anon text.

Jul. 20th, 2017 04:26 pm
livemoore: (⚰ 40)
[personal profile] livemoore
[ After being told there are vampires in this place, Liv has to know what people think about a couple of different things without outing herself in the process. ]

If you're something other than human and need to eat, let's call it, 'alternative food,' are you ever worried about someone finding out and freaking in an 'I'll kill you' way?

And for all of the actual humans, are you afraid of the people who aren't human?

Asking for a friend.

Video

Jul. 19th, 2017 09:30 pm
doorkey: ([Raincoat] Contrary)
[personal profile] doorkey
Well, it's official!  [Sighs a small girl dramatically. The view from her camera angles up from where she's flopped on her back in bed, showing the edge of lime green shortalls, a pair of skinned knees, and bare toes painted glossy blue with sparkles, ankles crossed and leaning up against her bedpost.] After days of hunkering down in closets hiding from zombies, and things finally getting back to normal, I've run out of cool stuff to do.

Coraline Jones has got herself a baaaad case of the ol'  humdrum, midsummer blues!

But! There might be hope for me, if some of you can help!  [She wiggles her toes hopefully, spinning the camera around to face her and holding it up overhead, smiling.]

My father always used to tell me that whenever I got bored, I should try and learn something new- teach myself from a book or a magazine, or a television program or something?

But... I think it would be much more fun to have my neighbors teach me... so if you're the expert of something useful, or you know some neat crafts or unusual hobbies, or a not-disgusting recipe (I'm serious about that, folks! Tasty stuff only!), or new game, or a fun making-things project, or... something to send me on a snipe hunt for, puh-leeeease, please please get in touch?

Thanks in advance! 

03 | video

Jul. 18th, 2017 08:44 pm
boilover: (all up in my face)
[personal profile] boilover
Right, here's the thing - I need a nerd. A geek. A smart guy. Or girl, whatever. I ain't overly picky.

[He shrugs his shoulders, casual as anything, taking a long sip of his beer. Sara may have told him this was not the best method to catch himself a genius but given the chance of there being some hanging around this joint, he thinks it's the perfect way. When in doubt, post an ad.]

This guy I know got brainwashed into being the king of dicks and I'm getting kind of sick of his shit so I need someone who'd be able to do some sci-fi sciencey stuff on his head. I have a vague idea how to do it but I just can't remember the details. [He's pretty much forgotten how they originally did it back home but he can unhelpfully offer vague information and a beer while you work. A+ service.]

All the 'smart' ones I know are annoyingly the biggest idiots around, I'm looking for someone less inclined to be stupid as hell. Help me out and maybe I'll help you out. Though my skills are limited to burning and breaking stuff.

[At least he knows his strengths? If you want a bonfire, ka-ching.]

I know a good looking chick if that sweetens the deal. Ain't saying she's gonna touch you but you can admire from afar. Really far. I also know some easy dudes if that's your thing. [Hey, whatever fixes this mess.]
choosetruth: (from bottle alley to the harbor)
[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?
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. 7th, 2017 07:43 pm
projected: (46)
[personal profile] projected
Seems once again I've been dropped off here. I tried to look back using our device to see how far long I was gone - about a month, I think. Interesting really... I was gone for about five months in my perspective. Some of the most eventful of my life.

[Considering he's dead, again, that's saying something.]

A question, for anyone who deigns to answer me: is there something you want badly enough that you would risk everything for it? A common theory about risk taking is that the greater the reward, the greater the risk to achieve it. Usually it's just applied to stocks and bonds, but it's true for all things. Therefore if you choose to risk everything for a single thing... what you want must be worth more than everything you risk.

I know my answer already, and I suppose I wonder if there are people like me. It's trite to think I'm the "only one" but no one ever seems willing to own up to the benefits of ambition. Ambition isn't a bad thing, but being humble seems... pretty pathetic honestly.
deathlessness: (freya025)
[personal profile] deathlessness
[It's only fitting that a year after Freya arrived and the mansion was behest by zombies, there would be an event where ... the mansion is behest by zombies. If anything, it's a way to keep her busy while not talking about what she saw in the various tears, and gives her a problem to solve. It doesn't honestly take her long to make a basic option for making the invisible visible, and when she appears on the network, she is looking tired and possibly covered in glitter but otherwise pleased.]

For those of us who can't see the invisible and don't feel like getting paint everywhere, I've developed a neater solution.

[She holds up a small vial of sparkly solution. Don't judge her for how glittery it is, it's the first thing she thought of.]

This liquid is spelled to cling to anything that doesn't wish to be seen. It will hopefully make our invisible friends a little easier to find, and unlike actual glitter, only sticks to things that are invisible, so minimal mess.

[Because the problem with paintballing invisible zombies is that sometimes you miss and paint gets everywhere.]

If you need them, you can come by room 207 and pick some up, or if you're in trouble, I can astral project to you. Until then, I'm going to work on something a little more ... harmful, but I wanted to at least get a partial solution out there first.

[And with that she will disconnect and go back to working on said harmful option. Feel free to drop on by or to call for help as needed. She will be there.]
uncaging: (☄ 059)
[personal profile] uncaging
[Elizabeth looks rather apprehensive that the tears have suddenly appeared everywhere, but she can't quite mask her excitement at getting to explain to everyone the one area in which she is most certainly an expert - even if the information she has to offer is something most people have probably figured out for themselves by now.]

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

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

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

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

If you have any questions at all, I'm more than happy to answer them.
redroses4sure: (Default)
[personal profile] redroses4sure
[ They mosey along the meadow, the thr-- the 2 playing cards, the 2 of ♠ and the 3 of... and the 3 of ♠. They look 4 something. Or nothing? Or anything! ]

♠ Is something off? Is someone gone?

♠ Gone off? Someone? We'd see if it was, we'd see if they were, wouldn't we? ♠


♠ We'd see! We'd see, and if we don't see, then we really don't want to see, it's good that we can't see what isn't there, that we don't know what hasn't been-- ♠


♠ Correct! Thank you! They can't see us if we can't see them! What we don't know won't hurt us! ♠


♠ Correct! Hooray! ♠


♠ Don't look! Hooray! ♠


♠ Don't stop! Hooray! ♠


♠ Just run! Hooray! ♠


♠ Away! Hooray! ♠


♠ Hooray! ♠


♠ Hooray! ♠
boilover: (what was it I was thinking of?)
[personal profile] boilover
Okay, which of you losers has my rat?

[Mick isn't going to waste time with pleasantries. He's back, he's got new deets on how crappy his life is gonna get and he's about ready to bust some heads together.]

And whichever of you geeks tidied my room, I'm gonna pound you into nothingness once I get my hands on you. I had everything how I liked it and you came along and messed it all up. [It was all perfect. Just. On the floor. In a heap. O r g a n i s e d. Why did people have to meddle while he was gone? He wasn't even gone that long. Like a week, tops.] You put all my junk in drawers, my towel ain't on the floor and now the whole place smells like chick stuff. Candles and flowers and--

Whatever. [He doesn't want to get into this, he wants to move on to the things he wanted to ask. He leans back a little against the wall he's against and sips his beer, contemplating his next words for a moment because he doesn't want to come across as cracked or nothing but he's got a few things on his mind.]

This whole back and forth to Wonderland bullshit, it's kind of weird. If you're going, you should stay gone. Doesn't make much sense to come back. [He grunts and pulls a face, clearly not impressed.] Anyone ever go kinda ... screwy from it? Like it starts messing with you or something? [He taps his head a few times to illustrate.] In here, I mean.

When you go back to where you're supposed to go, does wonderland keep messing around with you or what?
shrinkage: 040 my name is onika (excite;happy;cheeky)
[personal profile] shrinkage
Raise your hand if you think it's unfair for Wonderland to yank you back in mid-event.

[ the video is framed far enough away that you can actually see ray raise his hand to his own question. vigorously. think back to that kid in your class who had to hold up their raised hand with their other arm. were you that kid? yeah, bet you were.

ray grins and shrugs.
]

I guess Wonderland doesn't really do fair, huh? Either way, I'm back! What'd I miss?
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.
dreamsoftreacle: (In your face)
[personal profile] dreamsoftreacle
[For a rare moment, the Dormouse is actually...awake! He twitches his nose a little too close to the camera, lets out the tiniest sneeze, and backs up a bit.]

Hm...being awake is-- [He yawns.] Overrated. And so many of you were so awake during the holidays. Don't you get tired of it? You waste two-thirds of your life being awake, you know!

[Even this broadcast is too tiring for him. He stumbles over to the teacup, but doesn't quite make it there. Instead, he decides a bread plate is close enough and curls up in a circle in the center of it.]

I'd...highly recommend a nap. Or two. Or twelve. You might...[He yawns one more time and shuts his eyes, snuggling tighter to make himself comfortable] ...learn something in there...

video;

Feb. 11th, 2017 12:35 pm
breacher: (if you had to shit where would you go?)
[personal profile] breacher
[ In hindsight, he shouldn't be too surprised. He'd heard about it happening to a number of people before in the mansion — where they're gone for, say, a solid week or so. Where they're home. Until they're not again, anyway. If that was what had happened here, well. He wasn't quite ready to come to that conclusion just yet.

But it was very, very clear that something had gone on in Wonderland in his absence, at least.

When the feed starts, he's crossing his arms, examining the room around him before holding up a book by the corner of the cover. The pages are wrinkled and yellowed, showing signs of having been wet, waterlogged. Harrison hardly seems amused.
]

Alright. Who wants to explain this? Because apparently, I seem to have missed something.

[ if that's also his way of announcing his presence to certain others in the mansion then, you know. these things happen, too. ]
quickgenius: (stubborn)
[personal profile] quickgenius
[FORWARD-DATED TO AFTER THE WATERS HAVE RECEDED AND THE DEAD ARE NO LONGER DEAD. Or undead as the case may be.

Waking up, soaking wet and crumpled in the hallway where she’d drowned, the memory of water filling her lungs, panic and fear making it all worse, sharp and jagged in her head, Jesse had gone back to her room, gone somewhere safe and hers, only to find that it was too quiet and slipped into her lab instead. But when she’d gone to write something down, to start work on another project... it had been nonsensical, a mishmash of words with no rhyme or reason. And her stomach had twisted with worry. Which hasn’t gone away.

Because she can’t talk. Can’t write. It’s all fine in her head, but the moment she tries to communicate, to SAY something, or write something, it goes all sideways. If she can manage words at all.

And it’s gotten worse, because something is going on. The flooding is gone but time is repeating. Still repeating, although she’d been more focused on trying to survive during the flooding to pay it much mind, then. Little hops backward in time, reliving the past couple of hours.

When the video feed comes on, she’s in her lab, hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing an oversized S.T.A.R Labs sweatshirt. Behind her is a clearboard covered in nonsensical writing that WAS her attempt to try and figure out what was happening scientifically. Something’s wrong. We’re repeating time.]


Sarcastic warning. Water re-referencing thermometer.

[Damn it. She huffs a frustrated breath. Brow furrowed as she focuses, trying her best to get what she’s thinking, what she WANTS to say, to be the actual words she’s saying.]

The cl-clock isn’t always right.

[Closer, but still not what she’s actually trying to SAY. Frustrated and angry at herself, she spins and sends some of the contents of one of the tables in her lab flying. Papers. Pens. Tools. A few odds and ends. A very familiar sight to a few people in Wonderland, but usually it’s a different Wells doing it.]
morethan084: (thoughtful)
[personal profile] morethan084
[It's been a day and to say Daisy is stretched thin is an understatement. Still, she's doing her best to hold it together. Especially for Fitz and Simmons' sake considering this hit close to home for them. Fitz more so than anyone. Finding refuge in another room together, Daisy moved to take a seat on the ground. If Fitz and Simmons wanted the bed, it was there.

Taking out her network device, Daisy set it to broadcast out to anyone with theirs on.]


How's everyone holding up? Anyone missing?

[She didn't want to leave Fitz and Simmons alone, but if anyone needed help finding someone she couldn't just sit there.]

[OOC: Totally okay with this turning into action if anyone is up for that.]
prettyntoxic: (You can bump into me anytime Cisco)
[personal profile] prettyntoxic
[She's been in Wonderland a few hours now and already met up with Mick and Lenny, so the panic is out of her system. Not that she'd admit there was any panic to begin with. She'd been fairly threatening to hide it.

But now, she was lying on her back on a bed with a smirk on her face. Her curls were splayed about her head, holding the camera up so the video shot down at her.]


So, this is Wonderland? I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around the magic, but I'm sure that's common for the new kid on the block, right? I'm Lisa Snart, [Why yes, she did just wink at the camera when she said her name] and I'm looking for suggestions on what to do first. It's a bit cold for the beach, but that's definitely high on my priority list. Are there any clubs around here? I feel like dancing.



[OOC: Warning: Some threads reference abuse.]
catchacold: :( (bruised - pathetic)
[personal profile] catchacold
[The feed comes to life and Leonard's sitting in his room, mostly illuminated by candle-light, which does soften the still visible bruises (as a result of this) on his face a little. He's playing with a lighter in one hand, turning it, palming it and flipping it open and shut, but never actually lighting it.

Mostly he looks at the camera, both eye by now able to open fully again.]


Time doesn't really seem to do much in the way of passing here, but things happen anyway. So, guess this is still a worthwhile question.

You got any resolutions?

[Which of course also begs the question whether he has any himself. He looks as if he wants to keep talking at first, but his mouth stays shut and he looks off past the camera, the flame of a candle reflected in his eyes. Finally he cuts off the video.]


[ooc: This post can be used as a jump-off for New Years and other talk among other people too, so feel free to threadjack! ALL THE THREADJACKING, always encouraged.]
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?
demonstrate: (wonder.)
[personal profile] demonstrate
summary: iris west returns to wonderland. )

[ iris west is a reporter back in her home world, and it's a shame she has not taken advantage of the network as much as she should. tends to happen when you lose yourself digging up info within the network. ten years worth of it. her notes went missing the day she did, so she'll have to start from the ground up.

let us tell you, it won't be easy. but it's also not impossible.

to iris west, impossible is nothing.

once she is more or less settled in and let those closest to her know she has returned, she reaches out to the network.
]

I've got a few questions for you, Wonderland.

Specifically, I have questions for those of you who've been sent home and were brought back. Note: I won't turn down information even if this technically doesn't apply to you. I'll take everything you've got.

1. Were you able to remember anything about Wonderland while you were home?
2. How long were you gone Wonderland-wise, and were all your Wonderland memories intact when you returned?
therapize: (i am really tired)
[personal profile] therapize
[The past weeks and months have been nothing but complicated for Cami, to say the least. She's found out a terrible truth in her future back home, and given her conversation with Freya upon the woman's return, it's safe to say there are probably a few more unwanted discoveries lurking out there, in the darkness. She's slept and she's dreamed, and maybe that's a terrible promise to come too. But right now, as the hours stretch on during the night of December 24th, Cami isn't looking to lose herself in the mire of all things that aren't fair, aren't simple, aren't right with the world.

She wants something better. Something simpler.

So she commandeers an empty room on one of the mansion's higher floors, just for the night. The decorations are sparse: some padded benches if people want to sit and think, all facing the front where there stands a table covered with rows and rows of red candles. A few are burning, most aren't. There's enough light to see in the room itself, but not so much that it overwhelms the glow of each individual flame.

When the feed starts, she's not facing the camera; instead, Cami stands in front of that table--in front of three candles, unlit in the center.]


"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

It's a Bible verse written on the grave of someone very important to me back home. I was raised Catholic, although--[she laughs]--I'm pretty terrible at it. But I've always believed in light, and hope. In the goodness that can overcome.

Whatever's going on in our dreams is taking it's toll, and I doubt many people really feel like celebrating. But today and tomorrow do mean something, for a lot of people. For my family and I...

[Midnight mass. Listening to Kieran lead his congregation to celebrate a miracle. Voices singing in joy. The beauty of the service, and the candles glistening in the dark. Cami takes a moment to regain her thoughts, giving the phone a quick glance before continuing on.]

I've set up this room in case anyone wants a place to reflect tonight. It's on the ninth floor, room four. This isn't a religious service or anything like that. Just...somewhere where there can be peace.

[And tonight, she needs that, because the reality is? Cami's set up this place for herself. She swallows just to keep her expression calm, then reaches towards a jar at the end of the table with long, thin wooden matches inside. She picks one to light with the fire of a candle already burning before turning back to those three candles in the center. She touches the match to each one, sparking a flame before moving on to the next. Three candles, three lives.

Three deaths.

She doesn't say their names. She simply blows out the match when the task is done before turning off the video. She'll spend most of her night in that room, sitting on one of the benches regardless of whether anyone joins her, watching the lights, and listening to the silence.]
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.]
boilover: (oh yeah fire)
[personal profile] boilover
I'm getting real tired of getting dumped in strange places against my will. I don't like it.

[There's a low, dangerous growl of disapproval and the expression on Mick's face is not a pretty one. It's somewhat reminiscent of an angry bull. This was the second time in God knows how many days that Mick Rory has found himself stranded somewhere new and different, unsure what the hell is happening. It's not a good feeling. It didn't inspire much good will.

Though this is a definite improvement over the last place. For one, there's food. For another, he gets a free smart phone to yell at people over and voice his anger. Not bad. Though he did kind of think they went a little overboard with the white. What was with all the decorations anyway? This better not be like some low rent Christmas Town cause honestly, that sounded a lot like hell.]


You got five minutes to convince me not to torch this place to the ground cause I ain't in the mood to play nice right now. Somebody start talking. [The words come out as an angry snarl, teeth barred. He's not a happy bunny.]

voice

Dec. 12th, 2016 06:18 pm
projected: (pitiful...)
[personal profile] projected
[When the feed clicks on, there is only a faint static sound with what sounds like the microphone being covered a couple times. From the turn of the sound, one can surmise the device is being moved in the hand of the person who turned on the feed.]

This crude device is quite deceptive. At first it looked like an antiquated smart phone of sort, but inspection shows a different story. I'm a bit more impressed to learn it connects to a network that everyone is on. A means of communication is interesting... I'm curious as to why it even exists actually. Maybe that question is intentionally open-ended?

[He huffs a quiet breath of laughter out, the number of possible answers already sprouting to mind.]

If I'm being honest, I never really liked Alice in Wonderland. I can acknowledge it's historical value, and it's why I read it, but Alice herself was... fake. Designed as the perfect image of childhood innocence. She went around this new world so new to her without fear, wondered by all around her. Any flaw with her was never designed, but created by those who read the story. The world, much like this one, was of far more interest.

...What do you think of Alice though? Was she foolish for being too trusting of Wonderland, or can she be absolved for her curious nature? I think the answer you would pick, even if you don't say it aloud, reveals what kind of person you are.

If you don't want to share your answer that's fine. However I am curious about what kind of people are here. A melting pot of universes isn't exactly commonplace. I do hope this place won't be as tedious as reading Alice's adventures.

VIDEO-OTA

Dec. 6th, 2016 01:50 pm
morethan084: (text)
[personal profile] morethan084
[Daisy played with the settings on the communication device she had found until she got one meant for streaming a video. Putting the device at arms length, Daisy tapped ‘video’ and it began to record her live.]

Right, so. This is a lot to take in, apparently this happens a lot around here? People getting sucked into Wonderland? Is it seriously called that? I haven’t seen Alice or the Mad Hatter around here, so I’m having a hard time believing in…

[She’s sure that someone is watching her right now and making a face.]

Okay, that was a lame joke. But this is just some weird, fucked up dream. Right?

[Daisy knows she rambles, she’s good at it. Especially when she’s overwhelmed.]

I’m still waiting to wake up from this, but, for the hell of it…

I’m Sarah.

[What? She doesn't know that here she isn't a wanted woman.]

If anyone is listening to this, I’d really appreciate knowing what the hell just happened to me. I was walking out of a room and the next thing I know I’m falling into a fountain.
deathlessness: (across the western sky)
[personal profile] deathlessness
[The ambient sounds of Lux Deux is prominent in the background as the feed starts up again, and for a long time it is the only sound aside from the clink of the glass being moved against the bar while Freya tries to get her words in order. She’s ascertained from her siblings at this point that she’s been gone far longer than would be considered “normal” for Wonderland – if there ever was such a thing.

She could simply announce that she’s returned and leave it at that, let those who wish to seek her out come find her, but that has never been her way, and while she doesn’t wish to talk about herself, she’s curious about something else.]


A question for you, Wonderland, though it is a rather specific one.

[Her words are slow and deliberate, likely indicating the amount she’s had to drink at this point – enough to dull the events of the last few months spent home, but not enough to make her sloppy – and the sound of her placing the glass back down on the bar can be heard before she continues.]

At this point, I’m sure we’re all aware of the … complications, involving those of us arriving from different points in the same timeline. For those of us who have come here and then learned of our future before actually going home to live through it, what do you think was worse? The speculation of what was to come, or the events themselves?

[There’s a small scrape as the glass is lifted again.]

Would you prefer to have remained ignorant, or do you feel at peace having lived the truth for yourself?

[And she’ll have the device with her to answer replies, though if you would prefer to visit her in person, she would not say no to company either. She’s probably going to be at the bar for a while.]
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?
therapize: maxicons @ insanejournal (251)
[personal profile] therapize
[There were days when Cami had been younger, more naive, that she might have liked to take a trip to Hogwarts. Of course, those days had been before vampires and witches and werewolves, much less Wonderland and all that world entails--and in its own way, that's fitting. During the event, she'd been a teenager again, one who'd seen her share of troubles but who also lived in an idealistic, carefree way, where her largest concerns revolved around her friends and her romance with a bad boy wizard who secretly had a heart of gold.

And then she wakes up.

It's hardly the first time she's gone through that morning after, when old memories reclaimed the place briefly stolen by fiction. As she opens her eyes and realizes she's alone, however, Cami sucks in a sharp gasp. That event, with all its innocence, has shown her something she knows she can never truly have. She's learned the truth about so many things, after all, since she'd first sat down to read the story of a boy wizard's magical journey. Vampires and werewolves and witches--and hybrids--are far more complicated than the world found within those pages.

She takes her time those first few days after the mansion restores itself. Cami gathers her composure and whispers into the silence of her room that it hadn't been his fault, because even when there are walls separating them she knows Klaus is listening. She reestablishes her routine because Cami has learned by now just how important that is for her when it comes to orienting herself after one of the more involved memory-altering events.

There is one part of her day missing, however. Even before Hogwarts, Cami has sent out a message to her regular patients that she's taking a vacation of sorts. She needs time for herself because more and more she's noticing the advice she gives, the effort she takes aren't having their intended effect. Something has shifted, because of the arrival of the Mikaelsons or simply due to her own tenure in Wonderland, or some combination of the two. Now, she sits in her office, tapping the table next to her phone, but doesn't turn the video on as she might on other occasions.

This isn't a broadcast she wants to make using her own face, or voice, or name.

Of course, at least one of those concerned would recognize her identity, despite the steps Cami takes to make it anonymous. She almost locks the post away from him, then opts not to, then changes her mind yet again. In some ways she knows it isn't fair to ask about this but not go to Klaus directly--yet that's exactly what makes her uncertain. Cami isn't blind, after all, nor unaware of the world she lives in back home. She might even be able to put some of the pieces herself together if she wanted to.

She doesn't want to.

In the end, she doesn't hide the text from anyone, although she doesn't claim it as her own either. She's not ready for that on such a public scale, even if she needs to ask the question. For all that she tries to do, Cami's never really been the first one to ask for help herself--not when it comes to her own problems.]



[[Anonymous Text Post]]

Do you ever think about the life you haven't lived yet?

One of the things about being in Wonderland is that your "time" doesn't continue while you're here. I think most of us know it and generally accept it. But other people from your same world can be pulled in, and for them, you've kept living. Your life has gone on, in ways you haven't experienced yet. They know your joys, your sorrows, your heartaches.

Meanwhile, for you, all those things are just part of the great "to be." Instead, you've been living here, in a world forgotten by everyone except those people within it. You might have made friends, maybe enemies. Maybe lovers. There's a chance you've found a job somewhere, or even started a service of your own, or picked up a dozen new hobbies. But however you fill it, the minutes and the hours and the days go by--and then it's months. Years. You have a life here. You're a different person.

And then someone shows up. Someone you're close to, that you care about. They're here, and you're so happy, that at first, you don't really see it. Or maybe you do, and you just pretend. But it's there, every time they look at you. Something strange in their eyes that you can't define. That you don't want to. Something that's part of that future you haven't lived through yet, that you haven't wanted to know because knowing means you carry the weight of it. Everything you learn here, you're burdened by, because you can't change it once we leave. Good, bad, whatever. It will be, and knowing about it, dissecting it, taking apart all the choices and the causes that made it happen?

Won't change a damn thing.

So what do you do? Because this person is here, and you want them to be. You want them to be in your life, but at the same time? If they look at you that way, even once more, you think it might really drive you mad. You want to fix it, whatever it is, but you can't. You want to know, but you don't. You suspect, but asking for the truth just makes it real.

Is it fair? To them, to you. Can any approach to this be considered "right?"

And what does it change about who you are now, in this place?


[[End of Anonymous Text Post.]]


[Once it's done, Cami sits back in her chair, surveying the empty office. It isn't just the future she's concerned about, but identity itself. She would have been, even if Hogwarts hadn't brought the question into sharp relief, but it has--it's shown her just who she might be, what she might enjoy had she come from a different world. If Klaus had as well.

She knows she needs to decide just what to do about that complicated mess, but there's more to her life than just her relationships from home. For the better part of a year, she'd lived on her own in Wonderland, the sole representative of her version of New Orleans, or even that particular earth. She's not the same Camille O'Connell who arrived in the tunnels almost two years before (three counting the one she'd gone back home) because she's not untouchable. She's been so focused on trying to "help," other people, and now Cami thinks she understands why.

Because when Hogwarts first faded, her instinct had been to get on the network, and reopen her office with some speech about altered identity--because then she wouldn't have to think so hard about her own.

A few hours go by between her first transmission and the next. This time, however, she's on the video, a small smile on her lips that speaks more of apology than confidence.]



[[Video Post]]

Hi, all. My name is Cami O'Connell, for those of you that don't know me, and I run the therapist office on the sixth floor.

[Now the hard part. She takes in a breath, and lets it out.]

I've been thinking a lot about how I've been living in Wonderland lately. I've wanted to believe I've held myself together with dignity most times--but that isn't true. I'm more than just my self-appointed purpose, and I think somewhere along the way, I forgot that. I wanted to be my profession so much, I pushed aside the rest of it. It's been a great way not to deal, but this is Wonderland, and I'm human. There's only so many times I can be hit before the cracks begin to show.

I've...died here. [She drops her gaze momentarily, although the pain of that has largely faded in the time since. She's never admitted it this way, this publicly.] I've seen people I care for die. I've seen others broken. I've felt the helplessness of realizing my mind has been toyed with. My relationships, my memories, my life--everything I am. And I guess through all of that, I thought if I could hold on to one thing, make that consistent, I could rise above it all. But when that becomes a singular goal, it's easy to forget the real reasons why I chose to be what I am--and why I was good at it.

[Why she can still be, if Cami gets her priorities straight. She huffs out a small laugh, her voice softening for a moment.]

Wow. It almost feels like I'm at confession.

Anyway. For those of you who've seen the less dignified version of me, I'm sorry. For those of you who have trusted me, thank you. And for those of you willing to accept a flawed, ordinary human as a therapist, I'm going to start keeping office hours again, starting now. Feel free to knock, or leave a message, and we can set up an appointment. Sixth floor, room twenty. I'm here to listen if people want someone to talk to.

That's all.

[[End of Video Post]]




[[ooc: So there are two broadcasts! The first one is an anon text post and the second is a video post. Feel free to respond to either; just let me know which! Cami's replies to the first will be all text, all anon unless otherwise noted.]]

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