Uncrowned

Give me a number, and I will describe the physical characteristics of my character expressing it. NO DIALOGUE. Descriptors only! (Feel free to add to this list if reposting)

Anger

Happiness

Intense thought

Boredom

Lust

Hatred

Joy

Frustration

Embarrassment

Shame

Horror

Name: Alice Age: 16

…Impossible.

Yet not impossible, for the scientists of Hive City had brought him back and given him a body, leaving not even a scar for where B-Rabbiit’s scythe had cut through him. If such a thing were possible, then there was no reason stopping them from bringing anyone else back, be it Jack, Levi, or even her.

Lacie.

She was beautiful as she’d ever been with the same dark hair, the same red eyes, the same light voice, and the same delicate fingers smoothing out his clothes. This was no carbon copy of his sister, no replica made through whatever sorcery the scientists had managed to employ; this was… truly her. Not running through the streets of Sablier, not relaxing in the gardens of the Baskerville manor, not kneeling before him to await Jabberwock’s chains, but here—with him, in the middle of Hive City.

Her chiding comments had no refuge in his mind; all that remained was simply his name.

Really, Oswald.

Oswald.

Oswald.

How long had it been since he’d last heard that name? A century—no, a little more than that. He’d been Oswald when Lacie was still alive, when his shoulders knew the burden of expectation but not responsibility. He’d been Oswald when he was not yet Glen, and with the title took also a duty best befitting someone as cursed as he was. It’d made sense to him and continued to do so still; he was cursed already, wasn’t he? Born as the incarnation of misery, his fate set in stone with the very first breath he took. It seemed only fitting to have such an individual be the sacrificial lamb to suffer so that everyone else could be safe.

(What had he to lose but the sister he’d condemned?)

"…Lacie."

He’d meant to speak her name in a normal tone—leveled, calm, and controlled. What it sounds like instead is something much tighter,and more strained.

(Oswald could feel it—each individual beat of his heart, pounding underneath his chest; it hurt, as if it was fighting to escape the very confines of his flesh because it did not belong there. Not anymore. Not for over a hundred years. And yet…)

Slowly, Oswald reached up to skim his fingers over her hand, hovering and uncertain. She was warm. She was real.

And for a moment—just a moment, fleeting and brief—as Oswald took hold of her hand, grasped it tight and held it against his chest, it felt like he was exactly what she’d called him. Oswald. Not Glen Baskerville.

"I’ve…"

I’ve missed you.

When he speaks her name, she gives him a smile, one that is filled with understanding. She is not supposed to be alive and can vaguely guess what is going on in that mind of his. Her brother’s hand is warm and comforting, and she grasps the hand that holds hers in return. Beneath it, she can feel his heartbeat. 

They are both alive and well and really that’s all that could ever matter to her. 

“I’ve missed you too, brother.” She states. Lacie knows Oswald better than he knows himself sometimes, and that she was sure of. That’s why he didn’t need to even halfway finish his sentence before she knew what he was going to say. They might as well be twins, but he’s older and will always be the older one.  

The smile she wears turns into something that seems tired yet relieved, maybe even a little sad. She gave many sad smiles because her fate was a sad one that could not be avoided. However, she grew up just as happy as she had been sad, so it’s okay really. Sadness was something that often border-lined loneliness, and she was never a fan of either, even at young age. That’s why she sought the comfort of the Abyss when she was small and no one would be around to keep her company. Though she always said she was keeping the Core from getting too lonely, but it was the other way as well most of the time. 

A sigh is exhaled, and she allows herself to get closer to the older. Hands still held, Lacie drops her head on his shoulder like she used to do often when they were young, shifting her head so her cheeks rests on his shoulder. 

“I’ve been here a few months shy of a year, and dead for I don’t even know how long. I’m sorry I left you alone for so long. It couldn't be helped though.”

She had always known how much her brother beat himself up over their circumstance. How she was born the way she was and the fact that she died. Lacie never blamed him for any of those things and often told him not to blame himself, but he's stubborn just like she is. Their fate was already mapped out probably before they were even born; tragedy etched into their bones and laced their every breath before they were even aware of their respected roles. 

Why something nice is done for her and everyone else living her is strange to her anyway. Why would they allow that? They aren’t kind people and Alice knows that and she knows if she can trust someone or not and the answer was more than clear. But she wants to know how it works. It sounds so weird to her, so unbelievable that it is possible just like that and she wonders how many others are stupid enough to believe that.  She doesn’t even have a lot time to really take a look at what is happening because soon enough she is approached by her. 

"But.." Alice already starts to reply, but then stops and just blankly looks at her. Her immediate thought had been to say no, that it is silly to return to a place where they couldn’t stay anyway and that she could just tell her what she wants her to know, but..

There wouldn’t be a chance like that again. And she wants to know about her mother. She wants to know more about her, she wants to know what family is and she is so, so curious about what kind of person Lacie even is. 

"It’s not that I know that much about you anyway, so there are a lot things you could show me, I guess?" She forgets about her worries about everything being some weird trap for a bit. Her gaze wanders instead, stopping at.. that way to their world and for a moment she allows her eyes to rest on it before looking back at Lacie.

“Of course I could show you lots of things.” She agrees with a breathy laugh. “My life, albeit short, was a rather exciting one if I do say so myself.” She never allowed herself to get bored, at least not for extended periods of time. There was too much to do, and not enough time to sit idle and twiddle her thumbs – or waste time at lessons at boring things like math for that matter. 

At the younger’s last statement, Lacie blinks but then shrugs her shoulders. “We’ll see when we get there I suppose. It’s a risk we might have to take, but my curiously is getting the better of me.” The noble had never been one to worry about risks, both because she didn’t want to miss anything and because she honestly didn’t care. Her stubborn and slightly defiant demeanor always had a part in it as well.  “If something goes wrong, you can blame me if that would make you feel better about tagging along.”

Deeming that compromise satisfactory, she doesn’t wait for an answer and instead gently grips the child’s wrist. Lacie walks through the tear, daughter in tow. The other side draws forth feelings of nostalgia in her. Everything in her tower is there like she left it: same furniture, same stack of books in the corner, same stuffed black rabbit sitting there innocently. 

It’s nice. 

“Was this your room as well?” she wonders out loud, briefly glancing back at the girl before releasing her and returning her gaze back around the room. “I never saw why I was stuck here, so secluded from the rest. Well I could see since I was a Child of Misfortune, but the other members of the family were okay with that. Then again, I barely spoke to the other members unless I was bored. We rarely held social events too, and even then I rarely attended them for very long.I grew tired of people gaping at me like I was some exotic creature and not a human being, though I doubt I was often considered on. A normal human I mean.” 

The elder Baskerville sighs and shrugs, walking over to the couch she spent many days sleeping on. She retrieves the red garment draped over the back, returning to stand in front of her child. “Wear this. It’s mine, but I rarely ever wore it.” Thin digits fasten the red cloak in place, adjusting it on the child’s shoulders so it looks neat. “I’m not sure how this place works, but if anyone asks who you are, you could just say you’re one of the members in training. We’re not a family built on blood relation, so it has a strong chance of working.”

It was a stupid idea. Something g so ridiculous to be given the chance to go and see your own home. To some it will be heartwarming. For something like this, for this chance to Leo, why on earth would he ever want to go back to his own home world? What was there to return to, but pain and misery? Only a masochist human being would take advantage of feeling such heartache. To see the home of where you can never return to.

Leo sat at his usual spot in the library, ignoring those who hose to see what lies in their home. They were foolish. They should know what is to come of then if they were to leave this city and come back to their home. However, he must admit that they were brave to take on the pain and hardship that was to befall them all in time.

A small noise caught Leo’s attention, to actually look up from his book. A portal stood before him. He could not believe it, that something like this would ever appear before him, after the mental denials he yell to himself. Staring into it, was a site his memories did not recognize, but something else within him did. He wasn’t sure why such a high class mansion appear before him. A home he had never seen, but someone has.

‘Go’ 

A voice whisper in his head, causing Leo to bring his hands over his ear.

“Shut up! I don’t want to hear anything coming from you.”

‘You will enter this portal. You will finally come to understand everything. Listen to what I say and do it.’

"Just shut up!" Leo close his eyes, not caring who was around to hear him yell at himself. Most onlookers would think he was crazy. However, to Leo, he was just upset with the voice speaking to him. "I don’t want to hear another damn word for you! I’ll keep building walls around me until you leave me alone. I won’t stop pushing you away. Do you hear me! … Why don’t you respond now…" As Leo began to mumble to himself, he slowly open his eyes to see, to his surprise, that he was not in Hive City’s Library. He was in that vision that had appear before him. He was in a new room, a strange room, a place he didn’t understand.

After the realization sunk in, Leo clench his hair, closing his eyes tightly, not able to understand what he was doing here. "Why… tell me why! Why did you bring me here! What is it you want me to see!"

'I want you to understand something. Why I need to go back to this time, and change the past. Why you must accept Glen Baskerville. You will come to this understanding in time…'

She slips through a tear located in the library that pulls her, and it speaks of home and familiar stone paths and corridors. It probably wasn’t even hers to begin with, but she is reminded of the fact that some of the children here existed almost directly after her; she wouldn’t be surprised if it was one theirs. Hopefully, they wouldn’t mind her borrowing it. She’s just a little curious about things, and a curious Lacie always got her way, much like a stubborn child. 

The hallways are indeed familiar, and seeing them empty is a sight she is used to, but this emptiness doesn’t feel too right. Fingers trailing against the cold wall, does the female walk throughout the manor, shoes creating echoing steps as she goes. She keeps her eyes open and ears sharp to note any change, and her feet lead her wherever they deem is necessary. The Baskerville isn't really paying attention, but she has no worries about getting lost within the great expansion of the place. She knew ever visible and hidden nook and cranny this place had to offer, her getting lost would be downright impossible. 

She starts to hear a voice soon, muffled by distance and a door, and that causes her to become curious. The female edges towards it, not bothering to silence her steps as she does. The voice is not familiar at all, but this certain hallway is. Her brother’s room was located here, and the voice rings loudest from his room.

She enters without hesitation, red gaze settling on a boy in the corner. He was obviously the one shouting, and Lacie eyes him with slight curiosity. He seems interesting enough. 

Why was it that every time he was charged with a task, there were those who felt it necessary to get in his way? Ignorance and arrogance only went so far before they became unacceptable excuses, and even Oswald—patient as he was—found himself growing wary of the constant interruptions to his duty. But, he supposed, this was different—much, much different, and in ways that he couldn’t even begin to describe.

Just how had they managed to capture him? He didn’t recall any battle, nor anyone even remotely suspicious approaching him. All he knew was that he’d went through the Gates of the Abyss, but rather than finding himself in the Abyss at all, he was… here. Hive City.

Even as he looked around, Oswald saw nothing familiar. The people were all strangers dressed in a variety of foreign garbs, and the buildings were designed in ways he’d never even dreamt about. But surely, he could not have been the only one to have somehow been taken here—and in his own body, no less, feeling just as it had before meeting the edge of Jack’s blade.

…Well, regardless of whether or not he was, he’d accomplish little by simply standing in place. There was clearly much to learn before he could ascertain any method of return, and the sooner he got to that, the better. However, as soon as Oswald turned, he felt himself collide into someone.

The Baskerville is just increasingly bored, and escaping to the world outside her apartment seems like the best option. She has high hopes for today.

Like always, the streets are crowded, but she fairs well enough. It’s not like she’s in much of a rush to get anywhere, so she doesn’t mind slowing down occasionally to let someone past. Her normally impatient nature is well in check today, and she is proud of herself. However, she does gravitate towards the lesser crowded areas just because her patience can only last so long. 

This is a big city, with numbers of people, so the Baskerville should expect things. Sadly, she does not expect to run into someone, perhaps because it was incredibly cliché and common in places like these. No one ever really can tell when it’s going to happen. Either way, she doesn’t care because it didn’t send her sprawling to the ground; she was made of tougher stuff. 

The voice that speaks the apology does gain a reaction from her. She is shocked at first, but that only last for a small heartbeat before a smile curls the edges of her lips and her head rises to meet the other. 

// Good evening, Hive City. It’s come to the attention of some that this holiday season has started.. rather grim. There hasn’t truly been any sort of merriment or revelry to be had by all. So let’s change that, shall we?

On Saturday December fourteenth, a large ball will be held in this city, courteous of Prince Edward. This is a very formal event, everyone is expected to wear their best. Invitations will be sent out and are required to gain entry. Upon arrival, guests will be given a blue ribbon to tie around their wrists as both a memento and a means to show you may come and go as you please.

This city has seemed to sap the joy out of it’s residents, spend an evening enjoying yourselves and simply being happy. We hope to see you all in attendance.//

—-

[[Alright, people, here’s the deal. This city’s been sad as hell because of the latest event and I think it’s time to have some fun, so here’s what’s gonna happen. Reblog this post once, just once, and your reblog will count for an RSVP of sorts. Once you’ve reblogged this post, MAKE SURE YOUR SUBMIT BOX IS OPEN. You’ll be sent an invitation that way.

Obviously, not everyone’s going to be here on Saturday, so the next week of replies will count towards the ball. Just tag your open with #Citta winter ball or #Citta mini event. It’s not an official event, it’s just something fun to do for the holidays to get rid of the pain and sadness of breaking our muses for a while.