tampered | You Mean You Can't Take Less...

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.

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

"What is the meaning of this?" Clef lamented, gesturing to indicate - oh, I don't know - the tea party in the middle of the street. But he did as he was told nonetheless and poured a little milk in his tea to cool it off only - why not, so long as he was here? Predictably, he took it without sugar.

"We're having tea," she said, her tone casual. She passed him the sugar in case he wanted it.

"I see that-- no, thank you," he held up a hand to politely refuse the offered bowl, mid-sentence, as though this were a completely normal sort of tea party. "But why here and now?!"

"Because we haven't been pulled elsewhere yet," Yuuko answered cheerfully. Sorry, Clef, the cryptic is built in. She set the bowl down, added a little more to her own tea, and sipped.

"Elsewhere?" Is this a tiny, perturbed look? Why, yes, I think it is.

She gestured widely. "There are a lot of tea parties today. I came from that direction," she said, pointing in the direction of the Square.

"What sort of elsewhere did you think I meant?" She tried the innocent look, not that Clef was likely to buy it.

Whether or not he bought it, Clef continued to look perturbed.

"Is the travel mandatory?" he asked, instinctively clinging to his seat as he did so.

"Oh, yes," she answered, her lip quirking as she saw the way he clung to the seat. She wondered if it would go along with him if he had to move on. That would be quite amusing. "I believe it's part of the curse."

He furrowed his brow, a bit frustrated. "This wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for that..."

"Perhaps you could try being satisfied with its relative harmlessness?" Yuuko said, offering him a cake.

He thanked her, taking a piece. "... I suppose you do have a point there."

"I always have a point," she answered cheerily, despite the actual truth of that, and she takes a piece too.

"You should never over-generalize," he remarked before taking a bite.

"Isn't that statement itself an over-generalization?" She laughed.

He smiled. "It is comforting to know that there are still those in the multiverse who can perceive subtlety even if they never practice it."

She reached over and poked him. "Just because you haven't seen me being subtle doesn't mean I'm not capable of it."

You Mean You Can't Take Less...

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