You Mean You Can't Take Less...

[laszlo-jamf.livejournal.com]

When; Oct 6^th, Mad Hatter Day Curse
Rating; G - PG-13
Characters; OPEN!
Summary; On a day that you can be sipping tea with friends one moment, passing sugar to an enemy the next, only only to find yourself eating cake with a deity, this is merely one of the tables the City's inhabitants may find themselves dining at.

Log; The City is the City is a city, and it is down in the streets, in canyons of steel, "it's making me feel I'm home." It's autumn in New York the City. It's good to live it again.

So Laszlo has set a table too, in sharp and stark and bright and direct and pointed and intentional contrast to the greenery and garden party out in Xanadu. Garden parties. Like picnicking in a cemetery--oh, but they did that, didn't they? The Sunday afternoon walks out to go and spit on ol' Laszlo Jamf's grave.

This would do better if it were indoors, in a penthouse, in some corner apartment--name your other city, he's been to them all. But, close enough, to set it in the street, under the windows and brick and steel. It will do.

A red table. Red and sharp. Dark wood, yes, but red cloth over it, neat and straight--no flow or foam or excess. Tailored--that's the word.

Formality and modernism, that is the center of this table. Black and white dishes, Art Deco, lines and angles and planes. It's an era with which he is familiar. But the effect is striking and cold.

He would have set it in white with stainless steel--medical, clean, efficient--but that idea had been nixed. Damn it.

So red and black and white. And a smattering of steel. He couldn't resist. And better still to sit at the head of the table and observe, the sweep and stretch of the table, the moods and ways of those who sit there--and, always, room for one more.

At least until the bell rang, the gun fired, the call came, and the rush began again.

The Unmoved Mover.

Note; See here! Mark your subject lines with "open" or "to ____" if you like. Prose OR comment log style is alright. Laszlo will speak with any marked "open" or "to Laszlo". Enjoy, and feel free to pop your character in and out as it pleases you and the curse description goes!

Comments

open

[bufferprincess.livejournal.com]

There was a need to come to this place, even though the drifter in her felt there was a warning. But it was tea ad it was tea time. So down Di Di sat for tea, sipping on a cup.

open

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

"Sugar?" Clow suggested, offering the bowl that was going around. "Although honey is better."

open

[bufferprincess.livejournal.com]

"thank you" she nodded and took the sugar. "I can try this with one cup and when the honey is before the next cup, I shall try it with that." She smiles.

Open

[thatsmyjob.livejournal.com]

Thom adored tea parties. He almost wished he could have hosted one of his own but he simply did not have the proper table settings for one and one did not host a half assed affair.

Instead, he was making the rounds, dressed to the peek of perfection for afternoon formal tea. If these events when on into the night he might have to see about picking up a more formal set of clothing but for now, hopefully the three piece suit would suffice.

He did appreciate the ways Laszlo had dressed his table. The lines were clean, yet formal and spoke to Thom's masculine sensibilities. Hey, he may be gay as the day is long but that didn't mean he liked doilies.

Well okay he did, just not in over abundance.

[poor-theodore.livejournal.com]

Second table for the day and Teddy, once again, found himself feeling grossly under-dressed. Wriggling in his seat uncomfortably, he looked left and looked right at the other occupants seated with him, but it was the guy sitting directly across from him that caught his eye. Under his breath he told himself he needed to invest in a suit, but for the time being, he'd improvise.

Hoping nobody would notice, he slumped farther in his chair and reached up to rub at both of his arms, as if he was chilly. As he did so, Teddy let a shift ripple through him until he was no longer sitting there in his grubby jeans and his creased t-shirt. Straightening his posture again, he fiddled with his tie to make sure it was straight. Through his bangs, he glanced to make sure the stranger across from him hadn't been paying attention.

[thatsmyjob.livejournal.com]

Thom had been politely engaged in conversation with a woman to his right and so he'd missed the actual change, however an eye for 'dress' as well as good looking men caused him to take a bit of a second glance at the young man across the table from him.

Hadn't he sat down in jeans? Not that Thom would remark upon such an eccentric act, after all some people had the status to get away with such things and it would be rude to remark upon another guest's attire. However, the suit was quite nice.

Thom smiled politely and nodded his head at the other man.

"How do you do?"

open

[favorsthebrave.livejournal.com]

There were plenty of things in the world more incongruous than a Mafia executive at a tea party. Still, as far as Luck was concerned the day reeked of farce, and though the style with which Laszlo set his table mollified his sensibilities a bit, it was nevertheless with a certain tight-lipped, contained annoyance that he took a seat at the table.

He didn't even like tea.

open

[lackingbeauty.livejournal.com]

If it was any consolation, the woman seated next to him looked just as frustrated with the whole thing- if not rather more overtly. Arms crossed beneath her breasts, Beast had been in the middle of a walking to work- mainly, to the Circus Carnivore, and so sat in her show regalia, the revealing bodice and short skirt, stockings and boots, her fake leg crossed over the other and kicking along with the motions of flesh thigh.

"... Nice party, in't it?" Sarcasm, as she turned to regard the man who was newly come.

open

[favorsthebrave.livejournal.com]

Luck glanced toward her at her remark, after a moment spent regarding the table in front of him. "I suppose it could be worse," he replied, answering her sarcasm with a somewhat dry tone. "We could be drowning in a sea of pastels and ruffles again. But I have to say I'm getting sick of tea and cake." For a split second he looked as though he were about to say more, only to check himself.

Instead he let out a quiet breath, and with an air of commiseration extended a hand. "Luck Gandor," he offered.

OPEN

[knaveswitness.livejournal.com]

The bell rang, and Xerxes Break came.

Cup in hand, and a hat of his own perched jaunt atop silver-white hair. He was already the Mad Hatter. Pandora called him so, his Chain marked him so.

He fit the role well, leaning back on to two chair legs, defying the order of the place with his boots on the table and the saucer in his lap, a plate of sweets balanced somehow on his knees.

Xerxes Break did so like tea parties.

OPEN :"3

[denyinurgod.livejournal.com]

Why was he even here.

The strange events over the network, as well as Lockon's strange actions, should have been investigated on. Instead, he found himself in this... gathering of sorts, and strongly against his will. But at the very least, at least he was being forced to associate (and Lockon—if he had been himself—would have told Setsuna that at least he had no choice but to converse with others now).

And so he blinked as he found himself seated before the white-haired man, perhaps staring a bit too long at the balancing trick.

OPEN :"3

[knaveswitness.livejournal.com]

Xerxes didn't blink at all, at least, not more than normal, even at the sudden arrivals and departures all around him. He was waiting for his next table, and enjoying this one- there was something altogether natural about it, to boot.

He cracked a cheshire grin for the staring, making a show of humming brightly as he plucked one of the treats from the towel of them on the plate balanced on his knee, holding it up and making as if to toss it over the table to him.

"Cake?~"

open!

[obliviomancy.livejournal.com]

Roxas comes to the table because he can't do anything else. There's a tug and a demand that no thought seems able to contain. It doesn't take much effort to vanish in a flaring curl of shadow, only to drop into another chair halfway across the City. As the last of the darkness fades from around him, he cocks his head at the spread. Red and black and white - the lines so precise as to remind him of another world, a place without color.

It's not a warm thought.

"Huh."

He doesn't reach for a biscuit or a cup - just waits for the restlessness to come so that he can move again.

open!

[justasystem.livejournal.com]

The Tianzi arrived shortly after, a sudden blink and she found herself in a different seat than in the one she'd occupied a moment earlier. Another blink, and she shyly turned to her left to see her neighbor.

"Um- May I sit here?" It seemed silly asking when she was already sitting there, but, she wanted to be polite.

open

[warandteaplz.livejournal.com]

[Cyril sat at the table, dressed up in a nice new suit, holding a tea cup up to his curved lips.]

Never a dull moment around these parts is there~?

[dreamsofnoah]

[She's sitting across from him, selecting an assortment of sweets for herself]

There isn't~! I think I liked the other tea party better though, Papa.

open;

[moresake.livejournal.com]

[The stark modernism of the table was sharp contrast to the dark Victorian-style dress Yuuko was attired in today, but she didn't seem to care. She could make herself at home anywhere, and this place was no exception.]

[She sipped at her tea and watched her tablemates, seeming unruffled by their sudden appearances and disappearances. If any were to speak to her, she would be happy to engage in conversation, but she was just as pleased to watch the City's denizens.]

Open

[bequiet_hescreamed]

Clef stumbled - almost literally - onto the table, looking the part of the white rabbit. Which is to say that he was small, fair in features, and had this expression on his face that looked like he might be late for something. Indeed, perhaps he was a little late to the tea party. Should have taken the train.

Open

[moresake.livejournal.com]

"Do sit down, Clef, we'll pass the plates," Yuuko said, hiding her smile at his disorientation.

open |

[innovatorgps.livejournal.com]

Anew had almost given up on the hope of running in to anyone she knew in this mad whirlabout, just as she'd almost grown used to moving about without meaning to.

At first, she'd not eaten or drank, but. It seemed safe enough, and by now she was hungry, having been stolen from beneath the sheets before breakfast. Whether Lyle had been taken from the other side of the bed- she didn't really know, her device had been left behind, leaving her finally staring down at the table and trying to decide what to eat.

open |

[i-themagician.livejournal.com]

"I recommend the pink things," Clow said, noticing her gaze. And of course giving his most charming smile just in time for her to look up.

Open

[favoritetraitor.livejournal.com]

Clean cup, move down, move down... it had been like this for hours.

Sighing, the Chevalier made his way to the newest seat and removed his top hat before joining the assembled throng. It was an interesting enough diversion away from the sterile environment of the hospital and lab, and Solomon certainly didn't mind the time off.

The only thing that could have made it better was if the girls had been able to join him.

"Just a half a cup, if you will... I wasn't even able to finish my last one."

Open

[bequiet_hescreamed]

"Why not?" Clef wanted to know.

This is his first table, you see.

open

[thebearjew.livejournal.com]

Donny'd been in a raging fire before, bullets flying everywhere, bombs going off. He'd been crouched down behind a bush in almost the exact same position for over a day, staring and staring for any sign of movement. He'd played poker with a bunch of cheating Basterds. And all of those things put together were a hell of a lot better than whatever was going on now.

He didn't like tea. He didn't want tea. If Donny had it his way he'd never see another cup of tea in his life. It wasn't a manly drink. It wasn't an American drink. He tried to request some booze or something, but was ignored. If he found out who kept yelling shit about cleaning cup and moving down, that person would be getting a knuckle sandwich.

He looked down as he was poured another cup of non-manly non-American tea. Even if there was booze, he wouldn't drink anything out of a teacup. He tossed it over his shoulder.

open (if backdating's okay?)

[reversetheremix.livejournal.com]

Shinji wasn't the sort of guy who liked any more pomp in his life than necessary, and tea just wasn't one of the things on his list that called for it. He was aware it came in different types, and used to drink the green version out of formality at some points in his life, but definitely preferred plain water. No one would ever throw a party over drinking that.

Either way, it was more tiresome to ignore the urge to find some than it was to actually attend one of these things, so there he was: approaching a decked-out table full of it, surrounded by noisy people he'd rather not get to know. Just as he was about to take a seat anyway, something — was that a friggin tea cup? — smacked him dead in the face.

Letting his palm follow suit, he squawked, "The hell was that for?!"