entranceway | action/video } from Ace of Spades, the Wonderland blog of Georgia Mason, entry #6

Action

Georgia steps out of the wood, barefoot, ready to make what excuses she needs to and… stops. Dr. Thomas is nowhere in sight, and this definitely isn't the CDC biodome she was in before. Anyone observing would find it hard to recognize her. She looks so different from the girl she was before. Skinny to the point of malnourished, dressed in white, CDC-issued pajamas, her hair, short again at least, thank fuck, is streaked patchy with bleach instead of dyed back to her natural color. And then there are her eyes, clear brown instead of flat and black, unprotected by sunglasses even in the afternoon sunlight, and she's not flinching from the brightness. Still, there's a certain determination to her scowl that's familiar enough, even if the rest is wrong.

A mix of emotions lance through her as she looks around. An initial burst of fear of what they'll do to her if they catch her not where she's supposed to be. Annoyance at the fear. She's Georgia Mason, dammit, being where she's not supposed to be is something she's good at. Relief at the thought that maybe, no matter how impossible it seems, she's somehow managed to escape. Confusion, since people don't just turn around and find themselves escaped from secure facilities.

And over all of those a creeping, almost disturbing sense of familiarity. She knows this place. She didn't seconds before, but all the memories are rushing back to her in a burst of almost confusing intensity. Wonderland. Her heart starts hammering, the impossibility of the situation melting away in the face of a far more important realization. Shaun's here.

She pulls the tiny ceramic gun from her waistband. It fits into her hand like it was made for her, which it likely was, as she stalks purposefully towards the mansion. She misses her fucked up eyes more than she ever thought possible, and more than that, misses her sunglasses. It's so much harder to mask her emotions, to keep herself from looking wide-eyed with the fear still racing through her veins, with her face naked and her eyes so fucking expressive. She marches forward, gun pointed down, but ready to raise it at a moment's notice. She has to get to the mansion. She has to get to Shaun. She has to warn him.

Video

[Georgia doesn't address the network until later, when she's had a chance to clean up. Her hair's dyed back to its usual dark brown. She has a black blazer over a white shirt, a few sizes smaller than she's used to, but they look like her clothes. She has shoes and she's seriously debating sleeping in them. And she has sunglasses, wrapping the world back in its usual comforting monotone and hiding her far too normal eyes. She looks like herself again. She nods as the recording starts.]

My name is Georgia Mason, and I can tell you for a fact that I have never been here before in my life.

[She shakes her head, holding up a hand.]

I have never been here before, and yet I remember everything. I remember space. I remember wizard school. I remember paintball and New Year's parties and writing op-eds that pissed people off and actually starting a print publication.

[It's almost comforting that she feels the same amount of disdain for print. Anything that's the same about her is something to cling to. She takes a deep breath before continuing.]

I remember a lot of things that didn't happen to me. Up to and including, my brother holding a gun to the base of my skull and shooting me before I could turn into a zombie. I know that didn't happen to me because that's not the sort of thing you live through. Those are all things that happened to Georgia Mason and I--

[She smiles shallowly, almost sadly, and forces herself to keep looking at the camera. Not like anyone can see where her eyes are pointing through the sunglasses, but it's important to her that she stays strong.]

I'm the closest thing you're gonna get. I'm a genetically identical clone with 97% of her memories, and how the fuck that can include Wonderland when I didn't remember it at the time of my death is one of many things about this place that will never make sense to me. It's up to you to decide if I still count as her. I don't know how to be anyone else.

[She adjusts her sunglasses, leaning in towards the camera and adds, in an entirely pleasant and matter-of-fact tone:]

Now. Can anyone tell me where the fuck my brother wound up? His stuff's still here, but he's not answering his phone. If Wonderland was seriously enough of an asshole to take him away before I got back, I'm going to start setting things on fire until I get him back.

[She reaches to turn off the camera, then hesitates. Nothing matters as much as finding Shaun, but that doesn't mean nothing else matters. She's Georgia Mason, for better or for worse, and she has a paper to run.]

Until I find him, address all queries about The Shattered Mirror to me. Thank you.

[She cuts the feed. Now she gets to wait. She's held herself together this long. She can manage another week. Fuck she hopes it's not more than a week.]

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Fuck. [But at least it confirms worst case scenario. If no one had seen him in days he could have been gone for days or he could have been hiding and avoiding people.] I guess I've waited this long already. What's another week?

[And she won't be going through tests and can use computers (even if she still doesn't have internet) and it's only torture because he's so close but also nowhere near. She can still smell him on the pillows in their room. It's somewhere between comforting and agonizing.]

[She says like it's no big deal, though Tim doesn't believe that for a second. And he has a feeling that she would accept an "I'm sorry" with about as much grace and patience as Shaun had indicated he would, so he keeps those words to himself.]

They playing cards have already indicated that we're going to have a very diverting weekend.

[Not that it will actually distract her in any way, but it may help pass the time.]

And now I'm suddenly jealous of Shaun for being gone. [She'd seen the post. She'd read up on everything she'd missed and only wished there was more to read. She did take the time to glance at the files they'd gotten for Christmas, the one about the unnamed clone and the one about her immunity. She hadn't been able to get very far without wanting to scream. She needs to save them. Maybe for when Shaun's there too.]

Aren't we all. But maybe we'll luck out and it will be a low level of trauma and you'll have some good stories for him.

With my luck, it'll be zombies and I'll have to hear him bitch about missing them for the rest of our time here.

...Technically that might also qualify as good stories, but I think I can see your point.

It'll be great stories. [If she survives, anyway. But zombies have never killed her.] I'll be sure to write them down.

Somehow, I don't think that will be much of a problem for you.

[Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh, icky feelings.]

Are you all right?

I'm alive. [That's not an answer, especially since she isn't supposed to be.] The rest, I'm working on.

Well, alive is a good place to start. It's a good baseline for going forward, anyway, since you don't really get anywhere without that.

It's true. Everything I wrote was really boring while I was dead.

I've found that's the case with most dead authors. Very little substance.

Brings a whole new meaning to burying the lede.

I thought terrible jokes were my hob.

It's rare, but I do occasionally have a sense of humor.

I don't doubt it, but that was pretty bad.

[She shrugs.] Hey, give me a break, I've been dead for like a year. Anyway, this is probably why I'll never make it as a humor columnist.

Well, from what I hear, you're better at the truth anyway.

It is my specialty. Just the facts. People can make up their own minds once they have those.

See, that seems a lot more important to me than a sense of humor.

Me too, obviously. [It's why she's made it her life's calling.] There's not much I value more than the truth.

[Just Shaun, really.]

[He can guess at the one thing she does value more, but he doesn't feel any particular need to point out the obvious.]

That's one of the things I admire about you.

Even if it's occasionally inconvenient.

Yes, it generally is when people try to lie to me or keep secrets.

[She raises an eyebrow, though she looks more amused than mad. He admitted it, after all, and his world is very different from hers. She gets that. For him, secrets make sense.]

How awkward for them. [But he doesn't look especially put-out either. She's said she's not publish his identity, and he believes her. Besides, he's not even sure anymore whether that would be a bad thing. It's Wonderland. His entire history is available in the library.]

Well. Some of them are better at handling it than others.

[Gasp it's an... actual compliment?? Maybe??]

That doesn't seem to have changed, at least.

[Video]

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