“But they did make amazing decorations” he said, pointing at the striped feather coming out of the top of the Hatters hat. The Hatter followed his pointed paw and reached up to touch the tip before laughing bashfully at his friends compliment.

Who knew his own hallucinations could be so fucking rude to him. And after he was so polite with the bowing and everything too. Julien's eyes flicked back and forth between the two as they spoke, comparing cake to politics, and he couldn't help but think there was a kind of sense in their words.

Except it was probably a terrible insult to cake to compare the two.

The Englishman wasn't at all put off by their dismissal, though. He settled his hat neatly back on his electric blue hair and waited for them to finish their conversation, eyes tracking to the feathered decoration in question.

It was terribly fabulous. He didn't say so, though, this time preferring to wait until they were ready to talk.

Wait shmaite (the height of common English gibberish), there's hangover curatives on that table! Knowing in her heart (and literary brain) that in this place particularly it would be better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, Jemima took action.

Her ears were on the conversation, but her eyes, wide and bright, searched the table for anything that actually asked to be eaten (as she didn't feel like a size change would be desirable at this point, beyond the imminent temporary stretching of her belly). Not seeing any, she pulled out a white wooden chair, padded with crimson and gold, and plonked down on it as the Hatter and Hare distracted each other with talk of feathers.

She picked up a teapot, checked that there was, indeed, tea and not a door-mouse inside, and poured herself a steaming cup.

"Rebellion?" she asked, as she reached for a slice of white-iced lemon tea cake.

Joe blinked as the Hatter and Hare bantered on with metaphors relating cake to political system stuff, though the bit about the different animals making things made him frown slightly...was this potentially a reference to what the cat had said about other things having come before? Also, how the heck would parrots steal a wagon?

Not having received an invitation to sit down , Joe walked up and stood slightly off and behind Jemima, keeping an eye on their surroundings as well as what was occurring at the table.

Tea did pour from the pot that Jemima held, a rich blue colour that smelt very sweet like berries and black tea leaves. The Hatter turned to her and huffed as he pointed his cake fork towards her,

“Where have you been?” he said rudely, “It's bad enough that you turn up so late but you bring a bunch of riff raff here with... with their hats!” he pointed at Julien's hat as if it had just insulted him.

“Clearly she picked them up from somewhere, at least one of them is well dressed” said the Hate, leaving back and eyeing off Julien once again. Then turning back to meet Joe's eyes,

“It's rude to just loiter by someones tea party, do you have somewhere else to be?”

“The rebellion my dear is the suspected rise againts the queens new rules, though you didn't hear it from me” he said with a smirk “Even I didn't hear it from me so we're all in the clear”

He paused,

“Who did I hear it from Marchy?”

“Old boy I don't tend to fraternise with the voices you hear but if my memory serves me promptly I think it came straight from the horses mouth” he said, taking a sip of his tea “The one pulling the wagon the parrots stole”

Joe looked blandly back at the Hare "I had not received an invitation to join, therefore I have not sat."

His hat was insulted and his sense of dress praised in the same breath. It was just as confusing as one might expect, really. Since Jemima had been welcomed once she sat down, Julien took a seat by her. He also found a teapot containing tea and not a doormouse and poured himself a cup.

The Hatter raised his eyes at Joe,

“Good thing to, we didn't send any” he blurted out followed by a chaotic laugh. “Sit down boy, you're distressing the cutlery”

Nearby on the table a faint snoring sound could be heard from a large silver soup bowl, the lid an ornate make of roses and vines working their way to the top and making a handle.

“I thought you left those at home” said the hare, gesturing to the cutlery. “I get sick of hearing them whine”

“No those were glasses and we only have tea at the table this time” reassured the Hatter, calming a shaking spoon.

Joe nodded politely, then took the seat next to Jemima.

Noticing that both Jemima and Julien had opened the top of the pot they had chosen before pouring a cup, Joe did the same thing, only seeing tea inside...although it appeared blue in color...

After pouring a cup and taking a sip, Joe gave an appreciative sigh. "My compliments on the teas you serve gentlemen!"

Lilith giggled as she joined Joe in sitting down. "would you pass the tea please Joe?" She held out an odd cup that was in front of her to him.

Joe nodded, then carefully poured Lilith an almost full cup being very mindful not to spill any while pouring.

Julien, already possessing a full cup of tea, lifted a couple of platter lids to see what was inside. Perhaps not as wary as his companions of a change in size, or even maybe forgetting it was a possibility, he picked up a biscuit he found and set it on the side of his saucer, carefully replacing the lid.

The snoring from the soup bowl was highly intriguing, setting his fingertips to itching with the desire to lift the lid. If he remembered the story well enough, he could guess at what - or rather who - might be in there.

He licked the corner of his mouth and, instead of giving into temptation, for the moment, he picked up the biscuit instead and took a bite.

The soup bowl mumbled slightly, a scratching sound from within rising as the lid lifted and a small nose emerging and twitching. The Dormouse was the size of a large cat, pouring over the silver lid of the bowl and slowly stepping across the table only to make his new bed on a pile of cucumber sandwiches.

“Dormy no!” sighed the Hatter “Can't you see we have guests? Sleep on the bagels!”

The little mumbling mouse looked up and around at the new company at the table before crawling over to Lilith and curling up on the large platter of bagels in front of her. In seconds there was a soft snoring coming from them. The Hatter gave a small sound of endearment at his little friend.

“The Rebellion is such a curious thing, nothing of it in my day.” he said, pouring another cup of tea, the sound of liquid falling echoing through the china. “The Queen was more relaxed, be-headings used to be such a casual thing. Apparently that's not the case anymore”

The tea was still pouring.

“Apparently she doesn't even hold Croquet competitions anymore. But its been a while since anyone came through with news, we haven't seen Rasul in ages!”

The Hare nodded sadly,

“Lots of your type though!” he said, pointing at Joe “They come here all confused and leave just the same.... never see the same ones twice though”

The teapot the Hatter was holding still poured tea enthusiastically into the cup on the table.

Joe gently gestured to the surrounds with his teacup "This place is just a bit different from where we are from..."
If there's been a deviation from the book..what is it...maybe that could be an indication of what this fuckery is all about....
"Mr Hatter, what changed?"

Raising an eyebrow at "your type", Jemima let questions pour through her mind as smoothly as the floral tea slid down her throat.

So, they're not the only outsiders who've been through... whatever this is they're going through. Why don't they come back? Because they wake up from this dream? Because they pass some kind of test? Because, and there's no sense ignoring nastier possibilities, they die?

Was she actually expected? Or was that just more nonsense from the Hatter?

Just what is the matter with Julien's hat? She thought it rather a natty one, and just the proper style (oh don't start that or you'll get an ear worm, silly girl).

Instead of asking any of this, she listened. Joe had asked such a perspicacious question, it seemed sensible to wait for an answer. If it involved tarts, she wouldn't be at all surprised. Mmm, tarts. Not immediately spotting one, she reached for a slice of elegantly chequered Battenburg cake instead.

The Hatter tutted the question, tapping his spoon against the edge of his cup to produce a series of unique notes.

“Hmmmm I'd say it was the King went mad and accused the Queen of having mice inside her brain. Said they were running on wheels and controlling her body. So the Queen executed him when he kept setting up mice traps around her bed”

The Hare shook his head, ears waving slightly

“No no dear boy, the Knave conspired with the King to kill her because of her new ruling over pastries. The icing dear boy, the icing! Pure Treason!”

He took a green apple and bit into it, revealing a bright purple inside

“I thought he went mad?”

“He was already there old chap, few could be married to her and retain any form of true sanity”
This message was last updated by the player at 03:56, Fri 07 Aug 2020.