Taking back the "Wonderland"

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The biggest moon imaginable, peering over the ocean-side cliff's horizon, blocking out the light of any stars. The moist, damp, dark soil. Pitch black walnut trees twist through the mouldy air like lightning. Healthy grass covered with dew is dispersed between the rough trails. The latter are littered with graves and small mausoleums. The entrance, blocked off with a black, cast iron fence and washed stone brick wall. The graveyard's centrepiece; a colossal headstone, it's tenant long since excavated.


I dug my dead tulpa Tepes out of it myself, and now this place is my Wonderland. It's been surprisingly adequate for forcing, despite not being the most accompanying one for me. Although I imagine it helps my tulpa, who now seems to want to be a skeleton forever. We can both agree that bone dragons are cool.


Something's been off in my Wonderland lately, though.


Originally, when I left my Wonderland, I had fun seemingly "throwing myself", flying backwards through the gate to the cemetery. Only recently did I think of turning to see what was on the other side of the gate, what it was meant to keep out.


Hands. An endless wall of hands.


I'm not sure if there are bodies on the other end of it; it's pitch black after the elbows. Regardless, I don't care; my Wonderland doesn't feel safe to me now, and I intend to either escape to another one or tear my way through the wall with Tepes' help. I will make sure to post the results of our exploits at a later time.

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I have fought the Wall Arms, as I will now call them.


I had decided to send myself into my Wonderland with music accompanying a strife of this magnitude. I regret this decision; Tepes had rushed me into the Wonderland, and I felt that I couldn't think properly. My vision seemed to flash in and out. Our desire to rush and my distraction through music lead to me having a weak connection to the Wonderland, making it awfully hard to fight the oncoming onslaught.


And boy, what an onslaught it was. The arms, simply arms with stubs at the shoulder, moved almost like sand. They'd pour over like a pile and crawl about. Things were just starting when I had actually entered the Wonderland itself, giving me enough time to conjure up a weapon from my arm and start to fight. It was particularly unwieldy and the arms seemed uncaring of it. We'd naturally need to scale things up to fight them.


"I don't think this is enough, Tepes."


"Go big or go home." he had replied.


Tepes took to the sky; I stayed on the ground and sprouted acid-spitting orifices from my arms. I sprayed it onto the horde while Tepes lit it ablaze. We managed to punch a sizeable hole through their numbers, but the wall was seemingly endless. More fell into place where the dead ones faded to ash. At this point, Tepes had decided to land again. I turned to look over at him. The figure I saw instead perplexed me.


A silver-coated humanoid being, covered with a faint argyle print. It's eyes were like tiny, snow-white eggs, while it's mouth was seemingly sewn shut like an iron window box. It's arms and legs were covered with a double-helix motif, one half pink-ish red and the other light blue. Nothing stood out about it's hands or chest, but it did seem to have steel toes like boots on it's feet. It didn't need to use them, though: it floated lazily in the air.


What's strange is that I immediately recognised it. I had never succeeded in warping my shape in the Wonderland, but this thing's presence allowed me to despite my weak concentration. I suspected it's presence was allowing me to change, and I then made the realization: it was a construct, subconsciously modeled after a Stand.


With confidence that it's power let me change shapes wildly, Tepes charged back in and I decided to go for broke; replacing my arms with colossal tentacles. They whipped about through the crowd effortlessly, but the arms' numbers seemed to never diminish. Distracted with the horde, I had failed until then to notice Tepes' situation. The arms had him by his front leg.


I dashed over as quick as possible, exchanging the tentacles for another arm-mounted blade. Wildly swinging to try and sever the arms grabbing him from the strength of the horde, he had pulled out, losing his skeletal forelimb in the process.


It is at this point we decided to cut our loses. We retreated to the central headstone, but the Wall Arms would not yield so easily. A colossal chunk of the living barrier broke off, creating great waves like a glacier. We threw ourselves into the grave, Tepes closing it before the flood hit. The silver-clad Stand was not with us physically, but I felt his presence. I dismissed it, as Stands are capable of disappearing like that.


And that's where I left. Tepes tells me he's safe in the closed grave, the earth holding the arms out. Soon, I'll find a way to get us away from the horde and investigate the shape-changing Stand. Although, I believe may just be a subconscious manifestation of a condition I have. (Supernumerary Phantom Limb Syndrome, or SPLS)


For now, I will name this Stand "Teenage Wasteland". I had originally thought of designing some Stands for a project, and something very similar to it with the same name was involved. Hopefully I'll be able to meet with it again.

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