#marie01

Starter for @oh-arinkytinkytinky

These were the days that Cheshire loathed. He had grown accustomed to having his cat ears continuously visible on top of his head. And he was use to the tail that brushed up against his back as he desperately tried to hide it.

But this--this, fucking stupid cat form--was something he would never try to “get used to”. He hated the inferior feeling he experienced whenever someone loomed over him, their overly large shoes threatening to step on him. And he hated that this stupid, insolent form was a punishment. It was a reminder that he would only be some common house pet.

It made him feel like a joke.

As a literal cat, Cheshire scampered past the people and down one of Wonderland’s side streets. He had found it to be a haven of protection against the overwhelming people and noise. But when he arrived, Cheshire, reeled back in anger as his tail bristled.

@chasseuseartisane

It was rare for Simone to actually enjoy herself at a faire, but with her pockets filled with enough money to get her through the next few days and a filled stomach, even she couldn't keep the smile from her face as she watched one of the animal attractions. Occasionally, her eyes caught sight of a pickpocketer taking advantage of people's focus on the dancing monkey, picking out a few familiar faces among the lot. 

Before one of the thieves tried to get her as well, she moved on, ignoring the actors and the small gambling table with enough familiar faces there to know that there was not an honest game among them. Eventually she ended up at the items market, with a variety of treasures that would have once left her eager to take what she could and run like Fernand liked to do. Instead, she drifted around, looking for nothing in particular except something that might catch her fancy. 

It turned out to not be a what but a who that eventually caught her attention. Marie was working at a table, selling her wares to a couple women. Simone smiled at the familiar face and started toward her. She hadn't been able to thank her for the garments she had made for her, and to apologize for her ridiculous brother. She hoped he hadn't said anything embarrassing or possibly revealing of their cause. Simone could see an intelligence to her and she wouldn't put it pass her brother to ignore that for a set of pretty eyes. "Hello," she said once she got to her table, a small smile on her face. "How is your business fairing here?"

One of Charon’s eyes and ears on the streets had seen a woman call at Simone’s door, and her description had rung no bells for him. Curious and a little nervous – if she knew Simone, was she a major player that he had somehow missed? – he had decided to find her himself. It hadn’t been difficult; his eyes and ears had followed her to a seamstress’ stall, and if there is one thing Charon loves, it’s seamstress’ stalls. Not that he often has chance to visit them – he spends far too much time in the Court of Miracles to risk wearing any real finery. Reputation or not, beautiful clothes don’t last long among these people.

Not that he doesn’t own beautiful clothes. He owns many, and often wears them in the safety of his own home. He even owns some gowns that he wears on occasion, when he is feeling brave.

So Charon has saved up a stash enough to purchase something really charming, and he leaves his home with a spring in his step.

The stall was easy enough to find, and Charon approaches with some small degree of apprehension. The clothes, the bright colours, it excites him. He is nothing if not materialistic. There is a single woman behind the stall, pretty and mixed-race, and undoubtedly the one his eyes and ears had seen calling on Simone. When he first goes to look, there is a person picking among her wares, and when they see Charon, they don’t seem to recognise him. Outside of the Court of Miracles truly is a strange place, he thinks absently to himself.