Daughter

Chapter 1

The dining table was set with a feast for many outside in a dull green atmosphere. Spread across the rich, deep grey table was a fine white cloth with wonderful little designs knit along the edges. Loops of thread were pulled about the whole cloth and various chestnut colored stains lurked deep within certain spots. Even so, most the stains were covered with gorgeous, classic plates with tremendous amounts of food resting upon them. The food was comparable to the traditional setting though, as some of it looked questionable in staleness, yet even so, it could be covered up by the decorative colors and other distracting decor. With all the flamboyant colors and effort put into the setting, the food looked like a mere side piece. Around the table were gathered various chairs that mismatched in design and color. Most all of them looked around the same height, but the craftsmanship of each looked as if they were a one-of-a-kind handmade piece. Some had deep rich brown wood accompanied by purple and red velvet with sequins around the border, while others had white wood with chipping paint and patched, mismatching fabrics sewn slopping onto the base. All chairs were unique, especially the one at the very head of the table. The chair had an extremely tall back to it with a thin armrest following all the way to the top in a bright green, faded fabric that looked to once be soft. The chairs were neatly pulled under the table as if they were anxiously waiting for company.

Running from inside a nearby building to the table in repetitive loops was a man in colorful, odd attire. He wore a medium length brown coat with a flapping purple satin sewn to the inside, accompanied by black and white striped calf length pants, slightly flared at the end, with a strange leaf pattern embroidered up the right leg. He had mismatched socks, one orange the other purple and blue striped with hints of black, as both were tucked into simple brown shoes with red lace. Victorian lace sleeves poked out from his jacket around his wrists as various rings danced on his fingers. A neon pink fabric hung from his right jacket pocket, flapping in the wind behind him as he rushed from place to place. His wide, black patterned bow tie, larger than his head, clung to his neck. Stiffer than the rest of his clothes, it didn't move much. Even so, his clothes were not his oddest addition. His white face, decorated with color as well, was surely the most covered part of him in the sense of oddities. Under his right eye rested pink in his bags, his left a deep red. Above his left eye was a rich purple, and above his right an electric blue. His whole face was contoured in pink with bright lips that were a mix of pink and purple. His bright green eyes stood out from the individualistic shocking orange hair he hand, seeming to stick off the sides of his head as if he had just been electrocuted. Upon his piece of artwork body was a rather large top hat. The hat was nearly two heads tall, patterned in black and a faint gold, along with a pink ribbon wrapped around the base a few times with the excess hanging off the back. In the ribbon were various needles with designer handles and a damaged tag written with a cursive ten over six.

The man stopped in his tracks in thought as he glared off into nothingness. Just as quick as he stopped, he turned on his heel and peered into the forest entrance at the end of the other side of the table. A crunching could be heard as it seemed to get louder and louder, as so did the man's anxiety. He had nothing to fear with the purity of the white queen in reign, but rouge red queen soldiers would occasionally cause a ruckus. He watched the leaves intently as if they were whispering to him that someone interesting was coming.

Just as the figure could be seen, the man dropped all anxieties as a smile broke out onto his face exposing a glorious smile with a little tooth gap in the center. He approached the figure with open hands and a cocked head in pleasure. "Ah! My dear friend it's been so long!" He called out in a gentle but loud voice coated slightly in an English accent. As the figure approached, he finally made his way into the light exposing a rather different attire. He was wearing a long black buttoned trench coat with a large collar. Peeking under his collar shown a lovely white button down shirt and a satin red cravat. His eyes looked sunken in and red, his pupils dark and almost menacing. His black hair was short, and his bangs were defined, sweeping across his forehead in spikes. The man, although dark and mysterious appearing, smiled upon seeing the man in the top hat, exposing two sharp vampiric fangs. "Hatter my friend," he began in a deep soothing tone, thick with a traditional Victorian accent. "It's been so long." He outstretched a hand to shake the hatter by, of which the hatter ignored, pulling him in for a hug. "Only a fool greets an old comrade through the shake of a hand, you should know this Barnabas." The vampire let out a slight chuckle as he wrapped two arms around the hatter for a returned hug. "Indeed, I must have lost my manners." He added with a smile as he pulled back from the hatter. He took a second to admire the man's clothes as they were so odd and eccentric compared to his own. He then turned to the table as his eyes unveiled the amazing feast that laid before him. "This be your presented feast for the evening?" He asked turning back to Hatter with wide eyes and a raised brow. The hatter, distracted by the surrounding nature snapped his head to Barnabas before turning to the table. "Oh, the feast?" He eyed the table in thought before displaying a toothy grin. "The feast! Oh yes indeed, I've prepared much. I fear too much." He looked to the ground as his smile faded for a second, then glanced back to the table as the smile crept back across his lips as if nothing happened. "Ah, pish-posh, too much food!" He argued with himself before suavely tiptoeing to the table. "I've made biscuits, cookies, assorted breads, cupcakes, finger sandwiches, many cakes and well..." he glanced at some other small plates that weren't sweet. "I had the rabbit, Tweedledee and Tweedledum help with the healthy food." He cupped his hand as if to tell Barnabas a secret. "I'm not sure if their food will be any good." He gave a high pitched giggle that was hinted with concern as he turned on his heel to finish any preparation. "Come, come make yourself at home!" Hatter gestured to the chairs with an extended hand, the pinky raised slightly above the other fingers. Barnabas, watching Hatter with content, gave a respectful nod as he took his seat in one of the classic chairs.

The reasoning for such a large meal was for the annual meeting between friends of other worlds. Seven men, all varied in lifestyle, occupation, conceptualization, and dreams, gathered to share food amongst their only companions to tell tales of their lives. They all were all so divergent to the point where their opposites became similarities and their dislikes became interests. It was a logic that made no sense in average life, a logic that only pertained, and actually managed to function, between these seven men. This feast, being the bridge to communication between one another, would be handed off like a baton each year, bringing all the responsibilities with it. They would trade off holding this meeting to ensure variety to each gathering as some of them could bore easily. This year, the feast was being held by the short tempered, deranged, Hatter. His turn was held off for as long as this tradition was set in play, for the others feared Hatter's abilities to take on such responsibility. No one believed that he couldn't do it, it was more of a disbelief that a proper amount of time and effort would be put into his work. His tea parties he would host for his other friends were often chaotic and messy. The other men knew of these partied and often rejected his invites due to their concern of the lack of maturity he and his guests had, and fear of accidentally losing a limb.

Barnabas, being the first guest to arrive, was shocked by Hatter's presented feast. He expected food to be scattered across the table, chairs spread about the dirt and grass beneath him as if they had no correlation to the table, and the overall quality of everything to be quite poor. Now standing before Hatter's work, he wished he could indulge in it all. His curse to be a vampire didn't allow him this pleasure though, as he came prepared with a stashed blood bag beneath his coat. He couldn't spot a goblet set out on the table as he wondered where he could pour his drink. Just as he opened his mouth to question Hatter, the man rushed around the corner of the table balancing nearly twenty tea cups. Barnabas stares wide eyed at Hatter's skill as he outstretched his arms. "Need a hand?" He asked approaching the hatter. The stack was so tall, it outstretched the length of the hatter's top hat. Hatter gave a quick shake of his head no, as he somehow delicately removed cup by cup from his stack and placed them around the table. Each cup was beautiful and delicate looking with unique handles, shapes, and color to go along with their saucers. After placing each cup, Hatter stood back and admired his work, clapping his hands together with a crooked grin. "The table is set!" The only thing missing was the filled chairs around the long table, of which would only be check off through the arrival of each guest.