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crossover_chickThis is what I get for not drinking coffee stuffs.
-VD: o.O? What's wrong?-
Metody offered to split a frappachino with Victor because the poor guy was looking so hot. Now, I knew a frap was a kind of coffee drink from Starbucks, and you all know Victor's rather exaggerated reaction to caffeine. However, I thought, "Half a cup of that slushy sweetened stuff? It shouldn't have too bad an effect on him."
I look it up today. Apparently it's made with espresso.
-RPD: *facepalm* Vic!-
Mea culpa! At least the soda incident taught him about his reaction -- he'll stop drinking if he notices his speech suddenly speeding up. Hopefully it'll be good otherwise, though -- there's extra chocolate and whipped cream involved. :D
-HD: . . . *has a look on his face that clearly says "I cannot believe I'm considering drinking COFFEE."*-
*giggles*
Anyway, not much to note today -- more RPing, watched "Terminator 2" (it's been AGES since I saw it), and played on a Twitter-based Spy Game. Currently at Level 3 -- I'm the casual, weekend spy. :p
-VD2: More accurately, it's Clockwork, since he's the one with a Twitter account.-
Hmmm, true. *tries to imagine Clockwork as a spy -- it's a difficult picture to call up*
Anyway, I feel like posting some Victor/Alice. As T2 has me in a somewhat-angsty mood, let's have that fic I was forced to poke around with:
16. Invincible – So Long And Goodnight
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort. . . .”
Alice sat at the front of the church, staring numbly at the coffin. How had this happened? How?
“As all live, so all die. . . .”
She’d known they were getting older. The signs were hard to ignore. Her hair had gone completely grey, and Victor’s had gone white. They’d both had to get glasses for their failing eyes. Victor had nearly given up drawing thanks to his arthritic hands, while she’d stopped stalking the Jabberspawn after a scrap led to her having to use a cane. They’d definitely started to run down.
But for all that, Alice had never expected Victor to stop completely. To just go to sleep one night and never wake up. It didn’t seem right.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, meta-essence to meta-essence. . . .”
Alice managed to tear her eyes from the coffin for a moment, to look at her companions. On one side was their closest Wonderland friends – the Cheshire Cat, his habitual grin all but gone; the White Rabbit, standing still as a statue; and the Mad Hatter, his top hat held in his lap out of respect. On the other were her and Victor’s three children and their families – Chester, looking utterly miserable as he clung to his wife; Lucille, sitting with her head bowed and tears running down her cheeks; and Lorina, pale as a ghost and sniffling softly. Alice’s heart twisted. Victor was going to miss so much of their lives now. The Cheshire Cat’s riddles. Lorina’s younger son’s wedding. The White Rabbit’s racing about. Lucille’s son’s new job. The Mad Hatter’s latest invention. Chester’s second grandchild. . . .
She looked back at the still figure of her husband. He looked like a wax statue, lying there, hands folded over his chest, eyes closed. Too still to be real. She felt her eyes tear up as she remembered waking up just a few days ago, trying to rouse him – only to discover his body stiff and cool. She’d never thought – how could he die before her?
How could she still be alive without him?
The White Bishop finished his eulogy. “Would the relatives of the deceased like to say anything?” he asked gently.
Chester stood up first. “Goodbye, Dad,” he said, voice trembling. “We’re all really going to miss you.” Unable to get farther, he sat back down again.
Lucille was next. “Goodbye, Father,” she said softly. “I – I hope the Land of the Dead is giving you the warm welcome you got before.” She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and took her place again.
Lorina stood up. She only managed to choke out, “Goodbye, Daddy,” before being overwhelmed with tears and sinking back into her seat.
Finally, Alice rose and approached the coffin. She looked at Victor, then reached behind her and pulled out her Vorpal Blade. She looked at it for a moment. Even after the restoration of Wonderland, she’d carried it with her almost everywhere. It was her main weapon, the symbol of her strength. With it at her side – with him at her side – she’d felt invincible.
She leaned over (wincing a bit as her back protested) and gently tucked the knife under Victor’s folded hands. “Wait for me,” she whispered. “I’ll come for you when I can.” She placed a final kiss on his cold lips. “I love you, Victor.”
And as she stood, she could have sworn she heard a ghostly voice whisper, “I love you too, Alice. But – didn’t I usually have the fork?”
Pretty sad fic for the prompt, huh? I knew I wanted to do something that reference Alice feeling invincible with Victor at her side, but I'm not sure how it morphed into a funeral fic.
-TD: That's depressing. Though I guess it's good to know he doesn't go until he's old, right?-
-TTV: That version of myself, anyway. It's -- creepy, reading about one's own funeral. . . .-
*patpats* I bet. Sorry. I still haven't pinned down an exact age for the death, though I know he's in his early 80s. Alice follows him to the grave two years later, leaving their kids in charge of Wonderland.
-DW: This looks much the same as you wrote it -- what did you change?-
That middle section where Alice's thinking about what Victor's going to miss -- I was thinking like the kids were in their 30s, instead of their 50s for whatever reason. So "Lorina's younger son's wedding" was originally "Lorina's wedding."
I actually made up a family tree for them on a whim in Paint, showing how the family grows up to the great-grandkids:
As you can see, Chester really IS a clone of his father. The fic also originally said "Lorina's oldest daughter," but you can see here I forgot all about that and gave her two sons. It was easier to change the fic that the picture, in my opinion.
-VDM: The Van Dort name is hanging on by a thread there.-
Heh, yeah. I was determined to continue it, though, so I made sure there was a son in each generation. One of these days I'm thinking of doing a Van Dort family tree to end with Victor, if I can come up with enough names.
Additional trivia -- the final line is a callback to the fic "Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee," and the title is a lyric from the My Chemical Romance song "Helena." I had no idea what to call the fic, and that seemed as good as anything in the end.
Okay, that was a little depressing. I'm off to read Etiquette Hell for a boost.
-MF: Yeah, wedding thoughts are a lot nicer than funeral thoughts.-
-VD: o.O? What's wrong?-
Metody offered to split a frappachino with Victor because the poor guy was looking so hot. Now, I knew a frap was a kind of coffee drink from Starbucks, and you all know Victor's rather exaggerated reaction to caffeine. However, I thought, "Half a cup of that slushy sweetened stuff? It shouldn't have too bad an effect on him."
I look it up today. Apparently it's made with espresso.
-RPD: *facepalm* Vic!-
Mea culpa! At least the soda incident taught him about his reaction -- he'll stop drinking if he notices his speech suddenly speeding up. Hopefully it'll be good otherwise, though -- there's extra chocolate and whipped cream involved. :D
-HD: . . . *has a look on his face that clearly says "I cannot believe I'm considering drinking COFFEE."*-
*giggles*
Anyway, not much to note today -- more RPing, watched "Terminator 2" (it's been AGES since I saw it), and played on a Twitter-based Spy Game. Currently at Level 3 -- I'm the casual, weekend spy. :p
-VD2: More accurately, it's Clockwork, since he's the one with a Twitter account.-
Hmmm, true. *tries to imagine Clockwork as a spy -- it's a difficult picture to call up*
Anyway, I feel like posting some Victor/Alice. As T2 has me in a somewhat-angsty mood, let's have that fic I was forced to poke around with:
16. Invincible – So Long And Goodnight
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort. . . .”
Alice sat at the front of the church, staring numbly at the coffin. How had this happened? How?
“As all live, so all die. . . .”
She’d known they were getting older. The signs were hard to ignore. Her hair had gone completely grey, and Victor’s had gone white. They’d both had to get glasses for their failing eyes. Victor had nearly given up drawing thanks to his arthritic hands, while she’d stopped stalking the Jabberspawn after a scrap led to her having to use a cane. They’d definitely started to run down.
But for all that, Alice had never expected Victor to stop completely. To just go to sleep one night and never wake up. It didn’t seem right.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, meta-essence to meta-essence. . . .”
Alice managed to tear her eyes from the coffin for a moment, to look at her companions. On one side was their closest Wonderland friends – the Cheshire Cat, his habitual grin all but gone; the White Rabbit, standing still as a statue; and the Mad Hatter, his top hat held in his lap out of respect. On the other were her and Victor’s three children and their families – Chester, looking utterly miserable as he clung to his wife; Lucille, sitting with her head bowed and tears running down her cheeks; and Lorina, pale as a ghost and sniffling softly. Alice’s heart twisted. Victor was going to miss so much of their lives now. The Cheshire Cat’s riddles. Lorina’s younger son’s wedding. The White Rabbit’s racing about. Lucille’s son’s new job. The Mad Hatter’s latest invention. Chester’s second grandchild. . . .
She looked back at the still figure of her husband. He looked like a wax statue, lying there, hands folded over his chest, eyes closed. Too still to be real. She felt her eyes tear up as she remembered waking up just a few days ago, trying to rouse him – only to discover his body stiff and cool. She’d never thought – how could he die before her?
How could she still be alive without him?
The White Bishop finished his eulogy. “Would the relatives of the deceased like to say anything?” he asked gently.
Chester stood up first. “Goodbye, Dad,” he said, voice trembling. “We’re all really going to miss you.” Unable to get farther, he sat back down again.
Lucille was next. “Goodbye, Father,” she said softly. “I – I hope the Land of the Dead is giving you the warm welcome you got before.” She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and took her place again.
Lorina stood up. She only managed to choke out, “Goodbye, Daddy,” before being overwhelmed with tears and sinking back into her seat.
Finally, Alice rose and approached the coffin. She looked at Victor, then reached behind her and pulled out her Vorpal Blade. She looked at it for a moment. Even after the restoration of Wonderland, she’d carried it with her almost everywhere. It was her main weapon, the symbol of her strength. With it at her side – with him at her side – she’d felt invincible.
She leaned over (wincing a bit as her back protested) and gently tucked the knife under Victor’s folded hands. “Wait for me,” she whispered. “I’ll come for you when I can.” She placed a final kiss on his cold lips. “I love you, Victor.”
And as she stood, she could have sworn she heard a ghostly voice whisper, “I love you too, Alice. But – didn’t I usually have the fork?”
Pretty sad fic for the prompt, huh? I knew I wanted to do something that reference Alice feeling invincible with Victor at her side, but I'm not sure how it morphed into a funeral fic.
-TD: That's depressing. Though I guess it's good to know he doesn't go until he's old, right?-
-TTV: That version of myself, anyway. It's -- creepy, reading about one's own funeral. . . .-
*patpats* I bet. Sorry. I still haven't pinned down an exact age for the death, though I know he's in his early 80s. Alice follows him to the grave two years later, leaving their kids in charge of Wonderland.
-DW: This looks much the same as you wrote it -- what did you change?-
That middle section where Alice's thinking about what Victor's going to miss -- I was thinking like the kids were in their 30s, instead of their 50s for whatever reason. So "Lorina's younger son's wedding" was originally "Lorina's wedding."
I actually made up a family tree for them on a whim in Paint, showing how the family grows up to the great-grandkids:
As you can see, Chester really IS a clone of his father. The fic also originally said "Lorina's oldest daughter," but you can see here I forgot all about that and gave her two sons. It was easier to change the fic that the picture, in my opinion.
-VDM: The Van Dort name is hanging on by a thread there.-
Heh, yeah. I was determined to continue it, though, so I made sure there was a son in each generation. One of these days I'm thinking of doing a Van Dort family tree to end with Victor, if I can come up with enough names.
Additional trivia -- the final line is a callback to the fic "Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee," and the title is a lyric from the My Chemical Romance song "Helena." I had no idea what to call the fic, and that seemed as good as anything in the end.
Okay, that was a little depressing. I'm off to read Etiquette Hell for a boost.
-MF: Yeah, wedding thoughts are a lot nicer than funeral thoughts.-
