Lyssa had given strict orders to James and Annabel to be nice, and respectful, and most important to call her sister Madam. Why she had chosen that specific title for the tea party was beyond her. Maybe it sounded good. Or maybe she just liked seeing her toys squirm uncomfortably. She knew the moment they laid eyes on her beloved sister they would wonder of she were right in the head. And if they ever asked Lyssa, she would punish them. Mania’s mind was beautiful and perfect and therefore not to be questioned.
Anyone who tried to hurt her mother or sister were immediately put on her black list, and this included hurt feelings… or just anyone who felt the need to insult either. As for everyone else, there was a very short list of gods and goddess whom she respected if only because they terrified her and were more powerful. But she would get them… someday. Oh yes, she would get them. For things she’d been made to do.
But for now, she must focus on this splendid tea party! Yes, oh yes, oh yes! She had found a French maid outfit for Annabel to wear and a butler outfit for James. “My sister is coming for a tea party. My blood sister. If you so much as look at her the wrong way you will regret it,” she had forcefully threatened the pair of them.
Even Lyssa was just as capable of even the kindest acts (HA!) and caring for others (HA HA!) as those silly, impertinent mortals. Oh she loved her sister and her mother. She loved her father for his blood. Yes, she was capable of that sort of love, but who really knew if she could be in love? Such a pointless, no-good thing, love. Yes, that was saved for those who had the same blood running through their veins. And a very small select few who intoxicated her with their mere presence.
But enough of that (her mind does wander so).
Lyssa had made sure her toys were dressed and ready, making them set up the dinning room table for their tea party. Oh yes, they would be joining, but if either she of Mania needed anything at all they were told to do whatever it was. They were not to question either of them, even if it sounded completely and utterly… mad. They were mortal, after all, and she expected some level of confusion and disgust from them. Especially James. He was terribly snoopy. Ha ha, Snoopy.
As for Lyssa’s outfit, she had chosen an old 50’s shirt and poodle shirt, with spotless white tennis shoes to match. James and Annabel had asked where she’d found such a spectacular representation, to which Lyssa had replied threateningly, “Don’t ask questions.”