Alice sat on one of the stone struts in the Clocktower plaza, gazing despondently up at the night sky. How long had she been there? Weeks? Months? It was so hard to judge the flow of time in Wonderland, with sunset sometimes leading into afternoon, afternoon into midnight. The shift was always sudden and near instantaneous, plunging the inhabitants into sunlight or shadow. The true residents of Wonderland seemed to be able to tell how long these time periods were, could even predict when they’d change. Alice could not; to her, they seemed as sudden and jarring as when she’d first been brought there.
Brought. More like kidnapped.
The girl sighed, the wind blowing through her blond hair. She held up the small glass vial, the small amount of liquid therein catching the pale moonlight.
When the vial is full, the game will end, and you can return home.
That’s what she’d been told. But was it really true? She was starting to doubt it.
At the moment, she was feeling melancholy…and incredibly homesick. So Alice merely gazed up at the sky, trying to take comfort in the fact it looked just like the sky back home.
At least, until it changes again, she thought miserably. Is this even really a dream? And if it isn’t…does anyone even miss me?
She was startled out of her troubled thoughts by the sound of footsteps. Alice turned, peering into the shadows beyond where she sat. “…who’s there?”
Floating to the ground, crimson form is immediately met with a strong gust of wind. Again. ’A different way of travel, I must admit…‘ The air lifts him off of the ground, again, and sends him flying several hundred feet, again. This plain has such an annoying system of travel, but as this is a return trip, he is nonetheless expecting it. His first visit to this strange moor had occurred quite by accident, back when he had been searching for a cure to the Geostigma, before he had learned of its true nature. He remembers, it had been here, of all places, that the words alien matter had occurred to him. Strange characters he had met, and stranger still had been how he had awoken afterward in his own bed. This place was, is, simply eerie. Uncertain of his destination, he notes that he has finally landed at the edge of a rather…exquisite city. The sunlight from the grasslands quickly dies out. Fallen leaves crunch underfoot, and whispers from all manners of creeping things reach his enlightened ears. The city, so far, is sleeping, and it suddenly seems to have become night; how queer, as it has only just been noontime out in the open. Hn. Passing though walls of buildings in an alley, the shadows seem to shift. A large clock tower comes into view over the pointed roof of a house, and the light reflects from the face to read late at night. Nothing in this realm, he remembers again, ever seems to make complete sense. Wonderland, they had called it. But…it seems he has forgotten who “they” are. Emerging into a dimly lit square, he spies a young maiden seated near the tower. She notices his footsteps immediately, for though he remains quiet, the sounds seem to reverberate throughout this place. He cannot remember her, but as this place…is not normal, perhaps he is not meant to. Coming into the dim light of her area, he pauses, arms folded across his chest. Gazing down at her in something of a wary leer, he purse his lips. “…”
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