and in the end if i don't make it on the list [ open ]

[postictal]

Who: Tim Wright and YOU! ...and guest
Where: It's a Wonderful Wonderlandland
When: January 19th - January 23rd
Rating: PG-13 probable
Summary: Tim's ideal world is simple. Incredibly simple. Except for the part where it's impossible.
The Story:

19th - 20th ; fantasy ; give me a boost over heaven's gate

Once he gets over how he has to shade his eyes against the diamond reflection of a too-bright sun, of the pumping lights and blinding colors of what looks like what might've been the end result if Lisa Frank took a couple tabs of acid and decided to start her very own apocalypse, he figures, correctly, that there's probably more to it than this. He prowls the edges of the bubble of increasingly absurd imagery, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It does.

He turns a corner, and there they are.

Sarah's hair falls back in a dark curtain as she laughs at something Seth just said. A little further - he can swear that's Jay there too, squirrely as ever, and the broad shoulders of a silhouette that couldn't belong to anyone but Brian.

But most startling, terrifying, unnatural than anything else, than the fact that they're there at all, is the way they all laugh and grin and joke freely and without abandon.

It's in the way they all look happy.

He doesn't breach that perfect world just yet. If this is his chance to watch what the world might have been without him, then why would he spoil it a second time? He can see them all like this, like they were meant to be, and no matter how thickly the nostalgia might build in his chest, how blindingly the ache of longing might tighten its stranglehold around his throat, he doesn't draw any nearer.

He simply settles down on the grass, draws his knees up beneath his chin, folds his arms around them and...watches.

21st - 23rd ; but i'm a missile that's guided to you;

Of course it wasn't real.

Apparently music is how you're supposed to destroy the things, but he's kind of lacking the instrumentation and an additional pair of willing voices for the sake of the three-part harmony that's supposed to be the kicker here. And, frankly, in his adrenaline-soaked, survivalist state, he doesn't have much of an instinct for memorization of lyrics from the Top Ten Hits From the Nineties listings in an off-brand version of a world not unlike his own.

It's kind of hard to be scared of zombies at this point, though. He'll give Wonderland that much; it sure knows how to desensitize.

He's not doing too badly, all things considered. You'll find him perched just alongside a sluggish river of viscous, rainbow-tinted water, having deftly dug a trench out from the sparkling earth and filled the bottom of the ditch with knitting needles, points up, to catch any one of the slavering horde that decides he looks interesting enough.

It's not a permanent measure by any means, but it's only until he can figure out how to get the busted karaoke machine he's been tinkering worth to start working again.

wildcard ; you're the one habit i just can't kick

[If you want a closed prompt with either Frisk or Tim, let me know here or at arrpee! Just because this is initially a Tim log doesn't mean I can't toss Frisk in if you wanna do something with them! I will match prose or brackets!]

Comments

[punful]

[It's starting to get noisy, which is less than ideal. Even impaled and with their body parts dissolving, these zombies still can make noise--which is just going to attract more of them.]

uh--not too long, i think. i mean...we'd need a third person if we wanted to actually deal with any of them permanently.

[He manages to affix another wire to the proper connection and some sparks pop and jump. The screen flickers and comes to life, though it's also just displaying static.]

we could always use this thing as a noisemaker, if you don't mind abandoning it. set it up somewhere, head in the opposite direction. or...well, i could take it, be a decoy.

[He gives a sort of lopsided grin. It'd be a real pain, but the image of a flock of zombies trying to follow a teleporting noisemaker is kind of amusing.]

do you know where we could easily find a third person?

[postictal]

I don't know where anyone is.

[He could start sending mass texts, but he's not really one for those - and everyone else is doubtless pretty wrapped up in their own harmonizing bullshit. That'd be the simplest solution, but it'd also lead to the most complications, with countless heroic types, he's certain, perfectly willing to be that revered third voice.]

[The problem being that it's stuff like that which simply attracts more attention.]

You know what? Toss the thing, and let's get outta here.

[punful]

okay.

[Neither does Sans. It's a moot point.]

you sure? i could just...teleport it somewhere else. you've got a good set-up here.

[Tim was doing fine until Sans came along. But--no. Not a productive line of thinking. Put it aside.]

i can lure them away. you don't have to leave.

[postictal]

This wasn't supposed to be a permanent set-up anyway.

[He's not, like, emotionally attached to it or anything. It was a stopgap, nothing more, and it's probably a good plan to move on to a more defensible position anyway.]

Look, whatever you plan on doing? Do it quick, so I can get outta here.

[Before these things start forming a bridge with their own corpses.]

[punful]

[Sans pauses long enough to consider the remaining wires in the machine. Alright, then.]

in that case, i have an idea.

[He connects one last wire, and now in addition to static and a horribly flickering screen, there's also garbled lyrics pouring out of the machine.]

there's this pile of rock candy rocks back...that way? [He points somewhat northward.] might be safe. otherwise there's a town that way.

[He points toward some buildings in the distance.]

guess i'll see ya when the event's over.

[With that, he stands up with the karaoke machine and teleports to the opposite side of the river. As soon as he lands, he cranks the volume all the way up to max. The air fills with unholy electronic screeching. The zombies that have already spotted Tim aren't easily distracted, but a good handful of others are immediately attracted by the noise.]

[He teleports again, a little further away from the river, and the plan seems to be working. Zombies are popping up from behind trees and such to investigate the sound. There weren't that many in the area to begin with, but at least most of them are now heading for Sans.]

[postictal]

[...well, that's one way to create a diversion.]

[Maybe it would've been more prudent to say we, so as not to imply that Sans should be going off on his own on what's bound to be a pretty exhausting feat of endurance when "endurance" is really not his strong suit. But at this point - well, he's already out and off, and Tim's still here.]

[So he fends away the last few undead stragglers and gets jogging for the rocky candies.]

[Might as well take the window when it's been provided for him.]