Grendel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oneagainstall) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2018-03-13 08:16 pm
oneagainstall) wrote in entrancelogs2018-03-13 08:16 pm
[Open] If you are the dealer
Who: Gren and you
Where: The entrance hall, then ALL the bars
When: 13th March
Rating: PG13/R for threats of violence and swearing. So much swearing.
Summary: A one armed monster dressed as a human walks into a magical mansion. Hijinks ensue. (Will match format)
The Story:
[The Entrance Hall]
[Gren has had a shitty-ass week. What with one of his friends being murdered, getting shot in the face and having his arm ripped off again- it's not been a super fun happy time for him. Sure, his injuries have mostly healed (well, except for the arm, but there's nothing that's getting done about that) but he's still pretty goddamn tired. The absolute last thing he needed was to find himself in a strange building.
Briefly, he thought it might be some hidden annex of the Woodlands- maybe he zoned out and took a wrong turn or something. That place was a fucking labyrinth at the best of times. But no...no there were too many mundies around. Something was desperately wrong here, and he was in no mood to deal with this bullshit. He stands there, for a moment, staring around him with his (seemingly) one functioning eye, before snarling and turning, grabbing whichever poor soul happens to be within arm's reach- gripping them tightly by their shoulder and hoisting them nearer.]
Just what in the fuck is goin' on here?
[All the bars]
[Gren eventually realises there's bars in this fucking hellhole and he heads straight for them. For the rest of the night, he moves through them, trying them out for size. To be the perfect watering hole for him, they need to be the perfect balance of quiet and dive. Somewhere most other people would take one look at and move on as quickly as possible. He doubts he'll get exactly that, but then there is only one Trip Trap. He'll just have to live with what he can get.
He can be found at various points at the night, sitting on a bar stool, whiskey nearby- staring at the pamphlet explaining where he is, finding it more and more insane the more he re-reads it. Wonderland is gone. It got swept up in the Adversary's takeover just like the rest of the Homelands did. Hell, he knows for a fact the fucking Tweedles aren't little girls- not unless they're wearing glamours. He wouldn't put that past those sick fucks, honestly.
He tends to not engage in conversation, certainly not when he's settling down for a long night of drinking. But he's in a place that's not what everyone thinks it is, and it's getting under his skin. So, he'll turn to whoever has come close enough to his chosen corner, tapping the pamphlet with his index finger.]
So. Are we supposed to just buy this fuckin' Wonderland spiel or what? I'm not the only one that sees it's bullshit, right?
Where: The entrance hall, then ALL the bars
When: 13th March
Rating: PG13/R for threats of violence and swearing. So much swearing.
Summary: A one armed monster dressed as a human walks into a magical mansion. Hijinks ensue. (Will match format)
The Story:
[The Entrance Hall]
[Gren has had a shitty-ass week. What with one of his friends being murdered, getting shot in the face and having his arm ripped off again- it's not been a super fun happy time for him. Sure, his injuries have mostly healed (well, except for the arm, but there's nothing that's getting done about that) but he's still pretty goddamn tired. The absolute last thing he needed was to find himself in a strange building.
Briefly, he thought it might be some hidden annex of the Woodlands- maybe he zoned out and took a wrong turn or something. That place was a fucking labyrinth at the best of times. But no...no there were too many mundies around. Something was desperately wrong here, and he was in no mood to deal with this bullshit. He stands there, for a moment, staring around him with his (seemingly) one functioning eye, before snarling and turning, grabbing whichever poor soul happens to be within arm's reach- gripping them tightly by their shoulder and hoisting them nearer.]
Just what in the fuck is goin' on here?
[All the bars]
[Gren eventually realises there's bars in this fucking hellhole and he heads straight for them. For the rest of the night, he moves through them, trying them out for size. To be the perfect watering hole for him, they need to be the perfect balance of quiet and dive. Somewhere most other people would take one look at and move on as quickly as possible. He doubts he'll get exactly that, but then there is only one Trip Trap. He'll just have to live with what he can get.
He can be found at various points at the night, sitting on a bar stool, whiskey nearby- staring at the pamphlet explaining where he is, finding it more and more insane the more he re-reads it. Wonderland is gone. It got swept up in the Adversary's takeover just like the rest of the Homelands did. Hell, he knows for a fact the fucking Tweedles aren't little girls- not unless they're wearing glamours. He wouldn't put that past those sick fucks, honestly.
He tends to not engage in conversation, certainly not when he's settling down for a long night of drinking. But he's in a place that's not what everyone thinks it is, and it's getting under his skin. So, he'll turn to whoever has come close enough to his chosen corner, tapping the pamphlet with his index finger.]
So. Are we supposed to just buy this fuckin' Wonderland spiel or what? I'm not the only one that sees it's bullshit, right?
best time ever boy howdy
[That...is not the answer he was expecting. His brow furrows as he looks around the room, then casually leans to peer towards the door- to the outside which looks pleasant and distinctly not conquered. There was no way in fucking hell this was Wonderland. ]
Fuck off. This ain't Wonderland. What shit have you people been huffing to believe that story?
no subject
[He doesn't get the reference but whatever, it's probably accurate.]
[Now that the guy has proved himself to just be an angry newbie, Rick digs into a coat pocket and pulls out a flask. He takes a big ol' swig.]
What, like W-Wonderland actually existing is the, the most unbelievable thing in all existence? It's either real, o-or it's a pocket dimension with an aesthetic, o-or it's a computer simulation, or some lotus e-eater shit, or it's a really complex shared dream. Either way, w-we're in another dimension, magic is real, and w-we can die multiple times. The details don't fucking m-AUURRRRPP-tter that much in the day-to-day.
no subject
What, death don't stick here?
[It doesn't always for Fables, but that's a very, very different thing. Mundies usually get the one shot and that's that.]
Fuckin' fabulous. This is just fukcin' peachy. So we're stuck in this crazy not-Wonderland-probably [definitely ] shithole? No way out?
no subject
Bars on the fourth floor, fifth floor, and there's like a night club run by literally Satan on the sixth floor, I think. And no, it's like a v-video game or some shit, everyone g-gets five lives. Just read the fucking pamphlet, i-it's around here somewhere.
[Rick has half a mind to put up some kind of freaking neon sigh over the front door that says READ THE MANUAL on it or something.]
Nooooo way out. I've been here two and a half years, s-so get comfortable. If I can't find a way out of here, n-no one can.
no subject
[He won't and you can't make him. ]
Well, shit. I got people I gotta get fuckin' back to and this is some grade A bullshit I don't fuckin' need right now.
no subject
Yeah, whatever, w-we all got shit we gotta get back to. You're not special. Wonderland spits everyone out eventually, and then you go back to the e-e-exact moment you left without any memory of this place. So all the bullshit is s-self-contained at least.
no subject
[Oh wonderful. Time bullshit. ]
Fuckin' marvellous. So we just get to sit here, twiddling our thumbs going "well, golly jee shit, what a curiouser and curiouser thing to happen to me, oh well, just going to wait til Wonderland lets me go home". What a crock of bullshit.
no subject
no subject
[It's not a completely hostile 'Fuckface' so that's something. ]
Shit, I dunno. Guess I'll go back to sittin' in a bar and drinkin'. That's my fuckin' go to hobby.
no subject
[All these idiots who don't know about cybernetic prosthetics, GOD.]
There you fucking go. Hobby f-for the ages.
no subject
[He rolls his eyes. Fuck's saaaaaake. ]
It won't stick, you Assbag.
no subject
[This is his version of being nice, wow!!!!!]
What, is it some bullshit magic? Curse shit? H-Have you tried gorilla glue?
no subject
[He'd be more insulted, but this is about as nice as he gets, too. ]
It's a complicated mess I like to call None Of Your Fuckin' Business.
no subject
no subject
[Best friends, clearly. ]