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. )

( voice )

Jul. 2nd, 2017 09:15 pm
tobelieve: (XL)
[personal profile] tobelieve
How often should I expect to not be myself?

( Yes, hello. Helena's hoping that she's doing this right -- it's the first time that she's sent a message to the network at large )

I know that we frequently expect events, but not every one would turn me into a creature or... something else.

( She also doesn't know what most of those things from the last event were. Where's Pete or Claudia when you need them? They'd have had some ideas, she expects )

For as unpredictable as all of this is surely there's a proportion, or some pattern -- how frequently you've become something else compared to how often you've remained yourself. I don't believe in that many coincidences.
nascensibility: doesn't mean I'm not an adult (just because I'm awesome)
[personal profile] nascensibility

[Download Full-Size]


A little over a year ago I provided the mansion with an instructional...brochure of sorts, to better orient newcomers and in particular those who are not from what can only be considered the "modern" era.

[One great unfairness about Wonderland is its tendency to forget that a number of the people living in it are not from time periods that utilise microwaves, for example, or even know what they are. The learning curve is steep for the temporally disadvantaged.]

Seeing as these sorts of publications are only successful when circulated and given the appropriate communal response, I think it only fair to extend the offer of amending any aspects to account for the amenities people may add to our shared residence in the future.

I'm going to leave a number of these in the foyer and on reading tables in the library, but would appreciate it if others would assist in forwarding the file to new residents should in-person explanations become untenable.

[All this just in time for the recent appearance of the dormouse on the network, heralding another event - it makes this particular announcement the more appropriate, since she hasn't been as public a figure lately for personal reasons. Evelyn collects herself for a moment before continuing, because as a long-time resident it is incumbent upon her to broach the issue if only to gather perspectives.]

...additionally, I would like to hear opinions on the notion of holding a public forum about mitigating damages - not necessarily the public safety issue as discussed in previous network announcements, but approaching the aftermath of disasters, both wrought by Wonderland and its residents.

[Only in part does this come from a place of emotion, but the greater percentage stems from practicality. If people are to peaceably live in the same spaces then it must be a team effort, from all sides.

Herself included.
]

This is not to rally a police force. This is not to encourage mob-like behaviour. This is to calmly, openly discuss the subject of accountability and greater communication.
mydude: (Let your body go with the flow)
[personal profile] mydude
[For someone with long ears and what is clearly a giant wizard hat, this guy's apparently gotten a handle on his device rather quickly. He stares with severe disdain into the camera for a long moment before finally speaking:]

So? I'm waiting. Where are you two? I figure this is some, what. Weird extension of the challenge? Am I supposed to find that fakey-fake bachelor and take him on a date or something? Because this is not even close to the venue I'd pick.

[Actually, this place is kind of swanky in a way Taako appreciates, but he's not about to say that to these chucklefucks.

Ah, shit. Wait. He's gotta stay positive. Time for a big ol' smile.]


I mean. I'm only asking because I bet this would better fit one of the other boys? Where did they end up, by the way? We did sort of sign up for this whole deal as a threesome, after all. I bet we can make that work with this dating thing, probably. Sounds kinky, am I right?

[He waits another long moment, his smile growing more strained. When he doesn't get the response he expects, he just speaks through gritted teeth:]

I...guess I'll just wait for some lovestruck maniac to attack me or something, then! Sounds. Just great. Baller.

[And the broadcast ends.]
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.]
beatupgrass: (✘ i'd like some welfare please)
[personal profile] beatupgrass
[The audio feed clicks on and from the noises of rummaging and throwing things going on, you'd think it was accidental, but it's not. Rocket's just... a little distracted.]

Two months?! Two years I get stuck in this hellhole, and when it finally lets me go home, all's I get is two lousy months? What the hell is that?!

[It's hard to tell if he's talking about Wonderland or something he's found in his searching.] C'mon. C'mon... Where the flark is it?

[a loud crash as Rocket upsets something, curses, and then keeps thrashing around.] I'm back, by the by. Had a real shitfuck of a day too, thanks for asking. Heard there was some weird Mirror crap going on, and I'm gonna- shit that ain't it either.

[another curse and the sound of something thunking against the wall.] I'm gonna ignore that for now, but if any Mirrors around here really wanna screw with me, it's a good way for you to see how much your freakin' Queen loves you. 'Cause I will kill you. Full stop.

[the thrashing stops and you can almost hear Rocket panting from the exertion.] Did somebody break into my room and mess with my stuff? 'Cause you're an idiot if you think I wouldn't find out. Trust me, I ain't above using my-

[a pause, a sudden intake of breath.] -nose. [the communicator is picked up and carried away, the sound of someone's tiny claws bouncing on the floor the only sound they pick up. Rocket's only holding it because he isn't sure if he's found what he needs to yet.

But he must have, because the communicator hits the floor suddenly with a thunk, and a relieved sigh can be heard.]
There it is...

[ooc: ROCKET IS BACK FROM HIS CANON UPDATE. Spoilers from GotG Vol 2 will probably live here.]
wriggedywrecked: by <user name="bureiku"> (every single person in this room is)
[personal profile] wriggedywrecked
[The feed opens with Rick clearly armed to the teeth. He's got at least three guns and probably a lot of smaller ones hidden away. He's like Gun Grandpa. Gun Grandpa loves his grandkids very much, and by grandkids I mean guns. His hair isn't bad. One thing I want to get in here is that if he sees a gun, he legally owns it. He's part scientist, part alcohol, part UFO, part spacetime, part grandpa, all grandpa, all guns.]

[Anyway, memes aside.]


So fuck this event, I'm d-done with this bullshit evil twin trope. I'm going Mirror hunting. Gonna murder the fuck out of a bunch of these losers. Angry mob style. Anyone in?

[Gun Grandpa--I mean Rick--can be found anywhere in or around the mansion, literally trying to find Mirrors and kill them. Get RICKED, mofos.]

text;

May. 16th, 2017 12:50 pm
thecourier: (080)
[personal profile] thecourier
someone or some damn thing in this place killed evelyn.
whoever, or whatever you are you better fuckin pray to any god you have that i never find you.
hearttheft: (swooshy sounds)
[personal profile] hearttheft
[ Roughly the first hour of Akira’s Wonderland existence is spent holed up in a tea room, his dead cell phone abandoned for the new communicator and his expression a mask of mild but definite fascination. Some horror too - the UI on this thing could really use a rework - but Futaba, really? Ann? Morgana, you weren’t supposed to mow down the greenery. God knows what Yusuke got up to besides searching for new and magical pigments in highly dangerous places, Akira imagines.

Not that it seems that the Phantom Thieves are known here let alone feared or pursued by what approximates a police force. But his wincing is reflexive; everything in him wants to avoid attention after, well. What ended up happening. Limited browsing on the network indicates that people may not know and that advertising a trauma that might have been their fault wouldn’t be the wisest action ever.

So, introductions. Akira needs to get his hands on these reins again ASAP.
]

Sorry for the upset my friends might have caused last week. No invasions from outer space or otherwise will be happening. We come in peace.

I hope the hedge maze is okay, also. Those take a lot of time to grow. Related, I worry a bit that the belief that plants have feelings may take on a somewhat literal capacity in a place of magic like Wonderland is.

But for now you can call me Joker. Not the first and not the last new resident but one nonetheless. I’d like some recommendations on Wonderland-musts if it’s possible.

Please don’t say “dying.” I’m waiting on that one with any luck.


[ Is that enough for a gentleman thief to say? As for the rest of them… How does one convene a secret group of supernatural thieves while being both cryptic enough for protection and friendly enough to ward off the kind of unease that being cryptic evokes? ]

And finally, Phantom Thieves assemble?

[ Nailed it. ]
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.
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?
forwearemany: (Headflaps)
[personal profile] forwearemany
(The robot in this feed is probably recognizable, if only because they regularly post to the network. They're chattering, headflaps flicking in a manner that may possibly indicate excitement.)

Greetings, we are Legion, a terminal of the Geth.

This location is from our universe. We are willing to provide assistance as needed.
normandysbest: (« [Proud] you did good kid)
[personal profile] normandysbest
[The camera opens on Shepard standing against a display wall, with a bunch of chatter going on behind her. There's some text displayed, but it's too big to be seen through the limited scope of the video. She smiles, and mock salutes with two fingers.]

Gotta say, out of all the things Wonderland could've drawn from for me, this is probably the best end of the deal. So hey everybody, welcome to the Citadel. Yes, you're in space. No, you don't need a suit unless you wanna go outside, and I wouldn't recommend it.

[She swaps the video feed for a few moments to outside her surroundings, showing a crowded view of the Silversun Strip, and then back to her face.]

The Citadel's the hub of galactic government in my universe. Lots to do, lots to see. You've probably all got omni-tools, but they're pretty basic to learn. In general, try to stay away from any places that look seedy, and if it's illegal where you come from, it's probably illegal here. Otherwise, go wild. If you need directions, the holographic terminals are VI information guides. Ask 'em whatever. Or, y'know, you've got the extranet in the palm of your hands, so you can just search it yourself.

[She looks like she's gonna stop, and then grins a little bit wider.]

Oh, and one more thing...

[She steps away from the wall to show she's standing in front of a display sign. A very particular display sign.]

I re-maxed my high score at the Armax combat arena. I'll buy anyone who can beat me without cheating a free meal. Good luck.

[She winks, and cuts the feed.]
mviw: (80)
[personal profile] mviw
Hello Wonderland! This is Dr. Pines speaking.

Out of curiosity, how many of you have been to different dimensions, not counting this one? Alternate worlds? Other parallel planes of existence? Or... engaged in any form of time travel, for that matter. How did you do it? Was it even on purpose, or by some fluke?

I myself spent three decades adrift in the multiverse. Fascinating stuff.

[PRIVATE TO FIDDLEFORD & STAN]

Stanley, Fiddleford--

--We need to dismantle the portal in the basement and we have to do it as soon as possible. I can't just let that thing sit around being dangerous.

Fiddleford and I should be able to take it apart with no problems, but Stanley, since you did push to have it built in the first place I thought it was only fair to tell you what I want to do.

[There's a brief, awkward pause, and then...]

I've hurt enough people with my recklessness.

video

Mar. 17th, 2017 10:10 am
fulllifeconsequences: (* Nothing useful.)
[personal profile] fulllifeconsequences
[They're outside the mansion. Judging from the background noise of rushing water, they've propped their camera up on the fountain. The feed is otherwise silent as they fiddle with components - PVC piping, a can of hairspray, PVC glue, all the usual expected components that scream "misguided attempt at a backyard potato gun." Because that's what they're making. A misguided attempt at a backyard potato gun.]

Amazing, the things the closets will just let you have. Few people seem to consider what being a child in Wonderland means. Bedtime is never, there's no such thing as education, and you can eat nothing but Twinkies and Cap'n Crunch if you want to. I kill the time by working in a diner, and nobody breathes a word about child labour.

Guess it's pretty lucky we never have to worry about growing up, because we're probably learning some pretty messed up things. People like me aren't supposed to have limitless freedom. It's bad for us. We abuse it.

Oh well.

What do you think would happen if I fired a grenade out of this thing?
noreason: (The ghosts come to play)
[personal profile] noreason
[It's dark on the grounds--it ought to be since it's just a bit before midnight--but that isn't much of a problem for Naoki. He's giving off a soft teal glow that makes it hard to make out his features and expression.

He rocks on his feet before climbing up on the edge of the fountain and balancing there, hands out at his sides. Standing still is hard for him. He's not looking at the feed, which wavers as he holds it in one hand, but he knows it's recording and addresses the network.]


What do you do when you can't sleep?
wriggedywrecked: by <user name="bureiku"> (i've got opinions about horses and you)
[personal profile] wriggedywrecked
[It's Tiny Rick! Your favorite guy. That lovable teenage fucko. He's standing up on one of the beds and holding out his phone like he wants to take a selfie as he broadcasts, mostly so he can gesture at the camera with his free hand.]

Alright, li-listen up, preschoolers. I know ev-everyone wants to have fun in the Silent Hill lab with the pudding monsters, being children and what the fuck ever, b-but this is not all f-fun and games and endless disappointments from Konami. Dr. A and Frisk h-have explained this whole, the whole creepy lab and creepy pudding things, but I'm here to tell you about this kid bullshit. That's right, fuckos, we-we've got, got two goddamn simultaneous fucking events on our hands, and it's, it's complete fucking, it's bullshit. Tiny Rick was a fan-favorite, and we, we already fucking tempted fate enough with rehashing the whole stolen cable plot, but fuck it, I-I guess this is just how the network's gonna run things now. Grind it into the dirt t-till no one cares anymore, right? Fuck you. D-Do you have any idea how much Werner Herzog fucking costs?

[He's getting off track, so he pauses and clears his throat.]

I-If you've been turned into a kid, y-you are not in your right body. This is not the r-real me and it's not the real you either, but you're, you're gonna try damn fucking hard to convince yourself it is, because it's real fucking tempting to, to get your youth back and relive the glory days, lemme fucking, fucking tell you. But these are just c...cl...?

[He pauses, frowning, because what the fuck is the word for it?]

...Like, copies, genetic copies, or I dunno, magic--magic bullshit constructs, who the fuck knows with Wonderland. Point is, your real body is slowly dying in a vat somewhere in this lab. You gotta find your vat and transfer your consciousness b-back into your correct body, or--fuck, Wonderland might kill us or m-make us all go through puberty again. No one wants that. No one in the entire goddamn world wants that. Trust me, it's not worth it.

[As Rick's talking, something takes shape behind him. It looks kind of like a tall, white spoon. It doesn't really do anything, just sort of hovers translucently on the opposite side of the bed from him. When he pauses and glances back over his shoulder, the thing vanishes.]

Uh...so yeah. Avoid pudding monsters, f-find your vat, get back into your real body. And if you need help remembering that you're not supposed to be a kid, listening to Elliott Smith seems to work. I-I've got his entire discography on my phone.

[He pulls said phone away and plays himself off with a sad song.]
determinedest: (* Even when you felt trapped)
[personal profile] determinedest
[The video opens on an interesting tableau. For one, the backdrop is that of mossy-green tile, a dimly lit laboratory, complete with some extremely fake potted vegetation. And that’s to say nothing of the figures present in the frame. Standing in the forefront seems to be a lizard with glasses in a lab coat, addressing the network at large. Behind her, a small child appears to be getting devoured alive by a -

Oh, wait. No they’re not. They’re actually grinning widely as they scratch the back of the...creature’s approximation of ears. It’s unclear how many dogs this counts as. Is this even really a dog? They’re definitely frothing at the mouth, making contented little bubbling sounds as Frisk scritches them beneath their chin. There’s a heavy whapping sound of something slapping back and forth across the tile as their tail begins to wag, even if the motion leaves shiny strands of their mass dribbling across the floor.

So, you know. Like any other dog.

Alphys speaks up first.]


H-Hey everyone! So, uhm...there’s an event! Which you, uh, probably already guessed, but, in the interest of, uhm, b-being informed, there’s some...things you should know. About this place and. Everything.

[She pauses, takes a nervous glance back towards the melting beast, and continues. Frisk pauses to toss her a resolute thumbs-up and a firm nod.]

These, uhm, monsters are called the Amalgamates. There’s a couple of them, uh, d-down here, but there’s no need to fight them! They’re, uhm, probably just looking for food. They won’t attack you or anything, so y-you can leave them alone. They’re not dangerous.

[Frisk sits up a little straighter, giving the Endogeny one final, reassuring pat, as they add:]

If any of them come near you, just find some food or something for them to play with. They don't mean to hurt you.

[Their tone is firm and unwavering, as resolute as their expression. Alphys, on the other hand, seems to get more nervous the longer the broadcasts stretches on, so she just cuts right to the point.]

There’s a machine that, uhm, looks like a skull around here, it’s got some wires, and tubes, and stuff? Don’t touch it. It’s, uhm, s-super dangerous, and, doesn’t do anything...good.

[Frisk's shoulders twitch in a faint wince, their gaze dropping back to Endogeny. Nothing good, no.]

So uhm. Leave that alone, t-too.

[Just as it seems like she’s going to continue, Endogeny abruptly surges to their feet with a loud, triumphant howl. The Amalgamate barrels at the camera, sending Alphys careening off screen with a small shriek. The camera goes down with her in a haphazard tumble, but at least the last shot indicates that she is, in fact, not being eaten alive. It turns out Endogeny is simply hungry, and seeing Alphys usually means it's time she fed them.

The feed rattles one last time as Endogeny's tail whips across the screen, and goes dead.]
choosetruth: (839999_original)
[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.
cloned: (SB017nebulosities_zps37f04d9b)
[personal profile] cloned
Hey again, Wonderland.

[Kon gives a half wave and a smile. He's been interviewed before, spent his entire life in the public eye up until recently, but this still feels weird. Maybe it's because of the awkwardness of the question he's asking.]

I've got a... probably unusual question. Can anyone else here fly? Specifically, has anyone else here tried flying to get out of here? I mean, it didn't work, obviously. I wasn't even surprised about that. But it was really weird. Like it's not like I ran into a block or anything like that. I just sort of... ended up where I started. And going up I just ended up not moving after a while, even though it felt like I did.

[He shrugs.]

Anyway, just wanted to know if anyone else had tried it. Cause man, I do not like it when my flying doesn't work right. It's just wrong.
wriggedywrecked: (you gotta morty)
[personal profile] wriggedywrecked
[Rick starts talking without any sort of preamble.]

So, coffee doesn't work. Caffeine pills don't work. Addy, speed, Ex, none of the usual amphetamines work. E-Even fucking--fucking kalaxian crystals don't work, I, I don't know how Wonderland managed that one.

Listen, I don't fucking g-get nightmares, okay? I yanked out that part of my brain i-in my thirties. So, so we got two options here. Either these are just Wonderland-fueled nightmares, a-and it's just, just a plain old goddamn fucked up dream event, or some of you motherfuckers are, are actually d-dreamwalking into my goddamn brainspace, and I swe-EAAAARRRRHH-r to fuck if that's the case I'm going to kill every single one of you who's c-come into my house and taken a massive subconscious shit on my mental rug.

And if it's not, then, then Wonderland can go fu--

[Abruptly, his eyes roll upward and he collapses right where he's standing. After a moment, snoring can be heard.]

video

Feb. 16th, 2017 09:04 am
blackbirdsing: (💕 62)
[personal profile] blackbirdsing
[ Sarah's lounging in bed, hair up in a ponytail, and she doesn't have much to say except: ]

Why are there no old people here? You know, like...I'm going to go out on a limb and say I definitely haven't seen anyone over 60. And I'm talking visually. Don't be a smart ass and tell me you're over 1,000, I get it, some of you are immortal or magic or...whatever. I'm just saying, no one appears to be over the age of, I don't know, post mid-life crisis.

I wonder why that would be? Wonderland has a youthful aesthetic to maintain? If you're over, say, 65 in human years, raise your hand.
nascensibility: I'm just gifted like that (liable to walk into anything and anyone)
[personal profile] nascensibility
NOTICE:

I would like to submit a formal, if belated, apology to all those who were inconvenienced by our last event1. It was from my world and no doubt had a discombobulating effect. If there are lingering queries, please direct them to me in the archival room located in the west wing of the library, first floor.

In news that is more favourable but tangentially-related: I am interested in the temporal demographics of those in residence here, as it has been some time since I last conducted a survey of this nature. I am myself from the year 1935, but as I understand it this fits into a very specific timeline from a very specific world, and there are other worlds with differing dating systems and dimension-specific technological innovations. This is not a formal study, but a personal inquiry to satisfy curiosity.

As always, I can be found in the stacks unless the day is particularly fine.

-E. O’Connell













1Said event consisted of (likely foreign and uncomfortable) early-20th century clothing in unforgiving Sudanese desert climes, a hazardous oasis with irritable locals, and frequent aural and visual disorientation.
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.
failedparenting: (28s: Character development engage!)
[personal profile] failedparenting
[Hey Wonderland, it's John Winchester back at it again. He's looking a little thinner that the last time he addressed the network, a little more bearded. Like he's been through a sickness recently but he's working through it.]

So, coming off the tail end of all that, the new year, and some shiny new meat, I think maybe it's time to go over some rules they don't tell you about in your nice little welcome packet.

[No offense to the people who work on that. But really, it doesn't have the important shit. As he goes, he holds his fingers off, ticking each point one by one. Take notes. ]

First, it won't help your sorry ass when this place decides to rewrite your mind, but always keep a stockpile of food. Cans, non-perishables, bottled water, dry beans, that kind of crap. Keep a knife and matches with it too. Basic survivalist shit. You never know when the closets are gonna rebel.

Second, learn how to use a gun. I can show you how, or Jo over in the bar, or whoever, but you need to know. Keep that handy, too.

Make some goddamn friends. I don't give half a crap if you're some lone wolf badges back home, you're not gonna survive without someone watching your back.

Stay away from those vendors, the ones out there who don't deal on money? Nothing they could give you is worth it. Fuck 'em.

[John makes a face- even thinking about those fuckers gives him the creeps.]

And finally, don't fuck with the library. Don't even entertain the idea of getting fire near it. Don't kill anyone in the goddamn library. And Jesus Christ, don't piss off the librarian. I'm not joking.

[And then, since he's never been one for conclusions or wrapping up nice and neat, he kills the feed.

There you go. Dad advice.]

text.

Jan. 19th, 2017 11:21 am
forsker: (Untitled-3 copy)
[personal profile] forsker
has anyone ever attempted to shut down travel by dimensional tear or portal or what might be referred to as some meta-physical means within wonderland or without it?

degree of success is unimportant-- i'm looking for anything pertaining to travel into wonderland, out of it, within it, to the mirror side, etc.

data is good, personal accounts are better. if you've gone to the mirror side (during a time where not everyone was invited over en masse) and are willing to offer information about your experience, that could be helpful as well.

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