mypartnerintime: (Abbot and Costello)
Max Caulfield ([personal profile] mypartnerintime) wrote in [community profile] entranceway2016-01-06 07:26 am

[Action | Text]

[If you haven't finished the game, spoilers below! Updates: After meeting with Alex, Max is in the Mansion poking around now. Feel free to meet her there exploring!]


Max woke up in the forest at night. The first sensation that hit her was the cold- the sudden jump from fall to winter was jarring, and she wasn't dressed for the season or the snow. She slowly came to her feet. The realization that she wasn't in the right place came even slower- as did the rising fear, panic. This wasn't right. She'd been at school, she'd been sleeping...

What? At first it was hard to think, but once she started she couldn't stop. Where am I? What is this? The last time she'd woken up in a strange forest some crazy shit went down. Snow? No, no... Not again! I fixed it! We fixed it! She actually put a hand to her mouth, as thought it would help stifle the panic or hold down the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Hello?" She shouted, the call ringing through the trees, fearful and desperate. "Is anyone out there?" In the distance she could see lights- a building, something. She began to walk towards it, arms wrapped around herself against the cold.

Eventually she made it out of the forest, and onto the Mansion grounds. The building looked warm and inviting, softly lit against the backdrop of a dark night sky- like a fairy tale. She walked warily towards it. All the while, she tried (and failed) to fight down the incessant thoughts that brought such fear- What did I do? Did I mess up again? And the one that she feared the most- What's gonna happen this time?

[OOC: Feel free to meet her in the forest, on the grounds, or even entering the Mansion.]

[After an hour or two spent taking stock of her surroundings and her possessions, she sends a text.]

I hear I can use this to talk to everyone?

Hi there. Max to Wonderland.

I guess I'm joining your crazy fantasy vacation

Is there anyone out there who can give me a leg up? I just want to know what's going on.
rosswood: (what'd you shoot this with a potato)


[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-07 09:11 pm (UTC)(link)
He's not so stupid that he'll make the same mistake twice - Alex Kralie is a lot of things, but he's not a complete idiot. He's got his communication device in hand, ready to switch the unstable video feed on at the slightest notice. He doesn't dare step past the treeline, either - Philip said the ghouls and ghosts should be gone by the time holidays have ended, but Alex isn't about to take any chances. If there's anything out there, this time he's made sure to be ready for it.

It's doubly cold at night, and his breath chills in his lungs at each inhalation. Christ, it stings. But he can't sleep, and what's a guy with to do when he's got wisps and fragments of things just hanging out in his skull? Gotta clear his head.

After a few more minutes of restlessly prowling the outskirts of the woods, Alex turns away with a sigh. There's nothing out here. Nothing but night air and a risk of hypothermia.

And - a voice?

Someone's calling out, except there's no bright white light or halos or angelic bullshit to go with it so Alex is pretty sure he's not dead or dying.

Yeah, hang on.

He doesn't answer, not right away. But he's got a flashlight in hand, and he jerks it up to shine it right in the direction of the voice, possibly with the intent to temporarily blind the source. Just, you know, in case there's still a wendigo in there.
rosswood: (your editing lacks continuity)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
Sure, it's no wendigo. But Alex is pretty far from grateful about it once his flashlight's able to shine a little light on the situation in question. Aaaaand - it's a human. More specifically, some random-ass chick. The bright beam lowers from her face almost at once, accompanied by a disgruntled sigh.

"Jesus Christ," says Alex, sounding more disgusted than anything else. "Another one? Do you guys show up in flocks? Do you coordinate this?" And, more importantly, did they somehow single Alex out to be the receiver of Wonderland's newest, because he does not appreciate it.

He scowls briefly. This lady didn't exactly ask for this but that doesn't make him sympathetic by any means.

"You should get inside." He jerks his chin in the vague direction of the mansion. "S'not really safe out here."
rosswood: (it's so david lynchian)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah," says Alex, resigned. "You're not the first person to just show up here. Or the only one. Welcome to Wonderland."

The chivalrous and politely masculine thing to do would be to shuck off his jacket and hand it over, but fuck if Alex is about to ditch his only protection against the cold. It is freezing and he doesn't wanna die like that. He doesn't wanna die at all, period. He's out for number one, here.

He takes a couple steps back, points his flashlight ahead in the mansion's direction. "C'mon, or you're gonna freeze, and die, and it'll suck, and I'm not cleaning it up."

Real and warm and friendly, Alex. A+ introduction.
rosswood: but my lust for blood is (ghosts aren't real)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 01:29 am (UTC)(link)
"It's January right now. Sorta. Time is kinda weird here." He starts cutting a direct path right back to the mansion. It's not exactly his responsibility, really, but hey, might as well, right? He's cold and tired himself, so it's like he's already heading back. He's not helping anyone but himself here. Not going out of his way.

The dark doesn't make it easy to see anything beyond the bright beam of the flashlight and the reflective white glare of the snow, but Alex squints at the rough scribbled marks on his hand, where he's taken to denoting the date.

"It's, uh, the fifth, I think. Or - I guess the sixth, now." From the degree of pitch-dark they're dealing with he'd guess it's midnight, or it might as well be. "People come and go. Most stay in the mansion since there's not really any way out."

Where's that damn brochure Philip sent him? He'll have to dig that out once he gets her inside. Once he...gets himself inside and she follows him. Yeah.
rosswood: (that's not tomato juice)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 01:56 am (UTC)(link)

"Yep," he says, his tone landing somewhere between bored and matter-of-fact. "Happened to me, not too long ago. I haven't even been here a month."

And then she neatly summarizes everything he hates about this place in three words, to which Alex doesn't do much other than glance back as she processes. He's learned to take shit like this in stride, but not everyone gets that kind of experience right off the bat. Also, her arrival seems to have been a little less convenient than his was. Lucky her.

"Yeah," is all he can think to say to that. "But, uh, it's not so bad. Magic closets, free booze, place to stay. Could be worse." Yep, definitely hit the only selling points about this place, because the holidays were a pain in the freaking asshole. But she looks like she needs some morale boosting, all right? Inject some normalcy into this whole encounter. Alex brushes a stray dusting of snow off his shoulders as he shuffles up to the mansion's doors. "I'm Alex."
rosswood: (it's so david lynchian)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
Alex throws his shoulder against the weighty doors and gets them open with a groan. Christ, but it feels good to get inside. The shift in ambient temperature once he steps in is almost immediate. He leans his weight against the door to keep it open until she's inside, at least.

"Not in Canada, and not in Kansas either," he says dryly. "Thank god, honestly."

It's mostly a joke.


Alex starts rubbing his hands together, blowing hot air onto them in an attempt to breathe some warmth back into them. He flexes them into fists and then back again, wincing. Thawing everrrrrrr so slowly, thanks for that.

"Enough of 'em," he says with a faint shrug. He feels like muscles might actually be creaking in protest, still stiff from the cold. "I can't even tell you how many floors this thing has, and there's rooms for people on every one, so. There's a network, though, so I guess you could check there."
rosswood: (your editing lacks continuity)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 04:17 am (UTC)(link)
"Kinda." He gives his hands one last flex before digging his phone out of his pocket. Small, black, rectangular - pretty standard. "Everyone gets one of these when they show up here. You should have one, or your room will, or whatever."

Place is almost intuitive when it comes to that. Maybe he should mention it, but he's not really cut out to be the general information guy. He was shit at customer service back at home. Maybe he should point her in Dr. Phil's direction like he did that other lady. Maybe...


He lets the door swing shut with a dull clunk and whooshes out a low sigh of relief. Finally out of the cold. Thank fuck.

"It's not perfect, but it's communication. Wonderland-only, though. Doesn't go beyond that." He hesitates, frowning. Is there anything beyond Wonderland?

Does he even want to know?

Okay. Too late for an existential crisis. Moving on.
rosswood: if you don't have friends (how to make a movie)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
The only person to get jacket privileges from Mr. Kralie is far, far away from here. He hasn't spared her much thought. Best not to think about things like that.

He can't fully conceal his interest when he sees Max pull out a camera of all things, looking for all the world like she's about to start a photoshoot of the whole place mere minutes after arriving. There's someone with an artistic bent to rival his own. He raises his eyebrows, intrigued despite himself.

"I don't make a habit of it," he says, resigned. "Not the best for explaining this place. You'd probably do better finding someone else to give you the 411." It's not an apology for being brusque, but it's about as close as Alex is liable to get at this hour. But then, interested, he persists on one point of interest he can't let slide, "you a photographer?"
rosswood: (your editing lacks continuity)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
He cracks a wry half-smirk. She seems kind of on the younger side. Maybe a freshman or something. He arranges stiff fingers into a roughly rectangular shape as he holds them up, a vague frame. Sure, they're chilled to the bone and slightly numb, but it's worth it. "Film major. Thought I recognized another artist."

Naturally, he recognized no such thing, though he might use that retroactively explain why he's acted so genial. Well, compared to other people he's met. Of course something so superficial would take precedence in his head. Congratulations, Max. You've just become ten times more interesting.
rosswood: most of them could tell you their favorite radiohead song (if you lined up every white person)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
Alex telegraphs a sympathetic wince. He doesn't have the fondest memories of being an arts kid in high school.

"Gets way better once you hit college," he says. "People stop giving a fuck about requirements and focus more on what it all means, you know?"

It's easy to talk about it like they're all going back to it one day. Maybe it'll help take her mind off it.

Maybe it'll just make things worse.

Well, hell, maybe she's worth giving a damn about after all. He rummages around in his pocket for a minute before giving up on locating a pen and paper. He used to carry that kind of shit around out of habit, but this late he must've thought he wouldn't need it.

"Reminds me, I'm on the fourth floor," he says, jabbing a finger in a vague up gesture. "Room forty-four, pretty easy to remember. You pretty much just walk into any room that's unoccupied and its yours. So, y'know, if you ever wanna talk photography or something."
Edited 2016-01-08 06:30 (UTC)
rosswood: (that's not tomato juice)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 06:52 am (UTC)(link)
"I should be. Alex Kralie. Pretty much everyone's on there." Well, there goes any plausible deniability right out the window. He doesn't make a habit of sharing his last name buuuuuut, well, he's taking a small risk here. Besides, she's a high school kid, how much trouble could she possibly get into?

And he is definitely going to regret thinking that, isn't he.

"The rooms have closets that tend to give you want you need. S'where I got this." He tugs at his own jacket lightly. It's not perfect, but it's clearly winter apparel - even has some faint snowflake patterning, much more visible in the mansion's interior light, which is admittedly hideous and definitely Wonderland's idea of a joke in Alex's mind, because there's no way he'd be caught dead in this otherwise. "It was August where I came from, so I didn't have anything. But, uh, the fashion taste leaves a little to be desired."

He scowls. Fuck you, little snowflakes.
rosswood: but my lust for blood is (ghosts aren't real)

[personal profile] rosswood 2016-01-08 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Yeah, tacky. That's a good word for it. Alex can't wait to ditch the winter theme for the sanctuary of his bed. Still, maybe his sleepless wanderings might've landed him something interesting, for once. That's a first. A welcome, welcome first.

"Fair enough." He's not the type to carry cameras around anymore, not once he learned what they had the habit of attracting, but maybe here things can be - different. Better. That's the hope. "There's lots of weird shit hanging around. You shouldn't have any shortage of subjects."

His smile is a little too tight, a tad strained. It's hardly a sufficient warning for what can happen, but he frankly doesn't have any idea how to warn for that sort of thing.

So he simply shrugs tiredly and starts climbing the stairs.