Summary: Wonderland has the ability to drive the most sensible person insane. But on the other side is a place guaranteed to drive you positively sane. Hatter X OC (Depp version)
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"Wake up! Wake up ya ninny!"
There was an unpleasant wake-up call for Fidget as the little bird boxed her head with his little toy sword, his feathered helmet ruffled by the early-morning chill. She opened her eyes groggily, only to snap them shut as the bird rapped on the tangled mess of hair with the wooden sword again.
"Up! Up! It's time for mornin' call! Rouse those troops ya buffle-brained-"
"I'm up, I'm up!" Fidget protesting, shooing the bird away as it squawked over her head, "Go back to your own damn perch Promethius!" Normally she wouldn't speak in such a tone to her commanding officer, but it was 6:30 a.m. on the dot and she was grumpy. With one hand swatting at the little blue bird, she reached over to her very white bugle with the other, and stuck her head out the window to the barracks. With her usual routine, she tooted out the Revelry, awaking the entire camp. Promethius, swooping out the window with his little wings a-flapping, screeched out.
"Wake up troops! March, march, march!"
"May!"
"No, MARCH!"
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You're probably dead confused. Here's the story.
This is the world of Dnalrednow (pronounced exactly duh-nal-red-now), the land existing on the opposite plane of Wonderland. It's easily accessible through a series of caves that slowly turn you upside-down until Dnalrednow seems right side up when you pop out the other side. Unlike Wonderland, everything is strict order and sense, only two colors and two neutral shades allowed; blue and red, black and white. The realm revolves around these four to a T, everything sharp and in order. Other colors are strictly forbidden, and the wearing, sporting, or use of any other color can result in severe punishment, like four hours of skipping rope on hot coals, or singing extremely boring, extremely unpleasant war songs to the sound of iced tea being stirred for nine hours....or to be forced to sit through the said recitation. Should something fall into a deeper hue, or lighter shade of black or white, or should red seem a little more pink, or blue a little more aqua...it must be carted off at once to receive strict re-coloration at the Correctional Facilities. Strict is as strict does, and the entire realm of Dnalrednow is run on the entirety of sense and rule-following.
Another rule, the oldest of them all, is that visits to "the other side" are even more strictly forbidden. Should one be caught in the attempt, or found to have already been to the other side, they will be immediately executed following a fair, long, exhaustingly boring trial. Once they have been properly beheaded, the blood is cleaned up only once it has turned a slight shade of brown.
In light of this rule, visitors from the other side are not allowed in Dnalrednow either.
The army is the pride of the realm, large, efficient, and composed of the finest, rule-abiding citizens. At exactly 30 seconds after 7 a.m. they are roused by Fidget, the army trumpeter. Why Fidget? Well, after taking a long questionnaire and practical exam on what to pursue in the future, the trumpet lay perfect and able for her use. She didn't mind trumpeting, on the occasion where protocol allowed her some free time she enjoyed playing a more care-free tune. But being awakened by an annoying lieutenant to blow out Revelryin the morning and 30 seconds before meals was repetitive and boring. It chapped her lips and she knew the tune so well she could have done it in her sleep.
There was freedom of choice in uniform colors...they had to have some flexibility in the army after all, and there were different preferences in color. The uniforms were manufactured the same way, but some preferred all white, some all black, some black and white, some blue and red. And so on.
Fidget picked blue and black, a stiff tunic with puffed shoulders, long crisp sleeves, diamond buttons, and trousers, complete with pointed, shiny boots. But she regretted her decision...despite the orderliness of the suit, she looked like a bruise. But once you picked your colors, there was to be no going back, no complaining, and no switching. You got what you got. So now Fidget was stuck with twenty identical black and blue suits (it paid to be prepared you know), and would be stuck with those colors until she retired from the army. Unfortunately, retirement papers took five years to fill out, and two extra years to be mailed, read, and approved by the proper authorities.
She brushed out her hair, a thick mess of blue, into equal parts, smoothing it down with gel so that Promethius would have fewer excuses to criticize her appearance. He was a small blue-bird, but because he kept his birdhouse in symmetrical order, had his feathers well groomed, and followed orders right down to the period, he rose to lieutenant in the army. You wouldn't think there was a more rule-abiding officer in the world, but there was. That's how they organized things.
The King was orderly and rule-abiding to the last, despite his rare appearances among his followers.
Fidget was fortunate not to be joining the soldiers in their perfect routine. She'd surely fall out of line, or cause the blue in her tunic to grow a slightly darker blue with sweat, or make some mistake. There were no mistakes with the trumpet because it was so easy. It was doing more than that, like filing papers, marching to the Revelry, and doing orderly things that was the trouble. She managed it, but not without falling into bed at the end of the day out of sheer exhaustion. But now that she had the time, she dangled her arms and head out of the attic in the tower of the main building, her sleeping quarters, and listened to Promethius ramble on to the attention of his awe-struck troops.
"Listen up collection of male and female troops!" he blared on in his chirpy voice, "Today marks the 100th anniversary of this outpost's construction! After some tedious paper work, the heads of our corporation have decided to have a celebratory parade, with us marching at the head! We are to arrive exactly one hour following dinner to the captial square for our initial march! Do I make myself clear?"
"Sir yes sir!" chorused the troops. Incredible. They even blinked in unison.
They marched off in single file as Fidget sighed. If her hair didn't have a curl pop up, maybe she'd survive the breakfast call.
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"Curious!"
The Mad Hatter, on the other side in Wonderland, peeked into a large cave, the mouth of it wide and gaping. It had a perfectly square tunnel, leading off where, who knows. The Hatter should have known better than to go snooping about in dark holes, you'd think he'd have learned that much from Alice, but it was a curiosity and the Hatter was curious about it, so in he went.
The cave was...interesting. Stairs that seemed to go against natural gravity and dimension* were piled every where, some on the ceiling going one way, some on the ground leading another way to the ceiling to go another way to the side. Normally, one wouldn't think they would need the spare dimensions, but it was interesting, so interesting that the Hatter went climbing down and up each one, keeping a tight grip on the brim of his hat as he found himself upside down on the ceiling...or maybe it was right side up on the floor. He walked around in delight, until he found himself back the entrance. It looked a tad bit queer now...the sides of the wall still perfectly square, but in an exact shade of black on one side, and an exact shade of white on the other. It was so sharp and it made the Hatter's eyes ache just to look at it. He would have proceeded further, but two guards (one in an exact shade of blue, the other and exact shade of red) leaped out at the entrance.
"Halt!" they cried in unison. The Hatter stopped quite suddenly at their appearance.
"No one from the other side may pass!" said the blue one.
"Return to your realm at once!" said the red one.
"My realm?" the Hatter repeated curiously, "But then which realm is this one?"
"This is the land of Dnalrednow!" said the Blue. "And according to the first law, second clause, fourth paragraph of the official rulebook of Dnalrednow, no one from the other side is allowed entry!"
"Exactly so!" said the Red, "If you attempt to proceed, we shall be forced to go to our superiors for your lengthy trial, lengthier summary of the trial, and the rather short verdict, and afterward, immediate execution via beheading!"
"In any case," the Blue said, looking discerningly over the Hatter's attire, "You are not following strict colorization codes." The Hatter twitched. Just what was wrong with his clothes?
"You do not have exact shades of either, black, white, red, or blue!" the Red said, pointing at the hat, "You wouldn't be able to take four steps without being noticed!"
The Hatter stopped all movement. This wasn't Wonderland. This must be the opposite. No one else would be so extremely, uncomfortably strict. With a easy-going, relaxing smile, the Hatter took a single step onto the black and white area of the tunnel.
"Perhaps if we just talked this over.." he started persuasively, but was cut off by a yelp from the soldiers.
"The floor! The floor!" howled the Blue in agony
"It's...it's speckled!" the Red wailed in equal torment. They looked and pointed at the Hatter.
"You had dirt on your shoes villain!" they roared in unison. They picked up some brooms in stiff white on the side, "Now there's brown where there's supposed to be only black and white! We've got to have it cleaned immediately!"
They hurried over to the dirtied spot, and fell into such a frenzy of cleaning and scrubbing that they did not notice the Hatter slipping past and walking nonchalantly into Dnalrednow...leaving a scruffy trail of dirt for them to clean up.
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"Hold it right there Fidget!"
Fidget froze in mid-step. What now? Her hair hadn't untangled from it's stiff helmet of gel, and the short bob was curled in exact, equal halves on the sides of her head. She'd checked the mirror repeatedly. Her clothes hadn't had the slightest wrinkle. What was Promethius yelling about now?
Grudgingly, she turned around, snapping her heels together and saluting with a heavy sigh, "Yes sir?"
"You must go to the Correctional Facilities at once!" he said, aflutter with panic and pointing a wing at her imperiously.
"What for?" she asked, "Sir?" she added quickly.
"Your hair!" he said with disgust, already writing out a form of paper, "Look at the roots! Look!"
She couldn't deny a direct order, so pulling out her little hand mirror, she looked. Sure enough, despite the equal sides, she'd overlooked the roots...which were receding back to a darker hue of blue. Navy blue. It wasn't exactly blue so that meant-
"Get moving!" Promethius trilled, slapping the sticky end of the Correctional Form onto her chest. These forms were carried by law-enforcement so that if someone were to receive an out-of-color problem, they would receive immediate attention. Disregard to these forms, or even worse, throwing them away, was received with a trial and the eventual punishment of scrubbing the floors of the Correctional Center...and those floors could get down-right filthy. With another salute she trudged off. She'd miss the parade, but there wasn't much to miss. It was like every parade before it, every day repeating itself over and over. People repeated themselves to protect themselves from change. Change meant anarchy, rebellion, destruction. The build-up of the realm had taken over a thousand years. The world was perfect. But it stayed a single frame of time frozen...and that's just how everyone else liked it. Everyone else, save for Fidget. What was worth the woes of one measly trumpeter anyway?
Welcome to Dnalrednow. Enjoy your time, it won't move.
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*Think of Escher's painting of stairs