1965-02-13 - Scones and Roses
Summary: Lambert, Kai, and Strange discuss menus and marks.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
lambert kai strange 

A quiet evening means a quiet cup of tea, at least for the Sorcerer Supreme esconced in his usual spot at the tea shop. Redolent of the day's brews and scones baked, the air in the place is warm and close, not suffocating but friendly and homely. Old Mrs. O'Riley is puttering about the ovens, cleaning up crumbs and prepping dough for the next day.

Strange has fingertips pressed against one of his silvered temples as he frowns down at the book spread across his crossed knee. It's…a cookbook…of all things. What research is this?!

Kai comes into the tea shop to elf it up a bit. His style has changed. Drastically. Beatnik blacks are out, don't you know? Now it's the bright colors of a mod. Pretty soon he'll be tricking out a vespa to keep up with his European counterparts. He holds the door open for what looks at first like a mobile pile of flowers and chocolates, but no, there's a person under there. "Tomorrow must be, like, your holiest holiday, huh," he says to the man bearing the many flowers and candies. When he spies Strange, he waves brightly.

That person has a couple of bags underneath _that_, but Lambert sure is getting prepared. He juggles everything with unfair grace, and beams at Kai "Well, teeechnically Dionysia ta kat' agrous is in January, but since no one here but me knows about that, I've decided to do it all on February the 14th. I hope Dionysus isn't upset about it, but he's probably too drunk to care, right?" He shuffles on awkwardly inside, and then he adds "Now, tea, tea…not everyone likes chocolates! A gentleman has to be prepared for wooing, you know? Well, and for celebrating! Oh, look - that's Strange." HAHAHAH…ha…ha.

The good Doctor is definitely muttering to himself about the ingredient list for some recipe within the book when the doorbell jingles. The only thing to move on his person are the steel-blue eyes that flick up to ascertain who's wandering in this late at night.

Ah, the Elf. He sits up straighter, temple-touching hand falling to the arm of the chair, and smiles. Those…are some bright clothes. The walking purveyor of bouquets and red-velvet boxes? The man's dark brows jump high and his mouth opens a sliver before a huff of a laugh escapes, betraying his attention upon them.

"Gentlemen," he calls out quietly in greeting to them both. "Preparing for the holiday?"

Mrs. O'Riley turns about in place and stares. "Blessed Mother Mary. That's a lot 'o flowers," she says softly.

Kai helps Lambert navigate. "Oh, this isn't to do with me," Kai insists. "I've got quiet plans at home. This is all Lambert. Have you met Lambert?" As per usual, Kai invites himself to Strange's table. First, though, he plucks free a rose and presents it to Mrs. O'Riley with a wink. Cheeky little flirt.

"Absolutely!" says Lambert cheerily, and he examines Mrs. O'Riley for a moment, then sashays towards her - however Kai is already there. Flower delivered, he then shuffles everything across to Dr. Strange, and he declares "One has to be thoroughly ready for such an important event." And he leans in and says "While I am certain that you already have a date lined up…" And he offers _him_ a flower too. But, given that this is in public, only with most of his bulk blocking the gesture.

Old Mrs. O'Riley takes the rose offered by Kai with a soft titter and makes a show of smelling it. "Yer a handsome lad. Thank ye for thinkin' of an old lady such as meself on this holiday. Yer tea is on the house," she informs the Elf, cradling the flower as if it were more fragile than a Faberge egg.

Strange has a fond half-smile on his lips for the gift given to the tea shop-keeper. After all, she might as well be one of his favorite charges and her widowing happened long enough ago that little excitements like this are truly wonderful. He replies to Kai, eventually: "I have met Lambert. How is the…restaurant?" The question slows as he realizes that there is a rose for himself as well. His mouth forms a vowel before shutting and he tilts his head ever so slightly. "Yes, I presume to have a date, Mr. Petropolous, given I haven't done anything spectacularly rash lately." Like leaving dirty socks lying around or walking around in muddied boots or hogging too much of the sheets. He reaches out slowly, like a cat deeply concerned of sudden shenanigans, and takes the rose from Lambert. "Thank you," he adds, observing the flower through tiny rotations of the stem between his scarred fingers.

Kai beams at Mrs. O'Riley. She's one of his favorite humans. "I'll take my regular," he tells her. "Thank you." Always so polite to the old lady. He sits himself down beside Strange and looks at his cookbook. No touchie, just looking. "What are you trying to learn how to cook?" He turns his atteniton to Lambert. "Do you need help putting all that down?" To his credit, Lambert seems to be handling it all with uncanny grace, so the elf doesn't get up again unless he has to.

Lambert glances at Kai and he grins, and if anything, he seems to approve of the general giving of romantic gifts. And why not - the elderly are people too, and people want people. The satyr's ears twitch a little under his cap, and then he says "It is…closed for a little. There was some property damage recently. An attack. But the community is being very helpful in getting me back on my ho…feet." A glance down and he then looks up. He has toes of course, not hooves, but one's family does have a big effect on one's language "You do?" Lambert says brightly "How wonderful. What is her name? It is the 'Wanda' you spoke of taking food home to, eh? Did she like it? Did you like it? Did you like it a _lot_?" What…_is_ he insinuating? Everything is gradually moved across to the table, and Lambert beams, brightly, and then he turns and he gives a rose to Kai, as well "I know _you_ definitely have a date."

"Of course, lad. I'll have it right out to ye," and off the shop-keeper bustles once more. Kai's tea is a little delayed in arriving, but only because Mrs. O'Riley has to find a vase to display the rose within! She finds a thin green-glass fluted vase and after filling it with water, places the single bloom next to the cash register. Aw, very much in the spirit of the encroaching holiday! After this, she gets to putting together the Elf's regular order, humming softly to herself and wearing a bemused little smile that crinkles about her eyes.

The Sorcerer glances up from admiring the natural symmetry of the rose he holds when Lambert asks after Wanda. And the food. Specifically about the food. Those dark brows rise again. "Yes, it is Wanda, and yes, she liked the food. I was unable to eat it due to my…dietary restrictions." He informs the restaurant owner of this as politely as he can, knowing he might tread on delicate hooves. TOES. Maybe Lambert might take it as a gustatory challenge…?

"Trolls tried to eat me," Kai supplies to Strange. "Well, kin to trolls. Half-breeds. Lambert head-butted the wall. I'm going to bring him bees from Alfheim to make up for the hive he lost. Loki was not happy about the near-cannibalism."

He smells the rose he's given, and he grins at Lambert until ther eare dimples. "Yeah, I'm not sure what it's going to be, but it's going to be nauseatingly romantic, I'm going to make sure of it." After how many months of being hitched, he still get starry-eyed and flush as a maiden when the topic of his sweet babboo comes up.

"You know, unless it's a real issue, I can deal with most kinds of…you know, restrictions. Including some _really_ weird ones," says Lambert with his usual cheer "It's kind of hard to turn my stomach when it comes to food." He pats his own belly, and then he tilts his head "You can drink, though, huh? Interesting. Well…oh yes, those jerks." He wrinkles his nose, he does, and his easygoing brown eyes turn a little idly flat for a long moment or two "Well. I decided not to serve troll. But only just. I'm not sure most people's teeth could have tolerated it, I guess. Maybe marination…" Lambert taps his cheek, then he says to Dr. Strange "You can't spend +all+ of tomorrow on one date though, surely! Why not come by my place?" Now that was blatant.

Strange glances to Kai, those expressive brows never falling from their high perch.

"You do get into trouble at times, don't you." A small laugh and he shifts in his chair, one fingertip still resting on the particular recipe he was attempting to figure out. "And bees? Well…that'll be an interesting task, getting the hive situated here on Midgard. If it prospers…I may have to ask after the honey." He looks properly pensive and yet pleased all at once. "Oh, the recipe — I'm not decided on any one dish. I…" And he glances to Lambert, knowing this might tickle the restaurateur. "…I cannot cook to save my life, so…it will be an adventure in intent, I think."

His attention shifts entirely to Lambert now, his lids lowered to reflect a genuine if not suspicious interest in his persistence. "I can drink, yes, and you mean the restaurant, I presume? I may need to. My attempt at dinner may fail spectacularly and I'll need a fallback." A sudden blink. Wait, did he just get asked on a date? His attention lingers and slowly…but surely…a wry little smirk appears.

"Trolls find me delicious," Kai says as though stating one of those fundamental facts of life that can't be changed. Not his fault, man. These things just happen. He then says, "Oh! If you're going to cook, just make spaghetti. It's easy. You boil the noodles, then you pour the jar of sauce on them. Voila. Serve it with a little satyr wine, and you've got yourself a Valentine's Day feast. With a glance to Lambert, he says, "Bertie! You can't ask out Dr. Strange, he's…" Powerful? Old? "Like, married."

"At times? Try all the time," says Lambert "He never does anything by halves. It's pretty near constant chaos with Kai here. I wonder if Loki knows what he's got himself into, really?" He shakes his head a little, and then he nods "I know! I really want to try brewing one of the supernatural mead recipes I have with that honey. I might be able to induce -" He coughs, and lowers his voice, forgetting where he is "Er, poetry. There's some impressive gaelic recipes. ????? ????, eh?" The Greek rolls off his tongue easily, and he then says to Kai "It's that mark. It's why I make sure that I'm not around you on any day the Old Magic is up high - Saint Valentines Day is a bastardised version, so you're safe now, but…the mark is a problem." And oh dear, the Chef counters "No! Make something complex - to gain grace from true simplicity is very hard. If you are not used to cooking, find a recipe with more - but easy - steps. It will actually have less room to err." And then he tilts his head, and he says "Oh, goodness, I didn't know." And then he leans in and his voice lowers, musical "Would you _and_ Wanda like to go for a walk tomorrow?" Wink.

"Spaghetti…hmm. I'd agree save for the sauce. She needs it to be entirely vegetarian." Still, it's clearly something to be considered by how his eyes fall to the far-more complicated recipe. Hey, if he can learn to put a spine back together piece by piece, he can figure out how to blanch spinach. He glances from the Elf and back to Lambert again, still wearing that enigmatic little curl of a smile. No wonder the Witch calls him a silver fox, even if his charm is muted to a low flame at the moment. He acknowledges the point of a simple if not multi-faceted recipe and then comes the wink.

It can't be helped. There's an ego being fed. Thus, he grins crookedly and tilts his head again. "I demure to whatever the Witch chooses to do, as is my wont during Valentine's Day. If she feels inclined to go beyond the walls of the Sanctum proper, I will be present." He shifts in his chair and pops his lips as he glances down at the cookbook again. "Hells, you'll probably see me anyways… It'll be cooking, but not as good as your fare."

"Spaghetti," Kai says wisely and claps the Sorcerer Supreme on the shoulder. When his tea and scones come, he flashes Mrs. O'Riley a dimpled grin and says, "Thank you so much." She has always been so good to him in a world that has become increasingly less so.

To Lambert, he says, "Yeah, the mark is cutting into a lifestyle in which I'd like to grow accustomed. I'm not sure what to do about it. I don't feel like prey, so it's a constant surprise, but what does prey feel like? On the plus side, it brings out the baddies and that's good for my crime fighting."

"Well, let her know about my suggestion, if you want," says Lambert, who adds a second rose "There, that is for her!" And he beams "My restaurant will be open, but I may not be cooking over much. I will be so very busy, you know?" He waves a hand brightly "I hope, at least! Perhaps not, but it is not really in my nature to be sad about much for too long. I think you should make her a meal, by hand, with no magic. Showing effort and affection both, that sort of thing is very important." His gaze slides to Kai, and then he says to him "I am afraid that kind of thing is beyond my experience. I can't do anything deliberately, at least…I can't do things like that. Put or remove marks. I can make some very, er, predictable tinctures and I cook and brew, but…" He hesitates "I don't know. In the past, some have thought I am prey, because of the, you know. Caprine attributes."

Indeed, Mrs. O'Riley drops off that cup of tea not too long after Strange receives that friendly pat on the shoulder.

"For you, laddie," she says as she drops it off, scones and all — she did remember his delight in the pastries! "Anythin' for ye, Doctor?"

The Sorcerer looks up at the proprietor and flashes his most charming grin, dialed up to 11. "Thank you, but not at this time. I'm still content," and he gestures towards his own cup of blackberry clove tea, still steaming and half-finished. Mrs. O'Riley nods and gives everyone one final smile before disappearing back to her work, all spritely delight now.

Strange then accepts the second rose from Lambert and nods. "I'll let her know of your gift, thank you." Manners get you everywhere, folks. "I'll certainly attempt the recipe, have no fear. Still…you may see us tomorrow after all. Or at least myself." One last twinkling consideration and then he gains a rather sly air. Ah, yes, he remembers the mark spoken of by Kai. A shame for the permanence of it. Hey, at least the attempt to remove it had been an adventure in discovering the wonders of the feminine form!

"Caprine attributes…?" The echoed sentence is pensive. "I've sensed your magic before, Mr. Petropolous…" His irises bleed to a brilliant frosted-lilac, a sign of the Sight being called forth as he gives Lambert a more thorough once-over. "You must have old blood in your family. Hmm…satyr?"

Adventures abound! But alas, the mark seems here to stay. Damned dark elves. Kai's features grow serious, and he nods with solemn acceptance. The tactile creature next lays a hand on Lambert's shoulder. He regards him as he says, "So long as you can keep getting me messed up on satyr wine, I consider you a true friend who has done all I could ask for."

"I wonder if Loki's got some magic that could take the mark away." Kai slathers jam on one of the scones and takes a bite. Mmm. "I haven't asked him before." Because that blowing up would be fun.

Lambert interrupts Mrs. O'Riley, but only very briefly "Can I have some of that blackberry tea as well? It smells amazing." But then he turns back to the rest of the group, and he says to Strange "Sounds lovely! Please also understand, I take a 'no' quite easily and with good grace." But he will always try it on for size, or so it seems. He tilts his head, and he laughs, at that, and then he says "If you burn the pots, I will expect to see you then." He waves an idle hand, and says "You have?" Now he is puzzled, and he says "Yes. Very old. Ah, er, only part satyr. My grandfather is one. He's back in Greece. He's one of the originals, so, ah, technically an immortal."

Then he leans out and he pats Kai, and he says "I bet he has got something that can. The question is, Kai - where is he going to put the mark once he's got it off? You just _know_ that is how it will work."

Old Mrs. O'Riley is absolutely on top of brewing up the last cup of the night for the polite restauranteur. Goodness, but this gathering is nothing but gentlemen, something she appreciates in her older age. Here, manners rule with an invisible iron hand. It'll arrive shortly, accompanied by a wrinkled smile. The proprietess then returns to prepping dough for tomorrow's scones, her gnarled hands working the golden ball with practiced ease despite her age.

"Nonsense," Strange replies in particular to Lambert. "Answering 'no' cuts off all alternatives. I am a realist at heart. I will try out a recipe as I can, but…you make excellent baklava — or so I'm told, and my Witch's heart is turned over such things. I cannot make baklava, not without…cheating," and he upturns a palm in a shrug of sorts. "And considering that you have great knowledge of the culinary arts of your lineage, I intend to stop by to pick up some of these pastries. I did wonder," he admits quietly, drawing his fingertip along one line of his goatee, "who had suffused my apprentice's aura with such Wild magic. Now I'm satisfied." He smiles again, a quick little flash of mild smuggery.

The good Doctor adds to Kai, "Considering the potential affinities in magical nuances between the two magics, the youngest Prince could possibly modify the mark at the very least. Still, have caution." Conflicting magics are exciting sometimes, even for the worst.

"The mark might move to Kevin," Kai says, and he shakes his head. "I couldn't let that happen to the little guy. He faces so many challenges as it is." That damned ugly dog, but so derpishly sweet. "We'd have to remove him from the situation. I might have to drop him off at your place," he tells Strange. Surely the Malk would have a grand old time with a doggie to play with! "I'll see what Loki thinks we should do. I'm sure he'll be careful." Loki. Careful. Right.

Kai snerks then, and coughs into his hand, "Suffused." Then, "wait, don't you have a boyfriend? The guy everyone's dating?" He keeps his voice sufficiently low, because while he may be confident in his ability to run from cops and punch people through walls, discretion is still the better part of valor.

Lambert smiles as he receives the cup, and he breathes in over it, scenting the entire thing carefully, his eyes half-closed. Then he nods, and he turns his head, and Lambert enjoys a good mouthful of the warmth. He tilts his head, expression quirked at Strange, and he says "Ah! I see. I can't…we don't really. Control. It. We bring it up, and we enjoy it, but it does it's own thing. I suppose my grandfather would know a lot more. I'm nowhere near as good as most of the others in my family. I got the lions share of the human genetics…" Not that he minds. He tilts his head, and then he wrinkles his nose "It sounds like it might explode or something awful," he agrees, frowning, and he says "Are…should you really ask Loki what he thinks you should do? There must be like. Other mages around. Hundreds. Of other options." Lambert's tail twitches, under it's hiding jacket, and he laughs, and then he shrugs a little "I do," Lambert clarifies "But I am what I am. And I can't imagine giving up women. Or. Well, there are people who are not men or women, sometimes. It is nice, however, to have someone to be affectionate to. Who won't mind silly and gentle attentions."

Strange dips his chin thoughtfully once or twice, his attention dropping to the cookbook as he files away this pertinent information regarding Lambert's lineage within the vast confines of his memory. After all — all knowledge is worth having. His lips purse as he runs through this particular recipe again and resolves to figure out precisely what 'blanching' means without asking anyone…because pride. Still, poor Kevin. Aralune would eat him alive. The Malk likely outweighs the dog by at least twenty pounds at this point. Kai's not-so-well-hidden cough makes him glance over and snort softly in return.

"Yes, suffused," he mutters beneath the conversation, aware from experience in how Wild magic generally gets integrated into an aura. The grin is a subtle thing. Realizing the time after an check-in of the wall clock on the side wall, he lets out a sigh and shuts the cookbook. "I agree entirely, Mr. Petropolous. There's something about having the affections accepted in turn." He rises to his feet, the scrape of the chair on the floor not too grating or loud. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have more planning to do at home." He nods to the Elf and Satyr-kin before beginning to walk to the door. Still, he pauses and half-turns to face them again. "Oh, and…happy holidays." There's that endearingly crooked flash of teeth again and after bidding old Mrs. O'Riley adieu, he steps outside into the chilly February night.

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