Ω ▐ @neverlandbuccaneer
“A HANDSOME OFFER, BUT...I’ve got an appointment, with another man.” The lie slides easily off her tongue, and she’s thankful for her quick wits. It’s a skill one must have in this part of the world...And technically speaking, she’s already turned down one man in the past ten minutes. Turning down another isn’t going to be any skin off of her bones.
“Well, girl, how hard to you want to make this?”
The other man’s words catch her off guard- but only for a moment. “You should know the doctor says I have a TERRIBLE DISEASE,” she counters, before deciding she’ll just have to find another way to Nanny. Peering through netting and walking around crates, it quickly becomes a common sight to see many drunkards fast asleep on Mangled Mermaid grounds. Paralytic addictions disqualify drunkards from any honest means to acquire a strong drink, she thinks as she steps over the legs of a man haphazardly laying within the walking space. It inhibits fear and shame, and emboldens the commission of desperate acts. Then, after a pause, Wonder what became of Priss.
Around another bit of crates, there’s a flyer of sorts; something for a carnival, if Alice had to guess. However, it isn’t the poser that catches her eye...but rather, the DRUNKEN MAN seated beneath it. There’s a bottle in his hand, and he certainly looks weathered- but it was the HOOK on his left hand the strikes her as particularly odd. It would be odd already, of course- but there’s something about this that seems too familiar. A moment of thought. Two. Suddenly, there’s the image of a respectable, ginger-haired captain in her head, and everything clicks into place.Oh yes, she recognizes him now...how could she have forgotten him? He was the love of her sister’s life, after all.
“...James?”
The name is said hesitantly, as though this moment were FRAGILE. James had been practically family, given the nature of his relationship with Elizabeth. Alice had always adored his visits, his stories, his humor. The man before her doesn’t have the same GLEAM in his eye, the same SMILE on his lips, or even the same hair on his head- But then, who is she to say? Her own spark has dulled. Gone was the spark of innocence, the adventurous spirit, the happy tales of a Wonderland in good standing. Instead stands a B R O K E N, BITTER girl who's sanity was constantly in question. GRIEF wasn’t the type to leave a person unchanged.
