Alice thinks everyone has a Wonderland (offinherhead) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-11-20 01:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, alice liddell, ariel (the little mermaid) |
Who: Alice and Ariel
What: Alice looks for a present for Aveline
Where: Ariel’s Shop
When: Today!
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13!
On the weekends, Ariel worked at the family shop according to the arrangement she had made with her father. He still saw her attending college as something he was allowing her to do, rather than something Ariel had taken upon herself to see done. But she had become a master juggler, in a way. The past months of running between class to her internship at the Maria Ellis modeling agency and the curiosity shop had transformed her into a much more focused thinker -- there was never any room for a misstep. She was, however, a much thinner, much more tired version of herself these days.
And she always made sure to leave out the part about living at Nemo’s house.
Even though it had shrunk, Hatter's hat was a bit too big for Alice's head, but she didn't mind. If she ignored the events after the fire, she could still remember Hatter as he had been before he'd been twisted, like all of Wonderland. Clockwerk Hatters and mangy old Cheshire cats.....at least the only cat was Dinah on her shoulder.
She'd found a sheathe for the vorpal blade, and carried it in a pack on her back. One never knew when she might run into a Jabberwocky, after all, or an army of card knights. So it was best to be prepared.
It amused Alice, that thought. She'd nearly lost her mind in recent months, as Wonderland, old London and Orange County had all seemed to merge in her mind's eye. But with the blade firmly on her person, she felt a little more herself. A little more Alice.
And what does it say about Alice that she needs a knife to be herself? Cheshire whispered in her ear. Dinah's ears twitched, but she continued to nap around Alice's neck.
Alice, for her part, did her best to ignore Cheshire. She hadn't heard from him in a month, why did he show his grin now?
The bus had taken her down towards the sea today, and she walked along the beach.
Just because Ariel was the one running the shop didn’t mean that business was booming. Her father had hired someone to work weekdays, a middle-aged woman with a penchant for oniony sandwiches. The smell was less than welcoming. Quietly -- everything with her was quiet -- she blamed the woman for creating a less-than-friendly atmosphere and sprayed Febreze into the air from her station at the register.
She eyed the girl who passed the front window wearing a funny hat and a cat like a scarf with an amused smile.
The smell of onions and Febreze wafted out of a little shop, and Alice paused. She tilted her head, thinking that that wasn't the most pleasant of smells. So what does she do but walk into the store and peer around.
"Curious. You don't sell onions."
Ariel knew it wasn’t a question, but she shook her head anyway and rolled her eyes to express her own dissatisfaction with the smell. A thorough explanation was too complicated to convey with gestures alone.
Ffffft! went the bottle of Febreze, like it was blowing a raspberry.
Dinah sneezed, then lifted her head and gave a great lioness yawn. She promptly hid her head in Alice's hair to get away from the smells. Alice reached up and stroked the top of her head. She adjusted Hatter's hat while she was at it.
"I feel like I stepped back into the fifties."
This, Ariel did not take as a compliment, but it was something a lot of people said during their first impressions of the shop that she had learned to smile and nod anyway. The things in the front: retro party supplies with housewives complaining about their lives, clocks with old TV characters, costume jewelry... Those were all things to lure people into the store. Bait. The real treasures were a little deeper in, but most people had trouble seeing past the silly stuff in the front.
"It's not a bad look. I prefer Victorian more myself. Personal reasons." Alice continued to talk.
Those Victorian houses were so pretty, but we know what goes on behind closed doors, don't we Alice?
She glanced to her left, glaring at something, but the only thing in her line of sight was an old clock.
At this juncture, Ariel took it upon herself to pull a pad of paper and a pen from a drawer by the register and began to write on it with her loopy, almost bubbly handwriting. Just so you know, I am unable to speak. I’m not trying to be rude by not responding.
She tore of the page and held it out across the counter. She waved it in the air so that the girl would know to take it.
Alice took the paper and peered at it. Then she looked at the girl. She'd learned British Sign Language in the asylum, largely as an effort to communicate with some of the other inmates, but it wouldn't really help here. Besides the girl was mute and not deaf, and even if Ariel knew ASL, Alice didn't.
"Fair enough, love. Do you have anything..medieval?”
Ariel raised one of the faint, strawberry eyebrows. Medieval? she mouthed. It was... possible. Like what? she wrote on a new page of the pad.
"I have a friend." Alice said, tilting her head to watch Ariel write. "She's the knighty sort. Protective, has a shield and everything. I think she could use some cheering up."
Well, it was at least something to guide their search: something for a girl with a shield. Ariel searched the inventory in her brain. She knew everything in the store, but there were a lot of things and it was very cluttered. Onion Lady had lousy organization skills, but her father didn’t seem to care so long as there was a body at the register.
Whatever they were going to find, it wasn’t going to be among the plastic novelty swizzle sticks and faux leather purses. Ariel turned on her heels and started for the back of the shop, beckoning the girl with the cat and the funny hat to follow.
Alice followed, Dinah mewling softly her discontent at going deeper into this smelly store. "Hush, it's not that bad, and she's quite pleasant."
Ariel was too focused to notice Alice speaking to the cat. She tended to lose track of things like time and people when she was hunting for a treasure.
They came to a display of broaches and other larger pieces of jewelry. Nothing precious, but definitely a step up from the costume stuff in the front -- not that those were pieces of junk, either. It all depended on your point of view. Everything had a use.
She pulled out a display of crest pins. Most of them were clearly of British origin, but others were harder to identify. Some of them were quite large. All of them were noble-looking.
"Oh..those are beautiful." Alice peered at the pins. She was looking for something just so. Something that screamed Aveline. There was one that was vaguely French, and it seemed to speak to her. "Oh, this one is perfect."
Ariel picked up the one the girl had pointed out. It was probably the prettiest of the group, in some ways the most unique. Either the girl or the gift recipient had very good taste.
"I hope it suits her. She's very practical, but it reminds me of her anyway. It's rather hard to explain." Alice clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth on her heels.
Ariel had left behind her pad and pen at the register, so she shrugged and motioned for the girl to follow her back there.
Alice followed her, skirts swishing as she moved. "Is it strange, being silent in a loud world like this?"
Though her back was to the girl, the expression of consideration on Ariel’s face was very exaggerated. It wasn’t until they were back at the counter that she addressed her. Ariel picked up the pad a wrote a simple, No. Then she added, But it’s not always easy.
"I understand." Alice replied. "Sometimes I can't even speak as who I really am. You might have an advantage." She tapped the paper. "More time to think about what you want to say."
Well, Ariel wrote. I rarely have regrets about saying the wrong thing. She felt cut off from most of the world, but she also recognized that her situation made her unique, and there were people with far worse problems.
Who are you, by the way? What’s your name? she asked.
"Alice. I'm Alice. What's your name?"
Ariel.
"A pretty name for a pretty bird. With pretty pensmanship." Alice replied. She smiled at Ariel. "A names are the best names."
Ariel smirked. It would have been more of a giggle if she could make a sound. She punched a few numbers on the register with her long, nimble fingers; she had artistic hands that sometimes looked like they were swimming through the air. What’s your friend’s name? she asked, intending to put it on a business card she’d slip inside the shopping bag.
"Aveline Vallen." Alice pulled out a small purse shaped like a pink flamingo, and took out some money.
Ariel’s giggle would have been a bright laugh them. Her eyes lit up. Another A name! How funny!
The name was written on the card and money was exchanged.
And the cat? Ariel asked.
Her laugh is silent like the sea Cheshire said in her ear. She reached up and stroked Dinah's ears. "Dinah."
Ariel frowned, wrinkling her nose at the cat. Not every name could be a winner, she supposed.