Keys to Wonderland

If ever I could bring a downpour,

now feels like it would be a nice time.

[Fog]

Consider my bones chilled. I'm not quite afraid of anything- but such blatant sadism on the Queen's part is enough to make my stomach turn.

How are you faring?

[Chessica]

And how've you been?

Another ingenious idea from the Queen. It's a great way of getting rid of those who have no right being here.

On that note, I found an Oyster, but as I've never had to capture anything before in my life, I made some rookie mistakes. Of course, that will never happen again. I have learned my lesson. So, I figured, in this case, it might not hurt having a helper. Of course, all the spoils will go to me. My helper could get something depending on the quality of work they do.

There's been lots of people wandering through the forest lately, and some of them have had to learn the hard way that we don't take kindly to people not watching where they walk. Yeah, sure things look all tangly and overgrown, but that's someones' roots you're stepping on there and that's not cool.

You should've seen the last group start running when I had to warn them off, hahah, it was like they forgot how to use their legs!

I'd like to file a complaint with whoever felt it was a smart idea to tie a red ribbon about my tail while I napped in a tree. I do realize there is an expression having to do with letting sleeping dogs lie, however I feel it's high time to campaign for one about not bedecking sleeping cats in ribbons. This is highly annoying -- not only can my paws not get a good enough grip on it to untie it, but I feel a compulsive need to attempt to catch it when I see it swishing arrogantly from my tail.

...and since I don't have any clothing nearby I can't shift to my furless form, as the locals don't seem to like a naked Cheshire lounging about. Their loss, really.

Now then, who wants to do this cat a favour? Or... should I keep my tail beribboned, to give it that more festive look?

[Storm's handwriting is thin, and flowing, with looping script and very little pressure on the pen itself. His handwriting dances between elegant and illegible, with generous spacing between words, and a large letter space. His message takes up almost half a sheet of parchment by itself, despite it's relative shortness.]

I'm under the impression that it may not rain for the next week. There's still a chance- if some ambitious tendril of hot air decides to ascend a little too quickly, there could be the smallest of rain showers. But it would be quick, and warm, and gentle. Little ambitious warm fronts usually make the sweetest little showers.

But after that, I'm not sure. I'm feeling positively torrential. I would hope no one's festivities are ruined, but that all depends, really.

I wouldn't take my forecasting too seriously, but I would get an umbrella, if you're the sort who becomes bothered by a little rain.

It is terribly rude to disguise one's self as a saucer and remain as such, even when asked to return to a form that includes a mouth.

They are trying to tell me that the saucer is just a saucer, but I know better. The saucer is yellow you see. That is very suspicious. Very suspicious indeed.

I want to smash it, but I already broke three plates last week. Yesterday is last week.

So. I am adding that saucer to my list of people I DO NOT LIKE. I am on to you, saucer.

People I DO NOT LIKE
- All cats.
- All birds that eat rodents.
- Anything that eats rodents, for that matter. Savages. Terrible savages. May your teeth fall out of your head and be replaced by jelly.
- The man that was wearing green striped trousers on the eighteenth Tuesday of four years ago.
- Whoever ate my aphid and honey scone three months ago (it was not me, I have it on very good authority).
- The man who dumped a pitcher of water on my head just because I fell asleep in his bed. IT WAS THERE and also, that water had lemons in it. The seeds got stuck in my hair.
- Barbers.
- The old lady who hits people with her cane.
- That saucer.

[Little's handwriting is sketchy at best, the words just a smidge bigger than they really ought to be, the letters oddly spaced, sometimes great distances away from each other, or varying in height. He doesn't write much. He can't. It's one of the things that eludes him- even though the words are there in his mind, his miserable vision- plus the late hour and the fading light leads to just a few short sentences. He hates it.]

[PUBLIC]
woke up,

everything looked red

it ' s slightly disorienting. everything sort of smells the same but
- some places finally don't reek like they usually do.

some people, too.
i think i could apprecia_te this for a week or t^wo two.

[PRIVATE TO PIXIE]
think you could spare me a visit, miss pixie?

I'm not sure how they can never decide how long these celebrations are to last. As much as I enjoy the company of my customers giving them deals on drinks that last as long as the celebration can hurt the pocket.