Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2014 20:18:53 GMT -5
陰 Dragon ☯ Shaman 陽
Can you see through the mist!?
Dormouse was growing more and more exhausted with all of this. He just wanted to sleep. With the Red Hound’s men serving him full well on a platter to, what he was assured, was his death, now his friend was being burned alive, and it was all in due to their meddling. He rubbed his eyes in an exhausted sob. He pounded at the palm of Noctis’ hand, fallen to his knees in despair. The fire crackled and burned until what remained of the hat fell to cinders upon the table and what all remained of the destructive force that was the Queen’s Hound. When the large hat, which was decorated in all manner of silk and cloth (which likely attributed to its rapid burning) it revealed not the half bald cap of the Hatter’s bald skull, but instead the smooth dome of a tea kettle, which whistled out as it boiled over! The mouse blinked open his eyes and slipped from the warrior prince’s hand onto the table where he fell to his rump, crinkled tail twitching at the muchness of it all.
“They’ve even turned him into a kettle!” He wailed at the most ironic of fates. “He became what he loved at morning, noon and night!” As Dormouse held to his distraught agony the Carpenter laughed and jumped onto the table, his ginger top being scratched at by a curious finger.
From his belt he drew out a hammer and swung forcefully, so much so that if Noctis did not back away he would likely find that hammers are hard tools, meant for driving in nails and faces given the chance. THe head of the hammer struck the cast iron kettle with quite a siege of force which sent a rattling ring across the tea party. On the table the Dormouse rattled across the surface of the table, pushing his hands to his large ears. The rumbling vibrations caused the fires to die out over the scarecrow. There was a moment of stillness than crack! A line began to form across the kettle causing it to split clean in half revealing the misshapen stake of a fence post, charred black, and the scraps of tablecloth used to make the Hatter-scarecrow’s clothing. Dormouse flailed and fall over wailing at the Carpenter’s actions.
“How could you!?” The mouse bitterly accused at the mad cackling of the Carpenter.
“A well constructed fake,” He cheered and spun the hammer back into his belt. “A fine job if I do say so myself, and I certainly do giving the workmanship had quite the minimalist of minimal materials. A very reduced job output!” He explained in an unclear fashion.
While the Carpenter admired the work the Dormouse shuffled slowly to his paws and clutched his arms to his chest as he squinted his sleep hazed eyes at the dummy. Why it was not his dummy, but another dummy entirely. It was very badly made, so much so that it was something easily mistaken as the Hatter who was a bit odd looking himself. Wiping the drying tears from his furry cheeks the Dormouse was glad to see a dumb-dumb that was not his. He gave a huff and waddled over to a teapot, reaching in to fetch a small, miniscule broom fitting his size just right. He waggled a finger at the Carpenter who hopped off the table to begin repairing a chair, upside down parts no less!
“You should be more useful and build things that don’t undo like this, maybe people wouldn’t be so sore at you when bridges fall!” The Dormouse began to sweep the table of the cinders and sugary piles of mess left behind by the rabid hound.
The Carpenter laughed. “That is such a silly idea, to build things that redo themselves after construction is preposterous! Dear mouse you should remove yourself for such wry comments or amend such a mad idea!”
The mouse scoffed at the idea and began to sweep up. “Such a tasteless lout,” He accused of the Carpenter as the man rattled on in the background about some nonsense concerning a bridge he build in less than a day! Mouse sighed and looked up to them, waggling his finger. “It’s the fault of your boss it is. There were many less beheadings as of late, but then the Hound’s influence had come to change many things. You should be ashamed!” He accosted the pair.
Dormouse, sweeping the soot, noticed that some of the mess on the table won’t clean. Blinking his sleep hazy eyes he looked down to realize that it was a message, a poem. What did it mean? Moving his little paw down to trace it along the carving the mouse repeated it aloud.
“I set to fire what I look to with dread. In the distance I can now see red. With the sun setting over the moat. The clear swirl of what comes next, is smoke. Over the hill, to a house. There you will see a grouse. Drowning in a pool of tears. You will find there, all of your fears...?” Dormouse rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Why does this sound awfully familiar, but completely beyond any muchness I know of?”
The Carpenter was helping rebuild one of the chairs, upside down of course, and piped up at hearing the words. “Isn’t Duchess’ house up the hill?” He sat upon the chair he rebuilt and cackled in a jovial manner.
“W-why yes…” Dormouse stammered and suddenly flailed his arms, dropping his broom. “It’s just outside of Mister Catepillar’s Forest in fact! Ohhh what a debacle!” He wailed. “Things have become much too upside down and we aren’t even in the Upside Down room. In truth I haven’t seen the Hatter or the March Hare in some time. I suppose it was wishful thinking on my part…” He turned to Noctis and Ienzo, falling to his knees. “Oh please, spare my friends! Tell your master that i-if anything happens to them… w-well… you’ll be sorry!” He warned.
“Absolutely apologetic!” Carpenter added.
After climbing his way up the hill the hound found his way to the Duchess’ House. The hill was quite a struggle as much of the road was smooth with dirt and made it difficult to climb, rugged terrain in a very steep spot. But the dragon was much used to climbing and found great fun in rushing up the steep slope to the very odd house on the hill. As his boots crunched from dirt to cobblestone he slowed down. His left arm would raise itself up to shield his sensitive nose and mouth from the strong smell that flew from the windows and chimney. The smell of pepper was strong. As the Titanic hound crossed his way toward the door he did not notice the stray, purple cat upon the windowsill. The cat was very possessive of his mad home and did not like uninvited guests. The dragon blinked and turned his amber eyes toward the window, but nothing remained but a curling, devilish smile as it vanished. Narrowing his eyes the beast pounded violently on the wooden door. A rabble of yelling and a babe crying could be heard before a number of plates shattered to the ground. The hound sneered. He really hated dealing with them, but they held the tool he needed to continue his trouble.
The door soon opened by the Duchess’ handmaiden. “Ah, Mister Red Hound, how do ye?” The odd, disfigured looking woman grinned.
The dragon leaned forward against the doorframe, raising his arm to rest on it so he loomed over the gangly figure in a bonnet. A serpent’s grin coiled across his face as he hissed softly, a plume of smoke burbling from his lips and snaking beneath the long, disfigured nose of the woman. She shuddered before holding in a sneeze. Inside the Duchess could be heard wailing that he’s come for it all!
“Is it sir, ‘ave ya come for it all?” The handmaiden questioned.
The red hound nodded. “If you give it all, he will not have their house tumbled off the hill. Fair is fair he reckons, in such a troubled time.” The woman rattled at the deep, baritone voice that all but robbed her senses blind!
She hurried inside and soon came out with a massive sack of pepper, all of their pepper. Inside the baby was crying and the Duchess shouting madly while hurling plates all over the room. “A-ah, ‘scuse me sir, I must tend to the Duchess now…” She hurried back inside, slamming the door quickly.
The dragon sneezed before tossing the sack over his shoulder. Wiping his nose with his thumb and forefinger he would look around before heading off down the road toward Caterpillar's Forest and all of Duchess' pepper in tow.
“They’ve even turned him into a kettle!” He wailed at the most ironic of fates. “He became what he loved at morning, noon and night!” As Dormouse held to his distraught agony the Carpenter laughed and jumped onto the table, his ginger top being scratched at by a curious finger.
From his belt he drew out a hammer and swung forcefully, so much so that if Noctis did not back away he would likely find that hammers are hard tools, meant for driving in nails and faces given the chance. THe head of the hammer struck the cast iron kettle with quite a siege of force which sent a rattling ring across the tea party. On the table the Dormouse rattled across the surface of the table, pushing his hands to his large ears. The rumbling vibrations caused the fires to die out over the scarecrow. There was a moment of stillness than crack! A line began to form across the kettle causing it to split clean in half revealing the misshapen stake of a fence post, charred black, and the scraps of tablecloth used to make the Hatter-scarecrow’s clothing. Dormouse flailed and fall over wailing at the Carpenter’s actions.
“How could you!?” The mouse bitterly accused at the mad cackling of the Carpenter.
“A well constructed fake,” He cheered and spun the hammer back into his belt. “A fine job if I do say so myself, and I certainly do giving the workmanship had quite the minimalist of minimal materials. A very reduced job output!” He explained in an unclear fashion.
While the Carpenter admired the work the Dormouse shuffled slowly to his paws and clutched his arms to his chest as he squinted his sleep hazed eyes at the dummy. Why it was not his dummy, but another dummy entirely. It was very badly made, so much so that it was something easily mistaken as the Hatter who was a bit odd looking himself. Wiping the drying tears from his furry cheeks the Dormouse was glad to see a dumb-dumb that was not his. He gave a huff and waddled over to a teapot, reaching in to fetch a small, miniscule broom fitting his size just right. He waggled a finger at the Carpenter who hopped off the table to begin repairing a chair, upside down parts no less!
“You should be more useful and build things that don’t undo like this, maybe people wouldn’t be so sore at you when bridges fall!” The Dormouse began to sweep the table of the cinders and sugary piles of mess left behind by the rabid hound.
The Carpenter laughed. “That is such a silly idea, to build things that redo themselves after construction is preposterous! Dear mouse you should remove yourself for such wry comments or amend such a mad idea!”
The mouse scoffed at the idea and began to sweep up. “Such a tasteless lout,” He accused of the Carpenter as the man rattled on in the background about some nonsense concerning a bridge he build in less than a day! Mouse sighed and looked up to them, waggling his finger. “It’s the fault of your boss it is. There were many less beheadings as of late, but then the Hound’s influence had come to change many things. You should be ashamed!” He accosted the pair.
Dormouse, sweeping the soot, noticed that some of the mess on the table won’t clean. Blinking his sleep hazy eyes he looked down to realize that it was a message, a poem. What did it mean? Moving his little paw down to trace it along the carving the mouse repeated it aloud.
“I set to fire what I look to with dread. In the distance I can now see red. With the sun setting over the moat. The clear swirl of what comes next, is smoke. Over the hill, to a house. There you will see a grouse. Drowning in a pool of tears. You will find there, all of your fears...?” Dormouse rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “Why does this sound awfully familiar, but completely beyond any muchness I know of?”
The Carpenter was helping rebuild one of the chairs, upside down of course, and piped up at hearing the words. “Isn’t Duchess’ house up the hill?” He sat upon the chair he rebuilt and cackled in a jovial manner.
“W-why yes…” Dormouse stammered and suddenly flailed his arms, dropping his broom. “It’s just outside of Mister Catepillar’s Forest in fact! Ohhh what a debacle!” He wailed. “Things have become much too upside down and we aren’t even in the Upside Down room. In truth I haven’t seen the Hatter or the March Hare in some time. I suppose it was wishful thinking on my part…” He turned to Noctis and Ienzo, falling to his knees. “Oh please, spare my friends! Tell your master that i-if anything happens to them… w-well… you’ll be sorry!” He warned.
“Absolutely apologetic!” Carpenter added.
After climbing his way up the hill the hound found his way to the Duchess’ House. The hill was quite a struggle as much of the road was smooth with dirt and made it difficult to climb, rugged terrain in a very steep spot. But the dragon was much used to climbing and found great fun in rushing up the steep slope to the very odd house on the hill. As his boots crunched from dirt to cobblestone he slowed down. His left arm would raise itself up to shield his sensitive nose and mouth from the strong smell that flew from the windows and chimney. The smell of pepper was strong. As the Titanic hound crossed his way toward the door he did not notice the stray, purple cat upon the windowsill. The cat was very possessive of his mad home and did not like uninvited guests. The dragon blinked and turned his amber eyes toward the window, but nothing remained but a curling, devilish smile as it vanished. Narrowing his eyes the beast pounded violently on the wooden door. A rabble of yelling and a babe crying could be heard before a number of plates shattered to the ground. The hound sneered. He really hated dealing with them, but they held the tool he needed to continue his trouble.
The door soon opened by the Duchess’ handmaiden. “Ah, Mister Red Hound, how do ye?” The odd, disfigured looking woman grinned.
The dragon leaned forward against the doorframe, raising his arm to rest on it so he loomed over the gangly figure in a bonnet. A serpent’s grin coiled across his face as he hissed softly, a plume of smoke burbling from his lips and snaking beneath the long, disfigured nose of the woman. She shuddered before holding in a sneeze. Inside the Duchess could be heard wailing that he’s come for it all!
“Is it sir, ‘ave ya come for it all?” The handmaiden questioned.
The red hound nodded. “If you give it all, he will not have their house tumbled off the hill. Fair is fair he reckons, in such a troubled time.” The woman rattled at the deep, baritone voice that all but robbed her senses blind!
She hurried inside and soon came out with a massive sack of pepper, all of their pepper. Inside the baby was crying and the Duchess shouting madly while hurling plates all over the room. “A-ah, ‘scuse me sir, I must tend to the Duchess now…” She hurried back inside, slamming the door quickly.
The dragon sneezed before tossing the sack over his shoulder. Wiping his nose with his thumb and forefinger he would look around before heading off down the road toward Caterpillar's Forest and all of Duchess' pepper in tow.
TAGS: Next~! | NOTES: A senseless robbery, or a thoughtful delivery?