+ The Time Has Come, the Time Is Now +

[vitaelamorte]

Who: Everyone in Wonderland!
Where: The chessboard hills
When: Monday, June 11, all day starting at 10:00 AM
Rating: R for (sometimes excessive) violence
Summary: The Queen of Hearts has declared war and the time for battle has come.
The Story:
♥ ICly, the Real Things who will act as pieces volunteered and are led by the Red Queen. The Mirrors were chosen by the Queen of Hearts without being given a choice. The Queen of Hearts announced her choices to her Mirrors very directly, with an order to show up at 10:00 AM on the chessboard, ready to fight. The Red Queen announced her choices more politely, but just as firmly, with a text message sent out over the network listing her pieces and requesting their assistance to protect their fellow Real Things. Characters were not ICly able to respond to this message.

♥ Those pieces who choose to obey the summons will have time to gather any items or weapons they might want to have with them, within reason. Those who don't heed the summons will find themselves suddenly and instantly transported to their square on the chessboard when 10:00 AM rolls around. They will arrive with anything that was on their person at the time, as well as one weapon (whatever it would be normal for them to use). Likewise, any spectators who are not in or around the stands by 10:00 AM will find themselves transported there.

♥ Each player sports an armband, white for the Real Things and Black for the Mirrors, with the shape of their assigned chess piece embroidered in the opposite color. Royalty pieces wear crowns indicative of their status. Should a pawn be promoted to queen, a crown will appear on their head.

♥ Pieces will find that they can't leave their assigned spots until they're told what square to move to by either the Queen of Hearts or the Red Queen. And if they refuse to move, after a couple of moments, an unseen force will scoot them along to their new space.

♥ When threading moves on the board, please find the appropriate top-level under which to comment! It might be helpful to label your thread with which move/encounter you're playing out.

♥ Players on the board can not communicate with those in the stands and vice versa (other than by jumping around and flailing, I guess). However, players on the board can communicate directly with those in squares adjacent to them or with any challenger whose square they share. Since some pieces have a lot of down time, feel free to have them chat with others on the board while they're waiting around.

♥ Directions from the Queens can be assumed. Go ahead and play out moves without waiting for a comment to officially announce them.

♥ The plotting and info post for this log is here.

♥ For your convenience, here are links to the thread headers:

The Donation Box
Pre-Game
The Game - Moves 1-20
The Game - Moves 21-40
The Game - Moves 41-60
The Game - Moves 61-80
The Game - Moves 81-100
The Game - Moves 101-117
The Holding Area
The Stands

Have fun!

Comments

[unwoundtape]

[He's taking it. He's leaving, and he's taking it with him, the selfish bastard. All that footage, as good as lost, while Jay lies sprawled across the ground with a bruised throat and a shattered wrist, unable to do anything about it.]

[He'll never be the Real Jay Merrick. Good. He's got ten times the common sense and a hundred times the resources.]

[And despite that, Jay still can't help but try to get the last word.]

Impatient.

[The last syllable catches, spasms into a cough.]

[But he is, and he ought to know it. Tries to harvest days after he's planted. The Tim on the other side of the glass, on the board, waited nearly twenty seven years before he sent along his first offering. This Tim didn't even last two. And he failed.]

[Impatient. Irresponsible. It won't spread at all at this rate.]

[pseudological]

[Tim?]

[Tim laughs.]

[He doesn't turn. Doesn't halt his stride. Doesn't do much besides roll his shoulders, like the steady ooze of his false calm was never flaked away into ash in an instant, because the bastard managed to get under his skin.]

I guess that's the funny thing.

You always just figured that you knew what I set out to do.

[unwoundtape]

[Tim laughs, like everything's gone back to normal. Like Tim hadn't just shattered Jay's hand and nearly crushed his windpipe for sassing him.]

[He's not wrong, though. Jay assumed he could follow Tim's motives. Jay assumed he would be acting rationally.]

[Keeping Tim fixed in his line of sight, Jay crawls backwards across the ground, injured hand clutched to his chest. He pauses, close enough to be heard and far enough to make escape possible. He can scramble to his feet if he has to. Can run if he has to. He thinks.]

[Jay figured he knew Tim's motives, his goals. Real funny, after today. Now, he's just got one question:]

Do you?

[pseudological]

[His smile is razored, white cut into brown.]

Wouldn't you like to know.

[And he keeps walking - taking the camera with him. Sorry, Jay. You've lost your right to any access to Tim's motives. Why? Because he fucking decided he was done with your shit. Because he moves the goalposts. Because what might fly one day won't fly another.]

[He's done here.]