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Back in the summer of last year I made inquiries about the experiences of Wonderland residents who hail from time periods before a more "modern" era, in the hopes of creating a guide that might best facilitate the transition for them to contemporary advances. The project fell through for a number of reasons not long after-

[Primarily because she left, died, and came back, which tends to put a bit of a damper on personal research, but that is not known by the general public.]

-but I am happy to have produced a pamphlet that I hope the rest of you might circulate with the...ah, existing one [that nondescript abomination] should you meet someone unfamiliar with the communications devices, or the appliances in the kitchen.

Please feel free to refer anyone with questions about bookkeeping and records to me, I've recently reorganised our archives in the west wing of the library.

[With that, Evelyn cuts the feed.

The project came as a distraction more than anything, something that had been pushed to the backburner in her grief, practically forgotten while she dragged herself through the days following her death in August. Being someone with an immense proclivity to work that others might find tedious or mind-numbing she weighed the options before her following the morning six days ago when she had woken up to find her bed empty again, the only belongings left behind a linen shirt and a cup of cold Turkish coffee on the counter.

It almost came as no surprise as she had sluggishly poured the beverage out in the sink, rinsing the porcelain. Why should it, anymore?

Later in the day Evelyn can be found in the unlikeliest of places: Wonderland's fifth floor bar, drowning dismay with whisky and rye.]

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[huge nerds get shit done, okay]

...no, [she says with a firmness that suggests no wiggle-room for misinterpretation.] The library is the library, regardless of postulations on its potential future use. You might actually establish a wrestling room in an empty chamber, however?

[It's...enormous bird!

Evelyn agrees with the point that Nageki is making - it would behoove everyone to know where to go for medical assistance.]

Has the clinic finally gotten a defined room? It's moved about a bit over the last two years, I wasn't aware it was stationary now.

We're not entirely certain that they are human,

[Evelyn points out, not unkindly. There hasn't been much research on the chemical composition of Mirrors, nor have there been medical inspections. It may be something she asks Victor about, since he is most knowledgeable on the subject.]

But she does make them, yes. And she can unmake them.

Well...

[Evelyn isn't one to humble-brag, but-

Yes. Who are we kidding. She absolutely is.]

...as much as there is to know, I should think. I've spent a great deal of my time collecting data and compiling a set of records about this place, from comprehensive lists of past events and their inspirations and influences to a fluctuating census.

[Evelyn suddenly finds it very difficult to contain a laugh.]

You didn't! The microwave caught fire, did it?

[Evelyn smiles tiredly at him, sensing his anxiety and reaching over to absentmindedly pat the back of his hand.]

You should be fine, Chuck. The both of you have been in residence for some time, the likelihood is exceptionally slim.

[Past experience tells her that they're safe. He's safe.]

And I'm just exceptionally unlucky.

[Ferelden is not a place that Evelyn knows well - or at all, for that matter - and serves to solidify the distinct gap in her research. She did meet someone who fit a similar bill of attire, however, perhaps it might behoove her to inquire about Anders' world.

Evelyn laughs lightly, a little softened by the civility.]

Evelyn O'Connell. I'm from England, but it would appear our places of origin exist in two different universes.

[How out of touch has she been, exactly? So out of touch that she's effectively sequestered herself in the library and paid very little attention to external stimuli - Evelyn's never had a habit of frequently checking the network.]

Fair enough.

[Some of them have to, if they've been in Wonderland as long as she has. Only a handful of them stretch past four years. Evelyn, who is suddenly feeling very tired at the thought that she's been so detached and distant, rests her chin in her hand.]

Have you anyone from your world here?

If there's anything I can help with, let me know. I know I don't exactly have the right perspective for it, but if there's any modern stuff that pops up that you need help with, I'll do what I can. After five years, I feel like Wonderland might be out of that kind of surprise, but you never know.

[Then again, if anything from well after 2009 appears, Jo has the potential to be lost, too, although she's always been a quick study.]

( look Evie when you have been trapped in a world you don't wanna be in for three hundred years, four doesn't do much for you. he's not that disturbed, though some might have been. )

more than some I've heard of, then.
you say you lose memories the longer you stay? how do you know what you've lost?

[ He needs so much more booze for this it isn't even funny. He pours himself another two fingers and drains it, shivering as the burn hits and his head pleasantly swims. Another two, to sip on slowly while the rest settles in his belly. ]

Mm. Know a bit about bein' unlucky.

wow. that seems like an awful lot of work. that takes commitment.

[Man that's also incredibly useful. Sans had no idea that anyone here was keeping records and compiling data.]

do you let people look at your work? i might be interested in reading some of it.

[ John's less concerned about her ability to handle the alcohol — Evelyn's one of the toughest people he knows. It's so much more useful in gauging other things that he might otherwise have to ask about.

He watches her glass, eyes unfocused as he processed her words, all edges blurring. A week. Seven days of personal torture. No wonder she needs something to numb the pain. ]

The time he was here... It was good?

[ He doesn't mean perfect, but he does mean good. Better than without. ]

Oh, that again. [Alistair waves it off likes he's so over the whole 'other worlds/universes/whatever' thing. It's so last age and definitely not one of those things he just tries not to think about.] Of course they are. I could have told you that.

[Somehow.]

It's nice to meet you, Lady O'Connell. [And now he's just going overboard to prove he can be polite. But who can fault him, talking to a beautiful woman who knows the mysteries of the magic mansion and its dangerous kitchen?]

_{[Victor hums a note, not looking particularly bothered that Evelyn may have failed to spread her knowledge across the multiverse. Reaching everyone across Wonderland is an ambitious goal as it is.]}

There's only so much you can do to anticipate every possibility--your reference sheet can't be everything to everyone. Best to stick to the simple and work outward from there. Occam's razor.

_{[He assumes why she needs busywork has something to do with work and home life.]}

Why the distraction? I thought it's been rather quiet the last two weeks.

Eh, maybe. If I feel like it. [She mostly just wanted to repurpose the library to spite whoever uses it. Because that's the kind of person she is. ...Not that she actually thought Evelyn would say yes to begin with.]

Anyway, it's cool you're helping people out. I can get how some people might need help with technology 'n stuff. Fridges, like, blew my mind when they came out. Heh, I have like, at least three iceboxes in my room still... [Her grin drops suddenly.] I mean, my old room. The one I had before... here.

[I mean, she could add some iceboxes to her current room. Really liven the place up.]

I've seen it on the first floor a few times. Though I don't go to the other floors unless the library moves. [Which is to say, he doesn't see the clinic often enough to know whether it moves or not. He hadn't considered that possibility before.]

[He knows the feeling she seems to be conveying, and he feels guilty for having intruded on it--and then, the instinctive desire to help cheer her up, but that's tempered by his stunted social skills.]

... I... definitely understand. I didn't mean to intrude, I just...

[...]

If you'd like to talk about anything, I'd be happy to listen. There's a lot on my mind too.

[Consider her equal parts glad and upset that he recalls that talk so vividly. Sometimes Evelyn would like to forget.]

I don't remember it being very friendly to children, ergo- [Vague hand gesture.] ...have you seen your brother, since he got back?

[Evelyn is assuming as much, though she isn't sure how well they've gotten on or if anything of note has happened.]

That's...a fair assessment.

[Beyond that sort of discourse being outside her general purview for research, Evelyn isn't certain how well it would translate. It's better to keep notes on the potential reasons for this place's existence and let other peruse it at their leisure, if they so desire.]

And as much as I would like for this place to be explained, I don't think that we're ever going to see a believably valid argument.

I'll, erm...I'll let you know.

[With this particular project now out of the way, intent on starting something else with which she can occupy her time and concentration, Evelyn wavers for a long moment before asking:]

This...is a bit of a non-sequitur, but would you mind if we talked in person? Unrelated to pamphlets and microwaves.

[Evelyn follows suit, finishing her current glass and filling another - not out of any need to keep pace with him, as his liver is probably much more well-developed, but because the conversation has lost its benevolent edge. She takes a shaky breath and exhales slowly.]

You mean besides the dying bit?

[She asks, not unkindly, and sympathises. Not everyone gets to watch their loved one's face contort in agony and helplessness as you bleed out in their arms.]

Yep, my mostly-useless grandson.

It did. [Peter doesn't mind laughter. It is part of why he told the story so she wouldn't feel so bad] They had to call the firemen and everything. It mostly just smoked up our kitchen.

I wasn't allowed unsupervised there... for some time after that.

"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment."

[Try as Evelyn might to confine herself to the present in such a way that would make Marcus Aurelius proud, in such a way that would keep her from anguish, mind-over-matter is not a habit she has successfully adopted in its entirety. Distraction works as long as distraction is committed, and when it is done...

Evelyn looks down into her drink.]

I always loved the pragmatism of that sentiment, but in practise it is considerably more difficult.

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