<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 25pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">~:Tainted Perceptions:~</span></span></div><div align="center">(http://i50.tinypic.com/ixy0j4.jpg)</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Welcome, [you] to Wonderland.</span></span></div><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Walk with me, if you will, upon streets once cobbled and paved over with time; through a city that's held in a realm of eternal gray.  The sun never shines here, the clouds never leave.  Sometimes it rains, sometimes it drizzles and when it does it is as if all the misery in the world collects itself in the heavens only to return, to continue the viscous cycle.  It is perpetual, it is unending.  It is drab, it is gray and what colors....they're dark.  Even the blooms in the window-boxes seem out of place here, softer, darker as if viewed through smoke colored glasses.  Welcome to Wonderland. <br/><br/>Welcome to the world on the other side of the broken Looking Glass.<br/><br/>You never know who, or what, is going to be looking back at you.<br/><br/>Trash lines the streets and grimy shop windows are full of discount signs, announcing sales for things that are going out of business and simply out of style.  Moss grows freely in the gutters and toadstools bloom from sewer grates and the buses run slow, full of victims, their hands pressed against the smooth glass, their faces contorted in pleasure...and in pain.  For the predators are on the buses, unassuming, hidden behind newspapers and cell phones, behind books and smiling eyes.<br/><br/>The predators are on the streets, too.<br/><br/>From the whore on the corner, with her glassy eyes and too sharp teeth; her nails as red as blood.  Don't follow her home.  Don't go listen to their screams.  Don't go listen to hers.  And the bum on the sidewalk, Hatter's man to be sure, who rattles his change and gives a pat in thanks to all who offer their aid.  But don't look at him.  Don't look too long or you might recognize him later when that corner's taken you into an alley instead of further down the street.  Always look back.  It's when you look ahead that they get you.<br/><br/>There's carriers too, fleet men, thin, always in a hurry with somewhere to go, some package to deliver, heedless of who they might run into on the way, with bikes that seem to breeze by as if they flew.  Never late, always on time.  No.  Never that.  We can't be late.  We mustn't.<br/><br/>You can sell your soul here, you can trade it for a dime.  You can lose it on a bet and never know at the time.  It's a place of muchness and more, of memory and mice.  In the walls and in the floor, inching along the sidewalk quick for anything that might fall but even they have somewhere to go.  It's a place of sharks and there's blood on the water and on the walls and on her hands when she screams, when she fights and when she falls.  You're only safe when you ignore it.  If you can.<br/><br/>Innocence isn't possible here in Wonderland.</span></div><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">"The time has come," the walrus said, "To talk of many things."</span></span></div><br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">► Setting:</span></strong><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"> The setting is modern, the city is London and it looks...much as one would find above, with the occasional shift and change of doors and streets that don't always lead where they should.</span></em><br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">► Scenerio:</span></strong><em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"> What we have, is a shared 'dream', where the world is dark and the people come and go.  The how's of it, the why's, to be discovered and found out through the story itself.  Because of the generally short life span of group games and the essentially limited cast list with which we're using, we've found a way to deal with the problem of disappearing players.  Should you withdraw from the game, the Wonderland 'persona' which you used, will be freed up and made available to those who are interested without damaging the structure of the story.<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">► Notice on Damage/Healing:</span></strong> <em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Because of the very 'dream-like' nature of wonderland, and frankly the level of abuse here within the depraved, all damage heals itself with the crowing of the cock at first light.  Everything...expect the removal of limbs; sometimes they do...sometimes they don't.<br/><br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">► The Cast:</span></strong> <em><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><br/>→ <del>The Duchess</del> (Dahling)<br/>→ <del>The White Rabbit</del> (Wistful Dream)<br/>→ <del>The Dormouse</del> (Wistful Dream)<br/>→ <del>The Cheshire Cat</del> (Dahling)<br/>→ <del>The March Hare</del> (Amberghylles)<br/>→ <del>The Mad Hatter</del> (Ebb)<br/>→ The Queen of Hearts *<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 6pt;">Heavily canoned; inquire for details if interested.</span><br/>→ <del>The Mock Turtle</del> (Madmartigan)<br/>→ <del>The Gryphon</del> (Tumult)<br/>→ Bill the Lizard<br/>→ The Caterpillar<br/>→ The Knave of Hearts<br/>→ <del>The King of Hearts</del> *<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 6pt;">Currently claimed as an NPC for story purposes. Written by Katsue &amp; Dahling</span><br/>→ Tweedledee and Tweedledum<br/>→ The Queen's Tarts (Male or Female/Victims)</span><br/><br/><br/></em></span></em></span></em><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">[[While all interest is appreciated, we are currently <strong>not </strong>accepting new members at this time.  Thanks!]]</span></div><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">~<strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">IC Locations</span></strong>~</span></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">The City Streets (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=138969.0).</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Dark they are, mean and full of monsters, full of life.  Full of men without faces and messengers and tarts.  Mind the Knaves, mind the Hare, mind the Hatter and the Twins.  Mind the all, only the strong will win.</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">The Broken Cup (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=139142.0).</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">Neutral grounds, but for the Rabbit, who is seen waiting the tables as much as she is on top of them.  Here it's a little safer than the streets, a little quieter and fare more <em>real</em> than the rest of the world.</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">The Hatter's Hovel (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=139130.0).</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">A crumbling manse that seems supported by scraps of wishful thinking, the bricks mortared by their apathy and indifference to collapse. The attics are flooded, the basements are infested, and the things that cannot be found in the neck-high piles of detritus ought probably not to be looked for in the first place. It is a bleak, rotting place that shouldn't rightly exist, and in any more sane place it would not..</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">The Queen's Castle (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=139145.0).</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;">The Queen's Castle, in the very heart of the Red Light District, where her 'tarts' are on every corner and the Knave has been known to prowl the streets, while the Hare is a regular visitor.  They let rooms by the hour, or the night or the week. Just...mind your step and watch your front.</span>