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Laura Riddle

"We're all mad here."

0 · 693 views · located in Wonderland Academy

a character in “A Twist in Wonderland”, originally authored by ibecameinsane, as played by Kura Ravengade

Description

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Only a few find the way; some don't recognize it when they do; some don't ever want to.







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Full Name

Laura Grace Riddle
||Her name is unknown by her fellow students||

Nicknames

Chess
||Everyone, even those employed to the school, call her this||


Sexuality

Heterosexual

Role

Cheshire Cat

Club

She remains neutral

Ethnicity/Nationality

Born in London || Of Scottish descent

Age

Seventeen

Height/Weight

5'5 || 110 lbs





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Mental Disorder



Her mental disorder seems to be classified. The psychologists that diagnosed her seem to think she has some form of depression. It's a severe case that, left unchecked, could result in her death. She's already caused harm to herself, and a few orderlies that tried to get her to take her medication. The doctors are also starting to believe that her depression has sent her spiraling into madness; she may be developing a slight case of Schizophrenia.


Danger Level



The professionals at the school have decided that she is of no threat to others. She is more a threat to herself than anyone else. In fact, her only incident was once with a few orderlies who tried to force her to take her medicine. Unprovoked she is harmless, and she willingly takes her anti-depressants when she is sinking lower into her misery than normal.


Oddity



Chess has this inane ability to vanish, seemingly without a trace. She moves throughout the school with ease and appears to know the layout of the establishment better than most of its employees. It is believed that she can pick locks, enabling her to slip into closed off areas to hide away. And, despite her melancholy demeanor, she seems to possess a very good sense of humorβ€”however, very dark.





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Physical Description



Chess is known to have wavy, dark chocolate hair with natural auburn highlightsβ€”derived from her Scottish blood line. Her bedroom eyes are predominantly mocha with speckles of amber in its depths. Her alabaster face is delicate, immaculate and her prominent cheekbones help shape her cherubic face. She's only slightly curvaceous and lean, with lithe limbs and a memorizing grace. But her skin is marred by numerous self-inflicted wounds on the inside of her wrist and burns scars on her right hip and down her right leg. She harbors a tattoo on her left shoulder blade. She has no piercings.


Personality



Chess is quite the anomaly. nearly always speaking in riddles. That is, if she speaks at all. She tends to fade into the background with incredible ease. She's sarcastic and pessimistic in even the best of times, but always has a joke or pun for the situation at hand. She's very quick witted and realistic, opting to be an introvert rather than socialize with the students at the academy. She could never be considered naive or an open book. Chess doesn't trust people easily. It's a blessing and a curse, in a way. True she never gets hurt, but the high walls she builds around herself keep her from making any real friends. It takes a lot to make her genuinely happy, and most people aren't willing to put forth the effort. Her dominate emotional could more accurately be described as apathetic.


Likes||Dislikes



Chess adores riddles. She speaks in them more often than not on a daily basis. She hates ignorance and will most likely shun you if you suffer from intellectual ineptitude. She loves literature and despises poor grammar; you could say she's a bit of a Grammar Nazi when it comes to the issue. She displays a soft spot for animals, though it's very well known that she prefers a domestic feline over any other.


Hobbies



Whenever she finds alone time, Chess will seclude herself in the Music Hall and play the grand piano. Only when she's not roaming the grounds. She's a gifted pianist, and is considered a virtuoso. She's able to listen to any song and play it on the piano with incredible ease. She enjoys the leisure of a simple stroll and spends most of her day writing music while sitting one of the trees outside of the school.


Keepsakes


  • Her parents' wedding rings
    ||Which she keeps on a chain around her neck||
  • A book of sheet music she composed





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History of the Character



Chess was born in Berkshire, London and was more or less the happiest little girl you had ever seen. She was an only child given to a loving family who considered her a miracle because the mother was deemed unable to have children. They coddled her, nurtured her, spoiled her without tainting her good nature. You would've never suspected her to have gone off the deep end the way she did. But when a house fire took her family from her at the tender age of nine, her mental stability shattered. She was hospitalized with severe burns and sat for five years in a coma recovering in an intensive care unit whilst they treated her burns. She was given her parent's wedding rings, the only thing that survived the fire, and in her grief she was sent spiraling into madness. They transported her to the psych ward where she was treated for her psychiatric distress. When she was mentally stable enough to be integrated into society, she took the initiative to get caught up on her schooling, taking an aptitude test that placed her amongst teens her own age despite having had a lack of education. Soon, after discovering her remarkable intelligence despite her mental instability, they enrolled her into the Academy for her sophomore year. She's a senior now, and though they'd hoped her condition would improve, she doesn't seem to have any will to live.


Theme Songs



Chess, being the oddity that she is, simply cannot be described with lyrics. So, she's taken upon herself to share with you a few of her favorite classical music compositions that she feels best display who she is. Enjoy.









FaceClaim || Emma Watson

So begins...

Laura Riddle's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Malia Grace Russet Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Tarrant "Mad Hatter" Hightopp Character Portrait: Audrey Cassidy Bryant Character Portrait: Petra Mason Character Portrait: Sam Bryant
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"Now, make sure that you continue your studies. No slacking off, and if you get into any trouble, I'm having you shipped back here immediately."

A soft frown flitted across the young girl's face, and for a moment, she stared down at the box in her hands. When she turned her face upwards to look at her grandmother, she nodded slightly.

"I understand, grandmother," she said quietly, her fingers tightening slightly around the box, which held bubble-wrapped mementos from her childhood. The old woman held her chin high, attempting to look down her nose at the taller, younger girl and failing, yet succeeding in sending small chills down her spine.

"I sincerely hope you do, child. You know the consequences of not meeting my standards. Ensure that you keep up, or it's off to military school," she said stiffly, her knobby hands folded over one another.

Valerie looked at her, the woman that had taken care of her since she was eight, and on a sudden urge, placed the box on top of the limousine, her arms throwing around the frail woman.

"I'll miss you, grandmother. I'm ..." There were no amount of words that could express the emotions that she was feeling in that moment. Sorrow, joy, anxiety, nervousness, anticipation; they were all a jumbled mess together in the pit of her stomach, causing a butterfly-feeling of sorts deeply within. When she finally released her and turned away from the mansion that had become her home-away-from-home, she felt an odd sense of freedom, as if she were escaping some sort of a prison.

She had never felt more free then she did in that moment.





The drive across Europe was long and exhausting, and the ferry that she was to board and take across the Pacific Ocean was large and impressive; nothing less then what she expected her grandmother to do. The valet that had driven her assisted her in handing over her bags, most of which had already been sent to the Academy, the ones that she carried merely a couple of boxes that she had packed last minute, and her travel-on bag.

By the time she arrived in America, a day after she had left her grandmother's, she was more then ready to get settled in at the school and have a full-night's rest.

It was another two hours before Valerie reached the Academy's gates, and when she did, the window slid down and she leaned out, eager to breathe in the fresh air of the forest that surrounded it. By the time that they reached the front of the school, it was the middle of the school day, so around eleven o'clock in the morning, and a total of a day and a half after she had left.

The Head Dean of the school was there to greet her, having had received word of her arrival, and hastened to greet the young woman whose grandmother had donated a hefty amount of money, especially to get her in after the school year had begun. The forty-something-year-old woman gave her a brief tour of the campus using the map that had been emailed to Valerie. She explained how certain things worked around the campus, and then basically left the girl to find her merry way on her own. The driver who had brought her from the ferry and to the school bid her good-luck and then left, almost in a hurry it seemed, but with a slight shrug, she turned back to the school. Two teachers that had been standing with the Dean had already taken her things with them to her room, and she had been told that she was free to do whatever she wanted for the rest of the day - so long as it didn't break any rules, involve her leaving the campus, and that she didn't travel into the forest surrounding the campus.

With a slight shrug, she set off in search of food, figuring that perhaps there was some sort of lunch period going on at eleven-thirty in the afternoon.

After around twenty minutes of searching - and five times where she found herself lost - she managed to arrive at the cafeteria, a bit frazzled but none-the-worse-for-wear. Sadly, it was empty, and after further investigation - basically her asking when lunch was - she discovered that Lunch A had just concluded, and Lunch B would begin in ten minutes - at precisely noon. So there she settled in to wait, the Academy's cooks taking pity on her and allowing her to buy her lunch early. After eyeing the surprisingly-delicious looking Fettuccine Alfredo pasta, she nibbled on bits of chicken that had been tossed into the mixture, her intense blue eyes traversing the room, yet her head never moving.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Audrey Cassidy Bryant Character Portrait: Sam Bryant Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Dean Frasier
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β€œThis time, please try to obey the laws of physics, Mr. Frasier,” the teacher growled as Dean gently pried the assignment from her wrinkly hands.

β€œ β€˜Rules are meant to be broken’, madam! And laws as well, occasionally.”

β€œFrasier! Just you waitβ€”β€œ

But, Dean was already gone, slipping into the wave of juniors and seniors students making their way towards the cafeteria. Without looking at the paper in his hands, Dean shoved it into his bag. The sound of the paper crumbling was satisfying to Dean’s ears. If it had not been for the subject itself, Dean would have dropped this class immediately. Teachers, especially ones as dictatorial as the one who had handed him the paper, tended to rub him off the wrong way, and in return, Dean felt obliged to make their lives miserable.

Walking through the dense masses of students to the lunch room, Dean looked up quickly, gazing around above the heads of students. Satisfied that there were no teachers around, he lit a thin cigarette. Dean was grateful for the warm day as he walked down the window side of the hall, breathing out into the open air let in by open windows by teachers would be either too lazy or too hot to care about what he was doing. Reaching the end of the hallway, he snuffed it out before entering the large cafeteria, leaving a long trail of ash on the wall that he couldn’t care less about.

He wasn’t particularly hungry, and so stopped by the fruit bar, pushing through a few disgruntled students in line and grabbing an apple. He left hearing the exasperated sighs of students, who knew better than to push back when he pushed them around unless they wanted to embarrass themselves in front of their peers. As he walked to his usual seat, Dean noticed several students standing without food, talking animatedly. It looked like the leading siblings of the chess club, Sam and Audrey Bryant. Peering curiously past the two as he walked, Dean saw that they were speaking to an unfamiliar face. He frowned, moving slightly to the left to get a better luck. Must be a transfer, he reasoned to himself. Dean chose an empty table that was a bit closer to the girl, instead of the one he normally chose. He and Chess would normally meet up in the caf and sneak out to the trees just outside the forest. The sheer quantities of stupid in the room made them both twitchy and annoyed. This time, however, Dean hoped to find out more about this girl. Perhaps Chess would know something. He couldn’t imagine a reason as to how she could, but Chess had ways of surprising him. She’d done it before...

Dean hopped onto the table, planting his feet firmly on the seat of the chair in front of him. Taking a bite of the apple, he tapped his fingers softly on his knee, thinking about this mysterious new arrival.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Malia Grace Russet Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Tarrant "Mad Hatter" Hightopp Character Portrait: Audrey Cassidy Bryant Character Portrait: Petra Mason Character Portrait: Sam Bryant
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It was only five minutes after Valerie had settled in to eat when the bell rang. Needless to say, it scared the shit out of her. She nearly flung a carrot across the room in fright. She managed to calm her fast-racing heart, but it jumped into her throat as the swarm of students came. Her normal bravery disappeared, and she found herself ducking her head, attempting to use her blonde hair as some sort of a shield. It seemed to work - at first. And then she came.

Out of nowhere, she felt arms wrap around her body, nearly strangling her in their tight grip. A soft gasp escaped Val's lips, and her head was yanked to the girl's shoulder, where her chin came to rest.

"Jesus Christ," she wheezed, more stunned at the girl's strength then by the sudden hug that came out of nowhere.


"Hello! You look very new to me. Are you a transfer?" It seemed only then that the girl realized that she was invading her personal space, and finally released her. Valerie leaned back and drew in a breath, before letting it out slowly. "Oh my, I'm sorry if you didn't want to be hugged! I do it without thinking!"

"No, it's quite alright," Valerie said quietly, leaning back to catch her breath. She brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her eyes moved to the boy that had accompanied the girl, and making a fleeting note that he was extremely handsome, she turned her attention back to the girl. But it was only to return her gaze to the boy, who had begun introductions.

"Audrey ... My sister. I'm Sam. Welcome to Wonderland Academy." His smile was calming, and she felt herself relax. "Excuse me a minute, I'll be right back. I'll grab yours too Audrey." His hand touched his sister's shoulder before he took of at a surprisingly fast walk towards the foot lines, and she leaned forward a bit to stare after him.

Nice ass though ...

A soft blush rose to her cheeks as she only then realized that the girl, Audrey, was still sitting there. And she was his sister of all things. To have had such thoughts about the girl's brother right in front of her was terrible. She dropped back onto her seat again and looked at the other girl.

"My name is Valerie. Valerie Callinder. It's a pleasure to be of your acquaintance, Audrey. And of your brother's, but I will tell him that when he returns," she said with a smile, not bothering to conceal her accent, for when she attempted to, it only ended up growing thicker.

It was at that moment that a slightly-disturbing boy with extremely curly dark hair dropped down onto a table nearby - quite loudly, might she add - and propped his feet on a chair. That's a bit disrespectful ... It wasn't her business, however, and with a slight shrug, she turned back to the conversation at hand, which was with Audrey, and attempted to ignore the stare that she was receiving from the boy.

Once again, however, her attention was taken from Audrey and redirected to the next person to approach the table. Her neck was beginning to ache from turning her head so often, and she was growing annoyed with it. When she saw who had slammed their tray onto the table across from her, though, her annoyed state was dashed from her, and instead replaced with a joyous one that could not be swiped away by anything.

"Tarrant!?" she blinked, her eyes fluttering quickly in surprise. After the surprise had faded, a slow grin began to stretch across her face, and before she realized what she was doing, she had propped one foot on top of the seat she was currently using, and threw herself across the table. She had successfully ended up tackling Tarrant from his seat, but oddly enough, she didn't care. She was far too busy squealing with excitement.

"Tarrant, Tarrant, Tarrant!" she cried, her arms latched around his neck. "I've missed you, Mister Hatter!" she laughed, burying her face in his shoulder. She clung to him like that for several moments, before she leaned back and dropped onto the heels of her feet, finally releasing him. Her smile trembled a bit, however, as she helped him up and he introduced her to Audrey, whom she had already met and would undoubtedly be confused by the different names. Therefore, she spun on her heel to face the girl, a sheepish grin on her face.

"My sincerest apologies for the confusion, Audrey," she said, her accent causing a slight lilt to be heard when she spoke the name for the first time. "My name is Alice Valerie Callinder, but I prefer to go by Valerie. It's quite a long story, but I would great appreciate your kindness in calling me by my preferred name," she said quietly, her eyes glancing down.

She hadn't told Tarrant about Amanda yet, and hadn't planned to until ... Well ... Never, actually. But now that she was faced with seeing him day-in and day-out?

She had no choice but to tell him.

Her grin faded as a deep sorrow rose up in her and threatened to burst in what would be a tsunami of tears if she allowed it to release and free itself. But with what she considered a great deal of strength, she shoved it back and instead lifted her hand to reach for her ever-present necklaces. She drew them out from under her dress, holding both lockets in the palm of her hand.

"Amanda ... She's ..." A pause, for she was almost certain that she wouldn't be able to continue. After a trembling, deep breath, she wrapped her fingers around the lockets and rings, closed her eyes, and spit out the words in a quick breath.

"She's dead, Tarrant. Skilled killed herself two months ago. That's why ... That's why I'm here."

She turned away, her eyes tightly closed and her face oddly pale. Her lips were dry. She couldn't help it.

"I'm ... I'm sorry. If you'll excuse me," she said, her voice a raspy whisper. She turned and ducked around Tarrant, her boots making soft taps on the floor as she fled the room, her hand tight around the lockets. She rushed past Sam and a girl that was speaking to him, ducking her head so as to hide the faint tears that clung on her lashes, and practically threw herself through the doors. She didn't stop running until she felt a small twinge in her side, which was the side-affect of running so soon after she had ate. She leaned against a set of lockers, her hands on her knees as she bent over at the waist, and her eyes closed.

A sly, female voice tore her out of her attempt to catch her breath.

"And who might you be?"

Valerie jumped and stumbled back a few steps, her head darted from side to side. She turned in a complete circle, before finally looking up and spotting a girl who was currently lounging on top of the lockers.

"You should get down from there, doll, else you hurt yourself," she said, her brows drawn together.

"Oh, please ... And refer to me as Chess or Cheshire."

"I seem to fancy calling you Cheshire Puss more then Chess or Cheshire, for how could you have managed to climb those lockers unless you were as lithe as a cat? Also, would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," the girl replied.

"I don't much care where--' Valerie began.

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," the girl cut in.

"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Valerie concluded, so as to explain further.

"Oh, you're sure to do that, if you only walk long enough," the girl instructed lazily.

This was getting her nowhere, and Val could feel her frustrations rising. In an effort to calm herself, she held her breath, counted to ten, and let it out slowly before trying again. "What sort of people live about here?"

"In that direction," she motioned towards the cafeteria, "lives a Hatter." She couldn't possibly be talking about Tarrant ... Could she? "And in that direction, she motioned the way that Valerie had been heading, "Lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad."

They're both mad? Either she meant they were angry, or insane, bu there wasn't any way they could be either, and there was no way that she could know if both were angry in that moment. "But I don't want to go among mad people," she frowned, her brows drawing together.

"Oh, you can't help that," she chuckled, moving slightly to stretch. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

This was ridiculous. "How do you know I'm mad?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"You must be, or you wouldn't have come here." But it was a school, for crymony's sakes! Of course she would come here. It was a prestigious school for teenagers with her intellect. What did insanity have to do with any of it? What the girl had said did not prove the theory of madness in the least.

"And how do you know that you're mad?"

"To begin with, a dog's not mad. You grant that?"

"I ... I suppose so," Valerie answered cautiously.

"Well, then ... You see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."

"I call it purring, not growling," she pointed out, priding herself on being quite the smart ass, for it was true; the girl resembled a cat so entirely that it was almost frightening.

"Call it what you like."

The girl practically slinked away, a mysterious grin on her face.

"What the fuck ... Was that?" Her sorrow momentarily gone, she stared after the girl with an expression that was one of disbelief mixed with confusion and awe.

"What ... The fuck?"

With a shake of her head, she puffed out a breath and headed back in the direction of the cafeteria. When she returned, she was obviously embarrassed, but her tears had dried and she was calm once more. She did, however, approach the table that she had been sitting at before with a weariness that was obvious enough to cut with a knife.

"I'm ... I'm sorry about before," she said sheepishly, shifting her weight a bit. "I just can't help but grow upset when I think of my sister. It won't happen again," she said, sliding back into her seat. She plucked up her apple and held it out towards Tarrant with a grin. "Yours fell on the floor, you big oaf. You should be more careful with your food. After all these years, and I'm still picking up after and feeding you," she laughed, leaning across the table and press the apple between his teeth so that it stayed. She then leaned back and looked up at Sam and the girl from before as they approached the table, for she hadn't been gone long, but long enough for them to finish getting food for themselves and Audrey.

"Hello, my name is Valerie. It's a pleasure," she said, holding her hand out to the girl. She cast a wink at Sam after shaking the girl's hand, and then lowered herself back into her seat. "I am from Germany, but I lived her when I was younger. Is there any advice that you lot can give me about the school?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Harold Duffy Character Portrait: Laura Riddle
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Chess continued to stroke the adolescent feline as the lunch bell resonated off the walls in a loud, irritating drone. Hanging half way out of the window with her arm stretched out as her classmates filtered out of the room seemingly without noticing she was still there. She took comfort in the texture of the stray's fur, the slickness of it despite its lack of domesticity. The way the animal looked up at her as Chess continued her ministrations was almost heartwarmingβ€”its deep hazel eyes gazing up at her in trusting adoration. They reminded her solely of the golden-flecked green of Sam's eyes. With that thought she shook her head, almost aggressively. The cat took the hint and scampered away, vanishing into the underbrush of the forest.

"Tedious-..." She ground out, hoisting her bag over her shoulder before she swiftly exited the classroom. Her eyes met the face of the clock hanging up on the beige brick wall and she halted, becoming just as emotionless as the inanimate object gazing back at her. She was already fifteen minutes into lunch. She knew there was no point trying to eat now, it'd be much to crowded.

"Chess!" She heard her name called out, and she quickly turned to see Harold Duffy, The March Hare, being escorted down the hall by two burly orderlies. Her brow cocked in an attempt to conceal her concern. The orderlies paid her no mind and urged him forward, but she wouldn't show any emotion in front of the people that work here. When Harry was close enough to her he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. The orderlies pushed his aside, putting some distance between him and Chess. She watched him as they walked him forward, away from herβ€”towards the place she'd only been forced to go a handful or times, and where she never wanted to go again. "Here kitty, kitty!" he called over his shoulder. Chess's heart nearly broke as she heard his voice crack in fear, but she remained rooted to the spot. "Meow!"

She sighed when he and the orderlies were out of sight and moved towards the lockers, grasping the top edge with her fingertips before hoisting herself up, using the worn soles of her feet for traction. Chess smirked as she took a stroll on top of the metal compartments, moving with ease without any worry that they'd cave in under her weight. These were made of a thick metal and she was light on her feet. Luckily the ceilings were so high. This aforementioned thought never ceased to escape her attention when she wandered about the halls on top of the lockers.

Chess continued on until she heard an aggressive push and the loud shriek of old door hinges, redirecting her fleeting attention. A girl came rushing down the hall in Chess's direction, letting the doors slam shut behind her. Chess watched, having ceased her carefree stroll to get a good look at the newcomer. Yes, newcomerβ€”Chess had never seen this one before. And she knew every face in the school better than the one looking back at her in the mirror. Chess watched as the girl leaned against a set of lockers, her hands on her knees as she bent over at the waist, and her eyes closed. Apparently Chess had gone unnoticed because she was directly beneath her. Chess gently placed her bag down and sat cross legged on top of the lockers, peeking over the edge to try and get a better look at the strange girl.

And you know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.

"And who might you be?" Chess watched in mild amusement that only showed in her eyes as the girl jumped and stumbled back a few steps, her head darting from side to side. She turned in a complete circle, before finally looking up and meeting Chess's gaze. Chess watched, her eyes catching different emotions all at once. Confusion, suspicion, and a laden sadness kept hidden by her budding anxiety. Chess cocked a brow at her, tilting her head slightly to the side until the stranger took the initiative to answer her question.

"You should get down from there, doll, else you hurt yourself," The girl said, her brows drawn together.

Not really an answer to her question but it was a conversation starter. "Oh, please..." Chess gave a small role of her eyes before locking her gaze on the stranger, her attention never wavering. "And refer to me as Chess or Cheshire." she added, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I seem to fancy calling you Cheshire Puss more then Chess or Cheshire, for how could you have managed to climb those lockers unless you were as lithe as a cat? Also, would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

Chess cocked a smirk, replying swiftly, "That depends a good deal on where you want to get to."

"I don't much care where-..."

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go,"

"...-so long as I get SOMEWHERE," The girl concluded, so as to explain further.

"Oh, you're sure to do that, if you only walk long enough," Chess responded lazily, lounging on the top of the lockers because she found it far more comfortable than simply sitting there. The girl was getting frustrated, and Chess responded with a flight tilt of her head with a slightly cocked brow.

The girl took a breath and asked slowly, "What sort of people live about here?"

"In that direction," she motioned towards the cafeteria, "lives a Hatter. And in that direction," she motioned the way that the girl had been heading, "Lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad."

A bewildered expression adorned the blonde's pretty face and Chess's chin tilted up slightly in curiosity. She observed her inner struggle with a stoic boredom. "But I don't want to go among mad people," she frowned, her brows drawing together. Chess made a note of that change in expression.

"Oh, you can't help that," Chess chuckled in genuine amusement, moving slightly to stretch. "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" The blonde asked, her eyes narrowing.

Chess looked her incredulously, and responded in kind, "You must be, or you wouldn't have come here."

"And how do you know that you're mad?" The girl prodded.

And she thought about it, if only for a moment. But quickly Chess elaborated, "To begin with, a dog's not mad. You grant that?"

"I...I suppose so," she answered cautiously.

"Well, then-.... You see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."

"I call it purring, not growling," she pointed out, obviously taking pride in her own quick wit. Chess decided to let her have this one for now.

"Call it what you like." She said with a shrug and she slid down the rows of lockers before dropping, walking out the door towards the forest, the strap of her bag gripped firmly in her hand.

Chess pondered on the curious girl with sunshine hair and mulled over it, almost for too long. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt when she arrived to her favorite tree on the outskirts of the school grounds and she climbed it, stopping to relax on one of the middle branches. She pulled out her book of sheet music and turned to an empty staff, inspiration flooding through her fingertips as her felt-tip pen went to work. Chess worked frantically as an orchestra pushed past the barriers of her mind, seeping out onto the page. She hummed idly, craving the touch of the ivory keys on her finger tips like a drug.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Tarrant "Mad Hatter" Hightopp Character Portrait: Helena White Character Portrait: Meg Tharamel Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Dean Frasier
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Dean looked around impatiently. Where was that riddling companion of his? Could it be that she had gone already left to the woods without him? Turning back to where the students were surrounding the newcomer, Dean sighed in annoyance. The girl, though upon first impression was rather intriguing, now seemed very dully insane, and therefore not worth his time. As he turned, his now cored apple fell to the ground and rolled right at the feet of the demonic Queen herself. Dean had been so preoccupied with the girl, he hadn't noticed Meg and her posse entering the scene. She was approaching the guest at the table. Must be mad that she wasn't informed... Sneering, Dean stood up onto the chair. He was sure Chess could wait for him a little while longer. This was an opportunity he simply couldn't miss.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" Dean exclaimed loudly, parodying the shouts commonly made by Helena. He jumped off his chair gracefully, and swiftly moved in the opposite direction of the Gardening Club. He stopped only to stand behind the new girl and Tarrant.

"My lady, take heed," he said close to Alice's ear, "A burbling Jabberwock appears!"

The only thing standing between Dean and Meg was the table, and for that he was thoroughly grateful.

"You must beware. Her jaws bite, her claws snatch. You can see it in her flaming, frumious little eyes!"

Smirking once more at the megalomaniac, he turned to address the rest of the table. "Alas, I must be gone. A grinning cat and a tum tum tree await me."

A mirthless grin made it's way to Dean's face, and with that, he was gone. Part of him was worried that Meg might follow him, but he knew that she wouldn't, especially with something shiny and new in front of her. Pushing through the back doors of the school, he strolled to the tree. Noticing Chess in the branches, he quietly climbed up to her level. A silent hello was given with the nod of a head, and, after taking his bag off and hanging it, Dean slung downwards into his upside down position, hair falling forward. Reaching into his bag, he took out a lighter and a joint from a baggy. Lighting it up, he sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, relishing the shade of the tree and the soft humming of his companion.

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Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Dean Frasier
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Chess was heedless to her companion's arrival at first, too enraptured by the musical composition coming to life on the page. Her train of thought was only derailed after the harsh smell of marijuana scorched her nostrils. Her face scrunched up before she lifted her gaze, seeing her self-destrucctive friend hanging upside down on the branch in front of her. She sighed, putting away her book of sheet music and perching her duffle bag up against the trunk of the tree. Chess crawhled over to him, resting her rear on his shins as her lithe legs dangled on either side of him. Call her paranoid but she always felt antsy whenever he just hung upside down like that. She was always worried he might fall and break his neck.

A comfortable silence settled between them as Dean took several drags of his joint. Chess gazed up at the sky; supple white stretched across a gentle blue. In the shade of the tree is where she felt most content. Her curiosity fluttered towards his bag, wondering to herself if he'd brought her back any food. She rifled through it, closing her hand around an apple. A small smile adorned her face as she pulled it out and rubbed it on the front of her shirt before taking a bite. She chewed, mulling over the sweet taste, humming slightly in thanks that he'd remembered to pick her up one in the first placeβ€”and her favorite at that, the succulent Golden Delicious. Slowly her contented humming took on a steady rhythm, and she swallowed her bite her harmonious musings began to take shape into lyrics. Chess started to sing what she knew to be Dean's favorite lullaby.

"`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe: all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe. Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch! He took his vorpal sword in hand: long time the manxome foe he soughtβ€”so rested he by the Tumtum tree, and stood awhile in thought." She paused, letting her song wash over him as the drugs were undoubtedly beginning to take affect. She lowered the volume of her voice, singing with exuberance, "And, as in uffish thought he stood, the Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came. One, two. One, two. And through and through. The vorpal blade went snicker-snack. He left it dead, and with its head, he went galumphing back. And, has thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! He chortled in his joy." Chess smiled as she gazed down at her friend, singing the last stanza gently, "'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe; all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome raths outgrabe."

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Character Portrait: Harold Duffy Character Portrait: Laura Riddle
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"Now Mister Duffy-..." A tea pot shattered against the wall behind the orderly as he recovered from his quick duck for cover. The man looked up at the psychotic adolescent in front of him with a rush of anxiety fused adrenaline. Harold gave a hysteric laugh, one mimicking the octave of a young child. The orderly stood, holding his hand out towards the boy in an attempt to keep him calm as he approached. They were in the kitchen at lunch time, and yet again this mentally unstable youth had snuck his way in. "You know you aren't allowed in here. Just-...just come quietly and you can go have tea with your friends."

Harry's eyes snapped wide and his hand grasped the thin handle of a porcelain tea cup, launching it at the orderly as he cried out, β€œYou're late for tea!” The orderly succeeded in ducking out of the way in the nick of time, and Harry couldn't stifle the exuberant giggles that left him upon seeing this burly man's panicked dance. He rushed about the interior of the kitchen, dodging startled chiefs, cleaning ladies, and the like as he tossed random objects at the orderly just to watch him duck out of the way. He was in a state of euphoria, singing to himself as he pranced about, "Twinkle, twinkle little bat. How I wonder where you're at. Up above the world you fly, like a tea tray in the sky!" It was incredibly off pitch but that did nothing to deter him. He only paused when the door into the kitchen creaked open and two more orderlies piled in.

"Duffy! Put down that skillet!" The taller of the two new arrivals ordered. Harold grinned at them with a youthful gleam in his eyes, pausing to look at the cast iron skillet in his hand. He flung it at them, hitting the shorter orderly right smack dab in between the eyes with the edge of it. He went down just as Harold was grabbed from behind by the orderly he'd been chucking kitchen supplies at for the past fifteen minutes. The taller orderly rushed to his co-workers side as Harold began to struggle, laughing loudly in hysterics.

They escorted him out of the kitchen and Harry paused a moment to blow raspberries at the unconscious white-coated man with an obvious lump on his dome. He giggled and the orderlies shoved him forward, each leading him by an arm. He was led into the halls of the school, all too familiar with the path they were taking. There was a special place they put students who behaved like Harry often did. In a sectioned off area of the Academy, at the far back in the North part that faces the woods, there were padded rooms and rooms build for observation purposes. With how he'd acted, Harry was conscious enough in his insane mind to realize he'd probably be hugging himself here shortly.

Harold meandered down the halls with little care, approaching the Care of Small Animals class. Upon this realization he perked up, knowing exactly who had this class right before lunch. And when he saw her, he lit up in giddiness. "Chess!" He called out, watching the lonely girl turn to face him. Her brow cocked, masking a look of concern on her beautiful face. The orderlies paid her no mind and urged him forward. When Harry was close enough to her he leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. The orderlies pushed his aside, directing him to the padded room whilst putting some distance between him and the other student. "Here kitty, kitty!" he called over his shoulder, his happiness laden in some desperate plea, "Meow!"

He didn't see anyone else on his journey to the part of the Academy every student dreaded to go. His happiness shrunk in the face of anxiety and he began to twitch. The nurses opened the doors for them, handing the orderlies a straight jacket to restrain him in. Harry fought, a cold sweat forming at his brow as he began to kick in scream. He didn't like the padded roomβ€”the room of blinding white and soft cushiony walls. He cried out, "NO!" But they refused to listen. Once strapped in, they opened a padded cell and tossed him in locking the door behind them. He scrambled up, throwing himself against the door and screaming through the barred window, "Get me out, I'm going to be late!" An orderly approached the door, and slid the steel door across the window, sealing him in the room. Harry panicked. He couldn't see out of the room anymore, "Please! I don't want to be late for tea!" He cried out desperately, throwing himself up against the adjacent wall, sliding down onto the floor. He whimpered, rocking back and forth as he chanted pathetically, "Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick-..."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Malia Grace Russet Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Tarrant "Mad Hatter" Hightopp Character Portrait: Audrey Cassidy Bryant Character Portrait: Petra Mason Character Portrait: Sam Bryant
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At first it was a giggle, but then, as she saw the comicalness of the situation,the milk spilling down over her beautiful hair, the expression on her face that most likely meant 'You are so going to pay for that' ,she laughed loudly, the sound echoing a bit since people had stopped conversation to stare.
She started to clap in admiration, first slowly and then quicker as her laugh was the only thing to be heard ,and gradually,brave students started to clap along with her. She noted it would take a lot of willpower to clap so openly in Meg's face,except she just couldn't help herself!
"That was amazing!", she said between giggles. This was so funny! It was straight out of a teen television drama show. She wished other people were here, like Jamie or Dean,because they would probably react much worse than she was now.
'The Queen', a title which Audrey used sarcastically, as did most of her friends, was giving Valerie what one would call 'a death stare', and she wondered how 'The Queen' would get her revenge, and if she would still want Valerie to be in her club. Maybe she'd still want her, but Audrey did not frighten herself with the details of what she would do to attain such a follower.
She now had the information that Valerie wasn't some meek, only do-gooder, and she could insult someone deeply if she needed to, if her amusing words in German were any contender. As soon as Audrey stared at Meg again, it was impossible to restrain herself,so she took Sam's hand, which was protectively over her shoulder, and protected her eyes instead. Looking to her right, she picked some french fries from her tray and chewed on them so she wouldn't laugh again.
The girl was no longer overwhelmed. This new entertaining event had stripped her of thinking too heavily on her emotions to doing what she did best- act without thinking.She noticed Helena had tried to comfort her,and she was quite thankful her best friend had regarded her. So, before reaching for more food, she gave Helena's hand a squeeze. Tensions had seemed high before,but they probably had loosened up a bit. She remembered Sam and Tarrant coming to Alice's defense,which was very sweet and knightly of them, but she assumed it was in their nature,especially to a girl they obviously both liked. She had been rather taken aback by Sam's outburst but his putting his hand on her shoulder was a hint that he still had his composure.
Tarrant had had more of a peaceful approach, one that meant he didn't want trouble and they wouldn't get it if they just went away. She remembered the teen movie reference again, how the evil queen bee would approach the new girl, and then the new girl would show her merit by doing something awfully embarrassing to the queen, and all the guys liked her and the queen swore revenge, and then she laughed again on the similarity of the situation.
Whenever Audrey had done some prank or other on Meg, usually with Jaime at her aid, she liked to be discreet and then run.This was a courageous thing to do,especially to Meg, who had scary lackeys.
She gingerly lowered Sam's hand at this point, sure she could contain herself this time, and when she saw Meg covered in Valerie's pasta, all that happened was a twitch of her mouth. She tried to not look directly at her,just in case, and that was when she made eye contact with Meg's little brother Cyrus.

That poor, poor baby, she lamented, as she gave Cyrus a small sad smile and a wave, as she did almost every time she saw him. She had learned over the years that Cyrus had a drastically low self-esteem, which was probably the Queen's handiwork. Cyrus always tried to avoid Audrey at all times, and she wondered why. Was it because she wasn't threatening to beat him when she saw him? Was it because she didn't push him around,tease him, or yell at him? She swore she would find out. But on those rare occasions when he wandered the hallways or gardens by himself,he really wasn't all that bad. Sure, he would cower in fear, but he didn't try to hit you or threaten you.
Unlike his fellow club member Ace, who really didn't care if he punched you or throttled you to the ground. Sometimes she swore Ace thought he had nine lives or something.She had only probably interacted with Ace one time, when he had bumped into her and left without even saying sorry. He walked around like a program, or a robot, and he was undeniably creepy.
And of course, then there was Petra. Someone that got a kick out of giving others pain, or watching them receive pain, which Audrey thought was the cruelest thing she could imagine. She had a smart, free mouth, and although she could manipulate people, she couldn't do it as well as Meg, so that's why she was her follower. She also took orders easily, as did all the club members.
Audrey's biggest question was not why they did it, because she knew that, but why they all had the same classes, although they were in different grades.She knew Petra was a senior, but she had never taken any of the required classes as long as she knew Meg, and she questioned how the Garden Club had arranged it and gotten away with it.

She wondered what Meg would want with a girl like Valerie. Obviously now she could see that the girl would not be as compliant as her minions. Would that have an appeal to Meg? Maybe it would make this game just a whole lot more fun if Alice was not willing to join her. How unnerving that was to think about.

All of this thinking for Audrey, as it does for most human beings, happened in only a few minutes.




Just as the girl had time to finish her sentence, Petra swung forward taking this girl by the collar. She pulled hard so that her face was right into Valerie's.
"How about I show you how I take out the Trash?" She grinned " Or perhaps you would like Ace here to show you?"

She pushed the girl back with one hand, now standing in front of Meg. ' I suggest you all get lost. And take these piece of garbage with you '.

Oh no,what's happening?! I think for two minutes while the milk was running down Meg's hair, and this happens!
She stood up. This was outrageous and certainly not very nice!
She got up out of her seat, and the situation was no longer funny to her, which was unsurprising. She considered Valerie one of her friends now, and she wasn't going to let any of her friends be pushed around!
"We're not pieces of garbage, Petra, but Meg seems to be a trash can today." She gestured to the lunch splattered on Meg's clothing, "Now go away, because we were here first and you just decided to be extremely nosy like you guys always are and come barge in on our lunch."
She wasn't usually this mean, but these were her friends, and those people were not!



So she turned to see the reaction of the Queen, and also what the rest of her entourage would do. She made predictions in her head and most of them were predictable. Meg would leave in a huff, but her minions would continue to provoke them. Meg would scream and a fight would start. Sam would go ballistic, and all hell would break loose. She didn't really mind any of this happening, and mentally prepared herself for each situation.

Was it weird she thought of inviting the new girl to play chess, and then join her for tea?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Petra Mason Character Portrait: Meg Tharamel Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Ace de Mewler Character Portrait: Cyrus Tharamel
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Dean smiled around the roll in his mouth as he felt the pressure of Chess on his shins. As two light legs fell to either side of his head, he raised his hand to take the joint out of his mouth. He blew 3 rings into the air, all entering each other to make something of a bullseye. Dean was always rather fond of this talent of his, though he blew them as far away from Chess's face as he could. She never liked the smell of the his lovely little herbs, and though he couldn't care less, Dean never tried to intentionally bother her. Though he never said it out loud, he liked Chess's company.

"Twas brillig in the slithy toves..." she began to sing. Dean's grin broadened. Although she claimed to be apathetic, and often was to others, she always seemed to know what he needed to hear, even when Dean didn't know it himself. Humming along with her, though not very well, they finished off the lullaby on a calm and happy note. Dean clapped slowly, interrupting the soft silence that had settled like a blanket in the field.

"Beautifully sung, Chess, as always," he said, "Could you by any chance be a witch or a psychic? I certainly wouldn't be surprised. Just five minutes ago, I used those words to describe our dearest friend Meg. The Jabberwock seems to fit her like a glove, does it not?"




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Ace stepped out of Accounting, lost in his own mind. Uncaring of students or staff, he walked through the mess, eyes searching above the crowd for familiar blonde crown of curls. There! Barging through the crowd towards Meg, Ace realized that his heart was pounding. That moment of panic he felt when he's lost was already easing off, but it was still uncomfortable. Ace rubbed his chest absentmindedly.

All wandering thoughts vanished however when he caught up to the Queen. "Hello, my Queen," he said to her, and rightly didn't expect a response back. Looking to the side, he saw her brother, small, yet very difficult to miss. Not looking into his eyes, Ace said quietly, "Hi, Cyrus." He looked down then, looking at and following the pair of bright and polished white slippers and the pair of worn out and dirty running shoes to the cafeteria.

What happened next was a blur. Only when he was at the table did he notice the new student. He glanced at the curious passion on Meg's face. Why does she want her so badly? he thought with a frown. Still, it wasn't his place to question it, though the feeling of unease stayed with him whenever he looked at the girl's face.

"Or perhaps you would like Ace here to show you?"

When Petra mentioned his name, Ace looked up from his where he had zoned out. Petra's hands were around the girl's collar. Clearly, he was meant to look intimidating. Baring his teeth into a hideous grin, Ace glared at the girl. "I wouldn't mind."
Clenching his fists, he felt the knuckles cracking and popping rather loudly. He wouldn't mind hurting the girl. Just a little bit to show that Meg was his. Turning to glance at his Queen, he only then noticed the sopping milk stained hair that adorned her face.

Without thinking, he rushed forward, and, while her collar was still held by Petra, grabbed her jaw, thrusting it up to look at him. "Do you know what you just did, girl?" He spit in her face, "You've just harmed the Queen, and I can't have that."

How dare she? Who does she think she is? Ace fumed.

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Character Portrait: Harold Duffy Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Dean Frasier
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Dean's slow clap pulled Chess out of the silence. She dropped her gaze and took in his large grin with a tilt of her head. "Beautifully sung, Chess, as always," he told her. Chess looked away, ducking as she hid her face behind her hair. No one made her blush the way Dean did, despite the fact that he doesn't do it intentionally. The more accustomed she began to his company, the more involuntarily open she became. She didn't know if it should scare her or if it was okay. Regardless, when he spoke again, he captured all of her attention, "Could you by any chance be a witch or a psychic? I certainly wouldn't be surprised. Just five minutes ago, I used those words to describe our dearest friend Meg. The Jabberwock seems to fit her like a glove, does it not?"

Chess's eyes lolled back, as she sighed. β€œThough accurate your statement, I find it disheartening that I can't leave you alone without your mouth getting you into trouble.” She shot a warning look down at him and though she knew he couldn't see it, she knew he could feel it. β€œShe'll have her little cronies come after you, Caterpillar. Only the insane equate pain with success-...” She stopped herself and shrugged, looking off in the direction of the school, "Though I suppose no could accurately accuse you of being in your right mind.”





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Harry sat on padded ground, downtrodden. There was no sound in the room save for a sniffle here and there. He was pouting in the corner, his lolled off to the side as he counted every loose thread on the cushioned wall. He was bored out of his mind, depressed and lonely. He sighed loudly, obnoxiously, knowing that the nurses were just outside in the nurses' station listening for any disturbances. Another minute ticked by, the sound of his pocket watch muffled by the thick material of the straight jacket. The watch was loud in its own right, and the low chant of time was ebbing away at him. He needed to find something to distract himself, to keep his mind off the incessant noise. He began to whistle, loud enough so that he couldn't hear the ticking. At first it was just random notes, then it was a ballad Chess wrote for him, then it was Camp Town Ladies. Needless to say, the nurses lost their patience after the first ten minutes.

"Mister Duffy, please!" One of them hollered desperately, "Find some other way to entertain yourselfβ€”without making noise!" Harold stifled a chuckle at how quickly the nurse added that last bit.


β€œI'm going to roll on the floor for a bit, 'kay?” He called out, to them. He smirked when her heard to woman groan.

"That's fine, Mister Duffy!"

He needed no further permission. Dropping to his side, he threw himself around, rolling about on the floor with earnest determination. He did this at a slow pace for a good five minutes before even that bored him and he picked up speed. He kept rolling, smacking into different sides of the room, hitting his head on the corners. It took everything he had not to laugh. But when his back hit the steel door with a loud clang, he burst into hysterical giggling. His speed picked up and he kept laughing, looking from a bird's eyes view like a pinball bounding around a pinball machine. His laughing picked up an octave, a long strewn of giggling that filled up the closed off area of the Academy.

"UGHH! This kid's going to drive me crazy!"


β€œCrazy, crazy coo-coo head, bet you wish that you were dead!" Harry sang out loud, followed by a chorus of giggles that had the nurse banging on his door telling him to shut up.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Meg Tharamel Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Ace de Mewler Character Portrait: Cyrus Tharamel Character Portrait: Dean Frasier
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Chess reacted just the way Dean had assumed.

β€œThough accurate your statement, I find it disheartening that I can't leave you alone without your mouth getting you into trouble.”

He felt the the cold, disapproving look she was sending him without having to turn his head.

β€œShe'll have her little cronies come after you, Caterpillar. Only the insane equate pain with success-- Though I suppose no could accurately accuse you of being in your right mind.”

"That's is only half true, I'm afraid. No one really has their heads in this little world of ours, but the Queen won't have mine. Don't you worry, my dear Cheshire Cat, my head is stored safely away where no one, not even myself, can find it," He said with a lazy grin, looking up at his companion.

Her worry was wholly unnecessary, Dean believed. With Meg off playing with the shiny new victim, the unwilling toy in her sadistic little world, her club's attention would be far away from him. The only thing he had was a front row seat to the show, which he absolutely will take. He still knew very little about the girl, which annoyed him very much. Hopefully this little conflict will shed some light on the girl.

Just as he finished, the bell signalling the end of lunch went off, the metallic, angry sounding ruining the calmness of the empty field. Sighing, Dean swung his upper body up, grabbing the sides of the tree branch with his arms. He hoisted his face up to be very close to hers.

"Time to scamper, my feline friend. Our brains need rotting!"






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Gripping the girl's face tightly, Ace took pleasure from the thought of the bruises on her face the next day. That'll teach her to mess with the Queen. If not, he wouldn't mind teaching her another lesson... When he felt the angry pressure of light fingertips on hs shoulders that shoved him aside, he quickly stepped back to let Meg through.

Even though he couldn't grasp the words Meg said, they moved far too quickly, and he was already zoning out, Ace could feel the fiery anger in her tone and knew she was reigning down a tirade upon poor little Valerie. A grin spread on his face as he watched Meg do what she did best. Valerie had become the next target of the gardening club, and Ace was excited to take part in the fun.

When she finished, turned, and stormed away, he turned to follow, but managed to collide first with the stumbling form of Cyrus.

"Sorry," he said instinctively, then frowned. He felt a rush of an unfamiliar feeling, seeing the bruises and scars littering the back of the smaller boy. Ace didn't want those scars to be there. Frowning, he automatically helped him up, gripping his shoulder and pushed him gently forward, not with the usual violent shove. Composing himself, Ace followed the group, eyes trained to Cyrus' feet as they usually were. He waited for the usual thoughtless fog to come, but... it didn't. Ace couldn't understand why that was until finally it did, and he didn't worry anymore.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Harold Duffy Character Portrait: Laura Riddle Character Portrait: Dean Frasier
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The bell snapped her out of her reverie, averting her attention from Dean. She was barely aware of her friend moving beneath her until he spoke. Chess turned her head, her breath hitching at the close proximity. Her line of sight drifted down towards his lips unconsciously, a light blush gathering on her cheeks. She swallowed past the lump in her throat as she tore her eyes away, focusing more on how she was going to get down. Chess wouldn't look him in the eyes as she grasped his shoulders tightly, bring each leg up so she was perched on the branch on her knees, straddling his lap. She inched away, choosing to crawl out of his lap and reach for her bag once she made it to the trunk. She stood, draping the bag over her shoulder before made her descent down. As she made her way to her French teacher's classroom, Chess allowed her mind to wander.

She tried to think of anything other than her Caterpillar, like her Hare. Oh no...

Chess sprinted through the abandoned hallway towards her Advisory class, slowing down and collecting her breath as she made it to the threshold. She withheld in her sigh of relief as soon as she saw Harry. He was standing in front of Mrs. Kalin talking and looking so normal despite his inanity. She stifled a smile as she sauntered into class, taking Harry's hand as it fell at his side after a moment of intense gesticulation.

β€œBonjour Madame.” Chess greeted with a slight curtsy as Mrs. Kalin acknowledged her presence. β€œVoulez-vous nous excuser?” The teacher smiled and nodded with a short "Oui" before returning to her desk. Chess dragged Harry to their seats at the back of the class, turning to meet his quirky grin with an incredulous stare. They were in close proximity thanks to the desk being arranged in pairs, so they could get away with talking at a low volume without anyone being the wiser. β€œWhat did you do to get yourself into trouble this time, Harry?”

He shrugged, β€œSame thing I always do, I suppose.” Chess blinked at him, waiting for a further explanation. One prolonged batch of eye contact made it evident that she wasn't getting one and she sighed. Harry rolled his eyes, taking her hand in both of his, β€œYou shouldn't worry so much. I was going to be okay. Besides,” he gave her hand a slight squeeze as his eyes fell to her lap where they lay. β€œAudi broke me out so I guess it's okay. Hey Chessy?”

β€œYeah?”

β€œCan we skip fourth block and just play chess in the garden or something?” He asked, his voice soft and sad as he gazed at her with iridescent, pain filled eyes. β€œI just had a weird day. I've been acting a little-..." he broke eye contact and leaned away. Chess frowned, reaching out to him to stroke his cheek.

β€œAnything you want, Harry.”

Harry smiled sadly and turned around in his seat, leaning against Chess to reassure her that her sign of affection didn't go unappreciated. She smiled to, if only slightly, placing a small kiss on the top of his head before she reached into her bag. Once more she pulled out her sheet music and began to compose, but this time she felt someone watching. When it was Harry she didn't mind as much. He'd sat with her in the music room as she played them for him, bringing the notes to life. She'd even composed a lullaby for him before. Chess paused at the thought, her pen coming to a halt on the unfinished composition from this afternoon. Harry looked up at her behind dark lashes and their gaze met for a tender moment. She knew immediately what he was feeling and knew exactly how to fix it. She tore her eyes away, flipping to a new page, writing with her left hand so as not to disturb Harry resting on her right shoulder. She titled the heading: The March Hare's Lament.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Malia Grace Russet Character Portrait: Alice "Valerie" Callinder Character Portrait: Tarrant "Mad Hatter" Hightopp Character Portrait: Audrey Cassidy Bryant Character Portrait: Petra Mason Character Portrait: Sam Bryant
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Thwack!

"Damn them all ..."

Slap!

"I hate them ... I hate this school ..."

Smack!

"Why did I have to get dragged into all of this?"

Thud!

Valerie stumbled slightly, her sweaty palm barely managing to keep a grip on the tennis racket. She dropped to one knee, her arm draping over the one that was propped up, and she heaved a few breaths. Sweat tickled the back of her neck, where it made a curvy line down the center. Instead of standing, she dropped to her butt and splayed out across the ground, her arms out in a 'T' and her legs out in a 'V'. She was completely and utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally, and really hadn't a clue as to what she would do.

Should she stay?

Grandmother would be angry, but I'm sure she would let me leave ...

No. That would be considered cowardice, and cowardice was frowned upon in her family. Her sister had been weak, according to her grandmother, who admitted that she had only ever expected Valerie to survive, seeing as she had always viewed her as the strong twin.

It was a bunch of crap.

Amanda had been far stronger than she had ever been and ever would be. All that she could do was plaster on a smiling, happy facade and explode at people at the most random of times. Amanda had always been cool, calm, collect; quiet and soft-spoken. Valerie, on the other hand, had been the 'rebellious' one. The one that was too intelligent for her own good.

"Whatever ..." Her voice was a grown as she rolled over, her hands placed palm-down on the ground. Bracing herself slightly, she pushed herself up, grabbed her racket in the same motion, and turned to face the tennis-ball machine, which had run out of balls.

"That's what she said," she snickered, snorting slightly, for it was such a stupid in ridiculous joke, and she was in such an oddly foul mood that she couldn't help the sound. Bending over to pluck up a ball, she rolled it in her fingers, her icy eyes glued to it and seeming almost mesmerized. Out of nowhere, she spun, the ball whipping out of her hand and flinging at the far wall, where it slapped it dropped to the ground, a crack appearing down the center of it.

"Seriously, what's the point? I'm just a foreign, freaking German girl whose entire family is dead. It was unrealistic for me to ever think that I could make friends here, let alone ones that wouldn't judge me for my past ... Well ... Unluckiness, nor for my uncommon mood-swings, yet violent ones nonetheless. I can't believe that I actually thought ... Dammit, I don't know ... This place is so messed up!" She rubbed her hands roughly through her mass of blonde curls, letting out a frustrated growl. Spinning, she lashed out with her legs, kicking a ball and slamming it through the net.

"What the Hell am I supposed to do? Huh, Mama? Papa? What the Hell am I supposed to do at this school? Obviously it isn't just for geniuses ... So what kind of school is this?"

Obviously, there was no answer to her question. Instead, the chirping of crickets, buzzing of bees, and a slight swish of wind was the reply. Nothing that could help her.

As always, she would have to make this decision on her own. Hell, she'd been doing it for nearly half of her life anyway. Why start relying on others now? She was the caregiver, not the caretaker. She dealt out the protection; she didn't not receive. It was merely her way of life, and if that changed, she probably wouldn't know what to do with herself. Hell, she could barely handle not having an answer from the freaking heavens.

Maybe she was crazy too.

"... Nah ... But I'm still confused as Hell and royally pissed at Grandmama," she said with a sigh. Valerie moved over to the fencing that surrounded the tennis fields, curled her fingers in the metal wiring, and dropped her forehead against it. Her eyes peered out through half-closed lids, her lips slightly pursed, and in all honesty, she didn't want to move from that spot. The wind was just strong enough to help cool her sweaty, flushed body, yet light enough so that it barely ruffled the tennis skirt that she wore.

"... I guess that I can stay for a bit longer. I mean, I've only been here for, what, two hours?" She glanced at her watch out of the corners of her eyes and shrugged. "Okay, so an hour and a half. But still! I'm not about to pussy out of this school already!" she exclaimed, pushing back from the fence and slapping repeatedly at her cheeks. "Get it together, Val! Grow up and grow a pair! Jeez, if Grandmama were to see you now, she'd be spitting out curses at you in German! And you know exactly what she'd say. You always were a spoiled, spineless, good-for-nothing brat who only ever took advantage of my generosity," she said, her voice mockingly old. She spun from the fence, a scowl on her face.

"Whatever, as if I need any friends here ... Helena's decent, Tarrant's nuts but my child-hood friend and a great guy, Sam doesn't even remember me, Audrey talks to inanimate objects, a crackie has it out for me, one girl is some sort of half-cat, half-human reborn Dr. Seuss, and one girl carries a knife! Oh, and don't forget the weird kid that decide to smooch on you, and that bitchy, holier-than-though slut Meg and her damned little minion-filled-entourage. God ... Mother ... Shit ... Ugh!" She threw her hands into the air, grabbed her racket, and started for the gate that would allow her to leave the tennis fields. "I guess I'll just play it all by ear," she muttered.