Hey… I have the worst case of writer's block known to mankind… so I'm just going to do a quick Talice oneshot, to try to shake it off. And for all the people who rightfully thought that I disappeared off the face of the Earth, I'm back.
Alice J. Nightshade Prompted: Welcome to mystery.
It was Tarrant's first time Topside. Alice had told Tarrant all about it on her visits, saying that it was, "Terribly gray and dreary on the outside, but there are a few places that, when you really look, burst with color!"
One time when Alice visited, Tarrant had asked to visit Above. Alice didn't want him to, saying that, "It just sucked the color out of everything." The two had spent hours arguing (well, not arguing exactly, as Tarrant would say. More like… scatting) about it.
Finally, Alice gave in. On her next visit, she would come early in the morning and take Tarrant on a day-long tour of London.
"Tarrant! We don't know how much time has passed Topside! It could be nightfall by the time you're ready!" Alice shouted.
Just then, Tarrant came out the front door of his home in Witzend. He had made a suit out of dreary gray fabric that would fit in perfectly in London. Granted, he would still get odd looks because of his bright orange hair or ghost white complexion, but not nearly as many as if he was in his normal attire.
Alice smiled. They walked back into the house, heading towards the living room.
Alice had been traveling by looking glass to get to Underland, to save the time of falling down the rabbit hole or drinking Jabberwocky Blood. There was a nice large one in Tarrant's home that Alice preferred to use.
When they entered the room, the furniture greeted them (Alice had been quite shocked by this the first time she came into Tarrant's house, but he quieted her by explaining that "it was a living room, wasn't it?")
"Come on. You know how you travel by looking glass, I assume?" Alice asked.
"Yes."
"Well than let's go!"
They stepped through the glass and into Alice's bedroom, where there was a looking glass similar to the one in Tarrant's home.
Tarrant looked around, curious. "Is this your home, Alice?"
"Yes, this is my bedroom."
Tarrant blushed. So this was her bedroom. "It's so… dreary."
And it was. The walls were a plain dull gray-blue, with white curtains covering the windows. The four poster bed was made of dark, polished wood and the blankets and pillows were white to match the curtains. The floor, desk, and wardrobe were made of the same dark wood as the bed.
Tarrant looked at Alice. "Truly you must be kidding me. This room is so dreary and dull and boring, not like you at all!"
"I know," Alice replied, "I had to beg my mother to get it to even this. She wanted the walls to be white and the wood to be lighter." This combination would have made the entire room almost the exact same color.
"Horrid. Terrible. Awful. Totally and utterly un-Alice."
Alice let out a small giggle at this comment. "Speaking of my mother, we must get you out of this house unseen by her or any of the staff."
Tarrant was confused. Why did she not want him to meet her mother? Was she embarrassed by him? Is that the reason she hadn't wanted him to go Above in the first place?
Alice saw Tarrant's eyes changing from their usual lime green to the light gray-blue of curiosity, then to a stormy dark gray of fear and regret. "Tarrant. I am not embarrassed by you and I want you here. I just think that my mother needs to be eased into the thought of Underland, instead of the Mad Hatter showing up for some tea. I haven't told her anything yet."
Tarrant visibly relaxed, and his eyes changed back to their normal green. Alice smiled at him (at him, not anyone else!) and took his hand (his hand!). As she started to lead him to the door of the room, his voices took over his thoughts.
Look at how small her hand is. It fits so well in yours, the good voice said.
She doesn't want anything to do with you, you filthy man. She's Alice, retorted the bad voice.
But she is holding his hand, the good voice responded.
She is leading him out of the room, the bad voice explained harshly.
She said that she wanted him here.
Out of pity.
She said she wasn't embarrassed by him.
Of course she is! Look at her cheeks, all red.
Maybe it is from holding his hand. Maybe she is happy to be doing so.
Tarrant quieted the voices as Alice led him down the front stairs and outside. Even the sky looked dreary and gray. But then Tarrant spotted something out of the corner of his eye.
"Alice, what's beck there?" he asked, pointing to the side of the house.
"The gardens are on the sides and in the back of the house. They're really-" she was cut off by Tarrant grabbing her hand, which she had let go of when they got outside, and running to the side of the house.
The gardens were mostly ordinary flowers in organized rows. But there was one section of the garden, off to the side, that was Alice's. Her mother (after hours of begging) had given Alice a small section of the garden to do with as she wished.
Alice had not wasted one bit of space. She had planted flowers of vibrant colors, shapes, and sizes all over. At first glance, it appeared to be a mish-mash of color that did not go. But upon closer examination, one discovers that Alice had made the garden's various colors and shapes go together in the way an exotic rainbow would. And, in the middle, she had placed a small white bench that seemed to tie the entire garden together.
Tarrant looked around, amazed. "Alice, what is this?" he asked in awe.
She looked at him, smiled, and said simply, "Welcome to mystery."
Whoo! Okay. That was cool. I love it when you have a story planned out, then you just kinda go off track and do something completely different.
Remember to review! I want to hear what you think of this oneshot, and I can never get enough prompts! Remember, short, sweet, and make no sense!
~SJ