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paixaorpg2008-07-24 11:20 pm
seldomfollow.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2008-07-24 11:20 pm
Down the Rabbit Hole, Through the Looking-Glass, take your pick [Open]
Character(s): Alice, open
Content: In which Alice finds a great big overturned bowl and loses her name.
Setting: Vanaheim gate
Time: probably morning
Warnings: logic has no place here.
It was actually not all that uncommon, by now, for Alice to find herself one minute in one place and the next in another place altogether, with very little space in between, and thus, when she came upon an immense dome sitting in the center of a vast brownish plain, it seemed to her just another oddity.
Although a very odd oddity indeed; what it was was fairly straightforward, but she could hardly decide what it was doing here. It looked to be an upside-down bowl, easily, but only a giant would have any use for a bowl of that size - "or perhaps I've just shrunk again," Alice said to herself, as this was equally possible. "Either way, they'll soon realize they've misplaced it, I hope."
In the meantime, however, finding nothing else of particular interest out here, she decided to have a closer look at the bowl, and shortly found a tall, decorated doorway in the side of it. Nearby it stood a shortish queue, and rather than barge straight in ahead of them, Alice chose to join it and wait her turn, which came soon enough.
The gatekeeper was, oddly enough, neither a fork nor a knife nor a spoon. In fact, Alice realized a little belatedly, he was just an ordinary man. "Might I have your name?" he asked, not looking up from his notepad.
Alice blinked at the strange request. "My name? I suppose so," she answered. "But only if you give me yours in return, or else I'd have nothing to be called."
The man paused, then sighed and shook his head. "No, just tell me what it is. I just need to take it down."
"Down where?" said Alice.
"Down here," and the man indicated a spot on his clipboard, at the end of a list.
Alice examined the list and frowned. "But you have so many names already," she observed. "I don't see how one more would make a difference. And I'd still need one back," she remembered suddenly, and leaned over the desk to point at one, "maybe that one? sǝuoɾ ǝuuɐ-ʎɹɐɯ? Wait, I don't think I'd like that one after all." (She couldn't read upside-down, of course, and the name she did read sounded rather ugly out loud.)
The man rolled his eyes derisively. "I don't care what you call yourself. What's your name?"
"But I thought you didn't care?" said Alice, getting a bit cross by this point. "Do you want it or don't you?"
"Yes!" said the man.
"Well, then, it's Alice, or it was, at least," she replied, folding her arms across her chest - "but what is it to be now?"
Whether the man heard her question or not, he simply handed her a small, flattish red box and some glossy papers, and answered, "Welcome to Paixao, here's your journal, enter through the gate please, and enjoy your stay."
Alice didn't move, but began counting on her fingers - "that was four names at the very least," she thought - but a second later she was shoved out of the way by the next person in line, without so much as an "excuse me." "Well!" she exclaimed, smoothing her skirts and turning toward the gate. "I should hope not everyone here is as rude as him," she said to herself, "or I doubt I'll be enjoying much of anything about here."
Content: In which Alice finds a great big overturned bowl and loses her name.
Setting: Vanaheim gate
Time: probably morning
Warnings: logic has no place here.
It was actually not all that uncommon, by now, for Alice to find herself one minute in one place and the next in another place altogether, with very little space in between, and thus, when she came upon an immense dome sitting in the center of a vast brownish plain, it seemed to her just another oddity.
Although a very odd oddity indeed; what it was was fairly straightforward, but she could hardly decide what it was doing here. It looked to be an upside-down bowl, easily, but only a giant would have any use for a bowl of that size - "or perhaps I've just shrunk again," Alice said to herself, as this was equally possible. "Either way, they'll soon realize they've misplaced it, I hope."
In the meantime, however, finding nothing else of particular interest out here, she decided to have a closer look at the bowl, and shortly found a tall, decorated doorway in the side of it. Nearby it stood a shortish queue, and rather than barge straight in ahead of them, Alice chose to join it and wait her turn, which came soon enough.
The gatekeeper was, oddly enough, neither a fork nor a knife nor a spoon. In fact, Alice realized a little belatedly, he was just an ordinary man. "Might I have your name?" he asked, not looking up from his notepad.
Alice blinked at the strange request. "My name? I suppose so," she answered. "But only if you give me yours in return, or else I'd have nothing to be called."
The man paused, then sighed and shook his head. "No, just tell me what it is. I just need to take it down."
"Down where?" said Alice.
"Down here," and the man indicated a spot on his clipboard, at the end of a list.
Alice examined the list and frowned. "But you have so many names already," she observed. "I don't see how one more would make a difference. And I'd still need one back," she remembered suddenly, and leaned over the desk to point at one, "maybe that one? sǝuoɾ ǝuuɐ-ʎɹɐɯ? Wait, I don't think I'd like that one after all." (She couldn't read upside-down, of course, and the name she did read sounded rather ugly out loud.)
The man rolled his eyes derisively. "I don't care what you call yourself. What's your name?"
"But I thought you didn't care?" said Alice, getting a bit cross by this point. "Do you want it or don't you?"
"Yes!" said the man.
"Well, then, it's Alice, or it was, at least," she replied, folding her arms across her chest - "but what is it to be now?"
Whether the man heard her question or not, he simply handed her a small, flattish red box and some glossy papers, and answered, "Welcome to Paixao, here's your journal, enter through the gate please, and enjoy your stay."
Alice didn't move, but began counting on her fingers - "that was four names at the very least," she thought - but a second later she was shoved out of the way by the next person in line, without so much as an "excuse me." "Well!" she exclaimed, smoothing her skirts and turning toward the gate. "I should hope not everyone here is as rude as him," she said to herself, "or I doubt I'll be enjoying much of anything about here."
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