|All For a Cup of Tea
Author: Nia Moone PM
Oneshot. The chaos that followed a tea party. Hopefully will be extended later.Rated: Fiction T - English - Suspense/Drama - Words: 782 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 12-03-11 - id: 2976267
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Athelstone Park was a quiet and unobtrusive park, set in the quiet suburbs, yet on one clear night, there was an odd gathering there, odder than the time that the Snail Racers annual racing weekend and the Suburban Harpists festival had fatefully landed on the same weekend.
It all began with an odd table that was carefully set upon the neatly manicured lawns of Athelstone Park on that balmy summer's night. It was quite common for the park to have people setting up table and chairs, enjoying a family picnic or two, but these people were different. For a start, most people enjoyed the park during the designated hours between 6AM and 8PM, yet the clocks were currently proclaiming midnight. Secondly, most groups that entered the park were family, or related in some way. Although this group considered themselves closer than family, they weren't related by blood, nor by the compatibility of their day to day interests.
Now this table was odd for a few reasons. The first of which was the objects that were on the table. The surface of this long bench was cluttered with tea pots, cups, saucers, sugar bowls, plates and numerous eating implements, which were normal enough, although they were more stained, mismatched and chipped than the usual fare of crockery. There were also a few other bits and pieces, such as a few live mice that nibbled at spilled crumbs, a collection of dice, not the regular six-sided kind, and not only having numbers, an assortment of cards, cogs and springs from various dismembered devices that were strewn in pieces across the length of the table. There was also a gramophone centrepiece that softly played a collection of pieces from the romantic period. As well as that, there were also several objects that one could find in a few select locations around the world if they knew who and where to ask.
Some of the crockery was broken; some even had fluid on them that had an eerie similarity to blood, and a few sugar pots appeared to have exploded, everything in their small radius wore a thin coat of sugar crystals. The tea-stained table cloth was hanging precariously over one side of the table, and none of the twelve chairs around the table matched. Ten of the twelve chairs were filled, their sitters almost, if not more odd in their appearance than their table.
There were six boys and four girls, and between them all there were precisely seven different hair colours, some of which almost seemed to glow like beacons in the dark of the night. The boys wore a variety of clothes from jeans and t-shirts, to waistcoats and top hats, while the girls wore anything from cocktail dresses, to pyjamas, to 18th century period clothes. There was also no uniformity to how they perched on their chairs, some sat straight, and others slouched and slumped.
The boy seated at the head of the table smirked at his companions as he casually sat with one leg hanging over the armrest of his chair, sipping the murky drink from his floral-patterned cup. Gently setting his cup in a blank saucer, he leapt to his feet, demanding the attention of his peers.
The moment the youth had stood, all at the table turned their eyes to him, they had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Well," he began in a lazy drawl, "I'm glad to see you all here again, and I hope you've had a good break since our last meet." He said with a grin, pushing his dark hair out of his eyes. "This is just an informal celebration before we return once again to the realm of education." This statement was met with a few jeers, mainly from the boys, although one or two of the girls joined in. "The only point of business I wish to bring up is that as you should well know, we have two empty seats. When we reconvene next, bring names of those you think might be capable of filling those roles." He watched his audience carefully, meeting everyone's eyes before continuing. "So chill, chat and enjoy your last night of freedom." The odd boy finished with a curt nod before collapsing onto his seat.
Not missing a beat, the other nine table members raised their oddly patterned cups.
"To us," they chorused in one voice. The dark boy grinned, and raised his cup.
To us," he murmured, before taking a generous swig of his beverage. With the quiet festivities underway, he once again returned to observing his companions, wondering what fun the New Year would bring.