A Mad Tea Party
Faust sat in the mysterious garden, lit by moonlight and surrounded by a forest. A meadow of sorts... only, it lay within the foundations of his immense Gothic castle. Faust was a tall, slender man with fine, sharp features and long, wavy red hair. He was clean shaven, wore thin spectacles and a fine purple velvet suit topped with a purple velvet top-hat with a black band and a large poker card. Incidentally, the card was the Joker. In his white gloved hand was a silver watch, which did not tick and was forever stuck at 6 o'clock. Not a second moved, and the pale man smiled, his emerald eyes gleaming with something alien.
With his other gloved hand, this one a black leather glove rather than a white silk glove, he took a sip of tea from a tiny tea cup. His chair was made of onyx, and looked more like a throne than a normal chair, and it was at the "head" of the large, circular stone table, where sat ordinary gilded chairs with plush red leather cushions. The table, interestingly enough, was of Celtic design, with Nordic runes lining its "edges". In each chair at each "end" of the table were the most interesting of characters.
Oghma, the Spider Queen, sat at the opposite end of the table. She assumed a human-esque form, appearing like a beautiful young woman nearing her twenties. She adopted a Tomoe hair style for her long, silver hair, which graciously complemented her dark, tanned skin. Her eyes were, oddly enough, multi-faceted rubies in their almond-shape. It seemed as though she could see everywhere and nowhere all at once. From her back were her other four appendages, which could easily have been mistakened for wings if not for the fact there was no substance in between them to allow it a single draft. She wore an exotic black dress, which possessed a deep V-neck outlined with tufts of black fur. She also wore long gloves of black silk, which reached the middle of her slender biceps. Faust particularly liked her, for she had a sharp wit and could spin stories as though she were spinning her own web.
At Faust's left was a penguin by the name of Fred, who wore a red bowtie made of the finest satin, with a tiny black top-hat with a white paper band, a long turquoise feather inside the band, a monocle, and in his flipper was a cane made of permafrost; crystalline and otherworldly, Faust would say if he had a single sane thought in his mind. He particularly liked Fred because the penguin would often make a joke about nothing, and never could the penguin remain on the topic at hand. And thus the conversations at the tea party often shifted before anything could be concluded.
At the opposite end of Fred was Nihil, a quiet fellow with black hair, long in the front and short in the back, wearing a peculiar goatee. His eyes were of the purest black, not a single white graced his sclera, and his lips were of the most sickening of blues. His lids were covered in dark circles, his skin as pale as snow with green tints here and there. Faust almost always confused him with a corpse, despite the fact that the man was not particularly bloated and appeared more skeletal if anything else. Then again, Faust constantly saw him as a corpse for just that very reason: either way you look at it, whether a bag of bones or a bloating critter, they were both dead things. Nihil wore a black suit with a white dress shirt, but did not particularly wear a hat. He did, however, wear a lovely crimson tie. It reminded them all of blood, so dark and beautiful.
On top of Faust's marvelous hat was a peculiar looking bunny. It was technically a full grown rabbit, mind you, but Faust preferred to call it a bunny due to the fact that it was adorable. It was snow white, with antlers, scarlet eyes, and a pair of fangs. It, too, wore a top hat; it was white with a black band, and dangling from it's brim off to the "side" was a rabbit's foot, which was dyed teal. Faust named him Jibberjabber.
The rest of the chairs were empty, but Faust believed that more people would come to partake in the tea party. After all, it began at 6 o'clock and wouldn't end until 6 o'clock, wherein it'll begin at 6 o'clock once more. And so, the four of them sipped their tea for some time in silence, until Faust, at last, spoke. "This tea is delicious!" He cried triumphantly. "It took many tries, but I finally managed to make it perfect! Thirteen lumps of sugar, a touch of cream..." Faust paused dramatically in the midst of speaking about the perfection of his beloved tea. "And a teaspoon of blood."
"Ah, Faust, deary," Oghma in a purring tone. "You truly are a genius at your craft. Why, just the other day, I was speaking to the Dragon just outside of your beloved home. He was arguing with me about how I would not look pretty in this dress. So, I ate him."
"Marvelous!" Faust clapped joyously. "Say, did you leave behind his eyes? It would be nice to use them for the ball tomorrow evening."
"If tomorrow ever comes..." Nihil murmured wearily. "It's only now six in the evening, yet not a second nor a minute has passed. For all I know, tomorrow is yesterday and today is tomorrow."
"Why Nihil, that reminds me of a grand ol' story," Fred replied swiftly. "Once there was a man from Nantucket..."
"By the Tentacles Beneath, Fred!" Faust interrupted. "Think of the children."
"Children?" Oghma and Nihil asked dubiously.
"Yes, the children... the orphans... they are right in front of us, you know. The roast chicken, the battered pork... the pie." Faust confirmed.
"Ah, what lovelies they are!" Oghma exclaimed, licking her rose-red lips as she looked at the meal. "I believe I'll have the leg of that one right over there, and perhaps some more of that dastardly tea!"
"Dastardly!" Faust yelled, rising from his seat. "Dastardly?!" He yelled again, rage in his emerald eyes, their cat-like pupils contracting dangerously. Oghma shrank into her seat, afraid that she would get the boot. "I tell you, woman, that this infernal tea is divine! It is an art that you cannot comprehend! You do not see me spinning webs with my teeth! Why, I can hardly spin anything without my faithful shoe."
"Why must we always talk about this blasted tea?" Nihil asked moodily. "We drink nothing but tea, and it's always six o'clock."
"That's because it's tea-time, my dear Nihil," Faust replied cheerfully, his ire forgotten. "Why, just the other day I was drinking tea with the gopher; you know, Phillis. She's quite wiley, that one. Until I shoved her into the pot. She didn't stir for at least one hundred and eighty years. Now that was horrible tea, my friend."
"Why Faust, shoving a gopher into tea doesn't make for a very good biscuit," Fred replied pointing at the odd-looking rabbit with his cane.
"I once saw a gopher," Nihil began, staring blankly across the table. "His name was Albert. I ought to bring him some time. A better companion than I, I'm sure."
"Oh, my dear Nihil," Faust sighed, as though preparing to comfort a child. "You're the life of my parties; even when there's no one else here but you. Why, I should give you a slab of mutton... or a slab of your arm. Either way, I shall give you gifts when you least expect them... or never. I suppose it depends. Probably after the tea party."
"Do they end?" Nihil asked, sighing with great melancholy. "If they do, I must never be awake. And when they begin, I'm always not here. Or I am. Or perhaps I dream of these parties and never wake. Or I'm awake, always dreaming of them."
"Why Nihil!" Oghma began, smiling. "You're so poetic. Why, if I had the amount of joy you possessed... well... I wouldn't know what to do with it! Please, recite me a lovely poem!"
"Bah!" Faust snorted. "Poetry is for the criminally insane. Why, just the other day, Jeeves (my butler, you know) hired a man to recite poetry for me. It was so horrendous and cacophonous that I had no choice but to fire him. But, the burning meat was more than I could bear, so I gave the burnt carcass to my beloved Jibberjabber and his bunnies."
"Ah, and what about the roses?" Asked Fred the penguin. "How do you keep them so well-kept during the winter?" As the penguin asked the question, he was staring at the rose bed, which literally surrounded the garden and littered the castle's forest.
"Now that, Fred, is a family secret..." Faust said cheerfully. Just as they were all about to sigh, he burst out laughing. "I used my family, of course!"
Oghma gasped with glee, smiling widely. Her Cheshire grin revealed razor-sharp fangs, her teeth perfectly, and abnormally, white. "Please elaborate, Faust! If you tell me your secret, I shall tell you mine!"
"Of course, my darling," Faust said with a low bow. "It all began with my second cousin, Horus. He was blathering to me about needing some money. I told him to enter the vault at the bottom of my castle, and he went. When he opened the vault..." he paused a moment as the three guests leaned in, eager to know the answer; even poor, unenthusiastic Nihil was eager to hear the answer. "BAM!" He yelled, falling back into his seat. Jibberjabber clinged to Faust's hat for dear life, not ready to fly off and die. "He triggered the spike trap. Now, you all know I'm a very clean man. I did not appreciate my selfish, unthoughtful second cousin bleeding on my floor without my permission. And so, I took him into the kitchen, demanded my maids to clean up the mess and to use the blood to water the roses. Then, I had to bury the idiot as punishment for pouring blood onto my nice, clean floor. So after I drained the rest of his blood so he couldn't cause any more mischief, I buried him in the garden so my roses could grow better. And they did." Faust elaborated this by spreading his arms wide, allowing them all to view the garden and notice the ugly, wicked, and wilting roses.
"So beautiful..." they all murmured with delight.
"Quite," Faust said with satisfaction.
"But, then, what of the crumpets?" Oghma asked, frowning.
"Weren't you supposed to bring them?" Faust asked.
"Ah! Of course!" Oghma exclaimed in revelation, searching her bag at the side of her chair. Finally, she smiled and brought forth a large silver platter of what they deemed as "crumpets", which was in reality bugs, rodents, and other miscellaneous things wrapped thickly in webbing. She sat the platter onto the circular stone table, but no one reached for them.
"Ah-hah!" Faust exclaimed. He brought forth a tiny silver bell and rang it with great enthusiasm. From the shadows of the forest approached a tall, bald, skeletal-looking man wearing nothing but black save for a red tie. He was as well dressed as the rest of the party, but unlike them, he seemed quite sane. His eyes, small, beady, and black, were quite dead. His skin, not quite as pale as Nihil's skin, was still quite pale. He looked to be middle aged.
As he approached Faust, he gave a deep bow and looked at his master with those dead eyes. "Jeeves, my beloved butler! You came just in the knick of time! Please, spread out the crumpets evenly about us, if you will."
Jeeves said nothing and simply obeyed, grabbing the platter and handing out the grotesque crumpets. They all received an equal share, except for Faust, who got double the amount. "Would you like to join us Jeeves?" Faust asked, almost as though he were bored. The butler said nothing. "Fine, off with you then. You have work to do anyway. Do something about those rats; they're killing my cheese!"
Jeeves practically melded into the darkness as he went to perform his task.
"A good man," Faust began anew. "But hardly the sort to be doing boring work. He's the most exciting man in the world, and yet enjoys performing the most heinous of chores."
"I concur," spoke Fred. "But sadly, the pidgeons keep plucking my crumbs of bread off the street!"
"Dearest Fred," said Oghma. "Pidgeons are the most loveliest of creatures. You could learn a thing or two from them. Like being able to breathe fire and ice, or learning to fly. Why, you would be marvelous at flying!"
"A flying penguin?" Nihil laughed sardonically. "It's as likely to happen as a worm learning how to be a gentleman."
"Worms are quite gentlemanly, I assure you," Faust chimed in with little to no enthusiasm. "They court and marry the dirt. I once had a conversation with a worm. Said he knew of another who could breathe fire and ice, with great wings that could cause a monsoon with a single flap. He also told me that his beloved wife, Dustine, is quite faithful and that they hardly ever quarrel. The only time they argue is when the laundry gets dirty or if a snake happens to walk in and interrupt their afternoon tea."
"You're quite mad, Faust," Nihil retorted. "Associating yourself with worms? They are beneath our station. Why, I'd rather speak to a peasant than to a worm."
"Are you insulting Bill? Bill, I'll have you know, is the most wealthy and royal of the worms. He is nearly a king amongst them! Why, if you speak ill of Bill, I'll cut out your eyes and place them into your heart... then you will know how dark and gloomy life truly is."
"Maddening..." Oghma groaned.
"Right so, old chap," Fred chimed in, siding with Faust. "Life is dark enough to drive us mad. Thankfully we're as sane as ducks."
"Ducks are quite mad," Faust murmured. "They're like doctors! They're quacks, the lot of them."
"I once knew an insane doctor," Oghma added. "He was rather ill with cholera and had a habit of speaking in rhyme. And every time I saw him, he would throw random things at me. Mostly shoes and boots, but sometimes scalpels and syringes, too."
"Speaking of throwing things..." the host mumbled. "It is nearly tea time."
"It's 6 o'clock already?" Nihil groaned, taking a bite from a drumstick. "Time truly is cruel."
"Worry not, Nihil," Faust murmured comfortingly. "You will be the life of the tea party; why, I just invited Oghma and Fred! Just for you. For me. For all of us. Especially for you."
"You're very considerate, Faust," Nihil said with much melancholy. "But truly I need to leave. I grow weary of this meaningless chatter."
"Nihil, my dearest friend," Faust cooed with a frown. "Do not wound me by your leaving. Your company keeps me sane. Keeps you sane. Keeps us all sane. Your sorrow is the brightest light, and truly you would not be so selfish as to take that light away from those in need?"
Nihil contemplated this conundrum with great effort. On one hand, he was really, truly tired. On the other, he had much disdain for those who did not share with those in need. After much consideration, Nihil remained in his seat. "Of course I'm not so selfish as to deprive my friends from my light. But, I must leave after 6 o'clock."
"Of course!" Faust agreed appreciatively. "Now... would you like some tea? I made it especially for you, my dear friend."
"Of course," Nihil replied with a tone of indifference. "I appreciate your hospitality."
Oghma spoke up swiftly. "Dear Faust," she began. "When shall you ever visit the dearies? They've been wanting to see you for quite some time. So much so, that I wish you could come over. Why, just the other day they tried to smother me! I love my children so, but too much love can kill a woman, you know."
"Yes, yes," Faust agreed, his expression one of great contemplation. "I shall see them tomorrow, just before 6 o'clock. In the mean time, before you leave, I shall give you a gift to give to them. They would absolutely love it!"
"Oh!" Oghma brightened up. "May I ask what this marvelous gift is?"
"A penguin!" Faust cried, laughing merrily.
"Now where are you going to get a penguin, my dear friend?" Fred asked, his tone one of curiosity and bliss.
"You'll know when you see it, dear Fred," Faust reassured him. "For now, enjoy some tea. Your eyes are starting to swell."
"Ah, tea does keep my swellings down," Fred agreed, sipping a cup of cold tea. "You know me so well, Faust. So much so, it reminds me of a story. I was walking down the street and I saw a polar bear. He wanted to give me a hug. I took his eyes instead."
"Truly, you are a clever penguin," Faust guffawed. "You took only what you need and not what you want. You're very wise."
"Indeed," Oghma concurred. "Why, just this morning, I found an elk along the road. Dead, of course, because a live elk wouldn't let me talk to him for hours on end. After telling him my story, I gave him some of my eggs for dinner tonight. The poor truly are caring creatures."
"Ah, but I have met a live elk once," Faust began. "Quite a clever rascal that one. It took me hours to mount him onto the wall above the fireplace. He wouldn't quit squirming. So, I had to chop off his body just to get his head onto the wall."
"Living things are often troublesome," Nihil added. "Which is why I avoid them. Of course, you are all the exception. You're not as lively as the living, but not as boring as the dead, either. You're perfect just the way you are. Which is why you're imperfect; thus perfect. It is a sickening cycle."
Faust remained quiet as he lounged back into his chair, sipping tea and dipping the web crumpets into the tea as he ate them. The peculiar rabbit on his head tumbled down from the hat and onto Faust's lap, and then an idea came to him like a bolt of lightning. "Since I am the host of this little tea party, I propose that I entertain you!"
They all cheered and agreed, clapping their hands together. "Yes," Oghma giggled. "Show us one of your many talents!"
"That is the plan, my dear Spider Queen," Faust remarked severely, making the woman shrink back into her seat. Faust removed his hat from atop his head as he pulled out a thin stick, a baton, from the breast pocket of his suit. He tapped the hat as he faced the opening downward with the baton. "There is nothing in the hat, aye?" He began, and they all nodded, absorbed in the entertainment. One thing everybody knew: nothing was ever allowed to step foot into that hat. "Now watch as I pull something out of the hat's bottom. No sleight of hand, no deception; purely magic." As if to emphasize his point, he flicked the baton towards Oghma, who was about to throw herself out of her chair (vainly, for the baton spun through the air faster than she could move), until the baton burst into thousands upon thousands of black rose petals. Their sweet scent filled her nostrils and she was quickly at ease again.
Faust thrust his hand into the hat, more than elbow deep and his hand did not break through the top. He was wholly concentrated on the trick, and when he finally grasped something, he smiled widely and let out a loud "ah-hah!" When he pulled his hand out of the hat, a penguin appeared. To be more precise, it was Fred, who had just been sitting next to Oghma just seconds ago.
They all clapped except for Fred, whose face was locked in consternation. The poor thing shuddered and couldn't speak. "And for my next trick..." Faust began, aloof. He casually tossed the penguin across the table, landing in Oghma's lap. "I shall pull the World out of my hat!"
There were many oooooohs and aaaaaaahs from Oghma and the ever melancholic Nihil; but the penguin shivered in Oghma's lap, unaware of what was happening. Faust shoved his hand shoulder-deep into the hat, and with some visible difficulty, he was able to pull out a beautiful marble with many blues and greens. It was the size of the human eye. When he moved it, the world around them rocked and churned. "The World! How beautiful. Why, it would make for a beautiful necklace, don't you think Oghma?" Faust asked, eyes twinkling.
"I think it would be better if we simply destroyed it." Nihil interrupted, his pessimism thick in the air.
"Bah! I think it would make for a marvelous necklace. Or a ring. Or an eye..." Faust argued playfully, though his eyes were fastened on the beautiful Spider Queen.
"I agree, it would make for a beautiful eye. Why, it would make you all the more handsome, Lord Faust!" Oghma chimed, eyes fastened on the beautiful marble.
Faust smiled and bowed. "Perhaps, it should be given to Nihil. His melancholy could use another color than simply greys and blacks. Why, anything blacker than black would kill poor Nihil!"
"Truly you are selfless!" Oghma gasped, pleased at the idea of charity.
"Truly I am selfish," Faust retorted whimsically. "For I want Nihil to have it, and I will not take 'no' for an answer. In fact, I'm more selfish because it would make me happy to make him happy. Or dead."
"Truly, you are kind," Nihil said with much mockery. "Is it past six?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Oh no, it's still 6 o'clock right now!" Faust replied enthusiastically.
"Ah, then I suppose I have no choice but to accept your offer, my friend," Nihil groaned, rising from his chair and approaching Faust. "If you truly wish it, then I will selflessly indulge you." Faust grabbed Nihil's shoulder and brought him closer. With his empty hand, he quickly plucked out Nihil's eyes and deftly replaced the empty socket with the World. Nihil cried out in pain and ecstasy throughout the endeavor, and eventually fell back, placing his hand over the wound. When he finally removed his hand, tears of blood ran down his face and he laughed with a kind of mania that brought a smile to Faust's face.
"There, he's happy now. Happy in his own sadness. Such a delight." He said merrily, though his smile quickly faded. "But now he'll be boring. Boring!" Faust huffed with anguish. Before he could remedy the situation, Nihil ran away, laughing, towards the forest. Before he could make it to the edge, tendrils of thorns rushed out and greeted the euphoric man, impaling him.
"No one leaves my garden until the tea party is over," Faust scolded the corpse, whose head lolled back and whose face was locked in a wide grin of ultimate despair. Faust stomped here and there, throwing a tantrum of obscene rage. "We're no longer friends, Nihil! So much so, that I'm going to take your head. Your body has no use to me, anyway. You can keep that blasted thing and leave. Never return, or I will feed you to my jackalopes..." And with that, Faust walked away, only to stop, turn, and stare at the pools of blood. "And you have spilled blood onto my garden! How dare you insult me so, sir! I say good day!" Faust shouted, grabbing the corpse's head by the hair and ripping it off. He returned to the table and slammed the head back onto the silver platter, and marched back over to the corpse.
"And more blood! Why, I'm starting to think you truly wanted to end our friendship. How dare you disrespect my home by spilling blood everywhere!" Faust reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver bell, flailing it around; the once beautiful sound was now a cacophony of screeches and shrills, a sound so ugly that one would question if there was such a thing as a banshee. Jeeves appeared from the dark of the forest as he had once done, shadows melting away from him like silk curtains. "Jeeves! Show Nihil the way out. Or don't. Feed him to my bunnies. But clean up this mess!" Faust ordered Jeeves, his rage radiating with a chillness that made even the darkness creep away from him. Jeeves simply bowed and said nothing, tending to his business and ringing a bell of brass. The other servants appeared, all ghoulish and ugly, tending to the blood in the garden and to the body. Eventually, nothing was left.
Faust sat back down at the table. "It's one past six. The tea party is over," he said merrily, though his eyes had shown a sadness that was only reminiscent to a child who's day was at an end. "Ta-ta!" He told Oghma, who watched the affair with much amusement. With a nod, she rose from her seat, the penguin shoved into sack of webbing, and she began to leave.
"Oh!" She yelped suddenly, turning to Faust. "You will come to see the darlings tomorrow? Will you bring them a gift?" Oghma asked, saddened to leave.
"Of course! You know I can never resist their cheeky grins, their glimmering fangs, and their cute, bulbous bodies! Why, they look very delicious!"
Oghma laughed, bowed, and left the garden whilst carrying with her, Fred the Penguin. Faust sat alone in the garden for some time, staring at his watch and ignoring the head that sat at the center of the table.
It was nearing six o'clock.