Third Floor Common Room; Sunday Evening [ 03/27 ].

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

Alexander wasn't doing anything particularly interesting tonight; he had just decided that he should at least do nothing particularly interesting in the common room rather than his own room, in the hopes that, perhaps, it could become something interesting.

He considered the television, but, overall, just settled on the couch with a book instead. Far more engaging and, perhaps, when he was ready for a break, he might hit up the kitchette for a little bit of culinary action. For some strange reason, it was making him crave a fried sandwich to dip in some sort of fruit jam...

How strange.


[[ open common room is open! ]]

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[wwiii]

From across the room, there was a scratching sound. It was one of those high-pitched scrabbling noises that could only spell out certain doom unto those who heard it. For this was no normal scrabble.

No, no, this was the scrabble of He Who Would Rule All.

He Who Would Rule All was well-shielded, within his round plastic fortress. It was anyone's best guess how he had survived in there for so long. Anyone's but his own, of course. Mr. Winkles had survived on sheer tenacity. He had survived on plastic chewings and sunflower seeds that had been stored in his cheek pouches, and on sheer willpower!

And now? Now it was time for him to surface again! The world would know fear! The world would come to respect the proud name of Mr. Winkles!

... So, there was a grey gerbil in a battered hamster ball with his name scribbled on in Sharpie, rolling across the floor and bumping mercilessly against Alexander's foot.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

There was a rodent. In a plastic ball. With Mr. Winkles written on it. Ramming into his foot.

Alexander was going to lower his book and look down at the curious little fellow for a moment.

"Um..." he offered, intelligently.

[wwiii]

Mr. Winkles peered back up at Alexander with beady black eyes that were full of hate. Full of hate and loathing and his great and terrible plans for the future of humanity, and he chittered up at him.

He chittered for rodentkind! He chittered of terror beyond any human's wildest imaginings, of agony the likes of which no man has ever before known. Mr. Winkles chittered about power! About destiny! About the greatness that he would one day demonstrate to the world when he would rule with a tiny iron fist!

Mostly, he just chittered adorably.

Fear him, Alexander. Fear him well.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

Those black beady eyes, peering up through the plastic sphere with such intensity and hatred, boring straight through the soul of anyone who dared get in the way of that piercing, burning--

"D'awwwww!" said Alexander, smiling now with a faint chuckle as he set aside the book and shifted so that he could lean down and get a better look at the furry fellow. "Now, from whence did you come, little...what are you, anyway? A mouse of sorts?"

Apparently, there weren't gerbils in Daventry. Or none that Alexander had met yet.

[wwiii]

GERBIL, HUMAN SCUM!!!!!

Now Alexander had unleashed the wrath of the mighty Mr. Winkles! He would meet his maker! Observe his razor-sharp talons, in their fierce display of just what he would do to Alexander when rodents ruled!? The way they clawed viciously at the inside of the ball was demonstrative of the way that Mr. Winkles would merrily claw out your eyes! Know this gesture well and tremble! Let it haunt your nightmares!

Oh... hey... the ball was rolling about a bit.

It was with great dignity that Mr. Winkles stopped scrabbling, sitting down while the hamster ball wobbled back and forth for a moment before settling.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"Mr. Winkles," Alexander read from the ball as he tilted his head thoughtfully at the ball. "I suppose that hopefully settles the question as to whether or not you are one of my fellow students having met a terrible temporary transformation, unless another fellow students thinks they're quite funny about stuff. Surely, you must belong to someone, though. Are you lost?"

[wwiii]

Fie, human! Mr. Winkles is never lost! Mr. Winkles is always exactly where he needs to be! And right now, he needs to be right here! Right here, making you quiver in fear!

And also, begging you for any crumbs you might have, as his sunflower seed collection has run empty.

He was looking up at Alexander with eyes that would make young children cry for their mothers. Eyes that might compel any puny mortal to do his bidding. And his bidding was...

Food.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"Or hungry, perhaps?"

One did not need to have an active spell to speak with woodland creatures to discern that hunger could be a possibility for a small animal trapped in a plastic bubble. Being a slave probably did help with this intuition, however, and so he carefully got up from the couch.

"We share that in common, Mr. Winkles! Let us venture toward the cupboards and see if there is something good awaiting us."

[wwiii]

Mr. Winkles followed along behind the human. But, it should be noted, that he was not following the human because he had been told to do so. That would be lowly, lacking in self-respect and dignity. Gerbils did not do as they were told. Dogs did. And Mr. Winkles was not a dog. Mr. Winkles was evil incarnate.

There was a very definite difference.

No, no, Mr. Winkles was following this human because HE was the one in charge. He had demanded food, and now his bipedal servant was powerless to resist his commands! And that was why he was following behind, to make certain that the way to the food was cleared by his new pawn, so that there would be no mistake that this sad, pathetic creature was under his command!

And also because the food was that way, and he had much smaller legs.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"I think I know just the thing for you," Alexander noted, going to the fringe and procuring from within it a large wedge of yellow cheese with holes in it.

Because, in his world, large wedges of yellow cheese with holes in it is simply what you gave rodents. Granted, the rodents tended to be much bigger in Daventry, so he nicked off a littler piece for Mr. Winkles.

"Now, to see how to actually get this thing open so I can give this to you," he mused, now reaching to pick up the ball.

[wwiii]

Aha! Exactly according to plan! The pink meaty flesh-peon would open his plastic fortress, and would unleash him upon the world at large, to wreak havoc upon all who did not bow to his whims!

And also, there would be cheese!

He would stand on his tiny hindfeet now, to display how large and imposing he was! And all would cower in terror!

He was taller now that the ball had been picked up! See? Already, terrifying!

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"Ah! There's the latch!" Alexander noted, clearly reluctant to open the ball not because he was having trouble with the mechanism, but because anyone would be reluctant to expose themselves to such danger as making an offering to the beast within.

"There you are, Mr. Winkles," he said, lowering the piece of cheese down for the gerbil. "I hope you enjoy cheddar."

[wwiii]

It would be an adequate offering. The beast would be appeased, this day.

Mr. Winkles settled down, picking up the piece of cheese in his wee-vicious-forepaws and nibbling at it intently.

Yes. He would allow Alexander to live today. But next time, human... Oh, next time...

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"There isn't that much room in that little plastic ball," Alexander noted as he looked in on the creature nibbling on the cheese with a thoughtful frown. "I'll bet you feel trapped. I know what it's like to be trapped..."

[wwiii]

Trapped? Trapped, as this human was now, confined by the whims of Mr. Winkles, doomed to forever dance if he commanded it be so?

Mr. Winkles gave a small, disdainful twitch of his whiskers while he ate what portions of the cheese he could stomach, and crammed the rest into his cheeks for safekeeping.

And then he stood up again, sniffing at the doorway of his plastic fortress. If this was a trick, some sort of attempt to lure Mr. Winkles to a state of vulnerability, he would know. He would know, and all would pay.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

Unaware of the certain doom and destruction he would potentially unleash on the world by his actions, Alexander gave a smile to the gerbil, feeling a sort of kindred spirit in captivity, and bent down to carefully set the ball back on the floor. He tilted it, just a little, so that the opening was close to the floor.

"I would be no better than the evil that confined me to slavery if I were to keep you inside your strange plastic prison, my friend," Alexander said. "Go, and be free to roam as you will!"

[wwiii]

Well, now you've done it, Alexander. The world was going to pay and pay dearly for all of those dried veggie pellets and cedar woodchips and that ridiculous, ridiculous name of his.

Mr. Winkles sniffed about the exit to his ball for a moment more, temporarily thrown by the prospect of leaving his containment-protection-device, and then, demonstrating just how bold he truly was, he slipped outside of it, his teeny paws touching actual floor for the first time in ages.

FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOM!!!!!

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"Atta boy, Mr. Winkles!" Alexander said with an encouraging chuckle. "Come on out! All paws on the floor and there will be even more cheese in it for you! We'll call that the sweet taste of liberty!"

[wwiii]

Liberty tasted of yellow cheese with holes in it! Mr. Winkles was a sudden firm believer in liberty!

Liberty of all gerbils, everywhere! Humanity could have a new function in his great world order, as cheese-fetchers. It was a step up from doormats and shaving-fresheners, at least.

Mr. Winkles was hereby bestowing a new title upon Alexander: The Fetcher of Cheese. He trusted that the pink-meat-creature would wear it well. And if he didn't...

Alexander would not like the consequences, if he didn't.

All four paws tested out this strange 'floor' substance, with no small amount of caution. And then, again, up on his kind legs, the proud conqueror of the Third Floor Common Room! All hail the Winkles!

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"Well done, Mr. Winkles!" Alexander hailed the gerbil happily, breaking off a piece of cheese and holding it out for the critter to enjoy. "The air surely must smell better out here than in that tiny little sphere."

[wwiii]

Well, actually, the air in the plastic fortress smelled of gerbil pee and megalomania. It was a pungent scent that had rather grown on him over the past few weeks.

Still and all, if the air out here came with cheddar, then he supposed that he was ready to step into the world outside of his protective dome. But was the world ready for him?

As he nibbled on this next piece of cheese, it was possibly very clear that this fresh air came with fresh ideas for world domination. Without the confines of the ball, he was free to scurry into places where no other gerbil dared to trod! He would conquer the mice of the island, and the rats! He would travel unhindered through the gremlin holes! He would be as a shadow, unheard, unseen, until somebody dared look down!

Excellent. Yes, excellent indeed.

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

Elphaba came into the common room, book in hand.

Yes, she was reading The Wizard of Oz. And was honestly quite confused. She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen area, and looked up from her book to see her friend.

"Oh, I hope I didn't disturb you," she said, realizing that if she hadn't, she probably was doing so right then.

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

"Shall we feed you anything else while we are out and about?" asked Alexander to the gerbil. "I believe I spotted some very tasty looking carrots in the refrigerator."

[daventryprince.livejournal.com]

Alexander couldn't help grinning a little at Elphaba's comment, considering he had been keeping quiet mostly to just see how long it took for her to notice him there.

"Not at all, Elphaba," he assured her. "I would not be in the common room if I wanted to avoid being disturbed. Would I be disturbing you at all if I were to ask after how you've been?"

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

"Yes. I'd be frightfully disturbed," Elphaba said, a smirk playing across her face. "But I'll still answer. I've been... well, I'm not entirely certain how to describe it. But I've been well, that is certain."