#ch: alice liddell

[godscobhhq]

Alice from Alice in Wonderland

TW DRUG, DEATH MENTION

Name: Alice Liddel Age: 27 Profession: Employee at Wonderland Crazy Golf & Indoor Maze Pronouns: She/Her Face Claim: Antonia Gentry Availability: Taken

Born into a relatively wealthy family, Alice was far from the prim and proper young lady her mother expected her to be. No she was the girl who ran amok, scraped knees and mud lacing her dress, much to the disapproval of her mother and older sister. The young girl was imaginative and came up with the wildest stories. Her father was always the one to encourage her, believing it to be her greatest strength. Alice had a penchant for art, he was the one to help cultivate that talent. So she created worlds of her own in her head, dragged anyone she could into for just a moment.

Everything was simply wonderful, until her father passed. So sudden that it rocked the entire Liddell family to its core. Suddenly one of the only people who truly understood Alice was gone, she was beside herself. To say she went off the deep end was an understatement. Nothing seemed to alleviate the grief. Eventually her mother started doubling down on her efforts to turn Alice into a proper young lady. That was the last thing Alice wanted, her sister was proper enough for the both of them. It was soon after this that she found pixie dust, it could change her life she was told. That was exactly what she needed.

Once she got a taste there was no going back. The places it takes hers, the things she sees. A veritable wonderland is what it is. She hid it well enough from her family at first. However she couldn't deny when her sister found her half strung out, talking to herself and trying to climb onto the roof. Her mother was furious. Imagine the scandal, she said. What would father think, she said. Alice doesn't remember what was said after that, just a lot of yelling that resulted in her no longer living with them. So she was on her own now. It was a mad dash to find a job and less than desirable apartment, but it beats being on the streets. She uses pixie dust more than ever at this point it doesn’t seem like she’ll ever stop.

Notable character information: Alice is suffering with an addiction to Pixie Dust and having hallucinations.

[davidhatter]

No Time To Say 'Hello!' Goodbye || Alter

@go-askalice

With summer came the longer hours of daylight where closing was now done by the light of the setting sun, instead of just the lights inside the shoppe and the dim street lamps. Shadows stretched long and languid across the floor and walls, the mismatch of them fitting right in with the rest of the shoppe.

Hatter had nearly finished sweeping when he noticed a rogue mug sitting on one of the benches, tucked into the corner. He frowned at it, though the expression was meant for whoever had left it behind like that. Thankfully it was empty, only the tacky remnance of what he presumed to be coffee left a ring around the bottom.

Setting the broom up against one of the chairs to lean on he reached over, bracing a hand on the table, to grab the mug by its handle. Hatter crossed the shoppe floor to set it on the counter, scooting it closer to the edge.

"Sorry, I forgot one," he told Alice. Then he paused, feeling the need to say again, "You know, I can do this myself. There must be...other things you'd rather be doing. It is summer, after all."

[davidhatter]

@go-askalice

That's all, she said, as if she hadn't just told him a very big, life altering thing that she was going to carry around with her for the rest of her life now in the form of memories and emotions and relationships anew.

He twitched at hearing Thistle's name come out of her mouth. Along with calling him anyone's friend. It was hard to believe anyone could consider that fae a friend. But, as much as it deeply, deeply, deeply, pained him to admit, even just to himself, it was good to know that they had been there to see her through it all.

As much of a pain in the ass they had been for him and annoying to talk to, they cared about Alice and Hatter knew they would do their weird fae shit to get her out of anything that put her in harms way. Even their own kind, because she was more their kind than any. So, it figured that they had been the one to help her. Though the other party of people remained a mystery, this Michael, Wendy, and other boy and girl they were friends with that had fought to win but lost all the same.

And married. Alice was married. He didn't know what to think of that but only because he didn't know how she felt over it. Probably not the best since she had the Madrigal girl he'd seen her at the shoppe with but since it had saved them, probably not the worst either.

When it seemed like there was nothing else to come he narrowed his eyes a little at her, brows creased. After a moment he asked, "And how are you? With all of...that."

The Mirror of a Bad Dream || Alter

[turnupswritessometimes]

Butterflies - Ch 8 (Finale) - Lies of P/Alice Madness

Relationship: P/Alice Liddell

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53898544/chapters/137944243

Previous | First

Summary: “But why go looking for other realities, when there’s no guarantee you’ll pass through to them?” “Because it’s an experiment, and I jolly well won’t learn anything more about all this unless I try,” Alice replied.

Having figured out how to slip in and out of Wonderland entirely, Alice Liddell sets off on a journey to find more realities around her own. When she follows a blue butterfly to Hotel Krat, she meets P. The more time they spend together, the more they feel as though there’s someone else out there, just like them.

Chapter Eight: In Which Alice Returns to Krat Once More

Alice was alone.

Once more, she stood on an unfamiliar beach; it really was becoming a habit. Only this time, she was returning to the real world. Reality. It was brighter than Krat had been. The sky was a deep blue, and a soft afternoon sun shone down, warming her back.

There were buildings on this island. The island on this side of reality was built into a village, with a great bridge linking it to the mainland. The border between Italy and France, Alice assumed.

The bridge would certainly easier than coming by submarine, a dim part of Alice thought.

Then the truth of the situation hit her, as thoroughly as a thump in the chest. She was no longer in Krat. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to get back to Krat. Back to P.

P was gone. He was a whole world away. She could still feel the press of his hands on her own; the cold metal of his legion hand. Her heart still raced. Still pounded. As she’d felt herself begin to slip away, she had realised it; she wanted to kiss him. Even if it was just the once, before she slipped away.

But they hadn't managed it. She hadn't kissed P, in the end.

Would she ever see him again?

Yes, she thought, balling her hands into fists. Yes, she would. She would find a way back to Krat. They would meet again. Alice would make sure of it. Still, she did not have an immediate plan. She was in a strange place, and the couple who passed her spoke in Italian. Everyone was speaking Italian, she realised. The only Italian she knew was from the opera, and even then, she didn't know what it meant. It would be no help, here.

They were noticing her. Noticing the strange girl, stood alone, who was nearly crying. Alice took a breath, and brushed the hair from her face. There was nothing for it. She started to head back across the bridge, to the mainland. She needed a plan. Getting to the docks was as good as any. Hopefully Captain Nemo's ship would be there.

It was always strange, to go back to reality. There were no puppets. No monsters. No blue butterflies. Alice felt more alone than ever.

She drifted, and worried about P. He had lost his father, now he had lost her. He was facing the head of the alchemists, alone, and who knew what else. He would be searching for Sophia.

Alice couldn't find Sophia here, and she also couldn't get back without her.

She wandered through unfamiliar streets. The shops were beautiful. They stocked an array of bizarre and beautiful items, and the food from the restaurants smelt wonderful. Her stomach growled. But she didn't have any money. A few pennies in her apron pocket, but those were English pennies; no good here.

She attracted stares. She kept her head down, and kept walking. But by the time she reached the docks, in the late afternoon, she had to stop. She was exhausted, hungry and tired. Worst of all, her chest still hurt from being separated from Krat. Not just P, but all of the inhabitants of the hotel.

Alice sat on a crate, and buried her face in her palms. She didn’t even know how she was going to get back to London.

"Alice!"

She looked up so suddenly her neck cricked. And then stared. Pushing his way through the crowd toward her was a familiar face. She knew that curly hair and those bright eyes.

Peter.

Alice blinked.

Peter ran forward, grinning. "Gee, am I glad to see you!"

Alice tried to smile, but it didn't quite work. She stayed sat, as Peter came to a stop just before her.

"The Captain was sure you were dead, but I knew you weren't! I knew you'd slipped off somewhere to have an adventure! And you did, didn't you?" Peter paused. He peered at her, closely. "Alice?"

"I did slip away," Alice said. It hurt to speak. "I went...somewhere else."

"What's wrong?" Peter knelt down, so she had to meet his eyes. The sun caught the freckles across his nose. "Was it awful?"

Alice shook her head. Then she stopped, and shrugged.

"I suppose most people would think it awful," she said. "It was. But it was beautiful too."

"Sounds like your Wonderland."

Alice raised her eyebrow. "And like your Neverland?"

Peter nodded. For a moment, he looked different; wild. He said there were wild beasts in Neverland, that fairies were not all as good as the stories, and that pirates were not to be trifled with.

"Sure." Peter stood and held out a hand to Alice. "Come on. Tell me all about it back on the ship."

"You're not setting sail again, are you?"

"Not for another week, no."

So she took Peter's hand, and let herself be led back to the ship. What else could she do?

*

Alice ate a hot meal, at least; a stew aboard the ship. She missed her room at hotel Krat. Missed the warm bath and the big bed and thought it was strange she'd gotten used to it all so quickly.

Strange, perhaps, that she was so attached to P, after only knowing him a couple of days. It felt like much longer.

She told Peter about Krat. He was immensely interested about the puppets. Already, it seemed just as distant as Wonderland. He convinced her to sit on the deck with the crew that evening, and she did. They all thought her a miracle – thought she'd died. But she stayed on the edge of things, and looked over the harbour. There were lights on, in the town. The town full of people. So different from Krat.

P would love this. Would love to see all this life.

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

And she couldn’t stop searching for a blue butterfly in the darkness.

The night passed. So did the day. She didn't find her way back to Krat. Her skin itched with it. Her mind whirled with the effort of trying to slip realities. She only managed to make Wonderland overlap with the little Italian town. It had become full of marble statues and wolf-like creatures. Wonderful.

But not Krat.

She stayed, a while, before falling back into reality.

And then it happened. Alice woke in the middle of the night, and felt a pull, in her stomach, like an anchor being pulled in. She slipped out of her bed, and padded through the ship. It was a familiar pull. The wood felt like it was far away.

Alice reached the deck. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the pull of her anchor. It was easier, in the night. Everything felt more surreal; magical.

Then she opened her eyes. And saw a trail of blue dust, in the air. She stepped forward. Then it appeared, all at once.

A blue butterfly.

Alice rushed forward. She didn't care she was only in her nightgown, or barefoot, she was going to follow that butterfly.

It went down the plank of the ship, down to the cobblestone street.

Alice followed.

The butterfly hovered.

And Alice reached forward to touch it.

In the next instant, she was somewhere else. Somewhere she knew. This was the streets of Krat. Dawn was just starting to break on the horizon. She stood at the docks, staring at the now familiar, empty houses. Puppet parts still littered the streets.

She was back. And the butterfly meant Sophia must be safe.

Alice was more sensible than to start shouting out. That would attract attention, and attention was dangerous.

Especially because she could hear footsteps. Distant footsteps, but footsteps all the same. It could be a puppet, or a monster, or something else entirely. She pressed herself against the closest building, taking a breath. The footsteps came closer. Towards her.

She slipped her vorpal blade from her waistband; it had appeared with her, and gripped it tightly.

"I don't know what you're expecting, pal." A voice came, from down the street. A familiar voice. "There's never any boats at the harbour."

There was a pause. More footsteps. Then, "You don’t know that. You can only remember as much as me."

She knew that voice too. Both of those voices. Alice's heart leapt into her throat. She almost dropped the knife. She fumbled to slide it back into place, as she stepped away from the wall, turning into the street.

There he was. Striding over the cobblestones. But when he took her in, he stopped.

Alice did too. It was P. She recognised his gait; his legion arm; his face, with its constellations of freckles and bright blue eyes. And yet, his hair was different. It shone like starlight – white, and flowing down to his shoulders. It caught in the light wind.

"P." Alice stayed still, for a moment longer, before she started forward. Her shoes slipped on the stones.

He didn't step towards her, but he did open his arms. Did smile that soft smile as she came forward.

She slammed into him, her arms looping around his neck. She held him tightly, and he held her back. His palms pressed into her back. One was very warm, the other cold.

"Alice," he murmured into her hair. He practically lifted her from her ground; she balanced on her tiptoes. "You're back."

"I promised." Her face was pressed against his greatcoat. He still smelt of oil, but mostly of the sea. They stayed close, for another long moment. Alice took a deep breath, and she felt P do the same. Her heart fluttered, like those blue butterflies.

Then she managed to pull away. Just a couple of inches, so she could see P's face, framed with silver hair. She brushed it back, behind his ear.

"What happened?"

P's eyes were soft. He closed his eyes, for a moment, his lashes twitching; they were still dark. "A lot."

"Your hair." Her fingers still lingered at the ends of it.

"It happened when Sophia..." P paused. "When I freed Sophia."

"What do you mean?" Alice asked, feeling a surge of panic.

"And then, I changed again, when my father..." Again, P stopped himself, his breath hitching. "When Geppetto was killed."

"I'm so sorry." Alice smoothed P's greatcoat, still pressed against him. She didn't think she could pull away, not now; she couldn’t bring herself to.

P shook his head, just slightly. "He only wanted my heart. He wanted Carlo. Not me."

So he had been right, then, about his assumptions. That he was only a copy. And whatever had happened, Geppetto had only wanted to take P’s heart to use again. Alice's own heart ached for him. She opened her mouth to say she was sorry, all over again, but P caught her hand. He brought it down, to his chest, pressing her palm there.

There was a beat. Not the beat of his p-organ. This was different. This was the beat of a heart.

P watched her. Waited.

Alice looked up, and examined him more closely. She noticed the changes.

"You've changed," she repeated. She knew what the difference was, but she wanted him to say it.

"I can cry, now. I cried when Geppetto died," P said. " I cried, when I became human."

"You're human." She looked at her hand, over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. His real heart.

P was a real boy.

Alice couldn't help smiling. Grinning. P was human. She took his face in her hands; his skin was soft, and warm, and undeniably human. He wasn’t the solid, steady puppet that he was.

P nodded. Still the same nod as before. And his eyes were still the same too; gentle and that too-blue of the ocean after a storm. His white hair made them seem even more vivid.

P's hands moved, from her waist, to take her cheeks. His hands were warm, and soft – human.

"May I?" he asked.

His eyes were on her mouth. He was asking to kiss her. And her lips were already parted, her heart racing, at the thought. It wasn’t a thought she’d ever entertained before, but now it seemed – right. She nodded, sliding her hands over his.

And yet, despite that fact that she was smiling up at him, pressing his hands to her face, he still hesitated a moment. He tilted his head forward, and examined her again, before he closed the gap between them. Very slowly.

P kissed Alice.

She had to balance on her tip toes, her eyes fluttering closed. This was a kiss. Her first kiss. It didn't bring any of that grand, swoopy, floating feeling that Lizzie's books described. But it did feel warm, and wonderful. It did make her feel giddy.

P pulled away first. He looked at her, as though he was gauging her reaction. The same way he had when they were fencing, when they were dancing.

She could have laughed at his nervousness; if only because she was more nervous than she ever thought she would be. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him again. She felt, rather than heard, the sound from the back of his throat. His palms pressed against her back, holding her close.

Gemini chirped. She heard it, distantly, but she was too focused on kissing P. Focused on the warmth of his breath; the warmth of him.

It was certainly not the fairy tale romance from her sister's books.

But it felt fitting for Alice Liddell.

*

The streets of Krat were still not entirely safe.

There were still a few lingering puppets, though they did very little without the king of puppets, or Geppetto, to control them. There were more of the monsters from the alchemists experiments with the petrification disease. They were still dangerous.

He took Alice back to the hotel. She walked with her arm linked in his, her skirts fluttering like petals. Her weight was steady against his, and he liked that. It made him feel safe. It sent the butterflies in his chest into a frenzy.

She was greeted warmly. Eugenie pulled her into a tight hug, and Venigni kissed her hand several times. She laughed, and it lit her face. That laughter disappeared when she heard the news about Lady Antonia's death.

P squeezed her hand, tightly, and she squeezed back.

Eventually, he managed to whisk her away to the gold coin fruit tree courtyard, for them to be alone again. Giangio was nowhere to be found, but he felt relieved by that. His curiosity about Alice, his pressing, earnest questions, had unsettled P. He hadn’t told him anything, and he had the even more unsettling feeling that it wasn’t the last he’d seen of the ‘alchemist.’

P wouldn’t think about it. Instead, he sat next to Alice, with the tree’s branches overhead. It's fruit glistened gold in the sunlight. He couldn't bring himself to let go of her hand.

"Tell me everything," Alice said. She brushed a lock of P's silver hair behind his ear, her fingers lingering over the shape of it. He could really feel it, now. Before, it felt as though everything was smothered. Muffled. He hadn’t even known. Now, it was all amplified, sending shivers down his spine. "Everything that happened, whilst I was gone."

He did. He spoke about finding Sophia, and how he’d released her. Spoke about Simon Manus’ plan to become God. He spoke about finding his father, and his father only wanting to use his heart for Carlo, regardless of what happened to P. His father, pierced through the heart, by P's replacement. Of how P held him in his arms, and cried to lose him, despite everything.

It sent another tear sliding down his cheek. Alice brushed it away. Her green eyes were soft as jade in the sunlight.

"It's strange," P said. Crying still felt strange; made his chest feel tight and his cheeks feel hot. He didn’t like it, it was painful, and that made him like it all the time. "I should hate him. I want to hate him, for what he did."

Alice's knees pressed against his. Her finger fell to the lapel of his coat. She tugged it closed, and placed her palm there.

"Love is complicated," she said.

He put his hand over hers. His flesh hand. Truly flesh now, all the way through. P leant closer, meeting her eyes, and asked, "Do you have any family?"

Alice did not reply immediately. She smoothed P's lapel, again, her hair falling forward. He tucked it back behind her ear, revelling in how it felt like touching silk.

"I did, once." Alice took a deep breath.

P shifted closer. It was instinctual, he felt, to put his arm around her shoulders. Was the right thing to do, because she leant into him, and that silky hair was pressed against his cheek. "There was a fire. I was the only survivor. It was - I thought for ten years it was my fault. But…it wasn't. It was deliberate. A man. A monster."

P's other arm held her, and Alice gripped it like a lifeline. He couldn't understand it; the grief and the pain that she would feel from that. He knew his own was terrible; was all-consuming; it was a wonder that she was still so strong.

"I'm sorry," P murmured.

Alice didn't answer. She stayed pressed against him, a warm weight, and held him back as tightly as he held her. They stayed, twisting into each other like tree branches, for an indeterminable time, to P.

Eventually, though, and slowly, Alice lifted her head. She caught his cheek, and turned his face.

"I've come to terms with it," she said, with the hint of a smile. There was still more to her story, P recognised, but there was also time. They had time, and he could wait to hear more of Alice's story. He would have time to tell her more of his own. He would tell her that he’d managed to channel Sophia’s ergo again, into a puppet.

Still, Alice hesitated, a moment, before she kissed him. He kissed her back.

And despite all of the grief and confusion swirling within him, he felt a surge of warmth in his chest.

Alice had said love was complicated.

But this didn't seem complicated.

It seemed very simple.

*

Alice reunited with Sophia. This new Sophia. She still wasn't sure how she felt about that - about Sophia being a puppet, but her soul remaining inside.

It was certainly a philosophical question.

And yet, this was her Sophia. This Sophia still had the same soft, blue gaze. The same sweet smile. The same way of taking her hands and squeezing them tightly.

"It's so wonderful that you found your way back," she said.

"Thanks to you," Alice replied. "It was your butterfly that led me here."

Sophia tilted her head to one side, examining Alice. There it was - that same glint of mischief that she'd noticed on their first meeting. It really was Sophia, inside that puppet. Though this Sophia's hands were stiffer; this Sophia's hands were cold; this Sophia had clockwork mechanisms inside her. But one day, as she remembered, she might be like P; she may find her way to becoming human, again.

"I wouldn't be so sure."

Which was interesting. Very interesting. It made Alice feel capable. As if the secret to reality-hopping was not too far away from her. She might just be able to figure it out, one day.

"Thank you." She smiled.

The hotel was - quieter, now. Without Geppetto, without the alchemists in the city, there was an emptiness. A hotel with no purpose in an empty city.

She began to spend time in P's room. She didn't stay the night – Alice may not be a proper lady, but she still had an idea of what was proper, and what was not – but she did stay late. She spent evenings reading through the posters and papers P had collected on his travels. It was a glimpse of the Krat that was there before. It filled her with the same deep melancholy, deep calmness, that came from visiting a graveyard.

It wasn't all reading. There was a lot of sitting close to P. Closer than close. Of figuring out how kisses worked; what teenagers did, when they were unchaperoned. It was surprisingly awkward work. She felt ridiculously self-conscious of herself, even though she appeared how she did in Wonderland - the way she wanted to look.

As if it mattered, anyway, when P looked at her like that. Like she was beautiful. When he looked at her like that, she could believe it. He’d seen her kill, and he still thought she was beautiful.

She sat on his bed, half on his chest, their legs tangled together. He was warm, and the sun caught his white hair, so it shone.

"Do you remember anything more?" she asked.

P held her as gently as he always held her. He turned his head to one side, and his lips grazed her forehead.

"Only what I remembered on the beach," he replied. His voice was as soft as piano music. "They don't feel like my memories. I still don't feel like Carlo."

"You're P." Alice looked up at him; at those sapphire blue eyes, that seemed to shine. "And you're – you're mine."

She hesitated to say it, and when she did, she flushed with heat and ducked her head to her chest. But P only pulled her closer. Her hand landed over his heart, and she felt it race under her palm like a butterfly's wings.

"And you're mine."

It felt right. It felt like they fit each other. Two puzzle pieces that fit. Two children who'd been thrown into nightmares and betrayed inside them. Time didn’t matter.

Alice smiled. She let P tilt her chin upwards, and saw he was too. It melted her. He kissed her, deeply.

"Do you plan to stay?" P asked.

"I think so." As much as Alice could, anyway, when she still didn’t know how to slide back or forth. It still didn't feel like she was here to stay. "What are you going to do now?"

"I suppose I want to complete my purpose," P murmured. His thumb rubbed circles into Alice's waist; that movement would make her purr, if she was a cat. "I want to save Krat. I will have to travel outside the city - find people who can help."

"The petrification disease?"

"It stems from Ergo. Now it is not being used, the infection rate should slow." P paused. "I knew a man – an alchemist – who supplied a kind of cure. Perhaps it could be treatable, one day."

Alice shifted, so she was sat in front of him. She took his hands, watching her fingers link with his. They fitted perfectly, even the metal ones.

"That sounds like a lot of work."

"It will be." P squeezed her hand. "I will have help."

Alice kissed the back of his hand. "What else do you have planned?"

"I would like to go to London. With you." P tugged their hands to him, and kissed the back of hers. First one, then the other. Alice let her hair swing forward, her chest swarming with warmth. No matter how many times he did that, it had the same effect on her. It made her feel like she was melting.

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Then P sat properly too. Pressed a kiss against her temple and cheek. She caught his shoulders, and tried not to giggle like a little girl. "I would like to help the remaining puppets - to remember, or for their ergo to be released." "That's very noble." Alice pressed her own kiss against P's cheek. His warm, human cheek. "You're much more noble than me."

He made Alice seem brutal and vicious. Made her feel ashamed for her actions in Wonderland.

"I think you are more noble than you realise,” P pressed their foreheads together. “And I have done many things that are not noble. I always did what my father asked. Until the end."

He killed whatever Geppetto had asked him to. And that still hurt him. Alice kissed him, as though that could help heal the wound.

She would stay here, she resolved. She would stay, and she would try and do some good in Krat. She would stay with P, and learn more about romance. One day, she would figure out the key to this world-hopping once and for all. She would show P London. She might even show him Wonderland. He would, she thought, understand Wonderland; he'd find it as beautiful as he seemed to find her.

Alice was practically in his lap, and couldn’t be fussed about the impropriety any longer. She looked at P, their hands still linked; her other on his shoulder. She looked at his Ergo-blue eyes. Traced constellations in the freckles across his cheeks – those hadn't changed – looked at his bow-shaped lips.

"You know," Alice said. Her voice was unusually soft, and she hated saying it. Hated being vulnerable like this, but it was hard not to be, around P. "It's the strangest thing, and I never thought it would happen to me, but I believe I—"

Her voice got stuck. The two final words were so small; should be easy to say; she was too out of practice. The words were too important.

P shook his head, and his hair moved with him.

"You do not have to say it," he said. Kissed her, again, and did not pull away. His lips grazed against hers, as he said, "I think I feel the same way." Because neither of them really knew what love was. But one day, they would.

One day, Alice thought, they'd be able to say they loved each other.

[vahshu]

♧ ° ♢ A l i c e  L i d d e l l  +  D r e s s e s  &  O u t f i t s ♡ ° ♤

[nazali]

alice: madness returns ↳     alice liddell

“ you have used me and abused me, but you will not destroy me. ”

[taleinterrupted]

HERCULES LASKARIS & ALICE LIDDELL // MASQUERADE ATTIRES

gold and white. like pride and heart. stuck in the past yet moving forward. feeling inadequate inside luxury. despite past status, never much to dress up. or big events. 

black and silver. like hope and morality. keeping it simple. loving the scene and the anonymity. despite knowing how much of an illusion it is. wearing the mask like any other day.

[chloefrazerwrites-blog]

Meet Alice Liddell, a wandering soul & a known dreamer ! 

Age: 19.  Faceclaim: Hannah Murray Sexuality: Pansexual.  Blog: here.

Growing up, Alice didn’t have many friends -- and, no -- it wasn’t due to the fact that she was strange or an outcast. It was more because of the fact that she didn’t attend a physical place of education. Her afternoons were spent sprawled out on the grass with her kitten, Dinah, and listening to her sister repeat the long never-ending list of presidents to help Alice with her History homework. 

Thankfully, Alice always had a knack for memorizing information and can spit back out anything you give in her perfect order. Which is why most of those afternoons actually consisted of her zoning out of the the real-world and into her own special wonderland filled with caterpillars and peculiar cats; only returning her attention towards her sister when it was time to answer a question, or make a comment about her sister’s improper grammar. 

At the age of fourteen, she grew tired of the same ol’ routine, and begged her parents to allow her to go a public high school, so that she can actually develop friendships with others’ her age. After a lot of arguing, and again, a lot of comments about improper grammar, the Liddells’ agreed to send Alice off to Cherry Grove high school. 

For a girl that was so proper and even curtsied when saying hello, it was difficult to meet like-minded people, but she quickly found herself in awe with Bunny Whitemore, the high school’s it-girl. Of course, Alice didn’t understand what an it-girl was, as she hadn’t been introduced to high school stereotypes yet. And, as intelligent as she was, she didn’t understand what shrooms, marijuana, LSD and an assortment of other drugs were until Bunny met her downward spiral, taking Alice with her. 

Even through the nights of blacking out, morning hangovers, and her own wonderland coming to life thanks to hallucinogenics, Alice would never take any of it back. It was everything a curious mind could want, and finally, she had others to share it with. 

Alice still partakes in the popping of pills and other drugs, but she is still proud of her friends who chose to get clean and will do whatever to help them through it. She’s always willing to take on an adventure, no matter how frightening and she’s often found with a flower crown wrapped around her head. 

[sorrowmarked-a]

buzzfeed unsolved || accepting

“ not today devil birds  ,  not today ” -- @redemptioninterlude (alice & asuka)

Asuka looked upwards, she couldn’t believe they’d actually finished production on the mass produced EVA series. How much had she missed in that coma? Well, she was awake now, and at least she didn’t have to do this fight alone. Which was great since she was just running on battery power now. “I’ll take half you take half,” she said.  And then her bright red EVA surged forward. She was piloting better than she ever had in her life. All her walls she’d let just come down. She hated to admit it but Rei was right. She needed to open her heart to the EVA. To her mother. 

The red god leapt, and crashed through the air, coming down hard on the false god, the force of the impact meeting that uncanny grin, forcing it down, down, down, and apart. Blood spraying against the body of her EVA. Red on red. 

Lady Lazarus. Back from the dead. The white EVA fell on her, and she grabbed the EVA, and broke the grinning monstrosity in two. 

[fandom-hell-ferrylass]

MTP FANFIC - A Spoonful of Sugar (Ch 2)

Alice was rolling up her sleeves as she stepped into the kitchen. Walking over to the sink, she, at last, looked up and froze. Where there was supposed to be an absolute cacophony of dirty dishes from an unplanned Unbirthday party the night before, instead sat a single, slightly damp kitchen sponge on the drain board. The entire sink and countertop were devoid of a single drip or splatter or used teaspoon. 

Alice whipped her head back and forth, taking in the completely out of place sight. The rapid head movement pulled her eyes towards the stovetop and fridge. Unconsciously she pressed a hand lightly to her mouth as she took a few quick paces to the other parts of the kitchen. A careful inspection proved what she had thought at first.

“Not just the sink, the whole kitchen’s been cleaned. But who? Not even Thack would have done the whole kitchen, even if he was doing the dishes.”

The singer cast about, trying to find a hint of the wonderful culprit. A pile of black fabric on top of the fridge caught her attention and she hopped to reach for it. Alice turned the worn beanie over in her hand, running her fingers lightly over the jagged purple line stitched into the brim. As little as she’d seen the actual article of clothing, there was no doubt in her mind who it belonged to.

With a soft smile, she laid the hat on the island beside the empty cookie jar. Turning, she began to unroll her sleeves as she exited the kitchen, suddenly faced with the unexpected question of what to do with her newfound free time.

Tarrant stood before the open door of the tea cabinet, staring at the multitudes of tins and packets and baskets. It wasn’t the sheer volume that had him frozen, no, having an infinite, everlasting supply of tea was crucial to the Hatter’s day to day existence. Nor was it the small collection of empty containers placed directly in his line of sight on the middle most shelf, a folded piece of paper tucked neatly between two tins. No, what had the Mad Hatter staring perplexed was that, for once, all the tins and packets and baskets were actually arranged. Someone had organized the tea cabinet.

Tarrant hovered his fingers over a few tins, reading the labels. The pattern the titles fell into struck a chord in the man’s head and he started. Madly he stooped and ducked and fell to his knees and climbed on the lowest shelf to see onto the highest one. At last, he stepped back and eyed the cabinet shrewdly.

“Someone has organized this tea cabinet. And they used my organization system to do it. Very clever, whoever you are, very clever indeed. My great thanks, actually - this makes finding that one honey tea Alice loves SO much easier!”

He jovially plucked a single packet out of a basket on the third top shelf and began to hum to himself as he set about preparing the tea in his Alice’s favorite mug. Only as he was set to exit the kitchen with said mug did his eyes fall once again on the still-open cabinet, and the folded paper. He plucked it neatly and unfolded it with one hand.

The handwriting didn’t belong to any of his friends. Tarrant studied the note a moment more before nimbly tucking it away somewhere inside his vest and exiting the kitchen with a flourish.

[davidhatter]

Can’t Take Less || Alter

@go-askalice

Hatter was hiding. 

He had not been out behind the counter in a long time. Which was to say like a few days but for him that was a long time. Excuses were getting harder and harder to scrounge up. Today he hadn’t even come up with one, he was just sitting in his office.

With Thistle’s breaking of their deal and Hatter figuring that out too late, the tea blend had gone from being in dire need of replenishing to nonexistent. There was, really, only one scoop left but that was upstairs in his kitchen. Down in the shoppe’s supply there was nothing left. Just an empty tin. One that he was sure his employees had all gone back to, opened, frowned, and then gone to tell their customer that they were out. 

He should have done something to the menu but every night when he closed he would look at it and then turn off the lights, retreating upstairs. 

There was a knock at the door and Hatter sat up, searching for something to occupy himself with to look busy as it opened and Alice came through. 

[themtmiseryproject]

The three girls that went missing were found dazed and alone in a cave. While we’d like to take credit for this, it seems that Bonnibel Bubblegum and Marshall Lee Abadeer where the ones to find them. They’ve been taken to the hospital for further examination.

[davidhatter]

He wished he could. For the first time in his life he wished that Alice might have something of Thistle in her to counter act the fae magic that was forcing him to act and move like this.

It was the most unsettling thing that he had ever experienced, and he had lived in this town all his life. Even the dreams, where he was not himself, couldn't compare to the lack of autonomy. It was a nightmare, one he would remember every detail of upon waking.

Hatter set down the knife as Alice began her story. Instead he picked up the sugar and began spooning it into the teacup Mirabel had set down. Once, twice, three times, and on and on as Alice spoke until, like the tea pot, the sugar bowl had been emptied out. The little mountain of white was stacked into the cup, small landslides spilling down the side and over the edge onto the saucer below.

"Doesn't seem to be working. I have an idea," he said after Alice was done, tossing the empty bowl onto the table, it knocking into the cream so it went spilling over the table. "Let's change the subject."

@go-askalice @waitingona-mirabel

The Red Queen's Revenge || Miralter

[peachyuus-arc]

After years under the eyes of staff at the asylum and numerous doctors telling her that she was crazy, Alice could hardly believe her eyes. She’d dreamed of this place before, with it’s winding roads and odd colors decorating the space like candy. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she was dreaming right now, but there were too many smells, too many sounds and feelings to be a dream. She might have been crazy, but this wasn’t a product of it. Even after all the years being told that this ‘Wonderland’ was imaginary, that none of it truly existed, she knew that as she stood here, feet planting firmly into the soil of her childhood fantasy, it was all real.

Even so, it surprised her. She had been here before, this much she knew, but she had only been a child before. She had been full of wonder and adventure, a thing that had been drained from her after years in the institution. She was still childlike and curious, but it all seemed so much scarier now. Swallowing her anxieties and stepping forward, Alice made her way through the odd terrain, following peculiar paths and stopping occasionally to admire foreign flora and oddly-colored mushrooms. She hadn’t seen a single person since she entered this dreamlike landscape, so she was quite startled to happen upon a figure in the distance. Squinting her eyes and trying to make out any features of the other, Alice couldn’t be sure of who-- or what-- it was. Rather than shying away from the human-looking outline, she ventured closer until she could make out what looked like another human. Relieved, she let out a sigh and grinned.

                                                       “Hello?”                    @veilcdthreats 

[bdrpmemes]

Alice: Is anyone else scared?

Eva: Not really. I've already lived longer than I expected.

[covents]

῾◞   @expuracordis   /  ch  .  alice  liddel  !

❛        𝐢𝐭'𝐬  𝐚𝐥𝐥  𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫  𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭,  𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭  𝐢𝐭  ?       ❜     victoria  shied  away  from  partaking  in  the  festivities   .    for  most  of  the  time  she  was  accompanying  her  parents,   at  their  heel  while  they  socialized  with  fellow  guests  &  anyone  with  significance  to  their  name,   giving  polite  introductions  to  those  they  thought  highly  of  .   but  not  more  so  than  themselves,   of  course  .    regardless  of  the  nature  of  the  event,   she  knew  what  her  mother  would  say  .    it  would  be  improper  .   &  the  last  thing  she  wanted  was  to  mortify  her  parents,   nay  make  a  fool  of  herself,    especially  in  such  a  grand  place  .   she  could  merely  dream  of  joining  the  dance  .     &   when  the  moment  arose  that  she  was  finally  separated  from  maudeline   &   finis,   she  had  no  hesitance  in  voicing  her  astonishment   &   wonder  to  whomever  was  around  to  listen .     ❛        𝐢'𝐯𝐞  𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧  𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞  𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞  𝐢𝐭  .     ❜