Christmas Tea for Three

[JewellRavenlock]

Tea was set for three. There had been more once. There had been tea parties absolutely filled to the brim with the life and laughter of grown women shrugging their cares away and pretending to be little girls for one afternoon.

Now there were just three place settings: Jewell, Tara, and Horus. Still, Jewell had insisted on the largest table at the RhyDin Imperial Tea House. In addition, she had insisted the establishment be closed to all other customers so The Killa and The Empress could enjoy their tea in peace.

She also had a few other unusual requests.

“What do you mean you do not want the teapot to be filled with actual tea?” the young server in the formal suit looked more confused than appalled, standing there stupidly with his mouth gaping open and a steaming pot of tea in his hands.

Jewell sighed. “I really do not see how I can explain this any better than I already have. Empty teapot. Empty cups.” She gestured to each in turn. “Empty plates.”

“So you are saying that you do not want actual tea?”

She slapped the top lace covered mahogany table. “Yes! That is exactly what I’m saying. Take that awful stuff away.” She gestured dismissively. “Take the scones too!” she shouted after him as he turned away, eyes wide. He dashed back to grab the plate of scones and clotted cream off the tabletop and retreated hastily into the kitchen with the pot of brewed tea. “And don’t forget to turn the pretty piano music on!”

“Really,” Jewell shook her head, disgusted as she straightened out the napkin in her lap; it had gotten a bit wrinkled. “These people have no imagination!” She took up one of the spoons, checking her warped reflection in it while she waited for her bestie. She readjusted her rather large and feathered hat before setting the spoon back down. “I mean, who wants actual tea at a tea party?”

[Tara]

Tara watched as a singular rivulet of Chocolate Chaos icecream ran down the length of the cone she was holding as the screams of the surviving passengers of Flight 409 from Seoul to Los Angeles became fully aware of the situation they now found themselves in.

The plane had crashed.

Tara was perched on its left wing.

Which was on fire.

And the survivors were all trapped in their seats afraid, they, too, would soon be on fire.

Tara, however, was not afraid. A tad bit annoyed perhaps but not in any way fearful for her life.

Mostly because she didn't consider herself as having a "life" since she was an immortal and had been unsuccessfully trying to kill herself for years.

Much to Anubis' great consternation and horror.

So the likelihood of her dying today was probably a slim possibility.

Her nose scrunched up now and she turned the cone upside down so that more of the icecream dripped from it but not on the cone, no, on Mrs. Lapolla's (fat, if you asked Tara her opinion of it) head.

"Why does the frozen milk do this? It is irritating to be consuming this treat and for it to leak like this. Do you not agree, Dina?" she asked as she was suddenly sitting in Mrs. Lapolla's lap and showing her the offensive cone in question.

The woman was understandably horrified and in some degree of shock. She had been on her way home from a beautiful vacation with her husband and had survived the plane crash not only to learn that her husband who was slumped beside her in his seat had died but that some strange small woman was in her lap and talking about icecream.

It seemed surreal so Mrs. Lapolla did what any other rational person stuck in the same circumstance would do.

She cried.

Which in turn made Tara cry.

And that was how, some three hours later when the authorities arrived, they found Mrs. Lapolla and a one Tara Rynieyn. Embracing, in a seat, crying with a pool of sticky, congealed icecream at their feet.

Some time between when Mr. Lapolla was carved out of his seat (this is how Tara would later describe the scene to Gren) and when Mrs. Lapolla came to the full realization that her marriage of thirty years had now ended as well as her husband's life and passed out from the stress of it all, Tara became aware that her bestest friend in the WHOLE wide world (that being Jewelsie) was having a tea party.

Because even in another timeframe and plane of existence such as she was on Earth? Tara was in tune with what was going on in Rhy'Din.

A perk, you might say, of being The Whore of Babylon.

And so Tara had to say her goodbyes to Mrs. Lapolla as she was being strapped to a gurney and teleport back to the center of the Nexus where she found her BFF seated at a table, adjusting a napkin and seemingly irritated at something.

Tara's first thought was that Jewelsie (also an immortal) had learned of the unfortunate incident with the icecream cone but then she caught sight of some waitstaff carrying away what appeared to be a full pot of tea and she frowned, pointing at the retreating man.

"Was that jus' what I think it was? Who serves tea at a tea party? I swear, Jewelsie, you an' I have been lax in our duties. We need to shape this town up. These meatpuppets don't get ANYTHING. It's so frustrating. Is that a scone?" she asked, her violet eyes lighting up in excitement.

Tara knew the rule about tea parties. She did. But having a sweet tooth as she also did it conflicted with her inner desire to consume all things sweet. In addition to all things fast food.

She sat now across from her bestie and pouted. "I could do with a scone. My icecream melted. Mr. Lapolla couldn't console me because he was all dead an' such but Mrs. Lapolla tried. She's not going to survive the night, though. Internal bleeding. Do you think I could take the scone with me, Jewelsie?"

She stared at her now, expectantly, hoping The Empress would be kind enough to say yes.

Because in a world where the Whore of Babylon thought it appropriate to question a plane-crash survivor and recent widow who would soon be dead herself as to the physics of icecream melting, scones were ALL that mattered.

[JewellRavenlock]

Jewell was not at all phased by her best friend’s sudden appearance. In fact, she was so not surprised by both the teleportation and the chatter about Mr. and Mrs. Lapolla (the former deceased and the latter apparently soon to die!), that she didn’t even bat her eyelashes at all. No, she was too busy pulling a darling top hat, decorated with delightful crimson red tulle and a beautiful ruby broach, out from under the table and handing it off to her bestie.

There were certain rules to follow when one is having tea.

Others could be fortunately ignored. “Of course you can have a scone!” she reassured her friend with a smile before turning to look towards the kitchen. The young serving man was peering out at them from the round window in the double, swinging doors, but he ducked down quickly when he noticed Jewell watching him.

“Watch this.” The Empress grinned at Tara before picking up the small bell on the table and ringing the heck out of it like it was a cow bell.

There was a bit of a struggle at the kitchen doors before their server was shoved out. He glared over his shoulder before standing up straighter and adjusting his rumpled suit. “Yes, ladies?”

“Joseph!” His nametag clearly read ‘Jonathon’ even from across the room. “My friend needs scones. I notice that there are none on the table. Who can drink tea without scones?”

He stared. They weren’t drinking tea!

“I thought this was supposed to be a high class establishment. I am willing to overlook this omission on your part, and will not have my friend here enter you into the upcoming round of the Infernal Games, if you bring them out quickly.”

Jonathan's eyes widened and he attempted to discreetly brush some crumbs from his lapels. He was a well-known stress eater and had managed to polish off all the scones only moments before after Jewell had yelled at him. “Um.. well.. I…”

“Scones, Joseph!”

“Right.” Jonathan dashed back into the kitchen.

Jewell shook her head as she looked to Tara. “You are so right, my friend. This town is falling apart at the seams!” She then proceeded to lift her very empty tea cup and take a sip, dabbing at her lips afterwards with her napkin.

“So, how are you? How is Anubis? I see that Horus could not join us today.” She gestured to the spot at the table that had been set aside for Horus the Tortoise. There may have been a nice little derby hat sitting on the chair, waiting for him, along with an empty tea cup there was no way in hell he would have been able to lift. “I hope he is not feeling under the weather. Perhaps we should find someone else to join us for tea today since he could not be with us.”

[Rayvinn]

After his encounters with The Empress and arrival of The Whore of Babylon, Jonathon Joseph was also forced to suffer the arrival of The Harbringer of Chaos. She'd attempted to enter the RhyDin Imperial Tea House in civilized fashion by way of the beautifully carved French doors and promptly found them locked. Frowning, which was quite a terrifyingly severe expression for an elf due to the naturally stern appearance and the almost sharply pointed brows, Rayvinn had pulled the pink invitation adorned with blue, green, and bright yellow polka dots from the only available storage--her less than ample cleavage.

“I’m certain that harlot faerie said the RhyDin Imperial Tea House. Though maybe she said the RhyDin Imperial Tease House...” she mused while fishing for the invitation and becoming distracted by the bright colors and respectable amount of glitter. Of course, it didn’t actually occur to Rayvinn that being invited for tea at the Tease House might be...odd. She wasn’t entirely certain what the place was but the name suggested the manner of entertainment that might be found. Still, this was of no consequence as the answer presented itself, along with a new dilemma, as she perused the fancy lettering of the invitation and found that tea was, indeed, being served at the Tea House.

“Well,” the elf huffed. “This is a rather rude way to start a tea party and I’m not even late.” Another severe frown marred her normally flawless features as her gaze quickly moved over the entrance. “Surely Jewell wouldn’t lock me out after creating such a lavish invitation. No, there is something else afoot here.”

Rayvinn’s paranoia was almost legendary amongst those closest to her, but it had recently been quite dormant. Until now. No, now it was a very real thing and was fueling a multitude of scenarios, each worse than the one previous, that had the elf bounding quickly across the wide patio, high heels not slowing those steps in the least. Procuring a wrought iron patio chair, she lifted it with both hands and heaved it through one of the tall bay windows with all of her might. Moments after the glass shattered, she began kicking remaining fragments from the wooden pane so she could step through, while calling out, “I’ll rescue you, Jewell!”

Upon entering, and after a cursory glance about, she noted Jewell and Tara sitting across the room, apparently about to begin. Without so much as a sheepish smile, Rayvinn smoothed a delicate hand over the ruffled pink “petals” of her tea dress. It was frilly and bright, perfect for high tea with lady friends. The ornate top hat had somehow not even budged from its perch upon her head and her exquisitely coiffed hair remained without a single strand out of place. A gentle tug was given to each of the lace elbow gloves before strutting steps, perfect for a Parisian runway, crunched over the glass drawing the elf closer to the party. Seeing Jonathon Joseph pause in his serving duties to stand slack jawed gaping at her, Rayvinn sighed and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh do stop lullygagging, boy, and do what you’re being handsomely paid to do. Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve seen the arrival of royalty through a window.” An exaggerated, dramatic sigh was given as she donned the persona of Czarina Fancypants. This was a tea party for royalty, after all. The invitation even said so.

“Please do forgive my lateness to the party, ladies,” the Czarina spoke in a crisp accent, thinking it entirely appropriate for tea, and offered them both a pleasant smile. Reaching for the sugar bowl and spoon, she then placed three imaginary lumps into her tea cup and gave it a stir.

[Amthyst Oak]

It was the sort of day that Amthy enjoyed--but then she enjoyed most everyday as they happened. However, that didn't stop that particular day from being special. Because it was.

Up on tippy-toes of bare little feet, she peeked in through the broken window. Her bright, unblinking tsavorite-green eyes widened to saucers and her mouth ringed in a small 'o' of curiosity and surprise. Ginger warmed the air around the olivine-haired Nymph.

"'s this th'Tease House?" She inquired politely as she smoothed one hand over the full bell of her very puffy serenity blue dress. It was, in fact, quite the fashionable color as was the rose quartz ribbons that ran along the hem line and adorned her gradient green hair--along with a smattering of sparkly clips and other things.

With lips puckered she touched one finger tip to her mouth and carefully stepped through the glass. Magical as she was, and graceful, she managed to avoid trodding on even a splinter of shattered pane. "I sincerely d'hope so, for'm severely lackin' in proper teasing," she chattered on as if broken windows weren't worth mention. Silver belled anklets sang as she moved on pointed toe like a former Pixie ballerina.

Amthy took in the sights. First, naturally, her gaze settled on the three ladies at the table. Second, it settled on their overwhelmed server. Third, she noted the distinct lack of tea-that-wasn't (or Imaginary as it was known to the layperson) and mud. It was criminal.

"Quite seasonable weather we've been having," she said conversationally to the three, "and I so adore your hat," Amthy said to Rayvinn in a bright chirp of happiness as she stole a chair from another table and scooted up to Jewell's party table.

[G]

G'nort Dragoon-Talanador is the type of person who tends to hear things. As such, given what he had recently had relayed to him, he felt compelled to interject himself into the middle of a party that, in his humble opinion, made him feel like he just had to be there

Of course, there would be those who would attempt to not let him past, but his skills with double talking and the determination to be a part of this little gathering despite not being outright invited. There was someone he simply wanted to see. When he gets it in his head that he should be somewhere, there would be no keeping him away.

He casually approached the tea-less table of women and gave a wonderful smile. Pulling out a chair and straddling it as though it was his destiny to be there the entire time, he leaned forward.

"Hello ladies. I believe that we can get started now. My invitation was clearly lost in the mail but as you can see, I'm ready to talk about who we're teasing this coming month."

He looked to the side to give Raye a flat smile. "Raye." Was his greeting. He gave a similar look to Tara. She was really odd. "Tara." To Jewell and Amthy he offered the brightest of smiles. "Jewell, Amthy. You two ladies are looking as fabulous as ever! So, shall we begin?" He clapped his hands as though it was his idea to gather them all together. He really had nothing to do with that but he made himself feel important, as usual.

[Spell]

"Surprise!" said as she peeked out from under a table.

Nevermind the fact that some of her cheek had been peeling away and hanging from her jaw--.. yeah, it's best not to look at that, because she'd push and prod it back up to stick it back into place.

"Where's the tea at?! I got an invite and I was told there would be tea!"

[Lirssa Sarengrave]

A Tea Party. With Aunt Tara and Ms Jewell at the lead of notable others.

Yes, this was one of those events Lirssa was not going to miss. The embodiment of bizarre and beautiful, the wondrous chaos of RhyDin having tea was sure to be...illuminating. And a jolly good time, too! Well, if she watched in the right frame of mind. A slightly skewed frame.

Lirssa dressed in a simple long light grey skirt with ruffles sweeping against her booted ankles. A cream colored blouse with a brooch glinting and a fine pressed jacket that matched the skirt. She was the picture of afternoon tea, if that tea were in late 19th century England.

Being mortal as she was, she took some time upon arrival to sight all the escape routes. Catching the eye of servers looking pale and worrisome peeking from the door, she gave a bright smile and a wave. They jerked back like they'd been burned.

Seems like the jolly good time had already started. "Ladies and," quirk of a brow to G, "guy." Taking a seat while she dashes off kisses to those that typically get them. Can't break tradition even at a tea party of such refinement.

And she settles in to watch the mayhem with a far too wicked gleam to her eyes.

[Amthyst Oak]

"Where's the tea at?! I got an invite and I was told there would be tea!"

A trill of delight escaped the Nymph. "Oh, but there is," she assured Spell. "Most delicious, 'm sure." She plucked a cup and sipped daintily at the Tea-that-Wasn't with her pinky politely posed away from the ceramic shell. "Would you care for a cuppa?"

She set her cup down and it gave an empty clatter on the saucer. Wagging her fingers she selected a similarly imaginary confection from the tidbit tray. "You d'look quite smart t'day," she said to Lirissa as she arrived.

Amthy took a nibble from her "tea cake". "I d'thinkin' we should put it t'a vote," she said to G. "Who's on th'list?" She asked about the potential teasing situation.

Lantern-like eyes rolled up and to the side thoughtfully. "Though I must say, jus' the other day--or maybe it was several before that and two after--I was takin' a walk an' I noticed an alarmin' lack o' hats. An' pets. Can you imagine? An' I was sayin' t'mahself: really there should be more o' them. O' course I canno' wear a hat, 've no' the face for'un," Amthy rambled on on a completely different tangent of thought as she took another bite of imaginary cake, always mindful to chew with her mouth closed. "But pets? Why ever would they b'missin'?"

[Eden Parker]

Decked out in her one-and-only new pink dress, Eden tried to dampen her bouncing as she headed for the tea house. After all, a lady does not bounce (or so she has been told). She had never been invited to tea before, but she had heard tell---cookies, and little sandwiches, and little cakes with pink flowers on them---her whole life she'd been dreaming of such an adorable feast! She certainly did not want to to blow it at the door with too much bouncing. Plus, Jewell said that Horus might be there, and oh, how she loved Horus!

So she strolled inside, taking careful long steps, trying to glide past the doorman and into the tea house.

It didn't last long.

She just could not contain her excitement once she saw everyone gathered at the pretty table, so perfectly decorated with a delicate tea set and napkins and tablecloth. She had never seen anything like it! And so there she went, bouncing towards the little gathering.

"Hi!" Bright and cheerful, the tulle skirt of her pink dress bouncing around her. "I'm here for tea! Happy tea!" She waved at the little group, then leaned towards Lirssa to whisper, "That's something people say, right? Happy tea?"

[Gren Blockman]

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and two rather angry looking demons, one on either side of a tied-up Gren, came marching over to the table. Gren had both his eyes shut tight and was sweating profusely.

“No No Please! I don’t want to go to Aitch-Eee-Double-You-Know-Where! I’m not a bad person! I haven’t done anything to deserve this! Please untie me! I have Merinthophobia! And a bunch of other phobias! Ones that involve demons!”

The demons stopped, shoved Gren to get his attention, then pointed imperiously at an empty chair.

Gren had gingerly opened one eye, then his face fell as he saw it was a . . . tea party?

“What the . . . Jewell? Tara? What is going on?”

The demon pointed to the seat again, for emphasis. Gren gulped and complied. Then he looked curiously at the teacups.

“Hey, why isn’t there any . . . ?” He began.

The demons leaned forward, glaring dangerously.

Gren quickly raised the teacup and noisily sipped air.

One of the demons raised his pinky, suggestively.

Gren raised his pinky as he slurped the nonexistent tea, rapidly shooting furtive glances between the empty cup and the glaring demons.

[Lirssa Sarengrave]

"Oh, thank you Ms Amthy. You look delightful, as ever." And so she did. Lirssa took her seat and sipped from the teacup of non-tea. A smile and wave to Eden as she proclaimed "Happy Tea!"

It sounded good to Lirssa, so when Eden asked if it was right, Lirssa nodded. "I think so. So glad to see you having some time off." Most assured nod. Besides, at such an event as this was, 'Happy Tea' was an appropriate proclamation.

Gren perhaps did not agree. Lirssa tilted her head a little and watched his arrival, curious as to just how that had come about. A few ideas came to mind, and she turned to narrow eyes on Ms Jewell. She would not openly ask the Empress, as that was rude. So she smiles and waves to Gren. "I'm glad they have this particular type of tea."

[Eden Parker]

"Hi Gren!" Eden waved and smiled as if being brought in by demons all tied up was completely normal. And maybe it was! She'd never been to a tea before after all!

She also waved around the table, giving a little curtsy to her hostess the Empress and then to Tara too. Amthy got a bright dimpled smile and a wave. "Hi! I'm Eden!" And there were more cheery waves for G and Raye and Jesse too!

With all her greetings taken care of, Eden plopped herself in an empty seat at the table and looked around. Her beaming bright smile began to dim. Where were the cute sandwiches? Where were the cookies? The pretty cakes with little pink flowers? Her eyes slowly widened as she panned around the table, watching Gren and then Amthy taking sips from empty cups.

She gasped.

WHERE WAS THE TEA!?

[Jake]

It's not every day that half-orcs get used as missile weapons. As ammo, they tend to be uncooperative. That said, it's hard to argue with a kraken that wants to play "fetch."

The hapless half-orc crashed through the french window of the tea-house, sending shattered glass and fragments of wood in all directions. The orc himself flew in a violent arc and landed on a table, crushing it, sending floral decorations, empty teacups and saucers, and the odd bit of silverware flying. Jake groaned as he picked himself up. "*@#&%#-it! I am not a fetch toy!" He cast about for a moment and grabbed up his sword. The well-worn leather grip fit to his hand as though part of him. He growled and clambered to his feet. Focused upon the gigantic, emerald, tentacle lashing about in the distance, the half-orc scarcely noticed the company assembled for tea. Breathing hard, Jake swore in several guttural languages before finally becoming aware of his surroundings. His eyes took in Tara and Jewell, and their company seated around a table set for tea. He began to say something, but got interrupted.

Napoleon bounded through the window-now-entryway created by the flying orc, followed closely by a pixie trailing a path of glittering pixie dust, and a horde of wraiths wailing in hellish despair. The captain rat bounded onto a table and flourished his wooden sword, "AAAARRRRRRRRR! What fun!" The pixie zoomed around him, giggling...at least until she spotted the bowls of sugar.

The pixie's eyes widened to triple their size, and she squeeeed, "SSsssssssHHHHHHHUUUUOOOOOOOOGAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR! " Like a bolt of lightning, Trixie dived into the sugarbowl and disappeared in a cloud of powdery white ambrosia.

Napoleon, following the pixie's trajectory, spotted his most favoritest friends (he had many of them), and bounded from table to table until he reached that of the Empress and Tara. "Good day to you, most divine of Empresses, and keeper of the sacred cheesy doodles who always gives me the bestest presents." The rat bowed low to each, his tricorn hat off and waved with grand style. The wraiths, eternally woeful, swooped and circled the room, though none quite neared Tara for fear of a fate worse that what had already been allotted to them.

"We were just out taking Krakie for a walk! He's the very bestest pet a pirate could ask for!" The proud rat beamed at Tara. "He's not quite house-broken yet. He keeps breaking them. But we're working on that!"

On cue, a shadow fell over the room as the kraken loomed over the building. It bent down, an enormous reptilian eye veered in close, filling the empty space that was formerly a window, and gazed into the room. A tentacle, as thick around as a tree trunk poured into the room reaching for the half-orc.

"Oh hells NO!" Jake growled. He stabbed at the tentacle, his blade sinking deep into the snaking tendril, and a deep, floor-shaking rumble sounded from without as the kraken reacted to the pinprick. Undaunted, the tentacle circled around the orc, clutching him tight in confining loops. Held, the orc continued to fight, stabbing his short blade down into the tentacle, but with little effect upon its grasp.

The kraken pulled the half-orc through the room, and out into the open air, waving him about like King Kong and Fay Wray. Napoleon, securing his hat back into place, grinned and reached down to pluck the pixie out from the sugarbowl. "Time to go, Trixie! We have to finish our walk!" The Norwegian rat tossed the sugar-intoxicated pixie into the air, and she looped around in tight circles around Napoleon, then Tara, then Jewell, then Rayvinn, then Amthy, G, then Jesse, then Lirssa, then Eden, and finally Gren. "ZzzzzzZZZZzzzzZZZzzzzZZZZzzZZZZZZZzzzzz..." sounding like a horde of maddened bees all by her sugar-infused self. "ZzzzZZZZzzzzOOOOOOooooOOOMMMMMMMMM!" and with a flash disappeared out the new entryway to chase after the kraken.

Napoleon grabbed some sugar cookies from the table, with a wink to Jewell, "for later!" With a bound, he leapt from the table and dashed for the exit, waving his piratey sword. "ARRRRRR! Wait for me! I'm your captain!"

The wraiths went rushing out, following after their diminutive captain in pursuit of the retreating form of the kraken that was well on its way towards Seaside.

Edited to add pic for kraken. Picture provided by Tara.

[Amthyst Oak]

Amthy preened and primped as her not-so-little ego rattled the bars of the cage that held it. The air around her sweetened with the happy scent of wildflowers and sweetness of cherries. The nymph plucked a bit of lint (that was as real as the tea) from her bodice and flicked it into nothingness. "How good o' you t'notice!" She said blithely, a beaming smile given to Lirssa.

"Happy tea!" She joined in the chorus as she lifted up her tea and slurped an airy sampling. "A pleasure f'r you t'meet me," she chirped to Eden. "I do liking th' face you d'make when you smile," she said about the dimple. She gestured with her tea cup to indicate the placement on her own face.

CRASH! BANG! BOOM! A half-orc came flying into the tea house and Amthy squawked in surprise. Bright eyes wide, she put her hands further up in alarm, spilling her tea. "Mah tea!" She cried out as if that was the most distressing part of the whole ordeal and not the menacing, tentacled creature that was advancing, or the symphony of hellish despair flavored wailing.

She grabbed her napkin and dabdabdabbed at the table and in the process sank partway under the table. "'s t'b'tea an' a show?" She asked with growing curiosity. "They're verra charmin' singers," she said about the wraiths. "How verra thoughtful o' you, Empress."

Then she spied the eye and the entertainment was, certainly, entertaining. And dizzying. In a ways only a RhyDinian could enjoy. Which was to say it was chaotic. Her eyes spun watching Napoleon scurrying about, adding to the symphony of noise. "Is it time for intermission?" She asked as the "act" left the tea house leaving it quiet (comparatively speaking) for a moment. A quiet that was broken by lone bit of glass falling onto the floor.

Amthy righted her tea cup but then realized something terrible. It sank down into her Nymph-y pix bones.

She fanned her tea-that-wasn't soiled napkin at her face and her lashes fluttered. "They--they--they took the cookies!" She finally managed. And she had been just about to enjoy one of the crispy imaginary treats.