[personal profile] nascensibility
[There comes a time in a woman’s life when she hopes to not come across bodies as often as she has in the past. A sentiment such as this may constitute as strange and unusual when the woman in question is an archaeologist who encounters bodies with frequency in her work, but those bodies tend to be 1.) dead, 2.) thousands of years old, and 3.) unmistakably mummified. Evelyn’s experiences with finding bodies in Wonderland is that they are only sometimes dead, very young by comparison, and do not resemble the human equivalent of a prune.

Still - it would be kind of this place to afflict her with recent corpses and the indisposed less often, because psychology textbooks from the future claim that stress is a dangerous incapacitator. If Wonderland could manage this sooner rather than later, it would be ideal.

Oh, God.

[An early afternoon walk through the orchards, branches covered in a dusting of snow, the same crunching underfoot and she sees a child lying supine next to the base of a tree. Evelyn immediately thinks of the young man she once found in the library, of Steve Rogers sprawled on the beach and bleeding out, of Philip pocked with knife wounds and she stumbles over to cup a cold cheek, falling to her knees at the girl’s side. She’s soaked to the skin.


Panic claws at her insides when she falls back on what little medical expertise a doctor once gave her and she feels for a pulse, sensing nothing and fumbling for her communicator to tap out a network-wide missive. Send out a call for help first, echos a soft voice in her head, unwelcome but not wrong, and begin cardiopulmonary resuscitation - if there was one thing that Hannibal Lecter taught her, it was how to manage first response.


[Immediately following the message she sends one to Joel Miller while her fingers shake.]

found ellie need your help north edge of orchards

[Evelyn drops her phone, opens Ellie’s airway, and begins the emergency procedure.]
singloversing: Asleep - The Smiths (Don't try to wake me in the morning)
[personal profile] singloversing
cw: drowning )

[Wirt gasps so hard for air when he revives that he starts coughing, and it takes him a minute or so to stop. He's alive. He's alive and everything feels sort of foggy, but in that fog is a new clarity. There's relief and there's fear, but also certainty that he didn't have before.

He's soaking wet and a bundle of nerves but he has to say something. In an impulsive fit of desperation, he holds his network device in trembling hands and blurts out an SOS to whoever will listen and care.

Or...he tries to.

I-I go how what happied tome me! I'm how happening...hap at home! I'm not die! Mime-- I'm stilled dive! It sot too later...

[He doesn't seem to hear how he sounds. He just has a desperate look that whatever he's trying to say is of dire importance.]

Trainer diddin hitch...didn't...I-I'm all I've!

[That's all he can manage and he's concerned about worrying everyone, but this matters too much and if he doesn't seize the opportunity now he knows he won't.]
nascensibility: I'm just gifted like that (liable to walk into anything and anyone)
[personal profile] nascensibility

I would like to submit a formal, if belated, apology to all those who were inconvenienced by our last event1. It was from my world and no doubt had a discombobulating effect. If there are lingering queries, please direct them to me in the archival room located in the west wing of the library, first floor.

In news that is more favourable but tangentially-related: I am interested in the temporal demographics of those in residence here, as it has been some time since I last conducted a survey of this nature. I am myself from the year 1935, but as I understand it this fits into a very specific timeline from a very specific world, and there are other worlds with differing dating systems and dimension-specific technological innovations. This is not a formal study, but a personal inquiry to satisfy curiosity.

As always, I can be found in the stacks unless the day is particularly fine.

-E. O’Connell

1Said event consisted of (likely foreign and uncomfortable) early-20th century clothing in unforgiving Sudanese desert climes, a hazardous oasis with irritable locals, and frequent aural and visual disorientation.
normandysbest: (« [Disgust] Don't talk 2 me or my son)
[personal profile] normandysbest
[The video comes on to show Shepard's face, looking like she is a hairline trigger from 'irritated' to 'might rend something with her bare hands', but really, can best be described as 'done with her entire life, and looking into the camera like she's on the Office as demons scream behind her. In literal Hell'.]

Alright. This probably should've been expected out of this place eventually. But y'know what? Nope. Not doing this like we've done the last couple events. 'Mm just not.

[She pans the camera around to display her surroundings, about in the middle of the 'camp' they all seem to have been dumped in.]

No more divide and falter. If you can fight, and you don't want to sit here and deal with this crap anymore, meet me here in the next half an hour. I'm setting up patrols and watches until Wonderland remembers it's ass from it's head. No shame if you can't, complete shame if you won't.

[Usually she'd smile or do a mock salute, but she's just... she's just done. She's so fucking done.]

See you soon. Don't die.
chocolatepudding: <lj user=easystreet> (Never to change)
[personal profile] chocolatepudding
[ If you remember the kid who ate himself silly when he first arrived here, he's back on the video feed. This time, though, he's not near the dining room. Instead, the background is very clearly a bedroom that pretty much screams 1983, minus the sports paraphernalia.

Dustin busies himself with his hat, realizes the video is on and grins his usual toothless grin.

Hey! [ See, he can do this video thing. He even waves to prove it. ] If you guys don't remember me, it's Dustin. I have a question for everyone.

Apparently this place messes with timelines and stuff, so everyone's from different places and different years. How many people are from 1983?

[ And also, the real reason why he made this entire broadcast in the first place: ] Also, there's someone here from where I come from. Her name's Eleven and we call her El, she's my age and has a shaved head and looks like a boy, and she'll totally kick your ass if you make her mad, but she's awesome. You guys should definitely talk to her. If she sounds confused it's okay, she just doesn't know who you are. Tell her you know me and it'll be fine. She's saved my ass and the whole town. She's a hero.
theothermrgray: (concern)
[personal profile] theothermrgray

[At this point, he was certian he had no idea where he was. Yes, the paintings and photographs were quite lovely, but he doesn't recognize any styles from the galleries of London or Paris and he certainly hasn't seen a photograph with so much color in his life.]

[Then there was the strange device he found on his person. Nevermind how a tiny thing like this manages to function without winding it up, but it displayed various messages and images along with bizzare formats. What on earth was a "video?"]

[He turned the device over in his hand for a third time and sighed. If this was the only way he can contact someone for help, he may as well learn to use it.]

Can someone tell me where I am?
I woke up in a strange gallery with a strange device.
Very confused.
Please respond.
From Dorian Gray.

[Dorian presses the send button and waits for a reply. He glances up every now and then, looking for someone in the room to talk to.]


Sep. 8th, 2016 12:01 pm
thecourier: (070)
[personal profile] thecourier
[He sounds.. tense. Like he's half holding his breath. Still, everything he says is as clear as his drawl can make it.]

First thing-- y' see someone what looks like me, 'cept scruffier-- know what yer thinkin', 'shit, Dan, there's scruffier than you?'. Yeah. Amazin'. Longer hair, no attention t' personal hygiene, y' know--, stay the fuck away from him. I'm gonna kill him myself.

[A pause.]

Second thing, I think I need a doctor. Anyone here good at diggin' bullets out? Or, whatever. Magic. Don't care.


Aug. 22nd, 2016 02:12 pm
grahamalytical: (Let it be said)
[personal profile] grahamalytical
[ Even though he's been in Wonderland for nearly two months at this point, this is the first time Will has made a post on the network, and only about the fourth time he's used his device at all. He's not a terrifically outgoing person, and it's easy for him to assume that people are probably better off without his input in most cases.

However, the network is clearly a good way to get answers and information, and ever since his conversation with Bedelia... He's been thinking a lot about "home". Been wondering if there are any people here in similar circumstances. It's been on his mind enough that eventually, he settles on simply straight-up asking people, if only to shut the train of thought down and put an end to the curiosity. And, perhaps, put himself a bit at ease. If that's even a possibility.

The question isn't posed through video, or even audio. This is more easily handled through text. And, it...makes the whole thing slightly less awkward, which doesn't hurt. ]

Is anyone out there uncertain about whether or not you'd like to go home?

Do you feel as though Wonderland may be the lesser of two evils? That you may be better off here than where you've come from?

[ Come and discuss any doubts you have about wanting to return to your world, Wonderland. Maybe you'll make him feel better about the disaster he'll be walking back into if and when he ever goes home. ]


Aug. 10th, 2016 08:48 am
agentxthirteen: (13: what are we doing here?)
[personal profile] agentxthirteen
[ Sharon appears on screen, but it isn't Sharon as she looked before. No, she doesn't appear noticeably older than before, but she seems more relaxed, more confident. More capable, maybe. Although most people might only notice that her hair is straighter.

She leans toward the camera, her lips spreading slightly into a small, knowing grin. ]
So to everyone who told me things about home and decided to leave out a rather large personal detail, very funny. You know who you are. [ Steve, Wilson, Barnes. She especially means you. She doesn't think Wanda knows about the kiss, so Wanda gets a pass.

She leans back, her hands absently shuffling her notes and setting them aside. Her grin widens, though it lacks the confidence of her smaller grin. ]

To them and everyone else, it seems I've been out of the loop for... I'm guessing a week? What have I missed?

[ Nothing big, she hopes. Please tell her there wasn't more brainwashing, and that everyone she knows survived her absence just fine and are all accounted for. ]


Jun. 14th, 2016 09:26 am
thecourier: (035)
[personal profile] thecourier
So these.. huh. The others. Mirrors.

[He rolls the word out as if it's not the right one to use, slow and a fraction uncertain, but he's pretty damn sure he's heard other people call them that and he's never been shy about making an ass of himself in any case.

A brief pause follows.

They always gonna be a cut-an'-dry opposite, or is there somethin' more to that?

[Is this a taboo subject overall? He isn't sure. Dan has been here over half a year now and still hasn't seen people ever really talk about what's on the other side of the mirrors - at least not in public.

He might draw some unwelcome attention, he reasons, but it wouldn't be the first time.

I ain't had the pleasure of seein' mine yet. Far as I'm concerned, it can stay that way.
assembles: (trying to keyword while tired)
[personal profile] assembles
[ The feed snaps on, and the frame is on the crowded side. In the foreground Steve and Wanda are seated, arranged on a couch in one of the mansion’s tea rooms, while Natasha stands behind them, leaning against the wall near the door. Steve has his phone tilted so that all of three them are visible, Wanda’s arm linked with his.

Steve’s in civilian wear, his expression composed and collected. He isn’t here to give out orders or make any speeches, though. ]

So it looks like Wonderland sent all three of us home at once. Sorry about that. [ As if they had any control over it. ] But we’re back now and more or less in one piece. [ Which isn’t the full story at all, but that isn’t something that needs to be shared with all of Wonderland.

Natasha pushes away from the wall at this and moves closer into the frame of the video, leaning on the back of the couch over Steve’s shoulder, expression mild. ]
I don’t know if any others of us were sent home recently, but if so, letting us know would be greatly appreciated.

[ Her lips quirk briefly. ] Either way, I think some of us will need to be assembling for a SitRep soon regardless. But we wanted to let you know we were back to keep people from worrying.

[ Steve glances over his shoulder at Natasha, nods, and then returns to looking at his phone. ] Let us know if we’re needed anywhere.

[ With that, the feed cuts. ]

Action option for Steve )

Action option for Natasha )

Action option for Wanda )
readytocomply: <user name=easystreet> (82)
[personal profile] readytocomply
[It had been the right thing to do. For everyone. He wasn't safe, couldn't trust himself, and while he hadn't wanted to do it, it had been the only choice. But he's been in and out of cryostasis enough to know when coming out this time isn't the same. It's not just the breeze on his skin causing his too-long hair to dance across his forehead, or the sweet, dry smell of fruit trees. No, it's the way he wakes up. Slow, naturally, like he'd slept the whole night through, and there's nothing normal about that.

The communication device his fingers are curled around doesn't bother him. Bucky's used to not remembering things, but the stalls and the vendors with their strange shapeless masks who stand nearby do. He walks past one, their face completely smooth, as featureless as a blank wall, and his breath catches in his throat, freezing him in place. There's a million explanations going through his mind and none of them make any sense except one and he doesn't want to think about that.

It takes a vender getting too close before he snaps out of it long enough to go through the motions. Better clothes, sweats and a white tank aren't cutting it, and a relatively safe place to hide so he can figure things out, grabbing a pamphlet on the way.

Bucky's face is half-hidden when the feed starts, voice low, and he wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't necessary. He was on shaky ground and he needed something to steady him.]

Name's Bucky. I'm looking for someone. Steve Rogers.

[It's risky to put it out there like that. He doesn't know these people and he's been alive long enough to know that even the prettiest people with the brightest smiles can be hiding the worst lies and secrets. But he needs to find someone he remembers. Everything is muddled and this place looks like something his mind has made up.]

He might go by Captain America.

[Just in case he's alone in Wonderland, he adds a little more.]

If someone could tell me what the hell's going on here, I'd appreciate it.

[There's a brief pause. He considers mentioning the obvious physical difference that would set him apart, but they'll figure it out when they see him.]

I'll be on the first floor, entrance hall, if anyone wants to talk in person. This way's fine, too.

[ooc: spoilers for civil war possible in this post; if anyone doesn't want them, please let me know.]
monosaccharide: canon (goliad109)
[personal profile] monosaccharide
Greetings denizens of Wonderland!

[Bubblegum looks excited today. She has a lab coat on over her pink dress, her hair piled into a bun and out of the way.]

I have made some rather alarming discoveries, and I thought I would share them with you.

[She fiddles with a remote and the picture is replaced with an image, her face shrinking to a smaller box in the corner.]

For those of you from less scientifically advanced worlds, this is a PET scan. It shows activity in the brain. As you can see, I've marked off several areas of note. This subject made an excellent example, as they have experienced unrelated amnesia as well as Wonderland memory loss. You see in "Area A," there's a darker smudge? That is what I'd expect memory loss to look like. This subject's memories have been manipulated rather extensively, so it isn't surprising that the data would be a little... fuzzy.

But the areas marked "B" and "C".... when I first noticed those I thought there might be something wrong with my equipment, but after discussion with the subject and testing my equipment further, I am forced to conclude that my reading is correct.

My subject has lost two memories from the so-called "Wonderland Events" and traded one away to the vendors. She has three dots where there is simply... no data, two smaller, one larger. This should not be possible. It certainly is alarming. Nothing should be able to remove data so thoroughly. Nothing. But if my hypothesis is correct, Wonderland is doing just that.

[She touches her control again, sending the brain scan away, her own image now taking up the entire screen. She smiles sunnily.]

Anyway, I'm happy to share my full report with anyone interested. I'd also welcome anyone willing to volunteer as a subject. The more data we have, the more substantial a theory I can build.

Thank you for your time. I will take any and all questions you may have now.
nascensibility: but will break ur neck (cute as heck)
[personal profile] nascensibility
[After months of attempted planning (most of which was frequently cast to the wayside in favour of dealing with whatever fresh Hell decided to make itself known to them all) Evelyn has come to the conclusion that there will never be a "Good Time," and has therefore decided that with that being the case, it is simply easier to set what she likes, when she likes.

This is all a very runabout way of saying that Evelyn has politely asked the Mansion - which, as we all now know, is practically sentient - to deliver the following invitation to everyone's door:

[Intangible* attachments have also been forwarded to each resident, supplemented by the following transmission:]

I'm holding a fête this Friday evening - there isn't a particular time for required attendance, it should be ongoing for several hours after dinner - and I should like as many parties as available to come. It is themed, as there are a number of us here from time periods before 1950, so appropriate attire is encouraged, but not mandated.

[This is in part due to a withering homesickness that Wonderland itself has been unable to satisfy.]

Kindly respond if you do plan to join, and I hope to see you all on Friday.

[*Evelyn is having a difficult time remembering to call them "digital."]
interpersonal: (breathless.)
[personal profile] interpersonal
[ once the event begins properly, elena acquires a gas mask and starts to run.

those early morning jogs, not to mention her training sessions with faith, are about to pay off.

down the hallway she goes, a pair of glowing red eyes distantly behind her. all that can be heard initially is elena's breathing, labored. she races past haphazardly-shaped mirrors and candles. no super speed to boast of, but she's going fast. the video function isn't intentional; she reached for her communicator with shaky hands and took what she could get. what matters is her message.
] Bonnie, Caroline— [ before elena can finish her roll call, the runner advances. ]

If you can see this, tell me where you are. Promise me you'll stay safe.

we must refuse to disappear. )
mypartnerintime: (Abbot and Costello)
[personal profile] mypartnerintime
[It's hard to trace exactly how Max got where she is now. Very early in the morning, in the cold dark, they'd heard some noise (distant, formless moaning) and gone to investigate. But they stopped somewhere on the first floor when they saw far in the distance some kind of... shapeless growth. When the air further down the corridor seemed thick with some sort of gas.

And when the distant moaning turned into rabid, strangled growls.]

Cut for length )

[[OOC: Replies will be from Max or Chloe, or both. Posting this 12:00mn EST because we're just so excited! :O]]


Apr. 4th, 2016 02:08 pm
agentxthirteen: (6: how many hit?)
[personal profile] agentxthirteen
A couple months ago, I suggested getting some self-defense lessons going. We won't always have weapons with us when Wonderland transports us someplace, and God knows we're often at a disadvantage. So I thought we could learn how to defend ourselves with or without weapons. But events came and went, it got delayed, and then to top it off- Well. It's done now.

[ She pans the camera around to show a comfortable large room. Mats are on the floor, weapons are on the wall. Everything is light and cheerful. No blood yet, either. ]

I've already talked to some of you about classes. Let me know if you're still interested. I've got sign-up sheets by the door for anyone else who wants to teach or take private lessons, that sort of thing.

So swing by or, if you can't, let me know if you're interested in lessons.

Private messages to John Blake, Evelyn O'Connell, Faith Lehane, Natasha Romanoff (616), Mystique, Chuck Hansen, Victor Frankenstein, and Philip )
mypartnerincrime: (Default)
[personal profile] mypartnerincrime
[Chloe is pacing in her room. There's blood on her bed sheets but it isn't hers. She can't keep still, she can't think straight.

If I ever find out who this son of a bitch is, I'm gonna put a bullet in his head.

She told her she was going to protect her. She told her she was going to save her.

No. Fucking. Way.

Chloe will save her and make whoever did this to her pay.

There's also blood in her fingertips. And it gets on her phone as she picks it up to send a text--

No, wait. A video's gonna be faster.

She turns on the front camera of her phone and starts recording. She's in her usual outfit-- leather jacket, white top with her bullet necklace. Her eyebrows meet in the middle as she starts to speak-- practically shout-- in the recording.]

Bitches, I fucking need a doctor right now. My best friend got stabbed by some motherfucker in this hell hole and she's bleeding badly.

[She shows the stained bed sheets before continuing. This time she is shouting.]

And to whoever hurt her, you bastard I'm gonna come for you. I. Will. Fucking. Come. For. You.

[The video ends, but not before Chloe can show everyone her middle finger.]
nascensibility: how about I take you there sometime (so Heaven is pretty nice)
[personal profile] nascensibility

[Download full-size.]

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.


Feb. 16th, 2016 11:50 pm
righthemisphere: (Default)
[personal profile] righthemisphere
So here's a question, I get that this place has people in charge of it, but is there someone in charge of us? The residents?

Or is it more of a fend for yourself kind of thing?

Also, more importantly, who here is a doctor?


Feb. 9th, 2016 06:31 pm
singloversing: Into the Unknown (theme song) - Over the Garden Wall OST (Mere echos of the spring)
[personal profile] singloversing
[When the feed flickers on there's something...not right about it. Everything's dark for a second and the screen shakes a little bit, and there's the muffled sound of someone's voice.]

I--! I think I got it! Now just--

[Something suddenly happens though - the device falls and there's glimpses of a tree and flashes of blue and red and then the ground and it's dark again. There's some groaning, and then the view flips to show Wirt, off-center, tied to a tree in the middle of the gnomes' territory. Naturally, he looks like he fits right in with that costume on, but he does not look like he's having a good time in the slightest.]

H-Hello? I-Is this...can anyone hear me? This is Wirt and I...I-I'm. These little bearded guys knocked me over and dragged me off into the woods a-and they all want to marry me, I think? They-- They've got me tied up and I could like really, really, really...j-just. Someone help? Help me? Please?

[It's becoming more and more apparent that Wirt doesn't realize he turned the video on too, and that people can see his sad, gnome-related predicament. He's also not good at throwing his voice and is just generally pretty hard to hear.]

Serious, c-can someone come untie me? Help!

[It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually he manages to end the recording with his foot. Everyone will get a super good look at his mismatched shoes in the meantime.]

[ooc: Dipper and Mabel are going to come to the rescue, but anyone else is welcome to chime in and laugh at his predicament or offer sympathy or whatnot.]
decadentdecade: (Default)
[personal profile] decadentdecade
[Bela is standing in front of the camera, dressed in pants and shirt and a brown leather jacket-rather common clothing considering the eclectic pile of clothes behind her. If anyone cares for those kind of details they'll see a wide arrangement of clothing, from suits to cocktail dresses to waitress uniforms and even a maid costume.]

So. The closet? It's a very nice touch, I have to admit. I certainly wouldn't mind having one back home. Though seemingly free food, board, and clothing just means there's a hidden cost. So what is our benevolent caretaker charging us?

And what becomes valuable in a place like this? Is there a currency in particular items? Favors? Souls? [And there's a wry smile there to indicate that might possibly be a joke.]

Or does everyone here work on altruism?

Action A: Wandering Wonderland
[Not one to idly sit when her surroundings are so undiscovered, and therefore a little bit threatening, Bela takes to exploring the grounds with a casual step that belies just how uncomfortable she really feels. She can be found idly touching decor along the walls of the mansion, or grabbing something to eat in the dining room, or eyeing the titles of books in the library even if she doesn’t actually reach for any right now.

[ooc: This is your find her wandering anywhere you want to option.]

Action B: An unlocked room is an invitation.
[After exploring the more open grounds, Bela can be found roaming the hallways. It’s a seemingly innocent gesture by itself, except for the subtle jiggle of a handle here and there as she moves about. Just her way of...well, casing the place. Not that she’s planning on stealing anything quite yet, but she’ll feel more comfortable once she’s got a good map of the surroundings and people around her since it doesn’t seem like she’ll be leaving very soon.

Occasionally, when she finds an unlocked door, she casually opens it just to get a good idea of the room-and on the occasion that someone is actually in their room without bothering to lock the door, well, she smiles sheepishly and offers an embarrassed apology.]

Oh, I’m sorry. I have the wrong room. [Ignore the subtle sweep around the room before she tries to retreat.]

Action C: A locked one is just a challenge.
[She’s good. For a while. But after finding so many empty and unlocked rooms, she’s a little curious to see what’s inside a locked one. And just as curious to see how easy it is to pick a lock on these particular doors.

So she chooses a random one in a rather quiet hallway, listens near the door for any tell-tale sign of shuffling, and when she thinks she’s in the clear, she kneels down and jimmies the lock, before pushing the door open. If there’s no immediate reaction, she’ll take a step inside. Just a quick scouting mission, don’t worry, she’s not here to steal anything.]


Dec. 29th, 2015 12:58 pm
thecourier: (024)
[personal profile] thecourier
I found a, uh...

[He waves a small leather-bound book with a flaking gilt cross pressed into the cover at the camera.]

This. In the room I'm usin'. Don't know if it's someone's idea of a bad fuckin' joke or what... [The last part is muttered to himself as he flicks the book open to a marked page and sets it down, focusing the video on the passage.]

Reading ain't a strong point of mine. Someone could do me a big favour in tellin' me what the hell this says.
sheriffing: commission; please do not use (🌟 202)
[personal profile] sheriffing
That's one hell of a welcoming committee.

[So far, all Ewaymas has offered her is more of the same; another opportunity to run for her life, courtesy of a flesh-eating wendigo. Getting the lay of the land had been a good idea until that thing showed up while she was out in the forest. The result is a breathless savior talking through panted breaths. She might not know what's going on here, but she doesn't like it.

Then again, getting trapped in another realm is never really a pleasant experience for her, and she's done it a few of times now.]

I'm guessing all of you can see me.

[It's a shaky image; she's still moving, rushing around to avoid something she's already outrun. You might be able to catch her as she heads into the mansion, slowing her pace just enough to avoid a collision with anyone who she might run into now that she's indoors.]

My name is Emma Swan, and I'm from a town called Storybrooke. If that means anything to you, I need you to say something. [Honestly, she doesn't even know what the hell to hope for. She doesn't want her family involved in this. They spend more time falling through portals than they do safe at home. If she has to take this on by herself, she will.

All she needs now is confirmation; if they're where they're supposed to be, then this is about finding a way home. A portal, a magic bean, anything that gets her back to the moment she was pulled away from. ]
... If it doesn't, and you know a way out of here, that would help, too.

[ooc: Feel free to catch her wandering through the mansion if you want to see her in person.]
agentxthirteen: (04: i'm rethinking the nickname)
[personal profile] agentxthirteen
Is there any sort of self-defense training for civilians already in place?

If not, I'd like to start something. It would be laid-back. Mostly sparring and showing each other moves.

I know we can't prepare for everything here, but it's important that we all know how to defend ourselves should the need arise.

If anyone's interested, get in touch. I'm available via the comm, and I'll also be in the Fitness Center on the first floor for the next couple hours.
rickochet: (returns 17)
[personal profile] rickochet
[He turns the device over in the hands a few times, trying to make heads or tails of it. It begins recording during his fumbling, so whoever is watching gets a nice view of his hands, his bandoliers, his shoes… all before focusing on his face.]

I'm supposed to believe this is some kind of radio? How does that work?

[He hits it with his hand, and the video fills with the appropriate amount of static for the level of abuse it's withstanding.]

Hello. My name is Rick O'Connell. Is anyone out there receiving this? If someone'll come back to me on the line, I could really use some info right about now.

[With no idea what he's doing, Rick randomly starts poking the device until it finally cuts the video feed. Muted swearing can be heard before the audio dies as well.]

ACTION option under the cut to save space )
sorryitasedyou: (I want to change my mind)
[personal profile] sorryitasedyou
[The feed opens to a view of the night sky in Wonderland and maybe a soft snicker from behind the camera before it pans around to rest on two faces. It’s pretty clear they’re on the roof with a nice collection of blankets, coffee, notebooks, and a laptop.]

Is it on? Oh-- OK, so it’s clear that Wonderland’s sky at night is foreign in terms of patterning and that the stars don’t really play much of a part in our lives that maybe they would for some of us back home. They have no bearing on religion or navigation, which were two major necessities in ancient cultures in our world. But they do deserve to be studied, which means they should be named. Now, I don’t think that the Bayer desig--

What she means is the stars don’t look like anything from home. [Darcy turns to look at Jane, a smirk playing on her lips as she not-so-quietly whispers.] I don’t think they need to know the deets about Bayer or ancient cultures, Jane.

It’s important to understand how constellations were named in the first place, though. Those cultures regarded the stars with awe and respect, and named them using a range of things from everyday objects to important mythical figures. Orion, for example. [At that, Jane holds up a page of her notebook, showing a connect-the-dots hourglass, with “Orion: the Hunter” scribbled above it to illustrate her example, literally.] I thought if people had a basis for how they were usually named, it would help generate submissions.

Or, if you’re more of the free spirit type, you could follow your own heart and do something a little crazy because even if you shoot for the moon and miss, you’ll land among the stars… And that’s a pretty great constellation prize, right?

[GUESS WHO’S SO PROUD OF HERSELF!!! It’s amazing how many star puns you can come up with when tuning out excited science babble over the years.]

OK, then did you have a suggestion? [Even as Jane says it, she visibly winces, dropping her journal back down. After those puns? She really should not have asked...]

Fraz. [It’s said so confidently and without missing a beat, it might be enough to cause a bit of worry. Time to see if Jane’s with her on the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy nod.]

Fraz. OK. Right, so there’s a more … creative name. [Jane will just … go with that one, in the spirit of being a good sport-- though it’s not immediately clear if she’s recognized it until she continues:] So if you’re from a different world than us, you could choose something you already know if you don’t want to make something up.
[So, that’s weird. Weird enough that Darcy actually pauses for a second to stare at Jane.]

Yeah, somethin’ like that. Or, if you want you can always come hang out up here with us for a bit, but it’s gonna be a byob situation because I can only share so much blanket.

Uhm. [Ah, that does make Jane pause a bit, finally. But she rallies, in the name of making Darcy happy:] Sure. Yeah, we could get the telescope out if anyone wants to have a closer look?

[There’s the pause Darcy knows and loves. It may or may not have been a little push to see just how wonky Jane was behaving - do her own experiment and the results? Well, Jane agreeing to other people coming to hang out while they science? Interesting. Interesting enough that they’re just gonna have to have a little chat before anybody gets up to the roof.]

Oooh, the whole nine yards. This could be exciting. We’ll probably be up here for awhile or at least until we can’t feel our faces or feet anymore - then it might be time to give into the cold and accept defeat. [Turning to Jane, she gives a little shrug and a quirk of her lips.] Anything else you wanna add?

Just that if you can’t think of anything right away, that’s fine. I’ll be putting the star charts I’ve made in the library and you can leave suggestions with it there. [Jane smiles, bright and a little awkward. Not everyone is about the stars like they are, but maybe some will come out of the woodwork now.]

Alrighty then, we’ll be up here chillin’ if you want to come hang out or give us your suggestions. I also have more puns if that’s that’s more your thing. Ok, bye!

[And with that, she gives a little wave and ends the feed because there was something else that needed to be addressed before anyone else graced them with their presence. If anyone’s looking close enough, they might have caught the eye roll from Jane at the pun suggestion. There’s only so much placating that can be done in a day.]

[ooc: red is Jane and blue is Darcy. Feel free to do action threads :D]


Oct. 28th, 2015 08:19 pm
singloversing: Into the Ocean - Blue October (I spin colliding into sound)
[personal profile] singloversing
[Wirt's been a little more rattled than usual since that weird nightmare - he's not even supposed to be having nightmares anymore and the fact that something snuck through his deal has him on edge.

He has bigger problems right now though, big enough that he's actually making an awkward post on the network - something he hasn't done since Greg went missing months ago.

Uhhhhh. ...Hi. [There's a reason he doesn't normally do this. But Wirt shakes his head and makes himself press on.] I-- I was in the library for a while, and when I came back, W-Well, just. Here. Look.

[Wirt shakily turns the camera out toward the hall, and several of the mirrors in his hall have HELP written unevenly, like whoever was writing did not have very much time to write neatly on the glass. Wirt reaches out a hand and tries to wipe it away, but it doesn't even smudge, and when he shows his fingers to the screen there's no ink on them.

From there, he quietly takes the video into his room, to a mirror on the farthest wall. That same handwriting reads.


[From there, Wirt turns the camera back to himself, looking very...conflicted.] I...I-I don't really know what I should be doing here. Has anyone else gotten weird messages? Should we like...I-I don't think we really can do anything. Right? I mean, I don't even know who it's from o-or if it's even...a thing. I dunno. ...I dunno?

[He looks distinctly like he's terrified to have anything to do with this least he passed it along? Kind of? He probably wasn't a great choice for this. He mutters a barely audible ending to the post and then ends the post pretty abruptly.]
madehervows: (pic#6950413)
[personal profile] madehervows
I'm sure some of are you wondering what that was, [Regina's just gonna get right into it, skipping any formality since the mansion just spent the last couple days tearing itself apart. She also sticks to audio because there's a time and a place for explaining her sudden appearance change, and it's not right now.] or whose fault it was.

[At least, she knows she'd like to know who to blame if it had happened to her.]

It was the Spell of Shattered Sight, and it came from my world. A woman named Ingrid cast it on us so we'd kill each other, something that happened in a matter of hours as opposed to days.

[It wouldn't be a 'Regina owns up to an event' post without snide commentary on the effects. Also nobody actually died in Storybrooke but details.]

Fortunately, once you've been affected by the spell, it can't work on you again. I doubt it'll ever be a problem again, but you never know with Wonderland.

[Also yes, that's her admitting she was immune the whole time. The feed clicks off after that, hope you weren't looking for an apology.]
eatyourdirt: (7)
[personal profile] eatyourdirt
[It wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume that this broadcast is an accident. After all, it’s currently a very clear view of a blue bird standing on the phone and bending down to peer into the camera. She seems more interested in the thing than most animals are, but still, just a cute little bluebird, staring into the screen.]

Other people can see this, right?

[….okay, most bluebirds don’t talk. Beatrice moves back and adjusts the phone, leaning it up against something so that she can get the whole view.]

Great. I’m looking for two idiots. One’s tallish and has a red cone on his head. The other has a frog and a tea pot. They’re probably being completely useless and walking into walls without me, so if you could return them to me? That’d be just great. I’d also really appreciate it if anyone could point me towards the way out of here.

[She leans forward, eyes widening innocently.] You should know, it’s a very good idea to help out magical creatures. I’d owe you a boon! And you never know when that could come in handy.

[She hesitates and adds:]

And Wirt, Greg? If you’re listening? I’m— [She pauses, shakes her head, and hunches a little, pulling her wings tight against her body.] Just tell me where you are, okay?


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