So…I watched the Heart no Kuni movie on Youtube a while ago. What exactly happened afterwards, when Blood and Elliot broke the vial?
(The characters do not belong to me. They belong to Quinrose in this format.)
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There was no way she could've known that this would happen. It wasn't her fault, she wanted to go home, but the choice had been, even if not by her. They had no right, it wasn't fair, and if Joker was to be believed, it had been against the rules of the ever horrific Game that made this absurd world go round. Alice knew the moment it had happened. The second that Elliot had pulled the trigger of that gun, she'd realized. She hadn't lost the vial. It had been stolen.
The selfishness of the Mad Hatter could not be rivaled. He wanted her to remain in the Wonderworld, and he'd done everything possible to ensure it happened, but he would face no repercussions for it. Instead, the March Hare would endure the consequences. Technically, Blood hadn't been the one to break the vial. However, once the full story got out there, it was arguable that Elliot's mind had been tampered with. He didn't remember anything, and the dream walkers Nightmare and Prison Warden had verified it. The blame was placed on no one, and Alice was invariably trapped in this place that became darker and darker the longer she looked at it.
Once again, the Outsider had known the moment the vial had been destroyed. She could feel it in her gut that something was incredibly wrong. She ran to Blood's office, as that was the direction her instincts demanded she go, and the moment she burst through the door, she saw. She saw the crystalline droplets stream down the sides of the desk. She saw the prisms from the chips of broken glass, and she watched as the heart-shaped stopper dropped to the carpeted floor.
She had screamed, shocking the two men. She'd shouted and screeched that Blood would never be forgiven. He had trapped her in Wonderland, and he would pay dearly. Because of him she would never see her family and loved ones again. Once she'd tired herself out, she'd dashed to her room and locked the door, refusing to come out or to let anyone in. Even the servants were subjected to her wrath.
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That night, when everyone was asleep but her, she looked in the mirror. She looked in it for hours, trying to remember who she was, and where she came from. She recalled faces, but only one had a name, Lorina. Where the rest of her memory was slowly depreciating she could remember her sister, as Lorina Liddell had been the only person anchoring Alice to her own dimension. Alice was drowning in her thoughts. She would never see Lorina again. Her family, her home, her everything was completely lost, never to be regained, and she could barely remember it. As she mused over the fate that had been decided for her, the law keeper of Wonderland, Joker, had appeared in the looking glass. She noted that this time, it was not the Jester, but rather the Warden. For the first time she felt scared, not because the warden himself was a source of fear for her, but because of the words he was using. He was not calling her names or yelling profanities, but rather speaking gently, as if not to frighten her. Petrified, she listened to him explain the rules of the Game. He told her that once the Foreigner had decided to remain in Wonderland – or in her case trapped – he or she had to become more attached to it. She had to become a Role Holder.
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Alice had many, many questions to which the Warden answered patiently. She asked what role she'd be assigned, and he shrugged, merely saying that she would take on one of the previously "dropped" roles. The universe decided these things, so he did not know. She asked if the transition would hurt. He said maybe. She asked if she'd remember anything of the place she grew up in. He did not answer.
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When Joker vanished, Alice was hit by blinding pain. Well, he did say it could hurt. She felt as though her body was being ripped apart, muscle by muscle, tendon by tendon, and then reconstructed. When it was over, Alice noticed the blood. Her nails had grown, and done so too fast. Her nail bed was bleeding and the pain was dull through her panic. She felt something in her hair, and when she reached up to feel it, it almost felt like some sort of spiked crown. Her back felt a lot heavier too. Then she looked in the mirror, and promptly screamed.
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When the residents of Hatter mansion woke that morning, they noticed something different. The house seemed…darker. As if some great evil had been unleashed in the middle of the night, and then promptly retracted the moment they woke up. The Role Holders had a more acute sense of the situation. They detected fear, despair, and unbridled rage. When Blood personally went to go check on Alice, he found her door slightly ajar. When he pushed it open, he was blasted by cold air. He saw that the window was nothing more than a few jagged pieces of glass in a frame. Then he noticed the ripped wallpaper, the smashed mirror, bloodied carpet, and ragged drapes, then a name – rather, a title – popped into his head. He stepped carefully away from the room, and told the servants to clean it up. The Hatter silently smiled at the fate he'd condemned his now unrequited love to.
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Three Months Later
Alice endured the cold as if it was nothing. Ever since she took her role, the temperature seemed to have little to no effect on her. She couldn't feel the bitter wintery winds, nor could she feel the blistering summer heat. She touched the silver circlet on her head, recalling the emotions of that day. First she'd torn up her room, and then demolished the window in a childish fit. Afterwards, she made her way to the mountains behind the Amusement Park, and three months later, she was living in a wooden cabin that she'd built herself. So far, no one had come to seek her out, but then, she was pretty sure that not even Ace could get lost out here. She smirked to herself, wondering what he'd think of her now. The universe had been kind – at least as kind as it could be, and allowed her to keep her previous title of Foreigner as well. She wondered what the rebellious knight would think of a role holder who retained a heartbeat.
Unwilling to leave her chair, she curled her talon adorned fingers around her cup and sipped her tea, using her tail to throw another log into the fireplace. She didn't actually need the fire, but it reminded her of a time when things were far simpler for her, a time before her role, a time when she was not a dragon, a time when she was not the Jabberwocky.
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I wrote this in, like, twenty minutes. R&R! :3
-Static