Aʟɪᴄᴇ Pʟᴇᴀsᴀɴᴄᴇ Lɪᴅᴅᴇʟʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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undergrounds2015-08-17 05:59 pm
digophelia) wrote in undergrounds2015-08-17 05:59 pm
Entry tags:
Whisper the prayer of transformation.
A- Returning to London , the tub
She waited with both great apprehension and joy for her release out of the hospital. Ten years and Alice was already making a list of the things she'd go see. She wanted to see the parks she used to play in, the old ports she would visit, and Hyde Park was on the top of her list. She was practically shaking with excitement when she was waiting patiently for her release. The doctors had given her a slew of medication -- not a surprise. Anti-psychotics, benzodiazepines, SSRIs, and some to help her sleep at night. All of them with a big, bulky folder of directions, phone numbers, and other sort of paperwork with names and such. When she first entered care, she barely spoke a word, and now that she was being let go, Alice barely spoke a word, again. No goodbyes offered, even if nurses, patients, and doctors tried with her, Alice tore out of the hospital without a second look.
She was free again.
Hyde Park was quite a distance away -- she'd have to take public transportation to get there. And, of course, to get a cup of tea on the way there, since her medication often made her feel sluggish. As soon as Alice is out in the real world again, her reaction isn't that of joy and there is no running about. The world is much bigger than she remembered and much more frightening. Alice had left it, deeply shaken. She couldn't really greet anyone on the way back to the subway or anywhere else. She kept her head low, awkwardly rubbing her cheek or combing her hair, all odd little tidbits of hers when she was nervous.
She was terrified. Alice thought to herself what she could possibly be thinking. Upon getting on the old routes her family used to take to the coven (which, by now, Alice had memorized), she took it up to the assigned housing, with only a bag of clothing and her things, nervously teetering away on the train, with her old stuffed rabbit firmly in her arms. Alice was eighteen years old, but her skittish disposition and short, malnourished stature surely presented her as someone much younger and the stuffed rabbit didn't help. She looks like a child and acts the part, ducking her head as people passed by her. While the idea of looking at others filled her with dread, her mind was racing with thoughts and visions.
Today could be an off day.
B - Redbright Institute, because Alice is lost
Two days after her initial release, Alice secluded herself to sleeping in a bed of her own, with no round the clock check ups from doctors. She slept tightly with her rabbit -- but decided that the bed wasn't enough halfway through the night and took to under the bed. When she awoke, Alice was combing through notes and drawings -- clues to her past and where to go. She was obsessed with remembering these things, the jittery little thing kept them in a notebook, pieces of papers popping out of pages. Redbright Institute. Now she remembered, that was one place her father worked at, one place she knew would give her clues to where to go and what to do.
The world was still very much bigger than she thought, so stepping upon the campus isn't what she expected. It was bigger than she remembered and very foreign. And Alice spent a good time pacing about outside, carrying her rabbit firmly in her arms until she worked up the courage to speak.
Sort of.
She probably hadn't spoken a full sentence in months, so her matter of speech was strange, almost monotone and low. Sucking in a breath, the small, Alice tried to ask for help and where to go -- no one helped her, she jumped into this without thinking.
"Sorry," She mutters, keeping her head low and her rabbit close to her chest. She wasn't this meek, she nearly forgot how to interact with others. "I'm lost? Help?"
If that even worked, if she could formulate a sentence, but talking to others again was so difficult.
C - Coffer's Shop
It is not a coffee shop she's familiar with; her father had a penchant for the fancy coffee shops, in which he met some of his colleagues there, or, according to her older sister, he goofed off at them, playing chess with others. Tea sounds nice -- it sounds great. Upon entering the shop, Alice takes a sigh of relief that it's not busy. Still clutching her rabbit in one hand, Alice fumbles with her side bag, feeling around for the coin purse -- she stuck some money in there, she's not sure how much.
What she does remember is the smaller pleasures helped a lot, but ordering tea was proving to be a difficult feat, especially for a girl who was struggling just to talk to others. One step, just one step that was recommended in therapy to deal with social anxiety. She watches how others order and what they do, standing at the counter before she steps up bravely and orders tea.
Just plain chamomile, since anything caffeinated will rile her. As soon as she gets it, Alice nearly runs over a patron, whisking herself to a nice, quiet corner.
"Sorry," She mutters lowly, keeping her rabbit and cup of tea gripped tightly in her hands before she continues.
D - Wildcard!
She waited with both great apprehension and joy for her release out of the hospital. Ten years and Alice was already making a list of the things she'd go see. She wanted to see the parks she used to play in, the old ports she would visit, and Hyde Park was on the top of her list. She was practically shaking with excitement when she was waiting patiently for her release. The doctors had given her a slew of medication -- not a surprise. Anti-psychotics, benzodiazepines, SSRIs, and some to help her sleep at night. All of them with a big, bulky folder of directions, phone numbers, and other sort of paperwork with names and such. When she first entered care, she barely spoke a word, and now that she was being let go, Alice barely spoke a word, again. No goodbyes offered, even if nurses, patients, and doctors tried with her, Alice tore out of the hospital without a second look.
She was free again.
Hyde Park was quite a distance away -- she'd have to take public transportation to get there. And, of course, to get a cup of tea on the way there, since her medication often made her feel sluggish. As soon as Alice is out in the real world again, her reaction isn't that of joy and there is no running about. The world is much bigger than she remembered and much more frightening. Alice had left it, deeply shaken. She couldn't really greet anyone on the way back to the subway or anywhere else. She kept her head low, awkwardly rubbing her cheek or combing her hair, all odd little tidbits of hers when she was nervous.
She was terrified. Alice thought to herself what she could possibly be thinking. Upon getting on the old routes her family used to take to the coven (which, by now, Alice had memorized), she took it up to the assigned housing, with only a bag of clothing and her things, nervously teetering away on the train, with her old stuffed rabbit firmly in her arms. Alice was eighteen years old, but her skittish disposition and short, malnourished stature surely presented her as someone much younger and the stuffed rabbit didn't help. She looks like a child and acts the part, ducking her head as people passed by her. While the idea of looking at others filled her with dread, her mind was racing with thoughts and visions.
Today could be an off day.
B - Redbright Institute, because Alice is lost
Two days after her initial release, Alice secluded herself to sleeping in a bed of her own, with no round the clock check ups from doctors. She slept tightly with her rabbit -- but decided that the bed wasn't enough halfway through the night and took to under the bed. When she awoke, Alice was combing through notes and drawings -- clues to her past and where to go. She was obsessed with remembering these things, the jittery little thing kept them in a notebook, pieces of papers popping out of pages. Redbright Institute. Now she remembered, that was one place her father worked at, one place she knew would give her clues to where to go and what to do.
The world was still very much bigger than she thought, so stepping upon the campus isn't what she expected. It was bigger than she remembered and very foreign. And Alice spent a good time pacing about outside, carrying her rabbit firmly in her arms until she worked up the courage to speak.
Sort of.
She probably hadn't spoken a full sentence in months, so her matter of speech was strange, almost monotone and low. Sucking in a breath, the small, Alice tried to ask for help and where to go -- no one helped her, she jumped into this without thinking.
"Sorry," She mutters, keeping her head low and her rabbit close to her chest. She wasn't this meek, she nearly forgot how to interact with others. "I'm lost? Help?"
If that even worked, if she could formulate a sentence, but talking to others again was so difficult.
C - Coffer's Shop
It is not a coffee shop she's familiar with; her father had a penchant for the fancy coffee shops, in which he met some of his colleagues there, or, according to her older sister, he goofed off at them, playing chess with others. Tea sounds nice -- it sounds great. Upon entering the shop, Alice takes a sigh of relief that it's not busy. Still clutching her rabbit in one hand, Alice fumbles with her side bag, feeling around for the coin purse -- she stuck some money in there, she's not sure how much.
What she does remember is the smaller pleasures helped a lot, but ordering tea was proving to be a difficult feat, especially for a girl who was struggling just to talk to others. One step, just one step that was recommended in therapy to deal with social anxiety. She watches how others order and what they do, standing at the counter before she steps up bravely and orders tea.
Just plain chamomile, since anything caffeinated will rile her. As soon as she gets it, Alice nearly runs over a patron, whisking herself to a nice, quiet corner.
"Sorry," She mutters lowly, keeping her rabbit and cup of tea gripped tightly in her hands before she continues.
D - Wildcard!
no subject
Like a needle or something, but that's an irrational thought. She gives a small affirming nod -- a yes, that would be fine, until it dawns on her that she didn't really answer his question.
"I'm not very good with directions," Alice admits softly. Or rather, the heavy dosage of medication today make it difficult for her to focus. "I'm not very good at my craft, either." Alice seems to blurt out, only because she feels she owes an explanation as to why she's here.
no subject
But at least she'd provided a good avenue for conversation.
"Your craft? A witch, then? Missus Redbright will be happy to hear that, I'm sure."
no subject
A witch -- she nods "yes".
"My father taught here... Arthur Liddell," She hopes if she offers up his name, it might sound familiar. But her father was just as quiet as she was.
no subject
He wishes he could tell her he knew the man, but he certainly won't lie to her.
"But I'm sure we'd all be glad to have his daughter here."
no subject
She is somewhat disappointed, though not entirely surprised by this. She hides that disappointment well, gathering her notebook close to her chest. It was exciting, she could finally pick up where she left off. Out of the world of humans and back to her family's people, back into the world she was supposed to know. Why did it still fill her with dread?
"Then-" She speaks timidly, glancing around and then back to him, "Never mind."
She does what she can to stay close without pushing her personal bubble, "Are you not a witch, sir?"
no subject
He smiles as he says it, glancing back at her. It's always a strange thing to explain to new students. The differences between witches and metahumans. Then again, defining what a metahuman was often proved difficult enough.
"I'm what's called a metahuman. Rather a broad range, I'm afraid."
no subject
If there was one other race other than vampires, humans certainly made her nervous, for obvious reasons. At last, as soon as Alice sees the doors to the admissions office, Alice lets out a sigh of relief. But then came the next part -- talking to others about classes and what she wants.
no subject
At the door to the office, he stopped, giving her another smile and a nod. "Here we are."
no subject
"Thank you."