Curiouser and Curiouser is my interpretation of what would happen when you take a bucket full of the amazing Mortal Instruments cast and throw them down the rabbit hole. This is my first fanfic for TMI that I've put up online though there are others in working progress and really the fact this first installment is now on here is really thanks to JustAFantasyGirl who is kind enough and amazing enough to have put up with me since childhood and kicks my ass at least every second day to get my butt in the chair and do some writing... so if you like this you have her to thank for the posting!
I've uploaded the first two chapters because I always feel one isn't enough to really get a feel for a story, especially since due to the nature of the story the chapters are not -in general- going to be miles long. Basically if you're new to me as a writer I want feedback- I love feedback! I crave it almost as much as I crave the moments when I can remove myself from the world and curl up with chocolate, a glass of wine (don't worry since I'm from the UK I am of age!) and the marvel-lous (See what I did there for ya Helen ;)) Game of Thrones.
However enough rambling... this is the story of two rather messed up girls, the mother of all hangovers, a pact to save a lost brother and a whole other world they were not expecting. Stay tuned to discover where I've planked the rest of our beloved TMI characters throughout the weird and brilliant Wonderland.
Remember: FEEDBACK PLEASE! (I don't bite, I promise and I'll answer any questions/concerns/ideas you have if you send me them!)
Rated M mainly for strong language and some content.
-H
The first thing Clary was aware of as she pried open her eyes was the smell of stale beer, vomit and tequila. Predictably her stomach reacted by lurching violently and causing her to scramble onto her hands and knees so that she could throw up into the toilet she'd been asleep beside. It was the fluffy pink bath mat that gave it away; she was in Isabelle's en suit and they had quite clearly been out on another bender.
Pain wrenched through her back muscles and she felt as though her ribs might crack with the strain of heaving whatever take out food they'd binged on before passing out from her stomach and her knees felt bruised as they took her weight on the cold tiled floor. It was horrendously familiar, the nausea and the pounding head- it had been a fairly crappy summer and the only solution they had been able to conjure was to lose themselves in alcohol, crappy club music and any flurry of random boys that passed their way.
Clary wiped her mouth on her forearm and pushed her sweat-soaked fringe from her forehead with a groan. An equally pathetic retort made her turn around and crawl towards the bedroom carpet which was much more forgiving on her sore, bare knees. Isabelle Lightwood, her best friend, was splayed out of the floor beside her bed, quite obviously after she had fallen off of it in search of a sick bucket in the night. She was still wearing her dress from the night before; a shimmering silver stretch of material that clung as tightly as a second skin, and her tights were ripped. With a determined grimace Clary reached her friend's side and shook her shoulder roughly, "Wake up Isabelle, shit we're a mess. Get up!"
An arm came out of nowhere and smacked Clary across the back of the head. "Ouch! You bitch, move!"
When she was finally conscious enough the dark haired girl pulled herself up and sat beside Clary who was leaning against the bed, bracing her hands on her knees. "What the fuck happened last night?" she moaned.
"There was a lot of tequila," Isabelle muttered and Clary felt herself wretch. "Sore spot for you Fray?"
"Fuck off."
"Well we clearly had an awesome fucking night, what time is it?"
The clock on the other side of the room was too far away for Clary to read through the hung-over haze so instead she dug her phone out of her pocket and swore, "It's out of battery."
"I don't even know what I've done with mine."
"Probably gambled it away in an attempt to win a ride in some rich guy's Mercedes again-"
"Oh my God that was once, Clarissa give it a rest!" Isabelle pulled her long hair back and tied it into a loose bun. "Where's my brother? I'm taking it my mother is still incommunicado otherwise she'd have given us hell for all this by now."
"She's probably at the Court House."
"Yeah, yeah divorce is a bitch yadda yadda… still it's like my house is the home of the freakin' dead these days."
Clary glanced sideways at her, "It's not her fault your father is a cheating son a bitch."
"She's not exactly the house-wife type though is she… MAX!" She yelled suddenly and Clary cringed. "MAX WHAT TIME IS IT?"
The house echoed in silence and after a few moments the two girls looked at each other. "Maybe he's still sleeping, or he could have gone with your mom…"
"Mom would never take him to her lawyer's… I'm pretty sure she's sleeping with the smarmy bastard- no he's got to be in the house." She dragged herself to her feet and Clary followed her from the room calling out to the youngest of the Lightwood children.
"Max?!"
After a sweep of the house they regrouped in the hall in Isabelle stamped her foot impatiently, "MAX COME OUT RIGHT NOW THIS ISN'T FUCKING FUNNY ANY MORE!" There was a hysterical note to her voice and Clary put a hand on her arm, she knew why she was panicking… the disappearance of her elder brother six years ago meant that hide and seek was definitely no longer a favourite game.
"Don't panic before there is cause," she reminded her, "There could still be a logical explanation to all of this."
"Then where is he? He's only nine Clary he can't just wander out of the house alone…" she broke off with a horrified expression. "We- we didn't take him with us last night, did we?"
Clary felt herself go pale. "Why would we? We were going out on the circuit…"
"No. It was dinner, we, we were going for dinner and then we met that guy with the flyers for the party-"
"We would have brought Max home first," Clary whispered, "We're not that irresponsible."
Isabelle put her hands over her face, "We did bring him home. I know we did. I remember telling him to stay put and not stay up too late watching cartoons and I left him… a house key just in case we-"
Clary swallowed her rising bile, "He wouldn't have followed us, surely Izzy."
"He wanted to come!"
"He's nine! He knows better than that!"
Keys jingled in the lock and the two turned to witness Mayrse Lightwood walk into the house in her tight blank pant suit and her hair the same colour as her daughter's piled high onto her head in a tight bun. "What's going on?" she asked sharply, "Isabelle Lightwood what the hell are you wearing and why are you still dressed like a prostitute at two in the afternoon?"
"Mom we-"
"Can't remember anything? Well that doesn't surprise me you're drinking like your father these days! You're setting a horrible example to your brother- where is he?"
Clary opened her mouth to try and explain but Isabelle surprised them both by acting out of character and bursting into tears as a horrible monster of dread made home in Clary's stomach. What had they done?
As I said, second chapter shall be up in mere moments! I hope you enjoyed the short introduction and please, please let me know what you think! :)