was sweet and fresh, unhindered by the usual city-stenches: the muskiness of excessive amounts of natural body heat; the reek of the trash and sewage clustered along the streets; the earthiness of the garden next door. It was going to be an absolutely gorgeous day, the kind where priceless memories are made, and she was wasting it away at work.

Ikeru stood outside the Oil Lotus, broom in her hand as she watched people walk past. There were people alone; couples; families; tourists; whole groups, and each and every one of them of them had the time to marvel at the beautiful weather and seemingly rub it in Ikki's face while they were at it. This is so unfair! she thought bitterly. Still, Ikeru needed money. The gold she had gotten from the Fire Nation Troops had run out already--

Don't think about that.

Almost completely unconscious of even doing it, Ikki jerked her head to the left, then to the right. She glanced behind her back and, once positive that nobody was there lurking in the shadows, picked up her broom and began sweeping again. Once that chore was completed, she hefted the broom over her shoulder, clapped her hands together in satisfaction, and walked into the Oil Lotus.

No matter how many times she entered the teahouse, the initial shock of how run-down it was was always the same. Peeling paint in the corners of the ceiling, shabby tables, a filthy and frayed bamboo mat with the all-too-familiar tea stain near the middle. Probably the only item of real value was the beautiful painting of the elegant geisha hung up on the wall behind the dusty counter. It looked expensive, but Ikeru didn't quite have the guts to ask Boss Tanaka where he had gotten such a painting.

Dragging her feet, Ikeru placed the broom against the back wall and took her spot behind the counter. Time to wait.

[ulva]

Tup-tup-tup-tup...

Her tiny feet pattered over the ground, kicking up pebbles and dirt and sending them skittering beneath the wobbling wheels of carts and rickshaws.

Tup-tup-tup...

She weaved - or wobbled, rather - through throngs of people, many of whom didn't pass a moment's glance.

Tup-tup-tip.

Se'kii was tiny, after all. Her drumming footfalls fell silent, chubby hand touching the wall of the teashop as her footing became unsteady; despite her weariness, the little girl had a nearly-toothless grin that just about split her face in two. She looked behind her quickly.

Ulva was nowhere to be found. How she adored learning how to walk!

With a tiny crow of pleasure, the mischievous little girl disappeared after Ikeru, a bit more gracelessly, and knocking into tables and chairs on her way in.


Panic. That was all that coursed through Ulva, though his face was completely composed. He could feel it edging just beneath his skin, sending sharp pricks and jolts through the tips of his fingers, like biting shards of ice. Only hot. Sweat beaded at his temples, but not because of the balmy warmth, or the people milling about him...

One doesn't misplace their daughter! That's bad parenting. He had set her down one moment to look at a batch of cabbages, and the next...

He wanted to pinch his nose, but that would involve covering his eyes; even the momentary shading could blind him from any possible glances he could catch of his daughter. Fear crawled along the skin of his shoulders: it almost felt as though the Unagi printed there were writhing against his flesh. If he didn't find her soon...

A cart rattled pass. Despite all of his composure and masks of impassivity, the man jumped out of his skin as he tried not to think of his only child caught beneath its unyielding wheel. The tribesman pressed through the bushels of people, elbowing and shoving.

White flashed against the stark brown of the building nearest to him, and much like an animal Ulva started forward.

He entered the Oil Lotus to the cheery sound of china crashing against the floor. In all actuality, though he wasn't about to voice it, was that the broken shards of porcelain didn't even look out of place scattered higgledy piggedly across the ground. The teahouse was already a dump, and tiny little Se'kii stood out like a snowflake against wet bark, her plump mouth in the shape of an 'o'.

The inevitable 'uh oh' face.

"Ah. There you are."

[ikeru]

Despite the nonexistant time elapse between Ikki taking her place behind the counter and Se'kii following her inside, Ikeru had been dozing off behind the counter. Her arm propped up on the countertop to hold her chin in her palm, she began leaning forward in a sleepy trance until her elbow was in danger of slipping off the counter. In fact, it was Se'kii who saved Ikeru from the embarassment and pain of falling asleep on the job and paying the consequences for it. At the tinkle of broken and breaking china, she shot up, alert and awake and ready to deal with whatever asshole prankster was messing with the teahouse this time.

Bending the earth under her feet to give her a platform, Ikki leapt over the counter and landed as gracefully as she could: slightly wobbly, but still acceptable. She scanned the small teahouse for the assailaint, a testy scowl plastered over her face until her gaze landed on the little terror in white.

A little baby? What the hell?

"Hey!" she barked, rushing over to Se'kii, who had just picked up a teapot and hurled it against the closet wall, where it shattered into huge chunks of sharp pieces of china. Squealing, Ikki scooped up the child and held her at arms' length, as if she were some sort of rabid creature capable of destroying the entire teahouse.

As far as Ikki was concerned, this little kid could.

Grumbling under her breath, the woman began to stomp out of the door, aiming to chuck the kid outside--but a young man dressed in blues popped up in the doorway. It didn't take Ikeru long to conclude that this man was the menace's father. Huffing angrily, Ikki thrust Se'kii into his face. "Is this yours?" she asked, her voice dripping with annoyance.

[ulva]

“And if I say she isn’t, will I be exempt in paying for what damage she has done?”

The tone of his voice carried the epitome of seriousness, but the soft crinkles at the edges of his eyes spoke otherwise. Se’kii kicked her legs out and squealed happily at the sight of her father, as if to say ‘look what I did! Aren’t you proud?’ Her grubby hands patted enthusiastically at Ikeru’s own, picking and pulling at her fingers in attempts to wrap her little palms around them; she seemed delighted at the prospect of being held by a woman.

Ulva stepped into the teahouse and led the door to shut with his hand. This place looked in dire need of repair – but so did many of the places in the outermost ring of Ba Sing Se, he noted. However, there was a quaintness in such places that he couldn’t help but admire despite the ramshackle state; he also found much to be grateful for in the people of this massive city. For the most part, they had been helpful.

Take this outstanding citizen, for one!

The tribesman reached out and relieved Ikeru of his child, maneuvering the little girl into his arms with a casual expertise. Se’kii cooed and slapped her father’s bristly cheeks with her chubby little hands, plumping his skin as though she thought he looked a little to thin for his own good. Ulva chuckled and tugged his chin away, looking over the top of the girl’s head and at house matron.

“I apologize – once they learn to walk, I guess it’s our turn to learn the greater forms of observation.” Ironic, coming from the half blind man. He jogged Se’kii in his arms a bit.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to make up for it?”

The tot eyes him oddly – why was papa still talking? Didn’t he max his word quota for the day? Oh well! She made a spit bubble in celebration.

[ikeru]

Despite the casual joking and almost cloying affection being passed between the three, Ikeru was not a happy camper. Not only would her boss be furious that his teashop was, again, under attack, but the cost of replacing the teapots and teacups would come out of her paycheck since it happened on her shift. Completely unfair, but Boss Tanaka was a platypus bear of a man who could not be reasoned with. Well, there was no way in hell she was going to pay for damages she didn't cause. A bitter statement sprung into her head, running on repeat and growing more and more pleasing with each passing moment: It was his kid, he should have to pay for it; it was his kid, he should have to pay for it; it was his kid...

Completely unable to see the humor in the situation, Ikki irritably huffed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, where it settled over the bridge of her nose, looking more like a streak of mahogany-colored dirt rather than a lock of hair. "Yes," she replied colorlessly to nothing in particular, just anxious to, somehow, lure the man inside the teahouse to eventually stick him with the bill and bolt out the door.

However, things changed slightly when the man entered willingly; things changed more when he practically offered to pay for everything himself! This was too easy.

Guiding the man with the hellish, noisy child to the cratered and dirty counter, Ikeru ducked behind and stood in front, her hands folded pleasantly over the countertop, a charming and pretty smile smeared over her face. She spent several moments looking him over, taking in his tattoo, his frosted eye, his tanned skin and his rather impressive muscles. Something deep within her twinged just a little, which made her twitch her head just slightly and drop her hands to her sides. "Well, I could get you a cup of tea, if you want? You look like you could use one." She layered the teahouse charm thicker than wasabi paste and smoother than bone.

[ulva]

Se’kii reached out and grabbed the air as Ikeru turned away and walked towards the counter. She looked imploringly at her father, whose gaze was focused elsewhere, and tugged on a lock of his hair, shoving it stubbornly into her mouth when he finally noticed her. His eyes widened marginally and an unspoken ‘what?’ passed between the two, before he looked up and belatedly followed the other woman.

He crossed the shop in a few long strides, settling his daughter upon the counter, but keeping a hand on her to keep her seated. He ran a hand along the wooden top, his calloused fingers tracing the dips and scars on the wood. It appeared as though someone had engaged in some sort of epic battle on the countertop. Scratching his fingernail against a faded stain, he looked up when Ikeru spoke again.

He had asked her what payment he owed, and she had offered him tea. He stared at her openly – a smile ghosted the outermost corners of his lips.

“That would be a heaven send,” he said, falling prey to her charm. After so much travel, how could he not accept such hospitality? He brushed his hand over the top of Se’kii’s head, flattening some of her cowlicks momentarily, and looked up again.

“Is if possible to get something for my daughter as well?”

Ulva didn’t have much money on him after he had purchased more supplies, but maybe he could offer something else in trade to pay for the havoc his little ha had caused. Maybe even clean this place up – he may have had only one working eye, but he knew it looked like hell. He looked around again.

[ikeru]

Taking notice of the lock of hair glued between her eyes as a flash of brown in an otherwise dingy world, Ikeru swiped at it until it was stuck firmly to her head. Whether or not it looked presentable was a competely different matter. Fueled by this man's calm air and trusting smile, she continued to heap on the charm she had learned from many teahouse mistresses over the years: be sweet, be accomodating, be firm but subtle. It was all about the balance in the art of web-spinning, something akin to geisha and seduction but only in a few aspects. Cultured and sophisticated lying, basically.

At Ulva's first statement, she bent below the counter, rumaged around the shelves for a moment or two, and popped back up with one jug of tea and two small teacups--one for Ulva, and one for herself. She didn't realize until after she had filled both cups, however, that she had grabbed one too many. What was she thinking? Ikeru cast a strange giggle out like a fishing net, trapping air and pulling it into her mouth in a rushed inhale. That same twinge she had felt before pricked again, this time slightly stronger, but another nearly-invisible head jerk cleared that right up. It was rude to waste tea, though, and sipped at the warm, sweet liquid quietly.

However, at Ulva's question, things changed. Regarding this young, handsome man was one thing, but to please and help the miniture terror over there? Pfft! It couldn't be done. Slowly, she set the teacup upon the counter and feigned a brief smile. "Err, well..." Ikki started another shrug, realized it was un-ladylike, and halted with her shoulders in the air. Well, if she wanted this guy's money, it was going to take the temporary relinquish of any and all grievences between herself and the young child. "Is she teethin? My mom said when I was a baby, about her age, I'd be hollerin and weepin and carryin on like that somethin fierce." Her slow twang was beginning to glide over her words, coating them in something heavy and thick. "She said she'd soak a piece of cork or whatever in some sake, and after suckin on that for a lil bit, I was all better." She dived behind the counter once more and returned sooner than before, a tall thin bottle of sake in one hand, and a strip of soft, U-shaped rubber in the other. "This soft thingy right here's for holding drinks in place in case you get a nasty customer." Ikeru smiled, waving it in the air in front of Se'kii while a gruesome daydream flashed inside her head: heaving a block of earth up into the air and slamming it over the little toddler's body again and again. That would teach her to throw expensive china!

[ulva]

Ulva could feel his jaw pulling taut with the beginnings of that distant smile of his as Ikeru’s voice became more and more colloquial. It was something he could never get over – with his own tribe so prim and cut from the same cloth, it was nice to hear such a medley in one city; he still had trouble getting over the drawn out words, and the way they seemed savored and not eschewed.

“I bet you were,” he said, a gentle laugh edging his words. “You were probably dazed – I can’t imagine a child, especially a baby, holding down even that much.”

He murmured a soft ‘thank you’ as he took the tea with a gracious bow of his head. He held the cup as his chin, lips moving as though with blessing before he took a sip. The warmth of the drink was as steadying as it was calming, and he thanked his lucky stars for Se’kii’s momentary wanderlust. The little girl glanced up at him as though sensing his thought, and then returned her attention back to the counter where she proceeded to bang out a diddy on the wood with her chubby hands.

The tribesman set his cup down, “She is still teething, though I think the worst is over for now. She was never too bad when they were first coming in.”

He leaned over with a smile and pressed his finger against his daughter’s mouth. It opened, prepared to take a bite from his knuckle with its proud little pearls; he chuckled.

“I’m sure Se’kii would enjoy something to gnaw on – it usually calms her down.”

Se’kii reached out for the rubber object in Ikeru’s hand, mouth slack as though in absolute awe of its shape.

[ikeru]

After a moment's pause, the rubber wedge held in the air while Se'kii looked on wistfully, Ikeru placed the wedge on the pitted countertop, gingerly tipped the neck of the bottle downwards, and splashed a few large-sized drops of sake onto the new chew toy. While it may have seemed like an absurdly small amount of alcohol, Ikki kept the fact that she was giving it to a baby in mind; besides, that particular brew of sake was fairly strong. While she wanted the baby out of her damn shop so she could have, maybe, a one-on-one with the man--but only to squeeze more money out of him, of course; nothing else!--she certainly didn't want a drunk baby. A drunk baby sitting on a high-placed countertop was even worse.

Disregarding her outstretched hand, Ikki carefully slid the moistened object between the child's tiny white teeth with the grace and deftness of a mother overflowing with love, and when she was satisfied that Se'kii would not end up choking to death on a strip of rubber, turned her attention back to the man. "You're right," she said at once to his earlier statement, "I was a real party animal as a toddler." A real, honest-to-god smile quirked her full lips upward in casual grin.

"So," she started, stealing another sip of tea and revelling in just how good it was (seriously, she could make a mean pot of tea); "what's your name? What brings you t'the lovely city of Ba Sing Se? I don't mean to pry or nothin, just curious." In good spirits, Ikeru glanced from side to side and leaned in for an amused stage whisper. "I dunno if you've noticed, but you kinda stick out!"

[ulva]

The little girl lifted her hands as Ikeru’s own neared her face with the funny smelling object, but she obediently opened her mouth wider when she figured it was for her. Se’kii gave the rubber U a thoughtful gum, one hand swiping at the woman’s wrist as though to keep her near. She champed along, nose curling when she tasted the sake; at least it was covering up the taste of rubber, and she only gave a small grunt of displeasure.

Ikeru’s care in placing the object into his daughter’s mouth touched him much more than he could have imagined. Guilt bubbled within him like rising bile, coupled with an excruciating yearning for his missing wife. His gaze turned inward, and he saw her standing at the prow of his boat bouncing Se’kii at her hip. He heard her laugh, smelt her skin, saw her round moon-face and wondered when exactly his respect had turned into something more. His grip tightened on the cup, and he lifted it to his mouth to pull apart the threads of his reverie to land back in the present.

“Do I now?” he commented with a genuine look of surprise. His eyes flicked downwards to give his tunic a once over. It had never crossed his mind that he stuck out like a sore thumb – his face tugged into a long look of ‘oh, well, I guess I do, don’t I?’. “I never noticed.”

He rolled the teacup gingerly in his palms.

“I’m Ulva,” he said finally, pale eyes darting upwards. He rested his elbows on the counter, “And this little harbinger of destruction is Se’kii.”

The little girl looked up at him, brows knitting. He smiled.

“I guess you could say…I lost something very precious of hers – of ours -- because of my own stupidity. I doubt it’s in Ba Sing Se, to be frank, but I’m a navigator of the seas, not the land.” A sheepish smile ghosted past his lips, “And your name? So that I may thank you properly for your hospitality, of course.”

[ikeru]

Ikeru allowed Ulva a moment or two of quiet dignity while he seemed lost in his own thoughts, turning her attention to Se'kii. It took alot of effort to keep the warm and welcoming smile on her face whenever her eyes were on Se'kii; it took alot of damn effort. Of course, it was silly to be so mad at a child who wasn't even old enough to talk--absolutely silly! And yet, Ikeru harbored no discrimination against those who sparked her temper, no matter their age or mental capabilities. After a few moments of struggling to stay cool, she swiveled her cool green eyes back onto Ulva and willed them to stay there for the rest of the day.

She couldn't ignore the faint smearing of sadness in his words, and without even being asked to, refilled his teacup whenever he placed it back on the countertop. To counter the heart-heaviness she could only imagine he was feeling, she capped off the warm tea with a few spills of sake, and refilled her own teacup the same way (although the sake to tea ratio was a little bit higher). Ikeru didn't speak for nearly a minute, instead basking in the words and sipping numbly at her tea. Finally, she shook her head, returned the smile to her face, and answered in a voice that had grown slightly looser, "Ikeru. I'm Ikeru." She bowed her head in greeting.

[ulva]

"Well, it's a pleasure, Miss Ikeru, to be in the presence of your kindness and hospitality," Ulva returned, with a gracious bow of his head. Practiced words from childhood, but very much genuine in the low voice that carried them. The wayward strands of his twisted hair itched against his shoulders when he was slow in lifting his face again, but he was in no hurry; he focused on his cup, and then tossed that back, eyes falling shut. He savored the alcohol with a sigh of content.

He could complain and say he did not receive such a calm often, but that would be a bold-faced lie. Se'kii was busy gumming away at the rubber, silent save for her mumbling noises as she worked her way around the mouthpiece. Her pudgy face was crinkled with the utmost concentration.

Ulva returned his focus back on Ikeru, a thing many people commented on as unsettling given his eye; he rubbed a calloused finger across the scarred eyelid.

"Are you a native to Ba Sing Se? I'm not, obviously, but I'm eager to know where the nearest shoreline is. I miss the sea." His fingers fell to his chin, rubbing both anxiously and absently at his goatee, "This city has been kind to me, but the walls are intimidating."

He said it with such an air of seriousness as his mouth tugged into a frown.

[ikeru]

After automatically returning Ulva’s graceful bow with a smooth tip of her head, Ikeru gently traced a thin finger around the lip of her teacup. The pungent aroma of the sake beckoned to her to take another drink, which she did, and before she realized it, the cup was empty—as was Ulva’s—which prompted her to fill both teacups with a healthy mixture of sake and tea again. She met his chilling gaze openly as if both of his eyes were perfectly normal, either too proud or too ignorant to be polite of the fact that they weren’t.

At his question, Ikeru shook her head. “No,” she said, stealing a nip from the teacup, “I’m not from around here.” Conscious of omitting her town name, Ikki felt almost embarrassed of her heritage: who wanted to be seen talking to a farmer’s daughter? It was socially damning, to say the least. After a moment’s thought, she coolly replied to everything else in a friendly and helpful tone (something she would soon reflect on in the coming days: why so eager to chit-chat when she could be hard at work grilling him for money? Strange). “Well, I’m not real familiar with the coastlines, but, um, I think the nearest shore is a bit north a here.” She offered a shrug, sheepish that she couldn’t be of much help.

However, at the mentioning of the city’s imposing walls, Ikki nodded her enthusiastically, disdain smearing across her face and coating her words; the walls did seem to close in around her, and there were times were she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. “You’re right. It feels like a prison here sometimes. I’d leave if the money weren’t so…” She trailed off, suddenly and acutely ashamed of her greediness, but forced back the feels to finish her sentence. “Good.” Since when was she ashamed?