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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 2:28 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:03 pm
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Pages flew about the room, the slips of parchment making a flapping sound as they floated to the floor. An open book with a falling spin and green cover turned several pages backward and stopped after the early winds had died. The motionless body at the front of the desk was still, except for the rhythmic fall and rise of the chest and the occasional twitch that would rupture through her sleep. "Damned I be if she didn't have to sleep in everyday!" A lesser maid, plump and aging, muttered, obviously weary of the scheduled wake up call. She pounded on the door alas, cursing her, the person inside, and the gods for giving her a crummy life.
The body would rise of course, yet slowly and trudged to the door begrudgingly. She would open it, if only to stop the noise on the other side and peeked outside. "What?" She would murmur in a raspy voice, as if having the maid wake her up everyday was uncommon. "Did you bring me breakfast?" She asked, apparently still sleepy as she closed her eyes for a moment and let her forehead lean against the doorframe. The maid, now irritated, put her hands on her hips before flicking the other female's nose. "Now, Lady Fortuna, for once could you please get yourself up on time or do I have to do this everyday like your mother-" The maid stopped. It wasn't well known, no, but it wasn't a secret that Camille's mother was a prostitute and the Wonderland gods knew that her mother would never, ever get her out of bed. Not only on the account that she was far dead now, but for the fact that her mother was a sleazy, irresponsible good-for-nothing. So, Camille by this time had slammed the door in the maids face and tottered back to her desk, where she had seemingly fallen asleep the night before. When she wasn't accounting on the Prince or doing errands, she was writing her novel. Most commonly, Camille would stay up all night just to think about what to write for a line or two. She looked at her paper to see what she should've written in her disillusioned sleep but found nothing. With such dissapointment, Camille would slam her head once or twice on the table in fustration before cleaning up after herself and picking up the slips of paper scattered about. She turned to glance at the window; it was sunny out already and the wind she could've sworn she felt was seemingly nonexistent. She closed her window and got dressed quickly and simply before she gathered her schedule and files. She darted out of her room, now late, and headed for the throne room, where the new Prince of Wonderland probably awaited. She stopped by the kitchen, horribly starved, and grabbed a slice of warm bread before snarfing the thing. How she could run in heels and dress? Only the gods would know.
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:18 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:29 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:30 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:48 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 3:56 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 6:08 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 8:47 pm
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Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2012 9:02 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2012 12:20 am
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2012 10:34 am
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2012 1:20 pm
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"What do you mean I'm fruity lookin'?!" Ren leaned forward, his hands now fists on the wooden counter. "If anything, I'm just pretty," he muttered slightly under his breath, tilted his head a little with distaste. The insult didn't offend him as much as he let it off to be but he was always very lively in his conversations. His fists loosened and then dropped, before Ren cupped his cheek in the palm of his hand as he sat behind the counter of the local tavern. He was often a regular here despite Ren being not much of a drinker, especially so in the morning. No, he mostly came here for the crowd, besides the teasing being so often, and took homage to the burly men seeking sanctuary from their annoying wives.
The bartender laughed and shook his head, pasing off a light drink, what most would call a 'woman's drink', towards Ren who swallowed it quickly. "It's just that I don't want to get drunk!" He murmured, shaking his head. The bartender chuckled at Ren's excuse. "Right," he replied, not believing exactly what the man before him said. He had known Ren for a couple years now and if he knew anything, it was that Ren was a very, very bad drunk. Ren, whose cheeks were already pink, nodded, as if in total agreement. He glanced to the bartender's wrist, where a medium band of leather buckled and wrapped around. It was a watch. Ren tilted his head horizontally, as if to check the time before standing. "I can't be drinking so early in the morning." He pushed the glass away and ran a hand through his dark hair, as if weary. That was, being a rebel leader, in secret of course, was tiring. He had to organize his members, set up missions, strategize, spy and gather information not only did he have to look after the stragglers, provide everyone with their necessities and make sure things went to plan. He stood and lifted his head, knowing well the bartender would put the purchase on his tab, before sauntering to the tavern door.
Ren licked his lips and yanwed, stretching his arms upwards before a sneeze interrupted his momentary peace. He rubbed his nose but to no avail, another sneeze ruptured through his body. Obviously now flustered and slightly agitated, Ren strode hastily to his shop. The tailor business didn't make much, but Ren didn't complain. He rather enjoyed sewing and the various fabrics, loved to design and fashion the next trend. That was, Ren didn't love tailoring as much as acting, no, acting was somewhat of a lost past for him, a passion that he couldn't quite succeed in. But nonetheless, the tailor shop, not only serving as his home, but would also serve as headquarters for his rebel members. A hidden back room often provided a safe sanctuary for them. Ren yawned again, headed in that direction down the street, past the tattoo parlor, the whore house, and the small corner restaurant, and there it was. He opened the door slowly, as if not wanting to go inside, and brushed aside the red, purple and blue fabric, which was adorned in gold beads and embroidery, that covered the entrance. And upon entry of the shop, the flash of a light stopped Ren and he looked up but found nothing but the morning sky. He grew curious as to what that was and glanced down both ends of the street, though almost no one was up just yet. He closed the door and locked it, despite not entering in the first place. He turned, where he could of sworn the light came in that direction, and smiled.
That was, until he sneezed again.
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2012 2:09 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2012 2:19 pm
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