TODAY IS THE LAST DAY TO VOTE IN THE POLL! REVIEW PLZ? (My grammar-nazi side feels so betrayed.) Also: I've been rereading this fic and I'm finding so many errors. As in, "Oh #$% everyone must think I'm an idiot not to have noticed this," errors. I've been thinking about asking someone to be a beta reader for this series because I'm just missing so many things when I'm proofreading. On the flipside of that, my updates might not be as frequent - which is something I know you guys really like - however, trade in super-speedy updates, for slightly less speedy updates with infinitely better quality writing. I'm probably going to ask my friend to do it, but if she doesn't have the time, then I'll ask if any of you would like to volunteer for this position. :3
-Static
/*\
Nightmare had lost. All those years preparing for this moment, and he had lost that game of Blackjack. He looked down at the cards, bewildered. How had this happened? One mistake. He'd gone for the Queen, thinking it was a Jack. The table broke back into fragments, and retreated to the walls of mirror pieces. When Nightmare and Joker stood up, the same happened for the chairs, and the demon listened to Joker's conditions for his assistance.
Thankfully his plan didn't actually harm Alice, at least not much. Nightmare had been going to reseal the memory of Bedlam, he was going to stuff it away into the back of Alice's consciousness, but Joker? He wanted Alice to remember.
"Unless Alice can learn to deal with this series of memories, we will always be in danger of the Dragon using it against her." The Warden had explained, "She needs to know in full what her life was. Things have changed, she's no longer just the Foreigner. Though it might not be explicitly against the rules, you can't just erase whatever memories you like. Not anymore."
"Then what do you propose to do?" The demon had responded,
"Instead of repressing the memory," the Jester had answered, "We want to intervene. The Jabberwocky is altering it, re-imagining it, so it appears as something far worse than what actually happened. If we can get to that event just as that alteration is happening, we can jump in, and influence it ourselves." Nightmare's eye narrowed,
"What exactly does the Dragon intend to do?"
/*\
Alice had been dozing after her latest dose of laudanum when she heard the lock to her cell turn over. In her drugged up state, she wasn't concerned. She knew that Doctor Williams was the only person who had access to her. There was only one key, and he had it. She figured that he was coming to check on her before he left for home. She had rolled over in her bed and sat up, stretching her arms.
True to his promise, the doctor had convinced his superiors that it was safe to remove the straitjacket. While she couldn't leave, not by any means, she could safely walk around her cell, though every surface was padded, which unnerved her greatly. It also wasn't very warm, she noticed, shivering, glaring up at the one window. No glass, just bars, letting the cold night air chill her to the bone. She sat up in her cot to greet the doctor when she realized.
This was not Doctor Williams.
The man pushed the door closed behind him, and dangled the keys in front of her triumphantly, as if to say, Look at that, your freedom, so close, and yet so far away.
"Hello miss." He stated, his voice carrying a slimy undercurrent that repulsed her to no end, "I'm Doctor Harris, the physician. You're due for an appointment." And the way he said those words, so humorously, so cruel, she knew her prayers had not been answered.
Soon, she thought to herself, horrified, My scream will join theirs. And as the man closed in on her, all she could hear were the pitiful and terrified wails of the other occupants of the asylum.
/*\
Nightmare and Joker raced to the forefront of Alice's mind. With three more individuals sifting through her memories, and now knowing what the dragon intended to do, Nightmare did his best to force the irrelevant visions to end as fast as possible.
As he sprinted down several rooms in the maze, he could barely focus on anything other than what Joker had told him.
While in Bedlam, the Jester had said, Only Doctor Williams was supposed to have the key to her room.
However, The Warden had continued, One of the less virtuous doctors had set his sights on her, and managed to get a hold of that key. Nightmare had started to feel a mite irritated,
You behave as though I don't know that, he'd snarled, I'M the one who sealed away her memories, remember? The Warden had rolled his eye, his golden eye-patch glimmering in the silver light.
Have you not been listening to a single word we've been saying, dumb#$%? Her Role is going to change it!
And in the worst way possible. The Jester had tacked on afterwards. In that moment, the demon realized just how dire the situation was. He recalled the memory perfectly. That man had intended to hurt her, and before he could, Alice's doctor had bolted into the room, appalled, and gotten the doctor fired for misconduct the next day.
In the revised memory, the Jabberwocky was going to erase Doctor Williams, and let the more horrific alternative play out, and Alice would be convinced it was real.
/*\
Julius had led Alice to safer topics of discussion. It was just the two of them, as Nightmare had been moved to the bedroom next door when she started screaming in her sleep again. Now that she was awake, back in Wonderland, she seemed almost disconcerted. He'd conversed with her on things strictly avoiding her family or the other world. After what those people had said to him...He didn't think he'd be able to keep his composure, where they were concerned.
He sat on the edge of her bed, and she listened to him talk, a smile almost constantly adorning her face. He couldn't help but note the minute differences from now, and before. She no longer wore her hair ribbon. Granted she'd been in bed, but now a silver crown sat on the damaged but functional nightstand, instead of the cloth strip. Her hair had somewhat paled in color. Not a lot, but just enough that it wasn't really brown anymore, and it had lengthened just a bit. Her eyes, always wide, had more patterns to her iris, making them seem deeper and mysterious. As for her smile, that was where the most change took place.
She had always been happy, that didn't change, but now, as she held herself in a more regal manner, did not allow her temper to flare, and got better at keeping her nose out of everyone's business, her energy seemed calmer. Her emotions were more even, and though her smile was still just as wide and bright as it had ever been, the lengthened incisors reminded him that, even though she was still the same (he saw the black and white stockings on her feet), she was also quite different. A paradox that he had never seen repeated in another Role-Holder.
He made each and every one of these observations as he spoke, and once he was finished with his thinking, he realized that they were bantering. Something they hadn't done since she lived in the Clock Tower. She giggled at him,
"I can see why you'd say that, but no! My cabin is nice, and so I will keep it." She stated decisively,
"But it's so impractical." He'd answered, "It's so small, barely one other person fits in your office. What do you do then?"
"Hmm? No I don't use my house for business meetings," She said this as though it should be obvious. "I use the Tower for that, but everything else? I stay in my cabin." He shook his head,
"You don't even have hot water in there, and don't say that's a lie," He'd raised his hand when she opened her mouth to protest, "When you had me over for coffee that month ago, I tried the faucet. I let it run for almost five minutes, and it was still freezing. Even for you it must feel cold, and I know how you like hot baths." She merely raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms,
"And how, exactly, would you know that?" He couldn't stop the pink tint in his cheeks, understanding immediately what she was insinuating, but his answer remained composed as he raised an eyebrow back,
"Because you always ran out the hot water from the heater. You forget, I paid your expenses as well." She opened her mouth to protest when a timid knock on the door interrupted their silly argument. A maid poked her head in,
"Um, hello, we brought food for Miss Alice?"
After a couple of servants had brought in a new table and two chairs, as Alice had completely decimated the other pieces of furniture, the maid had set a bowl of soup on the table, with a piece of bread on a plate, and a glass of water sitting on a coaster. Alice thanked the maid, and with some assistance from Julius, made her way into the chair.
"Dear God," She groaned, trying to sit straight, "Who knew getting shot would be so painful?"
"I've been shot my fair share of times." Julius had said, perfectly serious, "It's really not that bad, you're just being a baby." He finished his statement by leaning back in the opposite chair, almost smugly. Alice simply looked at him for a moment, a little disbelieving. Was he...teasing her? Upon asking the question, he almost appeared taken aback, but then hid under his hair and told her to eat her soup. Alice stifled her laugh, and took the spoon, but then realized her hand was a little shaky. She set it down, flexed the muscles in her fingers, and tried again. This time the spoon stayed still, but after a few sips of broth, started shaking again.
The Clockmaker could almost taste the confusion and irritation radiating from his companion.
"You haven't moved for days." He stated softly, "Aside from your...ahem, episodes," his voice took a discomforted quality, "Your muscles are probably a little stiff. Just give it some time and patience." And slowly, she made her way through the soup and bread, albeit, Julius did have to put out a few small fires.
/*\
Ace was currently sitting at a bar, downing absinthe and whiskey shots, and holding an ice-filled rag to his face. He'd never realized that Alice could hit so hard. As he asked the bartender for a tenth shot, the faceless raised an eyebrow and lightly protested.
"You sure? I've seen people die on these things." Ace debated, he took the ice off and gingerly touched the purple bruise blemishing his face. Hissing, he reapplied the freezing pain-reliever.
"Yeah, I'm sure." He said, the bartender laughed and passed him another shot glass filled with liquid.
"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." Ace mumbled something in response, but wasn't really paying attention. He swallowed the alcohol, and set the glass down. He gazed up at the array of bottles and spigots of the business for several moments before covertly looking around the bar. This was a seedy place, not nearly as nice as the tavern in town, but he didn't want to be easily found. He was in no mood to deal with enemies today, so he was here.
The lighting was dark, heavy purple drapes cast over each and every window, and the faint smell of opium permeated the air. The place doubled as a drug den, so not many people forfeited the hidden rooms in the cream-colored walls for the gambling tables or pleasures of smaller vices. A dusty piano embellished the right side of the room, and assorted paintings and trinkets adorned the doors of the drug rooms, appearing as little more than tacky decorations. There were only three other people within his line of vision, the bartender included, though he could hear giggling and expletives coming from within the smoke-scented walls.
Ace was getting the feeling that something wasn't quite right. One of those three men approached him and observed the hand-print as Ace once again checked the pain level.
"I take it your lady's not happy with you?" Ace's eyes widened imperceptibly, what was going on? Everyone knew who he was, what he was capable of, and how easily he could be set off. Why would a faceless try and talk to him?
"Not at the moment, no." He grinned sheepishly, putting on his nice front. The faceless laughed,
"So what did you do to make her so angry that you've downed ten shots in the past half hour?" Ace shrugged,
"I told her I was going to kill her family." The faceless nodded, sipping a beer,
"Yeah, that'll set just about any of them off. This young woman still alive?" Ace was getting more and more confused,
"...Yes." He answered, before asking the bartender for new ice. His conversational partner chuckled,
"You must really like her then." The knave shrugged,
"That and she's not exactly the easiest person to kill." He could sense the man's confusion, "The Jabberwocky and I have an interesting relationship." The faceless raised an eyebrow,
"The Dragon Queen huh?" He answered, "Then I'm sorry for what's about to happen to you." He merely continued drinking as a good ten people dropped from the rafters. How had Ace not noticed them? Yeah, he was a little drunk, but alcohol had never impaired his senses to such an extent. He stood up and drew his sword, as the faceless continued speaking. "The Jabberwocky must die, along with anyone who might associate with her."
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Looks like you guys get to see a bar fight in the next chapter, as the full thing would be too long for me to include now. THIS IS THE LAST DAY TO VOTE IN THE POLL, so if you want to do that, do it now. And as always, R&R, and leave constructive criticism! Please! I would love to hear your input and get feedback on how I can make my writing better!
-Static