Guy In A Top Hat Novels & Stories

"Then why make that 'judging' face? You made me worry for a second! I thought you're going to flip out again." 'Yes. I know. I can't help it.' Jana shrugged and eyed the few students who also wanted to enjoy the cold. "Oh, Austin!" A guy on a green beret hat waved at their direction. He was in a fashionable jacket and tight pants. "Man, are you a superhero or something? You're practically bare against this chill." Austin grinned. The guy jogged and greeted Austin with a fist bump. "You're the superhero. Are you out for a date?"

All these mens were wearing hats, made me remember Viktor and his love for hats. "A beautiful lady, what are your doing here princess?" This man has his bears so long that I could even make long locks out of it, his voice was soft and gentle. "I'm lost and I can't find my way" I divulged as the the third man, wearing a black hat retorted, I couldn't see his face because he had a scarf wrapped around his face. "How do you mean? You seem to have place in mind that you're going to, we've been watching you, since you climbed our tree and took away the apples meant for our children" he stutters wearing a smile on my face.

Amberleigh had always imagined The Mad Hatter was an older man with crazy hair, crazy suits, a Joker smile, and a top hat. Well, she only had two of those features right about the man sitting in the plush chair grinning at her in an unsettling manner. He was wearing a purple velvet suit and looked like one crazy mother fucker for sure.

I stated. Just then there was a knock on the door. I walked up to the door before opening it. Two gentlemen neatly dressed. One looked familiar though. His hair was in a ponytail, he was wearing a white short sleeved shirt buttoned halfway, his chest slightly exposed, black jeans and black boots and wearing dark glasses. "Can I help you?" I asked. He took off his glasses and asked as he looked up at me, "What do you say we kill George Diable?"

I was in the arms of my lover as he swayed me across the dance floor. “You look pretty tonight.” He's been wowed by my outfit today but why would he while he looked like a snack himself? The men were wearing black pants with red ties and white cropped shirts that made Bangizwe complain along with some suspenders to hold up the pants. “You look like a snack.” He does. I feel like devouring him. Did I mention the black vintage hats they were wearing? Hats looks good on his head.

Don’t cry, okay. Me: LOL. Never! Ella: You're a much bigger person than she is. Take care. Bye. “Mind if I join you, young lady? The rest of the house seems rather crowded today.” I look up, pulling myself out of my thoughts. An older gentleman is standing by the edge of my booth. He’s wearing a face cap but his silver hair is hard to miss. His peach colored sweater suits his pale complexion perfectly. And he has a genuine, warm smile that instantly puts me at ease. Even though he’s wearing dark sunglasses that hide his eyes, I can feel the warmth of his gaze.

“Welcome to the South Windlet Post Office. How may I help you?” The man had a hat on and he was wearing black clothes and dark boots. There were daggers on his hips, and some pouches, and bandages on his hands. From his appearance, Gilbert assumed this guy is a hunter or a mercenary. There’s some kind of dark aura shrouding this guy, and it made him suspicious. ‘But a criminal wouldn’t use our service, out in the day like this. And not via the official route. Didn’t they hear about Arata-san?’

"Anyone?" Hugo, a man with a tophat and a grey mustache that makes him look like the monopoly man, steps forward. He smiles at me and then presents Felicia with a chair. His gloved hands are resting on the backrest, and Felicia seems to gulp before stepping forward. "Don't be afraid; this won't hurt," Hugo says with glimmering eyes that speak of his mischief. He loves to watch people suffer. "But it will be one hell of an experience,"

When we pull away, he tips his--my hat and I burst into laughter, letting thoughts of my betrayal to my best friend take a backseat. "Hey yourself," I mutter, my eyes scan his outfit. With the hat and skinny jeans paired with a denim jacket, he can pass off as a modern-day cowboy. "It's good to see you." Josh flips his short, brown hair, I chuckle and show him how it's done by flipping the ends of my cornrows which swipe across his cheeks. He scoffs, I roll my eyes and snatch my hat to place on the table. His tattooed knuckles come into view as his fingers circle the hat, I squint at the Roman numerals written in black ink decorating his hand.

"Lothar, would you can it?! You almost scared my people into doing something rash." The mist vanished and standing in the middle of the table was a slightly pudgy young man, no more than twenty-four, wearing purple robes with an assortment of gold moons and stars and random symbols decorating it. He also wore a large, conical hat with similar decorations and a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses. "How did you know it was me?" came the now slightly-nasal and much-less-booming voice.