#*character: alice

[reinvent--yourself]

femslash february is here!!

i don't know how great i'll be at consistently making graphics and/or writing things for femslash february but at least i'm only a day late in starting it, right? right? 

[like-aheartgrenade]

once upon a time, there was a princess and a pirate.

[like-aheartgrenade]

no-one's coming to take me home.

[reinvent--yourself]

And truth be told, I never was yours x.

[reinvent--yourself]

“Can you see me!? …You can, can’t you? Please! Don’t let them take out the plugs! Tell them I’m still here!”

Alice has always seen things, things that most people would scoff at in disbelief. And even she can scarcely believe it herself when one day, in the middle of working a shift at the Royal London Hospital, she stumbles upon a girl screaming in the middle of a crowded hallway while being completely ignored. The girl (Wendy, she learns) leads Alice back to a room, and Alice is astonished to discover that there is a second Wendy, only she is clad in a hospital gown and lying motionless in a bed.

Wendy has just been declared brain-dead, on account of a freak accident involving her best friend, a double dog dare, far too much underage drinking, and the insane desire to fly above the rooftops of London. Mr Darling, her father, is silent as he stares down at his daughter, while Mrs Darling quietly asks whether there really isn’t any hope.

Six months. The hospital is willing to give the Darlings six months to wait and pray and inevitably come to terms with their daughter’s passing before they pull the girl off life support. Wendy sobs as she stands in front of her two younger brothers, willing them to see her.

The next six months are the hardest, but funnily enough, also the happiest of Alice’s life. She sees Wendy at the hospital every day, and the girl quickly becomes Alice’s shadow at work. She has a knack for telling stories, Alice learns, and though the ward for coma patients is as silent as the grave to everyone else, to Alice’s ears it is filled with chatter.

Ironically enough, through befriending someone dead Alice begins to feel more alive than she ever has before. She doesn’t know whether it is a blessing or a curse to have met Wendy, although, as it nears the end, it feels very much like the latter.

During one of the final days, she asks Wendy if she is scared.

“You know, Alice, I think if you had asked me that question six months ago, I most definitely would have said yes. But, you see, the waiting’s the worst part of it all. Hovering between life and death, watching as everyone else moves on. …Besides, I have a friend already waiting for me on the other side, and he once told me that Death is the next greatest adventure.”

[like-aheartgrenade]

we faded faster than the speed of light.

[reinvent--yourself]

nine in the afternoon | wendalice

i.

Wendy was in the attic helping her mother tidy up when she happened across the dress. She’d flung open a chest in order to put away a pile of old records lying around, and there it was. Lacy, slightly off-white. She recognised it instantly from the large photo hanging in the stairwell, her mother beautiful and radiant as she smiled at the camera. She pulled it out gently before holding it up to her body. It was far too big for her, of course, at the age of nine years old. Mrs Darling, seeing this, walked over to address her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Your grandmother made it for me. She was such a talented seamstress; look at the detail in the bodice and the hemming.” Wendy brushed her hand gently and reverentially along the length of the dress, letting the fabric slip and slide between her fingers. “It is beautiful.”

“You might wear this on your own wedding day, Wendy. Only if you wanted to, of course.” The girl looked up at her mother, a little startled, before looking away. She tried to imagine what her wedding ceremony would look like; lots of flowers, certainly. Perhaps they’d even hold it outdoors. Not too big a gathering; Father tearing up as he passed her arm to another. But when she tried to conjure up an image of her future spouse, nothing but a fuzzy outline came to mind.

ii.

A few days later found Wendy still pondering the idea of marriage. She found it hard to concentrate on the book before her, instead thinking of bridesmaids’ dresses and dancing. As she read the line on the page before her for the sixth time, something collided with the side of her head and sent her reeling.

“…Oops. Wendy, you really shouldn’t sit there. That was bound to happen sooner or later.” Wendy gave John a light scowl before standing up, tucking the book underneath her arm, and walking away without a word. The boy turned to shrug at Thomas, before picking the ball up and continuing the game. Boys were so insensitive.

After running into her house quickly to put away her book, Wendy contemplated what she should do for the rest of her afternoon. Calling on Peter was, sadly, out of the question; they’d had a row the other day over Peter spending far more time lately with Lily (nicknamed Tiger by the Lost Boys) than Wendy. Wendy knew she was being foolish, but she couldn’t help it; jealousy was definitely her worst trait. After coming to a decision, she headed out into the garden and straight for a neatly trimmed row of hedges that posed as the boundary between the Darlings’ property and that of their neighbours’. Locating a small gap close to the ground, Wendy lowered herself before shimmying through. Dirt caked itself onto the knees of her stockings, and once on the other side she reached down to brush the worst of it away.

Casting her gaze around, she found who she was looking for lying in a patch of daisies, facing up to the sky. One of Alice’s legs was hooked over the other, and she bobbed her foot in time to the tune she was humming. A pair of shoes and stockings lay in a muddle off to the side; it really was a rather hot day, and Wendy hastened to take her own off before sitting down beside her friend.

“What do you think happens to a flame when it’s blown out? Does it go somewhere, or simply flicker in and out of existence?” was the greeting, and Wendy smiled.

Two hours later, and Alice and Wendy had almost exhausted every detail there was to discuss on the topic of unicorns. Alice had fallen silent, which left Wendy to her own thoughts. A thought hit her, quite out of the blue.

“I think I’d like to get married to you.” Wendy’s eyes widened as she realised what she’d said, but fortunately, Alice didn’t seem as though she was paying much attention. She seemed entirely engrossed in her conversation with the poppies.

It made sense though. Out of all the people Wendy knew, Alice was her favourite. She would spend all of her time with her if it was possible. And isn’t that what marriage was about? Promising to someone that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them?

iii.

“Mother, does it have to be a boy and a girl? Can’t two girls get married?”

Mrs Darling, startled at the unexpected question, fumbled with the earring she had been putting in. She picked it up from where it landed on top of her vanity table before addressing Wendy’s reflection in the mirror. “Wendy dear, you’re a bit too young to be worrying about that sort of thing, I think. Wherever did that question come from?”

The girl bit her lip and looked down at her shoes, not sure how to answer. Mrs Darling, noting the nervousness radiating off of her daughter, turned and bent down to look Wendy in the eyes. “I believe that you should marry whomever you love. As long as they’re the right person, it doesn’t matter if they’re a man or a woman.” She grasped Wendy’s shoulders to give her a reassuring squeeze.

Wendy brightened immediately. She gave Mrs Darling a quick hug before rushing out of the room. Mrs Darling straightened, and sighed. It wasn’t that she’d lied to Wendy, per se. She really did believe that people should be allowed to marry whoever they liked. The problem was that not everybody agreed with her. But it didn’t sit well with her to expose Wendy to that sort of injustice. Not yet.

iv.

It was decided then. She would ask for Alice’s hand in marriage and they’d live happily ever after for the rest of their days.

Wendy crawled through the hedges the next day with great purpose and determination. This time, she spotted Alice sitting in the boughs of her favourite tree, having made no attempt to open the history book lying upon her stomach.

As Wendy walked over to her, she was suddenly struck by a wave of anxiety. She knew she wanted to marry Alice, that was all well and good, but what if Alice didn’t feel the same about her? Or what if Alice thought two girls getting married would be too odd? When she reached the bottom of the tree, Wendy found that the words were stuck in her throat. It’d be devastating to hear a “no” from Alice, but she was already here, she had already made her mind up.

“Alice, could you come down for a bit? I have something to ask you.” Alice obligingly swung round and leapt off, landing with all the grace of a small cat. “What is it, Wendy?”

Wendy opened and closed her mouth for several seconds, nerves completely frayed. “I… you… w-would you like t-to marry me, Alice?” She closed her eyes in apprehension, afraid of the response.

“We can’t.”

At those words, it seemed as though a black hole suddenly formed beneath her; she felt herself falling in, her fingers scrabbling at clumps of grass and dirt which provided absolutely no purchase. She looked at Alice, a look of pure dismay on her face. “But… why?”

Alice crossed her arms and replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “You haven’t got a ring, Wendy. If you’re to propose to me, the proper thing to do is to present me with a ring.” That was her objection? Wendy gave a soundless laugh, relief escaping her in a short burst. A ring, she could probably manage that. “…Wait here.”

Wendy crawled back under the hedge and ran as fast as she could up to her room. There, she looked around for her sewing basket. There it was, in the corner. She opened it, took what she needed, before rushing straight out again. It was a little unusual, but hopefully Alice wouldn’t mind.

Alice was indeed still waiting under the tree when she got back. Wendy was a little out of breath as she opened the palm of her hand, revealing a blue ribbon tied into a circle. “Sorry, it’s not a proper ring, I know, but it’s all I had.”

The other girl just smiled. “That’s fine. Here, I’ve got something for you too.” She presented Wendy with a single daisy, the end of the stem tied neatly under the head. They exchanged “rings” and put them on, admiring them for a little while.

Wendy broke the silence first. “Do you think we should have a ceremony?”

“I think that would be lovely.”

v.

When they heard that the girls wanted to get married, Jane, John and Thomas had all taken it in their stride. Jane had immediately volunteered to be maid of honour, and Thomas offered himself up as best man before asking, “Hang on, who’s the bride and who’s the groom?”

John snorted. “Does it matter? It’s not a real wedding.” At this, Wendy fixed John with the most withering stare she could manage, and was proud to note that he actually shuddered.

With the number of “wedding guests” in attendance they found that they would have to hold the ceremony outside, behind the Liddells’ house. John and Michael, both too young to really understand what was going on, simply smiled broadly where they sat at the front of the “Darling” side of the ceremony. Peter and the Lost Boys were also present, Peter having been tasked with the role of ring bearer.

Alice’s older sister, Lorina, had been asked to officiate at the ceremony, and she had taken her role very seriously. The book she held in her hands had been borrowed from the local library and contained all the lines that needed to be said at the ceremony.

In the end, it had been decided that, since they were both girls, they would both be the bride. Alice walked down the aisle first, her arm hooked into John’s, with Wendy and Thomas following soon after. The ceremony proceeded remarkably like most wedding ceremonies did for having been performed by a group of under-twelves’.

The vows were a bit difficult, for Wendy at least. She hadn’t put much thought into the whole thing besides Do I want to marry Alice? and Yes, I want to marry Alice, but somehow, she managed.

When Lorina finally began to say the words, “You may kiss the bride”, Wendy was struck dumb as she tried to decide on what part of Alice’s face to place her lips. The decision was made for her, though, as Alice quickly dove in. Wendy had absolutely no idea what she was doing, and put most of her effort towards making sure her nose didn’t bump Alice’s too much, but all in all, it was nice. She didn’t have too much time to enjoy it though, as a bright flash startled the two of them into separating.

“Gross, I hope you guys didn’t use your tongues,” Thomas said as he inspected the photo he’d taken.

vi.

“Wendy dear, would you mind passing the bis-”

“That’s Mrs Wendy Liddell to you, father!” John said, before giggling into his tea. Mr Darling gave first John then Wendy a confused glance. “What?”

Wendy slumped in her chair, embarrassed but also far too happy to really care.

[reinvent--yourself]

gotta keep 'em separated

prompt: britkids - wendy, jane and alice are the leaders of a riotgrrrrl gang that is perpetually butting heads with a rival gang led by john and thomas. an altercation between their gangs inadvertently lead to a full blown riot, and shenanigans ensue.

It was early evening, the sky looking as though it was dip-dyed with vivid reds giving way to periwinkle blue, as John Smith meandered leisurely down the mostly-deserted streets. Every now and then he lifted his cigarette, held between bruised knuckles, up to his lips and took a drag. As he rounded a corner, he found himself within the gaze of a small boy and his mother. The woman immediately averted her eyes and ushered the boy onwards, obviously unwilling to share a street with someone who appeared to be a delinquent. John simply grinned at the boy and cracked his knuckles, completely at ease with the world.

That was, until he began approaching the usual spot. Thomas and a few other early arrivals were hanging around the entrance to the alleyway where they met daily. Something appeared to be making them unwilling to venture further, and when Thomas noticed him John gave a questioning look.

Thomas scowled. “Those girls are at it again. Told ‘em to piss off but they just won’t listen. We’ve been listening to them bitch about being underpaid for the past half hour, and I reckon we’re about to go mad.”

John sighed, flicked his cigarette off to the side and raked a hand through his hair in frustration. Said girls were your friendly neighbourhood girl gang, only not so friendly. In fact, they were rather given to loud public demonstrations on various rooftops, playing music featuring angry screeching vocals, and had been a source of great irritation for John’s gang since their formation. He could hear them now, chanting angrily about this or that.

“They’re just girls. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of them. Bang a few things up and they’ll scatter for sure.”

The red-head gaped back at him. “Yeah, they’re girls, but there’s like fifty of them over there right now. They’d rip us to shreds!”

His co-leader frowned – the number was a bit of an exaggeration - but conceded his point. They would simply have to wait until more of their number showed up.

***

Jane was just about to introduce one of their members who had come up with a piece to say about double standards in the workforce when Alice pulled at her elbow and gestured over to the mouth of the alley. There stood the only other gang that occupied this part of town – John Smith, Thomas Towne and their pathetic pack of lazy layabouts. No doubt they were there to contest the occupancy of the alleyway – a space to which, in girls’ opinions, they had absolutely no claim. They had arrived first, after all.

John sauntered to the head of the pack, and patted his knee in a demeaning gesture, eyes locked straight on Jane. She bristled and clenched her fists but nevertheless made her way off the makeshift stage, which was nothing more than a few crates pushed together. Alice and Wendy, her co-leaders, followed her. Their faces were mirror images of each other, consternation mixed with hatred mixed with anticipation.

John was the first to speak. “Ladies, how many times do we need to go over this? This spot is ours. You’re welcome to every other part of town, just not this one.”

To Jane’s left, Wendy piped up, her face arranged in an uncharacteristic scowl. “You know fucking well enough that this is the only spot around that’s large enough for us. Why don’t you go find somewhere else?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise at the venom in her words, “Well, now, there’s no call for that kind of language, is there?” His words belied the fact that they had exchanged much more than a few curse words during their last encounter. Already a few of the boys behind him were rolling up their sleeves in preparation.

Jane reached up to remove the necklace from around her neck, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Alice, mad little Alice, was itching to reach for the crowbar leaning on the wall beside her. She paid little attention as the other four leaders fired heated words at each other, but she didn’t have to wait for long.

A shove from one side (Thomas) led to a punch from the other (Wendy), and suddenly mayhem was unleashed. Alice could feel her blood pounding in her ears as she quickly dove to wrap her fingers around her weapon before launching herself into the fray. “BRING IT!” The alley erupted into a riotous cacophony of shouts of pain, high-pitched shrieking and fists landing upon faces, with Bikini Kill providing the soundtrack for the whole affair. Once upon a time, the boys might have felt uneasy about taking swings at a girl, but not now. Not when one of them was kicking their shins out from under them and another was wrapped around their shoulders, trying to claw their eyes out. The taste of blood was tangy at the base of Jane’s tongue as she took a blow to the cheek, before immediately responding with one of her own. Near the wall, a girl had managed to wrap herself round Thomas’ legs while another went in for a crushing blow; he kicked viciously until he had managed to extricate himself.

Sweat dripped into John’s eyes as he threw punch after punch; the boys might be stronger, but there were far more of the girls, and from the outset it was anyone’s fight. Bodies kept colliding into him, some attacking, some by pure accident; he knocked one of the larger girls into a wall, whereupon she immediately slid down, out for the count. A second later, he was cornered by three of her friends; he wondered how Thomas was faring, but didn’t have the time to scout around before a fist came flying at his solar plexus.

Someone had decided the crates would make excellent projectiles; an unfortunate girl was flattened underneath one, while another crate was sent into the wall where it smashed into a dozen pieces.

Meanwhile, Wendy and Alice had also been cornered, three on two. One of the boys went for Wendy’s hair, pulling until she gasped in pain. She stamped firmly on his foot, forcing him to let go until she had enough leeway to get her arm across his neck and pin him; the bone crunched under her knuckles as she drove them into his ribs.  He crumpled immediately.

Alice swiped the back of her hand across her nose, which was dripping after something, or someone, had smashed into it, before catching another boy in a headlock and allowing Wendy the chance to kick at his groin. Thomas went down with a pained groan, and the girls grinned at each other in victory.

Somehow, fighting her way from one side to another, Jane found herself opposite a bloody and swearing John. Currently, their respective wins and losses to each other in past fights had them sitting at 2-2, if one were keeping score. They wouldn’t be tied for long, Jane thought to herself, before quickly jabbing at John’s jaw. John’s neck was forced painfully back and up; yelling in agony, he drove himself forward until he had crushed Jane onto the ground beneath him. He then reared back, before - “BREAK IT UP!”

Two policemen had arrived, but it took until five had made their way to the alley before all of the fighting ceased. All in all, at least twenty people had to be driven to the hospital; the rest were either smart enough to make a break for it when the police first arrived, or were lined up against the wall to be dealt with. The five leaders were among the latter.

They were questioned repeatedly, but surprisingly enough no one seemed willing to place the entirety of the blame on the other side. In the end, they were made to spend the night in a holding cell. Everyone was far too exhausted to complain or pick a fight, and by morning it had almost become an unspoken peace treaty.

Just as they were parting ways on the pavement outside the police station, ready to face lectures and punishment at home, Thomas yelled out, “Still not your spot!”

This time, it took ten policemen to break them apart.