asgardmeridiem | (no subject)

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Who: (Elder) Alice and open
What: After the school fire, Alice more or less blacked out and slept for a few days, only to wander out while hallucinating. She finally wakes up.
When: Day 422
Where: All over Asgard
Warnings: May have potential triggers or content warning here for mental illness (i.e. disassociation and hallucinating), but nothing fairly extreme. I just want to make that pretty clear, since these things can be sensitive in nature.

The rest of it seems to be a blur.

Or rather, a big, big blotch of black ink on paper, from a fountain pin onto white paper. It spreads and spreads, until the blinding white is consumed by black. Darkness. She feels herself falling and falling -- but there is no rabbit hole to speak of, just a sinking feeling until she hits something. Hard.

She had fallen off the bed, not that she would have noticed. In an lucid dream, Alice had staggered out of doorway, down a flight of stairs that seemed too endless for her memory, as if she was going further and further into darkness again. The ground was rumbling and in her mind, she envisioned snakes and wolves, climbing up a hill made of doll heads and skulls, past grey visions of figures with no faces to spare. "LOOK AT ME." She hears them screaming.

But in her mind, Alice had kept her head low, her head ringing as she staggered forward, bare feet hitting the cobbled stone street, as Alice was remembering something... something terribly vague. Triangles... shards. Absolutely hysteric! Glass? A vision of her arms red, black and white. Blood red. The rage box? No, that was left in Wonderland.

"Worry for others can end up damaging you, Alice."

She can still glance back to the Dollhouse now and see them glancing through the windows waiting for safety. But had she not gone through a window? No, that couldn't be it. She could recall smoke and climbing through a window, but it seems to blur. She was seven in that memory, not nineteen. Alice finally glances down at her hands, sure that there were shards of glass in them, but.

There's nothing. No burns, no scratches, no cuts. Nothing.

"I've could have sworn-"

She was consumed by her visions, which is, sadly, not terribly unusual for her. She flexes her trembling hands, turning them front to back to inspect them. Not a trace on her pale skin, nothing more than the sickly parlor of her skin and veins. Was it just her imagination running loose? It may take a few more moments, but Alice is currently pulling herself back up off the ground, clutching her head as the headache subsides.

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Her shoulders drop has her disappointment grows. She can't go further back, she's not strong enough or has the energy. She's a bit hungry and a little cold. Absolutely disoriented and no one can really answer her questions. However, if a memory is so terrible that it's erased, is it even worth recovering?

It's frightening. It scares her that she's actually considering leaving it as is. Maybe Pyro would know?

Or perhaps North? Or the most desperate consideration of all -- Will?

Suddenly, Alice is feeling fairly dizzy and the thoughts wrap her up, pulling her down hard. She's losing control, again, her mind is growing weak trying to remember-

Without warning, Alice keels over to her left, still very much awake and conscious but her dizzy spell renders her to her knees.

Immediately Maglor comes over, abandoning harp to kneel beside her and reach out.

"Lady!" There is very real concern in his voice, for all that he doesn't know her yet. "Lady, what ails thee?"

Any day, Alice wouldn't really become agitated at a display of concern - genuine concern - nothing that's forced or faked. She's stumbled out of somewhere, she doesn't remember why, and he doesn't remember her? This isn't very funny, Asgard, and Alice is done. It was supposed to be better than London, but now she's growing afraid that it isn't.

Alice flinches, only to scowl in return. Sometimes she doesn't take stress very well, rubbing her head, "It's Alice! My name is Alice!"

She doesn't mean to yell, but he was supposed to be more rational than she was or at least she already set him up in her mind to be. How can he not be? Why does she keep second-guessing herself?

"Why can't you be you? What happened here? Something must of happened otherwise, I wouldn't have lost any sort of memory of it."

Maglor, for his part, doesn't bat an eye at the yelling - she's hurt and distressed and he's had worse yelled at him in such states.

"Lady Alice then." Ever so carefully he reaches out to brush her hair from her face from where he crouches before her. "I am sorry I cannot be the person you remember. For your sake I hope that I am that person, and that he will return to you with the answers that you seek, and soon. Until that time, will you let me aid you? I cannot return your memory to you, for such is beyond my abilities, e'en had I my full strength here. But I can help you rest, a while."

For Alice, she flinches quite violently from the touch, as if she was about to be struck on the cheek. She tenses up, sucking in a breath, her hands going into her dark hair to cover her ears.

Who keeps demanding her to look at them? Who keeps telling her that?

Her eyes are level to the ground as her head spins more and more, as she tries to remember who or what said that. Suddenly it feels cold and wet. Alice shudders.

"What good does that do?" She doesn't mean to be curt or even remotely hurtful, but this situation stresses her out. No, no, no.

Alice braces a hand against him, pushing distance between them. Gently. "I can rest, but don't touch me. I don't like being touched."

"My apologies, Lady Alice." He backs away immediately, not wanting to distress her further.

"Little, I know, in a time like this. But song is all I have to offer you, here and now, until the one you seek returns."

He really hopes that he is the person she is looking for - and it gives him hope, that he might yet find a way out of his cursed situation.

She desperately needs to rest- no, she's rest enough. It feels like she has, and the vague hints of her nightmares and visions distress her further. She can relax, a little.

No, not really, she's not sure who she's looking for or the answers she's seeking other than to clear her mind once again. One's own mind shouldn't be so difficult to understand. She glances back at him, still not able to get back up in fear of stumbling again, she crosses her arms, trying to stay a little warm.

"I don't think you can help me, unfortunately. I often dream while I'm awake and wake up in strange places," She mutters in attempt to be reassuring to him, "But I'm not mad." Alice insists rather quickly.

This is... actually fairly normal to an Elf, who can waking-dream?

"You wander in your sleep then?" Maglor murmurs softly. "I do not think you mad, Alice - tis a common thing when one is distressed, as I understand it?"

Alice could be frustrated to the point of tears at this rate. She gently shakes her head, her dark hair falling into her face.

"No," It's not that simple, she wishes it was. Being self-conscious doesn't help any. There's no words for it, simply nothing. "Then wouldn't I be able to remember what was distressing?"

"Some dreams are too dark to remember, some memories too painful to look at too closely." says the Elf who tries not to sleep for fear of his dreams.

"Yet, all things come to light in the end, though painful may be their unearthing."

She should really be used to it by now. She knows this.

What's wrong with you, Alice? You should realize this by now. But why the great desire to know? Although he's not quite the same and there's something off about him entirely, it consoles her a little. She's little too weak to get back up and her emotions play a role in it.

Sometimes things are just too complicated, but ever since Bumby? Alice would prefer to remember things, even the most heinous.

"Painful or not, all memories are important."

"They are." he nods. "But it makes it no easier to face them, at times."

He looks back towards where Elrond lies sleeping. "Elrond there has lost mother and father, and this place has sundered him from his brother as well, now. He told me that his dreams are full of tears, and he sleeps easily now only when I sing for him. They make him, those memories, but it does not make it easier for him to face them. Perhaps that is why I can aid him so, for my own past is marred with pain even greater than his."

"That boy...?"

Alice soon realizes who he potentially may be. That boy wasn't so much a boy, but the man she spoke to before. The memory had nearly been lost in her fatigue and heinous visions. It had been exactly like Altair, she realized. Even little Alice. For a moment, Alice is lost in her thought, seemingly distracted by the thought process she looks back at him.

She won't utter her realization, other than a nod. "I thought he was your son; the both of you look very much alike."

Maglor's eyes soften as he looks back towards the sleeping child when Alice says that.

"I wish that it was so, but no - our bond is far more wrought with pain than that. And we are related, though distantly. His grandmother is my half-cousin."

Misery likes company, apparently; it seems fitting, regretfully. But she would say that blood or not shouldn't matter. She shifts, still holding herself in her nightgown, glancing to the side.

Well, this could be even more awkward when she does get the courage to just ask.

"May I ask you a favor, Mr. Maglor?"

He does not speak of their true relation to each other right now - that of captor and hostage. He loves the boys as best he can, and he already knows that he cannot keep them - they will be old enough soon, for him to return them to their kin.

"Ask, Lady Alice - if it is in my power to grant, I will."

Hopefully, he can. If he doesn't recall anything much like others who found themselves in similar situations, Alice is out of luck. Alice wants to pick up where she left off, she wants to still train and become more skilled in her fighting. She wants to resume her life in Asgard as if nothing happened -- which is unlikely, she knows this.

"If you really do remember, can you come looking for me?"

He looks at her, this young woman-child, and feels a swell of compassion, and wonders if this is how his other self feels.

"Even if I do not, I will if you wish it. But yes, I will come."

As for Alice, herself, she starts a slow, slow process of trying to get herself back on her feet. She isn't sure what else she can do now other than see if her footsteps can be retraced, if anything. She has to try and of course find her blade when she can.

She frowns, "I'm sorry, Mr. Maglor, I'm afraid I need to find where I came from. I don't exactly remember." With a wobbly start, Alice brings herself back on her feet, still ducking her face behind her dark hair. Not only is it a little alarming, it's rather embarrassing.

He does not offer to help her up, remembering her admonishment about touch, but he waits til she has her feet under her before standing.

He bows once, formal and deep.

"May the stars guide and guard you to that which you seek." He says simply and smiles at her.

When he turns to walk back to Elrond he is already singing.

of far away stars and great forests
of the wind that blows from mountains that never knew people
of the song of the sea, wild and forever calling

"Hopefully you regain your senses sometime soon," She mutters to herself, as she starts to make her way to a few places she could have been, even as a nagging feeling compelled her to seek out her younger counterpart. She just had to get back to her blade, that's all. And back into real clothing, out of this insanity.

Hopefully.

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Maglor is so very sorry Alice

it's all good, lol, she's just mad at the situation ;o;

Maglor has a tshirt. It says I AM SORRY FOR EVERYTHING EVER

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