you want to hear it? well —

[happyheartsstaff]

ONLY, MY SECRET'S MINE, AND I WON'T TELL

The garden may no longer be available upon return to the hotel, but there is still a bustle of energy. How fortunate all the Oysters are, to reside in such a renowned place! It's a great honor for those in Wonderland to be granted opportunity to teach their skills or ply their trade here, and the Queen permits only the best. Hotel staff themselves seem to delight in the presence of the traveling merchants. Many trade teas or favors for enchanted items, and will eagerly discuss their purchases. "Oh, it happens regularly enough," they will say if asked, "but you never know if the merchant you liked or the item you eyed will be back next time!"

The talk lingers after the guest instructors and merchants have departed, but it isn't the only thing left behind. Glimmers of green may catch your eye, tucked away in hidden places that seem almost impossible to reach without drawing attention to yourself. Those who manage it will find a scrap of heavy paper with a drawing of a stylized caterpillar, a series of numbers, and the words call a friend.

Are you curious enough to input the numbers into your Empathy? It will ring, if you do, until an answering machine picks up and asks a single question — How doth the little crocodile improve his shining tail? Do you dare leave a message? What will it be? Whatever you decide, the call will disconnect after a few minutes. It seems the only thing you can do now is wait for a call back.

But of course, the hotel is not in the habit of allowing such a thing as idle waiting. Her Royal Highness has noticed that some of her beloved Oysters seem quite reluctant to partake of the many splendors that the hotel provides, and she will be offering a special treat — indulgence.

QUEEN'S GAMES

8/12 - 8/22

What's more fun to indulge in than a little healthy competition? It's time for the Queen's Games, a truly dazzling spectacle. Competitors come from all over Wonderland, and this year for the first time ever, Oysters are invited to join! Announcements for the games schedule will be posted all throughout the hotel, along with directions on how to register to join.

The games will be held in either the pool area or the gym, which seems to have expanded to accommodate the number of spectators. Available games include:

• archery
• chess
• croquet
• artistic swimming
• diving
• gymnastics
• flamingo flying
• ice skating
• ice sculptures

Of course, even the games that Oysters are familiar with may not be quite the same. Chess in Wonderland is a team sport, for example, with each member of the team filling a role as a chess piece and a coach as a strategist directing the plays. Attempting to capture one of the other team's pieces includes having to successfully win a fight against them. Gymnastics and diving competitors include growing and shrinking in size to their routines, ice sculptures come to life when they've been completed, artistic swimmers and ice skaters change costumes and swap partners in the blink of an eye.

If they're lucky, Oysters may find one of the competitors willing to show them the ropes. If they're even luckier, or more persistent, there may be a spot or two open on one of the teams that Oysters can slot themselves into. For the most part, team members will be delighted to have Oysters there.

"You all just feel so much," one may say, sounding a little awed.

"Show off those emotions, it'll get us points," another will add.

Although competitors are friendly, with Osyters and with each other, it's clear that most of them are here to win. Rivalries may flare up throughout the month, ex-lovers may be reunited and broken up again, infighting may spark among the teams — all things that can be soothed or exacerbated, for Oysters who may have inclinations towards utilizing such things to increase their chances of winning.

Or to fan the flames of drama for its own sake.

THE CALL

8/16

Starting in the early morning hours and continuing late into the night, any who left a message will get a call back.

Those who completed the poem will be greeted immediately by a friendly male voice, with an apology for the delay. "Ugh, our lines are backed up like crazy," the caller will say. "Where are you reporting in from?"

Those who somehow identified themselves as an Oyster, as residing in the hotel, from off world, being held by the Queen, or otherwise potentially against the Queen, will have their call returned by a cold female voice, guarded and wary.

"Show me your Oyster mark," the caller will request. "We can't risk giving you anything without proof."

Regardless of which caller contacts them, anyone who cooperates will receive similar information.

The friendly caller will readily provide assurances that the resistance base was not found, despite Mad March and the Order's attempt at reconnaissance in the old kingdom.

"Can't say much more than that over these channels, you know, but worry not! Everyone is safe. We have a follow up from the last mission — sorry about the air conditioning, you know, couldn't be helped — you ready for this? Keycodes. Access keycodes. Didn't get more than a handful, of course, and the intel is vague about what they access. Are we glad to get your call! How about it, you ready to try one out and see what information you can get?"

The guarded caller will allude to the Order not being able to find what they wanted out in the ruins.

"Did you think they took you out there to show you the sights? They're looking for us, obviously. No I'm not going to tell you more than that — just because you're an Oyster doesn't mean we can completely trust you. All right, look. Last time we broke into the hotel, we recovered a few access codes. We had to get out of there before we could find out what they accessed. How about a trade? We give you the code, you call us back and tell us what you find."

INDULGENCE

8/13 - 8/23

Throughout the event, there will be a number of activities available alongside the games designed to encourage unwinding. A concert set up in the hotel lobby will kick off the start of the games, at which indulgence teas will be made available for the first time. They will continue to be served readily at all hours of the day. Enhanced spa facilities will be made available as well — dazzling pedicures and manicures with nail polish that can do anything from change colors based on your mood to emit light so bright it can function as a flashlight; makeup that gives you a kiss that will literally stun the recipient; aromatherapy that will cure any kind of hangover; oils that double as aphrodisiacs, for those interested; healing massages that will take away your aches and pains, wiping away any bruises or injuries with no questions asked. A clean slate, ready to indulge again.

Then, of course, there are the less official activities. Whispers will begin to spread about another kind of competition being run after hours, when all good competitors should be sleeping. No one quite knows who's running it — one person heard it was the coach of one of the chess teams, eager to get her players extra practice; another heard it was one of the chess players themselves; still another will say it is an ice skater, a flamingo pilot, a gymnast. After all, it hardly matters, does it, as long as it runs, and there is a fight every night? Oysters are welcomed into this competition as well, where the only rule is not to kill your opponent. Teas of all kinds exchange hands as bets are placed on the fights, and the champion is rumored to receive a truly spectacular prize.

If fighting is not to your speed, fear not. All of the competitors seem to have different ways to unwind after the games are completed for the day, and all are happy to allow Oysters to indulge in attending the various get-togethers and parties they host. The knight on one of the chess teams has the most renowned wine collection, and he's brought some of his finest with him to be enjoyed alongside cheeses and poetry. One of the swimmers is a passionate musician, and has recruited anyone who can play an instrument to discuss musical theory and play together. A croquet player is known for hosting the wildest parties, with free-flowing moonshine and sips of ecstacy tea readily available. There is a flamingo pilot with a book club, an archer who is a fabulous chef, a diver who is a skilled debater with a wicked tongue — whatever you like to indulge in, chances are, someone's throwing a party for it.

The games will end on the 23rd, with a roaring celebration of all who participated in the competition. The pool area will be taken over for the farewell party, with music, food, alcohol, and dancing available. It is here that the winners of the competitions will be announced, and prizes will be awarded.

If you have any questions, please leave them over here! Results for the access code sign ups and the distractions will go out on the 14th, so players have until then to sign up. Characters can use the keycodes to access areas and cause distractions from the 16th through the 23rd — and beyond, but after the final party they may no longer have an easy excuse. If you wish to have your character compete in one of the competitions for the prizes, you can sign up here! Winners will be RNGed.

PREMISE RULES FAQ TAKEN RESERVES APPLICATION MOD CONTACT HIATUS & DROPS WORLD INFO NPCS CALENDAR AC REWARDS PLAYER CONTACT

© tessisamess

Comments

[sadflutenoises]

It's... not the answer he expected, but he's glad she knew what it was, at least. He'd kind of thought it had something to do with messing with March's head; if calibrating was to make something more accurate, then re calibrating meant something had slipped, and it wasn't working like they wanted it to, right? And it wasn't the first time March had been in there, the Walrus said that too...

"Would it make a difference," he tries, "if they have ah... something like strings? in their head?"

He moves his hand to the back of his head, low, near the hairline at the back of his neck and taps it a couple of times. There were strings about as thick as a guqin's, sticking out and twisting into March's head. It didn't make a lot of sense, he'd thought, since they couldn't vibrate if they weren't pulled taut, but the Carpenter had been so meticulous about how they were placed.

[earthborn]

"Wires. Yeah, that'd change things."

She'd known March wasn't exactly your standard organic, you'd have to be a real idiot to think there was a flesh and blood face under that impassive rabbit-mask, but... That was next-level synthetic life, Wei Wuxian was describing. She sips directly from the rim of the glass, to hide her expression, but doesn't actually drink.

What had he seen? A repair? Calibration could be standard maintenance, or it could be some kind of control being maintained. You didn't calibrate without some kind of standard to calibrate to, after all.

"Mmh," Shepard said, finally, as if in pleasure at the flavor, "Weird shit, Wei Wuxian. What else you got for me?"

[sadflutenoises]

"Change things how?" he seems to light up at that, glad to be getting somewhere, "what do the st- the wires do?"

He was curious how just the addition of a few strings could make something jump from impossible to possible, but he was willing to wait. It seemed like Shepard wanted more details before she was going to explain. Or, attempt to. Probably helpful to have the whole picture, he supposed.

"Okay, um," luckily he has a good memory, "what's... bio...molecular?"

[earthborn]

That throws her for a loop and her March hypothesis out the window. Shepard turns to face him, because they could play guessing games all night or she could just have it out right now.

"Look, maybe you can just tell me whatever it is you were told, or what you saw, and I can help then, because... I mean, biomolecular? Really?" You're getting a look now, boy. What in the world? "I'm a soldier, not a medic. Or a scientist."

[sadflutenoises]

How was he supposed to know? There was a reason he'd sought out Shepard, because at the very least, she'd heard of the words before. He raises his hands, a bit defensively.

"Okay, okay," he huffs, "My... Dabo, he... lost an arm, when we went to the woods. They took him somewhere, to replace it and I sort of... snuck in and followed?"

He really hoped the ambient noise of the bar was enough to cover for them, if any of the queen's minions were listening in. But it was important enough to take the risk.

"He wasn't the only one they were working on. I also saw... do you know who March is? He has the rabbit helmet? Anyway, they were working on him too. They said he needed to be re calibrated... again, but that it was hard because of ah... bio molecular... transdistropia? I think?"

Even if he didn't know what the terminology meant, he knew they were messing with March's head. And making him do things he didn't want to.

"They were poking around with those wires for a while, and when he woke up, he was... different, from how I've seen him before."

[earthborn]

"...Right. Different how?"

Shepard listened, but before he was done she'd gone back to lounging. Only once the bartender wandered too near, and she immediately singled a fresh drink, despite her full glass, and that sent him away again.

"I don't think that's a helmet. I think that's his actual face," She says, after Wei Wuxian is silence a while, after he's finished, after she's thought, "There are... life forms. That aren't born. They're made. I think he's one of those, a synthetic. But he might just be a cyborg— like me."

She's thinking aloud, now. But when she looks over at Wei Wuxian, at his impotent frustration, she sighs and relents. Alright, alright.

"I told you I died, right? But bringing me back wasn't easy. They had to replace a lot of parts. Some of them were harvested from clones, some they just made... mechanical replacements," And then, to be sure he understood, "—Devices, that can do the work that bones and muscles and other body-parts usually do. That's how I came back; a lot of blood and pain, and death."

[sadflutenoises]

"Different like... he was taking things seriously?" it was hard to describe. The March he'd met seemed to laugh in the face of authority and buck at the rules.

"The ones working on him said he'd attacked them before," the one who called himself Walrus, he was pretty sure, "and one of them had some kind of weapon trained on him, like they thought he might do so again."

He took a long drink, mulling the rest over. If the ceramic rabbit was his real face, like Shepard though, and he was made? How did that even work? Still, Shepard was living proof that it did, standing right in front of him.

"Mm, so people who are made, instead, they're susceptible? To that re-calibration thing?"

[earthborn]

"If you can get inside someone's head, screw with their mind, you can calibrate them to whatever standard you see fit," Shepard told him, by way of definition. Funny how you don't really know how to define a word even if you use it every other day. Even if you thought you knew what it meant, "I don't know how your mumbo-jumbo works, but nobody's immune to it. It's just easier to open up a Synthetic's head and start re-wiring things."

She takes a real drink this time, remembering her own struggle with that choice. To change the minds of a generation of machines, thousands, maybe millions of individuals, all with the press of a button and an uploaded virus. But then, what would that make her? What kind of monster? What would she have been, to do to them in their anonymous multitudes, what had almost been done to her with such specificity? It's so easy to say genocide, but harder to define it, in the end.

"Do you know who was working on him? Their names? What they look like?"

It was such a peaceful truce, while it lasted.

[sadflutenoises]

Mind control, exactly what he'd thought! Finally, some confirmation that he wasn't just spinning wild theories! Trying to explain it to Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen had been an exercise in futility. They'd been much more concerned about chastising him for his hasty investigation.

"Mm, no no, there's similar things in my world, definitely, that's what made me stay to observe," he explains, keeping an eye out for any staff who might come near or eavesdrop, "so I saw them, yes."

He offers a physical description of each of them, and a light summary of what he saw, leaving out much of the more personal bits involving Lan Xichen, and focusing on the movements and words passed between them instead.

"Their names were Walrus and Carpenter," he adds, not finding it too odd, since there were also folks with names like Shepard or Crowley.

[earthborn]

"...Weird," Shepard pronounces of this entire thing, meaning the name Walrus if not Carpenter. She'd met a John Carpenter once, a half-decent officer, which meant that in her estimation he was also half-useless; she'd been grateful to be promoted over him, when the time came, "But what isn't, around here? Nice work, this is good intel. Thanks."

She wasn't going to get involved, really she wasn't. Except, it seems, she has. Neutrality is such a pipe dream.

"Anything I can do for you?"

[sadflutenoises]

Right, it was strange, and it was good to have some confirmation of that from an outside source. He'd been collecting bits and pieces, what he could find of March, and people seemed quite polarized in their opinions of him, but Wei Wuxian was still convinced March could be helpful, maybe even wanted to help.

"Mm, I guess... I just needed to confirm some suspicions," he nods, "Lan Zhan gets kinda prickly when I talk about March. Plus, he doesn't know that technical stuff any better than I do."

Was there anything else? It's not like he'd told her because he wanted something in return, okay, aside from vocabulary help. That, and she was the tactician- well, commander, whatever the rank difference was in that.

"Mm... not really, just let me know if you hear anything else? And I can do the same for you?"

[earthborn]

Shepard knows the language, but she has very little of the culture; whoever Lan Zhan is, it's no business of hers. More the better, really, if he doesn't like having information then Shepard is more than happy to take up the slack.

"You got yourself a deal," She says, sticking out a hand for the traditional shake, just to make it official, "You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."