AliceInWonderlandFC

“I tell you,” Hakuto went on. “It’s just not possible that it can have been stolen! Who in all of Heartland could possibly steal it?” Pom was impassive to Hakuto’s consternation with anything but mild annoyance. “If a thing can exist,” she said simply, “it can be stolen, Mr. White, and if it was not a Heartland citizen then a thief from out of Heartland has stolen Lise. Unless it was a denizen. I have thought of the queen’s knave…” “Oh, despite what people say, doctor, I find more often than not that Sir Nevin is tardier than he is tart…y— Oh! Whatever,” sighed Hakuto impatiently and shook his head. “Couldn’t it have simply wandered off or been misplaced?” Wringing his paws, he resisted the urge to look at his watch again. Instead he was ushered by the beefy hand of Pom inside before he could so much as think to protest. “Wandered off?” laughed Pom humorlessly. “You don’t seriously believe that a clockwork person can just wander off without anyone knowing?” Hakuto paused and

The mail service was as reliable as clockwork. Of course, so was everything. Haddler had had the honor of fixing it in spots himself once when the official mechanic for the service was grievously occupied. It was a fascinatingly complex network that started at any of the city mailboxes as easily as turning on a faucet. Haddler had his own house modified not only to have his mail sent to his mailbox outside his door but to have it sent right into the kitchen to the center of the table and into a tidy little mail organizer into which all mail would fall. Its designated slot would be determined by size and weight with the heaviest in the middle and the lighter ones switching off on either side to the lightest. Packages were dropped next to the table on a designated welcome mat that read “Mat Welcomes”. It must be noted that none of this had anything to do with Haddler being particularly a neat freak or obsessively organized but merely to prove he could design it. Haddler was taking his

There was a dark void. No sight or sound could distract from all that went on to watch the clockwork world save dim twinkling lights of pale yellow, green or blue looking lonely in against the inky blackness. There was no steam or ticking or tocking here in this cold dry emptiness, but the void was not as empty as it appeared in the space between worlds in the universal cosmos. Earthen gods spoke with power and foresight as they sifted over the world beneath them to speak one to another in this celestial parlor. The only drink to be had was that found in the Milky Way, the only seats the Pillars of Creation. Almost invisible, Jupiter, the most magnificent of all the gods was first to appear. His Herculean outline like the curve of a horizon just before the light dawn, he stirred his milk into foam. The steely glint around his eyes were halos of sterile skylight blue so that his real hallowed eyes could not be looked into by the unworthy. But he was not the first to speak. In the

Maybe it was the noxious and sight-blurring steam that caused Matthias to feel as though he was in the presence of an angel or at least a fairy. He almost bowed to the form, but he was too stiff to bend a knee without falling flat on his face. Though, falling on one’s face might be a more humbling form of homage than kneeling, Matthias Haddler was first and foremost a gentleman and could not bring himself to fall without first tripping. What he could say about the young lady was this. However blue her eyes were beyond the color of blue, however golden her hair was in perfect goldilocked-curls, no matter how smooth the petals of her daffodil dress with the violet stripes along the trim, and no matter how her feet were so hidden in the steam that she looked like she was levitating on some plane out of chronology and special legroom, she looked more real than anything to observe in this otherwise story-wise Observastory— including himself which was enough to ponder about. She looked

He had not quite finished his tea when he was sent for, and he felt just about as befuddled about it as a tea kettle being sent for at a beachfront ice cream stand. What made this notion even more absurd was the fact that a tea kettle might just as well be befuddled about being sent for tea, for it surely would be befuddled at being able to be befuddled at all. Either way, it must be said that Mr. Matthias Haddler was not a doctor or a professor however proficient he was with his hands. He was little more than a toymaker, really, though a highly sought after one in the sense that he could make just about anything if it had gears, windups, or any sort of clockwork. He could just as well gut the most masterful clock in the city and put it back together more perfectly than before better than a doctor could claim such a thing if a person could be taken apart and put back together in such a way. Haddler often fancied that if the mind had been made up of clockwork it would surely be far

The wispy spring of teas was what drew me nigh. The grunt that was to follow was from gloom striking my eye. The phanty in the corner thought ‘twas the call for ease. He wasn’t wrong, though not the tease For knocking heads to cry. The washing was to clean my sheets In tea from head to feet —Eight feet, in fact I’ll not subtract— For this audience quite discrete. The sweeping was to clean my ears In tea from all my fears —Nine years in all It’s no short fall— Of landing through clock gears. But now I’m here with pallet rinsed By trees and I’m convinced —ten tints of green They’re all serene— I would dare no word be minced. The wisp of spring in trees was what drew me up. The song that was to follow was from the scent more than some sup. The angel in the corner thought ‘twas the call to sighs. She wasn’t wrong, I’ll sympathize; Yet not to gloom but Wonder's pious cup.

The first sensation she had was that of falling. She knew that she should not have been that surprised when falling down a rabbit hole. That rabbit had not been careful enough if he had not wanted anyone to follow, but it was just how sudden it had been. How true it was. This was no dream. She really was falling! What had she gotten into!? She almost regretted it, especially when thinking of hitting the bottom. Could she survive it? Wonderland or not, she could not tell if this led to her destination or if she was falling through the vacuum abyss between worlds forever. What was Wonderland and what was simply the result of what she dared to do? Down, down, down, down. At first she was screaming but the further she fell into this inky dizzying cavity, the more she had time to think and more time to overcome her panic. She actually opened her eyes and looked about her. Half-formed objects passed by when they threatened to go near enough to strike her. Colors winked forming the

The hissing of the kettle was what drew me nigh. The scream that was to follow was because of steam striking my eye. The fellow in the corner thought twas the call for tea. He wasn’t wrong, though it was me. My parody did just precede the spout’s proverbial cry.

Dramatis Personae HUMPTY DUMPTY, a goodhearted anthropomorphic egg KING'S HORSES, the realm's sturdiest steeds KING'S MEN, the realm's stalwart royal knights Act I, Scene 1. The curtain wall surrounding a royal castle. Enter HUMPTY DUMPTY, to sit atop a great stonework wall of perilous height. Golden sunlight bathes the scene, providing a joyful appearance to all earthly things. HUMPTY DUMPTY O wondrous realm, fair lands of our great king, Of beauty here mine humble heart doth sing! From heights aloft I view thy fertile land— A noble sight, so vast and ever-grand. Yon meadows green where flowers sweetly bloom, And azure skies that chase away all gloom! The babbling brooks that through yon valleys flow— Thus nature's grace presents a fairy show! From this high perch I ponder life's grand scheme, A fragile egg, caught in a waking dream. But— though I sit 'pon ramparts wide and tall I know grim death awaits— may soon befall. Yet in this moment, with the world below, I feel