The Mad TeaParty
Prologue: Part One
The fall afternoon smiled upon everyone, the men, women, and children. The forsaken, the sinners and the saints, anyone who happened to be out on such a glorious morning had some sort of bounce to their step be it small or large. All except the jester.
Belial meandered slowly down the fairly empty gravel pathways of the park in the middle of the town. Why it had settled there, no one but it could have known. It was a small town, where everyone was in everyone else's business, surely not a place for a gender ambiguous clown. Still, there it was among the tall elm and oak trees, looking almost serenely at the surroundings.
A group of teenagers dressed in black tried to smoke without being noticed in a group of bushes far off the beaten path. Also in it's line of vision was a mother pushing two younglings in a stroller, one had carrot red hair and blue eyes, the other dark black with brown eyes.
Naughty, naughty, Belial thought with a smirk rising to it's slim lips, mommy's been a bit busy on maternity leave, hasn't she?
This whole 'holy community' thing was more of a fraud than it seemed. The smoking teenagers, the mother with babies from two different men, and now up ahead, a man talking to a little girl that was sitting alone on a bench. The clown's smirk faded. She was so innocent and trusting, that little girl-she smiled up at the man, her two front teeth missing, as he leered down at her almost licking his chops. She had no mother in sight, no guardian-so she must be out on her own.
Since the scene was on it's way, Belial decided to interfere with the man's plans. It enjoyed the trouble it caused, and mainly this was the reason that it did stop, not for the little girl's sake, but for the sake of it's own amusement.
"Excuse me, sir," the clown interrupted as the man was going to take the girl's hand, "by what way of logic do you see yourself fit to be in the presence of such an...Angelic little girl?"
The man bristled, and lifted his head expecting to find a man there, only to find a white face, with a mask of black around the eyes. "Fuck off, freak." The five o'clock shadow on his face gave him a more gruff appearance, still Belial noticed that he could be quite handsome if he had shaved. And his clothes were casual, even though he carried himself like a businessman. He obviously was from the city a few miles away.
"Not in the presence of such innocence," Belial pretended to scold the man, it's mouth turning into a smirk once more.
"Listen, freak, why don't you keep on walking?" He glanced over the intruding stranger and frowned. He couldn't tell what shoes this 'guy' was wearing, but pants and coat 'he' wore, both in black set him on edge. "I don't need no...Goth telling me what to do."
"Goth? No. Mearly just appreciating the absence of color, and light."
"What the fuck do you want, clown?" It was comical to Belial how a vein on the man's head almost popped out, it was getting to him, and it knew it too.
"To invite this youngling to a tea party," it's smirk grew and it produced a bouquet of deep purple and black flowers out of nothing and handed it to the little girl, who giggled and took the flowers, pressing them to her nose to smell.
All by her logic the new stranger was a nice person. This, Chuck, as he called himself, who told her that her mother was waiting for her at home didn't have flowers. This new person did, and they said they were going to throw her a tea party. Mommy could wait. And that was six-year-old logic.
"Lemme go!" The girl began trying to wrench her tiny hand from Chuck's big one, "I wanna tea party!"
Chuck's bushy eyebrows narrowed at Belial, "don't screw with me clown," he growled.
Such an unnecessary display of testosterone. It looked down at the little girl whom seemed close to a panic. "Your little agenda would be ruined if she began to get frightened and scream. Be sure no parent in the park wouldn't mind taking a criminal like yourself in."
The man's free fist clenched, he knew that asshole was right, and he hated it, but still he let the girl go. He watched as the figure in black simply opened a black lace-gloved hand for the girl to take. The girl took it and smiled up at the jester, who only patted her head in return.
"Until next time, sir." Belial mimed tipping a hat to him and turned leading the girl off.
No words were said as they walked off the path and across one of the many open patches of grass, that afternoon. The girl simply smiled, her braids bouncing behind her. Her hair faded from a mousy brown at the root to a fair blonde at the end, signaling that as she grew her hair would darken. She wore a bright green T-shirt, with equally as bright blue shorts, and generic tennis shoes that Belial believed to have come from a Payless or some such place.
Such is the look of a small town girl that has no inkling of who she will be in ten years, the jester thought a grin almost playing upon its lips.
They headed past the smokers and into the lush green woods that the park held. It was man made, though it looked like something from a storybook. Clear paths, random clearings, clear streams and bubbling brooks dotted the little forest.
As they walked the girl brought the flowers to her nose, every few minutes, smiling whenever she did. The flowers were not colorful, but they were beautiful to her, she loved them.
The odd pair stepped into a clearing a stream ran quietly along one side. The grass was green, and the occasional toadstool that popped up from the carpet of grass was a rosy red. The little girl's eyes widened with wonder, such a place didn't exist in the park as far as she knew. She let go of the stranger's hand and ran about swinging the bouquet laughing merrily.
Belial watched for a moment, amusement playing in its eyes. It shuddered to think that it seemed to have a soft spot for the child somewhere. "Come, child," the clown's voice seemed to echo through the clearing.
The girl paused and walked back over to Belial looking up almost pleading not to leave. When the stranger said nothing the girl looked down at the flowers and frowned. "Sit down."
The child looked up to see that the stranger was no longer in front of her, she turned in alarm and came upon a wondrous sight. There sat the stranger, seated at a little table that seemed to be made out of the same grass that covered the earth where she stood--there were also a few matching chairs around the table. The stranger was at one, next was a chair that held a stuffed doll, and across from the stranger was an empty seat. Her seat. She ran and then neatly sat herself across from the stranger.
The tablescape was an event in itself. The dishes, the teapot, the sugar bowl, even the stirring spoons seemed to be made out of nearly translucent purple glass--what awed her about that was there were little pink veins running through it, in an almost flowery pattern.
How this just appeared out of nowhere brought a question to the child's mind:
"Who are you?"
"One's name is Mad Hatter."
"I'm Liza." The clown only nodded as it gracefully picked up the teapot, and offered some to the girl. The saucer and cup were picked up and the liquid was poured into it.
"What are we drinking, Mad Hatter?"
"Tea." Belial watched as the girl's nose crinkled in disgust. "I assure you, child, this is nothing like the tea you may have had before. You will enjoy it."
Still wary, Liza picked up the cup slowly, and brought it to her lips, she tentatively took a first sip and then she gulped the rest down greedily. It tasted like vanilla and chocolate--her two favorite things in existence...but this was tea. "Mad Hatter, how did you-"
"It's simple child. One is nothing but a jester." Belial began to explain with it's actions, to show Liza what it meant. It reached into it's right sleeve and slowly pulled back revealing festively colored cloths all strung together in a fantastically long rope. For nearly five minutes the clown pulled out the cloths before it came to a black one. "Now watch." It rolled the black cloth into a ball and hid it in it's hands and then tossed it into the air, and somehow the black cloth had turned into a pitch black raven, with the cloth that came before it tied to one of it's small feet.
Normally, it wouldn't have bothered to show off the mear parlor trick it could easily do, but the clown wanted to keep the girl's affections. What that meant to it wasn't clear, not even to Belial itself, but it had this feeling...
"So you can do whatever you want?"
"One can do anything if One's master permits." Liza's brow furrowed, but she asked nothing of this new person's 'master'.
The afternoon wore on, the girl and the clown passed the time by drinking tea, and Belial performing little tricks every now and then.
Liza even told Belial a story, her imagination soaring as she described a fantasy world. "There is dew on the pale blue grass all the time. There are huge periwinkle toadstools and a deep royal purple sky all day, with two moons always shining. The flowers, are little lights, in all shades of blue, and the bushes they are on glow from them. The trees are huge; everything about them is. The leaves are as big as your face..."
On and on she went, Belial just sat and listened silently, just nodding where it was called for. This young one had such an imagination, she had created such a beautiful world in blue and purple hues.
When darkness began to fall, the girl's rant drew to a close, and the clown spoke:
"Is that where you would reside if you could?" Liza tilted her head, the vocabulary was foreign to her.
"...Reside?" Belial smirked softly.
"Live, child. Live."
"Oh...yes. All by myself." Liza straightened herself, waiting intently for the next bit of conversation.
This was curious to the jester. A little girl whom seemed to have such a happy existence wanting to leave her family and her little friends behind? "Why not take your loved ones with you?"
"I don't love them," she began to mess with one of her braids obviously uncomfortable with revealing what she had so openly said. Liza knew it wasn't right, or at the very least normal not to love her family.
Belial said no more. It understood, and wasn't about to probe even further, it was late and the girl should be missed by now. "Gather your things, child."
Panic came across Liza's face, "but--"
"One believes it is time for One to leave. Surely you cannot stay here alone." The clown stood and gestured to the flowers, "keep them if you wish."
Liza stood, picked her blue shorts from where they had ridden up, putting them back into a normal presentable position, and clutched onto the bouquet, walking silently and slowly from the grass table and chairs.
Belial followed putting a guiding hand on the girl's shoulder, leading her out of the clearing, back throughout the perfectly made paths, through the park and out onto the street of the town. It lead the little girl lead it down one street, right onto another and then right onto another before making a left onto a residential street.
Liza led it to a little white house with a dark green trim on the far end of the cookie cutter street. She looked up at it, the front light was on, and she could see a figure pacing in the front window. Maybe she had been gone too long. The girl sighed, and looked up at the stranger that had, in her opinion, become her friend. "Goodbye, Mad Hatter," she paused and then added, "thank you for taking me home."
Belial glanced down at the girl without movement, and then slowly, as if it's arm were lead, it patted the girl on the head, "not goodbye, child--only a brief intermission." Before the girl could once more question it's vocabulary, the clown produced a doll and handed it to her. "Now go inside."
It watched the girl jog down the cement path and put her hand on the door, her arms stuffed with gifts. She attempted a wave, only to drop the doll and the flowers, hastily she picked them up, taking her eyes off the figure on the street.
A creak sounded. An alarmed Liza squeaked in surprise and clutched the doll and flowers to her chest, her mother stood at the door looking down at her, tears in the corners of her old eyes.
"Elizabeth! Where in god's name have you been? Your father and I were worried sick!" The woman scooped up her child in her arms and brought her inside.
Over her mother's shoulder, Liza brought her eyes back to the street. The Mad Hatter was gone; before the thought fully registered, she was dropped gently onto the couch between her mother and father.
"Elizabeth, where did you get those things?" Her father tried to pry the bouquet out of her arms, but she screamed. His hands were big and callused they were too clumsy to hold the delicate arrangement without damaging it.
"No! Leave them alone!" Her father hastily withdrew his hand and placed it on his knee.
"But..." her mother paused, unsure of how to approach the subject, she sighed and closed her eyes before looking around their living room as if searching for an answer. A cream leather chair and sofa, white bare walls, and a big screen TV stared back at her. She still didn't know what to say.
"From who?"
"A friend."
"Who!" Her father's tone scared her she shrunk against the back of the couch, her grip only tightening.
"The Mad Hatter," she whispered.
"...What?" Liza's mother tilted her chin up to look at her, "baby, who?"
"The Mad Hatter," she now said with confidence. Then, knowing they'd want a full explanation she began a full account of the afternoon's events, her time in the park and all. When it was over, Liza watched her parents' exchange the 'look'.
"Bill?"
"Later," was all he ground out before rising and walking to the back of his house. His daughter just described something that was frightening--first a man tried to take her somewhere in the park, and then the Mad Hatter had taken her to tea.
It's shock...she's in shock, he told himself as he paced in his bedroom, tomorrow we'll call someone and she'll be okay. I know it.
"I swear I'm not lying," he heard his daughter scream from the other room. Then, softly:
"Honey, the Mad Hatter isn't real."
End of … Prologue: Part One
A.N.It took me the better part of three hours over a couple of days to finish this chapter, and as of yet it's probably the longest chapter I've written. This whole thing started off as just something to add to when I got bored, but then the plot arch began to take hold, and behold: five pages of Hatter goodness. I do believe the Mad Hatter is my favorite character to write, after Breaking the Habit I've been itching to write something else centered around he/she/it.
I think I've done a fairly good job so far (I hope so anyway) and I'm also hoping others think so too. If not, fine-just tell me what I need to work on.
Anyway, review please—anything even just a 'please continue' inspires me to keep going just that much more. (It also boosts the ego, and that can't hurt can it? )
Disclaimer: (for the whole fic) I own nothing that even resembles Kaori Yuki's work. I own Liza, her family, friends, and the concept.