by Randomly SmuRfy
I don't know everything, but, I'll admit, there was once a time that I believed I knew a lot about the part of everything I knew. Women, for example, used to be my forte. The women of Wonderland are all the same: flighty, dim-witted, with low self-esteem, and yet, conniving, what with the tools they need readily available to them - truth serums and emotion manipulators and all that. They are deftly distracted and even more easily bored. Shiny objects and grandiose gestures sweep them off their feet as effortlessly as sweeping dust across a marble floor. But romantic acts only last for so long.
Trust me, I know.
Considering my, for lack of a better word, vast experience with the Wonderland women, I assumed all women were the same, Oysters included. So, imagine my surprise when drenched from head to toe, her light blue dress clinging tightly to her curves, this Alice Hamilton showed up in my tea shop. She was attractive, her pale blue eyes contrasting sharply with her olive complexion and auburn hair. My first thoughts after lying my eyes upon her were far from innocent. It was not until she resisted my less than subtle advances that I realized she was not like the other women I had encountered.
In the short period of time I've been with her on this journey, I have fought and argued and reasoned with her stubbornness more than with anyone I have ever known. She has a response for everything I throw at her. She's quick-witted and sure of herself. And what infuriates me the most is that she will not to trust me. Granted, I screwed up taking her to Dodo. I should've known that he was too hot-headed to talk with rationally; that was my fault. But, there was something about her refusal to give up how Jack got ahold of the Ring and why he chose to give it to her that registered in my mind she was not just some money-making tool.
Now, staring over at her past the flickering flames of the fire Charlie skillfully built, I can see just how different she is. I have never met someone so headstrong - and not in the demeaning manner Dodo used it. An Oyster, who stumbled into this world unlike her own yet she still retains her confidence. She's level-headed enough to not get caught up in the splendor and fantasy of a storybook come to life. She doesn't complain about hiking through the woods in heeled boots. She has no problem eating an creature I'm positive did not exist in her world that was cooked over a fire in the middle of nearly abandoned ruins. Sure, she has an issue with heights, but everyone has their vice.
She doesn't wear layers upon layers of make-up that would cake up her naturally beautiful features. The women I have known know nothing of the term modesty. Their entire lives depend on flamboyancy and theatrics. And here is this girl, who has escaped the Suits, fallen in the river and swam to shore, fought off the man that tried to put a bullet through my heart, barely dodged a Jabberwock, and never once whined about her nails breaking or her mascara running. She has this air of simple aesthetics that I am slowly finding irresistible, and I have naught the slightest idea why.
This girl, who may not be the Alice of Legend but is just as impressive as the first, that refuses to stop searching for the man she loves. And, she does. I can see it in her eyes. Everything that happens, everything that she says, it is catapulted by this Jack Chase. Never in my years have I had a female fight so painstakingly hard for my sake. It's admiring and heartbreaking at the same time. "Jack's a lucky guy," I mutter.
She looks up at me with an annoyed expression. "What?"
"Nothing," I lie, shaking my head. With the motion, I attempt to shake the disconcerting effect she has had on me off. I mumble something about getting some rest, not wanting to ruin my new found discovery with yet another argument. Jokingly, I suggest we hold off until the morning for another fight then walk away to find a place to sleep. Though, sleep is likely to evade me tonight. This is the first time that natural human emotions, emotions not obtained from a small vile or bottle, have impacted me so intensely. I can literally feel the blood mixed with electricity pulsing heavily through my once dormant veins; it's almost painful.
After pacing back and forth at the tree line for a good ten, fifteen minutes due to the thoughts flying around my skull, I finally concede and decided it is time to rest. Tomorrow will more than likely bring an onslaught of disagreements, and it will take all the strength I have not to willingly give in to the beautiful brunette that now sleeps in the bed Charlie graciously gave up. I find a soft and dry plot of dirt surrounded by a few fallen wooden beams. Exhausted, I drop down and make myself comfortable. It has been a long day and the subsequent one is sure to be just as lengthy, if not more.
Author's Note: I honestly wish this could have been longer, but oh well. Considering how long it has been since I really wrote something substantial, I'm quite proud of myself. But, I couldn't have done this alone. Andrew Lee Potts did an interview about the movie - and the link is on my profile. It was very well done, and I couldn't help but incorporate some of his thoughts about his character and Alice. It interested me to see what he saw whilst portraying such a lovely invention like Hatter. I will try to refrain from fully fangirling over him, but after seeing him in Alice, I immediately immersed myself into the world of Primeval. It did not disappoint at all. Connor Temple is the most adorable character, and Andrew definitely knows how to pull on the heart strings. Whenever Connor cried, I cried, and, honestly, I am not an easy crier. I have to say that show is a job well done.
Okay, enough gushing. I'd love to know your thoughts.