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    welcome to across the chessboard! we're an alice in wonderland based site with an original plot and slight modern dystopian twist and canon characters from alice's adventures in wonderland and through the looking glass and what alice found there, both by lewis carroll. for a longer summary, please visit our information center here. if you have any questions, feel free to give an admin a shout in the cbox (it's to your left- just click the chatter button and it should pop open). again, welcome, and we hope you join us!

    it is currently summer 2015 in london.
    it is currently summer-ish in wonderland.

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    Wonderland wasn't always this way. There was a time when it mirrored medieval England, albeit with a few magical elements: a few quirks and eccentricities that made it truly unique. While all feared the Queen's mercurial temper and the fine blade of her Guillotine, all was well, until a little girl named Alice Liddell disturbed the status quo and sparked a revolution. The kingdom began to fall into decay as the taint of the modern world invaded. History is beginning to repeat itself and no one is happy. As the Queen of Hearts tangles in a battle of wits and riddles with the Cheshire Cat, the rest are starting to wonder ... is it true that the White Rabbit is bringing humans to Wonderland when they themselves are banned from going to London?

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 Until the sun hides, Open
seol eun-ki
 Posted: Jun 26 2015, 06:35 PM
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The flower garden seemed so desolate devoid of chattering flowers. Eun-ki visited often enough when he was a pencil-bird, drawing on trees and generally ignored by the populace. Sentient creatures preferred to speak to equally vocal creatures. Eunn-ki wasn't sure what drew him to the garden after all this time. Maybe he wanted the blissful silence and lack of chattering. Or maybe he needed something new to draw. The walls of his small cottage were papered with various strips of parchment, from abstract lines to detailed portraits of old faces. There was a particularly nice one with the rabbit before he became human, ears poking up from the rabbit hole.

But maybe he could recreate the flowers in their hey-day. Could he remember every detail of the flowers ? Or no, better yet what if he drew them in their human form? Wait, he wasn't certain he'd met all of them just yet. A serial piece. Yes, maybe that's it. Eun-ki sidestepped the drooping edges of a large, purple mushroom - a little out of place, truth be told - and dug the soles of his boots into the soft earth. Still fertile. He wondered if it would lay dormant forever, this land, or if someone would turn it into a beautiful garden of flowers without voices. Or maybe build a botanical garden away from the royal gardens.

He was thinking too much. With effort he put aside his thoughts and tried to soak in the beauty of the empty garden. Grass and weeds had long-since overtaken the spaces the flowers once resided and there were a number of thornier vines and bushes than before, probably thanks to the twisted disease on Wonderland. The atmosphere wasn't unwelcoming the way the Tulgey Wood seemed to be but it wasn't exactly welcoming either. Truth be told, it hadn't been altogether welcoming before either.

He found an overlarge, lumpy rock to plop his bum down upon and pulled off the satchel slung over one shoulder. A sheaf of blank papers stuck between a spiral notebook, giving him freedom to do whatever caught his fancy. He pulled out the notebook first and plucked a single sheet of blank paper, lying it atop the sturdy notebook cover. With casual flicks of the wrist, he outlined the rough clutch of enormous blades of grass, the backdrop of a blank garden. He used charcoal, carefully shaved to a point and blunt at the end to serve as a handle. He didn't mind smudging his fingers black for a while. Charcoal was one of the more malleable tools he'd found on the other side of the glass. Thankfully he stockpiled writing utensils before the portals closed down.

Now, what to create?

Quand je marche dans la rue, la rue vers le Sacré-Cœur. Je me souviens des promesses au nom de l’amour. Je vais t’attendre là viendras-tu pour moi?
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trista rafferty
 Posted: Jul 18 2015, 01:43 AM
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Sunny days. Always sunny days in wonderland that brought about a reminder that more than likely the sun could come hurtling its way at them. Or at least that was the case in Trista's train of thought for the day. Her arms clinging around her in some self supporting hug as she walked to the garden. To her home. She missed the soil. The feeling of her roots taking in the rain.

Her eyes lowered from the clouds that followed her in the sky. The billows foretelling that there seemed to be a plausible chance for rain. She would just sit through it and cry with the sky. How it looked over her like a bad omen. Her emotions were already surging through her. An array of chaotic sorrow that overtook her the majority of her life. She stumbled into the garden. Steadying herself on a nearby tree. How was it possible that she seemed to be this clumsy? Simple. She still had trouble getting the hang of her legs. Years upon years of having them and she still tripped and fell due to her own clumsiness. She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't land on her face nor her ass. Her eyes looking around to make sure no one was around to guff her about the matter. Tiger lily would have more than likely sent her into a crying fit. How the girl could be so cruel but she was her sister and Trista loved her just the same.

Her own delicate fingers brushed back wild long strands of black hair. Why couldn't her hair be white like her petals? Yet oddly enough she liked her hair only because he had. How she missed him dearly. Her human heart ached for him. But even the thought shattered at the possibility that to much time had passed. That he had forgotten her. The thought was constant. A reminder that she failed him. A reminder that she failed herself. She was cowardice and that was that. The thought irked her. Plaguing her violently with the reminder that she had unintentionally abandoned him.

She bit her lip at the thought. Her arms once again wrapping around her as she finally came to where she normally rested. The ground still disturbed from where she and her sister rose up from. Her mind on other matters as her fingers brushed into the soil. How odd it felt between human fingers. Caking under her nails of her left hand. She rubbed the matter between thin fingers before letting fall back to the earth of Wonderland. She missed the soil. Things were so simpler then. She never knew love and her cowardice was hidden. She finally came to kneel before the bed. Tears already rolling down her cheeks. A dirty left hand now raised to rub away the tears as she smear the soil on her face.

She cried softly. Oh how she cried gently that she barely even bothered to whimper. She missed her roots and with that her hands covered her delicate face. Hiding it away as her sorrow spilled gently from her eyes. Her soul crumbled as it always did. That had not changed one ounce since her form changed. All her sorrow remained just in some flesh and bone figure now. Her face finally lifted up towards the sun.hands working to wipe away her tears as she sighed out before her hands turned to the weeds that overtook the garden. She pulled at the ones that she could get out from her old spot. Having yet to realize that someone seemed to occupy the garden as well. She squeaked loudly an, "Ouch!" She pulled her hand away from the spiky spines of a weed that refuse to budge from its place. "Stubborn as weed." She muttered gently as she held her hand close to herself.

So sorrowful is the day
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seol eun-ki
 Posted: Jul 28 2015, 04:14 PM
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seol eun-ki


Eun-ki had his hands full, balancing the notebook on his knees. A broad-stroke landscape of the garden spread in black and white across the pages, from various angles and sizes. Charcoal smudged both hands and up the side of his left forearm to his elbow. He barely noticed the sun's path across the sky, nor the clouds creeping upon the horizon. His whole being centered around the crisp pages, the whisper of charcoal scraping over thick vellum. He saw the world as he always did; as though the pages craved thick lines here, soft curves there. Beauty spilled from his fingers as though he were possessed, switching pages as the muse struck him.

While ambidextrous and well learned in various forms of art, Eun-ki sometimes craved his old life. He drew beautiful mosaics and grand landscapes across anything he could reach, carefully sharpening his pencil beak with pride upon rough stone. He never questioned, before the opening of the portals, why his beak only dulled but never ran out. Human utensils were so easily broken or discarded, he found their constant need to be replaced or chiseled to a proper shape exhausting. It was then, when Eun-ki slid the pages to the dark soil beside his feet to reshape the rotund end of his charcoal stick, that he heard the cry.

Eun-ki leaped to his feet, scouring the vicinity. It was a stroke of luck the young woman cried out just as Eun-ki paused, as he might very well ignore an earthquake when caught up in his work. He followed the sound with quick steps, happening upon the teary-eyed woman cursing the weed. He dropped to his knees, heedless of the mud now caked along his well-pressed slacks, and held out a hand. "Miss? Are you alright?" With the other hand, he dug around in his vest for a handkerchief - he carried some form of cloth on him at all times, being a messy sort of artist - to offer her. "Is there anything I can do?" His face contorted, concern and discomfort clearly outlined around his mouth and between his brows.

Emotional comfort was not something in which he excelled. He could offer any number of useless facts, from every president of America in order to the various ships used to the East India Trading Company, the number of cricket matches ever played and the leading teams for the past two hundred years in order. But he was inept at giving advice and offering emotional support. But he tried vigorously as he held out his hands to the young woman, nerve-wracked and hoping he had one iota of comfort to give.

[[My sincere apologies for taking so long to respond! Work's been pretty hectic, but that's no excuse. I'll be speedier the next post I promise! Also I really adore Trista <3 I can't wait to read more about her!]]

Quand je marche dans la rue, la rue vers le Sacré-Cœur. Je me souviens des promesses au nom de l’amour. Je vais t’attendre là viendras-tu pour moi?
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trista rafferty
 Posted: Aug 16 2015, 11:04 PM
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"Oh my!" She felt the words fumble from her lips as tears stained her cheeks. Her unharmed hand moved to her face to wipe away the spilling tears."I'm sorry..." She spoke as she tried to collect herself which so happened to be an utter failure at this moment. "No... No... No... It's fine." But that seems unlikely with the tears that continued to fall in her dirt stained face. Her face contoured as the tears tried to flow into rivers down her face. She felt her head hang low in defeat due to the weeds.

Swollen, sad blue eyes raised to look at the hands offered before her. Her still slightly injuries hand rested within her lap. She felt her good hand slide into his. How small it felt to hold his hand. "I'm sorry. I by no means want to cause you trouble. A fragile voice spoke from her. Delicately fractions with every word spoke. As if at any moment it would shatter into nothingness.

The thought made tears starting to fall again. She was too much of a burden to this man before her. "I'm sorry." She said again. Her head shook slowly. Causing loose strands of black raining around her features. She looked at the wounds on her hands. "Stupid weeds." She muttered. She rose up to her feet. The caked mud falling from her shins and knees.

"I'm Trista by the way." Her tear stained eyes looked to the man before her. It was hard to place faces in wonderland now that everyone had become flesh and bone. Even her own sisters looked different to her. It was much to take in. Who could this man possibly be?

(Sorry this took some time to get to you and it's a little short.)

So Sorrowful is the Day

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seol eun-ki
 Posted: Aug 22 2015, 06:29 AM
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Eun-ki had a problem of taking things at face value. It was part of the reason he loathed 'fiction'; even metaphors confounded him. His lips pursed and his brows furrowed in confusion. The girl said she was fine and yet she wept. "You don't seem fine," Eun-ki was so far out of his element. He really should stop leaving the library without a translator or book of human emotions. Psychology book, yes. One of the smaller reference books in relation to emotional distress. But that was such a vague interpretation. Comfort techniques? Procedures for trauma? Eun-ki shook his head vigorously, tousling his hair as he forced the thoughts from his head. Focus. In the now, not in his head.

Gently, he dabbed the cloth at her cheeks and wiped away a few of the tracks from her cheeks, though he had no way of figuring out how to cease her sorrows. He bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. "There's no reason for you to apologize." Eun-ki announced with a jut of his chin. He wondered briefly if, in fact, there was some reason for her to feel guilt. But nothing came to mind. "This is nothing like a burden. A burden is using a teaspoon to move the sands of the Sahara desert to Antarctica without a boat." He'd thought about it once, after having read tales of Rumpelstiltskin. For nearly two weeks he'd taken every word of the Brothers' Grimm to heart--and their ideas had some grotesque and depressing denouements.What a waste those two weeks had been!

"Weeds are horrible invaders," Eun-ki agreed, glowering at the encroaching flora. "Can't you beasts leave well enough alone? The flowers have already vacated, must you deface their precious soil?" Every Wonderlander knew how the flowers loathed the weeds, even once calling Alice herself a weed. Unwanted sycophants who drained the soil of nutrients and upset the lovely ladies - and dandelion. Eun-ki hadn't been able to do overmuch against the weeds when he was no more than a small bird, and sadly had done very little upon gaining appendages. It was still sad, though. Some thing are sacred.

Eun-ki peered at the girl curiously. Was she...?

Having not spoken with every creature living in Wonderland - before or after the changes - Eun-ki knew very few people by both human name and wonderland designation. He was certain he hadn't met all the flowers over the years, though one or two certainly. This girl could easily be one of them. Her reaction to the weeds, for one. But he dared not make assumptions. Instead, he gave her an encouraging smile and held out his hand. "I'm Eun-ki by the way." Casting a glance at his fingers, he winced and pulled them back. smudged and nearly black, they weren't exactly a friendly gesture. "Sorry. Charcoal can be such a nuisance. I never manage to scrub it all out of my fingers." As if having fingers at all wasn't shock enough.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Trista." He smiled as warmly as he knew how. Hard to be sure how others took his expressions, as they rarely observed and critiqued his practiced human emotions. "Might I help you get rid of the weeds? Nasty things they are. And quite rude to stick their roots where they don't belong." He gripped a large clump and yanked, fighting their unruly roots until the dirt collapsed and released them. Before she could possibly respond a negative, Eun-ki had his hands in the weeds again, determined to help Trista in the only ways he knew how. As emotional support was downright impossible, he could offer his hands instead. That's what they were there for anyway, right?

Quand je marche dans la rue, la rue vers le Sacré-Cœur. Je me souviens des promesses au nom de l’amour. Je vais t’attendre là viendras-tu pour moi?
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