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Gray Spades

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a character in “The Deck - Wonderland”, originally authored by Ville.Sunfall, as played by RolePlayGateway

So begins...

Gray Spades's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: BanderSnatch Character Portrait: The Mad Hatter Character Portrait: Andy White Character Portrait: Claudia Marie Clubs Character Portrait: Ruby Ophelia Heart Character Portrait: Evangeline Pip
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The setting changes from Wonderland to The Center of Wonderland

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Character Portrait: Gray Spades Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Image Gray was never one for parts, especially ones that involved lots of people, people being well everyone. The most he ever does at parties, is just stand there bored out of his mind, hoping it will get over with. There was very little people he could ever find himself having a mild decent conversation with and that wasn't his choice to speak to them first. Yet still, he would accept those little people. This event was different though, everyone was expected to come, meaning he would have to look his very best at all times.

Parting some of his hair up with silver dragon chopsticks in his hair. He had completed it with a black and silver hanfu. This was something he always wore, but in the colors of mostly blues or blacks, sometimes red, it all depended on his mood or occasion. This was a party, the black held background as for the silver either held power or elegance, it wasn't too flashy. Of course this went along with his black and silver geta's. Sure this might seem odd to you, it may seem odd to most people, but in his land, the land of Tea in Wonderland, it was tradition to dress in old japanese styles.

It wasn't long before he was reminded that he had to attend the party. He would be arriving there by carriage, it's not like he chose this, if he could get away with it, he'd walk instead, but it was a far walk and in the process of trying to walk through wonderland, one might get lost and end up somewhere they wish not to be or wish to be, depended on which path you took. When the carriage had stopped, Gray took a look out the window of it behind the thick black curtains. Earlier that day he had told his Adviser to meet him at the party and not come with him, something inside him told him that it was probably a bad idea.

Without a word the driver helped the Prince out of the carriage and drove off once he was a good feet away. Valentine, was one person he was looking forward to meeting. He had never met the guy in person before and was told many things about him from the Cheshire Cat. What he had told him spiked his interest. Valentine was a Trader of Goods of all kinds, he was also a man who had live longer than any lives that had been given to him. The picture he had in his mind was of an older man, maybe holding a cane or have a white beard that dropped to the floor, who knows. But there was something else that spiked him even more. Valentine was special and the one who knew more about this was Diamonds himself. Supposable Valentine had been working with him for a very long time and suddenly quit?

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he had made it custom that he'd try the tea at the part, to see if it was fit enough to satisfy the people. If it tasted bad, that looked bad on him and his land. Without a word or glace to anyone, he made his way slowly over to the table that held all the foods and drinks, he kept his attention down onto the ground, making it seem as if he was walking around with his eyes closed and his face proud. Some would say almost too proud, others might say he was like a dragon, beautiful and mighty, one would only dare to stab it. Contact with someone wasn't a bad thing, but he wasn't really in the mood for conversation with anyone.

Taking a cup of the tea, he moved his way over to a spot where less of the crowd was, this time he closed his eyes and stood there, sipping his tea in a polite manner. From the spot he stood, he could hear almost everyone speaking. A few lady spoke about clothing, some people spoke about the royals and how exciting it would be to see them. A few gawked over Prince Gray, especially once he walked into the area, all eyes was on him. As if he was some kind of fancy art piece that was about to fall down and shatter to pieces. They always stared at the Royals like that. As if they was something special to be stared at. Well ok, they are, but that isn't what the point was about.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ruby Ophelia Heart Character Portrait: Evangeline Pip Character Portrait: Gray Spades Character Portrait: Prudentius Diamond Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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chapter i - treacherous rendezvous
center of wonderland

He found the center of Wonderland in a myriad of colors, flora blossomed in their sweetness and extending gangly vine arms, twisting, coiling around columns of refined marble, their leaves the most vibrant greens and toxic berries redder than the life blood pushing through needle veins. How very alive were they; guests of supple skin caressed by starshine, glistened by their vigor and mirth that composed the ambiance, and thus the occasion was a jovial one of peace, their minds bleached and liberated from paranoia that plagued common-folk and highborns alike.

He'd laugh too, the threads of his vocal cords melted and initiating their own tiny spasms at jokes told, the antics of jesters and a four handed woman who juggled apples, oranges, and a porcelain doll head skewed by the craftsman's penchant against the previous Bloody (Red) Queen. Charming creatures hailing from the West to the East, those that burrowed emerging from tunnels and washing grime from hair thinner than sheer fabric as avian singers perched on crystallized wires, and his lips remained upturned, pulled into cheeks pigmented a diluted moonstone, his pale skin mimicking the living, mouth grinning, talking, eyes reflecting streams of illumination that had been filtered through ice statues and the prisms of their angles. They existed marvelously, and his pupils oscillated between those imbibing on saccharine rose wines and the wallflowers murmuring gossip disguised as poetry into the ears of anyone that would sacrifice to them time.

However, it was the dead who possessed eternity in their caskets, be them made of wood, ivory, water, the living were predestined to wither with the years and decompose once their tenuous hearts ceased beating. A celebration of ephemeral characters simply could not transcend the boundaries of clocks, and ruled were they by mechanical ticking, waiting for the bells to ring and for the flesh to rot. Hymns of everlasting bliss were plucked from harps sealed in liquid gold, lemon cakes were served with miniature cherry blossoms resting upon the sugar dusted surfaces and his fingers turned, delicate motions twirling his parasol of teardrop lace and the snowflake's fractal elegance. He strapped not a rapier to his side because he was no fool, understood the meaning of being openly armed at a place purged of violence, and yes, he was certainly not a fool, no one would see the blade concealed within the handle of his parasol.

Memories of nothing, their minds were fated to drown in silence whilst he collected photographs which would never fade. Noir cravat tight around his throat and dress shirt he chuckled at a fable told by a stilt walker, a tale of witches that cursed pretty maidens to a life as insipid as their thoughts - and that's how butterflies came to be, he explained in a voice weaved with old, false magic. The man gifted the Prince a monarch enclosed in a jar and her wings fluttered alongside glass dented and molded into pellucid roses, and the mannerisms of these people were queer but endearing. He almost regretted not visiting these lands sooner, and Prudence's eyes waned into crescents, humor discovered in the notches of the celebration, enemies parodying friendship and admirers finding themselves bold in the afternoon's zeal. The beauty sustained here was divine, but the warmth in the heart of Wonderland was an unsavory antagonist, not quite a foe because with a breeze gentle and bounteous any fear for his wellbeing disappearing in languid whispers of wind.

Underneath the shade he stayed, donning the glacier glory of The North in attire white and silver, silk gloves devoid of color sheathing his hands and therefore when holding the winged insect’s transparent prison hoarfrost did not creep along the surface and only mere condensation spread, moisture congregating across the contours traced by skeletal thumbs. “Such a curious, feeble creature - why must you endure peril? How can torment be disregarded by any ignorance, or does purity make you naïve, little one?” He questions the limited sentience in hushed words, brothers to snowfall which made no noise in the night. The syllables born from his larynx were synonymous with instruments for delicate hands, a quiet aria striving for no vengeance and his voice is as ceramic and deceptive as the cold always has been.

“Perhaps you will live longer in Evangeline’s hands.” The woman’s presence was momentarily absent, removed from his line of vision when whisked away by all that he had not seen before, never had ventured beyond the North, but as small as she was he’d find her again, preferably sooner than later, lest the butterfly freeze and die like mortals so easily do. Still, he mused the possibility all the same, shards of light swallowed by his irises blacker than licorice, thanking the stranger who so kindly recognized the Prince of Diamonds, as very few could.

His palm cradled the container against his chest, attention wandering from the departing storyteller to the procession of attendees arriving in pairs and groups, very few alone as they entered the garden and even less isolated in a space where merriment sparked a labyrinth of infectious joy throughout the air they breathed. Lightning storms in his lungs his grasp on the parasol relaxed, became tenacious again, and he had traveled from a palace of winter not for frivolous socialization but rather - and his pupils twitched, jerking to a woman with a child’s marble eyes and hair red like candied apples, to a man with dragons tied into his long locks of dusk indulging in what was presumably tea - well, the corners of his lips quirked, thoughts severed, rearranging.

Prudentius meandered, his legs taking leisurely strides, walking through the crowd, wind jostling the tails of his formal uniform, raiment tailored to the traditional style of the Diamond’s Kingdom imperial era. Folded collars, cuffs, fastened buttons of gray spinel and silver thread embroidered into images of Northern stags, his white trousers were much less elaborate, leather boots hardly denting the grass, which was astonishingly resilient, nothing at all like the snow. “Ribbons of fire would be ever so envious, my lady.” He remarked in the same tender tone, offering a smile to the woman holding a lollipop crafted in the likeness of a heart. nodding to her with a sign of respect,. “Would I be mistaken to think you are Princess Heart?” Prudence asked, suspicion strong yet spoken tentatively, head tilting but centimeters to the left and the parasol spun, the butterfly fluttered her wings, and people sang their lighthearted songs all around them, dancing without a single nightmare within their empty skulls.

The setting changes from The Center of Wonderland to Wonderland


Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Mad Hatter Character Portrait: Ruby Ophelia Heart Character Portrait: Thackery Earwickett Character Portrait: Gray Spades Character Portrait: Prudentius Diamond Character Portrait:
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Thackery delicately fastened the buttons of his waistcoat, gently tugging the material down to smooth out the creases. His hare ears were twitching, as they often did, searching for any signs of danger. His human ears remained still as they always did unless someone tugged at them to get his attention. He exhaled deeply, staring at the letter once again. It was folded so the contents could not be seen, but he knew the contents by heart anyway. Whoever this T.D was, it unnerved Thackery slightly that they, for he was still uncertain as to anything relating to the gender of their host, had found not only himself, but also Hatter.

He felt the soft weight of his ears as they fell back against his head. The hare had obviously realised it was safe, something his human instincts had told him long ago. Regardless of whatever the letter meant, Thackery was in his home. Home had always equated to safety, no matter what state Wonderland found itself in. Not for the first time, Thackery wondered what it would have been like had Alice never saved them all from the Red Queen. Thackery and Hatter would still be hosting tea parties and unbirthday celebrations. Those days had been much easier but felt like another lifetime now, and in a sense they were. Times were different now. Yes, Thackery was still an outsider of Wonderland, no less odd than the other citizens, but as a member of the rebellion, it was in his interests to remain outside. But he was no longer trapped in himself. Thackery had achieved an autonomy of sorts and was no longer as ‘mad’ as he had once been. That had been Alice’s mark on him. The regaining of some semblance of sanity.

Thackery snapped his cufflinks into place. They were nothing particularly fancy, but they were a teacup and a teapot, so naturally his heart had been stolen by them. He pulled on the jacket of his suit, leaving the buttons open. He picked up the letter and slipped into his inside pocket. Why was a raven like a writing desk? The question sprung into his head as he had taken the letter, his friend’s voice echoing the words. It was a question Hatter had often posed to people. He would have to ask him the answer one day or go mad wondering what the answer was to the riddle. Why was a raven like a writing desk? Thackery dismissed the thought from his mind, gathering his hare ears into a tophat. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his para-human nature, it was just easier to blend in when no one could see your hare ears. All people saw was a well-dressed man among many others who dressed well. He was hiding in plain sight, and it was glorious.

The journey to the neutral ground was short enough to walk. The air was warm and a gentle breeze played through the trees. The flowers were bright, swaying gently as though they were dancing. If he listened carefully, Thackery could hear them whispering to one another, the same idle gossip they had engaged in since he had been a leveret boy. Feeling lighter than he had done in years, Thackery stepped into the gathering. It felt strange to be surrounded by so many people that, in any other context, he would be fighting, or Hatter would be annoying greatly. There was always the chance that Hatter would annoy and provoke them anyway, depending on which form his mercurial friend chose to take. Thackery nodded to himself, Hatter was the master when it came to hiding in plain sight.

Making his way to the central table, Thackery sought the teapot containing Earl Gray, and poured himself a cup. Taking a sip, Thackery decided that it was drinkable, but not quite perfect. He had had years to perfect the art of tea making, given that all he had done for those years was host tea parties. It was amazing what murdering time could do for you. The whole party was reminiscent of summer, from the way the food was laid out, the colours, down to the smells and the ambience around him. Despite the rebellion, everyone seemed to have their guard down and was talking openly, mingling with the crowds that would be enemies tomorrow. Keeping to the edge of the party, Thackery kept one eye out for Hatter and the other he kept on the people around him.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Gray Spades Character Portrait: Nemaren Spadille Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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The small mutter came from the lips of the young woman dressed in white and black, the only other colour in her white hair being the flowers that she adorned, and the small drop of blood on her fingertip. The blood splashed down onto the petals of the rose she held in her grasp, one thorn having a small discolouring of red on the tip where it had pricked her. The white petals, once so pretty to Nemaren, was stained by her blood, and she sniffed a little at it. She hated the colour red. White and black was her forte.

"Tch." She muttered, placing her fingertips to her lips and licking the blood from the fingertips. She dropped the flower into the bush, and continued walking through the garden where the party was. She was here on her own, having being sent along first by the Prince. She hadn't agreed, of course, she hated leaving his side, where she could protect him much more effectively. She had left at his word, though, after her lengthy protest. She hadn't seen his carriage yet.

She finally reached the party grounds, after her long walk around the gardens. They were pretty, of course. Nemaren just prefered black and white to colour, and the gaudy flowers that almost followed her around the gardens. She fiddled with the hem of her dress a little, in slight nervousness... For what though, she didn't know.

She decided to make her way to the table with the teacups on it. She really did like tea, it was a warm drink, and it made her feel the same inside. Plus it was tasty. She spotted red by the table - Princess Ruby, no doubt - but ignored it and made her way over anyway. A few minutes later a warm cup and saucer filled with brown liquid (And just a spoonful of sugar) sat delicately in her hands, and she sipped at it. It was almost as nice as back home... Assuming it wasn't from there, of course.

Looking around herself again, Nemaren wasn't sure whether the bright petals of the flowers were for her... She preferred the marshes of her home, and the Tea Village. The bright colours made her eyes hurt, no matter how pretty they were. She found herself looking around for the Prince, time and time again, wanting to assure his safety... She would blame herself if anything came of him.

A few others passed by her notice, including a man with the ears of a hare, a few more red dresses, and a man that looked slightly ill. She ignored them, however, and the voices grew to a quiet buzzing all around her. She felt alone, almost, in the crowd. Her stomach twisted into knots, and then butterflies - everything all at once, and she realized she was growing paranoid at the thought of him being injured. She shook a thousand terrifying thoughts from her mind and instead focused on pretending to have fun. She sipped at her tea again, trying to keep the cup and saucer from rattling as her hands shook.

Then, she saw him. He was over in a slightly less crowded area, whereas she felt like all of the air was being squeezed from the space she occupied, and was almost crushing the oxygen from her. Slowly, at first, she began pushing her way through the crowd towards him, but as the feeling of impending doom overcame her, she became more and more frantic, the sea of people in posh frocks and fancy suits seemingly crushed the air from her, and made her desperation that much more frightening. And then, it happened.

Nemaren swore the crack of her neck could be heard from here. Her head snapped up, from instead looking at where she was going and keeping the cup upright, up to where the girl hung. The saucer slipped from her fingers and the china broke into a thousand pieces upon the ground. The blood on the girl's dress reminded her of the petals of the flower from earlier, and it was all she could do to pull herself away from looking upon the grisly mess of her face - no, what was her face. Blood dripped from the gory mess of her skull and flooded down her throat and stained her pretty white dress. Her skull was still red, the blood was fresh - the culprit was around here.

Nemaren hated red.

Tearing through the crowds, Nemaren frantically pushed her way towards the Prince. Now in her hand, instead of the saucer, was the small dagger she had hidden in her boots - an item she hadn't expected to have needed, but was glad to have brought anyway. She hurried over to the Prince, out of breath, but generally okay. She looked up at him, her knuckles white where she held the knife. "Are you okay, sir?" She asked in a quiet voice. She kept looking around herself, but tried to distract herself by talking to Gray.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ruby Ophelia Heart Character Portrait: Gray Spades Character Portrait: Nemaren Spadille Character Portrait: Valentine Vitriol Character Portrait: Prudentius Diamond Character Portrait:
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Image Spadille was easiest to find the moment she had walked into the area. He sorta felt a bit more at ease when she found him through the sea of people. He had just finished his tea, when a body had fallen from a tree swinging from a rope. Sure anyone else would have panicked and lost there heads over this, but Spades found it a work of heart, someone just wanted to show off, not for the fun of art, but for the fun of the show. This displeased Spades deeply.

When Spadille reached him, he reached out with his free hand and took her hand that held the knife. Pulling her into him closely, he turned the blade so it wouldn't stab either of them, but it was hidden from the people behind his clothing. "My dear, this is not how we handle things. You know of this from I." His voice sharp, but calm.

The sight of the dead body didn't faze him, he was more concerned about image. He was a Prince and she was his Adviser, to him this is not how they should act in front of others. Putting his tea cup down, without the clank of the cup hitting the saucer, he took the knife out of Spadille's hand with a gentle touch. His face calm and composed he bent down and put it back into her boot, where she had put it. But he made it look as if he was fixing his own shoe.

Without the other's seeing much he fixed her gown, taking cloth from his own he made a bow out of it around the blood spot on her gown. To cover up the mess. Now he looked her straight in the eyes, sliding his finger down her hair, fixing it back into place. His long pale finger slid down her jaw and stopped at her chin. In a way it was how he tried to calm her. Dropping his hand he looked over at the body, bored with it already. "Perhaps if we stay there will be more to the little show." He tilted his head just slightly, letting his long hair shift over his shoulder.

Image Val's invite to the party came in about a week early, mainly because no one ever knows where his next location would be. So he was given it at the first chance anyone had got. To find his shop's location, you'd be considered very lucky and it was fated you be there. It was a simple Victorian style home. Shop at the bottom and his home at the top. Everything was filled with fancy items, some older than you like to think. There was even a spot filled with nothing but books and a little place for you to read them at.

Val is a many of many mysterious, only few know about him and of him. From his shop, only a couple dare to talk to him. But as for today things might change, this was a good chance for him to get to know others and find some great traders. This was a rare opportunity and one that he will take hands down. Deciding what he would wear, it was a black victorian suit, with a few ruffles here and there. It was clean and fit his long body perfectly.

After he had decided that he looked perfect, he made his way out the door and onto the party. It took him a while before he got there, it seemed that when he did, the crowd of people was left in screams and shambles. A light chuckle slipped through his lips. "Talk about a scream of -" The scent of a dead woman surrounded his lips and nose, the scent was fresh and it had cut his words clear off.

His was green eyes turned into the color of copper. The blood on the body was fresh, it made his skin slightly crawl in excitement. Before he could find himself walk towards the smell, he was already standing next to the body. His fingers already touching the poor dead girls body. But there was another smell, a smell of a man covering her scent, it wreaked. It made him step back and cover his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. "It would seem, my lady, that your death would be save from I, my dear."

Val wasn't in the slightest worried about whether people would think of him as the killer. Mainly because it wasn't his style of killing. To them he was only a Trader, that was all. Only a few knew of his secrets, but also knew he was a decent man when it came to his, choice of meals presay. Moving away from the body, he could help but feel like something was missing from it.

Once his sense because clear from the body, a new scent made his body shift. It was of someone he knew very well, but hasn't seen since the man was a boy. Prudentius. He knew the Prince was alright, he couldn't smell any cuts or bruises, he was perfect as always, but still his nerves want to be 100 percent sure. Slowly this time, he made his way through the crowd and over to the Prince. With a bow of his head he smiled kindly. "Pardon my instructions." Though the Princess of Hearts was before them, his attentions was set on Prudentius. "There is something that I must check, it would only be a moment."

Without a word, without asking. Val, only overlooked the Prince from head to toe. Making for sure he was fine. He wasn't trying to be a parent to the boy, nor was he being a friend in care. The two always had a bond with one another, that no one could explain. It wasn't what one might call love, but a bond much more than that. It was something they had always had, from the moment they first met each other. With another smile, but this smile was of relief, he nodded satisfied and bowed once again. "Thank you and do excuse me. I believe this party has become over exciting."

People started to shove in panic, and just before someone could get shoved into the Prince, Val had shifted his body right behind him, a slight grunt slipped from his lips. But he caught hold of the Prince by the waist, in a graceful and polite way, so neither of them would fall. "Forgive me Sire." He smile slightly as he spoke, his words near the Prince's ear.

There he was protecting him once again, it was as if the past years had never happened. It was like it was back in the older days. It felt a bit nice, but he didn't want Prudentius to be uncomfortable. Slowly he started to let go and step back, helping the woman who had fell, back to her feet, turning his attention away from the Prince, only for but a moment. "There you go Miss. All is well."