+ ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +

[vitaelamorte]

HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED TO YOU?!

Your mind is a car, a car in the vastness of the universe, slowly going down the road which connects thought upon thought and you glance at your hands as they grasp the steering wheel, wondering if you are fit to master the curves of creativity, to weather the rocky roads of prose, to order a cool glass of beer at the roadhouse of inspiration no wait a second you can't order a beer you're driving you're test driving your mind car drunk what have you done WHAT HAVE YOU DONE THIS IS THE MIND POLICE SLOW DOWN AND PULL OVER IMMEDIATELY YOU ARE UNDER ARREST I SAID SLOW DOWN THIS IS--



♥ ENTRANCEWAY ♥
TEST DRIVE MEME

► Try out your new characters and new Mirrors here! Have a go at the setting, thread with its current players, and see if Wonderland is a good fit for you and/or your character. Post a top level comment, tag into other people's starters, enjoy yourself!

► Thread your character's arrival, set a scene with them as long-established inhabitant, or let one of your past events inspire you. Any starter is fine, and both prose and comment spam are welcome!

► Please only note that any threads on the test drive meme are not game canon, and cannot be used as part of the activity check OR as samples for any future applications. Thank you for understanding!

► Intrigued? Check out our...

NAVIGATION | INPUT & INQUIRIES | TAKEN CHARACTERS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS

AND THAT IS ALL, drive safely, and have fun with your threads!

Comments

Agent Sloane Winters | Indexing

[evilstepsister]

[Sloane is in the bar drinking a cocktail that tastes like arsenic, but she isn't letting that bother her. Everything tastes like arsenic when she's this worked up, and if she's poisoning herself, at least she's not poisoning anyone else, something that is also tempting when she's this worked up. And she can't even shop to soothe her nerves. Getting stuff from those extremely suspicious closets is not the same.

There are so many stories here, weaving into a tangled mass that should not be possible, but when has the Narrative ever made sense? Sloane's better at understanding it than most people, but there is nothing here. It's stupid, it's impossible, and she doesn't even have her team here to help her fight it.

She does have the alcohol, though. Delicious, delicious alcohol. That'll have to do until she can find the center of this awful narrative knot and punch it in the face.]

[rebelpugilist]

Rough day?

[It's not just the drink in her hand that makes him ask-- he's here for the same reason, although he's pretty sure a beer will cut it as far as taking the edge off-- but the undeniable air of frustration that seems to have settled over her. He's not sure if that's the right word, can't say without actually talking to her, but she definitely looks like she's had better afternoons.

He slides onto the stool next to hers as the barkeep passes him his beer.]

Thanks. [He pauses long enough to crack it open before angling himself towards her, mouth pulling to one side as he looks her over.] Think talking about whatever it is might make you feel better?

Alistair | Dragon Age Origins

[fatherlesskind]

Kitchen
One thing everyone who's spent time around Grey Wardens knows is that they have a very... healthy appetite. And so, stomach rumbling, Alistair has found his way to the kitchens. The generously sized, slightly rustic room was oddly empty given he was accustomed to kitchens staffed with an assortment of cooks and kitchen-hands and other servants. He wasn't going to let that stop him though.

An assortment of cheeses and other foods - but mostly cheese - are scattered across one of the counter-tops while Alistair himself is half inside the strange cold box filled with food. He's examining everything in there and pulling out anything that seems interesting to set aside for a taste test.

"I don't think I even know what this is." He sticks his head out, grinning at the other person in the kitchen with him and holds up a container for inspection. "Do you? I've never seen anything like it before."


The Forest
The forest is a more familiar setting and almost a relief at first. Until he realises he can't hear any birds or other animals moving about. From then on he keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword as he presses on, looking for... anything really. He's half-way convinced he's trapped in a Fade nightmare again and if he finds and kills the demon responsible he'll wake up back at camp, safe and sound.

As he hears someone - or something - approaching he turns, drawing his sword and unslinging his shield. His eyes flick over the thick vegetation, searching for movement, shield raised and blade at the ready. When nothing appears he calls out warily, "Is anyone there?"

He won't just attack without provocation if someone does appear but he has no reason to assume everything here is friendly or harmless.


All around AKA do what you want
Alistair can be found exploring the grounds and the mansion with a mixture of wonder and suspicion. He keeps his sword and shield with him everywhere he goes but he'll approach anyone he sees with a smile and a friendly greeting. It doesn't work so well on the vendors out in the grounds but maybe this time he'll meet someone who will actually talk to him?

Forest

[radiopalkiller]

Stay in the place long enough, and you get used to the silence. You hear a rustle in the bushes, and you know it's not just any old forest song. It's got to be something, somebody, it's-- Yep, there we go, probably... probably a more recent arrival and of course (Christ, of course) he's got a sword, no, that figures, can't go jogging in peace one bleeding day.

At least Philip sees the guy before the guy sees him, so there's that, and how about he'll just step behind those trees here and stay hidden, or at least as hidden as anyone can be in a glaringly red tracksuit come on vegetation, do your job properly now.

...Though he could probably risk a hello. Of sorts.

"That depends. On a scale from one to ten, how urgently are you currently looking to stab other people?"

[[ OOC: Mute telepath, hi! Long post short, Philip 1.) can't speak and 2.) uses creepy telepathy to make up for that, so 3.) everything Alistair hears from him is live and colour mind-to-mind transmission, hooray! ]]

Kitchen because YAY FOOD. >.>

[outofthebreach]

The Inquisitor had wandered in for an afternoon snack, not really surprised to find someone else there, but the head that pops out of the icebox has him startling a little in surprise. Even though the man showed no recognition of him, his encounter with the ruler of Ferelden in Recliffe had left quite an impression.

"...King Alistair?"

Brennan hadn't even known the man was here. Did Robyn know?

the forest but also i do what i want (also, screeching)

[heroica]

[ She knows the second he arrives. In her room, still trying to make it more like... well, not home, exactly, but more like what might be a semi-permanent dwelling, Robyn feels it. The Warden sits up very straight like a dog, keeps still, stares straight ahead. The mabari, Oren, mirrors her, though he's peering at Robyn as if wondering what his master is reacting to.

Like a hound with a scent, she scrambles to her feet. There's another Warden in Wonderland. The hive mind they all are linked to after the Joining has been completely silent since her arrival; there are no other Grey Wardens, no darkspawn, no Archdemons. It's nice, but not as nice as the feeling of one of them, now, not when it can be one in particular...

The brunette speeds through the halls; she's on the first floor so it doesn't take long before she's bursting through the doors, pup at her heels. She looks back and forth, breathing hard, but doesn't see anyone out in the open. The feeling persists, like a faint buzzing in her ear, and she crouches and scratches Oren under the chin. ]

Do you recognize it? Can you smell them? [ The dog can't feel the taint like she can, but he's very smart and knows the scents of those who had been in her camp. It's a good sign, one that has her heart leap in her chest when he bounds off, ushering her on. He tears across the grass and into the tree, followed closely by his owner, the bright-eyed Robyn Cousland. Close. Close. Closer. The signal feels stronger each moment and her heart almost stops when she hears the voice.

"Is anyone there?" ]

Alistair! [ She can't help it, throws caution to the wind and calls back out. It isn't much longer before she stumbles through the brush and there he is, weapon drawn, which barely fazes her.

Robyn almost (almost) just closes the distance with an exuberant hug, the same way she might have done if any of the others had arrived. Well, almost the same way. Except, she remembers too well how Morrigan hadn't known her at all, how "her Warden" had been a completely different person. The worlds didn't always match up; he might not have the same feelings as when they'd last met, or worse, might not remember her at all.

It has her stomach flipping painfully, her heart pounding in her ears. ]

Alistair? [ She repeats lightly, a wary question.

soos ramirez | gravity falls

[doods]

[ Mansion-dwellers beware, you're in for a scare... STAY OUT OF THE BASEMENT.

Okay, nah, not really. Soos certainly starts in the basement-- wanders around for a few hours, finds a boiler. You know, pretty cool stuff. But after a lot of trial and error, he finds his way to the entrance of the caves. And it's kind of a matter of wandering around some basement area completely unknown to him versus wandering towards some cave area completely unknown to him.

Normally, he'd probably just stick to the basement and let it be what it's gonna be, but there's only so much a handyman can do down there with a boiler that doesn't need fixing and a way upstairs that he can't find?? Anyway, after god only knows how long wandering around a cave (presumably both finding and conquering a crisis of whether or not he'll have to become a mole person, and what that would mean for his life), Soos emerges on the grounds proper.

This clearly comes as a pleasant surprise to him. Weird basement, weird caves, weird giant mansion with illustrious landscaping. He can sort of dig it, if he lets the sudden, unplanned displacement roll off his back. Laugh shit off: the lifestyle. ]

Sweet mansion! For a while there I was like 'they could probably use some signs telling me where I'm going'? [ sorry if you didn't ask for this conversation, person in the vicinity. truly. ] But it totally would've ruined the surprise, dude!

[ GUESS HE'LL MEANDER ABOUT AND OFFER HIS HELP TO PEOPLE WHO... LOOK LIKE THEY NEED HELP? (Which is actually pretty much the usual for him tbh, for anyone seeking something less intro-thread. Soos is chill, he's all about the helping hand gig.) Ask where the nearest bus station is. Something. ]

I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO HAPPY

[charlastan]

[For someone who knows damn well that the vendors aren't going to take anything but memories, Stan sure spends a lot of time trying. He's already tried to pawn off a fake gold watch on them, and one day he turned up with a briefcase full of counterfeit hundreds. There was another time when he poured out an entire twenty-five pound bag of salt onto the counter, and another when he turned up with cartons of cigarettes, since this place is basically a prison anyway, but they wouldn't take any of it.

Today's attempt, continuing the prison currency theme, is about a hundred cans of mackerel. It goes about as well as you might imagine, and it leaves Stan storming away from the booths empty-handed (aside from the dozen or so cans he has stashed away, because you never pay everything you've got if you can help it). He's about to head back in when he catches sight of someone wandering around, and his mood turns around completely.]

...Soos? Soos! Over here! You gonna wander around all day or what?

[Despite the harshness, Stan grins and waves to flag him down like he hasn't seen the guy in ages...which, he hasn't. It's been a long few Soos-less months and it's frankly a miracle he's gotten by this long without his handyman around. (...Alright, maybe not a miracle, since it's a magic mansion and all, but he's definitely missed the guy and that's enough.)]

dale cooper | twin peaks

[douglasfirs]

[ Though it can be frankly said that much of his experience is in the 'strictly hypothetical' or 'yet to be explained satisfactorily' categories, Cooper is a man well-versed in things both strange and unfeasible. An investigator, at heart.

And Wonderland, he finds, manages to appeal greatly to his heart in that regard. Not only that: it lives up to its name. Wondrous, for better or for worse. If he didn't have quite so much unfinished business on the path behind him, Cooper's enthusiasm would perhaps be truly boundless. The tangled mass of Twin Peaks slightly dulls the sharpest edges of his curiosity, however.

Perhaps a man can't truly feel homesick for a town that was never his home. Perhaps that town, those people, and those magnificent trees were an unusual step towards a greater journey-- a place where the possible and the impossible crossed paths. Damn if he doesn't wish he'd had time to fill a thermos at the diner before making this nebulous and improbable leap.

Still, Cooper does what he does best when faced with a mystery. He keeps his priorities straight and questions everything. Featured are:

1 - Long hours logged in the entrance hall, where he can be found staring intently into the scented candles (and possibly making some notes, at least until he's found a more tape-recorder-shaped method) because they never burn out??? And he wants to know what the hell that's all about.

2 - Sitting cross-legged on the floor of any given room with an accessible closet, contemplating the closet in question (and its apparent functionality) in grave silence. Or at least temporarily. Heads up, whoever just walked near or into the doorway, he's talking to you. Don't let the fact that he's still looking at the door fool you. ]

Moment of your time, sir or madam?

[ 3 - plus who has two thumbs and is on the roof, looking for the foyer's skylight regardless of the fact that he'll literally never find it? This guy. But hey, you know, at least the view is worth the trip.


or basically any other kind of situation that isn't listed tbh, possibilities are limitless. ]

[interspatial]

Conclusions?

[ up on the roof, jane spends anywhere from a few minutes to an hour at her ever-present telescope at the north-west (is there a north-west here? a compass might not be much help) corner. whether for the science of it or the return to habit, the notebook in her hand is usually the key.

tonight, it's absent. she'd watched the stars, took some modicum of comfort in their constant presence, and meant to be on her way. except she knew the look in the eyes of the well-dressed man. she'd walked those steps and muttered and taken notes, herself. ]

Selina "Cat" Kyle | Gotham

[littlestreetcat]

[ While she's not exactly used to waking up somewhere she didn't go to sleep, winding up in places she doesn't expect to isn't entirely out of Selina's comfort zone. Although she knows basically every inch of the city, and this certainly isn't Gotham. But that's an easy one to realize.

She's cautious at first, worried that whoever dragged her here might be around and be less than friendly, but when it proves pretty obvious that she's the only one around, at least outside, she relaxes some. Starts exploring. Peering around hedges and staring at the checkerboard hills. ...Who on earth thought that was a good idea. She must be at some rich jerk's place, considering the impeccable garden and, well, the gigantic mansion ahead of her, but just how she got there is still a mystery to her.

Assuming that this is someone's property, she's not about to go walking in the front door. Nor is she planning to knock. She wants to inspect this place a little more, and maybe grab a few things from inside before she heads back home. ...Whichever way that is.

...What? So she's a thief, it's not like rich people notice their stuff going missing.

Instead of using the door though, Selina makes her way to one of the walls, one where she sees an open window, and she begins to climb. She climbs with ease, like she's done this a hundred times or more--probably because she has. Maybe not this building, but others very like it. It's not long before she reaches the window sill and slips into the room.

Looks like a bedroom, she realizes, glancing around from her crouched position on the floor. ...Oh, and she's not alone. Damn. ]

Oh. Hey.

[ She plays it cool, offering a smile and a wave like she didn't just climb in through their window and this is all somehow a big mistake, like she walked in the wrong door instead. ]

[fatherlesskind]

[Alistair stares down at the young woman who'd just casually climbed in his window in open-mouthed shock.]

Haven't you heard of doors? And knocking?

[As he speaks he shifts a bit closer to the sword and shield propped against the side of the closet, just in case. Yes, she looks small and young and harmless but she did just climb in his window for no apparent reason. She could be an assassin, trying to catch him off-guard. Or she could be a demon, if this weird estate really was some Fade dream he was trapped in. He still hadn't worked out if it was all real or not yet so he wasn't discounting demons showing up.]

I could have been naked you know!

[In fact he'd been half-way through stripping off his heavy plate armour, the pieces forming a neat pile on the floor at his feet and making him rattle slightly less than otherwise as he crosses his arms over his chest and frowns primly at her.]

Morty Smith | Rick and Morty

[onetruemorty]

[ forest/grounds. With the sounds of twigs snapping and a hearty "oh jeez," a confused, nervous teenager comes out of the trees. Nature sure is amazing and oddly void of wild animals today. Not that he's complaining, generally, it's pretty cool not getting attacked in the wilderness.

Morty has no idea what the fuck is going on. He can only assume that waking up in a weird new place is directly related to his grandpa. They were due for an old fashioned just-Rick-and-Morty adventure, but you know. Damn, Rick. There are acceptable ways to start those out??? He has school in the morning.

He'll be making his way through the grounds for a while, holding his network device up like he fully expects to have to throw it and/or hit something with it in self-defense. Eventually, he'll ease up on that in favor of the proactive approach. ]

Excuse me. [ His posture is oH GOD PLEASE SPEAK ENGLISH AND DON'T TRY TO EAT HIM, but his tone is sort of half-anxious, half-oddly casual about this rigmarole. ] Uh, so I woke up out in those trees. [ Have a corresponding point towards the forest. ] And I thought, I should r-really try to find my grandpa or a ship home once I'm out. I don't wake up in the woods all the time or anything, it's-- I mean, i-it's a weird situation for me, you know? I could probably use some directions. Or a pamphlet. I don't know if this is a place with pamphlets. Pretty... pretty uninformative trees, you know?

[ mansion.

Okay so 'dangerous magical mansion' explanations aside, and Morty being Morty, he's gonna buckle down and probably find some kind of simple life enjoyment during his downtime. Or try to find it, at the very least. With his typical lifestyle comes a certain measure of naive belief that Rick will simply sort shit out and they'll get home one way or another.

In the meantime, it's like, wow what a nice view from that hall window, right? Check out that... that normal breakfast selection and that nice swimming pool. It's an improvement from the last time he got stuck somewhere for an unknown amount of time. Tree people are overrated. Maybe one of these days he'll ask the closet for a pet goldfish and see what happens. Maybe he'll walk into the library and, uh. Never actually read anything tbh, he just wants to check it out.

Wherever he goes, whatever he does, he's here to repress his discomfort with being stuck in the first place for as long as possible and to have conversations that are 99.9% awkward. ]

[mansion] the sound i made was not human

[wriggedywrecked]

[How did Rick know there was a Morty in da hizouse? Does he have Morty senses? A Morty detector (like a metal detector but shitty)? Did someone just tell him?]

[Actually none of these are true but there's still a Rick kicking down the nearest door, flask in one hand and some kind of tentacle monster in the other. Only technically the tentacle monster is actually trying to eat his arm and Rick is screaming bloody Rick-murder.]

MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER DIE YOU STUPID MAGICAL SHITLORD--

[Slamming his arm/tentacle monster into the nearest wall repeatedly. Oh hey, a convenient Morty. Rick waves the now hissing and shrieking tentacle monster at him.]

Morty, it's TRYING TO EAT ME MORTY IT T-TURNED ON ITS CREATOR LIKE SOME KIND OF SHITTY FRANKENSTEIN METAPHOR MORTY DON'T JUST S-STAND THERE FUCKING KILL IT!!

barry allen ⚡ the flash

[accelero]

[ the mansion ]

[ so this can't be the weirdest thing that ever happened to him but it has to rank somewhere in the top 5, the other four including a very big meta-gorilla and a very real meta-shark, thank you very much. so hello, wonderland, meet barry allen who seemed to have sped into your world.

so while traveling across the multiverse is not even a matter of a maybe but rather the matter of a when, arriving here does still seem to confuse him. after all, last he'd seen, it was grodd that was sucked into a breach, not himself and he's seriously doubtful that this is what dr.wells meant when he talked of a home for grodd.

somehow, tea rooms don't really seem to scream, 'giant meta-gorilla' even if they seem to be creating cakes.

wait, do they actually do that?

have one young man who stares at those plates mattering a small, 'whoa' ]

[ the network]

so on the scale from 1 to weirdest, this absolutely ranks in the top 3.

is there any way to make my wardrobe stop producing tortillas?

[luckynumberthree]

...Did you ask it for tortillas?

Maybe it's picking up on a secret craving.

[ Hey it's a new person on the network that Simon doesn't recognize, but that's not likely to stop him from saying hello anyways. Besides. Tortillas. Now he's got a craving. ]

Toriel || Undertale

[begoodwontyou]

Kitchen

[ Toriel has located the kitchen in the mansion, and is currently working away at making pies. She's used to feeding only up to four mouths, but she's up for the challenge of providing pies for as many of the mansion's residents as she can. After all, their situation may not be ideal, but pie rarely makes any situation worse. Plus, it's a distraction. She's yet to round up enough of the children stranded here to begin teaching again, and Toriel has never been good at whiling away her time without some sort of project.

So she can be found, humming to herself and wearing a large MTT-brand apron courtesy of her magic closet, as she makes crusts and prepares filling.

She makes a note to ask her closet for a bucket of snails sometime soon. She can't neglect her own favorite flavor of pie, after all. ]

Network

Hello, this is Toriel. I have a quick question, if you would not mind answering. Which would you prefer, pumpkin or blueberry?

[rosswood]

pumpkin why is that even a question
who prefers blueberry
nobody that's who

why are you asking

Alex Krale { Marble Hornets

[rosswood]

forest.

Well, this is one heaping pile of horseshit. Waking up in the woods, lost and alone and with no memory of how he got here? Sounds a bit too eerily familiar, and that really blows. Fortunately, he's got a decent survival instinct for this sort of thing. Call it the benefit of years of experience.

He's trying his best to keep quiet, but that's tough when every step sends twigs and leaves crackling underfoot. Goddamnit.

Whatever. He'll deal. He hones in on the first human-shaped silhouette he sees and stumps over.

"Just gimme directions to the nearest highway," he grunts without preamble.

bar.

Alex isn't what one would call a hard drinker, but hey - he's a college kid. Ex-college kid, but still. Figuring out he's been trapped in freaking Wonderhell isn't doing a lot for his nerves and he's sick of roaming the hallways aimlessly, so he's hunkered down at the bar for the express purpose of hemorrhaging his liver with copious amounts of alcohol. Shut up, it's a valid coping mechanism. He just needs to get this disorientation outta his system. Smooth things over.

So far, it's not highly successful, but he's distracted. This drink could taste like battery acid and Alex wouldn't give a damn, as long as it worked. He's not exactly radiating profound friendliness, but he might be buzzed enough or just plain drunk enough to nudge the closest passerby and hold out his empty bottle without registering whether or not they actually work here.

"Put it on my tab," he deadpans.

Whoops.

network.

[The video clicks on. Public feed, yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill. But hang on, the video seems a mite choppy.] - nyone tell m - [and everything gets swallowed in a blare of static.] -llo? he - [Nope. Still static.

The video switches off. Fine. Text it is.]

ok so has anyone else been having problems with these video things

Forest

[radiopalkiller]

Philip carries a beekeeper's hat under his arm. Got the gloves for the job still on, because a bit down the forest line there's his hive, small bee box he makes sure to look at every other day or so. Not like he's short on time here. Not like he could just, say, take the nearest highway and leave.

--That's where it comes from, the laughter. Laughter, well, breathy huff, really, not like he's got the voice for anything else. It's just one third fun, promise, another third... pity? Last third, last but not least third, the complex emotional blend of Christ I'm Sorry, You Are Going To Hate The Answer You're About To Get.

Because all Philip's got is-- Well, not directions to anywhere out, that's for sure. But he's got a brochure, pulled from his pocket, handed over to the new arrival with an apologetic frown.

[[ MUTE TELEPATH WARNING hello hi, let me know if you have a preference RE: Philip sticking to writing or doing his mind talk gig! ]]

leliana — dragon age

[cutenug]

[ suddenly appearing somewhere she wasn't a moment before would normally be a cause for alarm. however, given what leliana was just dealing with and the broken magic travelling mirror she'd been investigating before finding herself in wonderland, she's not actually all that uneasy. curious, yes, and wary. but more likely to explore and investigate than anything else.

she starts in the entrance hall, the soles of her boots clicking against the floor. the blood spattered across her armor and face may make her seem slightly out of place, but she doesn't seem bothered by it as she slowly walks around the room, smelling the candles and taking everything in.

from there she makes her way through the halls, peeking into bedrooms and pausing to peer at strange paintings and windows that shouldn't rightly work. everything odd and interesting that catches her eye merits further investigation. gloved fingers hover over glass as she hums thoughtfully. her head tilts to the side when she catches sight of her reflection in yet another mirror.

eventually, she stumbles across the music room, a soft oh escaping her as she walks in. here is where she finally takes off her gloves, carefully placing them on the mantle so she can brush her fingers over the keys of the grand piano without smearing red over the ivory. she plays a few soft notes just to hear them and smiles. ]

Oh, how lovely.

[heroica]

[ If she were in Wonderland with her own mabari, he might have picked up on the scent of one of the others from camp. Unfortunately, animals don't seem to travel with their owners, and thus she'd adopted a different war hound while in the mansion. Oren sniffs at the halls as he often does when the pair of them are strolling through, investigating the series of strange rooms with their strange furnishings and strange inhabitants.

The first floor is the one on which she lives, so Robyn Cousland isn't far from her temporary home when the faint sounds of music drift through the air. She blinks, curious, and exchanges a look with the dog standing nearby. He pants, but doesn't seem particularly pinged by the sound. The Warden is more interested and nudges him along, going on to hover over the threshold of an unfamiliar room.

The Music Room is beautiful and one that she's not explored much yet, somehow. She rests a hand on the door frame and smiles faintly, not recognizing the woman with her back to the door as she experiments with the piano. ]

Do you play? [ She asks of the stranger, smiling genially. ]

Matthew | The Sandman

[not_nevermore]

[ The best part about being a bird is that usually you're treated as just part of the scenery. People say things when they think no one's listening. Things that they wouldn't normally say around other people. Secrets, wishes, damning evidence about their personal character.... All things that would have been more helpful when he was a man. But Matthew's a raven now, and he's much better off for it.

But if people were honest when they think they are alone, they are even more honest when they dream. Matthew has seen the depth and depravity of humanity as few ever experience.

It's pretty fucked up.

Where he is now... it didn't really matter. It looks to be part of Dream's domain, but the boss is nowhere to be found. He does that sometimes, so Matthew isn't particularly worried. Yet. So he's taken to a tree in an elaborate garden and is people watching. Nothing to excited yet, but he thinks he can feel the eyes of a Cat on him. Nothing worse for a large feathery black Raven than a Cat with a capital C. ]

[eatyourdirt]

[The worst part about being a bird is that usually you're treated as just part of the scenery. Well, that and the lack of bowel control and eating bugs and being tiny and defenseless and...

Well there are a lot of reasons Beatrice hates being a bird. And currently, the thing she hates is that apparently even other birds seem to ignore her. She glares down at the branch that the raven has perched on.]

Hey! This is my tree. Get your own.

[Not that she expects he'll understand her. Most birds don't speak English. But maybe her voice can at least scare him off.]

Snow Villiers | Final Fantasy XIII

[rebelpugilist]

beach

[It's no Bhodum, but the beach offers Snow something in the way of a familiar environment as he tries to regain his bearings. He's lost track of how long ago it was that he actually woke up, but making his way towards the water had seemed like a good idea upon picking himself up off the ground. He uses one hand to shield his eyes from the setting afternoon sun, squinting as he looks off into the distance and tries to see if there's anything familiar waiting on the other side-- but it's just deep blue water for miles, as far as he can tell, and the mansion behind him doesn't look like anything he's seen on Cocoon or Pulse, though his experience with the latter remains limited.]

Huh.

[He frowns as he lowers his hand, heaving a sigh before pinching his left arm on the off-chance that it might actually make things clearer, stupid as it feels to do so in the first place.

It doesn't.]

Well, if this is a dream, it's a damn realistic one. I really don't have time for this.

[Powers that be, he was kind of in the middle of something. Girls need rescuing, governments need toppling, and if he's here, who's going to do all that?]

gym

[Once he finally makes his way inside, he takes some time to explore, though he doesn't make it beyond the first floor before something grabs his attention. He grins to himself once he stumbles across the gym, rolling one shoulder back in its socket before slamming his fist into the opposite hand.]

Now that's what I'm talkin' about. Whatever this place is, at least it's well-equipped.

[It's only a momentary distraction at best; the more time he spends here, the more keenly aware he is of how badly he needs to get back to what he was doing before, but standing around and waiting for a solution isn't going to do him any good. He has to seek one out himself, which means seeing what the mansion itself has to offer.]

Could've done with one of these back home. Maybe once we all get back.

[Because whatever happens, here or back on Cocoon, he has to believe that going back home after everything is an option-- otherwise, what's the point?]

network

So what's with all the masked folks outside? None of them seem to say much, they just kind of stare.
Unsettling, you know? Probably make more sales if they were a little more personable.

[luckynumberthree]

I'm not sure they really care about making a profit. That's not exactly important around here when there's no real sort of currency.

Sara Smith | Zombies, Run!

[makeyoul8]

ocean.
[ Sara Smith is used to being in control of her surroundings and circumstances. It's how she managed to stay alive so long in the first place. She knows that now, of course, she isn't alive. No one forgets going grey, and she'll never forget the circumstances that led up to it. But she's glad she's in such an unfamiliar, almost eerie place. This ocean is not the one near Abel. She may be alive, in a sense, but she hasn't come back -- and that's a good thing.

Sara kneels by the water's edge, letting the waves lap over her knees and her fingers, truly enjoying, for the first time in a long time, the feeling of the cool water against her skin, the sound of the waves crashing into each other. It's power, a kind that is controlled and yet free and oh, so beautiful.

Sara stands, because peaceful contemplation can only take a person so far. She takes a deep breath, and she does what she always did best in life.

She runs. ]

mansion.
[ It's time to get familiar with this new place. Sara knows in the logical, rational part of her mind that she's in no immediate danger -- she's died already. The worst has happened. But old habits die hard, and Sara wants to know about every inch of this place. She needs to know its secrets, how it works, who acts as the governing body and who really rules this place. If Sara knows one thing, it's that things are never as they seem. Complacency kills as easily as a gun, and unfortunately, she's only got one bullet left in her pistol. She never had to use it, after all.

She'll need to arm herself. As Sara stalks through the halls of the mansion, she keeps a sharp eye out for signs of concealed rooms and things out of place. Who knows? Perhaps there's an armory. It wouldn't surprise her, but then again, very few things surprise Sara these days. ]

ahahahahahaha fancy meeting you here >.>

[luckynumberthree]

[ It's late morning, so Simon stepping out of the gym on the first floor to head upstairs for the day isn't that unusual, considering the gym can normally run itself. He's dressed casually today (for him) a pair of faded jeans, a tshirt with some retro logo on it, and a flannel tossed over top against the ever-invading chill in the weather.

He's not really paying attention, which is careless of him, but inside the mansion he tends to let his guard down more often these days. Mostly because unless shit's going sideways for an event things are typically pretty calm.

Of course, that doesn't mean he doesn't go on all-out alert when he turns and spots a familiar figure striding up the hall, investigating as she goes, and he'd know that particular swing of motion anywhere, had paired with it often enough in the field to recognize it easily.

Didn't mean he knew what to think about suddenly spotting it here. ]

Well shit.

[ He breathes out the words, standing frozen a moment too long before wondering if he can slip back inside before she spots him. ]

kino makoto (sailor jupiter) | sailor moon crystal

[fulmen]

gardens
[ impossible wind gusts across the grounds of wonderland, but it's most severe in the gardens, where a girl seems to drop out of the sky amidst a shower of rose petals. it's ridiculous, really, the way she lands and the air around her, pressurized, crackles before dissipating.

mako's heels dig into the dirt, and her hands come up in front of her. they are open, but ready as if to strike. her breath comes hurried as she takes in the landscaping, and the mansion in the near-distance. her instinct is to find the others, to find sailor moon and make sure she's ok. ]

Girls? [ her wrist to her chin, jupiter moves slowly now, one foot planting solidly after the other. ] Please, answer me! Hello?

network; audio
[ a little too shy for video, makoto tends to set the post to audio-only. her voice is calm, and a little unsure. ]

If anyone is hungry, please come to the kitchen. I seem to have been a little overzealous, today.

network....... sort of not really

[perigean]

[ It shouldn't be much of a surprise; peeking around the corner is a familiar girl, blonde twin tails snaking over her shoulder as she tries to creep unseen into the kitchen. After Makoto made her announcement, Usagi hadn't wasted much time in happily bounding down the hall in search of snacks.

Slowly. Carefully. She crouches, sneaking along the counter, eyeing her friend from a distance and trying to snatch away some of whatever the brunette has cooked up before she notices. ]

bonnie bennett | the vampire diaries

[goeth]

( ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ )
So I've heard you can get things from the vendors. Things the closets can't provide? There's a catch, right? There's always a catch.

( ɴᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ɪs ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴄᴀᴘᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs, ᴍɪɴᴇᴅ ᴜ | ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴ )
[ bonnie sits among the flora that grows at a rate astonishing even to her. she's never been able to connect with nature in wonderland on the same level she could back home. something that just doesn't translate. it's off, just enough to make her feel the loss.

but that doesn't mean she'll stop trying. it just means she huffs every once in awhile, unable to fight off the frustration as she leans back to sit on her feet. and rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands until she starts seeing stars... ]

Come on. Just-- just listen.

[outofthebreach]

[ Brennan's wandering past the gardens when he hears the frustrated complaint from within. It has him pausing before altering his steps, coming across the unfamiliar young woman seated among the greenery.

Apparently alone, although he looks around for who her demand might have been directed towards. That was... odd? ]

My lady? Is everything alright?

Jane Doe (Taylor Shaw) | Blindspot

[endingpoint]

Outside of the mansion, heading toward it

[This can't be happening again. How could it? How could she be somewhere else she doesn't remember? She's not half naked this time, that's a plus. But she is in her underwear; less of thing to celebrate, maybe. She feels exposed, has lost track of how many times she's felt that way. The tattoos - from her neck to her feet - are attention grabbers, and even though Jane walks with her arms wrapped around herself, it doesn't help. How she got here, she doesn't know, but she's shaking, eyes wide as she makes her way to the only building she can see.

The only thing she knows for sure, is that she has memories this time. She remembers Kurt, and she remembers he just dropped her off back home after leaving the hospital. She was going to shower, and then she was here.]

Kurt!

[He's the only name she can think to call out, looking at her surroundings, trying to see a familiar face or place.]

Please...anyone?

[Her voice breaks a little. Zapata, Reade, Mayfair. Anyone. She wants Kurt, but any face that looks familiar, she'll take it.]

!!!!!

[luckynumberthree]

[ He'd been out jogging, but he hears the voice calling out and alters his path, winding around the side of the mansion and spotting the woman easily. Then again, she's kinda hard to miss, with all the ink she's sporting. But the way she's wrapped around herself reminds him that it's the end of bloody November and she's certainly not dressed for the weather.

He gives a soft curse and puts on a burst of speed to bring him closer as he starts stripping out of his sweatshirt. ]

Hey.

[ He calls out to her as he gets closer, not wanting to startle her if he can help it - considering the sort of people who show up here, that's never a smart move until he knows they can't punch him through a wall or something. ]

Are you alright? Are you hurt? Here, you gotta be freezing.

[ He adds the last as he holds out his sweatshirt to her, intending to get her inside as soon as possible, if she'd let him. ]

pietro maximoff | mcu

[metabolisms]

OUTSIDE → IN

[ of all things Pietro had expected, he could've said that dying was one of them. but no, working with the Avengers? death was a possibility. what wasn't was coming back to life. that was impossible, Pietro knows that; not even the Avengers could have brought him back from that.

and yet there he stands.

his hands move first, touching in all the places that had once been riddled with bullets, only to find them healed, as though they hadn't existed. he remembers them, though. for the first time in years he had been forced to stop, his speed cut short and halted. for how fast his heart used to beat, it was an odd thing to feel it slow again. but it races now the same it used to, an increased rate the way it was meant to be, and there's some level of comfort in it.

that's all the comfort he can find, though. there's nothing else familiar about where he stands, about the building before him, the grounds at his back. if it were an Avengers facility, he'd have woken up in a hospital room, or at least something similar, rather than left standing in front of a too-large house. it doesn't matter the location, though, it doesn't, because all he can think about is one person, all he can think about is getting back to her.

his mind races the way he heart does, a repetition, over and over and over.

Wanda, Wanda, Wanda.

when he finally walks towards the front doors it's with purpose, not stopping for much, other than maybe and interruption or two. ]

!!!

[mindbend]

[Have hope, they had told her. He could come back. You could see him again; that happens here, sometimes.

She hadn't wanted to let herself believe it. Hope was a fickle thing, something she had given up long ago, even before he had been taken from her. Their lives had never had room for optimism, only purpose, drive, and even though things had changed, even though she now fought alongside those she once considered enemies, that much remained the same.

Hope itself was dangerous. Hope meant making room for disappointment and for heartbreak. She'd had enough of both.

His thoughts find her as he enters the mansion itself, and she feels her blood run cold as she hears his voice in her head even without her searching or skimming through the busy tangle of thoughts that came from having so many people living in such close quarters. It's just as she remembers it, his voice so clear above all the rest that she swears she can see his face, and she feels her stomach clench as she gets to her feet, the reading she'd been doing in Billy's magic training room now forgotten.

He's here. She knows it, feels it, and starts running to seek him out, searching.

Pietro.]

jon snow | a song of ice and fire

[fourthson]

[ gardens ]

[ This particular new arrival is seated on one of the benches in the gardens. Gardens, with green stalks shooting up, flowers he's never seen blooming wherever he looks. After years of knowing nothing beyond the snow and the barren lands that lay beyond the Wall, Jon would think this a dream. But he doubts he could dream up something this picturesque.

Instead of taking in the sights around him (he's done plenty of that already), he's hunched over and staring down at a device clutched in one hand. A cell phone, which would be obvious to anyone from a world with technological advancements, but Jon is well and fully stumped.

He doesn't even know what it is—some sort of text, illuminated by an unknown source? An ever-changing book? If so, Sam would no doubt be near-to-bursting with excitement and interest, but Jon himself is frustrated more than anything else. He's thus far determined that if he pushes in a button on the side, it makes the strange device come to life, but if he tries to touch any of the images on the glass, nothing happens.

What he hasn't been told is that a touch screen doesn't work with gloves, and so it seems that he'll be puzzling over this for a while yet, or until someone comes to his aid. ]

[ forest ]

[ The most familiar part of this entire place is, of course, the forest. The mansion isn't quite like any castle Jon has ever seen, but his room has shifted to resemble his quarters at Castle Black, the space he took up behind the armory.

No sign of Ghost or the Old Bear's raven, and Jon wonders when his closest companions became animals instead of people. Perhaps when he realized that any conversation he had, whether with Stannis or his own Brothers, turned into some kind of argument, a battle of wills.

It had something to do with sending Sam away too, of course. But there had been no better option for him, and much as Jon may miss his friend, life had long ago stopped being about what he wants. Actually, it never had been.

He's made it his mission to map out the woods as best he can, though this would have gone much faster with Ghost at his side. He could have slipped into the skin of the direwolf and sniffed out every nook and cranny of the forest. Instead, Jon is left to do it the hard way, on horseback.

These woods differ greatly from the ones he knows. There are no snows here, at least not yet. And yet Jon can't quite shake the feeling that the Others might be upon him at any moment. They come with the cold, and it isn't nearly cold enough. With a firm nod, Jon continues his ride until he comes upon a stranger. He pulls up on the reins and then dips his head down in greeting. ] If I may ask—how far do these woods extend?

( gardens )

[alayne]

[ at times, sansa thought back to jon.

he is all that I have now, she thought. robb was dead and arya and bran and rickon were beyond her reach, someplace far away, someplace that she knows nothing of and they know naught of her. what is there to know? sansa is gone. why would they care for alayne stone, the baseborn daughter of the master of coin?

she does think of jon, however and always with a ping of guilt and a prick a needle of longing.

she looks at him for long moments and thinks of saying naught. a part of her fears his anger. lord stark is dead and it is my doing, jon, I never listened and arya is gone and my lady mother, they slit open her throat, have you heard? ]

Lord Commander.

[ she heard whispers of his name, first in king's landing and then from alayne's lord father.

she moves to the light, a large direwolf just behind her, silver and golden of eyes and not lady as the girl is surely not sansa or at least, not the sansa jon would remember.

( I heard remember sansa myself, she thinks, a foolish girl with foolish dreams )

he would know her, however. surely, he would. a part of her breaks and another wants to smile and say, I was stupid and young and cruel to you, was I not, Jon Snow? we are equal now, you and I, have you heard? I am alayne stone, a bastard daughter of the one they call littlefinger. ]

You are very far from your home.

Archmage Khadgar | Warcraft

[dampanduncomfortable]

[NETWORK]

Quest: Mementos of Home

Fellow prisoners of Wonderland, I require your assistance! Don't worry, you'll be compensated to the best of my ability once I'm done.

I need from each of you something from your home world. Preferably something you arrived with, though if you only have something you've obtained from these mysterious vendors, it'll do in a pinch.

I'll return them when I'm done... if they're still in one piece. I make no promises when dealing with unfamiliar magics.

Reward: 61 gold, 60 silver
TBD.

------

[ANY DEPOWERING EVENT]

[Khadgar has been in Wonderland for some time now, though he's managed to avoid any of the events that strip people of their powers.

Until now.

Not that he's freaking out because honestly, this is super low on the list of weird shit he's experienced. Being turned into an old man as a teenager and then slowly regaining his former strength and agility while remaining an old man will do that to you. Instead, he seems completely fascinated by it. He travels the halls and grounds, studying Wonderland itself and occasionally alternating between writing down notes and trying to call on his own innate power that isn't currently there, and attempting to attune himself to Wonderland's personal power source.

Anybody who questions about his activities is subjected to a long, incredibly detailed explanation, before he interrupts himself.]

I can see I'm losing you.

[Network]

[slavecrowned]

Can I ask what you're trying to do?
I don't mind helping, but if there's a risk of losing it, I'd rather not offer something of sentimental value.

Where did you get all that gold, anyway?

Max Caulfield | Life is Strange | Is this party still open?

[mypartnerintime]

[Network | Text]

So we're absolutely stuck in this crazy fantasy vacation. Being kidnapped sucks big time.

Is there anyone out there who can give me a leg up? I just want to know what's going on.


[Log | Hedge Maze and Forest]

Max still feels nervous everyday in Wonderland, at random moments when she remembers they've been kidnapped- she's still too new to the place to think of it any other way. It feels odd to look out at the beautifully sparkling ocean, in the hour after dawn when the light is soft and the air is still or filled with a gentle breeze, and have the prickling sensation of fear work its way up her legs, her arms, her neck. This is not the kind of place she'd ever see in her lifetime, maybe, unless she really made it big as a photographer and traveled far. But here she was, eighteen, living in what is perhaps the most beautiful kidnapping she's ever heard of.

She's tried to stay safe, avoiding the most imposing people living in the Mansion and staying inside as much as she can. But today is just too nice, too... soft. So for the first time since her arrival, she picks up her polaroid camera and heads out to the grounds, determined to at least take some good pictures of the outside while stuck here.

Still early in the morning she reaches the place where the hedge maze meets the forest. Gripping her camera a bit too tightly and walking back and forth between the two, she stares as though lost, trying to work up the nerve to go into one or the other. Once in a while she turns and takes a picture of someone passing nearby, trying to be discreet. The instant camera whirs and slides out a picture each time.

[OOC: Feel free to meet her staring at the maze/forest or after snapping a picture.]

emma swan | once upon a time | wandering

[sheriffing]

[Stuck in the wrong place at the wrong time, Emma Swan makes her presence known the way she knows best - by yelling.]

Hook! Regina!

[None of this makes any sense. It's not the darkness that pulled her into Wonderland, because she doesn't feel any differently than she did in Storybrooke. She had intended to draw it to her; to make sure that the happiness Regina had worked so hard to earn wouldn't be snuffed out by the power of the blade that Emma no longer held in her hand. The problem is, she never had a chance to follow through on taking the curse. She's not here because she took on that power; as far as she can tell, this world took her before she could tether the darkness to her.

If she isn't the Dark One, then who is?

It's a question that might be answered if she could just find someone, but the more time she spends wandering around, the more frustrated she gets. From the forest to the gardens and then just outside of the Mansion, Emma quickens her pace and raises her voice. She calls for Hook, for Regina, for her parents, for Henry. It's no way to arrive in a new realm; she's made the mistake of being too anxious and too loud before, but she can't help herself. What if they still need her, and she's suddenly in Wonderland instead of in Storybrooke when she could have saved them? How is she supposed to protect anyone from here?

No matter how many times things like this keep happening to her, there's never an exact pattern to it. The way home changes every time. A magic bean, a flying ship, a wand. There has to be a way back to Storybrooke, she just has to find it before it's too late.]

gardens

[madehervows]

[Regina's in the greenhouse when she hears it, an unexpected voice cutting through the relative quiet.]

It can't be.

[She mutters to herself, climbing to her feet and making her way out of the greenhouse. But the voice continues to call out, getting closer and closer and Regina breaks into a run. She isn't sure what she's expecting, if this is to be her first meeting with Emma as the Dark One, or if Wonderland had returned the Savior in the state it had sent her home in, or something far, far worse.

What she finds is a familiar sight, the woman in front of her matching her last memory of Storybrooke. When she'd so stupidly sacrificed herself to save her. But Regina's had a lot of time to, if not like the decision, at least accept it. She owes Emma far more than just her life, after all.]

Emma?