#Laertes The Strange Quilt

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Laertes isn’t sure where he’s going. Away, mostly. They just picked a random place to blip and started moving. She can’t think. She can barely breathe. Smoke pours out when they do.

She’s coming for him. Not just a faceless mannequin sent their way. Her.

@laertesthelocalstranger

Willard spots her faster than Amelie could even react, breaking out of their arms and running towards him with a loud, almost concerned meow, headbutting his legs.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie smiles a sad smile at him before leaving. This is as close as someone can get to experiencing what they used to, how they felt.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

It’s about a day and a half into things that Laertes remembers that starving is slow. He does what he can to aid the process, and between the destruction of every strange object in that room, and the eyes drawn or taped on every surface, he’s certainly feeling much weaker.

Still. This is getting dull, and if he wants it done right, Laertes needs…additional resources.

She pokes around the back of the library. Amelie should be out, Laertes checked the schedule. They don’t want to talk to it.

Watcher, watcher, watcher… He thought-murmurs to himself, flipping through volumes for anything that makes her feel any more horribly exposed than she already does.

@laertesthelocalstranger

Amelie comes back to the library with tea in hand. They set it down on their desk, proceeding to check through the shelves. It hears an odd sound,ears swiveling to find the source of it. Rats? It couldn't be rats,why would there be rats here?

It carefully moves closer.

"Hello,is anybody here-"

Fae freezes upon seeing a familiar face.

"Quilt,what are you doing here,friend¿?"

[laertesthelocalstranger]

He holds the door open for them, keeping their eyes on the ground. Damn, this is exhausting. They really chose to be like this?

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie follows him silently, thinking about how it finally will get a chance to leave the remnants of its old life behind. They will no longer be haunted by the younger them who had to lie to others in order to be perceived as something they weren't.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

“Alrighty then!” They pluck it from them, assuming softer features, a quieter tone. Though his appearance doesn’t change at all, Amelie could barely be able to distinguish them from old pictures of itself.

“Right this way.”

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie nods slowly.

"I think it's time to leave that behind,so I think I can give it up."

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

“Depends. Do you ever pretend it’s still you?” He wanders back, somehow covered in soot and glitter.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

He notices eventually, blipping to their side with a playfully innocent expression. It really just makes them look like the mischievous fae they are.

“What? This place getting to ya?” He teases.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"I think I can't leave through my door¿? It feels like this place has a rule for exiting. I just don't know what."

It says, quietly, fidgeting with a curl. It wishes the Eye wasn't this confused.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

"I... Does an old self count?¿ A name I no longer use."

It asks hesitantly.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

“Hmm. Well, you do in fact need that to get out. So that would be helpful, I think.” They start to wander back into the fringes of the crowd, already distracted.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

“Aww, did I get boring?” He jokes, grinning wide. Still, they take it by the elbow and start weaving in and out of the spinning crowd, towards the main entrance. It’s disorienting, to say the least, but quieter near the front.

“Got any masks?”

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

Amelie blinks in confusion. It never thought about it.

"...I'm not sure."

It says quietly. Does the old them count as a mask? Alice Liddel is dead, and pretending to be them essentially means wearing a mask,right?

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[speyeralling-down-thy-majesty]

They laugh and have fun until Amelie feels it's time to leave. Something in it tells fae that it's not going to be able to just door out.

So it just stands there,head tilted in confusion.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.

[laertesthelocalstranger]

They laugh. “Exactly!” The mural of spirals is spreading, coating the ceiling and floor. It incorporates nicely into the din. Somebody manages to trip on it like a carpet.

In a building that isn’t a building anymore, something pulses with rhythm and laughter, making its impossible claim to the world all around. It beats on, like the savage thumping of feet against the ground, like the unstoppable procession of a growing wildfire, like the sound of a wooden heart finally ready to dance.

There is a figure amidst the knowledgeless discord, stoking the formless flames, feeding the whirlwind of uncertainty. A new ringleader presides over the circus. She is the theater, and they are the chaos taking it, and it is more than the doll in the basement ever pretended to be.