Watch your step.

[D20ragon]

There is a bit of wonder in closed doors, wouldn't you agree?
For a moment, almost anything could be behind them. Whole worlds could exist, until the moment where you throw the door wide, the hinges swinging open to reveal the plain certainty of Fact.
But sometimes, that world doesn't want to vanish. Sometimes, that uncertainty would rather be real.
And sometimes, that swirling mass of possibilities becomes something a bit more.
And sometimes, it doesn't think it's quite fair that it has to hide behind a door, or in a box.
Sometimes, it wants to take you.
Children know this. That monsters hide in the darkness. That madness lurks in the closet.
That stories don't always have to stay in books.
And they know that just because the Real World of the grown-ups is stronger now, doesn't mean it always will be.
And now?
Wonderland wants you, and it's not waiting for you to follow the rabbit.
Oz isn't going to stay somewhere over the rainbow.
Never never land isn't so far away anymore.
Dreams aren't waiting for you to close your eyes.
The monsters are tired of hiding in the dark, and your stories are tired of just being read.




http://digital-art-gallery.com/oid/65/640x828_11834_Monster_in_the_Closet_2d_illustratio n_monster_children_closet_room_picture_image_digit al_art.jpg


http://visualnews.columnfivemedia.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Alexander-Jansson-Digital-Art-8.jpg


http://digital-art-gallery.com/oid/2/600x800_1465_Don_t_scary_2d_fantasy_child_female_c reature_monster_picture_image_digital_art.jpg



http://artofday.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/lubica_lintnerova_painting_european_fantasy.jpg






http://www.lamarelle.net/1325-large_default/carte-postale-le-miroir-nicoletta-ceccoli.jpg

Watch your step. It's far too easy to slip down a rabbit hole.


Once upon a time, there lived a number of children.
They were of all different shapes and sizes, lived in all sorts of different places, and had all different mothers and fathers.
This, when taken on its own, does not seem very unusual. The world is in fact full of children like this.
What made these children worth telling a story about was the fact that one late afternoon in June, after school had just been let out, Wonderland stole these children. Gobbled them up, just like that.
And very soon thereafter, they found themselves in the oddest place in this world, and would have to try very hard to escape, let alone survive.
Sit down, dear reader, and take some tea. Do try to keep it down.
I'm afraid this won't be an entirely pleasant story.

[WindStruck]

It was a long, hot, and boring day at school. Even though it was the last day of school, Minzy wasn't excited. She just didn't have anything to look forward to, really. Except less homework. But if not doing that, she quickly became bored. She didn't have any friends that she spent much time with outside of school, and her parents did not have any vacations planned; even if they did, she is not sure she would enjoy it. In fact, she never even used the swimming pool at her own home. Both her parents usually worked all day and were even out on the weekends. Most of her time was spent alone with her books or on the computer.

The other kids were really happy and excited, however. They misbehaved a lot more, and the teachers, however strict, just smiled and took it. Minzy usually wasn't picked on, if for any reason, because she was usually so quiet and just didn't attract much attention. However on this day, as she was heading over to the school buses, a group of mean, older girls threw some eggs at her. Even a boy sprayed silly string in her hair. Minzy just sighed and tried to ignore them.

When Minzy got home, she pondered what she might do first. Nothing really struck her fancy. Maybe she might turn on the TV and watch some news... but then she remembered she just got egged and felt quite sticky. She put her clothes in the sink to soak, then went upstairs to take a bath. She never ran the water too deep though.

After that it was around 4pm and her mom still wouldn't be home for an hour or two. She decided to change into her nightclothes early, as they were very comfortable and she wasn't planning on going anywhere or seeing anyone. While in her room, she considered turning on her computer to check... actually, why? She couldn't really think of anything, and was feeling too lazy to wait for it to boot up. Her bed looked more enticing. Maybe she would just take a quick nap, just until her parents got home.

Maybe she could help her mom make something, or they will have brought something home to eat. Lazily, she managed to drift into a sleep, imagining she was someone else and any place but here...

Even though Minzy is young, I imagine her as one of those child actors who just aren't that good and can only manage the same dull, blank stare no matter what happens. Well, at least in relatively mundane situations.

Minzy Maxwell

Pluck:0 / Luck:4
Fight:0 / Flight:4
Wit:0 / Wisdom:4
Hide:4 / Seek:0
Brains:4 / Brawn:0
Worker:0 / Dreamer:4
Afraid of: drowning

A very young, school-age girl (much like Alice in Wonder Land). Her family is very well off, with a big house and a swimming pool, even. However, she never goes swimming in it, not anymore. She has always been a quiet child, never sticking up for herself, and very lazy. Usually she just spends her time reading books. Old fairy tales are her favorite. Not the disney kind, but the original, Grimm type.

One night, after reading a particularly disturbing fairy tale from a book she had not noticed before, she eventually drifted off to sleep with much difficulty. But when she awoke, she came to... this... in just her little nightgown and without her glasses, which she needs to see.

[T-Mick]

It was a rather blustery day, that last day of school, as Paul hopped down the sidewalk in the direction of his home. Perhaps the gusts were the winds of change. Paul certainly thought so; particularly, he though that his life would be changing from rigid and stuffy to airy and free. As he walked, he admired the passing cars, wondering how the wheels manage to stop and start spinning without any help.

Now, technically, it was still spring, but the summer had started for the school children. No small amount of wondering was but into this little paradox, but the fact remained that Paul was free from school. This was not an entirely good thing, though. His parents usually didn't take much time to keep him as busy as his friends, and so he was often lonely during the summer. He thought about that as he walked, and it made him a little anxious. Sometimes, on long days, when his parents were away at work, they would leave him alone at home. He never stayed at home on those days. The silence made him uneasy, and it seemed like every closed door had something dreadful behind it. But no matter, on those days, he would visit his friend, Mr. Cecil, who lived two houses down the block. In fact, that was where Paul was going today.

Mr. Cecil was an interesting old man, because he had a lot of books, and because he was happy to share some of them, or even read from one of the old ones for Paul. Some of those stories were really awful and scary, but when they were finished, you always wanted more.

It was on that windy day that Paul walked in to Mr. Cecil's house, hoping to find the old man at his desk. But, though the door was unlocked, Mr. Cecil didn't appear to be home, and all his books were scattered about, excepting one, which laid open on the desk. It was big and blue, with silver, arabesque branches embroidered into the spine. Slowly, a bit nervously, Paul approached and sat at the desk, hoping to steal a glimpse at the nature of this enchanting book...

[1whoscribbled]

Closing the year off with a fight with the schools bully, he found himself feeling rather proud. He gave as good as he got and managed to break the junior's nose before a teacher pulled them apart. What made the thing even better though was that he would be moving before the new school year was going to start. "No fear of reprisal" he said with a smile as he walked home with a blackened eye and a whistle upon his lips ...

That was until the graveyard loom into his view and a odd bit of poetry popped into his head with a voice of a old mans lament speaking with a whispher:


"A world is filled with many things,
Not all of them nice,

He continued to walk along listen to the strange voice, cars filled with people racing home or to work passing him by.


There are men with knives lurking in the alley,
A smile from a women poisoning your drink,

Looking to his left away from the approaching graveyard he say Ms. Higgins tending her flower garden giving him a wave. She always had a old book or two laying around when for him to read when he visited for tutoring and had been a friend of the family for years. Waving back he thought how much he was going to miss her when he moved away. The strange rhythm of syllables matching with the rhythm of his steps


Your precious government watching you always watching you as you sleep,
Yet the worse thing in such a twisted place is its reflection of it truly can be,

As he finlly got close enough his eyes where drawn to the field of tombstones sprinkled upon the hill like some many sprinkles on a ice cream cone. With a morbid fasciation he found himself never really able too look away from the sight. He had tried to tell his parents about the strange fellings it gave him and the odd things he would sometimes see their but they never listened. And worse yet the straggly voice continued to drone on.


For where the subtleties of life are lifted away,
And where your dreams are starting to become true,
That terror of what the means,"

And just as the last verse was beginning to become spoken in his mind he say the dread gate. Wrought with a black iron that reflected no light and seemed to grow as tall as the sky as Marrlow walked benath the dreadful sight. A Fear began to grow within him, a sense of wrongness invaded every pore of his body as he looked up. A drizzle began and quickly grew into a storm that blotted out the sun leaving only darkness and thunder in its wake. And his fear only grew. He could not move from the one horrid spot beneath the looming gate, nor could he tear away his eyes from the void that appeared around him. No longer did he stand on the cracked sidewalk, no longer could he hear the sounds of passing cars. Only the storm raging above and that terrible voice finishing his little poem ...


"Means that nightmares can become true ... to."



Pluck 2/ Luck 2
Fight 1/ Flight 3
Wit 1/ Wisdom 3
Hide 3/ Seek 1
Brains 3/Brawn 1
Worker 3/ Dreamer 1

Fear: Ghost ( or shadows at night)
Wounds: 0
Madness: 0

A young man just starting high school with dreams of dragons and warriors. Often he hides in the library during his free time while at school and on his computer searches the net for new tales and stories he has yet to find in a book. Yet as the days grow shorter and the nights grow so much darker, he begins to think he is seeing things. Some seem like ghost dangling from trees, others like living shadows seeking to grab him from the sidewalk, but worst of all is the graveyard he has to pass twice each day. It is not the sight of hundreds of rotting corpses wandering about, not the howling wind filled with screams, it is the gate that always seems to loom over him no matter how far away he walks away.

[D20ragon]

It was a long, hot, and boring day at school. Even though it was the last day of school, Minzy wasn't excited. She just didn't have anything to look forward to, really. Except less homework. But if not doing that, she quickly became bored. She didn't have any friends that she spent much time with outside of school, and her parents did not have any vacations planned; even if they did, she is not sure she would enjoy it. In fact, she never even used the swimming pool at her own home. Both her parents usually worked all day and were even out on the weekends. Most of her time was spent alone with her books or on the computer.

The other kids were really happy and excited, however. They misbehaved a lot more, and the teachers, however strict, just smiled and took it. Minzy usually wasn't picked on, if for any reason, because she was usually so quiet and just didn't attract much attention. However on this day, as she was heading over to the school buses, a group of mean, older girls threw some eggs at her. Even a boy sprayed silly string in her hair. Minzy just sighed and tried to ignore them.

When Minzy got home, she pondered what she might do first. Nothing really struck her fancy. Maybe she might turn on the TV and watch some news... but then she remembered she just got egged and felt quite sticky. She put her clothes in the sink to soak, then went upstairs to take a bath. She never ran the water too deep though.

After that it was around 4pm and her mom still wouldn't be home for an hour or two. She decided to change into her nightclothes early, as they were very comfortable and she wasn't planning on going anywhere or seeing anyone. While in her room, she considered turning on her computer to check... actually, why? She couldn't really think of anything, and was feeling too lazy to wait for it to boot up. Her bed looked more enticing. Maybe she would just take a quick nap, just until her parents got home.

Maybe she could help her mom make something, or they will have brought something home to eat. Lazily, she managed to drift into a sleep, imagining she was someone else and any place but here...

Even though Minzy is young, I imagine her as one of those child actors who just aren't that good and can only manage the same dull, blank stare no matter what happens. Well, at least in relatively mundane situations.

Minzy Maxwell

Pluck:0 / Luck:4
Fight:0 / Flight:4
Wit:0 / Wisdom:4
Hide:4 / Seek:0
Brains:4 / Brawn:0
Worker:0 / Dreamer:4
Afraid of: drowning

A very young, school-age girl (much like Alice in Wonderland). Her family is very well off, with a big house and a swimming pool, even. However, she never goes swimming in it, not anymore. She has always been a quiet child, never sticking up for herself, and very lazy. Usually she just spends her time reading books. Old fairy tales are her favorite. Not the disney kind, but the original, Grimm type.

One night, after reading a particularly disturbing fairy tale from a book she had not noticed before, she eventually drifted off to sleep with much difficulty. But when she awoke, she came to... this... in just her little nightgown and without her glasses, which she needs to see.

Sleep came on slipper feet to the child, silver eyes roving behind closed lids.
Long soft arms lifted her up like a dream, blankets and all, and motes of sand drifted slowly onto the girls eyes from blue lips.
The bed quivered and stretched, legs flexing with a rusty squeak.
Sleep gave it a hard look, and it settled down again, grumbling resentfully.
Then, on legs light as pillow feathers, Sleep carried Minzy off, stepping out her window and onto a slender beam of moonlight.
Had anyone looked, they would have only been in time to catch a glimpse of blue silk pajamas disappearing behind a helpful cloud.
But nobody did.

More miles then you or I could count they flew, skipping nimbly between the moons crooked jaws, avoiding the dark places in the sky where Eldritch things slumbered, and leaping from nighttime clouds to land in deep seas of mist.
To this day, we do not know where Sleep would have taken her. Perhaps to a more pleasant place, a place where the stars laughed with you, and faeries rested in teacups.
But the story is the story, and we cannot change the fact that as Sleep danced over the head of a star, a owl swooped down, wings silent as thought, and snatched up the child.
Sleep stumbled mid stride, and fell back a pace as the bird laughed hugely, carrying off the bundle of blankets like nothing so much as a mouse.

And so, instead of having the wonderful party and flowers and cake that had been meant for her, Minzy awoke to a rather more nightmarish scene, as the great beasts talons pricked her skin through the blanket, and the wind tore cruelly at her hair, trying its hardest to rend it from her scalp.
The blankets where cold and wet, and her right foot ached from where a star had pinched it.

[WindStruck]

Minzy awoke to a great beast undulating overhead. The talons were an uncomfortable pressure on her, as was the wind, which was jarringly surreal. All she can do is gasp, realizing that she's flying, held in the clutches of what seemed to be a giant bird. She squirms futilely a bit before changing her mind and not wanting to be dropped. Shivering, she peers ahead through blurred vision, gazing upon the looming scenery before her.

[D20ragon]

It was a rather blustery day, that last day of school, as Paul hopped down the sidewalk in the direction of his home. Perhaps the gusts were the winds of change. Paul certainly thought so; particularly, he though that his life would be changing from rigid and stuffy to airy and free. As he walked, he admired the passing cars, wondering how the wheels manage to stop and start spinning without any help.

Now, technically, it was still spring, but the summer had started for the school children. No small amount of wondering was but into this little paradox, but the fact remained that Paul was free from school. This was not an entirely good thing, though. His parents usually didn't take much time to keep him as busy as his friends, and so he was often lonely during the summer. He thought about that as he walked, and it made him a little anxious. Sometimes, on long days, when his parents were away at work, they would leave him alone at home. He never stayed at home on those days. The silence made him uneasy, and it seemed like every closed door had something dreadful behind it. But no matter, on those days, he would visit his friend, Mr. Cecil, who lived two houses down the block. In fact, that was where Paul was going today.

Mr. Cecil was an interesting old man, because he had a lot of books, and because he was happy to share some of them, or even read from one of the old ones for Paul. Some of those stories were really awful and scary, but when they were finished, you always wanted more.

It was on that windy day that Paul walked in to Mr. Cecil's house, hoping to find the old man at his desk. But, though the door was unlocked, Mr. Cecil didn't appear to be home, and all his books were scattered about, excepting one, which laid open on the desk. It was big and blue, with silver, arabesque branches embroidered into the spine. Slowly, a bit nervously, Paul approached and sat at the desk, hoping to steal a glimpse at the nature of this enchanting book...


The child woke on as the clock struck thirteen. He was lying on something quite odd. Like a cool sheet it was, but with thousands of tiny hairs and fibers, a great field of papery dry grass. All about him, dark patterns etched into the ground stretched off to a distant horizon, running in great straight lines.
Above, a black sky so dark it seemed to shed some inky light of its own glowered down. The air felt like rain.
And what about the desk, the table, and for that matter the room, and all it's wonderful clutter? They too, were quite gone, leaving only a small boy with a head full of storybooks, quite alone.

[D20ragon]

Closing the year off with a fight with the schools bully, he found himself feeling rather proud. He gave as good as he got and managed to break the junior's nose before a teacher pulled them apart. What made the thing even better though was that he would be moving before the new school year was going to start. "No fear of reprisal" he said with a smile as he walked home with a blackened eye and a whistle upon his lips ...

That was until the graveyard loom into his view and a odd bit of poetry popped into his head with a voice of a old mans lament speaking with a whispher:


"A world is filled with many things,
Not all of them nice,

He continued to walk along listen to the strange voice, cars filled with people racing home or to work passing him by.


There are men with knives lurking in the alley,
A smile from a women poisoning your drink,

Looking to his left away from the approaching graveyard he say Ms. Higgins tending her flower garden giving him a wave. She always had a old book or two laying around when for him to read when he visited for tutoring and had been a friend of the family for years. Waving back he thought how much he was going to miss her when he moved away. The strange rhythm of syllables matching with the rhythm of his steps


Your precious government watching you always watching you as you sleep,
Yet the worse thing in such a twisted place is its reflection of it truly can be,

As he finlly got close enough his eyes where drawn to the field of tombstones sprinkled upon the hill like some many sprinkles on a ice cream cone. With a morbid fasciation he found himself never really able too look away from the sight. He had tried to tell his parents about the strange fellings it gave him and the odd things he would sometimes see their but they never listened. And worse yet the straggly voice continued to drone on.


For where the subtleties of life are lifted away,
And where your dreams are starting to become true,
That terror of what the means,"

And just as the last verse was beginning to become spoken in his mind he say the dread gate. Wrought with a black iron that reflected no light and seemed to grow as tall as the sky as Marrlow walked benath the dreadful sight. A Fear began to grow within him, a sense of wrongness invaded every pore of his body as he looked up. A drizzle began and quickly grew into a storm that blotted out the sun leaving only darkness and thunder in its wake. And his fear only grew. He could not move from the one horrid spot beneath the looming gate, nor could he tear away his eyes from the void that appeared around him. No longer did he stand on the cracked sidewalk, no longer could he hear the sounds of passing cars. Only the storm raging above and that terrible voice finishing his little poem ...


"Means that nightmares can become true ... to."



Pluck 2/ Luck 2
Fight 1/ Flight 3
Wit 1/ Wisdom 3
Hide 3/ Seek 1
Brains 3/Brawn 1
Worker 3/ Dreamer 1

Fear: Ghost ( or shadows at night)
Wounds: 0
Madness: 0

A young man just starting high school with dreams of dragons and warriors. Often he hides in the library during his free time while at school and on his computer searches the net for new tales and stories he has yet to find in a book. Yet as the days grow shorter and the nights grow so much darker, he begins to think he is seeing things. Some seem like ghost dangling from trees, others like living shadows seeking to grab him from the sidewalk, but worst of all is the graveyard he has to pass twice each day. It is not the sight of hundreds of rotting corpses wandering about, not the howling wind filled with screams, it is the gate that always seems to loom over him no matter how far away he walks away.


Blood roared in the lads ears, mingling with words, each syllable echoing like a drum, pounding in unison with his heart, until he could hardly tell where one left off and the other began.
His head throbbed, near to bursting, the blood surging against its boney prison.
Then, quite forcefully, it all stopped. The boy was left gasping for air. His head and heart both felt strangely empty, and a ringing echo filled his ears.
The world sprung back into place around him, carrying on as usual. He had just closed the year by winning a fight against the school bully, and was feeling rather proud. Now, he was walking home, and had paused... for some reason. He had the oddest sense of forgottign something awfully important.
Across the street, a cat batted something irritably, taking advantage of the child's presence to put on a show. Little screams and shrieks could be heard, as the cat did what cats do best, tearing delicately at small arms and legs.


Minzy awoke to a great beast undulating overhead. The talons were an uncomfortable pressure on her, as was the wind, which was jarringly surreal. All she can do is gasp, realizing that she's flying, held in the clutches of what seemed to be a giant bird. She squirms futilely a bit before changing her mind and not wanting to be dropped. Shivering, she peers ahead through blurred vision, gazing upon the looming scenery before her.

A vast forest rolled beneath her, trees as green and deep as the sea, and roaring with wind.
The bird swooped lower, sending gusts of green-smelling breeze in her face. The talons bit more cruely into her sides, but through a haze of trees and pain a nest began to form in her vison, great white sticks, bleached by the sun layer out in a ring large as a cottage, resting in the upper bows of a massive oak.
The owls wings beat the air furiously, as the beast struggled to bring itself to a stop, some 50 feet above the nest. Slowly, it's grip began to loosen. Below, the pile of sticks could not have looked more like bones, as, with a disgusting certainty, the girl felt herself begin to slip.

[WindStruck]

Minzy panicked as she felt herself falling. She was so high above the nest, she was certain she would be counted among the bones shortly. Desperately, she tried to grab a hold back on to the owl's talons, but to no avail. She squeezed her eyes shut and clung to the blanket, hanging on for dear life.


I guess it's time for me to start rolling, hmm? I am thinking part of the blanket gets snagged onto one of the owl's talons, which may actually hurt it and make it descent a bit. And the blanket could start ripping too, making another way Minzy is lowered.

luck: [roll0]