+ some wonderlands are kind

[The skies of Wonderland thrum to an unaccustomed sound - the roar of rotors. An unmarked black helicopter menacingly circles the skies above the mansion. Those familiar with such things might recognize it as a V-22 Osprey, a US military aircraft. It's not carrying the newest Wonderland resident; he is the newest Wonderland resident. Nick Zerhakker, transhuman cyborg aircraft, is confused and very angry.]

[Only a few minutes after the helicopter's abrupt appearance, a new log is uploaded to the network. The video shows a moving aerial view of the grounds and the mansion, with the dull roar of the chopper's engines in the background.]

--primrose beech tips! What in the slant locking flooring pit is this train score? Where's the buzzing sat-com? Where the SWELL is the raid puffing GPS? TOWEL RACKS!

[The unseen speaker sounds like a young man with a North Philly accent, shouting at the top of his lungs. From his tone, it seems "beech tips" and the rest are meant to be curses, but the more nonsensical words come out haltingly and sounding just a bit off, like a poorly-redubbed movie. Nick hates his censoring software at the best of times, but boy does he loathe it right now. A helicopter has no lungs to take a deep breath with, but he plays the appropriate sighing sound anyway and makes an effort to gather his thoughts.]

This is recording, right? Okay! My name's Nick Zerhakker, I work for the saddle churning US government. [Which is completely true, but he holds off on saying how, exactly. He's not military or CIA or anything, but also not exactly keen on explaining that Project Skin Horse is only a desperately underfunded social services department.] Any of the pill tasters on this network want to tell me what the pluck just happened? This is the only moth-eaten signal I can find. From the look of things I ain't in warbling Kansas anymore, and I don't see Toto either, so it'd be pretty nice to get some answers!

[In the helicopter's-eye-view shown in the video, the mansion comes closer as Nick slowly begins to descend. There's no guarantee that someone here will have diesel handy when he needs to refuel, so it'd be nice to be able to land and save some power. He has his eye on the roof of that big mansion, if there's a space large and flat enough to hold him, but he'll settle for a reasonably smooth patch of lawn.]

I'm seein' humaniforms on the carbonated ground, so, hope someone gets this message. Do I have permission to land on the roof of this whooping cough massive building and sort things out?

[After uploading his video, Nick waits, hovering above the mansion fretfully. He'd rather not make a bad first impression in wherever-the-hell this place is by stepping on any toes, but if he doesn't get a prompt response he'll be tempted to pick his own landing zone.]