<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: ravi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 19pt;"><em><strong>New Scene</strong></em></span></span></div><br/><br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Ravi;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><strong>Name</strong>: Rabbit<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Broken Cup<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: <em>Open.</em><br/><br/>Time had spun away from her. <br/><br/>Or rather with her, that was the proper term of it she thought. With, always with because time, well that was <em>hers</em> and she was the only one in Wonderland to have the proper time. It was such a precise art, to keep, to harness, to cosset and given to such a capricious and unpredictable guardian. If one could call her a guardian. The two toned haired lass could be called a lot of things, some she enjoyed, others enraged her and those, well those all depended on mood. What worked one second didn't work the other. It was all a matter of timing, such a fine art.... <br/><br/>She blinked, grey eyes gleaming in the light oddly for a moment, catching from the fireplaces perhaps and seeming eerily red. But then they were simply that sweet dove grey color, at least for the moment. Her most natural hue was like the steel of a fine made watch hand she thought, metallic, sharp, gleaming and pretty. <br/><br/>But careful otherwise... cut. <br/><br/>Cut who? She? Herself? Or others? Her mood was wavering, the affect of time running away. The Rabbit frowned to herself, rubbing her temples as she slumped in a back room; she loathed when the time spun away with her, it made the world feel like it was in free fall. It meant <em>she</em> was in free fall. Up or down, as of yet she didn't just know. Perhaps cutting would tell but there was work to do, her pocket watch chiming to remind her. One hat doffed, another to don. She had seen to Hatter's deliveries before the haze, or perhaps during it. The Knave had been by and had failed to offer something to compensate for her time. Rather rude of him. Time was so precious after all. <br/><br/>With a moue in her lips she straightened from the counter she had leaned against and clattered quickly down stairs, into the basement. Her den, burrow, whatever one wanted to call it. The den was more her domain then even the rest of the Broken Cup, and here she did rule. However here was her sleeping area, her clothing, her personal effects. Was it day or night? She knew the time but not the nature of the light outside, she didn't often go outside of course, not with her duties here, not unless the Hatter fetched her or she was in need of the Hare. That made her nose wrinkle for she was forever caught between the two and her nose twitched as she realized she couldn't tell which one would do for her mood tonight. Hands swiftly, but mindful of being nice to her clothing, discarded her outfit and she went through the closet that was half the size of the Cup underground. Hats were put on display, gifts as they were, but her watches, oh her watches were enshrined. And then there was the skirts, the dresses, the few pants, slacks or jeans, the blouses, the ribbons, the flounces, the bows. Her tongue tapped her lower lip as she contemplated what to wear. <br/><br/>Color was expressive after all. <br/><br/>But her eyes, as ever when she was nude and in this room, were drawn to her watches. The one that beckoned her this time was old tarnished gold and bronze, aged beautifully and inlaid with rubies. Red then. Red and white. Hips swayed as she riffled through her garments, tugging on a pair of sinful panties with a bow on the back of them, she followed it with white thigh highs that were edged in red lace as well. Red leather heels strapped to her feet before she plucked up a bra that matched her panties. A Rabbit had to be neat after all; she was a representation, a mediator, a ruler, even in her own small domain. And she always chose her clothing, neither of the H's could force her in that; it was her image and she was not prey. <br/><br/>It didn't matter that she wasn't predator either. <br/><br/>A white dress, so very innocent was selected, granted its innocence was questionable considering how short it was, flashing the tops of her thigh highs readily, with a baby doll cut to the top, little puff sleeves, a sloped neckline. Her next object was clever, she thought, red supple leather vest to close around her ribs, to offer up her breasts almost to view but not quiet. She flirted at the edge, as always. Because in truth she was always, in her mind, in body, in everything, flirting at the edge. Of everything. It could be rather tricky but time, ah time let her handle it. Her hair she actually caught back a bit, half of it left down, tied in a silky crimson red bow. No hat, for she hadn't chosen. There was that edge and appearances, well they could send signals after all. <br/><br/>Neither H would presume too much. She hoped. Otherwise they might have to have words. <br/><br/>The watch was plucked up, caressed and she gazed at her nails before tucking it between her breasts to warm the melt, shivering happily at its coolness before she settled with that familiar flounce of hers onto a chair and started painting her nails white and red stripped to go with her outfit. Her makeup was redone as well, just a hint of red around her lids, blurred out to white, to her skin. Her lips she left that so perfect pale pink, just glossed them and then smiled, giggling to herself when she noted her little fangs were a touch sharp. Yes, the edge. <br/><br/>She hummed as she danced up the stairs and then into the pub itself, rather then the back warren or the upper stories, her room was locked behind her, key tucked within her bra and her hands caressed her watch as grey eyes flickered over the common room thoughtfully. Time was of the essence, but for what she didn't know yet. It would become clear though, it always did. She made certain the waitresses were doing their jobs, that the tea was fresh, another timing trick and then perched on the counter, watching, waiting, all the while her fingers stroking the top case of the watch sensuously. </span></span>