+ ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +

[vitaelamorte]

Has this ever happened to you? You are an adventurous and daring roleplayer bursting with motivation and ideas, and Wonderland seems just the place for you to let your creativity flourish, AND YET... you doubt.

Unsure if your grasp on that one character's voice is as firm as you'd like it to be? Wondering how exactly your regular character's quirks will work out, once you've turned them into a Mirror? Curious and curiouser about how your magnificent muse might fit into the world of Wonderland? Or do you simply want to warm up and stretch your legs, before submitting that application and coming to meet entranceway's characters and players?

THEN WE HAVE JUST THE THING FOR YOU!

If this delicious apple in its constant, looming spin



is the spitting image of the doubts and concerns holding you back from IMMEDIATELY applying one or more characters to this game, then you have come to the right place! Boldly reach for your juicy and vitamin-filled hesitation and crush it between your teeth, with our latest, greatest and most fashionable

♥ ENTRANCEWAY ♥
TEST DRIVE MEME

► Try out any 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 our past events inspire you. Any starter is fine, and both prose and comment spam are welcome!

► Please only note that threads on the test drive meme ARE NOT GAME CANON. They can't 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 | WANTED CHARACTERS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS

AND THAT IS ALL, so go test those drives, drive those tests, and seize the apple! ♥

Comments

[sjokolademelk]

[ noora has never been against parties, as long as those parties weren't thrown by sexist douchebags looking to perpetuate their misogynistic and opportunist endeavors, particularly with the entirety of her russ bus. so. hvorfor ikke? she thought, when she heard about this one. perhaps she could meet some people. (perhaps she could through some miracle see someone she knows.)

she's here at this one, for so many reasons other than that she'd rather not touch in the meantime. very, very intentionally and very carefully, embracing the surrealism and familiarity in getting ready, noora chose a bold and brazen red lip paired with a blue, high-collared sweater to wear to this outing. (both are very close to what she owns back home in an unsettling way, but that's something she's also come to take weird comfort in this past month in wonderland.)

idly and absently, noora plays with her phone in the middle of the festivities, her wide eyes taking everything in, scanning the room with unparalleled hope for a known face. she jumps a little at the sound of a girl's voice, unsurprisingly speaking english (doesn't everyone here?) and looks at her way. ] Hva? [ the startled word pops out of her mouth before she can think to translate it; noora shakes her head and instead smiles, somewhat tightly out of awkwardness, in response to the friendly question and loud personality before her. when she speaks again, it's well but with an unmistakable scandinavian accent. ] Hi. Ah, I'm fine. [ you can do better than that, sætre. what would sana do? ] Is this your party?

[dramatic]

( people tend to have their misconceptions. people tend to have a lot of them.

mj's used to it, used to people determining who she is and her sense of worth based on her behavior or appearance. the fact she wants to be a model and an actress -- the fact she's proud of that -- only adds more fuel to the fire. she's a floozy, she's an airhead, she's flighty and shallow; more often than not they're descriptors she wears like badges of honor. she's been on the receiving end of way too many unsolicited attentions to not be aware of the vulnerable situations girls like noora (girls like herself) can land in at a club.

it's why she has a superhero or two that she trusts on call. it's why there's a laminated sheet pasted in the bathroom stalls with secret codes they can use by ordering certain drinks, should they ever feel unsafe. and it's why she is the first one to punch a fothermucker on the face if she determines that they deserve it.

if something disgusting is happening in wonderland, it won't be in the spaces she claims. )

Yep! It's not opening night, but it's still new to Wonderland. Anyone that wears that shade of lipstick is welcome in my club. ( mj is into it, is what she's saying. she tips her head to the side, taking in the non-english word noora used, along with the way her voice sounds. ) What's your name, cutie?

[sjokolademelk]

[ she's taped up a piece of paper up in her room already, the one like she has at home, hanging by her mirror (those scary, pesky things here apparently) ever since she met a few different people here stuck just like she is: everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. be kind. always.

noora knows a thing or two about labels. she knows about the importance of treating everyone equally, regardless of how they act or what they want. do unto others, and all that, as long as they do good too. she does notice with easy perception this girl before her is more flamboyant in ways that almost remind her of esklid: but she doesn't presume or judge her for it. if anything, she recognizes the kindness with it.

her smile widens. she looks down, flattered and put at some ease by the compliment between girls. ] I, uh. I'm Noora. Thank you. I love your pants. [ she looks down at them with the same genuine regard. ] Super daring.

[dramatic]

Ooh, Noora. That's fancy.

( mj props her chin into her fists, ignoring poor peter parker in favor of what may turn out to be a formidable gal pal. there's a shortage of those in wonderland. mj's nosy, so she's pried into the network, and proceeded to get bored within ten minutes from all the yelling by ego-bruised adults. )

I'm MJ. Daring is my middle name.

( or was that danger? she can't keep track of anything to save her life. she loves these leather pants, btw. her tush has never looked cuter. and leather designed by alexander mcqueen is easy to swing when you don't have to pay for it. the closets might just be mj's favorite part about this whole acid trip. what more could a low-income girl from queens want? (the answer is a lot, by the way. she can want a lot. who said ambition was a flaw?) ) Don't take this the wrong way, Noora, but something tells me you're new to Alice's digs.

[sjokolademelk]

[ truthfully, noora finds 'mj' more unique than anything like her name, however oddly spelled and perhaps heard it is — she'd much rather test those foreign letters out; she wonders what they mean. besides the beginning sandwich to 'daring', anyhow. ] 'Digs'? [ it takes her a moment, the nomenclature understood but used so little (and not ironically) it trips her up for a moment. then, of course, she understands the idea.

she is new here, to this... insane, overwhelmingly insane place. it spins her head sometimes, makes her want to scream and pull out her hair like she's going crazy, because how are more people not freaking out like this every day? maybe it'd be — easier, if not more bearable to process, if she had someone like eva or sana or even esklid or hell, even her depressive roommate linn here to make sense of it. (or william. vilde. chris. she tries hard not to think of all of them. she fails, utterly.)

so. there's a tenseness to her lingering grin, in her response, when she replies. ] Ja. Ja, I am. Is it the total... [ she trails off, lifts a hand to gesture with some humor, because perhaps some will ease this situation ] 'lost vibe' I'm giving out? [ it's not like her, honestly. then again, nothing about this is like anything she knows. ]

[dramatic]

( mj waves her hand in the air in what is meant to be an ice breaker. )

Nah. I'm just nosy, and I'm pretty sure I'd have seen you before if you weren't. ( new, that is. mj adapts with almost startling quickness, mostly because she is aggressive in her denial of anything Bad. finding herself in a new place that supposedly feeds on their memories? sure, cool -- now where's the dance studio?

she'd normally not ... try to make anyone feel better. she's been allergic to commitments of any kind, and friendships require a great deal of commitment. but gwen's death is still fresh in her mind and her heart, a sobering reminder that the party, any party, does eventually end. )

You want something to drink? Doesn't have to be alcoholic.

( mj may be a party animal, but she never needs to drink to have a good time. she's seen the ugly sides to alcoholism far too closely for that. )

[sjokolademelk]

[ she wonders how long mj has been here. noora is not stranger to adapting, nor new things: she left her loveless, neglectful home the moment she could and travelled a few corners of europe. this is different. for a moment though, the relief of having some kind of companion makes it feel just a little less so.

noora relaxes. ] I'll have some soda. [ she doesn't drink alcohol, not anymore. she blacks out if she has too much, and then —

well, there was that other time she blacked out.

she moves towards the bar and picks up something cool and orange, checking the label to be certain it's truly what she's after. ] How long have you been here, MJ? [ she says the letters carefully, trying out the american annunciation. ]

[dramatic]

( mj, for her part, goes for a club soda.

non-caffeinated, because if there's anyone in the world who doesn't need caffeine late in the evening, it's mary jane watson. she bites back a smile when she hears noora testing out her name. why so damn cute, noora. mj lowkey already wants to trade lipsticks. )

A month.

( people are usually surprised by this, because mj doesn't seem like a recent addition, but that's ... mj. she scrunches up her face a little. )

Can I ask what your first language is or is that like a multiverse faux pas? ( pls tell her noora, mj is a girl that likes to be wide awake. )

[sjokolademelk]

[ noora would rather have some chocolate milk if she's being honest, but she'll take what she can find for now, twisting off the top after her minute scrutiny and taking a sip.

aaaand swallowing it down hard because yes, she is surprised by this. a month? she glances around the club, clearly in some awe that all this has been done in nigh on four weeks. impressive and definitely not what she would have done with her time, which has admittedly been... nothing. she's done a big fat nothing but sit in her room and wander, oscillating from sad to angry and back again. ]

Oh, it's fine. It's Norwegian, the accent. And yours is... [ as if she's really gotta think about this one: ] American? [ obvious answer is teasingly obvious. ]

[dramatic]

( mj's eyes grow round as saucers, feigning surprise. it's meant to be elaborate, but if anyone asks, the charm is all natural. )

How did you guess?

( soon enough, her expression shifts back into a bright grin. it's easier to focus on the perks: a closet that gives you anything you want, rooms that turn into whatever you wish, people from all kinds of places -- like Norway! -- instead of the alternative. then again, if mj is honest with herself, other than aunt anna, she's not sure anyone would miss her. and there's really no one to blame but mj. if you want something real, you have to be real, and she's still figuring that part out. )

That's me. American. At least until I get back to Prince Harry.

( is she serious? does she know prince harry? well, no. but mj believes in positive thinking. imagine the ginger babies. )

[sjokolademelk]

[ there's no getting those eyes one over noora: that genuine if effortlessly practiced charm has noora laughing with a brightening gaiety. it may or not not be the first time she's laughed like so in awhile and the act sheds and eschews the weights on her shoulders, on her back. she feels them drop and good riddance.

even if later she pick some parts of those worries and longings up for safe, cherished keeping, for now she's happy to be without them.

also noora will latch onto this familiar reference. finally, someone she can talk to about important things in life. ] Prince Harry, eh? Not into the strong, silent type? [ if she had to choose... ]

[dramatic]

( there's a split second where mary jane hesitates.

not only because of the question, but because noora reminds her of gwen then, with such a ferocity that it's almost a tiny punch in the gut. a rueful smile curves on her lips. her answer is refreshingly honest, because maybe noora is a bit familiar to her too now. ) Maybe a little.

( but! ) Those ones are the real trouble, if you ask me.

[sjokolademelk]

[ her smile falters. just some, but not enough to fade the entirety of light in her eyes. noora knows what it's like to be drawn towards the 'strong, silent' type. there was a time she tried to resist with every bone in her body, and once she gave in...

well, so. she's been in deep.

she leans against the bar then. ]

You don't have to tell me. I have one... maybe coming back to me at home.

[ it feels safer to admit it here: maybe he won't. maybe they were just not going to be. ]

[dramatic]

( and this, too, is refreshing: the lack of expectation. mj isn't good at giving herself over. she does it in slow, painstaking pieces. her mother gave everything. her sister, gayle, gave everything. then they had nothing left. mj vowed she would never live her life for others, the way that they did, but she is also realizing that's a double-edged sword.

she never lets the light in, either. )

Maybe?

( a smile curves on her lips. )

You don't have to tell me either, cutie. But from where I'm standing, if he doesn't, he's one scoop short of an ice cream cone.