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Back in the Mirror Again.
Aug. 1st, 2010 08:52 pmAlice snarls, pounding on the glass of the Mirror. Damn them, damn them all!
She shrieks, the sound a mix of hate, rage and utter despair, but there's no one there to hear her....
She shrieks, the sound a mix of hate, rage and utter despair, but there's no one there to hear her....
OOM: The Past
Jul. 24th, 2010 12:19 pm1858:
It is very hard to be reasonable when what you really want to do is shake some sense into someone, Charles Dodgson thought to himself.
Were they blind? Couldn't they see that there was something deeply wrong with Alice Liddell? The emotional outbursts, the deliberate cruelty, the false guilt and remorse when she was caught....it was all there, if anyone had bothered to look.
He'd tried. God knows he'd tried, but they just wouldn't listen! His polite inquiries and gentle suggestions had been not so kindly rebuffed by her father and mother. He was a student, and her father was the Dean of Christ Church, a man far out of his league, influence wise. He had no proof of anything criminal, either. To the rest of the world, Alice was a rather childlike 14 year old girl. Sweet and beautiful, if sometimes temperamental.
After the latest rebuff by her parents, he'd met Alice in the hallway of Christ Church. She'd smiled at him with a knowing smirk that showed, if only for a moment, what lay beneath the facade. He'd shivered then, despite the Summer warmth.
Heaven help him, he didn't dare meddle further. It might be more than his career or his life was worth! There was nothing left to do but record what he'd surmised, record what he observed of Alice. He'd pin down the truth onto paper, even if it was never believed.
1862:
Alice Liddell was becoming more and more insane, he knew. There had been something deeply wrong with her since he'd known her, if not before, but she'd never seemed delusional.
Most people thought it a harmless quirk, her "tales" that she told of another world through the Looking Glass in his office. "She's going to be an author some day," they'd say, or "Think of what tales she'll tell her children."
Fools! Idiots! Couldn't they see that Alice believed every word more than any priest believed the Gospel? She'd taken to staring into the thing for hours, and being in a genuinely foul and cruel mood when she was forced to leave. His cat Timothy had gone missing, and several people around the campus had suffered "accidents" that left them bleeding or with broken bones. There was no proof, of course. There never was with Alice. She'd gotten very good at covering her tracks.
He didn't know what she saw in the mirror. He was also quite sure he didn't want to. She was becoming more and more violent, if the accidents were any indication. He feared it was only a matter of time before something.....worse happened in the vicinity of Christ Church.
It is very hard to be reasonable when what you really want to do is shake some sense into someone, Charles Dodgson thought to himself.
Were they blind? Couldn't they see that there was something deeply wrong with Alice Liddell? The emotional outbursts, the deliberate cruelty, the false guilt and remorse when she was caught....it was all there, if anyone had bothered to look.
He'd tried. God knows he'd tried, but they just wouldn't listen! His polite inquiries and gentle suggestions had been not so kindly rebuffed by her father and mother. He was a student, and her father was the Dean of Christ Church, a man far out of his league, influence wise. He had no proof of anything criminal, either. To the rest of the world, Alice was a rather childlike 14 year old girl. Sweet and beautiful, if sometimes temperamental.
After the latest rebuff by her parents, he'd met Alice in the hallway of Christ Church. She'd smiled at him with a knowing smirk that showed, if only for a moment, what lay beneath the facade. He'd shivered then, despite the Summer warmth.
Heaven help him, he didn't dare meddle further. It might be more than his career or his life was worth! There was nothing left to do but record what he'd surmised, record what he observed of Alice. He'd pin down the truth onto paper, even if it was never believed.
1862:
Alice Liddell was becoming more and more insane, he knew. There had been something deeply wrong with her since he'd known her, if not before, but she'd never seemed delusional.
Most people thought it a harmless quirk, her "tales" that she told of another world through the Looking Glass in his office. "She's going to be an author some day," they'd say, or "Think of what tales she'll tell her children."
Fools! Idiots! Couldn't they see that Alice believed every word more than any priest believed the Gospel? She'd taken to staring into the thing for hours, and being in a genuinely foul and cruel mood when she was forced to leave. His cat Timothy had gone missing, and several people around the campus had suffered "accidents" that left them bleeding or with broken bones. There was no proof, of course. There never was with Alice. She'd gotten very good at covering her tracks.
He didn't know what she saw in the mirror. He was also quite sure he didn't want to. She was becoming more and more violent, if the accidents were any indication. He feared it was only a matter of time before something.....worse happened in the vicinity of Christ Church.
The Red Queen.
Jul. 19th, 2010 09:17 pmShe has to repress the urge to crow in triumph when Claudia is back through the door and she's standing in the most curious bar she's ever seen.
Still, she has unfinished business. They can get here too, and so long as the Mirror is whole, they can cage her in it again.
Alice moves to open the Door, and nothing happens. She snarls in rage, yanking on the knob with all her might. The wood grain twists into letters and words: This Door is not a door for you, Red Queen.
"I am not the Red Queen!" Alice snarls. But this time, the Door does not answer.
She stalks toward the Bar, until, putting her hand in her pocket, she finds a key. It's a plain brass key with the number 1938 on it. Well, this will do nicely.
Some time later, Alice is standing naked in front of the mirror, examining her new body. She's at a loss to explain some of the scars. The teeth of a Jabberwock, the claws of a Bandersnatch? That, at least, might explain all the weapons and things on the wall that she can't identify.
She frowns at the ugly white marks on her skin, and runs her hands over them, concentrating. Her flesh flows like water for a moment, and the scars vanish. "Much better," she says to herself.
She grins cruelly. "I'm going to bathe in your blood and the ashes of your precious Warehouse," she says to no one. Then she giggles, child-like. "Off with their heads!"
Still, she has unfinished business. They can get here too, and so long as the Mirror is whole, they can cage her in it again.
Alice moves to open the Door, and nothing happens. She snarls in rage, yanking on the knob with all her might. The wood grain twists into letters and words: This Door is not a door for you, Red Queen.
"I am not the Red Queen!" Alice snarls. But this time, the Door does not answer.
She stalks toward the Bar, until, putting her hand in her pocket, she finds a key. It's a plain brass key with the number 1938 on it. Well, this will do nicely.
Some time later, Alice is standing naked in front of the mirror, examining her new body. She's at a loss to explain some of the scars. The teeth of a Jabberwock, the claws of a Bandersnatch? That, at least, might explain all the weapons and things on the wall that she can't identify.
She frowns at the ugly white marks on her skin, and runs her hands over them, concentrating. Her flesh flows like water for a moment, and the scars vanish. "Much better," she says to herself.
She grins cruelly. "I'm going to bathe in your blood and the ashes of your precious Warehouse," she says to no one. Then she giggles, child-like. "Off with their heads!"
OOM: The Past. Childhood.
Jul. 16th, 2010 01:06 pmThere was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very, very good,
But when she was bad, she was horrid.
- English Nursery Rhyme
Nobody is as blind as those who refuse to see. There were signs of what Alice would become, if anyone had been paying attention.
"Here Dinah, here kitty," Alice called out across the yard.
"Dinah's missing, Alice?" her mother asked with a sigh.
"I, I haven't seen her in days!" Alice wailed.
Her mother held her in an attempt at comfort. "Cat's do wander off, dear. Still, we seem to have terrible luck with the creatures. I've never known so many cats to run away from a place where they're fed."
Alice sniffled theatrically. "If, if she doesn't come back, do you think Miss. Thomas will let me have one of her kittens?"
"Of course she will, dear," her mother replied, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.
Alice dropped all pretense of sorrow as soon as her mother was out of sight. She smirked at the gullibility of these characters she was stuck with. Surely real people wouldn't be this pathetic?
Most of the stream of Dinahs hadn't had the chance to run away before Alice killed them by "playing" with them, including the most recent. Now that the cat had officially "run away", it was time to deal with the body stowed in the Mulberry tree in the yard...
Duped: Part 10
Jul. 15th, 2010 11:09 pmAlice drives up to the Warehouse, and rubs the coin between her fingers. She ignores the sharp pain as visions of the future pass in front of her eyes.
Walking through the door, down the Umbilicus, looking into the strange blue device that is the retinal scanner.
Entering the office and seeing a hammer on the edge of the desk.
Alice snaps back to the present, and cautiously exits the car. The scanner accepts her as Myka, and she cautiously enters the office, pausing to look around warily. The hammer sits temptingly on the edge of the desk.
She picks it up and examines it, a bit perplexed, "Curiouser and curiouser," she whispers to herself. She flinches as she's reminded of the wound the coin has made in her hand.
Curious or not, it's time to finish things once and for all. She hefts the hammer and stalks purposely toward her prison, intent on its utter destruction.
(OOC: dialog from Warehouse 13: Duped)
Walking through the door, down the Umbilicus, looking into the strange blue device that is the retinal scanner.
Entering the office and seeing a hammer on the edge of the desk.
Alice snaps back to the present, and cautiously exits the car. The scanner accepts her as Myka, and she cautiously enters the office, pausing to look around warily. The hammer sits temptingly on the edge of the desk.
She picks it up and examines it, a bit perplexed, "Curiouser and curiouser," she whispers to herself. She flinches as she's reminded of the wound the coin has made in her hand.
Curious or not, it's time to finish things once and for all. She hefts the hammer and stalks purposely toward her prison, intent on its utter destruction.
(OOC: dialog from Warehouse 13: Duped)
Duped: Part 9
Jul. 15th, 2010 04:32 pmThe trouble with the earpiece, as far as the good guys are concerned, is that it works both ways. Alice can listen to what Pete is saying, and what people are saying to him.
"Jillian. Hi, name's Pete. Look, you're in trouble, and I'm here to help. That chip that you have? The one that's changed your luck? Hey!"
A woman answers, presumably Jillian. "Let go, or I'll scream," said in a low voice.
"Jillian, It's hurting you. That is a contact wound. Wishing objects do that. This one seems to be a bit addictive, and we both know that's bad, right? So, you keep the money, but you give me the chip."
"No."
"Gary's sick too, isn't he? Stop while you're ahead, Jillian. Trust me," his tone faintly pleading. "Don't make me use this."
There's a pause. "The Jubilee Grand, right? The fire?"
"What are you going to do with it?"
"I'm going to put this on a shelf and ignore it, forever," Pete replies, voice intent. A few moments later "...Wow"
"I know, now watch," the woman's voice says, excited.
"Watch what?"
"That chip allows you to see the future." There's the sound of a man cursing, glass breaking and two people colliding.
A few moments later, Pete speaks again. "Yeah, I can see the attraction," he admits.
"There was this man at the bar one night bragging about how he miraculously survived the inferno. He said this chip saved his life."
"You stole it," Pete says, unsurprised.
"It's what we do," she replies.
Then the intercom is heard, paging Pete. "Jillian, take the money. Run, don't walk. Find a beach, never look back. I'm going to go get your husband."
"You're releasing us? Letting us go?" Jillian asks, surprised.
"What happens in Vegas, okay. Just get out of here."
This is not good news for Alice. She leans forward. "It looks like you were telling the truth," she remarks with a menacing smile.
"Don't hurt Jillian," he asks quietly, beaten.
"Oh, Gary," Alice replies as she moves toward him. "Do you know what? Hurting is half the fun," she replies, leaning close to him. "You wanna know what's more fun? The other half." She turns to look at herself in the mirror. The other mirror showing, for a moment, the little girl's face the Mirror gave her. Gary sees this and looks at her, shocked.
"Who are you?" he asks quietly.
Alice is intent as she replies. "You had your wishes, Gary," she says as she moves away and looks in the mirror. "Now it's my turn." She looks in the mirror. "And now I'll know, when they're coming for me. And if I can see them, I can kill them," she concludes, her voice dark with menace. She can feel the Tesla in her hand, man made lightning, and she feels so terribly powerful. She turns and fires it at point blank range. The look of fear and despair on his face as it hits him and sends him to the floor is better than any drug could ever be.
Alice giggles, riding the high that it always gives her. "I bet you didn't see that coming," she says sarcastically as she turns away.
(OOC: Dialog taken from Warehouse 13: Duped)
"Jillian. Hi, name's Pete. Look, you're in trouble, and I'm here to help. That chip that you have? The one that's changed your luck? Hey!"
A woman answers, presumably Jillian. "Let go, or I'll scream," said in a low voice.
"Jillian, It's hurting you. That is a contact wound. Wishing objects do that. This one seems to be a bit addictive, and we both know that's bad, right? So, you keep the money, but you give me the chip."
"No."
"Gary's sick too, isn't he? Stop while you're ahead, Jillian. Trust me," his tone faintly pleading. "Don't make me use this."
There's a pause. "The Jubilee Grand, right? The fire?"
"What are you going to do with it?"
"I'm going to put this on a shelf and ignore it, forever," Pete replies, voice intent. A few moments later "...Wow"
"I know, now watch," the woman's voice says, excited.
"Watch what?"
"That chip allows you to see the future." There's the sound of a man cursing, glass breaking and two people colliding.
A few moments later, Pete speaks again. "Yeah, I can see the attraction," he admits.
"There was this man at the bar one night bragging about how he miraculously survived the inferno. He said this chip saved his life."
"You stole it," Pete says, unsurprised.
"It's what we do," she replies.
Then the intercom is heard, paging Pete. "Jillian, take the money. Run, don't walk. Find a beach, never look back. I'm going to go get your husband."
"You're releasing us? Letting us go?" Jillian asks, surprised.
"What happens in Vegas, okay. Just get out of here."
This is not good news for Alice. She leans forward. "It looks like you were telling the truth," she remarks with a menacing smile.
"Don't hurt Jillian," he asks quietly, beaten.
"Oh, Gary," Alice replies as she moves toward him. "Do you know what? Hurting is half the fun," she replies, leaning close to him. "You wanna know what's more fun? The other half." She turns to look at herself in the mirror. The other mirror showing, for a moment, the little girl's face the Mirror gave her. Gary sees this and looks at her, shocked.
"Who are you?" he asks quietly.
Alice is intent as she replies. "You had your wishes, Gary," she says as she moves away and looks in the mirror. "Now it's my turn." She looks in the mirror. "And now I'll know, when they're coming for me. And if I can see them, I can kill them," she concludes, her voice dark with menace. She can feel the Tesla in her hand, man made lightning, and she feels so terribly powerful. She turns and fires it at point blank range. The look of fear and despair on his face as it hits him and sends him to the floor is better than any drug could ever be.
Alice giggles, riding the high that it always gives her. "I bet you didn't see that coming," she says sarcastically as she turns away.
(OOC: Dialog taken from Warehouse 13: Duped)
Duped: Part 8
Jul. 15th, 2010 11:07 amAlice runs a hand along the wall, relishing the feel of the wallpaper under her hand. It's been so long, so very long, since she could feel anything but the cold, hungry, glass of the mirror. A century and more of being unable to smell, or taste or touch. Catching only what fragments of other people's lives passed close to that thrice damned mirror.
She's finally escaped that prison, and she's not going back. Never, never, never. But she knows them, oh yes. They never let anything or anyone go. She needs that Artifact to keep out of their reach, and she's going to get it. By whatever means necessary.
She is, she was, a good liar. Practiced at playing the innocent, beautiful, child-like young woman, wearing her like a mask over her real self. A mask that accursed mirror had chosen to inflict on her while she was caged in it without any other shape to borrow. She likes this shape much better, and it's far more useful for her purposes. Men are so easy to manipulate when you can use their desire against them. Alice smirks. Pete never even noticed what she stole from him.
But that might not last. Alice glances at the hallways signs as she makes her way toward her quarry's room. "Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction," she murmurs to herself. How to get him to open the door, that's the question. Knock? It will do, for a start.
She knocks on the door, changing her voice and posture to that of a woman who's had far too much to drink. "Honey, my key's not working," she complains, voice slightly nasal. She sees him peer through the small opening and open the door. "Hi," she greets him with a falsely drunken smile. "Where's him?" she asks, putting on an air of confusion as he opens the door a little wider.
He looks at her, a bit incredulous. "Uh, he's not here. What room you looking for?"
"My room," she replies, smiling. "Who are you?" she asks, eying him in a speculative fashion. "You're cute." Lust worked so well last time, after all.
He frowns. "You're faking it. Never con a con." He moves to turn and close the door. He really shouldn't have taken his eyes off of her. She hits him in the face with her right fist, and he sprawls backward through the door, landing flat on his back on the floor. Alice stalks through the door after him.
She stands over him, all pretense of drunkenness gone. "You had your chance to walk away. You won't get another." She moves one hand behind her to shut the door. Best not to attract too much attention while she works.
It's not hard to subdue him, tie him up. He's no fighter, and Alice has no compunction about hurting him. Indeed, she roughs him up a little while she interrogates him. His fear and his pain are exhilarating. His helplessness intoxicating for the power it provides. Then the Farnsworth makes its siren like noise that indicates an incoming call. Alice snarls at the interruption, but puts on a pleasant face before she answers. She can't afford for them to get suspicious, not yet.
"Hey," she greets Artie with a smile. He'll get what's coming to him soon enough. They all will.
(OOC: dialoge taken from Lewis Carrol and Warehouse 13: Duped)
She's finally escaped that prison, and she's not going back. Never, never, never. But she knows them, oh yes. They never let anything or anyone go. She needs that Artifact to keep out of their reach, and she's going to get it. By whatever means necessary.
She is, she was, a good liar. Practiced at playing the innocent, beautiful, child-like young woman, wearing her like a mask over her real self. A mask that accursed mirror had chosen to inflict on her while she was caged in it without any other shape to borrow. She likes this shape much better, and it's far more useful for her purposes. Men are so easy to manipulate when you can use their desire against them. Alice smirks. Pete never even noticed what she stole from him.
But that might not last. Alice glances at the hallways signs as she makes her way toward her quarry's room. "Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction," she murmurs to herself. How to get him to open the door, that's the question. Knock? It will do, for a start.
She knocks on the door, changing her voice and posture to that of a woman who's had far too much to drink. "Honey, my key's not working," she complains, voice slightly nasal. She sees him peer through the small opening and open the door. "Hi," she greets him with a falsely drunken smile. "Where's him?" she asks, putting on an air of confusion as he opens the door a little wider.
He looks at her, a bit incredulous. "Uh, he's not here. What room you looking for?"
"My room," she replies, smiling. "Who are you?" she asks, eying him in a speculative fashion. "You're cute." Lust worked so well last time, after all.
He frowns. "You're faking it. Never con a con." He moves to turn and close the door. He really shouldn't have taken his eyes off of her. She hits him in the face with her right fist, and he sprawls backward through the door, landing flat on his back on the floor. Alice stalks through the door after him.
She stands over him, all pretense of drunkenness gone. "You had your chance to walk away. You won't get another." She moves one hand behind her to shut the door. Best not to attract too much attention while she works.
It's not hard to subdue him, tie him up. He's no fighter, and Alice has no compunction about hurting him. Indeed, she roughs him up a little while she interrogates him. His fear and his pain are exhilarating. His helplessness intoxicating for the power it provides. Then the Farnsworth makes its siren like noise that indicates an incoming call. Alice snarls at the interruption, but puts on a pleasant face before she answers. She can't afford for them to get suspicious, not yet.
"Hey," she greets Artie with a smile. He'll get what's coming to him soon enough. They all will.
(OOC: dialoge taken from Lewis Carrol and Warehouse 13: Duped)
Milliways Application
Jun. 6th, 2010 06:37 pmMy LJ: amrin_20012002
E-mail: amrin_20012002@yahoo.com
AIM: amrin20012002
Character Journal: mirror_alice
E-mail: amrin_20012002@yahoo.com
AIM: amrin20012002
Character Journal: mirror_alice
There are two other Warehouse 13 players in the Bar, and it will be fun for them and me to be able to do some canon together. Also, I have non-concrete plans to use Alice to give one of my other characters difficulties. Alice will likely only be in the Bar for a short time and then retired, as she is being brought in for a plot. This is probably a good thing, as she's a violent sociopath.
In canon, two Warehouse 13 agents managed to trap part of Alice Liddell in the mirror, though both of them died, leaving no note as to how the thing was done. We see her as a reflection of Pete in the early episodes that acts somewhat independently, only to be surprised when she finally gets loose.
I'm looking forward to playing her, as this character type is new to me. My other villain is very much a long term planner who is wise enough not to make waves. Alice….isn’t. I’m looking forward to her getting up to trouble in the Bar. She will get her just desserts, never fear. I’m just hoping to plan them out in advance. This character will also be a challenge for me, as she's from an older era and crazy to boot, which should be interesting. I also plan to give a motif of sorts in using quotes from the Alice books in her speech.
I'm also hoping to give her more depth and explanation than she got in her forty-five minute episode in the series. We never really find out why she is the way she is, or how being trapped in a mirror for more than a hundred years has affected her. I plan on exploring what it’s been like for her, what the mirror really is, and how she was trapped in it in the first place.
