dear Mr. Carroll,

if i or she should chance to be involved in this affair, he trusts to you to set them free, exactly as we were independent Hatter based on the immersive theatre piece Then She Fell tracking agoodnightforghosts var sc_project=10471972; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="1889ac56"; var scJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://secure." : "http://www."); document.write("");

[agoodnightforghosts]

iwillprxvail

❝ TELL me, why is it that i’ve never   the slightest idea of WHAT you’re   blabbering    about    ? ❞

granted, she did not always LISTEN to her prisoners, but even when she DID try to make sense of some of the ridiculousness that erupted from the rabbit’s mouth without RESTRAINT, she hardly understood.

     but never mind that–

          she was all DONE with fun and games.

❝ alright, henrietta— i won’t KILL you.   you can come back down now. i won’t   DE-BRAIN you either. morris would   NOTICE, don’t you think ?

      it’s time to return HOME. ❞

❝ oh, MOST people don’t. ❞ 

and henrietta liked it that way, actually—-she enjoyed the looks of vacant, slightly terrified  BEFUDDLEMENT people tended to develop after even a brief time in her presence.

   although of course, most     people did not try to MURDER    her for it.

❝ he certainly would !!

        -—but HOW do you intend         to prove that i can trust you ? ❞

this sudden turnaround didn’t  exactly inspire TRUST, after all—-- too abrupt, to convenient.i

[ichoselooks]

          ❝ Of course a cat can’t look like a tree!              This would be alarming. A cat can look              like another cat, though, and maybe that              other cat is male while the first cat was              female. Besides, if the cat looked like a              tree, you wouldn’t think it could be a cat. ❞ So she was even confusing herself, but this was not a fight she was going to loose. Tenacity had always been one of her greatest qualities, even for the stupidest of things. After all, Mrs Wormwood enjoyed winning (even more than she enjoyed seeing others lose). Winning was being the centre of the attention and bringing home a big, bright, great trophy. It would only be a metaphorical one in this case, but still the perspective of being able to brag about her own victory was highly enticing. The problem, she realized, was that she had no one to brag to except her children.                                  Nevermind.                                                       Keep talking until you win.           ❝ Things should look like what they aspire to                be. This is why I wear skirts and heels, and               why my hair looks so good. In your case,               though, you don’t look very much like a               woman, even if it is what you are. And               marriage isn’t mimsy, it’s marriage. If               you’d ever made the efforts to be in one,               you’d know multiples aren’t really an issue. ❞ At least, it had never been in her marriage, where both Harry and her had been faithful to each other (as far as she knew), and this was really the only thing that mattered to the fake blonde.           ❝ Of course you don’t believe marriages                 have anything to do with that. You’ve                never been married. Which, unsurprisingly,                is exactly because of your terrible habits. ❞ The further comment on Wonderland’s fashion was received with a dismissive huff, as if it completely proved Zinnia right.           ❝ Please.                           You enjoy wearing trousers. ❞

[agoodnightforghosts]

       ❝ A passing superficial resemblance between           two cats who may possibly be of different            genders is NOT the same thing as a female           cat looking, generally, anything other than            female. In the former case, the male cat           still looks male and the female cat still looks           female—unless you ALSO want to suggest           that resemblances between, say, siblings           of different genders mean that girls with           brothers must always look ‘male’ or           something equally RIDICULOUS. ❞

It was quite a speech, delivered at top speed and all in one breath; Henrietta was annoyed now, frustrated and impatient and grumpily defensive, and she was determined to just— speak the other woman into submission. She drew a deep  breath to sustain herself for the next round.

         ❝ Skirts and heels aren’t an intrinsic part of             womanhood (nor is hair, good or otherwise?             most people have hair, regardless of gender!)             anymore than trousers are only for men—             anybody can wear anything they like, and it             doesn’t do a thing to their gender. That would             be absurd, and lead to chaos and probably a             lot of CRYING at records offices where people             keep track of populations and demographics             and the like. Even Wonderland knows better             than to invite such illogic into the world! ❞

She felt better for having said her piece, and offered the other woman a condescending smile as the subject turned back to marriage.

        ❝ If you want to limit yourself that way, far            be it from me to stop you. But I’ve never            been married because I don’t want to be            married, not for lack of options. ❞

[everybodyriise-blog]

“I can certainly see where you’re coming from,” she admitted. Partly because she did sometimes like things which bubbled or stank and partly because… well you had to consider your source. If she had to choose someone to embody purity and cleanliness it would have been literally anyone besides Henrietta. The woman wasn’t dirty exactly but there was a constant sense of chaos surrounding her, and the feeling that things would be left unfinished simply because they had failed to be interesting anymore. “It’s just that I have an image to maintain, and I can’t go around with byproducts spilled all over myself — or worse, wearing a smock.” What that image was, she’d long ago lost track, but she knew that she was maintaining it better than anyone else she knew.

“And maybe that’s true for most people, but my thumb is as black as my wardrobe so they’d probably behave worse if they knew me.” She twisted her mouth wryly. “Unless you have a potion to help me out with that, I think I’m better off sticking to what I know.”

[agoodnightforghosts]

“I’m glad you at least have some sense,” Henrietta said with an approving grin. There was, in her view, no point to crafting a cure or a poison or anything if you couldn’t get it under your fingernails, so to speak. (Although getting the ingredients for most poisons actually under your fingernails was something she couldn’t in good conscience recommend.) 

“But it’s not about spilling things on yourself—or smocks, I never wear smocks!—it’s not very good potionmaking if you’re slopping over the edges of the pot or whatever. The mess has to be controlled, or else you’re just wasting material for no reason. There’s an order to the messiness, see, it makes the final product stronger.” That was the theory, anyway—it might also just lead to explosions, not that Henrietta minded much when that happened.

She offered Joanne a sympathetic (if not a little patronizing) simper. “No such thing—plants die from neglect and disuse and disease, not from bad luck. You could tend them properly if you bothered to learn how.”

[magicicn-blog]

the hatter paced, brows furrowed in deep thought. no. no, the machine was not an OPTION either. henrietta was better off dead anyway. morris wouldn’t like it much if the rabbit had her brains turned into tapioca.

❝ hmm, maybe i can cut off your feet, ❞ she muttered thoughtfully, somewhat absentminded as she circled the tree. painful enough, but not punishment enough. no, the rabbit needed to learn RESPECT.

when she heard NEGOTIATION, though, she stopped and looked up, utterly shocked that even in the face of death, anyone could be so reckless.

❝ i’m not open to ANYTHING. you are my   prisoner and i’m trying to figure out what to   do with you. DON’T make me change my mind. ❞

[agoodnightforghosts]

this high up in the tree, and with the hatter DISTRACTED on the ground,  henrietta saw no reason to refrain from rolling her eyes. yes, yes,  rabbits had LUCKY FEET, and somehow  cutting them off was supposed to prove this—

     ( never MIND that a rabbit with        no feet was an unlucky rabbit        indeed—those lucky feet were        a curse, not a blessing. )

❝ iiiiiii don’t think i’m your PRISONER.    not properly. you couldn’t catch me—    and i’ve an escape route.

          your PRISONS are far better           designed than that. ergo... ❞

[agoodnightforghosts]

mmkay friends i am back from my unannounced and unintentional hiatus, i think. be advised that if you are not iwillprxvail, everybodyriise, or ichoselooks and we have a long (3+ paragraphs) thread going on i’ll be dropping it. also there will probably be some spring (fall?) cleaning going on because this blog is becoming Stressful, hence the vanishing.

yeah.

[chippedbravery]

Belle obviously knew her daughter better than anyone else, but that wasn´t a thing that had to be discussed, especially since the other woman had agreed to that fact. “I like that children are straight forward though, they don´t sugarcoat things, they just tell the truth and sometimes that´s what you need to hear. Grown ups just try to weasel their way around things sometimes when all that´s needed is some honesty,”

[agoodnightforghosts]

“Honesty is overrated and leads only to trouble nine times out of ten. Proven fact.” She sniffed. “Moving in straight lines like that is bad for the health—much more sanitary to keep yourself tangled up in twisted webs of half-truths and not-quite-lies. At least that way there’s always an escape route or three. ...Although I am not a weasel. I’m a rabbit, thank you.”

[agoodnightforghosts]

mindbehindblonde:

“That’s legalbabble half-translated.” She huffed, her frustration directed mostly at herself but ever (and in this case easily) spreading. “What if it was you? Would you actually care in which way you were being misleaded? Or would you be just as hurt either way? I know I would…!”

“No—it’s good sense.” A condescending sniff punctuated the words; it was hardly Henrietta’s fault if the younger woman didn’t have the means to follow her logic. “As for the question of if it were me—well, for one thing, I’d never be fooled by incorrect facts. The passivity of misinformation leaves far too much room for the inconsistencies to shine through—whereas lying is more difficult to detect.”

[agoodnightforghosts]

house call | {iwillalwaysdomybest}

[agoodnightforghosts]

iwillalwaysdomybest:

“Alright,” he agreed, nodding slightly. He understood having messy handwriting. He wouldn’t quite call his own illegible, but it was pretty close, due to needing to write quickly. It was a habit doctors had, and being a psychiatrist, he shared in the somewhat messy handwriting. “Well, I’ll certainly keep an eye out for them. But perhaps a search would not be the most effective way to find them. If I see any, I’ll let you know, but otherwise … I don’t know that searching all throughout Storybrooke will get us anywhere.” He hoped she saw the truth in his assessment. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind though, she hadn’t seemed too keen on him helping her in the first place.

“Or, perhaps we could multitask. We could meet at different places to relax and get to know each other a bit better, while also keeping an eye out of your journals.” To him, that sounded like the best solution. They wouldn’t be wasting time, but they still had a better chance of finding her journals than if they did nothing to find them.

“There were others,” Henrietta said unhappily. “A disgraced White Rabbit—two deposed queens, one red and one white—and altogether too many ghosts.” And the ward staff, of course, although Henrietta had not dealt with them much other than to bully them into letting her set up shop in the empty room behind the front office. The other inmates, however—she knew she’d told them some things about her journals before the memory had slipped out of her head. “They might know more.”

And she’d like to find them again regardless. Well, not the ghosts, but the other three—that would be nice.

She gave a helpless little shrug and dipped her chin, acquiescing to Archie’s proposal. Chopping up the search into manageable pieces and social engagement did make it seem incrementally less impossible. “I would—not be opposed to that.” 

[agoodnightforghosts]

teaandcards:

She chuckled a little at her reaction, “Great! Thank you! I appreciate the help.” Alice smiled softly, running a hand through her hair. She was really confused about who this woman was, she was strange but interesting. “I don’t think I caught your name. My name is Alice.”

“Oh, but what’s in a name?” she asked, glancing back to smirk at Alice briefly. “Yours tells me next to nothing about you—other than that perhaps you might take after certain  g h o s t s  whose acquaintance I am unfortunate to have, although one would hope that isn’t the case—and mine would tell you very little about me.” She swung around a sharp corner and into a narrow alleyway between two decrepit buildings, and added, “It’s Henrietta.”

[agoodnightforghosts]

everybodyriise:

“Well I can’t say I’m too fond of making potions, myself. It’s too much work for not a whole bunch of reward. And it’s messy.” She didn’t care too much about the last point, but black clothing was hard to keep clean and it could get expensive to look as good as she did in such a monochrome way. “As for growing those herbs — let’s just say you’re better than me in quite a few areas.” At least she still had the smoke from her cigarettes to keep her lungs company, and she took a drag now.

“The mess is half the fun.” With another good chunk being made up of the interesting chemical reactions when things went wrong. Henrietta enjoyed the chaos, and the burning smell. “Oh! And the fumes. And, well, you know, if you grew your own ingredients you’d have an easier time of it with the potions? It’s not like normal chemistry—plants remember when you’ve tended to them, and they behave better when they know who you are.” 

That was empirical fact, actually, at least where plants with magical properties were concerned—the effect was incremental and probably only noticeable to someone who made potions for a living, but CEDAR had found evidence that it really existed a few years back.

[mayahan]

[agoodnightforghosts]

mayahan:

Watercolor Bunnies by Oxana Fomina

[agoodnightforghosts]

chippedbravery:

“I´m sorry,” Belle said as she looked over at the other woman before returning her attention to her sleeping child. Of course she was well aware that neither of them were perfect, though she did love her daughter and she was perfect in her own way. “I don´t think anyone is perfect, but she comes very close to it,” she then added. “Without being boring, because she´s not boring at all.”

Following the woman’s gaze to the sleeping spawn didn’t do much to convince Henrietta of the little thing’s perfection, near or otherwise, but Henrietta only shrugged. “Well. If you say so; I suppose you do know her better than I.” She grinned. “Although I’ve always found children more difficult to learn than the average adult. All those open doors in the mind, you know, waiting to be closed by the trials of growing up. It makes them unpredictable. ...Hence the metaphorical drunken meltdowns.”

[agoodnightforghosts]

iwillprxvail:

the hatter’s trembling hands were under control and she stopped pacing and trying to hit the tree, head tilting to the side s l o w l y. henrietta had a death warrant signed, but now that she was REALLY thinking– no. she couldn’t do that to morris. 

he’d raised the little rabbit, basically, and would no doubt be miserable if any harm came to any of those annoying o r a n g e curls. hell, he’d be upset if the little thing disappeared. 

she just had to find a way to PROPERLY punishing it without taking her way from morris… !!

❝ …consider yourself lucky, ❞ she replied grimly, looking down at her skirt.

❝ i. may reconsider. the alternatives aren’t much BETTER… ❞

henrietta felt a brief flash of triumph at the thoughtful expression that appeared on the  hatter’s face now; perhaps the things henrietta had REMINDED her about morris had sunk in, however belatedly.

at any rate, she was never one to miss an opportunity that presented itself so nicely.

❝ i AM very lucky, ❞ she said, as solemnly as she could manage. ❝ my kind often are. well known for it. hunted for it, in fact, sometimes. ❞

     ( only she’d been trying to AVOID giving        the hatter ideas. oops. )

❝ the alternatives being that lovely MACHINE     of yours ?  hm. yes. well. ❞

not much better indeed.

❝ how open are you to NEGOTIATION ?? ❞

[kcnsingtcn-archive-blog]

[agoodnightforghosts]

justpartoftheplan:

hello friends i need money

to make a long story short, my main (read: currently only) source of income is gone as of a couple days ago and my parents have made it clear they don’t give a shit if they die on account of not having any money because i am unemployed and as far as they’re concerned that makes me Worthless Scum. aaaand i’ve got rent and bills to pay and would kind of like to still be able to afford food afterwards.

[ @ anybody currently thinking ‘but why don’t you just get a job’ : i’m   trying, man. i’m trying. in the mean time i would like to continue being       able to eat and have a safe place to live, yanno? ]

which brings us to: pay me money and i’ll make you pretty pictures.

what you can get // pricing

::: NOTE THAT LIST PRICES DO NOT INCLUDE PAYPAL FEES :::

the final price for any commission will include paypal invoice fees. the list price is the amount of money that goes to me. you’ll also be paying the small (as in, usually like a dollar or less) fee paypal charges per invoice in addition to that.

if you want to calculate what your final price will be before talking to me, use this calculator and take the number on the right.

for a single subject piece of art, prices are as follows:

ROUGH SKETCHES  ::  2 USD

quick scribbly stuff as in the far left example of my lovely banner. additional examples available here:

one | two | three | four

CLEANED SKETCHES // ROUGH LINE ART :: 5 USD

neater sketches/line work with remaining hints of scribbly stuff. amount of remaining scribbly stuff is up to your preference, although the price remains the same regardless. other examples:

one | two | three

FLAT SHADING // FLAT COLOR :: 10 USD

the center right example in my banner is greyscale, but you can get flat color for the same price. neatness of the line work is, again, your preference but priced the same. other examples:

one | two 

FULL COLOR :: 15 USD

 and finally there’s this option. style of coloring is up to you within reason. if you want something extremely detailed and/or otherwise time consuming, the price may get bumped up accordingly (i’m trying to pay myself close to a living wage, here). other examples:

one | two | three | four | five

ADDITIONAL SUBJECTS ::

SKETCH OR LINE WORK :: 5 USD PER EXTRA SUBJECT

FLAT SHADING OR FULL COLOR :: 10 USD PER EXTRA SUBJECT

for example, something like this would have a base price of 45 USD [15$ for the image and first subject + 30$ for the three extra bodies]+ the invoice fee and come to a total of 46.65 USD.

BACKGROUNDS :: 15+ USD 

abstract/gradient/texture backgrounds will come at no additional cost. however, if you want an actual full background, the price will depend heavily on level of detail. assume 15 USD at minimum.

how to contact // how to pay

i take commission requests by email. if you come to my ask looking for a commission i’m… just going to tell you what my email is, so may as well cut out that extra step for both of us, yeah? have a good description ready. reference pictures are a huge plus. 

payments are due up front. once we’ve agreed on price and what you’ll be getting, i’ll send you an invoice. once you have paid me, i’ll begin working on your commission; i’ll also keep in touch with you throughout the process, including sending you in-progress images so you can tweak things to your satisfaction if need be.

deliveries will also be made by email in the form of a full sized PNG and TIFF file. if you want the image in PSD format, i can do that on request.

you’re welcome to use my art in any way you like (i.e. as a background image/header/sidebar/whatever) or post it on tumblr or elsewhere as long as 1. you do not edit it, and 2. you credit me with a link back to this post.

finally, if you’d like to help but don’t have the ability to commission, i’d really appreciate it if you reblogged this.

[agoodnightforghosts]

chippedbravery

“We´ll see about that.” Of course Belle was aware that things wouldn´t always be easy, but she had chosen to stay positive and she would be able to deal with whatever came their way. Having a child was an adventure and she would have to deal with quite a few things, but it would probably be nothing compared to the things she had been through already.

“There’s no need to get so snippy about it.” Henrietta sniffed. She’d only been trying to offer advice—and as a Wonderlander she did know a thing or two about the foibles of children even if she didn’t have any of their own. “Your child isn’t perfect anymore than anyone else is; I should think you’d be grateful for that. Perfection would be boring.”

[agoodnightforghosts]

iwillprxvail

She did not entirely make sense of that statement, but it seemed to her that she’d just been called a child. Anger flared through her, flushing her carefully made up face and she clasped her hands together, setting her elbows on her table, and nose wrinkling in distaste. She couldn’t argue against an Adult. She simply couldn’t. And she knew that. She instead shot a nasty glare at John– Henrietta, whatever–and sniffed, tossing a perfect curl over her shoulder.

Mrs. Atwood, despite teaching a horribly messy subject, was someone who Maddie appreciated. Maybe it was because Mrs. Atwood saw right through her act– and still liked her. It made Maddie a little frightened, honestly, because she didn’t know just how much she could trust the woman, but some days, she almost felt like she could confide–

but on other days, the woman was so blatantly a Democrat, and Maddie was out.

She had zero interest in this abstract nonsense anyway. She liked structure and she liked wonder, but none of this mess. She wanted to learn actually helpful things. And people like Henrietta, who got nowhere in life, stemmed from the fact that they referred rubbing inky sticky fingers over pieces of paper. Humm. Maybe she’d ask Mrs. Atwood for an alternate assignment. She refused to have her hands ruined anyway. She pointedly looked away,knowing that looking at Henrietta would only bring about more anger on her part. And sometimes, she just couldn’t control her jabs at everyone.

Still, she sought revenge now. Perhaps, at lunch break, she would set her group of friends on Henrietta,to chase her and track her down to rip a few curls out as well as hold her hostage while Maddie delivered a few well-aimed comments.

Tearing people down was what she longed for every second of the day. It was so annoying that Henrietta was so difficult to break.

“I’m!! Never upset!!” she assured Mrs. Atwood with a wide grin. This was true, sort of; Henrietta did feel upset sometimes (often), but she’d learned that there were few problems so big you couldn’t just chatter at them until they gave up and slunk away to bother someone less talkative and clever. Clean-cut girls who thought they were so smart were no exception.

Henrietta beamed in response to Maddie’s death glare. She didn’t think much of the other girl’s—well, anything, not her perfect (and fake) curls or her crisp clothes or her inability to use the correct name for things—and she enjoyed the satisfaction of having a teacher on her side for once. So she stuck out her tongue for a half-second and then returned to doodling on her tabletop.

(Interlocked triangles of all sorts, for spite.)

Although she did frown in concentration over Mrs. Atwood’s description of the assignment. It seemed a bit nonsensical to Henrietta, trying to tell a story that no one would be able to recognize. Stories had to be recognizable, even the ones that didn’t make very much sense, or what was the point?? Even if you were telling it through the medium of abstract art, even a completely blank page was certain to strike some chord.

So she squinted up at Mrs. Atwood, not quite convinced, but willing to assume for the moment that further explanation was coming which would clear up her confusion.

[valentinechopine]