TDI: Go Ask Malice...

Gift art for to commemorate our one year anniversary of writing "The Art of Pretending It Isn't Your Fault" [link] together. This is her half of the art trade, or her gift to me : [link]

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, RINA!!!!

EDIT: Thanks to everyone who faved this! I usually enjoy going profile to profile to thank everyone but I've gotten so many faves in such little time and have SO little free time as is, I figured it would be best to just thank everyone at once. Comments, however, will get individual replies

This is a creative depiction of the characters from her Alice in Wonderland themed TDI one-shot, "Heather in Wonderland" [link] which EVERYONE should go read and review to congratulate us on our anniversary.

INFO: The words in back are the jury testimonies at Heather's trial which are found in the story. And I used the phrase 'Go Ask Malice' because I had "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane stuck in my head the entire time I was working on the piece and thought Heather, being evil, would be more of a "Malice" than an "Alice". _{I also didn't like the look of 'Go Ask Heather' as a title. Too vague XP}

So rather than go on explaining my thought process to you, I'll directly quote the character moments that inspired the piece

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Heather rolled her eyes and responded with a flat, "No. This forest is rank and dank, and it smells like burning nicotine."

"That's just as well. We wouldn't be able to appreciate the light if we never had any dark."

Heather took a small step back as she considered his words. They were way too philosophical for a smoking delinquent. "All right, Duncan, what the hell are you on? Because that sure isn't tobacco!"

"Oh, on the contrary," Duncan said, gazing at the stick in his hand as if to make sure it hadn't changed within the last minute. "It certainly is."

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"Hey," Heather said, abruptly switching gears. "Did you dye your hair?" she asked curiously, looking at the pure black mass on top of the other's head.

Gwen ran her fingers through her hair distractedly. "My hair?" Heather nodded her head. "No. Where would I even get hair dye?"

"But…the blue's gone. Your hair looks semi-normal now. You must have dyed it."

"Are you very sure about that?" Gwen asked, widening her smile.

Heather looked down at Gwen. "Well of course I'm very…" She trailed off—the ugly blue streaks were back. "…sure? But your hair was just black a second ago! I'm positive." Heather snatched up a handful of the Gwen's hair and examined it. It looked blue like usual, but that couldn't be possible.

"Heather," Gwen said giddily, nudging her in the ribs. "I think the island's finally gotten to you!"

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Heather snorted. "Oh my god, what is wrong with your hair?" It had puffed out into a hideous afro, larger than the size of her head. It looked peculiarly similar to a hat. Heather wished she had a camera with her.

Leshawna gave Heather the 'talk to the hand' signal. "Oh, don't start with me girl. You know what happens when it gets humid outside!"

"But it's not humid today."

"Do you want to tell that to my hair?" Leshawna pulled out an oversized spoon and shoveled it into an oversized plastic container. Then, noticing Heather once more, Leshawna held out a second pudding cup. "Puh-ing?"

Heather's stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since that carelessly thrown together breakfast Chef had made before he and Chris went AWOL. "Pudding," she said dryly. "Really?"

"Really!" Leshawna mumbled through her full mouth. "It's the best stuff."

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Heather took a deep breath, preparing to handle Owen using the only tactic she knew he would respond to—pure animosity. "OWEN! Why do you have my necklace? I demand you answer me now!" She stomped her stylishly clad foot for emphasis.

Owen narrowed his eyes and clapped twice in Gwen's direction. She hopped off of her spot on the volcano, scampered down to where Heather stood, and clamped both of Heather's hands behind her back with a devious smile. Leshawna walked in front of Heather, folded her arms, and spat, "How dare you speak to the king like that."

"That's unspeakable!" Gwen chimed in from behind.

"Unheard of," Duncan asserted.

Heather shook free of Gwen's grasp and stared up at Owen from the base of the volcano. "The king of what? This island? Junk food? Obesity?" Heather whipped around to see that Gwen, Duncan, and Leshawna had gathered in a semi-circle behind her.

"Why, the King of Farts, of course!" they replied in unison.

Heather gaped at them. "That is absolutely the stupidest thing I've ever heard...You're nothing but an obese, naïve idiot who has no idea what he's talking about! You're stupid and fat and no one would ever make you the king of anything!"

For a moment, the room stood still. Nobody spoke. Or breathed. Heather widened her eyes as she registered what she'd just said, and the other three stood frozen in wait. Owen's face crumpled in on itself as though he was going to cry, but a moment later the look was entirely gone, replaced with a stony glare never before seen on such an innocent face.

"OFF WITH HER HAIR!" he cried.

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STATS:
Fave to do/Most complex: Duncan
Fave colors/final result: Gwen
Easiest/Funnest: Owen
Most creatively altered: Leshawna
Hardest: Heather

Original reference poses taken from "Search and Do Not Destroy", "The Sucky Outdoors", "TDA: Aftermath II" and the movie poster for Planet Terror _{(don't ask)}

Art (c) strayphoenix
"Heather in Wonderland" (c) Contemperina
"White Rabbit" (c) Jefferson Airplane
Alice in Wonderland (c) Lewis Carroll