When You Can’t Look on the Bright Side, I Will Sit With You in the Dark” -Lewis Caroll
Some people are morning people. Alice was a said morning person and was always up far before Varian. Varian, on the other hand, was never up before eight am, and even then he wasn’t actually awake until he had his coffee.
Some people love to pester others. Alice loved to pester Varian, as he never really seemed to be annoyed by it. He would sit and drink his coffee, and Alice would lean on him, play with his hair, read the most obnoxious books she could get, pour sugar and cream in his coffee, and no matter what he’d just...allow it.
Some people have very high levels of tolerance. Varian’s level of tolerance was much higher than most people’s. At least when it came to Alice, she had stuck by his side throughout plenty of things, and no matter how much everyone else seemed to dislike him for many a reason, Alice neverminded it.
Some people have different levels of good and bad, Alice had no level within her. She seemed to see the world in a way that Varian could not understand. And in the morning, when she began to ramble off things about her Wonderland, he never felt annoyed as it gave him a glimpse into the world inside her head that she always claimed was real. He didn’t know if it was, but the way she spoke, made him want to go there too. As long as Alice was with him.
“But Shouldn't I Want the World to see The Brilliant Girl Who Inspires Me?” -Jeremy Jordan
They’re happily swing-dancing the night away!!
I made two versions: one with shadows and one flat color!
Thank you again for the drawing yesterday, and I had another bad day, so I decided to return the favor by drawing you something!!
I hope you like it!!
Oh and this mini-fic that goes with it:
Willow laughs as she is dragged by the queen, “Poppy, poppy, I’m too old for this!”
“You’re only like ten years older than me.” Poppy rolls her eyes, “You’re never too old to go to a swing-party!”
“I don’t think you know what that means, do you?” Willow laughs again, as Poppy beams back.
“Swing dancing of course!”
“Ah, of course.” The slightly sarcastic reply pushes past her lips, as something dawns on her. “Wait, poppy I don’t have a partner!”
“Don’t worry, I have one for you!”
“I’m not dancing with Branch again,” Willow sighs, blowing a strand of her hair from her face. “He’s far too pushy of a dancer-”
“Nonono,” Poppy laughs, “Don’t worry, Branch is gonna dance with me today!” She grins, a tinge of magenta rising to her cheeks. Ahh, that made sense.
“So, who am I dancing with? Please say it’s not a teenager either.”
“Uh-Can’t promise? Age is kinda weird in this situation.”
“What situation-”
“Archer!” Poppy nearly yanks Willow’s arm out of socket as her feet pick up speed, wait-Archer? Oh nonononononono-
“Poppy,” Archer smiles, Willow feels her cheeks darken as heat rises to them. Yeah, okay, she found him a little attractive--he did save their village after all! (and almost ruined it too? But ignoring that part).
“I found you someone to dance with!” She beams, gesturing from Archer to willow. “This is Willow Everglade, she loves swing dancing.”
“Hi.” Willow smiles, her hair falling back in place over her left eye, and he beams at her. Archer holds out his hand, offering her a handshake.
“Archer, It’s nice to meet you.” He says as she takes his hand. Willow notices poppy slowly backing away to go meet up with Branch.
“Pleasure’s all mine, but I must warn you,” Willow snickers, “I’m a pretty good swing dancer, but don’t expect me to be able to go non-stop like poppy. I’m quite a bit older than her after all.”
“How much older?” He raises an eyebrow. “Cause I honestly thought you were younger than her.” A hand hits his shoulder.
“Don’t lie about things like that,” Willow laughs, and he laughs too,
“I’m not lying!” Archer grins, “I’m being serious!”
“I’m 32,” She answers him with a slight smirk, and his face lights up with a dark blush.
“Really?” He mutters, “You’re like 10 years older than me.”
“Ugh, don’t say that now I feel really old.”
“What?! No!” Archer says a bit too fast, clearing his throat suddenly he glances away. “I mean, you’re not that old at all. You’re actually quite beautiful.”
“Charmer.” Willow laughs, noticing the music starts, she looks at him. Willow had no issue taking the initiative, but as she turns she notices he’s already holding out his hand.
“May I have this dance?” Archer asks, smiling at her, and she smirks a bit.
“Depends, think you can keep up?”
“I’ve never really danced like this before, so, no?” He nervously chuckles, and she places her hand in his.
“Suppose I ought to show you how then.” Willow smiles, and he finds himself being pulled onto the dance floor, with a large grin spreading across his lips.
It began one day at the library when Poppy had finally finished going through the fourteen Fun-ipedias that resided there. Branch had been going through the practical matters when one, old, worn book in the corner of the room caught his attention. It looked almost as though it had been thrown into the library in great haste. He picked it up, and it became clear that this book was very old, and yet, there was no dust on the cover. This caught his interest, and as he turned it around to read the cover, he realized something else:
He couldn’t read it.
“Poppy!” Branch walks over to her, handing her the book. “Can you read this?”
“Nope.” She shakes her head, handing it back to him after a minute. “Do you know what it is?”
“I think it’s an old troll language if I had to guess.” Branch looks around the library. “I’m gonna see if I can start to translate it. Maybe it’s important.”
“Good idea, Branch!” Poppy grins, grabbing a ‘how to do even more scrapbooking’ scrapbook off a shelf. “We both can do some research then!” He smiles a bit.
“I’ll let you know if it says anything important.”
“Why don’t you just rewrite it?” Poppy asks, tilting her head slightly.
“Rewrite it?” Branch looks at her, a bit shocked at the suggestion.
“Yeah! Then you don’t have to tell me everything, and then anyone will be able to read it anyhow.” Poppy smiles, “And if its super important, we’ll need a readable copy anyhow.”
Branch nods, already getting to work.
A few hours later, he calls over Poppy again. “I think I got it!”
“Really?” Poppy asks, hopping onto the desk he was working at.
“Yeah,” He slides his small journal over. “After using like fifty scrapbooks, I worked out that it’s the first troll language on record here at the library.
“Wow!” Poppy’s eyes sparkle. “That’s so cool, so what’ the book about?” She gestures to the book that started this whole thing.
“Uh here let me--” He slides his guide and the book back in front of him, translating it quickly. “The complete history of Troll Kind.” He reads before they both look at each other.
“Really?” Poppy grabs it and opens it. “It looks like some one’s old doodle book!”
“it’s a field guide!” Branch exclaims, suddenly very excited. “I have one, you draw really quick to try and explain what you find while doing field research.” He says, grabbing the book from her. “Should we keep translating it?”
“Yeah!” Poppy grabs her scrapbooking supplies. “You translate, and I’ll record!”
“Okay, but we’re going to keep the original drawings. It’s important too.”
“Well yeah, but they won’t last long in that binding.”
“After much thinking,” Poppy announces, the baby swaddled in her arms, wrapped in a blanket Branch had knitted. “We decided to name her--”
“Snow Cloud.” Branch followed with the small troll clutching to one of his fingers.
The village cheered, not knowing that the tiny baby was gray. So gray that she looked worse than Branch ever had, and his heart lurched when he looked at her.
The shocking thing for Branch had been that she was a pale gray, near white. Her hair a dark gray, and eyes a pale blue. He held the small babe in his hands, holding her up to his face. Their noses touch and the small child goes to grab his face, causing his breath to hitch.
“You’re the end of a rainbow, a pot of gold.” Branch sings gently to her, “You’re daddy’s little girl.” He bounces the girl softly, who giggles in return. “to have and hold.”
“A precious gem is what you are, You're mommy's bright and shining star.” The little girl seemed to be listening with an intensity that he could only describe as ‘Poppy’. His hand cups around her tiny head, holding her. “ You're the spirit of Christmas, my star on the tree,” His voice gently in the tiny lullaby: “ You're the Easter bunny to mommy and me;” Branch spins in place, dancing with his precious daughter. “You're sugar, you're spice, you're everything nice, And you're Daddy's Little Girl.”
“ Little girl of mine, with eyes of shining blue.” Once again, lifting her up, their noses bump and she lets out a bright laugh. But her eyes are still an ice blue and her skin still a colorless gray. “ Little girl of mine, I love you, yes, I do.” He swallows, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes.
“ No one else could be so sweet,” He looks at his laughing daughter. How could she be so happy and gray? Was it because of him? Was this all because of him? Tears began to pour from his eyes with the final line of his song, “You have made my life complete.” He looks at his little Snow Cloud, kissing her forehead, and letting himself cry. Praying that he wouldn’t turn gray: Afterall, he had to show her that it was possible to be happy.
Because it was. And nothing was more proof of that than the tiny, laughing, gray troll in his arms now. His daughter.
Taking a deep breath, Alice adjusts the overskirt of her ballgown, this was--unusual. She was so used to her mother’s parties, where the adults stood around, talking business and deals, and usually someone would make some sort of sexist comment towards her. Alice expected this party to go much the same, but with fancier gowns, and no mother.
However, the party had just started, and it was already so different. First there was Jasmine, the life of the party, the very reason-Alice was sure of it- that anyone was even smiling. Her laugh was so brilliant, and her smile even moreso. Alice could see how everyone in the room was falling in love with her, and if Alice didn’t know of the temper, the stubbornness, the annoyingness that smile hid? She’d be falling right along with everyone else. Then, there was the issue of introductions, which Jasmine had luckily taken over: Princess Alice, her younger sister. What a strange feeling rushed over Alice’s heart the first time she heard those words from the woman’s mouth, she knew that being ‘adopted’ by Jasmine and her family would introduce her into the court in one way or another. Alice figured it would be as a lady, not a princess. The blush that lifted onto her face, and darkened her cheeks certainly didn’t pass by Jasmine’s radar if that smirk meant anything.
Alice stood by Jasmine, the entire night, even going as far as to cling to the woman’s arm. Without her mother, Alice felt insufferably lost at this sort of thing, and Jasmine was a safety net. Something to fall into if something went wrong. However, as Alice got distracted by a woman’s dress (How did that even work? Shouldn’t it fall off? Is that Wonderlandian magic?), and ended up losing Jasmine in the crowd. As the panic set in, Alice’s heart began to race, and suddenly it felt like she was surrounded by dresses, hoop skirts, shoes, and pants, so many clothes--where was the exit? Alice needed the exit. Now.
Her breathing began to shorten, and Alice squeezes past a few dresses, her eyes searching the crowd for anything familiar. Nothing was familiar. Aldora’s smirk was missing, her mother’s nails gone, her gardens too. Nothing was familiar. Jasmine was too far now, Alice couldn’t find her, and the exit wasn’t within sight. The panic was getting worse, Alice could feel herself about to lose to the madness. She needed out. She needed to run. But Alice knew she couldn’t, she couldn’t ruin Jasmine’s night. Couldn’t ruin anyone else’s night. Finally, Alice spots something familiar, a fabric that her hand reaches for. It was purple, it was soft, it was Aladdin. Clinging to the man, she says nothing, but clings tightly, holding as though the vest was her only lifeline. She’s in hysterics at this point, and Aladdin gently picks his sister-in-law up, carrying her out of the ball. He’d return to the ball, and gently whisper in Jasmine’s ear, they allow Alice to sleep the rest of the ball.
Finally, after the ball ended, Jasmine would find Alice on her bed, dress removed, hair loose, and with Jasmine’s blanket wrapped around her. Tear stains on her face, sleep still in her eyes, and a small sad smile on her lips, as Alice finally speaks for the first time that night, “Can I sleep with you tonight, ‘Min?” And how could anyone say no to those blue eyes?
SOOO I Decided to design human versions of the trolls, they live in a small town called Trolltown ( probably in Wisconsin, US because there's like entire towns that have little obsessions with trolls? Like I cannot make this shit up I live like two hours from there ??) TW: violence mention, gang mention, and murder mention
So in the top left is Archer! So in my mind, he is a punk af, and Hispanic! (might be me just shoving my nationality on him but whatever) He has a bit of a wide set jaw, and a lot of neon green piercings. He’s lived near Trolltown for many years, but only recently came here to get away from his brother’s gang, and wants to try and better his life
Bottom Left, is my Oc Willow! She would be Indengious and have a bit of a ‘hawk nose’ (again, might just be me shoving my own nationality but eh deal with it. representation is important). She would like to dye her hair green and wear a single long gold earing, but only one. Her family moved from the Navajo Nation reservation (right by ‘the four corners’) about forty years ago. Why they moved, Willow feels as though she doesn’t have the right to ask as when she tries, her grandma just simply says something about her parents and closes the door.
Top right is Poppy, She’s Japanese, and would be an immigrant (i love Poppy, okay, let me pretend she doesn't have to deal with America’s shitty president), and would have a mini salon sorta deal in her bathroom where she dyes her hair every Sunday morning before she does her work. She’s a fan of Harajuku style but wants to try and fit in with other American teenagers at the same time, so she’s created her own somewhere-between style. She’s become very popular at school because of her 'foreignness’, so she feels very grateful when she finds people who like her for her and not for her novelty.
Bottom Right is Branch! He is African-American and moved to Trolltown when he was very little after his family was killed for an unknown reason. He was adopted by a new family, but he is still very paranoid that whoever came after his family is still out there looking for him. He was too young to remember who actually killed them, but based on all his childhood scribbles, he’s come to refer to them as ‘the Bergen’.
I hope you all enjoy my little scribbles and little stories to go with them
