burntvideocassette: (camera in mirror)
[personal profile] burntvideocassette
[The camera's pointed at Jay's shoes. Wherever he is, it's carpeted, and it's at least somewhat well-lit. When he finally speaks, it's at a whisper and oddly flat.]

If anyone was thinking about using the last house on...Lakeview Drive for shelter...

[A gas can swings into view, and a narrow stream of gasoline leaks from the spout onto the carpet. The camera tilts for a second, revealing a well-furnished suburban bedroom with lazy gasoline loops painted across both the floor and the bed.]

...Don't.

[Jay starts down the stairs, trailing fuel behind him.]

Don't get anywhere near this place. If you're looking for me, [He tries and fails to suppress a cough. The fumes must be getting to him.] I won't be around either.

[He's in the living room now. Jay pans the camera across the room--couches, coffee table, TV, stereo--before dribbling the last of the gasoline across the floor and up to an open window. He tosses the can aside.]

Last warning.

[Jay reaches up to the inactive stereo, twisting the volume dial as low as it can go. Hand visibly trembling, he switches it on. Nothing. Good. He switches the input to "radio". His breathing is audible now, high and ragged.

He twists the volume knob, and the speakers come to life with the deafening roar of...well, you win some, you lose some.

Jay bolts from the house, leaving the front door hanging open.

There's chaos for a moment, leaves hit the camera lens, and then Jay's looking down from a reasonably sized oak tree. A corpse shambles into view, heading straight for the house. Jay cuts the feed.]


[OOC: Jay has just attempted to create walker-bait out of the last house at the end of a dead-end street. Very loud, very flammable walker-bait. He's stolen Tim's lighter, and he's planning to shut the front door and light the place up through the window once enough bodies find their way inside.

Feel free to use this post to yell at him/cheer him on/try to stop him/try to help him.]
wickedwest: (Wait no I didn't)
[personal profile] wickedwest
Again? Really?

[She sure sounds annoyed. She'd put this on video, but she doesn't see much of a point there. Everybody's seeing much of the same thing.]

And here I thought we wouldn't have to deal with zombies again. That's what they're called, right? Zombies?

[Not being from a world with these things, she wouldn't know. And zombie movies really aren't high on her list of things to watch or look into. But she's pretty sure that's what she heard them being called earlier.]

At least they're visible this time. The again, doesn't really make it better, judging from how some of them look.

[Maybe she shouldn't be so flippant about this, but it's the only way she really knows how to be. Acting otherwise, would show that she's worried about this mess given her lack of magic at the moment.]

Don't suppose anyone has a quick fix for this one though? A spell, some sort of anti-zombie bomb, anything that would make this more tolerable?

[She's guessing no.]
adaptiveimmunities: (ratings grab)
[personal profile] adaptiveimmunities
[The video opens on a nice, pleasant scene outside of the town limits. The sun is shining, the birds are singing. There's a man and a zombie and a hockey stick. You know, any sunny day ending in Y. The man is Shaun, and he's wearing kevlar over his t-shirt, and safety sunglasses, but that's the extent of his armor today.

It's George's voice that comes through from behind the camera.]


Our story begins where so many have ended. With an idiot, in this case my brother Shaun, poking a zombie with a stick.

[Shaun is keeping his new friend at the other end of his hockey stick, and he glances over his shoulder at George.]

Come on, this is the least stupid thing I've ever done with zombies that you've seen.

[She zooms in, focusing on Shaun and the zombie. But she sounds amused when she responds.]

Is that really something to brag about? Most people here haven't had a chance to see the depths of your dumb life choices. You could have kept them fooled.

I think it's a testament to my innate ability to survive that I haven't died yet, actually. [The zombie lunges, but Shaun keeps the hockey stick between him and it.]

It's a testament to you being a lucky idiot.

[You can practically hear her eyeroll. It's also a testament to him being immune, but that seems like not a great thing to advertise right now. Especially when they don't know if it's true in this particular zombie apocalypse and the idea of losing him because they have the wrong damn zombies and he's gotten used to being immune…. No. It's not worth considering. Shaun knows what he's doing.]

Are you done making friends with the locals yet? Seems like your buddy there could use a nap. A really permanent one.

[He gives a slightly dramatic sigh and without any further fanfare pulls out his gun and shoots the zombie in the head. It goes down, of course. There might be some differences in the variety of zombies here as opposed to home, but enough is the same that this, at least, is no surprise.]

Yeah, I guess. [He nods toward the distance.] Hey, George, check this out. How long do you think it'll take the party to arrive?

[She raises the camera, turning it away from Shaun and over to the mass of zombies gathering in the distance.]

Not nearly long enough. And us without nearly enough party favors.

[When she turns the camera again, both she and Shaun are in frame now. She's wearing kevlar as well, as well as a heavy leather jacket. And sunglasses, of course. She looks even more serious than usual, in contrast to her earlier tone.]

We've been dealing with zombies our whole lives. This… is a hell of an outbreak. You need help or advice, talk to us. [A corner of her mouth twitches up very slightly.] I promise Shaun won't screw around. Too much.

[He gives her a look of mock offense.] Please. I always save my screwing around for times when I'm the only one who's going to die by my stupid choices. [He offers a thumbs up to the camera.] Lots of experience in not getting dead by zombies between the two of us. Seriously, if you need help, don't hesitate to call. I know there are plenty of people offering, so we're joining the chorus here, but the offer stands anyway.

So has anyone see any zombie bears yet? I have a score to even up.

[OOC: Feel free to use this post actionspam them here or throughout the event!]
assembles: (much earnest)
[personal profile] assembles
[ It's been a long, long while since Steve transmitted a message through the network, and that's been no accident. His last announcement was when he came back from his last trip home, over a year ago. It hadn't felt right to take the lead in the same way after that, and others had jumped in to take his place as needed. Hadn't they? He'd thought as much, but others have told him that he's still needed as a leader. Maybe not as Cap, but as Steve.

It's a work in progress.

But here he is all the same, sending out his message toward the end of the second day. He's indoors; the room he's in not well-lit but his face is still visible. It's quiet out, the calm before the storm. ]


Michonne and I took a trip past the gates today, and... there's something coming. Or, well, a lot of somethings. A whole horde of zombies headed right for us. She's already given you guys the rundown, but I wanted to get the word out. We're gonna have to fight, or barricade ourselves away from danger. [ His expression hardens then, something steely and determined. ] Whatever you can do to keep yourself and your loved ones safe, do it.

[ A pause as he gathers his thoughts, and then he's back to it. ] I know death isn't permanent here, but this isn't a way that anyone wants to go. [ Is he speaking from experience?? Who knows, he doesn't elaborate. ] And I'll do whatever I can to help. In case you didn't know, I've got super strength, super speed, and I can take a hit. I'm not even sure if this infection will affect me because of the way my metabolism is. So if you need help getting out a scrape, let me know, all right? Or even if you just need help barricading a house. [ He's perfect for all that heavy lifting. ] I'm here to do whatever I can.

[ It's never enough, but he's still going to try. If he's learned anything this past year, it's that. ]

Oh, it's Steve, by the way. Steve Rogers. Stay safe, everyone.

[ With a firm nod, he ends the broadcast. For someone who's rusty on the speeches, it could have been worse, right? ]
thesamurai: (💀 91)
[personal profile] thesamurai
[ She knew as soon as the cryptic message went up what this was going to be. And it's really something to finally be up, after two and a half years, to know this one's yours and it won't be anything good. Michonne's stockpiled more than usual - cases of bottled water, a shit ton of non-perishable food, and guns, ammo. She doesn't know what to expect; maybe it'll all disappear overnight, but she has to try.

When she wakes up back home, back in Alexandria, at first she thinks she's back. But she remembers Wonderland, sits up straight in bed and realizes a few things. Rick's not beside her, her stockpile from yesterday is still there, and her device is on the nightstand. Dressing quickly, she gets up, walks through the familiar house and out onto the porch.

She is home. There's no Daryl in the house next door, her people aren't here, but she's back and she isn't sure how to feel. She isn't even sure what fucked up thing might happen. She has to do her best to warn everyone, toe the line between scaring the shit out of people and making sure they understand. Sitting at her kitchen table (and that's a weird thing, too. This isn't anyone's but hers. This is all...hers. Her house, her couch, her mantle where she hung her katana thinking in a bout of optimism that it could stay there) she turns on her device, her face a little harder than usual which is, in all honesty, saying something. ]


If you don't know me, my name's Michonne. This is my world. Looks nice. Quaint. But it's not. Most people in Wonderland call it a zombie apocalypse. We didn't know what it was.

[ She really can't help having this moment out loud. ]

It was never entertainment for movies and tv in my world. It's real. Most of you already know what to do: shot to the head is the only thing that kills them. It's not good enough to just cut off the head. It can still bite. You get bit, you die and turn. Come back as one of them. Don't worry about being able to tell the difference between someone alive and someone dead. You can see it. Smell it.

[ And uh, one other thing: ]

If you get bit on a part that can be cut off, arm, leg. Do it. Cut it off as soon as you can. If you don't bleed to death, you won't turn.

[ But everyone knows this is temporary, so maybe people would just rather die than go through an amputation. Maybe they'd die and turn because eventually, this will end. They don't have to keep living it every single day. ]

I don't know if walkers will even be the issue. It could be anything I've gone through, right? There's enough fucked up shit that's happened, the biggest threat might not even be the dead. Just trust me. Get a weapon. Stay close because there's safety in numbers. I'm at the very end of the neighborhood with cases of water and food if you don't have any, but look in your pantries and see if there are rations, first. If you know how to use a gun, I've got those too.

Just know that noise draws them in. Gunfire is dangerous, might as well sound off a dinner bell for walkers. That's why I've had and always will have a katana. If you smell like them, they won't bother you. Smear their guts on you, smell dead, walk slow, you can get through a hoard.

[ She should stop, she can't tell everyone everything, it's too much. ]

You know how to reach me, if you need me.
twixt_dee_n_dum: (You'd go out just like a candle)
[personal profile] twixt_dee_n_dum
[Tweedledee stands beside a tree, her arms crossed over her chest, her back against the tree's trunk. Her eyes are trained on the ground in front of her. The camera angle is off to the side somewhere, the shot partially framed by grass, but no where in the frame is Tweedledum. Where could she--]

I can see them!

[--In the tree. She's in the tree.

Tweedledee sighs, but doesn't move.]


Well, it's no good yelling about it.

They're coming!

There's nothing to be done now. Best to come down and find a place to hide.

I think I'm quite safe up here, thank you.

[Tweedledee thinks about that for a moment, then, with a nod, turns and begins to climb up the tree as well, quite quickly. Soon there's no one at all in the frame, and after awhile, the abandoned feed is cut.]
wriggedywrecked: (grandpa needs his booze morty)
[personal profile] wriggedywrecked
[Rick is on the beach, but he's not exactly dressed in beachware. He's just wearing his usual labcoat, and the only new addition seems to be the big, industrial-style earmuffs hanging around his neck. There's also some kind of metal structure behind him that looks exactly like a missile launchpad.]

Okay, so I-I'm only giving this warning once. Gonna be ordnance testing for th-the next two hours out on the beach, so d-don't come out here without at least some kinda ear protection. And don't f-f-freak out if you hear a lot of explosions. Cause there's gonna be explosions. I don't have to warn you dumbfucks. Th-This is a courtesy.

[Then, in full view of the camera, he takes a swig from his hip flask. Rick Sanchez is all about weapon safety.]

Rick out.

[And indeed, for the next two hours there's a lot of high-pitched whistling and thunderous explosions from the direction of the beach. Hope you weren't planning a beach party! Feel free to come try to stop him or yell or something.]
choosetruth: (2)
[personal profile] choosetruth
Let's talk news.

[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?
shorthair: (shiver the whole night through)
[personal profile] shorthair
[ ooc: consider this a party post. feel free to tag around as much as you want to others, chiming in and giving advice. be anonymous like clementine or don't be anonymous, up to you. cw for underage drinking, probably mentions of violence, death, etc. ]

( the first time clementine ever had a drink, it was in a shed with nick. they thought they were going to die. it was the grossest thing she'd ever tasted. burned down her throat. moonshine. the second time, it was rum while they all sat in a circle, toasting to the people they'd lost. the third time, it was rum with coke when she checked in on shaun after georgia left.

the fourth time, it's rum again with coke, and she's had a little more than an eleven year old should, but she hit the anonymous function on the post before writing )


how do you deal with all the bullshit life throws at you?

like death and losing and surviving and wonderland and assholes and babies

and cannibals.

or whatever else you've been through. too much free time here.


( definitely feeling the rum now. but with the alcohol, it's like she's finally found some feeling she's been missing. her eyes burn. trust has become so hard that she doesn't trust anyone completely, because everyone has their own priorities. it's how the world works. it's what she's learned. iris is gone. everyone died back home. she has a newborn to take care of there. she's still got walker blood in her veins like michonne, like georgia and shaun have zombie blood in them. when she dies, she'll turn into one too unless someone shoots her first or she does it herself. and she doesn't know how to have emotions anymore. things should reach her and they don't. or maybe she just doesn't let them, and she can't tell the goddamn difference. )
cloned: 90s (dreconcarne008)
[personal profile] cloned
[The camera opens close on Kon's face, though there's something odd about the light. It's mottled and colorful, like he's standing in front of stained glass windows or something. And he's grinning. That is not a grin you want to trust.]

Hey people! Thought it might be time to tell you about a certain superpower that no one except me has.

[Because he loves talking about it, and because it'll get anyone who knows him to zone out now. Convenient.]

See, I'm Superman's clone, and for the most part I've got the same powers... Strength, flight, durability... but there's one power that's entirely my own.

I call it tactile telekinesis. It's kinda like, a forcefield? Only I can manipulate it. It's great for taking things apart cause I can wedge it into all the cracks of something and then boom. [He holds up a hand and spreads his fingers.] But it's also great for keeping things together.

[He pans the camera up, revealing a mass of water balloons that should not all be staying up, since he's only touching one or two. But there it is, a huge mass of water balloons, held together as easily as if they were actually attached to each other.]

...you know. Until I don't need to anymore. Hi, Tim.

[He lowers the camera, just enough to give a glimpse of Tim Drake's face before he drops all of the water balloons on Tim's head. Then he turns the camera back on his own face as he flies away, cackling madly.]

Anyway, if anyone needs me, I'll be way, way over the roof. Later!
dramatic: (ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʜʏ)
[personal profile] dramatic
( guess who found the ice cream/soda bar? yeah, it's this girl.

she's processing the whole pocket dimension thing pretty well. even if she wasn't, she wouldn't show you. whaddya take her for?

mj does love being where all the action is. sure, there's the stuck-here-until-the-powers-that-be choose otherwise, but as scarlett o'hara once stated wisely, tomorrow is another day. wonderland's spookiness sounds like tomorrow!mj's problem. maybe. it's hard to get her to take most things seriously.

so have a sparkly and glamorous redhead coming to you live from the ballroom. )


Hiya, Wonderlanders. MJ Watson with a very important question here.

Looks like I'm not going anywhere, so — what's the best floor to live on? What's the worst? Don't skimp on details. If I'm going to need a room and I can make it look any way I want, then I've got to start by making sure I'm on the right floor.

Spill.

( she likes hearing people's opinions. will probably disregard 95% of them, tho. )

[Text]

Jun. 12th, 2017 04:02 pm
mypartnerintime: (Sunshine for everyone)
[personal profile] mypartnerintime
[What were the things that made her happy?

She racked her brain, pulling ideas out one by one, straining against the cobwebs of her lazy thoughts.

Maybe happiness is a muscle. You have to tend to it, work on it, keep it healthy and limber. You find the things that make you smile and practice those passions, before you forget why it is they cheered you up and buoyed you throughout the day.

And after a long time of disuse, you find that the happiness you used to have is out of reach. Before you know it, it's been weeks or months. Too long.

But you start small, go easy, work those muscles back into form. Day by day. Thought by thought. With determination and a single-mindedness that shuts the darker things away.

Baby steps down a long road.]


I think I actually went home for a day.

It's all kind of muddled up in my head. Sorta like a reverse-vacation.

A noitacav!

:|

So... what's new? ...Besides the lizardly adjustments.
falconing: (EVERYTHING IS FINE)
[personal profile] falconing
[ han usually takes up Too Much Space (tm) when he sits somewhere, but he's exceptionally sprawling today in a chair, looking some mixture between bored and perturbed.

he's not a fan of prisons. and this, for all of its decorative artwork and landscape, is a prison. and so han sighs, puffing out his cheeks slightly, before straightening up to rest his elbows on his knees.

he's scoped out the landscape, a bit. he's explored a little, gotten a general idea of what he's doing here, and he's figured out this place is a giant conglomeration of peoples from a bunch of different universes crammed together to figure it out. heartwarming, but he's got stuff to do. ]


So who's gonna tell me whether or not there's a key to get out of this place? 'cause I've got one hell of a to-do list going on back home.

[ and without waiting for an opportunity for someone to answer -- ]

And while you're at it, has anybody seen a rogue Skywalker?

[ if folks from his universe are here, they'll know exactly who he's talking about. and if not, no harm no foul.

he'll save asking for leia once he's figured out whether luke is here first. nobody needs to be alerted to her. yet, anyway. ]

Entry #1

Jun. 6th, 2017 08:28 am
burntvideocassette: (Default)
[personal profile] burntvideocassette

[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.]

...Tim Wright?

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--

angewiesen: (30)
[personal profile] angewiesen
Unseasonable snow aside… [Which Jean was enjoying in his own way. He was sitting in the window of his room, watching it fall while still being warm and cozy. He just had a pressing question for the moment, one that had been building up in his head for awhile.]

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.
nextfate: (★ 229)
[personal profile] nextfate
[ When Jane starts her video feed, there's a moment she's laughing at someone or something, pushing it/them away lightly before re-focusing on the screen. ]

Hi, everyone. I wanted to apologize for the tattoo shop being closed for so long. I left, but I've been back for about a week now. There was the ski lodge thing and before that...

[ There's something muffled said that can't quite be made out, but her eyes dart in the direction of the voice, and she laughs, bringing her left hand up to cover her mouth for a second which reveals a flash of a wedding ring. ]

...I was honeymooning. So, anyway.

[ She professionally clears her voice, getting back down to business. ]

Any appointments that fell through because I was sent home for a while can be considered back on the books and priority. Just let me know when you want to come by and I'll fit you in ahead of walk-ins. Oh, and I can confirm now that any tattoos I do here will completely disappear and not come back when you return. Which is, I guess, great for return business. All of the tattoos I gave Kurt are gone.

[ Guess she'll have to do more, what a burden. ]

Just let me know if you need anything. Oh, and Kurt's back too. Thanks to everyone who checked in on Sarah.
screwedontight: (Drink)
[personal profile] screwedontight
[The camera starts to find Seth standing by a window, staring out at the snow with a look that seems a mixture of disgust and frustration.]

I bet some of you think this is fun and enjoyable to, huh? Have at it. For those of us that would much rather we'd ended up on a Mexican beach like me, I'm going to be camped out by a fireplace with my newest play on a hot toddy and cards.

I see no point in stepping out that door until this is gone and over with.

[Awww, someone's cranky. Feel free to join him... or mock him.]
thisismadfreaky: (So much guilt)
[personal profile] thisismadfreaky
[The video is set on one Cisco Ramon, looking rather worse for wear. He's scrolled back, skimmed things he's missed-- saw George's article-- he knows everything is out on the table already, but... but it's not the same when it's from a different source. When it's not straight from the horse's mouth. And... he owes them at least that much. More. So much more, but at the very least, that.

Iris had offered to interview him, give him the voice he didn't get to have when he wasn't here, but he refused. Not because he didn't appreciate the idea, the gesture, he did. And maybe he should have let her do it, because maybe she could put it all in better words than he can, it is her job, after all. But it's the sense of responsibility that he carries for what transpired and spiraled out of control because of his own, misplaced and selfish actions that makes him turn the offer down. He wants to do it, own it and let the cards fall where they may because of it. And it will be bad. He expects that much. Expects the hatred and the vitriol, yelling and condemnation, questions and criticisms. Nothing about this is something he wants to do, to deal with, but he has to. He knows he has to, it's entirely unavoidable.

This position isn't a completely foreign or unfamiliar one, it's one he's been in before. After the particle accelerator explosion. Science'd too hard, it went sideways, people were hurt. It's a pattern at this point, and he's learned his lesson now. But it's all too little, too late, because people have been hurt. People have been killed. That blood is on his hands, and it will never really come clean.

There's a flutter in his stomach and it isn't the nervous kind, but the violent kind, paired with a tightness like a vice grip that burns in his chest. He doesn't even know what to say, where to start. He clears his throat and he can barely look at the camera to address the invisible audience.]


For those of you...who don't know me, my name is Cisco Ramon. The... [His gaze drops, but it's brief, just long enough to collect himself before he looks at the camera again. Despite it, though, his voice is shaky, unsteady, thick with emotion--mostly guilt.] Event, if you want to call it that, that we just had is the fault of no one but my own. Dr. Fitz...had his plans, but he didn't know my true intent. I sabotaged months of work and research for my own agenda. An...agenda that, ultimately, was never real, and only the work of fabrications from a mirror who manipulated me-- [He pauses and shakes his head, corrects the statement.] no, who...I blindly trusted for months on a lie. A lie that...was so clever, and matched up so perfectly to something I'd been doubting for awhile, that I had no ch-- no reason not to believe it, at the time.

[He stares down at his hands, hanging loosely between his knees, where he's leaning forward just a little. He feels sick. Things he'd seen--blood, there had been so much--when his captors chose to show him the results of what he'd done, forced him to watch from the mirrors the chaos that ensued because of his own, selfish actions, are all too close to the front of his mind, but he pushes it all down. He can deal with it later.

Again, he looks back at his audience.]
My mistakes, my...emotional-driven choices led to catastrophic disaster and....for whatever it's worth, I take responsibility for that. I...I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix it, I can't fix it, but-- I'll do whatever it takes t- to make this right. Somehow. [Belatedly, as an afterthought:] And I'm not...I'm not touching a project like this again.

[Again, for whatever it's worth. He knows it doesn't change anything, it doesn't validate any of his actions, but he can't change the past-- ha, the irony of that-- he can only move forward in whatever miniscule increments he can manage. People will be angry, and they have the right to be, he won't begrudge them that. They should be angry. He risked them. All of them, for one person. For a lie. Nothing any of them could say is worse than what he's already thought to himself, and no one here can hate him more than he hates himself.]

I- I'm sorry. [A tear rolls down his cheek and he ducks his head, leaning forward to cut the feed off and it goes black.]

[Note: I'M SORRY, I COULDN'T WAIT, SO IT'S LIKE TINY BIT FWD-DATED! I'm an impatient child, I'm sorry. Plz feel free to threadjack, shitpost, defend him, rage at him, go wild, guys!]
revolter: (pic#11426121)
[personal profile] revolter
[ on what must be one of the first days of relative peace, a feed opens to present a newcomer. Leia is dressed as she normally would, all in white, collar high. The clothes she came with have been tossed away but there is nothing she can do about the ugly bruise on her neck, circular, red. it would turn to purple in a few days and is a dead giveaway for a collar of metal that bit into her skin until very recently.

her palms tell a story too, skin peeling at places, red and irritated from when she pulled on metal. However, it'd be difficult to pass her for the slave girl whose part she'd been forced to play. There's an air of authority to her even now.

Oh, and there's the blaster she tucks just beneath her belt, a touch of black on an otherwise white palette. ]


Well, this is rich.

[ biting with just a hint of sass but then, she seems to realize her message is finally being sent. ]

I see no practical reason for so much technology when we all live in the same cell.

[ this is what she calls this, a cell. A prison is a prison, vast as it may be. ]

But if you hear my message, know I mean you no harm. I understand I've come in a time of great peril [ somehow, she senses it in the very air around the halls ]. My own world is in great peril as well, it is urgent that they'll receive any help available if they're to see our mission done.

[ a beat. ]

We share the same predicament, I ask that we share information as well. If there is anything worth knowing about this system, I'd hear it and if any assistance is needed, I will supply.
sorryitasedyou: (And draw a different picture up)
[personal profile] sorryitasedyou
[ Once the coast is clear and everything seems to have finally calmed down, Darcy takes the dogs out on a much deserved walk because jfc it's been a dicey week to do anything without fearing being jumped or pulled over to the mirrorside. And considering she's got a few people over there she'd rather not cross paths with again, she's been laying low while they've been running wild.

They walk their normal loop around the Wonderland grounds when Darcy notices something different. After staring for a little while as the dogs bark at the new noise, she pulls out her device to fire off a quick message. ]


guys
there's something weird happening outside - edge of the grounds on the west [ Give her a sec to look around, hold a hand up in the air and draw something before quickly changing her mind. ]
no east side
sorry
idk how to describe it so--

wtf.wav


[ Enclosed is the sounds she's hearing of wood creaking and things splish splashing and digging? Diving? What? ]

can't see much
a lot of dust or fog or wonderland bs floating around
anyone wanna come out here and confirm that i'm not going crazy
it would be greatly appreciated

[ Because she's not sure that if it's a monster thing, her taser's gonna do much even with a god setting. ]
choosetruth: (BTK104)
[personal profile] choosetruth
As many of you have no doubt noticed by now, we are in the midst of what, for lack of a better word, I'll call an event. Not a normal event, though. Wonderland hasn't raked through anyone's memories and put bits of our lives on display. This is the doing of individual Reals and Mirrors, and the fallout of their actions, proving once again, our greatest enemies will always be ourselves.

Leopold Fitz and Cisco Ramon, two scientists that started out with the best of intentions, as so many scientists do, have been trying to create a way out of Wonderland, though they refrained from sharing this information with the public before running their experiment last week. "I don't think anyone's been that in the dark that some of us have been working on trying to find a way home. There's no sense in getting people's hopes up over something that is almost certainly destined to fail the first few, probably hundred times," said Ramon, when questioned.


Lots more words and a picture under the cut. George uses so many words, guys. So many. )

[ooc: feel free to threadjack around and discuss with each other in the comments! Turn this into the nightmare comment section all articles deserve.]

[Voice]

May. 10th, 2017 11:14 pm
hypoxic: } Pretentious lyrics: °C-ute - "Grieving Heaven" (Default)
[personal profile] hypoxic
[The Astrophysics lab is a bit of a mess at the moment, covered in alarming mechanisms that aren't fully installed yet. To keep people from jumping to conclusions, Fitz is opting for an audio-only message today.]

Apologies for the interruption. I just wanted to give ample notice that the lab will be performing some testing on this coming Friday. Please be advised that the fourth floor might be excessively noisy during the proceedings. We won't be working with anything particularly dangerous, so please don't be alarmed by anything you hear.

We're quite sorry for any inconveniences this might cause. It might be a good day to stay outside to avoid the noise pollution.

Thank you for your time.
beatnomore: (22)
[personal profile] beatnomore
Closed Action for the Mason singularity )


[ Video ]

[ Buffy doesn't post on the network until later, after she's gotten the lay of the land from George and Shaun. Clothes have been changed, hair has been styled and her tech has been reclaimed from the closet and she's vaguely ready to take on the world again. The camera turns on to face Buffy looking her usual perky self, complete with a camera ready face already on. ]

Hey there, Wonderland. This is Buffy here to announce that I'm once again back and ready to take the reins on the fictional division of After the End Times once again after my... leave of absence. You can all rejoice as necessary, I promise I won't tell George or Shaun. It can be our secret.

But right now, I have a different idea in mind. Every universe has stories, right? Tell me what your favorites are. Are they in books, printed on actual factual dead trees or do you use an ereader? TV shows? Movies?

Tell me all the juicy details about your favorite stories. I need some new stuff to chew on and I want to see what the multiverse has to offer.
mulletrock: (w/e: come here bb)
[personal profile] mulletrock
So, while everyone's recovering from last month's bullshit here's an idea:
It's my brother's birthday: Sam Winchester. Maybe you've heard of him.
Looks like Sasquatch, dresses like Mr. Rogers.

He likes clowns, greasy food, and lingerie wrestling.

Anyone else looking to pitch in, you can leave open bottles of alcohol, barrettes, and scrunchies outside his room door for the next 24 hours. Whoever can get the most parked by the door jamb without him catching them, gets a favor, winner's choice. Proof or it didn't happen.

He's also a big fan of taxidermy and stetsons.
adaptiveimmunities: (don't mention her name)
[personal profile] adaptiveimmunities
[One minute, Shaun is racing back to the garage of the house in Berkeley. Becks is on his heels as they try to use the tiny warning the Masons’ collective conscience allowed them to outrace the authorities. The next minute, he’s stumbling, flailing, and then finally splashing into swimming pool.

In Wonderland.

The memories come flooding back, just like they’d never left, and he swims to the edge, dragging himself out of the pool again and dripping for a moment by the side of it. He finds his phone near the splash that marks his entry, and snatches it up, grabbing a towel to wrap around his shoulders and maybe start to dry off as he moves toward the door.]


[Video] Adaptive Immunities: The blog of Shaun Mason. Entry 5

Hey everyone. Long time no see, right?

Where the fuck is my sister.

[OOC: Shaun can be found making a beeline from the swimming pool toward his and Georgia's room. He can also be encountered at the swimming pool if someone happens to be there!]
uncaging: (☄ 059)
[personal profile] uncaging
[Elizabeth looks rather apprehensive that the tears have suddenly appeared everywhere, but she can't quite mask her excitement at getting to explain to everyone the one area in which she is most certainly an expert - even if the information she has to offer is something most people have probably figured out for themselves by now.]

These rips in the air that have appeared - they're called tears, and they're something I can create. They're a window through the fabric of reality, and they show other versions of the world. The tears I make here can only lead to other versions of Wonderland, but I've looked through some of the ones that showed up by themselves and they led to versions of Columbia, where I came here from, too.

[She has quite a bit of distaste in her voice as she mentions Columbia.]

My main advice is to be careful. Most of the alternate realities out there are rather benign, with a thousand tiny changes possible - tea instead of coffee, or different coloured wallpaper. But there are also those that have bigger, more important variables at play, and those tears can be very dangerous. You might see people you recognise on the other side of them, but their personalities could be completely different - just keep reminding yourself that it's not really your parent, or partner, or whoever, but just another version of them. A 'what-if', it might be easiest to think of it as.

[It's very unlikely that she'll be able to heed her own advice, as sound as it seems to give it out.]

If you have any questions at all, I'm more than happy to answer them.
cranston: (04)
[personal profile] cranston
[ Billy is struggling with something off screen, being tugged at by some force not visible. He holds the camera up with one hand, the other hanging onto something out of sight. ]

People usually use these things to ask for advice, right? Or help? I think that's what I've seen people use it for. Anyway. Does anyone have an idea on how to get an invisible dog to listen to you? 'Cause I-- Hang on.

[ He scrambles with the camera for a minute, turning it around to show a leash and collar, connected to... nothing. There's nothing there. Well, there's something there, because the leash is being pulled to its limits, and there's the sound of growling coming from the end of it. ]

This is Fido. [ Billy says, as though there's anything there to be named Fido in the first place. ]

Fido, stop pulling! Fido, heel!

[ Fido does no such thing. Fido growls and barks and pulls some more. Defeated, Billy turns the camera back around. ]

Maybe I shouldn't've named him Fido. Maybe Killer is better. But he isn't listening to any name I say, so I don't think it's the name that matters. Anyway. I found him in my room, and I've never had a dog before, so I asked the closet for a leash, and I got it on him but I don't think he likes it.

[ Fido barks his displeasure. ] I know, I know! Fido, shh!

[ Billy, exasperated, ends the video. He can be found trying to take Fido for walks around the mansion grounds. Fido, for his part, doesn't want to go for a walk. He wants to growl and generally resist and sniff at the tears they pass. Those are weird, huh. ]
choosetruth: (bex-taylor-klaus-2549334)
[personal profile] choosetruth
Action )

Video

[Georgia doesn't address the network until later, when she's had a chance to clean up. Her hair's dyed back to its usual dark brown. She has a black blazer over a white shirt, a few sizes smaller than she's used to, but they look like her clothes. She has shoes and she's seriously debating sleeping in them. And she has sunglasses, wrapping the world back in its usual comforting monotone and hiding her far too normal eyes. She looks like herself again. She nods as the recording starts.]

My name is Georgia Mason, and I can tell you for a fact that I have never been here before in my life.

[She shakes her head, holding up a hand.]

I have never been here before, and yet I remember everything. I remember space. I remember wizard school. I remember paintball and New Year's parties and writing op-eds that pissed people off and actually starting a print publication.

[It's almost comforting that she feels the same amount of disdain for print. Anything that's the same about her is something to cling to. She takes a deep breath before continuing.]

I remember a lot of things that didn't happen to me. Up to and including, my brother holding a gun to the base of my skull and shooting me before I could turn into a zombie. I know that didn't happen to me because that's not the sort of thing you live through. Those are all things that happened to Georgia Mason and I--

[She smiles shallowly, almost sadly, and forces herself to keep looking at the camera. Not like anyone can see where her eyes are pointing through the sunglasses, but it's important to her that she stays strong.]

I'm the closest thing you're gonna get. I'm a genetically identical clone with 97% of her memories, and how the fuck that can include Wonderland when I didn't remember it at the time of my death is one of many things about this place that will never make sense to me. It's up to you to decide if I still count as her. I don't know how to be anyone else.

[She adjusts her sunglasses, leaning in towards the camera and adds, in an entirely pleasant and matter-of-fact tone:]

Now. Can anyone tell me where the fuck my brother wound up? His stuff's still here, but he's not answering his phone. If Wonderland was seriously enough of an asshole to take him away before I got back, I'm going to start setting things on fire until I get him back.

[She reaches to turn off the camera, then hesitates. Nothing matters as much as finding Shaun, but that doesn't mean nothing else matters. She's Georgia Mason, for better or for worse, and she has a paper to run.]

Until I find him, address all queries about The Shattered Mirror to me. Thank you.

[She cuts the feed. Now she gets to wait. She's held herself together this long. She can manage another week. Fuck she hopes it's not more than a week.]
jivitadana: (> ♪ Colla parte...)
[personal profile] jivitadana
[Winter was now over and spring had just started. Minato kind of missed the snow, but at least the weather was cool and comfortable instead of being too cold. For a change of pace as he wandered outside, now that the space event was over, he decided to head to the Checkerboard Hills. He hadn't been there often. It was time to check it out again.

That is, if checking it out meant doing a once-over on the checkered patterns from dark to light, then ending up laying in one of the darker square patches, his comm device off to the side as he looked up at the sky.

It's spring here and spring at home. School would be starting again, if he were there and time progressed.

Were these questions even fair? Did he have too much time on his hands, playing around with or thinking about 'what if' in a place that may make him forget his existence here at all?]


..... Would you rather be dead at home or alive here?

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