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![[info]](http://www.greatestjournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) as_a_hatter
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Who: Hatter & OPEN
What: Strange place, strange people, strange customs, but some things never change
Where: Merhdadstan
When: Err. Nowish?
Hatter had lost his way before. He'd lost lots of things. His way, his mind, time, dates, coins, buttons, socks, spectacles, cups, kettles, the Dormouse, himself, his house, his name, Alice, bits of mail, his hearing, the loose string collection that he was saving up on until he had enough for a new vest, his voice, teeth, hair, important bits of paper. For one rather embarrassing week, he'd lost his left ear. Thankfully, no one else had seemed the wiser.
So losing his guide wasn't particularly distressing. So long as he had his hat, Hatter found he could get by without all the other things. And since he never, ever lost his hat, there were certain other things he was never without. Like fresh scones and a cup of hot tea. The essentials.
This was a very strange place. Many things he saw, he simply didn't believe. The ground was mostly dirt, and dry, and pale. He hadn't seen any grass in a long time. The talking cat had made some comments about needing water, but Hatter thought the only kind of water worth drinking had to be sufficiently prepared with dried leaves prior to consumption.
He admired the carpets that were flying by. Those were interesting, bright, and seemed normal enough to Hatter. If horses could fly, butter could fly, and even houses could fly, why shouldn't carpets fly, too? He pondered trying to find one for himself, but ultimately decided that it wouldn't be worth the hassle of taming one just to set his favorite armchair on. Thoughts of wild packs of carpets danced in his mind, complex mating rituals involving crochet or knitting needles, territory fights that resulted in loss of yarn and tassle... even a war party overpowering a flock of sheep to shear for fresh materials.
Hatter was distracted from his thoughts by what seemed to be a street performer. The man was sitting on a mat, a rough woven basket in front of him, and an interesting hat, made up from a very long strip of cloth wrapped around his head with a large mirrored jewel to secure it in the center, set upon his head. The hat - a turban, Hatter reminded himself, quite an interesting history with those - was holding his interest until the music began. The man was sitting cross-legged in front of his basket, playing a funny-shaped pipe. The sounds were willowy and nasal. Hatter wrinkled his nose, pulling a fresh cup of tea out from under his hat (with a saucer, of course. This might have been a strange land, but that didn't mean he had to be uncivilized) and took a sip, wondering if he ought to explain to the man how his pipe seemed to be out of tune.
As he watched, the lid of the basket slid away, and a rope poked out from the top. Hatter blinked. The rope was moving strangely. It reminded him of something else, something that was thin and green that he had seen in the jungle and hit with a stick until it stopped moving before running away. Setting his teacup back on the saucer, Hatter looked around at the rest of the crowd on the street. No one else seemed to be noticing the phenomenon. He looked at the pipe-player. His eyes were closed, obviously not seeing the impending threat. A rope! A rope that was... it was acting like a snake! For a moment, Hatter wondered in horror if it was related to the savage wild carpets. Did the man even know there'd been one hiding in his basket?
Interrupting while the man was playing a tune would be incredibly rude. But letting him be viciously mauled by a sentient snake-rope would also be terribly rude. It was a moral dilemna. The rope was starting to slither towards the man, coil after coil slipping from the basket. The wailing, nasal sound of the pipe seemed to be holding its attention. Showing an uncanny amount of bravery and resolve, Hatter stepped forward, pulled the pipe from the man's grasp and started hitting the rope with it, intending to do the same as he had done in the jungle.
Once the rope had stopped moving, Hatter dropped the pipe and started to run, before it could recover.
Tags:
march hare, mad hatter
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From:
m_hare
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Date: 12/23/2007 00:34:14 |
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After leaving Scheherazade, Hare had traveled to the stream, where she had cleaned herself up and dunked the Dormouse into the water until he was absolutely soaked. She had filled her pots and cups (and for some reason, an out of the blue canteen) with the water, and then headed in the direction of the city.
Before completely leaving the jungle, Hare took a little memoir. Hare knew it was nearing Christmas (which was Hare's FAVORITE holiday, and could feel it coming in her mere bones), and had uprooted a rather small, festive looking tree. It was odd, but quite festive,
Then, the jungle shrubs began to grow scarcer and scarcer, until Hare finally reached the desert.
At first, Hare thought the sand as a very light brown sugar, or perhaps a foreign sort of spice, and attempted to taste it. Afterward, she had made a great deal of spitting and fussing, thoroughly disappointed. She was happy to see no one around to jeer at her unruly behavior, although bewildered with the sugar.
Her bewilderment grew into greater disappointment, as she witnessed the only 'dessert' to be the disgusted tan sugar. Fortunately, she never bumped into this 'Heat' clan, although she did find the temperature to be extremely hot. She and the Dormouse were quite thankful for the water.
Finally, Hare reached the city of Mehrdadstan in the evening. It was like nothing she had ever seen with her own eyes before, but a word that popped immediately inside her thoughts was 'exotic'. She had probably picked the word up from one of Hatter's books, if not Hatter himself.
She ventured into the city, following her favorite scent into the tea district. There she made quick friends (and foes) among the tea merchants, who served her concoctions they themselves referred to as 'chai' (ch-EYE-ee). It was a dark brew, and exquisite in Hare's most humble and honest opinion. To those who served Hare tea happily, she dished out good advice and samples of her own tea recipes, occasionally taking the time to stir up a brew of her own. At one point she was engaged in a heated argument with a giant reptile. His tongue (as in language, although physically his tongue was long and spectacular) was very strange, and by the time he was done yelling at Hare (something to do with offending the gods... or at least, that's what Hare thought), he was also waving around a large skewer.
Needless to say, Hare left in a hurry. She hadn't forgotten her true mission, anyways, although she was packed with a plethora of leaves and spices.
She searched near and far within the city for her favorite Hat, low and high. The high part didn't come until later, when she realized the carpets were whisking civilians to and fro... in the air.
Hare somehow managed to rent a carpet of her own (in exchange for a tea pot and some saffron), and set off to look for Hatter from above. Steering the carpet was quite easy, all she needed to do was grip the front of the bright, hand-woven beauty and maneuver it slightly to the left or right (or if the situation called for it, up or down).
Other than that nasty little spat, Hare was having a lovely time. Her festive little 'Christmas' tree sat neatly in between her criss crossed legs, decorated with tea cups and also little charms from the city. But the tree and ornaments and tea could not plug that empty, lost like emotion Hare still felt.
And then, she saw it. She saw the Hat. At first she thought she was having a daydream, or as the funny people in the "Oh-pee-uhm" shop had said a "hallucination". But if it was a dream, who cared? Not Hare. She liked that Hat no matter one, dreaming or not dreaming.
Veering the carpet down, she willed it to lower itself just slightly above the crowds of people. Hatter seemed to be hitting something, before she could find out what, Hatter was running away. Again, she willed the carpet forward. Hatter was fast of course, but the carpet was able to catch up to him with ease. In her excitement, Hare found herself steering the carpet downward with too much intensity. Before she had time to correct herself, she was toppling from the magic carpet; bag, tree, and the Dormouse coming down with her.
A body managed to break her fall, luckily.
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He held on to his hat. It was stretched out as far as he could reach, and his fist was gripping the brim as tightly as he could grip anything, but the hat was unharmed by the crash of things upon him.
It would have been nice to say about the rest of him.
"....owwww," Hatter groaned, under a collection of limbs and materials. He saw the carpet flutter to the ground just in front of his line of sight and panicked for an instant, thinking the rope's big brother was coming after him. But when he tried to move, he found a foot blocking his way. It was a familiar looking foot. And resting on top of the foot was...
"Dormouse?"
The Dormouse squeaked, and fell asleep. Hatter blinked, and poked at the foot. Familiar foot. He turned his head, following it up the ankle, the thigh, knee, calf, hip.... eventually he made it to where there was a face.
"HARE!"
And then there was a mass of limbs, fabrics, and materials (and one hand oh so stubbornly clinging to a felt top hat) as Hatter was trying to roll over onto the body that was draped over his, to get his arms around his dearest friend. It was a very confusing way to find one's self.
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From:
m_hare
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Date: 12/23/2007 01:36:05 |
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Hare was rather dazed, having bumped her head somehow during the fall. She felt a hand grope its way up her leg, but didn't bother investigating, and instead chose to groan.
Definitely not a dream. Dreams did not cause physical pain.
And then she heard her name, being called in a very familiar voice. Managing to pry her eyes open, she found herself in an odd bundle of tea and cups and Dormouse and...
"Hatter!" In her attempt to unite herself with the Hatter, Hare perhaps made things a little more difficult. She was still disoriented, and her head not quite balanced. Stars and bats zoomed about in twinkling circles, blocking most of Hare's vision, but somehow she was able to encircle her own arms about her dearest friend.
Totally oblivious to the crowd of annoyed and amused onlookers, Hare clung to the Hatter like she would cling to a precious tray of tarts or a saucer and tea cup. Perhaps she even clung a bit too tightly, but she wasn't going to let go anytime soon.
Or maybe she was, judging by the angry merchant now ranting and raving above her. Apparently the mad companions were blocking his business. Hare hardly cared.
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Ribs aching, Hatter clung to Hare with much of the same intensity that she was holding onto him. He pulled his hat back on, pressing it firmly to his head, so that his hand would be free to wrap around her.
"Hare! How did you get here? You tamed a carpet?! Where are we?!!" Obviously, there were a few worries on his mind. He pulled away a bit, smacking at the bats and stars buzzing around Hare's head to make them go away.
Someone was shouting at them. Hatter was trying to ignore it, but the man was being quite loud. It seemed to be something about Hare that was upsetting him. Hatter looked curiously at the man, then looked at Hare. "Why should she have to 'cover up'?" he asked, puzzled. "It's too warm out here. And she looks lovely." Well. Mostly lovely, at least. Her hair was in a bit of disarray after the tumble from the carpet. Quickly and carefully, Hatter pushed a few locks of her hair back into proper place, and petted the wavy strands for a moment. "See? Lovely!"
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From:
m_hare
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Date: 12/26/2007 19:26:40 |
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Hater's physical attempt to swat away Hare's mental bats and stars conundrum from her fall seemed to help clear her vision. She blinked a few times, becoming accustomed to the new view.
"I walked..." Hare responded slowly, to Hatter's first question. Then, something quelled within Hare, something she was quite familiar with, but not normally toward the Hatter. Anger? "I walked!" She said again, a bit more forceful and loud. "I walked this entire time! All the way from Wonderland, or Ozland, or wherever it is I live now! All the way from there, to here!" The other two questions were left ignored, for the merchant had not stopped his complaining.
Hare gave the man a bemused look, quite similar to Hatter's, who seemed to understand the man's shouts more than she herself did. Hare's anger was simmered somewhat, however, when Hatter defended her beauty. Hare was not a vain person, er, Hare, but she did enjoy the occasional compliment. What was so unpleasant about Hare's face to this man, that made it necessary to 'cover up'?
Once the Hatter was done primping Hare to her original state of beauty, or close to it, she hoped the neatness of her hair changed the yelling man's mind. No. Still yelling. That was sort of insulting, for Hare's best feature was her hair.
"I have had enough!" Hare declared, disengaging herself from the Hatter's arms and rising. Hare hated when she didn't understand something, and right now she didn't understand the merchant. So it was time to leave.
Dusting off some debris from the elaborate and elongated shirt she now wore(her coat was long gone in the jungle), she picked up her bag and shrub. She nudged the sleeping Dormouse with the toe of her boot, although hoping the Hatter would attend to him. "Come along, Hatter." The statement was snooty, and her tone was directed more toward the merchant. She balanced the shrub on her hip, and extended a free hand to Hatter. Hare was upset, yes, but she had still missed her best friend. And she had so much to discuss with him. Like that Alice. Sticky situation, that was.
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From:
m_hare
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Date: 12/28/2007 00:06:50 |
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When Hare deemed the pair at a comfortable, safe distance from the merchant, she turned to properly look at the Hatter. It had been some time since the two had been together, but everything about him was the same, even if he was perhaps a bit disheveled.
Nonchalantly leading the way through the crowded street, Hare found that the interesting feeling of anger toward Hatter still had not subsided. She wanted to demand of him so many answers, but where to start? The beginning, Hare supposed, would be best. But where was the beginning?
No, the beginning just wouldn't do. It was too distant, too confusing...
"Why did you run away from Alice?" Hare reluctantly blurted out, pulling her hand from Hatter's to clamp it to her mouth. That's not how she had intended to start at all!
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Hatter's jaw dropped open as well, his own hand clamping over his mouth. His other hand grasped the brim of his hat, pulling it low. "You know about Alice?" he asked, although with his hand still over his mouth, it sounded more like "Ooo oowh oo-uht Aaa-eee?"
Oh, difficult, difficulty! Mrs. D, Mrs. I, Mrs. F-F-I, Mrs. C, Mrs. U, Mrs. L-T-Y!
Distraction! He needed a distraction! "Look!" Hatter cried, pointing behind her. "An idiot!"
Then he turned and started running.
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From:
m_hare
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Date: 12/28/2007 12:06:24 |
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Hare had no trouble deciphering Hatter's words, having a lot of experience the past with his strange way of talking.
Narrowing her eyes, she dropped her hand to her hip. "Yes, I know about Al--" But Hatter was pointing to something over her shoulder, and Hare whirled around to look. An idiot? Why was that worth pointing out? Unless the idiot in question was quite extraordinary, but Hare didn't...
Ironically, Hare came face to face with a mirror. In it, she saw Hatter turn and run. He was running away? AGAIN?
Hatter turned as well, dropping her belongings in the process. Oh well, that didn't matter. Perhaps she would find them later. She had found the Hatter, after all. Even though he was escaping.
Hatter was faster than Hare, but she was indeed quick on her feet, and perhaps slightly more nimble than her friend. She made a mad dash after him, sliding out of the way of the innocent pedestrians. At one point she actually had to crawl beneath someone.
"Hatter!" She yelled when she was in distance to actually be heard clearly. "Hatter, you stop this instant!" Doubting her demands would be availed, she managed to leap, her intentions being to grope Hatter around the waist.
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