Monsieur et Ange

( Monsieur Hatter and Arc Angel )

Waiting for Monsieur Hatter: ...


╰⊰⊹ Aysel Renée ⊹⊱╮



⊹ Age : twenty-three, going on twenty-four

⊹ Gender : female

⊹ Sexuality : bisexual, for either gender can catch her interest

⊹ Race : human, naturally

⊹ Appearance : A lean woman of average height, she stands at 5'2" and weighs in at around 100lbs. Her skin is somewhat light with a healthy peach tint to it. Hair is kept short, never spent much time on, but always silky and seemingly in place. It curls in places, but is otherwise rather tamed, its color holding a warm teal, with hints of likewise coloring. Her eyes match splendidly, just a tad darker in coloring, with a glassiness that lead some to name them rather child-like. Her skin, in its warm tone, is seamlessly left with markings, no birth marks, scars, nor freckles to interrupt it's smooth expanse.

⊹ Biography : Born into a rather normal family for modern times, Aysel was raised as a beloved only child by her two parents. They lived in the city, above the family-owned antique store that had been passed down from several generations-- happy, and very much so close-knit. When she was still young, about twelve years old, her mother passed away after spending years struggling against illness.

Her father was ruined from there on out, virtually abandoning the shop, moving the two of them into the suburbs, and never really taking an active part in Aysel's life again. Aysel always strove to help her father up onto his feet again, but after a while, the two had grown so far apart that she gave up and they altogether stopped speaking as she grew old enough to live on her own. She moved out of state for college, paying for most of it herself and majoring in art, then returned to her home town and took over the family antique shop. Her father lives in the suburbs of the city still, and though she doesn't visit often, she does check up on him from time to time.

She lives a simple life, spending everyday as she pleases and doing what she loves. She's well-off financially, has many acquaintances, though few truly close friends, and no real family, more than enough men interested in her, though she doesn't find that they many are to her liking, and a reputation as a pleasant socialite, invited to many parties and admired by many.

⊹ Occupation : Works as a cashier to her family's antique shop, at the normal nine-to-five hours, on weekdays. On weekends, she'll be found working as a part-time curator for one of the city's art museums.

⊹ Talents and Hobbies : Seems to have a way with the written word, and can work magic with most mediums of art, mainly with paintbrushes or pencils. She loves music, though the only instrument she's ever had the pleasure of playing was the piano, and that was when she was but a child taking lessons. She blames her piano lessons for gifting her a love of classical music. Often cooks extravagant dinners for herself and her few close friends, though she also loves catering to parties and such on occasion.

⊹ Personality : Friendly, kindhearted woman with a sweet disposition, a down-to-earth attitude, and an elegance that usually matches her delicate appearance. She does have her quirks, like the need for a hot drink in the morning ( be it coffee or tea ), or her adoration of the kitten she recently adopted, to the point where she treats her almost as another human being. She's well-tempered and not easily annoyed. Carrying herself with a confident, but not arrogant, air, she has no problem entering a room full of strangers and easily becoming the center of attention and a friendly, beloved companion to spend a night with.

⊹ Turn-Ons : Charming, well-mannered people with interests in art and music, if not talents for them ; someone able to light up a room with their presence, socialites ; must be accepting of cats, for she has one ; people with a knowledge or interest of things from an older time, be it antiques, movies, music, etc. ; respectful company that she can relax and have a fun time with.

⊹ Turn-Offs : Those lacking in 'good taste', manners, or those that are too meek for her liking ; those too obsessed with the future to appreciate the past ; modern style truly ticks her off in architecture and design ; dependent individuals who wouldn't be able to hold themselves highly without her, specifically those who have a hard time talking to others aside from their friends-- it's pitiful ; in general, anything cherry-flavored, doctor-oriented, having to do with bugs, needles, or metal.

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~ And I give you... ~
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❥Name ▶ ▷"Fredrick Alain Cheshire", but is only known by his alias; "Jack 'Jazz' LeBeau"◀ ◁

❥Age ▶ ▷Looks to be in twenties, actual age is one-hundred and sixty-six.◀ ◁

❥Sex and Gender ▶ ▷A gentleman and male◀ ◁

❥Sexuality ▶ ▷Pansexual, he only really cares for women, but if a man is beautiful he tends to ignore their gender◀ ◁

❥Race ▶ ▷Immortal, but only from time and age◀ ◁

❥Class ▶ ▷A necromancing bard◀ ◁

❥Physical Description ▶ ▷A tall man of six feet. Body build is lean and skinny, a little on the lanky side. Hair is a mix of dull tones; white to blond, blond to a copper, copper to a gray. Skin is very light, a deathly pale. Eyes are black and white, the colors switched in placed of what normal eyes are to be. His face is adored with markings; three dots under his left eye. The other eye covered with an eye patch. Mouth is marked with lines, making a illusion of a skeleton's grin.

Clothing is of bright, loud colors. Fun patterns such as stripes, dots and such are used. Style is of old Victorian gentlemen with colors of a circus. Always has layers and clothing cover almost his whole body. ◀ ◁

❥Background ▶ ▷Fredrick is an odd man, at a young age he sold his being and soul to a demon. Doing so for he wanted to live forever and do as what ever he wished.

Being born in the eight-teen hundreds (eight-teen forty-five to be exact), Fredrick was a young lad of the Victorian era. Which is where his speech, dressing, and manners come from.

Coming from a poor family that only consisted of his mother and himself, Fredrick started to hate men and became infatuated with women. He saw them as goddesses, for how much they could take. Mentally and physically.

This infatuation is what made his 'dream' come to. Fredrick wishes to make the perfect 'doll'. He has tried many times over his life time and has yet to make his doll yet.

He is (or was) actually Jack the Ripper. Having been fond of prostitutes, for his mother was one, Fredrick was looking for his perfect doll in these women. But was soon revolted at how they nothing like his mother and killed them. He was forty-three at the time, yet only looked his age of twenty.

To this day Fredrick has not changed much and is still looking for his doll. He now works in a traveling circus of cannibals who like the flesh of children. Using his magic and other skills help lure them (the children) into the circus, but his deal was that he would be aloud to have the beautiful mothers. So he could use them for his perfect 'dolls'

Here is a random note; Fredrick still has his mother's body with him. He harden her skin with a mix he has for his 'dolls' and hollowed her body out. So she would not smell. He also worked her joints like a doll, so she would not be stiff.

In reality, his mother is his only completed work of a 'doll'. But since she lacks a lot of things needed, he can not use his dark magic to make her come to life.◀ ◁

❥Job ▶ ▷Works in a traveling circus, doing magic tricks and other acts. Sometimes he plays internments and, or recites in the town the circus stops in, if he is in need of money.◀ ◁

❥Talents ▶ ▷Can play a number of interments, has story telling skills along with skills of reciting, can use black magic for a number of things (often going for the style of voodoo)◀ ◁

❥Personality ▶ ▷A charming gentleman dispirit his looks and intentions. Always is flirting, helping and, or seen with a women. Usually tends to ignore men, finding them to be mindless pigs. Tends to stay 'dark' and 'mysterious', never telling much of himself. Has a huge temper when others touch his things. Often has a warped and morbid view on things. Is fond of felines, absolutely frighten of dogs. Seems indifferent about children. Not liking nor hating them. Finds their views on subjects hilarious and interesting. Is sometime seen telling stories to children.◀ ◁

❥Turn-Ons ▶ ▷Beautiful people, well mannered people, sweet foods and drinks, spicy foods, felines and, or any animal that can still fend for itself while still being elegant, nights and anything to do with the night time, the Victorian era along with the twenties◀ ◁

❥Turn-Offs ▶ ▷People touching his things with out permission, people with out manners and, or social skills, dogs and any other filthy animals, hot temperatures, repeating himself, sour foods and drinks, having no power over something/one, hospitals◀ ◁

You have my...Everything~. ♡

Fredrick sighed as he stalked the streets of the newest town he and the traveling circus took place in. The circus would not start til next day's night, so the blond male decided to mule around the place.

Seeing how modern all seemed to be, he sighed. Making a face as a male with pins in his face walked by. Did that fellow did not know pins are only for voodoo and sewing?

Switching his cello's case to his other gloved hand, Fredrick looked for a spot that might have people who knew true music. Not some modern trash that came from machines. To Fredrick, the only type of true music that can be made is by the voice and, or instrument. A instrument that does need to be plugged into a box to be heard.

After a few moments, the strange looking male spotted an old antique shop. Chuckling, he shook his head. He loved going into these stores, for what was 'old' and 'cool' to the people of this time, were things Fredrick found common and of the norm. Having grew up with these items.

Having no money and needing a new pocket watch, the male decided that playing in front of the shop seemed like a good bet. He would gain some cash, be by a shop he can most likely get what he needs and hey, maybe if he attracted shoppers to the store, he might get a discount.

Humming at the thoughts of his 'master' plan, Fredrick stood by the window of the shop. Lightly placing his cello down, opening it, he brought the large instrument out. He almost brought one of his lighter and smaller instruments, but with how loud crowds, cars and everything is now-a-days, he chose a strong and loud beauty.

Once all set up, he began. Playing the piece Allemande.

{( "Here is a link to the piece, if you wish to listen to it.", Hatter smiled. )}

The tiny wooden ballerina twirled slowly, foot suspended in the air delicately as she slowly twirled about on her platform to the soft music of the antique jewelry box. Even with her paint chipped, movements broken by her rusting gears, Aysel found her to be simply enchanting. Staring with the wide eyes of a child at the figurine, Aysel leaned over her small shop's front counter, elbows propped up before her before her to support her chin which rested delicately upon her entwined fingers. After a few minutes the quiet trill of music stopped, the ballerina freezing in her place, leaving Aysel to sigh softly, contentedly.

Her left hand moved to slowly close the lid to her jewelry box, moving its small latch into place and setting it back under the store's counter. Of all the furniture pieces, nick-knacks, and clothing she had for sale, the music box was one of the few things she would never let go of. That was when her attention was snared by the sudden start of a new piece of music-- loud and strong in sound, yet beautiful in composition. Who would play such a tune? Eyes wide with surprise and curiosity, Aysel slipped around the side of the store's counter and moved past the isles of antiques to the front of the store.

There, just beyond the glass, stood a celloist in attire that one did not see very often. It was vibrant, eye-catching, yet conservative and obviously fashioned for an older era. Smiling at the curious sight, Aysel stood near the front of her store to watch him play. Leaning against a shelf, she crossed her arms carefully before her, a smile playing across her lips. Who was this odd gentleman, and why was he playing in front of her store? His skill with the instrument amazed her, the grace of his playing entrancing her almost as much as the tiny ballerina within her music box did. When the piece sounded just about finished, she made her move-- slipping out the shop's front door, the bell attached to it trilling softly to signal its movement.

"Excuse me, sir," she began, taking a couple steps towards him, posture poised. Her voice sounded strongly, though soft in tone. "May I ask what a celloist is doing in front of my shop?" she asked, blatantly curious, though she didn't wish to offend him, adding, "I do adore your playing, but you see, it isn't of the norm to have a musician playing on the street without purpose." A thought striking her just then, noting the few people gathering about, she cautiously brought it up, "If you'd like payment for your services sir, I would gladly compensate you...?"

[ "A beautiful piece," Angel smiled, humming it softly. "Thank you for the link to it, Monsieur." ]

Hearing light chimes from a bell, Fredrick finished his piece. Ignoring the crowd placing money in his case and taking some of the flyers he had out (for the circus), the male looked to the door of the shop he played by. There, he spotted the envy of every women and lust of every man. The perfect women.

Hearing the woman speak, Fredrick felt himself become even more infatuated with the stranger. Sensing his rudeness by not replying back, Fredrick chuckled, lightly shaking his head as he placed his cello down. Taking his hat in one gloved hand, bowing as he grinned.

"Bonjour bel ange, I am sorry if my playing has disrupted your shop.", hearing her next set of words, he chuckled once more. "Yes, this is true. I am playing for money, but not from you, ange.", the male spoke, standing straight once more as he fixed his hat back onto his head.

"I just chose this spot, in front of your shop, for people who are a fan of the items are old. Usually are those with great music taste, liking real music from the soul.", Fredrick spoke, his one eye keeping his whole attention on the women. Not believing his eyes, let alone his luck.

"Oh, pardon moi! I am Jack LeBeau, though most call me 'Jazz'.", he smiled, "Et tu are..? Mademoiselle?". Fredrick asked, wishing; no having to know this angel's name.

{( "No problem ange, I am happy you enjoyed it.", Hatter smiled, glad to share his favorite pieces with another who could appropriate it.

Aysel was a bit taken back by his lack of reply, at first, but found herself surprised with his appearance once he had set his cello down and turned to look at her. Of course, there were some oddities in his appearance, but even taking them into account there she felt an allure to the man. He was handsome, obviously talented, and once he did reply to her questions, she noticed the difference in his manner of speaking compared to other men.

Soft, musical laughter left her with a smile at his first words. "Hello, sir," she began sweetly, her head tilting slightly as she looked him over casually, "Why, no, you weren't disrupting anything. I actually quite enjoy your playing," she smiled warmly towards him. He caught her a bit off guard, speaking of the love of old things and music, things of which she, herself, adored. "Oh, well, sir, might I suggest that I be the one to pay you? You are, after all, attracting customers," she nearly cooed, tone playful, yet sweet.

Aysel smiled warmly once more towards him as he introduced himself, her right hand moving to casually tuck a stray lock of her behind one of her ears. "Pleasure to meet you, Jack~" she replied, then pausing thoughtfully. "Je m'appelle Aysel Renée," she introduced herself in a velvety tone, eyes still fixed upon him curiously.

Fredrick felt himself grin more as he heard her laugh. It was one that could make bells jealous. Hearing her speak, the forever living male found it hard to focus on her words. Being to distracted by how alluring her lips were and how she tucked rebel hairs behind her ear.

Studying her, Fredrick felt the desire to know everything about her. He has had this feeling before, but never this strong. Almost frighten by his strong emotions, Fredrick gave a charming smile, a sly undertone dripping from his lips.

"Oh~? L'ange parlez Français?", he asked, stating more than asking, "Et.. I can except money from you, ange, mais, I am in need of a new pocket watch. Mine no longer ticks~ and no master of clocks has the materials for such an old clock.". Fredrick spoke as he took his clock out. It was very old, which it should be since he has had it ever since he was a boy.

"Might you have an older, working, clock? I can pay, but a discount would be nice. Since my beautiful cello can only get me so much.", the strange male chuckled, lightly stroking his cello. As if it was a gorgeous feline, which to Fredrick, it was.

"By the way, ange, your name. 'Aysel' means 'moonlight', in Turkish. While in French, 'Renée' means 'Reborn'....A 'reborn light from the moon'... It matches such a beautiful mademoiselle, but is most fitting for an ange..", he hummed, not being able to help himself. Her name matched her perfectly, making Fredrick's feelings of wanting to own her even higher. Which was thought impossible at this point in time.

A warm smile traced her lips as she observed the polished charm of his own smile. It was quite odd, was it not, to meet such a gentlemanly person in the city? Even more of a coincidence that he be a cellist that seemed to have the same interest in older things, as she did. Shrugging the questions that leisurely danced across her thoughts, Aysel decided that she was simply very lucky to meet such a man.

"Un petit peu," she admitted with a grin, then considering what payment might be plausible. She knew she had at least a handful of pocket watches, but to charge the man at all for one may be beyond the question-- his playing drew customers, and aside from the point, she found herself thinking fondly of this 'Jack'. Her gaze followed his hand as it moved to stroke the instrument, distracted for a moment before she summed up a response, "Why, yes, I believe I can arrange for a decent pocket watch."

The information on her name was not expected, her eyes widening the slightest bit. Her surprise was not directly at the compliment, but at the oddness of it. She'd been deemed many compliments, ranging from comments on her porcelain-esque skin, slender figure, somewhat large eyes, though never had she heard a bit about her name. Fancying it herself, she laughed softly, "I... was not aware of that. You are too, sweet, monsieur."

Gently placing her right hand on his forearm, she smiled pleasantly, "Please, follow me. I believe I have what you're looking for.~" Then turning casually, she'd make her way back into her shop, past a few shelves of goods, stopping at a small desk. Sliding open a drawer, she revealed a handful of pocket watches, more of whose designs were tarnished in some manner from age, though they were still well-polished. From the small collection, she withdrew one, turning it over in her hand to look over it before glancing behind her to see if he had followed. If so, she would offer the watch to him, dangling from its gold chain, its top facing him. Its exterior was engraved ornately, and inside, the still ticking watch's hands moved carefully across an ivory surface. It was arguably the best picking from those she had taken out, but she didn't bother to hide the rest. "Does this suit your fancy, Jack, or perhaps you'd prefer another?"

Following her after putting his cello in its' case, Fredrick places it lightly beside him as the miss showed him a watch. Smirking slightly, he lightly gathered the watch into his gloved hand. Checking its' features. It look like a newer model from what he had, being around the time when Lewis Carroll first publish his 'Alice' book (that being a hundred and forty-six years ago). Oh, monsieur Carroll, now that was a man Fredrick had loved chatting with. If he would ever love a man, it would be him.

"I will take it~.", Hatter hummed, pocketing the watch as he pulled out the wad of some odd cash from his other coat pocket. It being what he had gained from his little 'show'. Quickly working gloved fingers, he counted eighty or so. Handing it to the miss, Hatter gave a sly smile;

"What ever does not cover the watch, I can always make up in a service~.", he spoke, his words meaning many. Right when one would be sure he was flirting with the mademoiselle, he chuckled.

"Of course, service in my music playing....Or, in magic.", the hatted male hummed, lightly pulling a flyer out. "I work in a circus. One that just..Adores, children...". He paused, choosing his words wisely. Their meaning of more higher value then she would ever know.

"So if you enjoy such things...I can get you a ticket~.", Hatter hummed, grinning. Loving the idea with two birds and one stone, however, he felt wary of letting the miss go to the circus. She was not a child, so she would be safe, but Fredrick felt a possessive pull over her. And he just hated when others touched what was 'his'.

Aysel nodded once in reply, meaning to simply allow the gentleman to take the watch without further payment after his musical service. The sight of the money, therefore, made he immediately shake her head, her hands up so as to signal that she would not take it. A smile played across her face at what she assumed first to be flirtation, though she found herself to be mistaken.

"Oh non, monsieur, I don't need your money," she interjected with a smile and a short laugh. "I do appreciate your kindness, but your services today were more than enough." However, the idea of having a musician around the shop was rather appealing, and she found herself fancying the thought-- then, of course he simply had to mention a circus. It wounded simply wonderful, for she'd not been to one since her childhood years, and what fun a magic show performed by this gentleman may be.... Hmm. After a moment, she decided to take him up on the offer.

"Mais, Jack-- I would love that ticket~" she cooed sweetly, feeling perhaps a bit odd to be asking for such, but finding the idea alluring nonetheless. Part of her decision, she suspected, was to see the man again as opposed to truly wanting to go. Of course, the idea of a circus was appealing on its own, but throw this unusual gentleman into the mix and and the thought becomes quite irresistible.

Seeing her deny the money, Fredrick rose a a thin brow. She did not want pay? Looking around, the timeless male wonder if she was doing well with her shop. Hearing her speak, he placed his full attention back onto her.

"Are you sure, ange? I doubt that my playing was that helpful..", he hummed, spotting a few people in the store. Some were looking at him, curiosity perked by his odd appearance, something he was quite use to. While others just ignored him, looking at the varies nick-knacks.

Seeing the miss take the ticket request, he grinned slyly. How cute~. Feeling a whole new flirtatious flame in him, he rolled his sleeves up slightly. A small patch of pale skin peeping through the gap, black markings in the style of random designs adoring the skin. Much like his face.

"A ticket she agrees to~...", Fredrick spoke, his voice growing in volume, gaining the attention of shoppers around him. "Thus, a ticket I give to the bel ange...", he started, before giving a wink to Aysel, "Only, however, if she leans forward...And make her lips in the shape that one does for kissing. ". The male grinned, waiting to see what the mistress of the shop would do.

By now all the shop's customers had their eyes on the two. Curious to see what will happen.

Aysel laughed softly at his reply, one of her hands rising to her face, two of her fingers absentmindedly running across her bottom lip as if to calm her amusement. It was endearing in a way to hear him ask if she was sure. She lived a decent life in the middle class, her shop easily paying for itself and giving her a bit extra, and her weekends at the museum paying for all else. Anything else she desired, she wasn't afraid to work for. "Oui, monsieur. I am quite sure," she trilled in reply, grinning. After all, she rather fancied the man thus far.

She couldn't help but notice the markings on his arms, her gaze tracing over what she could see on his arms before flitting back up to his face. His decision to draw the room's attention quite intrigued her, smiled widening in admiration of this choice. One of her brows rose, curiosity dancing in her eyes as she wondered what he was up to with this odd request. The first thought, of course, may be that he would kiss her-- but no, she didn't expect the expected from him. Perhaps magic, then?

Nevertheless, she decided to play along for their onlookers, "Comme vous voudrez," she spoke loud enough for the others to hear, though her tone remained soft. She then did as told. Leaning forward slightly, lips moving as if to kiss someone, she awaited what was to come, her eyes locked onto him.

Fredrick felt a sly smile work up onto his lips as he watched Aysel lean forward. Her lips awaiting for what he had for them. Feeling his will faltering for a moment, Fredrick leaned in himself. Taking a chaise kiss, the gentleman pulled away. A sheepish smile on his lips, practically screaming 'Sorry'.

Turning to the shock group of people, Fredrick rose his hands. Showing their gloveless state, his sleeves pushed up so no trickery could take place. Making a face as he wiggled his nose, acting as if there was something in his mouth. Fredrick rose a hand to his lip, where he started to pull a stream of tickets out of his mouth.

Gasps, clapping and other actions floated around the room from the small group. Once Fredrick pulled the last ticket out, he let out a small burp. Chuckling as others did as well.

"Excuse moi.", he chuckled, lightly dabbing his lips. Like one would do after they ate.

Rolling the tickets into a neat roll, he handed them to the miss. A smile on Fredrick's face.

"These are for you, give the extras away for free to whoever does business with you.", he chimed lightly. Pulling his gloved back on and pushing his sleeves back down, Rebuttoning his cuffs. Afterwards, he leaned in, close to Aysel's ear, he spoke;

"I must leave now, I look forward to seeing you at the show.", Fredrick whispered, leaning away from the miss after he spoke. Raising her hand lightly to his mouth, kissing it once before he tipped his hat.

"Au revoir ma bel ange~.", he hummed, giving a wink as he took a step backwards.

Turning on his heel as he lifted his cello's case, Fredrick started walking towards the exit. Taking his leave as curious gazes follow him. Til' they couls no longer look upon him. The bell's chimes signaling his leave.

{[ Angel grinned sheepishly, "Oh, boo, Monsieur-- pardon my posting here, but I accidentally assumed it was my turn to post and ended up resubmitting another reply to your previous response. I'm not quite sure how that happened. Thus, my editing and rambling here... My apologies for the trouble." ]}

[Yes, another edit;

"Oh shoot!" the miss exclaimed, huffing slightly at herself. "It seems I was mistaken above, and should not have deleted my new reply... My apologies, once again. I'll have a reply up again, hopefully soon!~"]

{( "It is fine~.", Hatter smiled, finding the others' actions simply adorable. "I understand.", he replied, knowing how much work and stress the other had on her shoulders. )}

Eyes fluttering open suddenly at the feel of lips pressed to hers, she stared at the man, a ferocious blush smothering her cheeks as she said nothing at first as he pulled back. Then, hesitantly, she returned his shy smile with a small one of her own. She was not expecting the expected of him, yes? Well, the expected had been a kiss, which she didn't expect from an unexpected man, but then what was there to expect and left unexpected? Her thoughts became quite complex in their indulgence into the subject of the male before her.

Then turning to her customers, she found herself flustered at the fact that she'd nearly forgotten about them. Clearing her voice slightly, she regained her composure, surprise quickly fading into calm once more as a slow grin lined her lips. The pink tint that dusted her cheeks, however, lingered.

A soft gasp parted her lips as he produced the tickets, one of her hands rising to her mouth, fingertips brushing along her lower lip as she observed him with a bit of awe evident in her expression. "Why, thank you, Monsieur," she chimed happily at the end of it all, as he leaned in to whisper his goodbye to her. "I'll be seeing you," she replied softly, a smile stirring her expression now, "Merci beacoup!~"

Looking down at the roll of uncanny tickets in her hands, she then glanced up to see the bells on the door chime, grinning as she watched him leave. What a pleasant young man.

[ Angel sighed softly, nodding then yawning, stretching her arms out as she did so. "I believe you've become quite busy in your hangout thread," she commented with a small, lazy smile, "I'll lay off of there for now, it's quite the fast-paced conversation. Though, perhaps I'll visit another time if things ever slow for you."

"As a side note, I've forgotten to comment on your latest avatar!" she exclaimed, a bit disappointed with herself. "I hold a select few authors, animators, and artists in general close to my heart-- Tim Burton is easily among those. Lewis Caroll- or, if you prefer, Mr. Dodgson- is also among them."]