assistanting: (Was all you were needing)
[personal profile] assistanting
Friends, Lannisters, Countrymen from the multiverse, I am delivering to you an extremely important message: the Baelish have been in the basement far too long. It is time for us to reclaim the Ball Pit that was once ours.

(Seriously, I want to see these guys out of my stupid ball pit. If anyone else from any family joins in, you'll get extra rights to come visit, or whatever.)

Just look at this like a matter of pride - we Lannisters aren't going to take this are we? A Lannister always pays his debts where I'm from, so don't you tell me you're all too cowardly to make a move.

Oh, and, House Baelish? Consider this war. Watch your backs. I don't care how many children there are, I can still murder you in your sleep.

[Filtered to Greyjoys]

Yo, pirates. I know you're still not making me your first mate or whatever (thanks for nothing), but can you help me get the ballpit back? It's kind of important to me.

[Filtered to Victor Frankenstein]

Hey, I know your creepy lab is in the basement. Join us and we'll get it back for you along with the ballpit.

[Filtered to Crowley & John Blake]

The Ballpit was there for you in your time of need. Consider being there for its time of need.

((hey friends this is the start of what is apparently becoming the Great Ball Pit War. i'll get a log up over the weekend for actual stuff, but anyone who wants to join in at all PLEASE DO. you can hit me up on plurk & aim if you need too, they're both on the taken page.))
akapeanut: (Are you fucking serious?)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[The camera switches on to the sight of a (slightly distorted) image of a goldfish. It blubs in its plastic bag for a moment before it lowers out of sight, revealing a bemused-looking George.]

I caught this. At a game at this fair. And I ate some balls that I think had octopus in them. Meanwhile fake-ass people are screaming in the hospital on the third through fifth floors and, like, half the mansion is a tree.

Also one of my events is getting a replay. Sorry about that.

[She glances up, but it doesn't seem like the toilet seats are active here. Which is part of why she has been reluctant to leave again.]

My point is, uh, there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason for what things are happening, here. It's totally random. Which I guess is what you'd expect here, but. I can tell you guys for sure that the falling shit is an event of mine that already happened, at least. Which probably means these other ones are repeated events too...

[She hesitates. She'd been hoping something would come up to tie these things together, which is why she held off on saying anything, but so far nothing has revealed itself as a sort of logical pattern to what's happening. So she has to ask:]

You guys think this is Jabberwocky related?
low_key_angel: (no good)
[personal profile] low_key_angel
[The video opens to a pair of grinning archangels who have, by the looks of the empty bottles behind them, been busy for a while. Gabriel grins at his name twin.] So. Beach blanket bingo was fun, but me and other me think it's time for a more adult party. Booze is mandatory. Pants? Totally optional. [Wink as he defers to the second Gabriel.]

We're just not the sort to require so many layers and formality. We want you all to just be yourselves, let it all hang out.][There may or may not be some sort of suggestion to that statement.] Bonfires and Balls are fun, but we Archangels know how to throw a real party

[A toast to the darker haired Gabriel.] Damn Skippy we do. Learned most of my best moves at Odin's keggers. Festivities start at the bar, courtesy of the lovely Jo Harvelle. The after party is a little more private and a lot more fun.

[Toasting in kind and after a quick swig he'll add on his line.] The after-party is for anyone curious enough or willing to let themselves really go wild. There may or may not, [Complete with a hand teeter-totter] be nudity. At that point I'm hoping we're all too drunk to make good decisions to say for sure what might happen. Where's the fun in planning out every detail?

Planning is for suckers. Unless you're planning on nudity. In that case, plan ahead and be on time. Consenting adults, demons and.. whatever else might be up for a very interesting night. Sound off if you have questions, otherwise we'll see you there.

((ooc: Please mention in the subject line which Gabriel you might want to harangue. log post to come soon!))
belaying: (» ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴅᴀʏ ɪs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀ)
[personal profile] belaying

[When he closes his eyes, it's for a catnap on the canapé in his cabin, between his shifts at the helm. The storm the night before had left the whole crew with very little sleep and he suspects he isn't the only one that will be catching a few moments while they can, but for now, Cotton has it for eight bells unless something unthinkable should happen.

When he opens them, it's most certainly not the ceiling of his cabin he finds himself looking at, and most certainly not his canapé he's reclining on. Instead, the sunlight filtering through above his head is far too clear and clean and bright to come through the panes of whorled glass in the cabin. The air is filled with the papery smell of books, and when he sits up, both booted feet hitting the floor, he realizes because it's some sort of library.

A thorough search of the room leads him to a pamphlet, the pamphlet leads to to his heart rate slowing to something more its customary pace, and the lack of hearing his own thunderous pulse pounding through his head - along with the unclenching of his stomach, where it's turned into a hot ball of dread sitting heavy and hard - leads to him thinking far more clearly, and he becomes aware of a weight sitting in his waistcoat pocket. From it, he withdraws nothing but a black rectangle, and for a long while, he simply stays where he is, perched on the edge of a couch to move at a moment's notice - if need be - and puzzles it out. It is, of course, like nothing he's ever seen, and experimenting leads him to a nonsensical series of moving images and voices that, once he pays attention, are nothing so much as questions he himself has been asking silently to nothing but dead air since the pamphlet, though perhaps phrased in a way that at first makes it seem like so much garbling.

And that's how he ends up here, on the network, after much trial and error and realizing he, too, can somehow shout out into the void and hope that perhaps he isn't alone, despite the worry he isn't. The pamphlet itself has been clear enough, but that doesn't mean it is enough. Not enough to explain why he's here, when he should be in the cabin of the Pearl. His expression is open enough, touched with slight apprehension, and it rings genuine, despite the fact that he's been sitting here for at least an hour, composing his message in his head and schooling his face to be just so.]

I find meself at a bit of a loss, as I understand it be fairly pointless to demand to go home. [For now.] And this Wonderland nonsense means not to me. [It wasn't a location on the map...He doesn't think, damn Jack Sparrow's hide.]

So, p'raps in the interest of sating me curiosity...Be there something I am supposed to be doing, then, other than bringing up the general class this place has so thoughtlessly left out.

eventheirvoice: (Commanding)
[personal profile] eventheirvoice

When her scaly blue face shows up on the feed, it's clear something's up. Her normal cool, calm demeanor is gone, and her usually perfectly-coiffed hair is sticking out in a few places. She's somewhere outside, having abandoned her room a long time ago. She is livid, and has been for a very long time.

If there's one thing Mystique knows, it's when someone's in her head. And someone's been in her goddamn head since yesterday. A few minutes, she can tolerate. She'll let it go. Maybe snap some necks for it, but she'll move on with her life. But hours upon hours of it? Unrelenting? Nothing but sadness and regret and so many other annoying emotions? Being forced to relive a memory she'd thought been forever buried has definitely done nothing to help her mood, so with this on top, she is not having it.

She breathes hard, teeth bared. ]

I know one of you is in my head. I don't know why, but I'm giving you ten minutes to get out. That should be enough time to give you a head start before I find you.

[ Whoever you are, she will look for you, she will find you, and she will kill you. Figuratively. Literally, if she can get away with it. ]

Your time starts now.

action )


Feb. 4th, 2015 10:58 pm
stoptheviolence: (pic#7284289)
[personal profile] stoptheviolence
[It was kind of like the last time]

[Except when the chair turned around...]

[...there was a doll sitting where Brittany normally would. It wasn't moving. It's facial expression never once changed. There didn't seen to be anyone else in the room, either, which left a question as to exactly how she got there, who moved the chair and how was this video being recorded.]

[But as a wise man once said: just think to yourself, it's just a show. You should really just relax.]

And we're back. I think. It's really hard to tell when you can't turn your neck.

[It was definitely Brittany's voice. Except the doll's lips weren't moving. And, after a sudden cutaway scene, she was sitting on the bed, resting against her pillows. Because all this wasn't creepy enough already.]

On today's episode of The Big Comfy Bed. Repressed childhood memories.  The questions we were all too young too ask.  Like...just who was Raggedy Ann, and how come she and her brother had the same first name, but different last names?  

Discuss. Telephone lines are open now.


Jan. 14th, 2015 06:16 pm
breakthecurse: Smile - Charlie Chaplin (You'll get by)
[personal profile] breakthecurse
Um...excuse me, but...has anyone else been having difficulty with the closets?

[Tohru is in the diner's kitchen, looking very uncomfortable to have to ask about this.]

I was trying to pull some equipment from the closets and...well...

[She bends down to pick up what the closet keeps giving her - a flintlock rifle. She's not holding it correctly at all, but she looks like she's terrified it might go off at any moment.]

I...I-I don't think this is something I can actually cook with. [Obviously not.] All I wanted was a candy thermometer--!

[Yes, poor Tohru had grand plans to try and make homemade marshmallows for the first time, with an American recipe she had found, but this is the sixth gun she's managed to pull from the closet, and there's also a small pile of 3D Maneuver Gear in the corner.

She very, very, very, very carefully sets the gun down on the counter and takes several steps away from it.

...A-Anyway! I was just, I was this something that's been happening to everyone?
eventheirvoice: (Ignoring)
[personal profile] eventheirvoice
[ What's that you may see there? Why, a bored-looking mutant! The communicator is perched on a nightstand and aimed at just the right angle to catch Mystique sitting on her bed in her full lizardy glory. She's not happy, if you must know.

Sure, she's no stranger to waking up in strange places, but after poking around on the network and getting the basic gist of things (i.e., she's screwed), she resigned herself to her fate and went to pick a room. But instead of quiet brooding, her device decided it was time for some amateur video action. How nice!

(She'll hate herself later. She likes to think she's the paragon of knowing technology. It's not supposed to get the best of her.)

So there she sits, observing her hand blandly. For a brief moment, nothing happens. Then a ripple spreads across her skin and it's a human hand. Then it's blue again. Next her arm is human. Blue again. Eventually, she's fully her human doppelganger. It's faint, but there's a small sigh of relief.

What's prison life if you can't do what you're best at?

Mystique lazily switches back to blue normalcy and gazes out of her window. Trapped, hmm? And in a mansion, of all places. She doesn't like trapped, seeing as she's yet to meet a trap she can't get out of. But! Sometimes there's nothing to do but accept the existence of people craftier than her. ]

Hmph. Touché.
glumshoe: no just something in his eye (is your social worker in that horse?)
[personal profile] glumshoe
[ This is an inauspicious start to the New Year.

Considering the tension since last event, where Will sat side by side with the friend he'd roundly denounced to Ned and, for lack of a better phrase, sat pretty while most of Wonderland's residents tore themselves apart, his and Ned's lack of communication is nothing out of the ordinary. The few times they did speak afterward were short, in the public eye, not betraying their respective secretkeeping but definitely not delving into just what Will's behavior was all about.

Still, pies continued to be delivered, baked dog snacks came. Nothing seemed irreparable, even if it didn't seem good. Will thinks it's about time he cleared the air, and sends word ahead so that, in true introvert form, Ned can prep himself for another intense, likely protracted talk.

In private. Will clarifies one text later, Will your room work? It ought to, Will's headed there.

Except, stepping inside, Will feels a certain inevitability come to pass that he maybe should have picked up from Ned's lack of response. Barren walls, stripped furniture. Like Ned's prepared to move but where the hell would he go? Unless Will's gone strictly on the verboten list and isn't in the perky pie party that gets the new address forwarded to him. But in the unlikely event that Ned is the kind of man that would leave someone behind, well. Then he wasn't who Will thought he was.

Hey, little guy - or, girl.

[ he says wearily while the English spaniel raises a cautious nose to the air. Something like her owner. A soft whine sounds. ]

Yeah, I know.

[ Not Ned, but Derby tolerates a newcomer a little bit better than the piemaker, even though she'll be missing Ned. She wouldn't be the only one. The notion dawns on Will to open a channel to the network while Derby occupies herself with skirting Will's immediate proximity. ]

It's been a while since I addressed the network.

[ "Addressed" here is an accurate term; accidental nighttime shows don't count. ]

But for those of you that knew him, Ned, our resident piemaker, has disappeared.

[ Yes, that piemaker from the diner on the eighth floor. Those of you who share the obsession with his baking have suffered a great loss, but don't let that blind you to the greater loss of Ned himself. ]

This might not mean anything, as for recent departees who've wound up right back here, I'm among their number. But I wanted to let Ned's friends know before search parties were sent abroad. Particularly a - Tohru. I'm afraid you'll have to find a temporary hire in your diner.

[ Will gets the dog, sorry. ]
akapeanut: (Uuuuuhuh)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[She's died four times. Not counting back home. She can't fight-- she shouldn't. But even if she tries to avoid it, it might still happen.

The fear outweighs her sense of uselessness.

But the uselessness is still there, so she tries to think of ways to be helpful. To keep people alive who have more chances. Who aren't going to just chip away at what they are like she apparently might. Assuming things aren't already too fucked up and everyone'll just die for good...]

Can we try and keep a headcount? I mean-- of people who are over here. Who's been forced to switch? Has anybody voluntarily gone over? That sort of thing. Just so we can keep track of, uh, of what we have to work with.

[Or something.

Having made this post, she returns to working on stocking up supplies near the barricades and in the tunnels. Hopefully this actually matters.]
eatsyourscience: (to tell about those woods is hard)
[personal profile] eatsyourscience
[Welcome to a feed of the diner, where Souji is standing behind two pyramids carefully constructed from cheeseburgers (there's also a plateful of Christmas cookies, but they're shoved off to the side because Mansion made those, not Souji). He's looking at them in bemusement, as though he's only just now realized just how many he's actually made.

He's wearing a pale pink apron that probably actually belongs to Tohru. In the background, he's already dragged out the Colonel and decked him out with a Santa Hat and string of lights.

After a few seconds, he shrugs and looks at the camera, noticing it's on. Well, that decides it.]

I'd like to propose a trade. [As though this was his plan the whole time.] A cheeseburger for a Christmas gift idea.

[OOC Note: Souji will be about 5 due to cookies from 12/13-12/15. I'm including a top level catch all thread for anyone who wants to interact with him during those dates. This will probably be the only time he'll ever be shorter than most of the other residents of the Mansion.]
jivitadana: (> ♪ Repente...)
[personal profile] jivitadana
[That nightmare was... different. Not new, as the stuff of nightmares was something Minato was used to. But different. He had been taking a nap at his desk while working on testing something. Something had been bothering him for a long while already, and it would be a way to distract him from thinking about the dream. The nightmare was the sign of something to come. Like those event announcements. He would just be prepared for it whenever it came.

Thus once he was ready again, he began writing, solving this math problem, then the next math problem and others like it.]


[Done. Answers checked out. But what about something... simple?]

42 - 17 = ______


........ What's forty-two minus seventeen?


[Blank. How could he not know this? Something had to be wrong. (And it isn't cheating to ask the network!)]

003; Video

Dec. 9th, 2014 12:19 pm
awesomemix: (pic#8166863)
[personal profile] awesomemix
[Is Peter going to have to be the one to say it? Have a shirtless Peter Quill you guys who may have been sleeping off a drunk.]

...What the hell was that and why the hell was it here?

I mean really? Is that one of you? Fess up now okay because that wasn't cool.

Or if it wasn't does anybody want to fill me in?


...did you see it? [someone sounds unnerved]


[Wow this is really loaded]

You okay?
luckynumberthree: Fond, (Default)
[personal profile] luckynumberthree
[It's been over a week since Simon had spectacularly screwed himself over here in Wonderland, at least in regards to his closest friend, who was still not talking to him. Or otherwise acknowledging he exists. Which is probably still better than shooting him in the head, but either way Simon's still ended up with more time on his hands than is ever considered safe or wise, in his case.

Still not feeling overly social, his time at the bar's been a little sporadic. Instead, he's thrown himself into a project he's been mulling over in the back of his mind now for months. Which is what prompts this afternoon's unexpected broadcast.

The feed opens up in a bright room somewhere in the mansion with Simon dressed in simple workout clothes. Which are hard to miss since that combination of neon orange and lime green are rather... eye-catching. ]

So, the training center we have here in the mansion is pretty awesome and epic and a great place to ogle some really hot people beating the crap out of each other at any hour of the day and night. But not all of us are superheroes and can fly or punch holes in mountains or some shit, so I figured I'd use some of my experience back home to make somewhere a little less... extreme for some of us normal people.

[Which is when he lets the video feed pan around to the room he's currently in. It's a bright gym set up with a variety of fitness equipment and weights, surprisingly neat and orderly and obviously something he's poured a lot of hours into over the past week or so.]

It's not much, but it's right across the hall from the training room, down on the first floor and it'll be open all the time so anyone can feel free to use it whenever. I'll be around randomly to show people how to use the machines, if they want. Wasn't sure if we'd start getting winter weather soon, but if we do, I figured someplace not covered in snow might be useful for when I want to run. So yeah. I'll... let you get back to your regularly scheduled madness now. See ya, Wonderland.
thepointisdolphins: (and the most terrified)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley is chuckling even as he starts his post.]

Delusional and dangerous, he says! I daresay the good Dr. Lecter believes we're all idiots. Which, to be frank, is an accurate assessment. A man named Hannibal Lecter shows up in Wonderland and somehow we all just accept it. He couldn't possibly be the Hannibal Lecter of the movies and books, could he? And yet how uncommon is it, really? In the course of my year here, I've come to realize that we, all of us, are a fiction to someone else. In some other world, our lives are just a story.

Maybe that's just too difficult for some of us to accept. Makes sense, I suppose. No one wants to go through more existential crises than is strictly necessary.

[His grin vanishes.]

But it's the truth. Hannibal Lecter is Hannibal Lecter, and that's all there is to it. He has murdered several people here. And considering who he is, I don't think I have to spell out what else he might have been doing. One of the people he killed is a friend of mine. I said I would find who did it, didn't I?

[He smirks again and ends the feed]
avoirfaim: but then i got high (i was not gonna get caught for murder)
[personal profile] avoirfaim
[It is a rare moment in his life where Hannibal is in something akin to a impotent rage. It seems those moments come with more frequency here in Wonderland, as he keeps tabs of all the wrongs the Dutchess, the Queen of Hearts, their whole entourage of masturbatory miscellany have done him. He'll find a way to get back at them, and when the moment comes he will strike.

This is a little different.

How does one seek vengeance against a demon? Therein lies the question. The first step is, of course, exposure. That he can provide in spades. When he makes the connection he presents Wonderland with the genuineness of his offended rage--the only strong emotion he can recall with familiarity--behind the lens of composure. ]

Good morning Wonderland. I have had enough professional experience with the criminally volatile to know that even when there is no police force present, it is best to expose unlawful and uncalled for behavior as a warning to others.

I was attacked last night, by one Anthony Crowley. I wish I could say that it was without reason but unfortunately, he had a reason. His reason was merely an inability to parse reality from fiction, or the choice not to. I should not have to continue to to validate myself against unfounded accusations. You should all know it is my professional opinion that Crowley is either delusional or, as is more likely, a highly effective demon, and not to be trusted. More than that, he is dangerous.

This may be my last communication through the public network for some time, though of course I am always open to private inquiry.

[ Private to Will, Private to Evelyn, two separate but identical messages ]

I could use your company, if you could spare it.

05 Video

Oct. 22nd, 2014 08:22 am
sheriffwolf: (Default)
[personal profile] sheriffwolf
[Bigby sits down in a ratty looking old lounge chair, cigarette smoke swirling around him. He looks directly into the lens of the camera and leans forward, his elbows on his knees. He looks determined. This isn't an accidental video. He's taking a bit of a gamble making this a public message considering it's contents, but, he figures it's the best way to get as much support as he's going to need.]


Some of you might know me, but for those that haven't met me yet I'm Bigby Wolf. Back home I was the Sheriff of Fabletown. Basically, I was the beat cop, investigative detective, and interrogation specialist all rolled into one. When you're a police force of one you gotta learn to be flexible.

Anyway, I know some of you out there have law enforcement backgrounds. I also know there's some crazy shit going on around here that we just can't seem to get on top of before Wonderland throws us a fucking curveball that puts us out for a week at the least.

The point is, I'd like to put together a Wonderland police force. We need to pull all of our resources together. I'm not just talking about looking into the mad riddles or searching for the sword. There is shit that happens between us while we're living in this jar that needs to be investigated properly without people flying off the handle and taking matters into their own hands.

We need some sort of central office where if something goes bad, people know who to turn to for help. If you're interested, or know of a matter you need looked into, drop me a message. We'll set up a meeting and then run it from there.
wordvomit: so sit the fuck down, pal (let me explain you a thing)
[personal profile] wordvomit
[Well into October, Ned starts to feel grim
A reminder of Autumn's old pang eats at him
The leaves changing colors, red, yellow and brown
Serve to bring the resident Pie Maker down
But what is the reason? you ask, mildly wary
A dislike of ghosts, or something more scary?
Perhaps a less silly approach, if you please
Halloween's on its way, and the facts are these:

When Ned was nine years, thirty-four weeks, seventeen minutes and four seconds old, he received the one and only postcard he would ever get from his father while attending the Longborough School for Boys in North Thrush. It came on Hallow's Eve, a holiday ripe for the picking by children decked up as witches and warlocks, ghouls and goblins - but the only thing more terrifying than the idea of whatever mythical creatures might be lurking in the dark was the pre-printed message on the back of the postcard: We've moved.

Young Ned tracked the origins of the postcard to a small house in a pleasant neighborhood, bedecked with festive decorations and Jack-O-Lanterns. Dressed as a ghost in a sheet he sought to ascertain his wayward father's whereabouts and, hopefully, come home. But what emerged from the little white door in the front was not a welcoming party, but his father with two new sons and a brand-new wife, preparing for an evening of Trick-or-Treating.

The last thing Ned's father said to him was a genial Happy Halloween as he handed the boy dressed as a ghost a Honeycomb Chew and walked away with his family - for the first time that evening Ned felt as though he were one with his chosen costume.

...okay. So. I didn't want to have to make an announcement, but since there's been an increase in requests for...thematically seasonal pies, I'm putting up a list outside the diner and on the network.

[The list itself reads, in perfectly legible script:

Chess Pie
Pecan Pie
Apple-Cranberry Pie
Tart Cherry Pie
Dutch Apple Pie
Triple-Pear Pie
Sweet Potato Pie
Maple Cream Pie

Observant residents may note that pumpkin does not appear on Ned's list, as he is vehemently opposed to everything that it stands for. Out of frame a dog whines, and the Pie Maker stoops to pat Derby on the head before continuing.

I know we have the- uh, capacity and ability to have all kinds of fresh fruit year-round- [And not just because he can touch dead things and bring them back to life.] -but it's kinda how we do things at The Pie Hole,' I'm doing them here. I also know it's pretty easy to ask the kitchen to give you a slice of pie, but I thought I might offer lessons in case anyone...wanted to learn. How to bake.

[There is a long, awkward pause before he decides he's had enough social interaction, and cuts the feed.]
akapeanut: (You're a stupid fucking stupidhead)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[At least this time she's intending to make a video. Not that people are probably all that thrilled to see where she's recording, considering what happened last time. George is leaning up against some shoddily connected boards. She sits staring at the camera for a moment, clearly hesitating to speak. Eventually she manages a weak laugh.]

Didn't think there was much point in keeping this in the notebooks anymore. Doesn't...seem like it'll work, after all. Sorry to anybody who was trying to help me, but. But I think we were all kinda aware it wasn't gonna happen.

[She bites her lip against the heat in her cheeks.]

I just. I. To be honest, I...

[Insert music video here] )

005; video

Oct. 3rd, 2014 10:56 am
strategisch: (researching)
[personal profile] strategisch
I have a question for everyone here.

[Armin picks a book up off his desk, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll, and shows it to the camera.]

It's about this book.

A long time ago, when I was wondering about the origins of Wonderland, someone referred me to this book. Since then, I've read it several dozen times, and I've gotten a handle on all the different characters and their counterparts here in our Wonderland. But I still have trouble gathering anything useful from it... To me, it's just a bunch of nonsense.

This book does not exist in my world, but I know it exists in others. So many people come into Wonderland with prior knowledge of the setting. So I'd like to ask them-- or anyone else that's read the book-- what is it about? Is there anything in there that we could use that I'm not catching? For example, is it written in code, or does it have some sort of underlying meaning?

I'd appreciate any feedback you can offer. It would help me out a lot.

[Some time later, he adds as an edit:]

I've come across a few new questions-- Why is this Wonderland so much like the book, but not exactly the same? What came first, Wonderland or the book? If the book did, how did it influence this Wonderland? And why does it only exist in certain worlds?
radiopalkiller: (what happens when you realise)
[personal profile] radiopalkiller
I. The Vendors [ACTION - OPEN!]

[ If you ask Philip, then the only real thing of value he left behind on the other side is his gun. Easy enough to replace, or so you'd think, but the closet is having a difficult day, and anyway, the kind of ammunition he is looking for probably warrants a trip down to his favourite masked creeps either way.

The trip will be a quick one, but anybody in the vicinity might still find him silently pondering over some of the available models, or scribbling down part of his special order on a slip of paper, to convey it to one of the merchants.

II. The Bar [ACTION - OPEN!]

[ Once that errand is done, Philip heads up to the bar. He pulls his copy of the Resistance Notebook from his pocket, and sets it down on the table. It still works, for all he can tell. Pretty useful information on Real versus Mirror codewords too, though he's past regretting that blunder.

All that's left to do is smooth out the aftermath. Philip doesn't want to draw that kind of attention to himself, let alone be questioned beyond what he'd offer freely, but there are people he owes- people he promised that kind of effort to. Not the entire network of bored readers, but...

Philip turns the pen between his fingers for a while, and finally starts to write:


Fifth Death

Process took five days after moment of death, exact timeline of events unsure. Took place in location comprised solely of bright light1. Similar to appearance and sensation of light near Core room, potentially same place. Confronted by Queen & asked to choose between "fueling Wonderland" in death, or resurrecting for a small price2. Chose the latter. No side-effects or further memory loss observed to date.

★★★★✩ - would recommend with caution

1Non-corporeal experience; dead body never moved to my knowledge.
2Non-monetary. Exact nature likely varies between individuals.


[ Philip's final stop for the day is the library, specifically whatever rows have currently decided to house the Languages & Linguistics section. He will browse there for a great deal of time, lugging around an increasingly sizable stack of books.

Eventually he will drop his haul on a nearby table, transfer it neatly into a cardboard box, and carry it up to his room.
pig_and_pepper: ({ Don't talk about trouble! })
[personal profile] pig_and_pepper
[ At last the Duchess appears on Wonderland's screens, but the feed looks strangely faded, as though it was recorded before it was sent. She stands tall in the entrance hall, and on the floor her little piglet playfully scurries between the frayed ends of her dress. In her hand she holds a familiar blade, the very Vorpal Sword itself. ]

I know, I know! You have missed me, you have missed me for too long. I forgive your insults, all of them, and I confess it, I have suffered by myself as well. One is company, two is a piglet, but three... three and so many more is a community, and I shall take my own moral to heart!

[ She lifts the sword with both her hands outstretched, as if offering it for all of Wonderland to take. ]

You crave this, I know. I shall see if you have learned your lesson truly, while I was away. Solve my riddle, prove your moral character and wit, and you shall find me, and be greatly rewarded! Now. Listen well, I shall only say it once!

[ The Duchess clears her throat and begins: ]

1. I am the First of seven, ɘuᴉu to ƚƨɘllɒɯƨ ɘʜƚ ɯɒ I.
I last nearly half of eLeven, in darkness by starlight I shine.

2. Infinity guides my paths true and blue,
but gaze hard and I run closer toO.

?. For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
And so should yOu, to love things so far north.

087. At last I come without pRize, but not without cost.
The moment you seek me you've already lost.

[ When she has finished speaking she only smiles knowingly. The image of her flickers and vanishes, but a quiet melody still plays for a while, until the transmission ends for good.

Those who respond to her words will receive no reply, and those who seek her in the entrance hall will not find her.
But her riddle still remains. ]
wordvomit: probably not, I was nine at the time (did I ever charm you like this?)
[personal profile] wordvomit
[It has now been six months, one day, one hour, and twenty-three minutes since Ned first set foot into Wonderland's kitchen.

That is six months, one day, one hour, and twenty-three minutes too long a time spent away from home, The Pie Hole, Chuck and Digby. Six months, one day, one hour, and twenty-three minutes not solving cases with Emerson Cod and deflecting the aggressive sexual advances of his eatery employee.

Too long without any scrap of contact, which Ned craves but holds at an arm's length, an extended period of time adjusting and re-adjusting and adapting more rapidly than he was ever meant to, more than he can properly manage without help. These days he feels stretched, like a layer of pie dough rolled out too thin.

The increasing number of people informed of the details of his gift has only served to increase his anxiety. Somewhere along the line, someone will slip up. It is only a matter of moments, seconds, or minutes before the likeliest scenario, in which Dean Winchester casually remarks to another resident that he knows a guy who can touch dead things and bring them back to life, brings the weary excuse for a life he has here crashing down around his pigeon-toed feet.

Oh- no, no, come on-

[But until then - until then - one can find him on his hands and knees in the kitchen, a hand extended under the table, holding a dog biscuit. The pup in question has speckled feet, a speckled nose, and a bemused expression as it contemplates the Pie Maker's generous offering before edging out from under the table and accepting both the treat and a pat on the head.

Ned looks inordinately pleased with himself.

Where'd you come from, anyway?

[He suspects that the cupboards pulled him a fast one when he asked them for dog shaped cookie-cutters, and instead gave him an actual dog. No collar, no leash, and therefore no name, so when Ned reaches for the communicator he left on the floor he finds himself a mite disgruntled that it appears to have been broadcasting this entire time, but at least reassured that others might have gotten a glimpse at the (evidently) lost canine.] anyone missing a dog?
akapeanut: (You're a stupid fucking stupidhead)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[Although she's had some help from people who signed on for building duties in her little venture, George has been learning a lot of the ins and outs of ship building on her own. In small pieces. In the tunnels.

Okay, so, like, if you're going to build a boat to try and escape and you don't want mirror people and the Queen of Hearts to fuck with it, you've gotta do it in a place they can't see, right? And the tunnels don't have mirrors. Awesome! But they also don't have enough room for a boat big enough to carry a dozenish people. Goddamnit. So here she is, building small pieces of the boat with intentions of, on the day they set sail, gathering everyone up to drag the pieces onto the beach and assemble them as quickly as possible.

Needless to say, this isn't going especially well. Which is probably why the video turns on to the sounds of a hammers and power tools banging interspersed with bouts of loud cursing and creaking wood. The image doesn't show much of what's going on, just some wooden pieces and the bottom half of George's legs. After a few minutes, though, there's a loud, wet crunching sort of sound just barely audible over the sound of a powersaw, and the legs tense up. The powersaw turns off.]

Godfuckingdamnit all to HELL!

[She lets out a muffled shriek, stomps her feet a little, and then whirls around, marching over to the--]

Of fucking course it's on.

[She sighs and picks up the device, aiming its camera at her face.]

Hi. I'm fine. Just. I'll be heading to the clinic in a few.

...Do you put a severed finger in milk or is that just for lost teeth? Well, fingers...

[Uh. She's gonna end the feed now.]


Aug. 31st, 2014 03:17 am
stoptheviolence: (pic#7284138)
[personal profile] stoptheviolence
[A young woman sat by the campfire, surrounded by wagons. Surprisingly impeccably dressed--simple, modest, yet functional--for one who had spent all day traveling. Her eyes were slightly glossy as she stared into the flames.]

[After a time, she begins to sing. (Because, of course, what could be more appropriate in the moment than an impromptu musical number?) A soft melody that drifts into the air, echoing amongst the night sky for any close by to hear:]

Do you wanna die of typhoid?
Because it's here to stay
We've got the wagons all hitched up
But never stop to wash a cup
Until our health, it fades away
We used to be so healthy
And now we're not
I wish you would tell me why
Do you wanna die of typhoid
It doesn't have to be of typhoid....

smilethatbites: (a grin fit to split your face)
[personal profile] smilethatbites
[The Cat is lying on its stomach, its paws aligned in front of it, looking like a tiny lion with a large grin.]

You are on an hypothetical journey. You come to a river.

[It raises a paw to cover its nose and very little of its smile, listing to one side as it gives a hissing laugh.]

Shishishishi, do you ford the river?

[Shaken by its own laughter, the Cat overbalances and rolls onto side.]

Shishishishishishi. Or perhaps float across?

[The Cat rolls onto its back and then onto its other side without pausing. It's smile is a little slow to follow, but it catches up after a second.]

So much to decide on and such a long journey ahead of you.

Shishishi. I hope you don't get cholera.

04 Video

Jul. 17th, 2014 09:01 pm
sheriffwolf: (Default)
[personal profile] sheriffwolf
[The video is a bit grainy but it seems to be the shot of a desk and an ashtray filled with cigarette butts. The air is grey, smokey. Whoever this is, its clear they're chain smoking heavily. This, of course, means the video can only belong to one person.]

For the record, I have never been a teenager. So whatever the fuck that was about was new to me as much to everyone else.

To sum up:

No, I never was a part of a gang.

No, I never went to a bunch of schools, or attended a school, or anything that most normal children do.

Yes, my Father is a giant prick but no, I'm not going into detail because it's really not all that interesting.

On the bright side? At least you didn't meet my real "teenage" self.

Private to Mary Margaret/Snow )


Jul. 17th, 2014 04:09 pm
eatsyourscience: (that is enough of your shenanigans)
[personal profile] eatsyourscience
[In light of recent network posts, Souji's a little hesitant to claim ownership of that last event. He hesitates on screen for a minute, looking off to the side before his eyes flicker over to look into the camera.]

For the record, the speed dating went a lot better here than it did at home.

[He rubs the back of his neck, not quite embarrassed and not quite apologetic, then shrugs. It is what it is. No need to feel bad about it.]

It was kind of nice to see home again.

[He's been away a long time.]
akapeanut: (Rewind for me)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[So maybe she'd waffled about how to go about this for too long, but, well. She had reasons to be cautious! And not just because if she pissed Hector Barbossa off by picking the wrong crew, he might throw her overboard and lose her her last life. This was a big deal regardless, and she really does want to figure a way out of here. Even if she isn't sure she herself wants to go back.

And that's one of the things the resistance members would want, right?

And presumably the resistance has been, like, vetted for trustworthy people?

And hey, she did work at a temp agency. She has some idea of how to write a help-wanted ad.]

Resistance Journal Entry )

[Having done this, George tucks her journal into a bag and heads down to the beach to take a look at where they're headed, possibly. If anyone signs up. She sits in the sand for hours and, the more she thinks about it and corresponds with interested parties, the more uncertain she becomes. Especially since just looking at the waves is making her seasick. Or maybe that's just anxiety.]
anomaliiiiies: (065)
[personal profile] anomaliiiiies
[The first thing one sees is Jane's face, her mouth pursed, as she sets her little phone up to record, then walking away to a whiteboard, as pure as snow, before picking up a dry erase marker. Glancing over her shoulder, Jane smiles at the camera.]

So, hello, Wonderland, I'm Doctor Jane Foster. I'm an astrophysicist with training in particle physics. You've probably seen me outside at night studying the stars or in the library. I'm working on a map of the stars and attempting to figure out for certain if this place is really a pocket universe or else a shared illusion. I'm edging more to the pocket universe theory since it's a bit simpler, and more probable. But it could also be a shared point in all the multiple worlds we're from. That's a really interesting idea that somehow there is something in Wonderland's makeup that makes it a commonality to all worlds. [she lapses into science babble, drawing a lot of elegant equations in neat handwriting on the board, the marker squeaking, before she pulls herself back together to speak at the device still recording]

Okay, so my question is, has anyone else wondered about how the various worlds match up even with the differing time-points from each world? And of so, will anyone be interested in a group to discuss findings? I'm also interested in any research or observations on hos this place works, and not just depending on the library for that. I like first person observations, please and thank you.

[Jane leans over to click off the broadcast with a smile of SCIENCE]

[ooc: I will be slow with replies until this afternoon]


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