Till a Century
For diamonds do appear to be just like broken glass to me.
Good Evening, Madam Foreigner
(One-years-old.)
It was all for the show. Something to cater to for the other half that has already seen the show and just wanted to wander around the park. An ill-appropriate stall, something humorous determining which Joker Alice was talking to. She was the "self-proclaimed" fortune teller and she absolutely hated it.
Of course, White was the one who suggested it – out of humor and to gander humiliation on Alice's end; he'd show her how to haggle and how to lie with the flip of cards. Tarot cards spread across the table, his fingers quickly flipping over the pictures that flooded with color and far-off writings. He'd show her the imagery and ran down the meaning of each card. And if she forgot, he constantly reminded her to lie and talk about the romanticized emotion that people felt – what they mostly craved for: love.
"I really don't want to do this." Alice slumped back against her wooden chair. Lazily shuffling through the cards while trying to balance Percival on her lap; the little girl was growing restless, annoyed by how many times her mother moved her hands away from the colorful cards.
"It'd be fun. Maybe later I'll show you how to read palms." The Jester grinned, leaning over the table to grab Alice's hands; she'd bat him away with the flick of the wrist.
"I'm only doing this once. You hear me? Once." The Outsider grumbled, her arm wrapping back around her daughter securely; her fingers dug against her daughter's dress irritably, straightening the child's attire; beautifully childish, adorable to every account, lined in reds and blacks and strumming gold. Percival's dress was picked out by one of the Jokers. Alice just couldn't remember which.
"Such a stubborn woman." White sighed in defeat, standing from the adjacent end of Alice's table. He'd then learn across the table, seizing Alice close so he could lay a single parting kiss; Alice frowned, but complied and returned the kiss; she could feel the eerily placed smile he pressed against her lips, then he'd incline his head lower to peck his daughter on the forehead. "Do be good to our patrons, Alice. Remember to smile." He straightened his figure, tipped his head, and then left the fortuneteller tent to attend the next big event within the big-top.
It was a slow day, a few degrees warmer than what Alice was used to. Boring and slow, except for the voices that pried outside the tent. Percival was placed on the ground, next to Alice's feet; she set out a blanket for her to lay on, a pillow, and a few of her blocks that Percival enjoyed to toss around or to touch; fingering the letters that were carved against the wooden blocks. The little girl hummed happily, giggled to the clanking sound of tapping the block against the table leg. Alice sat there and endured it, almost falling asleep at the table; hands closing and head inclined to rest upon the solid surface.
Alice was quickly jolted from her dower, hands quickly grasping at the table, shuffling the deck to make herself look busy. "Relax. Geez." Black mocked her with a sly smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. "The b-"He'd clear his throat when his single eye lingered down to his daughter, "The clown is taking my shift."
Black was only able to venture around circus grounds, anything farther than his original destination was always a bother for him. So when Alice saw the man lined in Jester uniform rather than Warden Attire, she'd smile hard. "What?"
"Nothing, nothing." Alice kept her simple grin plastered, watching the man sit down in the chair in front of her table. "You have a show coming up I suppose?" Alice commented and the man huffed.
"Sure." He leaned forward to drawl Percival on his lap, then leaned back against the chair to situate himself. "But the idiot did say he put you to work. But never clarified at what. I was – curious." His sadistic complex flooded his expression. The colorful clothing didn't match up with his aspect; it was only a mere disguise masking his motive. Morbid to every detail. Oddly – Alice was drawn; to not one, but to both personas that the Jesters showed her.
"So –"The Warden slowly spoke, "are ya going to read my fortune or are you going to just sit there with that stupid look on your face?" Percival began to make her slow climb against her father's chest, trying her best to decipher the situation; she only cared about gripping the earring that daggled from the Jester's ear. To Percival's disappointment, Black gently moved her hand away, thumbing gently against her knuckle.
"Ah? Oh! What do you want to know?" Alice shuffled with the tarot cards, fiddling through the lining of the hard cards; stacking them in front of her then spreading them out facedown.
"You're not supposed to ask me. You're supposed to tell me what I'm lookin' for, duh." The Warden groaned, mindlessly trying to settle Percival's wandering hands that gripped at the fabric of the jester's outfit, tugging at the round, gold rings that decorated his neck; she'd also go for the jewel that held the scarf together. "That's what a fortuneteller does."
"Do be easy on the poor girl, Joker. You are her first client after all." White's voice sounded from the porcelain mask that strapped to Black's hip. "Shut up." Black shot back, not having a free hand to clamp the mask's glass mouth shut. "Come on, drawl my cards and tell me whatever backwash lie you came up with." The Warden dawned impatiently.
Nervously, Alice drew the first card her finger slid over. Ironically, Le Mat was drawn; the fool, key number eleven: The Spirit of the Aether. "Well? What does it mean?" Black loomed, he tilted his head, amused by the way Alice's mouth hung open for the moment.
Alice cleared her throat, slowly piecing together her fabled prediction, "The Fool, the divinatory meaning, means upright-beginnings. Journeys that relate more to a mental wellbeing than an actual trip; unexpected happenings. It also means – happiness, optimism, energy, and force. Sometime soon, you will have to make a spontaneous choice that will determine your mental health. The reverse meaning can lead you to rash or impulsive decisions – so be weary." Alice waved her arms for dramatic effect, and even Black couldn't help to chuckle at Alice's fondness to not take this completely serious. He indulged in her innocence, and so did White who'd listen contently on the receiving end of the glass mask.
"That's my girl! Completely believable. Go ahead, draw another card." White's voice echoed from the mask.
Alice was feeling more confident now, now that she's gained such praise. She'd drawl another one, and her doe eyes squinted in thought, then widened with realization. L'imperatrice; The Empress, key number fourteen: The Daughter of the Mighty Ones. "The Empress. Love and parenthood. Maternal care –"Alice snorted, and rolled her tongue at, "Maternal care." She tried to cease her mocking snicker with her hand, and Black stared her down hard.
"Funny? If you hadn't notice the child we share –"He gestured to the child that was so keen at pulling at whatever article he owned; still threatening to pull at the jewelry from his ear.
"Sorry, sorry." Alice waved it off, listening to the small echo of a laugh tumble from the mask on Black's hip. "Depending on surrounding cards it also means marriage and pregnancy. Reversed of that is lack of affection." Alice shot him a playful glance and the man's frown burned deep, "Might I suggest a more of an understanding to the values of intimacy?"
"Are you trying to tell me something?" Black accused.
"Oh, no." Alice commented sarcastically.
"Then drawl my last card, woman."
Alice fiddled with the last card, pulling the card directly from the top. La Mort; Death: The Lord of the Gate of Death, key number twenty-four. "Interesting." Alice huffed out.
"Well?" Black dragged out.
"Upright, the card means the beginning of a new life –"
"-Please tell me you're not pregnant again. Is this some ploy of hinting? Because I don't think I can handle more children trying to tug at my earring." Black joked, and Alice fumed.
"I am not pregnant! Ever heard of coincidence? As I was saying - this also connects to your first card; major changes, an end to a phase that served its purpose. Abrupt and complete. Reversed, it can mean both painful and unpleasant; a refusal to face fear. Heed shallow waters, Mister Joker." Alice waved her hands again, faking an accent that seemed outlandish. "Now this is the part where you pay me." Alice leaned over her table to rattle the can on the edge.
"Are you getting smart with me?" The Warden's brows rose, trying his best not to fully mock his lover, "You do realize the penalty?"
"I lied about your fortune. I should be rewarded for something. You were my hardest and only customer. Come on –"Alice's confidence peeked, her smile never fading, "humor me." Humor her? How rich.
"Humor? So you memorized cards, that any halfwit could do, and strung together a meaningless conclusion." Black was quiet for a moment, pondering over what he just said. Then, he fully broke into an evil smirk that had Alice reeling back a tad, "Sure. I do believe there is a reward in order." He leaned down to place his daughter back on her play mat; Percival whined, trying to tug at his sleeves to pick her back up. In response, Black caressed a gentle hand against her face to settle her.
Once Black broke full contact from his daughter, he leaned over the solid surface of Alice's table. Alice tried to move away from his grasp, but he still jerked her by the shoulder. "I was just joking about –"Silence followed when his lips pressed roughly against hers, moving a hand to tangle into her hair, holding her in place while she received her forced reward.
"That doesn't sound much like payment, Joker." White muttered from the mask.
White:
"The young miss is absolutely adorable. You can only imagine how she'll look once she's all grown." An aerialist leaned into Alice's space; her eyeless face brimming with utter infatuation over the matters of Alice's daughter – who was being carried around the circular ring by her father; White took to duty of stock check, and animal care results. Percival sat on his hip, her fingers entwined against the dark fabric of her father's jester attire.
"Most definably." Alice nodded, "Though – I believe she'll dome her father's looks. She already, mostly does." The Foreigner stated so. Fondly glaring off the side of the performer's face to stare at The Jester and her daughter who'd look disinterested in her father's schedule. Alice was mildly surprised that Percival has been so obedient with White Joker's movement and fumbling with other performers who'd needed to be updated on current performance.
"You believe so, Miss Alice?" A ballet dancer stood near, reeling her dainty head to the aerialist and The Outsider. "Even so – she may have acquired your grace and charm." The dancer hummed pleasantly, "I don't know if that will be a good thing or not. I'd say an advantage. Beauty and intellect would be a most favorable burden."
The Aerialist chuckled warmly, arms crossing over her chest, "She'd be stealing the show from us if that was the case. I do expect that the boss would want his own kin to perform with him. I just know she'll grow up with much talent."
The Dancer perked up, delicate fingers touching her bottom lip, "You believe so?" Her smile broke all different shades, "How exciting! Miss Alice, what says you?" The Dancer's hands clapped together, breaking Alice from her reverie.
"Hm?" Alice's hands flattened and rolled over her apron, "It'd be up to Percival. Not I, nor Joker in that matter. But as a mother – I actually fear that possibility. I'm amazed by all your performances, but setting my own daughter in that dangerous situation terrifies me to no end. Call me paranoid." She spoke plainly, eyes trailing over the man that still held her daughter loosely to his hip. Percival's eyes have seemed to droop and has already sought refuge to sleep against her father's side. Alice found it remarkable that Percival could even sleep with the chaos of the circus and White Joker's voice that reverberated over circus' grounds.
It'd be an hour before Alice even had the time to capture The Ringmaster's attention. His stained, wine eye full of mirth when The Outsider approached with a fleeting smile that only turned inquisitive. Percival was awake, hands still gripping tight against the fabric of White's uniformed shoulder; her eyes widening with her mother that started walking closer and closer. "Well, look who it is. Our favorite Outsider." His voice chimed, mockingly bowing with his daughter in hand. Percival huffed, and pressed her face to her father's shoulder for support over the sharp movement; a solid whine escaped the child's mouth.
"After breaking conversation with the performers and with you – doing whatever you do. I only reasoned it'd be necessary to come over and talk." Alice shrugged her shoulders, her smile finally flooding her expression when she caught the off color of her daughter's eyes that mirrored quizzical natures to the world around her.
"Necessary?" The Harlequin's head tilted, but still gestured for The Foreigner to draw near. "I wouldn't think of it as a chore to come talk to me."
"Don't take it like that." Alice pouted, hand waving off his comment. "Bloody man, you know entirely what I mean."
"Blissful as always. Eloquent – I wouldn't betray that as you. Can you ever say anything nice, dear Alice?" His eye narrowed, staring off at The Foreigner who erected her posture under his ruby gaze. He cleared his throat, "Nonetheless. If you must ask – in which you haven't – I had Percival walk a little today around the ring with me. She's growing stronger, Alice. In no time she won't need us holding her everywhere." The Jester brushed his hand fondly up and down his daughter's back.
Alice ignored his crud nature, his subtle anger that spiked in annoyance – complying with his better nature of faking happiness. "Ah? Really?" Alice still thought back to the performers, talking about Percival being thrown into the show; paranoia flooding.
The Jester nodded and bent down to place his daughter on the ground, politely holding out his hands so his daughter could latch. Percival did struggle, feet dragging and scooting against the gravel. "See, Alice. In no time she'll be running this sideshow. Can you only imagine?" The Ringmaster swelled with pride and Alice faked a smile.
"I assume so."
Black:
The only sound that could be heard down the stretch of amble hall was the click of the Black Joker's boots and the eerie clank of gates that bounced and dimmed into silence. Percival sat upon father's hip, hands curled into uniform, and stared on while her father patrolled the halls, head lulling to one side.
"Such a pretty little – snipe." Joker stops in his place, head turning to the opposing end of the hall. There was no exchange of words, just a simple stare – red eye haunting, watching the way the owner of the voice calls out, hands curled about bars; knuckles as white as bone. Percival's eyes averted along with her father's movements, eyes wide and curious to whatever uttered from the prisoner's mouth; muffled behind an animal mask filled with cotton. The child finds humor in the colorful mask and she begins to grin while trying to reach out, little pants of laughter escapes her mouth; innocent and well-balanced.
It wouldn't be unnatural that the prisoners have grown bold. Madness seems to wait for no man once they're locked under key for so long. Concrete was their calendar and their minds were their music that played endless.
"Such a pretty little creature." The prisoner sticks his hand out from the bar, voice dawning higher, more possessed in dabbling horrors. "I can only imagine you tricked that pretty foreigner to lie with you." The mask is pressed against the bar, hand still reaching out, still grabbing out to be met with void.
Joker makes no movement, he only stares; still holding his daughter that wormed playfully in his grasp, shrilling her baby talk. Babbling. "You probably laid her down. You probably laughed while you took her innocents. Men of your caliber do tend to be possessive. Did she cry? Did she cry also when she gave birth to that little – pretty abomination?" The twist of the prisoner's hand defines fault; index drawn, pointing aimlessly at The Warden who'd made no use of emotion. A bored expression painted, daunting to listen to the rest of the miserable dog's voice.
There'd be a chuckle, thick and damning, muffled by all that cotton that held up the man's mask. "When that little girl grows up. She'll know. She'll know that her father is evil, that she is not like the people of Wonderland. And you want to know the fucked up thing about this? Men will want her, everyone will want her just like her mother. Even the prisoners that are holed up in this place. Isn't that the game of Wonderland? Wanting curious things that are considered abnormal." The man's voice rises, his laughter curling into atmosphere, "She'll know. She'll know. She'll –"The Prisoner's voice is cut off by a cry of a child and a gunshot that penetrates the skull of the animal mask.
Black Joker holds up his gun. The pistol drapes it waterfall smoke from the barrel, smothered out by the late burn of singed cotton and flesh. The Prisoner's body slumps; the abhuman head pressed against bar and slowly slides onto the hard floors. Fingers unravel, and a hand sticks out from the bars – twitching. The body fades, leaving the clock that stopped on an odd hour.
The prison drowns with the startled voice of Percival, wailing uncontrollably to the sound that scared her. "Shh. Shh." The Warden goes, holstering his weapon that faded back into a whip. He presses his child's face against his chest. A gentle hand that's killed a man soothes his daughter into lulling hiccups.
His hands write wrongs.
Bed:
Percival fell asleep curled against Black Joker's body; his body loomed and slumped to one side while he cradled the gentle form of Percival.
Alice curled against White who has his back turned to her. Fingers trace, and trace into a bottomless night-cycle.
None of them has been sleeping well lately.
-x-
A/N: This story will not always be kind. You know, The Jokers are not the most pleasant guy(s) to be around.
I'm still editing this chapter and moving on to the next chapter with a little surprise.