possiblymad: (Charisma)
[personal profile] possiblymad
[Look at that, he's on the network and not under the influence of an event. That's a rare sight to behold. He's no longer hiding and he has an inquiry on his mind.]

Greetings fellow unwilling... and perhaps willing inhabitants. Allow me to pose a question to any and all willing to answer. But first, I must clarify something. The definition of a lie is an intentionally deceptive statement. The intention to mislead or deceive. A falsification or a fabrication. Put simply, something untrue.

Now, many of you are aware of who I am and of what I am capable. Others may know just my name and the implication it provides. Fewer still actually recognise my face or the sound of my voice. [Yes, he's talking to you, dear. Fandral, honestly. Lovely, intelligent, but so gullible.] For those of you with that knowledge, fear not. This is in no way malicious. I have no hidden motive or deceitful purpose save for the slaying of my unyielding boredom. Truth? ...or a lie? [He smiles somewhat knowingly, but doesn't provide an answer.]

What I wish to ask is, for those of you with such self-righteous morals, is there any here that can claim not to be guilty of a lie? The answer to that is a simple 'no'. Lies take many forms, be they malevolent or innocent. Withholding the truth or altering it, both qualify. Omission of truth or using the truth to paint a different picture are both still considered deceitful.

Lies are not only used for ones own benefit. They can be used to protect others. Tell me, would you lie to save a life? To save the lives of many? I'm curious just what would be the breaking point?

[He raises an eyebrow, inviting an answer just before he ends the feed.]
humanities_greatest: (;Jᴜᴅɢɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴇʏᴇs)
[personal profile] humanities_greatest
[The feed comes on to blue eyes, tanned skin and blond hair. A hallway is passing around her and it's obvious she's walking while she's recording.]

It has come to my attention that there might be a significant concentration of supernatural creatures living among us. While having your lot running amok is dangerous, it's not as troublesome as the ideology some of you seem to hold.

Let's be frank. Mortals have no reason to expect any form of sympathy from the Devil and I don't expect that to change. Humans are weak and for reasons only God knows humanity has been cursed to suffer the waves of powerful monsters for decades. Unfortunately for you fiends, Wonderland does not respect the order of things you are accustomed to. Let me remind you; beasts, who ever brought us here thinks no more of you than they do a mortal. You have been stripped, you have been put on the same level as the humans you seek to rot. That being said, whatever animosity still lingering towards mankind should best be directed at your captors. After all, it was not a church that imprisoned you or a horde of hunters. It was Wonderland and its masters.

[She comes to a halt in front of a door with the number 160 labeled clearly upon it. Before she proceeds, she turns back to the camera.]

Demons in particular are powerful creatures, I won't deny this. Holding onto old grudges won't get anyone out of here... unless your powers have been taken from you. Is that the case? Have you been stripped of your wings, monsters?

[A gloved hand comes up to knock on the door just as the video feed cuts.]
goesdown: (I thought I was using me to get to you)
[personal profile] goesdown
[ Crowley's dark wings loom dangerously behind him and not much of his surroundings can be see in the video, but it's probably hard to pay attention to the wall behind him when there's a livid angel on the screen.

His face is tense in a way few people have seen during his time in Wonderland. He's not annoyed or frustrated. He's angry.

John Blake is dead, but at least one of you already knew that, didn't you?

[ And, oh, is he going to teach them a lesson. ]

If you know anything useful, do share with the class.

[ OOC: All network responses are welcome. Action responses from demons will probably end in severe damage from Crowley, so if that's your bag, let's discuss it OOC first. If you would like your character to interact with Crowley about this after the event is over and he's a demon again, I will direct you to his IC contact post or you can just mark the thread as such here if you're concerned about it counting for AC. ]
thepointisdolphins: (but y tho)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley is talking fast, like he wants to get all of this out of the way as quickly as possible.]

Right, okay. Seems there's an event on and it looks to be one of mine--well, mine and Aziraphale's.

Since the lot of you seem to be mad enough to think oh, yes, of course we have always been sodding great angels and demons, all I can say is this--please do try not to bring on the Apocalypse this weekend. This isn't Earth, remember. No real need for mass destruction. They never wrote anything about Wonderland, understand?

On the off-chance that anyone out there hasn't, er, changed...I would advise you to keep your heads down. It'll be over soon enough.


Ang--er--Aziraphale, I daresay it's time we start barricading the doors. Sooner than later.


Jul. 24th, 2014 03:07 pm
thneedifestdestiny: All Gone to Hell - The Lonesome Trio (It's a cold and rainy day)
[personal profile] thneedifestdestiny
Uh. ...Hey.

[The Once-ler is on the screen, awkward as ever. Though, he seems considerably better than he did the last time he spoke on the network. He's had more time to adjust to Wonderland, and to being around people again - to being around people that either don't know about the horrible things he did at home or have actually forgiven him, which is just...an unfathomable thought to the Once-ler.

But he's on the network now and he has a bunch of...colorful, furry, knit things in his arms. Bright red and pink and orange and yellow and purple. One of the sleeves is being tugged by a mischievous little pig off screen. The Once-ler seems pretty uncomfortable though, and it has nothing to do with what Boris is doing.

So, um. I've been meaning to do this for like, ages, but I just...I dunno. I misplaced the words, I guess.

[He shrugs, and shifts so he can hold out one of the knit things so people can actually see what it looks like.]

This is a Thneed. [Normally this is followed by a long pitch or a song but noticeably there's nothing like that accompanying it.] I was...I sold them here a while back, but I'm done with that. I don't want them anymore. I was gonna just chuck them out, but...thought I'd ask around, see if anybody wanted one. Otherwise, they've gotta go.

[The truth is, he can't stand looking at them anymore. He's keeping one for a sadistic sort of sentimental value, but he needs to just get rid of the others before he drives himself crazy.]

They're actually kind of cool - they can do pretty much anything you want. [It's a weak pitch though. His heart's not in it the way it used to be.] So...if anyone wants one, I've got a whole bunch of them. No charge.

[He ends the feed with that note. He'll be up in his room for once (Tenth Floor, room 398) and any Thneeds that aren't claimed will be left around the mansion in random places where anyone can take them, like hanging from chandeliers or keeping suits of armor warm. Anywhere, as long as the surplus of them is out of his room.]
breakthecurse: Smile - Charlie Chaplin (When there are clouds in the sky)
[personal profile] breakthecurse
Um...excuse me?

[Tohru has been debating this post for a very, very, very long time. She felt very strange when she woke up on Friday, but it wasn't until she saw all of the flocks and herds of animals that something really felt off. Given how crowded Wonderland is, it wasn't long before people were bumping into each other and Tohru was having heart palpitations. It's her event.

It's the...the curse! The Something Curse! She can't think of the name and it's not coming no matter how hard she tries, but it's the Sohma family's curse! And she swore she would never, ever tell anyone their secret! But...

...But there are a lot of people unaffected by the event and worried about their friends and loved ones, who are suddenly animals sometimes. It doesn't feel right to withhold that information, and she's still not really sure what she's going to say, but...she feels like something needs to be said. Like she needs to claim responsibility for the event somehow, as though she made it happen on purpose or did something that forced it to happen.

H-Hello. Ah...my name is Tohru Honda and I, um, well...

I think...I think that maybe this event. It might...I-I think it's from my world. I'm really sorry, everyone!

[She turns off the camera very quickly after that. People can reply to the video OR she's also available for action in the diner.]
embellishing: (amused)
[personal profile] embellishing

[The camera focuses on an amused looking Eames, who is standing in a hallway, looking over both of his shoulders at the mirrors behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, censors himself, then tries again.]

I’ve never been one to mind mirrors, but this might be a bit much, even for me. Is this the work of someone with uncontrollable vanity or is the wallpaper really so terrible?

[He would have thought he was dreaming, but his totem was shockingly real in his hands. He had ruled out kidnapping seeing as how there had been no one to gloat about his predicament when he had awoken nor did he believe he had managed to be killed and sent to some weird after life. But he wasn’t ruling out that this was some sort of elaborate prank. Whatever the case, the reasoning would sort itself out and until then he was going to enjoy the free food and board.

Then, having made his decision, he shrugged, smiling faintly at the camera.

Well, I won’t kick up too much of a fuss if there’s a decent drink in this place.


So far I've seen a fair share of the interesting aspects of this place, but I'd rather not experience the bad. Any words of warning? Other than standing too close to the closet and thinking of pole vault poles. Got me square in the gut, that.
thepointisdolphins: (evil is just a name for my side)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley seems almost jovial today! Yeah, sunshine and rainbows and puppies and shit! Except there's something quite a bit forced and false about it. If the rather unsettling grin didn't convince you of that much, what he actually has to say will clinch it.]

Humans. Really, what a joy you all are. Such clever, creative, busy little bees, always thinking up such interesting little ways to harm and kill each other. I've thought it for years now, but you lot don't need any help from my kind at all, do you? You've got everything under control. What was it Shakespeare said? "Hell is empty and all the devils are here." And him all of three hundred years ago.

I suppose if Wonderland is meant to be a sample of general humanity, it's no wonder that there are a couple of truly horrendous examples here. Oh, I won't name names. I don't have names to name. Not yet.

[The smile completely disappears and he leans closer to the camera. And for a moment, the Crowley that Wonderland knows, all snark and banter, is gone. His face is expressionless and the sunglasses look less douchey and more like empty black pits. There's a very faint reddish glow behind them. Just for a moment, you could believe that there really is an actual demon in there, full of Old Testament wrath.]

But you know who you are, and you know what you did. I do hope we have a chance to meet one of these days--I'd love to shake your hand. People have lots of extra chances in Wonderland, but even in this place, one way or another, everyone pays the piper eventually. At least I intend to make sure of it.

[And then the moment is gone and the smile is back in place, completely false.]

Thank you for your time.



Apr. 14th, 2014 02:41 am
thneedifestdestiny: Somewhere Only We Know - Lily Allen (Keane cover) (So if you have a minute why don't we go)
[personal profile] thneedifestdestiny
[Eventually, the Once-ler makes it into the mansion (though he spends a considerable amount of time outside where he first arrived in the garden, marveling at everything around him). He finds his old room and all of his stuff inside, but it feels too crowded to him now. So, the first thing he does is gets rid of all the clutter and all the things he doesn't need until more than half the room has been emptied out.

He sets up the camera on one end of the room and stands kind of awkwardly in front of it to film his message. Instead of his usual attire, he's wearing an over-sized green suit - which is old and tattered now, as though he's been wearing it for a couple of years.

So, uh. I'm back. I guess.

[Well, this is going swell already.]

Look, I'm going to make this quick. I just want know if someone's here. He's orange and furry, about yay tall- [He has to bend down to gesture how tall, which is apparently not very tall at all] -and he's got this mustache. He's the Lorax, and he used to be here once. I just...

[He frowns a little, trying to find the words. His shoulders fall, and it takes considerable effort to shrug them.]

...I was just hoping maybe he turned up again, that's all. If anyone's seen him around, let me know.

[He quickly moves to shut off the camera after that, as if he's a little sick of the spotlight already.]
squeakyslate: (Default)
[personal profile] squeakyslate
[ What a wonderful day, Wonderland! Not only is the sun shining, not only are the trees and flowers sprouting the first hints of their bloom, no! The snow is finally gone, and all across the grounds the grass is luscious and green and- and moving. Rustling. Shaking with all the force--

With all the force of a standard-size hammer. Being dragged slowly up one of the Checkerboard Hills. By a standard-size lizard.

'Bout time, 'bout time, heeeeeere we goes now. [ That's awfully poor manners, talking with a mouthful of hammer! The lizard quickly lets go of the wooden grip, and smacks his jaw a few times. ] S'cuse me-- [ He sticks out his tongue, and rolls it back in. One last smack, and he's finally looking mighty pleased with himself. By lizard standards, anyway. Probably. ]

That's all better, right it is. Keep back there, ye hear me? Don't nobody come over snoopin' while Bill's at work; don't want ye lot go tumblin' over me tools, or wander all 'round and go get nails stuck up yer foot, or watch yer step none and get a plank to yer head, or tumble over me tools, or tumble me tools, me-- Me tool!

[ A speech so moving, it's even gone and moved Bill's hammer to slide all the way back down the grassy slope. He follows it flailing, tail and limbs all waving about, until the grip is back in his mouth. Mumbling with a mouthful of tool he makes his way back up the hill. ]

Me too late, eh? Eh? That'll be the day! Gots here just in time, I did, gonna make it look just right on time! "Bill," I says to me own self, "Bill, go on, make the Queen proud"! And lookit, here. I. Am. Right on the dot, all right on schedule, all in a day's work that is. You lot, don't ye worry none, I'mma fix it all right up, right on the dot right on schedule, right in a day's work, right... right... left... right, right again, don't wanna get a prick of me own nails, ha!
boyhood: (→ the Never-Never Land is gold)
[personal profile] boyhood
I. Every boy needs his hideaway. )

II. audio;

    [Speaking of invading people's personal space, it's time to play a game called "Where's Waldo Pan?"

    The young boy some mansion residents might have met under a number of different appearances and by a number of different names hasn't seen fit to make use of the network until today. Regardless of whether he personally enjoys it or not, an avenue of communication is a resource, and luckily he's talented at figuring out puzzles even if he doesn't understand them at first, like the devices.

    There are no accidental button presses or phone misfires when Peter Pan's audio feed clicks on, though it might seem so at first. For the first few seconds, there's nothing but the sound of movement, hinting at a device being carried by hand as clothing rustles.

    Then a dog barks.

    Where is he, Wonderland? That's your first hint.]

    It's so quiet around here now. Such a shame when a child goes missing, more so than pets. Such a loss.

    [In case you weren't sure that was a dog you heard, there's another canine yip, closer now, followed by a soft, muffled whump whump of rhythmic movement. Someone's petting the dog's head.]

    You're looking lonely. Miss your friend?

    [Something comes close enough to bump the receiver: unmistakably a dog's nose, huffing curiously and excitedly. Peter's tone turns amused.]

    As trusting as your master, aren't you.

    [The feed cuts.]
no_nonsense: (Do you want to hear the end or not?)
[personal profile] no_nonsense
[Susan wasn't the sort of person who liked to make a fuss on the network. This was not to say that Susan didn't make a fuss about things, quite the opposite really, but she didn't like her fussing to be Public. In this one, singular instance, unfortunately, Susan's problem required a bit of a...community touch.

She wasn't happy about it, the asking or the necessity, but there was nothing for it. A network post was required and, as such, a network post she would do. It was worth it, in the end, if it helped her solve her problem...and it was far faster than putting up posters.

For those of you who haven't had the (debatable) pleasure of meeting or speaking to the Duchess of Sto Helit, her appearance might seem a bit odd. Not more odd than sentient suits of armor, of course, but everything was relative. Today, as every day, Susan was clad in a prim, quasi-Edwardian outfit and had her hair pulled back into a tight, unforgiving bun. Unlike every day, however, she was making an effort to look pleasant.

It wasn't really working.]

Alright, now that the excruciating nonsense with the armor and Clicks is through, and everyone's back in their right body, I...require assistance.

[Right, pleasant. Susan put in the effort to smile and look worried. She did the latter far more effectively than the former.]

That is, I need help.

During the commotion, I seem to have lost my pet and I've been unable to locate him.

[Susan held up a notepad with a crudely drawn picture on it. Art was clearly not her strong suit.]

This is approximately what he looks like.

[That's odd. What sort of creature is that?]

He is smallish.

[Well, that looks like a black bow...but the rest of it looks like--]

His name is Rocky.

[A rock.]


[Yes, it was definitely a rock with a bow on.]


[Susan stared at the screen after that last bit of information and just remained silent, daring anyone to comment. If she was telling a joke, she had the best straight face that had ever been or was ever likely to be. A long moment passed and Susan continued.]

If anyone sees him, I would be grateful if they would let me know. He's rather quick when spooked, but responds to his name. He can be lured with bits of colored chalk and guitar music.

(OOC: Feel free to respond to this post as a network entity or with an action thread below. Susan will be wandering around, holding bits of colored chalk, calling for a pet rock. She will be nearly anywhere in the Mansion, so have at.)
appealingavarice: ([choleric] blood on my hands)
[personal profile] appealingavarice
Well. I would say I knew where this one was from, but what's with the screens?

[That was the first day. By the second, Greed's kind of wishing he hadn't even wondered. Still... At least both the images- the one with the one-armed girl he doesn't recognize, and the one with the chimera he definitely does- are confined to a single place. And he doesn't even get tired, so there's no need to go back to his room at all. For any reason.

He will make himself a little scarcer at night, though. Wouldn't want to look like he's hiding from something, just because he kind of is.]
manicuredangel: (Irritated)
[personal profile] manicuredangel
[The sun shone through the window onto Aziraphale’s face and roused the angel from his light dozing. He blinked open his blue eyes and sat up, fumbling for the communication device to check the time, accidentally flicking on the video feed in the process. Viewers are treated to the view of Aziraphale’s extra disheveled mop of curly blond hair, entirely bare torso, and a bit of ruffled white wings with black speckles behind him.]

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

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

[No response except for the shift of fabric.]

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

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

Mffggfffllllssssssstime ‘zit?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...Why is that light blinking?

Hmm? What light?

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

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

[ooc: Aziraphale and Crowley.]


Jan. 4th, 2014 08:08 pm
breakthecurse: A Better Son/Daughter - Rilo Kiley (And your mother's still calling you)
[personal profile] breakthecurse
Hello, everyone! Happy New Year!

[It's a few days late, but it's a good way to say it to everyone at once. There's a little pink polaroid camera hanging around her neck, and she holds it up right away.]

I hope everyone had a good Christmas too, or as good as it could be under the circumstances...ah, I found this camera in my stocking though! And I was thinking...well, after everything that happened, or is going to happen, or might happen...I thought it might be good to have a picture of everyone who comes into Wonderland!

[And then, she holds up a photo album!]

Souji was kind enough to give me an album for all of the pictures! Ah, thank you very much again, by the way.

It might be useful if anyone goes home, or if anything bad happens. That way, we'll have pictures to remember everyone by. I know there are people I've met here who went home that I wish I had pictures of now...

[People like Ruby, and Aerith, and Kougyoku, and Kirigiri, and that's only naming a few.]

Anyway, I think I'll keep it in the diner, in case anyone ever wants or needs to look at it. But first I need to fill it up, so...everyone, could I please take your picture?

[ooc: We can either thread it out in this post, or you can come over here to handwave it, or to clarify anything that needs to be clarified. She will be asking everyone from now on though (since it's not really just for her anymore), even people she doesn't know well, and the album post will always be open in her journal if you want your character in it. ♥]
thinblueline: ([±] lurky mclurkerton)
[personal profile] thinblueline
Unnecessary information about the man behind the curtain... )

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

Secret Santa Gifts For All
(Just announce yourself.)

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

So that all those interested in participating (here's hoping that's everyone in Wonderland) can be accommodated, threads will be short and limited to gift requests and receipts (unless by request, so feel free to PM). All efforts to uncover the identity of the mystery Santa will be met with resistance, but if you want to plot something out, PM me and we can discuss that, too! Have fun~]]
digophelia: (I didn't sleep too well last night)
[personal profile] digophelia
[How are you doing, Wonderland? Good? Okay-ish? Wonderful! The would-be duplicate Alice is currently pacing about her room which is a nervous tick she developed long, long ago. She likes a confide space, ironically, so a room of her own is fantastic. And spacious compared to her last. That is, if anyone can ignore the fact that she's actually not the most tidy person around.

Alice has done away with her previous blood-stained (or soaked, rather) blue pinafore dress, her trademark appearance. All that's left for her is a very Victorian nightgown, that seems almost scandalous to be in without any sort of robe, but Alice can only do with what she's has for now. Sadly, it's been something more than she's had in years, too.

She tends to be very restless when worked up and stressed. It's not even the walkers from beforehand, it's much more simpler than that.]

I very much would like if I had something other than what I have to barter with those vendors outside of the mansion. I was considerably lucky to convince at least one woman to give me what I have now.

Why would they require a currency- no, this is the land of nonsense and the inconsistent. I shouldn't ask such things. Perhaps if it's not too bold to ask... may I have assistance finding better garments?

[Alice pretty much plops her dress out of her hands, grateful that the blood is dried.]

After that I am not sure what else to do.
thepointisdolphins: (enjoying the century)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[There's something Crowley's been wanting to try for awhile now. Since he arrived in Wonderland, technically, but mostly since a moment in the library last month when he noticed that his demonic powers aren't quite...up to snuff here in Wonderland. There's a certain something he misses quite a lot from his world. What better way to test his limits than to see if he can pull it out of the firmament in Wonderland?]

[So now there's a car sitting out in one of the courtyards.]

[Not just any car, either, but a sleek 1926 Bentley, polished to a shine.]

[Sadly for Crowley, at least, it's not
his Bentley. The color is wrong, for one, this one a sort of forest green. No bullet hole windscreen transfers, no tapedeck, no Best of Queen tapes sitting in the passenger seat. Worst of all, the entire process of manifesting the car was utterly exhausting, moreso than it should have been. Crowley's used to being able to bend reality to his will, and the fact that not only can he not do that anymore, but that the best he can do is produce a sad mockery of his own Bentley--his baby!--have left him feeling rather glum.]

[The feed comes on to show Crowley sitting on the ground with his back to the car, cigarette poised at the corner of his mouth. He's also bundled up in a wool coat and several scarves because it's bloody well cold out and he's nigh-on coldblooded, thank you very much.]

[He lets the camera take in the glory that is the Bentley before speaking.]

So, would anyone like a car? I've no real use for it--just a depressing reminder that my real Bentley is still at home, really. It does run at least, though I'm honestly not too sure how well it runs without--you know--proper roads.

[He shrugs and takes a long drag on his cigarette.] I could see my way to putting together a carport, if anyone's actually interested in this thing. [He jams an accusing thumb in the direction of the green Bentley and sighs.]
cowhouse: (so there.)
[personal profile] cowhouse
[IS THIS THING ON? First actual network post is go, here's to hoping it doesn't broadcast into the ether!

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

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

[A beat, and then:]

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

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

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

He turns back to grin at the camera.]

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

[Aaaand he cuts the feed there. Time to try these suckers out... For quality control purposes, you understand.  He'll be around for a while, though once his lungs get tired of the abuse he'll probably be stretched out on one of those couches and cranking that dope sound system way, way up.]
appealingavarice: ([choleric] fearful)
[personal profile] appealingavarice
[Well, this... isn't what Greed had expected. It looks like a prison, but it's definitely short on the whole "being locked in" aspect. Shame about the sudden sense of absence that he's beginning to recognize as full mortality, but at least this isn't like a mineshaft. Anywhere meant to house large numbers of people there's bound to be a decent amount of food, and when Greed flips on his little radio device it's while he's in motion, looking for the kitchen.]

Hey, whoever's in charge of this place, I've got a complaint. Stop taking away my Stone. It's really getting to be a pain in the ass. How's everyone else doing?

[It's not much longer before Greed rounds a corner to come face to face with a couple people who are very strange-looking, which Greed takes in stride, and who immediately try to grab him, which he really doesn't.

They also don't seem to understand that being forcefully smacked around means you're supposed to stay down. Seriously, this event really is bullshit. Maybe he should just let the prince handle this? He doesn't know what's going on with these things any more than Greed does, but at least he's got more experience in being human...]

[[ ooc: Threads not immediately following on from this scenario are welcome as well, this is something of a catchall post for Greed/Ling! ]]
righteously: ([Neutral] Oh SNAP)
[personal profile] righteously

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

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

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

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


[Sort of a generic, broad greeting.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that said, he cuts the feed.]


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

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


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

This is a mingle log! Please feel free to make use of the sub-threads, tag around, multi-person threads promote holiday togetherness, all that good stuff! The invitation is nice and broad, so everyone is welcome! Happy holidays! C:]
seekingbrother: (herp derp)
[personal profile] seekingbrother
[People may have noticed Al being rather busy today, though his chore is...somewhat curious. Hauling buckets and sometimes wheeled tubs of water out to an open stretch of grass near the checkered hills. He's certainly working up quite a sweat, but what is he up to?]

[After a few hours of this any observers will find their answer, as Al pulls out a slip of paper and after a curious flash of light...all that water turns to snow. No, it explodes into snow, the fluffy white particles flying up into the air and falling down to earth in unorganized heaps as the young alchemist laughs, pulling his hood over his head to avoid any making its' way into his clothes.]

[Soon enough he's piling it up in formations--without alchemy this time--and it's fairly obvious he was just impatient for winter to make its' way to Wonderland. There's a good amount of snow littered around since Al figures someone else might want to join in on the fun, even if it is likely to melt away by evening. So, what're you waiting for?]
lowkeyangel: (☀ annoyed)
[personal profile] lowkeyangel
[Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.

Or out. Gabriel's been sort of keeping to himself after getting his mind back. While the other guy had never really taken over, he'd spent plenty of time talking. He'd almost gotten tired of his own voice. Luckily, that tragedy had been averted by the ending of the event, so he's able to click on a feed from where he's sitting on the mansion grounds. The phone's on the ground, and in the other hand is a decent-size slingshot. Laying next to him is a good stack of sock monkeys that scream in mid-air — who are, in this case, ammunition.

But he's taking a break from getting sock monkeys on the roof.]

So, what did we all learn from having a bunch of crazy people in our heads? Anything good? Secrets of the universe, lottery numbers, colors you look better in?

002 | Video

Nov. 5th, 2013 04:50 pm
notthesecondworstfighter: ([Project] watching)
[personal profile] notthesecondworstfighter
[The video clicks on, and he looks a little hesitant, which is maybe a bit odd given his appearance and high tech armor, but Wash has always been a little awkward. It doesn't help much that he still doesn't really know anyone around here, but that's at least part of the reason he's appearing on your screens today, Wonderland - he's looking to socialize. ...Sort of.]

Uh. Hey there. This might come off as a strange request to some of you, but I figured broadcasting it like this is the best way of actually getting some responses, so.... I was wondering if there were any of you out there that might be interested in doing things like sparring, or combat practice, or... anything along those lines, really.

[To be honest, now that he's more adjusted to being stuck here, he's been pretty bored when there's nothing ridiculous or dangerous happening. What better way to fix that than to get himself something to do, search out some people to spend some time with? There's a shrug, but he seems to gain a bit more confidence as he goes and thus presses on.]

I don't know about most of you, but that's normal, everyday stuff for me, and after all the craziness lately... I guess some normal sounded pretty good. [He smiles a bit awkwardly, and though it can't be seen through the visor covering his face, it can be heard in his voice.] Couldn't hurt to have something to do either, right? Seemed like a good distraction to me. So, uh-- Yeah. If anyone's interested, just let me know. Oh, and questions are okay too. ...If anyone has any.

[For a moment, he pauses and looks as though he might say something more, but then there's a puff of breath and some fumbling with the device before the feed cuts out.]
alwaysnext: (run away)
[personal profile] alwaysnext
[There is a time, on a chilly evening in early November, when your average British person starts to feel the dark, autumnal urge to get pissed and set everything on fire. Wood. Bins. Shitty burgers. Even the sky. Nothing is safe.

As the night draws in, so begins the non-stop crack of fireworks. And, if you're paying attention to the network, the whooping of a teenage boy all hopped up on liquor and anti-Catholic sentiment.]

Okay, it's the fifth of November and all I have to say is: if you don't get out here and grab a sparkler, you might as well go and punch King James in the face.

[He jimmies his own sparkler at the camera in demonstration, before shoving his ugly mug back into frame with tipsy neglect for a wide zoom.]

Unless you're into that. Actually, I think a few people here would be into that. So in that case… fireworks! There's also those. Come see them. Bring some of your own! 'Cos I'm about to run out.

[ooc: Mingling log for Bonfire Night party shenanigans. Whether you want to take your revenge on the Wonderland plant life, complain about this newfangled Catholic reformation, or just burn your enemies in effigy, it's time to start a thread and mingle.]
appealingavarice: ([melancholy] the mess in my head)
[personal profile] appealingavarice
[Greed is well-protected, but even he can't keep it up forever. It's been almost a week and he's worried, since no event has lasted this long and maybe this really is how things are going to be from now on and that's kind of a terrifying thought.

So he's in his own head a bit. And he gets careless.

The gash is on his right temple, and sparks with red light every so often as the Philosopher's Stone in his body tries to repair something that refuses to go away. Charity doesn't mind. As soon as he's oriented himself, checked the network, pieced together the situation, he has more important things to concern himself with. His brothers and sisters, for one.]

Are we all settling in okay?

[[ ooc: Replies are likely to come from [personal profile] cruelcharity- we can also backdate threads for pre-possession Greed, if you'd like! ]]
gooddaylisteners: (almost always watching)
[personal profile] gooddaylisteners
[The voice on the radio network this time is different. A bit like Cecil's--the same magnetism, the same charisma--but different. Much cheerier, for one thing.]

The tragedy of spiders is that their kisses are poisonous to humans. Welcome...to Desert Bluffs.

Unfulfilled? )
builditstrong: (the kid)
[personal profile] builditstrong
[The video is jostling around, though not because Kid is struggling, but because he's clearly walking somewhere.]

So, figger most 'f ya know by now. Th' roots've got...I ain't sure how, but th' roots've got our Mirrors in 'em. 'F th' roots get ya, yer Mirror gets in, starts takin' control. Roots jus' grow back when ya destroy 'em...figger best plan's t'avoid 'em till this's all sorted. I've got some supplies an' I'm headin' fer th' roof. Ya'll are free t'join me.

[With that he shuts off the feed. Unfortunately, nothing ever goes smoothly. He's almost to the roof when some roots burst out of someone's room and rush straight for his ankles. He goes down and gets dragged into the room for a minute before he manages to smash the roots to oblivion with his hammer. He scrambles back out into the hallway, and that's about when he feels the other presence.]

[Somehow he still makes it to the roof, and when he's there he adds a second message. By now he's disheveled and looking twitchy.]

Ya might--ya might wanna--wanna avoid th'--you might want to avoid the roof, is what he's trying to say--ggk--ain't...ain't sure what he's capable of--oh, you worry too much. I just want to sit back and--and--enjoy the--oh stop it, would--gah.

Jus'. Just stay 'way from me. An' th' roots.

[ooc: He'll be on the roof for the rest of the day, so feel free to ignore his warning and come find him :3]
builditstrong: (the stockpot)
[personal profile] builditstrong
[Kid's been a bit scarce lately. The past few events have been downright miserable and have made him withdraw quite a bit. He's mostly been wandering the grounds or fixing up weapons in his room. Now he figures he's had enough time to deal with the crap that's happened and goes to address the network.]

Figger we could all use a drink after all that. Gonna be bringin' some more Caelondia spirits t' th' tavern...bar. Bringin' some vineapple chowder 's well. Anyone want a bite an' a drink, I'll be waitin'.

[He nods.]

Tha's all.


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