GUESS WHO'S BACK? Not that I really even left. . Here is the next installment of an Old Role. I think I'm going to try to make this one a little more...fluent than the first. (That's the word I'm looking for right?) The first story seemed a bit choppy. The only scenes that really came out well were the ones I had envisioned and had the most fun writing. I'm hoping I can up the quality and write decently in a more consistent fashion. Please leave some reviews, and let me know how that's going.
-Static
/*\
Few enough people lived to tell the tale after encountering him in a bad mood. Today, even fewer made that list. It had only been twenty-four hours since Alice had stowed herself away in her tower, her land now overrun with beasts that would kill anything in sight, and yet already this man was distraught.
His employer had permitted him to hunt again, as now that the storm was no longer a threat, a little backlog would be harmless. He had started with the rebels.
The man stepped softly through the night-blackened forest, careful to keep his feet from snapping dry twigs or rustling the brush. The greenery, usually so vivid in the daytime, was near invisible, providing barriers and traps for anyone stupid enough to be wandering around at night. But a sliver of moon lit up the sky, and thunder from the Mountains could faintly be heard, however only one noise outmatched the lightning strikes.
A rebel campsite had been set up, and these men and women were clearly novices. They had set themselves up in a clearing, leaving themselves completely exposed. They had multiple campfires set alight, releasing a ridiculous amount of smoke into the air. Their voices were joyful and boisterous, and there was absolutely no one keeping watch for intruders. After the isolation of the Jabberwocky, they had gotten cocky, acting as though they were the ones who had taken her down, when in fact, they'd had absolutely nothing to do with the matter.
However, if they wanted the credit, well, who was he to complain? If they wanted credit, then they would be more than happy to reap the consequences right?
The man skirted around the edges of the temporary settlement, and waited. Not many people enjoyed the night - it was often too dark for them to continue on with daily activities - and so it wasn't long until the rebels had finished their dinners and extinguished the fires. He watched as the last of the light died, and listened as the tents zipped shut. He heard the rustling of changing clothes, and then the voices slowly quieting. Eventually, all he could hear was the even sounds of sleeping people.
They would never know what hit them.
/*\
She missed her young companion horribly. The woman sat in her over-large bedroom entirely alone at the tea-table underneath her bed, a small stuffed animal sitting in her lap. It had been her friends favorite to snuggle up with, on her many visits to this particular room. It was a simple bear, it's fur gleaming golden brown. The fabric it was constructed of was fluffy, and softer than silk, and it was unornamented but for two black button eyes, a sewn-on nose and mouth, and a pretty blue lace ribbon tied around it's neck.
Letting her hands encase the little object carefully, as though it were a priceless porcelain antique, she called for the maids to bring tea. Once they had done their duties, she asked that they leave, and the woman picked up her cup and sipped at the hot liquid. No one guessed the grief she was currently enduring, and that was her intention.
She couldn't ever remember feeling this lonely.
Though the girl had only been gone a day, the older woman was already drowning into the depths of solitude and depression. It was one thing if the separation was thought to be temporary.
It was quite another when she knew that she'd never see the girl again.
/*\
Heavy panting filled the darkened room. It was night, and the bedroom drapes hid the two people from curious eyes and invading lantern-light. As his hands glided over her sweat-dampened skin, and lips harshly met lips, he could almost pretend it was her.
It had been a long time since he'd had an affair with a faceless, with anyone. He'd always been hesitant in such matters, especially after taking his Role, but now he threw himself into them with a reckless abandon that worried those closest to him.
It was entirely this girl's fault. He hadn't asked her to have long, silky gold hair, straight as a board. He hadn't asked her to be petite and dainty. He hadn't asked her to have a similarly round face nor did he ask that she have the same creamy white skin.
He hadn't asked her to look so much like her. So he could not be blamed if he had cornered her in one of the hallways and demanded she make her way to his bedroom in approximately one hour. He hadn't even asked her name, and simply used the one of the girl he truly desired.
But still, there was fault here. She would have never answered one such request as this faceless girl did. In fact, he'd wager that she would have brutally murdered him before she looked away and said, "As you like." She never would have allowed herself to be caught in his bedroom, and - if by some miracle she ever agreed to be so intimate with him - she most certainly wouldn't have tolerated his domineering behavior. She wouldn't let him pin her to the bed, and she wouldn't sit tamely and let him do as he pleased. She wouldn't have choked out his name in a simultaneously fearful and pleading manner. One such situation would have been entirely on her terms.
No, it was all wrong. He thought that shutting off the lights would make him forget that he could not look into a pair of fearsome turquoise eyes, but it wasn't that easy. As much as he wanted to pretend, there was simply too much wrong with the servant girl's behavior. She would be so much harder to win over. It would never have been so simple, she was simply too tricky to be so easily caught. He couldn't convince himself that the girl in his bed was someone else. So once he'd had his way with her, he let her rest a moment, and then he asked that she collect herself and leave.
He listened as the girl lifted herself to her feet and stumbled a bit. He heard her shuffle into her corset and petticoat, and listened as she tied the pieces together. He also heard her quiet weeping the entire time.
He had thought himself too superior to fall for the Foreigner. He had thought himself immune to the magics of Wonderland that forced him to find her oh so very alluring. He had thought that - as always - he would be the one in control.
Now look where his arrogance had left him.
/*\
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The sounds in the workshop were ever increasing. He twisted a countless number of screws, repositioned hundreds of clock hands, and replaced dozens of round glass panes. All he ever did was work, but tonight...Nothing could persuade him to stop.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
He tried to pretend the coffee he was drinking only deserved 82 points, but it was no use. As much as he'd liked her, she did not make nice coffee. She'd been getting better but...so many things had gotten in the way. The vial had vanished and she left with it, but that had been alright.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
She still visited, so he could choke down her coffee. On the occasions she showed up, she would still do his household chores, she'd make his food, and she'd sit at his desk to watch him work. She had made such an impact on his life, that recovering from the loss of her assistance had been damn near impossible.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
From the outside, he might have looked fine. Again, all the man did was work, and right now was no exception, but those who knew him well...They would see the strain in his fingers, the slight scrunching of his eyebrows. They would see the renewed speed with which he worked, and the rarity with which he sipped his coffee. He was upset, and though he'd tell himself time and again that everything was alright...
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
He put down his screwdriver and sighed, glaring down at the timepiece. Fine. He missed her. There, he acknowledged it, but he did not feel better in the least. She had been one of the only people he could tolerate, and she was the only person he had ever genuinely felt anything more than "like" for. His mother would have had a field day with this. He sighed and picked the screwdriver back up. He didn't know of any way to get her back.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
He would never be graced with the sight of her smiling face ever again, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
/*\
At last, the time was here! After unending practices, hardcore training, countless public speaking lessons, and several deaths, the show was finally perfect! It was perfect...except for that one small act.
It wasn't that the performers were messing up, and it wasn't that the animals were throwing hissy fits. In fact, it was acted out quite smoothly, with zero issue. The acrobats landed on the assigned places, the tigers entirely cooperative. The horses did not spook, and the knife throwers had a gorgeous sort of precision he hadn't seen for years. Still, the man could not help but think that it was missing something.
Then a voice, emanating from the mask on his belt, piped up.
"What if we lit the throwing knives on fire?"
Yes, that would do! Fire was always a good fall back. Especially since it might appeal to their surprise guest.
/*\
Wow. Only one chapter and already, angst, angst, some plotting, and more angst. Lot's of grief too. Some of them are dealing better than others. xD So how's that for a first chapter? I feel quite satisfied with it.
-Static