015 - video/action!

[digophelia]

[A good morning to you, Asgard! Somewhere in Needle in a Haystack, there's a soft yelp, followed by the pillows in the back of the store being tossed around. A little girl no more than seven with bright green eyes and a normal blue, pinafore dress. If it looks familiar it should.]

Ahh!

[She screams, suddenly taken aback by the golden retriever behind her.]

Oh, no! What on earth- oh, my goodness...!

[Panic. Maybe. Or maybe panic, the little girl seems to calm down and plops down with the pillows throwing a blanket over her head as if it that will calm her. Deep, deep breaths.]

I don't remember the white rabbit or looking through the mirror. Oh, no, Lizzie will be so furious with me, wandering off again.

[She pokes her head back out and to the dog, clutching his face.]

Is this Wonderland, fellow? It looks like something Hatter would have, but it's not. Oh, what am I to do?

[She looks around one more time, burying herself against the dog. The little girl seems at a loss here, huffing against herself. As strange as this is, she's calm down enough not to be bothered. He's soft, the pillows are soft, and so is the blanket over her head.]

No, it has to be something from Hatter, it smells like... like tea! And much more. Please tell me, dog, which part of Wonderland is this? Did I go through the looking glass? Where is the White Rabbit? Perhaps I can find my way to the White Queen or... or Caterpillar...!

[ooc; alice has been cursed! action for the folks at needle in a haystack :3c]

Comments

action!

[seventeenth]

[That sure was some screaming Desmond just heard from the back room! It wouldn't be too alarming, but whoever it is doing the screaming sounds much younger than even their youngest employee. He doesn't hesitate to set aside the glass he's cleaning and make his way towards the back room, peering through the door both warily and curiously. The voice that he can hear isn't really familiar, but that accent sure is.]

Uh-- hello?

action!

[digophelia]

[By all means he can look in the back; Alice thought it was a great idea to sleep there. Matter of fact, it shouldn't come to as a surprise she's spent half of her time sleeping here. Of course Julius, such a sweet dog, knows everyone here and does nothing else but wag his tail. But it's a little Alice who pops her head out of the blankets to look at the older gentlemen.

What a weird accent; she's certainly never heard one like that in Wonderland.]

Hullo, sir. Who might you be?

[seventeenth]

[Well, Alice is certainly looking... tinier... than Desmond remembered. There's an awkward pause as he regards her, not quite sure how he's supposed to proceed. Still, she already seems less shy than she had before...]

Oh-- uhh, I'm Desmond. I work here. [And so do you, he thinks to himself, but he thinks it's best if he doesn't actually tell her that.]

Action

[canmakemore]

[Oh my goodness that certainly is a tiny child who looks astonishingly like Alice. Caterina isn't sure what the girl will be like so young, so she approaches carefully, kindly.]

Are you Alice?

[digophelia]

[Alice is seven years old and she's never seen many guests over in her father's house out in the country side of Oxford. Except that one man that her older sister calls a "toadie". She's used to older people, it's not as if she has a lot of play mates, other than her cats and older sister. Nonetheless, a much smaller Alice tussles out further, nearly stumbling over pillows. She doesn't stand up right away, merely cocks her head to the side and looks at him.]

Desmond? I don't remember Hatter having someone by that name. Is this Hatter's realm? It smells like it is.

Action

[digophelia]

[In Wonderland, she's used to people knowing her name the second time around, but this is going to make Alice yelp again, hiding behind the dog.]

Th- that's my name! Who are you? Where is everyone else?

[singlehandedly]

[It's well after the screaming that Malik even shows up in the shop at all. With enough people to go around, there's no need to always take opening shifts.

As per usual, he makes a round around the shop before going to settle behind the counter, checking if everything is in order and if there's a customer who needs help, perhaps.

So, a little girl poking around the store is hard to overlook.]

Can I help you?

[It's not the kind of store that children usually wander into. Unless they're especially curious children, of course.]

[digophelia]

[Unfortunately, Alice like any other seven year old has no tact. I.e. his arm is hard for her not to notice.]

Excuse me, sir, where is your arm? Did the Red Queen take it?

[Why not, she's screaming "off with her head" all the time. Actually, that would be a new one...]

Might I ask you to point me where the White Queen is? I wasn't supposed to be here.

[canmakemore]

[Caterina smiles gently.]

I do not know who you mean by "everyone else," but my name is Caterina and even if you don't remember, we are friends.

[digophelia]

[She ends up shaking her head vehemently.]

You're not from Oxford! Unless you are most certainly from another part of Wonderland.

[canmakemore]

No, I'm not from Oxford, nor am I from Wonderland. I am from Forli, in Romagna, which is a part of what you likely know as Italy.

Are you from Oxford?

[digophelia]

[INSTANT POUTING.]

I am from Oxford. Then if you're not from Wonderland...

[That's it. This doesn't fit the seven year old's memories of her precious Wonderland. Oh, yes- she's still stuck on how rude it would be without at least excusing herself, yes? Or maybe even a curtsy.

Why not both? Alice curtsies and attempts to excuse herself.]

Excuse me, I must find out where I am at. Perhaps Caterpillar or the Hatter will know.

[singlehandedly]

[Well that makes him pause.

He does recognize her now, from the face and the voice and the eyes, even if she's so small now, but he frowns down at her for a moment.]

...No. A knight did. And I do not know of either of the Queens you speak of.

Where were you supposed to be, if not here?

[canmakemore]

[Oh no little miss, you're not getting away from Caterina that easily, not when her mother instincts are firing on all cylinders.]

I don't think they are here, Alice, at least, not that I know of. You are not in Wonderland, you are in Asgard.

[digophelia]

A knight?

[She repeats it softly. The only conclusion to this little girl is something must have happened in Queensland. How scary!]

With my sister Lizzie. I'll make her very mad if I am not there when she wakes up.

[seventeenth]

[The Hatter, huh? Desmond smiles, the expression a little wry.] Sorry, no hat makers in this shop. [Desmond steps inside the room properly, though he leaves the door open.]

Can't say I've ever heard of this Hatter guy, either. [Which is a lie, of course, but he doubts the truth would be any help to her, anyway.]

[digophelia]

[She's successfully stopped the tiny girl from making a b-line from the shop.]

What is an "Asgard"?

[digophelia]

[She balls up her fists and plops them against her dress and apron.]

He is not a hatter maker! He's the Mad Hatter.

[Alice says this like it's the most obvious thing in the world.]

[canmakemore]

[She won't follow, not yet, she'll pull out a chair for Alice if she wants it and sit down herself.]

It is a city, ruled by people who call themselves gods. They bring a lot of people here because they need help with their troubles.

[digophelia]

[She looks at the seat and back to Caterina, raising a thin black eyebrow to her.]

What sort of troubles?

[singlehandedly]

[He nods, his expression softening some. Little siblings running off was possibly one of the worst things that could happen to a child.]

And the White queen would help you return?

[canmakemore]

[Hmm. How best to explain this.]

The people who live here have lost their color, and we have to bring it back.

[digophelia]

The White Queen helped me the last time.

[Alice gives a small assuring nod, even with her doubts. After all, Wonderland is nonsense, pure and simple.]

Poor Lizzie didn't want to be alone, you see.

[digophelia]

[Naturally, the first thing that comes to mind to little Alice is the white roses and painting them before everyone losing their heads. Though something seems more complex, something much more than that.]

Do we paint them?

[singlehandedly]

Oh?

[he tilts his head, questioning. There was a connection but he might as well ask which it is, rather than presuming. Clearly there was quite a story here.]