normandysbest: (« [Disgust] Don't talk 2 me or my son)
[personal profile] normandysbest
[The video comes on to show Shepard's face, looking like she is a hairline trigger from 'irritated' to 'might rend something with her bare hands', but really, can best be described as 'done with her entire life, and looking into the camera like she's on the Office as demons scream behind her. In literal Hell'.]

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

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

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

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

See you soon. Don't die.
shrinkage: 014 let's do this one last time (unsure;afraid;hesitant)
[personal profile] shrinkage
Hey, Wonderla--

[ just as he starts to talk, ray has to dodge. and then dive. and then dip-- oh, you get it. ]

OK so first off Happy Thanksgi~iving!

[ more dodging! ]

Secondly, I had planned to talk about the holiday, which is an annual tradition about being grateful and celebrating family and-- [ another dive-- this is never ending... ] And invite those of you who might not know about it or celebrate to come and maybe add a tradition or bring your favorite comfort foo--

[ this time, ray gives an indelicate yelp and hits the floor, where now it's easy to see that he's in the ballroom, mid-setup for a big old family style dinner. but it looks like it's-- snowing? ]

But when I asked for extra marshmallows on the sweet potatoes, I guess the mansion took it to heart. So now I'm hoping someone could come and convince them to stop pelting me? And then we could all sit down and have a nice dinner togeth-- yah! Bring a shovel!

audio; 002

Nov. 23rd, 2016 11:48 pm
sesameseedpuns: (g r o a n s)
[personal profile] sesameseedpuns
[ Like he wasn't gonna get in on this month. This, his favorite of literally all holidays and probably one of the only general dates that Bob is not bad at remembering. ]

I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm making a turkey tomorrow. It's a Thanksgiving thing. Which maybe not everyone has where they come from. The history is pretty horrible anyway.

What really matters is cooking good food and thinking about the things you're happy to have. Even the annoying ones. Like this year, I'm just glad there's a kitchen for cooking turkey in. That's pretty much the only thing I can think of, because I got kidnapped last month and already almost died. This place is awful, and I hate it, and a lot of you probably hate it.

And that's okay.

I'm just gonna be thankful that something awful isn't happening at this exact moment. And if anybody wants to have a normal-ish Thanksgiving dinner or just wants to eat food, I'll have food. So. Thanks, I guess.

video;

Nov. 23rd, 2016 11:29 am
thecourier: (015)
[personal profile] thecourier
Gotta ask - whatcha gonna say is the weirdest thing you've ever seen? Discountin' all the freaky shit that happens here, anyways.

[He clears his throat. Dan's seen some weird stuff and coming here wasn't needed to classify it as weird. Even in the wastes, the kinds of trouble he gets himself into isn't anywhere close to normal.]

Fer me, it's gotta be my own brain floatin' in a jar. But, y'no. Ain't a competition. Jus' curiosity.
atanycost: ((034))
[personal profile] atanycost
[ Obviously a wrong turn was taken here somewhere, because as far as Rick knows, he was just in the middle of storming away from a campsite and heading for the woods. There's still woods here, of course, but it's not the woods he remembers last seeing.

In his experience, people don't just start walking in one direction only to wind up in another location entirely. So there's that particular problem to sort out. The other problem is figuring out where he is, who (and what) is around, and whether any of them can be trusted. It's not really ideal, using the phone that he's been given, because who knows who might be listening on the other end? But on the other hand, he doesn't have a lot of options here, so Rick pauses by a tree, fishes out the phone, and presses a button to turn it on. ]


Hey.

[ It's the first word that comes out, but it's not the one he meant to say. He's not sure what to say, really, so he starts commenting about the phone. ]

How did you get this to work, anyway? We've tried before, tried with anything we had left or just came across, but they didn't work. Nothing works, not really. Not anymore.

[ Cars and things like that, of course, but not electronics. ]

And while we're talking about it, anyone know where we are?

[ Oh, he's read the brochure, of course. All that did is raise more questions. ]

Just saying we're in Wonderland isn't really all that specific, you know? And even if you don't know where this really is, it's just- Strange, 'cause last time I checked, I was with a group of people in Georgia.

[ Speaking of that, he decides to at least ask, thinking no harm will come of it. ]

One more question: anyone seen a woman named Lori or a boy named Carl?
therapize: (don't pretend it isn't)
[personal profile] therapize
[Some might say that this is the worst time for this; after the past few days, few weeks, it's clear just how present and real the danger in the mansion is. Too many of her friends have been torn apart, left broken, bloody, and dead, and the fatigue is clear in Cami's eyes even as she turns on the camera.

But that's the very reason that pushes her forward: she needs to do something to fix this, in whatever small way she can manage. She isn't a hunter or a witch or some supernatural, immortal hybrid. She's just a person who happens to be pretty good at listening. So that's what she has in mind, the phone propped up so she can step back and offer a smile.]


Hey, Wonderland. I don't know how many of you remember, but way back when I brought up the idea of starting a therapy practice here. Then things got crazy, which hasn't exactly stopped, but that's all the more reason to make good on that idea. So, here it is.

[She motions to the room around her, one decorated with plush chairs and a not-so-traditional psychiatrists couch. Of course there are other unseen surprises, devil's traps near the door and under the rug in the seating area, water of both the holy and vervain-laced varieties hidden with easy reach, iron rods placed behind paintings and wherever else she can think of. As much as she wants the place to be a sanctuary, she also wants it to be escapable should things come to that point.]

Sixth floor, room twenty. During the day is probably best, but if you want to meet at another time, get in touch and we'll work something out. Everything is confidential, with the caveat that I'm not going to let people get hurt or killed if I can help it. I'll have a sign up if there's already a session going on, but other than that, feel free to knock.

[Since someone knows better than to give vampires blanket invitations to enter.]

Alternately, someone brought up the very good idea of support groups, in particular one for people who have died in some form or fashion. It's a pretty unique form of survivor's guilt, one that I doubt most people are prepared for. So maybe it might help just to meet with other people who have been through it, and are trying to figure out the best way to move forward.

[Hopefully, it catches. Cami wouldn't mind a chance to talk about some of her own problems.]

Anyway, if there's enough interest, we can figure out a time to meet. Again, everything would need to be kept confidential; the whole idea of this is to provide a safe place where people can talk about whatever they're going through, to work out issues and even try to resolve some things. So much about what's been terrible in Wonderland lately is what we've been doing to each other. In whatever way each person can, they have to fight against that--and sometimes that can be as simple as talking to someone after a tragedy, or before one happens.

So the offer's out there--and I think that's it for now. Thanks for listening.

[She'll be there, at least for a few hours following. Of course she's on guard, given that Dean is still wandering around, but she doesn't want to spend more time hiding than actually doing any good. Maybe it's just one of those stupidly prideful things, but Cami refuses to let all of the chaos take this part of her life from her.

But there's also something else she has to do in order to clean house; for a sake of a conversation that's long overdue, she sends a private message out to Davina Claire.]


Locked to Davina Claire )
theworldwillruinyou: (07)
[personal profile] theworldwillruinyou
[As the post starts, there's not actually anyone talking or anything showing on the video feed. Just a dark screen, footsteps and light breathing. Whoever's on the other end of the post is on edge; ready for something or someone to come at him. Carl reaches for a weapon - the knife in the holster on his hip - but gets a handful of communicator. The audio rustles uncomfortably and the video is jumbled while he rearranges the device to face him and takes a moment to realize that the thing is recording him.]

A...phone?

[He's very clearly confused, but not for lack of knowledge of the technology. Rather it's just been years since he's seen a working phone, much less one that would record and broadcast anything.]

Hello? I...is anyone there?

[What probably should have been obvious in the first place dawns on him, then, and it shows on his face. His eyebrows furrow and now he's more confident in what he wants out of this thing. What he needs to accomplish here. If he's here - in a strange place, with no clue how he got here - there's a good chance that whoever took him took the people around him as well.]

Dad? Michonne? Anyone?

[One more time just for good measure:]

Dad?

[He pauses for a moment, but the lack of immediate response is enough dissonance from what he remembers of cell phones from his world and enough to disappoint him slightly. Before turning off the feed, he pulls out the knife he was looking for in the first place and speaks one last time to the video. He's still addressing 'Dad' and 'Michonne,' if the tone of his voice is any indication and he does it with a smile on his face.]

If you're here...come find me.

[Left unsaid is the reminder that he'll handle himself until they do, but that they shouldn't take their time.]
voiceinthedark: (Shut up Nadia!)
[personal profile] voiceinthedark
[It's rare to see Sam truly angry. He has a remarkable capacity to take things in stride. Maxine might have seen him like this, maybe Simon, but no-one else in Wonderland and even then back home, the anger had been cut with hurt and betrayal and loss. There's none of that this time. Just rage.

The camera is too close to give a view on where he is posting this message from, or whether there's anyone with him. He's not stupid. But nor is he locking this away from Dean. He knows what he's done.]


Dean Winchester, or whatever he is right now, murdered Jo Harvelle last night. He tried to kill Simon Lauchlan too, but that didn't stick, and he brutally injured Doctor Maxine Myers, just because she tried to help Jo.

He planned this. It was horrible and brutal and vicious and he'll do it again.

Stay together. Stay armed and ward your rooms if you can and don't think you can argue or bargain your way out of it. He's a monster and he's killing for fun. There's no talking to things like that.


Locked to Sam Winchester, Crowley and Castiel

I hope you have something planned soon. He's not going to stop. He's hurt some of the people closest to me and if you won't stop him, then I will.

[He isn't sure how, but he has ideas and none of them are pleasant.]
beatupgrass: (✘ i call it a soul sabbatical)
[personal profile] beatupgrass
 [well, this is one unhappy little raccoon. having finally realized what exactly is happening, he reacts the only way he knows how:

loudly and belligerently.]


How many of you d'asted idiots eat people in this freakin' place?
abelmedic: (Default)
[personal profile] abelmedic
[All right. Martha has been gone long enough, and things have settled into at least a temporary lull, which means that Maxine has finally had the time to put the finishing touches on a few projects. The first – and largest – takes the form of a video that she records to post, phone propped carefully on her desk to provide a stationary camera with a good angle. She's groomed and professional, white coat in place, an expression of friendly neutrality on her face as she speaks.]

Hello, everyone. For those of you who haven't met me yet, I'm Dr. Maxine Myers, one of the doctor working out of the clinic on the first floor. Seeing as we're a community health center here, I thought I could take a minute to address a few community health concerns.

First, I'd encourage everyone to come in for an initial checkup and assessment at some point. Even if we all seem to be in a sort of limbo, it's probably best to err on the side of preventative health, and that includes yearly exams and appropriate screening. Besides that, if you need to come to the clinic in an emergency, you'll get better care if your medical history and individual needs are on record and accessible by the staff.

Next, seeing as we seem to have an emergency every other week, anyone who wants to learn even basic aid is welcome to schedule a lesson or two. If there's enough interest we can hold a few group classes, but I guess I'll need to see where the demand is first. Speaking for myself, I'd prefer to start with basic first aid and CPR courses, but if anyone who wants to move on from there to more advanced triage and trauma care is welcome.

Lastly, we are, as always, accepting volunteers. So anyone who has a few hours to kill a week, just stop by or give me a call. The clinic needs everything from people willing to clean and stock, to security, to expanded medical staff and allied health. As with most of the jobs here, there's no reimbursement, but if you're looking for something to do we'd love to have you.

Thanks, Wonderland. Take care.


[private to Adam Milligan]

That done, she picks up a neatly-sealed envelope on her desk, walks to Adam's room, and slides it under the door with a barely-supressed grin. The neatly handwritten form inside reads-

Adam,

It is the pleasure of Wonderland School of Medicine to inform you that you have been accepted into the Class of Who Knows When It Is, Actually. We are, as I'm sure you are aware, an illustrious institution with a long history of things and also accomplishments.

Really. We are the only game in town a very legitimate medical school.

Class starts now, your textbooks and equipment are waiting for you in the clinic.

- Dr. Myers
choosetruth: (from bottle alley to the harbor)
[personal profile] choosetruth
[It’s daytime, but George is inside and wearing sunglasses, the window shades tightly drawn. She’s filming from her phone, and she is scowling. Her mother always told her no woman's ever naked when they come equipped with a bad mood and a scowl, and though she's fully dressed... she's still taking the advice to heart. The sunglasses and short, spiky hair help add to the picture, making her look all around like someone not in the mood to be messed with.]

So. Wonderland. [She sounds disbelieving as she says it. Wonderland. Yeah right. She grew out of believing in fairytales early.]

The name’s Georgia Mason. I’m a journalist from After the End Times, though from what I've seen, there's a good chance none of you have heard of that. I’ve done my reading. I won’t ask how to get out or whether I should expect to see grinning cats around or any of those very pressing but clearly useless questions. I won’t even ask why no one seems worried about the undead showing up and ruining everyone's day, or why everyone seems to be living in a pre-rising death trap. Clearly, there are no zombies here. [Somehow. That’s almost weirder than the fairytale part for her.]

All I want to know is where I can find a working wireless signal so I can update my damn blog. There are people who need to know I'm alive.

[She hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty flickering across her face, then she leans forward.]

And Shaun? If you’re somehow also here? Come find me, you dumbass.
iseethings: (we get to come back)
[personal profile] iseethings
Where’s my son? [ There’s no preamble, because his son was just with him, and now he’s somewhere far from the house they’d barricaded themselves in. ] I’m gonna say this once so you understand, so you know why I’ll take you out, whoever you are. [ Despite his words, his voice is calm, his tone just barely elevated. ]

I don’t know what you did to him or Michonne, but they’re all I’ve got now. You take them away, there’s nothin’ that’s gonna stop me anymore. Nothin’ left. You gave me this device, so you can call me back when you’re ready to talk, and tell me where the hell I am. I’ll give you one chance to make it right.

[ He's pretty confused by how they got a device like this to even work. He also looks pretty beaten up, cuts on his face, still healing from a nasty fight with the Governor, but he'll manage. Carl and Michonne are his biggest concerns right now, then finding the rest of his people. ]

Tags

LAYOUT BASE @ [community profile] fruitstyle