Work Text:
Oh Fuck.
“Mr. Mittens? Mr. Mittens! Where’d you go?”
Shard spent the last five or so minutes looking for his exceedingly dumb cat. The fact that the lamp posts weren’t all too bright nor all too many made this a little difficult, more so for a little Mr. Mittens who can barely see a thing. It was supposed to be a simple mission, and it was, it was just a matter of getting the cat back home now.
“Mr. Mittens!”
He was thankful that there were hardly any people in the area, but part of him wished that there were so they’d help get him back. The pale moonlight is an outright lie; it was nowhere near bright enough for him to really see much. The dark alleys weren’t the first thing on his mind to check either.
“Mr. Mittens!”
A little flash of gray or silver crossed the corner of his eye as he immediately chased it. Is it him? He followed whatever it was through an open door but when he found himself inside the old building, the door shut right behind him though he was damn sure he was alone.
An anomaly? Fuck.
He brought out his flashlight to see better but before he could click it on, the room was suddenly lit up by the dim light of what he’d assumed were oil lamps or something similar. Candles maybe. He was alone, as far as he could tell, and that was probably a good thing.
The other end of the room had a door far too small for him, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try to crawl through. If it was Mr. Mittens, there’s nowhere else he’d go.
Of course, there’s no going anywhere without an exit plan so he goes to the original door and tries to open it, though was met with a smaller door. Then another door, and another, smaller and smaller as he continued until it was far too small for him to pass through even if he’s been optimistic.
Definitely an anomaly.
He goes to the second door across and turns the brass doorknob and the fucker yells at him, so he responds with pulling his hand away from it and kicking it, scooting backwards on the tile floor.
As you do.
The doorknob yelled some more.
“Have some manners, will you?!”
“Oh, I’m sorry a fucking DOORKNOB is talking to me!”
Was this part of the anomaly? He swore the rest of the retrieval team brought it back to the site and he was just left to do his regular work in disinformation. It was supposedly just a humanoid with some minor anomaly. It wasn’t even in the same building, it was a few streets off even. Then again, could you really predict anomalies?
So he does something dumb yet reasonable.
“Pardon me for that, I was just surprised.” At least he can add apologizing to a sentient doorknob to the list of things he never thought he’d do. “Have you seen a little gray cat pass by here? I have to-“
“I’m quite alright, you just did give me quite a turn. Rather good one, hm? Doorknob. Turn?” He laughed too hard before he could finish, taking a couple of seconds to regain his composure. “Well, one good turn serves another, what can I do for you?”
Shard was tempted to kick the door again as he continued to laugh at his own joke. “Please, I need to get a little gray cat back home. Have you seen him?”
“A little gray cat? Why, he just passed here no more than a moment ago!”
Mr. Mittens is the dumbest fucking cat. But he’s Shard’s dumbest fucking cat. And that’s all that matters.
“Could you please let me through so I can bring him home?”
“No! It’s impassable!”
“Impossible?” But?- There’s some leftover teeth in his pocket, he can probably work from there.
“No, nothing’s impossible. It’s impassable! You cannot pass through! You’re simply much too big.”
Shard glanced away and muttered. “They all say that.”
“Why don’t you try the bottle on the table?” The doorknob’s gazed turned to behind the agent. What?
Shard turned his head and the doorknob was right; There was a table with a little bottle on it, and a tag that said “Drink me,” as well as a key that he assumed would be for the talking doorknob. He was damn sure the table wasn’t there a second ago either as he stood up and put his hand on the wood, pocketing the key that sat there.
He inhaled deeply. Two thoughts went through his mind in that second: “Fuck it” and “Oh, a little potion!”
“Read the directions.” The doorknob instructed. “And I reckon you may be directed to the right direction!”
Besides, he wasn’t unfamiliar with food and drink with a similar tag, which he ripped off set aside in his pocket. He regretted drinking majority of them in the moment he had them before, but being poison resistant later on did wonders to his career. Besides, this wasn’t from his mentor; The handwriting was too neat. So he downed it like a shot.
It sure did taste, that’s for sure. It started with cherry tart a little too sweet for his preference, then custard without the custard texture, next pineapple and… Roast turkey? What the fuck? And why is it good?
“You almost went out like a candle!” He exclaimed with a smile.
He shrunk and from 6’9, he became roughly six inches, maybe even smaller. This is the point where the agent would be tempted to crack a short-people joke, but instead he forced the key into the doorknob’s mouth (?) and pushed through with no regard for the door who he had likely choked. Perhaps to death with no real way to remove the key. Whatever it was, it’s not his problem.
He had no time for this, he needed to get Mr. Mittens home.
The other side was a bare island, just a shallow sandbar. Unfortunately, still no Mr. Mittens in sight.
First guess, it’s a Nexus. How he got in without being able to go through a Way is another matter entirely, but he’ll ponder that a little later. Right now he had two things on his mind: Coming out of this alive and finding the stupid cat.
He’s in heavy disadvantage. He doesn’t know anything about this place and he hoped he didn’t need to know.
Oh, why the hell did he have to save a funny little magic cat with bad eyesight who happens to be a Type Blue fugitive from the GOC?
Because he’s a cute cat, and he got attached. Damn it.
Other than that… Everything here was vague memory. He couldn’t quite remember what it was, or how any of this place was familiar but not familiar enough to be useful. Maybe he’d read something in a file somewhere in the past. But the colors felt off. Not quite as vibrant as normal but neither as dull as it should be. White was too white, blue not quite blue, the sand was off and so was the water.
The island was bare and concerningly shallow as it took no longer than a few seconds for Shard to feel seawater on his socks. If he had to swim, so be it, though there was no other land in sight.
The water was inching closer. It seemed the tide was rising and it was rising fast. Not that it had much height to rise above. The somewhat lukewarm water was unpleasant in his socks, and he hoped it wouldn’t get farther than his ankle.
But it did. Damn it. At least it wasn’t cold, even if the sun hadn’t bothered to show up behind the dark clouds.
Shard trudged through the water to see if it would get deeper or if the entire place was that shallow. After only a few feet, it was up to his knee, and a little farther down got it up to his waist, so he retreated to the now-flooded little sandbar with no indication that it was an island aside from the fact that it was shallower than everywhere else.
The agent then glanced over to his watch for the time and the seconds moved like hours, the minutes like seconds and the hours like minutes. Seemed he needed to get some repairs done too, though, in his mind, it wasn’t possible that it would make such errors if one corresponded to another.
As the waves pushed in and out, it was getting uncomfortably close to being chest deep.
He could only wonder what happened to Mr. Mittens, but as another wave washed by him, the thought of the worst did too. “No, if anyone could survive a bullshit nexus, it’s Mr. Mittens.”
And himself. Probably. He had a reputation to uphold after all.
As the water went up to his shoulders, the glass bottle he had drank from earlier floated into view. Considering that he had shrunk, it seemed feasible for him to get in it and float away. It seemed to be a much better idea than just swimming to nowhere.
The agent kicked off the sandy floor to try to swim towards the glass bottle. He wasn’t going to question how it floated but as long as it floated closer, he had more time to figure things out. And in one swift movement, he was in. Albeit with a bit of water inside but it shouldn’t cause much issue.
Now what?
Oh.
Shard sat in the glass bottle and watched a humanoid dodo bird in a waist coat and tricorn hat sit atop another bird (perhaps a toucan?) like it was a boat and being pushed around by the third, which he could assume was a crow. They were cartoonishly shaped even, anatomy just deciding that they seemed part human and part bird, but it was too human to be a bird but too bird to seem human.
At this point, he just wasn’t surprised.
The bird was saying… Something, he couldn’t properly hear it in the bottle, at some point it was probably singing but he couldn’t care less about any of it. The voice was rather odd to him though; It was one he had only heard in old movies growing up with the exaggerated accent and all.
“Hey!” Shard shouted, poking out of the bottle and waving a hand as they sailed (?) out of view. Bitch.
Then a log with a pelican paddling away and two parrots sat atop, one red and one green, passed by but ignored him entirely.
“BIRD FUCKS!”
Nothing. Then a line of red lobsters paddled by too. Given that they seemed to know where they were going, Shard waved at them too, but to no avail as the waves washed over them until they were out of sight. Piece of shit. He would’ve cooked them if he could, out of pure spite too, but the ocean had its own plans.
The waves pushed him around in the bottle, turning the bottle over and forcing water inside. Shard pushed himself upwards to gasp for air, coughing out some of the salty water.
The bottle hasn’t sunk yet, but oddly enough he wasn’t cold. Nor was he that wet. He expected himself to be soaking wet but at most he was damp. At least his clothes weren’t heavy right now. That’d be a bigger issue, especially since he had a couple layers on. This was no time to drown, but at least land was probably close by if the birds were going to one direction without needing to fly.
When he was finally stable, he heard the birds singing. The dodo stood atop a stack of rocks while the sand had other birds and, are those starfish and actual fish? Whatever was going on, they were dancing in a circle around the humanoid dodo.
A bigger wave pushed him out the bottle onto the sands with the birds and the fish. At least there was land.
“Foward, backward, inward, outward! Come and join the chase! Nothing could be drier than a joyous caucus-race!”
So he was right that they were singing.
“You’ll never get dry that way!” The dodo said to Shard who was still struggling to get on his feet.
“What-“
“You have to run with the others! First rule of a caucus-race, you know!”
Shard followed along the circle of animals just because he doesn’t have much better to do, not caring for the perfect circle path of footprints they made for themselves. “This is fucking dumb.”
“Just like that! You’ll be dry in no time!”
Shard walked along the sand, somewhat regretting how his clothes would be ruined by this excursion. That stupid cat, damn it.
And, of course, a wave washes over them, making Shard clench his teeth as he tried not to climb up the stack of rocks to try to kill the bird with his bare hands. But the slightly-smarter-than-Mr. Mittens bird was his best lead so far, so fuck it.
He was already tired from the mission and his back’s starting to hurt. So that’s something. First thing he’ll do when he gets home is take a shower, second thing is sleep like the dead, third is probably keep Mr. Mittens from leaving. Not that he wasn’t doing that already, but at least this time it’s more of stopping the fugitive cat from hurting himself.
Speaking of the fugitive cat, as another wave washed over, the little gray cat washed away with it too in a rush.
“Mr. Mittens!” Shard immediately rushed after the cat towards the beach and between the trees. Good-fucking-bye, bird!
He ducks under the leaves and branches as he follows the little blur of silver beneath the spotted sunlight. But the deeper and deeper he went, the more he was left behind by the cat.
And with just one sharp turn, Mr. Mittens has disappeared from sight. Again.
Wait. Sunlight? Was it morning already? Wasn’t it just around 8PM? Had his watch not been fucked, he probably would’ve been able to tell, but one glance made the point thay the seconds (Now hours?) were too fast and everything moved with it.
“Where the fuck did he go?” He looked around and finding some log to sit on. It’ll be hard to find him in a forest, especially in one where he has nothing to help him navigate through.
Shard just sat down to rest. He wasn’t going to get much of that later.
What’s the plan?
… There is no plan. Keep going is enough of a plan. It seems that this place was weird, but all he could think about was how it was familiar. But not. He didn’t remember anything entirely but there was almost a sense of nostalgia to it.
Looking for his stupid cat, or dumb floof, maybe even floofums to spice up the words, shouldn’t have brought his mind back to an era where he was much younger and he was constantly amazed by magic tricks and would find this situation to be comedic more than anything.
He remembered how Francis— Now Clef— would show him little magic tricks as a kid that he now realizes is probably impossible for a twelve year old to pull off on his own, but it was a long and weird history. If he asked about it, he’d be made fun of and given an unsatisfying answer. He did miss when things were simpler, but he also did like the occasional glamour of his adult life—
Something moved.
It was a small movement, some leaves and branches maybe, but not big enough to be wind. It was too isolated and he hasn’t felt anything himself.
He turned around instantly, almost instinctively taking out his gun. It probably still worked after dealing with water.
Everything was silly so far, but what if this wasn’t?
He only hoped it was Mr. Mittens.
Right when he turned again, he was greeted by two identical looking boys. Twins in school uniforms and a red propeller hat, both a perfectly kickable height. He pointed his gun at them regardless. He hadn’t clicked off safety, he just needed to threaten them because stomping on them would be enough. He was just disappointed that it was not Mr. Mittens.
“Fuck-“ Shard, they’re children! “What do you want?” Much better.
“That’s not how you greet someone!” One boy complained, waving his hands.
“We’re beginning backwards!” The other added, waving his hands too.
“The first thing you do is say…”
They continue in synch in a sing-song manner. “‘How do you do?’ and shake hands! Shake hands! Shake hands! ‘How do you do?’ and shake hands! State your name and business! That’s manners!”
Shard put away his gun upon seeing the names etched in blue on their collars. “Oh, you dummy floof…” He muttered under his breath.
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. It’s Shard in fucking Wonderland.
He smiled, at least there was relief in that this was Wonderland and there’d likely be no consequence to anything other than losing some time. It was good that it was the older movie too, if it had been the more recent one, he might’ve considered himself fucked.
“My name is classified and I’ve got to get to my cat, now if you’ll excuse me-“ Shard attempted to walk away though was blocked by the twins in front of him.
“You can’t go yet!” Tweedle Dee said.
“No! The visit’s just begun!” Tweedle Dum added.
“Would you like to play hide and seek?” They both asked as they disappeared from their spot and reappeared behind trees, far more than just two in front of him.
“Or Button, Button, who’s got the Button?”
Shard turned the other way. He was busy after all. “No thanks.”
“If you stay long enough, we might have a battle!” The two jokingly threw punches at each other with a comedic honk for every hit.
“Thank you, but I have to go-“
“Why?” They stopped him again. God damn it.
“Because I need to get to my cat.” Shard tried going the other way again, only to be stopped. Again. He could walk past them but he didn’t bother. He had manners, at least a sliver of them at the moment even if it was rude to walk out on them.
“Why?”
“Because I’m curious-“
“Oh, he’s curious. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The twins shook their head at the agent, though they didn’t let him finish his statement. He did agree to curiosity not always being a good thing as it’s often what caused injury with anomalies. Aside from pissing them off or something.
“The oysters were curious too, weren’t they?” Tweedle Dee whispered loudly to Tweedle Dum.
“And you remember what happened to them?” Tweedle Dum whispered back to Tweedle Dee.
The two cried with comically big tears falling from their eyes, holding each other by the shoulders and taking off their hats. Neither of their uniforms stained nor the grass below as the tears seemed to dry on the fall down. “Poor things…” They shook their heads in sorrow.
Several thoughts ran through Shard’s mind, most of them not going anywhere in particular. “Oysters?” He asked, ironically curious.
The two turned away from him and crossed their arms. “Oh, you wouldn’t be interested.”
“I wouldn’t say that if I wasn’t.” Well, he wasn’t, but now he was.
The two didn’t dare look as they walked away in measured pace, spinning their hats by the end of their fingers. “Oh, but you’re in much too much of a hurry!”
“I’m already here. Might as well.”
“Might as well!” The two repeated, dusting off the log for Shard to sit down on then rushing to be in front of him.
“The Walrus and The Carpenter!” Tweedle Dee announced.
“Or! The story of the Curious Oysters!” Tweedle Dum added.
When the two began to sing and dance, it was only then Shard noticed that there was always music. More than just singing (and he can recall about three songs now), there was always instrumental accompaniment with no clear source. It made things a little less awkward, sure, but it really set how much it was Wonderland.
“The sun was shining on the sea! Shining with all his might!” Tweedle Dum started.
“He did his very best to make the billows smooth and bright!” Sang Tweedle Dee.
Now he’s damn sure he’s on some sort of hallucinogen as the scene changed entirely. He’s still sitting on something but other than that, he can only conclude that a paper’s got more two sides. Still better than what Clef’s fed him in the past, complete with little “Eat me!” tags.
Shard watched a humanoid walrus wearing a waistcoat and coat be followed by a carpenter as he smoked. And the walrus sang too. Of course, he did.
“The time has come!” The walrus said. “To talk of other things! Of shoes, of ships, of sealing wax, of cabbages and kings! Why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings! Callou, callay, no work today! We’re cabbages and kings!”
The poor carpenter got cartoonishly thrown from the beach and right before the water, just enough to see into it.
Shard wondered how the hell perspective worked here and how he could see these scenes, but he thought that if he thought too much, his head might explode. Considering that it’s Wonderland, it may be a literal issue.
The carpenter lifted himself from the water and whistled to the walrus. If there were any more alliterations, maybe the poor author’s head may explode too but, alas, she’s barely a quarter of the way done. The walrus, in turn, pulled the carpenter away from the water and walked down to meet the baby oysters himself.
“Oh, oysters! Come walk with us! The day is warm and bright!” The walrus said as he tipped his top hat to them.
The mother of the oysters spoke in caution. “The sea is nice. Take my advice and stay right here.“
The walrus shut the mother close to quite her as Shard nodded with her advice, thinking it just as sound.
“The time has come, my little friends, to talk of many things! Of shoes, of ships, of sealing wax, of cabbages and kings! Why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings!”
The oysters were nowhere near true to the oysters the agent knew but he listened to the walrus as intently as the children. More out of general curiosity and maybe some amusement from the poetry.
The walrus led the oysters out of the oyster bed and played the cane like a flute, and Shard just watched the little oysters step out and walk. What he thought about it? “They’re gonna be eaten.” And for the most part, well, he had to see how the story played out first.
With speed that can only be fictional or anomalous, the carpenter pulled together scraps of a shipwreck to turn into what was assumed to be a shack or something. The outside was too small for the inside, but fuck it, it’s Wonderland.
The oysters sat at the table with the walrus at one end and the carpenter at the other.
“Ah!” The walrus made a realization. “A loaf of bread is what we truly need!”
And just as hoped, the carpenter walked away as the walrus picked two oysters in his hand. When the carpenter came back no more than seconds later, he asked the walrus “How about some pepper and salt and vinegar?”
“Splendid idea! Very good indeed!”
The walrus rubbed his hands together evilly and Shard just sat back. Whatever was happening, wherever he was, he called it in his head a mere few minutes ago.
“I weep for you.” The walrus said with a hiccup. “I deeply sympathize. For I enjoyed your company much more than you realize.”
It was only then the carpenter noticed he had eaten every one. He grabbed his hammer and chased the walrus down the beach, whatever happened next was followed by a screech.
“The end!” The twins announced as the scene returned to the forest. What?
“This is the most morbid kids’ story I’ve heard in a while.” Shard muttered under his breath, slouching forward with his elbows on his knees.
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum pointed to the sky. “Another recitation! Entitled Father William!”
Shard smiled politely as they started again but once they seemed to get their rhythm going, he booked it out of there. They didn’t seem to follow and, at this point, if they did, he’d just kick them deeper into the forest and no one would know the difference.
Luckily, no one did notice a difference.
Not the Foundation’s definition of No One, as far as he knew, but no one at all. Wait, what the fuck? He was going to come up with a lot of “What the fuck?” moments throughout the night/day/time he would be there. He’d be surprised if he didn’t.
He kept on running until he reached the edge of the dark forest to be greeted by a sweet little cottage in pink and white with a short fence of stone. If he had enough breath for a sigh of relief, he would’ve done so.
There he heard the yelling of a little white rabbit. Whoever “Mary-Anne” (or whatever spelling) was, Shard assumed they were fucked. But the white rabbit seemed to be more logical than the rest he’s met, albeit probably going to break down in a few minutes.
“Mary-Anne!” The white rabbit yelled at Shard, who had to look left and right to see if he meant him. His name wasn’t Mary-Anne, neither was it any alias he could remember. But the white rabbit meant him as he jumped up and down and waving a not-pocket-sized pocket watch in his face.
“Don’t just do something! Stand there! My gloves! At once!” The rabbit demanded as he pushed Shard in.
“Rude.” He straightened out his shirt to emphasize his point though the white rabbit likely couldn’t hear or see him at the moment, or wouldn’t bother to reply.
The agent followed up the stairs, uncomfortably close to the ceiling and floor as he was still far too tall even if he was shrunk down already. The place was rather sweet in his opinion as it was mostly red, white and pink, though he’d appreciate it more if he weren’t required to crouch around to get anywhere.
When he got up to the bedroom, he began searching for the gloves, wherever they may be. The rabbit shaped dresser, the drawers with rabbit shaped knobs, the normal night stand, everywhere else. Nothing.
Shard did, however, find a cookie jar with a rabbit carved on its lid filled all kinds of cookies decorated in different colors and flavors of icing yet all of them said “Eat me!” or some variation like “Try me!” or “Take one!”
Shard couldn’t argue with that logic so he took one for himself and ate it. He deserved it after all the shit that went down anyway. Besides, the reason mentioned is just an excuse to lack the impulse control he never possessed in the first place.
Then he started growing. Guess the potion had an opposite too.
Shard grew bigger and bigger as he went from already being uncomfortably close to the ceiling to pushing through it and falling through the floor as the house fell apart around him. He was just thankful his clothes grew with him.
In fact, it wasn’t long until the poor rabbit’s house was reduced to splinters, twigs and pebbles. Unfortunately for him.
Of course now, the white rabbit ran away screaming “Monster! Monster!“ as Shard dusted himself off, though part of his torso and legs were still stuck in what was left of the house.
“Dodo! Dodo! A monster! A monster in my house, Dodo! My poor itty bitty little house.” The little white rabbit hopped about in a panic as he tried to speak to the dodo who was only walking by on the path from the forest.
“Steady, steady, old chap.” The dodo couldn’t care less by the sound of him as he twirled his cane around.
“Oh, my poor roof and rafters! And my walls and- There it is!” The rabbit pointed towards the house, to which the dodo was less than kind in response.
“By Jove!” His eyes widened as he looked. “Jolly day it is, isn’t it?”
“Well, do something, dodo!”
“An extraordinary situation but,” the dodo commented as he tapped Shard’s shoe with his cane.
“But what?!”
He blew his nose (beak?) with a funny honk to accompany it. “But I have a very simple solution!“
Shard just watched the situation below, careful not to step on them or move too much. “How the fuck am I hearing them properly?” He quietly questioned, though they carried on with conversation just fine.
“Simply pull it out the chimney!” The dodo’s an idiot too, it seems. Well, that had already been established since he tried to say that walked around in a circle in the middle of the sea would dry him out. He could still feel the water in his boots.
Shard added as he crossed his arms, though careful not to damage the house more. “I think we’re far passed the chimney, birdy.”
They didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Go- Go, go, go on! Pull it out!” The rabbit said as he pushed the dodo towards the broken house.
“Me? Don’t be ridiculous, what we need is a…” He stroked his chin in thought as he was interrupted by some whistling elsewhere then looking there. “A lizard with a ladder!”
The two sentient animals looked to the third as the rabbit called out his name. “Bill! Bill!”
The lizard, Bill, waved his hat to greet them.
“We need a ladder with a lizard- A lizard with a ladder- Can you help?” The poor rabbit spoke faster than he could think, but he was late for whatever it was so it was expected of him. Shard just chuckled at how he reminded him of some colleagues.
“Well, milad, have you ever been down a chimney?” The dodo asked as he put his arm around the lizard’s shoulder snd guiding him to the “monster.”
“Well, guvnor, I’ve been in more chimneys than-“ Shard snickered. Oh, how his humor needed a little change. That and he was happy to be rid of his original British accent if it meant people heard him like that.
The dodo pushed him up the ladder and interrupted him. “Just get in the chimney and pull that monster out of there!”
“Right-o, guvnor— A monster?!” The lizard yelled as he jumped down the ladder and running with the dodo and the rabbit trying to hold him back. Shard just flicked him and he was flying like a firework to wherever now.
“I don’t appreciate being called a monster, thank you very much.”
The dodo hummed in thought, then lighting a match. “Perhaps we should try a more energetic remedy!”
The rabbit agreed with as many words as two seconds can fit, though none of them were properly pronounced enough to be considered a good sentence, let alone words.
“I propose that we uh…” He lights his pipe but accidentally burns the tip of his finger. “By jove! I propose that we burn the house down!”
“Burn the house- WHAT?!“
Shard just laughed though trying to stay still for the sake for the rabbit. Meanwhile the dodo was throwing around what was left of the house and bunny-shaped furniture to use as tinder and singing, much to the white rabbit’s chagrin and increasing panic.
When the dodo dropped a lit match, Shard had two choices: Get out and destroy the house or eat something in the garden and hope it works.
The second seemed kinder on the only semi-logical being in Wonderland.
As gently as he could, he went through the white rabbit’s garden of carrots. The rabbit, of course, had no plans on letting him take them. So he foolishly tried to cover the carrot to protect it, which only lead to Shard pulling up the little rabbit and the carrot.
Shard bit off the carrot and the white rabbit fell from his grasp, yelling that he’d lost his arm while it had been hidden in his sleeve. The agent couldn’t taste any blood and the rabbit seemed fine, just frazzled but otherwise himself.
Lo and behold, it fucking worked. Eating things that he probably shouldn’t have got him into this mess and got him out of it.
But it’s now another problem. As the panicky rabbit ran away to whatever appointment he’s late for, Shard found himself far too small for his liking. Even smaller than before, even.
When the dodo bird leaned down to see Shard on the floor, Shard immediately went after the rabbit, even if he was too small to properly keep up. “Do you have a match?”
“Who the fuck uses matches anymore?” Shard kept on running anyway as the dodo complained of something out of earshot.
The agent continued running as he weaved between blades of grass and the leaves, though he knew well enough that there was no chance that he’d catch up all too soon. Although… Wonderland is pretty, even in the smallest places, as he looked between the varied leaves and flowers. There was still something magical about something so small.
Maybe he just didn’t take the time to appreciate things below the tall grass. He’s always lived life rushing here and there, maybe he should start looking at the finer details.
Sure, it was dirt ground, but the way the sunbeams occasionally fell between the blades of grass. The way there was always a gentle breeze and the bit of sparkle of color somewhere between the grass, though he couldn’t quite tell what it was. Looking up was the trees and stronger winds forcing the light to dance between them. It was nice here, now that he could slow down and take a good look.
No, no, he needs his cat. Fuck nostalgia and philosophy— There’s no time for it— He just needs the one thing that’s been keeping him relatively sane between the horror show missions that kept the roof over his head. Maybe he should try to live the gold-digger life, he’s already good at being dishonest and being pretty. He’d fit right in with- He’s getting off track.
Shard’s train of thought was interrupted by little butterflies fluttering by him, as if they were flying toast and they landed neatly atop a leaf as if they were a loaf of bread.
“Huh. Butterflies.” He commented off to the side.
“Bread and butterflies.” A gentle female voice corrected.
Shard instantly turned around and gripped the knife he kept on his thigh, though not pulling it out just yet. He assumed he was alone and he should’ve been. All the more his mind raced when he couldn’t immediately see the source.
“A rocking horsefly. Hm.” It was exactly what it said on the tin. Miniature rocking horses with fly wings attached.
“Naturally.” The voice added. It sounded like an old voice, not that of an old lady per se, but that of a woman whose accent is now faded into obscurity.
Shard took another good look of the place. “Don’t tell me flowers can talk.”
“Well, of course, we can talk, my dear!” The rose spoke up as if it were a commonly known fact.
“If there was anyone worth talking to.” Said the iris.
The daisy flourished with her leaf-hand and giggled. “Or about!”
“We can sing too!” The choir of… Shard couldn’t name all the flowers, and neither was he paying too much attention to their following argument about what they’d sing.
Shard was never a fan of botany. He was studying psychology, even working on his dissertation for his hopefully upcoming doctorate. The flowers, the names of which were getting their names and colors into his memory. The author, on the other hand, is here to tell you that she thinks they’re chrysanthemums, but she’s busy watching the movie a third time to smooth over the fic.
The rose held a pine needle like a baton. (There weren’t any pine tree nearby?) “Hush now! We shall sing Golden Afternoon! It’s about all of us. Lily.” She tapped the baton. “Sound your A.”
“Laaa!”
And with that, Shard would groan if it weren’t going to disrespect them or mess with their harmony. Another fucking song? Sure it’s Wonderland but can’t there be a moment of actual conversation? At least now he could let go of the knife. They seemed harmless, if they weren’t, then it likely wouldn’t be issue.
Either way, he made himself comfortable on a small pile of leaves he had found. Since they had no visible owner, it surely would’ve been fine. Besides, the flowers would be too busy singing. Sure, he liked singing himself, even writing a few songs in private, but at least they were private.
Oh, but it was nice to listen to.
“Little bread-and-butterflies kiss the tulips!” He didn’t expect it to be so literal though. It was rather sweet to watch, however.
“And the sun is like a toy balloon!”
“There are get up in the morning glories in the golden afternoon!” How the author was supposed to pace the morning glories stretching as if awoken, she didn’t know, but she’s got a fic to speedrun.
“There are dizzy daffodils on the hillside, strings of violets are all in tune, tiger lilies love the dandelions the golden afternoon!”
Shard supposed it was a refreshing change in music, having only heard it in movies that he rarely indulged in outside of whatever Mr. Mittens seemed to enjoy watching.“There are dog and caterpillars and the copper centipede, where the lazy daisies love the very peaceful life they lead...”
You can learn a lot of things from the flowers for especially in the month of June. There's a wealth of happiness and romance all in the golden afternoon.”
That reminded him, was it afternoon already? How time flew, or how fucked his sense of time is.
Shard hummed quietly, not planning to join in their song but he did take note to at least be conscious with what note it was. He was comfortable in baritone which was rather far off from what he assumed was a group of sopranos and altos.
The lyrics seemed to have ended for the moment but the song continued. Oh, if only this scene could be properly put into words smoothly. Seemed not all the flowers sang, in fact many acted as instruments. Huh.
The flowers looked to Shard to continue so he silently thanked his family’s love of music. “You can learn a lot of things from the flowers.” The baritone joined. “For especially in the month of June.”
“There’s a wealth of happiness and romance. All…”
The flowers continued for him. “In the golden afternoon!“ Naturally, it came with a colorful flourish of instrumental.
What a fuckin’ Disney movie moment.
The white-petaled flower piped up as she took a closer look at Shard. “What kind of garden do you come from?”
“I don’t-“
“Do you suppose he’s a wildflower?” The flower pushed at the iris, who was less than interested.
“I’m not-“
The rose put her leaf onto Shard’s shoulder. “Just what specie or, say, genus are you, my dear?”
“Strictly classified, darling.” He smiled back. Finally, they let him finish. They asked for his name, he thought, and he was sure they had no interest in an answer as plain as homo sapien. Homosexual however…
“Have you ever seen a Classified with a blossom like that?”
Shard didn’t know if it was insult or not, but he chuckled at the idea that they understood Classified as a name rather than what it was. He didn’t bother to correct them either since he knew better than to tell them Simon Glass.
“Come to think of it, have you ever seen a Classified?” Shard hoped the iris would stay out of it as he was more than familiar with the tone of a condescending old woman.
“Yes…” The daisy pointed to Shard’s black clothing. “And did you notice his petals? Why, he looks decayed!”
“And no fragrance.” The agent turned around to the iris trying to sniff him. Cologne didn’t do well on missions, he knew that much.
“And look at those stems!” His legs, apparently, as the white flower pointed at them.
“Rather scrawny, I’d say.” Fuck the iris! He worked hard on that! Maybe it was the way he was dressed, he’ll allow that much, but it still hurt!
“I think he’s pretty!“ A child’s voice spoke up. A bud, he assumed. He did smile a little bit; Children were at least honest. Sometimes brutally so, but when they say you’re pretty, you’re pretty.
“Ladies, I’m not a flower.” Shard corrected gently, looking up to others for once.
“Aha!” The iris whispered to the rose with not much discretion as the others leaned in. “He’s nothing but a common Overlay Bulgaris!”
“Oh no!” The entire garden exclaimed, some covering their mouths with their leaves.
“A what?” Shard never enjoyed botany. Or biology. Beyond the joke that he knew it well for… Other purposes. Researchers weren’t pleased with that joke and/or pick up line.
“To put it bluntly.” He could’ve sworn the iris spat at him if she could. “A weed.”
“I’m not marijuana.” Shard honestly felt insulted as he glared back. He knew what they meant but he might as well poke fun into it.
“Well, you wouldn’t expect him to admit it!” The daffodil looked to the flowers behind her, though Shard could still hear her very well.
“Goodness!”
“Don’t let him stay here!”
“We don’t want weeds in our bed!“ The choir of chrysanthemums were disgusted even.
“Move along, move along!” The other flowers attempted to push him out, some even making trumpet noises to his face but he stood his ground regardless, even grabbing one of the petals of the one closest to him and ripping it off to prove a point. Much to the horror of everyone else.
“Learn a lot of things from the flowers? You’re fucking racist, that’s one!” Fucking weeds. He’s not a weed, he’s not a plant at all! And who were they to make the assumption!
If they were human, they’d disrespect ducks, that’s for sure. Much more than ducks, but mostly ducks.
Well. The definition of a “weed” is a wild plant growing in competition of cultivated plants, said the Merriam-Webster Dictionary. So Shard was just doing the panicky rabbit a favor by maintaining his not-so-lovely garden. Starting with the rose who shouldn’t have gone to prose.
Flowers don’t really bleed. They only seemed to scream, but it’s nothing he’s unfamiliar with; It was just inconvenient. Thankfully he found the time to sharpen his knife for once and he may need to find time to sharpen it again, but hopefully not anytime soon.
Not his fault their stems were easy to cut up.
Every flower was one swift movement followed by the sobbing of the rest, then he just ran to whoever made the most noise, grabbed them somewhere to hold them taut and another swift movement until they joined the other fallen petals on the dirt floor. Sometimes he’d be lucky and they were close enough that it’d be more than one at a time.
It took probably ten minutes, maybe fifteen or maybe twenty until silence was the only thing that could be heard. Shard’s boots would step over a carpet of petals almost unnaturally quietly as he took one last look around.
The lilacs, dandelions, tiger lillies and daffodils. The roses, the tulips, the daisy, the violets and the lillies of the valley (or lily of the valleys?)… Seemed like everyone. Whoever he may have left behind on accident wouldn’t cause issue.
“If any of you are still alive…” He ground the heel of his boot into deep purple petals. “I might, just might, spare you. That is if you say now and I don’t have to look for you.”
Not a sound except for the bread and butterflies floated and fluttered by him.
Satisfied with his work, he grabbed one of the bread and butterflies from the air, pulled it apart to get himself two pieces of toast and bit into the corner of one with a crunch. It’s just the way he liked it too and the butter added the little extra flavor it needed. So he grabbed another one from the air and split it too so it wouldn’t float away, however he did have to keep the other piece between his teeth to get it. Not exactly proper table manners, but fuck it.
The others fluttered away in a panic but he only needed the four pieces to be happy. He needed to eat something, you know. He still grabbed another set of wings, just to be sure.
Shard only had a little potion, cookies and a carrot in the last hour or so that he was around and it’s been even longer since he had a decent meal. And the bread-and-butterflies seemed edible. Hopefully there’d be some jelly beans somewhere, or some candy corn, or whatever food thing was around.
The agent sat down on the floor, tore off some of the rose petal to put on the bread and munched away at the bread-and-butterflies. He wasn’t exactly a connoisseur, but good idea or not, he’d probably eat it anyway.
Sure, it’s probably not hygenic to just eat without washing his hands after doing some “gardening” and everything else, but it’s likely nothing to worry about. Likely.
Nonetheless, he needed to get a move on. Maybe if he ate something else, he’d grow to a manageable size.
But fuck it, Mr. Mittens can wait a few more minutes. Besides, laying on a bed of flower petals was rather comfortable, regardless of what horrific action made it happen. His watch couldn’t tell the time nor know it, so the best guess he had was that he’s been awake for at least 18 hours. Maybe. Or maybe time didn’t work at all since he never seemed to find himself exhausted.
Psst! Hey!
Reader!
It’s a pretty long one shot, and you’re about half way done. Take a break, get some water, get yourself some tea (Only herbal tea if it’s the evening) or some bread-and-butterflies.
“Why didnt you split it into chapters”
bc im stupid n i did this on notes like yk an idiot with no sense of self control n only brainrot
just make sure to come back in a few minutes I need the kudos and comments please i need the attention i need the reassurance i need compliments i need love ineed
Good? Got your rest? Back to the story!
As he finished the last of his toast, he noticed colored letters above the grass like they were wisps of smoke.
“Fuck is that?”
The agent stood up to read the letters with no comprehensible word that can be made from them. It really was just a string of colors more than much else but he followed it anyway, looking up the entire time and walking slowly as he guided himself between the blades of grass. Maybe there’d be someone useful for once at the end of it. If there was smoke, there surely was flame.
Shard followed it to the sound of singing, more of a lazy male voice reciting odd vowels with some melody and music out of nowhere. At least by that he can confirm it wasn’t one of the flowers though part of him was tempted to waste his lighter on them.
As he pushed through a few blades of grass, he was met by a caterpillar on… something. Probably drugs and, at this point, he was not surprised but he expected as much. Whatever he was holding, he was damn sure it’s called a hookah. He was somehow mesmerized by him, so he just watched until he noticed.
“Who are you?” The caterpillar questioned, blowing letters of smoke to Shard’s face who was less than enthused about it. His patience was already thin from the flowers.
So, out of spite, Shard lit his own cigarette. He needed one at this point anyway, drug caterpillar or no drug caterpillar. It was a miracle that it stayed dry after the hell it went through in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to question.
“Who. Are. You?” The caterpillar punctuated every word with a cloud of red “O R U” smoke to Shard’s face, who blew some of his own gray smoke back albeit much thinner in the air.
“That’s classified.”
He demanded though still sounded as mellow yet irritated as a second ago. Shard just wished he didn’t drag out his words so much. “Explain yourself.”
“I don’t know. Ligma.”
“I do not know.” The caterpillar reiterated. “What is this Ligma you speak of?”
Shard took a long, long drag of his cigarette before replying in complete deadpan and staring him dead in the eye. “Ligma balls.”
“You… Disgust me…” The caterpillar inched away from the agent as his words dragged out, while the agent was quite proud of his humorous response.
“Disgust you or not, I’m looking for- You know what. Who. Are. You?” Shard wasn’t going to take anything seriously anymore.
“Why?” A blue Y floated into the air with another puff of smoke.
“I told you who I am.” A fair point, but the blue caterpillar was too busy inching up its hopefully-none-sentient plant.
“Recite.” He demanded, slowing his word at the e and nearly rolling his r.
“Recite? Fuck it, fine- What’d Clef say this morning?“ He took in a breath, dropping the butt of his cigarette on the ground. “Step into my parlor, said the spider-“
“Stop!” The caterpillar stepped off the leaf of the plant. “That’s not spoken correcitically.” Not a typo, just the caterpillar’s odd way of saying things.
Shard huffed as he was interrupted. “‘Kay then, fuck you, you do it.”
The caterpillar isn’t so far off the theme of others in Wonderland, so he knew he wouldn’t get far anywhere besides poetry and song. He knew Mr. Mittens struggled with rhymes so he wondered why, but again, this is Wonderland. Everything that is is now not, and everything not now is, except for Not, which stayed untouched, as for Is, he didn’t know much about.
The caterpillar took in another puff of smoke as Shard found himself a seat for his own.
“It goes…”
“How-“ The caterpillar eyes widened at the lack of smoke, shaking the end of the hookah to try to get more out of it, to no avail.
Pointing out that two of of the bug’s supposedly free hands were holding onto the line tightly was something Shard didn’t bother to say. It’d be funnier that way.
It took the caterpillar another minute to shoo away his own hands with a light smack. He cleared his throat and started again, this time the smoke colored pink and moving as if the caterpillar was narrating its actions.
“How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail?”
“And pour the waters of the Nile on every golden scale.” And just like that, little “golden scales” of smoke appeared with a little bell ringing to each.
“How cheer-“ The caterpillar had interrupted himself again and it was clear with the frown that his patience grew ever thinner as the last pair of legs fell off the leaf he sat on, much to Shard’s amusement. The caterpillar, of course, dragged the end of his legs back onto the plant. He’d like to finish his recitation, thank you very much, and the agent stifling laughter was not at all helpful.
He laid back as he continued. “How cheerfully he seems to grin, how neatly spread his claws, and welcomes little fishies in with gently smiling jaws.”
“That’s not The Spider and The Fly.” Shard corrected, the moral remaining the same but otherwise, it was just as morbid.
“I know.” Another puff of smoke to Shard’s face. “I have improved it.”
The agent fanned it away with his hand, stepping aside as he continued with his own cigarette.
“I’m just saying-“
“You?” Another U, and the following letters with frustration laced in each word. “Who. Are. You?”
Shard pressed the hot end of the dying cigarette to the caterpillar who instantly jumped away at the pain. “I already told you!”
Whether he meant that it was classified or Ligma, he was going to leave up for interpretation.
There was just a huff from the caterpillar who now made sure to keep his distance. “You know, I had something important to tell you.”
“If you don’t know shit about my cat, then don’t bother.”
The caterpillar ignored him anyway. “Keep. Your. Temper.”
Shard rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”
“Exactically, what is your problem?”
“I lost my cat, ended up here. Looking for my cat. First, I need to not be three inches tall.”
The caterpillar stood tall and turned a bright red as he raised his voice at the unamused and unaffected agent. “I am exactically three inches! And this is a very good height indeed!”
The caterpillar hurriedly puffed smoke, covering himself in gray rather than the usual colorful pigment he had shown throughout the rest of it.
“And I’m eighty one inches normally! I would fuckin’ step on you and not know the difference!”
With the last word, the smoke blew away and the caterpillar was gone. Its skin now hollow like dirty clothes and gloves and shoes left behind.
Shard looked up. If anything disappears and you can’t immediately see it, what horror movies taught him is that you should look up. Horror movies were right, except it wasn’t a terrifying monster; it was just a butterfly. Unfortunately, not the bread-and-butterflies he had consumed not too long ago.
“I have a few more helpful hints!” Yelled the butterfly from above. “One side will make you grow taller, and one side will make you grow smaller!”
“The other side of what?”
The butterfly rushed to be inches of Shard’s face and fuming red. “The mushroom, of course!”
Again, the agent couldn’t give a shit, more so when the butterfly flew away to somewhere he couldn’t find him. Good.
Shard looked behind him to the plain white mushroom. He wouldn’t describe himself as overjoyed that the solution to everything was just eating, but the grin on his face as he tore off some pieces of the mushroom spoke otherwise. Food’s good and nothing in Wonderland has disappointed him just yet.
“So… Which side- Fuck it. Who gives a shit anyway?”
He pocketed the other pieces in his jacket and bit one. It tasted like a mushroom, unsurprisingly, but right after he had swallowed, he grew a little bigger than 6’9.
Well. More of 60’9 as he was now taller than the trees around him. However he was now stuck with a disgruntled mother bird and her nest sat on his head.
“A serpent! Help! Help! A serpent!” The screaming was not that kind on Shard, but he understood that it was reasonable.
“I’m not a serpent!” Why does No One here have any concept of what a human is? For fuck’s sake.
“Not a serpent?” The bird flew around him though it felt like a fly was talking to him. “Then what are you?”
“I’m just-“
“Well, I don’t suppose you eat eggs, do you?”
What is it with everyone interrupting him?
“Well, yes but-“
“Just what I thought! Serpent! Serpent!”
Just because he has familial ties to the Serpent’s Hand doesn’t mean he was one of them himself! And being Clef’s cousin had nothing to do with it either!
Shard bit the other mushroom to make himself smaller. He would’ve grabbed the bird and killed her there, but that would’ve been a little too mean of him. She had only been annoying.
Well, now he shrunk back to three inches.
“Fucking hell…”
He looked between the two pieces in his hands and wondered if it was a case of dosage, so he just licked the one that made him bigger. To his mild surprise and not, he became the right size. Exactly six feet and nine inches.
Now he was in the middle of a forest with a tangle of paths with signs that said pointless things like “Up”, “Down”, “This way” and “That way.” Great.
Shard looked up and there was no sky to be seen, but everything seemed lit up just enough to read but he couldn’t see far.
THERE’S ANOTHER FUCKER SINGING.
Shard snapped towards the sound of another voice when he assumed he was alone. Colored lights went between the leaves and trees, but with no clear source. As for the voice, he couldn’t tell what he was saying as it echoed through but there was definitely a tune to it. And soft instrumental joining in.
“Lose something?”
When he saw a familiar smile, without a second thought, he punched the shit out of it.
The owner of the unwelcomed smile fell backwards behind the branch it stayed on, landing in the bushes below with a rustle.
“Awfully rude of you.” The purple cat commented, his paw-hand holding his face. Unfortunately, still not Mr. Mittens. “I’m the Cheshire Cat.” He said as his teeth sounded out few notes on a harmonica and disappeared and reappeared on the branch he had just appeared on.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He’s willing to punch the cat again. “I’m lookin’ for my cat. Which way do I go?”
“Well. That depends. On where you wanna get to.” The cat back legs floated up and the paw-hands gestured for him as his front kept him steady.
“Nowhere, I just need to find a little gray cat by by the name Mr. Mittens.”
“Then it really doesn’t matter which way you go.” The cat gracefully floated down the branch and faded, though left some tracks on the floor as he walked, one paw marked to Shard’s left and another to his right. Impossible or possible, it was so very Clef.
“Oh by the way,” the Cheshire Cat floated up to the branch of another tree. “If you’d really like to know. He went,” he took a moment to point “That way.”
“Mr. Mittens did?”
“Did what?”
“Go that way?”
“Who went that way?”
“But. You know what…” His thoughts wandered. He’s been waiting for something like this a while now.
“Can you stand on your head?” The cat couldn’t get an answer as Shard threw another punch at him, making him fall apart like a stack of blocks on another bush as Shard walked along.
“If I were looking for a gray cat, I’d ask the Mad Hatter.” He pointed away to the sign saying the name.
If the Cheshire Cat was Clef, the Mad Hatter was Bright. Not bright, but Bright.
“Or… The March Hare.” He pointed to the other sign.
If the Cheshire Cat was Clef, the Mad Hatter was Bright, not bright, then the March Hare is probably Kondraki. Or himself.
“Of course, he’s mad too.”
Shard huffed as his arms found themselves crossed. He expected as much from the not-so-stupid cat and the nonsense world around him.
“Oh, you can’t help that. Everyone’s mad here!” The Cheshire Cat laughed nearly identical to another, though with much less malice. “You may have noticed, I’m not all there myself-“
Before the cat could go on with his disappearing act again, Shard grabbed him from the branch and stomped on him. He disappeared into a lavender puff of smoke right as he felt the boot hitting little more than fur but at least he’s gone. He could’ve sworn that he could actually smell a hint of lavender.
Shard just sighed, wishing that he could’ve gotten rid of the magic cat, which was now… Well. Probably not dead but likely somewhere else.
Regardless, he followed the long and winding path. It seemed to just follow wherever there was space between the trees, but the deathly silence was both comforting and eerie. He’d rather the silence than noise. He’d rather be alone but the thought that he wasn’t was still running through his head every so often.
Go here, go there, it felt like the forest was different than the one by the coast. He knew it was the exact same forest but there was something different. Not odd, more of… He wasn’t sure if the sun had been thinking of setting soon or if it were the change in leaves, if they had changed at all, or maybe it was something else?
Is there something whistling?
Not whistling from a person, like… Something. Oh, dear author is tired, but that doesn’t matter, the agent followed the noise, trying to stick to the path as much as he could. Who knows? It might move, or the trees will, or something will sweep it away with a broom. It’s hard to tell anymore and with Shard’s previous experience with anomalies, guessing is pretty much all that can be done until something is proven. Until it changes again, of course.
And something changed! Well, the scenery did, but he could assume it was always there when he saw a cloud of steam above lines and lines of whistling teapots.
The little white painted gate of the Mad Hatter greeted him, though instead of just stepping over it, he did take the care to actually open it even if it was only up to his thigh.
For a short while, he watched the teapots whistle along the song as the steam filled the air around them. If anything, this place just gave him nostalgia for things he didn’t remember. Maybe because it was similar to the magic tricks he watched growing up.
He almost hadn’t noticed the little cottage in the background, it likely belonged to the Mad Hatter, or he assumed would be the mad hatter.
If he had a dollar for every song he heard, he’d be a richer man. If he lost a piece of his mind for every song he heard, maybe he’d guess the lyrics and sing along.
“A very very unbirthday to me!” The hare sang.
“To who?” The Hatter sipped his tea.
“To me!
“Oh you!”
It seemed the two bounced off each other in song like conversation and conversation like song, dancing with no care for the spilling tea but it never seemed to run out their cups.
“A very very unbirthday to you!”
“Who, me?
“Yes, you!”
“Oh me!”
“Let’s congratulate us with another cup of tea!” They look like pals. Good for them.
“A very merry unbirthday to!”
Some flutes (Teapots?) sang out in threes right at the end while the March Hare opened one to pick up a well-dressed mouse.
“Tooooooo youuuuuuu!!!”
Upon seeing Shard at the end of the song, the three immediately ran to him yelling that there was no room. The table was far too long for three and could easily fit at least ten more, but fuck logic anyway.
“There’s plenty of room?”
“Ah, but it’s rude to sit down without being invited!” The March Hare told him, which was reasonable enough. At least he wasn’t like Dr. Kondraki. That’d be another mess entirely.
“I’ll say it’s rude! It’s very, very rude indeed!”
“Very, very, very rude indeed!” The mouse added softly.
“I’m terribly sorry.” Shard scooted a little in his seat to get comfortable. “Uh… The song’s nice? Pardon me for intruding on your birthday party.”
“Oh, what a delightful man! I’m so excited! We never get compliments!” That’s all it took?
The March Hare poured out a cup of tea, a saucer and cup falling out of the teapot too.
“This is an Unbirthday Party!” The hatter corrected as he poured tea through his sleeves.
“Huh?” Shard took a sip. Fuck it if the source was questionable, tea is tea and he liked it with a little honey.
The March Hare tried to work out his thoughts, but in the end they laughed that Shard had no clue what an Unbirthday was.
Another goddamn song…
“You have only one birthday a year, but there are 364 unbirthdays!”
Wouldn’t that be a non-birthday?
“Precisely why we’re gathered here to cheer!”
“So…” Shard thought too long for his own taste as he leaned against the table. “It’s my unbirthday too?”
“It is?! What a small world this is!” No, Mad Hatter, it’s not, Shard would’ve corrected, but there’s no way they would’ve known that it wasn’t his birthday.
“In that case!”
And the song started up again. Shard planned on kicking the hare until it could no longer march and the hatter until he was more than mad, but the tea was good so he kept his cool.
“A very, very unbirthday!”
“To me?” Fuck it.
“To you!”
“A very merry unbirthday!”
Shard was handed a cake. Okay, maybe now he’ll excuse the singing. “For me?”
“For you!”
“Now, blow the candle out, my dear, and make your wish come true!”
Why’s the candle sparkling and why is there a drumroll?
They’re fireworks. Fuck.
Shard immediately dropped the cake and took a couple steps back, though the other two continued singing as the firework whistled. “A verryyyyy merryyyy unbirthdayyyy toooo youuuu!!!”
At least the explosion of color was rather nice.
From the fireworks above, the little mouse gently floated down into a teapot with an umbrella in his coat to catch his fall. Whatever slurred words he was saying, the agent couldn’t quite tell, and neither was he all that interested in knowing.
“And now my dear.” The Mad Hatter dipped his saucer into his tea, a few drops splashing onto the agent’s sleeve, then he bit the plate. Shard just wondered if the plate tasted any good but, lucky or unlucky, there weren’t any close to him.
“You were saying that you would like to- Pardon.” He took another bite off the saucer. “You were seeking information of some kind?”
Shard was absentmindedly handed a cup of tea by the March Hare. “Yes, yes, I’m looking-“
“Clean cup! Clean cup! Move down!” The Mad Hatter tried to drag Shard further down the table before he could get a sip of the tea, but he got himself at least one sip before moving along. Unfortunately, the agent had been far too tall and being dragged around by the hand led him to further hate the back problems that came with his body.
The March Hare, on the other hand, was throwing cups left and right as he followed the two to the other end of the long table. Whether or not the cups were getting damaged or whatever Wonderland logic stopped them from getting chipped and cracked, was going to be another thing strictly confined to this world.
Three cups were then filled by a tall teapot with three spouts. “Would you like some more tea?“ Offered the Hatter.
“Haven’t had a drink of any kind since I got here, so yeah.” The man (only now realizing he was the only human, he didn’t count the twins for obvious reason) tried to pour himself another cup with a spoutless blue teapot, then the hare picked it up for him and cracked it like an egg into the cup. He assumed it would’ve worked without a spout, but that also made sense in that it didn’t and did.
“Something seems to be troubling you!” The hatter mentioned with a loud sip of tea right after. “Why don’t you tell us all about it?”
“Start from the beginning!” Said the hare as he laid down on the table.
“Yes, yes! And when you come to the end,” the hatter giggled, “Stop!”
Shard downed majority of the cup of tea, not realizing how thirsty he had been. He cleared his throat as he pulled together some story that wouldn’t miss the point of his job as a Disinformation agent.
“Well, I was out, looking for something to do, getting bitches maybe. With Mr. Mittens, of course.”
“Verrrry interesting!” The hare raised his cup and took a sip then interrupting himself. “Who’s Mr. Mittens?”
“Mr. Mittens is my cat-“
“Cat?!” The mouse instantly popped out of the teapot he sat in and ran around, running into every cup and teapot and jar of sugar, making the other two try to chase after him with a path of destruction behind.
“Get the jam! Get the jam! Put it on his nose!” The hare yelled to Shard as he held down the mouse. The agent only needed to look to his left and there was some jam, why he had to put it on his nose but fuck it.
And just with a bit of jam, the mouse calmed down into the teapot then the lid on top finished the scene.
“My goodness! Those are the things that upset me!“ The hatter put his hands on his waist.
“Did you see all the trouble you started?!” The hare was no more pleased, but it was understandable.
“Clean cup! Move down! Move down!”
Just like that, they calmed down. Huh. “And now, my dear, as you were saying?”
Shard cleared his throat again. “I was going around with… You know who.”
“I do?!” The Mad Hatter laughed some more.
“I mean my C-A-T.”
“Tea?!” Did the hatter only think about tea?
The March Hare, on the other hand, sliced a cup in half with a butter knife for the hatter to pour into. “Just half a cup, if you don’t mind.”
“Now, would you care for some tea?”
“Well, yes, I would like some.”
“If you don’t care for tea, you could at least make for polite conversation!” The hare took a sip from his half cup.
“Dumbass, I-“
“I’ve got an excellent idea! Let’s change the subject!”
Shard smashed a tea cup onto the Mad Hatter. Murder is probably legal here, that is, if it can be done at all. The flowers felt like exception, but it’s nothing a little determination can’t fix.
The Mad Hatter didn’t seem too affected. “Why is a raven like a writing desk?”
“Why is a raven like a writing desk…” Shard muttered the question to himself as the gears in his head turned.
“I beg your pardon?!” Does he only yell?
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” Shard repeated to clarify himself which, for some reason, horrified the two into holding each other out and shaking out of fear.
“He’s ravin’ mad!” The march hare pointed a shaky finger to Shard, who just crossed his arms and pursed his lips.
“It’s your fuckin’ riddle!”
The hatter picked up a chair like a weapon and the hare hid in his so-desperate-for-repair green hat. “How about a nice cup of tea?”
The fact that Shard had now stood up and stepped closer with towering height and less than friendly face probably solidified the fear. It’s fine, some people found it hot.
“I’d love to, I really would but I just don’t have the time.” He purred as if it were apology, though it was more of gentle warning. He’s never flipped a table before and well, there’s a first time for everything.
“The time! The time!” The hare yelled out. “Who’s got the time?”
“No no no no! No time! No time!” The white rabbit rushed in with his oversized pocket watch. “Hello! Goodbye! I’m late! I’m late!”
The hatter grabbed the watch out of the rabbit’s hands as he fell backwards. “Well, no wonder you’re late! Why, this clock is exactly two days slow!”
“Of course you’re late!” He dipped it into tea. “My goodness! We’ll have to look into this!” The pocket watch found itself broken open on the table as it was torn apart by the hatter. Shard didn’t notice himself cringe in the slightest as he began collecting watches himself, and none of them were all that cheap, even with the Foundation’s generous pay.
He could almost feel pity for the poor rabbit. If it weren’t a little funny to see him panicky, that is.
As the Mad Hatter continued to spread butter and pour tea on the hopeless inner workings of the watch, Shard took the opportunity to get himself some tea. It wasn’t water but close enough. With a little bit of honey just so it isn’t so sad.
When the hatter slammed his handiwork close, it immediatelt began getting up as if it had a life of its own. Jumping left and right, opening, closing. And the rest of them shouted in panic.
Shard shot at it. One clean gunshot straight through its center then it was back to tea for him. It was odd how it didn’t echo through the forest, but whatever. He’s tired of their shit anyway.
“Oh…” The rabbit teared up. “And it was an unbirthday gift…”
The two threw him out as they sang an unbirthday song.
Shard took the opportunity to drink some more tea and leave. He had a Mr. Mittens to attend to after all.
He followed the path out and brought out a flashlight in the now dimming forest. A partially broken wooden sign told him “Tulgey Wood”, but any direction will work, he supposed. There always seemed to be something sentient to know something.
He felt something was watching him, but when he turned around to look. Nothing. Never ignore your gut.
The white light of the flashlight was both comforting but eerie. It was a cold light in the already dark forest, but anything it shined at was purely another leaf and branch. But there was something there. There had to be.
Anything that did move startled him to shine the flashlight to it, but it moved away just as quick beneath the underbrush. At least it ran away. If anything sentient were to pass by, maybe he’d ask them a few questions. If need be, threats were doable. And so was seduction. If there were humans. He’s not a monster fucker, and also he wasn’t sure if they’d like him like that.
Either way, if Mr. Mittens is in the forest, he best hurry. And he might be the only thing to go to him, assuming that he has the capacity to tell which direction sound is coming from.
“Mr. Mittens! Mr. Mittens, where’d you go?”
He tried to think of something that would at least grab his attention, but saying Mr. Mittens was probably enough. Surely there wasn’t another Mr. Mittens. He missed him. A lot.
“Mr. Mittens!”
Nothing. Not a sound from anything. Nor movement. Not even the rush of wind to accompany him, nor the stars above to tell him directions. That is assuming he knew how to navigate with the stars successfully.
Sigh.
Shard sat on the conveniently placed rock. It’s gotten dark and it’s no time to be in the forest. But it’s been tiring. Maybe now it’s been catching up to him. He availed himself of another cigarette. Time always went faster when he had one in his hand, and every time he had to wait assuming he had time for one, he didn’t. Maybe supersition is what’d bring him home.
Oh, where the hell are you, Mr. Mittens? You stupid, stupid cat. You stupid ball of floof. Idiot floofums. Dummy fluff. Never a thought in that empty head.
Something’s laughing.
It’s the fucking cat. Not Mr. Mittens either.
“Did you expect Mr. Mittens, perchance?” A good dialogue tag here would be that he purred, but that’d imply something different.
“You better be careful with your words before I get my fuckin’ lighter.”
“Oh?”
“So. Where’s my fucking cat?” No sly smile, no patient polite tone, no taunts, just. Frustration. Where is Mr. Mittens?
“Now, now. You can’t find your way to him because you have no way.” He seemed so nonchalant about it. Shard is only trying to keep it together just to hear out whatever logic he may have. As much as he hates it, the cat knows more than he does. “All ways here you say are the queen’s ways.” He reminded as if it were common sense.
“Fuck am I supposed to know? I never met the queen.”
“You haven’t? You haven’t?! Oh, but you must! She’ll be mad about you! Simply mad!”
Shard muttered. “Anyone who likes men seem to do that…”
The Cheshire Cat laughed. “Some go this way,” he pointed left, “Some go that way,” he pointed right. But I prefer the shortcut.”
The cat pulled the tree branch like it was a lever and, just like that, there was a door to a daylit path lined with hedges towards a castle. The cat was nowhere to be seen when he looked around again. Good. Cheshire Clef Bastard Fucker Cat should stay out of his way.
Unfortunately, it’s been a tight fit to get through the little door. The agent had to crawl through to the other side, but at least there was sunlight and the flashlight could live a little longer to save him another day.
Once he got through, well, it was a hedge maze of squiggles and lines. He should’ve expected it, but seeing that he was tall enough to simply look over it, he did. It was hardly helpful though so he followed the sound of whistling.
More singing?
Painting the roses red?
Okay, this part of the story was at least partially familiar.
The sound lead to cards with human parts, card guards he assumed, or knights or whatever they’re called. And they were painting the white roses red on heart shaped bushes.
They were clovers, an ace, deuce and trey. At least some memory of his cards would prove useful, at least that’s what he had hoped. It at least made him feel partially smart for knowing terms that were useless outside of very specific situations.
He just picked up a spare bucket and brush. This was probably the only time his height was a good thing as he didn’t need a ladder to reach much, at most maybe a tiptoe as he helped paint the roses red.
Then the sound of fanfare arrived. The Queen of Hearts, he assumed.
By that point, he returned the brush and bucket of paint behind a bush as he didn’t want to be seen guilty of anything. Maybe she knew something about Mr. Mittens.
As the agent looked around, lines and lines of red cards followed down the hedge maze in perfect unison as the black cards scrambled to finish their work and hide the evidence. They had done a poor job, but it wasn’t for him to judge. He was an expert at hiding shit after all, but he had no plans on making use of it. It’s too late anyway.
Lines and lines of cards, black and red, entered the open center of the maze. It had been far too many for a deck but they all carried a spear with the corresponding symbol of their suit as the end. It was almost mesmerizing how they alternated in patterns, yet made the same movements as they all marched into place. They had even shuffled themselves!
“Caaards! Halt!”
And just like that, they all formed a perfect heart around the three cards and himself. Shard, unlike the three, stood proudly. He had no reason to bow to a queen he did not serve. Besides, he had other plans. Because it’d be funny. But first he needed to look confident enough to pull it off.
The white rabbit had joined them, dashing to the end of the line as he held a trumpet for fanfare. “Her Imperial Highness! H-her Grace! Her Excellency! Her Royal Majesty! The Queen of Hearts!” The poor rabbit seemed another breath from fainting.
And applause rang through from no clear source as the queen had walked in, one hand holding up her skirt and the other holding a heart shaped fan. Red, black, white and some yellow all matched together on a large dress that would only find itself fit best in a world like Wonderland. Shard didn’t agree with the yellow but couldn’t comment.
He watched a man shorter than his knee tug and a crown half his size on the white rabbit’s shirt, to which he responded with an exasperated “And the king.” He had no memory of a king of hearts but then again, he didn’t remember much at all. At least the little guy looks decent.
All seemed well until the queen stomped past Shard towards one of the bushes, complete with fitting music in the background. One of the roses weren’t painted fully.
“Hmph! Who’s been painting my roses red?” She snarled. “WHO’S BEEN PAINTING MY ROSES RED?!”
The bush was lifted off the ground by the end and shook until much of the wet paint simply flew off and stained the grass. A drop had found its way to Shard’s face which he unamusedly wiped off with two fingers, still standing tall with hands behind his back. He has to look presentable at least.
“Who dares to paint, the vulgar paint, the royal flower bed! For painting my roses red! Someone will lose his head!”
Shard watched as the cards in front of him painted the blame onto each other. The Ace, Deuce and Trey.
“Off with their heads!“ The queen announced to thunderous applause. It was almost grim how the other cards happily sang as the three were dragged away to their death.
“And who is this?!” The queen pointed towards Shard.
“Well, well, uh, let me see, my dear!” The king scurried over to Shard. “It certainly isn’t a heart!” The black and white hair made that much clear, and the lack of a flat body. “Do you suppose it’s a club?”
“Why…” The queen took a closer look at him. “He’s a man!”
He bowed in response, taking her hand with the most delicate touch and gently pressing a kiss to it. “If I may be so bold, your majesty, you’re a divine sight.” He sneaked a glance back up to her and donned a sly smile at the sight.
Shard recalled the movie best he could, though it had been roughly years since he last saw it. Maybe he should’ve added it to the list when he was watching with Doodle the other day.
But of course, no one could forget the Queen of Hearts.
That’s about it. He didn’t remember much else of what she did beyond the whole “Off with your heads” thing. So he might as well keep her in a good mood. She seemed one weak to flattery, considering that everything she decrees is applauded and her temper was short. Maybe she could be friends with Kondraki.
“Now, where did you come from?” She asked, taking her hand back with a smile and blush. “And where are you going?“
Shard was significantly taller than she was, being able to look down on her but that didn’t prove to be issue. “I’m trying to find my way to-“
“Your way?!” She yelled as if he had told her something along the lines of wishing her death. “All ways here are my ways!”
Shard stood still, almost entirely unaffected. At most, he glanced away from her, but a little purr to his words is all he needed to calm her. “Of course, your majesty,” a little lean closer “You can have any way with me as you’d like.”
Then a kiss as light as a feather to her cheek, as he kicked away the king who was understandably a little upset to see a stranger flirting with his wife.
Though he preferred to keep his head, no matter what happens.
The queen giggled slightly, even turning a welcome shade of pink as she heard the offer. “Well then.” A little heart seemed to float into the air. “Do you play croquet?”
“I do, and many other games too.”
He, in fact, did not play croquet. Nor many other games.
“THEN LET THE GAME BEGIN!”
The white rabbit ran as he fanfare continued, everyone scrambling to get into place. The king even “yelling” out orders in his little voice. The cards were shuffled and dealt, the brightly colored flamingos moved into place as the respective clubs and the white rabbit pushed the bag into place for the queen.
She picked out the yellow one and held it by its legs as it tried to fly away, then straightened it out until it was shaped like a club with no intention to move. So Shard’s probably right in assuming that murder is legal in Wonderland if the Queen is free to do this. Good, he needed her favor.
The white rabbit rushed to her side with two colored balls atop a purple pillow, when he picked one up by the scruff of its neck, the agent realized they weren’t balls at all; they were brightly colored hedgehogs who were fast asleep. The one placed down had yawned once but when he looked up to the imposing figure above him, he curled into a ball for his own safety.
Shard just watched from the side, partially interested in how it’d go, but also feeling some parts pity for the flamingo and hedgehog. At least the Foundation had an ethics committee.
The Queen of Hearts lined up her shot and missed entirely as she spun around. While the spin went on for a comically long few seconds, the little king quietly ushered the hedgehog to run along with a few nudges. Meanwhile, the bent over cards in place of croquet wickets hopped across the grass so the hedgehog would roll beneath them for a perfect score. Or however the game went, Shard had never played himself.
When the hedgehog reached the end, the audience of cards cheered for their leader, who had been proud of her own “skill” in the game. Even the flamingos clapped for her so it was only right that Shard do the same. This was no time to be the odd one out.
As the queen happily pranced to the next spot by the hedgehog, Shard wondered if he’d be given the same treatment by the hedgehogs, flamingos and cards. The sheer thought of it was almost laughable, but ruining the silence could ruin the queen’s focus and by extension, her patience. He was never a fan of being a people pleaser, but sometimes it’s necessary. Sometimes.
She lined up her next strike, missed the hedgehog entirely but it happily ran into place as the other cards shuffled into position for another perfect run.
Except the last card, trying his absolute best, couldn’t get into the right place in time and everyone froze in an anticipation. He didn’t make it and the poor card had to hear the queen yell.
“OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”
The crowd cheered once more as the red card was defeatedly dragged away like the three before it. It had barely been ten minutes and that’s already four cards down, Shard could wonder how the hell there were this many cards still alive, loyal or not, but that wasn’t for him to question. He could make the joke that the D-Class and the cards were practically the same, but at least the cards had a chance of surviving. Their life was like a gamble, if you will.
The older monarch turned back to Shard, who instinctively straightened himself at the sudden look, though the practiced smile made sure that he seemed at least interested. “Your turn, my dear,” she said with a voice almost too gentle to be considered her own.
Shard, despite being possibly rather small, was still a towering height compared to everyone else. The Queen of Hearts herself included. Hot.— No.
But also, he might as well enjoy this version of Heaven or Hell while it lasted. He’s just happy he’s not hearing any of it from Clef.
While Shard picked out a pink flamingo for himself, the queen made herself a seat from her own yellow flamingo. There’s no way that had to be comfortable, he thought, but he couldn’t spend all his time thinking, could he?
He tried to straighten out the flamingo like the player before him, but it didn’t cooperate. Its neck no longer taut and a few flaps of his wings had him clenching his teeth as he tried to keep it together. Now he could threaten the flamingo, but the queen losing also means they both lose their heads. Also not a great ending.
The agent then hatched a semi-brilliant plan, which was just to kick the hedgehog. Gently, because he feels bad for it. He could make up for any supposedly illegal in the end by saying that it’d be an honor to learn from a player as good as the queen.
He glanced back to the queen and saw two familiar shades of purple sat on her shoulders. And there, from a semi-brilliant to a brilliant plan he went.
When it came to the unfair croquet game, he didn’t get himself a flamingo anymore, setting it aside. In fact, he grabbed the Cheshire Clef Bastard Fucker Cat by the tail and used that to hit the hedgehog. He wasn’t going to win, it was clear enough when he watched the cards moved in and out of place, but hopefully the Cheshire Clef Bastard Fucker Cat would get hurt, whether it be by the hedgehog or the ground.
In terms of the psychology textbooks he read, he probably shouldn’t have taken out his frustrations with Clef on a probably-not-that-innocent cat by being violent towards it. But nothing made sense in Wonderland, so naturally, his psychology textbooks wouldn’t make sense either. And it’d be perfectly acceptable to take his anger out on a not-so-innocent cat who is either from another world, entirely fictional or both.
Unfortunately, he can already feel Clef’s grin behind him. He knew damn well he wasn’t there, but that smug fucker loved pushing people to their limit like it was a hobby. Considering how many times Kondraki sent him to medical, it probably was.
The hedgehog ran along anyway, but the cards were less than cooperative as they move aside, folded and flattened so Shard wouldn’t get a single point in, not one, much to the queen’s delight. He tried to hold back a sigh, but it went through anyway.
She sauntered over to the hedgehog, sitting perfectly still, and she got ready for another try, and Shard watched, much like everyone else. Unlike everyone else, he had noticed that a striped purple tail had suddenly faded in into the queen. He didn’t dare comment; He knew damn well what it was, but he didn’t want to intrude on Her Majesty’s concentration.
The agent pursed his lips as the familiar smile faded in with the rest of the body, resting on the queen as she tried to perfect her next move.
“I say,” the Cheshire Cat interrupted his hums, “How are you getting on?”
Shard just pointed with his gaze towards the Queen of Hearts. He didn’t want to speak, not now. But, honestly speaking, he just wanted his cat. Sure, the adventure’s fun and all, but he’s just here to get a favor for his cat.
“Oh but we could make her really angry…” The cat pulled down the end of the flamingo’s beak to hook the hem of the queen’s skirt. “Shall we try?”
Shard shook his head furiously at him, ironically gesturing for the cat to cut it out though he was sure both preferred to have their heads. He even snuck a middle finger towards him, gambling that the queen doesn’t see it and rid him off his head— She didn’t.
“Oh but it’s loads of fun!” Shard took a step back as the monarch had swung the flamingo and tripped on her own skirt, falling with a great big thud that had every card jump from the shaken earth.
Every red card around them immediately rushed to the queen’s aid, making themselves a wall for her privacy as she fixed herself. It barely took a second before she was fuming mad once more, all the cards around her falling forward as she yelled.
“SOMEONE’S HEAD WILL ROLL FOR THIS!”
The queen’s face was bright red, not a hair in its original place and Shard could swear that her crown had now been bent and crooked from the fall.
“AND IT’S YOURS!”
Shard had half a mind to run, another half to sit still.
“OFF WITH HIS-“
The king tugged at his wife’s skirt. “But- But, consider, my dear! Couldn’t he have a trial?”
“TRIAL?”
He stepped backwards as if he were pushed back by her booming voice, but it seemed to be a daily occurrence. “Just a little trial?”
Shard mouthed a thank you to the king, feeling some parts regret for kicking at him earlier.
“Hm… Very well then.” The queen pat her husband’s head. “LET THE TRIAL BEGIN!”
And the cards cheered, even Shard clapped at the decision as he’d very much like a chance to live. If not, well, the cards were flimsy, thin and flat. They’re not the fastest nor the most agile. He could run, but getting the queen’s favor is his best chance at finding Mr. Mittens.
Shard was dragged to court by his arms. For much of it, he resisted and tried to pull away without having to hurt the cards— That might add more to a guilty verdict— even walking with them rather than doing much else to resist.
Through the winding hedge maze and to the front of the castle. It was big, it even reminded him of a church somehow. More so inside, past the sharp arches and tall ceilings. The black and white tiles sealed the deal for him but it seemed to be just the court.
Cards filed in left and right, crowds built up quickly, all buzzing in anticipation, and Shard had all eyes on him. He didn’t notice how anger had silently seeped into his expression, trying one more time to resist the hold of the cards until the dulled end of a spear was at his throat.
He just needed more time to talk to the Queen of Hearts. He can’t do that if he killed her guards.
The White Rabbit sounded the fanfare from his horn as he ran along the red carpet lined by the cards then running up an uneven spiral of stairs to a podium.
“Your Majesty!“
The queen’s fingers drummed impatiently at her table.
“Members of the jury!”
Several different humanoid animals bowed, mostly birds now that he noticed. Seemed every bird wasn’t quite as free as the saying, though it was unintentionally his fault half the time— And, is that a human?— He stood a little taller than the rest though was still rather short in stature himself, short silvery hair, glasses and a bandaid across his cheek.
Doodle?
“Royal subjects!”
The cards nodded, both those lining the carpet and those beyond.
“And the king.” The rabbit sighed.
The king tipped his crown like a hat.
The part where Doodle, not Mr. Mittens but the actual human who became Mr. Mittens, was accompanying her in the jury was not part of anything. He only sighed. Albeit heavily. It’ll be a little difficult now.
Unfortunately, being stupid also carried onto the human version. It was an anomalous kind of stupid, being inconsistent and otherwise neurologically normal, but he has the memory and attention span of an ill goldfish. On a good day.
The rabbit cleared his throat. “The prisoner is charged with enticing Her Majesty, the Queen of Hearts, into a game of croquet and thereby, willfully and with malice, before teasing, tormenting and otherwise annoying our beloved-“
“NEVERMIND ALL THAT! Get to the part where I lose my temper!” She smiled in delight.
Shard couldn’t follow about half of it just because the rabbit spoke too fast and missed out on a few words. He was reading off a painfully long script, so he understood that much.
The rabbit went through meters and feet of the rest of th scroll to its end. “Thereby causing the queen to lose her temper!”
“Now,” the Queen looked back to Shard with an unwelcome grin. He smiled back, of course, leaning on the stand. “Are you ready for your sentence?”
Mr. Mittens- Doodle was here, so fuck it. He can’t flirt while he’s around, that’s just not something he can do.
No matter where she stood near him, a Doodle, not a Mr. Mittens, was always in sight and he seemed to be himself. Besides, he rarely processed getting hurt so it shouldn’t be much issue. Just grab him and get home.
“What about my verdict?” Asked Shard with some parts of a pout, he didn’f exactly like being so soft.
“SENTENCE FIRST! Verdict afterwards.”
The agent looked to the two guards by him, each holding a spear that crossed in front of him. In theory, he could grab it from them and get a free weapon for himself. The rest should be easy. He’s never used spears before but they’re big sticks, how hard can it be?
“OFF WITH HIS-“
“Co-consider, my dear!” The king truly was a saving grace. “We called no witnesses! Couldn’t we hear maybe one or two? Huh? Maybe?”
“Oh, very well.” She grumbled, resting her face on her hand. “BUT GET ON WITH IT!”
The king ran off the stand, almost falling off as he grabbed himself a gavel that would be more like a large mallet.
“First witness, first witness! The March Hare!”
The March Hare, still with a cup of tea in hand, was held up by the ears as he was dragged to court with an unfitting amount of calm.
The king started. “What do you know about this unfortunate affair?“
The hare stirred the tea with the end of his finger before giving his response. “Nothing!”
“NOTHING WHATEVER?”
“NOTHING WHATEVER!” The hare jumped up to the queen, even pushing her back a little as he got closer.
“THAT’S VERY IMPORTANT!” She slammed the table as she looked back to the king, who had fallen off once more. “Jury! Write that down!”
The jury of well-dressed birds and bugs wrote across their little chalkboards, each with different words. Doodle just doodled, he didn’t seem to pay attention to any of this.
The white rabbit spoke up. “Next witness! The doormouse!”
The two cards carried in a tray and cover with utmost care, placing it atop the witness’ stand under the spotlight and delicately removing the cover to expose s yellow teapot.
The Queen of Hearts opened the teapot. “WELL-“
The guards shushed the queen, who had listened, much to Shard’s confusion.
She whispered to the teapot which moved a little to her direction as if to hear better. “What have you to say about this?”
The doormouse popped up, drowsy as ever as he slowly receded back in. “Twinkle, twinkle, little bat… How I wonder…”
Shard wasn’t sure how the queen could whisper so loudly too, but he was in no place to question her as she was speaking to the king.
“That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet!”
But, she’s still herself.
“WRITE THAT DOWN!”
Much of the jury comically fell backwards at the shout, immediately getting back up to write away their notes. Doodle was still standing however. Shard couldn’t see exactly what he was doodling, but he hoped it was part of some magic spell to get them home. Or thaumatic working, whatever it’s called.
The white rabbit moved on. “The Mad Hatter!”
The Mad Hatter wasn’t forcibly bright there as he giggled when pushed up to the stand.
“OFF WITH YOUR HAT!”
He didn’t seem to mind as he pulled off his hat and revealed a tea set beneath it. Of course, he had a full tea set stacked underneath his hat.
“Where were you when this horrible crime was committed?” Asked the king.
“I was home drinking tea!” He sprayed some of the tea in his cup, yes, sprayed. From the teapot. Don’t question it. “It’s my unbirthday, you know!”
“Why, my dear! Today is your unbirthday!”
Shard stifled a groan as the queen’s face lit up at the fact. He just needed to be given his sentence then escape while he was being transported, grab the not-cat and go home. He didn’t get the home part but, more likely than not, the mage could probably fix something.
His train of thought was interrupted by the smell of desserts and tea, and the realization that everyone’s singing the unbirthday song. Minus Doodle, who looks preoccupied by an ant crawling across the table-
Was there an explosion? The agent looked back up and saw the queen now donned a new purple crown.
“Your new crown looks stunning, your majesty.” From experience, purple never meant anything good.
He had a better idea, hold on.
It’s a bad idea but everything’s flipped and fucked in Wonderland so…
Shard took a bite of the mushroom, making himself grow almost too tall for the building to stay untouched. Cramped, sure, but none of the cards would prove an issue. In fact, of the many who have tried to poke their spears into his boots, he picked them up and they were nothing but a couple of cards, not unlike those seen on a regular basis.
The little king, now much littler, began to speak up. “Rule 42! All persons more than a mile high must leave the court immediately!”
Shard raised an eyebrow, partially amused. “This is a mile high for you? I’m flattered, I have to say, but I’m no taller than a thousand feet.”
He looked between the scrambling court, most running away from him and some running to, but he just had to be careful not to step on Doodle. Assuming he could find him first.
Shard kicked away some of the cards, even stomping on a few, as he looked for Doodle somewhere in the crowd but nothing. With everyone running left and right, it was hard to see much beyond a blur.
He kept looking and looking, then he realized he kept shrinking and shrinking. The mushroom didn’t last that long, apparently. He shrunk, and shrunk and shrunk until he was back to normal.
Shit.
“OFF WITH HIS HEAD!”
All that was rest of the living cards immediately swarmed him. This was far more than just one deck of cards, but fuck it.
He darted left and right, shifting glances to anything that made movement to look for Doodle. That stupid not-cat.
The king had followed behind, unfortunately getting trampled by some cards. “You heard what Her Majesty said! You heard what Her Majesty said! Off with his head! Off with his head!”
Where the hell is Doodle? Where the hell is Doodle- Shit- He tripped for a second but recovered just as quick. He had no time for this. Where’s-
THERE’S THE FUCKER.
Thankfully, the GOC agent’s eyesight isn’t completely shit as he ran to him, yelling “Mr. Shard! Mr. Shard!”
Shard grabbed the smaller agent by the arm and booked it out of there, running out of the castle and court to the messy hedge maze under the black and red sky.
Seeing that there was no way out other than the way in, Shard and Doodle ran through the maze with the cards not so far behind.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right.
Fuck!
Shard and Doodle were met with a line of cards at a corner, so Shard shot through the line with just one round and he and the little agent ran over the now-dead cards.
Why the fuck does he have a kill count in Wonderland?
Right. Right. Right. Right. Left. Left. Right. Left.
How the fuck were they going to leave?
Doodle was in no condition to think. To be fair, he usually wasn’t. But they needed a way out and quick.
Too bad. You think too much, Agent Shard. Face the consequences.
A dull pain passed through him and crackled in the same second. His breath no longer lifted his chest and his feet no longer ached. He wouldn’t say it faded to black; Fading was usually rather slow.
. . .
Breathe, Shard. Breathe.
It’ll be fine.
It’ll be alright.
Always was, always will be.
It just doesn’t feel like it right now.
Just.
Breathe.
One.
Two.
And three.
. . .
Shard bolted up in a cold sweat though kept still at the seatbelt holding him back, taking deep breaths as this wasn’t his bed, but thankfully, it was his car. That’s the first thing he noticed. It seemed the mission was real but it was over and done with and the rest was just a dream.
Second thing he noticed was Mr. Mittens fast asleep and snug on his lap with his arm resting on him. He had shallow breaths but was soft and warm as ever. At least he’s okay.
Third is that he has all ten fingers. Not that he had lost any throughout the supposed trip to Wonderland, but it was often a way to check if reality is well. Real. Or at least stayed within baseline.
The fourth thing is that is watch is working fine, and that it was getting close to dawn. Seems he’d been dozing off for a few hours. He checked his phone if there was any difference, notification or anything at all, but there was just a text from an unknown number saying “gn si.” Odd but most likely Clef on another burner phone, so he couldn’t care less.
He didn’t respond, in fact it was usually smarter to not respond since the following conversation wasn’t often pleasant nor necessary.
The agent gently picked up the cat and put him in the passenger’s seat on the bunch of blankets. As much as he’d like to pet him, they had to get home first. And it’d still be a long trip. Thankfully, Mr. Mittens slept like the dead, not even water or being dropped from the counter (on accident) didn’t wake him, based on experience.
In the few days after, he realized he remembered every detail. Even with eidetic memory, it was still odd to him. Every detail from the heat of the tea to the weight of the water…
It was only a few days later that he noticed a “Drink me!” tag left in his pocket when he checked the laundry.
There’s no way in hell he’s gonna write a new report.