triskeles: <user name="faoladh"> (ᴏʟᴅ ᴅιʀᴛʏ ᴅᴏɢ)
[personal profile] triskeles
[ To say that Derek doesn't really post to the network would be a half-truth. He replies to people on it, follows the entries others post to it, but just doesn't really post on it himself. He's done it all of twice in the past year, and... well, it has been a year since he got here. (For the second time, anyways, but since he remembers nothing of his apparent first time here he dismisses it without much concern.)

He's not sentimental or anything-- he's been here a year, and that's it, there's no cause for celebration-- but it's another year that he's survived. That matters, in its way. Especially considering all the things that Wonderland decides to throw at them. So far, at least, no event has decided to coincide with his arrival date.

He won't be saying that in the morning, but that's how it goes.

But the difference between Wonderland and Beacon Hills is that he's fairly certain that he doesn't want to go back.

Over the past year, I've had the conversation with a few people before, and others have posted about it, but it's interesting how a lot of us prefer this place over wherever we came from.
I don't know if it's some kind of cosmic irony that some of those people have been gone for a while now, or have gone home and come back with no memories of this place.
Personally, I'm just fine staying here - despite all the events that happen, and whatever Wonderland decides to throw at us - and have apparently been here once before all of this.
But I haven't gone back since I got here a year ago, even if people from my world have come and gone, with and without memories.

There's no pattern to it, is there? To who goes back, when they go, if they come back.
Time in Wonderland isn't exactly a straight, simple line, but at least there's some sort of timeline we can go off of with seasons, holidays.
[ Full moons. ]
Even the events, for the most part, run on a kind of schedule.
Maybe sometimes the space between one and another is spread out a bit more, but they still happen.

But people coming and leaving can happen at any time.

[ If you're looking to run into a lightly brooding werewolf while he mulls over his time in this place, it's pretty easy to find him. He's traversing much of the mansion right now, but you're likely to find him on the ninth floor or around the library. Though he's not really looking for company right now, he's certainly not going to turn people away. Derek's not in a bad mood, he's just... bemused that he prefers Wonderland over what was supposed to be his home. ]


Jul. 3rd, 2014 10:41 am
camebefore: (I see the sun coming up)
[personal profile] camebefore
Should anyone see a small piglet running about wearing a little Red Cross vest, I would like it returned to me. It appears to have fled when I was pulled away from this place. It would be helpful if the few supplies it had carried with it were still intact but it is not required.

[The young man speaking to Wonderland has a curious lack of emotion in his face and dark eyes. The reds in the iris are more pronounced than before, giving a hint to the annoyance he's experiencing. Matters being beyond his control is not something he enjoys. Unlike the other Hannibal, this one is casually dressed in a grey shirt and dark jeans.]

For those that don't know me, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter. I am a surgeon, unlike the other Lecter about. While I am not part of the clinic or those involved, I am an emergency room surgeon should someone fall out a window. Again.

Or encounter rabid crocodiles in the basement.


05 | video

Jun. 30th, 2014 08:56 am
intelligently: (001)
[personal profile] intelligently
It seems that Scott was right putting a vets here. First we get an invasion of piglets and now there are dogs everywhere.

( Although guess which one Lydia doesn't mind so much though. In the background of the video there are definitely a couple of puppies running around and-

-oh. One jumps up on Lydia and knocks her hand that the video's in. It goes wonky for a moment before she corrects it, and starts scratching the puppy's head )

And since some of you have obviously never seen a dog before- ( She's talking about you Samandriel and 'what is dog food?' ) -you should probably go and see him. Don't keep a dog if you don't know what you're doing.

( Lydia on the other hand... might be thinking about keeping some )

And Allison? How many dogs can I keep before you tell me to get my own room?

( Kidding. Maybe. She's not going to go that overboard. Maybe )
sheriffwolf: (Angry Smoke)
[personal profile] sheriffwolf

[The last thing he remembers is the cold, wet asphalt beneath his body. Pain lanced it’s way through his chest with every breath. He couldn’t feel his arm anymore. Bloody Mary had taken good care to snap his left arm in half - a fitting end considering what he’d done to Grendel by relieving him of his arm. It would grow back. Everything seemed to grow back eventually.

Except heads of course.

But all of that is gone now. The pain has miraculously disappeared. He had always healed faster than most Fables but this was new. Bigby’s eyes fly open and he’s greeted to a lush garden. He’s surrounded by green and flowers of every shape and size. The scent overwhelms him and he sneezes loudly, the petals bursting into the air. He sits up, rubbing his nose as he stares, the day a stark contrast from the wet and brutal night he has just left.

The first thing he does is reach into his chest pocket. His palm wraps around a familiar rectangular shape and he pulls out his pack of Huff and Puff brand cigarettes. He taps one out and places it between his lips before reaching into his right pants pocket. He pulls out his lighter and a strange, black rectangular device. Bigby lights his cigarette and breathes deeply, the smoke dampening the scent of the flowers around him. He turns his attention to the device, turning it over and over in his hands before the screen flickers and he’s staring at a reflection of his face. But it’s not a mirror - it’s more like a small television screen although Bigby has never seen one without an antenna before. Magic, perhaps?

There is small red letters on the upper right side that say REC. The video broadcasts a rough, deeply lined face across Wonderland.]

What the hell-? What is this? Where is Snow?

[The face frowns. He shakes the camera a few times before looks around. The world tilts as the man stands up. He takes a long drag from his cigarette before tapping it out, the ashes scattering into the wind.]

So tired of fucking games.

01 | video

May. 19th, 2014 11:08 am
choosesfate: (90)
[personal profile] choosesfate
[ Belle is in the library, which is obvious by her surroundings but also if you know her. She's been here before since arriving, but this time she hasn't left in a couple of days. There are books piled around her on the table and there are three open in front of her. Even as Belle sends out the video she's still looking down at her book. Can't stop ]

There is so much to read here. I don't think I've seen a library so big.

[ The one that Rumple had made for her was lovely - possibly nicer as it was hers, but this seemed to further expand as you moved through it ]

I could spend a lifetime here.

[ Although it could possibly be a very short lifetime if someone doesn't feed her or make her sleep. She'd fallen asleep from exhaustion before but it wasn't long ]

There are so many things that I wouldn't have known before. Apparently sneezing is quite dangerous. [ And she's looking at a second book now ] And crocodile's can't move their tongues.

[ She'd gone to the library originally to look up something useful, and to expand her knowledge. These were definitely all useful facts ]

I wish I had more time to get through everything.
irrelevance: (pic#7650425)
[personal profile] irrelevance
Now I don't want to sound pretentious when I say this, but no matter how much this camera blows, you can't deny this view. [ booms the voice of some guy who still manages to find a great angle to showcase a particularly beautiful shot of the gardens that most residents are probably already familiar with. yes, residents. he's done his research. he's tech-savvy enough for that and smart enough not to run screaming, blabbing to the first person in his vicinity. he recovers what's left of his sanity and he waits; he learns. then he appears on his own terms. ]

It damn near takes your breath away. [ so does arriving face first in the pool. ] There are only a few things in life that have that kind of power. That kind of sway over you. [ hm? he shakes his head clear of it and steers the view away from the fountain ( far, far away ), cutting the feed and switching to text without ever revealing his face. ]

so, i wanted to pose a question to you, Land of Wonder. what would you describe as a sight for sore eyes, and why? is it something that can be physically found or does it exist strictly in the imagination?

and don't worry, i know all about how curiosity killed the cat. i'm more of a dog guy. on that note, if anyone's seen either one of mine, i'd really appreciate whatever information you have. one of them is like a wrecking ball. he's big, hairy, and he leaves a huge mess. he answers to Derek, and no, you never get used to the drool. the other one's kind of small, but he never stops trying to learn the same darn trick. Scott's just so predictable. you almost have to like him and feel sorry for him at the same time.
bigkanimaoncampus: (Gonna kill you so hard)
[personal profile] bigkanimaoncampus
[ The video at first only shows one of the corridors of the mansion. Somewhere out of sight of both the camera and the mirrors within its view is Jackson. Bellowing. Alternating between "STILES!" and "MCCALL!" Several doors open and close.

Soon, he can be seen returning, reflected in the glass. He's furious. And only partially clothed. Wearing only a pair of gray sweat pants, his torso and feet are bare. His foot enters the frame, sending the device skittering. He looks down at it, slightly perplexed. But mostly angry. Picking it up, his brow creases as he inspects it, giving everyone an extreme close up of his handsome face. After a few moments, he's able to put together that the thing is already recording. ]

I don't know who thought this JOKE was even remotely funny, but it's not. So here's what you're going to do, whoever you are. You're going to return my clothes, my phone and my car keys. Then you're going to take me back to my car and get me out of this little fun house.

[ He tilted his head, almost as if he were going to crack his neck. But instead settled for a roll of his shoulders. ]

Oh, and if I find out Stiles or McCall had anything [ the word was given extreme emphasis] to do with this, you're both dead. Do you hear me?

[ The feed lingered on his unimpressed glare for a few moments longer before shutting off.]
seizurings: (Default)
[personal profile] seizurings
[Erica had experienced a lot of things in her short life, but this was completely different from anything she'd ever even thought possible. Having spent the past who knows how long chained up in a basement -she's a little worse for wear, to put it lightly. She'd toyed with attempting to track down Boyd, hoping they'd just been separated but quickly decided it was a waste of time - too much space to cover alone.

Looking at the communicator in her hand, she figured posting a video would be a faster and more efficient way to get answers and hopefully find him, and possibly others. She looks around her strange surroundings, finding a small washroom to clean up in quickly before recording. Feeling slightly better, she starts the feed. Erica gives a tight smile before speaking, silently reminding herself to be careful how much information she gives about her being a werewolf - not knowing who this was going out to.]

Look. I don’t really know what the hell is going on so I’ll try and keep this short and sweet. Boyd, if you’re here – please let me know you’re okay. If anyone seeing this knows of anyone else from Beacon Hills – tell them Erica’s here. [It's a long shot, but she figures it's worth a try.

She takes a moment, shutting her eyes. The stress and exhaustion hitting her as the last of the adrenaline wears off, her ordeal having ended not too long ago. She gives a sharp exhale, flipping her long, blonde hair over her shoulder.]

I’m - [She starts to say she’s okay, but there’s really no point in lying. She’s nowhere near it, still feeling phantom currents of electricity washing over her if she holds too still.] I just really need to find my [PACK] friends. I need to know they’re okay, that the Argents didn't get them too. Isaac or Derek, if you're here, I...

[Her words die off, not wanting to get her hopes up. She needed her pack. She needed Boyd to be okay. She needed a familiar face. She gives a small, sad laugh thinking about how much she could use a Batman right now. She takes a steadying breath, nothing else coming to mind on what to say. She reaches out to end feed, but stops herself, her face contorting slightly as a thought occurs to her. She decides to voice it, just in case, knowing first hand what lengths people will go to for a laugh.]

I just want to add that if this is someone’s version of an elaborately sick joke, it’s not funny. I will find you and I will kill you. It won’t be pretty and it won’t be slow - no one messes with me without there being consequences. [Not anymore.]
hypercompetent: <user name="vertigo" site=""> (misery loved me)
[personal profile] hypercompetent
[ A little while after that disaster of a video Stiles made in his body, Isaac is on the network, in Stiles' body. Said body is shirtless and literally every mole on his pale awkward frame is circled in red permanent marker. Also if you happen to be the body's owner, or body's boyfriend the manscaping Isaac has done is rather obvious.

With surprising ease he falls into the role of Stiles Stilinski.

Have you guys ever noticed how weird looking I really am? Seriously, look at all these moles.

[ He frowns before scratching the back of his neck. Okay, and really this all comes off like Isaac making fun of Stiles instead of actually being stiles... ]

No wonder I'm a virgin. No one really wants to date the weird twitchy dude that's benched every lacrosse game ever. I get it. So -- I figured I'd take a hint from Isaac and get rid of my stuff and start over fresh. Comic books included. I've got way too much plaid anyway.

[ Lips are pressed into a thin line, very reminiscent of a face Isaac would pull before the feed clicks off. Oh, it's on. ]
algidity: ((-) I Was Cold)
[personal profile] algidity
[ everything is completely fine when this video post comes on. don't even be remotely alarmed.

the feed flickers and shows one isaac lahey, sitting in front of the camera with his hands folded together. he's in his room, sitting by a dresser. ]

Hello, Wonderland. My name's Isaac Lahey--

[ he reaches over, and opens a drawer.

it's legitimately full of scarves. ]

--and I have a problem.

[ he tries to keep a very, very serious face, and in that moment, it's mostly obvious that this is not exactly isaac. in fact, someone decided going for a "sorry we're dumb" lunch with stiles at the new diner would be a great idea.

bodyswapped stiles is on the case to torment isaac for however long they're stuck like this--gotta make the most of being stuck in someone else's body, right? the serious face shifts into a grin for a second, and he adds--]

So, if anybody's looking for some fashion accsesories, I've got an unholy amount to throw away. Or burn. Maybe I'll burn them. I'm working on this ten step path to healthiness and kicking my scarf addiction, and Wonderland, I'm looking forward to your support for the foreseeable future.

[ he winks, and then shuts the feed. GAME ON, LAHEY ]

2 ☽ text

Mar. 17th, 2014 12:19 pm
resent: (Default)
[personal profile] resent
[ she's been missing for a month. cora doesn't know it for certain, but she can sense something is different about wonderland. it's the smell, the way the leaves crunched differently beneath her feet when she walked out of the woods earlier that day. she can't quite put her finger on what's different, but she knows that the world she had left behind earlier that morning (five weeks ago) has somehow shifted on its axis. ]

[ however, despite her suspicions, cora's not going to bother with the pleasantries. nor is she going to bother to ask. she doesn't do network posts — doesn't see the purpose in them — but she'd been out for a run in the woods. she'd gone out in hopes of pushing herself out of her negative headspace, but has only seemed to dive further in it. ]

Throw a dog a bone.

Anyone know any good jokes? Could use a couple. My brother doesn't smile much and it'd be nice to see him :) for once.

Or :D if I'm lucky.

[ ha ha. something is off and perhaps it's because derek hale has learnt how to smile. ]

α. voice

Feb. 17th, 2014 01:17 pm
triskeles: <user name="faoladh"> (ʜє ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғαʟʟ αɴᴅ sʜє ᴄαɴ ᴡєєᴘ)
[personal profile] triskeles
[ Derek doesn't do the network. He just doesn't. Replying to others is just as rare as his own posts are, but when he comes to and it takes him a long time to realize where the hell he is, what happened, he's a little more inclined to speak up.

Well, when the panic subsides and he can rein himself in again.

He sees Angel's post. Sees all the others on the network. But there's no sign whatsoever that Harry, or Tom, or whoever is responsible for the deaths in the mansion, has been found. And that sets him into motion, slowly navigating his way through the maze Wonderland has seen fit to dump him in.

Just another day down the rabbit hole.

How many people have been attacked so far? [ Being dead for two days is enough to throw anyone out of the loop. ] Was it only-- [ There's a pause as he works his jaw. ]

Was it only Tom or Harry or whoever attacking people? [ Not Remus, not another wolf. He has to be sure. ] And is there an actual attempt going to find him beyond the call for a witch hunt?

private cut )

03 | text

Feb. 6th, 2014 07:09 pm
intelligently: (41)
[personal profile] intelligently
Did anything weird happen to anyone during the past few days?

[ It's coming as a text because Lydia can't face asking this. Can't trust herself to actually voice it without anything being leaked out. She doesn't want anyone to know that she's actually talking about her. Really Lydia would try to ignore this, to put it aside but Allison died, and its not just been a one time occurrence. It scares her ]

Not the aging but something else. Anything else.

[ And now she wonders how to word it without explicitly wording it ]

Blacking out for example. Anything.

[ That was possibly too specific but she has to know. Is she just crazy? ]

( private text. stiles stilinski )
    What's happening to me?
( private text. derek hale )
    For finding me.
( private text. allison argent )
    I'm sorry.
    You shouldn't have died.
    I shouldn't have been out there.
( private text. allisom argent. two minutes later )
    I don't know why I was.
hypercompetent: <user name="vertigo" site=""> (just know that it's bigger)
[personal profile] hypercompetent
[ The face that pops up on the screen is kind of haggard, but still recognizable--it's Stiles, turning his feed on in what seems like mid motion. He skids around a corner of the mansion, recognizable as near the library, and stops for a second, panting, and mutters into the feed, finally addressing it. ] I am never watching anything remotely terrifying again, because somehow, someway, it will end up ruining my life.

These things're like every nerd's wet dream and nightmare at the same time, and I think they've only really got one way of getting killed. I mean, if they look at anything when its eyes are closed, they go full dementor and you're doomed to get old-age-ified into dust.So if they look at each other...

[ There was an actual point to this post though, and that was it. Stiles looks from left to right for a second, then carefully aims his camera at the ground, showing the skirt of one angel just around the corner from where he's standing, then around the other corner, where another one is nearby. ]

So, I'm either going to die or this is going to be freakin' brilliant.

[ he mutters "ohhhh my god I am definitely going to die" under his breath, realizes the video is still on, and clicks it off. No time to lose. ♥ ]

{ replies will most likely come from [personal profile] deputies, and action is totally cool too. ♥ }
ofletters: (she sits him down)
[personal profile] ofletters
[ Like all of the other residents of Wonderland, Sam has noticed the Christmas decorations that have sprung up over the past few days. He's looked around at the garlands, the tree in the hall, the cracks all around with the writhing vines underneath. The latter, he especially made a point of investigating, squinting very intently at the grey, and then at the slits in the air. It's all very concerning to someone who not only specializes in the weird and typically dangerous, but also to someone whose brother has gone missing. So, here he is, on the network, with a calm, but wary expression. ]

... As much as I want to wish everyone happy holidays, I don't think we can sit back and relax on this one. People're missing, and I have a few names, but if you're missing someone, ring in here and let me know so we can get a complete list. And... be careful what you touch around here. Going on experience, I'd say that whatever the mansion is doing is only going to get bigger. And probably more dangerous.

[ There's a pause. ]

I think they'll be back. Their stuff's still here... It's only a matter of time before--

[ And he stops short, shifting to genuine confusion. Surprise. And then: ]

And... watch out for the, uh. Mistletoe.
lightgunhustler: (115)
[personal profile] lightgunhustler
[The mansion decorating itself for Christmas should have been expected, really. There isn't much about Wonderland that surprises Jo by now, if only because she's learned that anything can happen. General expectations aside, the place has been overdue for something, and as events go, Christmas decorations are pretty damn tame. Definitely better than zombies.

If it were just decorations, she wouldn't be bothered. She might be anxious and waiting for the other shoe to drop for a day or two, but she's been starting to grow confident -- perhaps foolishly so -- that most things that Wonderland will throw at them are largely up front about being terrible if that happens to be the flavor of the week.

It's the fact that people seem to be missing that has her worried. Waking up to an empty bed in the middle of the night hadn't been strange on its own, but Tom's hoodie and sling being left behind was. When morning rolled around and there was still no sign of him, she'd tried to get in touch with Dean. No luck. Then she'd tried James. Same story. By the middle of the day, she's tried messaging the aforementioned parties several times with no response and found no sign of them anywhere they're supposed to be. She's sent out a few other messages as well, but not all of them have turned out to be duds.

Seems like reason enough to go out and become a one-woman search party, but it's worth addressing the network with, too.]

I'm missing a few people. Tom Hanniger, Dean Winchester, and James Potter.

[She's beginning to think it's safe to assume there might be others missing, too. Might as well ask.]

If anyone has seen them-- hell, if you guys are out there, let me know right away. If anyone else is missing someone, give me their names. I'm going to go look. They've been gone long enough that I think it's time to worry.

[She can only measure the time by Tom's disappearance, but he's been gone since-- well, about the time the sound of the mansion decorating itself woke her up just after midnight.]

Feel free to get in touch with me if you've noticed anything else strange beyond what the mansion has done to itself. If there's anything out of place, I'd like to know.

Private Text to Ellen Harvelle & Sam Winchester; mid-morning. )

Private Text to Allison Argent, noon. )

[Any resistance members will be able to find Jo out in the hideout around noon and for about an hour afterwards. After that, there will be no standing still. She'll dedicate the rest of her day to searching the mansion and grounds as a whole, often backtracking and retracing her steps or double-checking certain areas. By late night, she can be found in the bar, but this time she won't be serving anyone: instead, she'll be seated on a stool at the far end, looking frustrated as she makes her way through her second beer while obsessively checking her phone for messages.]


Dec. 6th, 2013 01:27 pm
tom_hanniger: (explain)
[personal profile] tom_hanniger

[Hi Wonderland, him again. Tom is sitting back a few feet leaning into the camera. It's a tight frame but you can see the strap of his sling still present over his left shoulder, right arm securely nestled in it's little hammock. Contrary to the oddly cheery, community building posts he seems to be known for, this is about information. Someone just got a little clued in and he wants to know more. And since everyone talks over these god damn things it's the best place to start. No beating around the bush.]

Who has been in Wonderland the longest? I mean, who knows the most about it, who are the experts?

I'd like to ask you a few things.

[He hesitates for a moment, clenching his jaw and looks as though he's about to speak again but decides to leave it save for a short nod and a-]

hypercompetent: <user name="easycompany"> (◘ it's not to be taken lightly)
[personal profile] hypercompetent
Man, okay, when I made a zombie contingency plan back in Beacon Hills? I was really not expecting it to actually happen! [ Hello wonderland! Long time no see. Well, not really, but someone's been keeping to himself lately. Stiles appears on the video feed in what looks like one of the prison cells, armed with--is that a baseball bat? That is definitely a baseball bat. He’s not alone, either, and he pans the camera out a little to show Allison Argent sitting with him, a little closer to the door. ]

I'm gonna try to lay it down here as quick as I can, alright? Zombie apocalypse, three rules. [ Three fingers go up. ] I’m not saying I’m an expert or anything but, dude, if you want someone who’s like a walking bestiary? Not me. Walking zombie movie nerd? I so got you.

Stiles, I don’t think-

[ There's a hand wave off screen--he's so got this! ] Right, so, like I was saying, three rules. One, double tap. Like, make sure something's really dead before you go around touching it. In fact, they're freakin' infection riddled corpses, so, better yet, don't touch them at all. And if you have to use something to scatter their brains everywhere, go for a knife or a club or, as I've been reliably informed in past situations, a metal bat. Not a wooden one. Those shatter.

Or, you know, if you don’t have the choice-

[ Not that he would know that or anything. TRUCKING ON. ] But like, guns and shit take more time to reload, and then if you run out of ammo you're boned. Unless you’re Allison, because she could probably shoot out a zombie’s eye from a moving truck, Kate Bishop style. [ And throwing a grin at her, yep.

to which she is kind of just rolling her eyes. not that the video feed can see, of course, but she is. ]

Two, uh, don't stop moving if you get the chance--I mean, anything's safe, yeah, but it's not safe forever. It's ten times easier for the Night of the Living Dead to go all gungho in your body parts if you're making a camp where you sit around and sing kumbaya every now and then.

And three, you remember all those like really horrible ironic shirts about duct tape? It literally does fix anything, just--call me a knight in shining armor. [ He flashes a little bit of a grin to the screen and offers his arms, covered in silver tape up to just before his elbows. ] It's hard to get through duct tape with a knife, and it's not gonna be a perfect fix, but it might buy you some time. And I mean, it's kind of awkward and sticky at first? But you get used to it.

[ There's a two second pause, and he makes a face. ] I definitely didn't think I was going to actually have to go to the frickin' duct tape armor. When this event is over and I rip off all my arm hair it better be worth it.

[ There are a lot more rules than that, actually--things like, if your friend gets bitten you have to be ready to kill them--but Stiles doesn't think he can say that out loud, let alone instruct other people to do it, so he just tries for a lopsided grin and a voice that sounds like his dad's. ] Stick together, and hey, man, when this is over, we can all brag we survived the zombie apocalypse. Jussay--hey!

[ and it’s right then that the video feed gets ripped from stiles’ hands. there’s a lot of movement, and some muffled arguing, and when the feed does finally come to it looks like allison is arguing with someone (stiles) off-screen ]

No, Stiles, seriously- [ right, camera feed, allison gives an awkward smile to the video, a quick glance to stiles offscreen, and then she’s back. ] Not to, you know, discredit what Stiles said or anything-

[ but she is. kinda. just a little. ]

Because it was totally fine! [ He pipes up from the background, but more put out than angry. ]

Find something that doesn’t need ammo- like he was talking about the baseball bat. Honestly, a pipe or a stick that’s thick enough that it won’t break. Doesn’t have to be a bat. [ have another look, stiles. (To which she immediately receives one in return, because he and this bat have been through some trusty times that almost worked together, thank you very much!) ] Don’t let them bite you, and don’t ingest any kind of liquid from them. Cover as much of yourself as you can. I’m not sure exactly how these zombies- [ stiles your snicker isn’t appreciated thank you ] work, but whatever happens don’t let them bite you. Long sleeves, duct tape, whatever. Also- [ what allison holds up is a long-bow, and she carries it like she knows what she’s doing. she gives a look to the camera like yes okay I carry a bow around with me what are you going to do about it before she sets it done. ] Anything long-range will help, a lot. Stay as far away from them as you can but don’t be afraid to take them out. Go for the head, or the neck, and keep going.

If you need help, call out. The jail’s not that big and some of us-
[ some, being a key word here ] -will be making rounds, just trying to take out as many of these things as we can. If you need help, just ping me or- [ okay so she’s not as happy about saying this but she goes with it anyway ] Stiles. Either way, we should be able to come help.

[ Stiles nods at her, then at the feed, waving two fingers at it, tone a little sarcastic. ] So basically, guys, just try not to act like your typical white-male-jock-horror-movie-protag, and you'll be ace. Keep your heads up. [ And with that, he cuts the feed. ]

private texts )
righteously: ([Neutral] Oh SNAP)
[personal profile] righteously

[It's bright and early Thanksgiving morning that Dean appears on screen. Well, maybe not bright- he's sending this out at the sharp point of six in the morning, and the sun's not quite up yet. He doesn't sleep much, especially not when he's got stuff to do, and he's been thinking about this ever since the leaves started changing.

The plan was to do most of the work on his own, but standing there in the kitchen, flour coating most of the surfaces, flour sticking to his cheek, flour everywhere... in retrospect, maybe he could use a little help.

So he sends out a broadcast, figuring people'll stumble on it whenever they wake up during the day, and it'll kill two birds with one stone. He can wrangle help from the people that are willing, and it'll give a few hours notice to anyone that decides to just partake in the eating part.

Either way, his tight smile looks distinctly harried when he starts talking.]


[Sort of a generic, broad greeting.]

I'm, uh- not really sure how much most of you guys know about America- or... you know, Earth, but whatever. The point is, we've got this holiday in America called Thanksgiving, and it's pretty much the best holiday that exists anywhere ever.

[Oh, Dean... You don't have to lie to the nice people.]

There's a long drawn-out crappy historical story about Native Americans and Pilgrims, but since like half of you don't even know what those things are, I'm just gonna cut to the chase. Point is, every year on the last Thursday of November, families all get together and eat a crapload of food until they feel like they're gonna pass out, and talk about stuff they're grateful for. But mostly, it's all about the food and the putting up with one another. I figure, well, we're all kinda stuck here, right? That's about as close to family as some of us're ever gonna get, and- yeah, some of you are family to me. But even if you're not, I thought we ought to have a real Thanksgiving. Kinda put all the crap that's been going on behind us for a day while we stuff our faces with something that isn't... you know, each other.

[He shrugs a little. Zombies, man. Like it or not, somebody tried to eat somebody that last event.]

So, I figure we'll do that up in the bar around six. In the meantime... If anyone doesn't suck in the kitchen, I could... seriously use a hand. Or like twelve hands. I got like eight turkeys that ain't gonna stuff themselves, if I have to peel one more potato I'll shoot myself, and I'm pretty sure the oven just called me a name.

[He's not joking. It rhymed with rooshrag. He scowls at it, and it... Doesn't do anything. Because it's an inanimate object. In his defense, it does look particularly menacing about not being sentient. It's a sure sign that if he's left alone in that kitchen he's going to lose his mind and bake himself into 2 and 20 blackbird pies.

With that said, he cuts the feed.]


[Later that night, the bar is decked out in holiday themed decor. There are paper hand turkey strings and decorative leaves, tables are pushed together into long, room-spanning lines and covered with nice white table clothes. There's enough food to feed a small army and then some, and it ranges from the traditional things (turkey, mashed potatoes, corn) to... less commonly found items (white rice, cucumber sandwiches, bowls of gummy bears). In typical bar fashion, the beer is bottomless and abundant.

The whole place looks damn nice, which is good because Dean seems to be a hair away from having some kind of damn breakdown and stabbing someone with a two-pronged fork. People can serve themselves and fight for elbow room, but as far as the host is concerned, his mission is accomplished and the only thing he needs in his life is a giant flagon of beer and a viking-sized turkey leg.]


[This broadcast is post-dated 1 week, and officially going to take place on the holiday itself. To make sure everyone has time to tag at their leisure around their holiday plans, I just wanted to get it up in advance, so feel free to take your time / prioritize the event / postpone until after the holiday / whatever your jam is!

This is a mingle log! Please feel free to make use of the sub-threads, tag around, multi-person threads promote holiday togetherness, all that good stuff! The invitation is nice and broad, so everyone is welcome! Happy holidays! C:]
infelix: (Default)
[personal profile] infelix
[For a long moment, Remus just sits there at his desk, hands clasped on the table in front of him, eyes cast down and to the side as the weight of what he has to do sinks in ever further. This isn't something he ever foresaw doing, but there are things he knows now that make it impossible for him to continue, without fear and guilt the likes of which he is sick of carrying.]

I'm sorry, please bare with me. This... this is a difficult matter for me to breach.

[He runs his hand through his hair, rubs the back of his neck and finally clears his throat, sitting up a little more. He's always sort of hunched these days.]

Recently... many of us were not ourselves, however much we may have appeared to be.We were taken over, some of us overcome, by forces not of our own control or will, and these... others... they were able to see and use some of our own memories and knowledge. 

I need you to understand, before I do this, that it is that which I fear may bring harm to others... more than the information I wish to share. You do not need to fear me, or have reason to do so, though it will not be.... unreasonable... that you may. But you must know I take every precaution... every care that I can to insure I harm no one. That I am a threat to no one, in so far as I can control the circumstances. And that I am working on insuring this, further.

But if something like this happens again, and that control is stripped of me. All I can do to protect you, is to make sure you are prepared for what you may face.

[His hands are clasped again, clenching and unclenching. He worries his lip with his teeth an takes a breath. This is a confession he does not take lightly and has so rarely shared with any one that it feels as if he is ripping open his chest to expose his heart for a killing blow. But the people here have enough problems without this extra danger going unknown. This place is too unpredictable to keep his secret locked where it could cost someone their life.]

I am a werewolf.

[No four words have ever been so freeing. So damning. And he is prepared to face the fall out that will come with his confession.]

resent: (Default)
[personal profile] resent
[ cora wakes up in the maze. her communicator sits a few feet away from her. she spends an hour or two trying to navigate her way out of it, stubborn enough to refuse clicking on said communicator and asking for help. but she seems to only be walking in circles. dead end after dead end — and didn't she just see that hedge ten minutes ago? — and while she's not one to give up and toss in the towel, she's feeling like there's no end in sight if she keeps this up. ]

[ she turns her communicator on and after some fiddling, flicks it to video. she shows the area she's in, which pretty much looks the same as it did a few seconds ago. hedge, hedge, and more hedge. ] Anyone got a guide for getting out of this maze on hand? I'm stuck.

[ the camera passes over her (her eyes are narrowed, her hair is a little messy, but there's no open wounds on her forehead, that's the important thing) as she continues to show her surroundings. it's a pointless thing to do, but, alas, it's the only thing she can think to do. cora sighs. she's alone and she doesn't like it one bit. ]

Not really sure about the shortcuts at the moment. [ lifting her shoulders, she admits a quiet defeat, and begins to walk to the left. it's only a few beats before she stumbles ] — Crap — [ and her head's slightly pounding from how hot she feels and from each step she takes resonating in her skull, before she cuts it off, perhaps waiting for a reply back. ]

[ but she'll continue to walk around, for that is what hales do: be stupid. ]

( OOC: grabbing cora's reserved for the teen wolf idiots, but come engage in some deadpan conversation with her / give her directions. )
hypercompetent: <user name="easycompany"> (☆ throw you off)
[personal profile] hypercompetent
[ The thing about being a superhero is that, while it's incredibly rewarding emotionally, emotional fulfillment definitely doesn't pay the bills. And when you're a couple of teenage superheroes trying not to die, save millions of lives, and get the girl (even if it's only partially successful), it's easy to forget about when the electrical bill is due.

But Stiles "The Spark" Stilinski is a planner, and since he can't just believe money into existence (believe him, he has, in fact, tried), he's got a better idea for how to get new cases. ]

No one said it had to be subtle. )
hypercompetent: <user name="melocoton"> (soon as we hit the hospital)
[personal profile] hypercompetent
[ As someone with a policeman--not just a policeman, but a sheriff--father, Stiles Stilinski has gotten very good at two things. One, (1), is learning how to look at evidence and make connections, because he's his father's son and the two of them have solved cases together before, much to his dad's chagrin. Two?

Two is sneaking out after "curfew".

So it's after ten pm that Stiles slipped out of the room he'd more or less been barricaded in with the rest of the people from Beacon Hills. It's a little more difficult than usual, considering he's currently in a room with three werewolves, but Stiles does the whole mannekin under the covers trick (thanks Ferris Bueller), and slips out into the hallway late at night. It's probably a little suspicious and definitely exactly what he's not supposed to be doing, but the teenager makes his way towards the cafeteria, and stops at the edge of the crime scene. The amount of blood makes his stomach do a flip, and Stiles turns his head down to look away, briefly considering turning around and going right back to bed, because nope, but a part of him feels like he's sort of duty bound to do this. It's what his dad would be doing if he was here, and if he has the means for it, he needs to act on it. Besides, he's curious, damn it, and curiosity plus law-related-guilt equals one super high school level sidekick step forward, on socked feet, and it's when he takes out his device to take notes that he accidentally clicks on the text feed. It was clearly meant to be private notes.]

- creepy high school replacement for the diner
- m.o., convenience. unsub was looking for someone to kill, wrong place, wrong time.
- unsub male, removal of skin/muscle like clinical [ew] despite crap weapon
- remains disposed of in the trash can (already found by someone)
-call scott/derek/anyone to check them but i think i know what's going to be missing already
-possible case of lecter-ing
- find someone in this damn place who knows how to dust for fingerprints

[ He's not the first person to go over the room, but that doesn't mean Stiles doesn't trust the judgement of the people who've already looked--he's just being careful. His dad always said that it was important to get fresh eyes on crime scenes, which is why half the time he (begrudgingly) let Stiles look over cases with him. So the nosy teenager is currently scouring the cafeteria top to bottom for evidence, carefully avoiding bloodied footprints, and taking pictures of everything he can with his device. He's trying not to make a lot of noise, but seeing as how it's Stiles, and he's sort of talking to himself as it goes, it mostly just makes it sound like there's someone bustling around in a room where a murder took place.

Watch out, he's easily startled. (And also a sitting duck.)

{{ feel free to run into him skulking around in the hallways, or in the room! c: text/video/voice/action, whatever whatever. ♥ }} ]
triskeles: (ᴏʟᴅ ʜєαᴅsᴛᴏɴєs)
[personal profile] triskeles
[ If there is one thing that Derek doesn't like, it's the concept of a network like this. Back home, he hated the idea of Facebook and other social sites, because it meant others would be able to track what he was doing. Besides, what was the point of the damn thing when all you had to do was pick up the phone or go and see them in person?

He didn't have problems with technology, just with social networking.

Still, he winds up utilizing the network that's at his disposal now, sounding intensely disgruntled and... wet, actually. There's a distinct sloshing sound like wet clothes, and faint dripping as he tries to shake himself out.

Hilarious. I really appreciate getting dumped into yet another pool without my consent. [ For as drenched as he is, his tone is dry as a desert right now. There's a moment where his words (at least I wasn't paralyzed this time) are muffled-- his hand passing over his face, swiping water away-- before he exhales with annoyance. ]

... Scott? Stiles? [ A pause. ] Peter?

Where the hell...

[ He's going to stay calm, and he's going to shake himself off and get away from the pool before some scaled monster winds up coming along and keeping in it for two hours. He's not particularly interested in repeat performances, especially since this pool isn't one that he knows. ]

An explanation would be nice.
algidity: ((/) Out Of It)
[personal profile] algidity
[ Isaac is lost. That isn't a figure of speech, well, okay, he's lost both figuratively and literally but he's a little too dazed to be bothered by it. Pale bare feet take a few steps, the grass not seeming to bother him at all. The device he's found is gripped loosely in his hands and he stares at it, a bit slow to the intake it seems. Pupils blown wide, leaving only slivers of ice blue to circle them. This is wrong, he can tell that much, even if he does feel... Strange. The staring continues before he wets his lips, brings his gaze away from the device, and speaks. ]

Boyd? [ He says instead of 'Where am I?' Were he in his right of mind, he probably would ask that first. Boyd was there with him a moment ago, he's sure of it... But he's not -- there is wolfsbane running through his veins, messing up his perception, making his brain feel as heavy as lead and feel wrong... Not that he's really aware enough to tell. To him, it's normal right now. This is normal. This is life and it's not getting any better, only more confusing. His blue gaze traverses his surroundings, a maze? ]

What happened to the Motel?

[ He turns his attention to the device again, questioningly, as if it holds some answer. Then he calls for the first person that comes to his mind. ] Scott? [ Feet start moving again, taking him even further into the unknown. He's still trying to make sense of what has happened. He seems to be cognizant enough to know there is someone else listening to him on the other end of the device... Or perhaps he just isn't able to filter his thoughts right now. It doesn't occur to the werewolf that he probably should not be wondering around when he has no idea where he is... ]

...Where am I?

[ If you do happen to try to find him, he's probably just going to wonder off, but good luck. ]
exercise: (pic#6479489)
[personal profile] exercise
[ Hello world, we all know you've missed Scott - don't worry, he's missed you too. Sort of.

At least he has a shirt on this time.

Uh --

[ He's not so blandly ignorant to claim he hasn't missed anything - not only does he not know how long he's been gone for, but he can also smell the sort of frustrated annoyance in the air, expelling off of... well, everyone. It's not very reassuring, definitely not putting his heart at ease for second about the well beings of his friends, and he shuffles a bit on the screen, leaning back and forth like this is the most uncomfortable thing he has to do. ]

... hi, Wonderland. [ nailed it. He offers a wave, goofy grin and all. Trying to be cool, even though he's pretty sure last time he was here, his mirror was getting cut in half, and he was clinging on Allison. Which means that if everyone's still around, they've probably been a little bit worried - or Scott thinks so, at least. Not the best position to be in. ] This is a little awkward. Um...

How is everyone?

[ can you feel him sparkling through the feed ]

I mean - is everyone okay? It doesn't take a genius to know something is off and... [ This is your stunning leader, Wonderland. Yeah he's trailing off, running a hand through his hair, eyes saying 'I've got nothing else' before he goes to fiddle around with the device.

and try to make it private, but it doesn't work. This was meant for wolfpack oops

If you guys are still here, I'll be up in a second. 

[ click! ]
driven: (✗ ↣ just great)
[personal profile] driven
[ allison's looking off-screen when her journal eventually starts up the feed, and it's another moment or two before she notices. when she does, it's with a jump. only a slight one, before she's giving the camera was looks like a very thin smile and tucking a bit of her hair behind her ear. she's been exploring the area around her for almost fifteen minutes now, and she's tired. tired, annoyed, and getting kind of frustrated, but she'll give in. say uncle. that's what this journal is for, right? ]

Listen, I'm not sure if this is supposed to be some kind of joke; but if it is, it's not really funny.

[ she looks almost apologetic. almost, except for the fact she's really not sure where she is and would really like answers. allison's got theories of what's going on, sure, but none of them make a whole lot of sense, especially with everything going on at home, but what other option is there? unless she's been kidnapped, but why would the twins drop her here? why not kill her? ]

So, okay, whoever planned this - you had your laugh. Can I go home now? [ not like she's been trying to do just that since she woke up or anything, but all she can see around her are walls of green and no matter which way she turns, all she can find are more walls. ] Or at least out of this maze? [ her eyes look up over her, and then over her shoulder, where the camera can probably see tall hedges. someone woke up the maze, in her pjays. best day or best day?

she bites the corner of her lip for a second, like she's trying to decide if she wants to say what she says next or not. ]


[ and cut to black. ]

004 ; video

Jul. 8th, 2013 06:10 pm
teamug: (I don't know where I am)
[personal profile] teamug
[Clara's not looking all that great in the moment. A bit bumped and bruised, her hair's an awful mess, and it's painfully obvious she's recently been crying. She looks a bit lost and bewildered, and when she opens her mouth to speak she seems to second guess herself and clamps her jaw shut.]

I don't know where I am.

[She finally admits, softly, and takes a moment to look around her from her spot on the ground. Memories of this place come flooding back to her, and she realizes pretty quickly where she is. She's got that going for her, at least.]

The maze, most likely. Think that'd be just my luck. [A pause, and she tries smiling. It falls flat.] The impossible girl, lost again.

[She isn't sure what else to say other than that, she figures someone out there that knows her ought to still be here and see this. She doesn't ask for help, despite needing it, and just decides to abruptly end the feed there.]
[personal profile] appreciating
Wonderland, right.

[ Yes, she is doubting every moment of this. It can't be unusual for people to spend the early days in denial, she's sure, and Alana is definitely in denial. She's practical, scientific, and there's no room in that world view to allow for magically appearing in 'Wonderland'.

Still, dream or hallucination it seems to be long term, so she's making the best of a bad situation. Friendly is good, right? Friendly is playing along with whatever this is? Friendly is what she's going for anyway, so with an only slightly forced smile she continues.
] I've read the pamphlet - very helpful, by the way, kudos to whoever conjured that one up. Anyway, I've read the pamphlet, I've...wandered around this place, but I'm still confused on a few points. Bear with me, it's my first time in...a place like this.

[ She laughs a little, obviously confused expression furrowing her brows, but don't worry, she's not done. ] I won't take up too much of everyone's time though. if you could just direct me to whoever you consider to be authority figures around here, I'll be on my way. Thanks?

[ And on that incredibly hesitant note, she cuts her feed. ]
ahousedivided: I'm a psychic. (Default)
[personal profile] ahousedivided
[ All you can see is a grinning face. Already you may feel the dread. If you've seen a calendar you already know what this means and, if you're smart, you've put in the ear plugs already because shit's about to get loud. ]




[ This isn't even text. The flickers of red white and blue are audible. It rings with freedom and inspires a certain kind of joy, like the kind that erupted when it was announced that Arrested Development was being brought back.

America steps back to reveal glory.

He's outside on the grounds. Everything that can possibly be associated with the 4th of July is there: burgers, hot dogs, apple pie, soda, ice cream, all sorts of glorious products and brands that aren't even around in the 1860s. Does that matter? Of course not. Today is a day when sense isn't even relevant.

The most indestructible car in existence has its bed full of fireworks, some that are probably illegal in most states. There's two cakes, one frosted like the Union flag and the other the Confederate, and both have sparklers stuck in them.

But most impressive is the absurd amount of booze. Seriously it's almost incomprehensible. It seems to stretch as far as the infinite fences and if you care to look out from a top floor or the roof, it's in the shape of the continental US. You should be terrified that he is setting off explosives this close to this much flammable liquid.

America lifts his arms as though to say behold my domain.

It's my birthday and everyone's invited! Even the Brits. Especially the Brits. I want ya to see how happy I am bein' independent.

Fireworks will happen soon as it's dark enough!

[ And if he's drunk enough he may or may not blow his hand off. He's already getting started on that btw. Join in the festivities, mingle, threadjack, do whatever you like DO WHATEVER YOU FUCKING LIKE TODAY IS A DAY OF FREEDOM. AMERICA WILL BE RIDING HIS DAMN DINOSAUR WAVING AN AMERICAN FLAG AS SOON AS THE FIREWORKS START YEAHHHHHHHHHH FOURTH OF JULY. ]


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