EchoicChamber

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

@ZB1996 Nomad is approved! Rhea looks good, but I did notice a few things that need to be fixed before she can be approved as well. Mind if I PM you?

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

Ranch House

It was clear that the years of abandonment had taken its toll on the house’s kitchen. The sink hadn’t worked in Soren’s first few tries, and when it finally sputtered to life, the water that gushed forth was tinted a bright orange. The insides of the oven were so jammed and so heavily coated in grease that even looking at it wrong seemed dangerous, and the insides of the cabinets had been concealing a nest of roaches before they were forcefully evicted from their home. The first few days they had been living there Soren hadn’t even risked making a proper meal in the place, instead rolling up his sleeves and working to fix up the place to the best of his ability. Both Percival and Clockwork had joined in where they could, digging out old cleaning supplies and scrubbing and scaring the occasional pest away, and, while he doubted that the kitchen would ever be restored to its former glory, it felt more...homey.

Especially now in particular. He found himself quietly murmuring the lyrics to some old pre-war songs as he worked- not of a few years ago, but of an era that most of the Wanderers had only heard tales of- fingers deftly shaping dough into something more appealing. His Gift served as his tool, bringing the sweet scent of freshly baked biscuits to life. His children were with him. If it wasn’t for the ghastly truths lying in both the attic and basement, Soren could have been almost...content.

He sighed quietly at the sound of a struggle behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder, a bowl of batter in his arms. “Percival, please put your sister down.”

Percival, still clad in face paint, grinned back at him. In one arm he was holding Caroline upside-down by the waist, who looked distinctly unimpressed by her current position. “What was that?” He hummed. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“He said to put me down.”

“You sure?”

Soren placed the bowl down, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, that’s exactly what I said. Leave Caroline be.”

The ginger let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine.” With easy movements, Percival flipped Caroline right-side up, setting her carefully back down to her feet...only to whisk her back into his arms not moments after, tickling her ferociously. “Didn’t say I had to leave her down,” he sang, ignoring the rather pointed “dad-look” Soren shot him in response. “She just has to surrender and I’ll leave her alone. You surrendering yet, Clocks?”

Clockwork, squirming helplessly, managed to shake her head. “Never.”

“Then you will die braver than most!” Percival picked up his attack, throwing his head back to bellow out maniacal laughter. He only ceased when the less bookish of the Schippers entered the room, Hel in tow. “Hi, Spire,” he said, following it up with a cheerful “Bye, Spire,” as the man just as quickly wandered off again.

Clockwork, swallowing as many lungfuls of air as she could before Percival could resume his torment, nodded at Hel. “Good morning, Helena,” she said, distinctly short of breath.

“Good morning,” Soren repeated, smiling. He knelt to meet the girl’s eyes, idly brushing off some of the flour that had built up on the front of his shirt. “Breakfast will be ready soon. If you’re hungry, though, you’re free to help yourself to one of the biscuits in the meantime.”

And then it happened. A strong citrus smell, strong enough to overpower the scent of dough.

Then, the batch that had been rising atop the oven suddenly stilled, as did Clockwork. The girl’s eyes were wide, as much alarm as she could feasibly express. “Percival,” she said, tonelessly. “Please put me back down.”

Percival, who seemed more confused than anything, gently lowered his sister, watching as she immediately scampered to her father and clung to his side. “What happened?”

“I can’t sense him,” Clockwork murmured. Soren’s brow had creased as he picked Clockwork up, glancing over to the tray of biscuits. “My Gift isn’t working, as well,” he added. He opened his mouth- to ask, perhaps, or give directions- when two things happened in quick succession.

There was a loud thud just outside the window as Rei hit the ground, unmoving.

Hel sprinted outside, looking almost offended.

“Helena, wait!” Soren shouted, reaching forth to try and grab her before she slipped away, but to no avail. Clockwork’s own eyes were planted firmly on the window- or, more accurately, what lay behind it. “Reith.” She didn’t raise her voice- if someone was unfamiliar with the child, they might have mistaken it for calmness- but she reached for the window, then quickly shifted about and started tugging on Soren’s shirt. “We need to help her.”

Soren turned for the first time, paling upon catching sight of Reith. His eyes were not panicked, however, instead holding something far more steely within them. “Percival,” he began. “Could you-”

“On it.” Percival tore his own gaze away from the window to sprint out of the kitchen, murmuring a quick “fuck, fuck, fuck” under his breath as he weaved out of the house. It didn’t take long for him to take in the general chaos going on outside, as well as the incredibly gaudy man seemingly responsible. Normally Pierrot would admire that kind of theatrics, but given the fact that people were screaming and dying around him, his sister was freaking out, and there was a long haired pretty-boy in Eld Fen’s clothes calling the tank guy “master”, any appreciation for such a dramatic entrance was quickly snuffed out.

Thankfully, Hel seemed alright, having been caught by Toby. Pierrot skipped around Nicodemus to join the little welcoming committee, grinning lazily. “Howdy,” he said, giving a two-fingered salute. His other hand had retreated to his coat, drawing out his trademark deck of cards, and he idly thumbed it as he eyed the man. “Come to sell us your used cars at amazingly affordable prices?”

His smile betrayed none of the tension that had worked itself into his shoulders.

Soren found himself just as preoccupied as his son, setting Caroline back onto the kitchen floor and gently placing a hand on her head. “Stay inside,” he said, firmly. “I’ll be right back.” He waited until she had given a soft “yes, father” before jogging outside. His jaw tightened upon seeing the state of affairs outside, but he moved with purpose until he reached where Reith’s body lay. He lifted her body carefully into his arms, taking in a sharp breath between his teeth upon seeing the full extent of the damage. There was no response from Rei, and no pulse from what he could feel. Giving a terse nod to the others, Soren returned to the living room, setting Rei gently upon the couch in the living room. Clockwork joined him not long after, resting a hand on the body’s arm. She looked even more like a doll now, face drained entirely of whatever color it managed to hold, eyes as large as pie dishes.

“We can still help her,” Clockwork said. “We need to find a way out.” She didn’t move as Soren placed a hand on her shoulder, lips pulled into a tight line.

The sudden, horrific shrieking pulled them both out of their thoughts.

Immediately, Clockwork hurried over to one of the windows, hopping to her toes to better peer out. Something was wrong. Many things were wrong. Unable to see well from the warped glass of the living room, she went to the opened front door, not stepping out, but watching.

Her hands clutched around the doorframe like vices.

“Fen?” She called. Soren joined her again, face drawn. A thin trail of blood had made its way down his chin from his lips, although he made no move to wipe it free. His chest was tightened, body tensed and ready to grab his daughter if need be.

This was a threat that had completely blindsided them, and from what it seemed, that had been wholly intentional.

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

Ranch House

Mina worked with the deft hands that came with years of practice, setting up an IV and slipping it neatly into the prisoner’s vein. Most of the damaged, deadened skin had been cut away, leaving gaping wounds in their place. It was a grisly sight, and the woman still had a long ways to go to recover, but it was an improvement at least. Dawn gave a grim nod. “Call me if you need anything else,” was all she said before turning to leave the doctor to her work.

Or, rather, she would have left, if not for the fact that she had caught the presence of their resident serial killer descending the stairs.

Dawn wasn’t one to swear. It was somewhat strange that she held onto the custom in a life where it wasn’t wholly uncommon to spend weeks wondering where your next meal would be coming from, but for whatever reason, and torture ran rampant beneath your feet, but it was a habit she clung onto regardless. Still, she found herself wanting to make an exception as she watched Spire strut into the basement like he had just won a small fortune. In several decisive steps, Dawn stepped between the man and the prisoner, regarding him with arms crossed.

“We aren’t making a ‘clean slate’ for anyone, actually,” Dawn said. “She’s being put off-limits.” Before she could say more, however, a sudden pang of…something hit her. Something distinctly unpleasant, like insects being set loose to run beneath her skin, within her skull.

And then it went silent.

And then Dawn’s eyes shot wide, hand flying up to rest against her head.

Like a candle that had been snuffed out- or, more accurately, as if a limb had been neatly plucked from her body- the effect was instantaneous, then quickly horrendous. The gentle, reassuring hum of thoughts around her was suddenly silenced, leaving a void behind. It was as if she had gone deaf. She looked up at the others, the same helpless look as a deer stuck in the headlights on her face.

“I- I can’t-” She began, then swallowed, shutting her eyes for a moment. Calm. She needed to stay calm. Especially if there was trouble. When she opened her eyes again, she had managed to recompose herself, although she was visibly pale. “Something’s wrong. I can’t- my powers are gone. I can’t sense anything.” Dawn glanced between her company, then pursed her lips. The world rumbled over their heads. “I’m going to go check on the others. Find out what’s happening.” With that, she darted upstairs, trying to ignore how loud her steps seemed.

It was as she stepped into the light of day that she realized that leaving things as they were in the basement, Spire hanging about the prisoner like a vulture, she was playing a hefty risk with the woman’s life. Mina was still with her, yes, but Spire could be patient when needed. And now, with his thoughts closed off...Dawn hesitated, half-tempted to go back down, but was pulled out of it at the roaring from outside the ranch house.

At Drake’s weak, pained cry.

At the sudden thump, and distinctly organic crunch that followed.

Gripping the pistol within her coat pocket, Dawn rushed outside, and was met with the sight of the man responsible- if his cheerful rambling was any indication The truck sitting behind him was alarming, as was Toby and Hel’s proximity to both, but that wasn’t what made her stomach drop. It was the sight of Rei lying motionless in front of the house in a broken heap. She wasn’t waking up. If Drake’s shaky grip on the porch’s beam signified anything, it was that everyone’s powers were indeed gone, and some were taking it far more worse than others.

“Oh, god.” The words were soft, given no time to settle before Dawn rushed forward, moving to support Drake. She couldn’t do much for Rei, at least not now- she didn’t seem to be breathing, and Dawn wouldn’t be able to bring her inside, herself- but, with her free hand, she took a hold of her gun, briefly checking to ascertain that it was loaded and ready to go. With her Gift gone, it was her primary means of defense.

“Let’s get you inside,” she said abruptly, quickly. In the state Drake was in, it was likely far better for him to sit, to try and not expend too much of his energy. Dawn chose not to speak to the slaver himself, instead keeping her ears open for the man’s next words. He had come for a definite purpose- something that didn’t bode well, given the fact that he seemed to have done his research on them all.

It was far too quiet.

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

@BrightSteel Accepted!

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

@LordofthePies Will PM you my questions real quick. c:

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

@LordofthePies Aight, want me to PM you, or drop it here? I can work with either.

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

@LordofthePies Of course! The more the merrier. c:

Would you like a brief summary of what's been going on, or nah?

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

@Juicy Ayyyy, the Headless Horseman. :D Always cool to see other BoI folk hanging about.

Also, I cast my vote for an 11. We need more off the Wall folk to balance out the relatively normal(ish) Wonderlanders hanging about, imo, but that’s just my two cents.

A Truly "Gifted" Life (Ignore post count)

@A Lowly Wretch Hey, nice post, man! I do have one thing that I'd like for you to edit, however- would you mind taking out the bit about Liberty having mechs? They don't have robots or anything in the faction. Sorry for the bother! c:

♠♥♣♦ Welcome to Wonderland (CLOSED FOR NEW REBOOT) ♢♧♡♤

Indigo M. Pelacour (Tweedle Dee)

Name:
Indigo Marie Pelacour

Nicknames:
Tweedle, Tweedle Dee, TD, Indie, True Blue

Gender:
Female

Age:
Physically in her early twenties. If asked her real age, Indigo will claim increasingly wild or absurd numbers, leaving the answer difficult to say.

Appearance:
Standing at 5’11”, Indie has little in the ways of curves- possessing a slim, almost boyish figure than anything else. Her face leans more on the feminine side, being naturally earnest and welcoming, but the effect tends to be ruined by the crooked, “shit-eating” grin that she’s rarely found without. Her hair is a bright copper, and cut into a short, fluffy bob in a way that makes it clear that she did the job herself. Her eyes are the color of rust.
Indigo’s usual choice of attire depends on what she’s doing that day, what she’s planning to do, or whatever she really feels like wearing. She has a preference for wearing bright, blindingly orange jackets, however, and has a habit of taking a “lucky penny” out of her pocket to suck on from time to time.

Personality:
It would be easy to assume that, over the countless years of roaming Wonderland, Indigo isn’t all...there. While amiable enough, she also behaves in an incredibly airheaded and theatrical manner, acting overly-familiar with those who openly despise her, and making cheerful jabs and sunny bits of snark in somewhat inappropriate moments. She also has a strong mischievous streak, and, together with her brother, will often play harmless jokes and pranks on some of the other residents of Wonderland. If insulted or otherwise brushed off, Indigo takes it in stride, making it somewhat difficult to get under her skin.

When separated from her brother, however, some of her deeper qualities get a chance to shine through. While still naturally vibrant and easygoing, Indigo is naturally more of an optimist, and more open (if not somewhat blunt) with her feelings than Percival. She’s always willing to sit down and have a chat, or offer surprisingly thoughtful advice if asked. Indigo is fiercely determined in her goals, and protective over her brother and those she cares for.

History:
As with other residents of Wonderland, it’s hard to determine how, when and where the Tweedles first came into existence. Asking either of the twins results in a range of answers every time, ranging from wild and elaborate tales of being royalty of a forsaken and far away land, to being humble orphans who dragged themselves out of the gutters. Sometimes a kindly widower of a father will be mentioned, other times both parents were alive and well throughout their childhood. They’re either only children, or have a younger sibling who they’ve lost contact with. They could have a perfectly pleasant, lazy upbringing one day, or a tragic history wrought with pain and suffering and whatnot the very next. Regardless of whatever the two spew, however, two things are for certain; the twins have always been very tight-knit, and have been around for quite some time now.

Indigo and Percival share a residence within the Hat’s town- a two-storied eyesore, madly colored with shades of oranges and purple and bits of chartreuse. While an unpleasant place to stare at for two long, the bottom half of their house has been converted into a surprisingly respectable bistro (initially, Indigo wanted to run a bakery, but the two of them quickly realized that Katrina’s competition could have easily put them under). Indigo primarily cooks and serves, and Percival is almost always found on stage, but when business is lazy the two will often be found entertaining together or mingling with the customers.

When the Alices first began to pour in, both twins were fascinated with the unusual strangers. They’d often tag along on their explorations, follow them about, and, after some time, even made some friends from the “other world”. However, as time passed, those same friends began to dwindle. Perhaps they’d choose to return to reality, or get caught by the Red King, or simply...disappear. It was disheartening, and while Percival became more and more jaded as the Alices came and went, Indigo has decided to make the best of it, and remains helpful and open to any who wish to get to know her during the short time they’re around.

Job:
Chef at/Co-Owner of a Bistro

Crush:
OPEN

Other:
- Despises the taste of mushrooms.

- Plays the ukelele.

- Has a minor drinking problem.

- Likes halberds.

Played By:
@EchoicChamber

Percival R. Pelacour (Tweedle Dum)

Name:
Percival Rowan Pelacour

Nicknames:
Tweedle, Tweedle Dum, TD, Percy, the Great and Incredible Percival (self-given), Perc

Gender:
Male

Age:
Physically in his early twenties. If asked his real age, Percival will claim increasingly wild or absurd numbers, leaving the answer difficult to say.

Appearance:
Clocking in at an even 5’11”, Percival is quite the eye-catching fellow, even in a land such as Wonderland. Bright blue eyes, a bird’s nest of fluffy copper hair, and a wry, “shit-eating” grin, it’s not uncommon for him to appear like he’s plotting something even when his mind is far from any mischief. He’s naturally quite slim and wiry,
His choice of outfit differs from one day to the next, and is usually dependant on what he’s doing or plans to do with his time. He has a preference for wearing bright, blindingly yellow coats, however, which he tends to wear and whirl about like capes.

Personality:
It would be easy to assume that, over the countless years of roaming Wonderland, Percival isn’t all...there. While amiable enough, he also behaves in an incredibly airheaded and theatrical manner, acting overly-familiar with those who openly despise him, and making cheerful jabs and sunny bits of snark in somewhat inappropriate moments. He also has a strong mischievous streak, and, together with his sister, will often play harmless jokes and pranks on some of the other residents of Wonderland. If insulted or otherwise brushed off, Percival takes it in stride, making it somewhat difficult to get under his skin.

When separated from his sister, however, some of his deeper qualities get to shine through. While still cheerful and rather dramatic, Percival is naturally more of a pessimist, and tends to hide or deny his real feelings for the most part. He always welcomes a light chat or a round of cards or any sort of company that can tolerate his sense of humor, but when conversation strays to any of his more personal matters, he will quickly divert the topic with a quip or otherwise. Percival is jaded and fairly cynical, but is quite protective of his sister, and can be depended on when the going gets tough.

History:
As with other residents of Wonderland, it’s hard to determine how, when and where the Tweedles first came into existence. Asking either of the twins results in a range of answers every time, ranging from wild and elaborate tales of being royalty of a forsaken and far away land, to being humble orphans who dragged themselves out of the gutters. Sometimes a kindly widower of a father will be mentioned, other times both parents were alive and well throughout their childhood. They’re either only children, or have a younger sibling who they’ve lost contact with. They could have a perfectly pleasant, lazy upbringing one day, or a tragic history wrought with pain and suffering and whatnot the very next. Regardless of whatever the two spew, however, two things are for certain; the twins have always been very tight-knit, and have been around for quite some time now.

Indigo and Percival share a residence within the Hat’s town- a two-storied eyesore, madly colored with shades of oranges and purple and bits of chartreuse. While an unpleasant place to stare at for two long, the bottom half of their house has been converted into a surprisingly respectable bistro (initially, Indigo wanted to run a bakery, but the two of them quickly realized that Katrina’s competition could have easily put them under). Indigo primarily cooks and serves, and Percival is almost always found on stage, but when business is lazy the two will often be found entertaining together or mingling with the customers.

When the Alices first began to pour in, both twins were fascinated with the unusual strangers. They’d often tag along on their explorations, follow them about, and, after some time, even made some friends from the “other world”. However, as time passed, those same friends began to dwindle. Perhaps they’d choose to return to reality, or get caught by the Red King, or simply...disappear. It was disheartening, and while Indigo remained warm and openhearted towards the visitors, Percival chose to distance himself and not get too attached to the new Alices if he can help it.

Job:
Entertainer at/Co-Owner of a Bistro

Crush:
Open

Other:
- Despises the taste of limes.

- Percival is skilled with a violin, and favors it in his performances (although if asked, he’ll call it a fiddle instead).

- Good at imitating voices.

- Likes throwing knives.

Played By:
@EchoicChamber

Dawn Memoli

Name:
Dawn Evelyn Memoli

Nicknames:
Sunshine

Gender:
Female

Age:
23

Appearance:
Standing at 4’11”, and with a rather petite frame, Dawn isn’t the exactly the most physically imposing figure out there. Her face is soft and wan, with ash-grey eyes and pale skin. She has thick black hair grown out to her hips, and, as such, tends to keep it styled in a neat side-plait to keep it out of her way for the most part.
Dawn prefers to “dress to impress” for the most part, wearing neatly pressed skirts, cardigans, and a pair of flats to work, and, while somewhat more casual in her dress in her everyday life, still keeps up an air of cleanly-kept professionalism. Together with a wide-brimmed hat, and the rather dark hues of her preferred outfits, it’s not uncommon for her to look like she’s off on her way to a funeral some days.

Personality:
By nature, Dawn is a gentle soul, soft-spoken and polite towards friends and strangers alike. She attempts to be respectful towards most by default- until they merit otherwise, that is- and, around friends, will often break out of her usual somber personality and act much more openly lively. In addition, while usually composed and naturally serious, she will often become flustered if taken aback or embarrassed. She tends to have a rather dry sense of humor for the most part, and becomes frigid to the point of holding long-lasting grudges when genuinely angered.

While Dawn has a strong code of ethics, she is also a woman of logic and her own observations. When an unfamiliar situation arises, she will often do her best to wrap her head about it, asking questions or simply watching to gain information.

History:
Dawn’s upbringing was a simple one. The second child of a teacher and a lawyer, the family lived comfortably in a small Italian town throughout her childhood, and, later, in the heart of Michigan. It was a peaceful enough existence, even if she was somewhat sickly as a child. However, when she was eleven, her older brother, Allen, made the decision to leave home with a nest’s egg of cash at his disposal. As the child had already grown up into a wild playboy, this decision only served to isolate him further from the rest of the family. He had contacted Dawn after a few years, and while the two have remained in touch throughout the years, their relationship has been somewhat strained.

In the absence of one of their children, Dawn’s parents quickly shifted what expectations they had placed upon Allen onto her. She was pushed further and further to achieve within her classes, leaving her with little time to do much otherwise. While stressful, Dawn did her best to manage, and graduated from high school only to immediately submerge herself in college. She graduated at twenty with a degree in Criminal Justice, and, although originally interested in continuing college to become a lawyer, decided to become a private investigator instead, having been inspired by her late uncle. She moved to Chicago, Illinois, set up shop, and began her work from that day forth. Her life was always carefully calculated, and the grim, analytical nature she inherited from her parents served her well in her new job. A good life, and one that she had only begun to taste.

Falling into Wonderland wasn’t something that she had planned for.

During one of her cases, Dawn was investigating the old property of her employer when she came across a withered old door that didn’t...quite seem to lead to anywhere, really. Shining a light into it did nothing, and, deciding not to step into the void and risk falling to her death, she turned- only to find herself unable to. Shoved into the doorway by some invisible force, Dawn was transported to Wonderland, a world where all logic was turned on its head.

Job:
None at the moment, is currently searching for one.

Previous Occupation:
Private Investigator

Crush:
OPEN

Other:
- Enjoys superhero movies and bad police/crime shows. She’s also a fan of reading cheesy romance novels, but that’s something she keeps to herself.

- Has a, um, a bad habit of "umm"ing in the middle of her sentences. Or pausing abruptly.

Played By:
@EchoicChamber