(no subject)
Who: Kilroy (Mad Hatter), May (The March Hare)
Where: Kilroy's house, Staten Island
When: Late, late, late Wednesday night
Why: May went shoe shopping and almost never came back
Rating: R for swearing I'm sure
Kilroy sat in his den, surrounded by dozens and dozens of televisions of different shapes and sizes flickering in the dark room. Each playing a different channel, they turned the room into makeshift static, noise that meant so many things at once it didn't really mean anything at all. That's how the Hatter liked it. That's how he understood the world, anyway. Kettle sat in his lap and sighed a cat sigh before rolling over as if there wasn't anything wrong. As if May wasn't ten hours late. As if her dinner wasn't waiting cold in the other room.
"Mind if I smoke, kitty?" He asked Kettle, who looked up at him as he reached for his pack of cigarettes. "Of course you do." Kilroy answered for her, pushed the cat off his lap and lit up as he walked out of the den, Kettle curling herself up in the warm circle his body left. The Hatter tried very hard not to think of the smug look Fred had on his face that day when he asked, pleaded to know where May was. He tried very hard not to doubt himself. A skill he had once perfected, but in the last couple of months had become rusty and unused.
Maybe...
He looked to the door as he heard it creak open and brought a finger to his necktie, loosing the blue fabric a little without undoing it and then walked towards the door without hurry. Maybe May thought she was going to come home to an empty house, and it sure looked that way, but he wouldn't let her get away that easy. Though he didn't know how much longer he could chase after her. Instinctively taking off his fedora, Kilroy ran his hand through his hair and stepped into the hallway. He opened his mouth to speak, but decided to let her have the honors.
Where: Kilroy's house, Staten Island
When: Late, late, late Wednesday night
Why: May went shoe shopping and almost never came back
Rating: R for swearing I'm sure
Kilroy sat in his den, surrounded by dozens and dozens of televisions of different shapes and sizes flickering in the dark room. Each playing a different channel, they turned the room into makeshift static, noise that meant so many things at once it didn't really mean anything at all. That's how the Hatter liked it. That's how he understood the world, anyway. Kettle sat in his lap and sighed a cat sigh before rolling over as if there wasn't anything wrong. As if May wasn't ten hours late. As if her dinner wasn't waiting cold in the other room.
"Mind if I smoke, kitty?" He asked Kettle, who looked up at him as he reached for his pack of cigarettes. "Of course you do." Kilroy answered for her, pushed the cat off his lap and lit up as he walked out of the den, Kettle curling herself up in the warm circle his body left. The Hatter tried very hard not to think of the smug look Fred had on his face that day when he asked, pleaded to know where May was. He tried very hard not to doubt himself. A skill he had once perfected, but in the last couple of months had become rusty and unused.
Maybe...
He looked to the door as he heard it creak open and brought a finger to his necktie, loosing the blue fabric a little without undoing it and then walked towards the door without hurry. Maybe May thought she was going to come home to an empty house, and it sure looked that way, but he wouldn't let her get away that easy. Though he didn't know how much longer he could chase after her. Instinctively taking off his fedora, Kilroy ran his hand through his hair and stepped into the hallway. He opened his mouth to speak, but decided to let her have the honors.