cumcrapula: (drunk and ranty)
[personal profile] cumcrapula
[ Haymitch hasn't posted to the network once in all his time here. He's answered other people on rare occasion, but overall he hasn't trusted the thing.

He's been mulling things over lately, though, and he's come up questioning even himself and his own perceptions of Wonderland and what it is. After all this time, he's got to do or say something.

Any of you ever heard of Panem? The Hunger Games? Have you heard of Haymitch Abernathy at all?

[ Oh and he's visibly drunk, swaying just a little as he speaks. ]

(OOC: Fourth-walling is welcome at this point, if you feel so inclined.)
airshipswank: (don't get up on my account)
[personal profile] airshipswank

[ Not all actions observable in Wonderland are of greater significance or entertainment value. Sometimes, such as is the case this morning at the greenhouse, one will simply observe a man with gloved hands uprooting a specimen or two from a bed of plants, before meticulously wrapping them in layers of cloth to carry away. Ah, gardening! What a delightful pastime! ]


[ Buckingham's wardrobe is no deviation from his usual design, indeed today it plays a small part only, as it is the sword in his hand which deserves special attention. Drawn and held in front of him for display he addresses the network with his intentions: ]

I never thought to ask before, but he-- [ The duke nods to a well-worn wooden dummy at the back of an otherwise empty room. ] --has rather exhausted his use for the day, yet I still... have a mind to spar.

[ He lifts his sword for show, before sheathing it swiftly, and addressing the camera with a wide smile. ]

A mobile opponent, I've not had that pleasure for too long. Perhaps someone would... care to join me? Eighty-five, on the tenth floor, to whomever it would suit today.
not_apriest: (aramis at home)
[personal profile] not_apriest
[Aramis is in the garden with coffee and a book.]

I've been reading through what will be France's history in most of your times. Did anyone here experience either of what they refer to as the 'World Wars'? The notion of a violent global conflict is...

strangeboy: (go away)
[personal profile] strangeboy
[D'Artagnan's been in this place for three days. Three whole utterly confusing days, most of which were spent navigating his way through the stairwells and hallways, trying to get a feel for the layout. He's been outside, walked the perimeter of the place (excepting the forest, of course), and peered out over the lake, though hadn't taken a chance on going in. He's never been much of a swimmer, really. He's investigated the library, eyes scanning over unfamiliar and unintelligible titles, trying to figure out anything he could.

He'd happened upon a packet in what he assumes is the foyer. It held the answers to all of his basic questions: where am I, how did I get here, how do I get home, etc. While those answers may have been discouraging to most, D'Artagnan just happens to come from a fortunate time in his life-- still entirely too confident in his own abilities, considering he's just saved the whole of France with his three best friends.

In any case, the only thing he hasn't done is figure out how to properly use his communication device. In fact, he doesn't even really know what it's for, just that it's a little black square that sometimes makes noises at him and shows him the faces of other people, who he assumes live in this place with him. He hasn't spoken to a single one, too busy with investigating all that he can.

D'Artagnan walks down a corridor on the first floor, passing through a doorway and smiling widely at the sight behind it. He's found the kitchen, it seems, finally, and Christ, is he hungry. He's still a growing boy, after all.

He raids the cabinets-- pleased to find them well-stocked with everything he loves-- and sets himself down at the table in the corner, his communicator falling to the floor with a slight crack!

He leans over, frowning at it, unaware that it's started broadcasting.

Huh. At least it's not broken.
akapeanut: (Rewind for me)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[So maybe she'd waffled about how to go about this for too long, but, well. She had reasons to be cautious! And not just because if she pissed Hector Barbossa off by picking the wrong crew, he might throw her overboard and lose her her last life. This was a big deal regardless, and she really does want to figure a way out of here. Even if she isn't sure she herself wants to go back.

And that's one of the things the resistance members would want, right?

And presumably the resistance has been, like, vetted for trustworthy people?

And hey, she did work at a temp agency. She has some idea of how to write a help-wanted ad.]

Resistance Journal Entry )

[Having done this, George tucks her journal into a bag and heads down to the beach to take a look at where they're headed, possibly. If anyone signs up. She sits in the sand for hours and, the more she thinks about it and corresponds with interested parties, the more uncertain she becomes. Especially since just looking at the waves is making her seasick. Or maybe that's just anxiety.]
airshipswank: (most amusing | in case you're wondering)
[personal profile] airshipswank
[ Buckingham, being the magnificent and universally beloved god that he is, has been utterly undeterred by Wonderland's musical program for the weekend. Wonderland's last event however, with its drab and colourless days, has reminded him of a long overdue matter in need of transmission: ]

My good people of Wonderland, if I might have a moment of your day! [ Pause to imagine the resounding Of course, Your Grace! and: ] My home knows me as George Villiers, their Duke of Buckingham, and you may as well, should... I've not yet been so fortunate as to make your acquaintance in person.

[ Cue the winning smile and kindest of kind unspoken thanks for enduring the formalities of such an introduction. As for the matter at hand: ]

I speak to you on behalf of the gallery I installed here some months ago, you... may have celebrated its grand opening on the third floor, just... near the library doors, room number four. I would certainly recommend a visit to all who have since arrived, but today I particularly address anybody who... might wish to aid in expanding its selection.

[ Buckingham nods to the scene behind him, and shifts slightly to grant a brief view of some of the works on display. ]

Wonderland houses such a wealth of artists, and I would urge you to call on me, should you ever desire to... share your work with us. We shall find it a deserving place at the gallery as soon as possible. I would extend the same offer to those who have acquired pieces from the vendors or elsewhere, and care to make them available to the public.

[ Cue once more heavy on the smiling, as the duke reaches to end the transmission. ]

I thank you kindly for your time, and hope the... rest of the day finds you well.

[[ OOC: You can find a little more info on the gallery here, and use that post anytime to have your character contribute art, regardless of whether you would like them to thread with Buckingham or not! If you have any gallery questions, just PM this account or ping me over at [ profile] pimpfox! ]]


Jun. 28th, 2014 09:48 pm
scorchedlily: (Default)
[personal profile] scorchedlily
[Her normally warm strawberry-blonde hair is now lacking in the strawberry component, and Milady's usually dramatic gowns in rich, jewel hues are now the washed-out pastels commonly favoured by the French Queen's ladies, and the twittering girls of the English court.


I've a surfeit of these, as no doubt most of you have, judging by what I can hear… [She holds aloft an Artois hound, utterly adorable and roly-poly.] But what's more concerning is the sudden influx of… drabness. I cannot be the only one subjected to an excess of colour-leaching.
alighthouse: (bloody sunday)
[personal profile] alighthouse
[The video feed turns on, and the camera is clearly shaky. Elizabeth has been gone for a week, though many may not have noticed due to the craziness already going on in Wonderland. What they will notice is the blood. There's blood on her face, her hair, her clothes and her hands. As she grips the camera some of that blood is smeared on the lens, distorting her image. One can still see a pair of metal scissors in her other hand, though, also crimson colored with blood.]

What? Where's..? The First Lady. I was on-board.. I went through the door and..

Oh God...

I killed her. I.. I did that.

[Her voice is a frantic, hushed whisper, but gets louder when she says the name:]

Booker? Booker!! Where are you?

This is.. Wonderland? I'm in Wonderland?

[So she came back. But why now? Why?]
madehervows: (pic#7711608)
[personal profile] madehervows
[Regina is just going to... ignore the piglets running amok around Wonderland. She has a few more important things to worry about right now. Namely the fact that's been at home for a while and has returned to Wonderland with a new set of memories.

Good memories, for the most part. There's definitely some bad parts, but her most recent memory is very much a good one. When the feed clicks on, it's clear she's already gotten herself settled back into her room. For those familiar with the Mayor's home in Storybrooke, it looks just like that. For everybody else, there's a lot of white with a few splashes of black. ]

Not the place I wanted to be when we finally won.

I have a question for you, Wonderland. [The fact that she's asking it publicly will probably clue a few people into something very big having happened at home.] Do you think a person, rather, a villain is capable of permanently changing? Of becoming a true hero?

[She might be asking it, but she's definitely uncomfortable. In the initial rush of victory, she hadn't needed to question it. Now that she's had time to think, though, the more she's beginning to doubt it.

The Evil Queen knows more than anyone what her capacity for backsliding is, regardless of how much she wants to be a good person, and a good mother. There's always a brand new obstacle, whether it be her own mother, a savior or a wicked witch. ]

Once upon a time, I wouldn't have thought so. But if evil isn't born, it's made, then good must be too.

Private texts )
evilhandissues: (Just a man)
[personal profile] evilhandissues
[Text wonderland, text is good for the soul isn't it? Mostly because Lindsey for his part isn't feeling well. He's been drinking demon blood and he's been doing so more and more frequently. The thing is, he's starting to realize that he can't stand on his own, but hey, he can lift a vase up with his mind a quarter of an inch!

Never mind that he's feeling really sick.]

What do you think is more important love or power?

[Right now he could answer power. He really could.]

What would you do for one or the other?

[And then - A series of Private messages.]

Private Messages to Abby, Lilith, and Will Graham. )
handing: (you should see him drunk)
[personal profile] handing
[Pepper has been there a week now, largely trying to orient herself, to make contact with the assorted people from her world, and to keep Tony from completely sealing himself down in the basement lab. But in reflection it all seems like so little, particularly from the perspective of someone who is used to the demands of running an industry-leading international corporation. She already wants to do more, but being neither a combatant nor scientifically-gifted makes the options a little less clear.

At least until Tony starts complaining about the pamphlets.

A few days and lots of consideration later, Pepper starts the video on her phone about mid-morning. She's in what appears to be an office, though for her it's a temporary setting. She ultimately doesn't know exactly what resources will be required, just that it's better not to pose her proposal from Tony's workshop or their personal room. She smiles politely, with all the confidence of someone who has been the focus of countless press conferences before (usually for much more frustrating reasons).]

Good morning, everyone. My name is Pepper Potts, and about a week ago I arrived here in Wonderland. First, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who helped answer my questions about this place. It's definitely not easy to take in. And on that note, I'd also like to talk about this.

[She holds up the pamphlet for the camera to see.] Whoever originally wrote it had a very good idea. [Even if it's far from the most professional thing Pepper's seen in her life.] I don't know if that person is still here, but I'm hoping to take this idea further. It's definitely important to have these brochures for people who aren't familiar with the phones, but since we do have the technology available, it might be wise to create a digital version of the pamphlet. This will allow the information presented to be fleshed out in terms of missing details, and potentially also include things like a map of the area. Accessibility can also be improved in this manner; for example, providing an audible version of the file for people who couldn't read it for whatever reason.

In that vein, I'm hoping people will be willing to contribute details they think might be important for inclusion in this file. What more do you think newcomers to Wonderland need to know beyond what's written here? I've got some rough ideas already, but it never hurts to be certain. Or if someone is already working on all of this, would you mind getting in touch? I've got a bit of specialized technology from my home that can make completing it a bit easier.

[JARVIS being the amazing program that he is.]

I'd also like to ask if anyone from the group setting up the history of Wonderland is still present. I'd like to contribute to the project however I can. [Proactive and useful, as the pamphlet says.] And on a personal note, could someone direct me to the person or group in charge of the gallery? I think discovering it yesterday might have actually made my day, so, thank you.

And thanks to the rest of you for your time and attention.

[There, the feed ends.]
airshipswank: (most amusing | in case you're wondering)
[personal profile] airshipswank
I. Stable Action

[ Morning has barely broken, and the duke is already hard at work in his private stables, engrossed in the task of grooming his horses to perfection, all the while stopping once or twice or fifteen times to admire his own impeccable grooming. In fact, anyone walking by or catching an auditory glimpse via accidental recording might be privy to just how pleased the duke is with himself today. ]

II. Horse Video

[ Later that day, sitting atop his horse at last, Buckingham preens in front of Wonderland's stunning garden backdrop, and cheerfully calls for a contest, which he feels surer to win than ever. And that is rather a lot. ]

We have stables, horses, so we must have riders, riders I hoped might... challenge my Ascalon to a race. We'd be so very curious to see who should cross the grounds faster!
thepointisdolphins: (someone's going to the rubbish bin)
[personal profile] thepointisdolphins
[Crowley is staring very intently at the camera. But not like last time. There's no anger or anything like that. Just mild bewilderment, and then a winning grin.]

[Without saying a word, he sets the communicator aside, revealing himself to be stationed at a piano. Where did he even get a piano? Do not question. He cracks his knuckles. Sets his fingers on the keys.]

[Then he starts singing.]

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?

goesdown: (It means someone's gotta lose)
[personal profile] goesdown
[ Crowley sets his device recording and sits up straight without a hair out of place. ]

I've been thinking these past few months about that future that Wonderland let us spy and the one thing that we haven't managed to address is a plan to take out the Jabberwocky when it inevitably rears its ugly head.

Failing that--and it seems that not a one of us does have a plan for that--I'd like to propose that we trap the thing. We did something similar back in my world with the devil. The only difference is that here, we'll have to build the cage ourselves.

I'd like to propose a bit of teamwork. We could be like the Justice League.

[ He smiles and ends the video. ]

( OOC: feel free to use this post for all plotting/handwaving/etc. )
tenpetals: (sᴍᴏᴋɪɴɢ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇᴍᴀɴ)
[personal profile] tenpetals
[Garry will be outside most of the day, partly because although he's started smoking again (yes, just today, why do you ask?) he'd still rather not inflict it on others. But he also just feels a lot more decisive than usual, so instead of continuing to debate internally whether going anywhere near those vendors again is a good idea, even for an endless vase, he's just going to go.

When he comes away, he's a bit loaded down trying to juggle his rose, two full vases, a lit cigarette, and his phone. Maybe someone should give him a hand?]

locked to Ib )
undealt: (✒ whose loss you don't dare handle)
[personal profile] undealt
[Gold’s tone is so dry, you could use it as sandpaper.]

I’ve never been fond of Wonderland. [Offhandedly. Obviously not the point he wants to make either- he’s just expressing dissatisfaction that of all the worlds there are, he had to be abducted to this one.] I trust that since no one seems to be leaving very quickly, the rabbits are either well hidden or difficult to catch. Well, well- some things never change.

[It’s not the same Wonderland. He knows this, but any realm bearing that name is bound to be of a sort he doesn’t want to deal with. And it's a miserable afterlife either way. Perhaps he should have less concerned about the sacrifice required to kill Pan and more concerned with the end result.

Assuming this is the end result of that particular spell- he has another theory. Ah, but that brings us to our point.]

That said, I’m looking for a woman named Regina Mills. Black hair, brown eyes, foul-tempered- she may have threatened you once or twice. [He lets that sit for a second and then elaborates:] There’s just been a lingering question on my mind since I arrived here and I think she might know the answer.

[“Is this all your fault?”]
avoirfaim: will what the fuck have you heard of first aid (when god is gone and the devil takes hol)
[personal profile] avoirfaim
[ Hannibal does not make himself known on the network right away. He instead explores, reading what he can and figuring out exactly where he is. Wonderland. He's not above believing in what was once thought impossible, so long all the evidence fits. God works in mysterious, cruel ways after all, and Hannibal takes it in stride. He takes a day to officially announce his arrival. Making a move on the board without knowing what game you’re playing is be naive at best, but more likely just plain stupid. His device is comfortable enough in his hand, like the familiar shape of his ipad, and he’s already scrolled through, until he found he understood the situation well enough. Only then, after learning what he could and checking his person suit in the mirror does he show himself. It’s a video, and Hannibal is the model of concerned professionalism. ]

Good evening, my name is Doctor Hannibal Lecter, and it seems that I’m what you might call a new arrival. I’ve combed through the archives and believe that I have a good understanding of the situation at hand. While I do find it terribly rude that I have been torn from my home without the courtesy of an invitation, one can hardly expect such a formality from any higher power.

[ Not that he considers himself to be lesser in any way, but it’s curious, and he keeps the thought to himself, as he does so many others. He then pauses for a moment with his tongue to the roof of his mouth, choosing his words, before continuing. ]

It seems that I’m not alone in being pulled from my world into this one, so I find myself somewhat obligated by my profession to provide you all with a warning. There is a man here now, another new arrival, by the name of Will Graham. While I do consider him to be a friend and a good man, he has a history of mental instability and is currently on trial for multiple murders. I would suggest exercising caution in his presence and referring to me should you have any questions or concerns.

[Do you see that waters of being genuinely concerned in his eyes? Good. ]

( video )

Mar. 1st, 2014 04:54 pm
monopolies: It's Percy Jackson, Shawn. (Percy Dunn the lightning thief!)
[personal profile] monopolies

[ Finally everything is set up just the way he wants it. Camera placed just behind the closed doors of the entrance wall, it's propped up to frame the hall in such a way that it looks like just any normal day in Wonderland. The real trick is turning it on at just the right moment. He decides to turn it on from behind so the video doesn't capture his initial appearance. Slipping away as quietly as possible, the video just captures a few silent seconds of the doors.


The smoke clears and, surprise surprise, guess who's standing at the center with arms cross and cocky grin in place? No Crowley, that's for fucking sure, like he'd be capable of anything this epic. For those who knew him the changes are small and subtle, probably nothing to catch amidst the chaos. A taller stature, unhindered by painful wounds, a face that's still young but no longer burdened by self-consciousness and undercurrents of fear.

In the split-second he opens his mouth, just before he speaks you might be expecting something like YOUR HERO HAS RETURNED. But no.


[ Good news: he's even more of a selfish shithead than before. Bad news: that was the good news.

God help you all.

and now a million years later do I add an obligatory nsfw warning?? don't read my threads if you value your time and integrity
airshipswank: // all icons by <user name=airshipswank> unless otherwise stated (enigma of the world | scrutiny)
[personal profile] airshipswank
[ Disregard the date, shame on my timezone, this is clearly the 18th, a splendid morning after a hideous series of murders, which left the Duke of Buckingham occupied with matters other than his daily riding routine, such as not getting blood on his boots.

But well, well, it's all behind us now, is it not? Which brings Wonderland to a far more important matter, namely the vexed nobleman standing by the stable door, the stable door on the grounds no less, after his own showed no trace of the prized animal he meant to visit.

And of course, last he recalled Ascalon, bright as the steed may be, had insufficient knowledge in regards to opening his stable door on his own, which currently accounts for a great deal of ire in the duke's tone.

I found today that of my horses appears to have been... misplaced.

[ And that is putting the dirty thievery mildly. Buckingham takes a sharp breath. The riding crop in his hands creaks irritably. ]

Andalusian. Black. I'd not suppose anyone would have an idea concerning his whereabouts?
thestormcomes: (bitch u cray)
[personal profile] thestormcomes
[Unbeknownst to Athos, all Hell has broken loose in most other parts of the Mansion. He stays inside, he doesn't get out often enough to notice any particular changes - and if he did, he wouldn't concern himself overly upon finding a dead body. The occasional corpse in the gutter of the Parisian ghetto is absolutely unsurprising: people pick fights and lose, drunken men fall into the Seine, the Cardinal's guards cut through a swath of rioters like a hot knife through butter.

Athos' real concern is the fact that one of his party is missing.

Now, D'Artagnan had gone missing several days ago, but it isn't at all out of the ordinary for the boy to stay over with a lady friend or spend the night elsewhere. The eldest musketeer's fear rests in the fact that he entered D'Artagnan's room only to find it completely barren.

The next day, the dog that D'Artagnan had been caring for found its way into his chambers, licking him awake. It should be noted that Athos suffers from a fear of large hounds these days (no fault of his own, you see), and doesn't much like that he's resorting to the public to appeal for assistance.

Has anyone seen D'Artagnan of late? Young man - not yet twenty, brown hair? Petulantly irritating at times?

[A dog barks in the back of the feed and he physically cringes, thumbing the hilt of his sword.]

...and if anyone would care to take this beast off my hands, I would be much obliged.
selfrespecting: (ready)
[personal profile] selfrespecting
[The first day Martha had spent confirming that her worst fears were true, that this event is because of her. Waking up dizzy had been the first sign, but then the statues had started to appear outside of the building, still and silent and watching.

She doesn't know what the Weeping Angels will be capable of here in Wonderland, but there's no question that it won't be good. She does some patrolling, but without one of those -- those screwdrivers to take readings, there's no way to predict what they'll do.

The second day is when she observes them making their stuttered way toward the mansion, officially in attack mode, and that's when she decides that she needs to make an announcement.

She's standing at a window when she makes the broadcast, her gaze mainly turned away from the screen. She's barely even taking the risk of looking directly at her mobile's camera.]

I'm sure you've all seen the statues by now. This event is from my world. [She isn't scared to admit that.] They're called the Weeping Angels, and they're a very dangerous alien race. You cannot take your eyes off of them or they'll be able to come after you, quicker than you could ever imagine.

[She shifts the communicator around to be in front of her, so that she can be looking at the screen and out the window at the same time.] You can't even blink, or they'll get to you. We have strength in numbers here -- if we have at least one person watching them at all times, we'll be fine.

Back home, these things would send people into the past and then feed off of their unlived futures, but here? There's no telling, I'm sorry. But you have to be careful, all of you. If anyone finds out what they're capable of, let me know. I'll be on the move to help as much as I can.

[That's about all the warning she can give, but she finishes with:] Remember, don't blink.

[OOC: Martha will be making her way around the mansion and the grounds from here on out, so feel free to run into her wherever!]
tenpetals: (sᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴄʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴜʀʏ's ᴇɴᴅ)
[personal profile] tenpetals
[Garry doesn't like statues that move. He didn't before, and he doesn't now. Death of the Individual had been bad enough, but the strange damage these angels are causing doesn't seem to be curable just by refreshing his rose. He's tried it a number of times since failing to get inside fast enough that first day, and no luck.

The one bright spot is that they don't seem to like to be watched moving, which means there is safety in numbers. The gathering place he knows best is the diner, so he made his way there after his first, terrifying indoor encounter.]

[[ ooc: I'm going to write some starters in here for planned threads- if we haven't plotted and you'd like to thread, that's okay too, just specify what day! ]]
strangeboy: (:|)
[personal profile] strangeboy
[D'Artagnan's not entirely sure why it took him so long to notice. He's been here a year-- more, in fact-- and the ponytails he's been putting his hair in have only gotten longer and longer. Maybe it's when he realizes that his hair is nearly halfway down his back that he has a problem. And that problem is that his hair is too long and too unruly to really take care of properly anymore.

He can hardly cut it himself. So.

D'Artagnan's face appears on the network, looking as it usually does, and his hair pulled into a bun at the back of his head. Still much too long.


[There's an awkward pause. D'Artagnan looks away from his device and then back to it, letting out a breath. Nerves.]

I've been here more than a year, and it seems I've neglected to ah, groom myself, in that time. [Not the best way to put it, he knows, but it'll be worth it. Maybe.]

So, if there's anyone here who, ah, may be able to help with the length of my hair? I'd be grateful. It seems my swordsmanship doesn't extend to scissors.

[One last, awkward clearing of his throat and then he clicks it off.]
akapeanut: (No point in discussing it)
[personal profile] akapeanut
[George keeps this message short and sweet. It doesn't need to say much to get what she needs across. The raw, puffy mess of her face and the pink of her eyes more or less says it all. Before she speaks, she takes a brief moment to swipe a tissue over her nose, then:]

And to think, I missed my body when I couldn't do this last night.

Anybody want to distract me from crying like a bitch?
fivepetaled: (Things do not work if you try them)
[personal profile] fivepetaled
[When the feed comes on, it's clear that the device is on the floor, focused on the skylight in the entrance hall. Approaching footsteps break the silence, but they're too light to make the device vibrate on the floor.

The footsteps draw closer and then a pair of skinny, skinned knees appear. They're followed by a childishly round face peering down into the camera.]


[Wide, red eyes stare at any viewers. The girl looks drawn and tired, but quite alert. Then a wilting red rose appears as the girl holds it out to show it to the camera.]

...Is there a vase?
justguidelines: (Default)
[personal profile] justguidelines

[Hector's standing in a room that very much looks like his own - a replica of the Black Pearl's cabin - though judging from the splintered door behind him, it's...

Well, it's not his room. As evidenced by the first thing that comes out of his mouth.]

Jaaaaaaack. [It's drawn out into two complete syllables, and if the idiot in question were around to hear his tone, he'd no doubt be looking for a place to disappear to.] Where are ye, Jack. Here I be where you should be, and imagine that, no hide nor hair of you to be found.

Speak up, mate, as I've got something to be saying, and you'll damned well be doing the listening.

[Steal his map, will he. Hector fully intends on getting that map back. Because returning here to Wonderland after the battle with the EITC the thought's occurred to him that perhaps that map - which charts places not necessarily of this world - might have the answer he's looking for, and has been, all along.

However, to the mansion at large, and it's obvious that's what it is, given the shift in tone to something actually cranky and put-out (because he is), he has, of course, a question.]

This place apparently saw fit to return me to where I belong, to do as I must, and now that that be accomplished, here I be again. Why.

cowhouse: (so there.)
[personal profile] cowhouse
[IS THIS THING ON? First actual network post is go, here's to hoping it doesn't broadcast into the ether!

Jesse's face pops up on the feed, and if he looks a little worn out, the reason will be clear soon enough. He looks to be in decent spirits, though, cigarette in hand-- no Debbie Downer here!]

Uh, yo. [Great start! Nailed it.] So I don't know how many smokers we got here, but it's getting mad cold up there on the roof and we got all these empty rooms so I figured yo, why not make 'em work, like--  [VAGUE HAND WAVE.] -like a lounge or whatever.

[A beat, and then:]

I, uh-- I guess I got kinda carried away... [He turns his head and pulls the camera back to reveal a tastefully decorated lounge area, complete with a number of small tables all housing giant ornate hookahs and a bunch of oversized couches with a range of extremely cozy looking pillows.Fucking VIP.

How did such a scrawny dude move all that stuff around? Who cares, it's awesome and that's all that matters.]
Whatever. This's Wonderland, you can't do Wonderland without hookahs. And since the caterpillar's like majorly slacking in the pipe department I figured somebody's gotta hook it up.

[There's a stereo, too, but he doesn't really need to say anything about that- it's loud enough that anyone watching will undoubtedly be able to hear the sick tunes he's got playing. Is it anything resembling the right genre for the atmosphere?  Of course not, but Jesse gives zero fucks about that.  AND THAT SOUND QUALITY. You're welcome.  

He turns back to grin at the camera.]

So come smoke it up, bitches! Eighth floor, yo, open for business free of charge. No cover.

[Aaaand he cuts the feed there. Time to try these suckers out... For quality control purposes, you understand.  He'll be around for a while, though once his lungs get tired of the abuse he'll probably be stretched out on one of those couches and cranking that dope sound system way, way up.]
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:]
confessyoursins: (judgement)
[personal profile] confessyoursins
[Aramis' mirror has taken over quite handily. You might notice him stop and take a deep breath, even twitch very slightly on occasion, but the mirror's determination to prey on this side of the glass for the first time is strong. You can find him anywhere in the castle. Let me know when and where in the subject line!]
livinlavitaeloca: (dreams and visions • restless nights)
[personal profile] livinlavitaeloca
[ Daniel wakes up in his hotel room in the village of Altstadt. He is definitely in Altstadt, and certainly not in a room in Wonderland which has styled itself to look exactly the same. And, it logically follows, this room is definitely not broadcasting a video of him without his knowledge or consent.


Daniel springs out of a restless sleep and sits up on the edge of his bed, blinking in the morning light. It must be earlier than it looks, because nobody has come to knock him up, and he definitely asked to be knocked up at 7am promptly. He was very clear in asking to be knocked up.

They'd better not have forgotten. Might they have done? This is sort of a ghetto guest-house, if you want his honest opinion. There's not even a bell he can ring to call a servant.

Okay, Daniel doesn't have time to be annoyed by the inconveniences of rural life. His thoughts are too full of the last leg of his journey, which will be undertaken today, to the castle where he might finally find some safety -- so he stands up quickly, steps away from the bed. Lacking a clock, he just assumes he's late, and starts to undress hurriedly out of his woolen cap and night-shirt.

The network is still definitely not there, but if it were, it would probably now be broadcasting an early Victorian strip tease. ]

(( ooc: info and permissions post! [x] ))


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