analogkvetching: (hurt)
[personal profile] analogkvetching
[No matter where he goes, it keeps happening. It had begun yesterday morning. He had sat down with a modest breakfast when the video feeds started trickling in. It seemed the other mansion residents were experiencing disturbances in their senses that others were not. Everything looked and sounded normal to him, and he'd started on the food with a mild vexation. It stopped being mild when what should have been a warm crispy piece of toast felt more like a rubbery slab of raw meat in his mouth, and he dropped it with a surpised "GACK" sound.

He'd retreated from the kitchen, and everything he touched that day including his possessions felt increasingly unlike itself. He'd spent the night laid stiffly on the sticky, veiny floor of his room with his arms crossed tightly on his chest.

He finally rose the next day (he hadn't slept) when he could have sworn he could feel the blood coursing through the floor-veins under his back, and felt like he was going to be sick. Almost impulsively, he headed for the shower. The tile was sparkly and the water clear, but he recoiled from it immediately... not even the water was safe. It was thick, tacky, and body temperature regardless of how he set the taps. Blood.

He now roamed the halls with a desperate pace, forcing himself to start an audio feed on the slick, pulsing device.]

I cant. Touch. Anything. Is anyone else having this problem?

[Maybe... maybe he didn't have to touch anything. He tries sliding his hands into his gloves like many, many times before. Slimy, a disturbing soft sort of grit, uncomfortably warm, hard points they feel exactly like mouths]


[It's all he can do not to hyperventilate as he wrings and flaps his hands frantically, the gloves flinging away haphazardly]
speaksforthetrees: (Fuck is this?)
[personal profile] speaksforthetrees
[The Lorax shows up on screen, face clearly one of disgust.]

Uh, so. I know you folks don't usually eat truffula fruit, as a rule, but...

I just wondered if anybody's noticed food from the closets tasting like. Um. The worst thing you've ever tasted? Maybe like it's rotten?

I mean, it wouldn't be the first time we had an event like that, but uh.

[He holds the fruit up.]

It looks fine! It smells fine, too. So why does it taste so bad?
whatseparates: (it's definitely something)
[personal profile] whatseparates
[Jack is lying on his back in the grass outside the Mansion, about ten yards from the wall, and facing it, watching the sky, left hand upraised. It's a strange posture, considering he's right out in the open where the falling creme cakes can get him.

But then it becomes clear: something vaguely resembling a twinkie plunges toward him with the velocity of a small rocket, and with a mere flick of his fingers, it's stopped, hovering in the air above his face. With another flick, it shoots off horizontally, and--splat!--hits the side of the Mansion.

He sits up slightly to survey his handiwork, and the communicator he's had resting on his stomach (just in case someone should call, because he's so big on conversation and all) moves with him, panning to a view of the wall. It's absolutely plastered with creme cakes. Jack has been doing this all day.

He lays back down just in time to catch the next creme cake.]
somethinglost: (She is wound like an angry watch)
[personal profile] somethinglost
[Kirigiri hasn't noticed anything weird yet today, but she's also been inside, away from the windows up until now. Now, though, it is time to go observe the vendors and what they have to offer and take a million notes, so she heads outside.

She has enough time to get a few steps outside and turn on a video feed. She's got her mouth open to ask a question when something falling out of the sky bounces off of her head. Surprised, she looks at the ground to see what it is.

A slight frown crosses her face, but before she can do or say anything else, cups and packages of instant ramen start to pelt her from the sky. They are hitting her so frequently that she really doesn't have time to run away from them. She brings up her arms to shield her head (although they aren't really hitting her hard enough to do anything but be annoying), and in the process drops her device. It's quickly buried under cheap, packaged carbohydrates.

After precisely fifteen minutes and seven seconds, the million fungoes style ramen barrage ends, leaving Kirigiri standing on the lawn with a hill of ramen piled up to her waist. She stands and fumes for a couple of minutes before she starts digging herself out. Eventually, her device comes free of the pile and lands in the grass, capturing this process upside down.]
brass_balls: (ok but did you build her like a bathtub)
[personal profile] brass_balls
[ Without preamble, except for maybe the clearing of a throat, a rough old cockney voice starts to speak over the network. ]

Seems I've stumbled into a wing of Rapture I don't recognise. [ He sounds mildly perturbed by this fact, but shrugs it off. ] Thought by now I knew every inch of the girl, but I suppose them building crews've outpaced me at last.

[ Bill, that's not an audio diary you're talking into. Bill, no, Bill you cut that out right now. ]

Important part is, I'm lost. In Rapture! [ Low chuckle. That's not a sentence he thought he'd find himself saying. ] Still, I reckon I'll run into someone who knows their way sooner or later. And if it's whoever owns the place, I'll buy him a pint to make up for tresspassin'.

[ Would somebody kindly tell Bill that he's speaking live over the whole network? Or maybe you want to run into him in person. In that case he's in the mansion's basement, poking around for an exit, and smoking a cigarette that smells of fish. ]
sisterutopia: (We make a great team!)
[personal profile] sisterutopia
[The video switches on, and Eleanor's face fills it for a moment. There's a sputtering, buzzing sort of sound that can be heard droning in the background for the rest of the message.]

-on? Oh, there we go! Excellent! Mr. Journal MK III testing will now begin.

[She sits back, and the camera buzzes up into the air to eye-level. Instead of her diving suit, Eleanor seems to have donned a T-shirt and some overalls appropriate for the task at hand. Her expression is one of tentative excitement as she looks around the camera, double checking to make sure the device is working properly.]

You look stable enough... Okay, let's get a good shot in the mirror...

[She reaches out and turns the camera around toward the mirror on the wall, uncovered for this particular achievement. Once it's in the shot, the camera reveals that it's now roughly hooked into place on the front of a flying boat motor. The engine sputters a couple of times, but the view stays relatively level.]

Okay, the gyros look like they're doing their job... Thank you, Father. I should probably test the pathfinding next? Oooh, dear, everything's a bit more oily than I expected. Maybe I should have waited for the bathroom to stop spewing green toxins before I started on this... Wh-? H-Hey! Come back!

[While Eleanor was talking, the camera has been wandering around her room, catching glimpses of strewn comic books and stuffed animals and lots and lots of spare parts, even a Thneed hanging over top of Eleanor's octopus tank like a small hammock.

And then it's out the door, and Eleanor's footsteps can be heard in pursuit until there's the sound of a loud bang, like a trap door springing open, followed by a surprised yelp, a poof of smoke, and a loud thump as something hits the ground behind the camera. A startled Eleanor can be heard breathing quickly, but the camera doesn't stop moving, and eventually turns itself off, and isn't turned on until a while later.

[OOC: Video/audio/text messages will be responded to, just not immediately (because she still has to catch the damn thing).]
speaksforthetrees: (I am disappoint son)
[personal profile] speaksforthetrees
[The longer he stands out there, the more it breaks his heart. This is just like back home. They're even losing their food supply, just like the animals.

He can hardly take it.

The Lorax tightens his gas mask straps. The design is too big for him, but he's making due. He'll just sit himself down on this hillside and...

Sigh. He doesn't know what he can do.

Oh, wait-- he did promise Chihiro he'd message that Touko girl. Might as well do it now.]

[Private video to Touko] )


Jan. 30th, 2013 11:12 pm
thneedifestdestiny: No One Knows I'm Gone - Tom Waits (Today the name of Thneed is known)
[personal profile] thneedifestdestiny
[When the camera first turns on, the Once-ler seems...maybe a little sad? The last couple of events have been hard on him. First he turned into some highly symbolic bird and killed a possible serial killer some guy. And then, this past event, he got himself killed for being greedy curiously following a path of gold. How was HE supposed to know someone would kill him?

But, he's not someone to mope around! The best way to get himself feeling better is to get right back on track so he settles in front of the...say, was that little red light always blinking? Hm. Oh, well. He settles himself in front of the camera, surrounded by his remaining stock of Thneeds. There's about 23 of them, in various pastel colors - yellow, orange, pink, red, and purple, and they all look like sweaters with an extra pair of sleeve sewn together. The Once-ler himself is wearing a pink one as a scarf.

Hello, my fellow kidnappees! Those last few events have been such downers, haven't they? Good thing your very good friend The Once-ler is here to brighten your day with my marvelous invention - the Thneed!

[He holds one up and it looks...impressive? The Once-ler can sense the doubt in the viewers though, so he pulls it back.]

Ah, but I remember the last time. So few people had faith in my wonderful creation! People "gawked" at the prospect of a thing that could do anything! A thing that all of you need!

So, I'm running a special promotion, this week only, for potential new customers! If any of you naysayers can come up with a thing that the Thneed can't do, I'll let you have your first one on the house! That's right, I'm so confident that my glorious Thneed can be anything you need that I'll give you one for free if you can prove me wrong!

[He laughs, probably a little too confidently. This is going to be a disaster.]

Well? Any takers?
libraritology: (Precisely so.)
[personal profile] libraritology
[Far below Wonderland's rolling hills and questionable forests lies a complex, cavernous maze that put the one in the gardens to shame - a veritable labyrinth of natural passages and crevices, pools and underwater tunnels. A subterranean system that has yet to be properly explored and documented.

Behold, then, Wonderland's very own intrepid explorer and wannabe archaeologist!

Evelyn has set up something of an encampment site a little ways from the basement steps into the caves. A steady drip...drip...drip in the background accompanies the brushing sounds of her tools on stone, and she very excitedly picks up some of her samples before taking them back to a lantern-lit table. She switches on her communicator.

I've discovered something really quite remarkable, it- the geological strata here is a complex amalgamation of impossible stones and rock formations, many of which should be separated geographically by thousands of miles, much like the plants above ground, but there are veins of pyrope garnet right next to limestone stalagmites, enormous calcium deposits, and chalk beds, of all things!

[Physically impossible, by all accounts. Next thing you know there will be dwarves mining for precious gems down here.]

I'm not certain if anyone else has made findings regarding the cave system, but if you have, please let me know; I'd very much like to share notes.
whatseparates: (cut your teeth)
[personal profile] whatseparates
[So the last thing that happened to Jack was turning into a horrible foggy moth monster and attacking what few acquaintances he's managed to maintain--and that was enough to put him on the retreat for a few days. Then there was talk about impostors, about hunting them down and killing them.

Considering he'd recently turned into something other than himself, and not fully understanding the whole kitsune concept, he thought it wise to just keep laying low, lest someone decide to hunt him down. After all, he's obviously dangerous.

But all that seems to have calmed down, so he opens a cautious transmission. He's wearing one of the spangled masks Buckingham gave him--he feels strange wearing his original moth mask after actually becoming a moth of sorts.] over?

[Not that this means he's going to show his face outside his room. Someone might still be holding the whole shadow thing against him.

And frankly, he's a little ashamed to face them.]
eatsyourscience: (anything less than the best is a felony)
[personal profile] eatsyourscience
[Souji's outside in the garden, but the fog makes it difficult to tell where, exactly. It's very quiet, though, with the snow and fog deadening all the noise.

He's wearing a pair of black framed glasses. Unusual for him, since he doesn't normally wear glasses.

He stops peering at his surroundings and holds up the camera at face level to address whoever might be listening.]

Don't you think it should have snowed instead of raining yesterday?

[That would make sense in early January.

He takes a few steps through the snow and he doesn't seem to be having any trouble navigating through the fog.]

This isn't ordinary fog. Be careful.
sisterutopia: (Fallen is Babylon)
[personal profile] sisterutopia
[It's certainly been a busy month, hasn't it! So many crazy things happening, people fighting with mirrors, stealing keys, having Christmas, except one person in particular has been fairly absent up until now. The reason is fairly obvious when the video opens to Eleanor's frazzled expression, and the even more unruly state of her room. If it's not obvious enough, Eleanor almost drops the machine when she sneezes loudly. She groans and flops back against the headboard of her bed.]

No, no, I'm alright. If I stay bedridden one more day I may go mad. It's been an entire week, at least, hasn't it? My sense of time has never been as keen as I'd like it to be, but I never realized until I came to the surface how much harder it is to track the days when you can't see the sun.

[She props the device up next to her octopus's tank and finally staggers over to the window to open up the curtains. OH, okay, ugh, sun, no, go away again.]

I don't think I've ever been sick for an entire week before. And I don't think I ever want to be sick again.


Did I miss anything interesting?
airshipswank: (adored the fabulous | like a chesire cat)
[personal profile] airshipswank
[ Buckingham can pull off even this and has heeded Lady Carnahan's advice in the sense that he brought an extra knife when he headed off towards the ruins and one or two hours of traipsing through dusty corridors later the duke has finally struck gold. Literally.

So when he turns on the video feed this time the mansion will see Buckingham very nonchalantly sprawled out on a pile of treasure. He lets a golden coin dance skilfully between his fingers and addresses the camera with his usual grin.

If you won't brave the ruins yourself I could... be persuaded to bring back a souvenir or two.

[ Turning his communication device he allows his viewers a good look at the entire room. ]

Who knows, they might not all turn to dust after the event.

[ Those shiny beetles on that wall over there look especially sturdy. But more on that later. For now Buckingham will continue his coin tricks and hope for a little conversation. Dead people do make for rather one-sided banter. ]
libraritology: (Pride isn't necessarily a vice.)
[personal profile] libraritology
[Some women make the mistake of wearing the wrongs shoes with the wrong frock. Some women can't cook worth a damn, or darn socks to save their lives. And some women read from cursed books that bring about apocalypses, having been far too proud to take precautionary measures and heed ancient superstitions.

Seeing Egypt again is all well and good, and Evelyn rather enjoyed the first day of the event exploring the casbah and mingling with the locals, visiting the museum and relishing the arid heat that Wonderland winters so lack.

It's only on the second day that the mirage on the horizon wavers and Hamunaptra appears that she feels a heavy sense of dread.

Not enough to tell everyone precisely what she did in her own world, but enough that she sends out a little public transmission of her own.

Ah, some of you may have noticed the old ruins to the west of Cairo this morning, and I think it's only prudent to warn you all as an archaeologist-

[More or less.]

-that...that dig sites can be very dangerous, and everyone should take care.
sisterutopia: (Stay away from my Father!)
[personal profile] sisterutopia
[The camera seems to be traveling through a hallway, lit by a dim yellow glow, and by the occasional luminescent blue butterfly that floats by at intervals. Eleanor's voice can be heard as her gloved hands cross over the camera now and then to gently shoo the butterflies away from her. They seem a bit more like fairies, really, but the wings are the only thing clearly visible with the way they flutter past so quickly.]

-I said I don't want to take it off just yet. Especially not right now.

[There's a tinkling sound, but it does sound like it'd be coherent if the speaker were actually close enough to be heard.]

Because I don't know what else I'm going to find down here.

[The camera moves past some wide windows, showing what looks like an underwater setting outside the pipe-like hallway, almost like a coral reef.]

No, it has nothing to do with Mother. I just...

[Her voice trails off as she turns a corner and the base of a large, golden statue in the middle of a large, open room can be seen. There are other butterflies fluttering about the room, but they continue whatever it is they're doing (decorating?) while the small crowd already around Eleanor remains by her side. Her voice almost sounds a little defeated as she stays stationary, most likely staring at the statue.]

... I just need something to remind myself who I am...

[Her hand goes up to her head, and that's when she notices the light on her device. She picks it up and the camera gets a brief glimpse of a red light from her diving helmet before it fades to yellow, and the video ends. It's a moment before the transmission continues in audio only.]

Is anyone having better luck finding the door to their own room than I am? I can't seem to find Marian, eith-oh, there she is. Yes, thank you, the tank looks lovely, I'm sure she's happy. No, no, I'm sure the dress would look lovely, too, but I-... Yes, maybe later. Thank you.

sporty_pottymouth: (HEY ASSHOLE!)
[personal profile] sporty_pottymouth
Hey!! Is anyone else getting harassed by dogs in bandannas?

[And as if on cue one of the aforementioned dogs pops its head on screen and headbutts Stan lightly in the shoulder before saying in a forced high-pitched voice.]

Oh Mister Hero~~ Come and play catch with us~~ Pleaaaaaaase~? [The dog dramatically throws itself against his shoulder and whines.

Stan seems a little put off by this, but pats the dog on its shoulder.

No!! I won't play 'catch' with you, get off me! I'm trying to find out what's going on!
whatseparates: (are you a troubled one?)
[personal profile] whatseparates
[[ooc: please reference this third person sample as background to this post...just for a little texture =3]]

[There's a man standing in the hallway of the mansion, tall, but broad and stocky in build, whole body tense as if he expects to be attacked at any moment. He's wearing a beige sweater that might look familiar to some, damp and blood-spotted in places, smeared with grime, but it's hard to make a positive identification--his face is obscured by a mask in the shape of a moth.

He's breathing heavily as he looks around, eyes visible as flashes of white in the shadows of the mask, and something is clutched in his right hand. He seems to notice it for the first time, holds it up to the light. It's the handle of a golf club, broken off sharply just after the grip. It's coated in blood, and so is the hand that holds it.

He makes a soft sound of revulsion and hurls it to the floor, backing into the wall--and out of view of the camera, though his harsh, panicked breathing is still audible.]


Oct. 28th, 2012 07:03 pm
thisisherson: A House Is Not A Home - Dionne Warwick (A chair is still a chair)
[personal profile] thisisherson
[Kurt is in distress. Unfortunately, he's also only just barely recognizable. His face is mostly his own, but his hair has lengthened to a bob and it's mostly blonde, with just a few brown ends that are quickly fading away as it grows. The video is also suspiciously angled to avoid his chest.]

You know, I was just starting to think this event would be okay. Lady Gaga is inspiring, and there are far worse things I could be forced to dress up as. But this?!

[He gestures VERY ANGRILY to himself, in a circle.]

This is going too far.

[For a second, he looks like he's going to make demands and insist Wonderland fix this right now. But then, he sighs, and looks a little defeated.]

I know, I know. Complaining won't do anything - I just wanted some confirmation that I wasn't the only one suffering here. Thanks.

46: video

Oct. 26th, 2012 11:28 am
paper_knight: (why me)
[personal profile] paper_knight
"Hi--would anyone be willing to conjure up a flashlight or two for me?
At the moment I can only manage these."

He holds up a carved turnip containing a flickering candle-stub.

"Not really ideal for exploring. And the sun doesn't seem to be coming up any time soon."
sporty_pottymouth: (Bummed)
[personal profile] sporty_pottymouth
[Stan is visible on screen just staring at a guinea pig that is curled up on his lap. It is chewing carefully on the tip of a carrot and when he strokes its back it looks up at him.]

Hey! Has anybody here seen Craig? He's a kid that's like my age, but he has this really dumb blue hat on. He isn't in his room anymore and now I'm stuck with like five guinea pigs! I don't even know where the rest of them went.

... Anybody want one of these guys? They're pretty mellow but I don't know what to do with them. I was holding them in me and Kyle's room until Craig found out what to do with them, but I guess the asshole just bailed.

[But secretly Stan is actually pretty worried after all that weird shit went down. Like creepy death fog and such.]
sisterutopia: (As I sat there with you)
[personal profile] sisterutopia
[Eleanor's voice sounds tight, like she's putting effort into keeping it level.]

I can't believe I only just now noticed that he was gone. Father... I'm so sorry...

[She's quiet for another moment as she tries to calm back down.]

... This place isn't right. It's like being back in Rapture, except... warmer. Not a good warmth, either. I don't like it.

[Her voice becomes a little more muffled, like she's got her arms against her head.]

I can't find any of my comics. I tried looking in one of the rooms for something to do earlier, and all I found was a... a swimsuit. I don't need a swim suit.

[Sure enough, anyone who finds her sitting in the hall will see she still has one of those Japanese school swimsuits with her.]
libraritology: (Come again?)
[personal profile] libraritology

Do the mirrors seem different to anyone?

[In a vain attempt to mask the overwhelming desires that have been growing steadily since yesterday, Evelyn broaches a keg of intellectual intercourse in the hopes that it might distract from most impure thoughts.

Impure used loosely, as there is nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to carnal pleasures, but the subject is certainly inappropriate in polite conversation, and for some odd reason it's all her mind appears to be fixated on. Try as she might, Evie finds it difficult to divert herself without addressing the Wonderland public.

So here she is, sitting in one of the curious rooms with the questionable decor, less bothered by the bloodstains on the walls than she ought to be, begging for a mental deterrent...


Darling, I need your advice.

[...or perhaps succumbing to those peculiar voices extolling the virtues of physicality.]


Sep. 1st, 2012 10:42 pm
willfixitforyou: (Hope I'm remembered)
[personal profile] willfixitforyou
[This is likely the calmest voice you've heard on the network all day. Jim is by the sound of it calm and collected, though he is not at all amused.]

A public service announcement, if you will.

If you value your safety, kindly grab a gasmask from your closet and stay in your room until this is over. Lock the door, do whatever it is you require to make yourself feel secure, but do not go outside under any circumstances.

[A sigh.] That would be all.

[There is some shuffling, and then audible breathing sounds as he takes his own advice before switching off the feed.
Someone got shot at.]

sisterutopia: (Stay away from my Father!)
[personal profile] sisterutopia
[The camera gets a good look at a singular glowing green viewport on Eleanor's helmet before she pulls back from it. Her posture's kind of slinky, crouched low for a moment until it's clear the camera's just on the ground beside the pool, at which point she hops down into a sitting position at the edge.]

I know people have been feeling rather tense lately, but since I haven't seen very many other people out here at the pool, I was thinking...

Would, um... Would anyone be willing to take swimming lessons? I've never taught before, but it's not terribly difficult. And it's something that you may need someday, so...

[She trails off again, and pushes off into the water, lazily swimming back through the water so she can hear if/when she gets a response.]
sisterutopia: (You always hurt the one you love)
[personal profile] sisterutopia
[When the video starts up, there's still some purple smoke floating in the air. The camera tilts, and it shows a figure that might be vaguely familiar to some residents, for one reason or another: Lanky, bad posture, wearing an old-fashioned diving suit tailored to fit a young girl. As the camera is apparently put down somewhere, the bed in the room can be seen. On top of it is a small, skinny doll with a bubble-shaped head with little toy arm-spikes. Soon, though, a real helmet and real arm-spike equipped gloves are set down next to it, and a girl of about 16 or 17 hops up onto the bed. When she speaks, it seems like she's addressing the machine, but she isn't quite looking at it, either.]

Well... It certainly looks just the way I left it. I couldn't find any of them, though.

[She gives a quick, short chuckle, which doesn't sound as convincingly lighthearted as she meant it to sound. She then finally looks to the camera, wearing an equally unconvincing smile.]

I... don't suppose there's anyone I know here, is there?


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