the hatter's apprentice

jamie hatter // beyondalicerp

[67587]

🌿👀

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

willem-brannan‌:

“Wanderer?” Willem repeated, his brows furrowing as he picked apart the word. He hadn’t wandered into anything - at least, not intentionally. Nothing they’d done was on purpose and he hoped those who were against Wanderers would understand that. But then, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether all Wanderers - because there had to have been others before them - had all slipped in under the exact same circumstances: accidental ones.

At Jamie’s mention of Willem’s plan, he snapped out of his head. Willem had always been the type of person to have a plan. It only made sense what with all the books he had to read growing up and the little time to fit them all in. But slipping into a new world had certainly never been a part of any of his plans, and for what felt like the first time since he was six, Willem didn’t have a plan. 

Jamie’s suggestion of changing out of his clothes first, however, felt like a good place to start. “Uh-…I didn’t bring any with me, actually. We don’t really expect to fall into worlds in the-…world where I’m from.”

He didn’t want to get Jamie in trouble, especially if he wasn’t supposed to be helping someone like him. He’d read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe enough times as a kid to know how dangerous of a move he was making even helping him in the first place. If all he said was true. 

Not wanting to take that chance and risk someone kind enough to help any further, he replied, “If you wouldn’t mind just pointing me where to go so I can start finding my sister and cat, then I can get home. I promise I won’t breathe a word of you.”

"Yes, wanderer. That is what I said, isn’t it?” Jamie asked with a frown. He was positive he’d mentioned wanderers specifically, at least two or three times. “We’ve had fewer of you lately. But they’re always bound to show up sooner or later Wanderer is so close to wonderer, to Wonderland... it’s an unavoidable outcome, really.” 

He listened to the entirety of Willem’s plan before speaking up. Pointing him in the right direction? No, that wouldn’t do at all. Assuming he wasn’t a palace spy in disguise, Willem would get himself lost in the forest in half a tick-tock. Jamie could certainly set him on the right path towards somewhere he could stumble across his sister - and his cat? - or, at the very least, he could draw him a detailed map.

“Well, no, I don’t suppose many people carry a spare set of clothes in case of tumbling through to other worlds,” Jamie agreed, with a slight roll of his eyes. “We’ll just have to find you a dry set, won’t we?” He eyed Willem’s size - he was a slightly shorter and broader build, but he should be able to fit into some of Jamie’s extra clothes. “You’ll borrow some of mine. I don’t live far from here. Follow along, hmmm?”

With a decisive nod, he gestured towards the dirt lane farther from the river’s edge, well-worn with footprints and animal prints alike, which led into the forest and towards Swampscott. “Don’t get me wrong, I will be taking you up on that not-breathing-a-word-of-me promise, but it can wait until we set you on the right path.” 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

bluebelleoftheball‌:

Belle had to stifle a chuckle at his first greeting to her. Still with a smile on her face she nodded, “Well, I wanted to stop by and look around a bit. See what your shop looked like seeing as I had never been here before. Oh, and I brought you something.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small paper bag, holding it out to him. “I was going to get you chocolate chip but when I mentioned it was for you they said you prefer the lemon scones, so I got you one of those.” She had already decided she would go to find the scarf shop when she made her visit to the cafe that day, so she thought she’d do a kind gesture and bring him a treat during her visit.

“Please look around all you like.” Jamie gestured towards the wall off to their side, where all of the scarves were hung or, in some cases, draped artfully across multiple hooks, a colorful web of fabrics. “Here, we have all of our beautiful wares, and back there,” he said, pointing towards the back of the studio and his many counters covered in half-used materials, “is where I make them. It’s a mess, so don’t go too far back. But feel free to look around, or try any on. There are mirrors... around.” 

His eyes zeroed in on the small paper sack. “For me?” She had remembered he liked the lemon ones. Oh, that was... nice, he thought with surprise. He reached out to take the bag with some care, then pulled out the scone and, flattening the bag, used it as a plate to set the pastry down on the workshop counter before cleanly breaking the scone in two. “You must have half, and we must have tea to go along with it. You do like tea?” Jamie looked to her for confirmation.

[bluebelleoftheball]

@thehattersapprentice

Bluebelle approached the building she was told was the scarf maker’s workshop. She hesitated for a moment, if he was busy she surely didn’t want to bother him, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to just say hi. She pushed the door open and began looking around the shop. Jamie truly must’ve had an eye for beauty because Belle was simply mesmerized by the things within his shop. Some of the fabrics and scarves were unlike anything she had ever seen before, so intricate and detailed, she wondered why she had never been in here before because had surely been missing out. She was silent for a few moments, too busy gazing at the things before her, but she soon realized she had yet to announce herself, so she quickly called out a polite “Hello?” as she continued to look around.

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

Jamie had wedged himself in between his workbench and the closets lining the back wall of the shop, squinting as he attempted to untangle a mess of spiderwebbed thread that somehow managed to tangle itself in the drawer. When he heard someone call out in greeting, he twisted his upper body so he could see above the table he was up against. "Scones,” he said instantly, the first thing that came to mind when he saw the young woman’s face. Of course, that wasn’t her name - it had been something spectacular. Blue bell, that was it. Leaving the mess of thread on the floor, Jamie stretched as he stood and stepped her direction. “Bluebelle, you dropped by. Are you here for a scarf?” 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

flashfircs‌:

          tamar huffed impatiently. she wondered if it was worth the time           wasted to explain that no, the peppers were not used as vessels           for anything; they were used as toppings— as garnishes atop the buns.           almost like dinner rolls. thinking about it did make her mouth water           and stomach replicate a growl loud and wild enough to come from the tulgey.

         “they are indeed quite the common vegetable,” tamar drawled. irritation          nipped at her heels, at her tone. just because her head barely came up to          his shoulder didn’t mean he could look down his nose at her. “but who knows—          perhaps you have a craving to eat sawdust. after all, it has quite the semblance          to your own hair, colour-wise.”

Jamie wasn’t sure why she was huffing at him. The assumptions he had made were, in fact, obviously logical. But sawdust? “Sawdust isn’t a food,” he told her, somewhat pityingly. “So that wouldn’t make any sense at all. Although you are right that it matches my hair. Lots of things do - my hair is rather boring.”

Jamie glanced down the street then nodded decisively. “I think I’ll follow you. To try one of these so-called pepper buns. Lead on,” he demanded.  

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

alysewhite‌:

She leaned against the counter of the stand, resting her head in her hands as he spoke. When he mentioned the Mad Hatter, a little flicker of recognition sparked in her eyes. It seemed that they were the children of a much larger story. Of Rabbits in Waistcoats and Hatters and Queens and Alices… It was always odd, that feeling of being in a world larger than she had ever realized. A chapter in a much larger book. It also made her wonder if her chapters had already been written and she was just playing them out. “For a whole month?” Alyse repeated, a little surprised that anyone could go an entire month only speaking in rhymes. “I’d be afraid I’d run out of rhymes..” 

A sheepish little smile curled onto the corners of her mouth. “My mother started to teach me,” Alyse could foggily recall mornings covered in flour, the smell of cookies and pies and cakes in the oven. She’d begged her mother to bake every once in a while. When her mother died… it was one of the things she found solace in. In stories she could escape from the world she was in. In baking she felt like her mother was still with her in the kitchen, laughing along with her. “But most of the recipes I taught myself. I’ve even invented one or two-” she pointed towards the slice of pie he was holding. “That one was my first creation without a recipe.”

Jamie made a noise of confirmation around another bite of pie. He swallowed before explaining. “Yes. Though to be completely fair, I’m not entirely sure if he realized he was doing it.” Jamie had tried to speak to him in normal, non-rhyming sentences, but it was as though the words went in on ear and out the other. Eventually he realized he’d get a reply if he responded in the same way that the Hatter was speaking. He never actually explained why he was doing it, and Jamie had never asked. Maybe he should have asked more questions, Jamie considered as he took yet another bite of pie. “The trick is to make sure you end on a word with a strong vowel. That’s the only way to avoid throwing in the towel. See? Not difficult in the slightest.” 

For a first creation without a recipe, it certainly was a praise-worthy showing. “You did a magnificent job,” he told her. “Do you write them down so you can replicate them later? Or do you simply... wing it again, next time? That’s so exhilarating. Throwing ingredients in and hoping it turns out. If it ever doesn’t turn out, do save it. I would love to taste a spectacularly bad one too.”  

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

eloisexsinclair‌:

the hatters apprentice‌

Every time she stepped into the shop, Eloise couldn’t help but admire Jamie’s work. Some of the scarves on display truly were masterpieces, delicate and yet durable. How he was able to conceive and execute such elaborate patterns with the materials around him, she would never know. Then again, it seemed everyone had a specific calling in Wonderland. The magic in her guided her towards specific roots and plants while the artist in him guided him to the materials he needed for his work. There was no way that he would be able to possess her skills just as there was no way that she would ever be able to mimic anything that he did. 

It was the reason she always found herself in his store rather than trying to throw something of her own together. There was a light melody in the air which told her that he was around. His voice didn’t come right away but she heard the slight humming which only underlined her previous prediction. “Surely you cannot be surprised to see me here.” Eloise felt that she was probably among his most loyal customers. Sure plenty wore scarves in Wonderland but she wasn’t sure any of the inhabitants needed them like she did. For the rest they may have been a fashion accessory but for her, they were a requirement. 

“I’m looking for something for the warmer months that are coming,” she explained as her eyes continued to dance around for anything that could catch her fancy. “I’m thinking something a bit longer but lighter, if it is possible.” Longer so that she could wrap it around her neck whilst also pulling it over her head to provide shade from the scorching sun. She traveled a lot and it would be necessary during the day. And of course keeping her features hidden was always helpful as well. Made it harder for the spirits to identify her.

"I’m simply waiting for the day you decide you have enough scarves to last, and I’ll never see you again,” Jamie told Eloise. It was most likely because she was one of his most frequent customers that he was bewildered every time she came back. “Of course, he would provide her a different scarf for every day of the year if that was what she wanted - it seemed, though, that most people only needed a few to be satisfied with their scarf selections. “We are inching towards summer, aren’t we?” He left his worktable to join her in scouring the wall of finished scarves for something that would suit her request. 

Most of the ones he had available were leftovers from the winter months that he hadn’t found suitable wearers for just yet. “Oh, what about, hmmm...” He reached up to pull one off the hooks: about a time and a half longer than the others, with fringed ends. Taking one of the ends in hand, he pulled it apart to show her how far it stretched, almost more like a shawl than a traditional scarf. “Where will you be wearing it to? I think with this one, the fabric is too thick - you’d die of heat exhaustion within minutes - but if I weave one from a lighter silk following this pattern...?” 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

willem-brannan‌:

The first thing Willem thought as the stranger spoke to him in such a grandly way was that he had to have been having the cruellest dream to have not allowed him to wake up yet. The stranger’s words were holding him in place like cement around his ankles. Willem swallowed hard, his words were frozen behind his lips. 

Wonderland. There was no possible way. After all, Wonderland wasn’t real. 

Yet how else could he explain all that was around him if it wasn’t a dream? Logically, his eyes and senses were swimming in evidence that this was all very real. 

Willem wasn’t sure if he’d agree with the stranger about Wonderland being better than his world oh, great. Now he was agreeing that there were different worlds. After all, his world had Thea and Whiskey, both undeniably safe and alive at his side. Here, he wasn’t sure. At the thought, Willem gave one last search to the choppy waters, scanning for a glimpse of that familiar head of golden hair. As much as he wanted her at his side, he hoped he wouldn’t see it. He also hoped that if they somehow became separated that Whiskey was with Thea and not wandering some awful place in Wonderland. He adored his cat.

At the stranger’s next words, Willem finally worked the nerve to talk.

“Illicit?” he asked. “How so? And I-I’m sorry for all the questions, but this is not where I expected to be when I woke up this morning. Who’s the Crimson King and why would anyone tell on me?” 

His head told him not to say more about himself, but then after realizing that if the stranger had wanted him dead, he could have easily let him jump back into the river, Willem added, “I’m Willem, by the way. Willem Brannan.” 

Jamie waited in a semi-uncharacteristic show of patience while the boy seemed to face an internal struggle of some kind. It would be a shock, he knew, to drop into an entirely different land when you didn’t necessarily desire to travel there in the first place. He wondered just how different the stranger’s world was. It’d been a frequent topic of conversation when he was younger, asking the Hatter all about the places outside Wonderland, whether he’d learned them from Wanderers themselves or people, who had heard stories from Wanderers, or people who had only dreamt that they’d met Wanderers. Without having been there himself, it was difficult to picture what another world would be like.

On the whole, though, the boy appeared to be taking the whole thing rather well.

"Illicit because our current monarch,” Jamie began, grimacing a bit at the mention of the King, “whom one might describe as having tyrannical tendencies, though you didn’t hear that from me, does not approve of Wanderers. That would be you.” He lifted fingers and used them mime someone walking. “Wandering in from another world, as you’ve done. He believes you’re dangerous, so we’re meant to report you directly to the palace. If we don’t, we could be arrested as well. Luckily, I’m not so concerned about that. But if I were you, I’d keep my background hush-hush.” 

He paused. “You really shouldn’t trust anyone in Wonderland. Not even me, although I know you can trust me because I am me...” Wait, though. How could Jamie trust him? There was always the chance that it was just a trap, one of the King’s men who’d planted himself in disguise, trying to ensnare Wonderlandians who wouldn’t report him. He narrowed his eyes slightly. Even if it was a trap, Jamie wasn’t going to turn him in either way. The Crimson King could shove it. 

He nodded at Willem’s introduction. “Jamie Hatter.” He didn’t bother giving a false name, as he wasn’t good at keeping those straight anyway. Jamie considered offering to take Willem to the Wander Inn, which he’d heard was accepting of Wanderers... but if he was secretly associated with the King, Jamie didn’t want to lead him straight there. It would be best to see what the boy suggested on his own first. “What’s your plan, then? I would recommend changing out of your very wet clothes first.” 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

flashfircs‌:

          there were odd people aplenty in wonderland— rather less           within the palace walls than without— but tamar had           encountered them enough. she saw the lift of his hand and           was fully prepared to dart away, to wander off to find someone           else to bandy with over buns. odd people she could deal with,           but years of living with knights had her suspicious of odd touches           from strangers.

          “bell peppers,” she clarified, a bit sharply. “they’re savoury buns,           not sweet ones.” she paused, frowning a bit. “and it’s got nothing           to do with my hair— i just haven’t had anything else to eat today.”

“A bell pepper that you... use as a bun...” Jamie mused. It seemed nonsensical to sell such a thing at the bakery, vegetables parading around as bread - but something about the idea was intriguing, the idea that anything could be anything else. Or the other way around - dough disguised as carrots. “And with cheese, you said?” 

“Are you sure it has nothing to do with your hair?” His tone was slightly condescending. “There are red bell peppers, you know. I’ve seen them.”

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

lucienthemerciful‌:

“So now you are openly admitting you aren’t loyal to the King?” he asked, knowing that beating around the bush wouldn’t get very far. Evidently this man was good with words, and he didn’t much feel like falling into a trap just because he tried to play him at his own game. He knew his strengths, word play was not one of them. “Arrest you? No, I see little point in arresting anyone for words. Just depends if there is treason”. 

He could have groaned at that. Of all the stupid things to do, that felt like it should be at the top of his list. It was only because he didn’t feel like there was any danger around that he wasn’t overly concerned. But why on earth would anyone want to turn someone elses discarded skin into a scarf? That just sounded morbid to him. Really, there were limits.

“Yes, because I am sure anyone lurking and getting ready to pounce would happily respond to that” he replied, not even attempting to hide the sarcasm from his voice. “I wasn’t hiding, nor am I disguised. Even if it is rude, it is my job”.

On some level, Jamie knew that perhaps it wasn’t wise to antagonize a Crimson soldier. But what he knew he should do and what he was drawn to do were two very compartmentalized parts of his consciousness, and they didn’t often agree. 

"Oh, I never quite said that, did I?” he replied, gasping in mock offense. The simple over-exaggeration of his words made it clear that his goal was simply to be as obnoxious as possible. These... palace people. He couldn’t stand them. “I wouldn’t dare. Not in front of one of the King’s lovely lackeys. Treason? Never heard the word.” His eyes widened as he batted his eyelashes innocently, but his self-satisfied expression gave it away. 

When the man replied with sarcasm at his call out towards the forest, Jamie shrugged. “I’d respond. And no, I’ll give you that, since it’s you weren’t hiding this time. That doesn’t mean you haven’t before or won’t again. If even you agree that it’s rude, consider: getting a new job. There are countless employment opportunities around every corner. Unless you’re too busy groveling at our benevolent monarch’s feet.” That may have been an overgeneralization, but he didn’t take it back. “Tell me - what do you get out of your job, hmmm?” 

[flashfircs-blog]

「 late morning, fairtown. 」

          tamar had rolled out of bed catastrophically late, already panicking           on her way out the door. she had errands to run today, things to buy           that she couldn’t pilfer from the palace’s supplies. she’d bullied her            way into taking a horse to fairtown, somehow towering over a stable           boy that was half a head taller than her.

          but now here she was, looping the horse’s reins around a fence post            and listening to her stomach snarl. patting her pockets to ensure her           small coin purse hadn’t been lost on the short ride over, she frowned           thoughtfully. “i wonder if the baker still has those pepper buns,” she           murmured. eating before errands was a mouth-watering option, opposed           to going hungry until lunch. she hummed thoughtfully before turning to           the person closest to her. “does the baker still have those pepper buns?           the ones with cheddar on the top?”

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

Jamie glancing down his nose at the very short young woman in the street who’d just tied up her horse. “I wouldn’t know.” He couldn’t recall buns of any flavor at the baker’s. But then again, he didn’t actually know which baker she was talking about. 

Her request made a sort of sense. Pepper could, in some situations, have the same aggressively sharp taste as her brilliant red hair. “I wonder if your desire relates to your extraordinary hair color,” he wondered aloud, reaching out slowly with one hand as if to touch the dazzling strands before catching himself and dropping his hand. “But why would someone put pepper in buns?” 

[eloisexsinclair]

@thehattersapprentice

The weather was only beginning to heat once more, and the few pieces of neckwear that she owned were becoming too dated and worn for her taste. It was absolutely impossible to catch sight of Eloise without a flowy garment adorning her high placed neck. It was her tell, her neck. The thin scar that made its way all the way around the slim expanse was a dead giveaway of her identity. And there were some in Wonderland who knew her but plenty who only knew of her. The Necromancer, the one who had been brought back from the dead was but a mere myth to many and Eloise preferred to keep it that way. She did not want more people hounding her for her magic or asking her if she could tell them what lay beyond. Perhaps the part that she didn’t claim, that she didn’t openly admit was that in her life, she was seeking some type of normalcy. Eloise didn’t want to be the Necromancer, the one who spoke to the dead, the one whose existence itself countered fate. She just wanted to be a woman who wore nice scarves and made healing potions. 

It was no surprise therefore that she was a frequent patron for the Hatter’s Apprentice who was able to conceive and execute pieces that were suitable for her needs. The actual fashion of it was only of some importance to her. “Hello?” She called out for the man, not wandering too far into his workplace. 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

Jamie's tall frame was bent over his sewing table in the back of his workshop, measuring lengths of thread he’d just finished trying to spin from corn silk. The trouble was that the pieces of cornsilk were so short that to connect them he’d had to knot them together, and it made the thread go a bit wonky. Still, it might work... he’d have to wait and see. 

His current wares were hung haphazardly on hooks along the side wall, an explosion of varied color and texture, with only a few repeating patterns that he liked so much he had to make two. As he worked, a low, mellow melody echoed from the seashell sitting on the sill in front of the open window, a shell that had been enchanted so that when placed in the sunlight, it projects music from... somewhere. Jamie had no idea how it worked, but he did know that it helped to fill the empty space with sound. He hummed along with the unfamiliar melody, unconcerned that his pitch clashed more often than not. 

Completely immersed in the task at hand, Jamie didn’t notice when the door opened, only glancing up when someone called his name. “Ms. Eloise,” he replied in surprise. He was surprised every time she came back, actually, despite the fact that she was one of his most frequent customers - unconventional, as she never really seemed to care what she acquired as long as it covered her neck, but he took the unique opportunity for what it was. He set down his half-woven work on the table in front of him. “What brings you in today?”  

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

greyfogrobe‌:

Chewing the inside of her bottom lip as she heard him writhing about upon the ground, she picked her brain apart to figure out how far she wanted to take things this time. And though her fingers wiggled to shuffle more from the cards she’d pulled from his mind, Grey stopped upon one of his. The one that seemed to be hurting him the most from all his fears she’d unleashed: loneliness. 

With a snap of her fingers, she tugged the thread away. The taste of dust cleared from her tongue, replaced with that of the cold leaf-drenched air, and her lungs opened once more and filled like balloons.

She gave him the peace of humming a while longer, the warmth of autumn, evenings tucked at home, diving into the pages of a fantastic book circling around them. Then, when she had no more happy thoughts to spend, she stopped her song.

“There,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Now you know how the forest feels.”

It wasn’t fair that Jamie’s agonizingly slow strangulation seemed to last for ages. His forlorn panic only increased as he could feel himself being hastily blotted out of the pages of Wonderland’s history. His mind was constricted by the sensation of withering away in utter isolation just as the invisible thread did the same to his airway. But then with a snap - the thin filament choking him vanished, and his workshop - or the illusion of his workshop - dissolved. He was... in the dirt on the ground, with his clammy hands still clutched around his throat. His breath came in deep gulps like the last breaths of a drowning man as he slowly sat up in disorientation. How did he end up on the ground? 

Through his mental haze, he recognized the humming sound from earlier picking up again in the air. The warm, melodious tune began anew, its aura of peace prodding his senses. But unlike before, this time the song didn’t manage to reach the horribly hollow space that had suddenly sprung forth inside his chest. 

The song crawled to an end. “Now you know how the forest feels.” 

Jamie forced his palms into fists and pressed them to his lap to halt their trembling. “...I don’t like that at all,” he mumbled in a croaking voice. He didn’t want to dwell on her words. He couldn’t, really, because what he’d just felt was appalling, and if the forest truly did feel that way, that would be just... abhorrent, so much so that he couldn’t... his mind rejected the thought, didn’t even attempt to wrap itself around so much sheer devastation. 

His instinct was to flee instantly, lest she sting him with her song a second time, but Jamie could not physically bring himself to move. He numbly fixed his burning eyes on the tangled roots of the forest floor, frozen in place by residual dread. He needed to make these... emotions go away, so he could get himself up, and go. “Don’t... don’t do that again. Please.” 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

cereswitch‌:

The ‘thank you’ made her lips show the briefest of smiles. Manners. Maybe that’s why she put up with him.

His question had infinite answers. What do you believe the scales are worth?  Olivia paced around the clearing, thinking - mindful to not step on any young plants looking to spring forth from the earth. She talked out loud as she did so.

“What do I believe the scales are worth? Possibly some gold pieces if you want to be boring about it. A few baskets of vegetables from my garden. A remedy or two off my shelf. And, well, you know, there are days when I would do just about anything for a good cup of tea. I’d say they’re  worth about at least three of those on a day when you really need them.”

Olivia ticked each option off with her fingers and came to a halt at her last suggestion.

“But I think the answer that you want, the one you should go for, is that I can certainly offer you a portion of whatever potion comes of them. Which, of course, might ultimately be nothing more than a nice perfume, but I really won’t know till I try.”

The witch’s mind was already ticking away though, thinking about the ways she would troubleshoot all the things she wanted to do. The most prominent thought had something to do with using the armor-like quality of those scales. Could a potion give you armor? It could certainly change her appearance, how far off was a tougher skin? Wouldn’t that be of use to the Rebellion…

As Pleasance paced around the small clearing, discussing her tradable options aloud, Jamie settled down on the ground with his back against the tree trunk nearest to his discovery, his long legs stretched out in front of him along the tree’s roots. He began carefully folding the scaled skin as she spoke.

Oh, no, gold was terribly boring. Vegetables... he weighed that option seriously for a moment. But then again, he could still get vegetables from that darling little farmstand down the way, if he really wanted them. Although Pleasance’s vegetables might be better, or fresher. For some reason, he had the strong feeling that her vegetables would be crunchier. She had the general aura of one whom vegetables would trust to grow better for. Maybe he could procure matching vegetables, one of hers and one from the stand, in order to compare them, for curiosity’s sake... 

Jamie suddenly paused mid-fold, realizing that Pleasance had continued talking, and he hadn’t been paying attention. But he managed to catch her one final suggestion for him - well, that sounded like it would work fine. 

“I was distracted by your vegetable notion,” he told her. “But since the chance to share in a few drops of Mystery Potion is more of a once-in-a-very-long-time situation, I think I will take you up on your last offer.” He twisted a bit from his seated position so he could reach into the pocket of his tightly-fitting trousers, and pulled out a pocket knife. Flipping it open, he held it out towards the potioneer, offering the now-folded molting in his other open palm. “Choose your scales, if you like.” 

“I wonder what it’ll do, the potion,” he mused. “Even if it’s dull, I don’t think I’ll mind. How do you test them? Do you drink them and then simply wait to see what happens?” 

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

willem-brannan‌:

Willem stopped as the stranger spoke reason and put his hands upon his chest. His large eyes, still anxiously blinking, peered panic-stricken from the river back to the stranger. He was right. He would have heard Thea or Whiskey. There would have been thrashing beyond his own. Not to mention that Thea was stronger than him. If he’d made it out, she certainly would have. 

He swallowed hard as he worked to piece together the memories he could muster of how he’d gone from sitting comfortably in his bedroom to where he was now. Wherever that was. 

“I was chasing after her,” he began to explain. “She saw something…a white rabbit in a waistcoat. I followed them and then we all fell into a hole. Next, I landed into this river.” For the first time since he’d arrived, Willem took a look around at where he’d fallen. Wherever he was had similarities to the world he knew, yet somehow everything here felt far from ordinary. There was a strange hum in the air like the wind was made of velvet and every blade of grass oozed with the magic he’d read of back when he used to cling onto books all night and day. Before he’d given them all up following his mother’s death and possible murder.

When he calmed down, taking several deep breaths inwards, Willem managed to look back at the stranger. “Where am I?” he asked. Though the answers were already starting to dawn on him all on his own.

Jamie observed with bated breath as the boy continued shifting his eyes anxiously back towards the river. Would what he said make sense? He hoped so, but he also readied himself to grab the others’ arms in case he made a jump for it. (It wasn’t like he cared about saving the stranger’s life, necessarily. It was more that Jamie didn’t want to have to watch him drown right in front of him. That would be traumatic for everyone involved.)

Jamie only relaxed when the boy began to recount his tale, since it seemed as though he wasn’t about to dive back in (at least, not immediately). White rabbit, falling down a rabbit hole. Jamie frowned, the details of the recounted plight itching in the back of his mind. Hadn’t he heard this story before? 

Of course. He certainly had - he’d heard it from the Hatter himself, the story of legend. Despite the very drenched, very anxious boy in front of him, and the severity of the situation at hand, Jamie’s face crinkled into a blissful smile. “Welcome to Wonderland,” he said grandly. “Our world is much better than yours, I’m sure, but there’s no need to be intimidated.” 

He leaned slightly closer, examining the stranger with more open curiosity. “You and your sister sound like Wanderers, quite an illicit status to hold, but not to worry. I don’t trust the Crimson King. I won’t tell on you.” 

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thehattersapprentice‌

“Oh, no, no,” Jamie hastily replied, scandalized at the very thought. “I don’t make hats. I make scarves.” She had brought up a good point, though. He hadn’t considered the need for shift-able scarf design. But there had to be a way, maybe of emulating the fabrics that could change with the werepeople? His mind whirred for a moment, before he snapped his fingers. “I have to leave now, or I’ll forget what my idea is,” he told Cilla bluntly.

Making sure the molting he’d found was still in his pocket, he began to stride back towards the main path. “Best wishes in your search for answers. I’ll find you later and perhaps you can tell me about it. Don’t die in the forest, Rebel Rabbit.” 

“Oh. I suppose that isn’t too clear. Hatter’s apprentice that makes scarves. Understood.” Cilla blinked, surprised as the man disappeared down the path. Don’t die in the forest. “Thank you, I’ve no intentions of doing so.” She shifted back into a rabbit and hopped away, doing her best not to die.

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

rabbitsrebel‌:

Cilla shrugged. “I don’t think a hat would be very practical when I shift. It would be quite difficult to move around while trapped under something the same size as me.” Cilla raised an eyebrow. “Unless of course, you have a hat that fits that requirements and might not make me look ridiculous.”

"Oh, no, no,” Jamie hastily replied, scandalized at the very thought. “I don’t make hats. I make scarves.” She had brought up a good point, though. He hadn’t considered the need for shift-able scarf design. But there had to be a way, maybe of emulating the fabrics that could change with the werepeople? His mind whirred for a moment, before he snapped his fingers. “I have to leave now, or I’ll forget what my idea is,” he told Cilla bluntly.

Making sure the molting he’d found was still in his pocket, he began to stride back towards the main path. “Best wishes in your search for answers. I’ll find you later and perhaps you can tell me about it. Don’t die in the forest, Rebel Rabbit.”