Well hello dear

reader, my birthday today has spurred on a...birthday resolution "So to Speak" in which I finally put this upon Fanfiction so it's not just taking up space on my computer, so here I am and this is what I am doing. I thank you for considering clicking my story despite the awful summary. The Full summary is= Kadence Mcgill is a quick witted seventeen year old who's fidelity always lay within herself, but a series of complications and one huge misadventure forces her to find her loyalties between two sets of people, the outlanders and the White Monarchy's Loyalists. With ties to Stayne and his rebellion accidently finds friendship in Hatter and Mirana, but without true conformation of the truth she finds herself caught in a web of her own deceit. Ultimately her final choice of sides impacts and jeprodizes the lives of every one she cares for and could send Underland into chaos. Hatter/OC with vague, VAGUE insinuations of Alice/Hatter, but may I repeat VAGUE, but Alice does get involved in the story line down the road. (The outlanders are all the people who have ever been banished, by the way... it will make more sense when I post the other chapters)

One last note before I start rambling is that my story will be about as fluffy as a coyote with mange, which is furry and what not in spots and in others it's just, well, fleshy. Which is my poor metaphor for this will not be "Fluffy." BUT DO NOT LET THIS TURN YOU OFF READING THIS FOR THERE IS ROMANCE, eventually.

I choose a song for each chapter which I subsequently have chosen Foundations-Kate Nash, but one could also listen to Kiss with a Fist-Florence and the Machine. I personally found Kate Nash's song to works better, despite that fact it works better for a relationship kind of situation and this is not one, but whatever. You don't have to listen to the songs I post, but thhey are more or less suggested if you want to see what I was seeing. Yep, thanks, read and review.

(I do not own the main sub plot and original characters from both the book and movie which belongs to Tim Burton and Lewis Carroll. The songs I chose for the chapters belong to the musical artists. The characters I have produced and the plot I have created belong to me.)

CHAPTER ONE: A PIGEON'S WARNING

The humid summer air caused my arms to stick to the leather clad chair. I writhed uncomfortably, separating my skin from the sticky surface with a resounding hiss. I cringed at the embarrassing sound and looked up hesitantly to see their reactions. Nothing. I sighed. Even negative attention would be better than being totally ignored.

As I mused on about the neglect I was being put through, Bill Ascot tried posing a joke that, quite obviously, didn't go over well with its offensive insinuations and poor verbal execution. Daniel recoiled in his chair with a chafed chuckle. I shook my head behind my mop of hair. He brought me to this! I thought in incredulous disbelief. I was never involved, much less, acknowledged at these meetings! I didn't even know why I was supposed to come, their conversations of expansion and surpluses never concerned me, nor did either of their presences ever appease me.

Then a looming question popped into my head, Was I supposed to pay attention? My panicked brain sent my eyes flying up to inspect the situation. Bill was trying to balance his pen, to no avail, upon the crux in his lip. The question answered itself, Nope. I scratched the back of my ear and coyly detached my eyes from the endless flashes of cheesy grins and rumbles of uncomfortable laughter.

What to do, what to do,

I deliberated while tapping my chin in a rhythmic motion. After a moment's worth of contemplation I was able to infer that there was absolutely nothing to do, at least nothing amusing. How was I to find entertainment in this dark maroon room when I was confined to this chair? I slumped downwards and tucked in my chin. Antique Life Savers with Ascot printed on it, steering wheels to boats; anything you could think of concerning the company was crammed into glass observing cases that lined the walls just out of my physical and visual reach.

A low grouse tore from my throat that went unnoticed, yet again.

"Yes my Great Grandfathers' would be proud to see the company today," Bill said, hands wavering towards the single large painting of the original owners hanging dead center on the wall in front of us. It was an understatement to say Bill Ascot was proud of his company.

Analytically I dissected the visual composition. It was coated in thick layers of burgundy, myrtle, chestnut and ash oil paint, creating a realistic texture and colour palette. The background of a desk and lamp were poignant, but not overwhelming. My eyes then dropped to the little golden placard that was fused to the haughty oak frame by small, almost undetectable nails. I winced and focused my eyes on the small text, Charles Kingsleigh and Lord Ascot 1903 it read in simple castellar font. The picture was of the two men shaking hands, one with jaw length brown hair and a charming smile, the other with grey hair and a warm expression, a warmth that obviously didn't transcend through the family lineage.

I sighed hopelessly and buried my head in my hands. A headache rose out of the depths of my meticulous observation of the archaic piece of art. There was only so much enthusiasm for antique pieces left in me now, for in this room all they did was smother and suffocate me with their Victorian charm and sepia stains.

I separated my fingers and looked between the slits to the dirt under my nails, which grew increasingly more interesting as the seconds flew by. My dad, better known as Daniel, and his boss conversed about stimulus packages and bonuses. The enticement became consuming right before I finally snapped and began impatiently picking. When Daniel said this was going to be a "family vacation" I didn't know his definition was to sit in your boss' bureau all day, I pondered only to feed my growing rage.

New York, the unfortunate place I came from, had nothing on England, the very place I always saw myself living, but at this rate I was never going to see any of it now that I was here.

My attention was adverted once more to a pigeon cooing its fragile melody on the opposite side of the window, the side I wished I was on. The bird and aged skyline of Downtown London beckoned for me to come out, but alas I was constrained to this office just to listen to two middle aged men gawking about the success of their business.

Daniel was of the second highest importance in all of the company, right below CEO, but still had to kiss the ground his only boss walked on.

Sceptically, in the recesses of my mind, I considered jumping from the glass, anything would have been better than being there. Maybe if I clung to the elaborate detailing of the architecture I would be able to get down safely from these twenty one stories, or...just fall.

I'd fallen out of trees, off of bicycles, and out of chairs, none really left any lasting damage, I deduced. But after my brief wave of optimism I succumbed to the fact that this fall may leave some "permanent" scratches.

So diving down from the window was out of the question. I sighed; all I could do now was watch the bustle of life from my prison. My mind lured my eyes to wander out of the room and into the sky. Falling would be peaceful, I speculated as I watched the bird with its perfect violet and gray feathers dance in the wind. I could almost feel the air swirling around and caressing my skin. I could hear the low whistling of the breeze in my ear. I could see the sky above slowly growing and growing, engulfing everything in a veil of blue.

Smack.

I jumped back bracing the arms of the recliner for dear life. Everyone's expressions were emotionless as we cognitively stared out in horror. Slowly slipping down the window was the very pigeon I had envied seconds ago. Now it's blood was spattered across the pane of quartz and its feathers were mashed into the copper scaffolding. I guess I forgot one essential factor. What happens when I hit the ground? This gracious bird showed me the consequences of my actions if I did so in black and white. Death.

Bill Ascot, the man one spot above Daniel, and great grandson of Lord Ascot, scoffed a laugh. "I swear that happens everyday here, those stupid flying rats don't know their wing from their feet."

I was overwhelmed with disgust as I watched Daniel uneasily chortle. Mocking dead animals wasn't his kind of humour, and far from mine, so why was he even entertaining this sick, perversion of humour?

My fingers bent and twitched uncontrollably, the only way to restrain them was by gripping the bottom of my chair. My intentions were to flip his pine desk over on to Bill's lap, maybe I'd break his leg, or something of that nature, and scream out the truth to that hideous man's face, "The only reason that poor thing hit your window was because the lights from your buildings disoriented it!" University degree or not Bill Ascot was the one who couldn't tell his ass from his mouth.

Then to Daniel, I'd demand a paternity test. Who would want to be blood linked to some sadist.

That tingling sensation continued to crawl from my hands to my lips, causing them to quiver and quirk, coaxing heated words to spew from them. "You ruddy bastard," I seethed under my breath, but once more my words fell upon deaf ears.

This was the final irritation that caused my thoughts to take on a whole new degree of malice. Every fibre of my being began to tremble and every thought that ran through my head told me to pounce across the table with the ferocity of a tiger and tear Bill's throat out with my bare hands. I smirked slightly as I imagined it. Then with a change in the feeling of the air my subconscious, which knew full well I would never commit the deed, let the thought and its accompanying aggression slip languidly from my mind.

"Well Kadence," Bill said, acknowledging me for the first time since I'd come in an hour and half prior, "We have been considering cutting some more jobs in our shipping rigs to replace them with people who will venture into areas like Mongolia, India, Kenya, and Romania to," he took a moment to find the right words, "mix with the people there, find out how different countries may fare with our business and eventually start business up with them, small franchises. This job in particular we're looking for level headed young adults like you," the painfully chipper fifty-something year old man explained, "And Kadence you may be sitting there and be thinking, 'How does this affect me?'"

Damn right I am, I thought sourly.

"Well Kadence this business venture concerns you, because you would be the perfect type of correspondant for us. It would only be for a few weeks and your father has always told me how you wanted to travel."

My jaw dropped to the floor as shock overwhelmed me. He had to be kidding.

"So what do you say Kaddy want to work for us?" he pressed on.

I gulped back a lump of air that caught itself in front of my voice box, rendering me speechless. I didn't know whether to be gracious or fuming; especially now since I was being renamed Kaddy!

Daniel grasped my bewildered gape as he tried to ease me in to accept Ascot's offer.

Oh so it was him who set up this deal! I pursed my lips and snapped my head forwards. I couldn't believe it! He was so unhappy with his job he just thought he might as well share that misery with me, his daughter.

If I said no, Bill would take it as a personal offence and demote Daniel or, something even worse. If I said yes Daniel would, possibly, get a promotion, if that's even fathomable anymore. I scowled and pinched my nose. I really just had a spectacular father didn't I? This ultimatum they pushed into my hands gave me no choice.

"Well Mr. Ascot," I mumbled vexedly, staring at the table as if I was going to find the words to a well calculated response in the markings of the wood.

He tapped the desk with the tip of his gold pen to apprehend my attention, "Hon, call me Bill. Soon you'll be even calling me Uncle Bill," He burst into ruckus laughter.

With all my might I tried to tense the muscles around my lips to form a half smile, but the only thing I felt could pass my lips right now was bile. Uncle Bill? There's a slim chance of that happening. I took a deep breath in to calm my stomach and spoke, "Well, Uncle Bill," the term rolled off my tongue splayed, "I'm going to have to consider doing that, um, soon."

I cringed, did I really just say agree to working for him, much less use the term Uncle and his name together? All these years of complaining and bad mouthing were for nothing. I had finally succumbed to my biggest fear. Becoming officially apart of the company.

As if Bill had been holding it in the whole time I spoke my acceptance, he let out a dry relieved sigh, "Well now the weight is off my shoulder. You'll start in two weeks, it will be a month or so long. You will be flown first to small regions in the Romanian parts of the Carpathian Mountains, than by foot you'll be making your way up through the Ukraine than your backpacking will end in your departure spot Siberia, Russia. So bring your snow suit," he chortled with a cheesy wink and snappy finger point like a fifties show host.

This was the moment when I wanted to wake up from this hellish dream. Was I really about to go trekking through Eastern Europe at viciously high heights that could cause possible death from a lack of oxygen to the brain or from freezing for the Ascot family company! Either way this trip was not going to be enjoyable. I hate cold, I hate the Ascot Company, and I hate Daniel.

My moment of thought seemed to too long for Bob as he tried to nonchalantly lift his sleeve and check the time. Scrunching up his nose, he seemed unconvinced by what his silver Rolex watch was telling him, so he peered up at the large clock mounted on the opposite wall for absolution. "I don't mean to be rude, but I have a meeting in five minutes, so I'd better be on my way, but you're welcome to st-"

"Thanks, but no thanks," I interjected as I hastily pushed away from the lecturn. He shrugged and did the same with a little less celerity.

I violently jumped from my chair, glaring daggers at Daniel's stupid little mousy head the whole time. Bob Ascot, being as blissfully ignorant as he was, waved undauntedly despite the fact some of the blame rested on his shoulder. "See you folks later," he muttered as he straightened the already perfect pile of papers. That anal idiot, I thought maliciously.

With a puff of hypothetical smoke I stormed out of the room and down the hall. The four inch "Business Shoe's" I was forced to wear clicked and clacked down the antiquated cherry wood floors. Daniel should get used to the sound for it would be the only noise shared between him and I. If Daniel was willing to give me up to work for Bob Ascot so leniently, who wouldn't say he made me wear these awful excuse for footwear to appease some sick old man.

"Kadence," Daniel's meek voice unintentionally prodded and burst my bubble of thought.

"No!" I cut his ramblings off before they could even commence, "I will not talk to you now, nor ever." With the grace of an elephant I thudded away from him. Albeit I was in heels I could still move faster than any dimwitted father trailing behind their estranged daughter, on account of my many years of forced practice.

Daniel's rigid, sweaty hands clasped my shoulder, preventing me from any further motion. Did he not understand that when I say, "I will not speak to you now or ever," that it means right now? I closed my eyes and let out one big aggravated breath from my lungs.

Daniel's voice quivered as he spoke, "Kadence please, it was all in good reason."

I spun around with the brute force of a hurricane, "Are you deaf or something? Daniel, I would rather shoot myself in the foot than speak with you." I turned sharply and started pacing away again only to pause in a moment of reflection at my spoken blunder. I faced him again and corrected myself with no limitations to my frank tone, "No let me rephrase that, I would rather shoot you in the foot."

There was a brief moment of stillness as I observed Daniel's face churning. Most five year olds could come up with a comeback by now. God, I was his fifteen year old daughter I wasn't supposed to outsmart him.

He pointed his finger at me with the conviction of an ant about to be squished, "You-you know, I am your Dad. You can't speak to me this way, or-or call me Daniel."

I smiled, selfishly amused. Was that the best he could come up with? Play the, 'I'm your father card'. It didn't work for Anakin and Luke, it wasn't working for us.

"Wh-why are you smiling, it's not funny, it's true!" he stammered on to dead air for I had already made my way past him and into the elevator.

As I stepped into the surprisingly large space and regarded the buttons in front of me. Some went up, some went down, some called in for an emergency, and some closed the door. I grinned and without the slightest bit of hesitation jammed my thumb against the black button.

Abruptly the doors slid together with a resounding clash as the heavy metal collided. "Kadence, open this door right now! Kadence," Daniel screamed as he banged against the steel wall between us. Grinning I continued to press the lobby button. The elevator made a jerking noise before it commenced its descent. "No, Kadence, Kadence, please open the door, I really don't want to go down the stairs, Kadence," he pleaded pathetically.

What was it twenty one staircases he had to go down? Karma's not the friendliest of people I presume.

The calls of Daniel echoed down the shaft and into the elevator as beep by irritating beep I got closer and closer to the main floor. I could almost say I had butterflies in my stomach I was so excited to see his expression. A tingle shot up my spine in exuberance. What a day this'll be.

"Reaching Lobby," an electronic female voice stated as the hefty doors began to clear. Time seemed to be slowing down as I waited for it to open. One...two...three...why wasn't it moving? It may have been open fifteen inches at best.

I shook my head, "Oh screw it." I squeezed out the tiny space and out into the huge open room, but the jubilance didn't last too long, because in seconds flat I went face first into some man's gut.

"You hooligan get out where you belong," he groused pointing to the door with one fat finger.

I shot a knowing look up at the pig faced man. "Oh, oh," he stuttered uncontrollably, "S-s-sorry Miss. McGill, te-tell your father I say hello." His pasty skin flushed an ugly red as he toddled past me.

I couldn't get in trouble here. Being a McGill at this company gave you a power almost as great as being an Ascot.

I brushed my hands on my pinstripe business suit and regained my poise. He'd be coming down any time now, I had to beat him to my Mom, but still look proper.

People gave me queer looks as I kicked off my heels and ran through the lavish lobby adorned with granite floors and crystal chandeliers without any shoes. Proper was thrown out the window. "Hey Kadence!" a breathy voice shouted from behind me.

My back arched. Crap. With the legerity of a rusty knob I turned around to face an exhausted, pink faced Daniel. His hair was windswept and his black suit was unbuttoned. Clear tracks of sweat swept visibly from his hair line to his jaw.

"Kadence, come back here now!" he yelled after me.

It was a fight or flight situation. I just coincidently had the opportunity to chose flight while I was inside then fight when I was outside, thus giving me the perfect chance of winning.

I spun around on my heel and squished myself between briefcases and cappuccinos as I quickly got enveloped by a crowd of people. This gave me the break I needed to leave him in the dust.

When on the other side of the hoard I gripped the glass revolving door and pushed with all my might. I put so much effort into it I could feel the skin on the tips of my finger burning as the blood was pushed out of the veins. Then after a ninety degree rotation a rush of air blew over me and the affliction in my digits was alleviated. He was fighting on my turf now.

"Dad I can't believe you offered me up like that!" I howled, with a petty whimper proceeding soon after it.

My mom propped up her large sunglasses into her hair line and revealed her large doe eyes. "Like what? Are you okay hon?" she questioned gingerly as she wrapped her long arms around my neck and head.

He burst out the door with a defeated look pasted across his face. I had won. "You might as well have sold me to a brothel!" I hissed, catching the attention of some pedestrians.

"What have you done?" my Mom lamented, deplorably grimacing over at Daniel.

With the upsides of his fingers he swept the dew of sweat from his brow and attempted to explain, "It's nothing dear, she's just-"

"He sending me to Siberia Mom, he's making me work in Siberia," I cried, though these were nothing more than crocodile tears.

Her body language was affronted for a moment, but then eased up as she noticed this was the truth.

"Daniel what the hell, er," she concernedly dropped her look to my two little sisters that were clinging to my brother's leg, "Heck, do you think you're doing sending our daughter to Siberia."

My dad cradled his forehead in one hand. Was he going to defend his decision or cower like the mouse he was?

"Yeah Dad, are you going to even say anything? Why did you do that?"

"Daniel? You know this should have been a group decision," my mom chided gently only to have her pacifist suggestions overlooked in the heat of the argument.

Daniel looked at me with such a passionate hate one could think he was beholding in his eyes the very spawn of Satan. I smirked and snuggled into my mom's bosom, rubbing the satisfaction of my victory into his stupid little face.

"Oh sorry Katharina that you would rather stay in your room all day watching other people living their lives then actually having your own," he snapped ferociously.

He had struck the chord, which was that name, and he knew full well of its effects on me. Hate could not even describe my utmost detest for being called Katharina. It's not even spelt how it's pronounced. It's so inane, and pointless, and a volume of other awful terms.

I unlatched myself from my mother and menacingly stalked up to him, "Kadence, you may only call me Kadence, Daniel," I seethed with the venom that replaced my saliva.

He pointed at me with his jaw agape, "You see Emilee, I'm her father, but she still calls me Daniel. She fakes crying, she fakes it all, she's manipulative, she's cynical, she's-"

My forehead creased, "I think you can stop acting like you're seven now."

His eyes bulged. "Why don't you like me? What don't I have or give you?" he demanded gripping my shoulders. "I've bought you puppies, I've bought you designer purses, but you want none of it! What do you want?"

I bit the inner part of my lip to prevent from a witty little smirk to form. "Hmm, well what I want from you would not be for me," I spat blatantly

"What is it?" he demanded.

I grinned and flickered the thick, dark lashes that surrounded my doll like eyes and I stared into his, "A back bone," I said softly, "For you," I added with an underlying amusement to his dismay.

His whole person froze and reddened with the acrimony that must have thickened his blood.

Finally Emilee interjected before this fight got any worse. "You know what? I don't even care what this is about anymore. We can talk about this later, but I don't think you're the rest of us really want to be late for the tour."

Suddenly both Daniel and I broke off our glare and in unison asked, "Tour of what?"

Your mind could wander to the many destinations to be toured while in England, maybe a walk around Big Ben, a ghost walk, The Whitechapel murders history walk. All three, involving much walking, seemed like lovely alternatives.

My mom's smile quivered hesitantly for a moment. Why was it that this small gesture caused my stomach to flop apprehensively?

"The Ascot Family Estate," she mumbled anxiously.

As if we hadn't already had enough of Bill Ascot. For the love of god he was the bane of all of our existences, but now we had to see his ancestry. Joy.

Thank you kindly for reading. I apoligize for my tangents of shear nonesense before hand, I will try to cut down on them in the future. The next chapter could come out anytime from early this morning to next week. Fare the well.