FC: Lee Pace
Magic!Anons: None
Tracking:
Look at the center of this image for 30sec, then watch Van Gogh’s *Starry Night* come to life
just-keep-diving-down-the-hole:
just-keep-diving-down-the-hole:
“Where’s Alice, where’s the queen…where am I!?”
“Quiet down! Unlike you, others here are trying to get some rest if you haven’t noticed!” The Hatter furrowed his eyebrows and covered his face with his hat, hoping to shut out the noise the other was making.
“Hatter! Thank God. Where have you been, I’ve been searching everywhere for you!”
“I’ve been here the entire time. Where have you bee-” He fixed his hat so that it rested on his head the right way, and looked at the rabbit. “Scratch that, considering you don’t even have a clue as to where you are.”
He couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows again at the sight of the other. Panicked and surprised seemed to be the right term. “What exactly has gotten into you?”
just-keep-diving-down-the-hole:
“Where’s Alice, where’s the queen…where am I!?”
“Quiet down! Unlike you, others here are trying to get some rest if you haven’t noticed!” The Hatter furrowed his eyebrows and covered his face with his hat, hoping to shut out the noise the other was making.
ask-the-utterly-insane-dormouse:
ask-the-utterly-insane-dormouse:
ask-the-utterly-insane-dormouse:
ask-the-utterly-insane-dormouse:
ask-the-utterly-insane-dormouse:
“H-Hatter?” The wheeled mouse got down on all fours and started to back away. “W-what do you think you’re doing here?” he said, scrunching up his nose.
“Well, why do you think I’m ‘ere you blubbering old tinker toy?” The Hatter tapped the tip of his cane on the dormouse’s wheel and leaned forward to get a better view at his old‘friend’. There was a slight pause before he had continued on, the sound of gears grinding coming from within as he turned on his heels. Slightly amused by the sound of nervousness in the dormouse’s tone.
“I’m ‘ere to have a hot cup ‘o tea.” The Hatter’s voice had a tint of malice in it, but he had honestly felt that a cup of tea was in order.
The Dormouse gingerly pushed the Hatter’s cane away from himself and looked up at the clockworked man suspiciously. He sniffed the air around him, as if he could smell, and raised a non-existent eyebrow at the Hatter. “You should know very well that we won’t share tea with the likes of you!” he barked. “And don’t ask why! You know why…..Or should, anyway.”
“Indeed, I know very well, but at least I ‘ave the common decency to go on and ask! Especially if there was tea involved at least.” Scowling, the Hatter straightened his posture slightly and pointed his cane back toward the other, shaking it. ”I should tear you apart limb by bloodymechanicallimb, especially after what you did to Alice and I! You should be bloody grateful that I didn’t just bash your head in as soon as I arrived!”
The Hatter gripped his cane as he spoke, looking at the surrounding area, then back at Dormouse. “You didn’t exactly do it on your own either. Tell me. Where is the March Hare?”
“Hmph! We were only giving you what you deserve for what you did to us! A taste of your own medicine, if you will.” The wheeled mouse backed himself up a bit more, baring his teeth as if he could snarl. “Not like Alice deserved any better. She saw us and didn’t even bother to help us! The March Hare would agree, too. Speaking of which, he is around here, though he seems much busier than I. I highly doubt he’d be any more pleased to see you than I am, in fact he might even tear you apart on the spot, he despises you so much for what you did! We should’ve killed you while we had you in pieces, in fact!”
He began to flicker his tail angrily, still looking up at the Hatter. “You’re lucky we didn’t, too. The Hare kept saying ‘Weh woan’t kill ‘im, but weh’ll let theh bluidy bastard suffer! It’s better that wey, lad!’ and I agreed with him. Obviously, you haven’t suffered enough to learn anything! I wouldn’t bother trying to reach the Hare.”
He pressed his cane into the ground hard, and shook his head.”Well, what exactly did you two think she was going to do? Hmm? You both had gone mad and went on to attack her! Anyway you both seem perfectly fine to me, if it hurt that much you should have screamed louder!”
Listening to the others words, he almost gave out a laugh. “In fact, he just might not, and he might also react exactly the same way you did but that doesn’t mean anything, your threats, his threats, they’re all empty. If the both of you wanted me as dead as you claim you would’ve done so on the spot and you definitely would have done it when you had me in pieces. Suffer? The only thing that made me suffer was the bare fact that couldn’t have any tea! Which I’d rather have at the moment of course..”
He trailed off with a thought of a steamed cup of tea, but shook out of it. “What exactly are you waiting for now? An invitation? Or are you waiting on the poor old bunny?”
The mouse would never admit it, but he was a bit scared as well as angry at the appearance of the Hatter. Not to mention, completely unprepared. If he knew the Hatter would show up, he could have all mechanical gizzards ready for him and traps just like when that self-centered and ungrateful Alice tried to defeat them. He’d very well like to reach for a lever with his tail and have a house dropped on the half-mechanical man. “Waiting? Well…” His thoughts trailed off for a moment as he seemed as if he were in a daze. He started to shake. If it hurt that much, you should have screamed louder!
He snapped himself out of it and looked up at the man. “Impossible! You’re impossible and you don’t learn! Brainless ninny! Is tea all you care for? Tea! I’ll give you tea! I’ll drown you in tea! Hot steaming tea! Hot enough to scorch your very skin and boil your brains if you’ve even got any left! Is that how you like your tea? Or perhaps you would like to take your tea with blood! Your own blood! Or…” The mouse went on and on with several ways to torture the Hatter involving tea, the very fact that he’s flipped his lid becoming more and more obvious. With every method he described with vivid detail, he seemed more and more out of it. The mouse didn’t stop talking.
Hatter listened on as the Dormouse continued on with his ramblings of torture, and had at one point became amused. All the Hatter wanted to do was knock him off of his hind wheels and hit him over the head repeatedly with his cane. But instead he continued listening on, nodding his head at the attention the Dormouse was giving to the idea of what he could do to the Hatter rather than executing it.
“Now, now, this is ‘xactly what I trying to say! But you’re as ignorant as ever aren’t you?”
Hatter felt as though he was pulling teeth trying to have a decent conversation with the tinker toy, all he wanted was tea, and all the Dormouse had spoke of was killing him with it. He honestly thought if there was any way to die, to die by the form of secondary drowning caused by tea was a good way to go. Tapping his cane lightly on the ground this time, Hatter looked at the Dormouse with a look of annoyance. “What will it take for you to shut your trap and accept the fact that your plans are over, and that I’m going nowhere?”
The wheeled rodent stopped rambling and looked down for a moment. True, it had been rather hard for him to accept that he no longer was in any sort of power. In his screwed up mind, he was still a fearsome leader just like he had been before Alice stopped the train. He knew very well he wasn’t and he also knew very well that he and Hare had been manipulated in the back of his mind, but for some reason, he still thought the way he did back then. It was hard to tell if it was because of all the damage done to his brain, the nails through his head, the crud that was covering parts of it, and the pieces of it that were probably removed, or if it was because, being from Wonderland, he was just that delirious and mad. He looked up at the man. What was he to do with him now? He was right, the mouse couldn’t take him down, not by himself and without much power, and it was clear the Hatter wasn’t leaving any time soon.
“What kind of tea?” the Dormouse mumbled very quietly, purposely making himself hard to hear.
The Hatter watched the Dormouse, he seemed to be thinking over is priorities, which the Hatter preferred more rather than the poor thing going mad. When he finally heard the other speak he straightened himself up, straining slightly to hear what the other had said more clearly, tapping his cane lightly on the floor as he spoke. Shaking off the mad thoughts of what he would do if there was no tea and if that were the case, he had begun to walk off, he wasn’t sure whether or not the Dormouse or the Hare even had a kitchen, or at least a place where they dined, if they dined at all. “Well, I do prefer to have some Earl Grey, if you have that stocked around here somewhere.”
He wasn’t sure if this was some kind of trap, but if it was he was ready for it, somewhat.
ruineshumaines - Michelangelo, Pietà (Pity).
I am sure every girl can recall, at least once as a child, coming home and telling their parents, uncle, aunt or grandparent about a boy who had pulled her hair, hit her, teased her, pushed her or committed some other playground crime. I will bet money that most of those, if not all, will tell you that they were told “Oh, that just means he likes you”. I never really thought much about it before having a daughter of my own. I find it appalling that this line of bullshit is still being fed to young children. Look, if you want to tell your child that being verbally and/or physically abused is an acceptable sign of affection, i urge you to rethink your parenting strategy. If you try and feed MY daughter that crap, you better bring protective gear because I am going to shower you with the brand of “affection” you are endorsing.
When the fuck was it decided that we should start teaching our daughters to accept being belittled, disrespected and abused as endearing treatment? And we have the audacity to wonder why women stay in abusive relationships? How did society become so oblivious to the fact that we were conditioning our daughters to endure abusive treatment, much less view it as romantic overtures? Is this where the phrase “hitting on girls” comes from? Well, here is a tip: Save the “it’s so cute when he gets hateful/physical with her because it means he loves her” asshattery for your own kids, not mine. While you’re at it, keep them away from my kids until you decide to teach them respect and boundaries.
My daughter is 10 years old and has come home on more than one occasion recounting an incident at school in which she was teased or harassed by a male classmate. There has been several times when someone that she was retelling the story to responded with the old, “that just means he likes you” line. Wrong. I want my daughter to know that being disrespected is NEVER acceptable. I want my daughter to know that if someone likes her and respects her, much less LOVES her, they don’t hurt her and they don’t put her down. I want my daughter to know that the boy called her ugly or pushed her or pulled her hair didn’t do it because he admires her, it is because he is a little asshole and assholes are an occurrence of society that will have to be dealt with for the rest of her life. I want my daughter to know how to deal with assholes she will encounter throughout her life. For now, I want my daughter to know that if someone is verbally harassing her, she should tell the teacher and if the teacher does nothing, she should tell me. If someone physically touches her, tell the teacher then, if it continues, to yell, “STOP TOUCHING/PUNCHING/PUSHING ME” in the middle of class or the hallway, then tell me. Last year, one little boy stole her silly bandz from her. He just grabbed her and yanked a handful of them off of her wrist. When I went to the school to address the incident, the teacher smiled and explained it away to her, in front of me, “he probably has a crush on you”. Okay, the boy walked up to my daughter, grabbed and held her by the arm and forcibly removed her bracelets from her as she struggled and you want to convince her that she should be flattered? Fuck off. I am going to punch you in the face but I hope you realize it is just my way of thanking you for the great advice you gave my daughter. If these same advice givers’ sons came home crying because another male classmate was pushing them, pulling their hair, hitting them or calling them names, I would bet dollars to donuts they would tell him to defend themselves and kick the kid’s ass, if necessary. They sure as shit wouldn’t say, “he probably just wants a play date”.
I will teach my daughter to accept nothing less than respect. Anyone who hurts her physically or emotionally doesn’t deserve her respect, friendship or love. I will teach my boys the same thing as well as the fact that hitting on girls doesn’t involve hitting girls. I can’t teach my daughter to respect herself if I am teaching her that no one else has to respect her. I can’t raise sons that respect women, if I teach them that bullying is a valid expression of affection.
The next time that someone offers up that little “secret” to my daughter, I am going to slap the person across the face and yell, “I LOVE YOU”.
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