You had been living with Odin for a few years now, and the two of you had become thick as thieves.

Which was good, because that was exactly what you are.

As young children living alone on the streets, you needed a way to get cash. Too young to work, you had both developed quite a talent for pickpocketing.

"Look at her," You heard a girl say to her friend. "She looks like Cinderella before the bibbidi bobbidi boo!"

Her golden locket? Gone.

A young boy cackled to his friend. "Imagine if that was your sister."

His luxury wristwatch? Swiped.

"See that?" A teen pointed at you to her brother. "That's what I'll do to you if you don't give me my bag."

Her velvet purse? Conveniently in your pocket.

You headed up to the top of the library, where there was an awning just away from the public eye on the roof. Odin was there waiting for you.

"What you get?" He turns to you expectantly as he organizes your previously pilfered products.
You open the purse. "Ten gold pieces, a locket..." you look up at his face, which remained indifferent toward your pickings. "...and a Beast wristwatch."

Odin's eyes lit up as he snatched it from your hands. "Beast, huh? That's one expensive brand." He grinned at it.

You sat down next to him and grinned. "That's probably a few hundred gold pieces alone."

Odin studied it, turning it around in his hand as if to not miss an inch. "You did great, Jewel."

Your cheeks heated at the praise. "I'm really glad you think so, Odin."

"What is blot, exactly?" You ask.

"Blot is formed when a mage casts a spell. Observe," Crowley whips out his staff and holds it out for you to see. A crystal is hidden beneath the iron crow on the end. "Do you see that the stone is clear?"

You both nod.

Crowley waves his staff, making Grim levitate into your arms. You catch him mid air, though Grim looks annoyed at being the subject of the spell. He refuses to leave your arms as you try to set him down.

"Now, direct your attention to the magestone." Crowley holds it out for you to see. You give up after Grim claws your arm and hold him up to look at the gem.

"Myah! The magestone looks all grungy now." Grim wipes the stone, but the dark smudge that's inside doesn't come out. "It won't rub off!"

"Precisely." Crowley puts the pen away and places his hands on his hips. "That inky black stain is the byproduct of spellcasting known as 'blot.'"

"Ew! That's capital-G gross." Grim sticks out his tongue.

You tilt your head. "Will it come out eventually?"

"It will."

"Phew. Had me worried there," Grim sighs in relief. "So that happens when I use magic?"

"It does. But with sufficient rest, blot will vanish from your magestone." Crowley assures him. "This is why a magestone is so valuable to magic users. Not only does it aid in your casting, it also serves as a lightning rod of sorts, to prevent blot from accumulating within the caster."

"What would happen if there was too much blot inside a gem?" You ask.

"Then that would cause the user to overblot." Crowley explains.

"Oh great." You sigh. "I hate that already. What's it mean?"

Crowley's face darkens. "It means that the user has too much blot accumulation combined with negative energy, and the forces will overtake them, turning them into a monster set on nothing but destruction."

Great, yet another reason to hate magic. Seriously, why is this even legal?

Grim cowers in your arms. "Wait, does this mean-"

"No, Grim." Crowley shakes his head. "You are highly unlikely to overblot."

"Phew!" Grim sighs again, then pauses. "Wait, why?"

"Only the strongest mages have the capability to overblot. It is highly improbable that you have the potential."

"Hey!"

"Well, that is a relief." You sigh. "One less thing I have to worry about. But why is there blot in the mirror?"

"Well, have you ever considered why some have the ability to use magic?" Crowley asks. You shake your head no. "It is because the stories are written that way. We all rely on the foundation they create for our world- simply put, the blot is essentially the ink used to write our tales. Those who are gifted with magic simply have the ability to channel that power."

"Wait, so then how can magic be safe to use? Also, what do you mean 'our tales?' Are we in a story?" Your eyes widen in horror. Seriously, how is any of this legal?

"It's harmless in small amounts, and with a good diet and plenty of sleep, most of the blot will clear away- and stories are always being written, and always recorded. However," Crowley explains. "You have somehow disrupted Alice's tale, which has caused the ink to bleed. Therefore-"

"The ink poured into the portal." You pale. What had you even done?

"The story should have returned to normal after you departed." Crowley explains. "However, you caused a lasting change in the tale that's different from its original path."

"So what'll happen now?" Grim asks.

"I don't know. There hasn't seemed to be any immediate changes, but the situation must be monitored. Just be sure to be cautious from this point forward."

You nod, mind reeling. You hope nothing happens as a result of the blot, but... you aren't naive enough to expect it.

"So what now?" You ask him. "Are we going in again?"

"You are." Crowley nods. "Five more times."

"Let's get this over with."

"Just five more times, and then you've gotta teach me how to be a great mage!" Grim hoots. "Just you wait Crowley, I'm gonna be a better mage than you ever were!"

"Yes." Crowley agrees flatly. "I'm sure you will."

"Where to?" You interject.

"Ah, yes, of course. Your next heist will take place in The Little Mermaid."

"Wait." You look at Crowley like he has two heads. "I might tell people I was in Poseidon's Annual Underwater Festival Bananza, but that doesn't mean I actually was."

"...I beg your pardon?"

You wave him off. "It comes up a lot. Point is, you just sent me into the savannah with a bunch of lions. I know, lucky me, they were measly oxygen breathers. But how do you think that-"

"You should not need to go below the surface to steal this object." Crowley assures you.

You nod. "Good. What are we stealing, a dinglehopper?"

"No, the-"

"Snarfblatt?"

"No, it's-"

"It's not the statue, is it?" Grim crosses his arms and his ears fall flat.

"No! Would you listen?" Crowley put his hands on his hips and scowls at you both. "You will need to retrieve the Shell of Silence. If you remember the story, the Sea Witch traps Ariel's voice inside a seashell when the princess exchanges it for human legs. Ursula later uses it to trap Eric in a spell."

"Oh." You nod. "That's fine then. No more arts and crafts, thank you very much. I never went to Kindergarten, and I'm not exactly in a hurry to make it up."

Crowley's eyes flicker with an unreadable emotion, but only for a moment. You wonder if you had imagined it entirely. "Unfortunately that couldn't be helped. But no, none of the other heists should involve an element of artisanal nature.

"They'd better not." You shoot him the evil eye, which he brushes off.

"Now, I have something for you." Crowley smiles and waves his hand, magically producing the item in his hand. He unwraps the cloth around it to reveal your tart.

"Ooh, yay!" You cheer, putting Grim down and clapping your hands.

Grim smiles, running up beside you. "Yummy!"

You shoot him a glare. "Not for you." He laughs sheepishly. You take the tart and stuff it in your rucksack, wrapping it back in the napkin and in the shawl to protect it.

"Now, you've done this a few times so I trust you're well acquainted with the procedure."

"Yep." You nod at Crowley and swing the backpack over your shoulder. "Go in, grab the necklace, get out, don't change anything."

"Precisely." Crowley nods. "Are you absolutely certain you're ready?"

"I'm fine." You respond with an annoyed frown. You had a little incident, but now you were fine. He doesn't need to treat you like a kid.

"So long as you're sure." Crowley purses his lips. "Step through this mirror here- good luck!"

You take one last look at the mirror to Wonderland. It still churns and bubbles angrily like the most potent of liquids.

You can't let that happen again.

You take a deep breath and step through the portal.

You arrive in the middle of a seaside town bustling with people. Grim appears at your feet a second later, looking around the area. You see ships docking in at the port, fishermen walking around with their nets and rods, merchants selling goods and wares, families strolling around together, parents swinging their children around in a circle, and...

...and there are merchants!

Shaking your head, you urge yourself to focus. You seem to be in some sort of town center area with buildings lining the streets.

You take in a deep breath of fresh sea air and marvel at the ocean. You walk closer heading down some steps onto the wooden footpath of the docks. You stare out at the vast blue water, sparkling in the sunlight. Looking down by your feet you see the waves splash against the support poles rhythmically.

"It's beautiful." You sigh, looking out in wonder. It must be the biggest thing you've ever seen.

"Yeah." Grim agrees, crossing his arms. "I've never been to the ocean."

"Me either. It's my first time."

It's here and now you come to a decision: there's not a pumpkin's chance past midnight you are getting in the water. Just no. The sea is essentially an abyss, and one you do not plan on exploring. Especially one where mermaids exist, because if they exist then who knows what else could. Sea monsters? Sea dragons? Sea... other creatures? You couldn't be paid to go in there.

...okay maybe you could be paid, but it would have to be a lot of money. Thankfully, Crowley said it wouldn't be necessary.

You turn to head back up the stairs to the town and find a lead. You doubt you'll find anything at the port.

The town seems to be fairly happy, and children skip around with smiles. People eagerly crowd around one building in particular, and you almost walk into many of the individuals who eagerly bustle around it. You continue to wander around the village, not finding anything particularly useful.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous." You groan in annoyance. "We don't even know where exactly we are, let alone where the little mermaid is supposed to be."

"We could get some food?" Grim suggests with a smile. "I think better on a full stomach. D'you think they have tuna?"

"We don't have money, Sparky."

"You haven't pickpocketed anyone since we've been here?" Grim gapes.

"...we haven't got any extra money, Sparky."

"But we have money for tuna!"

You sigh. "Okay, here's the deal. We're gonna have to split up to cover more ground- you head that way," you point back in the direction you came from, "to explore the other side of town. Keep a lookout for bright red hair or a place to stay. I'll keep going this way, and we'll meet back at the town center when the sun starts to set. Can you handle that?"

He crosses his arms and smirks. "The Great Grim can handle anything."

You let out a sigh that comes out mixed with a groan and drag a hand down your face. "Fine, but stay out of trouble? No more sneaking in through windows!"

"That came in handy!"

"Not the point!"

"Fine." He agrees, ears flattening before a smile breaks out across his face. "I'll be on my best behaviour! Meet you back at sundown!"

He scampers off before you can say anything, one destination in mind: the busy building where a yummy smell was coming from. What you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, right? He'd get the searching done after one teensy little detour.

He arrives at the foot of the building, running into the alley at the side to look for an open window. He grins when he finds one, hopping up and wiggle through it. You don't know what you're talking about, saying not to go through open windows. They're the best!

Once inside, he finds himself in a kitchen. Workers run around preparing food, not paying particular attention to the small gray monster on the floor. Grim ducks under a counter for cover and sniffs the air.

So many delicious smells! Fresh seafood is food heaven. Grim practically salivates at the thought alone.

"Here!" A chef calls, setting something atop a nearby counter. "I'll leave this out here for you."

"Thanks!" His colleague calls over before directing his focus back to finishing up his current task.

There, on the counter, completely unguarded, is the ultimate prize: a whole fish. He doesn't know what kind, but he's sure it's gonna be tasty. With a chuckle, Grim scampers over under various work benches.

He hops up onto the counter, and sees the beautiful, beautiful prize right in front of him! Its flesh- a vibrant coral-pink marbled with delicate white ribbons of fat that gleam like satin under the light. It carries the faintest whisper of the sea—fresh, briny, and clean, as if it's just brushed against ocean waves. The surface is smooth and supple, almost jewel-like, daring you to admire it a little longer before indulging. It's both untamed and refined, the perfect balance of nature's artistry and culinary promise.

Grim stares at it, drooling. Its colour turned a blush pink in the light, like it knows it's too good for the oven. These people wouldn't know how to appreciate it properly! It deserved nothing but the best- really, it's in the fish's best interest to be in his belly. He takes it in his paws greedily, ready to take a bite.

"RACOON!"

Grim jumps and looks around, still holding the fish in his paws. "I'm not a racoon!"

"It talks! Demon racoon! Get the manager!" The chef screeches, taking a carving knife into his hands.

"...meow?"

Seconds later and the room is in chaos. Grim bolts across the room, fish in hand, running for the window. The supposed manager comes in, staring bewilderedly at the scene. Chefs dive out of the way so as not to get near the devil whilst others dive to try and catch it. Grim dodges them all with expert agility (if he does say so himself) before leaping up onto a table and leaping out the window.

He lands in the alleyway, still holding his precious fish. Quickly he scampers further away from the main road, zig zagging through the paths until he arrives at the outskirts of town. He pants to catch his breath, appreciating his view of the ocean and his fishy prize.

Wait... there's another smell too. He sniffs around and follows his nose to a slightly grassy area. There, sitting on the ground, is another one of those rocks he found earlier. It smells different this time. Without a second thought, it goes down the hatch.

Just as disappointing as before. It smelt like it'd have a real mature taste- slightly bitter yet tangy.

It was a disappointing side for his fish.

Grim had scampered off before you could say anything else, much to your displeasure. You didn't like the look he made on his face before he left. You groan and walk forwards, wondering if you made a grievous mistake.

You haven't been very successful in your hunt for clues on your own either. In fact, you've wandered for so long you've reached the outskirts of town and have arrived at a sandy beach. You sigh and sit, taking a breath for a moment to relax.

If you don't find anything that's fine, time moves differently in the stories than in... reality? You're not quite sure, since this all seems so real too. Did this place even exist, or was it just an illusion? It didn't seem that way, but you suppose that would be the entire point of the mirage. Surely these places must exist though- after all, you brought the solid proof back with you each time. But then what was the place you came from? That was reality, and when that was reality this was nothing but a fairy tale.

Maybe reality really was subjective. After all, Crowley had theorised that the stories had altered originally based on your own expectations and perception. Maybe this reality was still reality, just a different one from yours.

Then what had you done to Wonderland's reality? Had you permanently damaged theirs? Would it impact yours?

You really need to stop thinking about this.

If you do end up staying in this world longer than expected, you're not worried about accommodations. You're used to sleeping on the floor, so the biggest problem would be accidentally missing the main plot- that would be a problem. Supposing that you miss the important moments entirely, Ariel could be out of the ocean and have defeated Ursula before you would even get a chance to see the shell. What then?

You stare off at the water, letting the rhythmical waves and peaceful atmosphere calm you. You like the ocean... so long as you don't have to go in it. The singing is nice too.

...wait, singing?

You stand and grab your backpack, looking towards the sound of the voice. If there's one thing you've picked up on, it's that music breaks only happen around important characters. You rush off in the direction of the voice, slower than usual due to the sand.

You round the corner so quickly you almost interrupt the scene, so you crouch down behind a rock to watch and hide from it. The moment is both exactly the same and entirely different from what it's supposed to be.

Well, what had you been expecting? Every other story had been slightly off, and now you know that this will be the same. Instead of Prince Eric and Princess Ariel, you've got... Princess Raven-hair with Prince Apple Head. The girl is lying on the beach in a tattered dress, hair soaked and eyes shut. The red haired man (who you blush at the mere sight of- honestly, why did he have to be shirtless?????!) is gently moving hair out of the girl's face as he gazes down at her.

You sigh in relief- the story is just beginning. You have plenty of time to get that necklace.

...still... where is that dog? Isn't the dog supposed to come and find her? Where is he?

"MY FISH!" Grim screeches, running with half of it slung over his shoulder.

"WOOF!" A dog barks excitedly.

"Max! Come back!" A lanky graying man runs after them both, lamenting his luck and desperately hoping the princess was alright.

You're getting concerned when the merman finishes singing his song a third time. By then, even the magic of musical theatre doesn't seem to be keeping him engaged, and he's looking around with worry. The Princess is still out, and it's not looking good. Her condition is getting worse by the minute- she needs help immediately.

But what if you disrupt the story?

You feel a pit in your stomach at just the thought. You were here for your freedom, but there isn't much point being free in a world that is crumbling down around you. Besides, you have been feeling guilty for a whole lot of things recently. You don't need something else to add to the pile.

Once red head starts slapping the Princess across the face to wake her up, you realize you need to do something now. If the princess dies, you have a feeling that'll cause more damage to the story (and completely erase your chances of getting the necklace!) than anything you could do right now.

Probably.

It seems the story really needs