entranceway | video; open to all

[Damon is not happy, and definitely not drunk enough for this. At first, he assumed he'd been hallucinating, on some trip after drinking bad blood. However, he has been roaming Wonderland for hours on this bright and early morning, while everyone else was likely asleep. He’s poked his head in where it doesn’t belong, waiting for the hallucination to fade. Spoilers: it doesn’t. He finally studies the communication device, accepting that this is either one very long dream or he’s actually here. Somehow. He’s on the main floor, pressed up against the marble pillar, staring up at the ceiling. It takes minimal effort to skim through previous entries before he switches to video.]

Question #1, for the masses: How drunk do you have to be for this place to start making sense? Because I’m starting to think this poor, lonely bottle's not gonna cut it. [Damon looks to the bottle in his hand with a little sigh, tapping his fingers on its surface.] Looks like we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

[He takes a long drink, swallows, and sends the camera a slow but absolutely charming smirk:]

Question #2: what’s the one thing you wish someone had told you on your first day in the merry old Land of Wonder, but failed to?

[Damon points a finger at the camera with the hand that's still partly wound around the bottle] And go. Best answers get a pony.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

1. What a cheery anniversary to celebrate! How do you do that? With copious alcohol? Like every other day here if you spend so much time in that bar......

(Nope. I can't be consoled. I am inconsolable.)

2. I tried it. [this cannot be conveyed through text, but he is standing there, holding an armful of ponies, which he grimaces at]

I'm axing the numbers, I think we might just be able to keep track without them. Sure, the alcohol helps. The 'actually wanting to be here' probably does, too.

I've got another answer to your second question, by the way. Worth two ponies, at least.

[ He sends the man an exceedingly helpful brochure. ]

(PS.: Did it work? Is your room swamped with therapy ponies to help you overcome your grief? Because we've got a therapist's office somewhere in case they're not working.)

you WANT to be here? how the hell did that happen?

hey, it is worth two ponies. i'll even give you your favorite colors. i'm guessing you're at the bar, because you're about to get a delivery.

[Damon sends back a picture in answer]

i don't do therapy so the ponies will have to do. i think their sparkly eyes have seen the depths of hell and back. great wisdom.

[ Always bit of a rhetorical question, isn't it? Less Philip's why, as long as people get to keep their no way in hell. Usually comes across like that, anyway. Anyway. ]

Long story short? I'm rather dead in my world, and quite alive in this one. I prefer the latter. Plus, every five years or so some stranger delivers free plastic ponies to me at the bar¹, so what's not to love?

¹ The bar where I currently am, full marks for deduction on that one.

[Damon tilts his head to the side thoughtfully.]

That would do it. So this is some version of an afterlife? Y'know, it's just me doing my part. I'm generous like that. Gotta give you a reason to love the only place you can be alive at.

I am all about quality deduction. [He's also on his way rn]

Honestly, they probably had me at 'free drinks and immortality', but who could say no to plastic bonus ponies?

[ Everyone. Probably literally and absolutely everyone. Is this a good time for anecdotes about the talking ponies that used to be here years ago? ...Never mind, it's never a good idea to break out anecdotes about talking ponies. Especially not the pink ones. Jesus. ]

Anyway, I doubt that it is. Most people here are perfectly alive when they arrive, and alive enough when they leave. I guess you could go with 'multi-dimensional limbo', if that's your sort of thing.

[ When Damon arrives he'll spot a guy sitting in a corner, nursing a bottle of whiskey. He's smoking a cigarette, and hasn't looked up from his book so far. ]

Multi-dimensional limbo. [Damon says the words out loud as he steps into the bar. His own bottle is empty at this point, and he saunters up beside him, placing the pony that he has handpicked for him

out on the bar beside him]

Harry Potter? [Damon can't say much. He did read Twilight out of boredom]

[ Philip wasn't sure the guy would actually show, especially pony in tow, so the sight gets a voiceless laugh. And well, obviously there's no repaying a gift that valuable, but he figures he can start by putting away the book, and pouring two glasses.

--And for two seconds he wonders if maybe he should just write a note this time, because the permanent silence of his text messages isn't getting any louder in person. But then, what better place to wash down the sound of someone else's voice in your head than a bar? ]

What? It's educational. You wouldn't believe the sort of people this place drags in.

[ And their worlds with them. Because honestly, Philip would like to say that he didn't spend several days thinking he was a professor at Hogwarts, but he can't. He really can't, anymore.

(That's probably another thing that would've been handy to know on his first day.) ]

[Damon sinks down on to the seat as he sees the glass poured for him, and he reaches for it, downs it, and then blinks, making a face at the realization there's a voice in his head. What the- It's about time for Damon to do what Damon has been doing best since he showed up at Wonderland: state the obvious.]

Your voice was in my head.

[Of course, he's already taking a drink from his glass before he waits for his response to that, which he's pretty sure will happen in his head again.]

[ Philip admires his gift horse, which luckily doesn't have much of a mouth to look into anyway, and puts out his smoke. Time for the old ranking then. On a scale from cheerful acceptance to putting a bullet through his head he'd say that's a solid eight. ]

Well, I can't actually talk, so that's the only place it's ever going to be.

[ He raises his glass before taking a drink, and pulls out his comm device before getting to the usual way out. ]

There, or nowhere at all, if you'd rather keep getting text messages. [ A smirk twitches at the corner of his lips. ] Handwritten notes, that's an option too, but just for you, since you got me a prize pony.

[Damon smirks as he sees Philip admiring the gift horse like he is doing, and he takes another drink from the glass in front of him. There's a moment, a pause at the explanation that he can't actually talk. He seems to pause in deliberation. There's a My Little Pony bag slung over his shoulder with (you guessed it) more ponies inside.]

Not the strangest thing I've heard all day. [It helps that vampires have a thing where they can get into people's heads which is creepier. Namely, when someone's sleeping, they can alter the dreams they're having, and Damon's done this before to others and had it done to him to. This is just a conversation... resounding in his head.]

As sweet as handwritten notes would be, I'd hate for you to get a hand cramp. You've got a brand new pony to take care of. [Damon takes another drink of the glass in front of him.] So did the telepathy come with the whole... [Damon places a hand over his mouth. Because that's kind of useful.]

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