paper_knight: (jones beach)
[personal profile] paper_knight
At first there’s nothing but darkness and crashing waves. Then low, speaker-buzzing groaning. Too deep. Unsettling. Inhuman.

But this isn’t right, is it? This isn’t a person.

There’s a howl of static: a badly played theremin, a radio clumsily tuned. The pitch of the voice rises, grows hoarse and pained.

Better.

More tuning. The sufferer takes a deep breath--and promptly chokes on seawater.

There’s quite a lot of panicked and undignified splashing after that, during which the broadcasting device tumbles into the breakers.

The camera view eventually clears to reveal a gently swaying view of the night sky--and the sound of retching.

On the beach, Mark Meltzer sits stiffly back on his heels and wipes his mouth. He’s very cold and very wet, and there are some distressing blank spots in his immediate memory. But he remembers Cindy. She was right there, he’d held her--and she needed help, needed a cure that for all he knew might not exist. Everything else can wait--he’s got to find her.

He jerks to his feet and manages a few long, purposeful strides along the shoreline before he comes across the comm device, bobbing in the incoming tide. He blinks at it. Scoops it up.

“Oh.” Realization. One or two of those blank spots jar into focus. Anger, fear, loss. “Oh, no.”

He could--should--call for help, find out who’s still out there, how long he’s been gone, get back to work. Instead he folds slowly forwards, arms wrapped tight around his ribs, and starts to cry.

[Video]

Oct. 26th, 2013 08:06 pm
donttestme: (Ha... pp... y?????)
[personal profile] donttestme
[At first, it's just a video of a blank wall, trembling a little - but then whoever's holding the device raises it up to their face: It's Chell. Well, it looks like her, but that expression is very not-Chell.

Her eyes are wide and she looks scared and confused and more importantly, she's talking. Loudly. A lot.]


I'M NOT DEAD?! But I'm not me either?!

MIRRORS ARE YOU OKAY DID YOU MAKE IT OVER HERE TOO?! REPORT! How are you doing did the roots get you?? Have you heard from anyone else? Are you all stuck in your Reals too because I think maybe I am and she's noaaaAERK --- fshfu-

[A funny look crosses her face, and the device falls from her hands. There's a few seconds of it just recording the floor, but in the background, Chell whines. She stumbles against a wall, by the sound of it, but she goes quiet. A moment passes, and the device is picked up again: This time, Chell's expression is more controlled, more tired, more annoyed.]

Don't touch the plants.

[She says firmly, nearly through her teeth. Then she ends the video.]

((ooc: You can specify who you are replying to, or leave it to chance, as Mell and Chell struggle to agree on a timeshare arrangement for control.))
livinlavitaeloca: (as a novice • everything in my power)
[personal profile] livinlavitaeloca
-----xcuse me, is this working?

[ The picture focuses on Daniel, who -- despite weeks in the mansion being exposed to all sorts of eras -- is still stubbornly wearing his 1830s Victorian clothes and 1990s Kurt Cobain hair. The room behind him is similarly styled; once he figured out he could change its appearance at will, he went all out.

Daniel taps on the screen and peers into it, like he's trying to see through a particularly opaque window. ]


Hello? I, ah... I hope this is working.

[ Well, if it isn't, then nobody will be able to see him making an ass of himself. He takes heart. ]

I am Daniel Barker, of London. I wonder if anyone in Wonderland -- that is, anyone this message reaches? -- might be so kind as to direct me to, perhaps, a chapel or a church. You see, it is Sunday tomorrow and I have been quite unable to find one.

[ He sort of lets it hang there, wearing his best 'i hope i don't look like an idiot' smile, and feeling more than a bit silly to be talking to an inanimate object. ]
goodnightlisteners: (a story about you)
[personal profile] goodnightlisteners
[Cecil has never had to broadcast from a handheld radio before. It's practically a walkie-talkie. He's not even sure if this is getting out to anyone, but a radio personality is nothing without an audience. Maybe literally.]

[The broadcast sounds like there are at least four hooded figures with Cecil as he talks, all distortion and static.]


Hello? Night V--er--Wonderland? Sor--kssssss--ssional broadcast, but I'm coming to you from a handheld, and well...I'm not even--fffssssss--nyone is hearing this. Seems we're in the midst of an event again. I can only assume that all of my fellow Wonderland denizens share my current fate and are trapped in a se--kzzt--erground mines.

The signal is so very weak, Wonderland. I hope you can hear my v--sssss. I hope it brings you some comfort; some modicum of human contact in these trying times. I hope that all of you are still alive and well. There are ma--fsss--onsters about, and a dangerous-looking lake. If you are in a group, stay in your group. There is strength in numbers, Wonderland.

[There's a pause and then--since there's no Station Management around to yell at him, and Cecil is more afraid than he's been in awhile--he decides to get personal.]

Carlos? If you can hear me...if you are--zzzzfffff--lease...please be safe.
livinlavitaeloca: (dreams and visions • restless nights)
[personal profile] livinlavitaeloca
[ Daniel wakes up in his hotel room in the village of Altstadt. He is definitely in Altstadt, and certainly not in a room in Wonderland which has styled itself to look exactly the same. And, it logically follows, this room is definitely not broadcasting a video of him without his knowledge or consent.

THAT ESTABLISHED,

Daniel springs out of a restless sleep and sits up on the edge of his bed, blinking in the morning light. It must be earlier than it looks, because nobody has come to knock him up, and he definitely asked to be knocked up at 7am promptly. He was very clear in asking to be knocked up.

They'd better not have forgotten. Might they have done? This is sort of a ghetto guest-house, if you want his honest opinion. There's not even a bell he can ring to call a servant.

Okay, Daniel doesn't have time to be annoyed by the inconveniences of rural life. His thoughts are too full of the last leg of his journey, which will be undertaken today, to the castle where he might finally find some safety -- so he stands up quickly, steps away from the bed. Lacking a clock, he just assumes he's late, and starts to undress hurriedly out of his woolen cap and night-shirt.

The network is still definitely not there, but if it were, it would probably now be broadcasting an early Victorian strip tease. ]


(( ooc: info and permissions post! [x] ))
safetylantern: (Default)
[personal profile] safetylantern
{{ shallow breathing can be heard as the camera clicks on, first filming the palm of the mans hand, then finally flipping over to face him. his lefthand runs slowly over the front of his face, eyebrows pulled inward as he stares down at the strange little machine, hearing odd noises comingout from it. }}

H...Hello? Is there...anyone around here?

{{ his gaze never quite stays fixated on the camera, looking all about him, eyes darting to the walls and the windows, as if expecting them to disappear at a moments notice. }}

My name is...Daniel. I need help finding someone...I don't...quite know where I am.

{{ he speaks into the air, his eyes finally settling back down on the device, seeming to look even more confused than before. }}

[ ooc; still working on icons, ah ha, taking a bit more time than I expected... but look, you still have this nice default one to look at! and that's pretty swell, isn't it? ]

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