It was dull, as far as dreams went. A mirror, or rather a window, to some forest. He felt himself slipping in, though not by choice, as if he was being pulled in by some force he could not otherwise sense or recognise. Just as the last of him fell through the mirror's frame, he experienced a sensation of intense vertigo and all was engulfed by darkness.
To him, no time had passed at all as he felt his consciousness returning just as he was being hoisted up by his limbs. Blinking and groaning softly at the stiffness of his muscles, his eyes gained focus and he found himself staring at a young adult. Male, Asian ethnicity, probably between 17 and 21 years age, ask for a license., his mind catalogued. Then came the confusion. This felt too real to be a dream of any sort. He could feel the crisp morning air, autumn morning, far too vividly. The smell of grass and rain. The light shining through the treetops was too bri- Holy shit, those trees were tall. Even the smallest far outsized the Shard, for God's sake! Confusion was quickly replaced by the feeling of panic, not even the slightest bit enjoyable wonder and the smallest inkling of dread. Jerking his limbs, he fell down from the two youngsters' grip onto the, thankfully soft, grass. It was then he first got a good look at the other person holding him off the ground.
Young girl, brunette, 15 to 18 years of age. He stared up at her for a while, eyes a little wide behind his tinted sunglasses. Wait. Sunglasses? He had not worn those when he went to bed. In fact, what was he wearing then? Glancing down, a small spike of irritation went through his brain. His work outfit. Great. The irritation was quickly overcome by confusion once more. Why was he in these clothes at all? It would make sense, in a dream. But no, this was not a dream. Couldn't be.
Shaking his head, he stood up and dusted off his trousers. That's a lot of people... and a rabbit? A white rabbit in early autumn?" He thought as he mentally counted heads. A colourful cast, at the very least. And young. The youngest seemed not older tham 12 or 13. And only one or two older than himself. Was that a police officer? Feeling up the breast pocket of his vest mid-thought, he was delightfully surprised for the first time since the short time he woke up. His fags and lighter were in their usual place, too. Taking out a cigarette and his lighter, he casually lit it and took a long drag as he pocketed his lighter. The nicotine took damn near instaneous effect as he felt his nerves settle a little. Turning to the young brunette and the Asian who had picked him up, he felt a little awkward at speaking at all, but decided to voice his thoughts anyway. And introduce himself, didn't want to appear rude.
"Chase River, pleased to meet you two. I'm guessing I'm not dreaming?" God, those words sounded forced. He grimaced inwardly. Smiling would likely make it even worse. He was about to continue until he heard a voice. Like someone speaking through a loudspeaker. And the voice came from everywhere at once, as if it were disembodied.
"Naughty, naughty, little rabbit. Not even a decade as a fugitive and already trying your hardest to get to the top of Her Majesty's long-list of decapitees?"
The voice didn't stay disembodied for long. In hindsight, Chase wished it had. The air fifteen feet or so above the white rabbit rippled and out of the ripple emerged a person. A strong scent of orchids assaulted his nose. It wasn't unpleasant, but the person accompanying it was. Or it appeared to be a person until one dared take a closer glance at it. It was more a skeleton than a person, its skin a shade of grey that was tightly draped over its ribcage, arms thin like twigs each ending up to a quintet of five, dangerously sharp-looking claws. Stitches and long scars ran across its entire body like brushstrokes on a canvas. Odd, purple tattoos ran down the length of its thin arms, almost more like birthmarks than actual ink. Its choice in attire was rather bizarre, a royal purple, sleeveless straitjacket fashioned out of leather that left the thing's midriff bare. Skintight charcoal grey trousers, badly torn and worn. Behind it swayed a bony tail, bony ridges poking out of the flesh along its length.
Worst of all was its face. It wasn't the eerie amber eyes, pupils slit like a cat's, or the manic gleam in them, though they alone would have been bad. It was the mouth. The thing's cheeks had been split up into a full-blown Glasgow smile, the cuts damn near reaching its long, long ears. And what a Glasgow smile it was, a grin full of yellowed, sharp fangs each as prickly and sharp as needles.
It hung off the air for a while, bare feet swinging back-and-fro like a demented image of a child at a swing. It then dropped down next to the rabbit with grace that seemed unreal and it crouched down next to the small animal.
"But I guess these must be the humans with the... Potential? Oh my, what a game-changer you've brought in, Peter. You've sparked a fire, Rain, wonder how close you can stand to the flame 'till you burn?
Potential? What was that? Peter? Rain? Was that the rabbit's name? Wait, was that rabbit not just a normal rab- No, of course it wasn't. And who was this Her Majesty the thing spoke mentioned. Sounded like something straight out of a Lewis Carrol tale.
His cig damn near fell out of his mouth as his mind connected the dots. Her Majesty, a white rabbit, and while this creature really stretched the definition, a mangy cat.
"Oh, balls."
