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if i look back, i am lost
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@tigerwillie
Did the devil make the world while god was sleeping? You'll never get a wish from a bone
...
Well I remember when a million was a million; They all have ways to make you pay
a collaborative playlist for the city we all hate to love @behindsanityrp // find it here
rcdqueen:
FOR: @tigerwillie DATE/TIME: 09/12, 8:19 AM LOCATION: Houndstitch Church & Orphanage
Mina heard about the burning in snippets, shards of information that were puzzle-like in their delivery, or perhaps it was better to say kaleidoscopic. There wasn’t much sense to everything she heard, but the pieces fit together well enough that she knew she had to see it for herself.
She didn’t put the impulse toward self-flagellation or to accept blame on display to anyone, not even Bandersnatch who might know her best and be most dear; her involvement in this—the fact that the church’s neutrality wasn’t meant to last—wasn’t public knowledge and she didn’t see a reason that ought to change.
Not all business dealings were meant to be public, most of all in a city like Wonderland.
Still, she felt compelled to see it with her own two eyes, to see what her choice to involve herself in something, to stop something, to start something had wrought because of outside forces.
As such, she abandoned the bank and her penthouse office after opening to join the scene of a tragedy, to become a player in the unfolding drama, to exist within unfolding chaos. She had questions and there was no easy person to ask, so simply picked someone at random, deciding to start with an easy question for a stranger, if only because they were already here and she didn’t care where the information came from as long as it was had, “Do you know how long all this”—she motions to the firefighters, to police, to EMS—“has been going on?”
“At least a few hours.”
Willie barely realizes she’s responded, and it takes her a few moments longer to process who’s spoken to her in the first place. The stench of the burning has fogged her thoughts and made her eyes well up, from smoke or pain or, most believably, both.
There may as well be a boot on her throat, the weight of a tombstone crushing her chest into the ground. It’s awful. A cacophony of wailing and whispering, worry arcing through the air like lightning, and though it looks as if the first responders have things under control there’s a tension in everyone present. One strong enough breeze could set the whole thing off again.
Under it all, a blanket of settling dread. It’s done. People have died, people have been hurt, children are missing. There is no going back to the day before, and little left to salvage now. Nothing to do but move right on with the rescue efforts and everyone else’s lives. But how can that be? In a mere few hours, so much has been extinguished, and that’s just it? People are supposed to keep living like it’s nothing?
Eventually she shakes herself out of it, offers a cordial nod to her newfound companion, unable to muster a smile of even the most polite kind. “I guess the fire started earlier this morning, Ms. Alizadeh. A few people were here to alert the fire department, and then the crowd gathered...”
mdhvre:
Is it really so awful?
He watches her carefully—how she deflates, withdrawing as though the idea of making herself smaller will make the bite of reality a thing less painful to acknowledge. It’s an impulse he understands well enough from his own past, but it does little to dull the edge of exasperation that increasingly colors how he views her nowadays, fond though he is.
“Quite easily,” the words slip out before he can stop himself. “People have done worse to each other for less, and this city has a way of getting underneath your skin.“ And really, perhaps it’s for the best that should she fall into that inevitable disillusionment, the process begins with him. At least then, there is a gradual let down rather than an abrupt descent.
“I just have to make the one delivery and then I’ll be done for the night.” He nods vaguely at the long row of houses that line the street they stand on. “Walk with me? Maybe I can help you clear your mind.”
His words cut across her mind sharp as a slap to the face. Quite easily. She can’t fathom that to be true. But, who is she to challenge him on this, when without a doubt he knows more of this city and the world at large than she can hope to?
It takes her a moment to come up with a response sufficient to escape the matter entirely. “You reap what you sow, as Aunt Jess would say.” The laugh tacked onto the end of her words is light, hollow, bird-boned and stolen away by the wind. It’s her aunt’s favorite thing to say in just about any situation. In fact, it was the last thing she ever said to Willie before the line clicked dead and she has known better than to try calling again. It had been meant as a warning, hadn’t it? To be careful what you put into the world, lest it come back for a limb or more?
She falls into step beside him. “I’d like that.” This is much more genuine, because stark honesty or not, he does make her feel a little better about the state of things.
mdhvre:
FOR: @tigerwillie DATE/TIME: 09/20 AM 6:00 LOCATION: the White Rabbit
“I thought I told you, you don’t have to come in for a while.”
It’s not safe for you anymore, he doesn’t add. I’m not safe for you anymore.
She wouldn’t understand, and he can’t explain to someone so completely different from himself, detached from the world he comes from. Wonderland birthed him into the gutters and tried to bury him in an early grave with all the others like him—what crawled out again is something, after twenty years, he’s still not convinced counts as a human being.
The rabbits are happy enough to have her company, the lot hopping over each other to keep pace with her familiar steps. He doesn’t bother stopping them or trying to convince her to go home, not now that she’s here already. So he retreats into the kitchen to put the kettle on, leaving her with the decision to follow him further in or not. “Did you need something?“
He did, indeed, tell her she need not show up at work for an unspecified length of time in the fire’s wake, and Willie had every intention of listening, except- She had passed by the shop, saw the lights on, knew he was inside all by himself and couldn’t bear to leave him to work all alone. Shouldn’t he be the one taking a leave? He’s still a mystery, his past and connection to the church shrouded from her, and it’s not as if she would pry.
Either way, she couldn’t possibly leave him all by himself. Resolutely tying her apron on, she offers him a smile that only meets his retreating back. “I know, and I’m sorry, but I can hardly just stay at home with everything going on. Keeping myself distracted makes it easier.” She kneels to greet the rabbits, pets their soft ears so sweetly. “There must be something I can do to help out, right? Even if you send me out for deliveries, I’ll be happy.”
now what's that sound from underneath the door? / he's pounding nails into a hardwood floor event 2, 9/14 2:13pm, willie’s apartment complex closed to @thedollmaker
She’s stuck at the door, fumbling for her keys with her arms loaded with grocery bags (reusable, of course, and printed with flowers far too cheerful for Wonderland even on a good day). It’s a typical position to find her in. Overburdened by her own design.
The keys drop, skitter back onto the sidewalk. With a soft sigh that is almost weary, almost, though she’s not ready to let her spirits flag yet - she steps out toward them, straining to pick them up without letting her supplies topple everywhere.
So single-minded is she on her mission - she has to get back inside, she’s only halfway done with care packages for everyone involved in the church fire and those certainly aren’t going to finish themselves - she doesn’t even notice Vin’s ever-more-familiar face approaching until it’s too late, she’s right in his way. “Oh, gosh, I’m totally in your way aren’t I, let me just-” Her frantic words quickly give way to a smile. “Are these your dogs? You have to introduce me!”
mocktvrtle:
it’s willie. k blinks at her, the curve of his mouth softening into a faint grin—the tip of a canine peeks out from behind faintly-chapped lips. “i wouldn’t say i was protecting it,” he replies, toying with the little kitten’s dark tail and tickling the fur around its neck. he takes the jar, lashes drooping as his gaze flickers towards the treats(?) that were inside. he shakes it, listening to the rattle.
“these are…?” slender fingers dip into the mouth of the jar, fiddling around with a treat. “training?” … he imagines the tiny kitten standing in front of a ring of fire, being coerced to jump through. k frowns lightly, pensive. “are you gonna’ bring it home?” he asks, letting the kitten gnaw on a finger as he offers a treat. it’s so small—enough to die without being taken care of.
a heartbeat, as it nudges into his hand—small and warm.
“He’s a little young for training,” she says with all the gentleness in the world, like both K and the kitten need soft words. “First we want him to know that we’re friendly. Isn’t food the way to anyone’s heart?” She reaches out, lets the tiny creature choose to butt his head against her fingers.
She has half a mind to insist K take it home, but that isn’t her call to make, as sweet a pair they are together. “He’s a little too young to be left to fend for himself. Friendly too, which doesn’t always make for a careful hunter.” Sweet things that trail after people who don’t even notice them underfoot don’t have much luck in Wonderland - even she knows this. She scratches between his little triangle ears with just her pinkie nail, smiling at the furball. “A safe, warm home will do him wonders, at least until he’s grown a bit.” Her eyes dart to K. “Do you want to help take care of him? That doesn’t mean you have to take him home.”
hxtters:
She’s heard a similar phase uttered many times, or at least its sentiments, people didn’t tend to be able to talk in complete sentences when she was on a job, and those that were referring to her damn height soon learned to shove those words back in their mouths soon after. But of course, the person in front of her meant something else entirely.
In contrast to poor Willie’s smile, Ruby’s only grew wider. “ ‘Course I did, everyone’s all excited ‘round the city, things are happening. ” Girl is taller and older and yet beliefs are far more naive than is good for someone living in this City.
A shrug as she gazes back with wide eyes, tone all matter-of-fact. “ I mean, I’ve seen lotsa worse things. ” Done worse, too, but those are other stories entirely. “ ‘S not that surprisin’ in the act itself, haven’t you heard of many such things else? ”
It is truly fascinating to watch those who blind themselves to the City’s true nature, and it is always a tossup on how long such soft things last. “ Aw, maybe you should ask Grumpy for some tea, and lot of it. Gotta feeling lotsa things are ‘bout to happen, dunno if your stomach might die if you hear ‘bout them. ”
It takes her a minute to process excited, worse, lots - all things Willie does not want to consider as possible for the city she’s come to love, or the people in it. All things that do not align logically in her head.
It’s the notion that Ruby has been through worse than murder that sticks, yanking her heartstrings like a frantic puppetmaster. “Well, I suppose...” Her brow wrinkles with a pained sort of worry. “But this feels closer to home, rather literally. And so hard to explain. A city this big is bound to have all sorts of people with certain- um, tendencies in it, but- this is so sudden, with no explanation, even though it feels as though...”
As though there should be one. Because who would do something as sinister as yank teeth and leave bodies and parts around if not for some as-yet-unknown purpose? It’s just the sort of thing that isn’t found out until someone gets caught, or some unfortunate person comes next.
With no small alarm her focus sharpens on Ruby again. “You really think so? I hope no one else has to suffer that way.”
Happy Birthday Div [ Mini-Playlist ] | @tigerwillie
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIV!
@tigerwillie
paxbandersnatch:
they haven’t slept. they laid in a bed for a time, moments where their eyes drifted closed and the darkness was something warm and comforting - mother’s hugs, warm drinks, blankets and freckles ( sunshine comes later, when the warmth has already been stolen ). a breath let out, but then inhaled, and the warm grows sticky, congealing, cold, weight that suffocates, cold floors and electric hum.
dreaming of the depths is never a good sign. these things are not just wonderland consuming, not just wonderland hungering and festering, for mould and grime layer in the reflections of every street, but this is something more rancid in the air.
purpose, as always, is what gets them out of their bed, through their routine, then up to the hotel, to discover and prevent it from further harming mina. purpose is what has them waiting in the lobby to be taken up to the room, and what has them distracted when willie waltzes up - all clean and sweet, as though she lives on a third layer of wonderland, something built out of the clouds and cottoncandy.
they swallow down the wince, fail to offer a smile to the other. ‘ no. ‘ they blink. ‘ thank you, but no. ‘ there’s not much of an appetite to be had, no matter how much they know that her scones are tasty, or how much she means the offering in good faith. eyes drift over to the receptionist, before snapping back to willie, a question in the tilt of their head. ‘ what are you doing here? ‘
It’s taken some time, but Willie thinks she has a handle on recognizing when Pax is in work mode. A little like watching a cyborg’s programming start up in a movie - not a comparison she’s very fond of, cold and a little insensitive as it is. Still, the similarities are there. Sharper eyes, jaw set for business. Definitely the look of someone on a mission on pain of being fired by Miranda Priestly, which is as close to death as Willie is willing to imagine for someone she’s fond of.
She’s earnest anyway. They might have their professional face on, but who knows what need for comfort, or even just normalcy, lies beneath? “I thought- well, with everything that happened here, there are probably lots of residents who could use a gentle pick-me-up, you know?”
Even seeing them now, Willie realizes she doesn’t know why they would be here either, or even what their job actually is. She remembers this often, but Pax is the kind of mysterious element to her life that she doesn’t mind, and asking seems like pushing a boundary she has no say in. Instead she deflects. “Don’t let me be a bother. There will be pastries waiting for when you’re not working. But if I can help with anything at all, I’d love to try!”
{ ♧ } —- send this for a wildcard! creation for our ship
one-way reflection, nothing in common but a smile - mad hatter & tiger lily - listen
requested by @hxtters // more here
{ ⊙ } —- send this to get an aesthetic for my character.
she wore a smile like a loaded gun - mad hatter
requested by @hxtters // more here
{ ♚ } —- send this to get an instagram edit for my character.
not actually requested by @ofhvmpty but i felt like it anyway // more here
{ ◎ } —- send this to get an aesthetic for our ship.
i think i lost my mind; don’t worry about me, happens all the time - white rabbit & tiger lily
requested by @killtherabbits // more here
{ ♚ } —- send this to get an instagram edit for my character.
requested by @ofhvmpty // more here
definitely lowkey more of an animal adoption and general positivity page than a personal insta
rpaskmemesx:
◜ create ◇ ask memes ◞
send any of the following symbols to get a creation. be sure to specify muse and/or ship. i have linked templates for the edits if that helps.
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{ ♬ } —- send this to get a playlist for our ship.
{ ⊙ } —- send this to get an aesthetic for my character.
{ ◎ } —- send this to get an aesthetic for our ship.
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ofhvmpty:
-
tragedies are a dime a dozen in this rotting heartland. he’d hardly blinked when news of a couple of corpses hit, and it wasn’t until he’d heard to whom those bodies belonged to that he’d paid it any mind. a murder was not simply just a murder, but transformed, the rising action of a something shakespearean and strange still being written. this tiny universe of villains, vagabonds, and innocents waits with bated breath for the next act, peering over the shoulder of every player with a pen.
this innocent that sits herself before him blooms in the light - he is curious to see if she’d grow below, or if she’d be left to wilt in her rot like the others. he prefers her like this, unknowing and strange in her persistent purity - perhaps, akin to the serpent beneath the dirt, nudging his favored crop to the sun.
“no fretting. i wasn’t waiting long. i’ve already got them preparing us two pots. one for us, and one for our companion running late.” a smile free of edge. there is no need for one. he likes willie, truly. and soft things startle easily at the glimpse of a blade’s point. “i confess, i don’t have a particularly strong stomach, and i’m trying not to think too deeply on things of such heinous nature. it’s easiest for me to go about my days this way.” he shakes his head, offers his palm for her to take. “it is especially gruesome for someone of your sensitivities, i’m sure. what do you make of it?”
Guilt tightens in her shoulders at the mere thought of causing him distress, but he’s smiling, so she smiles too. Her hand is little where she slides it into his, crooked pinkie sticking out almost delicately. “I can’t dwell on it either. It’s just so... I can barely imagine it. How could anyone do such a thing?”
It’s beyond her comprehension, the desire to hurt any living creature. Except perhaps oneself. “Still,” she says, soft as snowfall, “I suppose that’s the nature of a place like this. All its curiosities and varieties leave room for- for shocking moments, and ideas entirely outside what I know.” Which isn’t much.
“The best we can do is try to be good, right?” Her face is hopeful but the words are without a doubt a question for him, the authority here, whose guidance she accepts all too easily. The best she’s ever known is to be obedient, inoffensive. To hurt another is just as impossible as stealing the limelight away from someone, anyone, clearly more deserving of praise and attention. “That, and enjoy our tea with people we adore?”
