Re: Log: Iris/Hatter
See, she understood. She understood from the first time they talked. About how cloudy the head was and how his scattered sentences added up to something clearer. Hatter hadn't met a human outside of Alice who could add things up the right way. If he was in the real world, if he was born a human, he'd probably have been shipped to a hospital a long time ago. They didn't understand mad people. Or they didn't want to understand them. He could tell that from the human mind he joined with, or from talking to her. It seemed unnecessarily cruel of them, to see it in such a limited way.
"Always feel shaky. Most of the time it's just me." Hatter was mismatched and off balance and it was his way. But sometimes ... he thought it over. This was why having clear thoughts could be both good and bad for him. "Sometimes want to be anchored, but isn't easy. Don't like worrying or questioning." That was more than he typically shared with anyone, since he didn't share with anyone other than his March. It'd been a long time since he saw his March. He knew that, outside of time and expectations, he knew that it'd been a long time.
Hatter tch'ed at her. "Wonderland Iris is Everywhere Iris is Pony Iris. Always Iris. Wonderland likes you, and you like it, makes a difference." When they stepped into the door he smiled and gestured around him. "It's dangerous here, if it doesn't, if you were different it might howl and rail. But it's welcoming. Look around." His home was beautiful and strange and it never made any sense. But it was a living, breathing thing, something no one fully understood out of the natives. So in his mind, it liked her. It didn't try to toss her out or scare her.
But then he was smiles again, a grin wide enough to split his face, and a spark of fun in his eyes. "Race you!" And by race he meant that he was going to keep a hold on her hand. He would tug and run only as fast as she was willing to go, since leaving her alone in there was guaranteed to get her lost. But the point was to move, to enjoy, to make it to his table flushed and full of life, the way it was meant to be.