Intermission One! The Spider's Family

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Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay-

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The Pearl Café in London was a gorgeous little shop, built in the more affluent area of the city, and set out of the way of the dangerous roads. The late evening meant that the room was sparsely filled, with the main patrons being young ladies with little to do at that time other than idle chit-chat while taking tea.

A bell chimed quietly, and the maitre d bowed politely to the lady who had just stepped inside. Politely, he offered to help her with her coat, which she demurely agreed to. Underneath the bulky black garment, the lady was dressed in a yellow dress with black lace and trimming and a high neck. Long black gloves covered her arms past her elbows, and her face was half-hidden by a large yellow hat. Letting none of his thoughts about her outfit or its colour palette show on his face, the man inclined his head an inch to the side and escorted her to a free table.

Muffet took off her hat and ordered some tea, then she settled down alone with her thoughts. An hour ago, she had been in a similar position, though in a vastly different establishment. Vile and disgusting though it had been, if there was one thing that could be said of such places, it was that they were a wonderful place to overhear things.

For example, she knew that a huge fire had been seen burning throughout last night somewhere in the English countryside. There'd been a manor there, apparently, owned by some old recluse who rarely saw visitors. The circus that had been linked to the children's disappearances had packed up and left earlier that morning. A gunshot had been heard last night as well, so it wouldn't be long before the Yard was on the scene. A man with snakes around his neck and a crate at his side had been seen walking about the English countryside.

"Your tea, Miss." Muffet watched as the waiter poured her tea. "Sugar, Miss?"

"No thank you, I prefer to do it myself," she added milk and sugar to taste, and sipped contentedly. Sometimes it was nice to remind herself that she was technically a member of nobility. Dancing about in a circus ring was fun, but it wasn't like the food tent had bottles of full cream milk and Lady Grey tea on reserve.

Muffet gazed at the pale pink sky through the small circular windows. It was getting late, and she wanted to reach her destination before it got dark.

The sun was just setting when she finally reached home. The streetlights lit up the closed door and the tarnished purple sign above that read Undertaker with a skull above that just in case you weren't sure. Hopping down from the driver's seat, Muffet skipped over to the door and pushed it open. It was never locked after all.

It swung open with a loud creak, and she walked inside. "I'm back!" She trilled, blinking into the gloom. There was no response, but the candles were still burning. She sighed and shut the door behind her. "Where are you hiding now? Are you in the coffins? Did you pickle yourself by accident again?" A skull rolled out from a corner and stopped against her foot. While she was distracted by its unexpected appearance, a shadow moved out from the wall behind her and wrapped itself around her.

Her shocked screech soon turned to an exasperated whine when she realised who it was. "Papa!"

The undertaker chuckled happily. "Welcome home~," he lifted her into the air, grinning widely at her. "How was your little adventure~? Did you have fun~?"

Charlotte pouted back at him, and then huffed. "Yes, I had fun. It was very interesting, especially near the end!"

"Oh, really~?" He cooed, spinning her around and making her squeal with laughter. "Why don't I bring out some biscuits and tea, and you can tell me all about it~?" Still giggling quietly to himself, Undertaker placed her on one of the coffins and bustled around the room gathering plates for the biscuits and clean jars for the tea. Muffet smoothed out her skirt primly, smiling after him. It was nice to be home.

She arched an eyebrow at the dusty money chest that had been pushed aside carelessly. "Papa, you can't keep asking people to pay you in laughs. That's not a feasible business strategy."

"But laughs are far more valuable~," he replied. He returned back to her side, this time bearing a tray of dry biscuits and two glass jars of tea. One of the jars had been infused with enough sugar and milk that it was almost cream instead of liquid. He handed that one to her, and then chomped down on a snack. "What am I going to do with paper currency my dear~?"

"Maybe hire someone to clean this place up a bit?" She retorted dryly, which just made him cackle some more. "I'm not kidding papa. This place looks like…" she paused, realising she'd been about to say a tomb, and rolled her eyes at the knowing smile on his face. "Never mind."

Undertake giggled and poked her cheek with one long, sharp nail. "Although I especially missed our little jokes, Lottie~. I was extremely bored without you~."

"What? Not enough dead people?" She pretended to be shocked, and smirked when he chuckled. If there was a business that was bound to be lucrative in Victorian England, then it had to be that of a mortician. You worked with corpses, and there was always bound to be one of those around.

"Oh there were quite a few of those, Lottie," he sighed dramatically. "Mostly police officers and Yard officials. But you have no idea how boring it is to be so out of the loop~."

"Oh really?" Charlotte peeled off her gloves and rotated her joints happily. "Then I guess you want to know the whole story, don't you?"