The Adventures of Leto in Wonderland, Part One, Thursday Fandom-Time (NFB-Distance)
Leto
He had done this once before, but it had been accidentally. Leto had no clue to opening doors to Wonderland, and was uncertain which rules applied to that place. Also, as this was Alice's realm, he had a feeling a change of rules would have to be taken into account.
Before, he had been in Spice trance, and the mind expanding properties of the drug would no doubt help. Alice he couldn't see - her destiny was hidden to him, but occasionally there was a trace, a hint, of not-being-there. Not quite invisibility, rather a sense of things unknown. If he could find the direction, then perhaps...
The Spice trance was not a danger to him anymore. He had taken control of the ancestors within, and his changing body adapted to Spice easily, allowing him to consume more than any human without danger. As he looked around the room, the walls dissolved. They were there and not there, unbuilt and in ruins, the floor covered in footsteps and voices yet unheard whispered in the still evening air.
A soft breeze drew his attention. He could not place it in time, or even if it was part of his own breath. The whole room, no, the entire palace, was his lungs, and where he drew in air, he could smell the sand. And he knew the scent of Alice's skin, the warmth of her, and the empty space where she had stood. This room, and a step sideways. He placed his feet fog hadn't cleared the view of time, and followed.
Stumbling, the trapdoor opened beneath him and he fell, landing on coarse grass.
Leto
Leto sat up. The world around him was closed, fixed in time. There where to directions, no paths in view. He couldn't see Alice.
What he did saw was a high hedge surrounding him. He got to his feet. A maze? It wasn't a wellkept place. Only one way led out of here, and he had to break a few branches to get past it. They snapped like thin twigs in his hands, and some of his anger and frustration found an outlet there.
Right or left? He had no way of telling. Either way were partially blocked by brambles. They didn't hurt his skin, of course, but made moving through this place slower.
"ALICE!"
His voice, amplified by the roar of the worm, echoed through the maze.
A Boojum
There was no reply; perhaps there was no Alice that heard him, or perhaps no Alice chose to answer. Perhaps there was no Alice.
There was, instead, a howling spectre circling in the air, its robes dark and macabre, and its face skeletal. It sensed vitality, here, and vitality was what it craved.
The boojum opened its terrible mouth and let loose its death scream, the force of it nearly visible in the air.
Leto
The noise made Leto wince, and it was almost painful. He could imagine what it would do to an ordinary human. But he was not human anymore, and the rock that he picked up and hurled at the creature became a much more effective weapon in his hands.
"SHUT UP!" If the thing was at all affected by voice, it would fall silent.
A Boojum
The creature flinched as Leto's rock struck it, and worse, the Voice seemed to have silenced its death scream. It flew closer, hoping to get its incorporeal hands on Leto, unsure of what it might do then. Perhaps it would be able to scream again when this foreign wizard released its cruel spell?
Leto
The thing came closer. That wasn't a wise choice, and Leto decided it probably wasn't that intelligent. A sudden leap into the air, higher than it would expect from a human - although, did it expect humans? - and Leto could grab its neck and try to snap it.
A Boojum
The boojum suddenly exploded into a column of orange light, with tiny skulls erupting from where its mouth had been.
With that, the maze was quiet once more.
Leto
Landing on the ground, Leto caught his breath. That had been easy enough, but it didn't mean anything. He could fight. He was indestructible. As long as it didn't rain. Leto looked up at the sky.
The possibilities were endless and he could see no clear path, either in vision or in this maze. There was no guide here, and no map, just twisting and turning paths between narrow hedges and sharp thorns. He walked, then came to dead end, turned, chose a different path, and then another dead end. By this time Leto had lost all sense of direction.
The Cat
On top of a nearby hedge was a smile. Only a smile, wide and bright. The mouth was moving, and a voice came out.
"You seek order where there is none. Embrace its absence. The rules do not favor you. Change them."
While the mouth was speaking, the outline of a mangy gray cat was fading in; one covered in tattoos, and with a gold hoop in its left ear.
"I did not expect you. The surprise is a pleasant one."
Leto
The smile caught his attention. It was rare to see just a smile without a body to go with it. When the odd-looking cat came into view it was almost a relief, but perhaps that was also because of the friendly greeting.
"Another game, then?" Leto asked, unable to stop himself from smiling now. "And what do you know of me?"
The Cat
"Everything here is a game," the Cat smiled. "The trick is knowing the rules. You are a visitor to our lands, are you not? Next, I imagine you will ask where the Queen is, though I would strenuously advise against that."
Leto
This was familiar. Leto grinned at the cat and said: "Yes, I am a visitor, and I won't heed your advice. Where is the Queen? I need to speak to her."
The Cat
The Cat tsked. "Unfortunate that you do not listen," he sighed. "The Queen is in hiding. As a loyal subject, I cannot disclose her whereabouts."
The Cat was fading out, now, leaving only his smile behind. It remained a few seconds longer than the rest of his body, then it, too, disappeared.
Leto
"Wait! Don't go!" Leto called, but the smile had already faded. If that was a loyal subject, did it mean Alice was aware that he was here?
"I have to find her!"
Where had the cat gone?
The Cat
If Leto was looking at the same hedge as before, he would miss the sight of the Cat fading in again. For the cat had moved to a different hedge, this one behind Leto and to his left.
"The trick is knowing the rules," the Cat repeated. "Allow us to begin again. Welcome, strange visitor to our lands. You must be lost."
If the boy didn't understand the catch, the Cat would hint further. Alice was far more stubborn than he.
Leto
This was no doubt rules of Alice's making. Leto straightened, then said: "I am not. I'm trying not to find the Queen."
The Cat
"How very fortunate," the Cat said. His smile seemed to grow bigger. "In that case, I see no trouble with helping you out of this maze, and towards whatever it is that you might like to see in our fair Wonderland."
He could offer some suggestions, of scenic places to visit. Or scenic places to specifically avoid, as they were dreadful and dull.
Regarding the immediate maze, the Cat surveyed it once with a flick of its tail. "The maze itself is not following the rules," he said, echoing his earlier thoughts. "Neither should you. Focus on a place outside of it, such as that peak, and direct yourself there. Do not let the hedges dictate your path."
The hedges, after all, were cheating, and trying their best to confuse him.
"I shall meet you there," the Cat said, his body fading out once more.
Leto
Finally advice that sounded useful. Odd, perhaps, but not surprising, Leto thought. He should have considered it himself.
Looking straight at the peak, he imagined himself in the desert, running towards the rocks of Sietch Tabr. Using the same energy he took a step forward, then started running. Through the hedges, mostly, occasionally leaping over, and it made him laugh. He was dictating his own path, bringing a desert storm to this place.
Eventually, he found himself on the slope of the hill. It seemed much smaller here.
The Cat
"You take direction well," the Cat said, his voice appearing before his smile, and his smile before his body, as was the order of such things. "The maze's snares must wait for another victim."
The cat glanced up at the top of the hill. It had flattened into a plateau. Although much of the rock formation was black and volcanic in nature, the very top had a light dusting of sand. There was no sign of the burning house which had stood there, the last time this peak had risen from the ground. Troubling. That implied that the Jabberwock had switched targets.
"The way to go is not the path to take," the Cat continued. "Cuts which are short can nevertheless be quite deep. I would advise circumspection. Move around what it is you need to move past."
For example, this hill.
Leto
Leto looked at the cat, almost amused. An interesting loyal subject, this one. He'd ask Alice about him later.
Feeling more confident, he said: "I'm not easily hurt."
The Cat
"There is more at stake than your body, young Emperor," the Cat elaborated. "However, I am only a guide. The choice is yours. What you do not seek does not lie beyond that hill."
The Cat began to fade once more, this time for good.
"I wish you luck. I fear you will need it."
Leto
Not encouraging, but at least he had a direction. And instinct told Leto to trust the cat, in that he would be cautious walking up that hill. He had no time for detours.
Leto
Having torn through the maze, no longer confined to its paths, Leto found himself in a more familiar landscape. The sanddunes stretched towards the horizon. But this was not Dune. Water burst from the ground, hot and steaming, at intervals. Instinctively Leto moved away.
Water was the most painful thing he knew now.
The Jabberwock
This was not Dune. This was not a physical place, but a mental one; this was all of Leto's fears and insecurities made real.
That was how the Jabberwock functioned. That was what he fed upon. Guilt, anxiety, nightmares, all the dark crawly things that slithered away when rocks were lifted up.
The creature himself had not come into view, but his dark, thick voice preceded him.
"What a fascinating specimen you are," he rumbled. If it sounded as though he was enjoying this ... he was.
Leto
That voice was far more disturbing than any odd creatures attacking. Leto tried to locate the direction of the sound, feeling a tingle of uneasiness.
"You do not know me."
The Jabberwock
The figure who was appearing, now, was many times taller than Leto, though not as ominous as a sandworm. He was green, and somewhat lizard-shaped, though much of his body had been replaced by clockwork, compliments of a quite Mad Hatter. The wings were smaller and white, and his head was smaller and rounded.
The voice seemed deep enough for a monster much larger than he; for a monster made from a tar pit, perhaps.
"You believe that you know everything," the Jabberwock said. "You see the future and try to evade it. You make yourself a monstrosity to combat it. You cling to humanity as it slips from your fingers. Are those still fingers, on your hands?"
Leto
The size or the ugliness of the creature didn't bother Leto, but its words did.
"What do you know about that?" he asked. "And I assure you, my fingers can hold a knife well enough to cut your heart open, if you have one."
The Jabberwock
"I know more than you can imagine," the Jabberwock continued. "I know what you are capable of. The cruelty that lurks in your soul, so long as you believe yourself to be right. To further your precious Golden Path. The one that even now, you question the wisdom of."
Leto
"You know nothing!" Leto spat, his anger rising. Inside, however, the ancestors stirred. How does he know?
The Jabberwock
"A broken boy who fears his father's fate," the Jabberwock intoned. As he did so, the steam geysers shot ever higher. "A false prophet, a mad emperor, a mutilation who breaks all that he claims to love. Your child and her mother will suffer for your barbarity."
How easy it was, to see the dread that lied upon someone's heart and wield it as a weapon.
"Your Golden Path is a worthless lie."
Leto
Leto tried to move out of reach of the steam, but one hand was drenched in hot condensed water, and he cried out in pain.
"Liar! You're trying to turn me against myself." But seeing which was game being played was easier than winning it.
The Jabberwock
"You are already against yourself," the Jabberwock said. "I have no need to defeat you. You cannot win."
More geysers were shooting from the ground, now, peppering the field.
The Jabberwock seemed to be growing taller. Or perhaps he was only standing straighter, feeding on all of Leto's insecurities and doubts, now dredged to the forefront.
"You will have that death you so crave."
Leto
Leto fell to his knees, his skin aching. With a dry laugh, he replied: "You can't kill me, even if I wanted you to."
This water wasn't enough. It just hurt.
The Jabberwock
"Allow me to test that theory." The Jabberwock swung its arms and jumped high, flapping its clockwork wings to give it flight.
He intended to land on, or very near to, Leto, so the boy might wish to move.
Leto
And Leto did move, although not completely out of the way. He drew his crysknife, aiming a stab at the beast. Landing on someone usually meant you had to expose some vulnerable skin in the process.
The Jabberwock
The crysknife sank deep. The Jabberwock roared, voice terrible and strange in his agony. His wings flapped, and great gushes of blood mixed with oil were flowing from the bizarre clockwork innards that made up the Jabberwock's torso.
In rage, the Jabberwock called deep into the earth, summoning more water. More steam. More sand. More pain.
His eyes sent sharp, blasting rays at the boy who played emperor, even as his lifeblood was pooling at his feet.
Leto
The pain cut through him again, but Leto felt it less as his opponent bled. He aimed another stab at the creature, this time aiming for an eye. It shielded itself with words. The best protection would be deafness, like against one who mastered the Voice. As Leto leapt forward, he shouted:
"DO NOT MOVE!"
Disobeying would be hard.
The Jabberwock
The Jabberwock's eye came out, easily. Should Leto have liked, he might have kept it to fuel a staff.
The monstrous creature howled in pain, keeling over. He could not disobey, but his death-throes were not wiling movement; they were the buckling of its knees, and the collapse of his body pulled down by gravity, as he no longer had the ability to stand. And still the disobedience tore at him, piling agony upon agony.
More blood, more oil, more tortuous thrashing, and it was done. The Jabberwock was slain, by a crysknife and not a vorpal blade this time.
He would return. He always returned. But for now, he was indeed dead.
Leto
Leto wiped blood and oil from his face. The oil had been unexpected, but he had lived in Fandom, and he knew Wonderland was a place of strangeness.
If the Jabberwock rose from the dead here, Leto wouldn't be waiting. He sheathed the crysknife and walked on.
(Preplayed with the glorious future_sandworm. Part 1 of 2! NFI, NFB, but as always, OOC is love.)