when I opened my eyes
Who: Sunday, Tarrant
What: There are coincidences everywhere you look. On a trip to the Secondary Realms, Sunday bumps into someone...familiar - and someone he thought he wouldn't see again.
Where: IDK IN TB!WONDERLAND SOMEWHERE? 8| GOD, IDEK.
Notes: adorable awkward not-quite-friendships. Just. I don't even know ( Read more... )
What: There are coincidences everywhere you look. On a trip to the Secondary Realms, Sunday bumps into someone...familiar - and someone he thought he wouldn't see again.
Where: IDK IN TB!WONDERLAND SOMEWHERE? 8| GOD, IDEK.
Notes: adorable awkward not-quite-friendships. Just. I don't even know ( Read more... )
Comments 6
Thackery and Mally had wandered off some time ago--something about the good butter. He assumed they had been headed for the buttercup fields, but knowing them--and he did, entirely and utterly--they had gone off in search of something or other, and would be wandering and weaving for hours.
The Hatter had been changing the record over near the disjointed and sloping tables, scattered with their eternal teatime. He counted the ridges on the disk as he had done so many hundreds of times before. The last time he had listening to the thing was...
He shook his head, placing it back on the player.
She was gone now.
And what had happened--could have happened, may have, perhaps had--in some other unknown and unfamiliar Underland--
...
He turned, not only as his name, but that voice, promptly dropping the teacup in his hand.
"...Lord Sunday...."
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(Just because Denizens were supposed to be good at words didn't mean he was and really, he hadn't been cured completely and oh god this was so incredibly awkward what do I do.
Sunday was not prone to hysterical fits, so he chose to sputter incoherently in the privacy of his own head.)
He opted for tucking gloved hands in his pockets ( he was wearing clothing honestly more fit for tending to a garden - which was probably the point, as he had no idea what he'd been sent to do here other than 'take a break' and he couldn't much see the point of that either - and the dull colouring somehow made him stand out more ( ... )
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He was a head below the height he once was. His hair, the pallor of his skin--there was something deep in him, a spark that hadn't been there before--though still and stiff, he was different.
But he could feel it, right down to his blood and bones...it was his friend. His dear, short-lived friend--the one he had grown all too fond of before..before...
At his voice he nearly gives a start. He was half-expecting him to be a figment, a ghost even.
"It's...I..."
Tarrant took a few steps forward. Words wouldn't come. Which was down right odd. In these kinds of situations, he couldn't stop himself from babbling, but right now, well...
He was real.
That meant the other Wonder-Underland was real. And that meant--his home with Alice, his shop, his friend--..
"..Sunday. Oh, Sunday--!" He laughed, moving closer at last, overjoyed. "Oh--oh, gloriffic frabjous day! I'm so happy to see you!"
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Movement doesn't come very naturally to him, even now. Old habits die hard.
There are so many things he could say now.
"Oh? Did you miss me?"
There's more humanity in his movements, his expressions, than there ever was back in that other Wonderland; the smile is the most obvious, turning briefly from awkward to almost grudgingly amused. He shifts - nervous, a little - and almost shuffles his feet, and looks up at the sky.
"So, ah...how have you been?"
(He is human, almost fully now.
And sometimes, it hurts more than he can bear, but at other times, times like this when he does not know what to say, and it is because he truly doesn't and not because he can't know -
- it's worth it. The little awkward moments, for him, are the ones that make it...interesting. )
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