[OPEN] We'll Take A Cup of Kindness Yet

[nascensibility]

Who: EVERYONE, but especially you!
Where: Wonderland Ballroom
When: New Year's Eve
Rating: PG - PG13 (will change if applicable)
Summary: New Year's Eve Party
The Story:

[The morning of December 31st, all residents will receive a handwritten invitation slipped under their door.]



You are cordially invited to attend a party
celebrating the New Year

Wonderland Ballroom
8 pm - 1 am

Semi-Formal Attire
Buffet & Bar
No RSVP Required

All Ages Welcome

For inquiries, contact E. O'Connell

[Punctuality in planning is important: the ballroom itself will only be ready for guests at exactly 8 o'clock, bedecked in glittering golds and the red-green of Christmas' vestiges, still clinging to the old year. Dining tables surround a central dance floor, bars and buffets dot the edges of the room and both holly and mistletoe are expressed liberally through the interior.

Mingle, dance, eat and be merry! The New Year will come in at midnight - the band will play and the drinks will flow for long after.]

Comments

[theothermrgray]

Tim's at a social gathering? With other human beings? Maybe the world is going to end at the stroke of midnight.

However, sitting in the corner with a pack of cigarettes is no way to enjoy a fancy party. Dorian shall remedy this with a sacrifice; He brought a few cigars to smoke on the roof after the festivities died down, for they were for special occasions and there wasn't really a smoking room in Wonderland. However, he didn't mind coming up to poor, brooding Tim and offering him a taste.

"Here," he says as he hands over the cigar like he had been asked for one, "I thought you might like this."

[postictal]

Cigars. Bit classier than usual to a guy with a palette for the cheap and simple, but what the hell, right? It's New Year's Day, or whatever passes for it in a time and place where the years hardly count at all.

He accepts the offering with only a faint hum of surprise, lighting it up somewhat clumsily; it's thicker and heavier than the cheap stuff made of paper.

"Not used to these things," he admits after a moment. The scent feels oddly clingy, though no less thick. "Thanks, though."

[theothermrgray]

Well, he accepted the gift. There's a start.

"It's got a unique flavor, doesn't it?"

He casually scans the immediate area for a wine glass, but as there is none to be found, he shall intoxicate himself on conversation. After all, one ought to keep their wits sharp when dealing with a flighty creature like Tim.

"I thought you might enjoy something special, since, apparently, you can't drink."

[postictal]

"No. I can't." He picks the words out carefully. Dorian's already turning the conversation onto the subject of Tim, a deft turn of which he is both uncomfortably aware and desperate to avoid whenever possible. "Still, doesn't mean I can't kill myself in other ways."

Regardless of whether or not it's typical to be droll about this sort of thing, he doubts it'll matter much in the long run. If that other Wonderland is their future - then, shit, why bother hiding it?

Habit, mostly. Habit and good, old-fashioned paranoia. He'll be double-checking his medication schedule. He's never letting that little freak out if he can help it.

[theothermrgray]

"Yes, and I bet the powers that be here are happy to provide options."

He chuckles lightly, bringing a facade of mirth to a grim subject. Morbid jokes can be fun every so often.

"It makes me wonder, though. If Wonderland is going to keep us exactly as it found us, then wouldn't it do the same about our health? Think about it; You could probably smoke as many packs a day as you like, and you'd still be as healthy as you were when you found yourself here."

[postictal]

Oh, but they certainly are. You get sent to hell, for starters. That had been a thrilling escapade for everyone.

Tim makes a face at that pronouncement. Not sure he really likes the sound of that. Part of the appeal of picking up smoking in the first place was the almost surefire certainty that eventually it'd drain him dry.

"Yeah, that's what you wanna hear," he mutters.

[theothermrgray]

Yep. That's Tim. Always a pessimist.

"... Well," Dorian muses, "At least we can finally get some sleep. Surviving without it for a week was a nightmare."

[postictal]

"Speak for yourself," says Tim, and immediately regrets it. He's never slept easy, but it's not like Dorian - or anyone else - strictly needs to know that.

So he shifts the subject, clumsily.

"Weird-ass other world, huh?"

[theothermrgray]

Eh, it's technically conversation. He'll take it.

"Very. I haven't seen that much white in one place outside of a snowstorm!" He chuckles, just a bit to lighten the mood.

"The inhabitants were rather interesting to speak to as well... That can't be what will happen to us in the near future, can it?"

[postictal]

"God, I hope not." He inhales, long and deep, to give himself time to process the question, and how best to step around the myriad issues that rise like smoke. "Not like there's ever been a White Queen around, anyway."

And anything that keeps people from learning about his past, his issues - well, that's gotta be better. It has to be.

[theothermrgray]

"You never know," Dorian shrugged, "She might have existed at some point, future or past."

Dorian goes along with the conversation hoping to perhaps get Tim to warm up to him. It's a slow process, but Wonderland gives him all the time in the world.

"Perhaps that's the secret to staying sane in Wonderland. You must have an open mind for whatever it presents you."

[postictal]

"If the people's minds here were any more open, they'd be falling outta their skulls," Tim deadpans. Even the people who've been here for a while don't seem to take every event in stride, especially when it's something from their home.

"It's fishy either way." He hisses out a breath of smoke, shaking his head. "If Wonderland can take all our memories at once like that, why not do that now? Why take things away bit by bit?"

He's doing little more than musing aloud, but it's a step up from his typical reticence.

[theothermrgray]

"Why indeed." So this is working. Tim is finally going somewhere in his conversation for once.

"Perhaps it's like a mosquito," Dorian theorizes in a lazy way of thinking. "A mosquito drains innocent people of blood, but it is so small and has a mouth so tiny that it can only take a few drops at a time."

He smiles, pondering what he himself just said. "If that was true, that we would have lost so much more at once if Wonderland was an actual world, and not just a small area floating in space."

[postictal]

"That still doesn't explain why everybody in that dream lost - everything. You saw that room full of jars, right?"

Jars with memories inside them, according to George. So he can't just claim that people got reckless or careless in selling memories to vendors over time. That wouldn't even make sense on such a wide scale. But no - those memories were taken from them. And then...kept.

But why.

[theothermrgray]

Dorian falls silent for a moment.

Throughout that whole event, he saw messages scrawled on the mirrors. Messages in hand, written in blood-red paint. He hadn't trusted that horrid Mirror of his since the day after everyone returned from Hell, and early on Dorian was sure his reflection was leading him into a trap.

Though, as the event wore on and insomnia was taking its toll, the Mirror kept asking the same questions to anyone who would speak to him and shared new suspicions about that room in the attic. Suspicions awoke curiosity, sleeplessness drowned sense, and at last Dorian couldn't help but take a peek....

"..." He nodded, somberly. "Were those... Everyone's memories?"

[postictal]

"From what I hear, yeah. One per person."

He hadn't nabbed any. He'd had no one he was willing to risk that much for, let alone himself. His mind is fucked up enough as it is; whatever the Queen, White or Red or otherwise, is able to do with it, it's not like she'll be significantly altering the state of things.

If Jay were here -

But he's not.

[theothermrgray]

Dorian hadn't touched them either, that much was clear. They were so beautiful in their glowing radiance that he wouldn't dare disturb them. Indeed, the whole situation reminded him of home, but instead of hiding her own sins the White Queen was hiding everyone's memories.

If people were loosing their memories in the real Wonderland as well...

"... Do you think there might be a room here that holds the missing memories of the people here?"

[postictal]

"I have no idea, honestly." If there is, he doubts it'll be as easily accessible as the White Queen made it in that imaginary world.

"Doesn't matter anyway," he says, shrugging as he takes a finishing drag from the cigar. Different stuff than he's used to - not a cheap paper-rolled thing. "The two Wonderlands were pretty...pretty different. Not likely there's a lotta correlation there."

[theothermrgray]

"True," Dorian nods, giving the idea some thought, "This one's much more colourful, to start. It wouldn't have hurt anyone to paint over the white one and give it some sort of detail?"

And Tim finishes off his gift. "How did you like the cigar?" He smiles, hoping that Tim would enjoy something of higher quality than a plain ol' cigarette.

[postictal]

"It was, uh...it was good. Can't say I've had one before." Never been able to afford to splurge, for one. It was a generous showing, even if now, surprise of all surprises, there's that lingering guilt that he can't exactly return the sentiment.

"Thanks," he adds, since that's pretty...pretty standard for this kinda thing. Probably.

[theothermrgray]

Ah, the appreciation. It may not be sincere, but at least Tim is starting to trust him, unlike some people.

"Anytime! Glad to see you appreciate it."

[postictal]

Trust? Unlikely. Fondness is likewise a difficult thing to win from him, even for those he's actually come to get along with and speak to semi-regularly.

It's not hostility. One can say that much.

"I should probably..." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. Head back to his room so he can persist in not sleeping for hours at a time, or something along those lines.

[theothermrgray]

Close enough.

"Need to sleep already?" Dorian playfully coos at the other man. "Very well. Happy new year, Tim."

[postictal]

"Yeah," he says, vaguely, waving with a halfhearted lethargy as he departs. "You, uh. You too."

However "happy" years are here, anyway.