thegreatlibrary | Welcome to the Tea Party

Entry tags:

Welcome to the Tea Party

Who: Open Post!
What: A trip through L-Space
Where: The library and then Wonderland
Warnings: None that can be thought of at the current moment

[It is a lovely day on the grounds of the Library, dear Patrons, but that is not why you are here today. Each of you has, in your own world, received an invitation with very specific directions. It has brought you to the Library, up to the second floor, along to the 33rd row, second shelf, and 27 books along. Perhaps some of you recognise the book, perhaps you do not. It doesn't matter either way. The invitation you received bids you to open the book to chapter 7, page 60.]

[Once doing so, you find yourself removed from the library and someplace altogether very different. It is a bright land, filled with colours and amazing sights. You are invited to walk down a cobbled together path, through the gate and towards the very long table which is all laid out with all manner of things. Various tea-pots and cups litter the surface, and there are cakes, and sandwiches, and other snack type foods. The smells of tea are varied, and you will always be able to find the right brew for yourself]

[That is, of course, except for every so often when the table will just reset itself and everything will be moved around and not where you expect it to be. If something is sitting on the table during a reset? It will be moved, there are no exceptions to this. However, it is hoped you will enjoy your day]

[Welcome, dear patrons, to a mad tea party]

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[There is a scruffy looking young gamin sitting at one of the chairs at the table. He picks up a cup near to him, and sniffs at the nearest tea pot. It doesn't smell bad he reckons, an' it would be a waste just to not use any of this stuff... He pours - with some spills - some tea for himself a sips at it. There's a nod]

Not bad.

[By and large, it's exactly the lovely little sort of break Ophelia could use. By and large, for all its a bit frenetic and overwhelming, it's actually a quite relaxing thing to be at a tea party the size of nearly the entire court of Denmark.

But, at the moment, Ophelia seems to be just a bit put out by something or other. She'd left her seat for only a moment, to examine a rather peculiar patch of flowers growing just beyond the ring of seats, and when she'd returned?]

--where is it?

[Time to rummage carefully among finger sandwiches and pots of tea, it would seem.]

[Odd though a great many things might be, here, Watson has always been inclined to be helpful. It's true, perhaps, that some of the things he and Holmes have been tasked with have worn that instinct down a little, but well. This is hardly Albion and there's no Holmes at had to suggest that perhaps he shouldn't offer hand to someone who's so clearly distressed.]

May I ask what it is you're looking for?

[Ophelia takes half a breath to force her features toward a tight little smile. It doesn't quite reach her eyes, which she can't keep from scanning over the table very long.]

A box. Quite a small one, I'm afraid. About--

[Her hands flutter fretfully, describing the shape of a small vessel just large enough to contain a collection of letters.]

[It isn't that Henry is so utterly out of touch with this sort of thing. It isn't that his mother had never scrubbed him up as a child and shoved him into ridiculously formal clothing for a small boy and dragged him here or there to carefully hold a teacup worth more than his life.

It's just that he's been at sea just a bit too long now not to frown at the table for a few minutes before leaning over to the closest body next to him.]

--which cup do you use? Left or right?

In this odd place, I doubt it matters.

[Faramir is sympathetic to being bewildered by social conventions, but given that they traveled here by book and their host appears to be a giant hare, he doubts anyone overly attentive to their table manners.

...and at that moment the table in question gives a sort of hiccup and rearranges itself, so that the settings the boy has been staring at are now all different. Faramir chuckles a little, wondering.]

I think your best tactic will be to take whichever cup you may, before that happens again and you lose your opportunity.

[It's not a bad strategy. It's good, really, to have any strategy over no strategy, at least until a person could build up sufficient years to fly by the seat of one's pants.

Henry takes barely a beat before snatching up the nearest cup, holding it as carefully as he knows how. He'll wait another few beats before making a grab for any tea to put in it.]

But-- d'you know? Is it right or left?

Right. At least, in my experience. I am not altogether certain my experience applies.

[The table seems to be willing to stand still for a moment, so he reaches for a teapot and examines it, then offers it to his young companion.]

This smells ordinary enough. Would you care for some?

['Right' sounds right. Then again, if it had been said with enough confidence, 'left' would probably have sounded right. What an odd thing to have intense rules about.]

--hm! Please.

[As long as he waits half a beat for the proper amount of intense concentration to wrinkle Henry's brow as he moves to carefully hold out the cup again.]

I should imagine the right, unless things are drastically different, here?

[And to be fair, they could be. It certainly looks like any other tea gathering, but that's nothing to say that Albion's rules of social etiquette apply here.]

[That sounds authoritative enough. Henry still takes a heartbeat before reaching out to carefully pluck up a cup vaguely to his right.]

Might be. [But it doesn't stop him from shrugging slightly.] Still--better to have a rule to follow, isn't it?

[Faramir sits quietly, watching the proceedings with a bemused smile. He looks out of place, with a lordly, military bearing better suited to a great hall and his hands more likely to be holding a sword, or at least goblet, instead of a small ceramic teacup. But when a small, mouselike creature lifts his head and reveals himself to be hiding inside a teapot, apparently drunk on tea, he laughs outright.]

Truly, this place is full of surprises.

[Faramir would be able to spot the bearing of another soldier easily enough. Benedick is sitting just across the table from him, looking at the happenings with a faintly amused smile, having grabbed a sandwich pretty quickly once he had sat down. The colour of everything was amazing and it was just nothing like what he had ever seen before]

Surprise is certainly a word for it. Wonderment may also fit.

[Faramir has indeed noticed the man opposite. One soldier knows another.]

Wonderment indeed. Marvelous would also apply, and even enchanting.

[Since they are playing at words. Faramir takes a drink from his teacup, which looks more than a little silly in his hand.]

I wonder what manner of mind invented this place? Surely a most whimsical one. I have never seen such colours.

Or one addled with... something.

[Look, is that a mouse in one of the pots? Also, is it drunk?]

[Faramir laughs, partly at Benedick's expression and partly because yes, the drunk dormouse is back, and seems to be reciting a poem, though it's a little too high-pitched to be comprehensible.]

A possibility I hadn't considered. I hope the food and drink is safe.

[He doesn't sound worried; there's no air of danger here, and everything tastes ordinary enough.]

But if I turn bright purple, it will serve me right for not being cautious enough.

You think turning purple is a likely occurance, sir?

I fervently hope not.

[At that moment the table re-arranges itself again, and Faramir's cup and saucer disappear with it, replaced by a large slice of cake which he eyes askance.]

Though in this place I begin to think anything is possible, likely or otherwise.

[Benedick blinks, looking in suprise]

... Did everything just change?

Well, this certainly is not my teacup.

[He picks up the plate of cake and examines it. It...looks like cake.]

Then it is ... some kind of enchantment? How... The only word that comes to mind is curious and yet I do not feel curious at all to the nature of this.

Not at all?

[Faramir prods at the piece of cake. It feels like cake as well as looking like cake. Further examination determines that it also tastes like cake, and very good cake at that.]

Enchantment indeed, no doubt, though none such as I have ever seen. I have seen magic before, but never such droll usage.

Then you are more learned than I, sir, for I have never seen anything such as this before.

Hardly learned, for I could never do such myself! But I have met a wizard, and seen a little.

[The table switches itself around again. Welcome back, sleepy dormouse teapot.]

I very much wonder what he would think of this.

I thought wizards only men from stories.

So did I, until I met one! And there are not many, he told me--or at least, not in the lands I call mine. Only five, and they are not men, but something else entirely. I know not exactly what.

[Bendick does seem surprised by this]

I would have thought any land with wizards, they would be many.

There are many who claim magical ability--charlatans, most of them, skilled at sleight-of-hand or other conjuring tricks. True wizards are few, and were born as they are, rather than taking it up as a profession. Or so I have come to understand.

[He looks a little rueful.]

I confess I was a little disappointed when I learned it. When I was a boy, I thought that to learn magic would be a fine thing, if it were possible. But it seems not.

Perhaps it could be, in one of these many book worlds

[Look, they've been brought to a place where the tea service keeps changing itself. Benedick is ruling nothing out at this point]

[Faramir blinks, looking astonished by this idea, then laughs.]

Perhaps I could! I wonder that it had not occurred to me. If nothing else it would be pleasant to unravel the mystery of this damned table.

[Someone put his cup down at an unfortunate moment.]

It must be some kind of enchantment, perhaps one set to drive us all to madness

[The sour look of someone who has also lost their cup]

The chapter was called "A Mad Tea Party." We should have taken it as a warning.

[Here the Dormouse shakes itself, and begins singing in its sleep 'Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, twinkle--". It repeats itself until another guest reaches over and pinches it. Faramir shakes his head and stands up.]

I can certainly say this has been an unusual experience. But I think I am ready to be done with it.

If we had, we would not be here. More fool us.

[The mouse is singing. of course it is. Benedick sighs]

Perhaps retracing our steps will find us back in the library?

Such is my hope.

[He halts upon seeing a large cat with a larger grin poised on a branch above their heads. The cat winks at them unmistakable, then slowly disappears into the air, the grin somehow remaining for a moment after the rest is gone. Faramir shakes his head and walks more quickly.]

If mice may sing and cats do I know not what in this place, which is contained in only one of the many thousands of books contained in the Library, then anything may be possible. And yet for all that, no one knows of a way out.

[Benedick was still looking back to the area that the cat had been, not really doing well with this blatant display of magic]

The obvious answer would be to make our way through the book, but there must be another way

I meant out entirely, back to our original homes.

[He sighs, looking faintly grim.]

My suspicion now is that we all came from books ourselves, and if we might find our own we could return to them. But I greatly dislike the implications of that thought.

Of course we're all stories. I wouldn't expect to be anything else, when it came down to it.

[Benedick takes a more sideway view of it]

Though I suspect we would be prevented or unable to find the ones we belong to. Those are not for our eyes, but one greater. After all, no man may know what's to come in his life.

Would you not?

[Faramir looks surprised.]

You may be right. The Library works in mysterious ways, that much is certain! And though I had never imagined Eru Ilúvatar as a librarian, I must say it appeals to my scholarly nature.

[He has no idea as to who this Eru is but he nods

It makes some level of sense. A life story told in a book

Some sense, and yet--

[He shakes his head.]

I cannot picture myself as the main character. That honor surely belongs to another.

We are main characters and side characters all at once.

By what reasoning?

Well, we will appear in the stories of the people we know, as much as they will appear in ours.

Thus we are the lead in our own life, and a side in someone's else. At least, if I am understanding the terms correctly.

[Here's the thing, the Dodger hadn't actually read the letter. He wasn't much good at the whole reading thing, and most of his attempts just made him angry. What had happened was that he followed someone who came this way, and found himself... well...]

It ain't London, that fer sure

[He picked up one of the cakes at the table, sniffing it as if to inspect it]

No, it certainly isn't.

[There's a faint smile on Watson's face at that. It's not London, and that's... a not inconsiderable relief, given the things that would be hanging over his head were he to be back in his own London. Things that he's grown used to, yes. But things that rather tend to hang over one's head like the Sword of Damocles all the same.]

Make some show though, eh? Probably at that place on Drury Lane.

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Welcome to the Tea Party

Gavroche | Les Misérables

Ophelia | Hamlet

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Henry Wellard | Hornblower

He's too cute to resist.

he's a good boy c:

he truly is

he truly tries :'>

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Faramir | Lord of the Rings

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Is he canon or modern au here? (good with either =) )

canon but not trying to write in shakespeare bc aahhh

Heh, fair. You can only take so much iambic pentameter.

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The Artful Dodger | Oliver Twist

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