The gloves on his hands were white. The jacket on his shoulders, checkered and crisp. But he felt nothing, no joy at his neat appearance, no relief at the organization behind the gingham checkered lines of his walls. He felt as though time, the clock-tick of his heart was ticking on without purpose, without momentum. The monotony of bullets and paperwork was getting boring. His role in Heart Country as Prime Minister was growing heavy with the nothing burden he shouldered. The faceless were losing the shooting gallery appeal they once held. Everything was meaningless.
"White, we find your sulk too depressing. We command you to end this emotion." Vivaldi, the Queen of Heartland did not bother to stand and address the rabbit man. She felt no motivation to do so because the rabbit's mood had yet to anger her and now only tested her annoyance.
"Then find me a task to do, or order my execution and watch me un-staff this castle, leaving that excuse for a King to attend to the work left incomplete." Peter White spoke the words clinically without anger, only apathy. "Maybe his struggling incompetence and your failing ability would shift my mood." He began lightly toying with the chain of his watch, briefly considering shooting at the king standing fearfully against the queen's throne. The king was a pitiful role holder. Another replacement would be far better suited to his role, and in all honesty less likely to voice complaints against White's work load that tended to end up pointedly done by the often harangued king.
"You already have work that we have assigned. You have just chosen to ignore us." Vivaldi's violet black ringlets bounced lightly against her neck and her red lips twitched in annoyance. She understood Her Prime Minister was growing bored with his role. They all were. It seemed pointless to play this game when it didn't matter who won. The game always restarted, the role holders changed, again and again. Replaceable; it was what they were and it was a depressing thought.
White growled out a punctuated insult illustrating his doubts of the queen's hygiene as well as a blatant refusal. He was not doing mindless paperwork. He simply was not going to further belittle his replaceable existence with monotony. "I won't do it. You can threaten my head all you like, I will not do it." His pocket watch had transformed into a gun and was fixed upon the cowering king. If only that fool had the sense not to snitch. "Find another task, or don't bother to ask."
The Queen of Hearts at first started the beginning of what would have been another fire fight, but instead a better opportunity presented itself. This was a chance to change the game, make things more exciting again. A fresh start. The role holders from many previous games ago had started this practice but discontinued it due to the unfortunate results that originated. 'But we are nothing like those bumbling beginner roles, we doubt such a susceptible fate will be ours.' Vivaldi's thoughts were turned to her plan as petulantly as a child turned towards a new toy; without consideration or consequence.
"Put your gun away. You are making us cross." Vivaldi pointed her scepter down at the rabbit minister in warning. She was not having him kill a king that still had his uses.
To Peter White's mild shock the queen was not losing her temper and demanding his head, instead she was being far too tame. Even a scepter pointed at his head was a light-hearted gesture in comparison to previous assaults. Their last fight had disposed of nearly half the staff. Julius Monrey, the clockmaker responsible for fixing their clock-hearts, had been livid. As punishment he took to his work at a snail's pace, leaving White responsible for castle cleanliness. It had been surprisingly more fulfilling than paper pushing. At least when disinfecting an area he could feel safety in his germ-less environment rather than annoyance at the way his gloves occasionally caught on his papers.
"Yes, we have decided to give you another task, but only because we too are growing tired of the same." The Queen's lips puckered into a brief almost smile before returning to their thin-lipped resting place. "We order you to introduce a new player to this game."
The order brought silence into the castle. Peter White smirked with a lethal coldness. "Shall I start by taking the king's heart?" He fired experimentally near the king's head knowing Vivaldi's statement had no such implication, yet still a tattling king was a dying thing.
With that Vivaldi's temper ran short. Her voice screamed out orders for execution. Her card soldiers, dressed in red heart uniform surged forward brandishing their weapons. It was of course a pointless venture, for Peter White quickly shot the small force dead showing no more consideration than a hateful look and bored countenance. After the third waves decimation it grew pointless for Vivaldi to continue her tantrum. "Enough. Orders for your execution bore us. End this skirmish now." Vivaldi's voice carried to White as he pressed his foot into the neck of a five-card soldier before lifting it and shooting into the soldier's shoulder.
"Don't ever let me ever catch your dirty germs on my shoes again. It is an unclean and unpleasant occurrence." Peter's voice was clinical as he assessed his black shoes for scuff marks and filth.
The card almost felt it apt to point out that it had been White's foot on his neck not the other way around, but the soldier felt that it would be lost on the cold prime minister. The card reasoned a quick silent flight was best for survivals sake and fled the corridor.
Vivaldi frowned as White began ordering a nearby maid to return with fresh shoes. Sometimes the queen wondered how her Prime Minister of Heartland accomplished any tasks with the obstacles created by his germ antipathy. "Focus rabbit. We order you to bring a new outsider player into this boring game."
"Oh is that all?" The White Rabbit returned his gun to its original clock form. The maid had returned with his new clean shoes and the rabbit was too curious by the queen's order to be irritated at the length of time he had spent standing in card-germ dirtied shoes. He hurriedly tossed his old shoes away at the awaiting maid's face and stepped into the newly un-scuffed leather shoes.
"Vivaldi I don't think that is best. Other role-holders before you have tried with poor resulting outcomes." The king's forehead creased in worry. The practice of bringing outsiders into the realm of Wonderland had never been strictly forbidden, but it still remained as a great taboo. The king had seen what happened to the earlier role holders who had become driven into deep passions by outsiders. The results were always the same: obsession, rejection, depression. It was a cyclic turbulence of devastation.
"Do not dare to presume to know what is best. Besides those role holders failed because they chose poorly. We choose our foreigner with care." Her voice rang with the settlement of a mountain. Her king had no hope to persuade a tyrant.
Her attention shifted away from her Buffoon-King to her winter rabbit. "Peter White you are to bring us an outsider no older than eight." For once her rabbit did not argue or mumble an outright refusal, instead he simply shifted his glasses closer to his nose and nodded.
"But Viv-" The king forced out a strangled cry. To invite an outsider was to invite misery and the clock-break of love.
Vivaldi would hear no more from rabbit or king on the subject. They needed change so they would receive it. "We know that it is natural to fall in love with an outsider. But by choosing one so young we can escape loving them too much."
The queen did not worry about love. Love had many forms and the younger the recipient the purer the state became. Besides Wonderland was too dangerous a place for outsider children to grow up within. 'Loving them will only obligate us to return them home.' That was the only thought of precaution the queen gave to his majesty's concerns.
"I doubt I will come to love any outsider I bring here. But out of boredom's sake I will make haste. This game needs to change its pace." White was moving away from the queen leaving behind only the echo of his voice. Upon his exit from the mile high stone walls of Heart Castle he wondered what an outsider would think of this world. This world to him seemed boring and unchanging but to an outsider's perspective it might seem overwhelming. A child that had no replacement that was what this outsider would be. He felt a twinge of jealousy filter out from his clock. He truly wished he would hold such a role in this world of meaningless beings. His checkered jacket blew softly in the Wonderland air as he made his way to the hole that bridged between worlds of a saner sort.