Rabbit And Hare

Day 3 headcanon

Sweet headcanon day!

• As stated yesterday I say he wears tap dancing shoes and of course knows how to dance.

• He's half french on his mother's side.

• Wanted to be a cook before his "talent" manifested.

• He wants to be friends with a lot of the rogues, but comes off as pushy and way to touchy.

• He's afraid of silence and being forgotten.

• This has lead him to be terrified of EVER losing his voice

• He likes to have great hygiene.

• Pansexual

• Mostly gets along with the other theatre rogues

~This next one is for my dearest friends, and part of the "Horsewoman gals" of the music man~

• He wanted to call the horsewomen the "Sirens" but sadly it was already taken.

• Adding to that, he jokingly called them his harpies, but that name was also quickly thrown out and so was muses oddly enough. Eventually though they came up with the 'proper' name

Something I want to happen in the DCEU

Arkham Asylum’s infamous hallway of Batman rouges from Batman TAS.

There’s a crawl shot of the hallway and several different camera angles have you get to see who’s in the cells without actually telling you but you’re supposed know by several hints.

The bars or the wall of glass has several things in that hint who occupys each cell.

-A silloute of a coin flipping in the air along with the sound of it landing and slight growling.

-Several green question marks written on the walls and several riddles followed by incoherent mumbling.

-A potted plant, looking Alive and healthy on a small shelf near a bed.

-A top of someone’s hair, which is brown obscured by the cell’s bars or the camera not panning down(for those who prefer the wall of glass) followed by the sound of a page turning in a book.

-A shot of a padded cell with someone in a straight jacket, rocking back and forth. The person’s feet has tally marks on it.

-A glass cell door that lacks airholes. Loud slurping and gurgling noises come from it. The camera isn’t panning down so all you hear is the liquid noises and a shout of “I gotta prepare for my next role.”

-A cell that has sticky notes of the days of the year all over the walls.

-A top hat with a ribbon around it, with a playing card tucked in the ribbon resting on the bed. Followed by mumblings of a white rabbit and finding someone named Alice.

-A cell that’s relatively normal. But there’s a scalpel covered in blood on the bed’s pillow.

-A cell that’s different from the rest in color. The cell is blue, cold blue with several tubes flowing air into it.

-A cell that's​ completely empty. But it has several words written in some sort of purple crayon that say “HAHA” on the walls.

Late night

Ficlet of Jervis and Madeline

The rain made everything seem so loud. Every step, every panting breath, and every police siren echoed so much louder. A part of her wished all of the noise would just stop, stop and let her think. Instead, she kept running forward. Madeline could feel rather than see Tetch stumbling behind her, all she could do was grip his hand tighter and hope the next turn would give them a place to hide. 

Finally several abandoned buildings came into sight and Madeline forced her exhausted legs to push faster.

"Tetch, come on! Just a few more steps! Then the police won't get us. I promise, we'll be safe soon!"

Madeline turned her head only for a moment to see Jervis's panting exhausted face. If she was in a better scenario, she'd try to carry him, but that was impossible now. 

Finally buildings stood in front of them. Without thought Madeline grabbed her remaining Kama and broke the glass to the dingy window. She quickly grabbed Tetch and thrust him through before hopping in herself. The moment her body dropped inside she felt shards of glass entering her torn boot. 

For a few tense seconds, they both remained on the floor, panting. Mercifully, the sirens disappeared, leaving only the sound of rain. Still exhausted, Madeline pushed herself up and looked at her companion. He remained on the floor, trying to curl up and block out the world. 

"Alright, alright, Tetch, the cops are gone, we just need to lay -"

"March, why did- did she do that? Why did she scream for the Red Queen?"

Madeline's face softened as she realized that Tetch was once again lost in his own fantasy. Slowly, Madeline crept closer to her companion, ignoring the glass that penetrated part of her broken boot. Madeline half jumped towards Tetch, before tilting her chin up and wiggling her nose.

"Now now Mister Hatta' we know that wasn't the real Alice. Why that young girl just wanted - wanted to play a game with us. No need to sulk!"

As casually as she could, so as to not spook him, she pushed Tetch into her lap, dusting off the broken glass that stuck to him.

"Ah, but March! I don't care for croquet, you know! And I'm tired of all these silly games!" 

Tetch pouted, throwing his arms in the air, ignoring the bleeding wound on his arm.

"Alice, oh Alice, where is she? Can't she see how much I want to bring her a party?"

Madeline sighed, looking around the old building. She would need to find something to distract him from his pity party. 

"Well, sometimes girls just want to -"

Suddenly, Madeline had a marvelous idea. Moving her hand to grip his shoulder, she forced him up to see a pile of decrepit boxes.

"Ah, look Hatta', a tea party! Already set up! How wondrous, how stupendous! Perhaps this was all a game to get us here!"

Madeline glanced down at Tetch, hoping that he would see the table and cups, and not some other wicked thing. She could never fully predict where his mind would take him. 

Just as she thought, he immediately jumped up and began eagerly walking towards the pile.

"Well, Callooh Callay to you, March! For a hare your eyes are sharp, why I bet they could cut a rath in half!"

Without another word, he sat himself on one box lower than the rest, and began to mime pouring tea.

"Hurry, Hare! Before it gets too cold!"

Smiling, Madeline stood up, already feeling the soreness in her body. It was only a temporary distraction until Tetch got his bearings. 

'Why, see this! Our day went from mimsy to frabjous in an instant! Why it's like a -'

"Not the same thing a bit!’ said the Hatter. `You might just as well say that 'I see what I eat' is the same thing as 'I eat what I see'!"

"You might just as well say,’ added the March Hare, `that 'I like what I get' is the same thing as 'I get what I like'!"

The words tumbled out of Madeline’s mouth with ease. Madeline slowly sat down next to her friend and pretended to eat a crumpet. She knew they'd have to leave and find a better hide out. For now, playing pretend with her friend was all she wanted to do.

https://www.instagram.com/p/B8bQbtABihV/

“Thank you and come again!” Madeline was ecstatic, it had been quite a while since she had attended a party. Although she couldn’t help, but wonder if she should have asked for directions and time. Thinking about running to try to check him she then spotted an envelope on the counter. Snatching it up, she immediately opened it. ~ You Are Cordially Invited to the Mad Tea party ~ Located: Guildford Main Street, 1589 At: 6:00 p.m.

The invitation was short and to the point so she didn’t think much of it. Looking at the clock she eagerly awaited to get off work so she could go home and get ready. Time skip 5:03 p.m. Slipping on a pair of black flats, Madeline looked herself over in the mirror one last time to make sure everything matched (This was something she often struggled with). Luckily, the simple orange skirt and green shirt worked well together. Finally, she grabbed the invitation and began walking towards Guildford Main. Finally at 6:08 she arrived, smiling she nocked on the door.

Party Pastries

𝓣𝓱𝒆 𝓗𝓪𝓽𝓽𝒆𝓻 ʜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴ 𝓪𝓬𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓻𝒆𝓭 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓽. ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴏɴ ʙᴇʜᴀʟғ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀʀ 𝓻𝓪𝓫𝓫𝓲𝓽, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀs sᴜᴄʜ ʜᴇ 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭𝓷'𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓭 ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ 𝓛𝓐𝓣𝓔  ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴋ-ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ. 𝓔𝓢𝓟𝓔𝓒𝓘𝓐𝓛𝓛𝓨 𝔀𝓱𝒆𝓷 ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓽𝓻𝒆𝓪𝓽𝓼 ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ - ғᴏʀ ʜɪs ᴛᴇᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝒆𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓭𝓪𝔂, ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢs!

ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ 𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓱𝒆𝓻 𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓰𝒆 ᴠᴀʀɪᴇᴛʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʜᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇᴅ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇ ʜɪs 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓬𝒆 ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ-ᴛᴇsᴛ ʜᴇʀsᴇʟғ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ 𝓗𝓐𝓟𝓟𝓨 ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀsɴ'ᴛ 𝓱𝒆𝓻 ғᴀᴜʟᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴋᴇ 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓬𝒆𝓼 ʟɪᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓫𝓪𝓰𝓼. sᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴀʀ 𝓻𝒆𝓼𝒆𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓬𝒆, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ 𝓗𝓐𝓡𝓓𝓛𝓨 ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ.

ᴛʜᴇ ғᴀᴋᴇ 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓬𝒆𝓼 ʜᴇ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇs ᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓜𝓐𝓢𝓚𝓔𝓓 𝓡𝓐𝓑𝓑𝓘𝓣𝓢 ʜᴇ ‘ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ’ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɴ ᴇʀʀᴀɴᴅs ᴀɴᴅ sᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓬𝒆, ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʜᴀɴᴅʟɪɴɢ 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓲𝒆𝓼 ᴡᴀs ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏғ ᴊᴏʙ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɪɴ ᴍɪɴᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ɪʀʀɪᴛᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ 𝓖𝓤𝓔𝓢𝓣𝓢 ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴏ sᴜᴄʜ sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ғᴀᴠᴏʀs ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ 𝓗𝓞𝓢𝓣. ᴀɴᴅ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴏ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴀs ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜɪs 𝓦𝓸𝓷𝓭𝒆𝓻𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓭, ᴛᴏᴏ!

ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ʜɪs 𝒇𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝒆 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓹𝒆, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓢𝓐𝓜𝓔 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 ʀᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ɢʀᴏᴡɴ sᴏ ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʜɪs 𝓹𝓻𝒆𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 ᴠɪsɪᴛs! ᴏʜ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ sᴏ 𝓚𝓘𝓝𝓓 ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ, ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ sʜᴇ 𝓻𝒆𝓪𝓵𝓲𝔃𝒆𝓭 ɪᴛ ᴏʀ 𝓝𝓞𝓣. ʜɪs ᴘᴀsᴛʀɪᴇs ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡᴇʀᴇ 𝓢𝓣𝓘𝓛𝓛 sɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴏxᴇs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 ᴅᴇsᴘɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓣𝓘𝓜𝓔 ɪᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! sᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ sᴜᴄʜ 𝓖𝓔𝓢𝓣𝓤𝓡𝓔𝓢, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂 ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ 𝓘𝓝𝓥𝓘𝓣𝓐𝓣𝓘𝓞𝓝 ᴛᴏ ʜɪs ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ?

ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓶 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓵𝒆, ʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀ - ɴᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʜɪs 𝓹𝓪𝔂𝓶𝒆𝓷𝓽 ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴛɪᴘ 𝓗𝓔𝓐𝓥𝓘𝓔𝓡 ᴛʜᴀɴ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴɪᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀɴ 𝒆𝓷𝓿𝒆𝓵𝓸𝓹𝒆.

❝   W𝘩𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑟, I 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝘩𝑜𝑤 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑦 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛! M𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑦, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑎 𝑠𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙. I 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝘩𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒 I 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠. I𝑡'𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝘩𝑜𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡, 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡, 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠..?  ❞

@themarchinghare

@maestroofvillainy

SALTY ALMOND SYMPHONY CHOCOLATES

The Election of Owls and demons. Or history of Gotham gargoyles. Gargoyles and Gotham go almost as far back as the 1700 hundreds (almost as old as Gotham itself!) Back then people were more… superstitious. You see around that time an election was happening between Robert​ L. Chartine and George P. Questpit, but this election was strange. Buildings belonging to the gentleman would collapse or blood would be found inside. Friends and supporters of the two men would just randomly stop supporting or be found dead. It was surreal and got even more frightening when bloody owls with there wings removed would be found and demon masks broken covered in blood, would also appear. Unsurprisingly, both men pulled out, leaving only one. William B. Yorkster. If you’re wondering why I never mentioned him it was because no one thought he stood a chance, and none of the incidents mentioned ever happened to him. Most of Gotham today would think that it was he was causing it, but back then he had something the other two didn’t, Gargoyles. Gargoyles on his house, buildings, and some of his friends would have gargoyles. After that gargoyles became a symbol of safety and protection, and almost every building began to have them. There popularity only grew in the 1800 hundreds. Sadly, this popularity began to dwindle during the great depression leaving only a few buildings with the statues intact, but this was not the end, oh no. In 1969, something that would also become a famous symbol of Gotham began to use them, Arkham Asylum. That’s right our resident crazy building used to have scary grey gargoyles. You might be asking why. Well the past caretaker of Arkham believed gargoyles would “chase away the crazy”, so gargoyles had a new meaning in Gotham sanity. After that they became all the rage again. Almost every building began to have them if not for protection, or sanity than for style and to fit in. Long story short Gotham has gargoyles because they used to represent protection, safety, and sanity something most people would say Gotham is severely lacking. Maybe that’s why our favorite rodent favors them so much?

People from other cities always ask me why we have such gothic architechture around the place, and why there are so many gargoyles. The answer: honestly, I have no idea. This city is crazy, and the sooner you accept that the soon you’ll fit right in

Gotham Slang

Okay, so I’ve recently realized that us Gothamites have developed the world’s most bizarre vernacular and literally no one outside the city can understand half the stuff we say. As such, in an attempt to be helpful I’ve put together a few examples with translations and sometimes origins:

Riddle me this (do I need to explain this? when you want someone to explain something)

Flip a coin (not used the way other people use it - it serves as more of a abstract threat about getting mad eg. “Don’t make me flip a coin!”)

Pull a Harley (fall in love way too deeply way too quickly)

More [something] than scars (when there is a large amount of [something] - because have you ever looked at Zsasz?)

Like finding Alice (used when something’s hard to find - it’s the equivalent of the saying “Like finding a needle in a haystack”)

Get umbrella-ed (get murdered, usually specifically mob-related; named for that infamous incident when Penguin killed a dude with an umbrella)

Didn’t have the energy to come up with designs, so I just sketched these two. Jerv for some reason gives me dumbo octopus vibes and Ivy reminds me of a leafy sea dragon

A personal wonderland {Jervis Tetch}

Ungloved fingers twitched as they held a warm tea cup.  The skin on the small hands smooth and uncalloused, almost like a child’s. Though to presume such innocence would be a deadly mistake. The hands shaking from the opium in the owner’s system flushing out. Mindlessly bringing the cup to soft pink lips.  Drinking more out of a repeated habit than a actual need or want. Soft but sharp blue eyes wide and pin pricked.  Drugged and tiny pupils staring in a hazed madness. A soft catchy toon slipping from his throat…

The smell of tea filled the air, warmth thick like syrup.  Lace frills covered the table in a out of date elegance.  Decorative tea cups set ever so perfectly out along the table. Foot tapping music and hues of blue seemed to be a theme in this personal wonderland.  Tears stained the nicely folded napkins on the table below the man…

Ungloved fingers twitched as they held a cold tea cup.  The skin on  the small hands stained in blood, both his and others. Though to presume such morbid thoughts would be a ignorant mistake. The hands shaking from blood flushing out of the owners viens. Mindlessly smiling as he brought the tea to his painful grin, tea dribbling down his mouth.  Drinking it like a nervous tick of a cuckoo clock. Bloodshot blue eyes held in so much pain as tears poured out of the. The tiny pupils hiding the schizophrenics symptoms with the drug that laid inside him…

The smell of blood and desperation filled the air like deaths cloud.  Lace frills soaked in blood and tears. The table more of a scene of sadness then elegance. Smashed tea cups laid in every breath of the room.  The record skipped and was not fixed, being drowned out by this man’s personal wonderland…