Alice: Madness RP

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CharlotteDelue

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What have you done?​
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Alice Liddell
Alice is a clever, intelligent and quick-witted young woman, with a curious nature, a sharp tongue and a direct way of approaching things – she is not afraid to speak her mind. Her mother describes young Alice as being reckless. She has been described as stubborn, and becomes enraged when someone says something she hates, disagrees with, or when she is talked down to, and will attack back verbally or physically.

But despite her violent tendencies she shows sympathy for towards the orphans and insane children who have also experienced an unfortunate childhood. Alice has a few hobbies. She is fond of animals, particularly cats and rabbits, and likes stuffed animals. Her favorite foods include cake, desserts and tea. She likes reading to some extent, and has a vast vocabulary. Her sense of humor seems somewhat dark. She likes drawing and visual art.

She is not is not very strong, physically, but her strong personality overcomes her physical strength.​
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The Cheshire Cat
The Cat has taken an emaciated, almost skeletal appearance; his bones can be seen through his fur-less, gray skin. He has a large head and paws, a disturbingly human-like smile which is sometimes seen spattered with blood, a long neck, sharp claws, big pointed ears, and a long tail with a tuft of fur on the end. He wears a gold hoop earring in his right ear, and his skin is covered with black marking similar to tribal tattoos. His smile looks maniacal, and he appears to have under-grown yellow incisors that are covered in blood. His eyes are also yellow, and glow with a bright, illuminating light.

His personality is of a sarcastic and witty sense. Despite his talking in grim riddles he is in fact very helpful to Alice and becomes a much needed companion.
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The Story
Despite her recent recovery, Alice has found herself back in wonderland. And it is just how she left it and the reason she called back to is the wonderlanders need her help. Is it to dethrone the queen and rule over her own madness? Is wonderland in danger of a greater force? Or is this just a defense to safe herself from ruin?
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Wonderland lives up to its name, a tangled clutter of hills beneath verdant forest beneath a sky that can't seem to decide whether it wants to be green or blue today. Nature here is as beautiful as it is untamed and chaotic, with flora wrapping around like veins and vines seemingly trying to choke its own trees.

Perhaps that, then, is why the appearance of a normal human girl seems so out of place in this land of madness.

"Then again," a throaty voice like molasses mutters, "we are all mad, here."

The Cheshire Cat slips down for his perch on a branch, landing upon the soft grass below without a sound, his four paws stabbing into the greenery like small knives. He pads silently toward a bewildered Alice, standing there warily in the blue dress that seems so familiar.

The Cat studies her for a moment, tilting his head almost ninety degrees with nary a crack of bone for the contortion. Alice looks different now, taller, steadier, the baby fat peeked away. Not quite fully grown, but certainly no waif anymore.

"Welcome back, dear Alice," the Cat hisses in a baritone. "We've missed you."
 
Alice's bewildered look doesn't fade from her face as she pulls her hand out studying it to check if this is real. She then looks towards the all too familiar cat, the Cheshire Cat. Her face then grows into a soft scowl but a bit of relief is also detected for she is joyful for the familiar face.

"Don't test me too much Cat. I am very much on edge." As she speak her eyes tend to wander surveying that her wonderland is just the way she left it. She is a bit happy however because her life in reality consisted of therapy and heavy medication and what a boring life that is.
 
"Funny you should mention that. Tests, I mean." The cat lengthens himself, stretching. This is no figure of speech. The feline becomes thinner, more gaunt, yet also longer. He snakes around Alice, surrounding her in his striped fur like all coil, eventually resting his shaggy head upon her shoulder, chin first.

"Things are different here now, then when you left. I don't know why. It is more dangerous than before. THINGS travel these woods that didn't, before. It has very much a test and has us all on...edge." His voice becomes more singsong. "It is quite the riddle, Ms. Liddell," he rhymes smoothly, "and this cat hopes you can find the answer so you can go back."
 
Her eyes focus on the head that now rests on her shoulder. And she places a hand on her cheek with a look curiosity, her index finger tapping softly.

"How come everytime I come here someone or something is looking for a fight." Her mind goes to her Vorpal Blade, if something wants to pick a fight she certainly would make it worth while.
 
The mangy coil of fur suddenly unravels like a spool of thread, from the tip of the Cat's tail to his neck. His suddenly disembodied head floats to Alice's feet and his body swiftly grows back, his paws once more on the grass.

"Hopefully it will not come to a fight," he says guardedly. "These things I speak of...they are not like anything I have ever seen. I suggest we find our old friend, the Caterpillar. He is both sagely and foolish and between those two, may know what it is that plagues Wonderland."

He pads off down a grassy path heading deeper into the woods toward the Mushroom Patch where the Caterpillar is known to dwell. He stops abruptly to glance at Alice. For once, the tooth grin is gone, the long lips pursed thoughtfully.

"I do hope you can help us, dear Alice. And for what it is worth, I do apologize that Wonderland has not been perfect in its manners in receiving guests."
 
"I do hope so, but what am I except a mad woman still dreaming of her wonderland?" She walked rather briskly to Cheshire's location in front of the impending doom the aura of the woods seemed to give off.

"And why Caterpillar? He is an arrogant know-it-all that picks on the small minded. How could he tell us anything without wanting some insane favor in return?" As she mused she crossed her arms her mind always going to the pessimistic point of view.
 
"Whom else would you go to?" asks the Cat. "Hatter and his tea mates? They would merely distract us with another of their parties. Bill is a fool and who knows where the White Rabbit is."

The Cat's ears suddenly grew wider and taller. "Though if you have a suggestion, I am....all ears."
 
Alice exasperated a long sigh as she rolled her eyes and giving Cat a small smirk. He always had a knack for sarcasm and wittiness, and even though riddles ought be his only manner of speaking he had this way of making complete sense. The Duchess' only priority was to eat her, Turtle was too over emotional and cared about his ship half the time, and the Red Queen was as tame as hysteria.

"Alright Cat, I am ready.. for whatever it is I am ready for." As she looked around anxiously she caught the glimmer of the Vorpal Blade. She bent and picked it up, testing it's weight, and dragging a finger along the edge surveying the sharpness. Perfect and sharp enough to cut through sinew as if it were paper.
 
The pair wanders through the forest, one known to Alice through old memories as the Tulgey Wood, drawing ever closer to the mushrooms that the sagely Caterpillar calls home. Slithey toves no larger than a hand scamper underfoot, crisscrossing Alice's path on their multitude of sinewy legs. Sunlight stabs through the canopy of the wood and glints off their multifaceted carapaces, which glimmer like dew on a spiderweb from the slime upon it. Their eyes turn on their stalks to study the pair, a pretty human girl and her mangy cat, which floats lazily in the air dancing around her head with its infernal grin.

One of the toves hisses suddenly at Alice, this one larger than the rest, easily the size of a large doberman. It snakelike appendages reach out at her warningly and it dithers left and right in front of Alice, barring her way, yet also avoiding the sunlight reflecting off the edge of her Vorpal Blade. Its restless movements make its slimy carapace shine like a moonstone in the light.

The Cheshire Cat smirks. "Toves are like crabs," he whispers into Alice's ears. "Territorial, their skin like patina or plate; a little knife won't stab throug that. They impenetrable...most of the time."
 
As she readies her stance, her eyes scan for a weak point. But to her misfortune she finds none. Keeping her stance she whispers softly. "Any other hints before I try to gut him like a fish?" She never took her gaze off of the tove, his movement hypnotic in a way, as if he was trying to lure her into her demise.
 
"Like plate, there are openings in even the hardest skin of a crab," the Cat muses, his eyes floating out of their sockets and swirling around his head. The demonstration mesmerizes the large tove momentarily, its multiple eyes following it on ropelike stalks before fixating again on Alice. "Though if you need a hint, dear Alice, just remember what grandmother would say: use your eyes, not your mouth..."
 
A grimace grows on her face as she gets a very deliciously morbid idea. Alice waves her hand hypnotically making his face come closer, once it is close enough. Her Vorpal Blade sliced through the air, making melodious steel soul as she each and every eye off. Once it was completely blind she drove the blade into the break of it's armor, the neck. It made a sucking sound followed by a blood choked gag. After a few moments it fell limp to the ground twitching ever so slightly.
 
The Cat hovers by the girl's gory kill as she pulls the knife out of the carcass with a wet slosh. Blood spatters her face and hands, but the Vorpal Blade remains strangely clean, such is its magic - a baneful edge that not even blood dares touch for long. The Cat prods the dead tove with a claw, tearing out a sliver of meat from beneath the impenetrable shell. He brings the morsel to his waiting lips and swallows with all the care of a connoisseur. "You should keep up your strength," he says to Alice, offering her a second piece of bloody flesh. "You never know when you will next find a meal."

As he leaves Alice to ponder whether to take the meat or not, the Cat points toward the mushroom grove with his tail. "We are nearly there, dear Alice. Can you see it? The smoke rings of our friend Caterpillar's hookah. I haven't had the chance to stop by his place in some time, certainly not before Wonderland changed again. I wonder if he, too, changed? Caterpillars are by their nature a transformative creature. From larva to caterpillar to butterfly. But what comes after that? Hmm..."
 
Her face bore a disgusted grimace as the meat that was offered reminds her of the leeches they used on her at the asylum. Repulsed by that memory she kindly refuses that offer and looks around in the grove for something less vomit inducing.

"Probably something more egotistical, I can't imagine Caterpillar taking on a more grotesque form without killing himself." By the time she finished speaking she found a bundle of mushrooms, chanterelles, her father used to cook with them all the time. And he always succeeded because he told her that they were dried apricots.

She began to munch on one as she sauntered over to were Cat indicated.
 
The pair walk through the brillig Tulgey Wood, their lean figures alternatingly slashed by shadow and light under the canopy and foliage. They move in silence toward the mushroom grove, drawing ever nearer to the rings of smoke from the telltale pipe of the Caterpillar. Night falls as they finally break through the forest and into the grove, finding themselves surrounded by giant fungi and molds. They wade into a cloud of purples, blues, and pinks, the remnants of the Caterpillar's indulgences.

It is hauntingly silent in the grove, with nary a whisper nor a wind. Alice finds the aromas around her stifling and her breath difficult to catch. The Cheshire Cat only smiles at her discomfort from where he has deigned to pad on the ground by her side. "You know, they say chanterelles have a potent insectidial quality to them, a defensive measure against hungry creepy crawlies, but perfectly safe against humans," the Cat says by way of non sequitur. "Now, where is that Caterpillar? Ah! There he is...or what's left of him."

The multicolored smoke parts, revealing the eviscerated carcass of the Caterpillar. His torso had been flayed open by sharp mandibles, his innards torn to shreds, obviously by some hungry creature. The sage's face, frozen in a scream of soundless pain and terror, caps the empty and lifeless husk. At his side is his shattered hookah.

"Many things hunt Caterpillars," the Cat says to Alice. "Sadly, we will need to find some other sagely being to learn more of what befell Wonderland. Perhaps one of our less amicable choices from before, though I would reckon that this would Bug you, dear Lady."
 
Karma is a miserable cur she thought to herself. She knows that she did this to herself, bad mouthing Caterpillar and all that. Someday she will finally shut her mouth and tame her violent tendencies.

Coming out her thoughts she pondered on the carcass of the late Caterpillar. Something wasn't just hungry but also was out to conceal information, she knew Caterpillar couldn't fight and someone hungry doesn't ransack the whole place either. "..this would bug you.." Cat's words rang throughout her ear. Then a shrieking memory came to mind, she knew the next best thing.

"We have to see the Queen." She said rather plainly but internally she was less than happy that this was the next option. Yes, the Queen was madwoman, she was Alice's insanity, the reason for the fall of her Wonderland, but in actuality was Wonderland ever the Utopia she seemed to remember or did was it just a guise her demented mind conjured up?
 
The Cat does not argue with Alice's plan of action. Leaving the corpse of the Caterpillar behind, the mismatched pair make their way through the Tulgey Wood to Queensland, the Kingdom of Hearts. Their trek through the wood is thankfully uneventful. The only claws Alice fends off are the scratchings of brambles and thorns that nip and tear at her dress and flesh, drawing scattered lines of red. The Cat flows through the foliage like a white-and-black cloud, the irksome grin never faltering, a testimony to the morbid amusement he draws from his human companion's foibles.

At last, night begins to fall upon the pair as they exit the Tulgey Wood. Before them lies the grassy plains of Looking Glass Land, the neighboring kingdom to Queensland and home of the Red and White Chessmen. The grass here is a crisp russet, the dying light turning it into a burning red. Beyond the red-russet field is a white patch of hills and beyond that, more red grass, creating a patchwork landscape of whites and reds...a patchwork, or a chessboard.

"I don't know if you know this, dear Alice," the Cat says as the sun falls and the moon rises, "but Chess, they say, is 'the Game of Kings.' A term, I believe, they apply to diplomacy and politics as well. We should be careful here, lest we become embroiled in the machinations of Kings and Queens."

The Cat, about the length of a large lion, then lies upon his soft belly, curling in a semicircle and inviting the human over with a paw. "Sleep now, Alice. It has been a long day. I shall guard your rest...if you dare to let me."

His grin widens.
 
Alice thought on that term for a while the Game of Kings, now where has she heard that phrase before? Her head ached more and more as she thought, then she finally surrendered, no use to overdrive her brain for she was tired and the cuts and the now appearing bruises were not helping. For she didn't want to sleep, she wanted to see the Red Queen, she needed to see her. But sleep deprivation was not a fun occurrence, her days of catatonia was proof for that.

"Ok Cat." She said as she went and curled up next to her companion, her eyes getting heavier by the moment, then as she placed her head on her outstretched arm she fell dead asleep. Her chest softly rising and falling as she makes little sounds afalling into a deeper sleep.
 
Sleep envelops the girl and, for a few moments, the Cat's grin fades away into a thin line of lips pursed in reflection. His visage, normally twisted in morbid amusement, softens. "Rest well, dear Alice, I will protect you as best I am able."

In her dream within a dreamland, Alice sees her London home, foreboding and dark as the night falls upon the streets. Sewer gas spews onto the roads, while the dying light of gas-lamps enhance the oppressiveness of the dark rather than push it back. Ladies of the evening in their crude makeup and worn dresses lead their clients to back alleys. Drunkards hobble from their watering holes. The shifty and craven peek out from the shadows, only to crawl back within their bleak safety.

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This is the home Alice left for her Wonderland. This is what her "therapies" try to bring her back to. Was there anything left there for her?

The images of London melt away, and in her dreams Alice finds herself standing upon a road of multifaceted crystal. The land seems vaguely familiar to her, all spires and angles, exceptionally rigid and ordered, the dream of life itself tamed by a sculptor's hand. It is a hauntingly beautiful land, but bereft of the passion, whimsy, and wonder of her Wonderland.

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Alice awakens.

The Cheshire Cat's grinning visage looms above her. Just his head this time, no body.

"Did you sleep well, dear Alice? We have some leagues ahead of us and you will need your strength."
 
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