Rabid Martyr

[mcdigan]

INT. GUIDE

I already apologize for his behavior. He will be as nice as he’s capable, but he’s also reached the point of considering himself above just about everyone else. 

Oftentimes he’ll be found in the Casino (which does double as a hotel), he’s civil, and will pretty much do anything he needs to in order to ensure he gets what he wants.

He won’t do it in front of people, unless he’s on an assignment at least, but he can talk to shadows. If you want your shadows to be whispering things to him just like lmk so there’s no godmodding or anything eheheh

He’s more impressed by people who can hold a knife or gun properly than literally anything else

[mcdigan]

queenofwcnder​:

      “Something tells me she’d like me dead more than anyone else, my dear.” She hums, taking the other teacup from the set and placing it in front of the other chair. From there, Isadora takes the teapot and begins to pour. “Well, isn’t that a shame. Was it two sugars or just one? I don’t quite remember.”

“ Two. “ A pause, and he shakes his head, eyes narrowing towards the other as she places the tea in front of him. “ I’m pretty sure I said I didn’t want any tea. “ Not that it seemed the woman paid that any mind. 

[mcdigan]

madameleonora​:

She stiffened slightly at his response, quickly relaxing, and lips curling into a smile. He couldn’t see her past. Perhaps the shadows he communed with could but there were more pressing matters about her to attend to. She was greatly intrigued by the land he’d once called home and the life he once lived. Whimsical, it seemed at first look but Leonora could tell it was streaked with madness underneath it all. Madness and blood all running together, she shook the sight away. “Tracking you or the whereabouts of old friends? Or perhaps, which life you’re on?”

     “ Either or. Hard to keep track of either these days. “ Wouldn’t even try if he could avoid it-- better that way, he believed. The Queen wouldn’t grow angry and risk the removal of his head once again. Best to keep as far off from that life as possible, else he might not have much else to see ever again. Until he was needed for his skills, that is. “ Don’t consider old friends to really be friends anymore. “ 

[mcdigan]

queenofwcnder​:

Isadora holds back a laugh at that, instead turning around to face him. “We were close, once upon a time. But now I’m simply someone your boss certainly wants dead, my dear.” She gestures towards a chair. “Come, sit down. You never answered about the tea, so I’ll just pour you a cup.”

      “ Just about everyone from Wonderland, y’mean. “ A humph at that, his eyes looking over the tea as he continues keeping his distance. Part of him wants to sit, wants to take the tea and see what might come up of it, but he knew better-- what would happen to him if he went against orders. “ Doesn’t sound like a good plan. “ 

[mcdigan]

queenofwcnder​:

@mcdigan​

       “I thought you’d come sooner.” She doesn’t turn to look at him, merely continues to pour herself tea. None of this phases her in the slightest – Isadora has been getting hints about this for awhile now, and it was truly only a matter of time until he showed. “Would you like some? Back in the day, you used to love tea. I’m sure you’ll still like it now.”

The boss would never approve of him being near the enemy. If anything, she’d demand he took her head right there and then. Even though the thirst for blood breaks any other desire, the curiosity still sticks out like a sore thumb. “ Who are you? “ 

[mcdigan]

madlyhatly​:

Hatter tried not to show how happy he was that Maddox sat down and, instead, turned to set up the tea pot.

“I feel like I’m missing something,” he told the other man. “How long has it been since our last tea party?” He sets out containers of sugar and creamer.

“I mean, it’s probably been a while,” he continues. “Isn’t this fun, though? I missed tea time.”

Fun. March hardly recalled the meaning of the word. If anything, killing was meant to be fun. Told often enough it was his true calling. Perhaps not originally, but he’s certainly grown good at it over the years. Who better than the famed Mad March, all of Wonderland would fear him if they only knew his name. Kept hidden for however long he had, until they came here. 

“ I haven’t done tea parties. “ Least he can’t recall, yet the feeling of a teacup in his palm, something seems all too familiar to his core. Oh, the Queen would definitely not like such a thing. 

[mcdigan]

shadcwman​:

       Facilier looks over him, before waving his arm once again, this time causing the table to clear. “The truth?” He repeats, gesturing to the chair across from him. 

            “That will come with a heavy price tag–are you good for it, my friend?”

       Wasn’t as if the money was his, so he couldn’t really care less. Queen had given him an entire satchel of gold to offer up, among other things. Nothing would be too much in comparison to getting the intelligence they required. 

           “ She told me t'give anything asked. No price is too high in compared to what the target has. “ 

[mcdigan]

madlyhatly​:

“Well, now, isn’t that interesting,” Hatter replies, his voice dropping and his face appearing almost serious. “If you’re not careful, Mads, I may actually start worrying about ya.”

“Come on,” he tells his old friend with a tight smile. “It’s time for tea!”

Though not all too interested in tea time, some form of familiarity still tugs at his mind. Opting to take a seat, he doesn’t respond to the man saying he may start worrying about him. Can’t recall a time anyone was worried about him, save a mouse he just barely recalls. They’d gotten the same treatment at one point, that much he remembers, but afterwards he’d stopped seeing her around. Nor could he truly recall what’s happened since.

“ People don’t worry about me. S’not how things work.”

[mcdigan]

madlyhatly​:

Hatter pauses again, looking at March confused.

“Of course we’ve, Maddy,” he answers, throwing the cup in his hand over his shoulder. “You’ve been my best friend for, well, for as long as I can remember.”

He pauses a moment before adding, “Granted, that’s not very long, but still!”

Hatter turns around to grab a new cup and can’t help but wonder. March was never the one with memory issues before, that was always Hatter’s department. Unless-

His grin returns, “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you, Mads?”

All news to him. Faint recollections of a neverending party, tea filling the table with treats. Three people tossing food at one another and any other who comes along.

 Just as quickly as the thought occurs, pain breaks through his form. Like a shock that jolts him out of his thoughts. The Queen wouldn’t appreciate him thinking of a life he chose to leave. Did he ever have a choice? 

“ I’d have t’know what you’re talkin’ about t’be able t’fuck with ya. “ 

And it hurt less to deny it.

[mcdigan]

madlyhatly​:

Hatter looks up from the table he was feverishly setting with multiple tea sets and a grin spreads over his face.

“Maddox, that’s you, right?” he asks, eyes alight. “I almost miss the ears!”

He looks down at the saucer in his hand and then back to March, “Right, your right! Tea parties are meant to be shared. That’s why I’m throwing this one!”

Maddox. Now he hadn’t heard that in awhile. Humans, well, they rarely called him anything. Though, those in the casino would refer to him as Mad March, or merely March if they were brave enough. Dark eyes look over the man-- the familiarity is there, but he can’t really recall why. Just who he is-- why did he mention ears? 

“ How d'you know m'name? “ He really shouldn’t have even asked that, if anything, just poison the man and go if he didn’t want it to be messy. But, he couldn’t bring himself too, despite wanting to do as was requested-- he also didn’t want to harm him. Yet, he can’t understand the why of it. “ Have we met before? “ 

[mcdigan]

@madlyhatly​

The Queen needs you to take care of a potential threat. 

Mad March hardly was one not to take orders. Least, not anymore. When he was younger, orders would go right in one ear and out the other. Vague recollections of his father’s bitterness over the fact would threaten to seep in if the Hare weren’t careful. Hardly could even call himself a Hare any longer. Ties to his past often severed whether he acknowledges it or not. 

Nowadays, he’s been torn apart and pieced together again mentally one too many times. The sanity he might have held once depleting to something else entirely-- though, ask him, he’d state any mentions of sanity were nothing more than another attempt at insult. No one else’s business but who deals with the damage. His form of dealing leading to being locked away alone, or the Queen’s personal favourite aspect-- homicidal mania, enhanced tracking, 

He could be holding intel that could be used against her. 

Was he to ignore such a request? Even with the offer of assistants, fellow mafiosos that could come as aide, March prefers dealing with his targets on his own. Little did he think he’d recognise the target-- as much as he could, at least. 

He’ll seem bubbly, overly happy, but for all we know it’s a trick. Take care of him. 

All the more, Mad March begins to believe this is another test of loyalty. If he were to ignore it, they’d simply have to restart the process. If he succeeded, he’d be killing more of his own past. Fragments that he can’t quite wholly comprehend. The more he witnesses from the shadows that brought comfort before, the more he questions if he should follow through. What could this mad man do against the Queen? Palms stuffed into suit pockets, the turtleneck he wears a stark contrast to his father formal attire. The Mad man steps closer, opting to have a more direct approach this time-- maybe see just what could be lurking beneath the shadows. 

The shadows themselves claim him an innocent, but that’s not stopped March before. Something else seems to be keeping him from pulling the trigger, and he wants to figure out what. 

“ Tea Parties are meant t'be shared with others usually, ain’t they? “ 

[mcdigan]

madameleonora​:

Leonora was all too familiar with the things the shadows were probably whispering in his ears. Her own sight was constant, swirling around her in a way that she had once thought to be intrusive but would consider herself lost without. It was a great comfort, to know all and see all. Only once had someone gotten the better of her and her vision. Never again. “They whisper but they are rather loud. I have a remarkable head for… visualizing the disembodied.” A harmless reference to her past that elicited a tight smile.

    “ So I’ve heard. “ Though, little comprehension came from the meaning. Brief wipe down of the counter, he eyes a shadow moving throughout the bar fraction of the Casino. He hears every step, sometimes proving overwhelming to the senses. Sometimes, he forgets himself. Forgets the past lives he’s trenched through. How many, he’d wonder, have had the Queen of Hearts remove their head. Yet, still survived. Some were brought back, he included. More than once. Scar still shows through if one were to look beneath his turtleneck. “ Usually, they just aid in trackin’ where I come in. “ 

[mcdigan]

madameleonora​:

Placing her elbows onto the countertop and letting her chin fall into her hands, Leonora watched carefully as he crafted her drink. Though she was almost disappointed that he knew her order, she didn’t show it. He had an almost artful dance-like way of creating her drink, fingers deftly completing the job as if he’d done it a thousand times before, even protecting the counter with a napkin. “I’d have an inkling, sure.” Leonora took a cautious sip of the drink, humming in approval before letting loose one melodic laugh “You wouldn’t be the first to call me a witch and you certainly won’t be the last. But you tell me,” she paused, leaning forward and staring at him intently, “What say your friends?”

  In a way, he had. March once was the personal chef of the Queen, before his story rewrote-- a new life, new career. Now, most feared him when they came to learn his name. He’s learned not to let it bother him-- Mad March wasn’t even his real name. Though, his real name seems so vague to him now. Another memory lost to time, fleeting more day by day. Interest taken up when she mentions his ‘friends’. Most others didn’t know about how the shadows spoke, and if he mentioned it, they merely believed it to be a result of his isolation due to homicidal mania. Even those of a magical force hardly comprehended just what it entailed. “ That th' fact someone else can hear them's like a moth t' a flame. “ 

[mcdigan]

madameleonora​:

Nora watched with careful eyes as he slipped behind the counter, lips drawn into a smirk. She considered his question for a pause, debating ordering a red wine but ultimately deciding it would likely be disappointing compared to her, admittedly growing vague, memories of home. “Sazerac,” she answers finally, tilting her head as she continues to size him up, “Please.” That smirk grew into an almost predatory grin, eyes sparkling, “You say but would you advise such activity in your own establishment?”

          Notice taken of her grin, a grim reminder of a cat he could recall from back home. Opts to ignore it for now, though the shadows warn him against adding any magical substances to her drink. Instead, he makes it properly, prepping the absinthe-rinsed glass first and foremost. Crushed ice crinkles the further along he gets into the drink, until it’s discarded with the strainer, and the drink in full is placed in front of her, glass atop a napkin to protect the marble countertop. “ Not like it’s my money t’lose. ‘sides, you seem like a responsible broad. Sure y’know when it’d get t’be dangerous for ya. “ Decides to keep it at that, though something else plagues him, the whispers of her knowledge the shadows mention, and the skill she seems so confident with herself. “ Though, if you’re a witch or somethin’, I’m sure you could handle y’self even better than that. Couldn’t ya? “ 

[mcdigan]

aladysbattleplan​:

Now that the barrier was down, Romy had to admit feeling torn about where it was her attention should be focused on: finding her “beloved” royals, or her beloved Pocket. She supposed that her revenge would be sweeter if she had someone familiar to her by her side. She wondered where in this now wider town he could have ended up…if any of her posse had ended up behind the barrier–if in this land at all. Did any of them even make it off of that prison barge? “I wonder what the possibility is for happy reunions .” She mused aloud as she stared at the rippling water of the lake. 

    “ Depends on how badly ya desire it. “ Hair pressed behind the Hare’s ear, interrupting another’s thoughts as it were. No issues could he see in the act, far too mad to ever think so deeply into that. Though, hardly even could he state his thoughts were focused only ever on himself now. He’s got another he answers to, always has, even if the loyalties flipped since then. “ Or how much the others care. “ 

[mcdigan]

shadcwman​:

             “I’ve got anything your little heart desires,” He gestures to the empty table, sweeping his hand across it revealing a display of different charms and hexes.

                       “So, what is it that you’ve come here for today?”

      Dark hues scan over the various charms and hexes the second they appear before him, a brief tilt upwards of the corner of his lips, though it falls once more soon enough. Can’t let himself show too much, can he. 

         “ Somethin’ for forcin’ the truth outta someone. Particularly when th' classic techniques ain’t efficient enough. “ 

[mcdigan]

madameleonora​:

“A drink.” Leonora answered before she turned to see who was speaking to her. After so many years passed her by looking from inside her ball out, she valued her freedom and found herself wandering into places she hadn’t been before. She’d heard the rumors - of course - of the Mad March that roamed the casino. A shadowy man in more ways than one, Leonora’s eyes narrowed in recognition as they settled on him. “I’m not much of a gambler, if you can imagine. No sense in it if I’m never wrong.”

“The bar, then. Follow me. “ The Hare himself would be the one to slip behind the counter, lack of a main bartender aligned with the fall of certain graces. Ones Mad March had to take personally.  Nothing the girl says sparks much surprise to the Hare, shadows say more than people ever could. Eyes look up towards the woman, a faux-smile coming to his lips. “ What’d’ya like, then? Though, I will say, gamblin’ could be more fun when y’know what’s right. Quick way for riches, I’d say. “