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 Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 5:35 pm
[[your Shakespeare reference is very interesting ^^]]
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 6:27 pm
» » » Q ueen || O f || H earts « « « -------------------------------------------------------E K A T E R I N AThe Blood Red Vixen╔══════════════════════╗
Guilded Tombs Do Worms Infold...
Had You Been as Wise as bold...
Young In Limbs In Judgment Old...
Your Answer Hath Not Been In scrolled...
Far You Well Your Suit is Cold...
╚══════════════════════╝ ▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ There were photographs lining the walls of the throne room. Not as if Ekaterina knew them, but they had been previous rulers of Wonderland. All pathetically destroyed by their fractured egos or something as equally mundane, the Queen was not detailed oriented when matters not involving herself or her subjects were at hand. She had often imagined herself ripping them down, hearing the horrid screams as the glass shattered , the frames breaking in many places where edges had  not been, the paper tearing into little colorful shreds of fallen snow. Tiring of their faces, Ekaterina would not feel any remorse for destroying any and all archives of this nature, their stares of contempt would be punished through destruction, of which Ekaterina was capable of in spades. For now the images were merely whispering, too afraid of an impending doom to open their silent mouths any further.
“To each his own, White. If you insist there is nothing that will satisfy you, I shall not persist.” Cold, calculating eyes fixated at the glass now only half-empty, or half-full, Ekaterina was never one for riddles and childish word games, in the end, it was just a glass . Nothing more. Nothing less. It was then, at the sound of an all familiar phrase, one she had read many a times before, escaped the quizzical lips of her present company., that she allowed her attention to return to him, staring as if he had almost slapped her across the face; one of the many biggest mistakes one could make. She wondered if he recited beautiful words and phrases just to win her good graces, or it was a indeed a dire plea for trust and loyalty. It was true, their years as Queen and servant had seemed close to eternities, and during that time she had but an ounce of trust for White, and though it was not in her moral character to even suggest to herself that anyone was trustworthy, he had at least deserved it, out of all qualifying applicants. Was the Queen even capable of placing her trust in another? Ekaterina placed her faith in his ability, would bet her very distorted existence that he could complete any task given, but that was not in question. The fine line between faith and trust bounced back and forth in her mind like an ecstatic ping pong match, and in the end she was no closer to discovering an answer than she was before White entered the room.
In the end, she allowed her features to soften, the very crimson curves of her mouth slanting to a fractured smile, however small it was, if one looked carefully there was pleasure cradled in those rouge puffy pieces of flesh that adorned her face. Feeding her ego was one thing, but to almost feel as though his words harbored some kind of truth was the most comforting aspect of their conversation, in the end, if he decided that the cold steel between her rib cage and heart was necessary for the good for everyone, she would smile, because at least he lied to her like the prince charming of deception, and she would gladly die on that blade, silver wings spread across the darkness of cold and sinister sister fate; the sound of the metal against bone her beautiful melody of death attuned by years of practice. Feeling in control was her only vice, and at the moment she had no hands on the wheel, White was leading now, but there were more ways of controlling one’s destiny. At the first sign of misconception, she would most certainly show him the lovely embrace of death long before he got a chance to even fathom retaliation.
‘Give him more credit.’ Her inner shell raged, and it was then that Ekaterina sighed heavily, relinquishing her conscience from power and took her rightful place as operator of her own person. “There will always be a next time. I cannot fight this war on my own. And as my sanity, I cannot lose you to my undying need for destruction. I have self control in the very slight. However much that comes at a surprise to you and your, comrades.” Ekaterina was hated, of that she understood, what she lived for. Someone has to have passion to hate someone, and for all of Wonderland to hate her, means they had passion with her at the center of it all. Perhaps she bathed in the idea of being the topic of everyone’s discontent, there had to be someone that she could say was on her side. At the end of the day, it ravaged her personality greatly, turning her heart even more to stone than before. There had to be warmth somewhere? Right? No one really knew….
Ekaterina listened to White intently, her eyes focusing on the flickering glow of the fire, though she was intent on ignoring him, his words were solid, and one could not help but hear every syllable. Her previous thoughts had been concluding, if this was a ploy to earn her trust, he was the greatest liar she had yet to meet. Something ate at her, something she had not felt in years, it was guilt. He had been in her service for some time, always willing to do her dirty work, so to speak, and that position demanded some respect. It was time to allow White all that he deserved for his undying devotion,. Before she could respond to his moving sense of devotion, White removed himself from the arm of her chair and found himself at her side, humbling his form to below eye level, forcing her to take in his image and leave her eyes transfixed there almost permanently it seemed. Her muscles tensed, thinking that his devotion had ended and he preparing himself for the assassination, as her paranoid existence allowed her to believe. But his words denied such an action, claiming allegiance to her cause, but mostly, to her. “You deny me the right to hate you, White. And for that, I hate you. It pains me to accept you as my loyalist of acolytes. It pains me that you stand here before me accepting allegiance with me, and yet I can hardly stand to trust you. And for that, White, is the reason I must love you, and all that you do in my service. Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know, and you shall find the level of trust I have for you.”
The Queen fancied herself a lover of words and caressed the gentle folds of White’s face with a single finger, still searching for signs of deception in his serene eyes, and at last decided he was worthy of it. And Ekaterina smiled. Not a fracture. A smile.
▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱▲▱▲▱ "If you like me, than I have done my job right, if you love me than I have done my job perfect. If you hate me... well, you can go off yourself..."
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 11:17 pm
 I'm late,
I'm late,
For a very important date.
"At last, the sun dawns," White returned her smile with a faint one of his own. "I am glad. You grace this humble pilgrim with a faint glimmer of hope." Remaining at his Queen's feet, he fought hard to stifle a yawn, as the Queen's cold finger stroked his cheek. "I suppose this war will last, and nobody truly knows when it will end, eh?" White laid his head on Ekaterina's lap for a moment, remaining silent in thought. "But in fighting this war, I rejoice. Don't you? A necessary thing, to stir up the gathered stupor of the ages, war is the very oil that lubricates the grinding gears of history. And I will fight for you, my Queen. That is one thing that shall never change, eh? And I suppose that I will fight gladly. After all," he turned his head up to gaze into his Queen's cold eyes, "that is the life which I live for. What do you live for now, my Queen?"
Smiling faintly, he sighed and breathed in her scent, the rich, heady fragrance that threatened to overcome him and send his mind shattered into the abyss. It was venomous, but because of its nature, he enjoyed it so. The smell of death, he thought. "So enjoyable, and yet I know for every moment that I breathe it in, my body further fails me, my reflexes slow, my senses dull, my strength wane. And yet, I continue to breathe it in gladly," he murmured, enjoying the cool feel of his sovereign's smooth thighs pressed against the side of his cheek. "And for this act of intimacy, I may be executed on your whim, my head sent tumbling along the ground like a strange ball, eh Ekaterina?" Closing his eyes, he traced a single finger across the pale, perfect skin. "How strange I am, to be attracted to such danger, knowing that I put my very life in peril this moment. And yet how enjoyable the feeling. My queen," he gazed up at her through hooded eyes, "You are my poison, that I am fated to sup for as long as I draw breath. The very essence that is killing me, and yet I gladly drink from the glass of hemlock when it comes my turn. Why?" Closing his eyes once more, he slightly nuzzled her skin. "I do not know that answer. Perhaps my queen would favor me with enlightenment?" Yawning lazily, he peered up at her drowsily. "And my queen, if I slay you, if I pierce your fair chest with steel, why, it would be the same as committing that act to my own body. I hope you thrive forever, my queen. For without you, I am nothing." And it was true. While outside of the court, before he entered into Ekaterina's service, White was always regarded as an oddity at best. His very nature, his desire to fight, his desire to kill, had always set him at odds with the rest of Wonderland society. "And what a wonderful land this is," he murmured under his breath sarcastically.
"Knock on my heart? Ask it what it knows? My queen, you know better than any other being in this world, that I don't have such a thing, or such a sense. And life's easier that way, if you must know," his eyes gleamed coldly, as two chips of glacial ice that have never felt the warmth of the sun. "Why is a heart necessary? But my queen," gazing up at her face, White smiled sadly, "If you cannot find it within your heart, as I know very well that you are in possession of such a curiosity, to trust me, then you need not trust me. After all, why trust a knife that it will cut? Why trust a sword that it will kill when it strikes? Why trust the sun to shine, the moon to follow?" Reaching with a hand to caress her face, his slender fingers stopped just short, and fell back down slowly, resting lightly around her waist. "You need not trust me, my queen." Standing, he turned his back to her, gazing about the quiet hall, as firelight cast dancing shadows along the walls, filling the chamber with cheery movement. "How strange it is, that we find such comfort in shadows, my queen. For as the light shall always cast a shadow, so I shall always dwell. That is my nature, and I accept it. That is my doomed fate, and yet I welcome it with open arms. What about you, my beautiful sovereign? What is your nature?" Placing a hand over her head on the cold metal throne, he leaned his body over her, gazing down into her eyes.
"I will not kill you, my queen," because I love you. Bending his slender neck down, lowering his body, until he could feel her faint breath upon his pale cheek, her scent dizzying to his senses. Almost threatening to overwhelm him, White fought to regain control of his tongue. "I will not kill you. And how I wish that I could say the same for my queen. But I cannot," he moved his head even closer to Ekaterina's ivory cheek, his lips whispering softly in her ear. "One day, my queen, when your heart regains its warmth, and you find pleasure in living, you will gaze upon me with a different eye. You shall see me for what I truly am, as a wretch, a cursed fool doomed to his fate. And then, you shall first pity me." His eyes closed, White continued. "Yes, you shall pity me, and that may be the hardest part for me to accept, that the one I serve looks down upon me with a kind eye, and I shall not spurn your kindness for I could not stand to do so, but it shall tear me apart from the inside. And after your eyes clear, and the bloody mist clears away, you shall fear me. You shall fear me, and what I will represent then, as the candle fears the shadow it casts, and yet it shall always cast. And after fear, you shall be driven to kill me, I'm afraid. You shall kill me without memory of my faithful service to you all these years, and without mercy, without regret. You shall kill me as one slays a foul beast, and that is what I fear. For when your heart heals, and mends, the hollow in my chest," taking one of her delicate hands in his firm grasp, White pressed it against his breast in emphasis, "This hollow in my chest shall not. You will loathe me, and lust after my death, my queen. And although I fear my death at your hands, and the change in you that shall bring about that death, I have no choice but to usher in the change." Letting her hand fall, White leaned his head gently upon her shoulder. "For until the very end, my queen, up to the very moment your fair hand drives a poisoned blade twixt my breast, I shall serve you faithfully, never questioning your judgment. And I shall welcome the poison. And so I wait with bated breath until the day arrives, my queen, when you regain your heart, and with it your senses, and slay me."
No time to say "Hello".
Goodbye.
I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 11:43 pm
((Sorry no Knave or extra human after all...))
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Posted: Mon Jul 27, 2009 11:48 pm
{{I can play more than one character, if you would like. In fact, I only RP half as good as I do as long as I am portraying 349572945723975235 characters at once. I think right now I have.... seventeen characters, not including all the characters and NPC's I am portraying for my own stories}}
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 12:24 am
((That would be much appreciated))
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 12:25 am
{{Just let me know who mah' darlin'}}
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 2:02 am
» » » Q ueen || O f || H earts « « « -------------------------------------------------------E K A T E R I N AThe Blood Red Vixen╔══════════════════════╗
Guilded Tombs Do Worms Infold...
Had You Been as Wise as bold...
Young In Limbs In Judgment Old...
Your Answer Hath Not Been In scrolled...
Far You Well Your Suit is Cold...
╚══════════════════════╝ ▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ “This will end when understanding breaches the mind of every creature in Wonderland. And since my opposition..” Her majesty allowed the lady in white to grace the darkness of her mind. To be honest, her imagination had to fill in the facial prospects because Ekaterina hadn’t faintest of what she truly looked like. There had been stories, soldiers that had laid eyes upon her, but none that could grasp a worthy image for their Queen to fathom. All her heart knew, or the stone rock that had once been her heart, is that the lady in white was against her, and that she stood in the way of her ultimate prospect, complete control over wonderland. “I rejoice not for the war itself, as tedious as it is, but for the triumph that is within my grasp. Its toying with my energy and I am growing weaker as the days go by. If I cannot usurper my position in wonderland, I may as well crumble into dust atop this chair.” Ekaterina admitted, she was feeling the life fade from her, her pale complexion standing as the first bastion of her final days in Wonderland, unless their morale could be raised and prospects seem a bit more tangible. White was a great fighter, she had heard on countless occasions whispers of fear from other soldiers in his employ, another matter that asked her if she trusted White. If he had nothing, the fact that she let her own soldiers in his hands could have presented itself as a reassurance that the Queen at least respected the well attuned creature that lay before her. ’What do you live for?’
White was far in the distance now, the light hum of the fire was slowly fading into a distant memory, as if forgetting that the very ideal of sound was nothing short a hallucination. Not even the sound of her breath was strong enough to disembody the silence, her chest heaving up and down was a clear indication that she was in fact still alive and that sound was merely melting away like watercolor in an accidental down pour. This was what utter displacement must have felt like. The feeling of absence and its cold fingers intimately touching every shred of skin on her body. The feeling reciprocals on her lap reminded her that White was still there, but Ekaterina felt miles away from everything and everyone, her soul having finished its work and simply excused itself without words. Her own voice broke the quiet: “What do you live for?” Her subconscious called to her, its voice beaming through the darkness like the light at the end of the tunnel. “Nothing.” In front of her stood a gilded mirror, ornately constructed, adorned with images of wraiths and hooded figures wielding scythes. The reflection was that of herself, glaring at her with aggravated facial expressions that mimicked her own. “That’s not true, everyone lives for something.” Another mirror, equal in height and adornment as its sister, reflected a softer image of her Majesty, bearing the burden of sorrow with a look of melancholy painted across her face. “You are just evil. Remember? What do you care about purpose?” “You cannot spell evil with out live. You are alive.” The two battled back and forth between the true answer she could give White before Ekaterina’s true form covered her ears and knelt on the ground, begging for them to stop arguing in her presence, to allow her to return to a less fabricated world than the one these images wanted her to witness.
“Stop.” She whispered, and all sound came crashing into her ear cavity ravaging her headache from slumber, the pounding far worse than it had been in many eons. ’Eh, Ekaterina.’ The sound of her name made her cringe, but it was prominent enough to grasp her attention, allowing her black irises to focus on White, though sitting before her, a part of her wondered if he existed in this moment, or some estranged being that her mind conjured up to make the nights in this dreary castle less, lonely. White’s touch broke her from her deafening trance, her skin still harboring the lingering warmth he had injected whilst trailing his finger upon her flesh. She had heard him clear as day, but was still stuck in the conundrum of her shattered existence. Torn between finding what her heart wanted out of this, and what the evil, ice berg of a conscience wanted for Wonderland. It was as if two dominant entities were pining over total control over a single body. And though the war was slowly draining her of her prior life force, it was this inner struggle that was killing her, faster than any poison could. But her focus was now left in the hands of White. Should she kill him for this sudden display of affection, not even her King had been so loyal to her needs, but was death appropriate for this creature? Has she the energy to be outraged, perhaps, losing her temper was part of the whole, Evil Queen of Hearts business, but just for this moment, she allowed it. If his wish was to bite into her poison apple, to take in the essence of death, then who is she to deny him the fruit of his demise?
Ekaterina attempted to answer White’s initial intrigue, but found it near impossible, what was she to divulge? That she lived for herself? That blood, gore and animosity were her weapons and that hate was her only vice? The Queen embodied more than just that, as previously annotated, one has to have passion to hate, and Ekaterina, as dark and sinister as she was had a level of desire for those that served her. White was proving himself one of the few that were on that list, almost near the top, since his loyalty ran deeper than any river in Wonderland. Stronger than the eldest oak, more vibrant than the most beautiful singing flower. Ekaterina was going to object the idea of White without a heart, it pained her to think that her satanic reach had infected him into thinking that he was void that which made White, White. He had a heart, just decided in the absence of light a life that he dare not follow it, for fear of being presumed weak. “But you have…” White was not done, and she was forced to listen to his pleas. Perhaps her lack of trust was hurting not only White’s ego, but his frail mind frame as well, reminding her why it would be so easy to distrust him by clever metaphors and realizations. His hand came up to greet the porcelain of her face, and Ekaterina sat motionless, wondering what emotion drove him to act so strangely, more than usual, towards her. This was the most affection she had seen him display in a good while, and a part of her wondered what scheme was hiding behind this mask of warmth and passion. His hand fell just short coming to rest in fingertip’s length of grasp, Ekaterina could feel the glow of emotion transferring from every pore on his body, through the hand that lay ever so close to her cold shell, and into her own lifeless form. Though she didn’t understand it, that did not conclude it as horrible. Perhaps it was the moonlight, or a mind altering substance, either way, Ekaterina was content with finding out what was at the center of this display.
White moved in closer towards her seated body, Ekaterina backing as far as she could against the belly of her chair, her ebony hair wracking around her shoulders and neck, forced from their place behind her by the sudden burst of pressure. Her scepter was too far from reach, her guards had been dismissed and they were alone, no one would be here in time to save her. The instant her voice rang up from the silence White would have her throat slashed and the nightmare of Wonderland would be over, how sweetly this was playing out, and for a moment there was fear in the Queen’s eyes, not for her life, but for her cause; she had not yet accomplished that which she desired, all of it would be a waste, like the crimson that would soon be spilling from her pale neck. ‘I will not kill you, my queen.’ He spoke into her ear like a lover in the bed chamber of his newly wedded wife. Ekaterina raised her palms to White’s chest, feeling the fluttering beat of his steady heart. He wasn’t in the least afraid of that which he was doing, nor of her wraith that could be upon him in a matter of fleeting moments. The Queen put her shaking hands to her own chest, just to assure her that she too had a heart beat to be felt, but her efforts left her hand unmoved by any motion fluttering away in her chest cavity. Her heart raged with the thought of being the Queen of Hearts and lacking one herself. It wasn’t until White then took her hand and placed it back upon his front as if it belonged there in the first place, that helped subdue the uprising she could feel rumbling in the back of her throat.
“No!” Ekaterina stood up from her chair so abruptly she just ever slightly pushed White out of the way. Away from her throne, the Queen stared daggers at her right hand man, legs apart, her hands balling into fists at her side. “You! You know not what you say! You think so, so low of me to render you sunder for…” Ekaterina cupped her hands over her ears as the voices of her inner selves began to scream at her in languages she did not understand, or perhaps they had been enveloped in one another’s speeches too greatly that it was hard to decipher between words and sentences. “Take a look around you! Are you blind, you fool? This! This is the work of someone who has lost their heart a long time ago, but you…” Ekaterina approached White as if to lay a hand on him, but stayed her threat by biting her lower lip. “You are making this… I am suppose to hate you! I am suppose to hate everyone!” The heart shaped glass that had been sitting beside the throne, waiting for someone to drain the poison within it cracked down its center, the red contents spilling out. Dark eyes watched the last drop escape its glass prison, and turned back towards White in desperation. Staggering down the steps away from her thrown, Ekaterina tried to subdue her hatred just this once, but the abandonment issues she was having due in part to the absence of the man that was suppose to sit beside her, and the endless amounts of those who allied themselves with the lady in white. Ekaterina had soldiers at her disposal, but none of them could stand against who so ever the white lady employed. Aside from White.
And that is when Ekaterina looked up at him once more, the sound of he heels clicking as she took a few more steps away, feeling her anger subsiding. "If I have to kill you because life resumed once more in the pit of my subtle heart, then I want to wander this stretch of Wonderland lacking that which makes us me who I am. I want to remain a heartless beast, a creature of the night that thirsts only for blood and carnage... I can't, I can't kill you. I cannot even fathom it, for I cannot fight this war on my own... Just, let me be heartless. Let me enjoy the solitude of the darkness within my soul, so long as I don't have to do this alone. Whether metaphorically speaking or not, if hating me or loving me, or at least following me and hating me, don't let me kill you."
▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱ ▲▱▲▱▲▱ "If you like me, than I have done my job right, if you love me than I have done my job perfect. If you hate me... well, you can go off yourself..."
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 11:21 am
I'm late,
I'm late,
For a very important date.
"Oh, don't worry. You will kill me someday. Someday, when the life you've left behind, the role you're tossed aside, calls to you, my queen will know. It will pull at you, no, it will pull at your heartstrings, it will consume your conscience, and you shall long for it yourself. And I shall not begrudge you that longing." Sitting on the steps at the top of the stairs, he gazed down at the queen fondly. "I shall not begrudge you that longing, for once your heart has healed, I too, shall be glad of the result. The Queen of Hearts of the past, was a magnificent being. Although my death shall inaugurate her return, I walk to that fate gladly. Please," he pleaded gently, "Do not worry about such nonsensical things now, my queen. I was wrong to fill your mind with such trouble, and I almost regret showing such emotion now." Frowning slightly, White sighed and laid back onto the cold tile floor. "I think so low of you? Nay, my queen. It is that I think so highly of you, that I know you shall kill me," he muttered under his breath. As he reached into his robe, he pulled out a small dagger, an ordinary little blade best suited for cutting fruit. Tossing it down to Ekaterina, the blade clattered brightly on the floor, shattering the cloistering silence that had been gathering up. "That is the blade you shall use. Does its mere sight not frighten you?" White laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Keep it safe, my queen. When the time comes, it shall slip easily into it's previous owner's breast and grant me an easy death. Otherwise, no weapon could kill me." Leaning up, he chuckled at her mysterious figure. The darkness about the hall clothed her expression from his sight, and White let out a breath. "Why do I give it to you now, my queen? Because I know, in my heart, that when the time comes for my death, my mind may change. I might find it within myself to clutch desperately at this wretched life, as a drowning man clutches a piece of wood, although it will do him no good in the almighty sea. And then, I fear, my queen." He stood up, and leaned over the arm of the throne, savoring the lingering traces of the queen's wonderful scent. "I fear that my feelings toward you shall change. I fear that I may not be so obedient in that future, my queen, and you shall kill me for it. No," he smiled, a sad little smile that made his slight figure seem almost pitiful in the firelight, "You will have to kill me, to preserve all the new ideals that you shall hold dear, to which I represent certain death."
"And yet, when I die, I shall have my one single desire remain unsatisfied, I suppose," White mused to himself, gazing up into the dark depths of the ceiling of the great hall. "Ah, it was but a foolish desire, and for naught I have wasted my time. And 'twas not right that I bear that desire to fruit, in any case. So it was, and so it shall be. But, that is something I shall save for another night." Tracing a finger down the dully gleaming surface of the throne, White peered at his reflection. A pale, elegant face gazed back at him, blue eyes glowing dimly. It was a refined face, no doubt, and many might have called it handsome. But with a mouth almost set in a perpetual smirk, and eyes that always seemed to glow mischievously, White laughed at his own image. "What a Narcissus I am, gazing away foolishly. And yet," he sat back, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, "How I long for my echo. How I long for my Echo, eh? Someone to reassure me that I am truly alive, that another acknowledges my existence, even if but merely throwing back at me what I have stated. That reassuring feedback in itself would comfort my soul, knowing that I have not already died and 'tis my ghost that wanders now, without even a consciousness of one's own state of existence. What a pitiful life that would be, eh?" Suddenly standing up, White jumped slightly and slapped his cheeks in an effort to keep himself awake. "But tomorrow will still follow today, and time will not obey my commands to halt us in this moment, Ekaterina." Truly, this was the most enjoyable night of his life so far, spent conversing with the queen. The feeling of her pale skin against his face left a burning feeling, and yet it was not unpleasant. However, seeing who he was, and who she was, the touch of skin was perhaps the only token of affection that White would ever receive from his beautiful queen.
"You worry too much, my queen. I have attempted to redress this point many times, and yet failure always greets me." He sat down on the steps leading up to the throne, as if awaiting the return of his sovereign. "Please, my queen, if it troubles you, think nothing of my questions. They were the mere follies of a sleepy Rabbit. It does not matter to me what my queen lives for, whether it be bloodshed or some faint sense of love. Because I know what I live for. I live for the feeling of flesh giving way under my blade, I live for the sight of souls fleeing from their bodies as I make my blade sing amongst them. That is the road I have always walked for you, my queen, and I shall walk it with a smile upon my face for as long as you ask. But 'twill be a sad smile that affixes itself to my cold skin, for while my queen suffers and pines this Rabbit can never truly be happy, eh? And so, my queen," he took a step down the stairs towards her retreating figure, "What would make you happy? Speak, and I shall seek it to the very ends of this world, past the place where the sun makes its bed every evening, past the place where the moon rises into the sky at nightfall. If such a thing that exists to bring you joy, let me be the one to bring it to you, my queen."
There was much more in his mind, seeking exit from his mind and entrance into his voice. And yet, White kept silent after he had spoken, much as he sought to speak more. Some things were not meant to be said in front of the queen. His insides twisted at memory of the King of Hearts. In White's eyes, he was an unfitting pair for the queen. A bumbling fool, he could never love the queen as White loved her, and yet all her life the King filled her eyes, with no room left for her ever so humble servant. It was this fact, that made White want to shout out with desperation, to cast away the memory of one so foolish, to embrace him instead. And yet, how could he utter those words and expect to keep his head securely fastened about his shoulders? It was a dilemma that plagued him constantly, a queen, no, a woman, so troubled by the loss of her husband, and yet White longed to console her, to hold her beautiful body in his arms, to press her head against his chest, to murmur words of love into her ear as she lightly stroked a finger down his bare body... No, White thought. If she is ever to kill me, to free me from this fickle fate of mines, she cannot love me. For if she came to love me, and I her, how could she bring herself to end this Rabbit's miserable life when the time comes that such an act is necessary? No, he shook his head, smiling mysteriously to himself, I would not push such a choice on the queen, to force her to choose between the duty that she has worked under for all her life, or her love, unworthy as I am to even hope of such a future. So thus, I shall always remain her faithful servant, the last to return from the battlefield of victory, and yet the first to be by her side when she stumbles. I shall never be satisfied with this mere role, this minor character part in her life, and yet I must accept it, for hope of a better future for herself and all Wonderland.
"And I suppose if my queen does not kill me first, then I shall die from all this incessant longing," White chuckled to himself, rubbing under his chin with a yawn. And so he would, and yet like his poison, it was another fate he gladly resigned himself to. For while the fruit of his labors may never come to bear, he still toils to achieve, striving to seek the queen's love. While in his heart he knows that the queen can never love him, he merely smiles and shrugs the fact off. "Making the journey is better than to have never budged from one's place, eh? And I still ever yet nurse the faint hope, that one day she will come to see me not as a servant, but as another being, also deprived of love and in need of her presence..." What would the queen say, if she knew my feelings? Would she frown, cast all vestiges of love and loyalty from her heart, and slay me on the very spot? Or would she send me back to the field of combat, to soak this blade in blood, sending me on my diaspora, never to return? But what White feared most of all, and 'twas the most likely of reactions that he would receive upon declaring his feelings for his queen, was her pity, that she would sadly shake her head, a pitying smile upon her face, eyes gazing sadly down upon him. For then, the reality of the truth would strike his dreams down, and White would be nothing, like he had been nothing, once upon a time. And it was for fear of this pity, that White would never make his feelings known, apart from the odd burst of emotion. For who was he to love the queen? He was a mere blade, and blades do not love their wielders. Blades fight, blades kill, but blades do not love.
"Hm," White yawned, placing a pale hand over his mouth. "Very well then. I accept, my queen." Leaning once more on the side of the throne, leaving the seat open for its rightful owner, he gave it a pat and looked inquiringly down at his queen. "Come, Ekaterina, Queen of Hearts, sit on your cold throne once more, and let's have no more talk of this nonsense. Even if I am to die, I don't suppose I will be doing so today or on the morrow. Come, Ekaterina, let us fight this war, let us be heartless. I suppose you will have another list of towns written down for me to destroy? Very well then," he repeated, a slight smile creeping onto his face. "May this war never end, Ekaterina. For both our sakes, may this war never end. Now give me my list, the timetable of my life, and bid me off to bed, for I grow tired in the early hours of morning. And it is not good for your health to stay up so," he frowned slightly, "I do wish you would take better care of yourself." Sitting down and leaning his back against the arm of the throne, White chuckled softly. "Yes indeed, may this war never end..."
No time to say "Hello".
Goodbye.
I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 1:57 pm
((We need either the Hatter or the Knave of hearts, and less importantly, another human. I would rather have one of the first two. If my darling Hare doesn't post soon I'll go ahead and post anyway..))
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 5:00 pm
[[i certainly hope they weren't daunted by the monstrous posts up there...]]
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 8:56 pm
[[I will portray the Mad Hatter and the Knave of Hearts]]
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 10:27 pm
[[I'm just going to stick with White ^^]]
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Posted: Tue Jul 28, 2009 11:56 pm
((I have pictures for both if you need them. All I need is the picture and a couple sentences on the personalities of both. The hatter is kind fidgety, and he was best friend with Hare, keep that in mind. The Knave is technically neutral, but he fears the Queen of Hearts because of that old crime, where he supposedly stole her tarts. She still wants him dead. so like Hatter he would be hiding out somewhere between the Pale Court and the Queens Court.))
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Posted: Wed Jul 29, 2009 12:25 am
[[I have a couple photos burning to be used. ^^ I shall get started on that right away. The only issue I bring to you, is there going to be any more that side with her Majesty? Its kind of unevenly matched, being two against... well, everyone else. ^^]]
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