001 | Video

Feb. 9th, 2015 06:58 pm
adamyoung: (009)
[personal profile] adamyoung
Cor!” is the first thing the device broadcasts, along with a very lopsided view of the Checkerboard Hills. After a fumble, it turns around to reveal a boyish face thatched with golden hair.

“We’ve got to form teams,” proclaims Adam, with a bright, infectious grin. “We’ve got a whole hillside checkers board! Its…”

He pauses a heartbeat as he counts in his head.

“...twelve pieces on each side, so we need twelve people in one color shirt, and another twelve in another color. Red and black is traditional, but it’s alright if we do some other color, ‘cause for example, more people might have white shirts than red shirts. Lots of people have white or black shirts, right? An’ if there’s more than twenty-four people who want to play, we’ll have to take turns, so it’s first come, first serve.”

He says the last part quite sternly, in the manner of a thirteen-year-old taking charge. No cutting in line, kids.

Wonderland, say hello to Adam Young.
wordvomit: gordon ramsey can't touch me (FUCKIN DONE)
[personal profile] wordvomit
[What's that jaunty tune making its way through the tinny speakers on your communicator? Why, it's a charming polka accompanying the nonsensical humming of the one and only Swedish Sweet-ish Chef!]

Herm dee derm dee dee, bee yung ga durka dur, ye-oh gooday on gorp fum bork bork bork!

[Considerably shorter than his usual six-feet-and-four-inches, felted fingers slipping on slick metal utensils as they fly out of his hands and across the room, the Pie Maker Sweet-ish Chef find himself...frustrated, even as his toque bounces in a most delightfully charming fashion. His work is worthwhile and he has long-since abandoned stainless steel for wooden implements while attempting to mix a pie filling, productivity cut in half no thanks to the event.]

Hrrmmm. Herty der flerty floopin. I shmer der floompty...hoon chocolate mousse!

[Perhaps the most annoying part of this experience outside of having little control over his limbs is the constant compulsion to talk when everything that he says makes absolutely no sense.]

Lee me shur hurr de chocolate- [Watch his dexterity as he carefully grips the dish of thick, rich chocolate, spooning it into a large bowl!] -und der handee mit on de hue- [Admire his prowess with the spatula as he flings it across the kitchen as soon as he's done with it!] -list andee hun derfa badiska doo! Now, fer doo mousse!

[See him turn to fetch- oh, no, that's a real goddamn moose he's trying to put into a pie.



Jan. 10th, 2015 09:22 am
dissemble: (We mean it but)
[personal profile] dissemble
[The Lucifer on your screen is not a happy Lucifer. He seems quite disgusted. Human. Again. This is really intolerable.]

Every time this forsaken place decides to throw something new for you to deal with, it makes everyone here human. I guess Wonderland just really likes giving you all no chance of overcoming these threats outright. [You humans have no hope of beating these things.]

I'll see you when this is over. [Is that a threat to hole up somewhere, or something else...?] Someone keep an eye on Sam for me.

[ooc: Lucifer will respond for around a day before he'll let himself get killed. Fuck being human!]
wordvomit: not joking BYE (mmkay no hard feelings but I hate you)
[personal profile] wordvomit

[In the chill, still of the night, snow falling in flurries that swirl around his lanky frame, the Pie Maker tracks the edges of a large house and clings to the solid source in his moment of weakness. Rumpled and out of sorts, comically large scarf dragging the ground and mismatched galoshes trudging through several inches of slush and ice, Ned's desperation is palpable as his voice cracks on a single word:]


[Periodically he will pause, turn in place, shifting his arms over his chest to keep out the cold as it rattles his chest and squeezes his lungs and each breath curls steamily away into the night air. With growing horror he recognizes the window frames, their monotonous Federal style and trim, and knows they do not belong to apartments in the city where he lives and works.

With substantially greater horror does Ned realize that he is not home anymore, balling up snow with his bare, freezing hands and flinging it at the nearest window, a cry of galvanized agony tearing his throat apart.

The facts were these:

On a cold night in a warm room, Chuck and Ned were nestled in their respective single beds, a truth hanging over the Pie Maker and trying to claw its way out. Lying is not easy but it is often easier, and while the knitting detective, Emerson Cod, had told him to bite his tongue, the truth spilled out like so many tons of water through a sluice in the Stingwell Dam. Unfettered, unhindered, unintentional. With four simple words - I killed your dad - Ned rent apart the trust and faith Chuck had in him, a clamoring din of shouting voices to follow, much of what was actually said lost in translation. Chuck took the elevator and Ned took the stairs, slipping down half of them to catch up.

By the time he got to the bottom of the building, she was gone.

Now Ned has tracked snow into Wonderland's Mansion, feeling a pale shadow of the vaguely dark shadow that he once was, mechanical in his steps and stricken with the notion that his search for Chuck is further postponed by his return to the pocket universe he remembers like a particularly vivid dream. The Pie Maker does not make it to the eighth floor diner, dragging his feet to the first-floor kitchen at three in the morning and losing his snow-damp coat on a chair along the way. His scarf and phone find the floor and his fingers find the handle of the refrigerator, clinging to stainless steel tightly as his shoulders shake.

For a long moment Ned stands paralyzed before jerking the door open and reaching for the butter. Flour, sugar, salt, and ice water follow, and while his movements are deft, practiced, they are stiffened with shock, going through the motions of preparing dough. He makes an excess, the coping mechanism of stress-baking putting a dozen pies into the oven as he draws out the first, apple, and lays it to rest on the table to cool, seating himself at the chair in front of it.

The Pie Maker inhales the smell of home, and feels all the more hollow for it.
onlyhomemade: (Oh no you didn't)
[personal profile] onlyhomemade
[Some citizens of Wonderland will be given a special treat today from the Archangel in the form of a slip of the thumb over the record option. He's not yet realized it either, he's too distracted by someone off screen. The expression he wears is one of surprise, like meeting an old friend you haven't seen in ages, though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.]

Charlie. My but it's been a long time since Paradise Falls.

[The device drops to hang lazily at an upside down angle from his grasp near his leg so you get a view of the young woman who looks disgusted and none-too-happy to have met the Archangel in the hallway.]

Like you have any right to say that to me. Go to hell.

[In that moment the young, former waitress manages to catch the Archangel off-guard with some well-deserved karmic retribution in the form of a swift kick to the balls. Her bold, knee-jerk reaction is unexpected, so he'll give her that one. There's a gut-wrenching grunt of a noise as the air leaves his lungs and he crumples, dropping the phone in favor of grabbing himself and squeezing his knees in tight. He uses the wall as support as Charlie goes running for her life down the 10th floor hall, calling for help.

He wheezes, teeth grit for a few seconds as he glares after the young woman for a few heartbeats to recover. When he can breath he starts laughing, low at first then loudly. He'll then slowly push off the wall, hobbling a bit as he stoops to pick up his device and frown at it.

I hope you're all satisfied.

[He grumbles, realizing that was caught on camera and then turns the feed off.]

((ooc: Anyone on the 10th floor is welcome to hear that and poke their head out or come running or what not.))


Dec. 29th, 2014 05:20 pm
notready: (pic#8659004)
[personal profile] notready
[ She’s been poking at the device as if doing that would help her understand and figure out what’s happened to her. She can handle a little conversation, probably, and Charlie’s mouth thins in concentration, turning the thing over so she can record herself. Her blond hair is curled and still somewhat of a mess, having pulled the bandana free. ]

Hey, uh… [ What’s she supposed to say? ] I know y’all probably get this a lot, but it’d be real nice if someone explained what was going on. Last I checked, the world hadn’t exploded -- thank God, whatever, I know -- but everything’s a little upside down for me right now.

[ She rolls her eyes up, looking around as if trying to get her bearings, and the video shows off one of the many hallways--close to her room on the fifth floor. ]

Lookin’ for someone too. Can’t say for sure if he’s here though… [ And she bites at her lip. Should she even say his name? ] So, lost and found. I guess? Anyone want to tell me where that’s at? And maybe where I can get a cigarette too. [ She needs a whole carton by now. ] Um, yeah. Thanks.

[ She cuts the feed before bothering to give her name as well, doing her best not to freak out in public. ]
ofletters: (Default)
[personal profile] ofletters
[ CRASH. The sounds of laughter and barking can be heard before the owner is seen; in fact, he doesn't seem to know how to use the device at all, whoever he is. It clatters to the floor where nothing but the blank ceiling (well, blank, aside from all of the sigils) can be seen. Minnie the Portuguese Water Dog sniffs at the camera, blinking her warm, brown eyes at it. ]

Whas' that, doggy? [ The voice of a very young kid rings out, unrecognizable. However, anyone who checks the device ID, recognizes the dogs, or has seen the tiny features before can recognize the tiny Sam Winchester as he peers innocently into the camera. ]

Look, it's blinking! Whas' it do? [ He raps it hard against the table, then pouts when it doesn't react in a particularly interesting way. Huffing, Sam stares at it for a few seconds more before dropping it to the ground where it lies, abandoned. ]

C'mon, les' go explore! [ And he's out loose in the mansion, device forgotten. ]

( ooc; Responses must be action and will come from [personal profile] moosling )
low_key_angel: (event)
[personal profile] low_key_angel
[Who has cookies for breakfast? This guy. Okay, they'd count as breakfast if Gabriel did mundane things like sleeping. But he had places to go, brothers to bother and a general pest to make of himself. What he doesn't expect is the sudden transformation overcoming both his grace and his vessel after raiding one of the very impressive spreads the place provided.

So have an adorable little moppet, Wonderland, hanging upside down from one of the Christmas tree limbs, examining his phone curiously.]
Michael? Lucifer?

C'mon, I can totally hear you guys. Where are you?

[Heaving a sigh and with a very visible pout he jumps down, landing nimbly on his feet.] Fine. I'll just find someone else to play with.

samlicker81: (breathe me back to life)
[personal profile] samlicker81
[ how about let's not talk about that dream. that sounds like a really good idea, even if becky is pretty curious about it, if not a little scared. she knows she's in good hands, what with the winchesters around, so, you know, how about instead she just shares a little something of her own with everyone. she's been doing a lot of writing over the past few months, after all, and it's about time she posted some of it for everyone to R&R. it's a little taste of home for her and hopefully a lot of other people in wonderland; she couldn't actually bring herself to write about anyone ... in wonderland. that's sort of crossing the line into rpf and while writing about sam and dean isn't really technically fanfiction anymore, she can at least pretend it is if she sets it in some alternate version of home. ]

Title: All I Want For Christmas Is You
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13, for implied sexual themes.
Summary: How "A Very Supernatural Christmas" should have ended.

The ground outside was covered in a light dust of snow. )

[ the next part she cut into a separate entry because she couldn't decide if she actually wanted to post it or not. but, you know, wonderland will have none of that. and neither will i. so, of course, by some inexplicable wonderland magic, it posted itself. so here is the thrilling and explicit conclusion! ]


[ shortly after this very angry conversation with sam the whole fanfic has been deleted from the network and in its place is: ]



Nov. 22nd, 2014 07:44 am
onlyhomemade: (Pissed)
[personal profile] onlyhomemade
[He can't take it anymore. Something has to be said to the masses in hopes to make them more aware and to make it stop, regardless of if it'll work or not.]

ALL OF YOU NEED TO SHUT. UP. Stop thinking so damn loud or projecting your feelings all over everyone as if we're supposed to give a damn!!

Not a single one of you is worth saving.

[And he certainly can't control the way his own deep-seeded hatred is just ebbing out through him and to others. If he can read your minds then obviously it goes the other way. There's a seething need to wipe out humanity and if anyone had any doubt about his apparent change when arrived, or desire to leave his war back home? It's certainly proven now that he still very much wishes to kill all the humans in cold blood. He still blames you all for the disappearance of his father. There's a strong sense of betrayal there. He once loved you. Lived amongst you. He once protected you from his own twin and for what? Disappointment and disgust are still strong, a wound still festering and clearly Gabriel feels the only way to heal it is by mass genocide.]


Nov. 20th, 2014 09:58 am
dissemble: (Every one a rager)
[personal profile] dissemble
[Lucifer can only presume that the... difference he can sense in Wonderland is related to the cryptic post. As far as he can tell he's avoided any effects of it so far. He intends for that to continue.]

Uh oh. Someone left a door open.

[And that little girl tried so hard to warn everyone too. What a shame.

ooc: Your character can respond at any point during the week! Also, Lucifer can choose to appear as someone else to make your character think they are more insane, if you would like that, either PM this journal or plurk me @sprakles. Happy insanity, everyone!]

02 - Video

Nov. 15th, 2014 03:46 pm
markedbyfate: (shirtless; meditate)
[personal profile] markedbyfate
[ Usually, when Alex uses the video function on his device, it's up close, just his face. This time, he's propped the device up on a desk or something to record. He's in his room, wearing his usual long sleeve shirt, showing nothing but his face and hands.

He has something on his mind. ]

I know when we leave here, we don't remember anything that happens here, but I have to know.

[ Exactly what it is he has to know will wait a second, as he instead begins to take his shirt off, revealing a torso covered in strange tattoos. ]

This writing, these markings. They're all over me, and no one from my world has any idea what they say. Sometimes I can make sense of some of them, but... mostly they're just indecipherable.

I have to know, is there anyone here who can read this? It's important.

[ But he won't say why it's important, simply reach forward and turn off the device. ]
low_key_angel: (Default)
[personal profile] low_key_angel
[For a guy who's used to paying with reality bubbles, creating small pockets of reality to deal up just desserts to those who have it coming, you'd think Gabriel would be a little less startled at finding himself in one.

One second, he's shoving a DVD at Dean and telling him and his brother to get Kali and get clear and the next he's not even in the same craphole motel.

So Gabriel takes his time, wanders the halls before he finally lays claim to one and fiddles with the device he found in his pocket. Convenient.]

Well I've got to give this place props. It ain't exactly the Ritz, but then again, they don't have places that respond to thought. [Gabriel is comfortably sprawled on a bed large enough to accommodate several, balancing a heroic-sized milkshake on his chest. Somehow he can drink it while laying down and not spill a drop.] Now, while I wasn't looking forward to the ol Royal Rumble with big bro, I would like to at least get an idea of who nicked yours truly and why.

Yanno. Just because.
thepointisdolphins: (and the most terrified)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley is chuckling even as he starts his post.]

Delusional and dangerous, he says! I daresay the good Dr. Lecter believes we're all idiots. Which, to be frank, is an accurate assessment. A man named Hannibal Lecter shows up in Wonderland and somehow we all just accept it. He couldn't possibly be the Hannibal Lecter of the movies and books, could he? And yet how uncommon is it, really? In the course of my year here, I've come to realize that we, all of us, are a fiction to someone else. In some other world, our lives are just a story.

Maybe that's just too difficult for some of us to accept. Makes sense, I suppose. No one wants to go through more existential crises than is strictly necessary.

[His grin vanishes.]

But it's the truth. Hannibal Lecter is Hannibal Lecter, and that's all there is to it. He has murdered several people here. And considering who he is, I don't think I have to spell out what else he might have been doing. One of the people he killed is a friend of mine. I said I would find who did it, didn't I?

[He smirks again and ends the feed]
what_he_needs: Made by me (mack is wack)
[personal profile] what_he_needs
[He's calm, composed, as if he's practiced what he's going to say over and over before turning on his device.]

Hello, Wonderland.

[Michael clears his throat once, though he's not nervous, even if a small part of him is uncertain if this will be well received.]

I've decided to...have a get together..a party.. on the rooftop tonight.

[The archangel had decided that he needed to know more of the citizens of Wonderland, and had figured a group setting would be easier for him. Take the pressure away, and not force his social awkwardness on one individual at a time. Yes, a group would be better.

If this didn't work out, then he'd go back to what he'd been doing before. Trying to be invisible, and staying off of everyone's radar.]

There will be food, and drink. Whatever the closet gives me. It will start when the sun sets.

[He nods quickly, then ends the feed.]

[ooc: Feel free to post starters that can be left open for others to respond to as well as Michael.]
originalchump: (Expression 1.5: sad + irritated)
[personal profile] originalchump
[As the feed clicks on, Gadreel looks distinctly ... uncomfortable. Those who are sharp crayons might notice that peeking out from beneath the hoodie he's wearing are a few Enochian symbols carved into his skin, weeping fresh blood.

He is seated cross-legged in a garden, hands wringing in his lap.]

I must admit to being confused. This -- is not what I was expecting.

[What he was expecting was blissful nothingness, perhaps tinged with a brief moment of pride: he had finally done the right thing, he was sure. He looks down to the ground, then back into the feed.

He's apparently collected himself, at least a little.]

I am sure that the time for apologies has long passed, but I cannot help but feel they are warranted.

If any of those that I have wronged are here, Kevin Tran -

[His voice catches, briefly,]

Abner - I would apologize in person, if you would have me. I bear you no ill will if you would prefer me to stay away, and I will respect your wishes. I mean only to make the offer, to begin repairing what my cowardice wrought.

[It occurs to him, then, that he ought to figure out exactly what's going on -- if he can.]

Any of those of you that can offer information about this place, you would be doing me a great service by letting me know.
first_demon: ([Lilith] Altar (Seductive))
[personal profile] first_demon
[She's not exactly amused when her face appears on the screen, but she is guarding her irritation closely. It is never a good idea to let others know that their plans have had an emotional effect. This is a set back, a temporary misstep, but she can recover from it as she always does.

Her work isn't finished, not until she sees Lucifer free.]

How clever. I didn't think the angels had the capabilities to be so organized without their father's help. I thought you were well aware that he desired my role in this. After all, you are supposed to have a family reunion.

Now, simply for curiosity's sake, who was it who brought me here? Raphael? Gabriel? Certainly not one of the lower ranking soldiers, they never were that clever. Or did the Winchesters finally manage to get their hands on something effective?

[She pulls back, toying with a rose in the garden that she is inhabiting for now.]

Everything is ordained and destiny can't be shaken off so easily. Lucifer was meant to win this fight and I will help him do that.
freewill: (the doorstep of heaven shining down)
[personal profile] freewill
[After the first broadcast that involved singing appeared on his phone, Castiel had quickly decided that on this particular weekend, he would keep to himself and try to stay away from friends and strangers alike.

Like always, Wonderland has other plans.

The video panel in the wall switches on to capture Castiel in the library, where he's seated with a stack of books. There's a variety of subjects, both non-fiction and fiction. This place tends to be his fallback when he wishes to keep to himself, and in this case, he's relieved for the quiet.

But an event is an event, and it doesn't matter if he's in the library, where people are supposed to be silent. In light of everything he's heard from Sam about what the future brings, he's been more troubled than usual. He hasn't lived through it himself, but he knows for a fact that all of his siblings are ejected from Heaven, and it's because of him. Given everything that leads to, his guilt is a heavy weight on him at the moment.

He's not much for singing, generally, and yet in this moment of mourning, he isn't able to stop himself. His gaze goes skyward, to the ceiling of the library, as he breaks into song. It can't be said that he has the voice of an angel, but it could also be much, much worse.]

Cut for singing. )
ofletters: (and bury me beside you)
[personal profile] ofletters
[ There's a long stretch of silence, of a fizzling screen and no picture. Then, there is one, and it's Sam, who's been missing for exactly a week. He's less than a year older than he'd been before his disappearance, but there are a lot of noticeable differences: his hair is a little shorter, his arm in a sling. And, most importantly, his expression is a little... different. ]

Great. Should've known... well. Guess not, since we can't, but...

[ There's a dark, mirthless chuckle. Someone is having a bad, bad day. ]

Screw you, Wonderland. I'm sick of this friggin' bungee cord that keeps snapping me back to this place.

private messages below )
honesta: (pic#8135247)
[personal profile] honesta
[ Filtered from Klaus Mikaelson ]

[ Elijah hasn't used the communicator much since he arrived. He's reached out to a few people, but he's made a point to keep to himself. A few people know what he is and he's done what he could to ease their fears that one day he'll turn Wonderland into a main course. Today it's important that he address the people of Wonderland and throw caution to the wind. He doesn't want bodies to stack up. Outing his brother and his own kind isn't something he wants to do, but he won't idly stand by while Klaus cuts a bloody hole through the population of Wonderland. ]

I had hoped to avoid having this conversation. [ He appears to be seated in a big easy chair. Elijah's in his room for the time being. He looks serious. Worse than the night he arrived. ] It seems my hand is being forced though. My brother has arrived here in Wonderland. Which would be a joyous day for most, but I find that it's more of a burden than anything else. [ Niklaus is his brother and he will always love him, but won't let him take advantage of this small community. ] My brother is not someone you want to trifle with. His name is Niklaus Mikaelson. Klaus for short. I urge you to stay clear of him. Do not engage him in any fashion. He will do his best to pull you into his game, but you should do what you can to resist.

[ Out of all the siblings this place could have returned to Elijah it chose to return him Klaus. After everything his brother had done back home it was hard to just accept that perhaps he had changed somewhat in the time that seemed to separate them. ] He's incredibly powerful. Cannot be killed. Please don't do anything stupid. [ He's looking at you, Dean. ] He won't hesitate to kill you. If you find yourself near him then I urge you to call upon me. I'll do what I can to protect you.

[ You daggered him, Klaus. He's got very fond memories of you just stabbing him in the back. You may have lived through the two of them mending fences, but Elijah hasn't been so lucky. You've done nothing, but cause chaos to those around you. It's a miracle Elijah isn't telling them about compulsion or the weapon they need to kill you. ]

001; video

Sep. 14th, 2014 04:36 pm
creatingcontracts: (pic#8048444)
[personal profile] creatingcontracts
[He's been around long enough, investigating everything long enough, Kyubey finally feels like it's time to make his network début. So, despite not having any hands or opposable thumbs to speak of, he hits a few buttons with his paws and starts up a video broadcast.

Round, red eyes stare into the camera, over the network, and you through the screen. It's understandable if anyone is made uncomfortable by this sight.

Tilting his head, he begins to speak, though his mouth doesn't move.]

Everyone here must have a wish. Something they want more than anything, even something they'd be willing to trade their lives for.

[Starting off a little cryptic... And not exactly subtle.]

For many of you, I'm certain one would be to return to your own world and leave Wonderland behind. But there must be others, as well.

[Ones he can actually grant... You know, in exchange for your souls.]

I'm curious. What wish would you have granted, if given the opportunity? And just how much would you be willing to put at stake for it?
possiblymad: (Charisma)
[personal profile] possiblymad
[Look at that, he's on the network and not under the influence of an event. That's a rare sight to behold. He's no longer hiding and he has an inquiry on his mind.]

Greetings fellow unwilling... and perhaps willing inhabitants. Allow me to pose a question to any and all willing to answer. But first, I must clarify something. The definition of a lie is an intentionally deceptive statement. The intention to mislead or deceive. A falsification or a fabrication. Put simply, something untrue.

Now, many of you are aware of who I am and of what I am capable. Others may know just my name and the implication it provides. Fewer still actually recognise my face or the sound of my voice. [Yes, he's talking to you, dear. Fandral, honestly. Lovely, intelligent, but so gullible.] For those of you with that knowledge, fear not. This is in no way malicious. I have no hidden motive or deceitful purpose save for the slaying of my unyielding boredom. Truth? ...or a lie? [He smiles somewhat knowingly, but doesn't provide an answer.]

What I wish to ask is, for those of you with such self-righteous morals, is there any here that can claim not to be guilty of a lie? The answer to that is a simple 'no'. Lies take many forms, be they malevolent or innocent. Withholding the truth or altering it, both qualify. Omission of truth or using the truth to paint a different picture are both still considered deceitful.

Lies are not only used for ones own benefit. They can be used to protect others. Tell me, would you lie to save a life? To save the lives of many? I'm curious just what would be the breaking point?

[He raises an eyebrow, inviting an answer just before he ends the feed.]
humanities_greatest: (;Jᴜᴅɢɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴇʏᴇs)
[personal profile] humanities_greatest
[The feed comes on to blue eyes, tanned skin and blond hair. A hallway is passing around her and it's obvious she's walking while she's recording.]

It has come to my attention that there might be a significant concentration of supernatural creatures living among us. While having your lot running amok is dangerous, it's not as troublesome as the ideology some of you seem to hold.

Let's be frank. Mortals have no reason to expect any form of sympathy from the Devil and I don't expect that to change. Humans are weak and for reasons only God knows humanity has been cursed to suffer the waves of powerful monsters for decades. Unfortunately for you fiends, Wonderland does not respect the order of things you are accustomed to. Let me remind you; beasts, who ever brought us here thinks no more of you than they do a mortal. You have been stripped, you have been put on the same level as the humans you seek to rot. That being said, whatever animosity still lingering towards mankind should best be directed at your captors. After all, it was not a church that imprisoned you or a horde of hunters. It was Wonderland and its masters.

[She comes to a halt in front of a door with the number 160 labeled clearly upon it. Before she proceeds, she turns back to the camera.]

Demons in particular are powerful creatures, I won't deny this. Holding onto old grudges won't get anyone out of here... unless your powers have been taken from you. Is that the case? Have you been stripped of your wings, monsters?

[A gloved hand comes up to knock on the door just as the video feed cuts.]
intelligently: (SIX)
[personal profile] intelligently
Considering that it's obvious that not everyone is from the same type of place, and about half of everyone here didn't know about any kind of magic before getting here- ( It's okay, neither did she ) -it would be interesting to know exactly what there is, and what's possible in worlds. When things get brought here knowing about it first could be useful.

And before anyone asks, no- it's not going personal. I don't care whether you're part of any of the questions just what you already knew and what's possible. It's from a science perspective.

( Which she will tell you about if you actually ask because no many people care about Wonderland physics )

Where are you from?
When are you from?
Did you already know about:
    Supernatural creatures? ( e.g. nazi vampires )
    Other non-human things? ( e.g. gods )
    Resurrecting the dead?
    Reality altering?
    Alternate/pocket dimensions?
    Something 'unusual' not specified?
( Yes, half of that list is also magic related but specific can be very helpful )

So fill it out. And yes, giving examples would actually be helpful. Any questions?

onlyhomemade: (Absolutely not lying at all)
[personal profile] onlyhomemade
[The feed pops on to show the scruffy man, hair slicked back, and wearing what appears to be a long hooded leather coat over a simple zip-up black cotton top.. His brows are knitted and lips pressed together with thought as he plays around with the strange little device. He tilts his head and slowly realizes the feed is on with a soft "whoops". His expression changes into something a little less focused and a little more friendly, brows raising as he slaps on a smile. Gabriel speaks with a mild English sounding accent.]

Hello there, sorry about this, bear with me as I figure this odd contraption out. I've seen them before but never really had the chance to use one. Seems like a useful little device, but are all these little things on the screen really necessary?

[He's tapping at it loud enough with the little stylus that you can hear it.  A concerned hum.]

Well hopefully you don't mind my face for a bit, it doesn't seem to want to turn off.

Good thing I'm handsome. [And a smarmy smirk with the slight quirk of a brow, flirting a little with the camera.  Though he's quick to go back to fiddling, clearing his throat.]

So then, I may as well introduce myself.

[And lifting the device a little for a more dramatic angle as he tries to look regal and heroic, squaring his shoulders.] I am the Archangel Gabriel,

[Then relaxing a bit.] and this is clearly not where I belong, so if anyone could give me information about this world, I would be very grateful.

[Pause, pause, tap, brow furrowing, tap, then a look of 'oh look I found something'.] Ah wait, here, I -- [And the feed shuts off.]


[Gabriel can be found wandering around the Mansion and checking everything out so you can find him just about anywhere if you'd like to run into him. He may be on the roof, or sitting comfortably in a chair, further fussing with his device, or perhaps you'll see him fly by over head? Either way, the Archangel will be attempting to orient himself to his new surroundings while waiting for replies.]
ofletters: (i run and i run)
[personal profile] ofletters
[ Today, most are getting to see a side of Sam that they haven't seen before. The expression he's sporting and his general air exude the hunter slice of his identity. His eyes are sharp, narrowed, face collected and cold. This is the expression of a man on a violent mission, of a man who's been to Hell and back, of a man who cuts the heads off of monsters.

It isn't the quiet, thoughtful younger brother. Not today. ]

I'm gonna make this quick. Whoever strung up my brother isn't getting off with a slap on the wrist. Doesn't matter that people come back a few times here after they've been offed; as far as I'm concerned, that's just a push toward a permanent ending.

I've got a few hunches. If you did this, then I guess you don't know us well enough. Winchesters don't stay dead, but they do stay pretty friggin' pissed.

[ And they're glorified serial killers, which is why, right now... Sam Winchester looks decently scary. ]
dissemble: (the cry goes out)
[personal profile] dissemble
Now before I say anything, I want to remind you all not to shoot the messenger.

[Yes, Wonderland, the angel of light is still amongst you- and is making a rare video appearance on the network. Reasons for this will soon become apparent.]

Dean and I never saw eye to eye, but really-

[He pans the camera around as he speaks and...

Squeamish viewers will want to look away.

Dean Winchester is dead, and here is a graphic description of it )

Lucifer doesn't seem to mind sharing all this with the network without a warning. One part of a human is the same as another, right?

Instead of sounding pleased - as one might expect from a being who would like to end all humans - his voice sounds resigned.]
I suppose this is humanity for you.
heavensmostadorable: (awkward)
[personal profile] heavensmostadorable
Ah, pardon me.

[Is that the most polite beginning to a network broadcast or what? There's an angel on your screens, Wonderland, looking somewhat hesitant.]

I have just a few questions, if someone wouldn't mind providing the answers for me? It's just that... Well, I'm certain all of you have become aware of the current situation.

[AKA, the vast amount of puppies running around. It's kind of hard to miss. The fact that he's currently lacking all of his angel powers and that everything is dull in colour are less important. Or rather, not anything he's going to be addressing over the network.

Samandriel glances downward, still seeming to be uncertain whether he should actually proceed. Also, there are a couple of puppies bouncing up at him and sitting around his feet, begging for his attention.]

I'm simply wondering, what is it that canines eat? And how often should they be fed?

[That's right. He's going to feed the puppies. As many as he can. It would be horrible to allow them to starve, after all!]
wordvomit: AND YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE (this is my domain)
[personal profile] wordvomit
[It has now been forty-eight days, thirteen hours, twenty-two minutes and nine-point-five seconds since Ned first arrived in Wonderland. Over a single month but under two, long enough for him to conclude that the majority of the population (many of whom were very explanatory, for which he is eternally grateful) are correct and that there does not appear to be any visible exit.

Disappointed and disheartened by this revelation, Ned continues to do what he does best: make pies.

He also undertakes a small announcement, which is laughable if only because he was never an exceptional public speaker and often preferred to shrink into the background where no one would see him.

Uhhh. Hi! I'm...Ned, erm. Some of you...probably know who I am, I'm the one who bakes the pies up in the diner.

[Were there crickets in the kitchen of The Rabbit Hole Diner, they would chirp.]

...A-Anyway, all of the initial help was, ah, greatly appreciated, and I thought I'd just mention that back home, my restaurant had a delivery service. [A beat.] ...for pies. So, in the spirit of home-cooked, all-American baked goods, I'm gonna do that. Here. A delivery service for pies.

[The feed gets blurry for a second while he checks something on his communicator before setting it back down.]

I've set up an answering machine for messages if you want to leave a request. So...I'll just...get back to baking...

[Almost surreptitiously, he starts to slide out of frame before bolting back in and-]

...Aaaalthough I did have one more question, and this is for anyone, really, is it common for events to make you feel all funny? Not funny as in "ha ha," funny as in "maybe I shouldn't have eaten those questionable-looking oysters for dinner?"

Just. Curious.

likesimpossible: ([230])
[personal profile] likesimpossible
[ All things considered, things have been rather interesting recently, but now they've settled down again, and honestly, the Doctor's been feeling a bit deflated.

For one thing, he's used to having the option of going nearly anywhere in time and space, and now he can't. Oh, yes, he can go from one end of the mansion to the other, and go off to various places branching off from there, but it's starting to lose its charm a bit.

He's tried digging around in the attic for things for experiments, and he's done the same with the closet in his room. But he's been lacking inspiration, so all he's got is a bunch of junk filling up space in his room and not much to show for it.

Main point being, he's bored and just a tiny bit unhappy. So he's taking to the network to see if he can't find inspiration from somewhere or someone. ]

Hello, Wonderland.

[ He waves, but it's a hair less energetic than it might have been normally. ]

I'll keep this short, but the thing is, I've run out of things to do. Well, the things I'd usually do to keep from getting too bored.

[ He hates the very sound of that word, and just saying it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. ]

So, that's why I'm here. What do you lot do when you've got too much energy but can't think of anything to do?


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