cowhouse: (too tired to be wired)
[personal profile] cowhouse
[Well well well, look who's crawled out of his hole... It's been a while, Wonderland. Sup?]

Uh, yo. I was thinking- [oh no abort abort] and like looking at the calendar or whatever, and I've totally been here for, like, an entire year. I think. Pretty sure. Whatever, anyway-

[The feed shakes a bit as Jesse digs around his pocket for something, and there's a bit of muffled swearing and a few 'oh come on's; probably should have gotten his shit together before starting the damn thing, huh? OH WELL. Moving right along.

He finds what he's looking for eventually, and he holds it up to the feed. It's sort of blurry because it's slightly too close to the camera, but it's obvious enough what it is: a small wooden coin, about the size of a poker chip; its face is smooth and shiny, and there's an artsy looking '12' carved into it. It's obviously been treated in a way that compliments the natural grain and colour of the wood, and it's pretty legit. Professional, even- have some god damn pride, Jesse, Jesus.]

I figured we gotta mark the time somehow, you know? Since we don't actually get any older and those tearaway calendar things stop being cool when you're like...  Five. [Except for the ones with the pinup chicks on 'em. Those are cool forever, but that's not the point, okay? By and large they're mad lame hence... This.

He looks away, sets his hand over the side of his neck in a dead giveaway of his growing awkwardness. This is totally putting himself out there like... Legit, wow, why did he think this was a good idea? Uuuuuugh...

He perseveres anyway, though, because there's no going back now. The damage is done, he's made his video bed, it's over, etc.]

So if you're into it, lemme me know how long you want and I'll get on it. I'm at the shed thing, you know-- outside, kinda by the woods, ish.

[It's possible this will out him to... The like five people he knows personally and hasn't already outed himself to, but whatever. He's over it.

CARRY ON, WONDERLAND. Or come find him (he'll be in the shed, covered in shavings and dust and working on whatever), hit him up here, point and laugh. You know. Whichever.]
intelligently: (SIX)
[personal profile] intelligently
Considering that it's obvious that not everyone is from the same type of place, and about half of everyone here didn't know about any kind of magic before getting here- ( It's okay, neither did she ) -it would be interesting to know exactly what there is, and what's possible in worlds. When things get brought here knowing about it first could be useful.

And before anyone asks, no- it's not going personal. I don't care whether you're part of any of the questions just what you already knew and what's possible. It's from a science perspective.

( Which she will tell you about if you actually ask because no many people care about Wonderland physics )

Where are you from?
When are you from?
Did you already know about:
    Supernatural creatures? ( e.g. nazi vampires )
    Other non-human things? ( e.g. gods )
    Resurrecting the dead?
    Reality altering?
    Alternate/pocket dimensions?
    Something 'unusual' not specified?
( Yes, half of that list is also magic related but specific can be very helpful )

So fill it out. And yes, giving examples would actually be helpful. Any questions?

onsilksheets: (belatalbot101)
[personal profile] onsilksheets
I'm not the only person who woke up this morning to a puppy invasion, am I? Found them in my drawers, my wardrobe. Even under my bed. They're everywh-NO! Not the shoes! Or that dress! Come here, you little bugger! Get away from there!

[The feed ends abruptly after that.]


[For anyone who happens to be on the eighth floor around midday, they'll get a glimpse of Bela shooing puppies out of her room into the hall. She's also picking them up from her floor and placing them gently down on the ground outside, praying that they don't decide to come sniffing into her room again and destroy more of her belongings. Suffice to say, Bela looks more than a little frazzled. Still, it doesn't stop her from the task at hand.

Feel free to stand and gawk. Or help if you're feeling particularly charitable.
thepointisdolphins: (shades)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley begins the transmission without preamble.]

So...for those that know him, Aziraphale--Ezra Fell, to some of you--seems to be...missing.

[His voice is level, but in that way that people get when they're trying very hard not to sound upset.]

His things are still here, but I haven't been able to find him for a week now. This doesn't seem to have to do with his Mirror this time, thankfully. I'm sure Zirah would have...made himself known by now.

If anyone does see him, please do let me know.

[He clears his throat.]

In the meantime--strange question, but is there any sort of library of videos here? Not that a rental shop seems to exactly be necessary, but I was wondering if anyone has a stockpile or anything. There's a film I want to watch.

[Several films. Lots of films. Basically Crowley wants a distraction.]

04 | video

Apr. 6th, 2014 09:55 pm
intelligently: (003)
[personal profile] intelligently
[ The video is first obscured by something that quickly gets thrown to the side. Judging from the small pile of clothes starting on Lydia's bed, and some on the floor that didn't make it on to the bed it was also a piece of clothing. And there's another item quickly joining it. Lydia is back folks, and she's having a clear out. Get some fabulous clothes while you can (although you might have to pipe up yourself for them) ]

Either I had really terrible taste the last time I was here or Wonderland did something to- possible everything that I own.

[ She hasn't had a chance to check everything out yet - her wardrobe is pretty extensive. Sorry for the mess, Allison? ]

At least that gives me something to do while waiting for what will inevitably happen.

[ She's also kind of not okay. Not horrible but. Bad things at home, Stiles now missing. She might definitely be worried. Possibly panicked. And is definitely needing a major distraction ]

Whenever that might be.

Video 03

Mar. 18th, 2014 09:52 pm
evilhandissues: (bitch please)
[personal profile] evilhandissues
[Lindsey has been drinking. (Because that's the best time to use the network right? Right. Never mind that he doesn't know any of you. He is made bold, eyes glassy as he smiles.. Downing a shot he shoulders his acoustic guitar, offers a few example strings.]

Okay so you guys all have a lot of musical talent.

Check this out. [Deep breath, one. Two. And then he launches into a Blue Grass Cover of Styx's Renegade. It only lasts for a couple of beats however, maybe less then a minute and a half before he finishes.]

Yeah. how about that.

...Jesse I dunno if you know Styx but if you don't...You oughta educate yourself. And if you do - there. That's not country.

[He proved he's versatile. Setting the guitar down he stares at the camera and sighs.] And that's the show.

[someone was just very bored perhaps. He spreads his hands wide.] ...Goodnight Cleveland - anyone else as bored as hell or is it just me?

[ooc: Big thanks to Mr. Shaw of Styx for the bluegrass version all credit goes to them obviously for reals]
usskickass: (Welp)
[personal profile] usskickass
[Now, Beiste isn't a heavy drinker. Not normally. But sometimes you just go "hey, it's St. Patrick's day! Why not?" And then you don't remember anything until you wake up the next morning 'round noon and everything hurts and makes you feel like watering your plants mouth-style and...


Beiste grunts at the comm, annoyed at what little light it gives off in her small room, but, well. She needs it, so.]

...Anybody wanna come and gimme some Gatorade? Or, y'know, whatever the hangover cure is back where you're from.

Uh. Also. If I went and bothered any of you last night, 'msorry. I can get a little rowdy.

[Although "rowdy" mostly means she sings a lot of country songs. But she can't imagine she was drinking totally alone. least she hopes she wasn't, anyway.]

[[ooc: Feel free to say your char was one of Beiste's drinking buddies. Poke me if you are unsure about a detail but mostly, yeah, she sings country songs and gets a little more affectionate and bear-huggy.]]
thepointisdolphins: (god does not play dice)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley isn't exactly enjoying this event per se, but he is liking it a fair sight more than the last, like...fifty events. This one has a slightly smaller chance of everyone he likes dying horribly, no one's going around murdering people this time, and the only real danger is from gravity, which isn't really a problem for his kind.]

[It's also been the first chance to stretch his wings in ages. He hasn't been flying in, oh...a century at least, probably more than that. This is an actual excuse to use his wings again, and wouldn't you know it, it's just like riding a bicycle.]

[He's currently lounging on a free-floating section of roof, feet dangling off the edge and sipping a nice red wine. His wings are folded at his back, feathered and black as his namesake except for the thin strip of white along the very tips of his primaries. At this point he doesn't even care who sees them. Practically everyone and their mum knows already.]

Not so bad, this one. It's practically a holiday after the year thus far, eh? Just a floating world--not even a monster to be seen. You know, the Japanese had an entire art form based on the concept of the "floating world." Well, not literally. Ukiyo-e, really quite lovely.

[He sips his wine delicately.]

I just hope all of you manage to keep your footing.

[Smug asshole.]

[For the whole event, Crowley can be found basically anywhere, flitting from place to place, drinking wine and enjoying the breeze, cold though it still is. For once he actually doesn't mind the cold.]
builditstrong: (the kid)
[personal profile] builditstrong
[The feed is turned away from Kid, showing a view of a shattered Wonderland, chunks of land suspended in midair, some of them connected by bridges made out of debris, some not. Some are small, some are large. The feed catches a door and a section of wall tumbling out into the nothingness below with a crack of wood and metal.]

Yeah, this one's mine.

[Kid keeps the camera pointed out at Wonderland. He doesn't want to look at the camera right now. Of all the events to happen only a week after his death, it had to be this one. It's adding insult to injury, this reminder of what his world has become, and all the things that go along with it. And all of this on top of hearing that Dean has vanished.]

[It's just been a miserable month.]

Looks jus' like Caelondia. 'S uncanny. [That's one word for it. "Disturbing" is another.] Figger things're pretty obvious here. Don' bother tryin' t' jump, it jus' ain't worth th' risk 'nless ya got some Hop-Scotch on ya, an' I dunno 'f the closets are gonna work. S'ppose Wonderland ain't gonna be kind like Caelondia an' form up bridges 'neath yer feet. Keep t' ropes an' such. We got folk what kin fly here, yeah? They might be willin' t'help.

I'd gen'rally say jus' stay in one place, but that means settin' fer three 'r four days without food an' water fer some. 'F th' diner's whole, I'd say head that way. 'Course I ain't got no idea where it's ended up.

Jus'...look out fer each other. An' don't fall. [He pauses.] Th' gods sure ain't gonna catch ya.
939: (down in the horse corral standing alone)
[personal profile] 939
[ Video. ]

[ There’s a young man gaping cluelessly at the screen. Once he realizes that this strange box is doing something, his curiosity turns to horror in a flash. ]


[ The communicator fucking explodes. rip in pieces, motherfucker. ]

[ Action. ]

[ A. Johnny will be scouting the Mansion with binoculars from the vantage point of a bush in the gardens. If anyone approaches, even if they don’t see him, he’ll threaten them to keep their distance.

"Hands up in the air-- where I can see them! Hands up; don't take another step! ARE YOU DEAF? I SAID STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE."

[ B. After someone hopefully explains the situation to him, a very dirt-covered Johnny’ll be in the kitchen, sitting on the counter, making coffee, and fiddling with a communicator. For hours. For days. He will be drinking so much goddamn coffee and eyeing everyone who enters the kitchen suspiciously. ]
airshipswank: // all icons by <user name=airshipswank> unless otherwise stated (enigma of the world | scrutiny)
[personal profile] airshipswank
[ Disregard the date, shame on my timezone, this is clearly the 18th, a splendid morning after a hideous series of murders, which left the Duke of Buckingham occupied with matters other than his daily riding routine, such as not getting blood on his boots.

But well, well, it's all behind us now, is it not? Which brings Wonderland to a far more important matter, namely the vexed nobleman standing by the stable door, the stable door on the grounds no less, after his own showed no trace of the prized animal he meant to visit.

And of course, last he recalled Ascalon, bright as the steed may be, had insufficient knowledge in regards to opening his stable door on his own, which currently accounts for a great deal of ire in the duke's tone.

I found today that of my horses appears to have been... misplaced.

[ And that is putting the dirty thievery mildly. Buckingham takes a sharp breath. The riding crop in his hands creaks irritably. ]

Andalusian. Black. I'd not suppose anyone would have an idea concerning his whereabouts?
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.]
idontdoyay: (pic#6561018)
[personal profile] idontdoyay

first all that's visible is one big brown eye before she backs up the video and makes a face. ]

Okay... I don't know what's going on here? But I'm pretty sure this isn't a dream. [ she rubs her arm absently. ] These pinches are gonna bruise. That and--

It doesn't feel like a dream. It feels real, but that's--

I'm not crazy okay. A little weird, sure. But not nutso, promise. Just in serious need of a way overpriced coffee drink. Anyone want to hook a sister up?
nofucksconjured: (One two for your bad tattoos and)
[personal profile] nofucksconjured
[ Hannah's sitting on the bed in her room, jacket off. She's tapping her wand against one tattoo'd shoulder and looking quite put-out. This has been quite an unnerving week. ]

Okay, so, fucked up stalker statues aside, color me curious. Are there training areas here? Or any place I can practice a few spells without potentially killing someone by accident? Mostly because one, I don't want to get rusty if this kind of shit's a regular thing here. And two... Trying to blow up something that doesn't blow up? Talk about a mood killer. I've got some magic frustration to work out.

Also. Anyone here good with ink? I hate to cheat on my tattoo guy, but this whole "bam, suddenly you're twenty years older" shit has me thinking. I'd like to get my sleeves done before I'm wrinkly. I can't be a bad ass tattoo'd grandma without the tattoos, right?

[ Priorities. She's got 'em. ]
strangeboy: (:|)
[personal profile] strangeboy
[D'Artagnan's not entirely sure why it took him so long to notice. He's been here a year-- more, in fact-- and the ponytails he's been putting his hair in have only gotten longer and longer. Maybe it's when he realizes that his hair is nearly halfway down his back that he has a problem. And that problem is that his hair is too long and too unruly to really take care of properly anymore.

He can hardly cut it himself. So.

D'Artagnan's face appears on the network, looking as it usually does, and his hair pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Still much too long.


[There's an awkward pause. D'Artagnan looks away from his device and then back to it, letting out a breath. Nerves.]

I've been here more than a year, and it seems I've neglected to ah, groom myself, in that time. [Not the best way to put it, he knows, but it'll be worth it. Maybe.]

So, if there's anyone here who, ah, may be able to help with the length of my hair? I'd be grateful. It seems my swordsmanship doesn't extend to scissors.

[One last, awkward clearing of his throat and then he clicks it off.]


Jan. 19th, 2014 06:21 pm
onsilksheets: (now listen closely)
[personal profile] onsilksheets
[Bela is nowhere to be seen when the video clicks on but her voice is clearly audible in the background, sounding like a echo. Someone isn't happy.]

...Bloody ridiculous..stupid Wonderland...

[The language being used becomes more colourful as the feed continues. A moment passes and this comes into view. If armour could have an expression, Bela's would be furious right about now.]

I appreciate vintage but having armour for a body is taking it a bit too far. I don't think I can stand another day being unable to feel anything. Or eat.

[She just needed to rant a little. Oh, but wait...]

Has anyone figured out what the televisions have got to do with this? It doesn't seem to fit with what's been going on.
manicuredangel: (Irritated)
[personal profile] manicuredangel
[The sun shone through the window onto Aziraphale’s face and roused the angel from his light dozing. He blinked open his blue eyes and sat up, fumbling for the communication device to check the time, accidentally flicking on the video feed in the process. Viewers are treated to the view of Aziraphale’s extra disheveled mop of curly blond hair, entirely bare torso, and a bit of ruffled white wings with black speckles behind him.]

[Keen-eyed viewers might also notice a certain dark lump on the opposite side of the bed. Or at least a tuft of black hair poking out of the top of the covers.]

Dear, I think it’s time to get up. What would you like for breakfast?

[No response except for the shift of fabric.]

Really, dear… Breakfast. And a nice pot of tea sound lovely. Wake up.

[He nudges the lump in what may or may not be the side. Who knows? It’s a human-sized mass under the blanket. The lump twitches a bit and the camera auto-focuses for a moment in confusion since the angle’s a bit rubbish. Something that looks like a black wing appears in the corner of the frame for a moment before dropping away out of sight off the side of the bed with a sort of “flump” sound.]

Mffggfffllllssssssstime ‘zit?

[Huh. That sounds like Crowley’s voice.]

Crowley, it’s already eight o’clock. It’s time to wake up and enjoy the morning.

[He slips his hand under the cover and feels along the lump until he finds what he’s looking for. Oh yeah, he pinches dat ass. The Crowley-shaped lump responds with a snarly-growly sound and curls up even tighter beneath the blankets, the tuft of hair disappearing from view.]

Nnnnffbloody mornin’, bloody ungodly hour ‘swhat. Five more hours. Sleepin’, angel.

Oh no you don’t. Not this time. I let you sleep to your heart’s content most of the time, but I want to take a walk.

[He hesitates before he pulls off the cover. The room isn’t cold, by any means. But suddenly going from blanket-covered to blanket-free can’t be fun. Especially not for that particular blanket-dweller. Fortunately for everyone involved, the blanket hits the communication device just enough to turn the camera--sorry, Wonderland, no free peep shows. There is, however, a yelp and then a thud as Crowley falls out of bed. A downy black feather drifts into view.]

Now that’s just bloody well cruel. Mornings are for songbirds and those bloody mad jogging types, not any self-respecting demon.

I asked you yesterday to be up at a reasonable hour because I wanted to share breakfast and tea and a walk with you in the morning and you agreed. Up you get, dear boy.

[Crowley makes some indecipherable grumbling sounds from offscreen.] Bloody angels with their bloody guilt trips and bloody sodding morn--

[Crowley trails off quite abruptly. For a few blessed moments, there is silence.]

...Why is that light blinking?

Hmm? What light?

That, light, the one on-- [Beat.] Angel, tell me you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t--

[There’s a flapping sound, the thud of footsteps and then the communicator gets thrown clear across the room. It hits a wall and the feed cuts out.]

[ooc: Aziraphale and Crowley.]
usskickass: (That so?)
[personal profile] usskickass
Uh, so, hey. Howdy. [Beiste gives a little wave, clears her throat.] I know we've been getting lots of new folks and it's been a while since I talked about this all public-like, so. I teach self-defense on Wednesdays. Mostly what they'd teach you in one of the ones for ladies, along with judo throws and just basic workout stuff. Some events separate us, so each of us learning how to defend ourselves somehow is better than leavin' it up to only some of us, I figure.

Basically, I'm putting this up here to recruit other teachers for things, if any of you know anything about defense. I'd prefer stuff that ain't lethal, since there's always the chance that we'll be fighting one another. Just something that knocks them down or out and lets you run away.

And as far as people taking lessons or just coming to train, y'all are welcome. Anybody, any skill level. Me and any other teachers that volunteer will figure out something you can do to keep yourself and others safe.

Just lemme know if any of you are interested, 'kay?

02 | video

Jan. 8th, 2014 09:52 pm
intelligently: (97)
[personal profile] intelligently

[ Hey, Wonderland. Do you remember this face? This judgement? This fantastically dressed judgement, if you want to be specific. She's back, and still judging ]

Other than apparently being here once already, which no one bothered to mention, and having my best friend be here for months and not notice anything, apparently I also time travelled. [ There is extra emphasis there on the 'time travel', because it is still a ridiculous concept. This whole thing is a ridiculous concept, but whilst she's not openly objecting to it (at least refusing it) she's still thinking it. And might object later ] My birthday isn't at Christmas. And we just had Christmas, and New Year. I don't even want to know how far I've time travelled, as well as coming-

[ That sentence is cut short by one very loud, and rather high pitched scream courtesy of the thing that Lydia has just spotted out of the corner of her eye. Her Christmas present. Running across the floor. Someone didn't open their stock, or find their present until now due to it being alive ]

There are mice here? So we're all in crazy future land, one that's going to get worse, and there are mice?

[ That judging has just increased tenfold. And there's one very dramatic sigh ]

Someone's going to have to deal with that.

[ And it's clearly not going to be her. She's also shutting off the video now, and sitting on her bed until it's safe ]

[ ooc; Lydia's Christmas gift was actually a hamster! Because hamsters are great dog substitutes, amirite? Go Wonderland! ]
nofucksconjured: (Look at you)
[personal profile] nofucksconjured
Avidas... whoever the fuck is hearing this. The mage who made this runestone has got interesting taste. Whatever. Whoever the hell you are, I've already got one. I'm good. Unless this is a new one from you, Mother. Please don't be Mother.

If by any chance this is Betty, Dee, or Violet... Where in this gods forsaken shithole are you? I woke up in this mansion so the dickbag who brought me here without permission is one, an elf-napping asshole and two, rich as fuck. I'm not saying we should loot the place, but we should totally loot the fuck out of this place.

But seriously, how the fuck did this happen? I'm used to being hung over as hell when I wake up somewhere I don't recognize. Betty didn't put magic 'shrooms in my stir-fry again, did she?
thepointisdolphins: (ineffable)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[So this past week? Kind of crappy. Ghosts and time travel and the end of the world, it's not exactly in keeping with the Christmas spirit, or something like that. It all seems to be over now, or at the very least it seems like the ghosts have gone, so Crowley's decided to take the latter half of the day to enjoy Christmas and the new peace and quiet.]

[He doesn't do the whole gift-giving thing because, come on, demon, but he does switch off all of his cursed mistletoe in the mansion, turning it back to normal. He figures that's gift enough, and watching the fangy plants chase people around has gotten boring.]

[So now he's settled into the bar for a drink and some quiet, and so he can stare bemusedly at the assorted random crap he has found in his stocking. This includes a bottle of liquid even he can't identify, a live snake which he has currently stuffed into a small plastic terrarium, a shirt with a goose on it--America is going to get a talking to when he sees him--and a tiny, die cast exact replica of his 1926 Bentley, right down to the nearly microscopic Best of Queen album abandoned on the passenger's seat.]

[Pain in the ass, all told, which sums up this week.]

[Still, as he rolls his toy Bentley back and forth across the bar, he remembers that last time there was a rough event he offered people a drink. He figures a fair few of them can do with one this time around too--plus there's at least one person he needs to check on. Two, technically, but he expects one of these to find him here if he just waits long enough. So he fires off a few text messages and braces himself for another night of gross emotions.]

[It's a good thing he's in a charitable mood.]

Hot toddies and buttered rum at the pub, for anyone who needs to make their holiday more tolerable.

Private Text to Jesse Pinkman )
thinblueline: ([±] lurky mclurkerton)
[personal profile] thinblueline
Unnecessary information about the man behind the curtain... )

[When no one is looking, signs appear in the hallways of the mansion. Anyone following the arrows on the hand-posted notices will find themselves in front of a typically empty room on the fourth floor and a door propped invitingly. Inside, every surface has been wrapped in festive paper. Against the wall, opposite the door, a single table sits in front of a trap door. On it, a sign reads:]

Secret Santa Gifts For All
(Just announce yourself.)

[[OOC Notes: This is an open post and an opportunity for any and all characters to receive a (seemingly) random gift from an anonymous Secret Santa. For this, characters can request up to three gifts!

So that all those interested in participating (here's hoping that's everyone in Wonderland) can be accommodated, threads will be short and limited to gift requests and receipts (unless by request, so feel free to PM). All efforts to uncover the identity of the mystery Santa will be met with resistance, but if you want to plot something out, PM me and we can discuss that, too! Have fun~]]
no_eels: (♚ full body)
[personal profile] no_eels
[Is that the sound of sleigh bells jingling, and—

No. No jingling here. In fact, it's more like crashing. Toothless had left the decorations alone, at first, but now he's discovered that it makes noise when you paw at it. Life may never be the same in the mansion again, at least until January. He doesn't understand it all (why would you want just one tree when you could have a forest) but he's determined to enjoy it.

The view on his comm shows him, every so often, rampaging around the mansion. He can be easily found by sound alone, chewing on things and dragging decorations around. Purely on accident, a giant red bow has tangled haphazardly around his neck.]
chloroformedthejanitor: (I'm just not sure)
[personal profile] chloroformedthejanitor
[Annie appears onscreen, looking anything but her chipper self. Seems that's more and more common, these days, especially after things like disgusting zombies. She'd kept her own and managed to make it to the farmhouse on the second day, and stayed there for the remainder of the event, helping people who managed to get there as well. It wasn't until the event was over that she realized that they were well into fall, and that Christmas must be coming up soon, and if Christmas is coming, that means Hanukkah's here, or...that it already passed.

And, okay, yeah, she doesn't have like, the best relationship with her parents anymore, but it's still a special holiday for her! And she could've had a sweet little ceremony each night and lit the candles and made matzoh ball soup in the kitchen and shared it!! But no, instead she was killing zombies and hiding in a farmhouse. Seriously.

So, she can be found in the diner, her crafting supplies spread out in front of her in a booth in the back. Currently, she's pouring glitter over a set of folded up pieces of paper-- Christmas cards. She missed one holiday, she's not going to miss another.
cowhouse: (so there.)
[personal profile] cowhouse
[IS THIS THING ON? First actual network post is go, here's to hoping it doesn't broadcast into the ether!

Jesse's face pops up on the feed, and if he looks a little worn out, the reason will be clear soon enough. He looks to be in decent spirits, though, cigarette in hand-- no Debbie Downer here!]

Uh, yo. [Great start! Nailed it.] So I don't know how many smokers we got here, but it's getting mad cold up there on the roof and we got all these empty rooms so I figured yo, why not make 'em work, like--  [VAGUE HAND WAVE.] -like a lounge or whatever.

[A beat, and then:]

I, uh-- I guess I got kinda carried away... [He turns his head and pulls the camera back to reveal a tastefully decorated lounge area, complete with a number of small tables all housing giant ornate hookahs and a bunch of oversized couches with a range of extremely cozy looking pillows.Fucking VIP.

How did such a scrawny dude move all that stuff around? Who cares, it's awesome and that's all that matters.]
Whatever. This's Wonderland, you can't do Wonderland without hookahs. And since the caterpillar's like majorly slacking in the pipe department I figured somebody's gotta hook it up.

[There's a stereo, too, but he doesn't really need to say anything about that- it's loud enough that anyone watching will undoubtedly be able to hear the sick tunes he's got playing. Is it anything resembling the right genre for the atmosphere?  Of course not, but Jesse gives zero fucks about that.  AND THAT SOUND QUALITY. You're welcome.  

He turns back to grin at the camera.]

So come smoke it up, bitches! Eighth floor, yo, open for business free of charge. No cover.

[Aaaand he cuts the feed there. Time to try these suckers out... For quality control purposes, you understand.  He'll be around for a while, though once his lungs get tired of the abuse he'll probably be stretched out on one of those couches and cranking that dope sound system way, way up.]
thepointisdolphins: (angel pls stahp)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins

[Crowley is miserable, tired, cold, and he's lost his sunglasses again. Well, technically he just had to ditch them last night when the blizzard kicked up and he realized that humans can't really pull off the sunglasses at night thing when they're trying to actually survive. Things are tenuous these days where Crowley's demonic identity is concerned, so he's sticking to audio. No stupid zombie event is going to make him let his guard down.]

If anyone has seen Aziraphale in the last twenty-four hours, do please let me know. Lost him in the blizzard last night and haven't seen him since.

[He's trying very hard not to think of what happened the last time they were human and separated.]

Also, heard a rumor that there's a safe zone somewhere in the woods. That's where I'm headed; better than the indignity of being eaten alive in a prison, at least. Wilderness already had that danger, so dying out here will be less embarrassing. Plus plenty of nice tall trees to leap from if you get bitten.

[Bitter much? Yeah. He hisses slightly and ends the feed.]

action )
righteously: ([Neutral] Oh SNAP)
[personal profile] righteously

[It's bright and early Thanksgiving morning that Dean appears on screen. Well, maybe not bright- he's sending this out at the sharp point of six in the morning, and the sun's not quite up yet. He doesn't sleep much, especially not when he's got stuff to do, and he's been thinking about this ever since the leaves started changing.

The plan was to do most of the work on his own, but standing there in the kitchen, flour coating most of the surfaces, flour sticking to his cheek, flour everywhere... in retrospect, maybe he could use a little help.

So he sends out a broadcast, figuring people'll stumble on it whenever they wake up during the day, and it'll kill two birds with one stone. He can wrangle help from the people that are willing, and it'll give a few hours notice to anyone that decides to just partake in the eating part.

Either way, his tight smile looks distinctly harried when he starts talking.]


[Sort of a generic, broad greeting.]

I'm, uh- not really sure how much most of you guys know about America- or... you know, Earth, but whatever. The point is, we've got this holiday in America called Thanksgiving, and it's pretty much the best holiday that exists anywhere ever.

[Oh, Dean... You don't have to lie to the nice people.]

There's a long drawn-out crappy historical story about Native Americans and Pilgrims, but since like half of you don't even know what those things are, I'm just gonna cut to the chase. Point is, every year on the last Thursday of November, families all get together and eat a crapload of food until they feel like they're gonna pass out, and talk about stuff they're grateful for. But mostly, it's all about the food and the putting up with one another. I figure, well, we're all kinda stuck here, right? That's about as close to family as some of us're ever gonna get, and- yeah, some of you are family to me. But even if you're not, I thought we ought to have a real Thanksgiving. Kinda put all the crap that's been going on behind us for a day while we stuff our faces with something that isn't... you know, each other.

[He shrugs a little. Zombies, man. Like it or not, somebody tried to eat somebody that last event.]

So, I figure we'll do that up in the bar around six. In the meantime... If anyone doesn't suck in the kitchen, I could... seriously use a hand. Or like twelve hands. I got like eight turkeys that ain't gonna stuff themselves, if I have to peel one more potato I'll shoot myself, and I'm pretty sure the oven just called me a name.

[He's not joking. It rhymed with rooshrag. He scowls at it, and it... Doesn't do anything. Because it's an inanimate object. In his defense, it does look particularly menacing about not being sentient. It's a sure sign that if he's left alone in that kitchen he's going to lose his mind and bake himself into 2 and 20 blackbird pies.

With that said, he cuts the feed.]


[Later that night, the bar is decked out in holiday themed decor. There are paper hand turkey strings and decorative leaves, tables are pushed together into long, room-spanning lines and covered with nice white table clothes. There's enough food to feed a small army and then some, and it ranges from the traditional things (turkey, mashed potatoes, corn) to... less commonly found items (white rice, cucumber sandwiches, bowls of gummy bears). In typical bar fashion, the beer is bottomless and abundant.

The whole place looks damn nice, which is good because Dean seems to be a hair away from having some kind of damn breakdown and stabbing someone with a two-pronged fork. People can serve themselves and fight for elbow room, but as far as the host is concerned, his mission is accomplished and the only thing he needs in his life is a giant flagon of beer and a viking-sized turkey leg.]


[This broadcast is post-dated 1 week, and officially going to take place on the holiday itself. To make sure everyone has time to tag at their leisure around their holiday plans, I just wanted to get it up in advance, so feel free to take your time / prioritize the event / postpone until after the holiday / whatever your jam is!

This is a mingle log! Please feel free to make use of the sub-threads, tag around, multi-person threads promote holiday togetherness, all that good stuff! The invitation is nice and broad, so everyone is welcome! Happy holidays! C:]
alltheways: (When you get to the Eighth Square)
[personal profile] alltheways
[The Red Queen appears on the network with her Vorpal Shield hanging on the wall behind her. She doesn't sit on a throne, of course--she's not as presumptuous as some Queens--instead she stands, straight and tall. The room she's standing is is completely nondescript, giving away no hints about her location.]

I'm happy to say that I have regained my shield, dear friends, and just in time. Danger is once again coming your way. A crash is imminent.

But there will be a safe haven set aside for you. I fear it may be difficult to find, and it won't be large, but it will be there nonetheless.

[She tents her fingers together, looking pensive.]

It is...the best that could be done.


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