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Not Your Alice

Chapter Text

Who am I?

I'm really not sure.

My name---this name---is Alice

Alice Samantha Morrigan

 

I'm cursed

I don't know how long I've been alive

How many times my heart has beat

But I remember the beginning

 

Some laugh when I say her name

Tatania

The fairy queen

A Shakespearean legend

A comedy, of all things

 

They don't know how painful it was

Being drugged over and over,

The juice from that accursed flower

Seeping under her eyelids

 

The one she trusted

Her husband

He took her child

The child of her best friend

 

The only thing left she had of her

 

And used the flower over and over

 

Humiliating her

Taunting her

Using her

Until she broke

 

I remember the spell

The chant she used

 

“My soul will move on

until one may find

a happiness in love

bright enough for the world to see.”

 

And then she fell

 

I remember another

 

Alice

Alice Liddell

Alice in Wonderland

Alice who's dreams and imagination inspired a world

 

Alice who lost her love

Her prince.

And threw her spirit into another

 

A different,

A love without a love

Without a passion.  

Hiding away the magic behind her eyes

Hiding away her power

 

And then

Angie

Angie Martinelli

A character

 

Someone who worked so hard for a break that was never as big as they'd dreamed

Someone who fell in love

 

With the wrong kind of love.

 

Someone who spent hours talking, laughing, and stealing kisses in hidden corridors.

 

With her,

 

Peggy.

 

With someone who's smile filled the room and who's laugh was more precious than diamond.

 

Someone who they worked with, day and night.

 

Creating a legacy.

 

S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

But never showing the full story,

 

Never able to bring their love into the light.

 

No matter how strong,

 

How pure,

 

How powerful,

 

It could never be shown.

 

So they hid,

 

Hiding their light.

 

Saving it for dark corners,

 

Closed doors,

 

For their hearts only.

 

And now me.

 

Alice Samantha Morrigan.

 

A dreamer,

 

Someone filled with ambition,

 

And wondering.

 

Someone who is nervous,

 

Scared,

 

And passionate for the smallest of things.

 

Finding the magic.

 

Falling into rabbit holes,

 

Fairy circles,

 

And worlds of wondrous proportions.

 

Uncovering her power left behind by her queen.

 

Finding the remnants

 

Of Tatania,

 

Of Alice,

 

Of Angie,

 

Of the queens and goddesses before her.

 

Taking these woman,

 

Her past,

 

And making them her future.

 

A brighter future.

 

I hope.

Chapter Text

Look, I didn't expect it to go this way exactly.

 

I just meant to turn everything into a pretty weird free verse poem sort of thing.

 

I'm new at this, and I wanted to find a way to tell you about myself without boring you to tears like most OCs.

 

Believe me when I say I know about how boring and one dimensional most OCs are.

 

It can get really annoying shoe-horning some random person into your fandom when all you're really here to do is to read about your favorite ships.

 

And I get that.

 

My ships are incredibly important to me.

 

(My boats too.)

 

I just wanted you to get to meet me before you turn this off in disgust and look up more marvel or cartinelli stuff.

 

(Which I totally don't blame you for. Cartinelli is precious to this world.)

 

My name is Alice Samantha Morrigan.

 

I am fifteen years old and live in Maine.

 

(Which is SUPER boring by the way.)

 

I'm special, per say.

 

(And no, I did not get bitten by a radioactive insect, arachnid, or animal of any kind. That does not normally give you superpowers. It will normally kill you. This is just a PSA to not go out of your way to get bitten by something radioactive. You won't end up like Spider-Man. You will end up like Marie Curie.)

 

I'd like to think I'm a special kind of special snowflakes. You know, the royally magic kind.

 

Anyway, when I was little I was one of those kids who was SUPER into faeries and that sort of thing.

 

(Not unicorns though).

 

My Great Uncle Eric lives in Wales and I went to visit him one summer when I was in my teen years.

 

(And no, by that time I was not over my whole faerie obsession. I'm special that way.)

 

I went wandering around his backyard woods (yes, he's that kind of person) and I tripped and fell down a hill and crushed a faerie circle.

 

(Picture the scene from The Princess Bride)

 

Normally, crushing a faerie circle ends in really bad punishment (use your imagination) for the poor soul that ended up stepping on an oddly important mushroom. I was saved from this unfortunate fate by someone getting turned into a butterfly for trying to zap me or whatever. (Faerie punishments are very selective).

 

That was when I was recognized as someone with the power of Tatania. (Which is more than one-dimensionally sexist writing and a really bad taste in guys). Apparently, she was the one with the birthright (they're a matriarchal society) and it meant that I was in some way a member of the royal family.

 

(I'm not kidding, THIS BLEW MY MIND).

 

I visited the circle everyday until I had to go back to the US. (yay -_-). While I was there they gave me the mark of the royals and worked on a pair of synthetic wings.

 

(Stay with me.)

 

The mark of the royals was embedded onto my wrist with the mark of my wings. It looked like a faint henna tattoo and could be used to call upon them. (They wanted to fix them on permanently, but I said that would be hard to hide). I was able to hide it from my parents, but my uncle wasn't so lucky.

 

He's in his later years and would spend time looking out over his grounds and sighing. (I guess, his WiFi was awful, so what else do you do?)

 

One time he caught me with my wings out conversing in fey (the faerie language).

 

Another time he caught me holding the grimoire and chanting something to my strawberry plant. (I was bored and hungry for strawberries. So sue me.)

 

He didn't say anything and didn't seem fazed. (Which was weird, seeing as it looked like I might be summoning a demon with the chanting and sage. I just wanted bigger strawberries.)

 

I was visiting Oxford with him a couple years later when the next phenomenal occurrence happened.

 

(This is true) I love Alice in Wonderland. Honestly, I've read it so many times and seen so many plays of it that I get at all of the little out-of-date jokes. (As sure as ferrets are ferrets always makes me laugh). So, being that much of a nerd, I begged my uncle to let me read my book by the Thames, where Alice had first seen the white rabbit.

 

I placed my bag next to me, and lay down with my book when I was startled to see a rabbit sniffing my hair. I reached a hand out to pet it, when it whirled around and bit me. I jerked my hand away quickly, watching pearls of blood drip down onto my book.

 

Instead of sinking through the pages and marring the drawings, they slipped off and sunk into the ground.

 

The rabbit stared intently as the drops sunk into the earth. I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. He jumped onto the pages, stamping his feet only a few seconds later. Annoyed I pushed him off, getting his foot stuck in a hole.

 

I sat up, noticing a hole growing around where my blood has fallen. A hole matching the illustration on the cover. A rabbit hole.

 

(Stay with me)

 

It wasn't long before the rabbit tumbled through and I fell with it. Unlike what the movies had portrayed, it wasn't a mix of tumbling down and falling at the normal rate of gravity (9.81 m/s, I told you I was a nerd). It seemed more of floating down and being able to really look at where you were. Other holes siphoned off, going in other directions. The rabbit seemed perfectly content leaving me in the dark about all of it.

 

Yay. -_-

 

He finally spoke after we cascaded to the ground. (if him speaking is the weirdest thing, stop now. It's Wonderland.) “Do you know how to get through?”

 

The room was a hall of doors and curtains. Remembering the story, I moved a curtain to find a minute door.

 

Turning to a small glass table centered in the middle of the hall, I noticed a little vial with the words “drink me” engraved, picked it up, and drank it. The door that would be correct for what I'd need would be small, after all.

 

After shrinking, I noticed the rabbit staring at me from the top of the table, the key next to him. I swore. How could I have forgotten the key. I noticed another vial marked “drink me” at the base. I stopped. I had something that Alice didn't have in this case. I was faerie.

 

I found the shock in his eyes hilarious as I spread my arms and summoned my wings. My pale henna lifted from my wrist, spinning to fit my back and growing. I wasn't particularly advanced at flying, but was able to make it up to the table’s edge. Landing softly next to a shell-shocked rabbit. The key was heavier than expected, so instead of carrying it down confidently, I just pushed it off the table and jumped down.

 

The rabbit hopped down with me and helped push the key into the lock and turn.

 

Whatever you'd imagine Wonderland to like is different than what it actually is. Tim Burton, Disney, Ever After High, they're all wrong. Carroll holds the closest understanding to what it truly is. (He did imagine it after all). There are hills of checkerboard in one area, and in others colors of different shades, proportions, and spaces. I can't even begin to describe how incredible it is without giving it order. The beauty of Wonderland is that there is no specific formula that makes it what it is. It's the beauty of controlled chaos; just chaotic enough to leave the viewer abandoning all reason to why, but not in complete anarchy. Uncontrolled chaos is a dangerous and deadly thing. With the citizens of Wonderland embracing the chaotic nature of their land, they give it purpose and meaning by not spiraling out too greatly.

 

I was amazed to see everything swirling around me as the rabbit took me along the path to a house of cards, less of a house, a castle. Card soldiers turned in surprise to see the White Rabbit (it didn't take an impossible amount of deduction to figure out who he was) followed by me.

 

As many people may wonder how I look, I'm really nothing special. I'm relatively short and almost platinum blonde, with my hair reaching to the bottom of my ribs. My eyes are grey and cloudy, unable to decide on a color. My hair isn't thick, but it isn't thin either and frames my impish face. (Yes. I have elf ears. It's a mix of a blessing and a curse.) At the time, I was wearing a Idina Mendel concert shirt (she's a goddess), black jeans, and a pair of beat up doc martins. I could be described as relatively pretty, but nothing hear turning or stunning. However, as we walked down the path, I could hear their whispers and feel their eyes boring into my skull. He led me down multiple doorways, hallways, and staircases until we entered what I assumed to be the throne room. The ceiling was high and long as a cathedral, but more inviting. Bread and butterflies fluttered throughout the space, and a throne sat amidst cushions, seats, and a surprising amount of teapots and teacups. Creatures milled about the space, whispering to themselves, all falling quiet as we passed. The rabbit stopped and turned as we fell at the throne.

 

“I have an announcement.” Any others who were talking immediately fell silent at the sound of his voice. “We all remember Alice.” The name rippled through as it was whispered over and over.

 

“She has been found!” He held up my hand and the room exploded in cheers. I ripped my hand away.

 

“No.” They fell silent. “I'm not her. I'm Alice Morrigan, not Alice Liddell.” He looked confused.

 

“But you are. You are Alice. You inspired us and you are here again.”

 

“No I’m not. I'm not your Alice.”

 

“Are you sure?” A large, green, caterpillar was slowly making his way down the middle of the isle. Behind him, a group of mice followed behind, balancing his hookah between them. He slinked down, making no point to promptly meet up with me.

 

He eventually made his way up to the throne, meeting my glare. Breathing in smoke with every word, he stepped up the steps, in an almost menacing manner. “Who are you?”

 

With the final word, he blew his smoke over my face.

 

(PSA. Before we get into all of this, having smoke blown in your face will give you an asthma attack or contribute to lung cancer. However, having Wonderland smoke being blown at you from a caterpillar ends with different results. End of PSA)

 

Normally when I get a face full of smoke, my eyes feel like they need to be ripped out of my skull and I fall over in a fit of coughing. This, however, was different.

 

I felt my eyes close, but I saw clearer than when they were open. I saw Tatania (that's how we're related), I saw Angie, I saw Alice.

 

For those of you who haven't poured your soul into the backstory behind Alice in Wonderland, though you should. (I don't blame you, though. It's not healthy.) Alice Liddell was the daughter of the dean of Oxford. She and Prince Leopold (Queen Victoria’s son with hemophilia (you'd think that they'd realize the drawbacks of having kids with family)) wanted to get married. However, Queen Victoria decided to ruin her son’s life even more than simply sleeping with her first cousin and giving him health maladies. Alice and Leopold weren't allowed to get married, so they went their broken hearted ways and she ended up having three sons with a cricket player. Yay. -_- .

 

Now if you remember, Tatania’s blessing (cough curse, cough)  stated, “My powers move on until one may find a happiness in love bright enough for the world to see.”

 

While she was probably fond of her husband, Alice Liddell never forgot Leopold (who died of hemophilia at the age of 30 (great going Vicky)). Therefore, her love for her husband was never great enough to end the exchange of power, therefore passing on her powers along with it, (Which weren't much) but happened to include the inspiration for Wonderland.

 

Worlds of stories are created by a mix of preexistence (J K Rowling) and creativity in their own accords that becomes a world of its own with the millions of dedicated readers. (Wonderland).

 

While Alice never technically “found Wonderland” she was the inspiration for it and they knew who she was.

 

Thanks to Tatania, that birthright and inspiration was passed onto me.

 

Their queen had been killed by the Tim Burton movies combining her and the Red Queen (who have nothing in common besides color aesthetics.)

 

The Red Queen had been replaced by one of her pawns making it across the chess board, but the cards had no real plan of who could take the throne.

 

They'd lived pretending to have a queen for years, but had looked for someone to replace her.

 

When the rabbit bit me, he'd been testing my birthright.

 

With Tatania’s powers following Alice, so would Alice’s powers (or birthright) follow into me.

 

Which is how they chose me to be queen.

 

(Record scratch)

 

Let's pause for a second to understand how the hell my reasoning lines up.

 

Most of you probably think I'm another one of those OCs that are way overpowered for pretty much no reason.

 

Tatania's powers passed onto Alice after her death. (Thanks “blessing”)

 

After Alice’s death, both Tatania's powers and her Wonderland passed onto Angie Martinelli.

 

Angie Martinelli never unlocked the magic, but worked hard with the creation of S.H.I.E.L.D.

 

After her death, all of that was passed onto me.

 

My faerie was uncovered by falling into a faerie circle.

 

(PSA. Don't go out of your way trying to fall into faerie circles. You will not be as lucky.)

 

My Wonderland birthright was discovered by the White Rabbit on that day on the Thames.

 

Happy ending right?

 

I uncover power and live happily ever after.

 

Wrong.

 

One problem.

 

Location.

 

America isn't particularly well known for its magic. (Or it's equality for that matter).

 

And I couldn't stay with my Great Uncle Eric.

 

The problem with these stories is always balancing the muggle aspects of life with the magical.

 

It's not something you can do alone.

 

I needed help.

 

The help arrived in the form of a council.

Chapter Text

I'd like to say that as a teenage queen of Wonderland, I was a relatively competent creature.  I mean, I’d like to say that, but I wasn’t. Cut me some slack, though! I’d never ruled any sort of kingdom before, and Wonderland is not what you’d call “beginner-level.” (By the way, if you have semi-permanent wings, don’t think about them during class or at the dinner table---THEY WILL POP OUT UNEXPECTEDLY) Before long, though, I made some propositions to use Wonderland resources to help mortal earth, and, almost immediately, I heard from the council.

 

What is the council?

 

The council was known as C. O. R. E. (Council Of Realities Eternal)

 

My first visit would change everything.

 

I visited the official building with the White Rabbit, unsure of what to expect.

 

The council focuses on keeping mortal earth a stable world with stable governments. Mortal earth is the foundation of all of their existence, meaning that if it falls, everything falls.

 

We were able to use the rabbit hole as a means of transportation, something that I was learning.

 

Whoever was the one to conjure a chaos break (enough madness to let Wonderland seep through) had to be sure about exactly where they were going. Distractions were everywhere and could easily diverge occupants into unexpected places.

 

(When learning, it is important to wear a jacket for accidental trips to the Arctic circle  Bringing food and pepper spray is also advised.)

 

The council’s headquarters are hidden within plain sight in Kansas, the same place that once held the farm of Dorothy Gale. It is an environment that is especially responsive to portal openings and unresponsive in terms of normal human beings. (It is Kansas after all). Once there, I was escorted to the hall by a tall, dark haired agent. I caught my breath as I passed through the strong, wooden doors.

 

The council was certainly formidable. People who I thought only existed in fiction sat before me in the flesh, making decisions that would affect my life forever.

 

I was ushered to a chair in between a lion and a fairy-like witch that I soon learned to be Glinda. (She oozes glitter. It gets everywhere).

 

I heard the sound of a gavel and turned to see a wizard that I assumed to be Merlin staring at me from across the round table.

 

“Do you know why you are here today?”

 

I sat up a bit straighter. “I received an official summons. The reason why was not a part of that summons. I'd like to know why.”

 

“You came all the way here and you are not sure why?”

 

“I was told this was a council of great importance. The late queen came here on many separate occasions to help aid in the improvement of the realities.” I smiled. “I also believe in being kind and accepting invitations presented.”

 

“Even when you don't have any clue as to who they are?” Nick Fury sat beside Merlin and stared at me.

 

“I investigate the invitations presented and am always able to defend myself if the need arises. I believe in being down to earth with my subjects. They are after all,” I laughed, “very down in the earth.”

 

“Queens of Wonderland aren't known for their reputable powers.” Zeus said from another angle. “You've only inherited the title. What else do you have?”

 

“I'm surprised at that remark. The late queen of Wonderland was known for having an iron grip on her people. While I do not wish to be cruel, I am not weak. The population if Wonderland reveres the crown and does their best to serve it. They revere me not only as their queen, but as Alice. Alice Liddell. The muse that created their entire world. I am not some empty headed teenager with her head in the clouds. When crowned, I became not only a queen, not only a muse, but a child of Wonderland. They chose me out of chance, out of their own. They see my youth and befit me with the gifts of their world.” I gestured to the faerie queen. “She has no doubt told of my claiming the mark of Tatania. Wonderland has given me their four gifts of their world. Do you know nothing of this?”

 

Zeus rolled his eyes, “What are those wondrous gifts?”

 

I stood up and stared at him defiantly. “I hold the power of the rabbit hole that invites me to travel where I so choose. I hold the power of the queen, commander over her soldiers of cards. I am given the blessing of the Cheshire Cat, the ability to disappear with only a smile remaining. Most importantly, I am given the power of reality; to alter it to my needs and the needs of my Queendom. It is not an easy power to manage, but one that can protect me and my Wonderland. My interest is the interest of my population and my world. I am a member of the mortal earth. I will do what is needed to help. I see no reason to do anything else.”

 

The council went quiet.  

 

Fury stood and clapped. “I believe we have accepted our representative from Wonderland.”

 

Chapter Text

After that official meeting, I was given an official title, office, and a few helpful tools for the coming year. I would be returning to Maine, being unable to convince my parents of staying in Europe without explaining the whole queen thing.

 

(How are you supposed to explain that? “Mom, Dad, I'm kind of the queen of a world that doesn't really exist and I also have wings.”)

 

Mab, the queen of the faeries, (look it up, that's her name) presented me with a few gifts.

 

“No matter how hard you try, you cannot complete this on your own. Find four allies of a dependable nature to aid you. You need four pillars to secure your kingdom and yourself.” She placed a box in my hand. “In here are the four charms of a queen’s foundation. The four elements of nature and the four elements of stability given to those who deserve the power unable for mere humans to have.”

 

I opened the box. Inside were necklaces of the same charm in different metals. Each charm held a heart with the tree of life. One gold, one silver, one bronze, one copper. At the bottom I noticed two others. One platinum and one rose gold.

 

“Why are there six?”

 

She smiled. “One is for your protection and the other is for your king or queen.”

 

I stared at her. “I'm too young to choose a queen.”

 

She smiled. “Tatania's blessing is also her curse. She found her love young and paid the price. Your’s is protected. It will show you your love young, but will make it true. There is a price with that. For now, leave it where it is. It will take time to truly find where love hides.”

 

I smiled, “I cannot thank you enough.”

 

“There is one more gift.” From her own hand, she removed a ring. It was tarnished and old, holding the seal of the fey, the tree of life. “This connects to our home. The ancient palace of Tatania, hidden within a tree. For centuries, we have hidden it, scared to tread the space she once walked. You are a part of Tatania. Have no fear in her home.” She placed the ring’s seal below my wings. As she lifted it up, the seal stayed, a new henna. “Find your pillars and begin to build your world.”

 

"How do I do that?"

 

She smirked. "You'll see soon enough."

 

Little did I know how soon that would be. 

Chapter Text

It was hard coming back to school after the summer. Besides dealing with a bunch of high school crap, I also had to constantly visit my queendom, work on peace treaties and diplomatic stuff, master magic, and oh, yeah. Find my pillars or whatever that means. 

 

Mab said that I would be able to find my foundation on my own, but I wasn't so sure. Instead of going to the public school (Lee) like the years before, my parents had the wonderful idea of sending me to private school. -_-. This means I went on my first day not completely adjusted back to the mortal earth world, and knowing no one. 

 

Thankfully, my theatre group remained constant. We called ourselves Theatre Studios and put on shows for families at the community center. It was a group of us meeting everyday after school, goofing off, and eventually rehearsing. 

 

I threw down my backpack and grabbed a seat at the nearest table. I have four super-close friends at theatre--Andy Penrose, Ophelia Vera, Bells Wolf and Dodie Cobbler-Pchela. They’re all very dear to me, one of the reasons being that we’re all equally nerdy. For the purposes of this story, it is crucial that I describe each of them in detail because of how instrumental they will be in our story. Here they are, in the order in which I met them:

 

Andy Penrose is tall and long-legged. She’s extremely clumsy, and hasn’t quite gotten used to the fact that her hips are almost as wide as her shoulders, so her summer-bronzed skin is usually scored with bruises. Her hair is thick, blonde and shaggy on one side as it grows out, while the other side is shaved. She is possessed of a long, crooked mouth that winds its way across her cheeks when she smiles. Blue-grey eyes are set softly into her face above a rather ordinary nose, the aforementioned crooked mouth and a strong chin. She has a human face---a capable, strong sort of face.

 

Bells Wolf, much to their chagrin, is only about half an inch taller than Andy. Their short brown hair sweeps over their snowy skin and large glasses, shading their face from passers-by. Unlike Andy, Bells’s nose is nowhere near ordinary, for instead of going simply downwards, as most noses do, it seems as though Bells’s nose took its time, meandering down their face at a leisurely pace. The result was a very long, nobbly nose that stopped abruptly and turned upwards, which, overall, produced a very elfin effect.  In fact, there is something elfin about them all together---something in the tilting chin, the delicate lips. It professes a sort of magnetism, a sort of mysterious allure that Bells carries with them wherever they go.

 

Ophelia is the smallest, but, for whatever reason, doesn’t seem that way. Her brown-blonde hair tends to cascade down her back in caramel waves unless she has it caught up in either braids or a ponytail. Strangely, its roots are much darker than the ends, and they frame a face that, although round and rosy-cheeked, carries a sort of wisdom in it. Ophelia’s hazel eyes hold knowledge in them, and when they are cast in one’s direction, one gets the feeling that they are being surveyed, that everything they are is being collected, reviewed, and catalogued in those eyes. Her lips are small, bow-shaped and rather perfect, how they part so readily to form an easy-going smile.

 

Dodie is the youngest, yet still manages to beat everyone in height by a good inch. Her hair is that color that sparks avid discussion over whether it is brown or blonde, and it spills over her shoulders and down her back, nearly reaching her hips. She is in the habit of having to brush it away from her face regularly, as strands of that long, golden-brown mane regularly fall across her cheeks. Her general appearance is possessed of incredible vitality, large dark eyes set deep into a diamond-shaped face. Her lips are incredibly elegant--really wonderfully shaped, with tall peaks and swooping lines that curve sophisticatedly around her mouth. Her entire person is smouldering, simmering, and beautifully, beautifully alive.

 

“Do they have the new script yet?”

 

Bell’s eyes lifted from their half-finished sketch of Remus Lupin. “They're going to have us vote on the options and decide tomorrow.”

 

“What are the options?” I pulled out my notebook. 

 

“A Midsummer Night's Dream, Oliver Twist, or Grimm’s Fairy Tales.” said Bells

 

I shuddered at the thought of playing Tatania. “Fairy tales wouldn't be too bad I guess. I mean, at least it's not Romeo and Juliet.”

 

“Definitely not that.” Ophelia stuck out her tongue. “There's nothing good about Romeo and Juliet.” 

 

“Amen to that.” I high-fived her and grinned. 

 

No matter what was going on, they would be at my side. 

 

Something was off though, looking from face to face. I couldn't tell what it was, but something wasn't right. I was saved my questioning when my thoughts were interrupted by our director, Thomas. 

 

“School has started, meaning that most of you feel like everything sucks. That isn't our priority right now. Our priority is to ACT. Let's focus and play some games.”

 

As we went around the circle playing zip zap zop, (an actual game that creates immense amounts of stress for no reason), I noticed Bells’ growing nervousness. I nodded to Thomas and slowly pulled them away. 

 

We slipped into the backstage and stationed ourselves on the stairs, huddled against the far wall. 

 

“Something feels wrong.” Bells held their head in their hands. “I can't tell what it is, but something feels dangerously wrong.”

 

“I feel it too,” I said, “It's just off-kilter.”

 

“Yeah,” they nodded listlessly. “I've felt like there's a part of things that are missing.”

 

Our thoughts were abruptly stopped by a crash. We jumped up and ran to the door. Looking from the stage, a dark, swirling, cloud of smoke came in, filling the doors.

 

Queen Mab’s words echoed through me. “Those who deserve the power impossible for mere humans to have.”

 

I turned to Bells, pulling the box out of my jacket pocket. “Put this on.”

 

They stared. “What?”

 

I pulled out the silver necklace and clasped it around their neck. “Bells Wolf, I name you a pillar of my queendom.”

 

They stared at me, confused. “Alice, what the heck?”

 

I jumped off the stage, my own necklace bouncing on my chest. “Get everyone out of here. If we live, I'll tell you everything.”

 

I smashed into Dodie, who was trying to hoist a chair up to throw at the cloud of smoke, now churning rapidly. I pulled out the next necklace, copper, and clipped it around her neck. She whirled around, chair in hand, and glared at me.

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

“Dodie, I accept you as a pillar of my queendom. Help me kill that thing.”

 

She whirled back around to the smoke and screamed, both hair and chair lighting on fire are she charged at it. (Don’t ask me why Dodie accepted it that easily---she’s really just that kind of person) 

 

Ophelia ran up to me, panting hard. “It's not fire, or the alarms would have gone off. Where is it coming from?”

 

I pushed the bronze necklace into her hand. “Go check around the doors. This should protect you.”

 

She stared at me in shock and nodded quickly before bolting out the side door. 

 

I pulled off my jacket, holding the last necklace in my hand as I raced through the smoke. Suddenly, a hand pulled me out of the fray.

 

“Stay out of that!” Andy screamed, eyes incredulous, clasping my arm with all her strength.

 

“I'm more prepared than you could believe--go help Bells.” Andy shook her head, not letting go of my arm. I pushed the necklace at her chest, eyes furious. “Go!”

 

My eyes met Dodie’s, whose own eyes were blazing almost as much as her hair. What had once been a plastic folding chair was nothing but hot metal sticks. I centered myself, letting my wings unfurl, and charged. 

 

(PSA 9/10 times a smoking cloud will not be some sort of mythological monster and will be a fire. With this knowledge, DO NOT BE STUPID LIKE ME AND RUN HEAD FIRST INTO A SMOKING CLOUD. I'm not just a nerd, I'm an idiot too.)

 

The cloud receded at the touch of fire, creating a safe entryway through the inky darkness. Once inside, the smoke curled inside, stifling the air around me. I breathed hard, greatly aware of the chaos inside my mind. Chaos. Enough for a break. I opened a hole below me and fell through. Find Dodie. Find Dodie. Find-

 

I fell through the end, crashing into Dodie (who was still on fire by the way) and falling into another hole. Center, center, center-- WHAM! We collapsed onto the ground (most likely suffering first degree burns), in the exact center of the smoke-creature, or whatever it was. It jerked away from the fire, giving us a wide berth.

 

I collapsed in exhaustion, the world seeming hazy before my eyes. Reality was changing. Reality. My eyes went wild and I grinned with a manic thought. I'm the queen of Wonderland. Nothing is impossible in Wonderland. It can be weakened in Wonderland. In through the fog that seemed to have clouded my brain, I watched it struggle as it tried to hold its strength. I spread my hands wide, changing and reshaping it with every breath. 

 

It uses reality, and I am the queen of a changed reality, a reality that bends and shifts, never stays the way it should. Never fits into their wants. It changes. 

 

I poured my energy, watching it slowly crumble as I manipulated its strength, it's density, until--

 

It shrunk into itself, falling into its folds until it fell into a person. Suddenly, Ophelia ran in, almost colliding with a now extinguished Dodie. I looked at them, smiled, and promptly fell unconscious. 

 

(Now you may say that that's a stereotypical way to end it. I MANIPULATED THE REALITY OF ME AND A WHOLE BUNCH OF OTHER PEOPLE. I DO BELIEVE THAT IS A LEGITIMATE REASON TO LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS)