Name: Clement, a Latin name meaning "mild" or "gentle".
Personality: Clement the Dormouse is as laid-back as they come. Not much bothers him, and it is very rare that he is plagued by stress. Then again - how can life be a hassle when you are relaxing all the time? That is Clem's main hobby: relaxing. Most of the time, he can be found asleep. This narcolepsy of his can be problematic, however. While he is talking or telling a story, the poor little guy often drifts off to sleep in mid-sentence. It never seems to phase him, though. When he wakes up, he just keeps right on going where he left off. Clement can be very jittery or skittish at times, particularly over the mention of a ca-...c-a-t. Any mention of the world will wake him straight up and send him flailing around in a panic. Don't mention those sorts of things; he'll be frightened for hours. Once he calms down from spells like that, he usually drifts back to his normal habits. Ah, the carefree life of a Dormouse~ Everything is taken in stride, one step at a time.
General Prompt: Your Dormouse has gotten himself lost in Wonderland[and/or]the Looking Glass World - write of his experience. Clement was dreaming, or at least he
thought he was. Blinking sleepily, the Dormouse rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up. This couldn't be right. This place he was in, it wasn't home. It was some place different. By the looks of things, it was a world that would appear straight out of one of his dreams. Everything was backwards or topsy-turvy, not right at all.
"How...how did I get here?"
Oh, well. Standing around, he knew, wouldn't do him much good. If he wanted to get an idea of where he was, he would have to look around. The trouble was where to begin. The signs posted on the tree in front of him weren't much help. Arrows that read 'this way,' and 'that way,' didn't exactly give him the best inclination of which way he wanted to go. Even so, there wasn't much that could be done. So, with a shrug of his shoulders and staggering steps, Clement made his way in the direction of 'the roundabout way'.
If there was one thing that could be said about this Wonderland, it's that it was interesting. The strange little creatures and the backwards way of it all most definitely kept his attention. At least, well enough to keep him awake, that is. For three hours, Clement stumbled through the odd forest, until he finally came to a house. Outside of it was a big long table with many chairs, and near the end sat an older (and rather mad looking) gentlemen. The man wore a big hat on the top of his head. Next to the man sat a hare. He looked quite mad, too, but the Dormouse didn't say anything.
"Oho," the Hatter cried out, "what do we have here?!"
It was the Hare's turn to pipe in then. "It's a dormouse, by the looks of things!"
"I-..I have a name, you know," Clement told them, trying his hardest not to fall asleep where he stood. "It's Clement."
"That's a good name, too," noted the Hare, "but you're still a dormouse, so Dormouse is what we will call you."
At this point, the Dormouse had no desire to argue. Rather than fighting, he decided to join the two odd characters and relax in one of the chairs. They were certainly comfortable, he noted to himself as he sat down. "These chairs are nice..." The Hatter nodded. "We know. Though, you might be more comfortable on a plate." A plate? He had to be kidding. "I doubt it. There's no way a plate is as comfortable as a chair."
"Have you tried it?"
"No, I haven't, but-.."
"Well, then try it," snapped the Hatter, "and then tell me it isn't as comfortable."
Sighing, Clement climbed up on to the plate. What choice did he have? It was either that, or anger the crazy Hatter even more. "See? It's not comfor-..." It happened almost instantly. Within seconds of settling down on the plate, the Dormouse's eyes drooped shut, and he drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Perhaps the plate was better after all? When the Hare saw the Dormouse asleep on the plate, he couldn't help but chuckle.
"I knew he'd like it," the Mad Hatter said, careful not to wake Clement from his slumber. "Looks like he'll be staying here in Wonderland for a while."
Character Prompt: It's unusual indeed for the Dormouse to be wide awake - what happened to cause this rare occurrence, and what happens next?"That blasted little girl," mumbled the March Hare irritably, "why'd she have to go and mention a ca-..c-a-t?"
Off at the far end of the table, Clement was shaking like a leaf. His eyes were wide, and it looked like he hadn't slept all night. Obviously, there was something that was bothering him. He was frightened after something Alice had said before she left, and there was no way he'd be able to sleep now. She had said the word that frightened him the most - the word that he never wanted to hear. Just thinking about it gave him the heebie-jeebies! Alice had said 'cat'.
"C-c-c-caaat, cat, caaat," the Dormouse stammered as he hugged himself for comfort, "c-c-c-c-caaaat~"
The Mad Hatter, clearly worried for his little mouse friend, wrapped his arms around him and pulled Clement into a hug. "Don't worry, lad, you'll be fine." In an attempt to help him feel better, the March Hare grabbed a jar of jam and said, "The Mad Hatter is right. You'll be good as new in no time."
Poor Clement. It wasn't often that he got this shaken up, but when he did, it was never good. He'd tremble for hours on end, unable to sleep or eat for fear that a cat would come and attack him. When it first happened, the Hare and the Hatter had tried everything they could think of to calm him down. Mayonaise, mustard, tea -- none of it worked. The two of them were about ready to give up when they thought to try the jam.
Grabbing a butter knife, the Hatter dipped it into the jam and spread it over the Dormouse's nose. His shaking subsided slowly over the next few minutes until it was finally gone, leaving the little guy in a limp heap on his plate. He was exhausted, by the looks of things. "Poor Dormouse," whispered the Hare while giving him a pat on the head. "You just get some sleep."
Neither of them had to tell Clement twice. He was out in a matter of seconds, dreaming peacefully about treacles, tea, and cats getting just what they deserved.
Carroll Prompt: The Dormouse never did get to finish his treacley tale - well, it's time for him to!By the time Clement had woken up again, the girl named Alice had already gone off. This didn't appear to phase him. After rubbing his eyes sleepily and glancing around, he continued on with his story. Both the Mad Hatter and the March Hare had anxious looks on their faces; they wanted to hear the end of the story. So, once he had yawned one more time, the Dormouse went back to it.
"M was their favorite letter, you know..." he murmured, eyes droopy from being so tired.
The Hatter and the Hare gazed at each other and then shrugged. Of course, they hadn't known that. "Interesting," said the Hatter, "most interesting. M is my favorite letter, too." The March Hare only nodded in agreement as he took a sip of tea. The less interruptions for Clement, the better. He'd be less likely to fall back asleep that way.
"They were learning to draw to impress their mum. Whoever drew the best drawing of muchness," he went on, curling up on his plate, "gets a treacle cake." At this, the eyes of the mouse's companions widened. "A treacle cake," said the Hare, "wonderful, wonderful! A most admirable prize." The Mad Hatter, on the other hand, had something else on his mind.
"Wait -- but if they win a treacle cake, wouldn't that make them more ill?"
The Dormouse, who had drifted off to sleep once more just a few moments before, awoke with a jolt. "Wha-...? No.." To wake himself up, Clement shook his head and took a sip of tea. "The cake was something that could make them well. But only one of the sisters would get it, so whoever drew the best picture, won."
"Ahhhhh," the Hatter and Hare replied in harmony, "makes sense."
"Elsie, the eldest," said Clement, pausing for a moment to think of what happened next, "her paper was blank. 'Why is your paper blank,' asked her sister. All Elsie could do was shrug. She hadn't drawn much of muchness." Shifting to get comfortable, the Dormous was now sitting up on his plate instead of lying down. This way, he'd be able to finish his story much better. "Tillie - she's the smallest - had a little bit drawn. But you know, a little bit of muchness doesn't look very good."
The March Hare shook his head, his face scrunching in disgust. "It certainly doesn't!"
Now at the climax of the story, the drowsy Clement raised his hands up in the air for emphasis. "In the end, Tillie drew the most of a muchness! Her mother was so pleased that she gave her the treacle cak--..." In the middle of his sentence, the little Dormouse collapsed back down on to his plate. Instinctively, he curled up, having fallen asleep right at the end of his story.
His companions, however, didn't seem to mind. Instead, both of them waved it off and sipped at their tea. "It was a good story," remarked the Hatter. The Hare agreed wholeheartedly. "The little guy is such a wonderful storyteller. If only he could stay awake long enough to finish what he started..."
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