entranceworks | + ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +

Halls

Wyoming has expensive taste, that's all he can figure. How else would he have ended up in this mansion after going through the portal? This was meant to be his fortress, so York's logical conclusion can only be that appearances are deceiving. What he needs to do is find Tex, and find the location where she intends to fight Wyoming. And that means picking a few locks. Not a big deal at all.

What is a big deal is that Delta won't answer him, no matter how much he babbles. Which is what this has turned into—York testing the doors along this stretch of hallway while talking to himself.

"I mean, I understand trying to make himself hard to find, but Wyoming never was one to shy away from confrontation, you know?" he's saying to himself as he picks another lock. "I'm serious, D, I need an answer. Really bad."

The door opens and York slams it shut nearly as soon as it opens, seeing that there's no Wyoming inside. "Damn."

Bar

It's become more and more clear that this is where he's going to remain, and he's come to know more about the amenities available, so he heads down to the bar for a nightcap before it's time for bed. He doesn't mean to be pensive, but the fact that things are weighing heavily on his mind may have a tendency to show in his expression. He gets a bottle of beer at the bar, sits down, and cracks it open. "Here's to destiny," he says to whoever's nearby, lifting the bottle in a toast. Because destiny never seemed very friendly to him—maybe he needs to respect those forces more than he does.

He swallows back a drink of his beer and looks at the bottle. "This is Wonderland, right?" he says. "It's a wonder I didn't shrink or something when I drank that."

Wilderness

He's been exploring for some time. There's so much destruction and ugliness in the fields around. He doesn't know who the man is on the billboards but whoever it is, he isn't a good pitch man. The abandoned factory is the first place he sees that offers some sort of shelter, though it doesn't appear to be a good environment for someone seeking rest for the night, going inside is the only option if he wants to know what else is going on here.

"Well, look on the bright side," York says, shifting his gun down to his hip. "What's in there can't possibly be any worse than what's out here."

main floor
[She. Needs Fear. The wriggling wormy tendrils of it. She is hungry. She is angry, and she is loose.

This is a fun version of Wonderland.

So few pretty colors.

So many...moments. Everyone is so afraid in waves and pulses and shining moments. She doesn't even need to kill to feed. There is the basking glow of horror and despair, the ones who tremble make her strong.

Oh yes.

She. Will. Enjoy it. Here. In this upside down and backwards old-new version of a place that has seen terror not even Jafar could conjure. No, this is a beautiful cacophony of terror. And she can pretend to be another normal, fearful, weak and trembling citizen until the time comes when she is free to indulge in more than just the residual stench.]

Roaming the halls, maybe y o u r s

[She hums as she walks, dragging a finger along the walls, just a song that means nothing. Every time she sees someone she pauses, tilts her head like a curious animal, then keeps moving, taking note as she talks out loud.]

I have to pick a room. Which one, which floor in the endless? The fourth floor, fourth room? Four means...death and despair. Perhaps not. Maybe nine all around for torture and suffering. A room seventeen for all of us because life is over.

[Yes, she is listening off numbers that are superstitious around the world. All around the mansion, up and down the floors.]

in the gardens

[She's settled now, laying across a bench and singing a song about a monster familiar to Wonderland.]

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

[Then she pauses, very nearly pouting.]

This isn't the same. Not the same. I miss my Wonderland.

THE MANSION

[There is a girl sitting on the front steps of the mansion. There's nothing particularly remarkable to her. Her hair is in a ponytail and her knees up to her chest. She looks lost, in all senses of the word.]

[It might take her a moment to acknowledge anyone who talks to her.]

THE GARDENS

[She has never seen so many flowers before. They're pretty. She thinks she likes them.]

[At some point she leans down and a flower appears in her hand out of thin air. It's a simple pink tulip. She sets it down at the end of a row of white tulips and it immediately takes roots.]

[She crouches down and just stares at the flowers for awhile, a faint smile on her face.]

THE BEACH

[This part she knows she likes.]

[A beach. A real one. Tiny shells washed up in yellow sand, the blue line of horizon. She sits in the sand and arranges shells in front of her into patterns.]

Halls
The room she wakes up in is familiar, and yet not, the furnishings a copy of the room she used in the Abattoir, and familiar, but nothing feels right and as soon as she finds a mirror?

She figures out why, Fingers tug at dark hair and Rebekah's staring at a completely foreign face for the first time in a thousand years and everything sounds so quiet. It's unsettling. Still, she stays there for several long minutes, memorizing her features before heading out to explore.

Outside/Gardens

So clearly not in New Orleans anymore, not that she hadn't guessed that from the mansion itself, with it's myriad rooms and right now, it's even more clear as she eyes the grounds. Still, worth a look around, so she's going to be exploring the outdoors for a while.

bar

Now this? This is definitely promising because honestly, it's been centuries since she's actually had a drink that could even have any sort of effect on her and right now?

She's got about four shots in front of her and she's actually smiling.

Edited 2016-05-21 00:19 (UTC)

1.

[Greg hasn't been here too long, but he's been here long enough to figure out that the closets are the BEST THING EVER. He filled one room with frogs already, and after Wirt made him get a new room, he filled the next one with cotton candy. He tried to explain how it was just like Cloud City but stickier, but that ol' brother of his just didn't get it. Oh yeah, he didn't go to Cloud City! That must be why.

Room number three has to be something special though. Greg can't go getting a bunch of just any old thing. That'd just be silly! And he might run out of rooms if he isn't careful. So Greg's sitting in the hall outside his room, pondering and thinking and imagining what he could ask the closet for that would blow cotton candy and frogs RIGHT out of the water!!]

2

[No Mom and Dad means no dinnertime, and Greg is too hungry for that nonsense. He's been happy enough eating all the candy he can shove into his cheeks like a chipmunk so far, but sometimes a growing boy just wants a proper dinner at the dinner table! And since his Dad isn't around to cook, he's gonna have to start learning himself.

Getting the pot filled up with water was easy enough, but it turned out to be heavier than he was expecting, and wow did it make a mess! Luckily there were lots and lots of towels in the cupboards. Having carpeted the kitchen floor in paper and cloth towels, Greg rethinks his strategy.

Who says he has to put all the water in at once? Greg's pretty proud of his idea. He's getting pretty tired of running glasses from the sink to the pot on the stove, though!]

halls;

[Lucifer finds himself wandering the hallways absentmindedly, running a hand along the wall as he goes, looking at his surroundings with a strange sort of fascination.]

I've heard all the stories of this Wonderland, but none of them told of anything like this.

[He sounds positively excited about it. Is he talking to himself or whoever he can't actually see but senses nearby? It's hard to say...]

bar;

[No longer pleased with the fact that he's discovered he is, in fact, literally stuck here, he's found the bar and is drinking the best scotch he can find. In large quantities.

I'm sure it's fine.]

This is utter bullcrap, let me tell you.

Bar

[It would take Kenzi less than an hour after her arrival to find the bar on the fifth floor and it's fair to say there's a stool in that bar with her name on it. Literally... after a few days. There was this thing with a sharpie? If anyone asks it wasn't her okay.

For the most part she's seemingly contend to sit on the patrons side but if somebody happens to make the mistake of leaving the bar unattended? You're likely to spy a petite, raven haired female helping herself to whatever alcohol she can strain to reach by crawling over it.]

Halls/Bedrooms

[Kenzi is of the opinion that if you don't want somebody coming into your room and going through your stuff? Then you should probably lock your doors. Of course a lock isn't likely to keep her out either so you should really just not live in a place that happens to have her in it. Unfortunately for the residents of The Wonderland Mansion? That's no longer an option.]

ARRIVAL: HALLS

[I must be, he thinks to himself with an edge of sarcasm, or I wouldn't have come here. This all seems very mad. England hasn't decided if this is the strangest thing that's happened to him yet.]

Hello? Anyone home?

[He pockets his phone. It's not working, and he's pinched himself at least five times by now, so perhaps it's not actually a dream (sometimes it's difficult to tell). If this is actually real, then it's one hell of a spell.]

How original. A perversion of Alice in Wonderland.

GARDENS

[Arthur is making himself useful by gently tending to a new little plot of his own. By now he's learned that he can fetch anything out of the closets--almost anything--so he's wearing gloves and a wide-brimmed sun hat to avoid burning.]

BAR

[... Unfortunately, Arthur could not avoid a sunburn even with a hat. When it became apparent that his face was both red and hurting, he made haste to the bar as soon as he could find it. His ears were spared but the lower half of his face and the back of his neck are bright red.

Sat on a stool, he attempts to cool himself off with a good beer and the blessing of being indoors.]

LIBRARY

... By Jove! This is one hell of a library!

[It's said in a soft whisper; a reverence reserved for places like libraries, museums and churches. Arthur breaks himself away from staring at the massive collection and carries himself at a brisk pace into the shelves.

He plunges into a first edition of A Christmas Carol. A wide grin spreads across his face in sheer delight.

Maybe spending time in this 'Wonderland' won't be so bad after all.]

Edited 2016-05-21 04:20 (UTC)

1.

[It hadn't been that long since Toriel had arrived here. A day, maybe two, of being here, after being snatched from the cold embrace of her death. After meeting the child who had killed her... and another child that she never dreamed she'd get to see again.

She hasn't gotten a chance to get to know many others yet- she's spent a great deal of time learning how things work here- and now, she wants to try to do something speical for one of those children. After getting some ingredients from the closets, she could now be found in the kitchen, using them to bake something.]

2.

[Toriel had fallen into somewhat of a routine back in the ruins. Check to see if anybody new fell. Trade jokes with a friend on the other side of a door. Tend to some flowers. Reread one of her books. Visit her favorite bug hunting spots.

There were so many more options now, it was a little overwhelming. Even just the amount of books available to her now would've been an amazing gift.

For now, though, one of her favorite things to do is to simply... be outside. After so long underground, being able to feel something as simple as grass under her feet, and the sunshine on her fur... it's almost unbelievable, really. And it helps give her time to think about what she's going to do now that she's here.

bar

[Jeremy Gilbert is too young to be here. He's at least two years under the arbitrary American barrier to entry for liquor. However, he he's stationed at the bar anyway, downing as many shots of hard liquor he can manage before someone cuts him off. Trapped in a Hell dimension with baby versions of the emotional baggage he moved cross-country to avoid, who are so young they don't even remember becoming emotional baggage? This needs booze.

He speaks aloud to whoever feels like answering.]

Some people think this might be karma. If it is, what're you in for?

gardens

[Yeah, sure. It's pretty out here. But out here is where the good lumber is. It's the closest thing this place has to raw materials, the kind of weaponry that comes from someone suspicious of the closet materials. Today, from noon until sunset, there's a teenager playing Lumberjack. He's out in a tanktop, chopping down a tree, cutting up logs, and whittling decidedly stake-shaped items. It's habit, mostly. Makes him feel productive.]

"....well where the fuck am I now?"

The black armored soldier turned rapidly and scanned the area around her. This wasn't the ship she was just on, there was no echo of Omega whispering in her head feeding her ideas. No shudder of steel thrusting into space under her feet. It was... a goddamned castle. A real honest to god castle with a lobby that could have fit all of blue base in it.

Hands rose and rested on her hips and she shook her head. Every damned time. Every damned plan. She made it right to the end and then it went to hell. No different now, she'd been so close, she'd almost managed to get Omega away from Church and the rest, she was so close to putting an end to the war and everything that had threatened her idiots. And she failed again.

Every

single

time.

"Great, so what's the game this time?" She kicked at the floor and started walking, not like she had anything else to do.

@ the diner

[you probably came to the diner to enjoy a quiet snack, maybe some coffee and pie or some late night hash browns. you probably didn't want to be bothered. and, at first, you aren't. gina is pecking away on her network device, typing with as much "nonchalance" as any person in a heated internet debate can muster. finally, she turns to you (yes, you) and starts talking.]

Look, I'm #overit already, but this jerk won't believe me about the unicorns in the forest. I saw them last night, okay? And I might not need anyone's validation to continue my very charmed existence, but I am fond of being called a liar when it comes to sightings of real supernatural creatures. I'm not just a punk who would throw around these terms lightly! There was a real unicorn.

@ just outside the ballroom.

[gina can be seen through the week hanging up posters that advertising "The Artist Formerly Known As Gina" in her premier performance in Wonderland. The poster is full of seemingly unrelated symbolism including three wolves and a moon, but her cheerful demeanor is not about to be stopped by questioning looks. This is the happiest Gina has looked all month.]

Friday at 6 pm - I know you're not going to miss it.

@ the library

[gina isn't a librarian. but she's sitting behind the librarian's seat, shuffling around papers and highlighting things that...don't actually seem to have any relevance at all.]

This mind-numbing soulless work reminds me of home.

[is what she'll tell you if you ask, before turning back to her cellphone to ignore the pointless work she's apparently created for herself.]

network; voice

So I looked in the mirror today and --[kara stops suddenly, laughing a little nervously] I mean, I know, rule number one? Cover the mirrors? But I guess I thought, "hey, what the heck, what could be so scary about this? Looking at the worst parts of me reflected back? Must be a Tuesday." [she laughs again, a little sadly on top of her nerves and then sighs.] I mean, I've seen that. Before? Back home? Bad stuff.

[then, as if she's only just remembered:] Anyways - I looked into the mirror and I saw her. Mirror-Kara. She definitely looked like me. But also not like me. Really angry.

And at first I thought I should just cover it up again, and make her go back to her -- whatever they do on the mirrorside. But I didn't. The truth is, I feel kind of sorry for her.

[kara takes a deep breath. this is definitely an Inspiration Speech Moment, and she knows it, it's just. hard for her. hard enough to do as supergirl - way harder to do as kara.]

And I do -- feel sorry, that is. I think we should embrace that. Embrace them. They've lived their whole sad lives on the otherside of that mirror and they can't even see what we've got because we're always shutting them out. I'm done giving them another chance to hate. I'm not covering up my mirrors anymore.

arrival

[gwen falls, like alice, down the rabbit hole. she falls and falls and falls and there isn't an end. there is a clock tower, and then there is the mansion, and then there is a soft bed of leaves that is somehow soft enough to break her fall without killing her. leaves, instead of webbing. her neck doesn't break, her spine doesn't snap. she lands.]

Peter...?

[is her first question, even though it makes her feel like some kind of silly comic book girlfriend just waiting to get killed off for the superhero's maximum white manpain.]

Peter?!

[she asks again, as the shock sets in. peter isn't here, but neither is harry. neither is anything she remembered from home. nothing from here is from home. nothing here makes any sense.]

This isn't right.

[but she isn't going to figure it out by sitting on a pile of leaves. so she picks herself up, dusts herself off, and heads off towards the mansion to get some answers.]

network - text

where's the farthest you've ever gone out on the grounds? in the forest? on the ocean? more importantly, when you stopped being able to go, what did you feel? asking for science. be as detailed as possible.

THE LIBRARY

[ If anything will give Matt proof that he's in Wonderland, it's the library. His senses can't seem to make left or right of the place, but if the stories are to be believed and the library caters itself to its guests, then... Well, he's going to see for himself, so to speak. Matt folds up his cane and feels his way along the walls. Whether he found himself by the law section by sheer chance or some 'divine will' is an entirely different question.

He pulls a book out at random and opens it, running his hand over the pages while he looks straight ahead. A bit of an odd sight for someone sighted, but Matt's checking for one thing-- braille. Page after page, just as advertised. He'd recognize Thurgood Marshall anywhere. ]

Damn, they're good.

[ He pulls out another. Same thing. He's going to be here a while. ]

THE FENCES

[ Naturally for all that Matt may or may not believe the magic, he wants to leave, he has a city to protect and that isn't getting done by staying in some creepy, weird mansion. He waits for the cover of night and even gets dressed up in his Man In Black duds to try and make his escape, and yet despite sensing the fences just on the edge of his 'sight,' he doesn't seem to be getting any closer.

He's just back at the front door again, sweaty and frustrated for somehow taking the same wrong turn five times. Someone throw him a bone or something, seriously. ]

OR ANYTHING ELSE...

[ idk feel free to wildcard me too ]

training center;

[Things are, frankly, dull here. There is a pointed dearth in things to kill on the quieter days, and thus, there is no challenge. And so Zer0 must entertain themselves in other ways - namely, by keeping their skills razor-sharp. They shadowbox with punching bags. They whip through obstacle courses. They fling out a holographic decoy and watch it idly, lacking any target for the time being.

If anyone spots them in the training area, they might not realize that whippet-thin form is a digistructed copy of the real thing until it is too late.]

gardens;

What's what? You don't appreciate the red dot of a sniper sight hovering around your chest and/or head region?

Too bad.

Zer0 is keeping a sharp eye out. They're not about to open fire indiscriminately, of course, but they're surveying their surroundings and they want to get a good lay of the surrounding area and all of its inhabitants.

So don't worry. They're not about to shoot you. Probably.

network; text

Boredom is a vice.
There is nothing to do here.
Where are the good guns?

Edited 2016-05-21 06:59 (UTC)

gardens;
[ It's a gorgeous day outside--the sky is so blue and the weather is a comfortable warm. That is about the only nice thing today. Considering she's apparently somehow been magically kidnapped(?????), Maki doesn't find herself terribly thrilled with anything beyond the weather.

True, the gardens are pretty. The flowers are all impeccably planted and well-grown, so clearly someone around here knows what they're doing. Were she anywhere else, she would be enjoying this scenery, but "Wonderland?" How is she supposed to be happy about that?

So here's a high school student in the garden, wandering through them, though the expression she wears is something akin to distaste. You'd almost think she didn't actually approve of the flowers. ]

music room;
[ Lucky enough to have happened across the music room by complete accident, it's completely empty but for her. Which, really, is perfect. Though she tosses a brief glance around the room, she heads very quickly to the beautiful piano sitting in the room.

If there's one thing that will make her feel more at home, it's music. Hearing it, playing it... Either is good, but playing is her preferred choice.

Maki takes a seat on the bench and takes a moment to accustom herself to this particular piano. Then it's just moments before her hands are on the keys, slender fingers dancing over the keys with a practised ease. Soon she's not even just playing, but she's singing, too. The song isn't a long one, but it's got this nostalgia to it... ]

network | text;
This is ridiculous.
Am I really expected to believe that there's a grinning, talking cat?

[ Maki, you believe in Santa... ]

gardens

[He'd waited in the Ruins for a long time. Longer than he'd thought he would. But eventually, that flash of light comes and he just thinks - there it is - before he wakes up again. And... he's still in a patch of flowers, but a very different one. And he still had claws.

And feet.

Despite everything, it's still you.

He can feel those claws start to shake before he really looks up, sees the bright open sky and expanding landscape and his-- well, if he still had a soul, it would have frozen in his chest by now. Something's changed. This is new. And he just falls back on his rear and tries to get his bearings, some kind of understanding of why this is what it is.

Man.

He really screwed up.]

Halls
Nick wasn't sure how he got here. He thinks at first it's a dream, though if so it's a dream without the dread of the Dark Man or the hope of Mother Abagail, and one without neither had scarcely come to him after the plague. In those dreams he can hear, too, and as he walks slowly down the corridor his world is as silent as it always has been. No, this was real, somehow.

He needs to get back -- he can't leave Tom alone, especially as he remembers just how terrified his new friend had been at the hurricane that was fast closing in on him. But Nick had the feeling that was going to be easier said than done. He continues making his way down the hallways, looking out for any sign of anyone else here and hoping he wouldn't be met with the same overwhelming death and solitude he'd found everywhere since Captain Trips had taken hold, and when he does spy someone he waves frantically to get their attention.

halls

[What the whaaaaaat. This is fake, right? Some illusion blizz some ticked-off wizard is pulling on her?

No. Wait, no, this is probably real. Damn. Wonderland, though? That hits some old memories, stories from way back.]

"Six impossible things before breakfast"? [Spoken out loud while she floats down the halls, but to no one in particular. Mostly trying to remember what the story was about. Rabbit hole, playing card people... ugh. Whatever. She tries doors, milling about curiously. Might as well see who else is here. It's bound to be better than just running around on her own.]

music room

[Now this is more like it. Marceline grabs a classical guitar from the far wall, curiously plucking a scale to test its tune. Perfect. From there, she floats aimlessly to another side of the room, starting to strum out a riff.]

London calling to the faraway towns! Now war is declared and battle come down...

[Her voice comes through as clear as the guitar, and she closes her eyes, glad for the chance to cut loose. Too bad she's not giving much thought to the nearby rooms, if she even cares who can hear her at all. The search for people from home can wait. Music's enough for now.]

1.) DREAM:
[It starts off innocently enough. You're replaying a memory, taking a trek through the woods, a walk by the beach, going to your job, y'know, reliving the worst most pathetic moments of your short life repeatedly or what have you... until it starts to feel different. The shadows on the wall seem to dart away just a hair quicker than physics seem to dictate they should-- and wait- did that picture of an eye just wink? If the dreamer is feeling so inclined, they just might notice this all feels much more lucid than a typical night's rest.

Yes, it's been a while since Bill has peered into the dreams of a mortal. Where most new residents could gain influence and knowledge simply talking face to face, Bill did not have such luxury. Fortunately, he has a different way to get his answers-- directly from the source.

Perhaps what is most jarring of all is the lack of color. No matter what the dream is, no manner of bright cotton candy clouds or deep blue waters seem to hold any form of saturation-- Aside from one, the barest shine of gold. Where it manifests is different each time, but one thing is for sure, an echo of laughter seems to be growing louder the more you notice it. Can you guess why?

Tonight that source is eenie, meany, minie, you].

OOC: Dreamscape prompt! The dream demon Bill Cipher is capable of inserting himself into image baring a likeness to his triangular form or all seeing eye, and tonight, the dream he has chosen to infiltrate is yours- LUCKY YOU!! Make something vague or set the scene and I'll join on in!

2.) NETWORK TANTRUM. ~~Because its a meme and I couldn't do this otherwise.~~

[Contrary to Pinetree's oh-so-VERY wrong analysis, Bill Cipher can, in fact, be subtle. Sure he might enjoy wrecking as much as he can in as few seconds possible, but that doesn't mean he HAS to. So sue him, you try not having a lot pent up energy when you plan a whole a trillion years for ONE party and have under 24 hours in the physical world!... being comprised of nothing but pure energy doesn't help either.]

“So THIS is Wonderland, huh? Topsy turvy, lacking of all common sense, overly abundant with half baked metaphors. LOOKS LIKE MY KIND OF PLACE!! Aside from One. Small. Problem.

[This? This isn't one of those moments. ~~And for the sake of voicetesting I'm toning down the cryptic at the moment.]~~

"That I WAS KIND OF IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING, HERE!!! HEY, Hey bright eyes, HOW LONG IS THIS GONNA TAKE? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD IT IS MICROMANAGING ALL OF EXISTENCE?! What gives?!”

[The Queen isn't here, but that's okay, technically neither is Bill. Who is here is whatever poor sap has a communicator and thus must endure this angry tirade. They say you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs and Bill intends to PULVERIZE THE HELL OUT OF THEIR MOLECULES until he gets some answers!]

C.) Drop ME a line, I'll follow any prompt you set. LET'S GET WEIRD!

Halls
[By far the most disconcerting thing is that she can't remember how she got here. There is no single moment living in her memory that explains where she is or the path that brought her here. She wanders the halls--each different, each strange in a new way--for a long time, hoping to remember something. The familiar feeling of helplessness and dread seeps into her, ice cold and heavy.

In one lonely hallway she stops, reaching out a hand to steady herself on the wall, and finds herself pressing her face into the wallpaper, other hand stretched over her mouth. She wants to scream. She knows not to.]

Bar
[This room feels warm. After so many unfamiliar spaces, this is the only place that brings any comfort. She can spot a few bottles of wine along the wall behind the bar. At least that is familiar. She sees several other people sitting at the bar, and gathers her self up before walking inside. The click of her high heels is slow and hesitant as she moves in and places herself at the bar.]

Wine, please. Anything red. Leave the bottle.

Edited 2016-05-23 03:22 (UTC)

[He had only been here for one (1) hour but already he felt like he had been wandering for a lifetime. Up and down, up and down, the stairs seemed endless. At least they were lit well, with plenty of mirrors to fix his hair in.

He stood in front of one such mirror at the beginning of the second floor, gently adjusting his bangs and sighing irritably. He was going to have to find some place with adequate hair gel to fix this awful...thing...it was doing.

A potential bad hair day was a much scarier prospect than the fact that he seemed to have been sucked into some strange world named Wonderland. Though, to be fair, he himself was a wonder so he was sure he would fit in. ....Riiiight after another little nudge with his hair here...]

Outside the Mansion

[New people to Wonderland probably aren't too hard to spot and the blonde sitting on the grass outside the Mansion is no exception to that rule. She has the look of somebody who has been doing it rough for a while. Her clothes worn, oil stains and dirt on her black denim jeans. The material of her shirt has grown thin from wear and the once white print on the front of it has turned grey and cracked.

Despite the dirt that smudges her fair skin, you wouldn’t go so far as to think she’d been living on the streets but one look at her confirms that wherever she came from, it hadn’t been pretty. The twin colts holstered to her body and the assault rifle laying at her feet makes for strange juxtaposition amidst the sprawling green of the Wonderland Gardens. The blonde looking far too serene as she breathes in the air. Her eyes closed. Her head tipped back. The sun licking her skin as she rests her arms on top of her knees.]

You smell that? [Not so much as a twitch to suggest she'd heard anyone approach.]

Son.

Of.

A.

Bitch.

Yup. Sonofabitch. That basically covers it. Seriously, one second ago he was in the worst base in history... so bad even the god damned box canyon in the middle of nowhere seemed nice by comparison... and now he's...

... Well, wherever the hell this place is. Is this a castle? Like some crazy-ren-fair-shit castle? If he gets attacked by some loony with a sword he's going to be very very pissed.

"Well... crap. As if my life wasn't messed up enough already." Church looks around and picks a direction to start walking. "This is exactly what I need. Just some peace and quiet... is that too god damn much to ask? I mean really..."

Agent York | Red vs Blue

The Jabberwocky | Once Upon a Time in Wonderland

Poniko | Yume Nikki

Rebekah Mikaelson | TVD/The Originals

Greg | Over the Garden Wall

lucifer morningstar ; lucifer

Kenzi Malikov ][ Lost Girl

england (arthur kirkland) | hetalia

Toriel | Undertale