Jude is as crazy as the Hatter (tipofthehat) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2014-03-08 00:18:00 |
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The clock wasn't ticking. Hatter was glad about that, terribly glad, because if it started ticking he would've been certain something was very very very wrong. He was mad, yes, most of the time, but he knew how Wonderland worked, he knew it like the back of his hand, which he didn't always know as well as he liked. Time hated him, and that was comforting. March and Dormouse weren't there, not good not good. He was at his table with the many chairs and cleaning the many tea cups and pots, because they were his only prized possessions. All shapes and sizes and patterns on them, and an entire cupboard filled with potions and his teas. He rarely took out the potions, the concoctions not for just anyone, but he needed at least one of them. In order to focus. He was slouched in his chair, dark hair sticking every which way underneath his trademark brimmed hat. He had more of them, somewhere, hundreds probably, some tall and some fit for children, but only one that was his. This Hatter was dressed a little more commonly, with a long jacket and a collared shirt, brightly red colored yes, but no bow tie. He didn't like those, too tight, too much like when the queen looked at him and he felt like swallowing down a bone. He sipped his tea-potion filled with Illumination, and for the time being, his dark shadowed eyes were clear, almost pensive. The clarity never lasted long, but for now, he was illuminated. The clock chimed instead of ticked, and Hatter knocked it on the side with his silver spoon until it stopped. "None of that, you show off, it's not a party. Party for one." He knew that Alice said she'd come, or the book said so, the book that wrote back at him, he liked that. But he also thought March might come, March always did eventually. How long was time not moving now? Hm hm hm. Alice did arrive, as she and the book said, though she didn’t look to be in the mood for a party. The wary scowl had taken over her face, pulled at her brow and the bow of her lips, making her sullen and sad and skittish. Such was her reaction to Wonderland as of late. Things changed, she knew, oh how she knew, but this was a change not of her making. It was a change she didn’t very much like. People going, people arriving, it made her agitated, and things tended to happen when she was agitated. She stayed outside, feet rooted to the ground, for some time, listening to the chimes until they were silenced with a loud knock. It was as good of a signal as any. “Hatter?” she called out, black boots stepping lightly as she made her way inside. Her hands brushed over her blue skirts, pausing and then ignoring the faint speckle of blood on the white - well, some things couldn’t be helped – and peeked her blonde head in to find the familiar face. Or hat. His hat was certainly more familiar. She called again. “Hatter? Is that you?” For a long time before Alice showed up, he wasn't sure how long ago that was because time didn't move, but he knew it was shorter than when he angered the queen, and longer than the Knave. But before then, there were only other people from Wonderland who came near his table. For deals, usually, for things they needed, items that crossed palms and got to new places, and who it was didn't normally matter all that much. She was different, he could tell that from the first moment she stepped up to the table, and Hatter liked different. He also hated it. Different made trouble. Different meant heads would be rolling. He liked his head. It was his third favorite head. "Alice!" He moved between emotions pretty quickly, and only some of them were real, some of them were fabricated, by the teas that passed in his cups. Hatter had a dimpled smile now, he lept to his feet and jumped across the chairs until he stumbled his way to her. He screeched to a halt a good ten feet or so, thumping his hat down on his head instead of taking it off, and gave her a good looksie. "Time's touched you. Little Alice no more." She was such a sweet little thing though, with the long hair and big eyes and gangly limbs. Hatter was full of energy though, renewed with it, and he clapped his hands. "Big Alice! Come to have a cup of tea?" She wasn’t sure about the name he gave her, Big Alice indeed, though there were far worse names to be called. Still she eyed him warily, critically, green gaze in narrowing slits. The girl had been spending much time with the Cat and in lieu of a tail, her skirts swished as she shifted her weight – left, right, left, right – hips swaying in a wash of cornflower blue. “You’re…” Hatter was so many things, so many words and expressions and cups tossed over and discarded for something better, something more fitting, that it took her a moment to find right word. “…different.” It would have to do. She wanted to rail, like she did with the first Hatter, or turn her nose up, as she did with the second. But this one was different, from the hat to the face to the dimples. And he was offering her tea. That hadn’t happened in… well, in many years. “What sort of tea?” Her words came guarded, but that they came and was a sign of things changed. It was a start. Hatter liked the way it swished, he almost swished along with the skirts, but his hips were no where near as graceful. His accent was not unlike that of a London guttersnipe, or at least that's how it seemed, he could change, he was remarkably changeable. But it was quick and warm and fell out of his mouth with ease. "Different, am I? We're both different. I like when things change, they're the same for ages you know, ages and ages." He really didn't know at this point how long it'd been. Long enough. "Well!" He clapped his hands and skipped on back to the table, waving his hand at her to persuade her to follow. "Your type of tea, my type of tea, illegal types of tea. Some I probably don't know about." Hatter went to the cupboard because an Alice visit was a special visit, especially with his March missing. Without company he was just a mad man with empty cups, which wasn't untrue, but rather displeasing. "Hm hm hm," he hummed to himself as he looked on the shelves. It was a rather strange cupboard with uneven shelves and little pockets of space he hid special ones. Some really were tea, the type she knew from home, and some were in small vials and looked faintly like they were glowing, or sometimes swirling different colors. "Earl Grey, yes, the earl of grey, that's from your world. I know people who know people who get things." He was very proud of himself for that. Alice supposed that he would like something different. Wonderland remained as it always was, very few of her imprints lingering. But she had known change, felt it in the heat of a fire, in the cold stone walls of an asylum. Things had changed for ages and ages; it was no better, and the flat stare she gave him said much the same. It lasted for a moment when his words caught her attention. “…Illegal… tea?” Now that was certainly interesting. Her recent discussions with and observations of the people of the desert city had given her a slight curiosity for that which was not entirely lawful. The idea that this Hatter had something so very unique made her wariness melt from her bones and the frown slip from her brow. “Hm, yes,” she murmured, giving him a faint smile for his effort for she did love a good Earl Grey. But now her eyes were focused over his shoulder to the small vials housed in the cupboard. Standing behind him she leaned over, her arm sliding over his shoulder. “But what is that,” she asked, pointing to a vial which glowed. “Does it do something? Change to him was always better than the same, because he'd been frozen too long. Then again, change often brought with it little girls who made trouble and reasons for the Queen to call him to court. He didn't like those changes, no no no, so it was smarter to be quiet. Hatter never considered himself very smart. If he was, he wouldn't have mocked the Queen, oh no. "Questions, you love questions. Do you still get irate when you don't get answers?" Hatter remembered her, a slip of a thing, and now she was tall enough to stand by his shoulder. She'd grown hard, he saw that, not the girl with wonder and whimsy. Such a shame, that. He'd give her something to wonder about. He smiled to her and pulled out one of the vials, handing it over. It sometimes looked pink, then purple, then red. "Illegal. Very dangerous." Which might make it seem like poison, but it wasn't. He couldn't see if there was a name on that one, if there was, it was faded away. He would have to re-label his cupboard and just try everything until he figured out the exact types. "They give you emotions. Pure, unfettered, intense. A drop or two of that and you'll feel something with unreal clarity. Love, passion, curiosity, hope. There's fear and anger and all that too, but makes people restless, I hide those away. Don't tell anyone, be a dear." He would probably forget he told her soon enough anyway. Hatter squinted at the bottle. "I just had some Illumination. Makes things clearer." Temporarily, before it got clouded again. Did she still get irate? The answer was a heated glower at the back of his head, and Alice wondered if he could feel it. She hoped he could. But soon he was turning to her, giving her things to look at and she rolled the vial between her fingers, marveling at the change of colors with a small gasp. Illegal. Dangerous. She couldn’t stop the grin, or her questions. “What is it? What does it do?” It mattered little then as he expanded upon them in the next few breaths. Something, and with unreal clarity. How curious. She rolled it between her fingers once more, watched the liquid slosh against glass as he spoke. How she wanted to see what it would do. How she had learned what it was to drink things in Wonderland. “What else?” Her energy and excitement made her bounce slightly on the balls of her feet, heels clicking as they settled back down. “This?” Manners were a thing best left at the door in Wonderland and she reached over his shoulder once more to pluck another vial from his cupboard. Hatter felt it and it was familiar, and it made him grin. Some things didn't change. Good to know, good to know. He liked her better fierce. Couldn't survive in Wonderland without being fierce and brilliant and mad and dangerous. He knew she wasn't aware of how dangerous she was the first time 'round, that's why it worked, but she knew now, oh yes she did. He would keep irritating her regardless. Especially. Her enthusiasm for the vials just fed his, eager as a puppy, pleased she found it interesting. "Only a few drops, and it's like nothing else. Better than real. Stronger than real." Hatter only vaguely remembered real though, so that wasn't saying much. He didn't have manners so he wouldn't know what to do with them. He squinted at the vial. "Vengeance. Mmm what's that one doing out here? Oh also here wait ...." Hatter didn't mind taking out more than a few of them, he'd be tossing it all soon enough and putting it back together. "This is real poison." It looked like any other simple liquid, that was the important part. He showed it to her and made a woooo noise, to put across it was dangerous. "Few drops, no taste, six feet under. Doesn't work on everyone." He picked up another and jingled it near his ear, as if it'd talk to him. "I've got one on here that'll keep the taste of peppermint in your mouth for days. Also a dozen other flavors. Also can take away sleepiness. Don't really need sleep." He couldn't remember ever sleeping, not really. “Stronger than real,” she muttered quietly, snatching up the vial though not to take. Alice, tactile by nature, always liked to touch things and though the asylum had curbed such desires, being in Wonderland always did bring out every side of her. She rolled it between her fingers, humming a thoughtful little song, before slipping it back in the cupboard. Now for something else interesting. Interesting came in the form of poison, not strange vials, toys masquerading as weapons. This was the genuine artefact, and though he clearly didn’t take it nearly as seriously as she did, all warbling words and shook containers, she took it seriously. And she took it, palming it with one quick and slipping it into her front apron pocket. One never knew when they would need poison, after all. She smiled up at him before he could protest, wide and bright, a gleam of white against pink lips. “Peppermint? Sleep?” Neither had much appeal to her and she took a step back from the cupboard, seemingly remembering the etiquette about personal space, before holding her hands at her back. “You mentioned some earl grey?” "Stronger than real," Hatter promised with a little nod of his head. He would know after all. Stronger didn't always mean better, but there was something pure about these teas. Joy without any build up to it or mental walls telling you to be cautious. Being swept away in a single emotion, it was so much better than dealing with all the ins and outs of feeling something. He didn't like thinking too much, he preferred just flittering from one to the next, so really this worked best for him. He watched her with bright, burning eyes, smiling at the song. Not so big after all. He didn't protest when she pocketed the poison, only quirked an eyebrow at her and laughed. "You tell me how that goes, Alice. Remember. All it takes is a few drops. Waste not, want not." An Alice who wanted poison, now that was an interesting trade. Not a bad thing at all, he liked it, she was all fire and spit now, a dragon maybe. Or at the very least a very fiesty snappy lizard. Hatter winked at her and bopped her on the nose lightly. Only then she seemed to remember personal space, and he didn't really care either way, already skittering around to get the real tea. No teabags, mind you, those were too watered down. Hatter had it all proper right. "Sit your merry self down, Miss Alice." He picked up a nice little box, different from the vials, and let her see the leaves. Just in case she worried he wasn't doing things proper like. Not for this Alice, with the sharp eyes and quick hands. She instinctively wrinkled her nose at the bopping, leaning back after and suppressing the angry impulses, quick and hot, for she was more surprised than furious. Her eyes blinked back at him, narrowing slightly in confusion, in curiousity. This Hatter was different and wasn’t nearly as infuriating as the others. She’d dwell more on that later. Sitting down took a moment, picking a chair, and then a few seconds later moving to the next one and finding it more satisfactory, she reclined in it deceptively lazy as she watched him prepare the tea. There were some things that were better when adhering to the rules. Tea happened to be one of them, even if she refused to acknowledge clinging to that vestige of her old life, and she lounged in her chair as she looked on. “What are you going to do now that you’re on your own?” She hadn’t heard from Hare in a while, nor Dormouse, and while she thought she could go on without anyone else in Wonderland, she had a hard time imagining Hatter like that. Hatter didn't think too much on there being other Hatters or other Alices or other others. He was in Wonderland, anything was possible. He'd probably be more surprised if there were dozens of them the exact strange, so if he was different, good, good. He liked being unique, even if by being unique he was basically normal for his home. He smiled at the nose wrinkle with a flash of dimples and started boiling the water. Hatter had an old fashioned small flame underneath the pot to warm it a particular way. He could probably will it to bubble and boil, his imagination keeping the flame alive, but he was going to do it this way instead. He set out four different tea cups, all different sizes and designs, and tapped his fingernail against it. "Pick a card, any card," he said with a gesture to the cups. The question caused him to tense and he squinted, his brain churning hard to catch up with itself. He hummed to himself and didn't answer her, because in truth he wasn't sure yet. "Not on my own. You're here." Not forever, no, but the thing about time was, he lived in the seconds, not the centuries. "Got someone here, up here, he's hateful." A tap against his temple. "Hateful about Hatters." She peered at the tea cups and suddenly she felt almost at a loss. It wasn’t often she had too many options, and her eyes darted from cup to cup as she tried to consider everything quickly. In the end she reached a cup and saucer, mint green with a chip, the pale white ceramic winking at her invitingly, sharp edges and all. It was rare that someone was actually thankful for her presence, especially there in Wonderland, and the pink bow of her lips lifted ever so slightly, too surprised to hide it, before he continued on. The smile faded as he spoke of his head person, her fingers tightening around the cup thoughtfully. “I’m lucky that mine is sweet. More sugar than spite.” Strange, certainly, and at times she felt the older woman was more naïve than a woman her age should be, but still she was sweet. Untouched and unbroken, and Alice made it a point not to let her privy to all her thoughts, bloody or otherwise. “Can you not turn him away? Steel yourself from him and shield your thoughts from his?” He smiled at her choice; little choices always meant things. He didn't know what. He didn't make lists and analyze them, whatever it meant, it meant it to that person and not to him. Hatter served her the tea, it was good and strong, he really did like her world's options sometimes. It caused him to be hyper but focused. Not as good as his brand at clearing up the cobwebs, but it was bitter, more bitter than the poisons. He had sugar somewhere, but the cream was most certainly curdled. "You were sweet, once. Wonderland seemed like the place for you, all full of questions. You know a lot of your kind go mad if they show up here, truly mad, madder than me." Wonderland was topsy turvy and if you didn't think a certain way, if you didn't feel a certain way, you'd get lost. There was no way back once a person got stuck, their minds closed, their stories abruptly cut off. Hatter scratched his head and thought about pouring more of Illumination, but it'd just make it worse afterward. He shared her brew instead. His cup was pure white, not a mark on it, so white in fact it was stark compared to the rest of him. "Hm, maybe, think he's madder than me too. It's always the craziest who are the sanest. Course that's just me. What do I know? I'm just a Hatter." |