+ 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!

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Comments

R | Warm Bodies | OTA

[keephersafe]

a] outside; gardens

[There's a cat.

R had seen it from the door, and it hadn't moved as he'd approached - shuffling, awkward, and the kind of noisy that usually frightened the more skittish animals away. Beside it, he'd lowered himself to the grass and stretched out on his stomach, close enough to the flowers to see the insects moving amongst them, and the cat still hadn't fled.

If anything, it seems curious about him. He likes that. The cats in the city, when he's seen them, have been mangy, starved things always searching for their next meal. They're no good for the Dead to eat, so they get left alone.

This cat is orange, and large and fluffy, and it's pretending not to notice him. It gets close enough for him to lift a hand and reach out - his fingers close loosely on the back of its neck and stroke down the length of its body.

The purring is immediate. R smiles, and the tip of his finger gently touches to the patch of skin and short hair just above the cat's nose. He speaks.]

Boop.

[Untroubled, he ends up lying on his back with a cat curled up on his chest, the very model of 'can't move, there's a cat asleep on me'. With one hand behind his head and the slightly greyish pallor of his skin, you might be forgiven for mistaking him for really dead.

But then he blinks.]

b] inside; library

[All in all, it's much nicer here than it was in the airport, or in the decaying remains of the city. The ache from his abandonment by Julie is still there, though not as fierce as it was, and he has settled into the idea that maybe what had happened had been for the best. After all, what could he offer to someone as bright and vibrant as Julie?

He'd found the library almost by accident, in mindless wandering that had led him down increasingly unfamiliar corridors all looking the same as the last. At the door, he stands in slack-jawed amazement.

Books are something out of reach for him. Words shift and letters morph into other ones and he can't remember the last time he was able to read anything. It's just another level of detachment, making the Dead's separation from the Living all that more complete. He feels like he used to read a lot, but he doesn't remember enjoying it. The recollection of paper shifting under his fingers flashes in and out in faded greyscale.

He moves through the shelves, occasionally trailing his fingers along the spines of books and enjoying the sensation of it. Occasionally, he pulls one out, but doesn't give it much attention before carefully putting it back.

R would like to remember how to read, but much like his ability to pronounce more than four syllables at a time, it's long gone.]

c] inside; misc. room

[He could tell no one had been in this room for a while simply by the smell - or lack thereof - of life in it. However, what had drawn his attention hadn't been the vacancy, but the gramophone and stack of records clearly visible from the door as he'd opened it.

Music filters out into the hallway - Sinatra, at first, then Dean Martin later, switching now and then between the two. R sits on the floor and sways gently from side to side, eyes closed.]

d] wildcard; meet him anywhere!

a

[avoracious]

[Right, so: this is definitely weird. On the other hand, is it the weirdest thing Ling's experienced in his life? Not even in the top ten. So, sure, when he stumbles across a guy who's apparently dead apart from his lively gaze lying in the garden with a cat on him--what's he gonna do, criticize? No way.]

[Instead, after some scrutiny and thought, he raises a hand in greeting. Even though he's looking down at R, look, he's doing his best.]

Nice cat.

[keephersafe]

[R can't move. Or, rather, he doesn't want to disturb the lively creature sleeping on his chest or remove the faint sensation of a heartbeat pulsing against his ribs from the wrong side. He heard the footsteps approaching and had turned his head, and the hand not tucked behind it lifts in a mimicked greeting.]

Thanks.

[He'd pet it, but... it's asleep. R almost-smiles.]

Not mine.

[avoracious]

You sure? She doesn't agree, I don't think.

[Without waiting for an invitation, Ling crouches, elbows resting on his knees so he can observe the cat better. The cat, for its part, opens one eye just a little bit to look at him, then grumpily closes it again.]

You shouldn't argue with a cat, hey? Cats always win.

[keephersafe]

[He supposes there's a point to be made there. The cat appears to have claimed him for a sleeping spot, at least for now, though who knew what kinds of fickle thoughts might run through its head. This is the point where he knows M would make some kind of comment about women, but R isn't that kind of guy.

The movement is noted, and this time sure he won't startle the animal he rubs his fingers slowly into the thick fur around its neck.]

How do you know... it's a girl?

a

[choosetruth]

[Georgia draws her gun the second what looks like a corpse blinks.

Honestly, it takes everything she has not to draw her gun the second she sees a corpse, since while she may know not all corpses get up here, she has a lifetime of instincts telling her corpses without a bullet hole in the head are going to get up and try to eat you.

Still, while she aims and her finger goes to the trigger, she... hesitates. Hesitating can be a death sentence in the field, but there's something off about this.

If this is a zombie, why hasn't he eaten the cat? And possibly even more confusingly, why isn't the cat running away? Animals don't hang around when there are zombies in the area. They certainly don't sit on them.

Instead of pulling the trigger she says, in a very clear and surprisingly calm voice:]

You have ten seconds to prove you're not going to eat me. Coming any closer than you are disqualifies you.

[She'd throw him a blood test, but she's yet to figure out if they actually work on zombie diseases besides the one from her world. The rules are different here. That makes it dangerous.]

[keephersafe]

[He could smell her the instant she got close enough for the breeze to catch her scent. That undeniable aroma of the Living. It's everywhere here, like a cloying perfume he can't escape from, but coming out here helps him to get away from it.

R doesn't need to look to know she has a gun in her hands - he's been shot at enough times to recognise the sound of one being drawn. He doesn't move, doesn't twitch, just carefully slides his gaze over to her and lifts his eyebrows up very slightly.

... It's a valid question.]

How.. would I prove it..?

[He asks, otherwise not moving a muscle. No point in denying that he'd think about it. She already has him figured out to be even thinking about asking that kind of question.]

[choosetruth]

God fucking damn it.

[It's talking. Actually talking in a way that makes it clear it can understand her. And probably doesn't qualify as an it so much as a he and that means she can't just shoot him. There's someone inside there. Suddenly, it's complicated.

She doesn't lower her gun. Even if killing this guy qualifies as murder, not just putting down the remains of someone already dead, she's willing to do it if he comes closer to her. She doesn't take chances with people who might eat her. But she doesn't shoot.]

What the fuck are you?

[keephersafe]

Dead.

[He says it sure that she knows it, and in a small, slow movement brings his hand up to pet the cat currently using him as a resting spot. His eyes drift away from her, up to the sky again, his memory flaring to life with a pale face and blonde hair and blue eyes, a whispered what are you while the bright glow of her life seeps through the blackened blood he'd smeared across her cheeks to disguise her.

What is he? He's beginning to ask himself the same question.]

But.. different. Changing. Won't hurt you. [A glance.] Promise.

[choosetruth]

[Her skin crawls and she forces herself to take her finger off the triggers before she presses it without thinking. Why isn't the cat running?]

You couldn't if you tried.

[She's used to zombies. They don't scare her. Zombies are a fact of life and they don't really become a threat until they're in a mob. People are the real threat. They're capable of thinking and holding grudges and being creative.

If this zombie can think like a human for some reason, that makes him more dangerous, not less.]

Different how? Because you can hold a conversation? Are all zombies like this where you're from?

[keephersafe]

[R wonders if he's going to die here. He wonders, too why the cat isn't running, but he's enjoying the sensation of it purring against his chest too much to think about it too hard.]

No, not all.. them.

[Some of them, like him, and like M, could speak in splintered and fractured sentences, pushing words through the oozing soup of their thoughts and out into the air. R was stubborn in how he held on to language, how he refused to express himself in mindless grunts and groans. He'd speak, until he was so far gone that he couldn't.]

Most.. don't speak. [He glances at her again. There's something wry in his pewter-grey eyes.] I'm.. 'weird'.

c.

[endingpoint]

[ Jane's figured out a little of what she likes when it comes to music thanks to Kurt. Mama Cass, Patsy Kline - that type of music. When she's walking the halls and hears music, she stops and cants her head to the side, then slowly walks toward it. When she finds the source, she stands in the open doorway, smiling a little. Listening to the song, she waits until it's finished to clear her throat and walk forward a bit. ]

I hope you don't mind if I stay and listen a little?

[ She's wearing a tank top and jeans, so all her tattoos on her chest and arms are visible. ]

If you want, I can go. It's just - I've never heard those songs before, those singers. I liked it.

[keephersafe]

[She startles him.

When she speaks, he freezes mid-sway and snaps his head in her direction, pale, pewter-grey eyes slightly widened. He hadn't expected to be disturbed, but he supposes that was a stupid thing to think, really, when he was playing music with the door open. The people here weren't like the Dead in the airport - they were curious.

For a long moment, words don't come and he stares at her like an idiot, then he nods quickly.]

Sure. This is.. Dean Martin.

[endingpoint]

[ At first she's not sure how he's going to react, and then she's more curious about him than the music. Jane walks in and sits, cross-legged on the floor across from him. ]

I've never heard of him. I don't think I have, anyway.

[ She reaches for the record sleeve and looks at it, turning it over to read the songs on the back. ]

Is this music from your time, or do you just...like it?

[keephersafe]

[R shrugs as the record needle hisses briefly over a groove between songs and then breaks into the opening bars of Arrivederci Roma. He squirms inwardly under the mild scrutiny of her gaze and looks down at his hands rather than meet her eyes.]

I like it. [He couldn't tell her the year it was from. He couldn't tell her what year he was from.]

It feels.. alive.

[endingpoint]

[ She has a lot of questions. But she also doesn't to just...assume anything. Listening to the song, Jane makes sure to not stare at him, even though he's really pale, he seems to be going at a slower pace than, well. Anyone she knows. ]

Have you been in Wonderland very long?

[keephersafe]

[He opens his mouth, then closes it again and congratulates himself for not leaving his jaw on the ground. R thinks about it, then settles on-]

No.

[She's still looking. He peers up at her, almost shyly.]

A few days.

b

[mr_englishguy]

[The Library is a place that Newt spends much of his time. Curious about what might be new, what worlds he might read about that were once part of a book and were now truly from another world. Another world where he knew the people from that world now.

It's there among the shelves that he finds he's not alone. Pausing, a tome in his hand, he looks up and smiles at the man. Pausing only long enough to take in how he looks, that he's certainly not entirely like anyone that Newt knows, his smile only widens.]

So glad to find I'm not the only one that enjoys this place.

[Even if he had to stop a mirror here, and worried those that watched over the library blamed him for the things that happened that day.]

[keephersafe]

[It's quiet, but he's not so absorbed in what he's doing that he didn't realise he wasn't alone. The voice comes as little surprise, as he slides another book back into its place on a shelf, and the corners of his lips turn up in the faintest of smiles.]

It's nice. Quiet.

[He stares hard at the spine of one of the books, looking at the markings on the spine that he knows are letters and willing them to become words. Instead they swim, drifting back and forth without ever turning into something that makes sense.

R knows better. He gives up.]

Didn't mean to.. bother you.

[mr_englishguy]

[Newt nods in agreement, giving R a small smile. It's one of the things that brings him there nearly daily.]

It truly is. This place is amazing, but sometimes I need this. Something familiar.

[Especially given the year he last knew, having something so familiar was helpful on days when Wonderland got rough. Not the events, but being there in general.

His gaze follows the other man's, taking in his pallor, the expression on his face.]

Oh no. You're not. Not at all. In fact, is there anything I can help you with?

[keephersafe]

[Something familiar. The library isn't a familiar place - the most books R usually sees in anything like good condition are the ones in the airport bookshop - but something about it drew him in.

He feels himself being examined and averts his eyes. Even cleaned up and dressed in clothes that haven't been falling apart for several years, he can't quite pass for Living.]

No, nothing.

[There's a twinge of embarrassment attached to the idea of saying out loud that he can't read, so he keeps it in.] I'm just looking. Enjoying the... [And here he braces himself slightly.] ... atmosphere.

[Nailed it.]

[mr_englishguy]

[He's certainly different, though Newt hasn't quite put together how or why. Stories he's heard from others don't match up at all with R, so he's more worried he's sick in another way than that he's something he's heard from many but nothing like this.]

I don't blame you for that. Not in the least. I love libraries. There's one in the youth center as well. I suspect some others may have their own, and I've thought to try and put one together based on the worlds we all come from.

Do you have a favorite book?

[He can't help but to be chatty, to want to get to know those he's never met before. It's always so interesting getting to know others.]

[keephersafe]

[The longer they stand together, the more uncomfortable and out of sorts R starts to feel. It isn't like him to maintain conversation - the longest he's had recently have been with Julie, and even then they have been limited by his ability to respond. This man talks quickly, and R's brain trips over understanding him, focusing on some words and not others and missing the meaning of the sentences in the process.

But there's a question, and he clings to that. It's not a question he can answer, but...

He shakes his head, glancing off down the line of books. A reply comes to his lips almost unbidden.]

I prefer music.

[Good going, R, you almost sound like a live human.]

c - because one cute music loving zombie boy should totally meet another music loving zombie boy

[livingdeadboy]

[ Sahu's a fan of rock, but he's got real love for music of all sorts... except that one really weird country cover of Purple Rain... that thing was a travesty. Either way he's wandering around, not finding anyone or anything of really any interest. At least not until the sound of music catches his ear.

It's not really what he's into but poking his head into the room he can definitely appreciate that the guy sitting on the floor seems to be enjoying it so much. He can't even bring himself to say anything and disturb him.

But Sahu's never been good at standing still and doing nothing for very long. So after tapping his foot a few seconds he swings his guitar off his back, strums it a couple times to get a feel for the tune, and then starts playing along with the record. ]

:O

[keephersafe]

[He doesn't notice him. No surprise, really, but it's enough of a surprise to R when the sound of a guitar that he definitely doesn't remember being in the record begins. R opens his eyes - pewter grey - and looks quickly to the source of the sound.

At first, he doesn't understand why he didn't realise he was being watched. That he didn't realise someone was there... but he is not a stranger to the idea of some zombies being different to himself. This is another one like him, but not like him, and he watches the way that Sahu's fingers move deftly over the strings and frets with a kind of envy and wonders how he knew what they were without asking.

R doesn't speak, only listens.]