[Is it that time again already? Why, it just seems like there was an event, what with the murders and such going on. Funny how the time flies.
Hector, to his great disgruntlement and shame, has gotten stuck in...Well, it was a tea room. Still mostly is, really, even if it's popped itself free of the rest of the mansion, and drifted just far enough that his stiff leg will make it a little iffy getting anywhere else, though he's been seriously considering it. Mostly because it's dreadfully dull, stuck in a tea room - or...On a tea room? - with nothing else to do.
The lack of rum does little to help that. After all, he's not the type to care for afternoon tea, and he's certainly wishing he'd at least ended up with the kitchen, but of course that would be too easy. Of course.]
Well, here we are. And supply runs and those as can make them are all well and good, true. But has anyone stopped to consider that p'raps this is a mite too easy. After all, is that the punchline then? Rolling off, p'raps, in our sleep, such as the case may be. Falling for making a jump too wide to bridge, mayhap. But is that it?
Seems a tad tame, is what I'm saying, comparatively.
[And he'll be here all event, folks, stuck with a stiff leg and bored to death. Hop on over and keep him company? He'll even be nice this time. Promise.]
[Is it that time again already? Why, it just seems like there was an event, what with the murders and such going on. Funny how the time flies.
V. An Audio Message, The Wonderland Network. 4:19 PM
[ Looking at the room's furniture and decorations you wouldn't guess that #299 was anything but one of the mansion's uninhabited standard room. Well, there's the guy sitting at the desk, and playing with the unbroken crinkly layer of the cigarettes in his hand. And anyway, that's an unseen prelude, nothing more. Just a second, and he'll go over the message again in his head. Then he flicks on the device, and gets down to business. ]
Just to go over this again, we didn't actually lose anybody during Christmas, did we? No permanent departures, no stray time travellers still sitting in our kitchen, or anything of that sort?
[ He pauses long enough to make it clear that the question isn't just a rhetorical bit of musing, then he goes on: ]
Well, anyway. I'm guessing somebody took notes, so if anyone's got a timeline for me, or some ghost theatre, I'd appreciate it. And, erm, that's probably--
[ about it, except not quite! ]
No, hang on. The last death. Until I know better I'll take the Marty McFly ensemble by their word. Listen, we didn't know what it was about for years, so in the future you might want to pass it along to anyone who's asking. And those who don't, just in case.
[ And now, more decisively: ]
All right, that's about it.
[ Cheers and click, there goes the transmission. And the wrapping paper on the cigarettes. ]
[[OOC: I & II. Philip is action-able during his early-as-fuck morning jog, and his move from the basement to the third floor. III & IV Replies to his info text message are welcome, but not necessary if you and/or your character don't feel like it. If for some reason characters other than the ones listed would like to receive the message by accident or hack it (for whatever reason), you're also welcome to do so. V. Replies from anybody in any form are welcome.]]
[James is typically more prone to videos, but this time text is necessary. Why? He hasn't gotten a single one of his Christmas presents together, and now he's running around and trying to get everything together as quickly as he can when he was sure he had another two weeks.]
( Here are his last-minute presents! )
[ The video feed flicks on to show two familiar but also unfamiliar residents of Wonderland. They're dressed like they've just been plucked from a war (and they have.), both donning a number of visible and not so visible weapons - worn over heavy tactical gear. Angels, or indeed anyone with great perception, might be able to tell that they're not exactly in the right time, but there's more important business to get to.
Isaac doesn't speak, he lets Tom do that, because that's what he's better at, being the social one. That's a bit odd, isn't it? When did they become close enough to simply exchange looks and seem to know what the other is thinking? Also when did Isaac's hair get so dang long and curly? It's not the same doe eyed boy who had been asking about angels and demons. When was Tom so sure of himself? When did he adopt the stance of a warrior? If he was already too easily confused with present Dean than this Tom is even more similar. Something about the shadow resting just behind his eyes and the tight clench of his jaw. Still, a familiar but weathered green hoodie is poking up form under his chest piece.
Tom addresses the network with an easy confidence he is most certainly not currently known for, shifting his weight slightly and crossing one leg over the other so that one armored foot rests on the opposite armored knee. He looks hard, tired but sharp. ]
Alright, first thing's first I need to know who else is on this mission. Sound off if you know what's up.
Secondly, I think we've all figured out by now that something weird has happened. Not that it's anything new, but from what we've gathered, Wonderland doesn't usually fuck with it's own timeline.
[He takes a small, pregnant pause and glances at Isaac. Where do you even begin? But he does, and when he speaks it is with authority and a deadly seriousness.]
We think we're here as a warning so I need everyone to listen up and listen up good. In two years time, the Jabberwocky will return to Wonderland. It will destroy everything and you will not be able to defeat it.
The closets will run dry and the mirrors will break. By year five of the war the magic will stop. People will die and they won't come back.
[Go on, take a moment to process that. The gravity of his message. Everyone is going to die.]
Our only hope of fighting the Jabberwocky disappeared with The Duchess and the Vorpal sword.
We think we were sent here with what is left of Wonderland's power. To keep this from happening, or to prepare you in case it does.
I need any and all information pertaining to either the Duchess or the Vorpal sword. I need you all to stay calm but get ready.
[He takes a breath, tongue poked up to rest behind his front teeth.]
War is coming.
[When Tom stops talking is when Isaac chimes in, naturally. It's clear that they've worked alongside each other before and from the ease of it, it seems like they might even be used to it. ]
If there are any original residents of Wonderland around, contact us, immediately. [ There's an odd forcefulness to his voice, but this is a matter of life and death, and he's to the point he'll kill countless people to keep the future from happening - kindness is overrated at the moment.
This has to be some form of last ditch effort by Wonderland to save itself. Why it had chosen them? He's not sure, but he's not going to let it be in vain. ]
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.]
I'm sorry, please bare with me. This... this is a difficult matter for me to breach.
[He runs his hand through his hair, rubs the back of his neck and finally clears his throat, sitting up a little more. He's always sort of hunched these days.]
Recently... many of us were not ourselves, however much we may have appeared to be.We were taken over, some of us overcome, by forces not of our own control or will, and these... others... they were able to see and use some of our own memories and knowledge.
I need you to understand, before I do this, that it is that which I fear may bring harm to others... more than the information I wish to share. You do not need to fear me, or have reason to do so, though it will not be.... unreasonable... that you may. But you must know I take every precaution... every care that I can to insure I harm no one. That I am a threat to no one, in so far as I can control the circumstances. And that I am working on insuring this, further.
But if something like this happens again, and that control is stripped of me. All I can do to protect you, is to make sure you are prepared for what you may face.
[His hands are clasped again, clenching and unclenching. He worries his lip with his teeth an takes a breath. This is a confession he does not take lightly and has so rarely shared with any one that it feels as if he is ripping open his chest to expose his heart for a killing blow. But the people here have enough problems without this extra danger going unknown. This place is too unpredictable to keep his secret locked where it could cost someone their life.]
I am a werewolf.
[No four words have ever been so freeing. So damning. And he is prepared to face the fall out that will come with his confession.]
[The thing with the mirrors is really freaking Annie out. The whole "writing frantically on the glass and then just disappearing" spiel is just....really weird. Even for this place. She'd even pulled the blanket off the mirror in her room to make sure that she was actually gone. Can they be gone? Can mirrors just evaporate like that? Without a word or-- or anything???!?! And the plants... just... breaking through the walls like that. Creepy. A whole different level of creepy.
If it were up to her, Annie would stay in her room forever, hiding from whatever this was. She can handle chess matches, things falling from the sky, being stuck in a mine for five days, and she can even handle getting killed by invisible demon dogs, but potentially murderous plants?? Mirrors disappearing? It's a little too much, and she's starting to reach her breaking point.
But she still needs to eat, and she doesn't want anything the closet can give her, so she makes the trek to the kitchen, armed with an axe pulled out of the closet, in case of any funny business.]
[The encounter with the vine leaves her shaky. It'd come out of nowhere and wrapped around her leg, pulled her down and while she hacked it off easily enough, she still feels queasy. Right after she'd cut the plant off, though, just for a few seconds, she felt-- indescribable, almost. Like she wasn't even in control of her own body. Like she was there, and watching someone else run things. But then it was gone, and she was left with a sick feeling in her stomach. Adrenaline rush, maybe? She's not sure. Also, her leg hurts. She's queasy and her leg hurts, because the root wrapped around it so tightly that it left a welt that's red and stinging.
She's hobbling to the clinic when it happens again. The feeling like she's been pushed out of the way and someone else is controlling her. She stops in the middle of the hallway. Or, she thinks she does, but no, she's still walking. What's happening??]
I'm in control now, sweetie. That's what's happening.
[Mirror Annie's been waiting a long time for this. A chance to finally get back at her real for everything she'd done back in their world. The other timeline. The "perfect" timeline. Pft, whatever. Perfection is the ability to take what you need with no regrets. Mirror Annie can do that. She does it all the time. Like right now.
She fixes her face into a typical "ow I'm a hurt princess someone help me" expression that her real always has and keeps on her way to the clinic, ignoring the protests in the back of her mind. It's her turn.]
[ooc: this is a catch-all for Annie! replies to section one will come from chloroformedthejanitor and replies to section two will come from callmepsycho. just specify which prompt you're replying to! <3]
James has been counting the days since all signs of Lily vanished, and he's been trying not to worry or panic. The last time she disappeared, she was back within a week. Plenty of people leave and come back in a week. It's a well-documented occurrence, so James waited on edge for an entire seven days.
But, a week has passed, and there's still no sign of her anywhere.
He's been dreading making this post, but he knows he has to. He fusses with the camera for a moment, but then he can't bring himself to look at it.]
[And then he abruptly shuts the video off. That's it, that's the whole message. Just two words to convey something that still feels so impossible. It still stings, so he makes sure it's short and to the point. He's not about to sob to the network at large, but it's the most effective way to let everyone know.]
This thing doesn’t even have any buttons. How am I supposed to call someone without buttons?
[At least, it doesn’t have buttons like anything he’s ever seen. He sounds a little more distressed than the situation probably warrants, really.]
I just figured out how to use my other phone. I even told Harmony I didn’t want a replacement, I don’t care if it’s subsidized. This thing doesn’t— piece of crap—
[Yeah, he has no idea where this thing came from - he can only assume that it was on his person before he got here. His first week in Wonderland was a headache and a half, and he's not sure the second has gone much better. He's disoriented, to say the least, and that tends to make for a cranky Champion.
There’s a low growl of frustration as he slams it against a hard surface, probably a wall or a table – and it’s only then that he catches a glimpse of the screen and realizes that he’s being recorded in some capacity. He looks momentarily bewildered, but quickly schools his expression and frowns deeply, swallowing down any potential embarrassment.
Guess it’s— it’s on, huh.
[He clears his throat softly. Smooth. Very smooth.]
I was just testing to make sure it was durable. You know. Things can get pretty rough out there. Uh, passed with flying colors, for the record.
He gets a little sidetracked along the way though. The monster creatures make him curious, especially the spiders. He lingers around, spending a little too much time trying to...communicate with them.]
[ooc: This post can act as a catch all for Souji for most of the event. If you want to tag him after the first day, when they have access to the radios, please feel free!]
Daniel springs out of a restless sleep and sits up on the edge of his bed, blinking in the morning light. It must be earlier than it looks, because nobody has come to knock him up, and he definitely asked to be knocked up at 7am promptly. He was very clear in asking to be knocked up.
They'd better not have forgotten. Might they have done? This is sort of a ghetto guest-house, if you want his honest opinion. There's not even a bell he can ring to call a servant.
Okay, Daniel doesn't have time to be annoyed by the inconveniences of rural life. His thoughts are too full of the last leg of his journey, which will be undertaken today, to the castle where he might finally find some safety -- so he stands up quickly, steps away from the bed. Lacking a clock, he just assumes he's late, and starts to undress hurriedly out of his woolen cap and night-shirt.
The network is still definitely not there, but if it were, it would probably now be broadcasting an early Victorian strip tease. ]
(( ooc: info and permissions post! [x] ))
[At first there's mostly silence and the rustling of denim, broken by the odd groan or swear- but once he's gotten a better look at his surroundings:] What the hell is this, some kind of mansion? [-he's left with only one possible conclusion, one single, (almost) logical reason why he'd be in a friggin' episode of Cribs when he'd fallen asleep in General Hospital. And he doesn't sound pleased about it at all:]
Mr. White! Seriously, this isn't funny, man! I already said I'm in, fifty-fifty. It's on, yo! You didn't have to kidnap me for it, Jesus!
[There's more muffled grunting-] ...asshole- [ and a few more minutes of indecipherable bitching before the feed cuts out as Jesse leans down to take a breather, hands bracing at his knees.
Feel free to either run into his busted-up ass as he wanders the halls, or scare the bejesus out of him by responding through the network.]
The audio function is all that has been activated, so at first the only sound is the tap tap click of his fingers on the screen. And then he noticed what happened.]
Ah, I see. Apologies, I'm not sure who this is, but perhaps you could help me, if anyone is there.
[Being from a half muggle family has its advantages. While he may not commonly use a phone, he had done so before and he understood them better than some wizards might.]
Could you perhaps tell me who this is and where you are? I believe this gadget belongs to someone else. They must have misplaced it.
[Did someone use a memory charm on him?]
But she's had a good mope, and really, depression doesn't suit her. At all. So. She clicks on her communication, puts on her biggest smile and speaks.]
Hey guys! That last event sure was-- [A bunch of people died, right? She should be careful how she describes it.] -- sucky.
Um. Sucky and awful. Anyway, I figure you guys are as done with this place and it's awfulness as I am, so what do you say we have a party? Like a small thing. Maybe an end of summer beach bash?
[Look at that hopeful smile. Don't you want to help her?]
Yeah. Let me know if you're interested! I think it could be fun, and we definitely deserve some of that.
[It's somewhere around dawn when Blake surfaces on the network. A long night has his eyes rimmed dark, but otherwise he's doing a fair job of hiding everything. Which means he'll have what he needs to let everyone know.
Addressing the network rarely comes easily to him, and this time it makes his head and heart heavy enough that he feels pinned to the ground.]
Been by River's. Looks like her and Simon went home. Checked the grounds best I could, found nothin' suggestin' somethin' happened to 'em. 'Preciate if you guys could keep an eye out, just in case. Gotta feelin' they made their escape together, though.
[If only they could all be so lucky.]
Be unavailable a bit, so if you know somethin', or see somethin' urgent and I'm not answerin', forward it on to Dean Winchester. He'll know what to do with it.
[And from here, Blake will answer any questions he gets while on his way to his room where he'll drink alone
[[OOC: Action is open to anyone bold enough to go knocking at Blake's door.]]
[ If you saw Thea when she arrived, or even during the event, you might see that she looks a lot better. At least she's making sure that she looks it. The event was pretty traumatising, not just in itself but watching someone die also didn't really help ]
People died and there's no welcome back party?
[ Or a party to deal with the whole thing. Or, if she's actually being honest, just a party because why not have a party? ]
So I'm fixing that. Though I might need some planning help, as a new girl.
[ She'd do it all herself if it wasn't for that aforementioned 'new girl' party ]
Mainly somewhere to have it, other than all over the mansion. And people to make sure the sadness is kept away. So BYOB and I'll bring the rest. [ She means the drugs. She's testing out that magic closet of hers ]
--never been that stubborn before! Jesus...
[ There is not much this feed actually offers visually, other than one corner of a rather dull room, but the voice to the side of the recording keeps going nevertheless, accompanied by the occasional rustling of pages and frequent sounds of a wooden door creaking open and shut. ]
Book. [ ... ] Will you stop shoving that in my face? [ Something flies past the screen and lands behind the bed. It can probably be identified as, yes, a book, though hopefully it has passed too fast for anyone to catch the cover. ] Where do you even get-- Actually, I don't even want to know. Empty book. Go. [ ... ] No, that's- too small, erm... Thick b-- tome. A tome with blank pa--
[ Click. And with that the feed is getting bored of Philip's search and turns itself off again. Rightfully so, because this will be going on for a while. A good while, until several failed attempts later, when... ]
( [ TO BE CONTINUED under the cut ] )
I am here today because many of you have asked me who I am. I am the United States of America. This answer has led many of you to confusion. I do not
( Today I present point-by-point answers to your questions. )
[ Filtered away from America, 100%. ]
Hello Wonderland, this is Will Graham. I'm really sorry for all this.
I just want to say I don't share any of these opinions. I only transcribed what America forced me to write. He's very friendly, and I like him, but I'd appreciate any advice on how to get him to leave. Please. I've been trying to get him to go for two hours.
I don't think I can listen to him recite the Declaration of Independence again. I'm pretty sure he's crazy. Please help. I'm running out of patriotic songs to distract him with.
[ooc; replies will be coming from both designates and ahousedivided. the original notes that America forced Will to transcribe can be found here, here, here, and here for your viewing pleasure. god speed.]
Okay, so I'm definitely not in Texas anymore. Good to know. [A pause, and she sighs. She's holding one of the welcome pamphlets that she found sitting in the library. It's promptly smashed up against her forehead in frustration.]
Dad's really gonna love this. I'll be grounded forever at this rate.
[Another pause, and she glances over at her now crumpled pamphlet. She gives it a shake, and looks completely bewildered.]
Please tell me there's a magic rabbit hole back home. I'll even take a tornado that leads to Kansas. I've just got enough to deal with without the Alice in Wonderland references freaking me out.
I would like to state, for the record, that this is ridiculous. Absolutely, completely - ridiculous.
I mean, they say that the first part of debunking a hallucination is to acknowledge its total lack of infallibility.
Besides, the whole 'waking up in Wonderland' cliché? So tired.
[ she pauses, eyes narrowing, and stares a little more intently at the camera, as if silently daring someone to challenge her.
and then she sighs, quietly, the camera panning to the rows and rows of books behind her - several of the titles in different languages - before the feed cuts out. ]
And usually Annie wouldn't mind something like that, because, whatever she can read a book or something to keep occupied, but every time she takes her shift at the clinic, it's completely empty. It's like people know she's going to be there so they don't get hurt. Well, no that's stupid, and she knows that's stupid, but... she doesn't want to sit alone in the clinic! That's weird and kinda lame, and Annie has friends, okay! She does! So, she smiles into the device.]
Hey guys!! Um, just here to remind you that the Clinic is open and I'm on duty, if you're like, hurt or something and need help. Or if you just wanna talk! I won't bite, I promise.
[She laughs, because she's funny, okay???]
Anyway, I'm here for a few more hours, so you should drop by!
If the guess was 'the demon known as Meg', well get yourself a cookie out of the cookie jar. She is back, and having herself a fit of nostalgia. Not the good kind, though. When she arrived the first time it was on the very beach she finds herself on again. Before, though, she was fit to be tied, trying to zap out of Wonderland with no luck whatsoever. Now, though...well, it's a completely different story.
She's managed to prop herself up against a nearby sand dune, looking for all the world like she's just lounging around, enjoying the sunshine. Except she's not enjoying any of this, and she's currently looking pretty beat up and bloody - not to mention blonde. If her legs were cooperating, she would probably be doing some form of her previous anger stomp along the beach, but right now she just can't. It's another cherry on the sundae that has now become her life.
Obviously, this is the best time to announce her return, and when she turns on the video she ignores the blood on her face, figuring she'll just clean it up later. In the end, who cares. Without preamble, she starts in: ]
So, who does a girl have to bribe to get a beer around here? [ Look at that, alcohol is her priority as always. The more things change, and yadda yadda yadda, whatever. She just needs a damn drink. ] I think I've earned myself about two or eighteen. Wouldn't say no to some whiskey, either.
[ Hand delivered, of course. Like hell she's going to belly crawl up to the mansion, give her a little credit here. The plan is basically wait until she's healed up enough to walk, then stumble up to the room she's learning to call home and pass out for a month or two. She's tired.
There's a pause, and she looks like she's going to say more. It's like an itch, the need to call Crowley out and challenge him, but she holds back on that. There's no telling if he's still there anymore, and besides - the longer she can go without seeing his face, the better. So, she'll just cut off the video, without so much as a toodles or a good bye. ]
So, what's everybody been up to 'round here lately? Besides events and whatnot, that is. Anything interesting? [She arches an eyebrow at the camera, smirking deviously.] Any decent gossip?
See, she has this Materia - a tiny little ball of glowy magic, courtesy of her mother - and she's managed to lose it.
There's no telling where the thing is. Usually, she tucks it up tightly in her ribbon, but recently she's been pretty distracted with the arrival of some of her favorite people, and maybe she's let her routine slide just the tiniest bit.
Whatever the reason, it's now gone and after she's turned her room upside down in her search, she figures she'll put out a message on the network in case anyone's found it. ]
I was wondering if anyone could help me out. I've lost something of mine. It's green and about this size. [ And she props her little device on a side table, so she can stand back and make a shape with her hands. ] It's not big enough to really stand out, but it's not small enough to fall through any cracks or vents.
[ She picks up her device again, sighing. In all the time she's had her mother's Materia on her, she hasn't lost it. Not like this. Especially not in a mansion that likes to throw monsters and tricks their way. ]
I'm going to look more through the mansion, but if anyone comes across it, give me a heads up?
[OOC: Just a heads up - she won't be finding it anytime soon, but everyone is welcome to help her. Also, feel free to run into her anywhere - she'll be searching high and low and through the grounds. ]
She taps a gloved finger on the desk's surface, looking pensive. It's not her usual "I have been taking notes and am now putting the pieces together in my head" pensive, but a much more uncertain, bothered sort of pensive.]
The event was exhausting, but it has brought something of personal importance to my attention.
[She lets out a breath through her nose and raises her hand to swipe some hair out of her way, pushing it back over her shoulder.]
Among the variety of people here, is there anyone acquainted with memory loss and its treatment?
[Her eyes flicker away from the camera in a brief moment of self-consciousness.]
I...would appreciate any advise I can get on the matter.
What happens if you die a fifth time?
His first solution to find the answer was only a joke when he mentioned it, honestly. It was a joke and (temptation aside) he had every intention of letting it pass that way. Only then the morning came and, watching the sunrise from the rooftop, Philip found himself typing up this innocent little inquiry: ]
Anybody feel like throwing himself off the roof five times for science?
[[ OOC: I don't have any particular plans for this post. Philip doesn't expect anybody to actually take him up on that offer and is mostly bracing himself for snark and/or objections, but any reactions are welcome! ]]
I'm back. Me and Dean-- [ "We both are." He coughs, briefly. ] I'm honestly sort of stir-crazy already, up here, so... if someone has something they're working on, like--
[ He pauses, frowning slightly. ] Experiments? [ No, that's a weird thing to say. He reconsiders, looking as if he's not exactly sure where the word came from. ] ... I dunno, some kind of research, bring it over. I'd be glad for the distraction.
Whoa, maybe she did hit her head. Abed's dreams usually aren't this.....tactile. She sits up, slowly, and tries to feel around for any sort of light. She finds her cell phone, and clicks it on, shielding her eyes from the light.
Once they adjust however:]
[She uses the light to look around and finally stands, coughing. Don't freak out, don't freak out!]
Oh god...where am I??
[It's been almost six months, her time, and she's having trouble remembering, but she looks at the cell phone again, and it hits her.
She lets out a shriek of frustration and turns the phone to video.]
Uh, hi everyone! I um. I'm back?
[That sounds stupid. Did anyone even notice she was gone?]
And, yeah, I don't-- I'm not sure where I am. I think in-- in some caves? In the tunnels, maybe?
[She pauses, looks away and then looks back, her eyes round and her bottom lip pouty.]
Could someone maybe come help me? Or tell me how to get out of here?
Pitch black and a damp, rank and entirely unpleasant smell. Darkness and a headache prickling like a thousand tiny cracks in his skull, a soreness that makes his body feel like a corkscrew of muscles and bones, all freshly twisted several times over. And if slowly returning memory serves then that's pretty close to what happened, actually.
Philip coughs and hears the dull echo of the sound, all the way up to a ledge he can't see. He starts getting to his feet and stops, when he realises that his feet (his everything, really) are still too cold and too numb to try.
Besides, it doesn't look like he'll be strolling out of here, anyway. ]
Please tell me I didn't drop you...
[ Another cough, followed by a hoarse sigh of relief when his hand touches the communication device on his belt. No cracks, not even a scratch, as far as he can feel. Either this thing survived the fall far better than he did, or it's had its time to revive, too.
He fumbles to turn it on and flinches when the faint glow of the display breaks through the darkness. It's not enough for a decent view and Philip decides against waving the device around some more. With his luck he'll smash it against a rock and end up starving here.
Instead he sends a transmission. Video, technically, though the feed barely shows more than the faintest outline of a face surrounded by total darkness. It starts with a pause, a cough and another pause, until Philip finally finds the words to get his message across: ]
Anyone's, erm, anyone's got some rope and a few spare minutes? I could use a hand.
[[OOC: Long story short, Philip was chased by a giant wolf, tried to escape into the caves and fell to his death. Three days later he's revived in the same pit and would like to get out. Feel free to mock and/or assist him.]]