+ HER ANTIDOTE + | OPEN

[onlyredroses]

Who: The Queen of Hearts [onlyredroses], her Mirrors, and curious Real Things.
Where: The Core, Mirror Side
When: 7/22nd-7/23rd
Rating: PG-13 to be safe.
Summary: The Queen of Hearts gave an order, and those who followed it are to report to her at the Core. However, the rips are still present, so there may be a few stray Real Things making life difficult.
The Story:

The light of the Core is still flickering, temperamental as it's been for weeks. Then, at 11:58PM on the 21st, the Queen of Hearts is there in a blink, arms crossed.

"What are you doing in there?" she mutters. "Shouldn't you be preventing this? I shouldn't have to clean up your mess."

The Core, or whoever she's speaking to, predictably does not respond, and she huffs. Typical.

She pulls a pocket watch from a pocket of her dress and flicks it open with a frown. 12:01AM. The 22nd. Then, she looks down the hall. It has only been a minute and she is already growing very impatient, tapping her foot as she waits.

It would be in everyone's best interest not to keep her waiting too long.

[ooc: Prose or [brackets] are fine; I'll match! If you would like your character to have a traitor mark either added or removed, specify it somewhere in your tag and I'll get in touch with you about that! Anyone seeking to fight her will be disappointed though. She has business to attend to and will not entertain attackers (and will send them away), but this is a rare opportunity for any Reals who have wanted to speak with Her Majesty. And of course, your Mirrors may present their stolen sentimental items here. ♥]

Comments

[radiopalkiller]

Philip smiles wryly. He wonders if She genuinely expected him, if She already knows why he's here. Can read minds the way he can't, the way people worry he might. Or if She just makes it up as they goes along. There's a poorly digested dragon pointing rather strongly towards the latter, though he doesn't think that theory ought to be submitted for consideration.

"Didn't realise I had to substitute at the last minute," he tells Her, just the way She left him with. And wonders if She can even hear him Herself, the way other people can, but how far does people really apply to their Queen of Hearts? "Thought my Mirror would try harder to show up."

Not that Philip really knows what kept the thing, but there are unfulfilled duties, and he doubts that any sort of ambition was involved in their attempt. He never had to struggle to stay on the side of his choice. Still doesn't, come to think of it, not even now.

[onlyredroses]

As soon as he begins to speak in only the way he can, the Queen of Hearts smiles. It is brief, but it is there - a moment of pride that he is indeed using what she has left him, that he knows it was not such a hefty price to pay for life.

She sighs though, dramatic and for show. "I thought he would as well. What an utter disappointment he is. ...Not like you though."

No, Philip went out of his way to come here, to obey a command that was not explicitly given. And now, he will be rewarded with her undivided attention, and more affection than she typically shows Reals. He's different. He's one of hers now, in a way his Real Thing peers can never comprehend.

"So," she says, "does this mean you've brought something for me?"

[radiopalkiller]

Pride is-- Pride would be misplaced, practicality is the only reason for his trip, picking up somebody else's slack, surprised (but only barely) that others wouldn't consider it as well, they have to see that this is the right thing to do, the right idea no matter who it comes from, no matter the... the right thing to do, that is all that matters. And pride would be misplaced.

He nods, and slowly reaches into his back pocket.

His father's letter. A bookmark at the beginning of his journey, a journey which has since ended. Long ended, and left the writing... a reference. A reminder, in the way an old grocery list is a reminder. Useless now. All but meaningless now. And if it was gone... if it was gone, then his safe would contain one less piece of paper.

That is why it couldn't be your first choice. Your back-up plan. Not why you're here. Not why you brought her here.

His fingers touch the paper, but he moves them away. Instead Philip steps forward, pulling her along. Reluctant, Christ, she's never been before. Couldn't pick a worse time to grow wise, could she?

"Sentimental value, right?"

Applied to him those parameters yield poor results. Poor, but not quite nil.

Philip pulls on the end of Faraday's leash, and hands it over for the Queen to take.

[onlyredroses]

She watches as he reaches and then doesn't reach for his pocket. One might assume that whatever he has tucked away there is the superior item...

...but then, he offers her his dog's leash, and for one brief moment there is true and genuine surprise on Her Majesty's face. She receives the leash and stares down at the dog, entirely too shocked to be as terrifying as she ought to be.

Then, a smile spreads across her face. She knows what this gesture means, and she is absolutely delighted by it.

"Yes," she says. "Sentimental value. You have done well, Philip-- my Philip."

The Queen of Hearts does not often make corrections, but for once it is deserved.

[radiopalkiller]

A back-up plan, second place by a long stretch; inanimate though, in case that was one of the requirements as well. Philip watches Faraday resign herself to the transaction, and almost wishes it had been. Four years and two deaths, more than can be said for most residents here. A remembering constant, a companion where so many others left, a living and breathing-- A construct from Wonderland's magic, he corrects himself sharply, and he could have another, two more, a dozen like it. This particular one just... happened to have acquired the benefit of having become a habit. A benefit for Her, that is, and whatever she intends to do.

Philip nods.

"Will it help?"

He nods, and leaps to the next question fast, because needs must, that's what this is all about, picking up the slack because his Mirror failed, because Philip can't risk Wonderland failing. A shift covered, because needs must, not because the position appeals. Not... not because the position appeals.

"Will the-- will they help you get everything back in order?"

[onlyredroses]

"They will," she answers. "With these, the Core will settle. Things will become as they were."

The Queen of Hearts looks down at the dog between them, and then up at Philip once more. Then, she does something surprising...she moves closer to Philip.

"In fact," she adds, "I truly believe your contribution may help more than most. My Mirrors can only make educated guesses about what is and isn't valuable to their Reals. But you care enough to assess your own belongings, to make very difficult decisions and to sacrifice for the greater good."

But what is the greater good, exactly? It's difficult to say, but her overall affect is more affectionate than she's been with most of the others. She raises her free hand and caresses his cheek, his jawline. Her touch is warm.

"You knew it would hurt, and you did it anyway," she says. "And that alone makes her more sentimental than if she had been stolen away from you."

[radiopalkiller]

It hurts. Not Faraday's loss, not just yet. A slower brand of drug that one will be, kicking in once the door to his room closes, once he finds himself alone behind it, effects stacking with every sluggish movement to throw out the things that belonged to her, bed and bones and hair until the traces of her existence no longer grow edges sharp enough to cut him with the reminders. Not that. Not just yet.

But Her touch hurts, pulls, shakes. Something like creaking hinges and rusty gears, something like atrophied muscles that tremble as they try to bear the weight of something long-forgotten. Something like-- not like safety, not just quite. Not even She could keep him safe from all of Wonderland. Alive, yes. But those are not the same. No, this is...

Something like certainty.

Doubts lifted by Her touch, a weight grown so familiar Philip almost forgot that he carried it in the first place; a kind of relief so alien and unexpected it disturbs him even in its warmth and beauty. Disturbs him, because his choice was meant to be a singular decision; clinical, carefully measured in light of their problems, only coincidentally aligned with Her scheme, it wasn't--

It was not supposed to feel like trust.

Philip closes his mouth, only now realising that he'd been gaping. That the words Your Majesty had been uselessly on his lips, from where they could never leave. That... that he does. He does, doesn't he?

"Will you need anything more? From me?"

Trust Her.

[onlyredroses]

The Queen of Hearts watches his reaction with an unreadable stare, taking in each subtle movement in his face. She knows the comfort her touch brings, the feeling that he is hers. He has done so well for her, despite his inherent flaw of being Real.

"Hm." Gently, she pulls her hand away, resting those same fingers against her chin for a moment as she thinks. "Not currently. However..."

She flicks her wrist in a circle, and something small materializes in the palm of her hand - a small red compact, shaped like a heart. Then, she opens it and snaps it at the hinge, before handing one half of it to Philip.

"If I do, you will know," she says, firmly. "And should you have anything interesting for me, you'll know how to reach me."

Her own half of the compact is tucked away for safe keeping. With all the tenderness from before, she clasps her hands around Philip's.

"I can count on you - can't I?" Her words are almost uncharacteristically kind and soft, as if reserved for a certain kind of person, someone a step above her usual subjects. They are soothing but they are a trap, like hornets in a field of flowers.

[radiopalkiller]

His hands still, stretched out as they are. Empty at first, then with the mirror in their palm. Then surrounded by the Queen's, held unmoving long before She touched them.

Sweetness suits Her, the way it suits flesh-eating plants. Knocking behind the wall that so badly wants it to be real is the reminder that it is quite likely rather circumstantial at best. Surprisingly dull now, that sound. But sweetness is one thing; underneath Her fingers glints the other. Availability. A window, no matter how small, through which She might appear something other than an absent figure on their side. Now that is unexpected.

Philip makes himself nod quickly, realising that his train of thought will be on a journey far longer than She ought to be kept waiting for a response.

"I'll make good use of it. You--"

He fishes for a question to ask in return, because somehow it feels like he shouldn't leave without. But then, somehow it also feels like he shouldn't leave at all to begin with. Drawing a blank on inquiries he forces himself to draw back his hands as well, reluctant as can be, and slides the mirror half into his pocket.

"You can count on it."