+ FOURTH WALL EVENT: GENERAL NON-PARTY MINGLE POST +

[vitaelamorte]

Who: E V E R Y O N E
Where: Everywhere that isn't one of the parties! Both Sides!
When: Sept 1st to Sept 10th
Rating: G to PG-13 (please label higher ratings, thank you!)
Summary: Wonderful parties are springing up all across Wonderland, but there are still plenty of other places to explore. This is a log for any new arrivals who want to experience different parts of Wonderland life, and any current guests not in the mood for a log or transmission of their own.

Please also see THE FOURTH WALL MASTER POST for rules, information, and all the fun parties you can visit!
The Story:

On the morning of September 1st, everyone in Wonderland, on both Real and Mirror Side, will awake to find one of four possible invitations has been shoved under their doors. The glass has been carefully removed from all mirrors, and everyone will be able to cross to and from Mirror Side with ease, without forcing any sort of swap. The Queen of Hearts' chambers, discovered in the previous event, will be mysteriously inaccessible, leading only to a tearoom.

Additionally, there will be many more Wonderland guests than usual, each of them with their own random invitation and network device (wired to make replies only). As the week goes on, as per the invitations, more and more parties will appear (and everyone is invited to all of them, whether they received an invitation or not). But who brought them here? Why are there so many parties? Who is responsible for all of this exactly?

It's anyone's guess, though if parties or riddles are not your style, then there is always plenty more to see...

Comments

[brainleak]

No, there must be... I'm stuck somewhere, need to find the exit. A door, or hole, or rip in spacetime...

[She's too trapped in her own head to notice that something is wrong, that this isn't Frisk.]

Maybe made a wrong turn... Are you here too? Frisk? Where are you?

[She's starting to grow concerned -- if Frisk is here too, then they're trapped as well. Is there really nowhere to go? She looks around desperately.]

cw gaslighting

[dustiest]

We're in Wonderland, River. Where we've always been. Don't you remember?

[Oh, but why not go the whole manipulative hog? This could be supremely interesting, if they could convince her that she's never been anywhere else!]

What kinds of memories do you have? Things that never happened?

[brainleak]

I never, I never remember things wrong. See things that aren't real, but my memory is...

[She looks at them, confused.]

We weren't always here. You were... Underground. I was, I was picking the Cambersons' berries. Taking the sky. I remember. I remember...

[She brings a hand to her head, suddenly feeling like she has a headache.]

[dustiest]

[Her movements are pained, as are her words. This could mean a great deal of things. It means, mostly, to them, that she's unbalanced. She's questioning her sense of reality.

This could be fun.]

I don't know what you mean. Underground, where? We were never underground, River.

[They keep their tone gentle, their thoughts a forceful swirl of reassurance. Of course they're on your side, River. Why wouldn't they be?]

[brainleak]

Don't, [she whispers, starting to get visibly upset.] Don't, don't lie. You... You dusted... No, don't say things like that, be reasonable, I can be reason...able.

[She stares ahead, blankly looking at nothing for a moment, quiet. Then she snaps her eyes back to Frisk, grabs a fistful of her own hair.]

After I... After. Went to, went to get burned. Went to sleep. Went to the stars. I know this. I know it.

[dustiest]

[She's having difficulty adjusting to the situation. Well. That's all right. That's normal. She's talking about dust and their composure slips briefly, into a flat image of disdain - her little invasive tricks digging into their mind. Well, they can turn that against her, can't they?]

You're not making sense.

[They reach out slowly, in that hesitant nature their Real does, the faltering, feather-light touch that they hate, that has no drive or real assurance behind it at all, but is more of a comfort to them than to the person they're attempting to comfort.

They touch her shoulder.]

It'll be okay. It'll be okay. I'm not lying to you. You're alive, River. You're here, you're in Wonderland, and you're alive.

[brainleak]

[River flinches at the touch.

She's here and she's alive. She's not making sense. That much is true; she never makes sense. But she understands that something is wrong right now. She's having trouble getting a finger on exactly what is wrong, but she knows it's wrong and Frisk is only trying their best to help. They're only trying their best. They're her friend. They told her they're her friend. They're willing to take up the burden of caring about her.

She slowly puts her hand on Frisk's.]

I... I trust you, Frisk. I trust you, but I'm... I'm scared. I don't... comprehend this. Nothing makes sense. Nothing looks right.

[She has to be right about this. She wouldn't be this way if her memories are lying to her. She would never have... Dr. Matthias would never have... Simon would never have...

Simon.]

No... No, this is wrong. Simon's not here. I know he exists. He's not here! [River wrenches her shoulder away from Frisk.] He never came here. He never did! Where is he!? Where is he, Frisk!?

[She ducks her head down and covers her head, shrinking away from them. They're scaring her. What they're saying can't be true. What would it mean for Simon? What does it mean that he's gone? He's dead? He's disappeared? He's run away? She can't take any answer. Can't live with herself either way.]

[dustiest]

[Who the fuck is Simon.

Their expression flickers only for a second, but they keep their hold on River's shoulder, and her hand goes over theirs. She trusts them. She trusts them.

She's on the verge of some kind of breakdown, clearly, and they've got no idea how to get her to reign it in, nor do they feel particularly inclined to help where she's concerned. This kind of panic is all-encompassing.

It also leaves her extraordinarily vulnerable.

The Dagger slips out from their pocket, held carefully behind their back. They try to keep their thoughts a dim, consoling swirl. Not sure if they really succeed in keeping the tide of intent held away.]

Don't worry about it. You shouldn't worry about people who never existed.

[Whoever Simon is, they've made the unilateral decision that he doesn't matter in the grand scheme. He can't matter, not if he's not here.]

[brainleak]

[River peeks through her hands with wide eyes, staring unbelieving at Frisk. There's something seriously wrong. Something nagging at her. Like she shouldn't be around them. She takes several stumbling steps back, away from them.

They're not real. It's the only explanation. Simon has to be real, alive, safe. He has to. There's no alternative she can stand. So they're not real.

But they touched her. And their thoughts-- their thoughts-- the things they don't say--

What is that?]

Stay-- Stay away from me. You're wrong. I remember. I remember too much. Simon came for me. Simon took care of me! You're not real! None of this is real!

[Wonderland, the mansion, the second mansion, all the people... Frisk. She's trapped in a false world.]

[dustiest]

Of course I'm real.

[She's flinching away, clearly stricken, having trouble interpreting the amount of stimuli being thrown at her. She backs away and Frisk advances, matching her retreat step for step. They open their free hand, palm out.]

I'm real. I touched you, didn't I?

[Closer. Closer.

And then they draw the Dagger out, swift and intent, aiming to jam the thing into the side of her throat.]

[brainleak]

[River shakes her head, unable to accept what Frisk is saying anymore. She needs to get away from them. She needs to figure all this out. She's so confused and scared. She--

She reflexively grabs their wrist before the knife connects, eyes wide. It was automatic. The kind of thing she's not sure she can do before she just does it. The kind of reflex that's been programmed into her somehow.

They're real. They're just lying.

Holding onto their wrist, she tries to kick at them, aiming to push them away with her foot and run.]

cw bone dislocating

[dustiest]

[Their teeth bares in a furious snarl when her hand snaps up over their wrist. She tries to kick them away, and they twist, and they're faced with the choice - the choice to let her kick take them squarely in the midriff or avoid it and end up damaging their wrist.

Determination allows them to play through the pain. They avoid the kick, barely, but her grip on their wrist is unrelenting and there is the crack and shift of bones and tendons and things moving that should not be moved. Their teeth grit. The Dagger drops from their right hand.

They catch it with their left.

The pain is unbearable.

Without any means of reaching the arm holding them in one place, they try to clamp their teeth down on her hand instead.]

[brainleak]

[Her grip on them loosens as they unexpectedly bite down on her hand, and she cries out, teeth bursting through skin quickly and pulling as she reflexively tries to withdraw her hand. Blood trickles through their teeth.

They've still got the knife. They're still going to kill her. She kicks again, higher this time, trying to sweep into the side of their head to get them off of her. Ballet grace comes through.]

SAVE 1.0

[dustiest]

[They taste that coppery tang of blood and their grin is ragged and it must look so unhinged and stained crimson, but they use it to spear a pin through this point in time and hold it, suspended.

* Progress SAVED.

Their right hand they draw up to their chest in all its broken, aquiline glory. Good thing they've practiced with their left as well.

They throw themself flat on the ground to avoid the kick and are bouncing onto their feet again in an instant, Dagger held low and ready to strike.]

C'mon, River. Is that any way to treat an old pal?

[brainleak]

[River catches the knife in her already bleeding hand, not even registering the new pain at this point as it bites through her flesh, rendering her hand almost useless for anything other than gripping the knife tightly.]

Not Frisk, not Frisk, not Frisk...

[She chants to herself lowly, ignoring their taunts, as she jabs her other elbow at their nose while they're propelling forward. It's okay to hurt them. They're not Frisk. Got to get away. Got to get away. Got to get away.]

[dustiest]

Wrong!

[She catches the Dagger and holds it and for a moment they're too surprised and the sheer audacity of the movement to try jerking it out of her grip.

Her elbow drives into their nose. There's a sickening crack as their nose breaks, blood running thickly down their face. They hiss in irritation.

Let's try that again, shall we?]

LOAD 1.1

[dustiest]

I'm Frisk in every way one can be a Frisk, River. Don't you realize that?

[Their nose is sound and whole, back to standing there with their damaged hand, ready to strike. This time they barely bother with the anticipatory jerkback before they slash with the blade low, aiming for her side.]

[brainleak]

[The world hiccups.

What just happened?

Her elbow tingles with the memory of contact. Her hand feels like there's a blade slashing it. Something just happened.

She doesn't have time to consider this further as Frisk slashes at her, and she tries to jerk away but is caught too off-guard to fully avoid it. The knife cuts through her dress, taking a streak of red with it as it goes, slicing through flesh. She flinches, pressing her good hand against the wound.]

Not Frisk, not Frisk, not Frisk! [She calls louder this go around, twirling to kick again, aiming to catch the Dagger with her boot and knock it out of their hand.]

[dustiest]

[Humans are awfully tricky to kill, aren't they? Her HP must be getting gradually whittled down by these slashes and cuts they're making, but she's more resilient than, perhaps, they've given her credit for. They can't quite alter the trajectory of the blade as it meets the arc made by her foot, and again they are left with the choice - to let go or to leave their body to ruin.

They've already sacrificed one hand, and they know they cannot allow the other to follow. So the Dagger flies from their hand in an uneven parabola, and they let it go. Instead they plunge their hand into their inventory and withdraw the Empty Gun.]

You think you can pretend I'm not real? That I'm not them? I'm a possibility, an inevitability! I am them, as they were at some point in their journey! You know I am!

[Pistol-whipping is less elegant than cutting your opponent to ribbons, but it'll do in a pinch.]

LOAD 1.2

[dustiest]

[ - snap it all back.]

- would you stop breaking my nose?

[brainleak]

[It happened. She's sure of it now. It happened twice. They're admitting it.

They're making it repeat. They're doing what Frisk can do. What she's never seen them do.

River looks at them, unimpressed.]

It's soft cartilage. Easiest weak point on the face.

[And least deadly, good for stunning and getting a good running start on an escape. But they're not going to let her escape, are they? They're determined.

She needs another way out of this. She doesn't want to have to kill them, but if she has no other choice...]

Could go for your eyes instead, if you prefer.

[dustiest]

[Picked that up, did she? Well, good. It was getting tiresome, and at least now they're likely to get things a little more interesting.

And she's shaping up to be more than the terrified girl uttering nonsensical phrases - not Frisk, as if that would be enough to banish them, really! - and this is infinitely more intriguing.]

Yes. I suppose you could.

[And then, just because they can, they step back and spread their arms wide, an obvious baiting ploy. They're confident in their ability to dodge the worst of what she can throw at them - perhaps overly - but it'd be best to gauge what she's capable of.]

My, my. But no wonder you and Frisk get along so well! You're both exactly the same!

LOAD 1.3

[dustiest]

Not Frisk!

[They waste no time this go around, but dive for her directly, Dagger clasped in a reverse grip and held high above their head.]

Not Frisk!

[They bring the blade down fiercely in a series of sweeping, wild, unpredictable arcs.]

Not Frisk, right?

Wrong.

* It's me.

[brainleak]

[All River can do is shield herself with her arms, leaving a flurry of cuts all over them. She grits her teeth against the pain, invisible scars forgotten as her skin is torn through again and again.]

No! You're not them!

[She grasps for the hand with the knife, mostly succeeding in shredding her hand some more. Feet are protected, use the boots. Kick again.

She twirls into a kick, aiming for their ear to ruin their balance.]

They made a choice not to be you!

[dustiest]

[They dodge. At least, they try to. They overestimate the compensatory flinch and end up overbalancing mid-strike, and have to twist awkwardly to ensure they don't fall on their own blade, and land heavily on the ground. She's faster than they would have thought. Perhaps that's why she's so good at throwing them off their guard.]

You think they're gonna keep making that choice? [they snarl at her, their control cracking, their face a tight mask of fury.] I'm them in every way it's possible be them! I just chose not to deny it like they do! Like you do!