refusing: (sweetly)
[personal profile] refusing
[Seated in a chair with her feet propped up on a nearby little table, Rose Tyler is attempting to figure some things out. She's almost entirely convinced the TARDIS will show up at some point or her mobile will ring and she'll be right on her way. So she's casual and calm, not really in a big rush to say what's on her mind.

She toys with her communicator for a moment, which causes it to drop. Cursing under her breath, she hops out of her chair to pick it up, and resumes her casual slouched down position, feet back up on the table.
]

Captain's log -

[She pauses, laughing at herself.]

Nah, that's total rubbish. What about this one?

[Barely able to keep a straight face, she sits upright and slides the communicator across the table so only half of her face is view. She's now pulling a dramatic face that some damsel in distress would before she was killed by a robot overlord.]

Look anything like one of those awful sci-fi movies, then?

[It's followed up with a sigh, and then she gets down to business. Her communicator is picked up and set on her lap, and she stares down at it.]

Sorry. Don't really have a knack for using these things yet. Thing is, I'm looking for my friend, thought that maybe he might be here? He goes by the Doctor, yeah? And he's always going on like a big excited kid 'bout things nobody understands. But I do, some of the time anyway, and -

[Nope, keep those emotions in Rose. Keep 'em in. A hand goes up to her mouth, her fingers curling up against her lips as she becomes increasingly more worried over all this.]

I've gotta find him, if he's here. He's hopeless when he's out there all on his own.
nascensibility: this one is my favourite (life's a very funny proposition)
[personal profile] nascensibility
I've...been here for three years.

[It's been a while since Evelyn went back onto the network; just over three months since she found the body in the library, since a number of other victims surfaced here and there, peppering the populace with anxiety and distrust. A great deal has happened since then, not necessarily limited to recent events but involving other extenuating incidents.

She almost missed her own Wonderland anniversary, thanks to a reenactment of primary school over the week-end. And it has now been three years since she appeared in the Mansion foyer, dripping wet and shivering from an unsavoury and unwanted dip in the Nile. Over one year since she came back from her longest stretch away from this place.

Altogether, too long.
]

I know it seems...somewhat inappropriate to celebrate being stuck here for ages, but someone who was here longer than I told me to make the most of our time here. If we could.

[As far as the video feed can offer, Evelyn is standing on the pier with the ocean at her back, a ridiculously wide hat on her head - those with pale skin understand - and an apropos outfit on.]

So...so it's a sunny day and there's a marvelous breeze, if anyone would like to join me on the beach for a picnic and a little sailing.

[In light of the recent mutilation, lightening up is the very best people can do - Evelyn has no intention of pretending that the pre-event murder never happened; this just happens to be step one on a long road to recovery...again. A small sloop sits just in the distance off the edge of the dock, water lapping at its sides. It cost a pretty penny of a memory, but now Evelyn can't even remember for which one she traded the boat.

She glances back at her nautical purchase with a smile that might double as a grimace, given the right circumstance.
]

...I may have miscalculated in that I can't use it all by myself.
monopolies: (This is my partner Gee Buttersnaps.)
[personal profile] monopolies
( text )

[ Because America is totally one of those people that stares intensely at his clock waiting for the hands to align on midnight of his birthday, the excited message is sent out at exactly 12am, July 4th. ]

Happy Birthday to me!! Congrats to myself for winning my independence and fighting my way up the world ladder to become a successful, autonomous nation (and the most industrious and rich to boot!)! Party tonight to celebrate my achievements and the achievements of all Americans in Wonderland because I wouldn't be anything without you guys! (Even though it is not my birthday at home the date here says July 4th so I'm going to celebrate it! Because it's the day that matters no matter what time has passed! Because FREEDOM!!!)

Everyone invited! (Even the English. Especially the English. Look what you're missing out on by being English and not American.)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




( action - nightish )

will there ever come a day where I don't insert a million links into things? no, probably not )

[[ Open post for either action or text! Both prose and brackets welcome for action comments, feel free to make open comments, party on dudes. ]]
imperfect_science: ([ Concerned ])
[personal profile] imperfect_science
[ The camera is turned on, and Carlos leans back in his computer chair with a heavy sigh. He looks tired, but determined, expression grave as he looks into the camera… one hand resting on the back of the pug with its legs on his lap and its paws on his chest, chewing away on part of his lab coat. Her name is Curie. She likes shoes and- tragically- lab coats.

But only the business-causal kind. His formal coat and outdoor coat have remained untouched. ]


Well, it seems as if that last disturbance in our routine has ended. For now anyway. And I’m sorry to say that despite rigorous testing of the puppies and the molecular makeup of Wonderland both, I learned... [ He pauses, the words themselves hard to even get out. ]

…absolutely nothing. Not about the loss of color, or the loss of powers, or even the dogs themselves. Was it our eyes that were affected, or the actual makeup of the world around us? Were the dogs a coincidence, or did they somehow trigger the change?

[ He glances down at Curie and quickly pulls a pen out of his breast pocket before it can get anywhere near her mouth. He’s already lost two lab coats and a perfectly good loafer since this all started. ] I have to admit, I’m not used to this. Even in Night Vale- that’s where I’m from, by the way, such an interesting town- even there, I made progress. We discovered new things all the time. More then my team could even keep up with at first! But I’ve been in Wonderland more than a month now, and despite all my research, I’m not making the same sort of headway. Not at all. There’s just nothing worse than a problem you can’t solve, don’t you think?

[ He sighs again and finally picks Curie up to put her down on the floor to join the other three dogs that have yet to disappear. He's not sure why some of the pups in Wonderland have stayed and some have not- another mystery unsolved. Maybe he shouldn't have named them. ]
unsullies: (there is calculation)
[personal profile] unsullies
[ There is no video feed when the device begins its broadcast. In fact, there isn't much but breathing and clicking for a stretch of time as the young woman on the other end turns it over, examining. ]

What magic is this, that I hear and see the voices and faces of others through this box? [ Enchanted metal, maybe. Magic was said to still exist in parts of the Free Cities, though the only magic she had seen in recent history was a dark, hateful blood magic. The girl on the audio feed sounds young, in her early teens, and though her voice is captured with confusion, there is a wearied strength behind it that extends beyond her years. ]

I needn't examine these grounds to know that I am no longer in the East. Still, I am slow to believe that this is the Westeros of which I've heard so much.

[ There is something very wrong about this place, she can tell. Some undercurrent of shadows under a guise of flowers and light. ]

I was traveling with a number of Dothraki--my khalasar--and a man called Jorah Mormont. Have any of them been taken captive here with me?

( ooc; Anyone who happens upon Daenerys in the gardens will find her looking like this. Minus the dragon, unfortunately. )
enchangement: (a shattered mind)
[personal profile] enchangement
[ one of the hallway devices comes on just as a girl with brown hair and eyes just a tad too wide looks away from it. it's hard to tell if she realizes it's on or not, just from her body language; she seems to be ignoring it. ]

I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls!


[ she moves down the hall with careful, measured steps before suddenly, a pirouette, suddenly, a spin. ]

I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,
The manifold, soft chimes,
That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,
Like some old poet’s rhymes.


You're not that soft, you know. Not even for chimes. More like a pealing cacophony, an orchestra in nearly 140 counteractive counterproductive musical parts. Give the flutes to the viola players, see how you like the sound.

It isn't night, and this isn't quiet, there's too many of you and not enough of me.

What was calculated in the past does not account for the solution in the present, and all the precipitates have changed.

Hello and hello again.

We're grounded in a child's fantasy all bright colors and mirrored surfaces... [ she pauses here, and peers at the nearest mirror, across the hall from the device, but her eyes are looking right at it in the reflection. ] Reflections and refractions. What makes you so clever, so new?

[ the device switches off there. anyone interested in running into the young ms. tam in person is more than welcome - even if you don't approach her, she's likely to approach you. ]
alwaysnext: (we're the useless generation)
[personal profile] alwaysnext
-nd he's probably that deranged killer. He'll have you bound in leather and stuck on his wall if he catches us. That's why I have to video it. It's like Paranormal Activity.

[ The feed opens on an artificially grainy, static-cam view of the third floor. And America, framed in an eye-bleeding progression of Dutch angles. The culprit is his tiny hipster boyfriend, who thinks he’s Jean Cocteau and whispers like they’re both attending a golf tournament. In the dead of night, in their pajamas.

Luke doesn’t intend to broadcast their schoolboy harassment detective work to everyone, but like in so many other things, Wonderland doesn’t give a fuck.
]

Dare you to knock.

I will! I’m just-- I’m preparin’.

[ And by preparing, America means bullshitting. Standing outside a perfectly ordinary door on the third floor in his onesie, frowning and juggling a variety of items in his arms. Luke may not approve of guns, but no one said anything about aerosol cans and lighters to make a prison-quality flamethrower. Yes this is exactly the sort of humane defense weaponry an unstable, recently traumatized (further) immortal should be armed with. ]

and he would've gotten away with it, if it weren't for these-. )
oikodomae: (i'm done! º Ⓤ)
[personal profile] oikodomae
ACTION || CLOSED TO CASTMATES
cut for gore )


VIDEO || OPEN TO ALL
[ when the video comes up, it's of a blonde. set-jaw, dark eyes. it's almost as if a storm is raging somewhere in there, a sort of crackle of lightning, of thunder. when she speaks, it's with purpose, straight through that frown.

maybe then no one will notice just how pale she is. ]


When people die here, they come back to life. [ stating facts through a thick swallow. she can do this. ] How long does it take? Where do they show up? It- it does happen, right?

[ no, no no- that's too close. her voice is almost shaking. her stomach clenches and that need to figure this out, to figure it out as soon as possible drives her forward. ]

Someone's murdering people here. Whoever it is killed my friend and put her on a spit, on antlers, in a fireplace on the first floor. Her name's Clarisse. Whoever saw her last, contact me. This happened sometime in the last day. As for the murderer- [ and this is where she gets darker, her eyes and her look and everything about her. for most people, there's a clear line between anger and absolute rage, and annabeth has just about crossed it. ]

Whoever you are, you think you're smart. That you won't be caught. You're wrong. [ there some strange surge of confidence in her, here. something that tells her she's speaking right to whoever did this, and not the rest of the network. not every single person in wonderland. ] I will find you, and you'll regret laying a hand on her, on anyone.

[ and then it cuts. ]

TEXT || PERCY&RACHEL
PERCY: clarisse is dead
i don't know how long
she should come back to life
wonderland doesn't let people stay dead
she'll be back soon and when she does she's not going to be happy


i'm going to find out who did this



RACHEL did you see this?
glumshoe: what a thing to talk about when you graduate right (Default)
[personal profile] glumshoe
[ Whatever it is about Wonderland's wonderful devices that allows them to interpret a hard drop as an input to start a feed, it needs to be fixed. The angle is definitely from an elevated spot in a simple, basically furnished bathroom, a good quarter of the screen obscured by a blurry green fold of fabric just where the device has nearly wriggled free of a jacket pocket. The lion's share of the activity piped out isn't even Will's, who's busy disentangling himself from the wet cling of a tee recently christened with nightmare sweat, which is of interest to the pair of new four legged companions scrabbling up his legs for a sniff. Not so interested is the piglet, who, barred from its favorite activity of sitting on this human's feet until food appears, snuffles indignantly around the all too hyper scatter of paws and instead wanders behind the toilet for a nice lay down on a length of gingham Will set there after noticing its odd fondness for the spot.

Funny thing about the closets: you can think of something and it may or may not materialize how you expect it. Will thought he learned it when he tried and failed to recreate one of his canine brood from back home and felt it sit heavy in his ribcage the rest of the day, but it can't get much simpler than thinking "dog" at it and seeing what happens. By some miracle the request is interpreted correctly, and serendipity makes Will suddenly the proud caretaker of a boxer mystery mix and a french bulldog. Predictably, the other shoe drops.

Flinging the tee into a corner, Will, for once, isn't the one that stinks far too much of - let's just call it nature. The piglet had the decency to wander into his possession already potty trained, somehow; the same can't be said of the dogs, having greeted their new owner with presents soaking the bottom half of the sheets while he's got the top half covered.
]

All right, over here. Up and in, fellas. Tsst. [ He indicates the bathtub, which has grown to accommodate a larger man than he or two smaller, furry bodies. Results at issuing commands to untrained dogs may vary. ] You made the mess, I'm here to clean it up, guys, come on.



((The hour is very early or very late, depending on sleep schedules, and anyone wishing to drop by the room might... not... want to. Kind residents wishing to inform Will that Wonderland knows what his boxers look like may wish to inform him of this fact at a distance. Unkind residents can snicker gently at his dire need to hit a gym. ))
thepointisdolphins: (happy doomsday)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
waking up is the hardest thing to do )

[The voice on the network is Crowley's, but he sounds...off today. His voice trembles on occasion.]

Listen, Aziraphale--he isn't Aziraphale. He's been replaced by his Mirror. If you see him, don't--don't even talk to him. Just run.

Is there a way to the Mirror side? There must be, right? I need to get the angel back.

[video]

Apr. 29th, 2014 11:32 pm
superagent: (pic#7737956)
[personal profile] superagent
[ He's unsure of the network, but in the end, it seems like the smartest way to get what he wants. It's not the most subtle way to communicate, but he doesn't think this situation calls for subtlety and if he's been pulled into this place, there's no telling who else might be here. ]

This is Agent Phil Coulson.

[ Still an agent, even without SHIELD, he can't quite drop that part of himself. If SHIELD is just his team, then so be it. They're still SHIELD. ]

I'm looking for whoever's in charge here or any information anyone can give me that isn't in this handy pamphlet.

[ He pauses, looking around. ]

Or my team. I'm looking for my team.

[video]

Apr. 29th, 2014 02:36 pm
stillplaying: ([sad] self-loathing)
[personal profile] stillplaying
[She sits in the dark of the bedroom she claimed, hidden within the closet and staring at the device for minutes - even if it's felt so much longer. Her back sits straight against the wall, knees curled to her chest. Maybe she's regressing. All the work and progress Dr. Aurelian had made - however little of it - slowly drifting away. She's in a game again. Trapped and at the will of others.

All she wants to do is stay out of sight. Fall asleep and wake up back home in Panem, back where she belongs. Or, at least, in a place she belongs more so than here. What she'd give for this to be not real. For Haymitch to be the one with the addled memory for once.

But he's not and she left the door open to her bedrom without thinking. People could wander in if they wanted. She's defenseless, having gone straight into hiding as opposed to finding a place to obtain weapons. That'll come later.

Maybe.

What's important now is that she’s in a game. A game, apparently, that she's been in before. Where people might know her, might have some memory of a girl she can't remember. Her talk with Haymitch had made that much clear. Maybe she should seek out allies. But what person in their right mind would want to know her? Why would anyone willingly trust someone who... someone who couldn't even protect those she loved most.

Finally, she clears her throat. Her grey eyes look at the screen, haunted. The left corner of her lip twitches but there’s no actual smile on her face. Smiles haven’t come easy in a long, long time.]


My name is Katniss Everdeen. I’ve been told that I’ve been here before but I don’t remember. I don’t... [She doesn’t want to remember. Doesn’t ever want to have to play that game that Peeta does every single day. Real or not real. How can she tell? Is this real or is it something else entirely? She still doesn’t know.] I don’t want to be here.

[But who does? With the exception of the Careers, did any of the tributes ever really want to enter the arena? She knows the answer to that, knows it as well as she knows her own name. She’s messing this up.

But that comes as no surprise to her. She doubts it comes to a surprise to anyone.]


I just want to hunt and- Be left alone. You don’t need to get to know me. You don't want to. Trust me on that. [Because all she's ever done was hurt those that she loved. Or even liked just remotely. It's too dangerous for anyone to be around her. No longer is she solely just unlikable, but she's become too much of a nuisance for any Gamekeeper in their right mind not to want to control.] I'm not worth it. It'd be best for everyone if you see me to just stay away. Just forget that I ever came back.
assembles: talking, earnest, determined, costume (let's be a team)
[personal profile] assembles
[When the video feed starts up, it shows a man seated at a desk in a rather nondescript room. Not much can be seen behind him beyond a bed and closet. Much more noteworthy is his face, which has a few bruises and a line of stitches extending outward from the corner of his mouth.

Despite that, he has a bright, open look on his face, though the fact that he's sitting up straight and looking head-on at his phone's camera makes it clear that he means business.]


So... had a few days to take everything in, read what information I could find. It's been helpful, it really has. [A lot of the work and investigation had already been done for him, though that hasn't prevented Steve from doing his own exploration.]

Just a few questions, if anyone can help. [And so far, most everyone has been helpful.] I can only assume there's some escape effort that's been put together here. A group of like-minded people, working together to get everyone home. I'd like to be a part of that. [It might seem overly transparent to ask about something like that over a network like this, but Steve has no interest in secrecy, especially not after everything that he's been through.]

Secondly, I've heard a lot about people being from different worlds. I'm trying to get an idea of how many we're dealing with. [He knows about Asgard and has heard vaguely of the Nine Realms, but beyond that he's clueless. He needs to determine the scope of this operation.]

Oh, and the name's Steve Rogers. I'll do whatever I can to get us all out of here. [It's meant mainly as a test to see if anyone here is going to recognize him, or if he actually has some manner of anonymity in this place.

With that said, he offers a small smile and then ends the feed.]
thepointisdolphins: (evil is just a name for my side)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley seems almost jovial today! Yeah, sunshine and rainbows and puppies and shit! Except there's something quite a bit forced and false about it. If the rather unsettling grin didn't convince you of that much, what he actually has to say will clinch it.]

Humans. Really, what a joy you all are. Such clever, creative, busy little bees, always thinking up such interesting little ways to harm and kill each other. I've thought it for years now, but you lot don't need any help from my kind at all, do you? You've got everything under control. What was it Shakespeare said? "Hell is empty and all the devils are here." And him all of three hundred years ago.

I suppose if Wonderland is meant to be a sample of general humanity, it's no wonder that there are a couple of truly horrendous examples here. Oh, I won't name names. I don't have names to name. Not yet.

[The smile completely disappears and he leans closer to the camera. And for a moment, the Crowley that Wonderland knows, all snark and banter, is gone. His face is expressionless and the sunglasses look less douchey and more like empty black pits. There's a very faint reddish glow behind them. Just for a moment, you could believe that there really is an actual demon in there, full of Old Testament wrath.]

But you know who you are, and you know what you did. I do hope we have a chance to meet one of these days--I'd love to shake your hand. People have lots of extra chances in Wonderland, but even in this place, one way or another, everyone pays the piper eventually. At least I intend to make sure of it.

[And then the moment is gone and the smile is back in place, completely false.]

Thank you for your time.

[Click.]
lightgunhustler: (158)
[personal profile] lightgunhustler
[Jo seems to be having a bit of trouble keeping the camera steady, probably because of the Jack Russell terrier in her lap that just can't seem to keep still, though she has an arm loosely around his middle. The dog appears to be out of sorts, and Jo herself looks worried, lips pressed together into a thin line. It's not unusual to see her looking a little low these days, but anxious is another thing altogether.]

So this little guy sought me out today looking to get fed.

[She turns the camera to give folks a clear shot of Jormy's face, though he protests with a whimper and turns his head away almost immediately. Still, for anyone who knew Gabriel well, he probably seems familiar. She sighs, facing the camera herself once more.

Gabriel wouldn't just leave Jormy on his own to go hungry. He was attached, to say the least.]


I tried getting in touch with Gabriel, but he's not answering his phone, or, uh-- [She winces. It sounds wrong to say this, considering Gabriel had gone pagan and didn't care much for the traditional angel shtick, but:] Or prayers. Angel radio, whatever you want to call it.

Anyone else seen him around? I don't want to assume the worst, and if he's popped out it could just be temporary, but it would be good to know if Jormy is just visiting or needs a place to stay for a little while.

[More than that, she and Gabriel were friends. Good friends. He was the best almost-guardian angel a bartender could ask for.]

Private Text to Dean Winchester )

Private Text to Tom Hanniger )
avoirfaim: will what the fuck have you heard of first aid (when god is gone and the devil takes hol)
[personal profile] avoirfaim
[ Hannibal does not make himself known on the network right away. He instead explores, reading what he can and figuring out exactly where he is. Wonderland. He's not above believing in what was once thought impossible, so long all the evidence fits. God works in mysterious, cruel ways after all, and Hannibal takes it in stride. He takes a day to officially announce his arrival. Making a move on the board without knowing what game you’re playing is be naive at best, but more likely just plain stupid. His device is comfortable enough in his hand, like the familiar shape of his ipad, and he’s already scrolled through, until he found he understood the situation well enough. Only then, after learning what he could and checking his person suit in the mirror does he show himself. It’s a video, and Hannibal is the model of concerned professionalism. ]

Good evening, my name is Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and it seems that I’m what you might call a new arrival. I’ve combed through the archives and believe that I have a good understanding of the situation at hand. While I do find it terribly rude that I have been torn from my home without the courtesy of an invitation, one can hardly expect such a formality from any higher power.

[ Not that he considers himself to be lesser in any way, but it’s curious, and he keeps the thought to himself, as he does so many others. He then pauses for a moment with his tongue to the roof of his mouth, choosing his words, before continuing. ]

It seems that I’m not alone in being pulled from my world into this one, so I find myself somewhat obligated by my profession to provide you all with a warning. There is a man here now, another new arrival, by the name of Will Graham. While I do consider him to be a friend and a good man, he has a history of mental instability and is currently on trial for multiple murders. I would suggest exercising caution in his presence and referring to me should you have any questions or concerns.

[Do you see that waters of being genuinely concerned in his eyes? Good. ]
glumshoe: what a thing to talk about when you graduate right (Default)
[personal profile] glumshoe
[ Transitioning from one kind of prison to another shouldn't be this pat, but Will Graham is taking it as in stride as any recently sane person. The device Wonderland affords its "guests" isn't entirely dissimilar to a few of the smart phones or tablets back home, leaving it a question of what would drive him to invite possibly scores of people to bother him. Several days of observing others spontaneously turn into children, swap genders, and otherwise defy natural law really hammer in that he's stuck in Oz and he's no Dorothy that'll be going home soon.

The drab jumpsuit he arrived in has been traded for the comfortable plaid he's always favored, feeling a strange disconnect from himself while shrugging it on. Will manages to make it to the docks without accost or transformation, turning on the feed without much ceremony. Wonderland will see someone who's definitely lost more than a few days of sleep, altogether a little too rumpled to be called put-together, though his eyes are clear and lucid.
]

Uhm, hello. My name is Will Graham. I'm what you'd call a new arrival, though I've gathered that there's been a version of me here before. I can't account for that. I am - [ He pauses, a bit of a rueful edge sharpening the set of his mouth. ] - I have worked with the FBI as a teacher and criminal profiler. Some of you might be familiar.

Now that I've spent some time confirming that this is, in fact, not a delusion or fever dream in the most literal sense, I'm at something of a loss.

[ One hand comes into view and scrubs the side of his face, the feed jostling and listing to the side as he looks away. It's not eye contact but he feels the weight of eyes pressing on him all the same. He should have just figured out how to broadcast his voice. ]

It's definitely unusual, I'm just not so certain it's cruel, depending on what it is you're leaving behind. Clearly anyone can be taken for any reason, so the punishment doesn't necessarily fit the crime. No crime is needed at all, which sounds like the U.S. justice system in a nutshell besides. Not that I want to attribute this trip to "Wonderland" to it, however, as that would imply it had imagination.

[ If it sounds like he's speaking from experience, that's because he is. ]

If there's some documentation where I can get up to speed, I'd be grateful for the direction granted I don't get turned into a toad on the way. Aside from that, if anyone runs into a well-dressed man, middle aged, goes by the name Hannibal Lecter - [ Don't trust him. He goes still, rewording himself. ] - tell him I'm looking for him.
monopolies: (pic#7571680)
[personal profile] monopolies
[ There is no mistaking the face that's pouting on screen, even if the whining voice is higher and all the hard muscles and square features have been rounded into curves. It's no surprise that America wandered into the gazebo. Nor is it a surprise that the reason he's so distressed isn't due to his sudden physical changes--the way he sees it, half his population is female anyway--but that he made the horrible mistake of trying to put on a hoop skirt and is now stuck in his bedroom doorway. ]

Ugh! No wonder these're going outta fashion! Knew I should've stuck with a cycling outfit. Finally get the hips and bust to fill out a pretty dress and I'm foiled by steel boning.

[ All the huffing is partly due to the fact that he's also in a corset that's laced halfway up. Being half-dressed in Victorian fashion is almost the same as being fully dressed in the 20th century, so with bare shoulders and exceptionally frilly bloomers under the steel he's basically looking like the world's worst burlesque dancer. ]

I kept hearing Jackson squawking so I just needed to let him in and now I'm-- aw fuck it. [ And then he holds his mobile in his mouth so that he can rip the fucking steel apart with his bare hands. While treated to a lovely view of his teeth and slobber, metal groans as it bends and bolts pop as he ruins his dress. Finally he takes it out and wipes off the drool. ]

There! Unstuck! Not the pretty debut I was hopin' to make, but I'm also needing some help lacing up. Any ladies here familiar with that? 'Cause this one's goin' up the back and I can't reach all the way. Or ladies in general. Need some help flaunting how pretty I am before I throw the boy clothes back on.

[ Is that improper? He doesn't give a shit. ]

I } text

Mar. 17th, 2014 12:49 am
unhand: (let's talk about stuff)
[personal profile] unhand
[It’s taken Hook a while to type out the message. What business do letters have being in some strange, nonsensical order? What sort of alphabet goes from Q to M instead of A to Z? It’s bloody confusing, but he’s managed, at last, to type out his message on the automatic writing mechanism he found in his pocket. It seems to have some sort of magical ability to show images and produce sounds too, but he has yet to figure those ones out.

The message is short and a bit stilted. He’s not used to having to hunt so hard for each letter, and finding advanced punctuation or capital letters is beyond him. But it gets the point across.]


to whom it may concern

ive found myself on strange shores and could use information should it be available. the name is captain hook. im supposed to be in new york. does anyone know how to get there? i need to find emma swan. it is very important.

sincerely,
hook
rues: ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ sᴛᴇᴀʟ (Default)
[personal profile] rues
[ alright, let's get one thing straight here: clarisse hates mazes. so, as luck would have it, she finds herself surrounded by bright green shrubbery in every direction and she is not happy about it. she doesn't even bother asking why she's here. she just gets straight to business and the feed roars to life. kind of literally, actually. the daughter of the war god is someone to be feared when she's angry and she's not going to take no for an answer on this one. ]

Alright, listen up, punks. I don't know where I am, nor do I care. But someone thought it'd be funny to stick me in this godsforsaken maze.

[ a beat. ]

Yeah. Well, guess what? I'm not laughing. And if someone doesn't get me out of here, I start trimming hedges and busting the head of whoever's bright idea this was. Got it?

[ she holds up her sword. her very, very lethal sword. she may not have her spear anymore, but she's just as good with a sword. and she knows she can't get out without help so this is her, er, "subtle" way of asking for backup. just don't expect her to thank you for it. ]

See this? You don't want me to have to use it.

[ she's about to cut the feed, when something else occurs to her. ]

Oh, and if anyone's seen a guy named Chris Rodriguez, you sure as hell better tell me or it's your head next.
teamug: (Default)
[personal profile] teamug
[She's been here for a few hours now, and really isn't sure what to make of anything. She's tried to do the exploring thing, and now feels as good of a time as any to do the talking over the communicator to people. When she pops up on screen, she's awkwardly smiling, and looks off to the left and to the right before speaking. Oh, this just feels weird.]

Is it on? Hello? [She purses her lips together, and eventually decides that yes it is, and gives a firm nod of her head. Her smile becomes a little more warm at that point, and she flips a hand up in a wave.]

This is all real, isn't it? Really, actually real. [Some of the things that have happened recently, she's a bit unsure about all of that.] Right then, I'll take this over being dead any day. But -

[A pause, and then she's left frowning.]

I'm looking for someone, thought that maybe he might be here. Answers to Doctor. Not a doctor. The Doctor. Dunno why he insists on being particular about that, but now he's got me doing it too. [Which is just great, really.]

He's easy to pick out of a crowd, what with the tweed and bow tie -

[Oh wait. Her Doctor might not be wearing those anymore. New face, new man, new style. She frowns deeply, looking pained, and gulps down her emotions as she forces herself to continue talking.]

And the inability to stay out of trouble. Also the eyebrows. They look a bit like white caterpillars. Doubt he's shown his face, but if he has, I could really use his help in getting out of here. I've been to plenty of topsy turvy places here lately. Not really looking to stay in this one long term.

[ooc: I wasn't sure if the event ended at midnight on the third or on the fourth, so please think of this as going up after the event's over! Sorry for any confusion.]

( video )

Mar. 1st, 2014 04:54 pm
monopolies: It's Percy Jackson, Shawn. (Percy Dunn the lightning thief!)
[personal profile] monopolies
UNNEEDED EXPOSITION ABOUT HIS UPDATE BLAH BLAH )

[ Finally everything is set up just the way he wants it. Camera placed just behind the closed doors of the entrance wall, it's propped up to frame the hall in such a way that it looks like just any normal day in Wonderland. The real trick is turning it on at just the right moment. He decides to turn it on from behind so the video doesn't capture his initial appearance. Slipping away as quietly as possible, the video just captures a few silent seconds of the doors.

Which then BURST OPEN IN AN EXPLOSION OF SHRAPNEL AND FIRE. USA USA USA.

The smoke clears and, surprise surprise, guess who's standing at the center with arms cross and cocky grin in place? No Crowley, that's for fucking sure, like he'd be capable of anything this epic. For those who knew him the changes are small and subtle, probably nothing to catch amidst the chaos. A taller stature, unhindered by painful wounds, a face that's still young but no longer burdened by self-consciousness and undercurrents of fear.

In the split-second he opens his mouth, just before he speaks you might be expecting something like YOUR HERO HAS RETURNED. But no.
]

WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY RAPTORS?

[ Good news: he's even more of a selfish shithead than before. Bad news: that was the good news.

God help you all.

and now a million years later do I add an obligatory nsfw warning?? don't read my threads if you value your time and integrity
]
itsahotone: (cold to the core)
[personal profile] itsahotone
[Santana is not her usual bright and sunny* self.

*Wherein bright and sunny means snarky and superior.

No, this time around she looks very much like what she is underneath all the layers: a shell-shocked, scared eighteen year old girl. The other times she's died--it wasn't like this. And now that she's not bleeding to death, she's had the time to Put Things Together.]


...Is it over yet?

[She needs to see Brittany.]
ahousedivided: nightmare! (See you in my recurring Hunger Games)
[personal profile] ahousedivided
not ic cut; cut for gore )


[ And if you thought it would end there, you clearly have not been around America long enough. Not five minutes later a text appears on the network. ]

THEY GOT AWAY IM SO MAD HE TOOK MY HEAD DO U KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO TYPE WITHOUT A HEAD THOSE WERE CUSTOM FRAMES I WILL GET A NEW HEAD BUT THOSE GLASSES ARE IRREPLACEABLE NOW WHEN I HAVE EYES AGAIN I WONT BE ABLE TO SEE WITH THEM BECAUSE MY GLASSES WILL BE RUINED AND I DONT KNOW MY PRESCRIPTION

HE RUINED MY VALENTINE PLANS AND KILLED MY FRIEND AND I HAD THIS NICE CARD FOR MY SWEETHEART AND HE SHOVED IT IN MY CHEST BECAUSE IT WAS HEART SHAPED HA HA VERY FUNNY NOW ALL THE LACE IS COVERED IN BLOOD

>:(

>:(

I MUST MAKE FACES OF RAGE WITH TEXT BECAUSE I HAVE NO FACE TO FROWN WITH IF ONLY I HAD MY GUN I WOULDVE SHOT HIM HE IS A SLIPPERY FUCKER IM GONNA KILL HIM

VENGEANCE >:(


[ ooc: a small note that I'll be gone for the weekend to Katsucon so tags may not happen between Friday and Sunday, but I'll be right back on board once the con is over! ]
selfrespecting: (ready)
[personal profile] selfrespecting
[The first day Martha had spent confirming that her worst fears were true, that this event is because of her. Waking up dizzy had been the first sign, but then the statues had started to appear outside of the building, still and silent and watching.

She doesn't know what the Weeping Angels will be capable of here in Wonderland, but there's no question that it won't be good. She does some patrolling, but without one of those -- those screwdrivers to take readings, there's no way to predict what they'll do.

The second day is when she observes them making their stuttered way toward the mansion, officially in attack mode, and that's when she decides that she needs to make an announcement.

She's standing at a window when she makes the broadcast, her gaze mainly turned away from the screen. She's barely even taking the risk of looking directly at her mobile's camera.]


I'm sure you've all seen the statues by now. This event is from my world. [She isn't scared to admit that.] They're called the Weeping Angels, and they're a very dangerous alien race. You cannot take your eyes off of them or they'll be able to come after you, quicker than you could ever imagine.

[She shifts the communicator around to be in front of her, so that she can be looking at the screen and out the window at the same time.] You can't even blink, or they'll get to you. We have strength in numbers here -- if we have at least one person watching them at all times, we'll be fine.

Back home, these things would send people into the past and then feed off of their unlived futures, but here? There's no telling, I'm sorry. But you have to be careful, all of you. If anyone finds out what they're capable of, let me know. I'll be on the move to help as much as I can.

[That's about all the warning she can give, but she finishes with:] Remember, don't blink.


[OOC: Martha will be making her way around the mansion and the grounds from here on out, so feel free to run into her wherever!]
ahousedivided: (pic#7018814)
[personal profile] ahousedivided
[ When the video turns on to face only a ceiling, jarring slightly as though it's being pushed around on the floor, you may be thinking "oh it's just another technologically incompetent broadcast." True. But the main reason is that it's really hard to operate a touch-screen tablet with no body, no opposable thumbs, and one inch legs. ]

This on?

[ Even with the echoing of hollow armor it is no guess who this obnoxious voice belongs to. Except it's not a grinning blond idiot that peers down. It's a fucking metal terrier. Who makes full-body armor for Scottie dogs? Who painstakingly crafts their cute little whiskers out of metal? Why is it steampunk? So many questions but the most important one no one should be asking is "why America." We all know why. His life is an absurdist reality and now he's a metal suit of dog armor. ]

For the record, I ain't actually a dog under all this. What a jip! I don't get a super sniffer or acute hearing and this thing's mouth don't even open so I can't even herd things! Well, at least I can still see colors.

[ He noses the tablet a few times, trying to get it into position and failing. ]

Can someone come open my door? I don't got no thumbs and my legs are so short. I can't even jump on the bed. Oh, but I can wag my tail! Can't show ya though 'cause I'm havin' trouble propping up my devices.

[ Since he can't turn off the video, he just leaves it recording. Metal clangs while he trots around testing out the legs.

And then he starts experimenting with barking. It's really embarrassing actually. Well, for you, not for him, America actually doesn't think this is strange at all. Worst of all you don't even have to imagine it because he actually does this anyway and he's not even ashamed.
]
selfrespecting: (honest)
[personal profile] selfrespecting
[Somewhere around mid-morning, Martha's face shows up on the network. She's seated at the desk in her room and while she has an air of business about her, she starts off with a smile.]

Hello, everyone. I had a few things I wanted to ask you all about. [She draws a hand through her hair.]

First of all, I was wondering about memory. We all know that it's a large part of why we're here, so I wanted to know what your experience was with losing memories. I don't mean like when someone leaves and comes back and remembers nothing, but... less noticeable things. Gaps, things that don't quite make sense... [Martha's guess is that there's a more subtle kind of memory siphoning going on here, and she'd like to know more about it.]

Or if you have any experience with selling a memory to a vendor, that would count too. [She knows a certain someone who would fit into that category, but there may be others too.]

The second thing is... [She lets out a sigh and straightens in her seat.]

I know we don't have much in the way of medical professionals around here these days, but with the jabberwocky in our future, I'm going to need all the help I can get. [She had Peter for a short while, but he's gone now, which means she's essentially been running the clinic on her own.]

If you have any experience or if you're willing to learn some basic first aid, then I'll do my best to teach you. I can't exactly be choosy with who I take on as help right now, so let me know if you're interested.

[This does not mean that America should volunteer, however. Martha's hoping he's too busy feeling sorry for himself to notice this. Fingers crossed.] And that's all for now. Thank you, everyone. [She reaches forward and the feed cuts off.]

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