entrancelogs | ( semi-open ) love is a many splendored thing

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( semi-open ) love is a many splendored thing

Who: Everyone who signed up for SHIPPING
Where: All around Wonderland! See below for specific locations.
When: Tuesday, September 9, evening
Rating: PG13 just to be safe, but if anything gets steamy (she hopes it does), I can up the rating.
Summary: Becky sets Wonderlanders up on blind dates. Also, will be image heavy.
The Story:

You receive a letter under your door sometime on the afternoon of Tuesday, September 9. This letter will be addressed to you in fancy script (Becky's best attempt at calligraphy) from a "secret admirer." You might be wondering, but it isn't February! What's with all the romantic nonsense? Well, my good friend, romance can be celebrated on more than just one day out of the year. That day happens to be today. The letter will ask you to meet your secret admirer at 6PM at a designated location. You'd best not be late! A night of romance (and perhaps even intimacy) awaits you! At least, she hopes so...

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the stars at night are big and bright

[ a blanket is spread out for them on the crest of a hill; next to it is a telescope and various star charts that they are welcome to try and make sense of. ]

[Jane tried to stay under the radar after Saturday night's little fiasco, wondering exactly what the fallout would be. It was a little bit jarring to get a note with unfamiliar writing and a time and place, considering the timing. But, Jane wasn't going to be rude enough to ditch. She wore cute booties and a dress, and tucked a smaller version of Darcy's taser in her purse before making her way to the place in her note, shoving down flashbacks of Richard and London. Darcy was not going to rescue her this time.]

[ Philip stares at the note with the same kind of enthusiasm and affection he reserves for monthly bills, dead spiders in his kitchen, or unexpected cases of food poisoning.

Its timing could not have been worse, and given its contents Philip decisively declares the person he would normally ask for advice in such matters unavailable. Left to make up his own mind he gets as far as to rule out a prank (because who does he even know that would pick this particular flavour of nuisance?), as well as a missed event announcement (not this time, he was paying attention).

As the possibilities narrow the solution becomes increasingly obvious: Somebody is trying to lure him into a trap and kill him! Granted, it has to be the strangest and most pathetic lure he has ever seen, but it still dangles at the end of a cold killer's fishing rod. But what to do with knowledge like that? Pass the letter along to one of the investigators, perhaps, or discard it and forget he ever received it. Either way, clearly the most sensible course of action must be to steer clear of the proposed time and place under all circumstances.

...The next day Philip arrives near the proposed place, one hour before the proposed time. The hill is within observational distance of the forest, and that was the killer's first mistake. With plenty of time to spare Philip settles down in the bushes at the edge of the forest, camping comfortably in shrubbery disguise with a pair of binoculars and his trusty silver-bulleted gun. Even silent and motionless the time passes quickly, and Philip perks up as soon as a silhouette appears on top of the hill.

The silhouette of a woman.

A woman whose name he thinks he knows.

A woman who looks nothing like a killer, and everything like...

Like a woman waiting for the other half of her date to arrive.

Philip lets the binoculars slip from his hands, his face grown white as a sheet, his eyes open wide with a sense of terror and fear he has not felt in months. Because underneath his skin his blood suddenly runs cold as ice, because despite his impeccable reasoning there is one scenario he has failed to take into account.

Because, Jesus Christ, it could be an actual bloody love letter.

Crawling hurriedly from the undergrowth to the cover of a nearby tree he presses his back against the trunk. Time to rethink his original strategy. All circumstances considered 'observe, surprise, shoot' probably doesn't seem quite the appropriate response anymore. Probably.

He feels the communication device in his pocket. For a second a SEND HELP text message seems awfully tempting. So does sinking back into the bushes, and waiting for her to leave. Maybe both? Maybe texting her that he won't-- Christ, no, what is he thinking? Sure, he expected to catch a killer or die trying, but this isn't the teenager event anymore, and the least he can do is let her know that he's not interested.

To her face.

On that hill.

Over there.

Philip takes a breath so deep he thinks he might have inhaled a nearby branch, and brushes a few stray twigs and leaves off his clothes. Then he forces himself to stand up straight, and steps out from behind his cover, head held high, approaching the hills as fast as possible. ]

Um. Hello!

[ he calls out and waves from a distance. He glances back at the forest nervously. Right, about that. Philip reaches the hill in a hurry and adds, as soon as he is close enough to be heard without shouting: ]

...Sorry, um. I got- I got here a bit early, so I... so I've been taking a walk to pass the time. Um. Hello again.

[ This is going to be his fifth death after all, isn't it? ]

[Unless he plans on running her over, I doubt it will be a fifth death. Thor didn't do anything to Richard, after all.

Jane turns, eyebrow up. Oh, she knew his face. Lunch in the kitchen, some pasta dish. The name was a little slower, but she pulled it up.]

Phillip? Oh dear.

[A sinking feeling, but she was half English. Manners, y'know, and she wasn't going to have hysterics, or even be mean. He was harmless, so far, and she did have a taser in her purse if he got ideas of trying to hurt her.]

See, I got a letter giving just a place and a time, and well, I thought I should at least show up. You got the same one? I thought it was because I was a little bit of an over-sharer on the network, but if you got one, too. Well. Someone's got a plan.

Erm, listen--

[ No. No, wait, what?! Philip should probably listen to this first, and then transition to looking slightly more relieved, but a great deal more confused than before.

No, but- but it makes sense, she didn't look at all like she was expecting him and particular, and she probably should have, if she'd written the letter, but really, she looks about as enthusiastic about the idea as he did which on second thought actually stings a bit for a second there, all right, fair point. ]

Wait, so- so you didn't send this-- [ He fishes the crumbled up letter from his pocket. ] this thing either? So somebody--

[ He looks around warily, as if expecting somebody to jump out at them at any second. ]

Somebody else tricked us here for a date, am I- is that the general idea?

[Jane was hard pressed to keep her face straight and neutral, dearly wishing she could sit on the blanket and just bust a gut laughing. But he might be insulted, and well, that would be bad. She can cope with awkward. Not massively bruised egos. And well, he might also have a slight bruise from the fact she didn't actually have feelings for him.

Well maybe his pasta, but then again, anyone who was competent in the kitchen was a plus in her book.

Jane nodded.]

Got a letter with a date and time and place, and I found this already set up. I have to admit I'm really curious about the star charts. I haven't found many since I've been here in Wonderland. I mean, if you want? We could sit here for a little bit while I poke at these charts. I'll feel better if I had someone with me.

[ Philip looks around with a somewhat freshly startled expression, and makes a quiet noise that can be vaguely transcribed as 'euuhwssamchaerruhhh'. Translated into English it might give voice to his doubts regarding this entire set-up, a cautious inquiry about whether it might not be prudent to find the culprit behind their meeting first, should their intentions be far less romantic and far more homicidal in their nature after all.

Yet the scope of his original misconception still sits very firmly at the front of his mind, obstructing any wariness and doubt with a large sign proclaiming MAYBE IT'S NOT AS BAD AS ALL THAT in bold letters. With it so firmly in place, and given enough awkward pause and consideration, even Philip can finally bring himself to say, in plain English no less: ]

--Fair enough. Um. Sure. Sure, we- we could do that. I wonder which world the charts are from, because- because for all I know, um, the constellations here, they're... they're not real, that is, they don't resemble ours, the ones we see from Earth, not- not to my knowledge.

[ He looks from Jane to the charts, the carefully arranged setting on the hill, and after one last survey of the surrounding area finally takes a seat on the blanket. ]

[Jane watched Phillip practically brown out from the entire situation, and sympathetic, for she could understand the who awkward and suspicion. Who would actually do this elaborate setting and not have something else planned? But Jane knew she was okay, and if she could be around Phillip with knives, she could cope now.

Sinking to the blanket, she arranged her dress over her knees, before grabbing one of the charts, squinting at it.]

Oh, quite. Could be from a multitude of Earths or even the stars over worlds not Earth. Lots of different worlds to pick from, to be honest.

[ There is only so much sense he could make of the chart from studying it himself, so Philip opts for a cursory glance only, after which he sticks to holding down the paper at the other end, to give Jane a steadier look ]

That was-- No, they could be, they definitely could be, but- but actually what I was um, what I was getting at, what if the entire thing was artificial? I haven't even started thinking about the how, but isn't it a bit of an odd coincidence that the sun and- and more importantly the moon we know corresponds to that one exactly, but as soon as you start taking an in-depth look the resemblance stops, like--

[ He stops to consider the phrasing. ]

As if somebody was hoping we wouldn't look too closely.

[Jane looked up at Phillip's words, then she shifted to her knees, squinting at the chart, then back up at him. She settled back on her heels, her hands going to her hips as she stared at the fake charts.]

Like they were hoping for something else to occupy our attention. I have an idea.

[she pursed her lips] That's rather creative, you know, if creepy.

So it just about matches Wonderland's tagline then.

[ Wonderland - Creative, If Creepy. Free Room, Board, and Psychological Trauma. ]

It's not as far-fetched as all that, though. Think of-- you've been here, what, a few months? Maybe you haven't seen it yet then, but the seasons here, they're not... they're not gradual; it's winter one day, and-- [ He snaps his fingers. ] --snow vanished, sun out, spring literally the next. With so little variation within the four stages, that... that you might as well be trapped in some four page picture book for children.

[ Nothing if not picturesque, as far as prisons go. ]

So the question is-- I'm not sure what the better question is, the how or the why.

It'll blow your mind? [her lips twitch in amusement, then she tilts her head, listening]

So. There are seasons. Like in a picture book. Flipping the pages, could that also be like here itself? I know of Wonderland from an old children's book but it's not the same thing. Different, and twisted in a way.

And both questions are valid. How does this place exist, and why does it exist.

Creative, if creepy was the part I was thinking of, but that works too. Literally, possibly.

[ Meanwhile the sun is slowly setting over Wonderland. Their mysterious matchmaker has readied a row of unlit candles in a half circle around their blanket. Philip eyes them with contempt, and pulls a flashlight from his jacket instead. ]

And, erm, it was- the comparison was the first thing that came into my head, but I doubt it'll help us solve any mysteries, through Lewis Carroll or otherwise.

[ Instead he glances over at the star map, and switches on the light. ]

Found anything interesting there?

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( semi-open ) love is a many splendored thing

PHILIP/JANE » CHECKERBOARD HILLS

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