entranceway | ( one; voice )

[Emma has read what information has been made available, she’s walked the grounds and the corridors of some of the mansion’s ground floor, and she’s combed through what public postings she could find to look through on the device she’d found in the pocket opposite of where she kept her own phone. She’s been digging for evidence since she got here, but what she’s found?

She’s not buying it. The message that comes through is voice only, not wanting to reveal her face or her exact location right away-- though she’s pretty damn sure that whoever’s responsible for this is watching her and has a good idea of where she is, if not who.]

Look. I know someone is out there listening.

[She doesn’t know exactly who, but someone.]

This game of yours? I’m not interested. I don’t know how you got me here, or how you set all this up. Maybe it’s some messed-up alternate reality game, but I didn’t opt in for any of this. I don’t care how elaborate it is, or how much work went into it-- my kid is at home waiting for me, and I am not screwing around.

[Her tone is hard, angry rather than anxious, determination winning out over uncertainty.]

‘Wonderland.’ Cute, but I’m not impressed. All I want is for you to point me towards the exit. You can do me a solid and we can do this the easy way-- or we can do it the hard way. Trust me, whatever weird stuff you might be into, I can promise you won’t be happy if we go that route.

[She stays on the line, just to wait for any kind of possible response-- but she doesn’t really know what to expect. This entire thing has her out of her depth, even if she’s not willing to admit it.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, there is an empty stool next to me. You are welcome any time.

[Freya is not anticipating anything making sense anytime soon.]

Not so much light reading, more like who works there. Evelyn's been here longer than anyone I've ever heard of.

Any concerns you have depend on understanding your current situation. So humor me.

[Mabel just

stares]

A... furniture designer?

Our collective deaths, by the looks of things lately. Or general suffering.

Our memories is also a popular theory.

Edited 2017-12-19 21:46 (UTC)

Has everyone here bought into this thing?

[Her tone of voice makes it pretty clear that she thinks this is flat-out crazy.]

I think I'll hold off on any tours, thanks.

[Her voice is terse; she's riled, and understandably so. Nobody handles a missing child well.]

If you see him, I'd appreciate a heads up. Twelve, almost thirteen, brown hair, about five feet tall.

Like that's any weirder than 'pirate.'

[It's a perfectly normal profession.]

This place has veteran victims?

[Alright, that gives her pause.]

... Emma Swan.

[She tenses.]

My son doesn't have an army of parents. It's just the two of us.

[It's always been that way.]

Remember? From when?

[If her son had been to a place like this before, wouldn't she know? It wasn't the sort of thing a parent could just overlook-- but what little he does give her is almost enough to make her hope.]

Look, unless you can tell me where my son is, I'm not interested in talking.

[Sorry, George. Not a good day to ask Emma Swan to humor you, unfortunately.]

The first one goes along with my "over-funded murder house" theory, but memories? How is that even possible?

[You can't just take someone's memories ~~lol~~.]

You've never heard of a video game?

[As though the clothing weren't enough to tip her off to the fact that something isn't quite right-- but then again, why would she even begin to think of something like time being flexible if she's shutting down every other theory she's heard about this place?

She exhales, grimacing.]

Burned at the stake... people still do that? [What part of New York has she been hanging around?] I'm glad you came out of it in one piece.

Save it for me.

[She'll take that offer, but:]

I can't stop moving until I know for sure that my son is safe. After that, a strong drink will definitely be welcome.

See, I do the same thing in my line of work, I just don't give 'em the option. Seems like a much more efficient use of everyone's time if I just assume they want the hard way and go from there.

Okay. If I see him, I'll tell you. Wonderland is only so big.

[Not sure if that was reassuring him, but if he were here, then it wouldn't take long to find him.]

[Oh she has.

Briefly, Regina wonders if this is how Hook felt when he retrieved her from New York. Granted, she's not trying to kiss Emma into remembering so that definitely helps, but it's still frustrating.]

That part I haven't quite figured out. Given our current situation, you have no reason to believe that I anything I could tell you, I learned from you and I'm not simply some... stalker.

[She stalked your mom, okay. Not you.]

Yeah, the book and this place may share some traits, but they're pretty off base. Although I do remember a movie with a Jabberwocky that scared the living shit out of me as a kid.

[ That's so annoying, she would imagine, to have people telling you they know you. ]

There should be more tact about that. I mean, I've heard of it happening? It's more of the same unexplainable 'this place is magic' explanation, though. Welcome to the bullshit, Emma.

[ Sarah smirks because that's honestly what this place is full of but there's nothing any of them can do about it. ]

Nope. There's no rhyme or reason I've found. All ages, all backgrounds, all levels of magic or not. Some not human, others from past centuries from what I would know. Just whoever suits them, I guess.

[Which is not comforting. Not in the least.]

If he's here, then the device should work, but if he's been here and gone, others might know him. My brother was here when I got here, but disappeared one night.

She teleported you.

[She's going to have to take that with about three hundred grains of salt, thanks, but at least she's listening to him.]

However she made that work, it's not real. It can't be-- but it sure as hell does move her up the list of suspects.

[She was already pretty high up, as is.]

She reached out to me, too. She knew my name, said she was from my future.

[This face, right now.]

[She grimaces. 'Someone he trusted'-- was that even possible in a situation like this? They've all been kidnapped, elaborate as it is. How can any of them know who to trust?

She's never been great with offer her trust in the first place, to be perfectly honest.]

Forgive me if I don't take your word for it. I appreciate the attempt to help and all, but that's just not how I operate.

I'm a bailbondsperson. Have to cover my ass and say I tried the easy way first to prevent lawsuits.

[Look, it's a tricky line of business, but most of what she does is legal, at least.]

Whoever dragged me here involved my kid, though-- their chance for lenience is gonna be pretty damn slim.

Appreciated. Another pair of eyes can't hurt.

[Whether or not she can trust that pair of eyes remains to be seen, but beggars can't be choosers.]

You don't sound all that surprised by any of this. Have you been stuck here awhile?

[~~The two of them should definitely compare notes, given the chance.~~]

If it makes you feel any better, it's not like you're special. I don't believe anything most people tell me.

[Her trust issues are still present and out in full force.]

Also, that definitely sounds like something a stalker would say.

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