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to

~Wonderland~


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Down the rabbit hole!


There is a place like no place on earth
A land full of wonder, mystery, and utter nonsense
Thick with colorful characters, all of which are delightfully mad of course.
Are you a curious explorer who has fallen down the rabbit hole?
Or one of Wonderland's peculiar denizens, waiting for a new face to appear?
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Rules:

1. No Godmodding!
2. Any romance above PG-13, take it to the pms
3. Be semi literate at least! That means no one liners. I'm sure you can manage at least four sentences.
4. Use proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Use what you learned in english class, people.
5. Please pm me your profiles, do not post them.
6. Try to post every day or at least once every couple of days. Do not just post once and never post again.
7. No killing another person's character without their permission.
8. Be creative with posts! :3 Add pictures, color and text if you want to.
9. Original characters are welcome, but let's have some canon characters too.
10.Have fun!
~Profile Skeletons~:


Username:
Name:
Adventurer or Resident of Wonderland:
Bio:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Appearence:


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Accepted Profiles



The Curious Ones

(The Adventurers)

********





The Odd Ones

(Residents of Wonderland)


Username: Atomic Octopus
Name: The Chesire Cat
Adventurer or Resident of Wonderland: Resident
Bio: He has lived in Wonderland since as far back as he can remember, lurking in the shadows and keeping a watchful eye on what has been going on. He almost always is laughing and has a grin on his face. He also enjoys nonsensical poems and songs. His personality is quite mysterious but also strange, inquisitive, and mischievous. He acts rather cat-like; licking his claws and such. He also has the power to dissapear and reappear.
Likes: New people, Songs, Poems, Sweet Foods.
Dislikes: People with no sense of humor, Dogs, Being bored.
Appearence: User Image
********
αℓ∂συŞ cιąякε



Deep inside an art museum in the historic district, a lone figure stood in front of one of the paintings. He stared at it intently, scutinizing every detail as a smile played on his lips. He understood what the artist was trying to show. "What if this is all there is?" the man murmured to himself. "What is there is nothing but an empty void? We're nothing but dogs barking out into the emptiness, yearning for there to be something more. How very bleak," the man remarked and straightened the top hat on his head.

Aldous Clarke often came by the many libraries and museums located in the historic district. He usally disliked venturing anywhere else as he loathed the filthy people found on the streets. "Vermin," he muttered as he strode out of the museum, his cane clicking on the dusty stone floor.
Just by looking at him, it wasn't apparent that one of his arms was replaced with one made of metal and wiring. But it was easily covered with his long coat sleeves and white gloves. His arm was rather impressive, one of his pinacles of achievement. Aldous was quite proud of it.

He sauntered out into the streets, his coat trailing behind him, and he headed back to his apartment. There were some projects he needed to put finishing touches on.
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Gauge

The Junkie


Deep in the Warren in a secluded alleyway, there was a man with brightly dyed red hair slumped against a dusty wall. His eyes were closed but eventually he began to stir and opened his eyes. "Why am I so cold?" he thought and drew his filthy sweatshirt closer around his bare chest. He recalled feeling so pleasant and warm earlier. His eyes darted around and he glanced at his surrounds but found them unfamiliar. "How did I get here? What was I doing?" he thought to himself before his eyes drooped down and he noticed a discarded needle on the ground. "Oh," he thought, remembering.

He felt horrible. He was longing for the euphoria to be back, but at the moment he had to get home. Gauge had the strangest feeling that he had forgotten something important. He struggled to his feet and gulped down a wave of nausea. He didn't look very heathy at all; his eyes and cheekbones were sunken and it was apparent that the man had lost a lot of weight. But there was something that was far more important than food, at least to him.

He took a few tenative steps forward and slowly walked out of the alley and into the streets of the Warren. He started to recognize things and realized he was far closer to his home than he thought. Now all he had to do was remember what he'd forgotten.
Keep holdin' on when
My brain's tickin' like a bomb
Guess the black thoughts have
Come again to get me


Lyris

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Wait
I'm coming undone
Irate
I'm coming undone
Too late
I'm coming undone
What looks so strong so delicate
Keep holdin' on when
My brain's tickin' like a bomb
Guess the black thoughts have
Come again to get me


Lyris

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Deep in the lush, gloomy forest surrounding Forks, Washington, there was something that appeared to be a man busy feasting on a pleasant meal. But on closer inspection, the man was not human in the slightest. Instead, he was a vampire. Nothing unusual. He was called Lyris and he was hunched over his recent kill. It was a poor unfortunate fisherman who had been at the wrong place at the wrong time, which resulted in him becoming a play-thing for the strange vampire. Lyris had toyed with him a bit of course, broken some of his bones and listened to his musical screams. But eventually the game had bored him and Lyris had tore into his neck with the ferocity of an animal.

Now the vampire lied back from the corpse and wiped his blood splattered face on his sleeve of his tattered shirt. He didn't care much about appearences. "Delicious," he remarked to himself and snapped his teeth together.
He scratched habitually at his scar and started to walk away. "Though his blood wasn't as good as others I've sampled," he added. He adored blood from females; virgins especially. Something about their blood was just so much sweeter.
He sniffed the air and thought he smelled the scent of other vampires. "Oh, how interesting! Maybe we can have a party," he said, his voice a low, disturbing hiss.

Wait
I'm coming undone
Irate
I'm coming undone
Too late
I'm coming undone
What looks so strong so delicate
Username: Atomic Octopus
Name: Orpheus ( Does not go by this name anymore )
Nickname/Alias: Crowe
Age: Appears to be in his twenties
Gender: Male
Attractions: Females
Favored God: Hades
Hated God: Zeus
Likes: Anything morbid or macabre
Dislikes: Cheerfully optimistic people
Gift of the Gods: Highly skilled in the black arts, can transform into a shadowy red-eyed crow.
Curse from the Gods: He isn't very physically strong, he relies on magic instead.
Weapon of choice: Only the art of communicating with and controlling the dead.
Personality: Very gloomy and dark, resulting from the all the time he has spent around the deceased.
History: Through the years, Crowe had gotten very skilled at necromancy. When someone very close to him died, he attempted to resurrect her at a great risk to himself. He succeeded, but in doing so he angered Hades, the god who he adored most of all. Hades of course couldn't let the act of bringing a person from the land of the living to the land of the dead go unpunished. Hades forced Crowe to become one of his henchmen for his foolish act and sent the person he loved back to the Underworld. Crowe assumed Hades recognized his power with black magic and wanted to utilize it. Since then, Crowe has been doing exactly that, taking care of Hades's dirty work in the world of the living.
Source of Income: Money isn't too important to him, but he does as Hades tells him to do.
Other: He dislikes snakes.
Portrait:
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High above the forest near the city, a ragged bird with dark plummage soared on the currents of warm air. But this creature was more than it appeared to be. It was Orpheus, one of the God of the Underworld's servants, though now Orpheus went by the name of the bird he favored changing form into, the crow.

Crowe assumed his orders would be something involving the impending conflict he had heard about. War was apparently brewing, and he knew he would be fighting for his lord and master, Hades. He knew the dark arts well and thought himself an asset to any battle. Maybe he was being sent to scout out whatever was brewing in the city. His ominous crow form gave out a shrill 'caw' and began to flutter down. He hoped there was a graveyard somewhere nearby, but he wasn't certain. There was no place that Crowe felt more comfortable than in a cemetary.

Crowe heard commotion and perched his slender talons upon a branch while he observed the scene. There was a girl tied up and men surrounding her. "Hmm. What's this?" he thought curiously. He stayed in his avian disguise and watched, calling out with another 'caw'.

Cast from heaven, amongst the
fallen am I
Wings clipped, unable to fly.
A demon cursed
in lust and arrogance well versed




ȂɬȧʂϮɇɍ Ƚȧɀȧɍȗȿ


There was a grand, well kept mansion that sat on a hill overlooking the town. It looked a lot like a castle due to it's town walls and lofty turrets. It was a beautiful place, but visitors rarely stepped within it's walls. Rumor had it that the man who owned the mansion was an Incubus, a dangerous demon. Most dismissed these allegations because when the master of the house was seen leaving, he looked quite human indeed. Still, people were told to stay away from the ominous house.

It was the morning and the first rays of light started to glare through the heavy curtains of Alaster's expensively furnished bedroom. The demon slowly opened his eyes and blinked multiple times. His eyes were almost frightning, a dark coal color with irises of dark red. He was obviously attractive, but he looked so inhuman. He slid out from under the covers and slipped on a pair of pants to cover himself with. He stepped closer to the window and unfurled his bat-like wings, stretching them out dramatically. Then he turned to the form that was laying in his bed. It was a girl, maybe not much older than a teenager.




So ‘neath gibbous moon as substance
that can be called shadow.
I hunt the scent of innocence.
A loathsome lothario dancing on the wind
delivering desire to those yet to be sinned.

Why hello, I'm: Alaster Lazarus
Someone's watching me...: Atomic Octopus
And I happen to be a: Collector - Lust
Oh you flatter me, I'm: Unknown
Oh...the fighting...well: For the Collectors
Aren't I a looker:
You know, I'm special: He's an Incubus, a lustful demon by nature. He has the power of flight thanks to his bat-like wings and has unusually sharp teeth. He has other powers, but only uses them when the opportune moment arises.
Shh I have a secret: As a demon, he has a weakness to any holy items from crosses to holy water.
That's okay though, look: Personality wise, there isn't much good about them. People may say that there is still human in him but really the chances of that are very slim.
I usually am like this: Devious, underhanded, very lecherous, conceited, and he won't stop until he gets what he wants.
My history lesson: Not much is known about Alaster when he was young, but the servants in his home believe his story to be the same as most of his kind: In his human life, he gave into his lust without a second thought and was cursed to live out his immortal life as a monstrous demon. But it is only the servants specualtion.
Through the years he has made a hefty sum of money from collecting and selling the souls of innocents that have given into the pleasure of lechery. Since he has made so much money, he doesn't need to sell anymore and feeds on the chaste purely for his own pleasure. He now lives in a large castle-like home surrounded by young servants that cater to his every whim. Whatever that may be...
You and me buddy, let's go: No particular weapons
Before I forget: He can alter his appearence to look more human; a perfect power for seducing unsuspecting prey.

heart
Story:




In a future not all that far from the present, a totalitarian government has taken hold of the city of Obsidis, led by the One True Leader. His regime has eradicated everything from literature and art to religion. Why? For peace of course. As long as no one is expressing their opinions, there will be no chaos. But in doing this, our own individuality has been sacrificed.

Most citizens don't recognize anything is wrong with the way things are run as they spend their days plugged into The Game, where you can be whoever and whatever you wish. The Game has become an opiate for the masses; no one will consider the oppresive rule of the governnment while most of them are nestled in their own worlds. Even The Game is closely monitored by Sentinels, agents of the Leader, who will be on watch if anything goes wrong. The agents also patrol the streets as well and their duties are to squash any potential uprisings and arrest troublemakers.

The group that causes the most trouble is the Righteous Order, a resistance group of writers, various artists and even religious leaders who recognize the freedom that is being lost. Anyone who is sympathetic to their cause is welcome to join. Their hideout is in the abandoned and intricate tunnels of the subway system and it is also where most of them live, as they don't have anywhere else. There they plot ways to slowly overthrow the government. They wish to start out small, doing things such as vandalism, printing of books and pamphlets about themselves, and mainly causing trouble for the current rule. Most want the governement overthrown with as few deaths as possible.
But there are other people that have different ideas on how freedom is to be regained...
Rules:

1. No Godmodding!
2. Any romance above PG-13, take it to the pms
3. Be semi literate at least! That means no one liners. I'm sure you can manage at least four sentences.
4. Use proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation. Use what you learned in english class, people.
5. Please pm me your profiles. Once I accept them, Please post them in the occ thread.
6. Try to post every day or at least once every couple of days. Do not just post once and never post again.
7. No killing another person's character without their permission.
8. Be creative with posts! :3 Add pictures, color and text if you want to.
9. Use (( )) [[ ]] for speaking OOc.
10. Have fun!

If you have any questions, don't hestitate to pm me.
Name: Kain Romero
Age: 24
Personality: He's bascially the epitome of a spoiled brat. If he wants something, he knows that people will get if for him. He loves attention of all sorts. He is also well aware that he's such a heartthrob and is quite the narcissist.
Likes: Music of course, Bourbon, Partying, the ladies, fast food, his guitar, horror movies, He secretly likes cheesy hawaiian shirts
Dislikes: Not having things his way, Chick flicks, the great outdoors (He would die if he was away from civilization for a week)
Bio: A while ago, Kain formed a rock band with a few friends, not expecting it to get anywhere. But they became more and more popular and started signing record deals, traveling cross country and having concerts everywhere they went. It was good for a while, but Kain started getting a big head and started partying excessively without the other band members. Eventually, his former friends kicked him out of the band even though that meant they would have to find another singer and guitarist.

Kain actually didn't mind much though, as he thought he was better than the rest of them anyway. He's been more popular solo than he ever was with his band. Ironically, his former band hasn't had much success without him. He lives a pretty sweet life at the moment. He's enjoying his multitude of fans as well as the chaotic rockstar lifestyle.
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