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Born: 17 July 1986
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ALIAS: ELLEN
HEIGHT: 5'5"
AGE: 28
OCCUPATION: HACKER & FORGER
QUOTE/LYRICS: I CAN TURN IT ON, BE A GOOD MACHINE, I CAN HOLD THE WEIGHT OF WORLDS, IF THAT'S WHAT YOU NEED, BE YOUR EVERYTHING, I CAN DO IT, I CAN DO IT, I'LL GET THROUGH IT, BUT I'M ONLY HUMAN, AND I BLEED WHEN I FALL DOWN, I'M ONLY HUMAN, AND I CRASH AND I BREAK DOWN, YOUR WORDS IN MY HEAD, KNIVES IN MY HEART, YOU BUILD ME UP AND THEN I FALL APART, 'CAUSE I'M ONLY HUMAN
PLOT PAGE: http://fbtlg.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=120&view=findpost&p=238
APPLICATION: http://fbtlg.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showtopic=1243&view=findpost&p=3540
IMAGE: http://i.imgur.com/ODp1YEe.png
GIF: http://i.imgur.com/xyVK4r0.gif
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Joined: 17-September 13
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Feb 19 2015, 08:05 PM
Local Time: Feb 20 2018, 10:08 AM
64 posts (0 per day)
( 0.75% of total forum posts )
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jenna oswald

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Oct 28 2014, 01:33 AM
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kings and queens,
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INTO THE NIGHT... DESPERATE AND BROKEN... THE SOUND OF A FIGHT... FATHER HAS SPOKEN... WE WERE THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF PROMISE, WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES, MAYBE THE CHILDREN OF A LESSER GOD, BETWEEN HEAVEN AND HELL, HEAVEN AND HELL... INTO YOUR EYES... HOPELESS AND TAKEN... WE STOLE OUR NEW LIVES... THROUGH BLOOD AND NAME... IN DEFENSE OF OUR DREAMS... IN DEFENSE OF OUR DREAMS (DREAMS DREAMS) WE WERE THE KINGS AND QUEENS OF PROMISE, WE WERE THE VICTIMS OF OURSELVES, MAYBE THE CHILDREN OF A LESSER GOD, BETWEEN HEAVEN AND HELL, HEAVEN AND HELL... THE AGE OF MAN IS OVER, DARKNESS COMES AT DAWN... THESE LESSONS THAT WE'VE LEARNED HERE, HAVE ONLY JUST BEGUN



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Jenna was venturing out of doors for once. It didn't happen often these days due to it being so bitterly cold in the winter or oppressively hot – and reminiscent of the day she'd met Fintan – in the summer, but every once in a while, thing struck a perfect balance and made going outside worth the crowds and the din of traffic. Today offered up one such afternoon. And thus, because someone (not Skye) had made a comment recently about how unusually pale she was looking, she packed up her laptop and a few books and left her flat. It really was a beautiful afternoon if one ignored the smell and the cacophony of cars and people. A music player solved the latter problem for Jen but not the former, which she was perfectly alright with; it was easier to tune out unpleasant scents than too-loud sounds. She considered stopping by Charley's to pick up Tristan and take the Shiba Inu with her to Leicester Square and then quickly gave up the idea.<p>

Though she missed her pets, putting Tristan and her ferret Leena in Charley's care had been the best choice for all parties involved, because neither she nor Skye was home often enough to ensure that they were properly cared for, and she trusted that her assistant would do an excellent job. Going to visit them would only make Jenna want to take them back, the hassle that would come with transporting them back and forth between Wonderland and London be damned, and that was the last thing she needed right now. Hitching her bag higher up on her shoulder, she sighed quietly. Things had finally calmed down in Wonderland now that the wedding and coronations were over and done with – though everyone was still adjusting to have a new Queen in the palace – and she was glad for the reduction of activity and stress. She'd leapt at the opportunity to return to London after being stuck in Wonderland dealing with preparations for what she thought was far too long.<p>

Jen hadn't told anyone that she'd returned from her "trip", either. Usually, she checked in with Charley to see if any good jobs had come her way while she was gone, but she wasn't planning on staying in London for more than a day or two, and plus she really just wanted to have some time to herself. She'd been feeling very overstimulated lately which had absolutely nothing to do with a certain White Rabbit named Fintan who seemed to be everywhere she turned these days. Blowing out a breath, she surveyed the square. It was crowded, like it always was at this time of day, but there were still little pockets of seclusion where people like Jenna could set themselves up and go mostly unnoticed if they knew what to look for. Finding one such pocket, she pulled out her laptop and settled in, prepared to spend the next several hours in her spot. It had been a while since she'd coded just for the hell of it, and her "muscles" needed the exercise.<p>

Logging on to her own secure server, she navigated to a hacker message board she frequented and checked the challenge list, which ranged from beginner shit like "code and release a Trojan horse that reroutes the user to stupid cat videos every time they click a link" to more advanced (and illegal) things such as "hack into Parliament" – Jen may or may not have done that once before – or "funnel so-and-so's funds through an account in the Cayman's". She was looking for something that would challenge her skills without getting her arrested; her "rebel phase" was over and done with, thanks very much. It took about ten minutes of scrolling through challenges before she found something that interested her. "Build a website that's geared toward raising awareness about a disease/charity/little-known but important topic and track how many hits, redirects, shares, et cetera you get."<p>

The web page itself wouldn't be difficult since Jenna had started doing those at around the age of eight, but finding all the right information and setting up all the proper tracking programs would take a good chunk of time and effort. Plus she would need to make the site appealing if she wanted people to actually spend more than a few seconds perusing it and then share it with their friends and/or followers. Signing herself up for the challenge, she started the timer on her laptop's taskbar and got to work, a topic already in mind. Those who knew "Honey Badger" (a moniker the other hackers had given Jen because she seemed calm and laid back most of the time but would go absolutely batshit when provoked) fairly well knew that she would educate anyone and everyone about how to prevent, report, or recover from rape whenever she had the chance. She didn't want anyone else to have to suffer the way she had. The way she still did.<p>

On more than one occasion, women's shelters in London had found themselves the recipient of a large donation from an anonymous donor (what harm was there in taking other people's ill-gotten gains and putting them to good use?), and she planned on sharing information on those shelters and their various charities for this challenge. Jenna didn't even care if she won – she just wanted to get the word out.

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TAG: BREE Ⅱ OUTFIT: HERE. Ⅱ NOTES: PICKPOCKET, MEET HACKER. HACKER, PICKPOCKET. :D Ⅱ WORDS: 899

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May 6 2014, 08:07 PM
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breathe me,
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HELP, I HAVE DONE IT AGAIN... I HAVE BEEN HERE MANY TIMES BEFORE, HURT MYSELF AGAIN TODAY... AND THE WORST PART IS THERE’S NO ONE ELSE TO BLAME... BE MY FRIEND... HOLD ME, WRAP ME UP... UNFOLD ME, I AM SMALL AND NEEDY, WARM ME UP, AND BREATHE ME... OUCH, I HAVE LOST MYSELF AGAIN... LOST MYSELF AND I AM NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. YEAH, I THINK I MIGHT BREAK... I’VE LOST MYSELF AND I FEEL UNSAFE... BE MY FRIEND... HOLD ME, WRAP ME UP... UNFOLD ME, I AM SMALL AND NEEDY, WARM ME UP, AND BREATHE ME...


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Jenna had never felt this utterly wrung out before. Not even the Lumini-wide debacle that had been her breakup with Lorcan (or, more accurately, his unexpected dumping of her via his absolute gem of a little sister) had left her feeling this shatteringly empty afterward. Being rejected by Fintan had hurt. It had cut through her in a way little else could because rejection wasn’t something he did. Not with her. Or not that she could remember, anyway. In the past, every time she did something idiotic, he would just smile that tiny little smile of his that seemed to say “I’m okay with you the way you are” or “Nothing you might do could drive me away”, and Jenna would feel the fear that was creeping in and threatening to consume her whole slink back to the shadows with a growl of discontent.<p>

This time, it had won the fight and engulfed her. The shock and anger initially brought on by it had kept her together in front of Fin, but once she’d gotten herself to her quarters, it had torn her apart. She’d cried until her throat and ribs ached from the sobs that had wracked her body and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and clamped in a vice, and then she’d curled up on her uncomfortable bed and allowed exhaustion to overtake her. It was morning when Jenna finally woke, and though she felt like absolute shit physically, the emotions that had swept through her the night before were gone, leaving nothing in their wake. Her mind was hazy, everything dulled and obscured by a fuzzy blanket of grey. She hated it.<p>

**some time later**<p>

Roar. She needed to find Roar and talk to him, before the quivering sensation of panic that was taking root in her chest swelled into a hurricane. It took her a bit of searching, but she eventually found him in the palace gardens playing his guitar, a sad, plaintive melody developing under his skilled hands. A lump rose in her throat as she closed the distance between them. “I’m a ticking time bomb.” Jenna said by way of greeting, leaning into his back with her arms tucked against her own chest and pressing her face into his left shoulder blade. Physical contact was a rarity with her; it was something she only initiated when she was feeling especially low, and was her way of telling him something big was bothering her. As if the tremors running through her body weren’t a tell in and of themselves.

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TAG: ROAR Ⅱ OUTFIT: HERE. Ⅱ NOTES: I KEPT IT SHORT, HOPE THERE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU TO WORK WITH Ⅱ WORDS: 425

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May 6 2014, 02:15 AM
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breathe me,
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HELP, I HAVE DONE IT AGAIN... I HAVE BEEN HERE MANY TIMES BEFORE, HURT MYSELF AGAIN TODAY... AND THE WORST PART IS THERE’S NO ONE ELSE TO BLAME... BE MY FRIEND... HOLD ME, WRAP ME UP... UNFOLD ME, I AM SMALL AND NEEDY, WARM ME UP, AND BREATHE ME... OUCH, I HAVE LOST MYSELF AGAIN... LOST MYSELF AND I AM NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. YEAH, I THINK I MIGHT BREAK... I’VE LOST MYSELF AND I FEEL UNSAFE... BE MY FRIEND... HOLD ME, WRAP ME UP... UNFOLD ME, I AM SMALL AND NEEDY, WARM ME UP, AND BREATHE ME...


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Jenna had never felt this utterly wrung out before. Not even the Lumini-wide debacle that had been her breakup with Lorcan (or, more accurately, his unexpected dumping of her via his absolute gem of a little sister) had left her feeling this shatteringly empty afterward. Being rejected by Fintan had hurt. It had cut through her in a way little else could because rejection wasn’t something he did. Not with her. Or not that she could remember, anyway. In the past, every time she did something idiotic, he would just smile that tiny little smile of his that seemed to say “I’m okay with you the way you are” or “Nothing you might do could drive me away”, and Jenna would feel the fear that was creeping in and threatening to consume her whole slink back to the shadows with a growl of discontent. This time, it had won the fight and engulfed her. The shock and anger initially brought on by it had kept her together in front of Fin, but once she’d gotten herself to her quarters, it had torn her apart. She’d cried until her throat and ribs ached from the sobs that had wracked her body and her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and clamped in a vice, and then she’d curled up on her uncomfortable bed and allowed exhaustion to overtake her. It was morning when Jenna finally woke, and though she felt like absolute shit physically, the emotions that had swept through her the night before were gone, leaving nothing in their wake. Her mind was hazy, everything dulled and obscured by a fuzzy blanket of grey. She hated it.<p>

Unfurling from her bed with a hiss, she stripped off her pullover and pyjamas and stuffed them into the locked trunk at the foot of the bed, sitting back on her heels and withdrawing a worn jewelry box from its depths. She traced the design on its top with her fingertips before flipping it open and revealing its contents. Jenna already knew exactly what the box held, but looking over it all was a part of her ritual. Her multi-hued eyes skimmed over it all. A roll of gauze; a tube of antiseptic cream; an unopened suturing kit; a small, innocuous-looking curve of wood. She plucked the final item from the box and then set it down, the thumb of her right hand caressing the small curve of metal that protruded from one end for a beat before pressing down, the straight razor nestled between the pieces of wood rising from its cradle. Her lips curled in a sneer even as she carefully thumbed the blade to test its sharpness. Jenna’s hatred for herself in these moments rivaled all else. Weak. She was so very weak; an ill-kept, delicate piece of china that would crumble under anything more than a light tap. Skye would be appalled if she saw her now. You were such a spitfire, always tearing people down with the precision of a surgeon! This isn’t you!! She could practically hear the brunette saying. Closing her eyes, she lay the flat of the blade against the inside of her arm midway between her wrist and elbow, absorbing the feeling of cool metal on her skin. That’s not me anymore, Skye. This is who I am now. Jenna thought, and then opened her eyes and drew five quick, sharp strokes across her arm.<p>

Tears involuntarily sprang to her eyes and a soft gasp tore itself from her throat, but she switched the razor to her other hand and repeated the action even as the pain bit in and the blood welled bright against pale cream. Things regained their crystalline edges of clarity as suddenly as if a switch had been flipped in her brain. Rising, she shivered against the chill of the room as she crossed to the water basin tucked in the corner by the fireplace, cleaning the blade of her razor with a dampened scrap of cloth. Once all traces of her weakness were wiped away, Jenna turned her attention to her arms. The slices throbbed, and were deep enough that blood was still sluggishly leaking from them, but not so deep that they would leave anything more than the faintest of scars if left to heal naturally, which she hardly ever let them. Not unless she wanted to be reminded of something. Her gaze trailed to the inside of her left elbow and her hand came up to dance the calloused pads of fingers over a starburst design of pale pink scars. Eighteen cuts – one for each month she and Fin had been together. An aide-mémoire to Jenna of what she had destroyed. A “here there be dragons” warning on the map that was her life, her very soul. She was her own dragon; a monstrous creature of fire who wanted nothing more than to be accepted for who she was, but who’d been feared and misunderstood for so long that isolation was better than the alternative, better than being accepted and then having that acceptance abruptly ripped away when she eventually said or did the wrong thing.<p>

Gritting her teeth against the thought, she swiped roughly at her arms with her cloth. The action stung, but she ignored the pain, part of her saying that she deserved it anyway, so she might as well take it. Balling the cloth in her fist, Jenna padded back over to her trunk and returned her razor to its spot in the jewelry box. Then a sigh parted her lips and she splayed out across the cool stone floor. She would have to tend to her arms soon, but right now all she wanted to do was breathe. Time became inconsequential as she lay there counting her own heartbeats. After a while, the chill started to seep into her bones, and with a groan, she sat up and got the gauze and antiseptic out. She treated her self-inflicted wounds with a quick efficiency that would have belied years of practice to anyone watching, her movements small and controlled. Jenna put everything back in her jewelry box once the gauze was wrapped snugly around her arms and neatly tied off, tucking the whole thing back down into the bottom of her trunk and pulling out fresh clothes, and a bottle of burgundy polish. She redid her braid and then dressed quickly but with enough care to avoid disturbing the wrappings on her arms. Getting blood out of clothing was a pain in the ass endeavor that she liked to avoid at all costs. Two coats of polish were layered over the chipping grey that currently adorned her nails, and then Jenna paced back and forth from one side of her quarters to the other, fingers fluttering in the air as she waved her hands about to help speed the drying process. She finally exited her room about five minutes later, too impatient to wait any longer.<p>

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TAG: N/A Ⅱ OUTFIT: HERE. Ⅱ NOTES: In case you were curious, here are her jewelry box, med kit, and razorWORDS: 1165

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Mar 25 2014, 11:05 PM
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therapy,
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MY SHIP WENT DOWN, IN A SEA OF SOUND. WHEN I WOKE UP ALONE I HAD EVERYTHING... A HANDFUL OF MOMENTS I WISHED I COULD CHANGE, AND A TONGUE LIKE A NIGHTMARE THAT CUT LIKE A BLADE. IN A CITY OF FOOLS, I WAS CAREFUL AND COOL, BUT THEY TORE ME APART LIKE A HURRICANE... A HANDFUL OF MOMENTS I WISHED I COULD CHANGE, BUT I WAS CARRIED AWAY. GIVE ME THERAPY... I'M A WALKING TRAVESTY, BUT I'M SMILING AT EVERYTHING. THERAPY... YOU WERE NEVER A FRIEND TO ME, AND YOU CAN KEEP ALL YOUR MISERY... MY LUNGS GAVE OUT, AS I FACED THE CROWD. I THINK THAT KEEPING THIS UP COULD BE DANGEROUS. I’M FLESH AND BONE, I’M A ROLLING STONE, AND THE EXPERTS SAY I’M DELIRIOUS...


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Jenna was always looking for an excuse to return to London. The Cards were free to come and go as they pleased under Jack’s rule, so long as they didn’t stay away for an extended amount of time, but three odd years under Sienna’s iron grip had ingrained certain habits in her; habits she was having an incredibly difficult time shaking. Even though she knew she didn’t need it these days, she just felt so...uneasy leaving Wonderland without having some kind of reason for it. Take today for example. She was about ready to go “round the twist” as they said in this particular patch of the world – Jenna had lived in London for a decade and knew the slang as well as any born and bred Londoner, thank-you-very-much – but it had taken Judas showing up at her doorstep purring (like the feline he was) about new identities that needed making in order for her to gather herself and make the trek through the Looking Glass. Fucking Judas. Though her relationship (for lack of a better word) with the Cheshire Cat was pretty straightforward, her feelings towards him weren’t quite so clear cut. She despised the cat-turned-human for the manner in which he’d brought her into his employ – even if it was Jenna’s own fault she’d been caught in the first place – but she respected his ability to manipulate and control others, the finesse with which he plucked their strings, and she probably would have found him extremely intriguing as well as astoundingly charming if not for the little matter of the blackmail he held over her.<p>

However, her opinion in regards to Judas was completely irrelevant. He was her “boss” for the foreseeable future, and when he said “jump”, she was going to ask “how high?”. It was the reason she put herself through the tedium and torture of forging identities for all the Wonderlanders that showed up at the various locations where she conducted her “business”. Yes, Jenna did her work in one of fifteen different locations, and she varied her location from day to day (and sometimes client to client). She knew that what she was doing was highly illegal, and no way in hell was she going to allow herself to be caught by setting up an actual office or any of that shit. Crafting the half dozen identities that had been on her docket had taken nearly all day. Even with the various programs she had that virtually ran themselves – custom coded by herself, of course – each Wonderlander had to be met and extensively interviewed so that Jenna could assess how much money to set them up with and what kind of jobs they might be suited for, if they even had that much of an interest in London, and it was oftentimes an utterly slow and wearisome process. Especially when it came to choosing their name. Some picked a name at random from the enormous list she’d compiled shortly after she began this particular line of work, others already knew exactly what they wanted to be called, but the majority spent an inordinate amount of time pondering (and sometimes agonizing over) the choice of a sodding name.<p>

This most recent lot had fallen into the final category, unfortunately. As a result, Jenna was completely exhausted – and also thoroughly irritated – by the time she finally made it back to her flat. Not even storming up the two flights of stairs instead of taking the lift helped to burn off any of her ire. However, the soft violet blue of her flat’s walls did soothe the edges of it. Her landlord had been furious, as she’d painted the whole place without notifying him or gaining his consent, and when he’d demanded she repaint it all, she’d gone to the building owners and bought out the entire floor. That had solved Jenna’s paint problem, plus there’d been the added bonus that now she was the one controlling who her neighbors were. The additional source of income hadn’t really hurt either. Still, a comforting paint color and the solace of a space that was all her own could only go so far. Toeing off her boots in the entryway and depositing wallet, sunglasses, and scarf onto the small table next to the door, she dug her fingertips into her temples and let loose a groan of frustration. Being around people was so fucking draining. She always had to be “on” and falsely polite and pretending like the only thing she had on her mind was whoever she was dealing with. Jenna hated it. Thank God she was finally home and could spend the evening (and probably the better part of the night) composing and very slowly imbibing the bottle of 2007 Chiroubles Trenel Beaujolais she had been sav - - “Cae.” Frozen halfway across the living room, she blinked owlishly at the brunet.<p>

The Ace of Hearts had gained a key to her flat about six months after she’d become a Card. He hadn’t had a place of his own in London and she had, and since he was her superior, it hadn’t really ever been about what she wanted or preferred. She may have detested social conventions and all the effort that went along with them, but Jenna knew when acting accordingly would work to her advantage, and so she’d made the offer to let him crash on her couch out of both necessity and the hope that ingratiating herself to him would work in her favor, just in case she ever managed to earn the Queen’s wrath. Thank God Caleb had never availed himself of his access to her flat when she and Fintan were together. That would have been incredibly awkward to try and explain. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned her attention back to the brunet. He was currently perched (almost awkwardly) on the first of Jenna’s two black couches, and were it not for the fact that she so did not want to deal with another human being right now, she would have found his unease amusing. Wine. She needed fucking wine if she was going to deal with the rest of this day without completely losing it. Exhaling heavily, she padded over to her bar cabinet and got out a wine glass, the Chiroubles, and a corkscrew. “Anything to drink?” She asked as she carefully uncorked the wine, glancing over her shoulder at Caleb. “I’ve got rum, whiskey, vodka...pretty much whatever you might want.” No, she wasn’t an alcoholic. She just...liked to be prepared, since her liquor preference changed frequently.

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TAG: CAE Ⅱ OUTFIT: HERE. Ⅱ NOTES: HOPE THAT’S ENOUGH FOR YOU TO WORK WITH – SHE’S IN SUCH AN ODD MOOD. .-. FURNITURE IS HERE, THIS IS THE SETUP, AND THIS IS THE FLAT’S FLOOR PLANⅡ WORDS: 1100

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Mar 8 2014, 12:45 AM
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my heart,
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I AM FINDING OUT THEN MAYBE I WAS WRONG... THAT I’VE FALLEN DOWN AND I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE... STAY WITH ME THIS IS WHAT I NEED, PLEASE... SING US A SONG AND WE’LL SING IT BACK TO YOU... WE COULD SING OUR OWN, BUT WHAT WOULD IT BE WITHOUT YOU, O-OH... I AM NOTHING NOW AND IT’S BEEN SO LONG... SINCE I’VE HEARD A SOUND, THE SOUND OF MY ONLY HOPE... THIS TIME I WILL BE LISTENING... SING US A SONG AND WE’LL SING IT BACK TO YOU (SING IT BACK TO YOU)... WE COULD SING OUR OWN, BUT WHAT WOULD IT BE WITHOUT YOU, OHHHH... THIS HEART, IT BEATS, BEATS FOR ONLY YOU... THIS HEART, IT BEATS, BEATS FOR ONLY YOU, OHHHH... THIS HEART, IT BEATS, BEATS FOR ONLY YOU, MY HEART IS YOURS...


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Jenna was beginning to worry that maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. It was far too late for her to change her mind, as the invitation had already been sent out and replied to, but she’d woken up that morning with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that she just couldn’t shake. After talking with Roar, asking Fintan to come see her so that they could discuss what had happened in the castle had seemed like the right thing to do. Now she wasn’t so sure. Normally, she could take just about any subject and make it appealing given enough time; the “gift of speech”, her mother called it. However, Jenna lost her firm grasp on words whenever he was around. Countless times she had found herself at a loss midway through a rant about work or traffic or the shop that was raising their prices again even though they’d just raised them last week, all because he’d made a comment, or she’d happened to look at him. He was constantly derailing her train of thought. That couldn’t happen today – she needed to be able to think clearly so that she could properly express herself, and she was afraid that she wasn’t ready yet. She certainly wasn’t prepared to have him here, in her home. There was more of Jenna in the décor of her cottage than there was in the décor of her flat in London, because without her technology, she’d really had nothing better to do than decorate her Wonderland living space. Her flat was blacks and greys and muted colors, while her cottage was rich jewel tones. The colors said a great deal about her even if only those who knew her could understand the significance of them.<p>

Of course, when she’d decorated the place, she hadn’t thought anyone would ever step foot through its door aside from her. Now Fin, the one being who knew her better than any other human or Wonderlander, was about to walk into Jenna’s second home and see touches of her heart all over the place. She was unequivocally terrified. Thank God she knew how to power through less-than-comfortable situations. She had to today. After all, she couldn’t exactly go back to ignoring him. Even though she’d abhorred hearing the word “friends” coming from her own mouth (she’d thought they were more, desperately wanted more, but his naïveté and her own damn stubbornness stood in their way), she had officially reopened that door, and Fintan would be hurt and confused if she continued to avoid him. Did that mean Jenna was okay with any of her current situation? Hell-fucking-no. She was an absolute ball of nerves. Her clothes had been changed six times throughout the course of the day, and she’d redone her hair in four different styles. The cupcakes Zahirah had sent over – the Alice’s apology for being suspicious of her and Roar’s relationship – had been rearranged nine times on seven different plates. She was on her fifth cup of coffee (thank God for french presses). It took exactly twenty-three steps to cross from one side of her living room to the other, and Jenna had made the walk fifteen times in the last ten minutes. Fin was due to arrive in less than half an hour and she was a complete wreck.<p>

Forcing herself to sit down, she set her cup in its saucer on her coffee table and folded her legs over each other at the knees, her foot jiggling up and down in an almost impossibly fast rhythm. The soft fabric of her squishy emerald couch soothed her frazzled nerves slightly, but she was up and fussing with things around her home again after an agonizing ten minutes of just sitting. The sapphire throw pillows were fluffed and repositioned. She twitched imaginary wrinkles from her amethyst curtains. Still too full of nervous energy, Jenna walked the seventeen steps into the kitchen to retrieve the kettle, stuffed her bare feet into her boots, and then strode to the well, counting all twenty-eight steps. Another forty-five steps and she was back inside hanging the now full kettle over the fire. She added three more logs to the ones currently crackling away, swept the already clean hearth with twelve precise strokes of her broom, and then sat back down and proceeded to fiddle with the tea and coffee service set she had brought out. The set was one she’d found in a tiny antique shop just off Oxford Street not too long after Jenna and Fintan had met. They’d gotten a great deal of use out of the set, and it was one of the few breakable items that had survived her post-Alice test rage. One of the cups had made it into her hand after everything else had been destroyed, but the desire to watch it shatter against the tile of her flat’s kitchen floor had fled as quickly as it had come, and that had been the end of her rampage. Then for some reason, she had carefully packed away every piece and brought it all with her to Wonderland when she’d become a Card.<p>

Lifting her cup, she exhaled a breath and ran the pad of her thumb over its delicate design. She should have sold the set, or given it away, but Jenna hadn’t been able to bring herself to part with the stupid things. There were just too many good memories infused into the china for her to ever let someone else have them. Sighing quietly, she drained the cup of its contents, grimacing as lukewarm liquid trickled down her throat. The cup was set aside and fresh grounds were scooped into the french press, her gaze flicking to the kettle. As if on cue, it began to whistle gently, and she rose to get it. Once about half the water had been poured into the french press, she returned it to the fire. She didn’t want to start the tea too soon and have it brew too strong or beginning to go cold. Jenna stood in front of the fireplace and watched the minutes tick by, her bare feet pressed into the warm stone of the hearth, and a song coming to life in her head as she waited. Exactly five minutes later, the kettle was plucked from its hook and she filled the teapot. The smell of blackberry, spearmint, and raspberry instantly permeated the air. Putting the lid on the pot, she returned the kettle to the kitchen. She was in the process of pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee when she heard a solid “dun dah dah dun dun” knocked out against the wood of her front door. Jenna rapped the answering “dun dun” against the top of her coffee table, curled her hands around her cup, and then drew her legs up and folded them under herself. The moment of truth had arrived. “Come in!”

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TAG: DOL-FIN Ⅱ OUTFIT: HERE. Ⅱ NOTES: living room decor, AND THE tea. Ⅱ WORDS: 1160<p>

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autumn leaves has been skinned exclusively for far beyond the looking glass by asya.
she would appreciate it if you didn't steal/use this skin without her permission.
for full credits, please view the credits post here.