Ignorance, If you create a legitimately PERFECT profile for Alice and post it on the DT and swear on your character's life that you will be on often enough to lead the rebellion, then I will relinquish my role as Alice to be the King of Hearts.
They say the world is your oyster; but what if you keep kosher?
I could smell it coming, and I loved it. It was war, and that was my specialty. I've been dealing with war my whole life. It made me the man I am today.
But this war was special. It dealt with my home. I've been watching everything unfold day by day, and I could say with out a doubt I knew exactly how everything was going to turn out.
But why spoil it? If nothing else, I was going to have fun with this. I was going to make sure this was worth my time.
"Love is the name for our pursuit of wholeness, for our desire to be complete."
If you know what you absolutely want for Alice, then you keep her. Does the Kig of Hearts play a major role in this? I could be him if you'll PM everything you want him to be, like his personality, his goals, his intentions (antagonist/pro).
“I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then." - Lewis Carroll
This is my chance, I think as I see the group of rebels approach the castle. I'm sweating like crazy and am twitching all over. All of the others assume that it's just another show of my cowardice, and they taunt me for it. "Wanna fly away, Jubjub? You scared?" I say nothing, but my blood is boiling inside. I am not a coward, I just don't want to kill the rebels. No, all of these gaurds, even the Queen herself dead at my feet is what I truely desire, I think, but I take a deep breath to stay calm. Be patient, Jubiah. Soon they will be. With that thought in mind, I tell the gaurds that I had forgotten my flight gear.
When I returned to my quarters, however, I had already hatched a new plan, a cosiderably more risky one. Carefully, I unstrapped my smallest dagger from my ankle strap and slid it up my shirtsleeve, the tip of it just poking out. I grab my flight gear and strap it on, just in case I have to make a quick getaway.
As I walk back to the front of the castle, I see that rebels in the distance. They are a motley crew, it seems, but they seem determined, especially with the generals rallying them, exciting them, encouraging them. As I approach the other gaurds, one comes up to me, saying, "Hey, birdboy, what are you gonna do? Fly away efore the fight even begins?"
I pull him in close, stabbing the knife into his sternum with a visious upward cut. Gritting my teeth, I say to the dying gaurd, "It has begun."
Last edited by Pencil2paper on Sat Nov 10, 2012 7:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Look out! He's got a daisy!" - Making Money by Terry Pratchett
Chuck Norris- worshiping gnomes, undead pandas, pet chupacabras and undead Keanu Reeves-what could possibly go wrong?
"As I walk back to the front of the castle, I see that the rebels are almost here. As I approach the other gaurds, one comes up to me, saying, "Hey, birdboy, what are you gonna do? Fly away efore the fight even begins?"" I love the descriptions and your dramatic final words to the guard. However, the Rebels are not yet approaching. They are just now rallying their troops. I am going to post as Alex today, and then we can go from there, but will you edit your post. Just so that we don't confuse anyone
They say the world is your oyster; but what if you keep kosher?
"Fuck! That one hurt!" I said as I was stitching up my knife wound. Last night I had been stupid. I mean REALLY stupid. I had gone to celebrate with a few a new bud because I had found the perfect location for the Rebels. In an abandoned industrial skyscraper. Or, rather, under it. I was perfect. Not was I am used to, being from the countryside and all. But for a base, it's beautiful. In a demonic sort of way. I was surprised that my coded message rallying the Rebels had gotten a reply that quickly. From a young eager named Alec. Or Alex. He's Alex. Like me. But I call him Alec. It feeds my ego knowing that I am the only Alex. You know? Nah, you probably don't. Whatever. Cool kid though. Real smart. He even corrected me on my own code. But he was withdrawn. Obviously some trust issues. Serious ones. Anyway, he helped me navigate the tunnels and their constricted corridors. Smelliest fucking place I have ever been in. It has about 20 levels underground. Maybe twice that. I don't know. But there were hangars and vehicles, training facilities, even mess halls. And above ground, it's like a prison. Barbed-wire everywhere. Lookout towers with fully supplied, silenced, sniper rifles. Ammo. Weapons. Armor. Everything. Then we went to paint the town red. He didn't seem to enjoy the partying as much, but I could see the nostalgia in his eyes. Anyway, I got wasted out of my mind. There was a lone Heart Nobody at the bar. I went up he started to talk shit to me. So I punched him in the face so hard that I dislocated his jaw. He knifed me, I knifed him. I think I may have killed him, but who knows. Maybe those memories will come back when I can afford therapy.
They say the world is your oyster; but what if you keep kosher?
I quietly watched Alex stitch up the wound, noticing the way his muscles flexed. He kept tossing me looks, questioning ones full of.. well, questions. Probably wondering where I had come from, considering that I had kind of just come out of nowhere. Off the streets. I had showed him this Base- I slept here sometimes, when the streets were too cold or the Queen was in a bitchy mood and sent her soldiers everywhere.
Alex had tried to make small talk when we first met. Asked about my mom and dad. I had shrugged off his questions without replying, instead helping him show all the Rebels into the Base. I could tell he was still curious, though, and that more questions would probably be on my way, but that didn't matter right now, I just kept watching him bandage those wounds with those beautiful, amazing fingers. I wonder what else those hands could do... I noticed his look and quickly snapped out of my fantasy. "Is there something wrong, sir?"
I watched the two boys from a distance. They were the future of Wonderland in my eyes, whether they knew it or not. The muscular one of the two was stitching himself up. I could already tell he'd be the leader around here. The other one looked a bit fruity in my eyes, but he also seemed smart. He'd shown the muscular guy the big building nearby, and I was guessing they'd be using it for something special very soon.
I knew what they were planning, and it wasn't going to work. The queen had wiped out all of the ammo from the weapons and all the gas for the vehicles a long time ago. But that was alright, I could fix that. For the right price.
I put on my best old man face, fixed my stick to look like a cane, acted like a had a limp, and made my way towards them. When I was close enough for them to hear, I tried out a croaky voice and told them "Hello young men. I represent the Queen, and I'd like to ask you a few questions..."
Last edited by veeren on Sat Nov 10, 2012 7:59 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Love is the name for our pursuit of wholeness, for our desire to be complete."
Minerva I played with a Heart soldier's hair, giggling childishly. "What a cutie." As he chuckled, clearly pleased, I studied his uniform under a guise of coquettish smiles, noting every detail for future reference. I hadn't had to be a solider before, but the time was coming. War was finally coming. I could feel it. My smile must have sharpened, for my fly pulled back. "You alright?" he asked, his breath laced with the smell whiskey. I laughed, waving my hand to dismiss his worry, and pulled my legs up under me on the settee to scoot closer to him. Tracing his ear, I whispered, "I was just thinking of all we could do... with these." I pulled handcuffs from one of the many pockets on my skirt and raised a cool eyebrow of invitation. His eyes widened and dipped to my lips when I ran a slow tongue over them. A knock sounded on my door, and I bit back an unladylike curse, smiling at my client in apology instead. "Just give me a moment." I sauntered toward the door and cracked it open. "What?" I hissed and frowned severely at a panting, dust caked woman. "You're supposed to be-" I caught myself and spat, "Working." "Someone has a message for you, Madam." I froze and glanced back, holding up a finger for the soldier. I slipped into the hallway and closed the door. "What?" She leaned forward. "Our friends have finally moved into a house." I grinned. "That's wonderful. I need to pay a call." She revealed a small slip of paper. "Here is a hint." It was a miniature map of the city. I studied it for any hint and frowned. After a bit of thought, I held it up to the light and revealed a small dot. Nodding, I handed it back to my girl. "Burn that." I glanced at my door and sneered. "I have a loose end to tie up really quick, and then I shall be on my way." I gave her one final glance and murmured, "Get back to your post as soon as you can." Pasting an alluring grin on, I undid a few of the buttons on the front of my dress and returned to my game of cat and mouse as quick as I could. It was time for me to pay my respects to leaders I had yet to meet.
Adonis I looked around and tapped my cigarette against the corner of the building that was supposed to house the Rebel forces. I flicked the stub into the street and leaned against the wall, rifling through my bag, past the medicinal crap for a bag of rolling paper and tobacco. I picked out a piece of thin paper and held it up to the sunlight for a moment. I was in the right place. I skillfully rolled a smoke with the paper and some of the tobacco, promptly lighting it. I watched the edge smolder and took a drag, releasing the smoke as the evidence disappeared in the same cloud. Indeed, many things about this war were unclear. When I attempted to look forward, even a week, the conflict was hidden by a thick fog. There were too many variables. Too many people had too many choices. I watched an old man limp along on the other side of the street. A sneering, healthy, young man flashed in my mind's eye. On his chest was an emblem, a spade and a heart, split in half and pushed together. I raised my eyebrows and followed the 'old man,' taking my staff from its place against the wall. "A cocoon hides many things," I muttered to myself, "And sometimes the butterfly's wings are black." I did not trust this man.
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