#tcups

He leaned over to replace the second guitar, the plastic bag once more crinkling as he brushed it. A flash of colour in the bag caught his eye. From beneath the remaining plastic packets he lifted a fashion patch. A simple red shield with two swords crossed on top. Mally turned the patch over in his hand, running a thumb along the stitch work as a soft smile plucked at the corner of his mouth.

Thackery trudged into the green room lounge, collapsing into the nearest chair at the table. The raucous sounds of the rest of the band paused outside the door kept his attention pulled that way until the noises split and began to travel in different ways, a sure sign his friends were heading to their dressing rooms instead of the lounge. A half-smile tugged at a corner of the March Hare’s mouth as he listened to the voices fade away into silence. After a moment he allowed his body to slump forward, far enough to rest his forehead against the tabletop as his teal ears splayed across the cool metal surface.

He couldn’t think of many things he enjoyed more than performing for the humans in their park of amusements, at least not in this world. But by the Mirror, it was exhausting. The sheer amount of energy needed to not only keep up with the fast-paced music but also the Hatter and Alice and even Mally as they cavorted across the stage endlessly every night was staggering, and not for the first time Thackery found himself a little relieved to be done with the mayhem for a moment. The chaos here had a different flavor, a different sense than the madness they knew back home.

Home. Sometimes Thackery longed to be done with the T Party and be returned to the real thing, the long table in the meadow and him and Tarrant and Mally and endless tea...

The room around him pulsed with a weird purple-teal glow cast across everything. The Hare jumped back in his seat, the chair legs squealing harshly against the concrete floor. He took a deep breath and looked down. His hands were clawed against the edge of the table.

It took a minute to convince his fingers to uncurl and he quickly stepped away from the table. He spun around, reaching for the cabinets where they kept the tea things even as he teetered slightly. The glow was starting to fade and he didn’t want to think about why it had existed at all. No, right now, all he wanted was some tea, some nice, calming, clearing, simple, any-month-of-the-year-but-that tea ...

Thackery paused and blinked at the teacups stacked in the cupboard. He couldn’t put his finger on what about the cups was suddenly tickling something in his mind, something known and familiar and normal to him. So he stood there, hands resting on the cupboard door handles, head tilting softly to and fro as he studied the dishes.

A stagehand walked through the room and told him goodnight. He almost didn’t hear them and turned sharply to respond before they completely vanished out the other door. As he shifted to once more observe the cups, his eyes widened. The cups.

“They’re crooked! They’re stacked slightly crooked! Nobody but us could do it like that! I wonder...”

The Hare gently took one of the top-most cups off the artful arrangement. He suspected their resident Mad Hatter but it didn’t really matter. The small visual reminder of their far-away home had done what had been intended. His hovering malaise was fully evaporated as he set about making tea, enough for the group he knew would be returning soon.

True to form, the rest of the Mad T Party Band burst through the lounge doors helmed by a giddy Mally and Alice. The group spread out, claiming seats and waiting for the unspoken order of who made tea when. The March Hare’s eyes had simmered completely back to their normal hues and he watched his friends contentedly.

It was only when Tarrant discovered the teacups and excitedly asked who had done it that Thackery realized he might have been wrong. The man’s glee was genuine, the Hatter never put on airs like that. As everyone crowded around to see, a shadow at the back door caught Thack’s attention and he could swear he had seen a purple hood and red eyes peering through the porthole for just a second. He looked carefully between the door and the band, and a new thought bloomed. 

When Tarrant turned to him, the Hare told them of finding the wonderful surprise earlier and that he’d suspected Tarrant, but apparently not. The group debated as they made their individual cups but soon the conversation floated to other topics. Thackery remained quiet, using his known fatigue as a cover as he considered words that started with J and F and .... he glanced at the 12-month whiteboard calendar on the far wall. Unconsciously his eyes drifted to the third section on the top line.

With another, more grumbling sigh, Absolem gathered up a small satchel he kept with him and moved to exit the room. His foot knocked something set beside the door jamb, making the Caterpillar pinwheel his arms to maintain balance. The man glared down at the plain, offending box before quickly snatching it up. It weighed next to nothing but he could feel something inside rustling. With an impatient yank the lid hissed off.

Absolem shook the container and tilted it towards the light to get a better view. His yellow eyes softened as his gaze trailed over the array of fine mesh baggies tied with satin ribbon, the leaves and particles collected in each one a welcome sight. Even under the hallway’s harsh fluorescent lights, he easily picked out muted, dried colours he knew so very well. A small flower bulb nestled in the center of the box and a teasing aroma was beginning to waft from the box.

A flash of tan in his other hand stubbornly drew his attention. A stained label was pasted to the underside of the box lid.

“You are certainly full of surprises, that one.” The Caterpillar resealed the box and reentered his dressing room to secret it away. This time, when he left the room, a knowing smile crept along his mouth, vanishing just as quickly. A quick stop by the greenroom lounge to let the others know he was headed to their shared penthouse and he vanished into the neon night.

The Cheshire Cat would be the first to admit lurking around the Mad T Party area wasn’t the most exciting thing to do while the world slept. The group’s shared penthouse even less so, but the comfort could not be beat. one by one, each Mad Partier had succumbed to their need for sleep and bid the Cat goodnight, leaving him to create what madness with their living quarters as he saw fit until he too would retire.

The urge to completely rearrange all the furniture was just beginning to creep upon the Cat’s mind when movement from one of the a-joining halls drew his eye. He froze where he was lounging on the ceiling and watched as a small, inky figure detached from the deeper shadows and stealthed across the massive living room in the direction of the kitchen. As it vanished through the door, Chessur coloured himself interested and floated along to follow.

The light spilling out of the open fridge door would have barely illuminated the female figure’s face for human eyes, but even in this form, Chessur has excellent sight. It didn’t matter though, he didn’t actually need it to know who was up and about at that hour. Incorporeally he leaned against the door frame and watched the girl stare into the machine before reaching and digging around. When she withdrew, she held two plastic-wrapped sandwiches. A satisfied smile lit up her face for a second as she closed the door and headed back for the living room. Chessur skirted our of her path and fell into step behind her.

He hovered behind her head as she navigated the beshambled room and folded herself into a corner of one of the couches next to Tarrant’s chair-and-a-half. Barely glancing at it, she reached over to pull one of the throw blankets off the chair’s arm and nest it around her legs. The Cat raised a brow - he knew something about familiar motions and he knew them when he saw them. He floated in a bit closer, crossing his arms to rest his chin on while he watched over her shoulder at the phone she pulled out.

The girl casually scrolled through apps and sites while she made easy work of the two sandwiches. Everything about her screamed comfort and rest and home. Chessur discovered he was starting to purr softly by the time the girl closed the phone and stood up. His eyes snapped open to saucers at the movement. He watched her take a few steps and look around the room. A new sound surprised him, a female voice speaking softly into the dark.

“Not as bad as that one time. Could be worse. At least the Cat hadn’t started on his usual antics yet, thank the Mirror for that. A bit odd, though. Hope he’s feeling alright. Ah well, c’est la vie.”

With that, she set about putting the room to rights and suddenly Chessur remembered all the times he had caused chaos in the penthouse at night only to find it all fine before the band woke up. He had assumed it was Absolem, or maybe Thackery finding out about his habit and making sure it didn’t put out their friends.

No, instead it was this little sprite undoing all my hard work, and all on her own. A lot of work for no praise indeed. But why worry for me if I only make more work?

She worked diligently and thoroughly, and Chessur could see her energy wane as the minutes ticked by. By the time she put the last throw pillow back, her steps were dragging and her head lolled slightly. A great yawn froze her for a moment but she shook it off and headed back to the kitchen.

Chessur watched the girl empty the dishwasher and bag up the trash for pickup, all in as quiet a manner as possible. He tilted his head when she went to the tea cupboard and stared at the insides for a moment.

“He’s fine, all fine, tea is fine for now.”

Hm, but you’re not, little one. Have you been doing this since you arrived with us?

The girl blinked and shook her head as she closed the cabinet. Glancing around the room, she nodded sleepily to herself and withdrew. The Cat followed.

She trudged back to the hallway she had emerged from earlier and vanished into the shadows. Chessur followed, an eerie curved mouth floating in the darkness behind the girl as she passed by two rooms and arrived at the last door of the hall. She slipped inside and gently shut it behind her, and the Cat could hear no more noise. He waited a moment, eyeing the name sign on the door, before he fully dematerialized and stalked to his own room. No shenanigans for the Cheshire Cat tonight. He didn’t have the heart to mess up all her hard work.