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+ TEST DRIVE MEME +

♦ Test Drive Meme ♦

♥ This meme is a chance for new players and/or new characters to try out their voices in Wonderland's setting, and mingle with

entranceway's current player base.

♥ Get started with one of the prompts below, or reply to other people's top-level comments. Both prose and comment spam format is allowed and welcome.

♥ Creating top-level comments is reserved for new characters who are not currently in Wonderland, as well as for new Mirrors that haven't been played yet.

♥ Please note that any threads written for this meme are not part of

entranceway's game canon. They do not count towards current players' AC requirements, and cannot be used as samples for any new applications.

♥ Have a look at our Navigation to find any information about Wonderland you might need, or head to the Input & Inquiries page for further question. If you've made up your mind about joining, go ahead and put in your Application, or a Reserve.

P r o m p t s

I. Welcome to Wonderland!
Seconds ago you were surrounded by the things you know, but now you may find yourself standing on a strange beach. And you may find yourself in another part of another world. And you may find yourself within the shadow of a large mansion. And you may find yourself in a beautiful room, with a completely useless introductory brochure. And you may ask yourself: Well... how did I get here?

II. Lose yourself to find yourself
It's another day in Wonderland, and another event has come around. For its duration everyone has been turned into a stereotypical ghost. Disembodiment, translucency, and all it entails! Have fun moving through objects and walls, because actually touching a door (or interacting with any other physical objects for that matter)? Not going to happen.

III. Mirror, Mirror, On The March
Aren't you excited? Aren't you thrilled? The Queen of Hearts has chosen you amongst a mere handful, and sent you off to the other side. Whether you infiltrate quietly, or barge in boldly is entirely up to you. Her Majesty has faith in your skill, she knows you will retrieve her treasured Shield from that bothersome Red Queen and her hideous Reals. You will, won't you? You really mustn't disappoint your Queen, or else... OR ELSE.

IV. Wildcard
Play out your character's arrival. Celebrate their anniversary. Choose a different event to experience. Do anything and everything you like!

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[ she doesn't miss the scar, but she doesnt comment on it. Her attention is elsewhere. Namely on that wound. Despite her earlier protests, she proves herself capable, quickly washing up at a nearby sink. Then she turns her attention to his injuries, cleaning and bandaging his wound with the sort of clinical detachment one would expect from a medical professional. But she is no such thing. Merely frequently wounded herself. ]

Your folks sound charming, really. Now, how do you feel?

Fine. [He inhales.] I can take pain. If I need painkiller...

[That's all it is. She's not staring at least. He's decided that celibacy is what he'll be doing for the rest of his life so far.] You do this well. You sure you're not a nurse?

[ She keeps busy, cleaning up the mess calmly. There may be th occasional faint hand tremor but other than that she is rock solid.]

I told you, no medical training as such. Just....experience. Girls with rich fathers don't need careers. Not even to save their worthless lives.

[Grant freezes at that. Girls with rich fathers don't need careers.

He is seven years old at his mother's birthday party. Dressed in his best, dressed immaculate he plays politely with the other children before he is summoned by his mother. She's drunk, sitting at her make up table. She's been drunk a lot ever since Christian left. Swirling her wine she crooked one finger to him.

Her touches were never good. Never gentle.

"Grant. You love your mommy don't you." Smoothing his cheeks, fixing his hair, "You love her so much. don't you. Don't you."

"Yes mother."

"That's my good boy. Not as handsome as your brother but it'll do. Well mommy wants to tell you a secret baby boy. One day, you're going to grow up and be a very successful senator, or a congressman, or even a governor. You might make it all the way to the top." she tapped his nose with one long nail, "and when you come home after screwing expensive hookers in your car you'll have your wife too and she'll be one of those girls out there - pretty, blonde, brunnette or redheads. You'll have her like a cheap - whore because that's all she's good for!"

The slap came down hard on his face, "Say it. Say they're cheap whores."

"Moth-"

"Say it!"

"Mommy please."

"Say it."

He stumbled over the words, "Th-They're cheap wh-whores." he didn't understand entirely, he wanted his brother, his father, anyone, "Mother please-mommy-"

"Mommy please Get out. Go back to your hookers." she was weeping he saw. Tears cutting rivers over her cheeks.

In the present Ward's stare is suddenly intense, predatory.]

You don't really believe that do you?

[ She lifts her chin a bit. Margot does not back down, even when it's smarter to. Though of course she has no idea of the terrible direction of his thoughts. ]

What does it matter if I believe it or not? Papa believed it, and now that he is gone, Mason believes it too. I have nothing without him, and that is how he wants it. There is no escape for me.

[He straightens, moving to sit up and stare at her. He tries to move off the bed, to move away from her - except that he can't.

So he'll roll his eyes.]

There is always a way out. It's all about playing the angles. [No one should be that depressed. No one should think that way. He grimaces as he shifts.]

Did they abuse you?

[ She frowns as she considers his question. ]

I never lacked for the obvious things, food and clothing and schooling. But as a girl, I would never measure up to the standard of perfection Papa believed in. My brother and I are twins, and I always felt like an accessory to Mason. Lesser in every way. Mason has...a cruel streak that Papa encouraged. I do not know if anyone noticed what he did to me, but I do know no one would have lifted a hand to stop him. I tried to kill him once, and failed. Dr. Lecter, my psychiatrist, told me it was because I still love him. How messed up is that? I paid for my failure. I paid in ways I could not have foreseen.

[Mason has a cruel streak that Papa encouraged.

"Christian! Grant! Come wash up for dinner!"

"Chris hit me! He hit me really hard!" blood streams down his nose, over his cheeks. His brother was his friend, his ally, his confidant. His father stared at him for a moment then frowned in Christian Ward's direction walking casually across the grass, "Chris did you mean to do this?"

"He was being a baby dad."

"Were you Grant?"

"I am a baby!"

"No." His father took him by the shoulders, "Thomas is much smaller then you are. You have to fight your battles little man. The next time your brother hits you you hit back."

"What about my nose?"

"Go get a tissue."

It was the indifference that hurt the most. Indifference that was not applied when he'd kicked his brother in the groin as hard as he could the next day before debating, brick or fists? brick or fists? If you want to survive you've got to hit back

In the end he'd opted for fists and been spanked within an inch of his whole damn life. Ever since the staff. Ever since the staff it all came crawling back and even after his catharsis-

"For godsake Grant I'm sorry, I'm sorry this is not the way to do this

He's annoyed suddenly. Annoyed with this woman who presumes to somehow remind him of his past but he can't damn well move or run or hit her. Well he could but what would she do? Shrink up in the corner just like I did.

His expression softens.]

You realize you probably didn't fail because you still loved him right? You're stupid if you think that's true. You probably failed because you didn't know how.

[She openly admitted she had no experience with real world things, even though his bandage is tight. It'll need stitches but all the same.]

Or you got caught.

[He could be talking about a meal. About where they are. But then his expression darkens.]

It takes a few tries.

[There's a deep breath before he's back on his back.] What'd you try and do to him if you don't mind my asking?

Edited 2015-02-04 17:22 (UTC)

[ ~~I am just making this up because the show never explicitly tells us. Dammit.~~ It's not an easy subject. She dislikes thinking about what has happened to her, and she doesn't like being called stupid. She isn't. She is just not as cruel as she needs to be. ]

I tried to stab him with his own knife. He snapped my arm like a twig.

[ Her tone is matter of fact. She could be talking about the weather. ]

I think you're wrong. In some way, I do still love him. He is all I have. And I am all he has.

[I tried to stab him with his own knife. And there are ways defending against that.

Glancing over he suppresses the idea and the very vivid memory that he still loved Christian. That watching him beg for his life hadn't hurt, that watching his parents weep hadn't ripped something out of him. That in the privacy of the forest he hadn't given himself over to helpless racking sobs...

Or wanted to. Instead he had just stared in the fire and dreamed of screaming. Of killing them all.]

There's a way of defending against that.

[He falls flat on his back, arm straight out and grips his wrist.] You'd have to be lifting weights but you press here and here - [He demonstrates on his own wrist.] It interrupts the nerve signals to the hand and he should drop whatever he's holding.

[Siblings. Family.] It's not love if the person hurts you.

[Never turn your back on the enemy, you taught me that.

His expression is unreadable and he silences himself with a sad sigh.]

[ She notes his movements, but she can't quite see herself replicating them. ]

I never said my brother didn't have problems. He hurts me. He wants to control everything about me.

[ She had thought lying across the eel aquarium with the bitter taste of defeat in her mouth was the worst she would ever feel. But after the accident, being so helpless, so painfully aware that she could do nothing to save herself or her baby...no, that was far worse. ]

Do you want to hear a story?

[He leans back making a grab for one of the bed's pillows.] I could be persuaded.

[Something in him tells him that he shouldn't sleep, not yet, but it's comfortable and warm lying here and...there's no blood. Not yet.]

...Sure. Why not.

[ She draws a shuddering, shaky breath. This is not a story she has had reason to tell before. ]

Last chance to opt out. It's not what you could call a happy story.

I can take it.

[He leans into the pillow.] Never be uncomfortable with anything you do. You're strong, it's for everyone else to be afraid of you.

[ She cannot imagine that anyone would fear her. That is really more Mason's territory. ]

After my attempt on my brother's life, I made an appointment with a psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Upon leaving one day, I made the acquaintances of another patient, a man named Will Graham. We met later, had a few drinks, one thing led to another....I seduced him on purpose. I needed a child and he was the means to an end. And yet, his has been the kindest touch I have known. Why did I need a baby? Papa's will is plain. Only a male Verger can inherit. Mason discovered my condition, somehow, and he arranged for a surgeon to perform a hysterectomy and left me with another ugly scar. He won, yet again.

[Ward listens to this. He hits upon the words Seduced on purpose, then he hears the rest of it. Her brother had her forcibly sterilized.]

....If you still love him after that you're an idiot. There are plenty of other people out there for you.

[he pulls himself up into a siting position.] Plenty of people who would be willing to sit with you, willing to help you. There always are.

[He can't stand it. she's just like some version of himself where he gave up completely. Where he hadn't recognized that they had hollowed him out. All of them...

Trying to get to his feet proves more difficult then he'd expected and he falls back to the bed with a groan.] ...You just have to reach out for them.

[He grimaces. Moving isn't happening any time soon.]

....It's like looking into a goddamn mirror.

[ Irritably, she swats him on the arm..]

Stop moving. You'll make it worse.

There is no one out there for me. I gambled on my one chance, and I lost that gamble. I knew the risks. I don't need or want anyone's pity.

I have survived him all my life, and I will continue to do so.

[He blinks at her and raises an eyebrow before he stares at her, really stares.

A minute goes by, then a first, a second, and a third.]

...That's the first step towards real power and self realization. I hope you know that.

[It took him forever to find it himself.] Do you want help kicking his ass though.

Help?

[ it's a strange alien concept to her.]

Who would help me, and more importantly, why?

I would.

[He's left staring upward at her. Then he looks away.] Because I can. It's my -

[It was.]

it's my job. To help those who can't help themselves.

I see. That is quite generous of you to offer. But you may feel differently once you have healed your injuries.

[It's not an offer.]

When I was eight years old my older brother threw my younger brother down a well.

[Ward leans back against the pillows, closing his eyes.]

We were on vacation. He was back from boarding school. My grandmother had sent him there to try and get him away from my father and my mother. Rich...uppercrust...washington DC jet set.

[he'd gotten the whole story from Christian. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.] Mother had bought Thomas a new toy. She couldn't remember what it was. Christian got jealous. He was five years old. I was eight. Mother let him play outside while Christian was sent upstairs to do his homework.

He convinced him to go down to the well we had on the property and threw him in. Taking him out to play. He swam there for almost ten minutes. Until I threw him a rope to help fish him out.

[Ward's voice is soft.] When mother found out she hit Christian so hard she chipped one of his teeth. She broke my wrist. Thomas was driven to the hospital with the two of us.

[He presses a hand to his head. Just thinking about it gives him a headache.] She admitted as much to the both of us, before I shot her.

So I know. I know what it is to suffer. And I know what it is to have an abuser in your life.

[He's been staring out the window this whole time remembering his mother. "Grant. When you were born, I didn't want to touch you. You were conceived after I begged your father to never touch me again. You can come back and kill me. You can do whatever the hell you want to me but you deserve to know, I never loved either of you."

He turns back to look at her.] I want to help.

[ She knows nothing of the details of his inner turmoil. But she recognizes him as one of the walking wounded. In more than the obvious way. She reaches out, carefully, and puts her hand briefly on his. Just as quickly she shies away.]

Then when you are healed, I will let you help. You remind me of someone.

[He stares at it passively before looking back at her and shrugging. The movement sends pain down his side and he winces.]

We can't stay here for long.

[First things first.]

We don't know who or what's here. Any weapons around?

[ The look she gives him is the definition of puzzled. ]

You don't look in any shape to be bouncing around. And I haven't seen any weapons. Why would there be any?

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ingrantitude - 2015-02-07 07:39 (UTC) - Expand

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fratricidal_tendencies - 2015-02-07 16:11 (UTC) - Expand

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