The room looks like a cross between woodland cottage and a mad scientist's lab with cluttered work spaces and a bed pushed into one corner, and a curtain seemingly leading off to a second room. The image of a man scurrying about is seen, his waistcoat mustard colored and his sleeves rolled up. Glimpses of his face might show that his cheeks are red and his hair in a wild tousled state.
His attention though is on anything but the device.]
Nono! Not that. No! He isn't for you to play with!
[Scurrying after something that darts past the camera, the rich, desert-y tan of its fur brushing the device. A moment later Newt rushes by after them.]
Please, come here. I need to... figure out what you even are! Yes, Andy, I know. I wasn't asking for random creatures. I asked for a kneazle.
[Not that Andy speaks, being a pyjak, but Newt has taken to talking to the beastie while doing many of the things he does around his room. Including chasing after someone or something that definitely isn't Andy, since the pyjak has picked up the device and is playing with it now, showing many other images.
Including the teal colored stick bug clinging to Newt's back, and a small, rich reddish brown creature that is racing in circles around the bed, trying to avoid the tan colored creature.
It is in that moment that Newt notices what his pyjak is holding and he groans.]
Oh Merlin's bloody beard. Turn that off.
[Spoiler: Andy doesn't.]
There’s a couple of seconds as Mettaton adjusts the flyer so it sits perfectly on it and, satisfied, he reaches a hand back to the camera and turns it to face him.]
Hello Wonderland! It’s been awhile since I have posted here, I know, it’s a tragedy that I need to remedy more often, but that’s a problem for later. For now, dear Wonderland, I need your help. You see, in that last event or perhaps a little before it, someone important went missing. And I know some of you knew them, so I will need your help in finding them!
[He says this with a confidence that does not betray the anxiety that has been building in his soul that he has been fervently denying.]
Now I know one of the first questions some of you may ask me is “Is their room empty?” Well. Their room being empty, whether or not it is, doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that they are missing and that I will find them. Any information you have as to where they may be would be incredibly helpful!
[Now Mettaton looks almost imploringly to the camera, but of course he’d never come off as desperate, no, he’s Mettaton! He’d never potentially lose his cool like this.]
So! If any of you have information about the whereabouts of the dear and lovely Napstablook, I am all ears! I will be all over Wonderland and if you have anything at all, respond to this and let me know.
[With a decisive nod he ends the feed.]
((ooc: If you’re feeling an action thread, Mettaton can be found almost all over Wonderland feverishly looking for his dear friend, so feel free to run into his rather desperate search as he denies that Napstablook is gone. Places of note are The Music Room, the Library and probably the entirety of the Second Floor but he can absolutely be found anywhere you wish other than the Forest, which is a closed prompt.))
It seems like we talk a lot about what we had at home that we don't have here. But what's something you have here that you don't have at home?
And I mean something good, not something like "here we have terrible events that try to kill us and we don't have that at home."
For me, the thing we have here that I don't have at home is night.
He leans forward slowly. He licks it. Ew. Nope. Not food. Hmm.
Okay, back to square one.
It's not doing much but be kind of reflective, it's probably not a weapon and--
Oh! He can see his face!!!
He pulls funny faces into it happily, delighted with how he can see himself and somehow not paying attention to anything else in the screen but himself.]
I am Groot!
I think I have the gist of things. [He read the pamphlet, which was pretty helpful as a crash course.] But there are still some things I'm confused about.
[His frustration is apparent in a brief pause that follows that admission, however.]
Asking questions won't change the situation, but...can someone explain the part about time not moving?
[Because that is relevant to his interests.]
[Kayo seems a little more unsure. She’s standing just behind Satoru and trying not to draw much attention to herself. Making any kind of announcement to a wide group of people is uncomfortable, and it’s easier to just let him take the lead, if he wants to.]
...Isn’t that impossible?
[She’s quiet, but also not very impressed by the supposed magicalness of the world around them. Life isn’t a storybook and people don’t get whisked away to worlds where time doesn’t exist. It sounds kind of stupid to believe something like that just because someone put it in a professional-looking pamphlet.]
She flew erratically for a few minutes, screaming for help at the top of her lungs, before she started to calm herself down and really think. Where is she? Where is Wirt? She had “run” into him just moments ago (at least, flown into him). He’s gotten into the habit of leaving at the most inopportune times, she really needs to talk to him about that when she finds him.
Well, it’s more likely that she’ll find help in the creepy mansion than in the creepy (and also abandoned) forest. She flies to the door and realizes she can’t realistically lift a knocker (sometimes lacking arms and weighing only an ounce is really inconvenient), then starts frantically pecking at windows. Someone has to be around in this gigantic and creepy mansion, right? Hopefully they aren’t some weird people who eat bluebirds or… something else like that.
Wow, what Beatrice wouldn’t give for arms right now. She’s flying around, pecking randomly at windows and flapping her wings so hard she could create a small whirlwind. Finally, she finds an open window on the third floor and makes herself at home. She’s flying around the room, taking it all in, when the wall unit turns on all by itself. It manages to record her talking to herself like a mad
Okay, Beatrice, you can handle this. You’re just stuck in a creepy mansion in the middle of a completely unfamiliar forest where there is no escape. You’re probably going to die, but whatever, it’s not like life is that great anyway, death can’t be much worse. Oh well. That’s it, you’re going to die here, completely alone and hated by everyone who loves you. I’m sure when someone eventually DOES open that door, they will be some sort of deranged killer and they’ll try and bake you into a pie or something. Would bluebirds even taste good? WHY ARE YOU THINKING THIS NOW? I guess I could claw at their eyes?
Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Raymond Reddington.
[The introduction, like his wardrobe, is just slightly over the top. Other than that, he seems completely at ease, like winding up in Wonderland is just another day for him.]
While I have to commend our hosts on the accommodations, it seems as though the food and drink leaves something to be desired. Does anyone know where to get an above average chocolate chip cookie? I’m having a hell of a time locating one that doesn’t taste like the packaging it comes in. A good scotch wouldn't go unappreciated either.
[Georgia's sitting at her desk, dressed in her usual black blazer and white shirt, staring at the camera seriously through her dark sunglasses.]
I'm sure no one's guessed, but it's an important topic to me. In my world, the news, like everything else, changed radically during the summer of 2014 when the Rising happened. While mainstream newspapers and tv anchors were reporting that everything was fine and laughing about "hoax" zombie sightings, bloggers who took it upon themselves to figure out what was really happening. For bloggers, spreading the truth was more important than maintaining the rapidly deteriorating status quo. They risked their lives to learn how to deal with zombies, and they wrote everything down even while fighting off infection, so that more people could use what they'd learned to survive. They were the heroes of the Rising, and a big part of why we're still around.
The Rising ended over twenty years ago, but we never forgot. There's a reason I'm a blogger, and it's not because I couldn't get a job with a so-called "legitimate" newspaper if I'd tried. My generation trusts bloggers to tell the truth on their own terms, not to bow to the will of various outside powers with different agendas. That's what I'm here to bring. The truth, nothing but.
[She sits back. Her eyes are hidden behind her glasses, but her intense focus is clear anyway.]
But that's my world. I'm interested in hearing about yours. Internet, newspaper, hell, even if the best you've got is a town crier, you've got to get your news somehow. So tell me: what's your experience with the media?
[He’s doing his best to put a good face on this, he really is. Given his most recent inter-dimensional experiences, this is something of an improvement-- although all things considered, there’s nowhere he’d rather be right now than Earth, preferably with his team, although he supposes that last part is on him. He’d chosen to walk away, at least for a little while. Thanks to that decision, the first night here had been a little more difficult than it might have otherwise, but he's managing.
He’ll give Wonderland some credit. It beats solitary confinement in a parasite’s prison.]
That said, I’m not sure how I feel about a world without Wikipedia. How do you settle all the random debates that come up over breakfast without Wikipedia?
Teddy Altman, by the way. I hear I've been here before, but I don't remember any of it. Apologies in advance for that one.
[Greg is right up in the camera's grill again. Somebody needs to teach him webiquette at some point.]
I can do magic again! And I'm short! And I've got furry feets!
[He puts the camera down against something so he can show off. The height isn't probably noticeable to most people, as he's about the same height he was before-- which was already pretty short. He does indeed have furry feet, though, and with a wave of his hand, he summons some light, low-hanging fog that quickly makes it difficult to see him as he thinks of yet another cool thing he wants to show and tell:]
Oh! And I got this coolio slingshot! It's made of gold which is also a rock! And that's a rock fact!
[As the fog dissipates, Greg's tapping his chin with the slingshot. He doesn't seem to see the figure that's looming a few yards behind him.]
Hmm. Maybe I can get a baby Rock Facts Rock and bring him home with me. This is where they come from, right?
[The figure slowly extends a sneaking vine towards Greg, moving inch by inch. Greg shrugs, his mind on more important things.]
Well, maybe later. I gotta figure out what other magic I can do!
[And so Greg steps forward to turn off his device. Just as the feed ends, the viewer can see the vine creeping along the ground behind him, intent on tangling around his ankles.
WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED TO MY EARS?!
[Stan removes the hood from his outfit and sure enough, his normally gigantic ears are now...well, still gigantic but pointy. He twitches them like an irritated cat.]
Ugh, is this that...Dee Dee and More Dee thing? I look ridiculous!
[Actually...by nature of being an elf he's a little slimmer, which makes him look a just a bit younger than before. That's about all he had to say on the matter though - he's done his public whining, so he grumbles and hangs up.]
Hey everyone. Peridot already explained the setting, and I think I can explain the rest. Have you noticed everything feeling a little more... random than usual? Because the costumes, my new ears, the weapons I definitely shouldn't know how to use and sometimes do, and oh yeah, the part where I can do magic...
[He whirls around, sending some magic missiles at an injector drill. He grins.]
So. Cool. But yeah, besides the setting this definitely is coming straight out of a Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons game. I think it's from our world because this is exactly how I looked that time Grunkle Ford and I were transformed by [There's something weird about the wizard's name. Like he just can't quite remember what... ah. It's their missing word. Great. He forces out the only name he can think of in connection to the wizard, even though he knows it's not quite right. Definitely their world.] Probabilitizzle the Annoying.
So yeah, have fun! And if your actions start feeling weirdly more... random than usual? That's part of the fun. Never know when you're gonna crit fail or get a nat 38, right? Just try to keep all your HP and you'll be fine.
[ooc: responses will be coming from draziw!]
See? This is what I've been talking about! This is what I call a kindergarten, you clods. And not only is it a kindergarten, it's the Prime Kindergarten on Earth. Look at it. It's so elegant, so well-thought out.
[The camera lingers on a busted injector drill for a moment.] Obviously, the equipment is defunct now, but in its day, this place was a well-oiled machine producing gems for Homeworld. If it wasn't for the fact that kindergartens drain planets of their resources and make them inhabitable for organic life, this one could probably still produce a few more quartzes. Heh.
[She laughs, awkwardly.] - Oh! But you should see this. This is what the Wonderland creature was talking about- Ngh! [She holds the camera up, trying to get a view inside one of the holes, but it's... dark so there's not really much to see.] Look how perfect this hole is. The quartz who came out of this had to have been a brute. Also! You should all know that this is actually a reproduction of the kindergarten Amethyst was made in. For those of you who knew her, which most of you should have.
[The camera shuffles around, reminding everyone to never eat before watching a mockumentary.] It would be almost perfect as a slice of home if not for one... problem.
[and she finally turns the camera around, revealing this face, wearing something like this, though with significantly less cleavage involved.] WHY DO I LOOK LIKE THIS?! I'm supposed to be in my element. Those Wonderclods are going to pay for-
[There's an unnerving sound off-camera and Peridot looks away nervously.] Oh no... I almost forgot about them.
[all replies will come from clodcuckoolander.]
But then, if you look carefully, you'll see something very small is rolling across the table. The Dormouse is rolling so slowly that he would probably get where he's going faster if he just walked there, but he's still trying his best.
Finally, he reaches his teacup and gently bumps into it. Stumbling, since he's now both very tired and very dizzy, he climbs over the side and snuggles down inside a cup, curling up and filling the whole thing.]
Mm...a perfect hole...no angles in the exit...strong silhouette...frictional...glass alllll the way back...
[It's not glass. This is nonsense. His babbling turns into muttering which eventually turns into snoring.]
Huh. I've gotta say, this is probably the gentlest kidnapping I've ever experienced. And there's even a theme, which is a new twist on an old problem. I like captives who think outside the box! I'm not complaining! You know, makes this all a little less tedious, am I right?
[ Through the Looking Glass of all things, too! That is mainly why Bucky isn't taking this too seriously. This seems more like a weird dream or an illusion—Something he's experienced before within the literal head space of a powerful mutant. ]
Guess that makes me the latest and greatest catch, huh? Name's James, by the way! And if any ladies would like to give me a full tour around the prison grounds, I'd be much obliged.
[The feed flicks on to a shaky view of the forest. The underbrush is thick, and for a moment a hand is visible, reaching out and pushing aside a curtain of vines. Whoever is filming looks to be about three miles in.]
[After roughly thirty seconds of this, there’s a voice.]I’ve been walking for what feels like an hour. Maybe more, maybe less.
[He speaks with a disinterested Alabama drawl, but there’s a quiet, choked anxiety to what he’s saying. If he’s trying to sound neutral, he’s not quite succeeding.]
I don’t know if this thing is actually connected to the internet, or if it just looks that way, but if anyone’s...if anyone sees this and knows where I am, that’d be…
[He trails off, and eventually the sound of footfalls on dry leaves fall quiet as well. He turns the camera on himself. He’s a young man, scrawny, with wide-set eyes shaded by the brim of a baseball cap. He doesn’t look directly at the lens, his gaze twitching toward the trees.]
If this place is...where I think it is--and I mean, not too many other options, after what happened, and if there are people who can see this, I have a question.
Has anyone here seen a--a girl about my age? [He stutters, and his voice speeds up.] Brown hair, past the shoulders, doesn’t look like she’s slept in…? [He winces.] Jessica, her name’s Jessica Locke, and I need to know if she’s here.
[He starts to pace, and the camera dips lower, revealing the edge of a red stain on his shirt.]
And I guess, if you haven’t seen her, there are others, like--like Amy W█̤͕͖͙̖-- [The last name is lost in a blip of static. He continues rattling off the names quickly, like he’s gone through the spiel too many times before.] --Brian Thomas, Seth Wilson, Sarah Reid…
[He pauses. Deliberates.]
Alex Kr͔̕a̡̻█͕̣͟█̜̜̜█͓̖̬?͇͕̖̻̼̀ [Another burst of static, longer this time. Again, he doesn’t appear to notice.]
[Something catches his eye, and he tenses up. The camera drops away from his face, and the video blurs as he jolts forward, leaves crunching underfoot. Just before the feed cuts, he mutters something barely audible.]
--where it takes you--
I’ve been here for a couple of months, and I’ve talked to enough people to get an idea of how the other half lives. But I’ve still gotta ask—
Is this normal? Not the weird events, or any of the other Wonderland junk, just… This strange, stress-free way of life. Having a roof over your head, food on your plate, and no danger constantly knocking on your front door. The peace and quiet.
It’s more than most people in my world could ever ask for. But the people here seem used to it the moment they set foot in the place. Do we just have terrible luck where I’m from? Is this really how humanity is supposed to live?
[His gaze turns soft and thoughtful.]
I don’t know why it bothers me so damn much.
the closet has given me.....
a book on tape,
and double-sided tape
and a lot more kinds of tape i don't know the name of....
but i need regular tape
also does anyone know how to put together.... a book that the pages have been torn out of....
or how to.... reknit a scarf.....
[She actually seems relieved about it not being what she was expecting because...]
Honestly, given all that and given the dust, I was half expecting some sort of curse or something else that made everything worse.
[Don't get her wrong, she's glad it's not, but still.]
Seems like that's the main thing you science types do anyway. I mean really, I tried to make my own way home a while back and you didn't see any of this happening. Still think that bit with everyone floating a year ago was one of you too.
[She hadn't thought about it in a while, and didn't care when it happened, but now that she's thinking about science stuff, she's decided it bothered her.]
Not to mention that text asking about portals a few months ago, really, you don't see those of us with magic making a giant mess of everything on the regular. Can't blame you for trying to find a way out, but please, try to make less of a mess in the future. Sure the rest of us would appreciate it.
[Look, she is trying to be a better person about things, but tact is still not her strong suit. Sorry Wonderland.]
hey, uh. has anyone seen a cat?
[He rubs the back of his skull.]
not a talking cat or anything. a regular one. black fur, one bent ear. kinda moody. answers to 4, usually.
[He sounds pretty neutral, but he can't quite stifle a quiet sigh.]
lost track of him during the event. we got cornered on the third floor and he, uh. got away from me. he's been through worse events, so i'm not too worried, but he just...usually turns up by now.
[He's quiet for a bit, staring away off camera.]
if anyone's seen him, please let me know.
[ooc: the cat is fine and will turn up on his own unharmed, unless someone wants to find him first.]
Yeesh, that's high up. It'd be cooler if it was on a cliff, though. If I was gonna have a castle, I'd put it on a cliff, so it could be all imposing and get struck by lightning and stuff. ...I mean, okay, I know this is more of a palace than a castle, but still.
[There's a pause, then a sigh.]
C'mon, Mae. You can't stall forever.
[The video turns around and reveals the face of the person recording. It's a cat girl! Only significantly less anime than some might expect. She's got blue-black fur, crazy orange eyes and a somewhat mangled right ear.]
[She smiles kind of weakly at the camera.]
Heeeey, so you've got like, FaceTime here, huh? Cool. Uh, so. I'm Mae? I don't know what I'm doing here? And I looked at some of the older posts on here, and I guess that's like...normal? Which doesn't really make me feel much better. It kind of actually makes me feel like I just woke up in an insane asylum. Mae's finally in the nuthouse! Right in the can of mixed nuts. I think I'd be a cashew. Which I guess isn't even a real nut, so.
[It's like a legume or something. Anyway.]
I read that--pamphlet thing? About dimensions and alternate realities and sci-fi horror movie crap. That's cool and all, but I think I'm just gonna treat this whole thing like a really effed up dream for awhile. Just, like, for the sake of my sanity. Okay? Okay.
Is there a pizza place around here at least?
Greetings, Wonderland and a good day to you. After the recent event with the space station, I found myself still in possession of a rather delightful creatures called a pyjack. I can't help but be curious if I'm the only one that found myself housing a space creatures.
Actually I'm curious about any creatures any might be caring for here in Wonderland. It is rather my area of expertise and I'm curious if any would be willing to let me observe and study their pets and creatures that I might continue my work here. Thank any and all for even considering this.
Which leads me to my second point today. In studying my pyjack, I've learned that they, or at least this one, seems to have a desire for obtaining bits and pieces of technology. I've no idea what most of them go to not having a knowledge of what most consider modern and advanced technology. If you're missing anything of the sort, there will be a basket outside of 926 on the ninth floor. I do apologize ahead of time, and please feel free to let me know if you are missing anything and I can try and check around for things.
Again, thank you all for your time.
[After he's gotten the basics down and gotten over the initial culture shock, he'll make a test transmission over the network. It sounds like these people are under attack fairly often. It might be best to get a sense of who might need someone to look out for them when things go bad.]
So I spend my whole life dreaming about getting out of a small town only to move into a place that's even smaller. I'm pretty sure that's irony. So, hey, I guess. I'm Jason Scott, new inmate.
We're all stuck here together though, right? Some of you have been around for a long time, if the rumors are to be believed. I think that's long enough to be homesick. So maybe we should talk about it. Share stories from home. See how weird this could get.
Talk to me about where you're from. Is it small like this? Are the city people adjusting well enough?
I'm not a bad listener, if you've got stuff you need to get off your chest.
I need help disassembling my fort - well, what's left of it - if anyone wouldn't mind. And I'm looking for advice on how to train a wolf.
There we go, the tablet should be steady now…
[Turing takes a step back and you can actually see them this time! They’re wearing a brown beret and a smudge of paint is on their right side of the system. Looks like they’ve been painting.]
Hello again, Wonderland. Adjusting to this place has been…difficult, although I have the feeling that this is a normal reaction to newcomers. I have taken a look at the network, specifically at previous network posts of people that are and were here, and it seems that this is the most common reaction for people just settling in. Nevertheless, I have tried to set a routine for myself. So, I’ve been painting again! I’ve missed doing it, and I’m both eager and anxious to show off a few of my pieces to the network.
I have so far created three pieces, two of which pertaining to the previous two events. I hope that you will be able to view these pieces with an open mind.
…oh, and I should also mention: don’t expect anything photorealistic. That’s too simple and not at all thought-provoking for me. I take a more abstract approach with my paintings. Without further ado…
( [Turing starts to pull out three paintings.] )
Every year, I wish spring would just go ahead and really spring already. [She kicks in frustration at a pile of dirty slush, sending up a wet spray toward the garden flowerbeds.]
I guess it happens just like in the book, right? The card soldiers come and paint the roses red? But then what about all the other flowers?
They come up too, sooner or later... but it's kind of funny, I've never seen anybody planting them. [She wonders aloud thoughtfully, perhaps just longing for someone-anyone to talk to. Dustin's gone away, and she's restless as heck!] My dad writes for gardening catalogs and stuff, so I know how it's supposed to go. You'd put the bulbs down in the fall, and after the last snow melts, they all start to pop up. Crocuses, then daffodils, then tulips...
[She tilts the camera up wistfully, panning over the early-spring grounds. It looks like a really excellent season for mud pies, out here.]
My parents promised we'd plant something soon, at the new house, but I could be waiting around here for that to happen forever.
So what do you think? I want to start a part of the gardens that's just for me. With snapdragons and lupines and lots of pretty, colorful stuff. It's probably already too late to get started, but without a good project to start on, I think I might go a little nuts waiting for the weather to turn nice.
[There is a reason he chooses to use an audio only medium for this. While Regis is ordinarily very gregarious, there are certain topics in which it is best that others do not see his reaction to what they say.]
What do you believe makes someone - or something - a monster? It may be a simple answer, or perhaps not so simple. I lean towards the latter.
Out of curiosity, how many of you have been to different dimensions, not counting this one? Alternate worlds? Other parallel planes of existence? Or... engaged in any form of time travel, for that matter. How did you do it? Was it even on purpose, or by some fluke?
I myself spent three decades adrift in the multiverse. Fascinating stuff.
[PRIVATE TO FIDDLEFORD & STAN]
--We need to dismantle the portal in the basement and we have to do it as soon as possible. I can't just let that thing sit around being dangerous.
Fiddleford and I should be able to take it apart with no problems, but Stanley, since you did push to have it built in the first place I thought it was only fair to tell you what I want to do.
[There's a brief, awkward pause, and then...]
I've hurt enough people with my recklessness.
He rocks on his feet before climbing up on the edge of the fountain and balancing there, hands out at his sides. Standing still is hard for him. He's not looking at the feed, which wavers as he holds it in one hand, but he knows it's recording and addresses the network.]
What do you do when you can't sleep?