actualwizard: (Default)
[personal profile] actualwizard
[When the video starts the first thing people will notice is the music playing in the background. Yes, you are dealing with a huge nerd here. Then you get Billy's grinning face, and Teddy in the background....holding a green lightsaber?]

Hello Wonderland! So, now that we all seem to not be puppets anymore, I figured it was time for a little announcement. As some of you may remember Teddy and I threw a movie night back in August featuring sharks and tornados. Since that seemed to go so well we've decided to host another one this coming weekend.

I know, I know, it's Valentine's Day. And what better way to spend it then watching the greatest love story of all time? [Don't argue with him on this, Han and Leia will always win, okay?]

Star Wars. [Why yes, he's pausing for dramatic effect.] The Original Trilogy, to start anyway.

Now I'm sure some of you have seen it already and some of you haven't but theres no excuse to miss the best scifi movie of the twentieth century. Besides some lucky guests may just get a lightsaber of their very own. [Cue Teddy swinging it around in the background.]

We're starting Saturday at noon, so anyone who has a special someone can swing by and still have date night. There will be food and drinks and awesome movies.


Jan. 22nd, 2015 01:12 pm
whele: (pic#8162158)
[personal profile] whele
This is probably going to be one of the few shout outs for help I make on this thing. Considering we have so many people from different worlds, I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed that someone knows something. The probability is low but I have high hopes anyway.

Too much writing.

Who here has the best and easiest hangover cure? One that preferably doesn't involve a lot of doing anything? I have a lot to do today but.... Short lists will be fine.

On another note the Ball was spectacular. Thank you Ms. Ives for putting it on for us all.

[Seems like the alcohol was spectacular too.]
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. ]
guestlectures: (professional)
[personal profile] guestlectures
[At first glance, Alana looks pale and not altogether well. She has a sling around one shoulder and arm, a bruise creeping up her neck and she's actually propped up in a bed with numerous pillows. Being pushed out a window does that to you, apparently.

A closer look will reveal a determined look in her eyes and a collection of books on the table beside the bed. She's researching something.]

I need some advice.

I'm from a world without magic. [As far as she knows.] No angels or demons, wizards, vampires, werewolves, or other supernatural or magical beings. I'm slowly learning what I can about these things, but there's a matter I'd like more input on.

What do you know about curses- specifically, breaking them?

[ooc: Yes, she's asking re: Hannibal. She will not get anywhere with trying to help him, so feel free to have your characters be as helpful (or not) as they want.]

01 | voice

Nov. 2nd, 2014 01:35 pm
mortifero: (FIVE)
[personal profile] mortifero
Heard you got set up here. Not hard to when it's kind of all over.

( Way to go, Angel. You had to go and slip and get messy. Just when she was starting to like you a bit )

Thought you liked more of a challenge though, not people that can't do anything. Isn't that what it was? Fun?

( Faith's stalking the halls as she talks over the network, moving floor to floor. She's got a stake in hand and more stashed away, and then there's that sword she stole. That's hidden rather than with her.

At first Faith had thought she'd been brought here by Wolfram and Hart to be killed, but no one tried to kill her. And then she'd caught Cordelia's announcement and the next death. She'd made her weapons and tried to think how to find him. The place was big, and she didn't know his usual haunts here. Angel's. She knows the device at least sends the message out to everyone, so she's hoping that he'll hear it )

Come on, Angel. Don't you at least want it to feel worth it? I mean, we both know what a good kill feels like. Taking that life, watching them try to fight it. Wouldn't that be better?

( She wants to draw him out, to try and incapacitate him and then help his soul like he'd tried to help hers. She'll kill him if she has to but she owes him )

Might be I know where you can get one.

( Is she the bait or does she have something for him? He should really find out. Or everyone should. She's got a different message for everyone else )
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.
possiblymad: (So done with you)
[personal profile] possiblymad
[The feed would start when a pulse of magic hits a barrier and knocks Loki's phone from his pocket. It turns on, capturing video while aimed at an odd angle, catching only two pair of legs and some scenery. A swirl of blue and green light is the only aftermath of whatever jarred the mobile device from the Asgardian's pocket.]

You need to focus, Kaplan. The raw power must be much denser if you are to break through my barrier. Again. And concentrate this time.

[A foot steps back, sliding against the ground to deepen his stance in order to prepare for Billy's next attack. The heel of his boot bumps the device, spinning it on the ground to give an awkward upward view of Loki and Billy. The Asgardian is holding both hands out, a green shimmer solidifying in a warbling dome before them, between himself and Billy Kaplan.]

It's hard to concentrate when you are distracting me. [ Billy takes a deep breath, hands coming up glowing blue.] And yes, before you say it, I know that's the point.

[The video captures the electric blue glow surrounding his hands grow until its surrounding him. He pushes it forward colliding with Loki's shield and ripping through it, knocking the Asgardian off his feet.] Was that what I was supposed to be going for?

[Loki's hand hits the phone when he lands on his godly behind, covering the screen and blacking the video out.] Precisely. Well done. [The picture returns moments later with said Asgardian looking directly into the video. A suffering sigh escapes and he pinches the bridge of his nose in pure irritation. Then the feed cuts out. WELP.]


Oct. 17th, 2014 11:39 pm
onlyhomemade: (Smug resolve)
[personal profile] onlyhomemade
[The feed is a little shaky as Gabriel walks.]

Well, well, look what I finally found.

[He pauses to pan the camera around the Music Room. But he's not giving away any clue as to where it ended up this time. He'll turn the camera on himself, flashing pearly whites in an almost overly friendly grin.]

And aren't you in for a treat. [His other hand brings up a Trumpet, fingers pressing on the valve buttons as they make little clicks.]

See you in a bit Wonderland.

[The feed goes off and when it turns on again he'll be setting the device on a surface before backing off. He sits in a large, comfy armchair in his room. The lighting is low, casting shadows by candle-light, but that's how he likes it, that's how it was back home.]

I'm sure those of you unfamiliar with the various stories of me aren't aware I even know how to play. And I thought in light of recent events I could ... share my talent. Since I don't really sing, I thought I could play for you instead.

[He settles into a comfortable position with a brisk clearing of his throat. He licks his lips, flashing a quick glance to the camera before lifting the instrument to his mouth. With a deep breath he closes his eyes and breathes into it to start playing a swinging blues tune. It's not every day you get to hear the Archangel Gabriel blowing his horn without it signalling something huge, so enjoy it.]
ceruleans: (Mystique - what?!)
[personal profile] ceruleans
[It's been almost exactly a month since she's arrived in this place that they call Wonderland. The only thing she's managed to do, really, is to convince herself that she is not in the land of mutant genocides. That, along with Erik's presence here, was more than enough to convince her that another video post was necessary. The other mutants who'd belonged to the Brotherhood were dead, and she knew there were mutants here like Ned. Maybe they were hiding and maybe they weren't, but she felt it was only fair to reach out to them.

When she flicks on the video feed, she's at some sort of ornately carved desk with her hands folded awkwardly in front of her. She is her usual tried-and-true blue, wearing a red tank top. She'd actually had time to dress herself for the occasion instead of having to be nude for reasons of sudden disguise.]

...I think it's been long enough with me here that this announcement is overdue, but I didn't exactly want to paint a neon target on myself while things were happening with what people call "Mirrors", here.

My name is Raven Darkholme, but I'd like it if you called me Mystique. Like some of the other people here, I have powers that had me labelled a 'freak' when I was at home, even as a child who knew no better.

I've been hunted, injured, and nearly killed by people who think that I'm dangerous for some of the things I could do, not the things I've done. I've been hunted because I refuse to hide myself in plain view because other people think that I should, because the way I look makes them uncomfortable.

Because the fact I can do this,

[She lets the scales ripple across her body, briefly displaying to the audience watching he usual blonde persona before flowing back to her natural state,]

makes me different. I know we should all be working together here in Wonderland, but I wanted to give any other mutants out there who might be looking for a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen a chance to be heard.

I'll be that person, Wonderland, if you need me.

-- uh, I guess that's all.

[Dang, and she was doing so well with being eloquent up until the end of that sentence. She flicks the phone off, ending her broadcast.]
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.]
sparkplugs: (tawny eyes)
[personal profile] sparkplugs
[A pair of large, tawny eyes fill the picture to start with. After a moment Cy shuffles back, revealing the scruffy face of a tabby. Her fur looks dirty and unkempt, and there's glimpse of something shiny beneath the fur on her forehead. Something metal.

She rolls over, kitten like in her appearance as well as her mannerisms. When she speaks she's cheerful, not seeming overly concerned about the unfamiliarity of her surroundings.]

Wow, Alice! You've taken a wrong turn this time. Down the rabbit hole you go.

My name's Cy. Cy for Sightseer. Cats don't belong down rabbit holes, you know. It's bad for business. Rabbits don't like us, see.

[She rolls back on her front, looking as though she's pondering this for a long moment before she speaks again, tongue swiping over her lips before she breaks her silence.]

I'm hungry.

[ooc: It would be super helpful if you could please fill out Cy's permissions if you tag her so I know whether I can use her powers or not.]


Sep. 28th, 2014 02:14 am
bombshelled: (◎ mournful)
[personal profile] bombshelled
I get it. Wonderland is fucked up. The worlds we come from are sometimes more so. People die, we move on. And I don't mean Wonderland dying, by the way, where they just come back after. I mean back home dying. People die. A lot of people die. A lot of people died when Galactus showed up, not just S—

[She stops. You're rambling, Lana. Deep breath. Get to the fucking point already.]

But does anyone... have a problem with that? The moving on part, I mean. Any tips on how you just... keep living your life when a part of it is gone?

I don't even know why I'm doing this, this is stupid. Should've asked at Parker's thing...

[She ends the feed.]
nascensibility: my whole brain is crying (I don't know what to do)
[personal profile] nascensibility
This is- this is Eve- Evelyn, this is Evelyn O'Connell, I-I need-

[Many were applauding themselves for calling the Duchess on what could be nothing more than an elaborate bluff, a red herring meant to discombobulate them, send them all running in different directions. Fewer still were concerned with the lack of resolution, and with a three-year history of living in Wonderland Evelyn knew better than to grow complacent while those in power nursed their plans to a likely-explosive fruition. Her disappointment regarding her inability to solve the riddle - which Evelyn blamed a great deal on her own incompetence - was nigh palpable even after the event had passed and everyone returned to their respective sides.

Or so one had to hope, as some people had yet to communicate their safe homecoming. Evelyn's line of contact with Philip during the event had put aside any ill feelings from the impromptu (and decidedly awkward) meeting of her current affair, Will Graham, in favour of forcing their efforts into uncovering the secret location of the Vorpal Sword. Since then, he had not called.

It was easy to dismiss the reclusive behaviour based on precedent, but to see Philip's dog, Faraday, whining and snuffling about the library in search of a familiar scent (hers?) was cause for concern. One exhausting trek up to the fifth floor later and the animal pawed desperately at the door of a tearoom, and she could feel- no, she ached with the growing anxiety that sat like a heavy stone in the pit of her stomach.

...p-please, I need help, there's been...

[Beyond the threshold was an unholy mess of red, a body sprawled inelegantly and clutching its - his - communicator as if in a last-ditch attempt at contacting someone, anyone, for help. Evelyn did not need to turn the face to her, gazing lifelessly in the opposite direction, to determine the identity of the victim of what appeared to be an inordinately violent murder by stabbing.

She knew who it was.

I told him to be careful, he's lost- he's lost them- them all...if someone could-

[Which brings us to The Now™, a time when Evelyn can barely force out a plea for assistance over the network between sharp gasps for air in an effort to keep from crying. At some point her legs crumpled uselessly beneath her in the space between the door and Philip's body, the first one she has ever known in Wonderland to have lost the fifth life.]

I'm in the- the fifth floor tea room, Philip La- LaFresque has been- someone has murdered him, I need help.

[Her voice breaks on the last word.]

hybrida: <user name=easystreet> (055)
[personal profile] hybrida
[ After calming down from his initial arrival, and learning just exactly where he is, Klaus thought it was about time to check out this little communicator he'd been given. The recent troubles with the mirror side and the riddle are none of his concern, since that was before his arrival, no matter how recent.

When the video starts, he looks to be in deep concentration. An expression that soon changes into something a little more smug when he notices it's working.

I'm to understand this broadcast can be seen by all who have the unfortunate luck to be here. [ He seems pretty amiable, leaning back a little in his chair as he rubs a hand over his chin. ] I'll admit, this isn't my preferred method of communication, but I believe there's a saying about Romans and what not that would apply to the situation.

[ Klaus glances over his shoulder, obviously looking at someone off camera, and his mouth curves into a smirk that seems at odds with his friendly behavior. ]

This is as good a time as any for me to get to know everyone, isn't it? So, out with it. Tell me something about yourselves. [ In truth, he really isn't interested in facts or making new friends - he's there to observe and judge his fellow captives. ] As for myself, my name is Klaus. I assume several of you have met my brother, Elijah.

[ Anyone who's had a run-in with Elijah will be getting extra attention from Klaus, how lucky for them. ]

If you would all indulge me just a bit, I would be most grateful.

[ He doesn't sound grateful - he sounds just the slightest bit condescending. He ends the feed there.

It's entirely possible if anyone happens to make their way to the fifth floor bar, he'll be parked right at the counter, downing a few glasses of scotch.
guestlectures: (professional)
[personal profile] guestlectures
[Alana has arrived, been fed, and done an initial exploration of the mansion. She's still not completely accepting that this is all real, but no other reasonable explanation has been offered. What choice does she have but to accept it though?]

Hi, my name's Alana Bloom. I've just arrived here from Baltimore, Maryland, and I have to say that as a psychiatrist I'm used to out of world experiences being a little less literal than this.

[She shrugs, smiling and indicating that she is attempting to make the best of a weird situation.]

Is anyone able to tell me what that woman was speaking about earlier, the Duchess? How much of Lewis Carroll's original story should I expect to run into here? [This is what she is most concerned about- the Wonderland stories she recalls reading are not quite as pleasant as the Disney movies made them.] If you'd rather talk in person I've chosen a room up on the third floor.

Thanks again to everyone who's helped me so far.
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?
[personal profile] appreciating
Wonderland, right.

[ Yes, she is doubting every moment of this. It can't be unusual for people to spend the early days in denial, she's sure, and Alana is definitely in denial. She's practical, scientific, and there's no room in that world view to allow for magically appearing in 'Wonderland'.

Still, dream or hallucination it seems to be long term, so she's making the best of a bad situation. Friendly is good, right? Friendly is playing along with whatever this is? Friendly is what she's going for anyway, so with an only slightly forced smile she continues.
] I've read the pamphlet - very helpful, by the way, kudos to whoever conjured that one up. Anyway, I've read the pamphlet, I've...wandered around this place, but I'm still confused on a few points. Bear with me, it's my first time in...a place like this.

[ She laughs a little, obviously confused expression furrowing her brows, but don't worry, she's not done. ] I won't take up too much of everyone's time though. if you could just direct me to whoever you consider to be authority figures around here, I'll be on my way. Thanks?

[ And on that incredibly hesitant note, she cuts her feed. ]


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