#;t. no (tea)leaf unturned

[justices-blade]

no (tea)leaf unturned // lyon + edward

Reason and Faith band together to put on this month’s special seminar: the history of tasseomancy! You will be learning the “magic” behind divination and how the old masters used the remains of tea leaves and coffee grounds to predict future events. Just in time for the moon of love, you will all be divining your romantic futures from a delicious cup of white rose tea. [Grants Reason or Faith +1] starter for @sacretic.

It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, ice-flowers are blooming… On days like these, what better to do than enjoy a cup of white rose tea?

For the record, Edward could count a few things he'd rather be doing, like not having to drink the tea while stuck indoors, or having that tea be hot chocolate, or be one of those homier grain blends he likes instead of rosy and expensive-smelling, because he's not sure he can savour such a delicate taste appropriately. But also, he likes coffee even less, and it is pretty cold outside, so he gets it. It also beats struggling to read a single page of whatever while a professor blathers on for the better part of an hour, and he had signed up for this for a more hands-on experience in understanding magic better...

Sure, tasseomancy sounded cooler as a word than what it turned out to be, but it's a kind of fortune-telling, right? It's what Micaiah does on the regular. And even if it doesn't work for real (not like he could know), it would still be a cool party trick to bust out later. He's come to terms with his initial disappointment pretty quickly, and is actually kind of looking forward to the whole thing now — Exciting, albeit possibly embarrassing, but honestly? He's got nothing to hide or know about.

(At least to his knowledge.)

Humming a raspy tune to himself, Edward brings the tea set over from the trolley to the desk he's sharing with his appointed partner: A gentle- but melancholy-looking young man by the name of Lyon, who looks positively miserable to be here. That, he gets too. Hoping to help at least a little, he shoots the other a winning smile as he sets down the set and sits down afterwards, picking up a spoon to twirl between his fingers idly.

"I've gotten better at enjoying tea recently, but never this nice! This kind looks sorta expensive. Smells good, too. We're pouring our own cups, yeah?" It's a rhetorical question, so he continues on. "It'd make sense, since it's our fortunes."

The tea steeps between them, even as Edward runs his mouth in attempt at lightening the mood. A clink of spoon against teapot as he gestures with his occupied hand — It's a light noise, deliberate, not an issue over the general noise of porcelain starting up across the classroom. He leans in a little, lowers his voice, a playful twinkle in his eyes, hoping to put the other at least a some kind of ease.

"By the way, if you're nervous — whatever I read from yours or you from mine, we can keep a secret. Promise!"

[zdbztumble]

“Jewel of the Seven Pokemon!” Chapter IV

The writing’s slowed down more than I would’ve liked - this is an insane time of year to be me - but we’re still more-or-less on schedule for Halloween. Who’s ready for some battle action?

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III

FF.Net

AO3

---

The drawing room wasn’t the only set in the soundstage, though it was the largest. All the sets related to the mansion of Jewel of the Seven Pokémon were housed here; the bedrooms, the attic, the kitchens. The production design on all of them was delectable, and under other circumstances, Cilan would have loved to pour over them in detail. At the moment, however, the only thing he was looking out for was any sign of a Cofagrigus, and none was forthcoming.

We really should look into more Pokédexes for our little group, Cilan thought, not for the first time. Not that he needed the encyclopedia’s entry on Cofagrigus to tell him anything, but its scan function might be helpful in detecting their presence. Left to what the naked eye could perceive, all he could discern from the corner of the bedroom set he was inspecting was that the art department deserved commendations for their choice in authentic period bedspreads. Cilan was sure Misty wasn’t having any better luck rummaging through the cabinets behind him. She was really quite good at ratiocination, considering that Oshawott never left her arms and kept trying to claim her attention through hugs, cuddling, and tricks with his shell.

She wasn’t much better than Ash and Iris for patience, though. “Why don’t we just go outside and wait for Ash?” he heard her groan. Cilan didn’t even look up from under the bed, but raised a hand and waved off the notion.

“A detective must make a thorough examination of a crime scene,” he said. “The smallest detail may lead to a critical deduction. Leave no stone unturned, and no tool unused.” He held his magnifying glass to a strange mark on the bedpost; a bit of glue residue, as it turned out.

“Well, I’ve already deduced what tools we’ll need,” said Misty.

“Oh?” Cilan sat up. “And what might – where on earth did those come from!?” His partner was standing in the middle of the room, beaming, with a gold talisman around her neck, a ceremonial teapot in one hand, and Oshawott holding what appeared to be a scroll of papyrus in the other.

“They’re to ward off the spirit of the jewel,” Misty explained. “Here’s tana leaf tea, a talisman from the lost civilization Cofagrigus are supposed to come from, and the Scroll of Life! That one’s just a prop, but all the hieroglyphics on it are authentic.”

It took a lot for Cilan to choke down all the retorts such superstition deserved. She’s more helpful than Mr. Hampton, he reminded himself. The director had – as best as Cilan could understand him – volunteered to serve as a look-out from the drawing room set, then promptly slapped on a pair of headphones and started head-banging to rock music.

“I think we can move on now,” Cilan finally said, beckoning for Misty to follow as he moved behind the set. On an initial glance, the only thing back here was the generator for the soundstage, but it was the one place they hadn’t looked yet.

“You know,” Misty said as they walked, “you wouldn’t be so skeptical if you saw some of the things I have.”

“I suppose that’s a stronger argument than Iris’s ‘sixth sense,’” Cilan replied. “But I repeat – any supernatural event has a scientific explanation, and given the facts we do have, that explanation is likely to be misdeeds by the seven Cofagrigus. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve encountered mischievous Ghost-types.”

“So what’s your scientific explanation for them?” Misty asked, her voice dripping with a sour smugness. Cilan tripped at the question, only just managing to keep on his feet. It was a common comeback to supernatural skepticism, and Cilan despised it – an utterly fallacious, tasteless statement. Of course there was a scientific explanation for Ghost-types! They were a type of Pokémon, after all. Yes, a very simple explanation would suffice for them. And as soon as I think of what it is, I shall return to that subject, Cilan vowed, and kept on walking.

“You traveled with Ash through two regions, didn’t you?” he asked, just to make conversation.

“Three regions,” said Misty. “Actually, I only stopped because I needed to take over the Gym for my sisters.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. It all worked out for the best, but the day we found out, I was so upset that – ”

There was an unpleasant zap sound, a harsh flare from the work lights, and then black, a total and encompassing black thanks to the soundstage’s lack of windows. “Ah – t-the generator must have b-blown a f-f-fuse,” Cilan stammered, embarrassed by how weak his voice sounded. There was a good reason for the cut-out, surely. Of course, they were quite close to the generator when the lights failed, and there was no sign of anything wrong with it…

“W-Well, w-we were already in the d-d-dark about the case.” Misty’s voice was somewhere between a stutter and a giggle. Oshawott was whimpering, and Cilan felt them brush against his left. “D-don’t worry,” said Misty, her voice strengthening a little. “I’ve got this. Go, my steady!” The flash of a Poké Ball went off. It wasn’t long enough for Cilan to get a good look at the Pokémon, but he could tell it was massive. He hoped it didn’t damage any of the sets.

“Flamethrower, Gyarados!” Misty commanded. “We need some light!” The Pokémon gave a low, agreeable grunt, and a steady stream of flame appeared high above them. It was just enough to illuminate themselves, the generator on the wall, and Gyarados itself.

“What an incredible taste,” Cilan whispered. Even under the circumstances, he couldn’t help but admire Misty’s Pokémon. “We don’t see many Gyarados in Unova. And to have taught it Flamethrower!”

“Not bad, huh?” Misty winked. “But just wait until you see this – Misty calls Starmie!”

“Hyah!” The Mysterious Pokémon seemed to know what its Trainer wanted as soon as it appeared. It took a position, lit up its jewel, and shot a Thunderbolt into the generator. A moment later, the work lights were back up. Misty stood proud with her Pokémon on either side (and Oshawott pouting in her arms.) Gyarados was smiling as well as it could, and even without a face, Starmie gave of the unmistakable taste of pleasure at a well-done Attack. Exquisite! thought Cilan. He wasn’t a stranger to type specialists or to unorthodox move sets, but Misty had achieved something unique with her Water-types. “I have a brother who would fall head over heels for you,” he told her.

Misty laughed and ran a hand through her ponytail. “Of course, the world’s greatest beauty is flattered –”

“Osha?” Oshawott squeaked. He looked up at Misty with big, watery eyes and trembling lip. Misty smiled down at him, pulled him into a tight hug, and nuzzled his face with her cheek. “But you’ll just have to tell your brother I’m taken,” she giggled.

“I see,” Cilan laughed. “But Pikachu is quite taken with you too.”

“It’s a price to pay for being cute.” Misty winked, then gave a small, rather staged shudder. “Even one of Ash’s Bug Pokémon liked me.”

A third one of Ash’s, is it? Cilan tapped his chin with his magnifying glass. While it was a common claim that Pokémon could reflect the feelings of their Trainers, that wasn’t universally true, or a surefire insight into anything. But it was impossible not to notice a certain playful dynamic between Ash and this oldest friend of his. Ash and Iris had their banter and bickering, of course, but not in degree or in kind. This is Ash I’m thinking of, Cilan reminded himself. But perhaps…even if it’s only on her end…

“Misty,” he said. “If you don’t mind my asking – when you call Ash your ‘best friend,’ does that really mean ‘boyfriend?’”

It was a miracle that Oshawott and the supposed curse repellents didn’t go flying. Misty shivered, spun around on one foot, and then went stiff as a board, a furious blush across her cheeks and nose. “W-W-What g-gave you th-that idea!?” she shrieked.

Take your pick. Cilan grinned and tilted his cap to the side. “Well, well…what a curious flavor this is!”

“I – I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Misty insisted. Her blush grew even stronger. “It’s ridiculous, to think that I’d ever…do you hear that?”

“Really, Misty, you’ll have to better than that to avoid your –”

“No, really!” she hissed. “Listen!”

She was right; the whirring sound was back. Above them, to either side around them; even right in front of them, where the generator and a solid wall stood, it seemed to come in all directions except below. And the last time the sound came, there soon followed –

“COFA!” Misty’s tools did scatter that time, as she scurried away from the Cofagrigus emerging from the wall. Cofagrigus plural – there were now three of them. Each had a Will-O-Wisp prepared in one set of hands, while the other reached out with unfriendly fingers.

Misty looked over at Cilan and grinned. “If you battle the way you talk, we’ll be here all day,” she joked. It was quite the change from her nerves when the blackout first came, but Cilan could understand; actually having a foe to face made it easier to feel brave. He gave her a wink back and drew a Poké Ball.

“You forget – you’re not the only Gym Leader here,” he said. “Go forth, my precious Stunfisk!”

“Right!” Misty pumped a fist. “And us too! Gyarados, Starmie, use –”

“Oshawott!” Ash’s Pokémon jumped down from Misty’s arms and ran up in front of the Cofagrigus, paws on his hips and head held high. He spared a moment to look back and wave at Misty, then moved into a battle position. Misty and her Pokémon looked baffled; Cilan shared an incredulous look with Stunfisk.

“Osha!” Oshawott hurled a Razor Shell at the Cofagrigus on his right. He shot Water Gun at the one on his left. And he charged with Tackle at the one right in front of him. The right Cofagrigus dodged the Razor Shell, the left took the Water Gun with little issue, and the center Cofagrigus, being a Ghost-type, felt nothing from the Tackle. Oshawott bounced right off it and landed on his back. He sat up, blinked twice, and took a long look at the Cofagrigus – all of them slowly advancing, Will-O-Wisp still in their hands – before recovering his shell and retreating behind Misty’s leg.

“So that’s what Ash meant,” Misty sighed. “It’s OK, Oshawott. We’ll take care of this. Waterfall, Starmie! And Gyarados, Crunch that one on the left!”

“Mud Bomb, Stunfisk!” Cilan ordered. “Blind them all!”

All three Pokémon moved to carry out their Attacks. Starmie spun to the left, Gyarados reared up as high as he could in the stage, and Stunfisk flattened himself down to the ground. But before any Attacks were let loose, the Cofagrigus on both ends burst open. Out from their bodies emerged two human figures with slick hair, crooked glasses, and business suits barely visible underneath reams of bandages.

“Who are they?” said Misty.

“They must be the missing producers Sir Bela mentioned,” said Cilan. “Anyone who gets too close to a Cofagrigus…”

“…Gets turned into a mummy!” The mummies before them said nothing, but ambled slowly from the bodies of the Cofagrigus. As soon as they cleared the lids, the Pokémon closed back up and their red eyes lit up. A faint blue light surrounded the mummies, and they lifted off the ground, floating in between the Cofagrigus and Cilan and Misty’s Pokémon. They were being used as shields.

“That’s no fair!” Misty growled. “Let them go and fight us yourselves!” The Cofagrigus all gave nasty snickers that stood the hair up on the back of Cilan’s neck. They threw their fire-filled hands forward, and their Will-O-Wisps combined and formed a spinning ring of fire around Cilan, Misty, and Oshawott. The flames were so large and so fast that there was no hope of jumping or dodging through or around them, but that wasn’t much of an obstacle. Even if Misty weren’t at his side with Water Pokémon, Cilan had his Stunfisk. All he had to do was call out for Water Gun, and –

The Cofagrigus on the left moved first. Keeping its mummy between itself and Misty’s Pokémon, it rushed Stunfisk with Energy Ball. Just one hit left Stunfisk down for the count. The second Cofagrigus moved on Starmie, with Ominous Wind. The Mysterious Pokémon was thrown into the back of the bedroom set. Its jewel didn’t go out, but it was clearly damaged. The one Cofagrigus without a mummy flew right up to Gyarados’s face, performed Astonish, and circled around as the Atrocious Pokémon flinched.

“It’s headed for the drawing room set!” Misty shouted. “Mr. Hampton! Oshawott, you need to put these flames out!” Ash’s Pokémon was still holding on to her leg, with his head turned into it. On Misty’s words, however, he slowly let go, waddled out, and used his Water Gun on the Will-O-Wisp. Besides dousing the fire, it created a thick, humid mist that engulfed the remaining Cofagrigus and their mummies. Misty scooped Oshawott up and led the retreat. She recalled Starmie as she ran; Cilan did the same with Stunfisk. A roar and a tremor in the ground told him that Gyarados was close behind them.

They found Mr. Hampton right where they’d left him, in his director’s chair with terrible posture while listening to music. His sketchpad and pen were back out, and he was drawing in large, sweeping motions as if keeping tempo with the music in his headphones.

“Mr. Hampton!” Misty cried, waving her arms to try and claim his attention. “The Cofagrigus are here!” The director looked up, gave a quick wave of his own, and turned back to his drawing.

The Cofagrigus materialized directly above him. Its body opened wide, slammed down upon Mr. Hampton, and snapped shut, spitting the chair, headphones, and sketchpad out. The Coffin Pokémon rattled about violently, fell to the floor, and rolled around the set. Cilan had never seen, nor knew no one who had, a Cofagrigus mummify a person; it hadn’t occurred to him that they could resist from the inside. He started towards the shaking casket. If Mr. Hampton can hold out long enough, and if we can reach him…

The lid swung open again, and Mr. Hampton lurched out, covered from head to foot in black, rotting bandages. The glow of Psychic surrounded him, and he was raised up before Gyarados could make a move. The other two Cofagrigus, and their mummy shields, appeared from the sides, circling around Cilan and Misty to line up with the other, but they kept spread out enough to prevent an easy flanking. It was a difficult and bitter taste they presented, and Cilan couldn’t see a ready way to sweeten the situation.

“Could Gyarados make it past the mummies?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Misty muttered back. “He would never mean to hurt them, but there’s so little space here, and they’re so fast.” Gyarados gave out a low, frustrated growl. The Cofagrigus laughed again, floated up above them with their mummy shields, and began to form Shadow Balls in their four hands each. With them up in the air, the view of the far wall was clear, and Cilan saw the controls for the loading door.

“Recall Gyarados,” he urged Misty.

“What!?” she hissed.

“For now,” he said. “We need to get out into the open. Recall Gyarados and have Oshawott distract them.” He jerked his head in the direction of the controls, as subtly as he could. Misty’s eyes flicked over that way. She bit her lip, but she nodded, and slowly bent down to pick up a trembling Oshawott and whisper into his ear. He shivered, but when he looked up into Misty’s eyes, he took a breath and nodded himself.

“On my signal,” Cilan whispered. “Three…two…one…”

The middle Cofagrigus swept down toward them, dipping just below his mummy shield. Misty held Oshawott up high, and he fired a Hydro Pump that caught the bottom of the Cofagrigus’s body. Oshawott leapt up and spun around, his Attack drenching mummy and Pokémon. No damage was done, but the distraction was just what they needed. Misty recalled Gyarados to his ball, and Cilan made a dash for the controls.

***

I know we get lost all the time, but how did we get lost on a movie set!?

Ash had been asking himself that for the past fifteen minutes, and he still didn’t have an answer. There were so many twists, turns, drops, and slopes in the cave set that it was hard to understand why the film wasn’t just using a real cave. Mr. Christopher said it was built in a stage with a big water tank, where lots of famous musicals had been shot, and it was drained now so that the cave sets could go downhill and underground. That was pretty cool. And unlike the other stage, all the movie lights were still around for the cave, and they were on, so the set really was a dark, spooky cavern with shafts of pale light and a few red lamps rigged up by the characters in the film. But that just made it harder to get around in the set.

Another thing that didn’t help was that, instead of helping Ash and Pikachu find the right way around, Iris kept trying to get Mr. Christopher to talk about that Dragon Squad from the war he was in. “Did they have Druddigons?” she asked, hovering at his elbow. “What about Noivern? You said you were stationed in Kalos – there had to be Noiverns, right? Did you ride any Noiverns?”

“There were, and I did,” said Mr. Christopher. After everything he’d been asked throughout the day, he was finally starting to sound impatient. “But I’ve told you, young lady, that I was not a member of the Dragon Squad, only attached to them at times throughout the war.”

Iris frowned and put her hands on her hips. “What’s the difference?” she asked.

Mr. Christopher banged the bottom of his cane on the floor. “It means I didn’t have the eyesight to be a proper dragon rider,” he snapped. “I served as an intelligence officer for the GAF, and as I’m gifted in languages and connections all over the world, particularly in Kalos, I was seconded to units like the Dragon Squad to assist with –”

“Wait – intelligence officer?” Ash spun around. “I know what that means – that’s spy stuff, right?” Those were some of Ash’s favorite movies – the big action films with gadgets, secret agents, and crazy Pokémon battles. He’d met a few people who were into that kind of work in his travels, but it was always amazing to hear more about it. “Did you go on any secret missions?” he asked Mr. Christopher. “Did you use your Dark Pokémon to steal messages and sneak around enemy lines?”

“Did you fly any Dragon Pokémon on your secret missions?” Iris asked. Axew was sticking out of her hair, eyes wide, and Ash could feel Pikachu’s toes curling with excitement on his shoulder.

Mr. Christopher let out a long sigh, looked both ways, and leaned down. “Can you keep a secret?” he whispered.

“Yes!” Ash and Iris hissed back. They were both on their toes, and Ash balled up his hands into fists. Mr. Christopher raised up one hand, his index finger held high.

“So can I,” he said simply. Iris slapped a hand over her face and fell over, and Ash fell right beside her. “Now may we please get on with this – this – is that whirring sound back again?”

“Huh?” Ash pushed himself back onto his feet. “Yeah…yeah, it is.” It wasn’t the same as in the other stage, though. The noise was still muffled, but it was definitely coming from just one direction, straight ahead. “C’mon, Pikachu,” Ash whispered. “Let’s check it out.”

They tiptoed down the path. The gaps in the plaster rocks that let in “moonlight” disappeared the further they went; everything they could see was from the red glow of the lamps. The path ended in a solid wall of rock, but Ash could just make out, about seven feet above his head, an opening rimmed in red light. The whirring sound was strongest just below it, and Ash could hear another sound – a soft, steady chant of “cofa, cofa, cofa.”

That’s gotta be it, thought Ash. I could get the drop on them if I could figure out how to get up there. Let’s see…Snivy has Vine Whip. She could pull us up, but I don’t see anything she could grab onto to pull herself up. But maybe – “OW! Iris, what are you doing!?”

“Shh! You want them to hear us? Now hold still.” Iris pushed down hard on the back of Ash’s head, put a foot on his back, and pushed herself up until she was standing on his shoulders. Pikachu snapped at being knocked aside, and Ash bit down hard on his tongue to keep from shouting. His knees started to shake, and he put a hand on the rock wall to keep himself steady.

“This isn’t fair,” he hissed. “I want to see too!”

“Quiet!” Iris tapped the side of his face with her foot. “There’s three of them. The Cofagrigus – they’re all together, circling around something. I can’t see what.”

“It must be the jewel.” Mr. Christopher came up beside them. Even at his height, he couldn’t quite see into the opening, but he released Shedinja, who floated up to be level with Iris’s head. “That part of the set is where the ceremony is conducted in the story. There should be an opening in the top, with a light to represent the star that awakens the sprit inside the jewel.”

“I see it,” Iris reported. “And it’s not just the lamps making that light – the thing they’re circling is glowing red too.”

“Are there any signs of Bisharp?” asked Mr. Christopher. “Or any other Pokémon?”

Is there any sign of a way up? Ash wanted to shout. I can’t hold on much longer…

“No…and I can’t see anything that would be making that sound – HEY!” Ash couldn’t keep steady. He stumbled forward, fell on his face, and winced as Iris landed on his back. “Ash!” she snapped, poking between his shoulders. “I was trying to see what’s going on!”

“Well, I’m not a ladder!” Ash hissed back. “Or a chair, so get off!”

“You are such a kid!”

“I am not!”

“You are too!”

“Quiet!” Mr. Christopher’s voice was quiet, but that somehow made its anger even clearer. Ash bit down his next comeback, and Iris rolled off him. Mr. Christopher gave them a cool look, then pointed to the opening with his cane. “Shedinja, I want you to slip inside there and have a good look around. Stay invisible and keep to the shadows. See if you can find where that sound is coming from, but most of all, look out for any sign of Bisharp.”

“Shedinja.” The Shed Pokémon gave a nod with its entire body, then vanished. Ash shook his head and sat upright, Pikachu claiming a spot in his lap. I guess this counts as spy stuff, he thought as he scratched Pikachu’s head. It would’ve been nice to be able to see what Shedinja was up to, but it was still cool. I wonder if Mr. Christopher had Shedinja in that war he keeps talking about? He said it wasn’t an actor Pokémon. That probably wouldn’t matter to Misty, though; she’d still be scared of it.

Ash wondered how Misty’s search with Cilan was going. She knew more about all this stuff, and Cilan was…well, Cilan. If they didn’t have the whole mystery solved by the time everyone met up outside, then they’d at least have a clue or two. If they don’t get caught up in all their movie talk, anyway. I’ll probably have to go see this movie with one of them, if it ever gets finished. Ash still couldn’t get over that ending Misty told him. How was it supposed to be romantic if, at the end, the heroine ended up –

It came up from the floor, without a sound. The Cofagrigus threw its four arms out, seized Iris, and threw her into its open body before she could even scream.

“Hey!” Ash sprang to his feet and caught the lid of the Cofagrigus before it closed completely. “Give back my friend!” Pikachu cried out and grabbed the lid as well, from the base. Together they pulled as hard as they could, but the body was straining against them, heavy as a rock, and slick in Ash’s grip. He could hear Iris banging and kicking on the inside. “Don’t worry, Iris!” Ash grunted. “We’ve got ya…”

“HERE!” Mr. Christopher moved fast for an old guy. He spun his cane around and swung the silver Zacian head so that it caught between the lid and the body. He pulled back on the stick like a lever, and the Cofagrigus started to open up –

“COFA!”

Three loud cries all sounded together, and something small and hard flew from the cave opening into Mr. Christopher’s chest. It was Shedinja, out cold. The three Cofagrigus who had been circling the jewel floated in from the opening, each with a Shadow Ball ready. The one on the left hurled the Attack at Ash, catching him low in the stomach. It was like winter air made into a solid ball, with all the cold soaking inside him. He fell and rolled back until he hit the side wall. Pikachu was small enough that the Shadow Ball struck his entire body, and he slammed right above Ash. Mr. Christopher managed to dodge the last one, but he had to let go of the cane, which did take the Attack and spun through the air until it struck Ash on top of his head.

The Cofagrigus they’d tried to open slammed all the way shut. Its three fellow Coffin Pokémon circled around it, facing outward, with another set of Shadow Balls ready. Ash could see the middle Cofagrigus thrashing around, and he could hear Iris’s muffled yelling. But he could still hear the whirring sound too, an awful mechanical whish-whish-whish-whish, and it was spreading to fill the whole set…

The three guard Cofagrigus floated up and out, and the one in the center swung open. Iris stumbled out, her arms outstretched, her half-shut eyes rolled back in her head. There were bandages wrapped around her from head to toe. Axew was sticking out of her hair; he was wrapped up too, with the same rolled eyes.

“Iris!” Ash moved towards her, but a hand took him firmly by the elbow and pulled him back.

“We have to get outside!” barked Mr. Christopher, as he recalled Shedinja. “We need light and space to fight them!” Ash didn’t want to run, or leave his friend, but he couldn’t argue either. He scooped up Pikachu, gave Mr. Christopher his cane, and followed him down the path.

The Cofagrigus and the Iris-mummy were following – Ash could hear their awful laughter, and Iris’s moaning – but he didn’t look back. Now that they were being chased, Mr. Christopher seemed to know the way around the cave set. They went left, right, left again, up, down, around an arc and through a tunnel. A Shadow Ball went past Ash’s shoulder and just missed Mr. Christopher. A nasty howling sound came with a sudden breeze that nearly took Ash’s hat off – Ominous Wind, it had to be. The set lights started to flicker on and off. “I don’t even want to see this movie,” Ash muttered. “How’d I end up in it!?”

Another left, another right, another right again, and up a sloping path. There were more Shadow Balls, and a spit of blue flame that nearly caught Pikachu’s tail; one of these Cofagrigus knew Will-O-Wisp. The laughing and moaning were getting closer, the whirring sound louder. They couldn’t make it – they weren’t going to make it –

“A-ha!” the sunlight hit Ash like a slap in the face, but Mr. Christopher took his arm again and pulled him through the side door. They spun around to face the stage (a little too quickly; Ash felt dizzy) but instead of following them outside, the Cofagrigus just laughed again and pulled the door shut.

“Hey, what are they up to!?” Ash yelled. “Give back Iris, you creeps! We’ve got to save my friend, Mr. Christopher!”

“Let’s find your other friends first,” he said. His hand was gripping his cane tightly, and his breathing was heavy; all that running must have taken a lot out of him. “They should be out here by now.”

Ash looked all around. “I don’t see them. You don’t think –”

“CRUNCH, GYARADOS!”

They came from around the far end of the stage, down the alleyway. Ash slumped down onto one knee, and Pikachu had to push his jaw shut. He couldn’t help it, though; seeing three Cofagrigus, with mummies floating around them, making a quick retreat from a snarling, slithering Gyarados with Misty, Cilan, and Oshawott on its back, was just too weird.

[justices-blade]

On Lyon's word, Edward hums and flips the cup back. The tea leaves stick to the cup in clumps, some stuck to the bottom, others drifting towards the rim. The shapes they make up really are like watching clouds, though, if a bit more scattered.

As per the Professor's instructions: It's better for someone else to do you reading, right? Since you might tend more towards wishing your own stuff onto an indistinct mass of leaves. Still, it doesn't take long for his imagination to run wild as he peers at his own cup, just a peek, then focuses on Lyon's.

Most of them look bunched to the side with the handle, which checks: Lyon seems like the quiet, thoughtful type. Edward cranes his neck to get a clearer look at the leaves stuck to the inner wall.

"I think that's a boat!" he starts, tilting his head and squinting at the jagged line through it. "Sailing on choppy waters... Or stuck on a mountain?" Grey eyes trail further towards the middle, to an indistinct disc. Or maybe a circle? "And a sun? Moon?? Or someone left a half-eaten apple? Or maybe it's a dingy dish. Oh, look, there's a hammer, too! Maybe the apple took a chunk. Or the moon is swinging it!"

Interpretations rattle from an active mind, never settling on one. After a beat, his eyes rake over the side away from the handle, but there's hardly more there than scattered specks, indistinct like cirrus clouds. "I think that's it." he notes it down in doodles rather than words, then peers back over, scratching his chin.

"Man, this stuff is really interpretive. It could really be anything, depending on how you look..." Really! The sun could be good, the dish could be bad. The hammer-wielding moon could be a friend on the way to help? Man, Micaiah would do a really good job with this, he bets. "You want to look at the book for yours or read mine first? I can wait either way."

he pauses at the other's admission, his teacup hovering near his lips. lyon's free hand quickly moves to support it. "oh, i'm not an expert in this, either... but i'll do my best to help you," he offers a shaky smile before taking another sip, the floral taste somehow bittersweet on his tongue.   &   if lyon thinks further back, there must have been a book or two in the royal library that touched on the subject of tasseomancy.

he knows the result will embarrass him. it has to, and he dreads it as his cup progressively empties. but at least, it's harmless, lyon reasons to himself, aside from the mortification he will feel around edward. as good-natured as the other student seems, it's less than likely that they will cross paths again.

lyon reminds himself it won't be another vision of the future that takes one to desperate lengths.

"yes... just for a moment." lyon carefully places his cup on the plate, the brow briefly furrowing in thought. he distantly recalls something about giving it a swirl or was it two, but that might be a part of him that wishes to stall.

with an exhale, he flips his over too.

"..."

he starts counting his breaths. one, followed by another, and then the next...

"...you can flip it back now," he instructs, swallowing. violets decidedly don't look at the contents of his own cup after turning it back upright.

he grabs the book  ——  a copy must have been distributed to each table before he stepped inside the classroom.   &   flips it open. with fingers hovering above the corner of the page, lyon looks over the listed shapes. under each, there's a description detailing what they might mean. not that the whole subject isn't left up to interpretation, anyway.

the mage clears his throat, "so... do you see any distinct shape? or shapes?"

[justices-blade]

At least he's learned when to pipe down for a bit. The silence passes, for him, in relative comfort, as he stares at the darkening hue of the water, wondering what would happen if Lyon just drank all of the tea leaves along with the tea itself. They could just make something up, then, if the other student's reluctant enough, but they have refills at the ready anyways, so there isn't much point to pretending they can't read a fortune or whatever. Hmm, hmm...

the tea is ready.

Oh, right! Good thing Lyon's here, because he'd never know when it's steeped just right on his own. Say, he's eaten flower petals out of curiosity before when he was younger, but are rose petals particularly bitter?

Nevertheless, he nods, shoots another encouraging smile over at his partner, and picks up the teacup (in two hands, moreso that he doesn't spill than any sense of propriety), scrutinising the liquid inside. The porcelain warms his hands, though he feels a pang of disappointment over the fact it isn't pink (it's roses, he's justified to expect that much), but rather a normal amber hue. And it smells of roses. The whole classroom smells of roses. Way to set a mood, huh...

Edward raises his eyebrows, before squeezing his eyes shut, not so much emptying or focusing his mind than wishing really hard for the mystical tea leaf powers to work, gently swirls his cup, then follows Lyon's lead (so composed, even like this) and takes a sip, pausing before a second.

It's... really floral. He's not sure what he expected. Some sugar might be cool, but noone gave them any, so it's just him, this cup of tea, and Lyon. Lyon still looks miserable, now even a touch apprehensive out of the corner of his eye, so much that when he speaks, it almost catches Edward off guard — Only almost.

"Hm?" He lifts his head. "Oh yeah, sure! I think it'd be better if I follow you for the reading thing. I'm..." A sheepish grin. "I'm kind of new to, um, magic stuff." and reading, he thinks, but he can burn that bridge in a few minutes.

Another longer sip of his tea; it's not scalding hot, after all, and only an almost-empty cup can be used for readings. "I'm pretty good at spotting shapes in clouds, though, so it should be fine?"

It doesn't take long until the cup's nearly drained — Doesn't want it to get bitter, if it can get bitter at all — and Edward thinks, at the end, that maybe the taste could grow on him, eventually. Not yet, but maybe eventually. His nose wrinkles at the prospect; He can't go around getting too used to luxuries...

No need to dwell on that, he's gonna mess up the vibes at this rate, or something.

"So, I just... Flip it," and he flips the cup on the saucer with a slightly too-loud clack and a wince, "... And we wait a little?"

some days pass before lyon would brave venturing above the ground, where sunlight greets him. he hurries past a few students who spare him curious looks: his uniform, with its silver and white colors, is a stark contrast to their usual black and gold, after all. & unbeknownst to them, it differentiates the ashen wolves from the regular student populace.

perhaps it's in part curiosity that brings him to a pause by a classroom's open door before hesitantly stepping inside. students are only gathering there for a seminar in... tasseomancy, as he reads from the chalkboard. the instructor doesn't seem to mind his presence, only briefly asking for his name. & before lyon knows it, he's paired with another student, edward.

his shoulders visibly tense when he realizes they won't be reading tea leaves for any topic under the sun and moon as he would have imagined.

violets glance toward the door in a quiet panic, wondering if he should leave, but... that would draw attention to himself. especially when most appear this excited over learning more about their love lives. he even notices a couple of girls exchanging giddy looks.

meanwhile, lyon only feels more and more miserable in his seat as the teacher goes over the steps.

he already knows what would end up on his teacup: misery, misfortune, and many years' worth of silent pining after two people, neither of who would ever return his feelings ——— not even in his wildest dreams. (you were too afraid take the leap and ruin what you already had. the friendship was enough.) & edward is going to see as much.

lyon resigns himself to this fact when edward returns with a tea set. he musters a weak smile in response, more than willing to let the younger student do the talking. & his attention turns to his own cup. white rose tea... perhaps he has drunk something like this in the past. something to go alongside a book he was planning to read.

it's simple luxuries a crown prince can have... the privileges he no longer holds.

"i... yes. i would appreciate it if you could." lyon looks up from the tea water turning increasingly reddish in its hue. it's not so much he is nervous—

he falls into silence, unsure of what else he should say. should he already request they go over edward's tea first, so it will be less awkward when they get to his? at least lyon will have an excuse to leave with some semblance of his dignity intact.

he looks down at his tea again. "the tea is ready." as instructed earlier, his non-dominant hand carefully lifts the cup. he closes his eyes, emptying his thoughts from anything other than the non-existent love life. & lyon takes a careful sip, then another, pausing to look at edward. he hesitates. "we can go over yours first if you'd like...?"