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 Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 9:10 am
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Silvery grey Description: Numbed acceptance, desperation, shame Your commentary on its flavour: Knowing that this man has a child and chose not to go to her lights a dull anger in Rojand's gut, an emotion that wars with the sympathy sparked by the feeling of regret and shame that hangs dully over the memory, spiking sharply at the end. He can't feel the man's loss without remembering that he's being eaten alive by the craving, that he's let it take him away from a child who remembers and loves him no matter how long the interval. The conflict is unbearably uncomfortable, and when the memory ends Rojand sets the cup down gladly. He and Amity talked about hurt being important, memory being important, but this isn't his memory and he doesn't want to keep it. He hopes it will be taken from him.
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 8:01 pm
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Grey Description: Diverse. Contrasting. It makes one want to spit it out because it's too much while being too little. Your commentary on its flavour: He sighed as the tea went down, wondering if he made the right choice to taste. He cares, but caring isn't enough. Money isn't enough. Nothing is enough. Nothing is everything that they are made from. He was no different. They were all the same under the surface, beating colored hearts and all.
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iStoleYurVamps
iStoleYurVamps
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Posted: Fri Aug 16, 2013 10:44 pm
Tea Guest Log  Colour of Tea Tasted: Grey Description: Necessity, Instinct, Humility, Shame Your commentary on its flavour: He didn't like the taste. It tasted bad, either too watery, or much too strong, yet he still continued drinking it, and didn't stop until every last drop was drained from the cup. It was a terrible flavour, not hot, not cold, and nothing that made it overly desirable, yet he felt as if he had to finish it, had to endure it. The memory, though he knew not who, brought understanding, seeming to echo a nostalgia he couldn't place. It was necessary, he had no choice. No one, were they to have the choice, would choose to stoop so low. But not everyone is fortunate, not everyone has that option, and you can only take what you are offered; ask for nothing more, expect nothing less. He understood, all too well, this feeling, and so he put the empty cup down as he reflected, hoping that the holder of the memory also understood. Sometimes, there were some things you just couldn't help.
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Posted: Sat Aug 17, 2013 2:51 pm
Tea Guest Log Colour of Tea Tasted: Grey Description: The taste isn't bitter, but sad, a pathetic flavor that only grows stronger with each sip. Your commentary on its flavour: The memory is cold, the first, Loffie notes, to maintain an atmosphere similar to that of the garden. But there is nothing pleasant about the meagre room, its walls pockmarked and ugly, its occupants weary and the entire thing reeking an awful stench that made Loffie's nose curl. The man was many things, a liar, a smoker, a father but most of all he was ashamed and Loffie didn't understand it, couldn't understand why he didn't listen to what others had said, why he didn't try to cure his sickness. Finishing the last few drops of tea, Loffie's felt ashamed for the man, but also for himself, for judging him, for assuming he knew the whole story. He didn't like it. He didn't like being made to care for people. Tea was dumb.
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![[A.V.]'s avatar](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/8d/f2/221070ca3ff28d_flip.png?t=1546143856_6.00_11&pl=15)
