Tenzin’s Mindful Mealtime

October 17, 2025

Date: 2025-10-16 15:03

(Tenzin’s Mindful Mealtime)

[Thu Oct 16 2025]

McShiel’s Irish Pub – Beer Garden
Just south of McShiel’s and looking towards the intersection of Church and Franklin, this cozy Irish-style beer garden offers a warm, companionable atmosphere– weathered wooden benches and tables sit beneath string lights, surrounded by hearty greenery and vintage lanterns. The scent of hearty stews and fresh-baked bread drifts through the air, mingling with the cheerful hum of conversation, and providing All Saints with that slice-of-life ambiance lost in the clammer of New Haven.

Potted ivy and hanging clover add to the greenery out here. A painted signboard upon a standalone shelf is laden with 14wildflowers and unlit candles in old stout bottles.

The sign designates the garden as the venue for: 20Mindful Mealtime (Free Food)| Homeless & underprivileged are welcome to dine for free

It is afternoon, about 51F(10C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey clouds. The mist is heaviest At Birch and Oakwood

Tenzin checks the door but doesn’t look surprised at the next one to arrive. He bows his head politely to Mercy, motioning for the tables that were once scattered and now joined in one long row that makes it a bit harder to get from the single serving platters.

“Red, it is good that you have made it,” the monk greets, in no rush whatsoever to begin. “Eck is already here, as welll.”

Matthew makes his way over to the trio, lifting a hand in greeting as he gets closer to Tenzin and Mercy. His hands are empty, no offerings for the meal, though he looks over the food with an air of interest. “Tenzin. Mercy,” he greets, before nodding at Ekaterina, “Director. Was this meant to be a potluck?”

“Yer majesty.” Mercy greets Matthew in turn, ambling along the quaint little garden to follow Tenzin’s motioning towards the tables. The latter is whom she directs her next comment to, tone feigning disappointment. “Saw this were a beer garden but ain’ seen a single mug or stein growin’ off’a somethin’ anywhere.”

Having taken a call, Ekaterina nods to Matthew and Mercy as they are noticed, Ekaterina walking back over to join the two and Tenzin. “Good afternoon.”

It is but a humble amount of people who have time and space in their stomach for a second lunch. Tenzin enables them.

Quite surprised to see Matthew grace them with his monarchical presence, Tenzin lifts his chin and dips his head respectfully. “Matthew,” the monk returns. “Welcome. Gratitude for joining us. No, it is not a potluck; you need not give anything. Let us feed you, instead.”

He narrows his eyes slightly at Mercy and not too discreetly clears his throat. “The beer is ah, not free this afternoon. But I am sure we can bring out some clean water.”

“Go buy beer if you want it.” Ekaterina less tactfully suggests to Mercy.

Matthew digs into his pockets, supplying mini-shot bottles of fireball. This may not bea potluck, but this monarch is not without his vices, which may be enabling other people’s vices – faelings, can you blame them? “Oh it’s not beer, I almost brought a sixpack of PBRs,” he admits apologetically to Mercy, offering up that candy-flavored whiskey instead, “This has a bit of punch, kinda like the pumpkin spice of liquor.”

“Or drink the free.” Ekaterina amends. “The Autumnal Monarch knows just how to interest the Irish.”

All Saints is full of potential, as can be seen here. A few smoking patrons out on the curb eye Matthew and his gifts of whiskey. They must be familiar with the brand.

Giving Ekaterina a dubious look, Tenzin sighs at Mercy helplessly, “If you must drink, do so slowly and at least hear the lesson first. It can be applied with even this.”

He turns back to Matthew graciously, posture inclined. “PBRs, is this some form of explosive–” Matthew has already laid the groundwork for demolition.

“I see…”

Mercy shoots Ekaterina a huffy look but is quick to temper it, informing the woman, “Ain’ able to, or I would.” then shifts her attention to Matthew his presence as an enabler appreciated once again. “People an’ their god damn pumpkin spiced everythin’ this time’a year..” Beggars can’t be choosers, any port in a storm, which ever saying she uses to soothe her aversion to the flavor does the job and she claims a couple of the shots while ticking an upnod at the ‘Fall King’. “Thanks though man, this’ll be good with uh.. With somethin’, surely.”

Teagan meanders in, all cozy-like in an oversized sweater. Maybe a bit academic with her backpack, but that’s a fairly all-present thing. Someday she may upgrade to a messenger bag, but the backpack works, so why change it?! There is a nod to… well, she knows just about everyone, at least in passing in some way if not proper introductions. “I get tired of the pumpkin spiced everything too,” she tells Mercy as she nears the communal tables.

Mercy scoots in around one of the tables with her prize, holding a shot up to Tenzin in acknowledgement of the lesson to come and restraining those party girl temptations for now.

“I should not enable you.” Ekaterina begins, ruining that soon after by doing it anyway.

“You can use your connections to buy your alcohol if you are not able to get served.” She does though then turn to Tenzin, awaiting the lesson and noticing Teagan.

“Let it not be said that a Montrose arrives empty handed,” Matthew insists, speaking up just a bit, making sure the locals do in fact see and hear his posturing. He nods at Ekaterina, attempting to brand himself a man of the people, though everything about him says otherwise. The cut of his cardigan, the watch and diamond bracelet glinting at his wrist, the shoes worth more than a month’s rent (for most); he’s dressed in the quiet arrogance of high fashion and old money. Influence clings to him like the cologne he’s wearing, the kind most common folk will never catch a a whiff of, let alone afford.

“Pumpkin spiced everything is terrible,” he says, fishing out a lighter as he makes hsi way over to light up the smokes of a nearby patron. “How you doin’ there, man?” he asks charismatically, shaking hands and kissing proverbial babies. The Monarch never actually lingers long enough to hear anyone’s answer, giving the space for one or two words before cutting off the would-be subjects in his mind with a, “Great to hear,” or the occasional, “I’m sure the Court will do that.” Nevermind that it is actually the Temple feeding everyone here. In time he makes way back to the table, smiling bright at Teagan, “Oh good to see you, Teagan, isn’t it great to get a chance to eat with the community here?”

Tenzin eyes up those whiskeys like they were an enemy he knew well. He swallows; it’s more obvious than it should be. “Let us sit, please,” he ushers Matthew, Ekaterina, Mercy, Teagan, and all the curious and hungry Saints in the borough.

The monk briefly looks over Teagan but does not bother to introduce himself. He might think her to be just another hungry redhead. Grunting at Mercy, he pulls out the bench and has to work together with everyone on his side of it to sit. “You will find bowls and cutlery here, along with clean napkins. The staff will be serving water upon request.”

Matthew doesn’t help himself, at least not yet, silent and polite as Tenzin speaks and presents the spread.

Ekaterina takes a seat, not serving herself yet, allowing Tenzin to hold metaphorical court.

There is a smile for Matthew, though it doesn’t quite reach Teagan’s eyes. “It is, in fact, yes. Especially with no need to insist on anyone going or not, yes?” She sets her backpack down by her feet as she takes a seat. Unlike the Fall King she does fit the mold of a college kid (and thus perhaps broke and always down for a free meal) quite well. Her clothes are not ragged, but they are not high fashion, either. They are sturdy, inexpensive: perhaps even purchased from the thrift store. Ekaterina does get a nod of acknowledgement as well, even a small, brief smile.

Mercy drops down to a sit when bidden to do so, adjusting the crossbow strapped to her back and double checking that the safety trigger is in fact in the safe position. Her sleepy eyes briefly skim over Teagan with distant recognition, but then again with so many redheads around it’s hard to tell which is whom sometimes.

There yet grows further a tale between Tenzin and Matthew. Great is the contrast between the humble monk actually hosting the event, and the Autumn King who steals the show. Even looking at their footwear is enough to know.

“Welcome, friends,” the monk begins as usual, and everyone at the long connected tables gets his head-bow. “As another election day approaches for All Saints, I wished for us to gather and break bread.” He gestures towards the literal bread basket.

“In truth, it is thanks to the efforts of the Temple and the Court, and everyone else who fought for it, that we are seeing hope — to deter the Legion from taking over,” the nomad begins with something more political. Current events. “Let us continue to drive their forces back.”

With this, the man opens his arms. “Together, let us eat mindfully and reflect upon that which has brought us together. I encourage you to focus on one piece of your meal at a time. Think about how this ingredient got here. Where it came from. I would be content to hear what you have gleaned.”

with a nod to Tenzin in thanks, Ekaterina reaches first for her bowl, serving herself a modest amount before settling back to eat. “If only more of the factions and societies would be willing to talk to keep boroughs from the hands of the Legion.” the Russian comments dryly.

While she’s here and listening, Teagan does have half her attention (at least) on her phone. The redhead does reach for the bread first rather than a bowl, however. Bread goes before the soup- or whatever is being served! There is a glance toward the fireballs (or what remains of them), but she waits for the water instead.

Taking some bread next, Ekaterina takes a mouth full, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully before conversationally countering the earlier claims of Teagan and Mercy, sharing, “I am quite fond of pumpkin spice myself.”

Mercy affords Tenzin her full attention, but she is yet an impatient youth with a particularly large appetite and each time it seems the monk might be finished speaking her hand creeps towards a plate or bowl- only to retract when he continues. Once, twice, then the invitation to dig in is given and the table is lightly jostled from how enthusiastically she lurches forward into it to start grabbing for things.

Matthew reaches for a bowl, following Ekaterina’s example, “Yes, the Legion is a terrible problem,” he shares with the group, “Fairefield falling was a sign. In fact my knight,” he speaks up, making sure everyone down this long table can hear. “My knight recently had his door kicked in by some Lieutenant calling herself Captain Atilla–” he rises to stand, stealing the show once again, his bowl in one hand. “She demanded either he pay a fine or provide her services. Being an honorable man, he paid coinc rather than his conscience.”

Matthew eyes his soup like he might divine the future from its depths before lifting his gaze. “So I ask you all, when you go to the polls how will you choose? Are you cattle for Hell to herd and butcher? Or are you ones who say no more? The hands that build, the voices that defy, the hearts that fight back?” He lifts his bowl slightly, a toast and challenge all in one, “because I, for one, refuse to fatten myself for slaughter.”

It’s Malin, mindful of how glittery she can be, but that’s about it for awareness, and off she heads towards Matthew. Glinting all the way, she also manages to scrunch that nose of hers as she begins to sniff, but those blue-grey eyes find Mercy and it all seems to make sense.

Matthew seems to have just given a speech, he’s holding a bowl in the air, Malin likely heard him say something about ‘refusing to fatten himself for slaughter’. With that he picks up one of those whiskey shots and sets it down squarely in front of Tenzin, adding out, “Drinks on me today, let’s drink to our freedom to come and enjoy a meal in peace, yes?”

Mercy grabs a few helpings of bread from the basket, likely more than is her fair share but if someone wants to fight her for the scraps so be it, then begins pouring herself a bowl of the chowder while her eyes tilt up towards Matthew once the theatrics begin. She waits for him to actually pause to breathe and gently snaps to him, “Sit yer ass back down man it rude to stand at the table when people are eatin’.”

“I’ll take one of those,” Teagan says when Matthew sets a shot in front of Tenzin. She’s not quite grabby hands, but… It is chilly outside! And so after studying her bread (perhaps reflecting on its origins, perhaps just thinking of dunking it into the chowder), she finally gets herself a bowl of chowder to be able to do just that. “I have to agree with Mercy, Matthew,” she offers in a quiet voice, grinning just a bit. “This is a mindful meal after all.”

Malin heads on over to take a seat next to Matthew. “Babe, if you get fat, all you have to do is fleshform again. It’s easy peasy,” she assures, in case some sort of sacrifice must be had to become briefly obese. “Then I wouldn’t have to rent sumo outfits for our next date, either… if you just waited on the procedure a few days, you know? It’d actually be pretty convenient,” is getting claimed, wholly in favour of Matthew getting fat for a time.

“Personally, if I find them kicking in my door I will be grabbing a rifle my nearest quartz and I will be shooting and or stabbing first.” Ekaterina makes a dismissive gesture, a pinch and flick after swallowing a mouth full of potatoes.

There’s a time of reflection then. Be it Tenzin’s suggestion, Matthew’s words or something else, the silence is telling, Ekaterina continuing to eat slowly.

Many redheads and freckled faces cheer and yell all sorts of hyped up obscenities after Matthew’s speech. Those involved can only wait and see if it will have an effect on the borough’s morale.

Having finished with formalities, Tenzin awaits his turn to take some from the serving dishes. This is mostly because Mercy and several cardboard box renters Much smaller portions than Ekaterina has he. He sits then. “It is alright,” the monk shows his patience, reassuring Mercy and Teagan. “The Irish seem to enjoy this sort of thing. Like the noisy sports TV.” He nods to Ekaterina with that as he makes his brown bread sit halfway into his hot chowder, admiring how the crumb soaks up the creamy broth.

“We need not be more ah, rigid with discussion for this, ah? This is more casual,” he reassures the gathering, though most of the homeless people aren’t listening. “To compare and see why this is important to do, let us examine — when you are not practicing mindful eating, how are you eating instead?” Malin’s later arrival sees a gesture from him to join the dining.

Tenzin has to await his turn because Mercy and the homeless were crowding it, to fill in what was lost earlier.

Matthew does in fact take his seat again, all fun and games in how his eyes dance over the group, especially Tenzin and the whiskey that inevitably gets snagged by Teagan. Another point for the monk still radiating that bottomless zen. Being told to sit down doesn’t ruffle him, if anything, it’s like he’s playing an entirely different game as he plops down, all easy swagger. “Oh, I’m mindful alright,” he assures the group, gratitude in his features when Tenzin does in fact pardon his transgression. Endless zen, this guy.

Malin’s arrival draws out a whole other side from the Montrose, a softer smile, pure adoration in his eyes. He shfits immediately, making space beshide him and patting the spot like it’s reserved by divine right, even if it means rubbing elbows with a homeless man. Literally. The disgust on his face is quickly replaced with an apologetic smile, a quick, “Excuse me,” but one glance at Malin and he’s already forgetting that he’s here with a bunch of poors.

Reaching out, Ekaterina confiscates the single whiskey set before Tenzin. It’s slipped in with the rest as Teagan extracts her own with the kind of smooth action that suggests she’s done much the same with others in the past.

The way Malin looks at Matthew expesses just how greatly she cares about this man. They say eyes are windows into the soul, and the look of love dwells there. “I eat when I remember to. It’s not usually on my list of high priorities, but we do have a personal chef,” Malin explains to Tenzin about her eating habits. “One time, he made us dinosaur chicken nuggets and there were trees made out of asparagus, and a volcano made of mashed potatoes, and the gravy was the lava, and,” she’s rambling along, “Matthew and I had a food fight with it, and it was absolutely perfect.” Now, she puts her own spin on her experience, revealing, “Food fights are simply the advanced practice of mindful eating, really. Because, like, you need to be fully present, aware of the texture and trajectory, as well as the temperature of your food. There’s definitely some existential impermenance when it comes to gravy, too.” A beat. “One moment, for example, gravy can be artfully poured, and then the very next, oh look — it’s congealing. Basically, gravy lives, dies, and reincarnates once in your digestive tract. I’m pretty sure gravy was invented to be a metaphor for mortality.”

Mercy alternates between the bread and chowder, opting to reflect on the latter aloud as the monk had suggested, albeit while still chewing on a piece of the loaf. “Chowder’s good, figurin’ most of the ingredients came from uh.. the sea. Ain’ really like the sea, but do like seafood, so I ‘preciate the existence of these creatures an’ like, their sacrifice. An’ that they taste great.” Profound words offered like hors d’oeuvres served too late into the meal.

While Teagan does get herself a shot of fireball, she does not immediately down it. She sets it near her bowl and bread… which soon has colcannon added to it. “Honestly I usually eat when I realize I’m hungry,” she says, even while texting. “One of those things I forget about often until it’s like why am I dizz- oh right, food is a thing.” Which might also be why, at this evening meal, she’s eating rather voraciously. Who knows how many meals she may have forgotten about today!

Mercy steals glimpses of Malin as the woman drones on nearby about who could only guess what, eyeing her with the kind of fascination one reserves for a perplexing work of art they just can’t comprehend or understand the motivation behind.

Tenzin rests an elbow on the table, but that is too uncomfortable. Too close to the shot glass. He withdraws. Ekaterina gets a wide-eyed kicked-puppy look like a natural reaction of his body. The monk shakes his head. Still staring at the space where the shot had been, he hears Malin go all Gina from Brooklyn 99 on them. The man nods but the more she talks, the more he is lulled into that gaze into the wood grain. “I see,” he safely acknowledges her food experience.

“So for some, it is an afterthought. Something that interrupts you for a moment, and disappears as soon as you’ve been fed,” he tries to make sense of what words come after from Mercy and Teagan. Again, he looks at Ekaterina. He’s still withdrawing, so to speak. Taking mindless bites of his soggy bread, he states, “New Haven is a coastal town, and many here are fishery workers. Imagine what it must have been like when they were catching the fish you are eating right now. Imagine how the fish must have been living before they were caught. Imagine the potatoes in the fields, the carrots, and the… malt for the beer, and the barley for the whiskey and the..” He stares at Mercy, catching her downing a drink.

Kai wanders up from the street and heads over to the tables, he drops down onto a bench and gives a wave to Teagan, Mercy, Tenzin and Ekaterina. Malin receives a polite nod and Matthew doesn’t even get that. he leans up against the table and looks around, trying to be quiet.

Shifting in her seat, Teagan glances down at the ground as her foot knocks into something and leans down to pick it up. “The carrots were quaking in their holes afraid of rabbits coming along to eat them,” she says absently with a slight smirk. There’s a glance up to Kai and a small upnod to him.

“I like to eat regularly.” Ekaterina shares with the gathering after another mouth-full. “Even when I do not wish it. A steady influx of food is important for the body and its natural processes.”

Kai nods a couple of times in agreement with Ekaterina, he runs his fingers up through his hair with one hand and taps at his phone with the other, his eyes roll a bit and he looks over to Teagan and Mercy, “How’s it going?” he wonders.

Matthew takes a cue from the locals and proceeds to dip that humble brown bread into the bowl. getting it nice and sopping wet before he munches in, eating. “I’m mindful of the work and effort that went into making this meal,” he begins, sounding at first like this might be going in a relatable direction up until he says, “and Tenzin’s chef has done an amazing job.” It never occurs to him that maybe the monk cooked this meal himself. “I eat probably… three meals a day, and a some snacks,” he continues to share, honestly, and painfully oblivious. Just as he is to Kai’s lack of acknowledgment. He only sees the nod in the general direction of he and Malin and he returns it with a bright smile. “Hey, get in and have some food, we’re eating with the people!”

Whether or not Malin is aware of Mercy observing her like she’s a museum exhibit, the Swede looks perfectly content as she’s seated there beside Matthew. Malin may be art, but she is most definitely the most confusing kind that should come with a warning label. She takes in what Tenzin has to say, head bobbing along with the monk’s words, and then Kai receives a nod of greeting before she’s looking into her seafood chowder. “I spend a lot of time in the ocean, and get to know the sealife on a personal level.”

A scandalised gasp follows, and Malin is staring into her bowl a moment too long. “I knew this mussel,” comes her claim. “He was a terrible conversationalist, but quite good company once you got past his shell,” she makes a terrible pun. “But otherwise he clammed up in our talks in the beginning. Rest in peace, Sheldon.”

Kai makes the sign of the cross after Malin’s words and briefly bows his head.

There’s a buzzing from Ekaterina’s phone and she sighs. Picking it up, the Russian looks at it, stands, makes eye contact with Mercy, Matthew, Kai, Malin and Teagan, then gives Tenzin a bow of the head.

“Unfortunately, I must take this call and head to a meeting, but thank you as per usual for the thoughts and the meal. You are appreciated.”

Then, already speaking in quickfire Russian, Ekaterina steps away.

Looking up from her phone toward Malin, Teagan groans faintly and shakes her head. Now, now is when she knocks back the shot of fireball. Swallowing, she looks toward Kai and gives a shrug in his direction. “Still picking up the pieces after being… gods know where for a week.” She looks toward the Russian as she departs, nodding after her.

Kai hmmms and asks Teagan, “Where’d you go? Vacation?” he peers her way, his brows raised just a tad.

Tenzin is in the middle of conversation while the homeless and hungry eat without a care in the world. He’s too distracted at first to notice Kai, apparently going in circles over a thought that goes something like, “And the yeast prepared by hard-working mothers’ hands, the barrels in which the ah… whiskey is aged, and the… way the years pass it by as it ferments, bringing out the flavor and the strength of the buzz, and the hit after a bottle of…”

His awareness expands outwards as if seeing the gathering for the first time. “Ah, be well, Director,” he gives the Russian his goodbye. Kai finally is given a polite head-bow, but he doesn’t notice anything amiss with Matthew. Malin’s talk of sealife is sees him looking to the Fall King and back. However, instead of asking ‘Is she high?’ he paraphrases to, “Is she ah, playing?”

Matthew nods along with Malin’s words, looking like it’s more than agreement, he also knows the sealife. LIke Kai his head bows in kind, mimicing his sign of the cross. Teagan’s words do earn his eyes, concern streaking briefly through his eyes but he doesn’t pry here in public.

“Sure, vacation,” Teagan scoffs in answer to Kai, her shoulders rounding as she folds in on herself just a bit. Latching onto any sort of distraction, she turns to Tenzin and leans in: “Just drink the shot. You’ll feel better. I do.” A lie. Maybe she will in a moment once it burns through the carbs she’s already eaten.

“Where’d you go? You don’t look like you got much sun?” Kai asks Teagan and rests his cheek in his palm, he glances at the food but doesn’t yet pick at anything.

Matthew takes a beat to catch Tenzin’s question and he just smiles, shaking his head. “Oh, you know how it is when you have tales,” is the quip he makes, “I also have made friends with many a fish. Though no–” he considers his bowl thoughtful, “shell fish, and mostly octopuses, you know they’re considered sentient, illegal to eat in the UK.” He just throws that out, unhelpful in figuring it all out.

Mercy seems to be making the effort to fatten up for the winter with how much she’s putting away. Now and then someone’s hand will stray dangerously close to her platter and a cutting look is quick to follow, but so far no brawls have erupted. Tenzin’s staring does not go unnoticed when she finally downs the first shot, and she makes a point to turn away from him outright for the second. She knows that look. When Kai arrives she shoots him an upnod, though seems to be confused as she looks for the presence missing from his side.

As one who is almost always aligned with a different reality than most, Malin appears to be perfectly used to people groaning at her in a non-sensual manner, such as what Teagan is taking part in. Gaze narrowing, she squints at Tenzin over his question. “Oh, Mister Monk, you see, I might seem like Im playing if one is not considering the upper currents of consciousness. Perhaps, though, I am simply more bouyant than most.” Or full of bee ess. Or… on the off chance she’s being honest, just attuned to nature. A nod of agreement is given to Matthew.

Nobody can go wrong with potatoes, a humble root that unifies rich and poor alike. Matthew’s eyes fall shut, luxuriating in this starchy, Irish staple, looking like he’s probably mindful of just how good this food tastes; there’s no gratitude in it, his is the face of pure indulgence.

“Eck has taken my whiskey,” Tenzin tattles to Teagan, finding his side of the table now free of temptation. Free? Or is it lacking temptation instead? The ascetic calls it ‘his’ and his silent staring grows a couple degrees more intense when Mercy downs a second shot to follow. His spoon is set down. His elbows rested on the table edge. His face catches the sides of his skull.

This time, he willingly lifts his attention to Matthew and someone and their taily tales. Putting two and two together, he hesitantly speculates, “Are you ah, not from here originally?”

This time, he willingly lifts his attention to Matthew and Malin and their taily tales. Putting two and two together, he hesitantly speculates, “Are you ah, not from here originally?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Teagan says to Kai quietly, glancing over to Tenzin and the others. “Not the place.” Or crowd or… She shifts slightly on the bench, looking at her empty shot of whiskey as if doing so might will it to refill itself. “How’s Kaelyn?” A followup for her fellow student.

“Uhhh good I think,” Kai tells Teagan and he asks, “How’s your girlfriend, I forget who that is,” he admits and reaches for a bit of food to steal and try a bite of.

Matthew turns away from the homeless man who is staring at him like maybe he’s not sure if that question was sincere or not, an expression lost on the Monarch because his dusky eyes are on Tenzin again. “Is anyone?” he asks, motioning about in reference to the City In Between — it’s really only a few months old. “From Atlanta originally, but when my blood activated and my dad claimed me, he did drop me in the middle of the Atlantic, wanted to make sure I had a tail before I got the family name, y’know?” It’s all matter of fact by the way he tells it, chomping into the bread, “So I spent like, a good two months in the ocean figuring out where the heck New York was and learning to, well, be a mermaid.”

“Oh, well… then.. Uhhh that’s good,” Kai nods to Teagan and scratches under his chin, he glances at Mercy and he squints at her slightly, “How’s it going Mercy?”

“I’m from Sweden,” Malin relays to Tenzin of her past. “But I’ve lived all about the world over the last eighty years,” she assures the monk after Matthew has responded. “My activation was quite different. I fell off my family’s fishing boat and into the sea because, well, back then I was a bit careless,” as if she isn’t still to this day. “Also, non-slip shoes back in the earlier half of the twentieth century are not what they are today.”

Matthew nods in support of Malin’s claim, like he’d even know.

“I’m from here,” Teagan pipes up briefly in between bites of her chowder (that she’s dipping her bread into because bread soaked in soup and stew is always delicious).

Mercy can likely feel the intensity of Tenzin’s gaze boring into her but makes every effort to avoid meeting it, or giving any indication of unease. She focuses instead on Kai now, head lifting from the hunched posture she’s taken to using in order to protect her meal from scavengers. “Goin’ alrigh’, I think. Adjustin’ to some things an’ all. How ’bout you? Where’s Kae at?”

“I’m good. She’s asleep right now, had a long night I guess,” Kai tells Mercy and rubs at his chin, “Hopefully she’ll be up soonish.”

Matthew’s brows lift when Teagan makes that claim, offering no correction beyond, “Fate’s a funny thing, ain’t it?”

Mercy can’t help the squint when she picks up on ’80 years’ with regards to Malin’s epic back story, brow coming to knit in a confused furrow that lingers even once she’s regarding Kai again. “Are things.. good?”

This casual talk of blood activation makes Tenzin lean away from the table. He holds it by the edge. The tighter knit of his face betrays how he’s on the fence about Matthew and Malin potentially pulling his leg. His tail, if we were keeping to theme. “So you must ah, have lived the life of a fish, and can truly reflect upon where in the sea it has swum and dwelled before making its journey through fishermens’ hands.” Unsurely, he looks between the Courtly couple. “My apologies, I had thought the Autumn King was named so because you were some manner of autumn being. Birthed from the falling leaves or something like this.”

“They’re fine, I’m dealing with it,” Kai tells Mercy, grinning just a little, “What about you though, really? Been up to much?”

Tenzin waves another spoonful of mashed potatoes as he paints example, “Something of rake a big enough pile, leave it for the season, somewhere toward the end of the month out comes a jumping Matthew to scare the groundskeepers.”

“That it is,” Teagan says to Matthew with a small shrug. A shrug of resigned acceptance. “It’s just a title,” she tells Tenzin, expression shifting mildly amused. Perhaps at the imagery of Matthew leaping from a pile of leaves. There is the remaining shot of whiskey and after a bit of shuffling, she does reach for it and pull it nearer to her plate. “By the way,” she says with a slight raise of voice, “did uh, anyone drop something?”

Mercy considers Kai with a thoughtful gaze, or at least it seems to be trying to emulate that from somewhere in its perpetually tired depths. “Huntin’ mostly, figurin’ things out. Kinda. Been a lotta like.. changes an’ plot twists an’ all goin’ on. You know? Jus’ tryin’ to keep up.”

“Oh for sure,” Matthew says to Tenzin of the first part, he’s done eating for now, and even reaches for his phone to do what influencers do best, take selfies. He’s smiling into a camera, making sure that homeless neighbor is in the frame before snapping it. Once it’s taken the device is brought back to his pocket. “I even cut a few fisherman nets cus like, I was still learning how to hunt fish and that was easy,” he casually shares a tale of his theft and likely untold damage to vital equipment for working men like the ones here at this gathering today. “But naw, I’m the Fall King cus I decided one day that I felt like claiming the monarchy so I did.” Spoken like a man who is used to getting what he wants. Rich people. “And like, the court rearranges itself every season, knocks everyone back down to square one and we all play for the monarchy again!” Go figure, a faeling loving chaos.

“Next time we’ll roll out the red napkins fer yer arrival.” Mercy promises to Matthew, a generous consideration from one of the poors.

“I spend a considerable amount of my time under the sea,” Malin assures Tenzin. “Poor Sheldon,” she exhales out over the mussel in her chowder she claimed to know on a personal level. There’s a nod to confirm the monk’s guess. “And yes, once upon a time, not so long ago, these fish were drifting through the waters nearby. They felt the moon’s pull, and the cool hush that envelopes you in the depths, and now it rests here, boiled to death.” She states, “I bet that felt like being baptised by Satan.” Then she peers into the chowder again, and as if she’s leading a seance, she asks, “Sheldon, can you hear me? If you can, make the chowder bubble once.”

Kai nods a few times at Mercy, “You gotta hang out with Kaekae more, she misses you I bet,” he grins a little and looks from her to Matthew then to Tenzin, “This is pretty good bread, did you make it?” he wonders of the monk.

“His chef did,” Matthew mansplains to Kai (incorrectly), and then glances over at Mercy who earns a smile from the Monarch. “It is the finer things in life, customs and the like, that separate man from beast, don’t you agree?”

Mercy huffs out a breath but offers Kai a firm, bobbing nod while prying another chunk of bread apart for herself. She really likes her carbs. “Ayeah, we not been doin’ as much together since y’all hooked up an’ I- uh, went on my own adventures. Been meanin’ to reach out more an’ have our girl time.”

Mercy tilts her sights up to Matthew and holds him in them for an uncomfortably long stretch of seconds, watching him like a wild animal might just before it lunges. Instead of creating a ruckus however, she clears her throat loudly and tries to smother down some of her drawl when she replies. “Why yes, certainly, lest we regress and become unforgivably uncouth. That simply wouldn’t do.”

“Not everyone has a chef, Matthew,” Teagan says without looking up from her phone. When she does finish her texting, she glances into her bowl with the remains of chowder in it (probably a few bites of Sheldon’s friends left) and considers for a moment. So she dumps in the rest of her potatoes, stirs it all together, and starts using torn off hunks of bread to eat it.

Despite Matthew and Malin have given Tenzin answers, the monk remains perplexed. To such a point that he reaches for an emptiness on the table, his hand a cupping gesture. Alas. There is only dryness. Another sigh leaves him louder than he would like.

“You are not wrong to picture such, Dobby,” he says, remembering that his chowder is going cold. “It would teach us to be more conscious of what we eat, why we eat. It is a practice of ours to thank what elements and creatures were ah, involved in the meal during this reflection.”

New insight on a neighboring society’s workings brings the man to contemplate. “Leadership within yours is.. a game?” However, he finally chimes in to reply to Kai with a humbled, “I did not make it nor do I have a chef.” This much is cleared up. “The good cooks at this pub, McShiel’s did.” Very Irish cooking.

“Well, good job from the chefs!” Kai nods at Tenzin and salutes the pub with his piece of bread, he takes another tentative bite and chews on it, his hazel-eyed gaze ticking around as he listens to the others speak.

Mercy only now had noticed Malin speaking into her chowder and, ever one to seize the opportunity to play along, lifts her own bowl and holds it up to an ear.

Matthew’s pomp falters, his seasonal facade cracks to betray fear in the face of Mercy’s long stare. There’s no denying it, this man is possibly a coward, albeit one who resolutely embraces the fade potentially coming his way, but a coward all the same. That she benevolently chooses peace in this moment shores Matthew up, however, confidence blooming anew when she speaks of regression and unforgivable uncouthness. someone’ correction yields nothing from him and shortly after Tenzin’s explanation seems to be taken as proof that he is indeed correct. “Yes, my compliments to your chefs,” he says.

Matthew’s pomp falters, his seasonal facade cracks to betray fear in the face of Mercy’s long stare. There’s no denying it, this man is possibly a coward, albeit one who resolutely embraces the fade potentially coming his way, but a coward all the same. That she benevolently chooses peace in this moment shores Matthew up, however, confidence blooming anew when she speaks of regression and unforgivable uncouthness. Teagan’s correction yields nothing from him and shortly after Tenzin’s explanation seems to be taken as proof that he is indeed correct. “Yes, my compliments to your chefs,” he says.

Malin gives a nod of understanding to Tenzin. “What’s your favourite thing to ask,” she wonders of the monk curiously. With Mercy attempting to hear from the deceased, she nods solemnly. “If he says anything to you, let me know, please. Sheldon. The mussel of the deep.”

Tenzin scratches at the bridge of his nose as a leg of his bobs under the table. Looking rather ticked off, from withdrawal or something else, he levels a scrutinizing look over Kai for a good beat.

“So ah, Farting One, can you tell me how the Conclave felt when you first defected and then returned having gone for a loop about the ring of groups?” Favorite thing, asked Malin. It must be this given the timing.

Malin scrunches her nose as she listens to Tenzin mention someone who partakes in flatulence. “Ingesting air…” she murmurs.

“Uuuh nope,” Kai replies to Tenzin, “I kinda don’t like how you phrased that, like I went to every other group. And like, we aren’t friends right? So nah, I’m not talking about my personal stuff. But thanks for the bread and everything,” he salutes the man, grins and takes another bite, then looks over to Mercy and Matthew, grinning a little at Mercy’s affect on Matthew.

Finishing up her bowl, Teagan stacks her things neatly and… places them with any other stacked empty dishes as she gets to her feet. Her backpack is grabbed from where she’d set it on the ground and slung over her shoulder. “Thank you for the meal. I… should get going, though.”

Mercy keeps the bowl by an ear and utters a whispered “I will.” to Malin like she’s taking this matter very seriously, quiet now in case her chowder speaks up from the great beyond, but her eyes are still on Matthew. They detect that faltering of character and she indulges in a moment of the same; a sly, knowing grin tugging at the girl’s lips, but just as he finds his confidence again so too does she return to dimwitted apathy. A glance flicks between Tenzin and Kai subsequently, her nose wrinkling. “Les’ keep it civil.” she instructs, having to be the ‘zen’ one this time.

“Er… was that not civil?” Kai asks Mercy in confusion and stuffs some more bread in his mouth, he looks between her and Tenzin, his brows raised a bit as he chews a cheekful of the bread.

“You do not seem to have any friends,” Tenzin continues to open fire on Kai, verbally attacking the younger man in spite of the spirit of the gathering. His business becomes the monk’s business. Crisper pronunciation and sharp gestures of his right hand punctuate his points. “With loyalty like yours, it is no wonder the Conclave had to plot to put their hooks into you in order to drag you back to Hell.”

There is a wince from Teagan and she rubs at the bridge of her nose. “He does have friends,” she tells Tenzin, but looks a bit pained before she gives a bit of a (forced) smile and makes her exit.

Malin gazes at Mercy like she’s fully expecting to hear the life story of a fish whose spirit is explaining the good, the bad, and the ugly of life beneath the waves and the inevitable end that has put them into a soup.

Kai looks back to Tenzin and nods a couple of times to the man, “Certainly seems that way! About the friends thing, anyway,” he chews and swallows, “That’s just like… your opinion man,” he quotes a movie to Tenzin, a little grin on his face, he pulls over some chowder and dunks the bread into it, munching.

Tenzin abruptly turns to Mercy and snorts a harsh exhale. He tugs at the collar of his shirt, loosening up what had become a fit too tight. “My apologies, I do not think I am in the right frame of mind to continue talking peacefully,” he struggles to even utter. Distaste remains plain whenever he casts looks in Kai’s direction.

Matthew’s eyes widen all the more, seemingly not expecting this from Tenzin, but here it is and like a car wreck, he can’t look away, until of course the monk is. That collision cleans up nice enough and so he’s back to eating, Mercy’s warning look working wonders in getting that guy to shut up (for once).

Malin tilts her head to the right, peering over at Tenzin before she’s helpfully(?) offering up her wisdom. “Even the sea thrashes before it stills, and peace is not simply a place you arrive at, but it is very much like a tide that visits when one decides to stop chasing the unreachable horizon. I say, let your chaos speak.” Because she’a faeborn, probably. “Then … silence will come when it is ready.”

Mercy stares at Tenzin with marginally wider eyes, blinking slowly, like she’s recovering from whiplash. Maybe Ekaterina should have let him have that whiskey after all. Utterly heedless of those seated beside her she tries to lean closer to the monk, right across their laps and food, to ask, “You wanna step outside fer some air?” A pause, and then she clarifies. “Like more outside than here.”

Tenzin slowly rises to his feet, as careful as one would pass through an electric fence. The bristling monk has too little patience to stay fixed on Mercy or on Matthew and Malin. The probably faeborn woman’s words ring through the musicless beer garden.

“Every time, you are always grinning that little grin,” the man snarls, lunging for Kai with a fist flying. The demonborn is fast enough to evade the possibility of a fight, if he chooses to.

Kai lets out a ‘manly’ yelp as he leans back in time to avoid the punch but falls onto his back on the ground, he scrambles away on all fours, “What the fuck?!” he asks, an octave higher than he’d probably like to be.

Delightedly, Malin watches as the fight breaks out between Tenzin and Kai. She claps her hands together.

Mercy would clutch her pearls if she were not too poor to possess any after witnessing Tenzin resort to throwing a punch before she had. The nerve.

Malin cries out dramatically in an attempt to protect the edible things in the area, “Be mindful of the food!” so that the dishes don’t get kicked or something.

That swing whiffs.

“Are you satisfied with living like this, Farting One?” Tenzin bellows, slamming his hand upon the table and trying to flip it. However, there are too many homeless people leaning on it. The surface quakes beneath the platters. He squeezes past the crowding borough neighbors to cross the table to where Kai is, pursuing like a bald tiger.

“Not being taken seriously, abused by those you annoy, spinning in circles with no direction but wherever your whims take you? Regain control of your Faeborn blood, choose one path, and STAY ON IT FOR ONCE!”

Kai stands up and holds his hands out a bit, his palms facing Tenzin, he cocks a brow at the man, “Uhh… what? Wait… what? Wait… are you about to teach me kung fu?” he asks, even as he backs up a couple of steps while he asks.

Mercy follows Malin’s example and stands partially to try and shield the food with her body, the chowder in particular. “Ain’ let Sheldon die a second death!” She shrieks while trying to match the other woman’s intensity, though all the while she’s watching the exchange between Tenzin and Kai with mounting excitement.

“Rest in peace, Sheldon,” Malin laments over the chowders as Mercy seems to understand the gravity of the situation.

Something about all this really ticks Tenzin off, but he finds himself fully tuned in to Kai. Everything else fades as he steps off the table, a ready tension in his stance.

Is there a half-drunk policeman surveying the scene? The monk giveth zero fucks. He goes for it with clear intent, blindly charging rather than any manner of opponent estimation. His cloak flaps heavily about himself but, no, he does not do the Naruto run. Because that would only make Kai happy.

Kai brings his arms up and starts to back away, “Gaaahh what the fuck I was just kidding, don’t judo chop me!”

Malin raises both eyebrows. “Goodness gracious,” escapes her lips, in the words of Miss Kane as she watches Tenzin and Kai.

“Bro what would the Buddha think!? Peace and love!” Kai yelps as he continues to back away with his arms held up defensively.

Mercy tenses when shit actually gets real and can prioritize Sheldon, nor the rest of the food no longer. While the temptation to dive right in and join is strong she must respect this grudge match, but nothing says she can’t try to get closer seats to the show and so she clambers right up onto the table to try and parkour roll across it to get to the other side and nearer where the throw down is happening.

The homeless don’t even flinch. They see this every day. Some of them begin placing bets.

“You would dare to lecture me on peace and love, while you rampage? What am I to you, an Orderite?!” Tenzin throws shade at not only Kai but to the faction that isn’t present.

Rather amusedly, Malin starts to laugh when Tenzin’s disses The Order.

How Matthew has managed to stay quiet through all this is am ericale, but Mercy’s bitch face had some holy power. Alas, its reign has ended. As Tenzin goes after Kai, Matthew seizes his cue, turning his seights on the homeless. “Look here,” he declares, gesturing grandly towards the latter, “He is a shrimp compared to the Lieutenants that’ll roll through if you don’t mobilize and cast your votes right. Even teh most zen of monks,” a nod to Tenzin as he tries to land a blow, “Get riled up by demon spawn, and he doesn’t even possess the poinky toe of a true Lieutenant!”

“@Me paces now, fully in preacher mode. “The ourt,” he bellows, “will bring order, fun, and chaos, the Holy Trinity! And when we’re done, the Saints will come marching in!” The energy’s building, at least in him, but only a few hof the homeless (do they even vote?) are paying attention to the Fall King, while Malin and Mercy dive for fallen food. “They mean well,” he presses on, still trying to salvage the message, “but they’re only human, none can withstand the devils’ fury!” He raises a hand, finding his rhythm again. “Vote for the Court, before you end up a snack for Hell!”

Matthew paces now, fully in preacher mode. “The ourt,” he bellows, “will bring order, fun, and chaos, the Holy Trinity! And when we’re done, the Saints will come marching in!” The energy’s building, at least in him, but only a few hof the homeless (do they even vote?) are paying attention to the Fall King, while Malin and Mercy dive for fallen food. “They mean well,” he presses on, still trying to salvage the message, “but they’re only human, none can withstand the devils’ fury!” He raises a hand, finding his rhythm again. “Vote for the Court, before you end up a snack for Hell!”

Matthew then moves towards Malin, doing hsi utmost to shield her from any stray attacks coming his way. “Don’t worry,” the Montrose assures his girlfriend, “we’ll have a food fight after this.”

Could have made this look really cool, but she doesn’t. Instead Mercy rolls right over several people’s platters, knocks drinks aside, and the pot of chowder teeters dangerously in her wake as she lands on the other side of the table covered in leftovers.

“Ki-ya!” Kai calls out and swings a chop of his hand at Tenzin, he holds up both hands and enters a poor martial arts stance, “My tiger style is better than your crane style!”

Malin slips an arm about Matthew, resting a slender hand against his far hip. She takes in his speech, and then she nods. “We could just have a food fight, now?” Glancing over at Mercy, she arches her left eyebrow. “FOOD FIGHT!” the Swede calls out and then grabs a bowl. Poor Sheldon.

“FOOD FIGHT!” Matthew agrees and he reaches for the first thing he can – a loaf of bread – and he throws this aimlessly across the table.

Getting karate-chopped by Kai flips on a switch in Tenzin, and he glares into the younger man’s eyes.

Ready…. FIGHT!

So what began as a mindful, peaceful charity meal has ended with the clash of two sort of weebs. Tenzin from the Temple dojo and Kai from… Cobra Kai, probably. “You are not tiger style, your style is Fly style!” He winds his arms around to block the incoming blow.

“The fly is nimble and takes little bites…” Kai informs Tenzin in a faux sage tone, he takes a few steps back from Tenzin and says, “…Can I go eat my chowder now?”

Mercy takes a second amidst the chaos to press at something behind her left ear, speaking to seemingly no one, then she snaps right back to the action like she’s raring to get a piece of THIS meal. The calls for a food fight don’t pull her away, but the smack of a piece of bread against the back of her skull surely does and she whips around. “WHO THE FUCK HIT ME?!” A glob of potatoes is peeled right off her jacket where it had smeared onto and pitched blindly in Matthew and Malin’s direction.

Mercy says “Killgrove, please an’ thanks.“

It isn’t raining men, hallelujah, because that would hurt, but it is pouring seafood chowder down after Malin has thrown the bowl up into the air and it flips, spraying the thick, fishy meal about the area. As the chowder arcs like a creamy comet in the air and scatters globs of pale gold flecked with Sheldon, among others, it descends slowly, and it is very sticky. A fine mist of the briney stuff brings with it the scent of the sea, like the wind off of waves.

Malin gets struck with some mashed potato from Mercy, and she sticks a finger into it, sucking it clean as she pops the digit into her mouth.

Malin reaches for some bread to wield it properly.

Matthew has no intention of owning up to the bread that he managed to bean Mercy with, but Malin has managed to douse him (literally) with a whole bowl of chowder. It’s all in his hair though miraculously his clothes look impeccably clean. Perfect. He’s turning his head up, mouth open, catching those chowder in his mouth, quite literally having fun with his food. His table mate, the one he’d snagged a selfie ‘with’ is snitching. Pointing a finger in Matthew’s direction should Mercy notice the accusation.

“The fly flies away at the soonest sign of responsibility!” Tenzin yells after Kai who backpedals away from his change of heart. Must be something in the Irish cuisine. He rolls up a sleeve and begins with steps to chase after him, but he gets hit by the AOE of that chowder.

He isn’t harmed, because it was a very nerfed special.

It looks like he’s completely forgotten he’s wearing his staff on his back, because he catches Malin’s idea and grabs a loaf of bread to chuck it at Kai instead. “WHERE IS THE LOAF?” Flying right at him.

Kai takes the bread barrage to the chest and stumbles back as if shot, “I thought we were… just… loafing around…” he says and throws himself to the ground, clutching his chest.

Tenzin throws a loaf of bread at Kai.
[Due to the bread being freshly baked, there is no actual damage done besides to anyone’s dignity. To Tenzin’s mostly.]

Malin squeals with delight as Tenzin takes part in the food fight, and she dips a finger into the chowder shower that landed in Matthew’s hair. She takes another taste. “It really is good,” she comments. There’s bits of food and spray all over her. This woman’s clothes attract the stuff, unlike Matthew’s, but now that chowder is paired with rhinestones and sequins. Holding her loaf of bread overhead, she releases an ululation inspired by the warrior princess herself, Xena. “Ayiyiyiyiyiyiyiyiyi!”

As the chowder sails into the air, Mercy becomes as spattered as Matthew and others by the creamy, well-seasoned essence of the dead. It will be a loss to mourn once all their senses have returned. Until then she reaches for the nearest slow-eater’s plate of remaining bread to grab a fistful of pieces, whipping them out at the crowd of people who haven’t yet been sane enough to run one by one like baked shuriken with no points whatsoever.

“You do not loaf yourself enough!” Tenzin groans with extreme gusto, crumbling to his knees and banging at the dirt with a fist. Chowder splatters. Mashed potatoes fly. Bread is broken — on someone else’s head. One of the homeless snottily reminds them that there’s kids starving in a 3rd world country out there.

Suffice it to say that the monk is overcome by great grief and a more overwhelming desire, besides the need to away from this long late lunch that is turning into actual dinner.

He gives up the chase after Kai for now… The monk’s path cuts for Matthew instead, chest heaving, and he extends a grabby hand in a brusque, desperate manner.

Held aloft like a weapon of sheer destiny, Malin has that bread high above her head, gripping about one end as if it were her sword, but a moment later she’s brandishing it like a chakram. She hurls it, letting it spin through the air as it blurs in all of its gluten-filled fury. Celiacs beware. Where it lands… time will tell.

The only losers here are the homeless who thought they were getting an abundance of food…. and they are, it’s just not ending up in their bellies but on the ground and all over their clothing. One woman is bemoaning her drenched clothing, something about this being her only shirt.

King Matthew is here to save the day of course, “Don’t worry, I have just the thing you need,” and he lifts a finger, “I have extra shirts from the wing-off competition in my trunk, come find me, I will clothe you–” he lifts his voice, getting splattered by bread and mashed potatoes, he’s practically glowing in the chaos, “I WILL CLOTHE ALL OF YOU!”

At just that time Tenzin is making grabbing hands at Matthew which he assumes can only mean one thing… alas, his pockets are empty, “No more whiskey, next time, my friend.”

Kai slowly gets up to his feet and dusts himself off, he looks to the table and sighs, “My food..” he complains and shakes his head solemnly, “So much chowder spilled… right in front of these hobos.”

The homeless are the true losers today, but Matthew is passing out clean clothes murmuring a ‘remember the Court come election day’ to anyone who grabs one.

Tenzin ought to be mad at Matthew next, but he is very much weary. That rejection sent him indoors, but a monk hasn’t any pocket money. He is in the negatives. When he returns, his head and face are dripping with water from a fast rinse in the sink. Avoiding to look where Kai is, as it is all that’s keeping him from giving chase all over again, he strains a slight bow of the head in apology to the table in general — including Mercy, Matthew, Malin — and departs with stiff-backed posture.