w o n d e r l a n d.

“Wow, that’s….um, pretty cool?” Nibs suggested, wincing slightly. “I mean, to have a piece of history like that is what sounds cool, but it sucks that he never got his stuff.” Now that he thought about it, the name sounded just a tad familiar, as if he’d heard it somewhere else before. “You sure the guy’s dead, though? Maybe someone just got a wrong address and he’s, like, a next door neighbor or something.” Then again, no one else in their gated community went by that name. It was fairly posh. “Maybe no one even knows he’s dead. That’d suck.”

She shook her head. “These we addressed to my house. And everything was written so long ago.” She nodded her head. “Right? People could have thought he just went missing or ran away!? I would be so sad if people thought that about me. Not that running away doesn’t sound appealing....You know what I mean, right?”

maybe some recent events had been letting his guard slip — or maybe he was just going soft in his old age. your thirties will do that to you, he assumes. the michael bennett from five years ago would probably think twice about whether he wanted to stop and comfort a crying stranger on his way home from work, or go straight home to crack open some whiskey as soon as possible. maybe the michael bennett from present day would, too, if it weren’t for how weird things seemed to be lately. the realization had hit him — you never know what weird shit life can thrust upon you.

and so, he does stop for a moment, peering down at the girl as she sits there in her gloom. “what’s wrong, kid?” he asks, his tone curious. at her response, he can only give an awkward sigh as he begins to feel tense at the mention of grief. “mourning? sorry to hear it.” he says plainly, not too good at this whole sympathy thing. he figures he can sit down beside her for a moment to make sure she’s okay until someone comes to pick her up, assuming she’s on her way home from a funeral. so he does, but not before slipping off his leather jacket to place it on the rain-soaked bench, wishing to avoid dampening his slacks. it’s then that he’s stood against the autumn breeze in just his work uniform, complete with name tag which of course bares his much-loved nickname: ‘TRAMP’. 

The moment her eyes came across the man’s name tag two thoughts crossed her mind; the first was that she was talking to a ghost and this was a sign that she did in fact have a sixth sense. The second was that maybe she had things all wrong. But how could she know this Tramp was the Tramp? There could be other guys named Tramp. Perhaps this was a sign that she shouldn’t spend that money. Either way, she figured she could get some answers by playing a game. A few questions, feigning innocence; she could surely figure it out. It was just another puzzle to complete.

She stopped crying. It was surprisingly easy now that she had a new mission to accomplish. She dabbed her eyes like it required a little bit of effort and took a deep breath. “Thank you sir. It’s just so awful. I feel like I learned so much about this person and at the same time I never got to know him. He seemed like a good person...and like you he had the oddest name. No offense.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “And when I say his name was odd like yours I mean it was the exact same name. So I think it would help me so much if I could get to know you...as if I was getting to know him. If that makes any sense at all...”

When Sulley first caught a glimpse of the other, he turned his head in all different directions trying to find a camera crew. It was just… a little out of place. And then when he found no cameras several options went through his brain. He could leave the other quickly and quietly without disturbing the peace, or see what’s wrong. Naturally, he began walking towards her in hopes that he wasn’t interrupting anything seriously important. Alice had answered his question before he could ask it, though, and he nodded once.

“That… Makes sense,” he started, before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry for your loss… Are you sure you’re alright, though?”

“Oh, yes. I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking...” She took a deep breath. “It’s just so sad. To find these letters from parents who seem to love their son more than anything in the world only to never hear back? Can you imagine? What if their son thought they hated him? Forgot about him?”

SO, SHE chose to ignore everything. “ okay, that’s fuckin’ great, ” he mumbled with a shake of his head. he wasn’t sure why he expected any loyalty from the blonde, but this definitely hurt his ego a bit. “ what-fucking-ever alice. i’m done with you, ” he said with a sigh as he stood up. he’d already heard enough. “ this is fucking bullshit. ”

She wasn’t good at any of this, especially being dismissed. It drove her crazy when people were upset with her and she knew that if she wanted to keep Brett seated, she was going to have to admit she was wrong/ Another thing she sucked at. “Hey...wait..” She grabbed at his arm, knowing fully well that he was probably going to flinch away. “I....fucked up. Am still fucking up. Can we please talk. I don’t want you to be mad at me..”

It wasn’t the weirdest thing Michael had ever seen, really, but… it came close. As soon as he noticed her actually crying, though, his worrying gene seemed to take over. “Mourning of….. who?” he asked. He hadn’t heard anything around town, but then again who’s listening for the news of someone’s death? “Are you sure you’re alright? You’re not carrying ashes in that envelope, are you?” 

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Alice said, trying to smile for Michael. He was such a sweet guy. Alice didn’t want him to worry. “And no, I’m not carrying anyone’s ashes. Just their chance for a decent future that they will never get.”

it wasn’t unusual to find alice crying, the girl was a bit on the sensitive side. but her tears coupled with the dark outfit she was wearing piqued chesh’s curiosity. black didn’t really seem alice’s style. though her response as they came closer caused their head to cock to one side. “is that so?” they hummed. brushing pastel pink strands from their face. “and who, pray tell, are we mourning today, dear alice?” 

“A life lost too soon,” Alice sobbed, burying her head into their shoulder the moment they were close enough to hug. “It’s so sad. I’ve never felt a loss like this before. I didn’t know him...but I feel like I do. After the letters. Cheshire, why do good people die so young?”

For as much as Nibs enjoyed Alice’s company and valued their friendship, he was equally puzzled by most, if not all, of her peculiar habits. Perhaps that was why he loved spending time with her, since she brought a considerable amount of pizzazz and flare to his life. On days where he felt rather lonely, she was a welcome presence – and it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Nibs to seek her out. Now, however? Well, he was wondering if he should’ve just stood home.

“Man, that’s…that’s rough,” he awkwardly muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d never been particularly great with handling loss, due heavily in part to his own troubled past. It was easier to compartmentalize and stuff the tears away for the safety of his bedroom than get emotional in public. But this was Alice, and he couldn’t just leave her there to cry all alone. “Sorry if this is, uh, out of line, but who died?”

“Oh, you probably don’t know him. I don’t even know if your parents would know him. I haven’t been able to pin his age yet. But based on the name, I’m guessing that it was a long time ago...” She tightened her grip on the envelope. “His name was Tramp....Can you believe that? I’ve never met someone with such an unusual name...Poor lad. He never got his parent’s letters...or the money they sent.....I know this because I have all of it. It was sent to me, so...perhaps he used to live where I do? It’s all very sad and confusing, Nibs.”

Usually, Peter wouldn’t mind Alice. He never minded much of anything after all. He was much too busy wrapped up in his own ego, which was equivalent to the egos about thirty other residents in town. Of course, now that Alice was his landlord, things were a bit different. She was some sort of sister to him now….someone who had found him when he was needing a little extra magic. 

A found…..sister…..it almost had a certain ring to it….

With a slapstick grin wide enough to bring pain to one’s cheeks, Peter swung an arm around his new found sister. “Alice, I’d never not mind you,” he wasn’t entirely sure if that was the right wording, but he also wasn’t sure if she would really notice either, “you’re my family now, we must stick together…..duh. Why are you in mourning though? Is it because I finished off the bread this morning? I’m real sorry about that. I was trying to make both of us breakfast and well….your toaster is pretty powerful. I burnt about six slices….which left me with only two and by the time I had figured out the settings I was really starving so I just had it for myself.”

Peter paused, brows knit in confusion, “wait, what’s that you got in your hands?”

Alice would have laughed if it was appropriate. Peter was such an odd character. She was used to odd, but his odd was different. Still, she was happy to keep him company. He seemed to need it more than most people. And since Cheshire liked to keep their distance...it was nice to be wanted.

“Oh dear,” she said before dabbing her eyes again. “The bread is a minor loss today. Today we are mourning something much more important.” She rested her head on his shoulder, taking advantage of the lack of personal space. “Today I received letters about a boy. He sounded like a sweet guy but these letters are so....There’s no way they are recent. What if his parents never knew he died? It’s just so sad...So I’m mourning for them.”

She glanced at the envelope in her hands. “Oh this? It was for the boy who died....It’s...Oh I don’t know if I should tell you.”

She dressed in all black. If no one was going to mourn him, Alice would. She carried a handkerchief to dab her eyes and the  envelope that came with the letters close to her chest. It was a heavy burden, trying to figure out what to do with it. But she supposed she would figure it out soon enough. She stopped when someone noticed her tears and dabbed at her eyes again. “Good evening. Don’t mind me, I am in mourning.”

HEADCANON MEME! SEND ME A SYMBOL AND I’LL TELL YOU…

★: a wish my muse has

Alice’s biggest wish is to never get old. She is terrified of having to mature and deal with adult problems and if she was offered poison before her twenty-fifth birthday she would drink it. So it is safe to say she wants to be young forever.

☂: what my muse does on a rainy day

Alice has two moods when it rains: One is to stay inside and sit by a window. On days like that she likes to reflect on things and think about her future. The other mood is running outside and dancing in it. She doesn’t care if she gets sick and her only goal is to enjoy nature.

♏: something my muse obsesses over

Puzzles. She knows she sounds like an old lady whenever she gets going about it, but the girl loves herself a good puzzle. Crossword puzzles are especially a favorite because she likes words and she likes learning about new words through her puzzles.

“You. You are blondie. Due to your blonde hair and all. Let’s not play games right now. Me, not a friend or family to you? That’s hurtful Alice. Come on, give me the goods.”

“My hair is blonde? Weird. I thought it was black. Guess we see differently.” She thought about it for a moment. “Goods are only good when it’s made good. Which I am capable of. But. You seem to only want the goods when you’re in the mood to be bad. Or is it to feel good? Hm. I guess I can help you.”

☺: three things that make my muse happy

☻: three things that make my muse sad

✝: any religious beliefs my muse has

☎ : my muse's ringtone

♫: three of my muse's favorite songs

♪: three songs that remind me of my muse

★: a wish my muse has

☑: something my muse has accomplished that they're proud of

☢: something my muse is afraid of

☂: what my muse does on a rainy day

→: is my muse any good with directions?

☮: is my muse a happy person?

웃: three people that are important to my muse

☃: does my muse like the holidays?

☯: is my muse more idealistic or cynical?

▲: my muse's happiest memory

✄: is my muse creative?

⌘: was my muse good in school?

✿: is my muse an outdoors person?

♈: the most daring thing your muse has ever done

♉: is my muse prone to jealousy?

♊: is my muse smart?

♋: is my muse emotional?

♌: three things my muse is enthusiastic about

♍: is my muse shy?

♎: is my muse vain or cocky?

♏: something my muse obsesses over

♐: is my muse blunt or do they beat around the bush?

♑: is my muse an optimist or a pessimist?

♒: is my muse emotional or more detached?

Brown eyes scanned over the blonde. Their features were completely different, in no way, shape, or form looking related, “it’s crazy enough that it just might work,” Peter chuckled, a mischievous grin daring to make an appearance. Moving to stand next to the girl, Peter reached out for his phone and swiped to the camera feature, quickly tapping the screen to face them, “come closer, we need a picture to put in the hallway.”

“Do you want to borrow one of my dad’s suits first? So you can really confuse them on when the picture was taken.” Her parents neglect was legendary and if they actually did glance at this picture, she would be very shocked. Still she took a step closer to him. “Say button!”

AS FUN as these small conversational trips were, binky couldn’t imagine getting zero sleep. at least half of his day was dedicated to sleeping, so it was a good thing he could reach out to alice whenever he was in the mood to not think straight ( not that his mind was ever where it was supposed to be ). “ i mean, i’d assume it would. but dude, languages are pretty fuckin’ weird, right? didn’t they like, all start from another language? ” binky clearly wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. “ what else is going on in that pretty blonde head of yours? ”

On a normal day, Alice was pretty good at keeping her composure. Hearing Binky call her head pretty seemed to be her downfall. She giggled, truly giggled, at him even though she knew some of the things he did say were not the brightest. She didn’t care when it came down to it. “Languages are so weird...” she repeated. Words were failing her. “Umm...a lot of stuff....” Intellectual as always. “Y’know....weird stuff.”