Our wonderland has shattered.

Knee-deep in the mire,  she presents herself a rather hapless urchin; wrinkled nose and fidgeting all in turn.  Some blue hue emanates from the pocket of her apron,  wherein she’s kept it firmly snug and untouched.  The cat is met with apathy,  and then whetted judgement.  He’s more ugly and mangy than she has first recalled.        “  Why must I be the one always killing for you  —  albeit all is my creation.  Haven’t you your own rage to expel so?  ”

Eldest son of the esteemed Madigan family, the Queen of Hearts set her sights on the boy fairly soon after enlisting his father into her commands. Just after she stole the land, or perhaps before, the elder Madigan couldn’t quite recall. Only recollections involved his little brother, absent father, barely could he even recall his mother.

He’d found his calling, as it’d turn out. Least, as far as anyone had to know. She favored him, as it turned out. He could call her a cow and she wouldn’t bat an eye, even act as if she thought he was adorable for it. So long as she did what she wanted, and as he found, killing held a heavy pleasure in his heart. 

He enjoyed it, enjoyed watching them in pain, suffering. The fear in their eyes when the blade came near.  His aggression's earned him a new title, Mad March.

 His father died, killed himself, the eldest couldn’t care. That just meant there was only two left, and he knew he had to be the only one left. The death he’d leave his little brother would be a gift against what life he’d have otherwise, best rationalization that the assassin would need.... least, if he needed one. 

He didn’t expect to be taken out first.

             “Lady Mag. Thank you for your company.”

Not all of the kingdoms had been destroyed. While the former seat of power was nothing more than ruins, the royal families remained. Their homes were not as GRAND as the Hearts’, but they were livable. Their power would be further elevated if they managed an alliance between their kingdoms, hence the reason for his visit. 

Francis moved away from the window, finally seeing her for the first time. Now he understood why the king had chosen her; she was lovely. A proper consort for any male royal, if only she had a noble title.

             “And what do Their Majesties have in mind? You live here. What could               a visiting prince do to stave off eternal boredom?”

        “ The Casino offers plenty forms of... instant gratification. “ 

Though, most of the casino entertainment area was reserved for the oysters they’d brought in, The King mentioned that anything could be used to entertain the royal. Keep him from seeing the state of the people. While a great deal of Wonderland was in the same state: Homes on top of homes, destruction where any might riot against the Hearts, no need for visitors from other fractions to see just what had become of the citizens. 

Then, most of the ones who haven’t fought back kept from fighting back. Likely the same system that Winston planned on tricking the other royals into. Instant gratification, easiest way to maintain control.

         Lost Princess, perhaps? Too pretty to just be a commoner. Though, the Queen of Hearts would have her killed if she proved to be any sort of a threat. The Duchess herself would encourage it, if Jack were to show any interest. Steadily, she was turning to the very creature she despised. Jealousy could do that to a person, and a betrothed who lacked interest. 

I definitely believe that that trait of hers passed down to Jack. He only recognized Hatter because Hatter was ‘taking’ something he wanted. Alice. If Hatter wasn’t holding a sort of relation to Alice, Jack would have forgotten about him not long afterwards. Or, at least he wouldn’t have recognized his face. 

I go with Duchess worked for the King of Hearts prior to being a Duchess, and falling in love with Jack (for some bullshit reason) during this time. That’s why she went along with the whole being engaged to him thing: His prior engagement didn’t work out, seemed like a perfect chance to convince him to fall in love w her (which, as we all know if you know me on other places, I am never a fan or supporter of. I think it’s an abusive tactic and does show that Duchess is also not a good person, she just has more of an excuse than jack does) 

Tbh, I think Jack had known her for awhile, and..... didn’t realize he did. Like, he resented her as the bride ‘his mother’ picked out (when it was really his father), and assumed she was just that. Just another spy. Just like, at least where my main arching storyline goes along, particularly involving my main blog (hatpinblade), Jack does know Hatter before the series starts. But while Hatter probably remembers him, Jack doesn’t. Jack gives no shits about people outside of himself. He probably doesn’t even know who anyone in the resistance is outside of Caterpillar. 

       THE KING’S orders were simple: entertain the visiting monarch of another kingdom. One the Queen of Hearts had yet to completely annihilate, and could potentially partner with, still. The Kingdoms of White and Red were both gone, Hearts taken their place without probable cause. The Queen could still take use of the other four Kingdoms left behind-- Spades, Clubs, Diamonds, and Fools. Entertain could mean various things, for the Prince of Clubs, she’d hope for less of what the King might have hinted. But what could she really say against it, she was a a spy, she wasn’t a Duchess yet. 

man i gotta remake all my icons of M/arina cause they’re the old ones I made w a border from a giveaway I cant remember and my drive’s still downloading so I can’t find them in general (I feel like it was Dani) but uh yeah I really wanna write here more and one person in particular demands attention so

         “ What would a saviour do? “ Heroes, flickers of stories heard when younger, someone vaguely resembling a sibling speaking them into idealized visions. Heroes were never real, saviours didn’t really happen. The world was aflame, some lone girl dark hues could see dancing between seats at a tea party so far gone in her own realm that theirs was falling to pieces as well. Good people losing themselves to the darkness, the Queen killing any crossing her path. Hatter seemed far more content breaking others down and reassembling them to care much for his own friends or family. Nothing ever did last forever.

          “ I can’t break everyone free from the asylum. Half of his stock comes from there. He’s turned his own sons into weapons. Me, my brother, we’re nothing to him. Memories are powerful, I doubt any can forget this mess. “ How little she truly knows, knowledge never fully extending outwards of the oversized birdcage she’s been trapped inside. Attempts to move the excuse for appendages he’s replaced her own with, the heat kept high to ensure her body remains too weak to deny the foreign matter. “ Could maybe break one of these off to pick the lock, could be he’ll barge in knowing what’s occurring. “ 

        “ Perhaps a simple equation will further explain the situation in full. If one can’t save everyone but a single person, would they still try? Would it truly be wrong of them to let all suffer in place of one? Or would everything come to a certain end if the singular soul manages escape? Not everyone will be safe, in essence. Though, most will remain. Least in memories. Oftentimes that proves to be enough. “

          LUNGS FEEL heavy with the heat pressing down upon pale form, sickly appearance when she’s unconscious, only worse when awoken. Fire kept burning in the chamber, eyes drawl across the sleeping form of the only companionship she knows. When golden slivers shine near her, taking shape steadily as the girl sits up– careful to keep quiet. Much as neither know true freedom, rarely does the other get to rest where he’s barred down, iron pinning right arm to the ground.

          “ You’ve a habit of showing up wherever you want, don’t you? “ Breath flickers as voice breaks, pulled close to herself as she tries to keep held up. Wires protruding from the arm that’d been replaced– though, still not complete. The Hatter had been rather busy to finish with his projects, still curious as to his plans for his own son. “ Yet you never try to help. “ 

&& @wcnderlcnd

      “ Should I prove of use to you? Is it not in the best interest of all if everyone were to handle their own difficulties? Accomplishment wields empowerment, or so I’ve heard. “ GRIN reflects amusement, though never has the grin left his lips before. Perhaps naturally how the feline’s breed’s skull formed. Many would deny, though most still believe his species capable of the loving sort. Cheshire cats never were so simple, certainly not he. Own emotional range, albeit vast, tends to show in three specific notions.