No pairing in part one (could become a two or three part story, which could make this fall into a series, only not at this time). MY Inspiration:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Movie, T.V. Series, Graphic Novels), Angel (T.V. Series, Graphic Novels), Alice in Wonderland (Original Novel, Disney’s old version of Alice in Wonderland 1951, American McGee’s “Alice” the game 2000, “Alice” (SyFy
channel 2009), Alice in Wonderland – Tim Burton’s Disney version 2010) Disclaimer:
This is my standard disclaimer; I don’t own anything in regards to the sources of MY Inspiration
. All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
All the characters, worlds, base concepts or general ideas are just a bit food for the writing bug. This story is pure fiction and is in no way meant to copy or reflect real life, events or people, should this happen then obviously it is pure coincidence. Section/Category/Warning:
YAHF – Xander-Centred – AU (sure, but probably more alternate dimension) – contains Non-Cannon (definitely) – Slash (Oh, Yeah! Only later, maybe a two or three part story) – Possible spoilers for the new 2010 Disney “Alice in Wonderland” by Tim Burton, a lot of references come from the film. Summary
: A mix of costumes and understanding of the Hatters from various genres and sources will make for a very interesting result. What about a Hatter that has visible mood ring-like eyes, good a turning a bargain with an excellent steel tough left hook, is very good at fixing broken clockworks and timepieces, plus has a neat parlour trick when pouring tea and can always pull a full pot of tea out of his hat? Speech Legend:
(This is the standard by which I write my stories and therefore you will not see this repeated in future chapters)
(…Other Languages/Mind Speak/Alternate Speech Patterns like sign language…)
Xander woke up late the morning after Halloween. Luckily it was a Saturday and he didn’t have to meet up with the gang until later in the afternoon in order to discuss the events of the night before. It was a good thing too because he woke up with a headache and it wasn’t a good one. More precisely it wasn’t one that he had a good time getting like at the Bronze or at some illicit party where the teens defied their parental units and drank or took various substances that turned them stupid.
It was a real pounding headache nevertheless. His body was aching and he didn’t want to move, but knew that he had to get up at some point today. The gang would be waiting.
He sighed; his eyes were burning dry too. That one...
He couldn’t explain.
It was not until he was well in the middle of his morning ablutions and chanced to look in the mirror that he found the probable cause of that
“Yipes,” he said with a startled yelp. “Whoah, that’s not good,” he muttered to himself, while leaning forward and staring at the changes he was seeing.
His naturally dark brown eyes had developed an extra ring of colour surrounding his ordinary colour. The ring was not overly large, but did bleed and fleck into his dark-brown ones creating an interesting effect. The extra ring of colour was currently a bluish-purple that faded back into a dark greenish-gold as he calmed down.
‘That’s not something you see every day
,’ he thought. ‘If a wondering one, were to wonder, I wonder what the wondering one would think about this.
’ His own thoughts were twisty, more so than usual and it caused him to consider that maybe, ‘...more than normally normal happenings happened last night.
He was still a little nervous about it, so the colour was flickering into the bluish-purple every time he considered the strangeness with the feeling of nervousness. His hair had flashes of orange in their depths now. That was strange too, but he felt closer to his Willow-shaped sister because of it. He didn’t mind this particular change, so long as it was just bits and pieces that were orangish-red and not his entire head.
‘That might have been too much,
’ he thought. ‘That one Hatter’s hair was too bright and orange for me.
’ He finished his ablutions and dressing for the day, when he was struck with the memories from the night before.
He sat down hard on his bed taking note of the old dusty grey top coat, with tails, draped over his battered student chair. On his tiny desk there was a pair faded white fingerless gloves tucked under an extremely squashed down brown top-hat with the 10s/6p
(...i...) square tag tucked into the band of it. Sitting on the top of the hat was a very large pocket watch that he didn’t where it came from, but suspected that he had built it during the night.
There was the stuffed little grey-white dormouse on the brim of the hat. Unfortunately it looked like it was not longer stuffed, as it was moving and running around the brim.
(...Don’ worry ‘bout it...) The mouse said to him while cleaning her whiskers. (...I’m not alive nor am I dead. I move and live for you. I doubt that your friends would notice me, but if they do, they do...) She shrugged and continued, (...and if they don’t, well they’ll think that you moved me about through nervousness. I be thinkin’ that ye’ll be the only one to understand me...) It paused and the qualified that with, (...Well that’ll depend on when the Cheshire Cat shows up. Said he’d visit from time to time, but for now is explorin’ ‘is limits...)
“He’s around?” Xander asked confused, but remembering something about calling out for that particular fictional cat. “What happened?”
(...You know what happened...) The mouse said with a pointed look, her cute black beady button eyes staring at him. (...You just don’t want to remember, but if you do then I suggest that you accept the changes...) It yawned and said lying down in a curl of ribbon to nap. (...Wear the hat, always I like traveling by brim and would like to see the town in daylight too…yawn
… when I wake up...zzz zzz
“The Cheshire Cat,” Xander said softly and then he shrugged his shoulders.
He decided put on the hat so he wouldn’t forget it and noticed that it was very comfortable to wear now. It fit so naturally that the weight was the only indication that it was there, but he somehow knew that should it be lost he would feel it. He took another look around his room and decided to clean it up in some sense, but mostly in non-sense, but it was sensible enough for him.
“Note to self,” he muttered. “Need to take notes, notes, rotes and totes...” He paused and thought, ‘I’m starting to sound a bit like Drusilla...oh man...
,’ his thought stuttered. ‘I helped her... oh man... the others are going to kill me
“Don’t get in such a tizzy,” a very long and large, smoky, toothy grin appeared in front of him. “So you helped her,” a fat cat appeared in front of him from a smoky vapour. “She gave you sound advice and without her, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Why do you say that?” Xander asked sitting back down on his bed. He continued to talk to the cat as though this was a normal everyday occurrence for him.
“You needed me to fetch the blood of her sire,” the cat replied. “It was interesting and fun. I chose to do it. Besides it looks like I’ll be with you longer than you think.” The cat suddenly stood up on its hind legs, took a couple of mincing steps, did a twirl and then did a swan dive. He leapt up into the air and dove into Xander’s forehead.
(...I’ll make a home in this space that you aren’t using in here...) The cat said internally to him. (...I’ll not be confined, but this will be a good safe place to take a nap from time to time...) The dormouse was there with the cat, sleeping soundly. A dark brown spotted hyena stepped out of the shadows, green eyes glowing. It curled up next to the other two creatures.
There were several male figures of varying shapes and sizes, wavering in and out of his conscious too. They looked at the creatures and knew that a merger of sorts with them would have to wait until the boy chose his own path. They would merge as needed and a few of the skills that he had used the previous night would still be available to him.
However it was now up to the primary personality to make a choice. The male figures didn’t want to stick around that much longer besides they were figments to begin with and had no real need, substance or ability to remain there. That’s what told him.
Xander took a deep breath and sighed. “I’ve watched too many ‘Alice
’ movies,” he muttered to himself. “What to keep, to keep or not to keep, all or nothing, some ‘o this or some ‘o that...”
He yawned, set his alarm to ring later in the day and then chose to lie back down on his bed. He turned onto his stomach, sprawling out like the other animals in his mind. The top hat covered his eyes and created a darkness that allowed him to slumber on through the morning.
He dreamed of the men in his mind. He dreamed of the cat and the mouse. He dreamed of the hyena that came out of the shadows once more, refusing to be caged ever again.
He dreamed of a late-night tea party with three porcelain dolls, one lovely lady, with hair of dark night, lips of red and skin snow-white, calling him the ‘Mad Kitten’.
(...i...) 10s/6p – 10 shillings & 6 pence was the going rate of felted top hats back in the day (info obtained from the web). Although the books and movies show 10/6, I changed it to a form that would make sense when Xander explained it to his friends... should they ask...