Hello! I know, I know, it's not an update, but An Old Role is going to get kinda dark kinda soon and I wanted to write something cute before I got on with it. Anyways, if you could just put a penny in the box and leave a review, it will not go unappreciated!

-Static

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The faceless child watched the squabble curiously. Unlike his sister, he somewhat lacked a self-preservation instinct, and so got as close to the spectacle as possible. One stray bullet, and he'd be done for. He looked on, interested, as the two gangs fought. Technically, this was the Country of Hearts, but the two factions were insisting it was a part of "their turf". Since when is the Queen's territory a part of anyone's "turf"? He wasn't even sure he'd heard the word before. Suddenly, it got quiet, and the group on the right end of the street backed up a little.

"What's going on here?" A man's voice asked innocently enough, but even the young boy could sense the undercurrent of malice. His gaze whipped to the left, and he saw a blond man adorning a white suit and the most ridiculous hat he'd ever seen. It was a foot taller than a normal hat and had flowers and ribbons, flowers and ribbons, circling the base of the whole thing. Had it not been for the fact that the man had a set of ice-blue eyes and held himself with an authoritative air, the boy might have been tempted to burst out of the bush and say something scathing. His mother was always telling him to manage his mean streak. However, this was a Role-Holder, and even the youngest and stupidest of children knew to tread carefully with the Role-Holders.

As soon as the man spoke, every single member of the other group, save one, stepped back again. The remaining individual gulped, and moved to join his companions, but was pushed forward. The others wanted him to speak for them. Well this guy's dead. The boy thought to himself nonchalantly. As he watched, the Role-Holder approached, his ruby-topped cane clicking threateningly on the cobblestones, and met the other gangs representative head-on. The child continued watching from his hiding place in the bushes. Such spectacles were rare, and far more intriguing than the events when the Queen paraded herself down the road for all to see. Come to think of it, his sister liked attention too. Women were vain creatures, vain indeed.

The boy's train of thought was interrupted when the Role-Holder spoke again. He repeated the initial question, and his faceless opponent took a deep breath, and looked the newcomer in the eye.

"You want to know what's going on here, Hatter?" He stated as defiantly as he could, through a shaking voice. Moron, the child thought to himself, Even I can see you're scared. Pull yourself together man. And judging from the look on the Role-Holder's face, his thoughts must have been quite similar. That was when it occurred to the boy. The man had called the Role-Holder Hatter. A string of swear words went through the boys mind, the freaking head of the Mafia was standing right in front of his house, facing down an unorganized gang. He needed get out, he needed to warn Mother and Father and Vi-

BAM!

The Mad Hatter had shifted his cane into a gun, and blasted the mans brains out. This in itself did not alarm the little boy. This kind of thing happened all the time. Just yesterday the neighbor had been replaced, gunned down by the Queen's guards. The boy had seen it all, and hadn't even cringed. Even his older sister had been rather unimpressed. No, the thing that upset the boy, was that as soon as the gun had lowered, and the rival group had run away shrieking that the Hatter had killed Brian, the Hatter rested his gaze on the bush. The very bush that the boy was hiding in.

"You can come out now, young man." The Role-Holder called. The child weighed his options. Sure, he could run back into the house, but that could lead the Mafia's attention to his family. He could pretend he wasn't there, but he was fairly certain that the leader of the Mafia would not fall for such a farce. He sighed, and crawled out from under the shrub, twigs and leaves getting caught in his unruly black hair. He walked up to the man, his spine rigid, and his face carefully neutral. The Hatter stared him down for a minute, and softly laughed to himself.

"See that mates?" He yelled out to his faceless followers, "This child facing me right now is far more composed than any of those buffoons we just chased away." Still, the boy did not react, and waited for the Mafia Boss to finish laughing and look back down at him. "So, how much of that did you see?" The man asked, deceptively kind,

"All of it." The boy answered unflinchingly. The Hatter raised an eyebrow at the ten-year-old in front of him,

"...I can't decide if you're brave or stupid. Why would you admit that? Surely you know who I am."

"Yeah," the boy said, "You have a point, but I'm just a kid. I pose no threat to you, nor would it be likely that anyone would believe me if I told them you called a part of the Queen's territory your 'turf'. Also, you're in charge of the Mafia. I'm pretty sure you can tell when people are lying to you, so trying to bluff my way out this would probably be pointless." Needless to say, the Hatter was quite entertained as the boy reasoned his way through the explanation,

"You're a sharp kid, I'll give you that." The Hatter stated, chuckling, "Tell you what, I'll let this slip. However, you have to do me a favor." The boy listened nervously. What would the Mafia want from a kid like him? "I've noticed people looking out from the windows. When they swarm you with questions, tell them it wasn't me, would ya? It was just a faceless playing a stupid prank." And with that, the man winked and started to turn away, but then,

"Wait," the child stopped him. A memory had flashed through his head, and suddenly, he absolutely had to know the answer to a question.

"What?" The Boss had turned, and given the child a curious look.

"What's it like, being like you?" Clearly, the Hatter was confused,

"You mean like leading the Mafia?" The boy shook his head, before looking around to ensure no one would hear, and then he continued in a quieter voice.

"No, like, being a Role-Holder. I met the Dame of Hearts at last year's parade, and I asked her the exact same question," The boy explained, "She told me that it was the worst thing that had ever happened to her." The Hatter noted that the boy's voice sounded strained, like he was trying to recall the woman's exact words, "That she knew the Rules of the Game so much more than anyone should ever know them, and that the day she woke up with a face was the day she realized how meaningless it all is." The boy finished, "Is that all true? Is it really that horrible?" In all the time that this man had been The Hatter, he had never been confronted with one such question before. To be honest, he'd never actually thought much about his own transition from faceless to Role-Holder. He mulled over the boy's words a moment, and knelt down so that the boy didn't have to crane his neck to look up at him.

"Each Role is different, as is each faceless who takes a role when a Role-Holder dies." He'd started slowly, "As for me, it's never been something I dwelled on, but I can tell you this. The day I woke up with a face, that was the day my whole life changed. Suddenly I had a purpose, a part to play in this world, and at first it feels good, but as the time goes on you realize that it's really not that different from being a faceless. At least that's how it was for me. I have a few more responsibilities than I did before, but honestly?" the Hatter continued, "Other than the daily twenty pounds of paperwork and running my territory, it's not that perturbing. The Dame is correct when she says that we are...aware of more things than we would like, 'ignorance is bliss' and all that, but ultimately it's not as bad as she makes it out to be." The man smiled almost kindly. "While being a Role-Holder is not something I myself would have aspired to, it's not the end of the world. If you ask me, the Dame is a dramatic woman who knows nothing of true horror." He chuckled darkly,

"True horror...?" The boy trailed off as the Hatter straightened.

"Being the Mafia Boss, I've done some pretty terrible things. The Dame? Not so much. Now, young man, I bid you good day, and don't forget the favor I've asked." The boy swore he wouldn't, and watched as the Mafioso disappeared into the trees, a rabbit-eared woman with a colorful scarf following faithfully behind, and then the faceless under his command. The boy was thinking over his words when,

"Blood!" A frantic, female voice wailed, "Blood, you get back in the house this instant!" Great, his mother was panicking. Meaning nothing good would come of the upcoming conversation. "What are you doing talking to the Mad Hatter?! That man is insane!" She exclaimed, her blond curls bouncing as she ran to him in the street. Blood was about to defend himself, when he remembered. No one was supposed to know that it had been the Mafia on the streets.

"That wasn't the Mad Hatter mum," He'd said as she drug him in the house and up to the second floor, "I asked him if that's who he was, but when he looked at me he was just a faceless. Didn't you see him hiding under the hat?" The boy had responded. His mother looked doubtful, then irate, then relieved.

"So it was just some hooligan playing a prank?" She growled, and Blood nodded convincingly. She sighed, and called out to his father.

"Darren! It's alright, it wasn't actually the Hatter." And she stomped down the stairs to talk out her frustrations to her husband, and Blood was left in peace, relieved that his excuse had worked. Then his sister sidled up to him,

"Alright, so I know that was complete poppycock." She said, seeing through the lie in the manner that all siblings could, "What were you doing talking to the head of the Mafia?" She didn't sound reprimanding, or even contemptuous. However in her voice was an undertone that made him bristle.

"You sound as though you're questioning my sanity." Blood had snarled, attempting to sound threatening. Vivaldi merely laughed, her baby brother was the most unintimidating person in all of Wonderland. First off, she was taller than him, and then he was only ten, and he couldn't even lift the axe their father used to chop wood. No, he was not terrifying in the least, no matter how hard he tried. It was really quite adorable. She ruffled his hair, and sat on the windowsill, riling his annoyance even more.

"No, simply wondering why the most dangerous man in Wonderland would want to talk to a pipsqueak like you." She stated cheerfully. "So what were you talking about?" Her inquisitive stare redirected to the blank expanse of her brother's face. Blood shrugged,

"I asked him a question, he answered, and then he told me to tell everyone he was a faceless." Vivaldi snorted in a rather unladylike manner,

"What was the question?" she asked impatiently. For a moment, Blood simply glared at his sister, who he could sense was glaring back. It went that way for a moment or two before he sighed,

"I asked what it was like to be a Role-Holder." Vivaldi tilted her head,

"Why? It's not like you'd want to be one of those psychopaths...right?" her voice held an edge of warning. If Blood had possessed a set of visible eyes, he'd have rolled them at her.

"Of course not! I was just curious!" his sister huffed,

"Well you wouldn't want to be one, especially not one like him." And she proceeded to tell him all about why it would be the worst thing in the world to become a Role-Holder. While Blood nodded and hummed his agreements with what his sister was saying, he actually wasn't paying attention. Instead he mulled over the idea of whether or not it would be bad to be a Role-Holder, and as his sister was ranting on about how unnecessary torture was - if you're going to kill someone, kill them and stop wasting time - he was thinking over the pros and cons, and ultimately, he decided he wouldn't want to be the Mad Hatter.

The paperwork would be boring, and the outings would be horrifically tiring. He'd have to deal with people like the Queen and the Clockmaker, and it would be more than a little taxing to manage an entire territory, yet it was not any of these reasons that had resolved the issue.

Blood thought over the mans appearance, and eventually those thoughts centered on his head.

"No," Blood stated, quieting his sister, "I don't think I'd want to be like the Mad Hatter. His top hat is absolutely obnoxious." And with a decisive nod of his head, he went to sneak some snacks from the kitchen. Vivaldi simply stared at the spot where her brother previously stood. All the reasons to not be a Role-Holder, and that was the one he chose? Yes, she thought, He's definitely daft.

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So...was that good? Just a thought that had planted itself in my brain: What would child Blood think of becoming the Mad Hatter? Personally, I think this is the conclusion he'd have come to. R&R! Please! I live for reviews! xD

-Static