entrancelogs | Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore | OPEN

Who: E V E R Y O N E (Including our 4th wall guests!)
Where: Everywhere, one both Mirror and Real Side!
When: December 12th - December 18th (WEEK ONE)
Rating: PG-13, warn if going higher
Summary: This year's Ewaymas celebration rolls out the way it usually does, with intense decorating, a sudden snowfall and...far more arrivals than usual! New faces and old fill the mansion - but why would Wonderland bring so many people at once? And why do some of them remember Wonderland?
The Story:

On the evening before December 12th, the captives of Wonderland might be awoken by a loud commotion. Some of it is typical Ewaymas noise, likely familiar to anyone who has been in Wonderland for more than a year – construction sounds and jingle bells as Wonderland decks its own halls quite literally. Garland and lights race down the walls and down the stairs, and stockings appear on the walls for each and every person in Wonderland, embroidered with their names. There are decorative candles everywhere, and all sorts of decorations for every conceivable winter holiday, even if it does not align perfectly to the dates of Ewaymas. Time isn't real, so there will be menorahs and dreidels and Star of Davids even though Hanukkah ended two days prior. And of course, in the front hall, growing straight out of the floor, is a large decorated tree full of ornaments for everyone. And as always, it will have snowed heavily overnight, bringing all of the snow Wonderland will have between now and spring.

There is a second source of commotion in the night though – the sound of a crowd.

Over the course of the night, dozens of new arrivals will appear in Wonderland. Some for the first time. Some wondering how they managed to return with their memories. Others stumbling in with no recollection of ever having been here. Some might be friends from other timelines, other possibilities, and some might even be doubles of people who are already in Wonderland. It's strange for Wonderland to drag so many people into the mansion at once, but everything seems to indicate that they are supposed to be there. They have their own network devices and even have their own stockings on the wall and their own ornaments on the tree – by all accounts, it seems Wonderland expects that they'll be staying, and is treating them like any other new arrivals. Please, make them feel at home and help them settle in nicely.

The first few days will be for catching up with old friends and enjoying the decorations and settling into Wonderland. However, within a couple of days the decorations will start to glitch, much the way corrupted computer graphics might. Lights might change abruptly from multi-color to blue or white, entire décor styles will abruptly change, candle flames will flicker on and off like broken fluorescent lights, and any singing decorations might loop on a beat or two over and over putting you into an eternal hell. Wonderland doesn't seem to be able to stick to one motif, and it can't stop changing. These glitches are occurring on both the Real Side of Wonderland and the Mirror Side.

By the 15th, these glitches will include entire rooms changing into different holiday scenes. These scenes will all be of characters at various winter holidays in the past, the present (in their world), or a possible future. At this point in the event, characters will still be able to navigate the basic mansion and be able to exit these moments easily. These scenes cannot be interacted with – Wonderland seems to consider them another form of decorating. Unlike previous events of this type, these scenes will not loop at first. They will play once, and then Wonderland will glitch and correct itself to be the room it is supposed to be. The scene might play again, but it will be in a different location if it does.

By this point, Wonderland is having an increasingly difficult time holding itself together in a way that makes geographical sense. You might exit one room, even a room that was not previously playing a scene, and find yourself in the kitchen or on the roof instead of in the hallway. You might open a door that you were sure led to your room only to see a ten foot drop to the grounds outside.

This is the mingle log for WEEK ONE! For more information on this part of the event or any questions, please head over to the plot post, or check out our Fourth Wall Master Post for your other Fourth Wall event needs! Prose or [action brackets] are welcome. Please clearly indicate whether your character is on the Real Side or Mirror Side in your top levels. And of course, have fun! ♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's harder like this.]

[It's not a thought he intends to have consciously. It's not something he wants to process, necessarily. The thoughts just breeze past the texture of his mind while he's doing this, trying to squeeze out the life of someone he might have once called his friend. It's harder than if he'd just had a goddamn gun.]

[He doesn't. He dropped it. He dropped it, which means that this is why it has to be like this.]

You couldn't leave any of it alone, [Alex growls, grinds it out between clenched teeth. He's doing what has to be done. Can't you see that?] You brought all this back into our lives!

[Jay scrambles back across the floor, trying to put distance between himself and Alex. It's hard, though, with the screaming pain in his neck, the way his balance keeps wavering.]

I didn't leave it alone? [His voice cracks, as a jolt of pain shoots up his jaw. It's an unfamiliar motion, now. He's been quiet for so long.] What were you doing, walking straight into Rosswood, and--!

[And falling. Kneeling at its feet.]

Why'd it show up at your house?

[It's barely an argument. That thing was in his hallway, standing over his half-conscious body, months before it showed up at Alex's.]

[Or, at least, that's what the footage implies.]

[The footage Alex sent him. The footage totheark sent him. All writing is in the edit; they could have made it say anything they want.]

Because you brought it to me. Brought it back. You were supposed to forget, but you had to go looking for answers.

[Slathered those videos online. Unspooled the mystery for everyone to see.]

[He has no direct proof to back the words, of course. He only has his glower, his words, his scrabbling fury. He's still regaining his sense of coordination, postmortem. It's been a hell of a lot longer than three days.]

[He's stumbling to his knees. Jay makes himself hard to pin down. If he could just wrap his fingers around that skinny fucking neck of his and hold him - ]

Oh, forget? I was supposed to forget?

[He slows, fury overtaking common sense.]

[He doesn't notice he's inches from the wall behind him.]

When you--you strangled me and left me in the middle of the woods, that was the goal? Just making me forget?

It worked.

[At least until he dug those tapes up again.]

[(Why'd you let him keep them, Kralie? Why didn't you just - why couldn't you just - )]

You dragged that shit all back up again, and you went off sharing it with the world, and you expected that to go over well? [He's standing now, and Jay's inches from the wall. He plants hands in the center of his chest and shoves, trying to pin him back.]

[The back of his head slams against the wall. Shit. Shit, he's trapped.]

[Acting on dumb instinct, he reaches up, grabs onto Alex's arms to shove them away.]

[Roll with disadvantage => min(20, 4) => 4]

[It doesn't accomplish a damn thing. He's pinned.]

Look, that-- [He struggles.] That thing is out there, Alex, no matter what shit anybody drags up. You think it's better if people don't know what the hell's going on? Or--or what's happening to them?

[Tim missed three weeks of work, woke up with a broken leg, and if not for Jay, he never would have known why.]

[But it doesn't matter how right Jay is if Alex is going to reach over and snap his neck regardless. Can't guarantee this Christmas is going to be as fatality-free as the last one.]

[Jay's weedy but he's wiry, and he's capable of keeping Alex at bay through virtue of adrenaline alone.]

The only way it goes away is if no one brings it up. I got out. I was out. And then you show up, you go dredging it all back up, and it came back. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you!

[There are words gummed up in his throat, behind his teeth. Words about the life he managed to build far from the rest, about the life that he had that was idyllic by simple virtue of being a life at all.]

[He blames you for Amy, by the way.]

Get off me!

[Jay growls, shoving back against Alex. He thinks--he seriously thinks this is Jay's fault? He seriously thinks one stupid little Youtube channel caused all this? He seriously thinks Jay's got anything to do with that thing?]

[~~The timing's a little too close, isn't it?~~]

I'm not the one pointing a gun at people.

[He blames you for Jessica, by the way.]

This won't end until you're dead!

[He says the same words, the same broken phrases. It's what he clings to. It's the spark that keeps him warm. It's all he has left, most days. It's all he has left now. It's all he has.]

No. You're just pointing a camera at every little thing you see. Share it all with the world, right?

[How does that help anybody?]

[If Jay didn't already have solid proof Alex Kralie was one of his viewers--honestly, one of his subscribers, probably--that'd do it. Everything's getting mixed up. Nothing belongs to anyone anymore; not when everyone's experienced the same memories. Not when the only memories anyone's got to pass around are his. Alex watching Jay watching Tim talk about watching Jay watch Alex, while totheark--while Brian watches from the bushes.]

Killing me isn't gonna fix anything! [He's always been a bad liar.] Especially not here!

Five times.

[He bares his teeth. They're still stained pink from when his insides roiled up and oozed out from his mouth, his organs sliced from shards of broken glass.]

That's all it takes.

[Jay's stomach lurches for a moment, fighting down the sick curiosity that bubbles to the surface when he sees the state of Alex's teeth. What happened to him?]

[Tim, or something here?]

[Alex's information must be out of date, though. Makes sense, given the timeline the Commander offered him. Jay holds onto that, the one piece of leverage he's still got.]

I mean, not really. [He pauses, for no other reason than dramatic effect. Alex's bullshit must be contagious.] Commander Shepard, you remember her?

[Those are the magic words.]

[A skip in his chest, like a shiv to his guts. Like every knife that's ever slit into his abdomen.]

[It's not fair.]

[It's not fair that he knows her. It's not fair that he can call her up fucking effortlessly. It's not fair that he can say Commander Shepard and he can remember the vibrant red of her hair and the way the dark of the Mako hid the tension in her shoulders and the way she called him kid and how he left her a gun that she said she'd silence for him - ]

[He doesn't let go, but his grip slackens.]

How do you know her.

[It isn't a question.]

[Jay sees the way Alex's eyes cloud over, feels the way his grip slackens.]

[Shepard talked about him so fondly, like they were really friends.]

[Jay takes the opportunity and shoves.]

[He doesn't expect it. He stumbles back, reeling, curses under his breath. He's grabbing for a gun he doesn't have. He's struggling to seize a knife he doesn't carry.]

Get back here -

[But there's murder in his eyes again. Well and truly.]

[Wrong move. Somehow.]

[Can't we just talk? a distant, hysterical part of him asks. That part of him is stupid, though, and he tries to ignore it.]

[Jay bolts up the staircase, taking the steps two, three at a time. He doesn't realize where he's going until his hand's on the door handle.]

[The theater.]

[It's a dead end, sure, but it's one he knows. And, more importantly, the projectionist's booth at the back has got a door with a solid, deadbolt lock. So it's a plan. Not one of his better ones, but it's a plan.]

[He scrambles inside. Too bad this door doesn't have a lock, too.]

[Alex follows. He's not at that point in time just yet. He doesn't know the agonizing, frustrated slow burn of always being several steps behind a pair of incompetent detectives who telegraph all their movements on YouTube. He only knows how it felt to string Jay along, waiting for his internal debate to boil down to a conclusion he already knew he'd have to come to.]

[But he follows anyway. Charges after, weaponless, because he doesn't have anything on him, because he dropped the gun when Bill stabbed him. He'll strangle the bastard if he has to. He'll do whatever he has to.]

[He doesn't take in his surroundings. He doesn't care. He just plows furiously forward.]

[He hears the theater doors creak behind him; not much time. He just has to get up the steps, has to get the door to the projectionist's booth locked behind him.]

[Simple.]

[1D20 => 11]

[He stumbles on the steps, enough to narrow the gap between them, but he reaches the door, throwing it shut behind him with an echoing crack.]

[Lock, lock--shit, it's too dark to see the deadbolt. He feels for it, trying to hold the door shut with his weight.]

[Door slams. He powers after the noise, ends up slamming palms first into it. He feels for a doorknob, scrambling for a lock, trying to wrench it open, anything - ]

You can't run forever! [The words are heat and adrenaline pressed up against the back of his throat, heavy and panting from exertion. There's a handle, but Jay's thrown his weight up against the door. He starts hammering at it with his shoulder, with his fists, slamming his full body weight up against it.]

[1D20 => 9]

[Oh god. Oh god, he's trying to force his way in. Where's the lock?]

[Alex slams his full weight against the door, and it feels like the whole wall shudders. Jay's wrist aches from holding the doorknob in place, and his head throbs. He can't leave, though, and there's nothing within reach to barricade the door. It's just him.]

This isn't gonna fix anything! [He grips the doorknob with both hands. Needs a hand to feel for the lock, but he can't now. Has to wait for an opening.] You know what happens after the fifth time?

Everything ends.

[No. He doesn't know. He just assumes that five times is the magic number. That's what everyone says. Maybe, at that point, you stop reviving. You just depart, well and truly. Maybe for good. Put him in the fucking dirt, then. Let it be the end of it.]

[See if that makes it better.]

[He's still got a white-knuckle grip on the doorknob.]

It's wrong. What they told you back then, it's wrong. Shepard--

[1D20 => 1]

[He reaches for the lock, and his other hand slips.]

[Slips enough to turn the knob.]

[Slips enough to crack the door open.]

[Shepard, he says, throwing her name to the ground like a gauntlet, like a talisman. Hatred unfurls, heat coiling under his chest like a smoking gun, powering him forward. The door slips open a crack and he slams into it full force.]

[His glower is shadowed by the uneven falling of his hair into his eyes, his teeth bared.]

[Static rips across the words, the ripcord-buzz of rage tunneled through digital filters.]

She isn't going to fucking s̩̹̣a̛͌ͣv̲᷁̿ê̞̅ y̦͒̏o᷊ͤͣu̬̠̣.

[The door slams open, hard enough to damage the wall behind, hard enough to bruise Jay's arm as he stumbles back.]

Alex--

[It's nearly inaudible, swallowed by the way Alex's voice splits.]

[That's not the right word for it. Distorts isn't either; this isn't a corrupt video file, isn't a tape marred with magnetic interference. It doesn't sound exactly like any of it, doesn't line up with anything he's heard before. He's not sure he's hearing it now, not all of it. All Jay knows is that it's wrong; it's completely wrong.]

[And he's trapped.]

[It's not a plan; it's barely anything. He's not thinking. He just--reaches over to one of the flimsy racks of equipment (media players from an infinite multiverse, machines he'd like to preserve if he weren't about to be murdered) and, with all of his panicked strength, yanks on it. Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll slow Alex down.]

[1D20 => 18]

[[Disclaimer: I started to suspect the roller I was using would default to 11, since I kept getting 11s, so I tried another one. We can treat this roll as an 11 or an 18.]]

[Bloodlust-blind and snarling, he doesn't see it coming. He doesn't see anything but the pale blot of Jay moving steadily away from him, trying to escape, and then something crashes down on top of him. Plastic and metal equipment showering over his outflung hands and something slams into his temple with enough weight to make him see stars.]

[He shouts. The words aren't words at all; they're just formless half-curses, vague and split at the ends.]

[It nearly trips him to the floor. He throws it off with enough force to send it crashing into something else.]

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jay merrick: rolling useless 20s since the d&d event

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let's roll dice, i said. it'll be fun, i said.

LAUGHS

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