fishandclips: (Not enough tea in the world for this)
[personal profile] fishandclips
[A very tired twenty-something Indian male appears on camera. His hair is a mess, disheveled as if from sleep and having shoved his hands through it a few too many times, and his clothes appear to have been slept in. Because they have. Mahir sighs and pushes his glasses up his nose before he addresses the camera.]

Hello. Wonderland, is it? As in Alice and, I presume. I’m afraid to say that kind of fantasy literature has never been my particular cup of tea. My name is Mahir Gowda. I am the head of the factual news division of the After the End Times news site, although I doubt that means much here. Perhaps it’s a sign of exhaustion, or stress, or my colleague’s particular brand of insanity has suddenly mutated and become contagious, but if this is a delusion, it’s a very convincing one.

I don’t suppose anyone would be so kind as to point me to a very strong cup of tea? If I’ve truly been kidnapped to an alternate dimension, I assume that calling my wife is out of the question. If she hasn’t divorced me yet, she certainly will be after this.

...I may need something a bit stronger than tea, on consideration.
choosetruth: (832255_original)
[personal profile] choosetruth
Great, a trip down memory lane. Just what I was hoping I'd get for my birthday.

[With the deadpan tone and the face that's expressionless as ever under her sunglasses, it's hard to tell if Georgia's being sarcastic or not. She sits at her desk in the After the End Times office, posture rigid, hands in her lap.]

As many of you might have guessed, the latest event was my own. I suppose it could have been Shaun's, but I suspect there would have been actual zombies to play with if this were coming from his memories. But no, politics and conspiracies. That's more my wheelhouse. Besides, Sacramento is the city I died in.

[Her tone remains as measured and professional as her expression. These are facts. There's no reason to get emotional about something as cut and dried as facts.]

The paranoia, the constant fear... this is what my team has been working to try and overcome, to spread truth instead of misinformation, to overcome the lies and the bullshit and make people understand the facts. People are afraid. The choices they make often don't actually do anything to make them safer, just keep them afraid. Zombies are not as big a problem as the people in power would have you believe. Most of the outbreaks I've faced that were within residential areas, as opposed to in actual hazard zones, came about due to sabotage and terrorism, not normal zombie activity.

[And it was often to try and silence her and her team. That sure doesn't help her sleep at night.]

I'd apologize for putting you all through this, but I know as well as anyone else that this is on Wonderland, not me. I would have stopped it if it were within my ability. I don't hate my world, believe it or not. It might be fucked up, but it's home. That doesn't mean I wanted anyone else to experience it.

[There's a lot of things she didn't want.]

That being said, if you enjoyed the blogging portion of the event, please be aware that the Shattered Mirror is always accepting submissions. [A beat.] Also be aware that we do not accept Stanfeed style articles. Thank you.

01 | Video

Aug. 9th, 2017 12:55 am
talesuntold: (12)
[personal profile] talesuntold
[Maggie can fake calm and composed quite well when she has an audience. She manages to keep the faint edge of hysteria out of her voice long enough to broadcast this.]

Hello, darlings. This is quite the genre shift!

I admit that my last cup of tea wasn't strictly tea. I don't, however, recall spiking it with something this strong. Even in my party girl phase I was never on any drug that triggered hallucinations so vivid.

While I'm sure it will make wonderful inspiration one day, now is a very inconvenient time for me to be crazy. That role is already occupied on my team. The story just wouldn't work with two of us trying to fill it.

If anything I say is getting through my delusions to the ears of someone real, would you please run and fetch Auntie Maggie an antipsychotic?
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.]
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!]
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.]
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!
watchmaker: (pic#1007300)
[personal profile] watchmaker
Since my last advice post was such an utter success, I've decided to throw my hat back into the ring. If you weren't around before, this is how it goes: ask me for help, and I'll give you some of my uniquely qualified advice. What makes me so qualified, you may ask? Well, I happen to know everything.

[this is a great distraction from father's day when all your father figures were shit bags and also where the fuck is peter??? he can only spend so much time skulking around areas where peter usually frequents like a neglected cat.]
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!]

[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.
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!]
adaptiveimmunities: (don't mention her name)
[personal profile] adaptiveimmunities
For the time being please direct all inquiries regarding The Shattered Mirror's newsie and fictional divisions to this blog. Georgia Mason and Georgette Meissonier have both disappeared from Wonderland.

And as a personal side note, with both of my co-editors MIA, I'm not going to be in any kind of mood to deal with bullshit, so if we could keep any "it'll be okay," and "they'll probably be back" or whatever to a minimum, that would be fantastic.

Thanks.

[002] text;

Mar. 5th, 2017 10:47 pm
watchmaker: (pic#1005448)
[personal profile] watchmaker
A few things have occurred to me in the time that I've been here. Mainly, that I really need a hobby. So I've decided to give back. I'm compassionate, wise, and over-brimming with life experience.

So, ask me anything. This is a test-run for an advice column I may or may not actually run based on how much Wonderland is in dire need of my help.
choosetruth: (this is the story we needed to write)
[personal profile] choosetruth
Are you happy here?

Don't answer immediately. Take a minute to think about it. It's a complicated question. The concept of happiness is vague and hard to define, especially if we try and generalize it for all people. Certainly, there are moments of joy to be had here. As far as cages go, the gilding on this one can't be denied. Anything you want for free? The ability to come back to life without a hunger for human flesh? Eternal youth? No one is starving to death here. Everyone has a bed and a roof. Compared to a lot of the places people come from, this place is downright utopian even including the events. I know I'm dead at home. That's almost enough to counterbalance the lack of internet. Almost.

There are a lot of reasons to be happy here. All we're giving up is freedom, and how many of us even really have that at home? It's the permanent all-expenses-paid resort vacation no one asked for, and time isn't moving so it's not like we're even missing anything.

You know who was especially happy here? The people who lived in the Wonderland we all dreamed about in December. The ones who didn't remember ever living anywhere else. Talk about a happy ending. No one fighting, no one in pain, everyone living every day in pure, ignorant bliss.

I've called Wonderland a lie before, and I maintain it, but it's the worst sort of lie because it's so very tempting to believe it. Would it really be so bad to give in and just be happy? Why fight it when it isn't our call, when we are powerless to do anything but try and survive whatever Wonderland throws at us?

I say bliss is overrated. What's the point of being happy when you aren't yourself anymore? Is it really a vacation if you have no choice but to take it? There's so much here that we know isn't right. If we give in to being happy, we risk complacency, and if we get complacent, we risk losing the opportunity to rise up when we can.

I'm not saying you shouldn't enjoy the good times Wonderland gives us. God knows they're few and far between. Be happy. Just never forget everything Wonderland gives us is the equivalent of giving a favorite pet a nice toy. Wonderland is pampering us because it is using us. The minute we forget that is the minute Wonderland owns us. None of us are free. Never forget that.

So am I happy here?

It doesn't fucking matter.
cuteshit: (73)
[personal profile] cuteshit
[The video feed shows Kanji leaning against the counter in the diner, his chin in hand as he props himself up on one elbow. He's still wearing his blue apron, but it looks like he's been taking a break from his usual clean-up duties for a little while now, frowning to himself thoughtfully.]

I got a question for you, Wonderland. Riley an' I were talkin' about events awhile back, and I've been thinkin' about it ever since. A lot of 'em have been pretty rough lately, right? But sometimes you hear people say that they're not always bad, that sometimes they're kinda fun. People seem to be havin' a rough time lately, so maybe it's time we thought about some of the positives of Wonderland, instead. Long as we're stuck here, we might as well.

So, tell me: what events have you seen here that you really liked? Maybe someone's asked this before, but if they did, I missed out on it. I heard there were a bunch of puppies once, that sounds like it was probably a good one. I thought Hogwarts was pretty fun, but I know it wasn't like that for everyone. If you can't think of any events you liked, maybe just talk about some of the good stuff that mighta happened to you here. Friends you've made you wouldn't have gotten to meet elsewhere, stuff like that.

I'll be in the diner all day if anyone wants to talk in person.

[Later in the afternoon, anyone who comes into the diner will find that he's abandoned his post at the counter, having taken up residence in a corner booth with his mop and bucket resting against the wall nearby. He's made himself comfortable in the booth itself, sitting length-wise with his feet sticking out of the end, several sheets of paper spread out across the table with the Rabbit Hole's basic menu next to them as a reference. There are a few scrapped attempts already-- sketches in colored pencil of menu designs he's decided he doesn't like, but it's pretty clear that he's undertaken a Project.]
plutonicideals: (317_09541 copy)
[personal profile] plutonicideals
[When the video turns on, there's Riley, and she's holding up what looks to be at least a few sheets of posterboard. On the very front is a drawing of a smiling planet that looks like it's holding a heart.]

Ooookay, so it's come to my attention that there are a lot of people here that don't know about Pluto, the last planet in Earth's solar system. I'm going to change that. First things first! This is what Pluto looks like. We got pictures back recently and it looked like it had a huge heart on it. [And she'd totally called it before the pictures even got recieved too, having always said Pluto had a lot of heart.]

I couldn't get the actual picture so I asked Maya to draw it.

[And she drops that top piece of posterboard, revealing something that looks like a bulleted list???]

The first important thing is that Pluto used to be a planet. Eventually a bunch of scientists decided it was too small to be an actual planet though, so they called it a dwarf planet instead. From the time it was discovered to when it got demoted to a dwarf planet, it didn't even have a chance to go all the way around the sun! Because it's that far away from us! That's pretty unfair, since Pluto never really got a chance.

[She huffs.]

That's why I still call it a planet, though. I'm always gonna believe that it's a planet, even if everything says it can't be. We don't know what it could do or anything about it because it's so far away. I just wanted to make sure that everyone here knew that.
easily: (someday love will find me in the rough)
[personal profile] easily
Video;

I realize this is my first time addressing the network directly so for those who don't know me my name is Rebekah Mikaelson and I've been here a few months now. And for those from worlds similar to my own might know that today is Valentine's Day, a overly commercialized holiday aimed at those who are in love which is all well and good if you have someone to spend it with but can be somewhat disappointing if you're single [like she is, currently, not that there isn't someone she'd like to spend the holiday with but that's another can of worms entirely] so I wanted to extend an offer:

If people want to meet me at the bar tonight we can have a little informal get together and bond over our states together, drink, and try to distract ourselves from cryptic messages from mice. It doesn't matter if we've met before or not, the offer is extended to whoever wants to take it.

That is all.

Action;

[And true to her word, Rebekah can be found at the bar like she announced. She's ordered a row of shots of vodka to begin with and when people arrive she'll be handing off shots to them as a sort of welcoming gesture. If she had had the idea sooner perhaps she could have thrown something more impressive but for now she'll have to simply make do with what she has.

In any case, it beats drinking alone.
]

[ooc: feel free to do top levels/use this as a mingle if you want to, I thought it would be a fun thing to throw up for characters who might not otherwise have plans.]
beatupgrass: (✘ that's just bloodloss.)
[personal profile] beatupgrass
[what we have here is a view from Rocket's work bench- the communicator propped up against something, giving everyone a view of the various bits and bobs and the raccoonoid, himself, whose currently taking things apart and putting them back together as he talks.]

So I've been gettin' kinda bored lately, which, incidentally, is bad for everyone's health, if you get what I'm sayin'. [that might sound like a threat, but everyone who knows him well enough knows that he's... just talking about the dangers of his nasty habit of making bombs of varying danger levels and then setting them in the hedge maze to see how fast he can find and disarm them.

that poor hedge maze doesn't deserve that.]


So I figure... what the hell? The crap you get from the closets is just what it is- crap. Ain't got no finesse to it. If you want a real weapon, you gotta get it from an expert. Ergo a guy like me.

[he pauses to snip a few excess wires on the thing he's building.] Normally, I'd charge for this, but this stupid shithole don't got nothin' that resembles an economy, but I figure we can work somethin' out. Events get pretty hairy sometimes. I help you out, maybe you can help me out someday, and we'll call it square and we don't have to get all mushy about it.
lamiae: (┈ hundred + forty-eight.)
[personal profile] lamiae
[ it took her forever to hit send on this one, agonizing over whether or not she really wanted to hear the myriad of potential responses. she talked to bonnie (and to some degree, daenerys) about it last month, but there's a part of her that's curious -- that wants to know where the rest of the mansion stands. ]

i'm not homesick.
i'd like to find a way out, but i don't really want to go home.
is that bad?
adaptiveimmunities: (Default)
[personal profile] adaptiveimmunities
It's going to be short and sweet this time, everyone. George and I really enjoyed the holidays, and candy-kid? Thanks. Super, sugared-up thanks.

But this isn't about the nice presents (which again--thanks). We each got a thumb drive in our stockings with a lot of numbers and words that this dumb Irwin is just too dense to understand, even with George's help. So we were both wondering if there are any science types out there with expertise in virology or human cloning, who can make the long fancy words into something a little more accessible.

Thanks in advance.

P.S. If you're listening, Wonderland Santa? I'm looking for a rocket launcher in my Easter basket. I'll settle for grenades.

001 [text]

Jan. 3rd, 2017 02:49 pm
expatriates: (29)
[personal profile] expatriates
Happy New Year. :)

[ Which is, of course, notable only in that it puts her give or take six months ahead of the timeline she was working prior to her arrival here. But putting words to it anchors her. ]

This is Natasha Romanoff. Looks like I'm experiencing a little WonderlandTM Amnesia. If you could fill me in on the particulars of how we knew each other, I'd appreciate it.

And, while I admire everyone's patience with new arrivals, feel free to spare me the welcome packet. "Welcome to Wonderland, you can't leave by your own design, sometimes people come and go +/- their memories of Wonderland." I think I've managed to sift through most of the basics.
littledhampir: ♫ What kind of fuckery is this? (Yeah I m side-eyeing you okay.)
[personal profile] littledhampir
| Action & Threadjacking encouraged! She's in the Kitchen.|

[It's very rare that Rose graces the network in Wonderland, only having appeared once since she arrived here. That in and of itself makes this particular video rather curious. The subject at hand, likely one that's playing on everyone's mind but has Rose looking more than a little unsettled, despite her attempts to play at casual.

Clearly, she thinks the best way to deal right now, is to attempt to overdose on sugar; A plate piled high with an assortment of pastries, appearing in the corner of the shot.]


So... That whole thing with the Wonderland that wasn't really Wonderland?

[Her eyes narrow, teeth running over her lower lip as she carefully considers what she wants to say before giving it voice.]

We're all in agreement that it didn't really mean anything, right? It was just some, fake, alternate... you know, thing?

[She's obviously reaching but all this 'sciencey crap' is way outside of Rose's wheelhouse.]

Another one of Wonderland's stupid little mind games. [The unmistakable air of somebody trying to convince herself.

Rose breaks off a large chunk of a donut and pops it into her mouth, a flicker of doubt creeping in as she chews slowly.]


Right?
thisismadfreaky: (Go on)
[personal profile] thisismadfreaky
[How many days has this been going on, again? He isn't even sure any more. He sleeps, but it's not restful because he wakes up in another version of Wonderland every time and he's awake the whole time there and-- ay dios mio, everything's a mess. He's exhausted and has taken to mainlining coffee when he's awake just to attempt to function.

And misery loves company, right?]


Does anybody else feel like time and sleep have both lost all meaning by now? Because I'm not sure I know what either of them are any more. This has to end sometime, doesn't it? Come be miserably awake with me, Wonderland. At least if we're talking, we aren't sleeping and at least it's on our own terms. Or something. I don't know, I'm tired, come keep me virtual company.

[ooc; just so y'all know, if I make public posts, everyone feel free to threadjack everywhere to everyone all the time. I love that shit. Blow it up. I welcome it.]
adaptiveimmunities: (Default)
[personal profile] adaptiveimmunities
[The video opens on Shaun standing at the entrance to the hedge maze, where there is a sign that says "Paintball Adventure In Progress!!" Next to him are several totes filled with a variety of paintball guns in any style you can imagine, and on his other side are another few totes filled with water balloons, which may be filled with water, paint, or glitter water (Shaun likes your style, Mabel Pines). He bounces on his toes a couple of times before grinning at the camera.]

So, I think after literally hell and all of the other crap we've all been through lately, it might be nice for us all to blow off some steam. To that end, I've decided that anyone whose into it should jon me in the hedge maze for a paintball fight extravaganza. We have guns, guns, and more guns. [He motions to the totes on his left.] And to those of you who are more AOE minded, we have balloons. [He motions to the totes on his right.] Or you can combine the two. Whatever trips your trigger.

I've also set up a number of traps inside the maze, so anyone who doesn't want to play should probably steer clear until we're finished in here. I'll take down the signs when we're done and I've taken everything down.

[He reaches into one of the bins and picks up a gun, slinging it over his shoulder.]

See you on the other side, Wonderland.

[OOC: Most of the traps Shaun has set up are basic tripwires with glitterbombs or glitter paint. He's not getting too fancy, because he just wants to have fun here. There's a lot of glitter, folks. Feel free to assume your paintball guns are loaded with glitter pellets. Shaun is feeling like being silly, because he's actually feeling pretty awful right now and he wants to try to cheer up. What better way to cheer up than by shooting paint at people?

P.S. None of the paint pellets are red. It's all ridiculous florescent and weird colors. Also, there is as much or as little protective gear as you could want. Shaun will probably stick to eye gear only, but he's providing anything else people could want before entering the fray.

So I'm going to put up a few starters, but feel free to treat this as an open log and put up your own and mingle with each other. The only reason this isn't a log post as well is because I didn't want to put up two posts back to back.

LET'S HAVE A PAINTBALL FIGHT, WONDERLAND!]

Video

Dec. 11th, 2016 03:35 pm
bowsniper: (Default)
[personal profile] bowsniper
[ If anyone has been on the grounds for the past few weeks they would have noticed the shooting range has been under construction. Clint had gotten tired of it looking like the next arrow he shot was going to knock then entire facility down- plus any reason to keep busy and not think about one best friend assassin that had disappeared was good enough for him. Robyn and Nathaniel had stopped by to lend a hand but Clint was down there almost non-stop getting it ready.

And he was pretty proud of how it turned out.

It was reason enough for him to open up a video feed, panning over the range before he propped the phone up on the table he was sitting at so people could see his face.
]

What's up Wonderland? I'm sitting here in the new and improved shooting range. The last one looked like a strong wind was going to knock it down so I made some adjustments, some improvements and its now open for all you shooting needs.

[ He panned the camera over to a clipboard that was tacked up to the wall. ]

I've also added a sign up sheet for anyone who is interested in teaching and anyone interested in learning. Normal rules apply, don't do anything stupid, you're responsible for your own actions here. And please if you have never used a bow or a firearm sign up and learn before you shoot your eye out, or someone else's.

[ He gives the camera a stern look. He's watching you all.]

I'll be down here for a while if anyone wants to start now.

[ With that the video cuts out and Clint goes back to target practice. ]



[ OOC: Please note I added instructor signups to the shooting range post I linked. I figured it was a good place for people to be able to look and see who is teaching in case they wanna contact the player. ]
transmutate: (mikado-icons-lj-5)
[personal profile] transmutate
[There's a teenage boy staring at the camera for just a fraction too long before he starts to speak. Ed's a smart kid, and while he doesn't have any kind of phone remotely like this back home, he figured out how to use it pretty quickly. Still, he's done a lot more listening and watching and reading than actually communicating with other people through it. He wants to make sure he understands it fully before he uses it.

But he's ready now. Once he's satisfied that it's recording, he nods, then sits back.]


Hi. I'm Edward Elric. I'm an Alchemist. But from what I've heard, that doesn't mean anything to most of you. But even if you don't have alchemy, you do have science, right? What do the scientists of your worlds study?

[There, question posed successfully. He's mastered this fascinating device. He turns it off, and waits for people to reply.]
accelerate: (Default)
[personal profile] accelerate
( BACKDATED TO DEC. 1 )


[ it's evident barry's at the bar — or a bar, given how his phone's sort of sitting on the top of a tipped over bowl that had held peanuts — with a few empty bottles around him. his efforts to get drunk have proven fruitless, but barry allen is determined. ]

So, uh … [ barry looks a little tired, hair a slight mess, but he's not slurring his words. he wishes he was. ] What are you supposed to do when someone leaves? Does time kind of stop? Do rabbit holes appear out of nowhere for people to fall upwards out of?

[ it wasn't really covered in the pamphlet how you're supposed to react when someone just up and disappears. barry's never been good at that. he's tried running and he's almost going to catch a cold with how wet he always is. (his clothes are a little damp from running so fast and him winding up spluttering in the pool.) ]

Iris — Iris West, she went home. [ without him, but that's implied by how his tone drops and then picks up quickly, almost like barry doesn't need to take a breath. ] Can someone bring me a brownie? I kind of ate all the ones I brought with me and all I've got is peanuts. [ he flicks a shell a little too fast, a very brief flash of gold sparking. ] And maybe a broom. I kind of made a mess. Sorry ...
choosetruth: (there's change coming once and for all)
[personal profile] choosetruth
If there's one thing I've learned about Wonderland in the weeks that I've been forced to start calling it home: it's that it lies to you.

But so do lots of people, right? Everyone has a reason to lie. Some people lie to hurt other people, but some people lie out of kindness. Some people try to protect you with comforting falsehoods. How do we know that Wonderland isn't lying for our own good?

I can't tell you that. I don't know Wonderland's motivations, if there even is any sort of guiding intelligence behind it and not just pure chance.

What I can tell you is this: it doesn't matter. Lying out of kindness is just as bad as lying out of cruelty. Possibly even worse. Comforting falsehoods might be nicer in the moment than cruel truths, but I'll take the truth every time. Is it better to spare a family by telling them their dying child might get better? Or to allow them to cherish the time they have left? Is it better to tell someone their writing is good? Or send them an honest critique that could let them actually improve until you could say so without it being a lie?

Is it better to lose the memories that have hurt you and spend a weekend in blissful ignorance? Or hold onto every iota of the pain that has built you and remember exactly why you fight? Lies won't take the time to heal you. Only the truth can do that.

Wonderland is the biggest lie I've ever seen. I cannot promise a way out of this gilded, wonderful cage. That would be a lie, even if it's one I'd like to believe. I can only promise that I'll do everything I can to find the truth all of those lies are working at concealing. I won't quit until I uncover all the secrets Wonderland is hiding.

Or until Wonderland gets tired of all the prodding and sends me home. Here's hoping, right?

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