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?
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!
slapfight: (△ but how can that be)
[personal profile] slapfight
[AH YES. LOOK AT THAT BEAUTIFUL SCENERY. Assuming you don't get motion sickness, because this is some definite mockumentary shit right here. The camera moves across the beautiful canyon with its creepy Jungi Ito-ian splendor, narrated by a familiar shrill voice.]

See? This is what I've been talking about! This is what I call a kindergarten, you clods. And not only is it a kindergarten, it's the Prime Kindergarten on Earth. Look at it. It's so elegant, so well-thought out.

[The camera lingers on a busted injector drill for a moment.]
Obviously, the equipment is defunct now, but in its day, this place was a well-oiled machine producing gems for Homeworld. If it wasn't for the fact that kindergartens drain planets of their resources and make them inhabitable for organic life, this one could probably still produce a few more quartzes. Heh.

[She laughs, awkwardly.]
- Oh! But you should see this. This is what the Wonderland creature was talking about- Ngh! [She holds the camera up, trying to get a view inside one of the holes, but it's... dark so there's not really much to see.] Look how perfect this hole is. The quartz who came out of this had to have been a brute. Also!  You should all know that this is actually a reproduction of the kindergarten Amethyst was made in. For those of you who knew her, which most of you should have.

[The camera shuffles around, reminding everyone to never eat before watching a mockumentary.] It would be almost perfect as a slice of home if not for one... problem.

[and she finally turns the camera around, revealing this face, wearing something like this, though with significantly less cleavage involved.] WHY DO I LOOK LIKE THIS?! I'm supposed to be in my element. Those Wonderclods are going to pay for-

[There's an unnerving sound off-camera and Peridot looks away nervously.] Oh no... I almost forgot about them.


[all replies will come from [personal profile] clodcuckoolander.]

voice; ota

Jun. 20th, 2017 12:55 pm
beautifullies: (⌘ 4)
[personal profile] beautifullies
I take it the vague message we received from a rodent today is the type of unhelpful missive people have warned me lead to events?

[ GREAT. Claire's super stoked. 100% ready to go. ]

How does one typically prepare themselves when you've no idea what's about to happen?
cloned: (SB010nebulosities_zps0eb0c81d)
[personal profile] cloned
[Kon looks extremely distressed. He's got a blue stone clenched in his hand.]

Anyone who knows Lapis Lazuli, I... [He grimaces.] People don't stay dead here, right? I... I tried to save her. I wasn't fast enough, and she just... she exploded right in front of me.

[He looks away, holding tightly to the rock in his hand. Superman wouldn't have failed.] But... she'll come back, right? That's what everyone says. That people come back?
slapfight: (△ sweet jumpin' jelly bean)
[personal profile] slapfight
 [HERE'S PERIDOT, looking like a kid in a candy store at this point, she's got her face pressed to her omnitool for a brief moment before she adjusts the screen enough so that it's not a close-up of her pores- if she had pores- and shows more of her head, and, more importantly, the hustle and bustle of the strip behind her.]

Wonderland Log #3. 

We're in the middle of a new event, one that seems to be rather... recreational in nature. At first I was apprehensive. Wonderland rarely puts us in events that are meant strictly for our own enjoyment, but after careful analysis, it does appear to be exactly what it is- a, as Earth ones say, vacation

[her voice rises in excitement]
And since my defection, I have never been farther than the Earth's moon. I can only imagine how amazing the rest of the universe is when I'm not viewing it through Homeworld's lens! This is going to be great! 

But fear not, my fellow victims to Wonderland's machinations. I know the wider galaxy is a vast mystery to Earthlings, so I'll be happy to act as an interpreter and guide. It may not be a system I'm familiar with, but heh. If you've seen one space hub, you've seen-

[Peridot's eyes track something on her left and she lets out a gasp of delight.] Oh my stars, what is that? Those are the most amazing shirts I've ever seen. The appearance modifiers here are so streamlined and elegant.  I must have them.

[and the feed clicks off, mid-log while Peridot rushes to a clothing store to indulge her inner fashionista.]
beatnomore: (43)
[personal profile] beatnomore
[ Buffy makes sure that her second entry onto the network provides a better impression than her first. So when the feed clicks on the network's first real look at her is... colorful. She's sitting cross legged at a desk wearing bright pink leggings under a purple patterned dress. Apologies to the retinas of everyone who has to view this. But she's a professional and there's no fiddling with the device once she's streaming. She just presents a brilliant, camera-ready smile. ]

Hello, Wonderland! I'm Buffy Meissonier and I'm here representing After the End Times as its Fiction lead to announce we're now actively seeking creative writing submissions. If you made it we're willing to look at it and potentially print it. This isn't limited to only fiction either. Poetry, fanfiction, creative nonfiction, humor, art... the sky is the limit so long as we can actually print it on paper.

[ She is pretty actively excited for this going by her smile. It's not quite the same as back home but the fiction department was her baby and she wants to see it up and moving again. ]

If you're curious about our submission guidelines and requirements or just have questions in general about our policies I'm here to answer them. And if you think you want to submit to the zine you can drop your entry at the After the End Times office, room 60 on the 9th floor or you can submit them to me privately through the network devices.

We're looking forward to hearing from you!
ssmisery: (brook no argument)
[personal profile] ssmisery
[Lapis isn't the kind of person who immediately responds to being trapped in a strange place by posting to its social media. Right now she's had time to acquaint herself with the situation, i.e. freak out, i.e. find a couple helpful pamphlets, poke her head inside the mansion, and then spend some time trying very hard to leave. This is just as well since everyone's already had enough of drowning for a while.

It's only after she's exhausted herself that her attention wanders to the little device waiting patiently for her, as if it knew she'd have to give up. It'd probably look smug if it could. Just in case it might actually be worthwhile somehow she even scans the recent posts, but of course there are no answers she would want. So that's what she's supposed to do, huh? Sit tight, make herself at home, and join in the hopeless little community of fellow prisoners? Lapis almost chucks the thing off the roof; she doesn't want Wonderland's garbage. And yet, here it is.

...Not that much of that matters to the audience. In text, after all, nobody can tell how much lid someone's flipping.]


I know it's too much to hope for, but you're absolutely sure this isn't some kind of personal nightmare I'm having?
It'd be a first considering I don't sleep, but the mirror thing is pretty suspect.
Your ocean is broken, by the way.


[She's sprawled out on the roof if you'd rather stumble upon her in person. Hopefully not literally.]
determinedest: (* Please forget about me.)
[personal profile] determinedest
[The last time they woke like this it was on a bed of golden flowers, silk-soft and the petals still crisp with a long-dead magic. They strain for a whiff of memory, the bittersweet cinnamon-sawdust-y scent of an old spell woven deep into the fabric of the atoms in the soil and worms and rocks.

...what? You didn't do that?


Once upon a time, a quiet voice murmured seven words to the squarish, boxy thing in their hands, fighting to keep the tremor from their tone as they intoned, evenly - I fell. I need a way back.

Once upon a time, two children scrapped in a hallway, a goose egg raised on their foreheads with forceful the collision of skulls. A Locket traded over, a contract burned and a new one writ into existence in the same instant. Once upon a time, there was a mansion that rose in stately silhouette, and memories fell from the sky in delicate filigrees of gold. A place where two children would scramble to claw into place a pair of lives that have long since fallen into disarray and dissolution, a Room 12 that swung between doubly occupied and wholly abandoned, just like the SOULs that resided within it. There are stories one can tell of stolen switchblades and careful bandages and words dipped in red, and the second chances promised to a pair of children who met with clasped hands at the edge of something broken and wished to repair it. There are stories of a pair of SOULs that hummed in tandem, of a scarlet tint and a gleam in their hearts, and the lion-hearted desire that no one else live the way they lived. They gained love and they gained LOVE, and at the end of it all, despite everything -

* It's still us.

A camera wobbles as it's steadied, positioned carefully on a table, facing the window of a room. There's a potted plant on the sill - forget-me-nots - and the curtains are half-drawn, leaving only a thin slice of opaque winter sky visible.

Immediately after, a small child scrambles into frame. They're wearing a hand-knitted sweater, and they've their instrument in hand, as always. Inevitably, they begin to play. There are no words to this melody, and thus the notes are much crisper, and it comes together with a clarity that the pieces they've played before have lacked thus far, a sense of polish and familiarity. It is, after all, a very familiar tune.

It sounds like Home.

Once they finish, they take a moment to run bandaged fingertips up the bridge of the instrument. Then they shoot a look at the camera, one reddish eye slitted open so they can smile.]


It's been a year.

[Their hair is longer, more unkempt. They've got bandages on their hands now, perpetually. They've got fresh scars along the lengths of their arms, some on their thighs. They've died twice over, once because of sickness and once because of a misplaced weapon and misplaced guilt, and they've watched friends filter into the world and then disperse once more like scattered motes of dust.

But they've got a sweater, and they have someone to teach them to play and care for their ukulele, and they have a sack full of candy. They have people who left them gifts when they were alone, who cared for their SOUL though it was dry and weary, and people who helped paint their room. They have people who offer hugs and moments of understanding and advice about the nature of the game they play and slices of butterscotch pie.

Above all else, they have - determination.]


Thank you.

[Thank you, Wonderland.

They thought they would be saying goodbye now. But it's not the end of the world.

So they won't blame themself.]
choosetruth: (847316_original)
[personal profile] choosetruth
Video

[For once, Georgia's actually using video. She's probably staring at the camera since where else would she be looking, but with her usual dark sunglasses on, it's hard to tell. She doesn't smile when she starts to speak.]

I'm looking for any Wonderland residents who have had encounters with Mirrors. I'd like to ask you a few questions to help with an article I intend to write about Wonderland and the nature of the Mirrorside.

Thank you.

[She disconnects.]

Action/Mirror Writing

[Georgia's interested in more than just the Real perspective on things. Every story has two sides, and the only way to find the truth of the matter is to hear them both. And the only way to communicate with them is to write on the mirrors. Pity a lifetime of computer usage means her handwriting is less than perfect, and that's when writing the usual direction, not backwards.

She sits in one of the tearooms next to a mirror, uncovered for once. She's frowning as she glares at it through her sunglasses. Usually her weird eyes make one-way mirrors useless, but these aren't real one-way mirrors. They're fucking magic. She'll be going in blind. She's written out what she wanted to say beforehand, though, so she can place it against the mirror and carefully write out each letter. It may not win and penmanship awards, but it's legible.]


Hello, residents of the Mirror Side. My name is Georgia Mason, head of the Factual News Devision of After the End Times.

[Not that most of them will know the paper, but establishing credentials is important. She's not just anyone. She's a journalist.]

I'm hoping I can interview a few of you for an article I'm writing about Wonderland and the nature of the Mirrorside. I want to make sure I get the perspective of people who live there so that I can keep my article as factual and free as bias as possible.

Thank you for your time.


[Then she sits back to wait. Whatever happens next, it should at least be interesting.]
determinedest: (* All you can do is FIGHT.)
[personal profile] determinedest
[The feed, when it clicks on, does not have highly auspicious beginnings. The lens is tilted skyward, granting everyone a lovely shot of the iron-gray sky. It's been raining. You can almost smell the peppery sting of petrichor, the clinging of the after-dew to blades of grass.

With the soft tick of someone's fingers fumbling over the microphone, the camera tips down until the visual is of a grassy field just outside the gardens. It's a spot Frisk commonly frequents, even as the weather grows colder.

Speaking of Frisk, they take their time adjusting the picture before they eventually enter the frame. They've got their overlarge jacket on and the cap of white wool perched on their head, and a familiar object in their hands. They settle down with their back to the camera, the slender tip of their ukulele peeking out by their shoulder, as they begin to play the instrument with slow, deliberate strums from their bandaged fingers.

Maybe you've heard the tune before.

When the impromptu performance is finished, Frisk turns their face to the camera. Their expression is as contained as always, but not, as it has been for a disproportionately long time, wholly devoid of emotion. Their eyes, when they flick them up to at last to regard the lens directly, are a dark and rusted red, perhaps a few shades darker than Chara's. They can't maintain the proverbial eye contact for long, and their eyes shutter to half-mast again.]


I've been acting kind of weird lately.

[Kind of weird. Between the way they tore through the world, mined all the numbers from the workings of the g̵̜͍ͦ̎̚͘á͉̄̇̂͠ͅm͏̨̨̬̖̋̚e̶̛̪ͤ᷅͂͝ they Played, the way they couldn't feel anything - Chara gone, and now the absence aches like a scab torn newly open, a limb newly cracked in two.

They've probably already...

Yes. Probably. If they found out, that is. Leonard needs to know it wasn't his fault. A lot of people need to know it wasn't their fault. Chara. Sans. Alphys. Ford. Mabel. Dipper. Stanley. Zacharie.

Mettaton.]


Sorry.

[A blanket apology, not nearly sufficient, and then a pause. It's not clear to where their gaze redirects itself, or if it does at all; their stare is flat, and difficult to perceive.]

...I'm better now.

[One corner of their mouth lifts in a smile, a reassuringly organic expression.

Then the video ends.]
slapfight: (△ that means it turns INVISIBLE)
[personal profile] slapfight
 [when the camera comes on, the world is treated to a close up of Peridot's face.]

So that event was a complete nightmare, like almost all of them, but something good did come out of it. Look!

[she pulls back the camera to showcase that her bodysuit now looks more like
this.] It's official! I'm a real Crystal Gem now. It took me a few days to decide how I wanted to reconfigure my appearance modifiers after my form was destabilized, but I think I have it just the way I want it.

[she's so excited that she doesn't seem to care that (a. barely anyone will know what she's talking about and (b. that her bodysuit didn't even change THAT MUCH.

in the middle of her preening, there's a chittering sound and a flutter of wings and Peridot looks up abruptly.]
....Oh that reminds me. 

[she moves the camera so it's pointing at a cluster of bats that are taking up residents in the rafters of her barn-room. she lowers her voice conspiratorially.] These weird featherless birds won't stop following me. [she turns the camera to face her again- extreme close up style] How do I make them go away? I've tried everything! I've even thrown rocks at them, and they just won't leave.

02; text

Oct. 9th, 2016 02:51 am
opticshots: (and I will take it back.)
[personal profile] opticshots
[ it's been a strange few days since the end of the hogwarts experience and tali has been uncharacteristically keeping to herself, quiet when she usually isn't. working on projects, she might insist, or just catching up on sleep. she is tinkering and sleeping more than anything else, but only because she has a lot on her mind and bringing it up unprompted is difficult. eventually, she goes to the network: ]

I knew that Wonderland could alter memories or abilities, but I didn't think that changing who you are entirely as a physical person was possible. Goes to show how much I know about this place, I guess. Or how little Wonderland expected me to be able to fit in as an alien witch. Who knows. It might have been fun.

I'm curious now: what is the strangest thing that's happened to you during one of Wonderland's little fits of reality bending? Tell me your best stories.

Oh and if anyone made friends with a Ravenclaw whose face isn't familiar now, it might have been mine. Let me know.
heroica: (you can call us what you want)
[personal profile] heroica
[ Unlike her announcement of Leliana's departure, this one does not reveal her voice. It's only text, written word with the author's feelings left implied, and less verbose than last time, too. ]

Alistair has gone. His room is empty and his things have vanished. As his fellow Grey Warden, I thought it best to inform those who may have known him.

[ Leliana, Brennan, Dorian. Alistair, too, now. All of her closest friends in Wonderland seem to be steadily vanishing (and she hasn't heard of Bethany Hawke, yet, another one who would be regretfully added to the list). ]

He was exactly what a Warden should be. He was brave and kind and with a good heart.

[ Ridiculous jokes and all.

Soon after, she sends out one private message to Anders: ]


Anders,

Alistair left behind Purrlock. Do cats and mabari get along? Could you teach me how to take care of a kitten, if you have the time?
miss_brilliant: (stunned)
[personal profile] miss_brilliant
[Amanda should be in shock. And she probably is. But she's running on autopilot, so to speak. She has the vague memory of what happened, or was going to happen, and she doesn't want to think on it. What she and Nick had been going to do if--

So, she's not. She's not thinking about feelings. She's going into scientist mode. Which means asking questions about everything except herself.

When she appears on the feed, the fingers of the hand not holding her device are notably curled in slightly and fidgeting a little, like she's not sure what to do with them. Which she's not. She looks a little dazed, but she's smiling nervously]


Ah. Hello...I'm... not really sure who I'm addressing, I'm sorry. [she laughs a little, biting her lip for just a moment before continuing] My name is Dr. Amanda Perry. I'm from Earth, which I'm going to hazard isn't where I am now. If anyone could tell me...[she hesitates; she should ask how she got here, but she's afraid she won't like the answer, given her last memory] where here is, exactly, I would appreciate it.

Also, if there's anyone from Destiny here--[another noticeable pause. Does she ask for Nick specifically? No. Not yet] I'm all right. I'm...me. Which you can see, obviously, but…[she cuts herself off, because this could get depressing fast if she goes into details about that]

Anyway, ah...I'll appreciate any information anyone can give me. Thank you.
realhumanbeing: i'll slowly wear you down and become your friend (happy ★ let me list all the ways)
[personal profile] realhumanbeing
Hi, guys!

[Steven offers a grin. He's walking through the halls of the mansion, his smartphone held out before him. Every so often he stops and glances around him, but unless someone physically appears, the people on the network are much more interesting.]

I'm Steven Universe! I'm pretty new here. I mean, I'm really new; I just found this in my pocket, but I think I woke up about ten minutes ago? Uh-- I think I'm near the kitchen. I woke up there, anyway, and now I'm in a hallway! Who are you all? Where are you from? I saw a couple people are new here too, so we've already got some stuff in common! But you should tell me about yourself even if you're not new; I want to hear about all the different places people come from!

And-- there's a couple people I was wondering if you'd heard of. They're magical gems-- Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst? They're aliens. Oh, but-- they're really great, though! Super friendly aliens, not like movies make aliens usually sound.

[OOC note: Feel free to run into Steven in the halls if you'd like!]

voice;

Sep. 8th, 2016 12:01 pm
thecourier: (070)
[personal profile] thecourier
[He sounds.. tense. Like he's half holding his breath. Still, everything he says is as clear as his drawl can make it.]

First thing-- y' see someone what looks like me, 'cept scruffier-- know what yer thinkin', 'shit, Dan, there's scruffier than you?'. Yeah. Amazin'. Longer hair, no attention t' personal hygiene, y' know--, stay the fuck away from him. I'm gonna kill him myself.

[A pause.]

Second thing, I think I need a doctor. Anyone here good at diggin' bullets out? Or, whatever. Magic. Don't care.
nonscriptum: I'd honestly be dead without it (modern medicine is amazing)
[personal profile] nonscriptum
[Nate doesn't really sleep.

Not on a normal schedule anyway; it comes with being a night owl and an obsessive researcher and a restless guy trapped in a place barely larger than some estates he's burgled, in and out in under twenty minutes. There are borders here, unseen but present, and the inability to leave has him (quite literally) climbing the walls. Somewhere between dinner and digestifs he appears on the network.
]

I'm, uh- [Not good at this.] Putting out a public inquiry about the caves - not like I've got geological questions or wanna know about the stalagmites or the Mole People - but I'm thinking more along the lines of...cartography?

[His intentions are patently obvious: Nate is already standing in front of a rocky outcrop, illuminated by a flashlight and wielding a loop of rope cast over one shoulder.]

Just curious if anyone's got a handle on the terrain. Hit me up.

[Eventually. He knows it's late, but he'll be exploring well into the wee hours, as if time matters in a cave. Intent on keeping track of the various rock formations, twisting crevices, and cavernous limestone cathedrals Nate can be found periodically in central chambers, taking notes and climbing enormous pillars with his bare goddamn hands and precious little else.]
slapfight: (△ you don't beat america)
[personal profile] slapfight
[this was in no way a good event for Peridot. oh, it had started out well enough, resistances, rebellion, standing up for the little guy, but it had all been wrong, and there for a brief moment, she was something she wasn't supposed to be. not in a metaphorical sense either. in a very real, very horrifying sense.

and then it was over. and she was back to being a gem, as if it had never happened, and was she supposed to forget that? forget that form, that body when she could remember it clearly. this is probably not bothering anyone else, but it's bothering her, and she isn't sure how to bring it up or discuss it or anything.

so she goes to her own stand-by... being bitter.]


Log Date... [she pauses, suddenly realizing she has no idea what the date even is anymore, and then goes on.] Undated Log zero-dash-zero-dash-one.

This is a public transmission from Peridot. Full designation "Peridot Facet-2F5L Cut-5XG," a gem formerly of Homeworld and currently of Earth. Allied with the Crystal Gems. [a snort escapes her- the sound pained] See that's the important word there- Gem. That's what I am. I can deny and change my intended purpose until my form dissipates, but I can't stop being a gem, am I right?

[another noise, this one more pained than the last.] As the last few days will attest, I am not right. At all. It seems whatever machinations Wonderland has in place cannot only take our memories, toy with our minds and sense of reality, and keep us locked on this miserable planet that's a poor copy of Earth, but it can also change our entire make-up on a whim. And who's to say it has to change us back? Are there people who've been stuck like this? [her voice rises, hysterical in pitch] Is this why there's a lizard that talks?? I've never seen a lizard that can speak on Earth! They just crawl around and do things with their tongues! I know, because I followed one around for most of an Earth cycle once out of sheer boredom! Maybe he was once a human, and Wonderland decided, "Why don't I just make him a lizard? It'll be great!"

[she stops mid-rant, unsure of where she was even going with this. she's fine. it's okay. she just... needed to vent about it. publicly. now the healing can begin?

right?]


Talking about what makes you feel bad is supposed to make it go away, right? Why isn't it working?

[maybe because that isn't at all talking about it, Peri.]
krmvgivv: (i told some little white lies)
[personal profile] krmvgivv
[Dipper probably shouldn't think too hard about how he's slept better than ever while thinking he's a mutant living in an especially crime-ridden area of a war-torn country with an even more criminal great uncle than usual. He shouldn't think about how the second his memories returned to him, he momentarily lost control of his powers, wrapping himself in a ball of shadows so deep and dark that only Mabel's light could bring him out of it. But he doesn't have to think about any of those things because there's a lot more important things to think about. Specifically, the fact that as usual, none of this is real. As usual, Wonderland is just messing with their heads and the fact that he has rad shadow controlling superpowers doesn't make up for that. Ok, it goes a little ways towards making him feel better, but not much!

Still, the world has to know the truth, so he wastes no time in setting up a mass video broadcast.]


Guys, I just realized that we're still in Wonderland and none of this is real! It's just another event! Mutants, humans, whatever, it doesn't matter, and I know for a fact some of you guys are neither! I mean, I'm usually human and a mutant now so whatever you think you are is definitely irrelevant, not that being racist would be okay even if we were what we think we are.

Also, is it weird that I can suddenly remember that this is an event? Usually we stay brainwashed the whole time, right? The last time things broke like this it turned out the core was screwed up and then the holes in reality started and the Mirrors stole our stuff. So uh, maybe we should be worried? I don't know. This just seems even more weird than normal.

[This isn't the first time Dipper has sent a mass broadcast with an extremely serious message about a crazy conspiracy, of course. It happens every week or so. Dipper is all about crazy conspiracy theories, most of which have very little evidence to go on. But that definitely won't make him less believable, right?? This is true!!]
radiopalkiller: (to telling only lies)
[personal profile] radiopalkiller
[ Philip sits at his desk. He briefly considers setting the scene, tidying up the stack of papers, or-- What's the point? It's his office. Nobody is going to see him. But all of Genosha is about to hear him.

He clears his throat.

And rolls his eyes at the private joke, because even like that it's getting old.
]

Due to the series of recent events I'm forced to remind all fellow mutants to travel carefully, especially near the Ridgeback Mountains region. Do not travel alone. Do not underestimate what their misguided rebellion is capable of. And remember to listen to Her Majesty's daily broadcast for further updates and information.

Long live the Queen.


[ Because he sure as bloody hell isn't going to bother reaching out like this again anytime soon. He doesn't add as much, though. Instead Philip presses a tissue to his nose, and catches the blood. Shuffles around some papers, and takes the opportunity to pause, anyway, because when his mind reaches across the island again the message plays a different tune: ]

To all homo sapiens: Our world does not need to be like this. Why try to anchor us in the past, when you could be part of our future? We are offering our help to you. If you would like to accept it, report to the science faculty at Magda University to participate in our Human Evolutionary Advancement Research Trials. Don't let the coming days be your end. Let them be a new beginning for all of us.

Never forget this: You have a chance to decide your own fate, before it gets decided for you.


[ He combs through his notes. Nope, that's that taken care of. Jesus Christ, he'll need a stiff drink now. He fumbles for a bottle in his drawer, and the phone on his desk. ]

Private Text to Ford Pines
Since as usual none of what I'm saying gets through to your tin brain, get your bloody arse over here and give me a status report on the experiments.

[[ OOC: Plotting comment is here, my contact post is here. Philip cannot read thoughts, so any replies will need to happen through other means. He won't get his memories back until late on the fourth day, so feel free to post starters across all days accordingly (or contact me if you want to set something up!) ]]
henrydaniel: (✍ 80)
[personal profile] henrydaniel
under the cut: bruce/henry. post cut: network post. )

[Well, he’s going to be grounded for the rest of his natural life. Convenient that none of his family will fall under the curse because they’re all immune. After thinking about it, all he can do is address Wonderland en masse.]

Uh. Hi. So. You guys may have...noticed people falling asleep and some purple smoke?

[Deep breath.]

It’s called a sleeping curse. And it’s from my world. It’s not supposed to go through the air like this though. It’s like the curse from Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, if you have those in your world. Poison apple, prick of a spindle or a needle...

...The only way to wake someone up
[and BOY IS HE SORRY ABOUT THIS] is true love’s kiss. But that doesn’t have to mean a romantic person. It can be a spouse or significant other but it can also be a sibling, parent, best friend. If you love that person, it should work. Otherwise...they’re just asleep. That’s all.

[And he has no idea how to wake them up.]

I think since we are in Wonderland and it only likes things to be temporary, the whole thing will end in at most a couple days. And if not I’ll work with everyone I can here to make it better. I’m...I’m really sorry? I was just trying to show one person how magic and science work together.

[Bruce chimes in with some more practical suggestions, not ignoring Henry’s apology but not addressing it yet either.]

If you find anyone lying around in strange and random places, it might be for the best to get them somewhere safe. Either their own bedroom, or we can make use of one of the empty rooms here for everyone. It might be better to have someplace where it’s easier to keep an eye on everyone, especially if it takes any longer than a day or two for this to pass.

In the meantime, I’ll be looking into a way to fix this.
[A way that’s not a kiss, anyway.] Any scientists and magic users are more than welcome. We could use the help, I think.

[ooc: feel free to have people react to either Bruce or Henry on the network post, action tag them in the lab, and of course, use this post as gathering for all your rping needs! The lab portion with Bruce and Henry was not broadcast to the mansion. You're more than welcome to create your own posts. For more info on this plot, including the duration, see this post. blue - henry, green - bruce.]

[Text]

Jul. 21st, 2016 01:45 am
mypartnerintime: (Bizzaro dream)
[personal profile] mypartnerintime
I think we're all in agreement to never talk about that event again. ^_^

Btw has anyone seen Alex? His room's full of stuff but he's been MIA...


[Which, to be fair, is not so unusual. She shoots him a text as well: "Alex if you get this call me. Or text." But as time goes on and she gets no response, she becomes increasingly worried.]
punful: (sansye shrug)
[personal profile] punful
[It's a Sans. He appears to be in his room, and he appears to be literally partially submerged in a small mountain of blue fabric. He also appears to be more tired than normal but, haha, he always looks tired, so maybe you're just imagining things. How can a skeleton look tired, anyway?]

so, uh.

mistakes were made.


[He wiggles a little in a half-hearted attempt to extricate himself from the pile of fabric. Only as he tilts the camera, it becomes apparent what all this madness is. Sans is surrounded by blue hoodies. Probably a hundred or so. Only no two are exactly alike. There are hoodies with fur-lined hoods, hoodies made of denim (joodies??), hoodies made of wool, hoodies made of cotton, hoodies made of cashmere. There are navy blue hoodies and cobalt blue hoodies and sky blue hoodies and a tie-dyed blue hoodie and an electric blue hoodie that hurts just to look at. There are hoodies with polka dots or stripes. There are hoodies with made-up sports teams and made up colleges and made up company logos. There's at least one hoodie with what looks like a knock-off Squirtle on it. There's also a handful of those hoodies they sell to teenage girls that don't ever actually fit and are way too thin and they like, stop at your midriff so that really kind of defeats the purpose and they don't even have REAL POCKETS AND...ahem. Anyway.]

[Basically there's a lot of hoodies.]


i mean, i knew the closets kinda...blue up every now and then, but i figured that was mostly when people were trying to summon baby animals or something.

it just couldn't get it right, basically. my usual hoodie's got--uh--a bunch of holes in it now. figured maybe i could get a new one but...eh. too much effort, i guess. plus, yanno. sentimental value.


[Or something like that. Mostly he's just too lazy to dig through this mess and find a good replacement. Anyway, might as well wear clothes until they literally fall apart, right? Maybe Papyrus will be a good sport and patch all the holes.]

so...anyone want a hoodie? free hoodie with a purchase of a hotdog. or, uh, free hoodie regardless. call it hood-dogs, heh. i figure winter must be coming again eventually, right? i'll be down at my hotdog stand in a bit handing these dumb things out.

[He gives another squirm in the hoodie pile and one end of the pile collapses a little. He ends up with a star-print hoodie draped over his head.]

...actually this is really comfortable.

[He yawns. Someone stop him before he literally takes a nap in the hoodie pile.]
charlastan: Iscariot - Walk the Moon (My brother my brother)
[personal profile] charlastan
WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!

[After some grumbling and fumbling, Stan turns on the video feed. It's very dark wherever he is, and he's only lit by the light of his network device, but he's looking pretty disheveled in his underwear and he's glaring hard into the camera.]

Can't a guy get some shut-eye around here without this stupid mansion pulling some bizarre magical stunt? Is floatin' around in the air what that dumb mouse meant by "tricks"? [He makes a fist and shakes it.] I oughta show that darn rat a trick or two!

[He's fuming, because obviously he was just jostled out of bed in the middle of the night because he was lifted several feet up and fell flat on his face.

Obviously that's what this is about.
]

Stupid damn trick anyway. I could pull off somethin' better than that with my eyes closed!

[Well. He can think of at least one trick he'd pull off better.]
perennialpetals: (Whatchu say punk?)
[personal profile] perennialpetals
[Being here is impossible. Simply being is impossible. The large, alien woman had given up her physical form to allow her son to inherit her gemstone, the source of her very essence and abilities. There's no explanation for her returning to herself, just as there's no explanation for her appearance in his Earthly -yet unearthly- place. The last thing Rose remembers is the birth, followed by simple and otherwise indescribable nothingness. Time passed, but she can only recognize that now that she's herself once more. Yet...the thought of her son weighs heavy on her mind, taking precedence over any concern she should be feeling for herself. Was he born safely? If she's here with her gemstone, was he still born half-Gem? She knows he would have been born regardless, but that doesn't ease her mind entirely. Human infants are so frail...

However, Rose Quartz knows she can't dwell on what-ifs and personal, anxious conjecture. That won't solve anything, but gathering her bearings and facts will. Small communication device in hand, she steps into the foyer of the imposing mansion, all eight feet of her (plus massive hair) making her equally imposing in her own right. She doesn't know who lives here, but if no one responds to her impeding attempt at communication, she can hopefully catch residents coming and going from the building. It's a simplistic strategy, but it's all she has until she knows more.

Without further pause, she places an all-call. Despite the warm, bell-like quality to her voice, there's a distinct unease and uncertainly based below the practiced calmness.]


This is Rose Quartz, calling all who are able.

I'd like to ask about this place, if anyone has a moment. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm... not supposed to be anywhere. So any explanations of what this place is and how it's able to do something so impossible would be greatly appreciated.

I'd also like to ask if anyone has met anyone by the name of Pearl, Amethyst, Garnet, Greg, or... by any possible chance, a boy name Steven from Beach city.

That is all. Thank you.

Rose Quartz out.
beyourrock: (Hopeful.)
[personal profile] beyourrock
[The feed opens up with with an extremely pale young woman. The most prominent feature on her being the large pearl in her forehead. It's not just on her forehead. It's literally in it. Obviously, Pearl is always oblivious to how strange she may look to those unfamiliar to Gems.

She clears her throat, smoothing out her top, to make herself more presentable before she addresses the feed.]


Hello and greetings to... whoever may be receiving this.

[She curls some pink hair from her cheek and steadies her view on the feed.]

My name is Pearl, and I'm in search of my friends. One of them is tall with two gems in her hands, one with purple skin and a gem in her chest, and the last one is a young boy named Steven. He usually wears a red shirt with a bright yellow star on it.

[Her gem glows softly, and images are produced from it. Holograms. Simplified and rigid images, but they gets the message across pretty well.

Her hands fidget as she looks around her new 'room' and the images fizzle out from view, her gemstone dimming. She shifts her weight on the bed, pursing her lips.]


We were on a very important mission, and if they were transported here as well, I'd like to regroup with them and make sure they're alright.

[Pale blue eyes look at the feed worriedly, but she fights to tug out a small smile on her lips.]

Thank you for your time.

[Click.]

Entry #5

Jun. 8th, 2016 04:53 pm
rosswood: (a what a fucke)
[personal profile] rosswood
[Alex doesn't film himself very often. Whenever he does, he gets a spray of static fuzzing over the screen and making things damn difficult to determine. But in this case, that works in his favor. He's far enough away from the camera for it not to make such a huge difference, anyway, the device positioned on the far corner of his desk as he scribbles something down on a sheet of paper, its contents obscured to the viewer.

Those with sharp eyes might spot the corners of several papers tacked to his walls featuring scribbled messages that may seem eerily familiar for anyone who's come into extended contact with Mr. Kralie here, but the content of his message is what's meant to be the vital thing here.

He doesn't look up as he speaks, gaunt and shadowed eyes riveted on whatever it is he's writing.]


So I had a little chat with the Queen. Y'know, the chick that allegedly runs this place, rules the mirrors, yadda yadda yadda.

[Static spritzes momentarily over the feed, multicolored bars bisecting his features before the video jumps back to normal. Alex seems to have anticipated this, and resumes speaking when the digital fit is done.]

I won't bore you with the details. But, uh, she said something pretty interesting.

[He's got footage of the event itself, because why wouldn't someone as rampantly paranoid as he not be filming it, but there's no way to display it without revealing his own offer to the Queen, in which he proposed that he serve as a pair of her eyes on the Real side. As it is, he'll simply have to say it directly and hope people believe him, because it's real freaking shady, what she just implied.]

She said she's got eyes on our side. People watching things out for her. Had some real, or maybe I should say Real, "capable help" at her disposal.

[For the first time, he eyes the camera coldly, suspiciously. As if his paranoia needed to be ratcheted up further.]

Now why would she say a thing like that?
morethanasidekick: (Fae Plague)
[personal profile] morethanasidekick
[As the video starts to play, the person on screen looks like they've come about as close to the brink of death as anyone can manage and still come back from it. Her dark hair is pulled back from her ghostly white face and pale blue eyes that are normally accentuated with black eye makeup, appear to be lined with blood. Her tongue flickers out over dry, cracked lips and the picture is shaky, as if the person holding the camera has unsteady hands.]

Aren't you supposed to take the red pill before you wake up in bizarro land? [The woman trying to inject as much vibrancy as she can manage into her voice, despite the obvious struggle to do so.]

There should at least be food. Like, nachos. Why don't any of my kidnappings ever come with nachos?

[The shake of the camera worsens as she pulls one hand away, trying to rub away the evidence of what had happened before she woke up here.]

As comfortable as this floor is... if somebody could point me in the direction of food? [Aware of how she looks, her hand vaguely gestures to her face.] It's okay. It was just a minor case of Fae plague. A burger or six and I'll be good to go.

⎊ [Video]

May. 1st, 2016 08:07 am
narcissistictendencies: (You're on the list?)
[personal profile] narcissistictendencies
[The feed opens to Tony's form from about the waist up. His sleeves are rolled up and his left arm is covered in burns that look to be about a week old. He's holding a strange device about eight inches long. It's encased entirely in a shell and seems to have a small domed sensor on top.]

I just wanted to say, if you start seeing these around, it's not a tiny alien invasion, they're sensors. I'm setting them around key locations in the hopes of finding a way to predict these event things. In light of the most recent catastrophe, I think it's only a reasonable step towards surviving something like that again. There has to be something preceding these things, right? Like a low-pressure system before a storm. We get a warning, sure. Sometimes, anyway? Maybe, if we can figure out what causes them or where they're coming from, we can delay or stop them?

[It's... all he's got, okay? He hates feeling like he isn't in control and he hates that people die because of it, even more.]

I'm... [He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, the beginnings of a sleepless headache coming on.] officially out of retirement. Hold the "I told you so"s. You know who you are.

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