Thread: The Madness Among Us... [Blissy & November]

The Big Bad Wolf. 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. What sort of person was the hatter anyway?