Welcome to Gaia! ::

Unbeknownst to the Horsemen, their activities had caught the attention of a sinister evil who sought to welcome them into the great game, where losers met a premature death, and winners—there were hardly enough winners to gain credibility for that answer. Upon entering the warehouse, things would seem normal, suspiciously empty even, not a soul around. In truth, the warehouse had been rigged from its foundations and surroundings to the roof, perhaps beyond. A bizarre combination of lights, special effects, holograms, explosives, drugs, all of it to bring them into a new world entirely. All it took was one wrong step—or a right step, depending on the perspective—to set off a series of unfortunate events.

In a flash of black, the door sealed tightly behind them, and a bizarre variety of special effects produced a seemingly authentic display of a mysterious wonderland surrounding them, a world they couldn’t quite recognize but felt oddly familiar, the products of their own imagination manifesting in a way that felt frighteningly realistic; the two victims sharing in their madness as they found themselves in the woods, with dark trees bending at the left and right (pale trees with black spirals engulfing them), opening a path forward, though a thick fog obscured their vision of what was ahead, whereas a thick assortment of trees clinging tightly together prevented them from moving backwards, a message carved on the wood, a quote from Soren Kierkegaard stating, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” At their feet, stones paved the trail forward, and small flowers glowing an eerie blue adorned the ground. With each step, strange objects in front of them—mementos of the past—floated right past them, falling behind. However, an odd growl came, soft yet noticeable, a strange sound of a monster that sounded like it was right behind them, yet each time they turned, there was nothing there, just the discomforting sensation of two eyes that watched them with malevolent intent. As they moved forward through the fog, the path behind them became increasingly obscured by the fog, and an eventual crossroads came, a wooden sign on the ground painted with, “What’s right is what’s left if you do everything else wrong.” Again, a sound from behind came, this time the sound of their loved ones cried out for them, a haunting despair in their voices, whispering their names repeatedly, calling them backwards. It was all overwhelming; the voices brought about an unpleasant ringing in their ears from their lack of response, though the voices would not answer. It seemed the path behind was riddled with desperation, the haunting past, whereas the path forward was painfully unclear, an apparent uncertainty for what awaited them there.

Talking to her so directly seemed to ruin the whole point of her being invisible in the first place. Then again it seemed like the point was moot anyway. Andrea watched Owen go off to the right. She was certain they were supposed to go left, but she was a little hesitant to part ways. However the choice was soon made for her when Owen vanished into the ground and they were separated anyway. She figured that possibly couldn’t be a good thing, though if he was truly in trouble or injured the link would tell her. Either way it didn’t seem wise to follow, so she turned to the left. Not far down the path Andrea encountered a strange white rabbit wearing a waistcoat of all things. Invisible or not, noticing her or not, it started speaking when she arrived in a moment that was entirely to coincidental to not be related to her arrival. “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” It exclaimed before taking off down one the many trails. Where it once stood a message on the ground. “Follow the white rabbit.” Well the first message had seemed to hold true so she had no reason not to listen to this one. She took off at a jog after the rabbit only to come to a small clearing with a long table full of cakes and tea cups. A very strange looking man in a tall hat and more talking animals. If only she had seen Alice in Wonderland in her life she might hazard a guess as to what was to come next. Instead she only found herself wondering what sort of drugs the creator of this place must be on as she waited for whatever would happen next.

In the other cell, the woman seemed surprised, almost a gasp. “Are you real, or a voice in my head? Where are we? I recall entering a wareho—” Before she could finish speaking, the sound of footsteps could be heard, the sort of footsteps found from a staircase, as a torchlight could be seen growing larger to signify people nearing. What emerged were three men clad in red armor, identical to one another, and they each had strange body shapes, flat and card-like.

“You’re set for your trial soon, and you’ll pay for the tarts you’ve stolen with your life, should our queen’s judgement fall ill upon you, villainous knave,” said the guard. It must have been a warning for him to say his prayers, since the queen would likely be in a foul mood at her tarts being eaten. He received his words, but the sound of a cell being unlocked could be heard as a woman was dragged from her cell (likely the same woman he had spoken to previously), pleading for her life and proclaiming she had only been tasked with investigating a warehouse before she was struck in the head silent and taken away for her own trial, which—though it was unspoken—was for trespassing.

Meanwhile, back at the Mad Tea Party, there was humor to spare. Her lack of answer must have been entertaining, because the March Hare and the Mad Hatter laughed together after having heard it, the Dormouse even somewhat conscious—though still asleep—laughing along. However, the Mad Hatter would speak first, bringing the odd laughter to an end. “I have not the slightest idea, but the real question is, ‘Who are you?’” he asked. If she glanced down at herself, she would find herself in a blue dress, unaware of when she changed, only that it felt quite real, from the sway of the skirt to the fitted corset beneath.

Did the laughter mean she had passed or failed whatever acid induced test this was? Andrea hadn’t the slightest clue. Though she took it as a positive sign when the only human proceeded to ask her another question rather than suddenly plummeting through the ground as Owen had done. Things suddenly got uncomfortable as a corset squeezed her upper body. Bloody hell. She thought as she finally gave up on the invisibility. Clearly it wasn’t doing anything anyway. She examined the dress for a second, mildly wondering what would happen if she attempted to murder all three at the table. Not very productive, but it would feel good. Better to just keep playing along. “I am no one.” She answered. She figured she was supposed to answer with the name of whoevers this accursed dress belonged to, but she didn’t have a clue who that was. She wasn’t about to give up free information about who she was, as futile as that seemed at this point. “You didn’t happen to have seen a white rabbit go by here have you?” Hopefully things were going better for Owen, though he seemed as equally as frustrated as she was. Or was it just her own frustration affecting them both. It was hard to tell with the Mind Link sometimes.