Disclaimer
Spoiler Warning to those who have not played the game nor read the comics. This role-play has taken two opposing stories and ideas only to collaborate them together. The game "The Wolf Among Us" (based on a comic called Fables) and the many stories of "Alice in Wonderland". After being aware of the various lore that Fables, Wonderland and TWAU has provided, the story/RP below has taken elements of both stories in order to combine them. Due to the pairing, there will be some minor and major changes (for those who are heartfelt fans of either series, we thought you should be aware). The RP begins after The Wolf Among Us, Season 1 and all choices from the game will be mentioned when necessary.
Synopsis For once, the world seemed just a little bit too peaceful. Many folklore, fairy tale, myth and legends sought out a comfortable place to stay after their homelands had been taken by the Adversary. Those known as Fables had retreated to the Mundane World (our world) and the year has occupied itself as 1986 in Manhattan, USA. The area in which they have been relocated to has been identified as Fabletown. For those without a human-like form (toads, pigs, trolls, etc) are told to pay for what is known as a Glamour, an enchantment they must receive in order to seem human. Citizens of Fabletown must remain quiet and in tact and not show their true forms to others in the Mundane World known as Mundies. Although a glamour is quite expensive and those who cannot pay the toll are forced to move to The Farm, a so called safe haven that allows those without glamour to run around as they so please. Of course with every community, there comes a government.
Due to a recent fall of the government, Snow White has taken over as Deputy Mayor whilst Bigby Wolf finds himself sticking around as the Sheriff, enforcing the laws where the Mayor see fit and fighting for their citizens wants and needs. After the horrid murder of two young women by the names of Faith and Lily, the citizens of Fabletown have grown quiet. Citizens assume the Crooked Man manipulated another Fable into the horrible act of murder. Due to these acts, he had been placed away under the spell of a crow in a small gold cage as punishment. As it stands now, Fabletown is somewhat safe, or so they assume. It wasn't until a month after these events that murder had risen once again...
- - -
Even still, the thoughts ran heavily through his mind. The idea that he had possibly allowed someone to get away with something so drastic? It still haunted him with every waking moment. There was not a time he looked at himself in the mirror and saw a traitor, that he had looked to the confident and somewhat content citizens of Fabletown and felt guilty. Even when facing someone as important to him as Snow had him trying to escape the moment that withered around them. After speaking with someone he thought he had a connection with, someone he thought was so pure and innocent with the words that escaped her glossed lips it had become more clear to him that he couldn't trust everyone that walked into his office, that he passed on the street, that he got information from or that he had known for a long time. How had he not placed the pieces together? How had he been so blind to just not see what was right in front of him the whole time? In a roundabout way, he was disappointed and angry with himself but to let anyone know? It was impossible. Keeping this secret, it was the only thing he could do. Staying silent? It was apparent he did so. The last thing he wanted, the last thing he needed, was to have the citizens of Fabletown hating him for the very mistake he knew he made...
"You're not as bad as everyone says you are,"
Those words still haunted him. They dragged out every second, every minute, every hour of every day and made it twice as long. On a good day, his mind would be so busy that the very thought of Faith would only come to him when he had a moment to spare, when he wasn't so busy tending to others and their idealistic problems. If only escapism was possible. If only he could go back to the way things were, if only he could return to the beginning than perhaps he wouldn't have had to point the fingers he had. He knew he made mistakes. He knew he'd been a bad person. He knew that he had to do what he needed in order to survive, to protect those he found himself caring about. It hadn't even been about himself and what he believed in, but what the town backed him up on. What they believed he could and could not do. Of course it was a given that now he was deemed the protector of this town. That he was the one person who could look out for each individual in their current state.
Although he knew that his title still scared them. Just because a title bound behind his name and called him a Sheriff did not mean he was really anyone that special even though sometimes he wished he was. Wanting to change the stars that aligned his very path. Fate was not so easily changed in all it's fortunes. To his demise, he knew that fate did not hold him in its favour. The citizens of Fabletown did not easily trust nor did they easily accept change within their lives. He knew that he still frightened them, scared them, that they shook when he got angry. One day perhaps, one day when he wasn't such a fuck up. Perhaps then, they would accept him for who he was.
-
Knock knock knock...
Not even an hour of rest and already his eyes were on the brink of destruction. Red veins had coursed through them, strings of blood that begged him to rest yet again. His body tired, weak, drained of all movement. Perhaps just one more wink of sleep, at least one more hour that his body needed to recharge. Closing those petty eyes ever so slowly to enjoy a good regeneration. Realistically the consequences were uneventful. Knowingly, sleep was not precisely needed even if the thought crossed his deceptive mind. The cursed nap he'd provided his own body would've done better had he just disagreed with it entirely. With his mind already tormenting him night after night he was unable to think of anything else but Faith and what she had done to him, to all of them. What guilt he was still holding inside. Just one more ounce of sleep, just one more was all he was asking for. Just a little bit of time to discard the attention his mind placed on something so significant. If only it meant nothing to him, if only he could push it away. But he knew better than that. Sleep would not cover anything. Sleep would not assist the very thoughts that mistreated his mentality. Even in the land of dreams they sought out his deepest darkest secrets and held them accountable within a nightmare. Being reminded of all the innocent people involved, of all the harm he'd done in his life, of the countless lives he'd taken in the past, all the people he'd eaten-
"Bigby, open up!"
A recognizable voice, for certain. It was that same voice that he felt his own damn heart pulsating in a negative direction. Pain filtering through his body as his head turned to face the door. What time was it? Had he really only obtained one whole hour of sleep? It felt nearly five minutes. With a hand on his blue stained chair he'd force himself up on his feet, clothes still very much in tact. Unable to remember the last time he'd truthfully changed them and alas somehow never ended up with a horrible scent. Headaches did not revolve around him, not often at least. Unless his head was willing to muster itself against the pavement than perhaps so but right now the only headache he could possibly get would be from the lack of sleep he seemed to get. Pulling himself from the chair was not the difficult part. Pulling himself together was more so the hardest.
With a quickened pace, he ran a hand through his somewhat natural greasy strands, grasping at the lock with his other as he sooner than later; opened the door. His blood stained eyes soon met with bright blue ones that snapped him back into reality. Snow White, yes. Of course who else would it have been? He knew her voice on the other side of the door but these days, he wasn't one hundred percent certain whether or not the dream land kept him safe or not. But this moment snapped him back into reality. The strong alluring scent that Snow had, it not only brightened his sleeplessness but also his mind. But something was wrong. Her eyes were wary, worried, fearful. Something had happened. Bigby Wolf's brows furrowed in despair, misunderstanding, concern and disillusion. What was going on? He had to know.
Not a word was truthfully explained, he knew the walls were paper thin. Snow would have said something instantaneously had she wanted the public to know. This must have been urgent. Concentration seemed to be accurate here. Speed was with them, the both of them, it was nearing almost midnight. Snow was sleepless as well, he could tell just by looking at the natural bags that bore underneath her bright blue eyes, lashes as long as ever without the slightest hint of makeup. He followed even without a word being spoken. They had an untrained understanding of one another, they had to. As partners in crime, with Snow being the Deputy Mayor, he had to contain that very strange connection he had with her. Even if she hadn't realized it, even if his intentions were as pure as day itself with her, his obsessions were similar to that of which Crane's once were. But he had never acted upon them, he couldn't do such a thing to her. Dishonouring her the way that that sluggish creep had always done. How he used glamour to obtain Lily, using her the way he had. Had he been in a similar situation, his mentality would not accept such things. He knew deep down he couldn't go through with it. He could never take advantage of such an attraction. Besides, her scent was the most alluring thing about her, he was obedient to her every command. Willingly he would bow before her if she asked him to and that alone said enough towards his loyalty. Grasping the HuffnPuff brand of cigarettes that rest in his slacks he'd push one out. A shit brand that every sacred soul in the sluggish town found obscene and disgusting. He'd been the only person who smoked such a brand, at least that he knew of. Everyone else called it wretched but he could not. The smell helped, it dominated the very sweet addiction she was. Lighting the cancer stick with a zippo, his senses were soon soothed.
They left the building, only to drive a quiet distance. It wasn't until then that Snow spoke up. Bigby had been told of a body, a body of someone that he may have known of, a man she thought he may know a little bit about. But when told his name, his expression did not falter. Of all the people in Fabletown, he was not all too surprised on the outcome. That was up until the car came to a halt and he was faced eye-to-eye with the wretched scene of what had become of The Hatter. With one last long drag from his cigarette, as the world slowed down just a tick of a pace, Bigby took one large leap forward into the case, hoping to whatever humanity was left of this scene that there were witnesses or even suspects to such a disaster.
-
Early morning had arrived quicker than he thought. His mind was still attempting to wrap around the very idea of losing one of their own; yet again. But who was to blame? Who was to blame but himself? Taking everything to heart, it was all he could ever do. Crane told him long ago that he was supposed to be the one person who kept the town safe and yet again; he failed. What had happened to The Hatter? Who had done such horrible distorted and inhumane things to him? A part of him wished it were a Mundy, if anything it had to be one of them. But no, deep down he knew in his big beating heart that a Fable did this. One of them must have done it. A weapon of peculiar abilities, with magic perhaps attached, but nothing that Bigby had ever seen before, not even once in his life.
Step by step, he made his way down the very hall that echo'd in his name. Towards his office. Already he'd spoken to two witnesses earlier that evening. Two lone girls that spoke sweet sorrow to him, explaining they both had seen a girl with golden locks at the scene. But when asked her name or if they knew of it, they seemed uncertain and wary and explained to him who she was.
Alice.
That was her name. Bigby ran the name over in his head hundreds of times trying to wrap his head around the very idea of her. Having never truthfully looked into her tale he had to wonder if she had anything to do with this. They'd gotten in contact with her instantly, as best they could, knowing quite well she may not show up, just as most had seemed to skip out on. With a file in his hand and slow yet steady walk, he stopped at his room. The door was closed. Snow had told him 'She's waiting for you' and all he could hope for was a steady case here. Perhaps she could lift some evidence for him, perhaps she would admit to doing it if she had been the one. Alas he did not know if that was for certain, he didn't know if any of this was for certain. All he had to do was open the door. 'Open it' He'd tell himself, over and over in his head.
Through slow motion he opened the door. Time slowed down, his heart even came to a delightful stop. A heavy pang in his heart almost broke him. It was not with his eyes that he saw her, but with the scent that filled the room. A scent he had never once taken in before. It lured him in, it instantly drove him crazy, a perfume that riddled him confused, a scent that over powered his very thoughts of Snow. That had him baffled with all bewilderment. What was that scent that aura that begged him for more. Etching him on as he slowly closed the door behind him. He had to speak, he had to do something, he had to get rid of whatever it was that caused his heart to rush this quickly. Never in centuries had he smelt something as delightful as this...
"Alice, is it?"
Ignoring the very essence of what he had taken in, he'd walk around the table in the slowest of manners, taking his time as he'd allow the closed folder to fall down onto his desk. The room filled with disorganized papers and finished boxes of Chinese food that were probably a week old. Taking a seat across from the girl, his brown eyes took the very attention of her own. Gripping his box of cigarettes once again from his pocket he'd grasp it out with his lips and light it within seconds. The scent was much too strong, it was absolutely murdering his own mentality. He had to rid of it, and just barely and only barely, had it done such a thing. The scent of his shitty cigarette had overpowered her perfume and with a hand reaching forward, Bigby held out the pack to her as though to offer her a stick of his own personal favourite brand. But he knew in all honesty, he was in much more trouble than she was for she was one of the fairest he'd ever lay eyes on, let alone took in the very scent of.
It were as if in the blink of the light of the former day a nightly presence had come in with such an invigoratingly unsuspecting front, that had done well to show address to the irregular circumstances of the particular beholders jurisdiction for nothing quite seemed as simple as the turn of day to night. Such things had become a background aspect of much more sinister powers at hand, as time had seemingly shifted from it's former meaning. To everyone else it would be a night like any other, one filled with mystery and purpose to those who dwelled within the comforts of it's shade. For the most part those still about would be doing as they always did, serving to pick and nit about at all the silly little impractical behaviours and bitter sweets, they found themselves more devoted to address. It had occurred to her only over recent understanding that others were very much unlike her in several obvious different ways, but she could do little even bother trying to make herself show consideration for such matters. Perhaps the source of her confusion came from her history or instead something that deemed to dissolve itself so much more in a scheming elaborate paradox? Truth was she'd rather not think about it, even try to consider rationality in the subject of one of the very most important things she had obviously forgotten. Instead she preferred nothing more then to indulge her fantastical illusive stare into the stars hanging above her, like riddled dots over a once fabled and adored pattern that seemed so much more interesting then anything more prioritized around her..
The thickening shroud of her nightly surroundings had only ever served to measure its value to her in one purpose and that was the ultimate cover of confinement. Whether she was oblivious to her reasons for being so entranced by it, was beyond the value of her consideration as she found the simple manner of night much more appealing then trying to understand what it was that she adored so much about it. It was tricky to say much about her other else then what was only said by others and written by fools in old silly tales, as the mystery to who she really was would always remain just that and to herself as well, even if she were capable of realizing it she probably wouldn't have had it any other way.
[ ~ "Ignore was truly bliss, as much other things could be said about insanity.." said, no one she could recall.. How very odd indeed.. ~ ]
Only now in this dissolving sense of gloomy childish reality had she found herself at a rather rough edge that had seemed to send her head over heels into a chasm of uncertainty. As she knew better then almost anyone else, whenever the thought of her anxiety slowly began to once again crawl its way up her back and finally came to her attention would she often find herself slipping slowly into a rather shallow form of escape that was often at the edge of some bizarre form of mostly illicit sedative or through the rim and cork of an equally otherworldly bottle that housed liquid beyond this worlds knowledge or reason. Though she seemed to bare some for of dignity even now accepting this term of herself as she knew better then to ever get caught out in the open doing such things, the desire to enthrall herself in the release of these urges knew such little control of herself as even now in the glamorous shroud of the nightly aroma in which she loved so much she felt that spiteful temptation of addiction quickly drench the very essence of her silly little mind.
Through the cosmic mist of the thick nightly fog and ridiculous vibrate spotlights of small establishment there would be but a single whim of a rather illusory trail of a strange coloured smoke seeming to shift in both colour and form. The trail that led to its source seemed to go of forever or at least in the eye of the beholder of such otherworldly strange prescription. To the source of the cosmic artistic lines of smoke, the trail seemed to coil about the very essence of all physical manner of obstruction and object coming forth its path, always shifting and changing in vibrate glow with each step further she had made, as she had only just stopped to realize the beauty of it all. The journey of mesmerizing illusion had taken her only to the foot of a single alleyway that was drenched in shadow and didn't seem to bare any form of flare or colour about it. Only now had she remembered why it was she had gone there, her steps seeming to quicken at the tap of her heels as she felt a strange source of eagerness fill her. Looking back at the cosmic highway of endless magical smoke had only inspired her to paint the entire city in the charisma of it's delusion as she had just realized why it was she found herself walking about on this particular night..
It were as if there were nothing more interesting in the entirity of this rather strange little world then her own personal daze, as any thought of the purpose to what she might have been doing or even how she may have gotten there had totally slipped her mind. Oh there was so much she had forgotten and it would be even so much worse for her to force herself to remember but even strange odours of intoxication from a land of her own seemed to find their limits among the laws of this cruel new reality that came in the form of this curious new little world around her known as Fabletown. There would be the sound of crawling footsteps drawing nearer to her, as she had remembered the particular sound of similar dusty old books clapping their way along bitter pathway several times before. To her, it were as if the source of the approach was one who obviously brought about them a bold intention of illwill, an obvious threat of sorts who had shown no fear in displaying anger in his footsteps. The once dreamy expression that had poisoned her face with fantastical ecstasy would slip away as she'd find herself only now turning her head to address the other closing the distance between her. It were as if the entire engagement had come forth through the obscurity of slowed motion, as the simple touch of the strangers grasp upon her shoulder felt much more like a shove or crude gesture to her, then what it really had been. A simple pat on the side of her shoulder in reality, but to her an assault driven in violent madness by the hand of another who was far from in any way shape or form, the person she saw in her own mind and through those dilated eyes of misty blue wonder.
Oh how she had half a mind to throw sharp defence of her own at the obviously rather kind individual who had approached her with nothing more then gentle steps and a light tap on the shoulder. Her former expression of ridiculous fantastical euphoria had abandoned her, as instead she found her brow tilting and her lips tensing in sharp appal only within moments time to form reaction of bitterness. With the turn of her head, she'd only now take in his very real features and deem them strange and anything but settling to her which had slowly begun to remind her that this man was not who she had originally thought him to be. That was besides the purpose of her reaction however as oddly enough there were several of him, splitting right down in the middle as if he were a phantasmal image of a realistic person being split into several ghastly variations of his one true self, if there was really one true source of the visual madness at all? As she'd weigh in the very much mundy features of the one before her she'd instead find her expression once again tilt about in strange confusion as if it were on the lighter side of a one way scale. Without a single word she'd watch the strangers chapped young lips turn to attempt to form words, which had only come out to her as distorted tones and equally nonsensical frequencies. Had she lost her mind? Or was she dreaming? Perhaps she had forgotten what it was she was smoking? Her own vivid blue eyes would spark alive within concern and disbelief as after the slowed and chopped nonchalant clamour of the strangers speech she'd only just realize she was completely not at all within her right mind.
There would be a small shudder escape her lips followed by the heavy shaking of her head as she'd make a desperate obvious effort to come back to reality. As she it were as if the world around her would seemingly fast forward back to the actual time in which it existed, visuals around her and former words having gone past her quickly snapping back into their proper place. The ambience of the quiet night around her had come back to her, as she'd verify for certain now that there was only one strange man before her and that the trail of smoke that in which she seemed to both create and follow had only come from the strange cigarette between two of her fingers and was anything but endless, only whisping off an inch or so from the source of its flame.
"I beg your pardon?"
She'd find herself ask aloud, feeling quite silly for assuming the worst of the situation but not even sure, not quite understanding the reality of it. Or why it was this particular stranger that had broken her from her hysteric daze and for what reason? So many questions with no time to pay mind to them.. It made her feel rather uneasy to say the least.
The man had asked her to come along with her, to answer a few questions involving some sort of police work? Or so she had been told. The feeling of being selected under the premise of what the circumstances were for her assistance hadn't done very well to ease her forward in agreeing to go forth with the man but it wasn't like she had much other choice then that.. Or perhaps she could simply continue to venture down a very much more psychedelic variate of the true Fabletown that seemed to make so much more sense to her then the current..
The experience of being taken away for questioning had proven to be anything but comforting, as she'd much rather describe the situation as nerve racking but she had very little choice in the matter. The man would take her to a strange building one that she was certain she had been too before but may have been mistaking for on odd mushroom shaped and sized house back where it was she had originated from. Her mind was quite literally in the gutter as the realities of Fabletown, no matter how boring and unworthy of her interest as she had once considered them to be, had suddenly become so much more of a valid factor to her. In reality she knew very little about this world, only being here for... for.. well her memory wasn't too great, but she knew she didn't quite fit in as well as some of the other fables did, or so she had heard? She really didn't know anything now did she? If that be the case then why would the authorities wanted to take her in for questioning? Had she done something wrong?
[~Oh little Alice what have you done to yourself now..? ~]
As she'd sit at the opposite end of the desk in the rather strange room containing a number of strange artefacts that were clearly not from this world, she'd wonder if she had honestly done something wrong. It took only a moment for her hands to begin fumbling about in front of her, as her vivid blue eyes would widened with panic and she'd stare down at them wondering if she had done something horrible in fact with her own two hands. In a sudden immediate frantic display of searching, she'd throw her hands to her shoulder, only just realizing now that the one who had brought her her had taken her purse and thus any form of [ ~sedative ~? ] she would often use in these sorts of situations where she felt completely out of control of herself. It took her only a moment to realize she had nothing to ease the suffering of her own anxious emotions as she'd only just realize just how dreadful the fundamentals of the reality around her were quickly become and why it was she did half the things that she did in the first place. There was literally nothing she could do about the utter desperation of her withdrawal under the current circumstances and instead of being able to ease her panic with unhealthy addictions, would instead find herself biting away quickly at her own thumb in a soft rhythmical but intense speed as some depressing means of trying to comfort herself through a more simplified means of deprival.
[ ~ "There is little to fear but the thought of fear itself my dear.. Run along now and try to keep spirits up.." ~ ]
It was a good thing the sheriff had shown up when he did otherwise who would have known what little Alice may have resorted too without another in the room to retain her focus on the very fragile but real reality that inevitably surrounded her, the one it was obvious she didn't quite like as much as the other. At the simple creaking chime of his own office door she'd find herself looking up, her eyes sharply reacting as if she bore not even a single flaw when it came to the health of her reflexes, which seemed odd for a young woman of her stature who did very much the variety of unhealthy things. The nervous tension of her wonderful blue ocean eyes would stare sharply over to the one who closed the distance between the two as suddenly her feelings of lonesome anxiety would quickly find a reason to ease themselves from the maddening condescension of her own despair.
"Why yes.. It is..- Though it would be more proper to refer to me as Alison for I feel it may do me more justice, if that is any consolation to you at all ?"
Suddenly the feels of dread and madness quickly seemed to be repelled by what could only be described as some sort of invisible force, one of good nature and welcoming but still remaining very much in the unknown. Though it would be strange for her to feel such things in the presence of Bigby of all people, as the two of them had never met before? Or had they..?
There would be no further words exchanged from her shaking bright red lips, as she could only find herself so eager to want to try one of his cigarettes but instead began to rationalize the depth of her choice now that she was fully away in this bitter reality around her. She'd only gently shake her head with a nervous smile and wave her hand at the pack of cigarettes as if to wish them away..
Ever since the beginning of his own tale he'd been called such a name. A time where his brothers mocked the very essence of his seemingly weak existence. Even still it stuck to the very core of his memory. Having been the runt he still found strength in proving them wrong, in proving everybody who doubted him; wrong. If they were to call him the Big Bad Wolf, so be it. He would keep that name and use it to his advantage. Ever since the inevitable passing of his mother, Bigby made it clear in his own mentality that he was a loner. That he wanted to learn by himself, for himself, without the help of others. Over the years he found himself eating larger creatures day after day, including that of human flesh as well just to add to his charts. Alone was what he'd been use to. Alone was what he thought he'd always be. Loneliness was a given in his life and even though somewhere deep within himself he hoped for a future with someone together... he knew that was highly unlikely. There were thoughts that rummaged through his mind, thoughts that had always intercepted his own way of thinking. Hiding his feelings as best he could for Snow White had been hard enough. Not acting upon his devious thoughts was one thing, but keeping his feelings on the inside was certainly difficult. He was used to keeping quiet but at times it was aggravating to be the way he was. To be introverted, to keep everything stored deep down on the inside; it was not as easy as some may have thought it'd been.
The most difficult thing about being apart of the law in a town where the citizens were not used to such normalities had proven itself quite difficult. Being a Sheriff was one thing but actually physically enforcing the law was another. Having made a promise in more than one way to be a protector of the Fables had left him at ropes end. There was no escaping what he was supposed to do, no way around it. But in a roundabout way, he somewhat enjoyed what he did. Believing that if the role of Sheriff were in the hands of another, he'd quite possibly find hatred within himself, for himself. There was no reason to allow someone else to take over his job and he knew above all else, Snow would more than likely need his help. Of course she was independent and strong and wilful, but he feared had anyone done her wrong that she'd fall off that high horse she held so close as Mayor. Fabletown was in good hands now, that was without a doubt. But to confide in himself, to have the confidence she even seemed to bring to the table had him astounded. On the outside he presented himself as how he'd felt for a very long time. What he pushed forward was the law and had always been the law. For all their sakes, he did not want to start a ruckus. The last thing any Fable needed was to be discarded or harmed or worse; executed by the Mundy government or military for that matter. What he did was exactly what he had to do. Bigby held himself as the law because it was absolutely necessary. With his background, with all the horrible things he'd done, with his reputation and his name behind him; people would listen to him. Even though he wished to be redeemed of his past, he knew that sometimes that was utterly impossible.
Alice's scent had caught him off guard. There was no doubt in his mind let alone his heart that he felt a rather abnormal way because of this. What he felt on the inside was a reoccurring symptom that lay strong in his heart. With Snow, he was all too sure he'd been in love with her, that his heart would only attract to her, that his mind would only comprehend who she was and who she would always be. Not once in his entire existence had something overpowered such a scent; except now. The perfume Alice wore, whatever it had been, wherever it was from had lured him in a lot more than he meant for it to. Bigby's senses had always been above most wolves, that he'd been much used to. His father's abilities had been cast down upon him and he learned of them within time itself. But sometimes, his senses were soon in the depths of his own regret. Of all creatures, he just had to be a wolf. If only he'd caught a cold or been sick on a day like today, for then he wouldn't have had to breathe in the same air that Alice's sweet scent emitted. She'd drawn him in close and alas he acted as if nothing had even happened between them. Pretending that she was no different than any other individual he'd ever come across. This fact of course, it had to be true. He could not treat her as anything special. Having done that with Colin not too long ago and the worst had happened. The pig he considered a friend to him ended up back at The Farm, a place that he could only imagine relocating to. It was safe there, wasn't it? This thought more than often crossed his mind.
The request was simple and Bigby would obey such a simplicity. Retreating, his hand forfeit the idea of giving such a gift to a girl who seemed so pure. With strong posture he'd lean back, shoulders steady as he observed her from the other side of the desk that lay between them. Bigby had not seen such innocence in a long time. Her bright blue eyes contrasted his deep brown ones as they looked between each other. Although her outfit remain rather profound, he did what he could to see past the somewhat erotic taste of fashion sense that curved around her body. Unable to understand why he found someone so innocent so attractive, but he assumed it had to do something with the perfume that overpowered the cigarette that held placement between his lips.
"Everyone says they're a bad brand anyway,"
Referring to the pack of cigarettes that lay upon his desk and the one his lips held sacred, he'd give her a small smirk from across the table. Eyes lingering on hers as he found himself attempting to understand all the things that rummaged through his mind. If his mind were a home, he quite possibly couldn't find footing on the floor. His mind was a mess and he was unable to locate much sense at all right now. Feeling as though Alice had in fact bewitched him with some sort of spell, though he knew she had closer relations to a Mundy than a Fable. Hadn't she always been an honorary Fable? Finding that thought somewhat offensive, he pushed it into the back of his mind, pretending no such thing existed. His thoughts were crumbling his own mind, twisting his thoughts like they never had before. For once in his life he was unable to see things as clear as he normally had. Whenever danger seemed to come into existence, whenever a murder rose from the ashes, his stability would crumble and his thoughts would never be unclouded until the mystery was solved.
Why was she a witness? Of all people Alice did not seem like the type of girl who could have witnessed such a murder, let alone be the cause of all it. But perhaps Wonderland was called that for a simple reason. He had to read more into her story because at this current moment that linger between them, he hadn't a clue what to say to her. What was he supposed to do? Lash out at her? Yell at her until she told him the truth? When it came to women, he couldn't find the strength in himself to be negative toward them unless they showed him the undying hostility which lay within their hearts. Even when it came to people as simple as Faith and Lily all he could do was give them the benefit of the doubt. When it came to men, it was the opposite. Perhaps it had something to do with his upbringing and his father. Perhaps it had something to do with the kindness of his mother and the hatred for his father. Or perhaps it had to do with his very own experiences when it came down to it, or the tiniest pebble of sexism that ran in his heart, whether he wished to admit such a thing or not.
There were choices to be made here, choices that he didn't wish he'd have to make. Words he wished could escape his very lips but he knew deep down that speaking such nonsense to her in this very room would prove to ache his heart all the latter. As the cigarette between his lips grew dry and hasty, he'd gander down at the folder beneath him, staring at the front as he knew what contents bore inside. His expression did not consider hesitation. His own eyes meeting back with the softest colour he could ever have imagined. There were questions he needed answers and if he did not receive some sort of response from her, especially not an honest one he didn't know what he'd even end up doing with himself. Bigby always thought of himself as an excellent detective when it came down to understanding someone else's mentality and the procedure behind it. Would she lie to him? Would she be honest? The hardest parts were trying to figure out those who lied right to his face unphased by his questions. But all he had to do was give poor Alice the benefit of the doubt.
"I need you to be honest with me because these questions may hit home. Tell me Alison, do you have any relation to The Hatter?"
There were a handful of names that Bigby had always kept, names and faces of people whom he kept in files and folders in the center of his own mind. But these people whom reflected his life in both positive and negative manners sometimes had him questioning his own psychology. Of all the people, The Hatter had been known as one of those who were deemed insane. Fabletown had rumours spreading left right and center. It wasn't easy to sneak behind someone's back without eyes lingering on you. Bigby knew that whatever he did outside of his home or outside the office mattered almost twice as much as how the people saw him whilst at work. But he was always on the job.. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Perhaps The Hatter had not been insane and perhaps he always had a good head on his shoulders. It was questions like these that riveted the very head that sat on his shoulders. Brows raised in such a devious manner as he leaned against the old fashioned desk in front of him.
It were as if suddenly that wretched fissure of blatant anxiety had suddenly diminished completely from the strange young woman sitting across the table but in reality things were never so simple as they have seemed. All the sheriff had proven to do was distract the mad little girl but the particular ease he had provided her with was anything but unsatisfactory. Now instead of allowing her mind to compile up all matter of insane consequence she instead found herself utterly mesmerized by the wolf among her, but not in any sort of obvious healthy way that one may assume. This was not a mannerism of good introduction as this truly wasn't the first time they had met before? Or was it? That terrible thought stretched through her mind again as she couldn't help but wonder beyond sensible manner if she had mistaken his physic for that of someone else. Oh she was sure she hadn't met anyone quite like him before? Or had she simply forgotten yet again? Was it honestly that important for her to know or ha she simply been extended the value of sane company once again, which to her had proven to come in some form of uncommon treat. Well whatever the case was she was quick to decide well of it's matter as instead of trying to desperately find the answer to her question she instead allowed her mind to become utterly captivated in the paradox of it all as she'd wonder only now if he was truly interesting as her instincts remembered him to be.
[ ~ "Silly little girl.. Stop playing game with yourself.. Oh hush, what a now.. your such a miserable racket.." ~ ]
On the outside her company thought probably the least of her, conveying her position in all of this as to be some sort of obvious mix up? Or perhaps that was what her head was telling her it was. It didn't matter and that would be the simple end of it, no longer would she be chasing the own tail of her mind in circles while she desperately tried to make the very most honest and sincere impression. Alison was a honest good girl despite whatever that miserable racket in her head said. Oh but what was that racket? It was so difficult to focus on the situation at hand. In reality all he probably saw was a poor nervous little wreck of a girl who hadn't even done herself the dignity of covering herself up well with her wardrobe, simply throwing on any mannerism of tight clothing and tore accessory. The way her blue and white top hung down the shape of breast and allowed more then just an obvious peak at what lay behind. Oh it were as if that miserable little rabbit insignia had been placed between those two moulds behind her shirt deliberately. Not much else could be said about the rest of her either, though mostly hidden by the table it was fairly obvious that this girl was not the sort who preferred the comforts of silence in her steps either, not with her wearing those foolishly large platform heels of white and blue that were wrapped about at her ankle in a strange striped fabric that looked to be as if it stocks that she had been to lazy to pull up the fabric of her dark full leggings.
Even she had to admit she found it a bit odd that she wasn't wearing her matching blue and white jacket, even now that the temperature in the room had been somewhat chilly to her. Instead it hung behind her chair as she'd consider trying to remember during at what point she had even removed it from herself to practically herself on display to the sheriff-
[~ " Oh you are impatient aren't you.. SSHH" ~ ]
The oddest thing about her feeling so bare and exposed to the total strange was that she felt as if she were was basically staging herself for the worst of the situation. Had little Alison forgotten that her arms had practically been riddled from top to bottom with both fading and new incision of tiny little black holes, that obviously gave her anything but healthy titles to what her favourite pass time was? None of it seemed to matter to even the slightest bit to her when she was with him however. Instead of considering her own disposition in the whole matter she could only find herself forcing a light gentle smile across her rosy red lips as her lips did their best to form resistance in the instability of her gentle smiling gesture.
"Well perhaps everyone else is mad.. Or is it that they just don't seem to share your flavour?"
Her words literally rolled of the tongue as if someone else was talking to her, but the distinctive hum of her tone seemed to normal. She felt like she was sure that part of her had wanted to attempt to take his offer, only because it was from him and not anyone else.. but another part of her, a more rational aspect of her character that seemed somewhat unknown or forgotten to her, didn't want to test the idea of smoking a brand other then the sort she were used as she had a certain expectation when it had come to reaching her own high. Nothing less then the sort of nonsense she smoked would ever do it for her, not since it had become her whole world, even outside of the real one that the visions had really come from..
Even now she felt less and less like herself as while she did a decent job at maintaining the illusion of who she was on the outside, while the inside of her min asked more questions of herself that one may find in an encyclopaedia of the most nonsensical of value. The room seemed so quiet in reality but in her head it was something so much menacing altogether and the only thing keeping her from losing her cool seemed to be the mystery sheriff only a mere inches away from her. Would he talk with her? Or would he get straight down to business.. Oh she'd hope so.. What did that even mean? What was she playing at? Honestly she felt as if he could ask her anything, anything at all and she'd be so willingly proud to provide him with the answer he so seeked even though she probably wouldn't have the slightest clue as to what it was she were talking about, but the simple idea of blabbering about to him seemed to suffice as the sort of thing that would keep her in the forgetting of just how uneasy she felt now that she had been helpless to prevent herself from being consumed by this reality.
Well anything but that perhaps? Her expression seemed to toss and turn about at the mention of The Hatter even though she showed no immediate claim to whether she was shocked or confused over the mention of him. The expression she wore seemed to slide about like goo plastered to a mask as in an instant she first displayed an obvious sign of concern but only moments later wonder as to why he of all things had been brought up at the only the beginning of their conversation.
"I know of a many good things.. One of which being a Hatter.. Though I feel concern for your question.. Why has something happened? Oh he is such a silly old man that man is.. I live with him you see.."
Her will to cooperate didn't seem flawed in the slightest bit, but her understanding of the situation seemed to show frailty. If it was Bigby's intention to question her like how they did suspects in those old serious black in white films then it would be certain Alison wouldn't be the qualified to play the part of the questiony since her reactions seemed to profound in their honesty despite whatever flaws she obviously had with her character on the inside.
For reasons unbeknownst to even himself, a familiar aura struck the room silently, allowing such a clouded feeling to rise and grasp at the innocence that was Alice. It seemed like just yesterday he'd met a rather alluring somewhat innocent female on the street that may not have been as innocent as the story foretold. For once in Bigby's life, he was truly hoping that nothing would go wrong, that he could trust this girl with all his big heart could handle. He knew that something could go wrong, that she could potentially lie to him, give him false information and leads that would throw him into a dead ended alleyway. Of course, there was nothing wrong with a little challenge but he just couldn't convince himself that Alice was a murderer, rather than a victim. In a way, his fate was in the palm of her hands and all he needed to do was hear her story. Where she'd been, what she was doing, why she was where she said and all those all too obvious questions that anyone could just as easily lie about. But if he were to doubt anything about her, he'd be denying her the very right to speak, to give her words as to where she'd been during the time of the murder. As it stood now, her blue eyes stood out like no tomorrow. There was no sorrow behind them or devastation or pain and guilt behind them. Not to mention, she didn't come across as the type of girl who would even commit such acts. If anyone was a murderer in the room; it was him.
The response she'd given him in regard to his cigarette taste had thrown him off. In the beginning, when they'd first been placed into his very hands he hadn't quite remembered enjoying the taste or the smell for that matter. But they blocked out the one thing he could barely stand, especially when he'd been around a certain someone, which apparently accumulated itself for two people now. Both Alice and Snow had stronger scents than most and for that reason he'd found their presence alluring and highly attractive. It was not something that he'd been used to and by all means, whatever would block the smell, even it had been a candle or some sort of air freshener, nothing would do him as much justice as the cancer stick that lay place in his mouth. Such a simple object had put his mind at ease even if the scent of Alice remain much stronger than even that of Snow. His loyalty to Snow was no question but the two had not paired off as a couple. They made a good team but she had never exactly seen him for whom he was let alone the feelings he held for her. Assuming that there was no way in all eternity that Snow would ever fall for a man such as him. There was nothing Bigby felt had been too special about him. Confidence remain strong on the outside but on the inside, was he really a truly confident person? Of course his natural instincts took over but that did not protect him from what happened in the reality presented in front of him.
Alice's statement on it's own had caused his brows to furrow, if only for an instant. A confused expression found way to his eyes and then quickly forced seriousness to reform in the room. In a roundabout way, she'd complimented him but Bigby knew that getting to the bottom of this was where everything was soon to gather.
[ If only everyone thought like you...]
Observing Alice carefully he'd wait for her expression to change, but nothing had seemed suspicious or anything of the sort. Instead she seemed curious in his question, wishing to understand what he meant by what was asked. Knowing quite well the way he worded things could have been taken in a rather harsh way, but instead she'd given him a straight answer and for that, he could not hold her against it. It was her word over his and she knew what she was talking about. All he could do was try and see if she'd been lying or not. There was no lie here, at least not in his eyes or his ears. Her words did not stutter, they did not falter, they did not ramble and they did not shiver. There was something here that seemed pure to him and he'd have to agree with his senses on this one.
But Bigby's interests did not quite stop there. From watching her very closely his eyes wandered down to her clothes, as though looking for blood that he'd not seen even an inch upon her. From the looks of the crime scene, there was without a doubt blood splattered upon almost every surface. In this case however, the only thing he stumbled upon was that of the very tiny holes that pierced the skin of her arms. His eyes momentarily locked there, time slowing down for him as he took notice to them and then soon back to her eyes. He didn't want to seem as though he'd be staring somewhere strange. Awkwardness was not needed at this time.
Breaking the news to just about anyone was always such a hard thing. Taking a moment to himself he allowed himself room to breathe, taking in the idea that Alice had not only known the Hatter, but the two of them lived together as well. This was quite possibly going to be one of the hardest things he'd have to do in a long time. With his big heart taking the pain for her, he'd slip the cigarette from his lips slowly. He had to make this moment one that didn't have him seeming like some stuck up prick in his own little world. Right now, Alice did not need that. So he put the cigarette out, burning the tip of it against the ashtray that lay upon his desk. With air suddenly growing thick and the scent of Alice's very self sitting before him he'd waver with worry. Fingers lacing together as he placed his hands upon the desk. From her eyes to his he'd take a breather, a moment to himself and then begin to speak. It was now, or never. Breaking her heart would have to do, it was the only thing to do. But he kept his professionalism as best he could. Even with her scent strongly surrounding him, he'd still find a way to observe her reaction.
"I'm sorry to say this Alison but we found the Hatter last night. He's... well, he's dead. We found his body, he's been murdered..."
In some way, Bigby felt responsible. With Crane's influences heavily on his shoulders he began to worry of her momentary reaction. The voice of Crane echoing in his mind over and over telling him that he was responsible for keeping all citizens alive and well and obeying the law. They both knew that was next to impossible at the time but it was in Bigby's right to at least try. For some reason, he felt as though he failed Alice. Even though he was not the sort of man to go out at night hunting for crime or see to it that he caught every single solitary individual who did one thing wrong; he still felt guilty of this crime. With his ears theoretically back and his brows furrowed he'd give Alice the look of devastation and compassion, attempting in a way to empathise with her even if he'd never been good with such a thing in his life. Empathy ran strong sometimes but he never quite knew how to deal with it. This was one of those times where he didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do and awaited for her to react before he could do anything.
The degree of the circumstance for her being where she was seemed anything but simple, even with the idea that she may have been confused about her involvement in this whole situation. Regardless of what had really happened it seemed impossible for her not to consider her own potential at playing the hand of a scheming murder. Honestly didn't seem to fit her character, not from what she considered about her general character anyway. Sure she was a silly girl who did a handful of less then ideal things but her involvement in them had always been rather basic to say the very most hadn't it? It was stressful to recall, but even now in the midst of the rather unforeseen turmoil of the situation it was still anything but easy to piece the logic together about her being the culprit. It wasn't easy to remember much of what had happened earlier tonight, never-mind the night before that or even two days time before today but she was most certain she had gone about doing what she always did for the last bit of time that had slipped on by and that was playing the part of a silly little girl who was lost in her very vivid and colorful fabled imagination of a time when things around her seemed not to wither in such gloom..
The apparitions had become anything but had they had originally began as, as the simple idea of finding something nice and pleasant to look out shrouded in the twisted fabricated depths of visual insanity had seemed to become her only reason for continuing her rather blink addiction. Of course she saw some things, did some things that didn't make much physical sense when she was off on one of her trips but never had she come sober to a reality where she had been painting illustration with another's blood or anything horrible like that. Come to think of it, she couldn't even recall what she did when she often became sober, as the thought of it had been anything but settling for her to recall as she had so obviously displayed not any longer the moments ago. Oh dear she truly was not herself at all. But then who was she? If not the little innocent Alison she had always remember herself to be? Suddenly the idea of her being a once renowned hero in a far distant land that fought dragons and evil queens seemed anything but probable to her.
Perhaps she had gone to far within herself, allowed the pride to slip into her head or had let some other matter of shredded moral linger on in her head for just a tick longer then she had expected it to? Now she was sitting in a police station being asked by Bigby of all people, about questions revolving to a murder and the Hatter? Had he done something again? Oh that good for nothing old man was nothing but trouble he was. Suddenly the idea engagement had passed a vibe off to Alice that her matter in this whole equation would end up being anything but subtle and oddly enough the reaction that she concluded to in her head didn't seem to add up with her own physical reaction. Before Bigby could even speak his first words she felt a tear slip down her cheek as suddenly the weight of her eye lashes doubled and found herself tearing up over the idea that she hadn't been good to the Hatter and him doing something had been her fault.
"Im such a silly little girl.. I know, always in my head about it.. But I never meant to disappoint or anger him in any way..-"
Her statement seemed to end mid way as the idea of talking about him on the inside, didn't seem to match her feelings for the particular character on the inside.
[ ~ "But who was the one who put you there? No no.. it wasn't him! ~ ]
That little voice in her head seemed do be nothing but trouble, always second guessing every little damn thing she said as if to address something she had forgotten or possibly deliberately left out. It was like having a reflection of oneself in the mirror that did anything at all but act as reflection and instead took some form of ill matter pleasure in contrasting every little thing it was that she did and thought to herself. Where had it come from? Oh never-mind with it! The hatter was dead because of her and- Wait how had she known that? It was literally moments after that Bigby's words had come off his tongue and would only act to verify the real truth that she had literally told herself a millisecond before he said it. The situation had taken a turn for anything but simple, as suddenly Alice's ability to comprehend what she said to herself and heard seemed anything but easy.
Those big ocean blue eyes of hers would do anything but lightly tear up now as she began to weep an isolated shower of her very own in front of him. Had Alice had more clarity through the liquid drenching her own eyes she'd be able to tell that Bigby had also taken notice of the small devote holes decorating her arms like they were put their with patterned intention. Her knowing that he knew she was anything but clean in the matters of her illicit behaviour suddenly seemed to matter so little to her as all she could consider was how she had known about this entire situation from the very beginning.
"Mur-.. Murder.. but by who? And.. why..?"
She so deeply wanted to know why, as the desperation for understanding in her voice actually matched her mental concern for the matter in a way that nothing else had from the beginning of this entire night.
To explain the death of someone close to anyone was practically impossible without giving out each and every little detail. To hide the truth that the victim's relatives or friends wished to know only harmed the mentality and heart that Bigby had kept as strong as humanly possible. Keeping files under classification was the only route that he could go. Even Bigby knew that to show Alice the photos of the Hatter that had been taken the night prior would not be in anyone's best interest. To show the slaughtered and hacked up body that lay there helplessly on the ground, beaten and bruised all the more; it was quite the horrible sight to see. To hear that little Alice herself had been at the scene of the crime already riddled the mentality of Bigby, who sat opposite to her on his side of the desk. Who's brows furrowed whilst watching the young girl mirroring him tear up in misunderstanding and fear. Her body almost trembling, searching within herself for some sort of answer. An explanation was necessary, it was needed, her expression absolutely demanded it. The terror that was brought forth had even the big bad wolf feeling sorrowful fill him in all it's glory. No decent fable of this city would not understand how Alice felt. Throughout the years, each one had lost something of importance and at worst, lost a relative or someone they deemed closest to them. Alice had lost the Hatter, someone she considered to be her guardian perhaps, someone worth looking up to, someone strange, but loyal and kind. As it were, a long time ago even Bigby had lost someone close to him, his mother who he deemed the most important person in his entire lifetime. With her gone and out of the picture, he remembered the hopelessness that dawned over him. Due to her death he did horrible things but he never wanted anyone else to follow in his footsteps.
An innocent girl such as Alice could not have seemed more dreadful as her eyes bore with tears and her face flushed of red colour. Mismatching the blue she wore as she was made out to be the most innocent of all Fabletown. A witness was said to have seen her? Really? Bigby did not think he could believe such lies and slander. Unable to understand why someone would have proclaimed that Alice herself was the main reason for the death of the Hatter- was that what they were saying or was Bigby just turning around their words for the worse? If she had been a witness, would she truly have been filtering the tears that bore from her big blue eyes? Witnessing such a beautiful girl in such a distraught unhappy place now was never alright to witness. Why oh why did it always have to be the most attractive girls of Fabletown that he got himself involved with? No matter where he went, it seemed as though he'd have to swoop down and help them to the best of his abilities. Of course this did not mean that he could help Alice. Truth be told Bigby had always felt as though a curse had been placed on his very soul. That those around him could never be happy, that he would never experience true happiness. Perhaps if he wasn't the Sheriff, than Fabletown would've done just fine without him. Had he not been in charge, would this not have happened? Would the Hatter still be alive and Alice well within his grasp? One thing was for certain, that such a fantasy would never be revealed as time itself would continue to tick and be unable to turn counter-clockwise.
Regardless as to the tears that fell from Alice's face he'd tend to the file that presented itself in front of him. Her perfume had truly caused him to be unable to focus, as did her crying, but he did what he could to see it through to the end. Right now his attention had to be on explaining to her what happened, to give her answers to the hundreds of questions her mind expressed. With a gentle sigh he'd look through the written up text, paper after paper. Lists of witnesses and statements that had been made so far. It was tragic, truly it was. Bigby hadn't seen a crime like this in over a month and yet he thought due to the events with Crane and The Crooked Man that all of this would come to and end but it hadn't. It should have, but it didn't. For once the all so powerful wolf had fallen victim to the crimes of Fabletown and felt like he'd been ripped of his half-decent future he'd been hoping to accomplish here. Absolutely nothing was going his way. Nothing would ever go his way. His fate had been on trial already and had been since the day he entered Fabletown. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy...
"I'm sorry Alice, I wish there was something I could do for you."
An apology was not enough, he knew that it was not his fault but still he felt guilty. His attention was focused on her and her alone right now and the situation at hand. Never had he been so uptight before. Another smoke would do him some good but he couldn't bring himself to take another taste of the sweet cancer stick. Not even once had he actually touched the package since he'd put out the last one. But he was fidgety and uncomfortable but his mind knew to focus.
"We don't know who or why yet. But we will. We'll get to the bottom of all this Alice, I promise you that. I'm going to do everything in my power to solve this for you. But I have to ask you a few questions and you'll have to answer truthfully. I need to know where you were last night, between six and midnight."
Interfering with others personal lives what not something he'd ever enjoy doing. Not once in his life had he found it interesting unless they were the scum of this very earth. Alice's life was interesting to him but he did not want to invade it. Bigby was so certain for some reason that she did not do anything. That she would never do something like this. By the innocence in her eyes, the tears that burned her red, the fear that danced around her. Why would she be like this if she had done it? Perhaps his witnesses were wrong. Perhaps the women who were around the scene of the crime were in fact... well, the murderers? Was that possible? Or perhaps they just did not fancy the blonde girl as another Fable and decided to shun the blame on her. There were many horrible people in this city, many of which he thought were corrupt and unfaithful. It was quite possible that someone was blackmailing Alice into all this. That she was the victim just as much as the Hatter...
It was abnormal to consider a life without the Hatter, despite feeling rather strange about the true nature of her feelings towards him. What would she do without that silly old cook of a man to take care to her, where would she go and what would she do with herself? Strangely she felt as if she had already known the answer to that, as if it had been something she had long since considered and planned out for a time that reached beyond her obvious memory. There were others of course, the the most of them were equally as menacing as the rest and it would feel rather odd of her to consider them as a conclusion. Hmm.. how very unusual indeed.. The longer she considered the matter to more clarity seemed to compile in her conscious over the matter as her ability to demonstrate and display utter sorrow seemed tempted by other rather unlikely mischievous thoughts. Oh my what had she done? Had she done anything at all or was she simply allowing herself to become lost in the distressful reality of her personal little sobby society? Perhaps it was a simple rational feeling of instinct but she suddenly felt as if she bore some incline in discovering the truth behind the rather grim matter of the Hatters fate, even if it meant accepting the odd possible conclusion that she may very well had something to do with it..
There was a simple shake of her head as Alice would attempt to shift herself from the fundamental dismay of her current circumstance and could think of nothing other then severity of the situation. To most, or in Bigbys case she seemed to show a very true face of utter confusion and distrot but within herself the emotion hardly felt probably placed in even the slightest degree. Still the girl was incapable of controlling herself and that much was true no matter how the situation was reviewed. Perhaps it would have been better of her to simply delude herself in the silly practicalities of her little wonderlandly consumables and simply do her best to comply with the matter of the situation as Bigby would probably expect her too? Though she wished for it to be this simple any form of simplification seemed to have long slipped away from her over her last little unexpected in this very unfair and nonsensical reality around her.
Now instead of knowing what it was she wanted and to feel exactly where it was she should be, she only bore trembling hands that desperately served to skittishly tap away at the surface of the table before her as she concerned what means of escape she could possibly take to smooth herself in her time of distress. Regardless of the rather grim sense of wicked reality, there seemed to be satisfactory when it came to being interviewed by the one and only sheriff of Fabletown she would speak any-more then a single word too.
[ ~ "Of course you know nothing of the matter.. How could you, being out and about in all the pleasentries of innocent little imagination.. Surely you have nothing to fear." ~ ]
The voice in her head was becoming anything but reassuring, as the longer she seemed to try and press the unfortunate matter of the death of someone close to her, the less inclined she felt to believe anything the little snicker in her mind said. Where had that voice come from anyway? How long had she allowed its racket to fumble around with the fragility of her wonderful character? Where had it come from in fact? Suddenly the trauma of considering what she may have done seemed to out-way the possibility that she hadn't done it at all, as Alice would literally find herself collapsing her face into the siege of her hands as they'd sharply lock at the side of her head as if she were trying to suppress a terrible pain in her head. It would be obvious to Bigby by now that the girl was in hardly any obvious place to be answering many questions by the simply pigment of her reddening face from it's former almost ghostly pale colour.
"I.. I was out.. Doing what I always do at 6 o'clock.. Was I late? I can't exactly recall but for sure I was out doing work for the catepillar.. That crooked old swindler wouldn't have me doing anything else at such an hour.."
She'd give Bigby an answer to his question but hadn't quite realized that she may have slipped a detail more or so then she had intended too upon being brought in here. The caterpillar was never planned to be mentioned in any recallation that related to the Hatter to prevent herself from becoming too attached to more personal matters. Strangely her desire to disclose more of the personal bits of her life with the two individuals seemed anything but elaborate but also considered by the influence of a second thought she hadn't quite been aware of before.
To a degree, he considerably understood the pain she felt deep down within her soul. The harsh reality before he wasn't necessarily a good thing to even her ears. Perhaps it was a good thing that she never had a chance to see the body as Bigby knew that even he would refuse to show such horrific pictures. This task was a delicate one and sometimes he thought it was almost too much to handle. Sometimes it seemed overwhelming with the amount of work he'd done day in, day out. With Alice here he couldn't help but just feel horrible for her in the current state she sat in. Dreadful, in tears, crying about in such a depressive way. Somehow, he wished to hold her, console her, express to her that everything would eventually be fine. Now was not a good time for questioning, perhaps he could schedule another appointment with her soon and see to it that she got some rest and had time to take in all this information. To lose a loved one, someone she held dear and close to her above anyone else, he knew that feeling. To have someone torn and ripped from the clutches of your own hands, to have them taken away much too early in life; his mother had too met a similar fate. So as he spoke with Alice, had this confrontation with her, assuring her that everything was fine was practically impossible at this rate. Nothing was fine. Nothing was okay. She had every right to cry her eyes out, every right to be distraught and upset and downright angry at the world. For reasons, Bigby felt responsible for all of this. For the tears that seemingly left her beautiful blue eyes, to the makeup that ran down her very face. This tragedy would not go unsolved, not without him around. Determination gripped his very soul, wrapping around it and causing it to leap forward. His focus was needed at its very best right now.
There were so many questions that escaped his confused mind. The caterpillar? What did he have her do exactly? The occupation that Alice held, what was that as well, and why? There were so many questions filtering through his mind, some going into useless folders in his brain but the important ones would soon stay. There wasn't a reason for him to overload her with questions, seeing as he wished to stop as soon as humanly possible. It was hard enough trying to crumble around the very scent of Alice, trying to force himself to try and think outside the box rather than in, or perhaps inside was best? This was getting a little too confusing. There wasn't a reason for a normal human being to have done such a thing. With the way the Hatter had been killed, with the way his body had been demolished in such fashions made it reasonable to understand that he had in fact been murdered by a Fable. The magic presence that lifted upon and around his body held that evidence, but what was it and who'd of done it? The results were still coming in and being calculated and observed. Sooner or later they'd arrive but hopefully not after too long. Whatever had done this and whomever took that item there, the wolf hoped there was a way to figure out who'd caused such grief to such a young woman.
As many questions floated around in Bigby's head he'd watch Alice look up from behind the very fear that stunned her. Sympathy and empathy were both felt strongly for such a sweet daring girl whose heart had been broken by the act of another's death. It was sad, depressing and somewhat corrupt. Someone, somewhere was receiving satisfaction out of doing this. Perhaps the Hatter was involved in much more than just Alice and the Caterpillar. There must've been a thousand times more details to such a story, wasn't there? Bigby never once thought that whoever could've done it may or may not be before his very eyes, or under his all too sensitive nose.
"Just a few more questions Alice... and then we'll be done for today. What sort of man is the Caterpillar and what do you do for him? You've gotta have some kinda place to stay right? Do you live with the Caterpillar too?"
His concern had simple rose and fallen from the interest of her relationships to where she lived all the more. Had Alice in fact lived in such a run down area? It was unfortunate that not all Fables had the ability to live in such high end places. Those who were once rich had at least a half-decent place unless they were found under bad terms and rather darker forces that had a grip on society as a whole. Bluebeard for one had Bigby continuously curious as to his whereabouts and occupation status truly lay. The man was corrupt and he knew it, it was just a matter of proving such things eventually. But people like Alice, she must've had the inability to live in a comfortable home. Perhaps it wasn't just her home that caused discomfort in his eyes, but the fact that maybe Alice wasn't alone in all of this. Maybe the individual whose sickness ran deep within the current case had a whole other idea? Perhaps they were attempting to draw Alice out? This continued to bug the wolf even more. His true worry for Alice was growing by the seconds as they ticked on by. Imagining the screams of such a blonde girl in the mist of the evening hours had him bewildered and beyond depressed. Oh god... No, that was not what he wanted.
"Do you have anywhere else to stay other than your current location?"
It were as crying rivers of tears upon tears seemed so much easier then trying to atone for what she did. Oh now, she wasn't following herself of course even when he spoke to her in such a soothing and gentle tone. From what she could gather, outside her obsession of the man known as "Bigby" he seemed like a good source morality and the sort who was loyal to his titles. A noble wolf seeking redemption amongst the trope of poor victims to his former self and yet where would she find her redemption? Amongst the people of her own? She'd dread not. Wonderland was nothing as it once had been and naturally being the very icon of such a nonsensical place, the world had fallen in similar discord to it's hero. Back then life seemed so simple and so easy, she never had to worry about anything but the next ounce of curious thought that crossed her attention and riddled her brain with fable. Some may even say Alice was to blame for her own state of mind to this very day, with her precious wonderland aside it was her own fall from grace that had inevitably undone her from the very beginning. Perhaps it be the addiction of the tea that the hatter had practically shoved down her throat time and time again or the that ghastly pipe and smoke that came with it that the Caterpillar was always enshrouding himself within and the odd way it seemed to distort her since of true reality.
Even now so many years later Alice still struggled to understand the element of her own responsibility, despite her loyalty to her own stubbornness seeming to persist above all other matters. She was a guilty woman, she knew something but was an expert at hiding it though the practice of it was hardly difficult at all what with her extensive experience in keeping secrets among others. What a guilty little girl she were, sitting there as if she were the victim of the atrocious that had befallen the hatter and seeking Bigby's remorse as if he were the type to show remorse to deranged criminals such as herself. One could dream of course, though sometimes those dreams had a way of testing the very boundaries of reality and naturally that seemed to be what was occurring at this very moment. Nothing more then a gentle studder escaped her trembling pink lips as if her entire body was frozen in an transparent frosty air. It was hard to form words and feel certain she were the one saying them in the first place, never-mind trusting their accuracy out-loud to a total stranger. Though when the mind seemed to bend in such twisted deluded spiral even the simplest things seemed totally inoperable.
With nothing more then the raising motion of a single hand to her lips as she'd press against them gently and silently to prevent herself from saying the wrong thing, her eyes would dwindle about the room and finally stick back onto Bigby. Should she be honest? Though what was honesty, it was hard to tell when their were several different voices screaming about in your head after all. What should see say? The truth, what was the truth? What had she done? She knew she had done something but couldn't quite verify for certain she even knew what that was. The entire thought of it seemed rather hazy and anything but easy to comprehend.
"I-I Don't know what you'd want me to tell you.. about such a man? He's rather complicated and probably wouldn't want me mentioning him in fact.. Though I can tell you for certain I feel as if I hardly know him to be.. anything else then an oracle of sorts.. A wise man at that, but not a very good one.."
Once she had said it, she felt somewhat ill about having done it. There was nothing more then a light fluttering shift in her tone and an obvious nervous forced swallowing gesture to state that she didn't exactly feel comfort speaking poorly about the Caterpillar.
The idea of speaking behind someone's back to a total a strange, despite being rather obsessed with one seemed very much unlike her. She wasn't an evil snippy young woman with a tendency to idolize herself above others now was she? Though she could certainly say she knew a woman very much like that. After mentioning the Caterpillar at all Alice felt as if speaking of anyone else from Wonderland was probably not for the better, since she remembered that she hadn't quite left the place last on such good terms as the first or second time she had been there. Though she had to admit that the idea of not considering them seemed rather unnerving and reminded her that she hadn't really felt truly wanted in any particular place since the fables from her story had split and found their place in this new world.
Before her thoughts could wander forth and to far into the confusing abyss of her own imagination, Alice was broken from her thoughts of wander by the comment made by Bigby in his final sentence. It seemed somewhat ironic in it's nature, for him to be asking such a thing when she had just considered herself homeless in an obvious sense. If there was anything pleasant about their confrontation it was certainly this very moment..
"Well.. no.. I haven't now that I think of it.. I-I presume I'll await the authorities to finish up their investigation and presume my place at the Rabbit Hole I guess..?"
Alice replied in a obvious tone that reeked of confusion.
Alice hadn't quite realized it yet, but she had already done two things she hadn't entirely planned on doing in her little engagement with Bigby. The first was slipping the information out to him that she did in fact live with the Hatter which would refer to her relation with him and the Caterpillar being stronger then she had claimed it to be. The second was that her desire to find a new home seemed to bare much more foundation then influenced by the spur of the moment.
[ ~ "Silly little girl can't keep her mouth shut.. Oh such a pity.." ~ ]
