chesshurcat-blog

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“Oh, Hatter,” responded the Cat in feigned offense. “Wonderland amused me. My relationship with Wonderland was more of an addictive high than an affair.”

The waitress brought out two cups of tea and set in on the table between the two characters. In front of Chesh, she put a large container of creamer knowingly. She winked coyly at the Chesh.

“More creamer than tea?” she asked.

“You know me, love,” Chesh responded. “Thank you, dearly.”

Chesh stirred her tea with a spoon that she guided with the tip of her long, slender fingers. She looked back at the Hatter, inspecting him in sincerity.

“I am, genuinely, sad for you,” she told him. “Lost your mate, and your cub���s out there somewhere. That’s the very reason I stay in Wonderland. I don’t want to get attached out there in reality. I’d lose it all. Besides, I am not particularly wired for anywhere other than Wonderland. There’s not a lot of places fit for grinning, shape-shifting cats.

“Perhaps that’s the difference between me and you. Your madness can be hidden under a hat. You can pass for normal. I wear mine like a bright purple scarf. Not even in this form will I ever pass for average.”

He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this meeting with the cat.  He glanced over her, noting her rather normal appearance now.  “I suppose if you ask, you can return to your natural form,” Jefferson shrugged.  “Though those capable of changing you bag you might not enjoy dealing with.”  At the moment, Rumplestiltskin and Regina were the two she’d need to go to and neither were ones he’d trust for such a task.   “Though I would think the there would be some advantages of a human form.”

Jefferson could see the cat’s unease at his mention of the Knave.  “Like I said, he’s not around from what I’ve noticed,” Jefferson shrugged.  “He wasn’t as bad as some on the court, Cheshire.  Cora was a lot worse to deal with.  The Knave was just one of her pawns.”

Jefferson eyed the cat warily.  “You know damn well what happened to me.  Before I was a portal jumper and Wonderland cost me everything.  My wife and later my child.  I hate that land about as much as you loved it.”

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STARTER CALL

((Like this post for a starter... I will mostly be focusing on my OUAT verses, but all other verses are ABSOLUTELY welcome!))

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((Wow. It’s been like a month since I was active. Whoops.))

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rubyrose: Nothing makes me smile like a going away package from @luisaviaroma with a million amazing things plus this amazing @ysl tank… Omg so many goodies ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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STARTER CALL

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Another cattish grin came across her face.

“Tea’s on me. I just got my paycheck,” she said. Chesh stopped herself, before hunching her shoulders and making a face of disgust. “Ugh, this realm... responsibilities don’t look good on me.”

At the mention of the Knave of Hearts, Cheshire clicked her tongue. Perhaps she wouldn’t have felt such unease if she were still a magical being, but her loss of abilities left her uncomfortably vulnerable. Truth be told, anyone under the title of “Hearts” made her skin crawl.

“Nor have I,” she admitted. “But I don’t like the idea of being so... defenseless with him around. I’d never trust him.”

“But enough about me,” Chesh said. “Come, now, Hatter, tell me about when you left Wonderland. I heard some rumors that you settled down and fathered a litter.”

The Cheshire confirmed his guess.  Jefferson wasn’t sure if he was happy to see his Wonderland compatriot or not.  He was certainly closer to the Dormouse and March Hare than he’d ever been to the Cheshire Cat.  Though he had to admit, now that he knew who she was, he could see the resemblance to the cat he’d always had an interesting relationship with.

“Who knows how some ended up here,” Jefferson replied, his voice resigned.  He knew exactly why he’d been brought to Storybrooke by Regina.  “I can tell you the only person to blame is the Evil Queen, not anyone else.”

Jefferson was surprised the Cheshire wasn’t aware of the Knave’s presence.  “The Knave of Hearts was here too,” he replied.  “But I haven’t seen him since the curse broke.  We didn’t exactly run in the same circles here in Storybrooke nor in Wonderland.”  

When she asked him about tea, he sighed in resignation.  “Yes, I still prefer to drink tea, Cheshire,” Jefferson answered.  “In fact, getting tea was on of the reasons I’m here at the diner.”

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Chesh wasn’t entirely oblivious to Mayfair’s pet name avoidance, but she didn’t know the Russian well enough to decide against her own brazen flirtation. Only if she wasn’t a stranger would Chesh even think about disguising her minx ways. Unattached and overbearingly honest. Those were her ways.

“Shepherd and MacTavish. Got it,” she noted aloud.

The feline looked back up at Julia at her question.

“Mystery, adventure, etc.,” she answered mischievously. “Hopefully a job transfer, or an escape, though I suppose those two are synonymous.”

Doll, at least, sounded half-sensible given her porcelain complexion. Accurate as the nickname might be, it still sat uneasily on the Russian’s shoulders, the way such pet names always did. How was it that so many American officers always became so forward, so overtly friendly within moments of meeting? She wondered if this technique ever worked, if someone had ever given in to such overt attempts at winning another over. It had gotten to the point that Julia assumed every attempt at American charm was feigned, the rare sincere exchange coming on too strong for her delicate, high-walled sensibilities.

“That would all depend on what you are here for,” she offered, trying her best not to respond to the loathsome pet name. “I believe I am ‘top dog’ as far as MI5 presence, but I would have to direct you to General Shepherd or Captain MacTavish if you have some other business.” Julia herself was nothing special – a disgraced liaison, no longer even on the level of a JCO – but she was the highest ranking member of the organization as far as the 141 was concerned.

“So, what brings a cousin across the sea?” That mystery got to her more than anything else, how a fed had gone international. With any luck, she could draw out any classified information on that front even if Chesh was to leave her domain.

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“Mayfair,” Chesh rolled the sound around on her tongue.

Sounded pretty damn English to her, despite the tall, Russian model’s accent. But who was she to judge someone else’s name? She practically destroyed her birth name. The sound of Damara Carroll was like a military alarm going off in her head, telling her that someone hostile was coming her way. Her own name was her worst fear’s calling card. It was like she needed to get away, go home, then dunk ice cold water down her body. Chesh wasn’t a pretty name, but it wasn’t one that felt like an attack.

She instantly sliced that thought to ribbons with the pearly claws of her sudden re-entrance of her sanity.

“Nice to meet you, doll,” she said. “You got some sort of superior that I need to report to, or are you top dog?”

Whatever had made this woman brim with a glee best suited to a songbird-devouring cat? Julia found herself pondering such for a long second, operating on pure autopilot as she looked down at the offered badge.

Of course, Americans. They never seemed to call ahead, and too rarely introduced themselves properly. Julia accepted the explanation easily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world that an FBI agent be present for giving the group a once-over. She nodded, apparently signalling to this Chesh that she was free to put aside her badge, when a thought struck her.

The FBI was to the Americans what MI5 was to this country. It was the CIA and SIS who deal with affairs overseas. What was it that had brought this federal agent so far from her usual stomping grounds?

It might be something innocent – the woman pursuing a possible change in career, or simply loaned out the way Julia found the 141 sending her out of her division more often than not. It might be a poorly crafted facade. Julia dared not allow her mask to slip, eyes flitting back to the stranger after such short deliberation.

“Mayfair. Officer Julia Mayfair. I believe we’re cousins, in a manner of speaking.” At least, the Russian knew SIS and the CIA to refer to each other in such a way. Why should it be any different between more naturalized counterparts?

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“The one and only,” responded Chesh, unfazed by his reaction.

Her blue eyes flickered over Jefferson. He looked much more tired here. Much more weathered, but on second thought, Chesh never thought he was ever pleased with Wonderland either. As for her, it was the only place an anomaly like a smiling cat could exist. She didn’t seem to mind it there, even if that realm got dull within all the madness.

“I’m still not positive how exactly I got mixed up in all of this,” shrugged Chesh. “I blame someone different everyday. I was blaming you last Tuesday, I think. Now I’m blaming that rabbit who started it all. I suppose it depends on my mood.”

At the hatter’s question, Chesh’s mischievous mannerisms changed. She shifted in her chair, glancing around.

“Not that I know,” she answered truthfully. “Only the two of us so far. I think we would’ve known if anyone else showed up. There’d be lots of broken everything.”

She paused, a grin coming over her face once more.

“Do you still care for tea?”

Jefferson sucked in a breath when the woman confirmed she was from Wonderland.  So that meant she was a humanized version of themselves, though he wasn’t sure who she was yet.  Jefferson wasn’t sure if he wanted to interact with someone from Wonderland, as he was trying to put that part of his past behind him.   Jefferson had kept away from the Knave, though it had been a while since he’d seen the man in Storybrooke.

As she continued to speak, the woman gave away her Wonderland identity.  “Cheshire,” Jefferson sighed, not sure if he was happy to see her or not.  That cat had been more of an annoyance at times than a friendly face.  “I didn’t know you’d been brought over by Regina’s curse.  Is anyone else here as well?”

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Originally posted by secretsocietyofwonderland

Find your name with the gif button and add the one is the most relatable

[chesshurcat-blog]

Chesh found some humor in Jefferson’s dilemma. There was something cautious in the hatter’s manners, as if each dreaded step was into a different world like he were never the portal jumper he once was. She could practically smell his wariness like a fine cologne.

“You used to,” she answered. “Of course, it’s been a while. You outgrew Wonderland a while ago, didn’t you?”

It was slightly amusing to dangling answers in front of Jefferson’s impatience. Despite the awful good time Cheshire was experiencing, she decided she’d give the hatter a little bit of a break. It wasn’t his fault that she was no longer her beautiful cat-self. Besides, Chesh could in theory have had considered Jefferson a friend at one point.

“I hardly outgrow anything. Cats have nine lives, after all,” Chesh hinted. “Come on, look at all the clues I’ve been giving you. You’re clever, Hatter. Figure it out.”

Jefferson just dropped his daughter off at school and instead of heading directly home, he’d decided on trying Granny’s for breakfast.  Grace had been encouraging him to interact more with the town’s people, though Jefferson still wasn’t particularly keen as he did not want to see Regina again and he’d made a bit of an enemy of the Charming family due to his actions with each.

As he walked into the diner, he felt someone’s eyes on him.  Looking around, he wondering who was focused on him, finding a young woman speaking to him.  He didn’t recognize her though her words to him indicated she knew exactly who he was.  He turned towards her.  “And you are?” Jefferson demanded.  As far as he knew, only the Knave had been brought over with Regina’s curse, though he supposed it was possible some others who were animals in Wonderland could now have human form here.  “Do I know you?”

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“Everyone’s addicted to something, dear,” she replied to the girl. “And humans will never be satisfied.”

For the most part, Chesh had sat just far enough from the bars to not reveal her excitement. However, when this G.I. Joe girl pulled wire out of her mouth, Chesh had to tilt her head and wrapped her hands around the bar. She let out a surprised chuckle.

“Where the hell are you keeping that?” Chesh inquired. “On another note, who the hell are you?”

Better get friendly if Chesh wanted an easy way out, she supposed.

“Sounds like a costly high.” War tested the bar length by trying to squeeze her shoulder through. If she dislocated her shoulder and collar bone she could probably squeeze right out. Or she could try her luck picking the lock. Perhaps the little wire she stored in her mouth could get the heavy metal door open. She’d try that first.

Kneeling down, War dug the wire out of her mouth and stuck it into the lock, trying to feel for the tumblers within. If she could get the door open she’d be out of the cell, but then she’d have to get out of the actual building. War had noticed someone walk out of the bathroom earlier and had seen a window inside. If she could sneak into the women’s bathroom she could slip out the window and high tail it out. Then she could locate Centossa. But they had all her stuff in the back…she’d need her gear, which implied a more violent exit. Well, she’d see if she could get the door first. One problem at a time.

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Her back was pressed against the steel chair. Its cold kiss spread down her spine. Those aqua eyes traced over each detail of every person in Granny’s Diner. Even after the curse was lifted from the town, Cheshire only knew this magic-less reality’s version of the citizens of Storybrooke. Chesh soon became distrusting of anyone on two legs.

With long, delicate fingers, Chesh stirred her spoon around the coffee mug, mixing the contents of coffee and perhaps too much creamer. She felt doubt crawl up her neck. Even if someone from Wonderland were to stumble upon her, she wasn’t positive that they’d be able to recognize her human form. Chesh heard the door open as another lost soul filed into the diner.

Chesh’s eyes followed the man for a moment, inspecting him. Disbelief struck her, followed by something of relief. A mischievous grin gleamed across her face, leaning back in her chair.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” Chesh said, her grin fading to a smirk. “If it isn’t Jefferson. This world suits you.”

@hatterforhire 

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((Yoooo. I updated by verses page a little bit, if anyone’s interested... it explains my character portrayal a little better.))

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Chesh looked up and down the girl. Though young, she looked like she could easily tear someone’s throat out. The girl was definitely some sort of specialist in fighting. She cocked her eyebrow a little. Chesh’s blue eyes traveled to the door, waiting to see if anymore ninjas like her were going to pop out and save one of their younger squad members.

“Auto theft, violating my parole, possession of a deadly weapon, evading authorities, theft,” she replied, counting them off on her fingers. “I’m sure they’ll reduce my charges because I brought everything back. I just enjoy the sensation...”

Perhaps it could be said that Chesh had an addiction to theft- to the adrenaline. She had been doing it since she was a kid. It had become her way of life.

“Glad to know that we both had the guts for a decent chase.”

Seven men. It took seven men to walk her to her cell. Honestly, she was a bit insulted they hadn’t sent more. This was exactly why she hated the civilian world. They always got in the fucking way of her job. Espionage was not a skill she possessed, nor one she really wanted. That was Centossa’s thing. It may sound strange to someone else, but War preferred the chaos and fast pace of the battlefield.

Once the men left she began scanning the cell for a way out. When the MES found out she had been arrested, they would be there within the hour to pick her up. But War didn’t have that kind of time. Her target was still out roaming the streets and lord only knew where Centossa was. Hopefully he was still in pursuit of the target.

War didn’t even glance at the woman across from her. She was to busy examining the bars of the cell and looking for the best way to get out. However, she did answer the woman’s question. “Assault, possession of a deadly weapon, and evading authorities. You?” War simply shrugged as if the charges were nothing, which, to her it was. The officer had tried to grab her while she was chasing after one of their target’s thugs, so she fought back. That was when he saw her pistol and called for backup. She fled, they chased. Eventually she had to go with authorities. Otherwise, innocent people might get hurt.