lostcarnival | ⇨ ATLANTIS

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⇨ ATLANTIS

Who: Everyone!
When: The morning of D44 and onward.
Where: The ocean realm of Atlantis.
What: The carnival abruptly arrives at an underwater realm, and everyone is transfigured into merpeople just as suddenly.
Warnings: Body horror, I guess.

THE CITY OF ATLANTIS↴

The visit starts without much warning, but at least there is a full week of free time before performances start. In the meantime, your characters will be given ample opportunity to adjust their acts for an underwater audience, get used to their new fishy appendages, or just spend the whole time enjoying the sights and sounds of Atlantis city. King Triton will not be immediately seen, but it's possible to gain an audience with him if you get in contact with the ambassadors of the kingdom. Just, make sure that you're not wasting his time. He's a lot less patient with nonsense than the Ringmaster is.

► FISH FRIDAY: You fell asleep, whether or not that's something you usually do, and the next morning you wake up as one of the merfolk. A few last additions may grow in after you're awake, but for the most part everyone will have a method of swimming and a method of breathing underwater transfigured into them upon waking. Don't worry about your belongings - everything is waterproofed, and technology will work the same underwater as it does above it. That doesn't mean there won't be plenty to get used to, though.

► GREAT BLUE YONDER: The ocean realm where Atlantis resides is enormous, and the depths seem to be unending. Despite the fact that there doesn't seem to be any surface, sun glimmers all the way down to the ocean floor. Atlanteans use creatures like whales and dolphins as rides and beasts of burden, and they can be seen swimming in and out of the city as constantly as roadways filed with cars in earth civilization. Beyond that, there's everything you would expect to see on the ocean floor here - huge reefs of coral, both familiar and exotic, enormous ocean plants, deep ocean trenches, and all kinds of weird critters living in them. There are a mix of mythical and standard ocean creatures, and are likely a combined populations of many oceans worth of beings.

► THE ATLANTEAN MARKET: The Atlantean market (aka the "merket") is a long trench between rows of buildings in the middle of the city, lit with bio-luminescent plants and rocks, and filled with all kinds of weird mer stuff that you can buy. There are a great many individual booths, mostly with hand crafted wares and objects that have been salvaged from various sunken ships. The Ringmaster has already traded a large number of goods to the merfolk here, and has taken the profit to award each worker with 100 Atlantean Gold to spend as they please. One gold is worth roughly five USA dollars, for a comparison of how much that is. There is a top level set up below in which characters can make their purchases, and you can also handwave the purchase of random common, necessary items (food, drink, etc) at your convenience.

► TREASURE HUNTING: Right now, the only major salvage areas are a few left over sunken ships that have mostly been picked over by the merfolk. However, you are welcome to head over to them and explore, and see if fortune smiles on you when it comes to finding anything that hasn't been taken yet. The current options are three similar looking brigantine that all probably came from the same world. Merfolk do not seem to consider them to be anything extraordinary, though magical items and gold have allegedly been found within them. Whether or not anything is left, is the real question.

► LIMELIGHTING: Merfolk are curious and generally socially forward, as a species. This mean that they find the carnival's workers to be a fascinating novelty, and also are unafraid to make that fascination obvious. Given the opportunity, merfolk will demand your character's attention for bombardments of questions and for general socializing, especially if they are particularly unusual for some reason. Don't be surprised if you get invited to stay at total stranger's houses, or dragged off to a merfolk bar to surprise party with their friends. They'll let you say no, reluctantly, but they will also be pleased as punch to get up in your gill.

It's also possible to make some money, this way, if you're willing to do street performances, or are willing to sell your "skills" in a more private environment. Yes, there are opportunities to become a fish hooker if you are so inclined. Merfolk may also offer money to take you as arm candy to various public events, escort style. They don't consider this to be a particularly socially inappropriate thing to do, either.

You can ask general questions about this setting over on the event post. There are top levels below for buying Atlantean merch, and also for making dolla dolla, if your character is inclined to try.

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Sans hasn't gone out yet, today. He's still not sure if he's really feeling it, even if the idea of checking out the ships is tempting. Right now, though, he's just doing his cursory stroll around the grounds - or scuttle swim, as it more closely resembled at the moment.

He's still pissed off about the Ringmaster taking Papyrus on that little adventure, but whatever. He finds himself vaguely checking around Papyrus's trailer area, only to discover him recently absent.

He follows the trail towards some of the carnival rides - specifically the mirror maze. He sees Papyrus from behind, a distance away. This is normally when he'd teleport, but that's a little more complicated here, so instead he skitters on over.

"Huh. Those got bigger," he says, still managing to appear out of nowhere, despite himself.

"Huh?" Papyrus twists around to see who it is, his lower body turning more slowly thanks to the extra drag and unfamiliarity. It's harder to turn on a heel when you have eight of them.

It's Sans, almost certainly referring to the crystals that he himself is so preoccupied with, because why would someone come up and talk about something else than whatever Papyrus is thinking about, especially when using pronouns all over the place?

"I know! They started itching last night," Papyrus wails. But for all that his voice and expression are anguished, his emotions don't overwhelm him so much that he can't be gentle as he taps the crystal growths with the side of the pinchier claw. "And sometime this morning I noticed they were dragging in the water? And bigger?? I think they're still growing, too...!"

He lets out a sigh and drops his head so suddenly that a few bubbles churn in the water around him. "I thought I would get cool long feet like you did, not... rocks in my head???"

Cool long feet. Heh. Not that Sans hadn't wondered himself if Papyrus's changes would take a similar route - of course, they don't look much like each other to start with, so why would they? Can't have anything too familiar.

Of course, Sans's cool feet are nowhere to seen at the moment, replaced by dozens of small grasping legs.

"There's still time," he comments, with a note of humour. "Not that you'd know when you're busy being a lobster. But hey, I didn't know you were into long feet, bro."

Meanwhile he's trying to get a closer look at those rocks.

"What?? That's not what I mean!" Papyrus protests. He laughs a little, distracted from his distress at the absurdity of the idea. Next Sans would be talking about dog marriage. "I'm not into long feet. Nothing against the bone dogs, but I don't want to be a dog. Not even part dog. But you're taller than you used to be! I want to be taller too. And try boots that fit feet like that!"

He glances down at Sans' body, tilting his head to examine his brother's current feet. Not dog-like in the slightest, and even more stubby legs than Papyrus has. How awful?

The rocks growing from his head are translucent crystals, split in almost the right shape and color to resemble the crown he'd inherited from Asgore. They're not alone; there's the occasional spattering of tiny orange crystals all over his body. But those barely protrude, more like parts where his bone has turned to crystal than places where rocks are growing from him.

"Or, you were. Now you're shorter and rounder than ever. Being a whatever-you-are-right-now."

"Come on, bro, don't get cold feet about cool feet," he teases absently. This sound pretty appropriate for Papyrus logic, though he can't imagine what shoes he must be thinking of.

"I think it's called a trilobite," Sans says with a little shrug that spans multiple sets of arms. "But, hey. I'm not trilobitter. We'll be back to normal eventually."

Meanwhile, he taps a claw at the base of one of Papyrus's head crystals, having floated up in the water so that he's looming over top. It doesn't look like there's any cracks in his skull, so these should probably be fine.

"That hurt?" he asks

Edited 2017-01-30 00:27 (UTC)

Who even knows with him. Probably something with absurdly high heels, or some kind of shoe that only goes on the toe/paw area.

"Saaaans," he complains at the pun. "That didn't even rhyme, bite and bitter are different sounds!"

Papyrus watches Sans float up, keeping his head still so nobody taps anybody else in the eyesocket or anything.

He does still prefer the idea of being taller. On the other hand (not that Papyrus has hands right now), having fingers that end in claws like Sans, instead of these giant snapping things, sounds really appealing right now. Maybe being part bone dog wouldn't be so bad.

"I'm surprised to say, no. Unless a continuous itch is a hurt?" He's pretty sure it isn't.

"Ah, yeah," he concedes serenely. "That one would have come across better in prose. Maybe I'll send it to you again later in letter form."

Along with having gained an exoskeleton, Sans's torso and up are pretty much normal, which is nice. The lower half admittedly make it hard to stand up straight, but thankfully there's been no need to do that since they got here.

"But, that sounds pretty normal for changes. You're not the first guy I've seen sporting crystals like this." He scratches the skull bordering the stone a little, for good measure. Mostly just to see what happens with the itch.

"Just what I want, written puns to keep me company when I don't have enough in my life." He's smiling at the idea, and not a pity smile. They would be better rereading than his current collection of letters.

Really, he just needs to get more reading material. Moving here for a year without any books from home wasn't his best thought out plan. Maybe once they're not underwater anymore...

Then Sans scratches at his itchy skull, with small sharp fingers that can actually reach that area where the growths emerge. It doesn't completely stop the feeling, since the itch starts up again, but it's enough that Papyrus sighs and relaxes.

"Others had this before? Maybe someone.. made an itch ointment. Or something."

Yeah, fair enough. All those letters suck, Sans agrees. He'll have to remember that Papyrus needs more reading material, though...

Grinning a bit wider at the way that Papyrus relaxes at the bit of relief the scratching gives, Sans scratches him a bit more as he considers that Papyrus has suggested. That would be reasonable, wouldn't it?

"Oh, yeah, probably. Most people around here just hate admitting when they're beat so much they'd never go looking for help in the first place," he says, snorting. "Raiding the medical tend would turn out better than going in there, anyway," he says, gesturing at the maze. "Those guys will just spend the whole time yanking your chain."

Papyrus brightens at the confirmation, adding a stop to the medical tent to his to-do list. It hadn't occurred to him, not with how upset he'd been after waking up.

As Sans discourages him from going in the maze, he glances away from maze and brother alike. Not so far that it turns him away where Sans can't reach, because the scratching is helping, but enough to avoid eye contact. Not as casually as he intends.

"I'm not going in for the conversation," he explains. "I just want to... see. There's no mirrors in my trailer."

Possibly there weren't any in the first place, or possibly the vampire previously in residence had them removed. It's a mystery, but not an intriguing enough one to solve. Not when there's such a convenient cluster of mirrors available for anybody to just walk right into.

In any other locale, he might have made due with a puddle, but that's not quite an option at the moment.

Sans pauses in his movements - not because he's actively intending on stopping with the scratching if it's helpful, but because Papyrus seems even more dejected about this than he'd initially observed. His grin falls to something more neutral. He gives the crystal stubs on last scratch before floating back down to eye level.

"The mirror people like to mess with your reflection, but if we go in together I could fact check it for you," he says. "You know, keep 'em honest."

Once Sans pulls away, the itch reasserts itself. Like his skull doesn't know where it starts and ends anymore, like he can almost feel the crystals as part of him and yet also separate. Clearly, once they finish with this and a run to the medical tent, Papyrus needs to find a long thin stick to continue the scratching. Maybe a fork would do the job, he managed to just hold one of those yesterday.

"Hey! I didn't think of that," he admits. "Good idea! I would have gone in, and believed whatever they showed me, as long as it felt close." Given what it does feel like, he would have had a bad time.

"Heh." Sans moves towards the maze, ready to do this if Papyrus is. "I know these guys by now. They're not so bad when you can catch them off the job, but messin' with people's heads is just their nature."

"Thanks to my changes, though, I haven't had to worry about 'em too much." He waits at the door.

"Thanks to your changes, huh?" Papyrus examines his brother as he follows, considering the ways his body has changed. Or, had changed before it changed again. Tail and claws and feet, glowing eye and glowing skull tattoo... "Did you growl at them, Sans?"

Sans chortles quietly, gesturing that Papyrus can go into the maze first. It's not quite that simple, but it's easier to show than it is to explain.

"You'll see in a minute," he says, mysteriously, and waits for Papyrus to go ahead.

The problem with the mirror maze... Well. One of the problems with the mirror maze is how the path changes. Like the mirrors move around when people aren't looking at them. Between that, and how reflections move and change shape and say awful things... Going in is good for putting oneself in a bad mood, or feeling relieved by the lack of mocking phantasms after leaving, but not for having an easy and comfortable time.

Just having his brother come along, offering to help make it less awful, is so much better than it could have been. Papyrus would be skipping even if he were on two legs and not in water.

As it is, he scuttles confidently down the path, reflections following on both sides. Even when he looks, and the first reflection has a comically oversized crown on a weighed-down skeleton's head, he only shivers a little bit.

"Okay, I'm watching! What am I seeing?"

First off, initially Sans's reflection lags behind - in fact, when they enter, at first he doesn't have one at all. Once they've stopped to contemplate things, however, his reflection abruptly catches up, appearing as if by teleportation. Sans's reflection looks... normal?

Except, really normal. So normal, in fact, that Sans doesn't look like a trilobite at all in his reflection - he looks like he normally does in the carnival, wearing his normal clothes and sporting his normal dog feet and tail. It's like the changes of this new world haven't affected Sans's reflection at all.

What is less normal is that the reflection is moving totally independent of Sans himself, looking at Papyrus's reflection at an angle that doesn't make any sense based on the way Sans is standing. Observing the crown's relative side, Sans's reflection reaches over and flicks reflection Papyrus in the face - it doesn't affect real Papyrus, but it does make his reflection balk like it's been caught red handed.

It crosses its arms, unimpressed, and then allows its representation of Papyrus to drift to something closer to normal.

"See what I mean?" Sans asks, after a moment, briefly bumping fists with the mirror.

"You made friends with your reflection!" Papyrus concludes after watching it play out, appreciative and approving. "And... something else. It still looks like you did before."

Not before before. Though that would be interesting and strange to see, especially towards the end of the year, after he gets used to all of this.

But they're not really here to admire his brother's helpful reflection. His own reflection still stands, seemingly accurately reflecting his red-shelled additions and rock speckles. It looks a lot more annoyed than he feels, glancing over at Sans' reflection like it can't wait for his brother's to leave. And the crown...

Sans seems satisfied with how it looks, brother and reflection alike. So that three-pronged growth on his head, yellow like the golden crown, must be about right.

"Wow, I thought I'd put the crown down for good!" He nudges the crystal with the side of his claw, and it only moves with his head. It sure is growing out of him. "Glad it doesn't weigh much!"

Sort of. More accurately his reflection just does or does whatever his subconscious wants to do - which, sometimes aligns with his real desires and sometimes doesn't. But, as fascinating as that is magically, Sans isn't the sort to get into it unprovoked.

His reflection leans in extra close to Papyrus's just to emphasize its presence, seemingly amused with its irritation. In the meantime, real Sans is thinking over the implications of Papyrus's reaction.

"Think you can handle it?" he asks. Read: are you okay?

The friendly reflection has exactly the kind of annoying grin that Sans has worn, many a time, while punning him. It's a lot less exasperating when it's aimed at somewhat else. Even if that someone else looks like himself.

"It's... difficult," Papyrus admits, tapping on the crystal once more before lowering his claws. "I wore it, because everybody wanted me to look the part. It helped them feel better..." As he's unsure whether it made him feel better or worse, he drops the train of thought there. Instead, he looks down at himself.

"Plus, I don't even have hands!" He laughs, and it's not forced; a triumphant laugh at thinking of a pun Sans hadn't already made.

Sans is feeling pretty down about that response, up until the part where Papyrus puns masterfully and laughs. Sans's Grin widens and he snickers though his teeth, leaning over to nudge his brother with an elbow as a show of approval.

"I knew you got a kick outta my jokes. Caught you red handed, bro."

Papyrus grins, guilty as charged. Then the layers of the pun sink in. Red-handed. Handed, hypocrisy, and red. He stares down at his mottled red claws, then buries his face behind one of them, shaking with silent laughter.

"Ohhh, that's awful. How do you think of them so quickly?"

"Hey, gotta be useful for somethin', don't I?" he quips, grinning oh so sincerely as he watches his brother laugh. Yeah, this is much better than what he was doing a few months again. He didn't realize how good it would be just to be there with Papyrus, even if things at home weren't fixed. The idea of handling all of this alone feels less and less appealing as the days go on.

Meanwhile, Sans's reflection apparently gets hype on that same vibe, and moves to slip an arm around Papyrus's reflection in a genuine side hug, even if the reflection is actually some kind of mirror spirit. It does not look particularly pleased about that either. Sans doesn't immediately notice.

Reflection Papyrus stiffens at the hug, because what even. Gestures of affection are not even slightly what they're all about, on or off the job. If these people aren't going to listen to their fears and doubts, they could really get going. Any minute now.

Papyrus, the real Papyrus, elbows his brother in late retaliation for the pun. His smile slips a little bit at Sans' self-deprecating joke, because honestly. But Sans is watching and he doesn't want to give any more cause for worry, so he forces it back up.

"And, here you are, being useful in more than one way! Some of them are even genuinely helpful. Like giving me good advice!"

Oh... Okay.

His feelings on that are so conflicting. On one hand, there is a small swell of genuine pride at the idea of actually helping, but on the other, there is a flood of anxiety and self loathing that washes it out almost completely. His reflection looks similarly stunned, carefully pulling back from Papyrus's reflection as if something awkward has just happened.

Has it? Sans isn't quite sure. He just feels his own magical energies stir within his ribcage and head, making him feel a little bit off balance. He feels like he should be apologizing for something, but also like apologizing would be far too obvious.

"Don't..." he starts, and then swallows, and tries again. "Hey. Don't worry about it." He has to get something right occasionally, he thinks, and cuts himself off from saying it. More self deprecation obviously isn't going to make it any better.

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spaghettimonster - 2017-02-11 13:19 (UTC) - Expand

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⇨ ATLANTIS

LONG LIVE THE KING

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