Angie&#x27;s Actions

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ At first he opened his mouth to respond, but quickly his eyes, wide and sharp and peering through the hair that falls loose when his composure is long since lost, slowly turn to look at what is nearly a Cheshire Cat.

" Why... don't... you... know? " He hisses at their shape, something not unusual, even his own Cheshire Cat often melded with the world around him, but it was that-- that detail. Never did his Wonderland creatures mistake which Queen he was talking about, just an odd detail of his subconscious, of their conjoined existence in one man's narrative. That narrative was not here. And now he looked to all of them with a bitter paranoia. Wrong... Wonderland? This did not help his temper.

" Counterfeits! Mockeries! " Even knowing no man could permanently cut a cheshire cat, the knife is flipped expertly in his hand to best slash at the puppet feline, if only in the hopes he might see it knock out their marbles, turning on his heel to point this makeshift blade at the encroaching dolls before he grabs his head on one side. " What have you done to me? Do you think my mind is so easily twisted? MINE? " He was talking to her now. Wherever she was hiding. He tried to reclaim his mental processes, block out distraction from even the dolls.

Then he sees it. His focus reclaimed long enough to see something darting off in the corner of his eye. " My silly girl, is it pretend you want to play? Alright then, okay... " He paced quickly after, though he was slowed by the need to fight his own mind, voice at first shaking from his aggravation before he steadies it into a certain tone. When he spoke he was impossible to ignore, louder than any record player, than even the sound of their own feet hitting the floor. " All these signs pointing astray-- let my friends show the way... "

As he says this, what might have once been a hallway is vivid checkered floor beneath her feet, a tall sign post with a headache inducing number of signs pointing at pathways so nonsensical to the eye that one goes up into what shattered memory remains of the ceiling without effecting the ceiling's shape, and they very well might walk into the ceiling like a painting should they try it. And who to greet her as she approaches the intersection but his very own dearest Cheshire, a living illustration, quaint, nostalgic, eerily old fashion, its colors muted in watercolor, reclined above the signpost. He's quick to fully appear for them, grin first, the closer they approach before suddenly his head uncomfortably pulls lose and falls clean off its shoulders. Subliminal imagery, the Hatter's violent desire trying to claw its way into her mind, cause enough stress to make it give in. Still, his headless self was posing in that way a feline might, when about to pounce. Was that Tetch's voice? No, it was the cat's. " The path doesn't matter, really... if they're all dead ends... Be still, little mouse, it will only hurt for a moment... "

There's just an almost jovial 'oh my!' as Jervis lunges at the cat, body falling to the table in pieces as its strings are cut, head rattling as its marble eyes roll around but the wide grin remained suspended as ever, chuckling still.

"Maybe, maybe not! We are what you think us to be, you know." Another soft giggle as the white teeth begin to fade into the background, as unbothered as any other Cheshire. "My, but that does beg the question- how does one drive the Mad Hatter mad?" One last 'hoo hoo!' and the grin is gone, leaving him to the dull, darkened stares of the dolls around him. A couple of them twitch and shift, spidery legs extending from their backs to lift them up and skitter closer, though smartly avoiding any swipes of his knife as he lashes out.

Angie can hear his voice raise somewhere behind her... To the right? Her head is spinning as she tries to pinpoint it, trying to figure out where she was in relation since that's all she really has right now. It only gets worse when those checkered paths unfurl in front of her- a pattern that's dizzying enough without the rest of this madness... The poor doll has to stop for a moment to keep from toppling over, looking one way and then the other before realizing she's gotten lost. The realization of which only growing the slowly burning panic developing inside her.

"What do you even WANT?! What did I DO?!" She calls out hoarsely, high voice almost cracking. "I thought... you wanted to be my friend..." Her voice grows quieter then as she looks around anxiously, hands bundled in her skirt. She jolts at the cat's appearance then, stepping back a step or two before setting her little face and bringing her hands together. As easily as she had shrunken down, she'd bounce back up into her human form- bloodied but somehow in one piece.

"This is my house and I know where I need to go!" She hisses right back at the Cheshire, taking bigger steps back now. If his power is anything like theirs, it's not as though he can make the house around her completely disappear... Whenever she backs into a solid wall, she makes a wild grab at whatever's nearby and winds up throwing a vase of those powerful yellow flowers out at the cat's body, threatening a kick if its head decides to bounce any closer.

Then she bolts again. If that didn't distract it, it'll surely set the beast off and either way, she needs to go. She runs, one hand trailing along the wall in some hopes of guessing where she was, but her mind is folding. She knows where she needs to go... but she needs to know where she is now. She stumbles after a beat and she finds herself snatching something else off some invisible shelf- a doll.

"Please please please... You know what I need, please." She whispers as she grasps the doll desperately, tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she stares down at the porcelain girl. Her eyes flutter and shift before her little head turns to gaze pointedly in a direction. Angie gazes down what looked like one of a dozen similar paths before glancing back, seeing if anyone else was coming before she'd take off.

Behold, the delightful frog upon his throne. Chiron nodded politely to Angie, eager to meet her chickens cluckbeasts. Seeing beasts and fowl being raised by others always put a smile on his face. He followed behind her, careful not to disturb any of Angie’s or Donna’s things, and joined her outside.

Was the coop homemade? It was a bit crooked, yes, but it had charm and it seemed to do the job just fine! And look right there, it was the ladies themselves! He watched with a slowly growing smile as the chickens approached, and he crouched down a bit closer to the ground to look at them more closely.

“Orangejello… Henn and Teller… and Lemonjello… I am not certain I understand your naming choices, but I feel your choice of names has given them a lot of character.”

He wasn’t about to pet them or anything, but he was going to admire them as they drew near.

"Oh, I just thought silly names for silly birds~" Angie giggles, smiling brightly as she watches the two fluffier hens begin to slowly circle around Chiron, curious of the newcomer. One would give his sweater a little peck, which makes Angie wave her hand at her with a 'tsk!' sound.

"Rotten girls, they're probably waiting for some snacks..." She laughs softly before she perks some. "Oh! Wait just a second..." She says to Chiron with a pat to his shoulder before turning to dash back to the house. She returns not long later with a little bag- which gets all three of the chickens' attention.

"Speaking of snacks... Here!" She hands off the baggie, which seemed to be filled with various colors of chopped things. Probably veggies. The hand-off of the bag gets the chickens now to focus on him, clucking and cooing expectantly as they stare up at him with their beady eyes.

"What do you think? Are they much different from the creatures you guys have?"

"What do you think? Are they much different from the creatures you guys have?"

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ He felt her slipping through his grasp.

Immediately the knife is ripped back out of flesh and reared to strike again, never slowed by how the blood sprayed and stained him. Even as he hears their scream, this subconscious hatter feels only frustrated that this moment must last longer, putting his delusion at risk should she fail to die. But she slips away. His movement was rabid, in that vicious way a man did so get when in the middle of a murder attempt, it wasn't really strategy so much as pure aggression that drove his claws to try to grasp and grip any lace trimmed part of her they could find before they escaped him. Before they tried to abandon him, alone.

He tries to follow her under the table, following after in a crawling motion that nearly turns him upside down, no regard for graceful, human movement. However all he sees is... yellow. Its a sudden and unexpectant sensation, enough to make him flinch back upright and cough to remove the feeling of foreign plant matter in his face, though its followed by a growl. " You... awful, wretched girl! " He begins, making eye contact with those big, watery eyes. The tea had set in, he knew that much, its effects did work fast. There'd be no sign of it until that moment, when he held them in his stare, and spoke as though with a direct link to their subconscious, seizing the mind to abide every enunciated word. " Forget the path you think you know... my Wonderland will never let you go. "

Like a spell cast, he shows her what he sees. Once an indoor scene, now an overgrown, oversized garden of flowers and mushrooms. Disorientation was the goal, reflected in every facet of this distorted reality, headache inducing imagery. Hallways and doors leading to random directions, angles that don't make sense. Even if she was to run he assured to buy himself time. But-- that was all he managed before he was... distracted.

Distracted? No, that's impossible. Nothing breaks his focus, its not HIM, it's the dark-- this impossible darkness. Something must have turned off the lights-- And yet he hardly believed himself, even as he made excuses. He tries to come into the light, out from under, and sees... a world as distorted as he feels. He doesn't flinch at this strangeness, accepting it like second nature. He doesn't think to resist the way his focus is pulled to the new but familiar sights, brushing off the dolls as innocently as he would his own nagging flowers. But the smile... Is that Cheshire? What about this doesn't he understand?

" ... I'm looking for someone. " He hisses, bloodied knife held behind his back. " Someone that doesn't belong in Wonderland. " He forces his attention away from the smile, remembering he needs to act fast, and begins to rabidly mutter. " No time to talk, no time to wait, I'm late, I'm late-- Where is she!? " He looks to them all-- his supposed imaginary friends, expectantly. " Quickly! She's wanted by the Queen! "

"And which Queen do you speak of?" Chunks of wood roll across the table to float in the air behind that crescent smile as a head slowly comes into focus. It tilts back and forth, the sound of marbles rolling in its skull simulating a purr. "I'm afraid I haven't a clue, either way! We've reached a liminality, which side did you come from?" The marbles finally roll to the front to occupy the cat's empty sockets, finishing the image of the segmented puppet.

All the while, the dolls all retain their unimpressed expressions, some even looking even more sour than before as Jervis makes his appeal to them. They only seem to move when he isn't looking at them- some leaning forward with his next glance over, some holding their little hands up with thumbs pointed down. This wasn't going well- something within him tells him they aren't his friends after all.

"I'm afraid you're all upside-down! You have no time to be running around... You're in the wrong Wonderland, I fear. And you definitely want to be out of here."

All the while, Angie is quietly pulling back into... flowers? Bushes? Whatever it is that surrounds her now, she prays will keep her hidden. What is happening? Did her flowers turn against her now? How is this even working in her doll form?? She brings a hand up to the side of her head- ohh, it feels like her very cadou is squirming inside of her... Nothing about this is right...

She knows this all must be as much of a hallucination as Jervis is experiencing now- she can hear him yelling above the table now. Yes, the table... This isn't a garden, this is her den... And these aren't flowers, they're- she's pushed through what in reality was the little fabric trailing on her table and flopped back towards the corner of the room. Her back knocks against her record player and there's a whirr and click before both Wonderlands are filled with the sound of music. Angie freezes at the sound, eyes wide as she waits for any sign of her pursuer.

"Hee hee... Go ask Alice, I think she'll know..." The cheshire's tail flicks as its glassy eyes turn towards the sound, smile seeming to grow wider. "How far down the rabbit hole you must go."

With the sound of the record being the only thing she could hear now, Angie decides to make her break for it. It's either that or wait for him to find her! The table is that direction, the record player is behind her... So she darts towards her left in a flurry of blue fabric, not exactly sure what she's going to run into next, but she's going to have to figure this out somehow.

senzafili:

Of course, Angie’s also very good at taking care of her cute little friends… This frog will certainly get his share of cuddling, but she knows how to keep such a thing from going completely flat too soon…

Angie’s simply beaming happily up at him once she’s released, arms now both wrapping around the gift to nuzzle in a bit against it. She nods a little as she listens to him before her smile softens a bit.

“Oh, you don’t have to apologize! Time gets the best of us all, you know… I’m just happy to see you again! You’re always welcome to say hello and maybe pop by sometime!” She reaches up to give him a warm pat on his arm before she gently gives his sleeve a little tug, bouncing on her toes.

“Ah! Did you still wanna see my chickens? They should be up pecking around outside right about now!”

With the frog properly delivered, Chiron could rest a bit easier now. It wasn’t like he thought he could bribe himself into a friendship or anything, he just… you know. Wanted to make up for the absence somehow.

“Well… in that case, thank you very much. I do need to try to make time better, I often feel like I have to be in two places at once, nowanights…” Her enthusiasm was contagious, though, and he was smiling with excitement.

“Why, yes, I would love to, Angie! Please, show me the way.

Angie could understand it well enough, so she didn't push further. Sometimes actions and things speak louder than words- or it's simply an easy way to start a conversation, even.

She gives that plush frog another big squeeze before carefully plopping it on the nearest surface, making sure it'll stay put before motioning for Chiron to follow her.

"C'mon! They've been so lovely... And we've got some extra eggs if you'd like a few!" She tuts as she leads him through the kitchen and out the back door. Not very far from there, Chiron would be able to spot the sort of crooked wooden coop perched in the middle of a clearing.

Angie clicks her tongue loudly and a couple of little feathered heads pop up from the tall grass- two fluffy hens waddle out towards them with one smaller hen trailing cautiously behind. Angie points at them as they approach.

"That one's Orangejello, that's Henn and Teller, and that one's Lemonjello! LJ isn't as cuddly but she'll hang out at least..."

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ Usually so thoughtful, usually so quick witted, three steps ahead. If he truly wanted her harmed he might have thought about the uncertainty of the unknown world he was in, about the alarm it might cause, about anything at all. Not now, not when he's like this-- he's not himself. In fact, there's nothing left of him anymore. Just a story determined to be retold again and again, desperate in some hope that this time it will make sense. This time the ending will change. This time the years of hatred, grief, and misery could finally pour out enough to run dry. Catharsis. It was his only thought, and in his tunnel vision he was blind to all else around him-- a fact that has narrowly saved the lucky few that have been rescued from whoever this is he becomes.

" Why won't you be her? " He rapidly continues. " Why won't you stay? Why-- why won't you come back to me? Why did you DO this-- just to mock her!? " His words didn't even feign making sense any more. He wanted her to say something-- anything to prove she was Alice, but he found her only still in his hands, only quiet, like someone caught in their act with nothing left to say. What little good nature sunk heavy in his chest then, dying with his hope, and his withering innocence was forced to admit defeat. Now all he saw was red.

" Hurt you...? " He goes quiet, his words almost a whisper as they shake with anger. There she goes, sounding like Ms. Pleasance again, the only Alice to know him so well to say that, as if hoping to reach the sweet man they first met. He moves the hand still gripping her, letting his touch be more soft as it finds her shoulder. And for a moment that free hand raises to almost lovingly caress her cheek. " I'm not going to hurt you... my sweet... precious... Alice. " Yet that hand still flicks a knife out from his sleeve. A long, thin, and special knife. Abruptly, she's held harshly again, this time putting the strength of his whole body to hold her back against the chair, trying to force her steady for incision. His aching monotone becomes a growl. " I'm just! Cutting! The cake! " The knife rears back, with it winds his whole shoulder, throwing his entire upper body into the downward stab he aimed right for her throat.

As desperately as Angie wanted to feel comfort in that touch, that somehow it would all be alright, she knew in the pit of her stomach that it wasn't. It didn't really take any time to prove it either. Time seemed to slow down as she watches the knife gleam in the light as it's raised high and she feels a burn in her chest as her heart skips a beat. She didn't know what to do when she stared down the end of that rifle, she didn't know what to do as the knife starts downward.

She's not going to die again! Her body almost moved on its own- she can't shake free of that strong hold, but she can move with the pressure he exerted. She slides downward in her seat, half pushed down by his attempt to pin her, and made a valiant effort to squirm away... But it only helped so much. At least he doesn't hit his target. She doesn't even scream when she feels the metal pierce through her shoulder, any pain there overridden by images of smashing glass flashing through her mind as she almost felt the sound of metal gritting bone.

Broken! Shattered! Finally the noise that escapes her is somewhere between a sob and a wail, body trembling violently as her arm curls weakly in against her side. Oh, there it was. The pain... The ache... But she can't stop now. She lets herself slide even further down until she's a bundle of frills plopped onto the floor, slipping away the best she can to creep under the table.

"...Why? Why why why?" Jervis could hear her sob as she tries to hide away, to get some sort of relief for even a moment. Any peek under, however, would reward him with a handful of yellow flowers shoved right into his face, almost as if she were trying to plant them directly up his nose, before she would scuttle away just a little bit further, hands coming together in front of herself as she stares at him with watery eyes.

Donna was the one that controlled the flowers... She would've surely been capable of getting him out of the house and back home without a problem. Angie wasn't quite as capable... But she can do one thing. She can flip the switch.

As if she really were Alice in Wonderland, a twist of a ring leaves Angie shrinking down smaller and smaller until she's her little doll form again, wild eyes glaring into Jervis'- then the lights all snap off and leave him in blackness.

When his eyes would get accustomed to the darkness, he'd find Angie had disappeared, a smear of red in her place. Coming back up from under the table now revealed it had grown longer- the end further off to the side disappearing into a bush of dripping red roses. The dolls around the room were now all adorned in little card suit outfits, all staring down at him with disapproving expressions.

"Oh ho ho! My my my, look who's the one causing the madness this time!" A voice somehow familiar, somehow not, seemed to be drifting from the air around him and from within his mind all at the same time. He'd find himself drawn to watching what looked like a paper cutout of a crescent moon shape fluttered down towards the table before floating there, curved upward. "You're a far way from home, my friend."

senzafili:

There’s no such thing as too plump… Angie’s about hugged the thing into a figure-8 sort of shape before finally letting it fill itself back out.

“You did really well! Gosh I’ve not crocheted in some time, this makes me wanna get back into it!” Angie laughs lightly before giving a squeak. Big hug! She’s more than happy to return it the best she can, almost quivering in his grasp as she lets out a contented little hum before they finally part.

“It’s super cute! I love it! Thank you, Chiron…” She smiles warmly, now back to touching over the little details now, wiggling a little knitted arm. “Oh, you could’ve given me anything and I’d love it you know! But I do have a soft spot for froggies… What made you think to make something for lil ol me, huh?”

Ah, delightful. That was the sign of a well loved plushie, you know? Getting hugged and squeezed until they’re a bit deformed or worn out. Of course, Chiron had tried to make this one so it could survive for a Long While - after all, hadn’t Angie said she was about a century old? This thing would have to be Durable.

“Hehe. Well, I would love to see any of your crochet work, Angie. I am certain it is lovely.” He made sure to let her go once she hummed in contentment, deciding to take it as a very very subtle signal she was done with the hug now. He wouldn’t want to make it weird.

“Even so, it is always best to customize gifts to their receivers. I do not think a plush hoofbeast would have the same effect, now would it?” He didn’t know entirely how to answer that question though. “Well… I’ve been doing some work on my knitting and crochet during my downtime, and not too many of my other associates or friends would have much to do with a plush toy… and I had realized I had not visited you in quite some time, so I thought to perhaps give you an apology gift. I hope that does not provide any offense?”

Of course, Angie's also very good at taking care of her cute little friends... This frog will certainly get his share of cuddling, but she knows how to keep such a thing from going completely flat too soon...

Angie's simply beaming happily up at him once she's released, arms now both wrapping around the gift to nuzzle in a bit against it. She nods a little as she listens to him before her smile softens a bit.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! Time gets the best of us all, you know... I'm just happy to see you again! You're always welcome to say hello and maybe pop by sometime!" She reaches up to give him a warm pat on his arm before she gently gives his sleeve a little tug, bouncing on her toes.

"Ah! Did you still wanna see my chickens? They should be up pecking around outside right about now!"

senzafili:

“Oh, you made it?” Angie’s gentle teasing then shifts to a purely happy beam, dark eyes crinkling up with her smile. “Aw… you didn’t have to, that’s so sweet of you…”

She blinks when she’s offered a soft knit… orb? It takes a beat before she notices the details and her politely confused expression then immediately lights up, eyes practically sparkling as she lets out a squeal and hugs the plush tight!

“Oohh! Oohh my gosh it’s so cute! You MADE this??” After hugging it near enough to fold it in half, she gives the plush frog a break to hold it out once again to look over it, fingers gently trailing over a line of stitches. “It’s so well made… Thank you, really! I’m… thanks!”

Angie looks up to him again, smiling before she frees an arm to hop on her toes, getting just high enough to sort of hug that arm around his shoulder.

“Yes! I have been getting quite a bit of practice with knitting and crocheting beast shapes.” He answered, once she realized what he had given her. Chiron’s pusher had fallen a little having seen her look so puzzled - he always thought she liked those incredibly plump amphibians. Thankfully, her change in demeanor told him she just hadn’t recognized it at first. Perhaps it was a bit TOO plump.

The plush was fairly weighty, and it sort of sprung back a little when hugged, so it held its shape, mostly. It’d end up getting a little lumpy with repeated hugs, but one could always shake or jostle it back into a better state whenever one liked.

“I am so very pleased you like it! Perhaps I made the amphibian features a bit too difficult to see… I thought a nice big one would be nice.”

He crouched down (or even knelt, if necessary) to give her a nice big hug.

“I also jumped to the conclusion you would prefer an amphibian over anything else… I hope I was correct?”

There's no such thing as too plump... Angie's about hugged the thing into a figure-8 sort of shape before finally letting it fill itself back out.

"You did really well! Gosh I've not crocheted in some time, this makes me wanna get back into it!" Angie laughs lightly before giving a squeak. Big hug! She's more than happy to return it the best she can, almost quivering in his grasp as she lets out a contented little hum before they finally part.

"It's super cute! I love it! Thank you, Chiron..." She smiles warmly, now back to touching over the little details now, wiggling a little knitted arm. "Oh, you could've given me anything and I'd love it you know! But I do have a soft spot for froggies... What made you think to make something for lil ol me, huh?"

senzafili:

Angie had been piddling about in the kitchen for the moment, getting a bit of tea going before she heard her guest arrive. She bounds out into the foyer with a bright smile.

“Chiron! Hello! Gosh, it’s been forever!” At least since she had been turned into a troll herself… Right now she was in her usual human form, though her usually flamboyant dress was replaced with a homier style, with a little apron fastened around her middle. No use letting the chickens get things dirty, after all.

“What had you thinking of me enough to get me a little something, hm?” She teases just a little as she grins up to him.

Ah, there she was! And she looked adorable, as per usual. He smiled down at her, and he shook his head. “Nothing in particular, Angie. I simply had some free time, and I wanted to make something for you, that is all.”

He revealed what he was hiding behind his back, a lovely green… knit… sphere. Of some description. It was rather large, and it was simply full of stuffing. After a bit of examination, however… she would find lovely stylized eyes and legs - a big ol’ round frog!

“I do hope you like it.”

"Oh, you made it?" Angie's gentle teasing then shifts to a purely happy beam, dark eyes crinkling up with her smile. "Aw... you didn't have to, that's so sweet of you..."

She blinks when she's offered a soft knit... orb? It takes a beat before she notices the details and her politely confused expression then immediately lights up, eyes practically sparkling as she lets out a squeal and hugs the plush tight!

"Oohh! Oohh my gosh it's so cute! You MADE this??" After hugging it near enough to fold it in half, she gives the plush frog a break to hold it out once again to look over it, fingers gently trailing over a line of stitches. "It's so well made... Thank you, really! I'm... thanks!"

Angie looks up to him again, smiling before she frees an arm to hop on her toes, getting just high enough to sort of hug that arm around his shoulder.

@senzafili ))

Chiron made his way right to Angie’s place, eager to give her his surprise. He had dressed himself as casually as he could manage given his wardrobe, a button down shirt and some nice pants. He had his hands behind his back as he stepped out from the transportalizer pad, careful to duck his head to avoid sticking his horns into anything.

“Angie? I hope I am not too early.”

Angie had been piddling about in the kitchen for the moment, getting a bit of tea going before she heard her guest arrive. She bounds out into the foyer with a bright smile.

"Chiron! Hello! Gosh, it's been forever!" At least since she had been turned into a troll herself... Right now she was in her usual human form, though her usually flamboyant dress was replaced with a homier style, with a little apron fastened around her middle. No use letting the chickens get things dirty, after all.

"What had you thinking of me enough to get me a little something, hm?" She teases just a little as she grins up to him.

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ He pierces her with his unbending stare, expectant, eager, watching every muscle and every twitch in her features. He was looking for a lie. Her calm, her steadiness, the slowness of which she speaks, it did nothing but strain his racing heart in the anticipation.

And that was not the answer he wanted.

" NO-- no, no, no... I cannot tell you the answer, my silly girl, or you will lie like you did last time." His voice, trying its darndest to sound kind, was shaking, but between how he gripped the table or took a moment to look away from them as he said that, who could say if it was anger or tears. His Alice has tried to play along before, but he catches them in the act, he catches them every time and then... he doesn't remember.

" You remember-- I know she does, I know she does... " He whispers, not to her, to something else, hands releasing the table side just to claw his own face. And then-- he erupts from his side of the table, stomping around the edge until he's to her side. " THIS! You! Look at you! " And with one hand he lifts a loose wave of her dress, as if to display its color, and with the other yanks off the hat that hides her blonde hair, throwing it to the growing garden of hallucinations at his back. The only imperfection to her outfit-- loving a gesture as he felt it must have been, to choose a hat for the hatter. It was wrong.

" That's why you're dressed this way-- you knew I would remember the way you looked! The childhood we spent together! The first day you came to tea! Hare, Dormouse, all of us! You KNOW me! I have looked for you ever since, and I have loved you more with every passing moment, don't you understand!? " He didn't mean for it to hurt, oh he didn't mean to be doing any of this, the way he was now pinning her shoulders against the chair, trying to shake her to her senses.

Angie's rigidity and attempt to remain almost sterilizingly calm in the face of madness doesn't seem to be helping the matter... And even though she can tell it isn't, that is' probably making matters worse, she can't help but feel herself simply growing more still, eyes widening as she focuses on Jervis' movements. Even as other things seem to be creeping into her view now, she keeps her eyes on him as he makes his way closer.

Move, you stupid girl! This is how you died before! Angie's frozen in place despite how desperately she didn't want to be now. As though he were a snake waiting for any movement to strike out at. Yet her stillness only made his movements easier, only really able to tense up when he grabs up the fabric of her dress. Her fascinator is yanked away however and she gives a tiny yelp as a couple of strands of blonde hair are tugged from the rest.

"Oww-uh! Hey!" That was enough to rouse her from her rigor, giving an upset whine as her hand comes up to touch the spot that her hat had been fastened to. That was the least of her worries, she yelps again when he grabs her by her arms now and the small spark of agitation is gone in but a moment. Instead, she's staring up at him with wide, watery eyes- eyelashes almost fluttering as she rapidly blinks away their desire to overflow.

"Jervis... You're hurting me." It's just above a whisper. Angie tries to keep herself steady, but her voice wavers as she says it. It was a statement, not a request, but his response may determine what she may do next... Is he still rational enough that he'll pull back? Or does it even have to do with rationality at this point? Either way, her hands curl into loose fists, not entirely sure yet what to do if he doesn't...

i’d like to forget what you did. i’ve tried, but i can’t.

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ But couldn't you, oh couldn't you?

It was so easy for him. It seemed to slide out of his mind like water, and it was about as difficult for him to grasp and hold onto, too. But there were other things, in the peripheral, lingering things, parts of him he hated to now admit.

And it wasn't fair to make him admit them-- they weren't him! Just thoughts that made themselves, all on their own. Or maybe it wasn't from thin air. Perhaps it was the flowers again. Or Humpty Dumpty! Saying how one couldn't forget, but two, two could forget much easier, with the right watch.

He staggers back... and he pulls the hat to hide his eyes as he turns away. " Coming here was a mistake, a terrible mistake-- I give the greatest apology one can make-- but the rot of this memory between us-- it's all I can take. I keep thinking about it. And not thinking about it! And thinking about how I'm not thinking about it! Like an itch! I just want... to amputate it! Lest it festers! Ohh-- " He grips his hair, but sighs harshly as he seems to relent. " But... But that would mean severing the part in you, as well... Or it will never clean out. -- B-but I can't, I shouldn't... Angie, my dear, I do so wish to be friends... " He began, stepping backwards and away but remembing to face and speak to them directly instead of his own thoughts. Though he kept his face hidden beneath his hat. " But I fear some part of me still begins to crack when I look at you just right... "

#Forget Me Not #that'll be this one's tag~

Angie can only watch over him with sad eyes, lips pressed together tightly as though it could undo what she had just said. But... It had to be said, somehow... It would've slipped out on its own during a worse time if she didn't say it now.

"We can still be friends, Jervis." She retorts quickly as he steps away, foot shifting forward just so very slightly before she decides against it, instead wringing her hands in front of herself. Her head tilts at his words, frowning softly before her eyes drift down to the floor between them.

"I don't intend this to be... a scab to keep picking at until it scars over. I don't mean this to be something to throw into your face." She begins slowly, trying to choose her words even as she says them. A pause before she looks back up, trying to look resolved. "It's just... It is what it is. I can't forget it... But I can accept it."

Perhaps if she can't find the will to step forward, she can coax him towards her. Her hands release one another and she holds them out towards him with a quietly pleading sort of expression. Take one, take both, just come a little closer even. Please...

"Perhaps... If you can accept it somehow too, it'll ease your mind as well." She suggests lightly, trying to meet his gaze whenever he may look back up to her, if he does so. "If anything, just... Perhaps just a little talk about it all may help?"

moved ! ( because legacy post! ) || @senzafili

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ His strange eyes jitter back and forth, back and forth, vibrate in place as they try to force still, glance at the rose, down at his tea, up at her tea, away from her eyes. But that's fine, that's fine, the Hatter often avoided eye contact. For multiple reasons.

He nods at their words, mouth gaping just slightly as though on the verge of needing to speak but never quite does, clearly very animated by their every word with how he frowned at the sad words and smiled at the words he liked to hear. The mere mention of not having any dreams they'd like to remember strikes like a dagger through his chest at first. All of his better judgement was unravelling, every waking thought of conspiracy, paranoid delusion seeping in. Every thing said, everything done, done in deliberate intent to harm. He was hurt-- SO hurt they chose to forget him. Then a pouting, pitying forgiveness granting sympathy at their mention of a hard world. They were perfect, they were helpless, something beautiful this world wanted to destroy-- just like all beautiful things! Up and down, up and down! Do they know they're pulling him asunder with every sentence? They must know, he decided, they must realize what they're doing to his heart, playing this endless game!

" But that isn't TRUE! " Abruptly the words tear from his mouth, the scrape of his chair against the ground as he stands, though he half laughs the words in just the way one does when they realize they sound mad. A hand goes to his head, impatiently flicking away the loose dark bangs that fell over his eye. " Y-you've had dreams ever since you were a little girl-- of course you have! Haven't you? E-even if you can't remember them, you must have, surely! " He's forgetting. Forgetting who she is-- what she even is for that matter-- the only answer he can stand to hear is who she is supposed to be. A human girl that once dreamed him up. Every slight deviation from that story in his mind caused painful aches, torture to his nerves. And the flowers, the flowers were beginning to make accusations he was desperate to prove wrong.

" Please... my silly girl, I beg you... haven't you any idea how long we have been playing this game? " It was obvious now that Tetch was unwell even despite his desperation to cling to some semblance of composure, appearing somewhere between frightened and furious with the other, never quite certain which to feel but feeling it all so intensely. " I've played pretend, acted like just a new friend, but now the fun and games MUST end! I know who you are...There must be some part of you that still remembers! "

She's either blissfully unaware of the energy taking over her guest's mind or else mistaking it for something else. He does seem rather jittery and jumpy- though he is the Mad Hatter, after all, and he does seem quite energetic from what she's seen of him so far. Perhaps sitting still for long without so much of an output wasn't a great idea... Perhaps trying to have a little meeting all on her own like this would prove similar to trying to handle a handful of firecrackers...

And like a firecracker, he snaps. Angie can't help the little jump she gives when Jervis is suddenly up from his seat, blinking wide-eyed at him for a beat before his words give her pause. Ever since you were a little girl... Some part of her wants to give him the benefit of a doubt- a girl that can turn into a doll, not a doll that only just recently been able to turn into a girl. It's a strange enough idea that she might've gotten away with fooling herself this way, but...

Something's wrong. She had always had a good gut feeling about things, even before she had the guts, and right now her sweet tea is going sour in the back of her throat. She carefully sets her cup back down on its saucer as Jervis continues on, what he was saying just seeming even more nonsensical than usual... Though the whimsy was gone. Now, it was just the madness.

"... Very well." The composure Jervis was losing, Angie wrapped tightly around herself now. She sits straight as she folds her hands neatly in her lap, head tilting just slightly as she gazes over him. Perhaps if she seemed calm enough on the outside, it may help him calm down some as well? Though it was difficult to dislodge the first word from her mouth when she speaks again. "Y-you seem to know what you want the answer to be. Perhaps... You can enlighten me? Who am I, then?"

#Angie in Wonderland

alicesought:

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ “ It tastes like… Spring… blooming in my heart, dear. ”

He pats his gloved hands to his chest, trying to match her warm smile through the madness tugging at his grin. His eye’s disorder hides the fact he just glanced back at their cup. It was light as the dust that floats in a window’s sunbeams… A specialty of his. His special tea. Dissolves near on impact, activates in water, but all it takes is a taste… and a hypnotist.

“ It was my pleasure… Illusionist? ” He chuckles, with something like bashfulness ( or was it guilt? ) as he brushes back the hair behind his out turned ears, sinking back into place as his damaged fingers dance along the table cloth. The way she looked to the rose could wrap his heart around her curious fingers like a string. Even if the flower was developing a face in his mind, and one he couldn’t look in the eyes.

“ Oh, certainly something like that, my darling! You could call it that… A-actually… I suppose… you’ve only known me as a hat maker, really... but there’s something else that I’m known to do… ” He trails off, beginning to ready his tea, as if to gently persuade her to remember to sugar hers and eventually take her sip. His nerves are evident in how he fidgets, but for a different reason, like he was preparing to confess something to her. It wasn’t a matter of if she could have deduced by now his criminal history, no, it wasn’t that. He had a story to tell her. A very, very special story. The one they were in now. And would this story– a story told so many times without ever quite reaching its end before it resets— ache like it did if it wasn’t like pulling off his skin for her, each and every time? Still, he sets the stage. A sip of tea. “ …I bring… dreams to life. ” He says in a hushed tone, a small giggle of excitement at his own words. “ And– And I knew… the moment I saw you that you must be… someone who has the most interesting of dreams! Even, even, even if you don’t quite perfectly remember them after you wake! Which is fine, it’s fine– dreams fade, it happens all the time… ” He adds, as if one would dissuading the thought he was offended by their forgetting. But he looks to them with a heaviness and moonstruck eyes. Expectantly. “ But dreams stay with you, you know, always! Dreams don’t go away, not really, like anything in the mind it only disperses… or– at very least you always have in you… the capacity to dream of them again. ”

Angie’s eyes slowly turn back down to the flower in her hands as she listens to Jervis speak, lips curled into a gentle smile as she gives that rose another little twirl between her fingertips before setting it ever so carefully on the tabletop as she remembered her tea. Right, tea! Can’t go letting it cool off, after all!

“Really now?” Her eyes turn back up to him then at his declaration, eyebrow cocking and one corner of her mouth pulling back into a smirk at the comment, though it would slowly fade back down as he presses further. “Ah, my dreams? I must admit, the few I do remember aren’t really any I’d look to dream again, I’m afraid...”

As she talks, she’d grab up a couple of sugar cubes- she did say she enjoyed her tea sweet after all! Her movements really must seem the slowest they’ve ever been for anyone watching with baited breath, but she seemed lost in the thought of her own dreams now as she stirs in those little bits of sugar. “This isn’t a place of happy dreams, you know... There’s only bright flowers and sweet treats because we work to make it so. It takes effort to soften what wishes to remain hard, you know?”

A little glance down to her tea cup. The shimmers gleam and flicker as the sugar disappears, like a cup of molten gold. There was always something nice about watching the swirls form shapes... “Though... Perhaps there are a few nice ones I may have simply forgot? Unless you happen to know how to make nicer dreams happen as well? I’m still getting used to the idea of dreams at all, you know...”

She smiles a bit hopefully to him with that, question punctuated then with a sip from her cup. Perhaps a longer sip than before- she does enjoy sweet tea after all.

#Angie in Wonderland

A video is posted. It’s been so long since the last one... Only this time the video starts with a view of the Beneviento den, dusty faded couch in the center of the frame with the coffee table sitting in front. After a few seconds, the video skips and suddenly there’s a raggedy looking doll sitting on the couch cushions.

It’s a slumped over mess of fabrics, it would almost be unrecognizable as a doll if its face wasn’t turned slightly towards the camera. There’s a wide-stitched smile and strange little googly eyes sewn onto its face, but that’s the only real features it seemed to have. The rest is patchworked, hastily thrown together into a vague doll-like shape.

Another video skip and the doll is sitting upright, facing the camera with the black dots of its eyes rolling slowly at the bottom of their clear casing... Rolling back and forth, back and forth... before snapping up to stare into the camera lens. That’s when it finally moves, slowly stretching its arms out to press onto the couch cushions underneath it as it takes a moment to stand, swaying there on its perch on the couch.

Then it steps forward. Strangely, it seems to stretch as it moves- as if someone took an image of it in a computer paint program and simply made its image much longer. Its limbs stretch to meet the floor as its head lifts towards the top of the screen. What stood in frame now was a monstrous amalgam of almost leathery looking patches and thick criss-crosses of thread holding it together. Somehow looking alive, yet still somehow not.

“Hhuuaa.... Huu huu~” The voice that chuckles in the audio seems to come from deep within the creature than come from its mouth- which now pulls at its seams as it curls into a more wicked grin. What had been googly eyes before had darkened into a wide-eyed watery gaze- a dog’s whale eye, whites flashing almost threateningly as the pupils shift.

“OoOOoohh looook~! Am I shtill cuuute?” The voice is a muffled creaky chuckle as the being- Angie- crouches slightly to lean a little more into frame. Her eyes still crinkle just slightly when her sewn mouth smiles wide again, patches fighting thread to flash a hint of hard white underneath for just a moment.

“Let’sssss cause some trouble...” She crackles as she straightens up, lifting the camera up to her height for a moment, letting it get one last good look at her strange patchwork Frankenstein’s monster-esque form before finally the video shuts off.

#drabble

(Just a note: I tend to use all of the memes on here as like... “AU unless specified”. You can send one that your muse wouldn’t normally or if our muses haven’t spoken or aren’t getting along or whatever else there may be! While I might incorporate it a little, nothing here is really “canon” in our rps unless you want it to be! Or if you want to use something as a starter- and even then, I’m fine with some au threads too!

Just wanted to mention it~ And also, you’re always free to dig thru and find older memes to send in, just maybe give a hint at which it is if it’s a specific ask meme and not a random prompt.)

#ooc

alicesought:

♡♠♢♣ ⁀ “ They’re in good hands, good hands~! ” Chirps the Hatter, already fidgeting with his attire and finding a pocket close to his heart to keep them in. “ I will, right away– I shall be too excited to wait! ”

They were off now, back to the table, the Hatter quite literally skipping, making his many belts and straightjacket-like restraints bounce and jingle like sleigh bells, chanting giddily ‘tea time’ to himself with every other skip. Though their strange statement on the flowers did manage to reach his tunnel visioned mind enough to give a laugh. “ No– no you must tell me about your wonderous flowers, dear girl! " He turns mid skip to begin skipping backwards. ( And have you ever seen that, a man skipping backwards? ) " Where they grow, why they’re magic, what language they sing in… But– tea first! " He cheerily insists, as though something about tea would contradict the act of talking of flowers. But they were so close now. So close. And he was so certain. It will be different this time. No one was coming to take her away, not a soul! Not even the Jabberwocky shall find them here! It felt as though all of Wonderland was in agreement. He can hear them. Screaming in his ears, blocking out all doubt.

But, patience. Patience! Precautions must be taken. He can’t lose this game, not again. That anxious nerve and all its drive was only outwardly mixed somewhere in his excitable gesturing, however. He takes the time to pull out their chair with a bow, hat dipped and all, before he takes his own seat. Coat tails flipped out, posture upright, and legs crossed– if only to resist further bouncing, and he tents his fingers. And he taps their gloved tips. And he smiles slightly too wide as he watches the tea be poured. And he ignores the whispering from the flowers. They’re asking him to do something… she might find upsetting. Not her flowers. The ones with faces. ” W-what a delight, what a sight! Golden as liquid sunlight… You’re quite right, though one might want sugar one must see how much they might! “ That slight stutter was because he realized he was waiting a beat too long to respond, an abruptness as he’s reminded to move into routine behavior. Smile. Nod. Lift the tea to his lips, pinky out. He takes quite a long sip of it. And before he can lower the cup something seems to earnestly strike him. He shuts his eyes and hums with surprise. And for one brief and vibrant moment his head was… clearer. Like smelling salts might wake the fainted.

But it didn’t last. The feeling would inevitably be followed by a flooding back of fluttering butterflies, flowering overgrowth, and he knew the feeling all too well, even if he couldn’t tell you where it came from. It tasted like falling in love. The very first thing that drove his disordered brain mad.

” Ohh… my… “ He blinks in flutters, and as he lowers the cup back to its saucer his hands try not to shiver. ” That is… perhaps my new favorite blend of tea! How… how nice a feeling..! “ Giggles begin to bubble up through an uneven grin as he meets their gaze. The feeling, nice perhaps, but his mind could never feel anything so gently. It made him giddy! It seemed to mingle with his flowers, take their side– and what was he to do? He was outnumbered– in his own mind! He relents.

” Before we sugar our teas–! “ He suddenly unwraps his legs and stands from his chair, gloved fingers spreading out like party poppers with the proposition. ” I nearly forgot… oh silly me… “ He taps his chin. ” I-I wanted to give you something! A token of gratitude! Let me see… Ah! How about… “ And so, leaning over to their side of the table, he makes a very specific gesture. He points one hand’s fingers to their eyes, curls his fingers back toward the air beside them as though pulling their very gaze by a string, with a flick of his wrist he manifests seemingly from thin air a single, long stemmed, pristine, velvety red rose.

But what of his other hand? It was somewhere, for just a moment, in her conscience’s blind spot, and back behind his back as he bows before one’d ever noticed.

” There! A lovely flower for a lovely girl… “

Angie will be forever amused at how enthusiastic this man was at what seemed to be just about everything. She almost wishes she had that sort of energy... But to be fair, there was something contagious enough about it that she can get by. “Tea first!” She echoes, flashing a little smirk now. “I’m a big believer of tasting before you ask questions... You can’t form opinions on the taste beforehand that way!”

Jervis’ beat pause to catch up then gains a curious glance, but it’s not really anything Angie thinks much of. She has moments where her own mind needs to catch up for a moment, after all... Instead, her gaze now is curious on his reaction to the tea. She doesn’t have a chance to share it with many guests, but all of their reactions do seem very similar... Just a beat, a moment of expression that always seems like something just hit them- a clear thought passed through their mind that leaves them staring into space if only for a briefest of seconds. She wonders if it’s all the same for everyone... Or what strange thing may come to mind for each person individually.

“Isn’t it lovely?” She beams when Jervis does look back to her after that First Taste Feeling passes. “The first time I was actually able to taste it, I felt like I was just floating on sunlight...” She admits to her own feel-good sensation as she wraps her hands around the cup, soaking in its warmth... Before giving a start when Jervis jumps up before she could even reach for the sugar.

“Ah? Oh! Oh gosh, you don’t have to, really, I...” The mention of giving a little gift and Angie tries her polite refusal, but catches her voice trailing away with her thoughts at the strange motions he gives. Before her expression could fully convey her confusion, it’s all replaced with a look of surprise at that flower being plucked seemingly out of thin air. She’s well enough impressed with this little show that she doesn’t quite notice anything else that may be going on around her... She actually even seems to forget herself for a moment, sort of slowly putting her tea cup down on the table before she takes that offered flower.

“Oh... Th-thank you...” Her voice grows quieter as she touches over those soft red petals oh so carefully, gazing down at the rose in her hands with an expression difficult to read... Though her already powdery pink cheeks seemed to grow more vibrant in the time it takes for her to take the flower and then glance back up with a breathy sort of laugh, head tilting as she turns her dark eyes back to him. “Ah... That’s impressive, I gotta say! Are you an illusionist, Jervis?”