ringleaders: (Default)
Lost Carnival Mods ([personal profile] ringleaders) wrote in [community profile] lostcarnival2017-03-02 02:48 pm

HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

Who: The people who escaped!
When: Very early Day 66 to Day 67
Where: The Carnival
What: The Ringmaster brings everyone she can back to the carnival after getting kicked out the Celebration, a bit worse for wear. Those that have resolved their threads at the Masquerade can start trickling over here as they sort things out.
Warnings: Angst, mostly likely, as well as potentially graphic injuries.

RETURNING HOME

About 45 minutes after the conflict with the vampires begins, the Ringmaster will finally show her face at the Masquerade - and immediately be mortified by what she sees. Though initially mostly confused by the fact that there's been problems over the week, and characteristically obtuse about what's going on, as soon as she realizes the severity of the threat she will launch into action. If the Host managed to miss the combat already going on, they won't be able to miss the Ringmaster tearing up the joint and looking for her people. She's quick to scoop up those that have managed to gather in the dining hall - but unfortunately her arrival seems to be the vampire's cue to retreat.

Her attempt to challenge the Host about this will result in the being finally losing their patience and banishing all the vampires and all of the carnival workers from the premises, forcing them back to the portals they arrived from and launching their remaining belongings out with them. The Ringmaster will be pretty fucking pissed off when they return (once again) and will tell everyone to take the time they need to recover, but to stick together and stay safe for the time being. She has a plan to chase down the carnival members that have been stolen, but it will take time.

► BEER PONG: Apparently the Ringmaster spent the entire week playing a nonstop game of beer pong, against several dozen of the Host's bodies. She hadn't quite won yet when the Masquerade began, so she was late. Whether or not she was caught up in the same spell as everyone else is up to interpretation, but the answer "definitely probably." She won, for the record.

► MISSING: Upon doing headcounts, it will turn out that all the supervisors are missing, as well as several regular workers - a few of which will have been spotted as freshly turned vampires during the fighting. Whether that was the point of the attack or not is unclear, but it's pretty clear that the Ringmaster is a little bit devastated about it - particularly about the supervisors. However, she will refuse to talk to anyone long enough to get into too many details.

► THE PLAN: The Ringmaster will announce that she intends to get everyone back - it's just a matter of figuring out their way back to the dimension they've been stolen off to. She guarantees that she will find it, but that it may take some time. In the end, the workers will have a total of two days to recover and plan - during the evening of Day 67, she will be leading a rescue mission to get them all back. You don't have to come, but lives do depend on its success.
starseedling: (but everyone is so stupid)

THE KISSING BOOTH (HEALING FOR ALL)

[personal profile] starseedling 2017-03-02 09:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Steven managed to avoid getting seriously hurt during that whole mess, but his head is still fuzzy with the lingering psychic impressions of that place, and with the elf drugs he’d accidentally taken hours ago. Whatever that was, it definitely seems to last – he’s not hallucinating anymore (mostly) but his head feels bogged down and heavy.

He has a skill that is needed here, though, so he’s determined to offer it for as long as he can. His saliva has fairly powerful healing properties, and with Zecora out of the picture he’s not sure what other healers will be available. He plops himself down by the medical tent, still wearing his dress from the party and with his mask tossed off to the side. In its place, he seems to have some small rose buds and leaves in his hair, which is new, but he doesn’t really have the energy to notice. The white fabric of his fancy dress has managed to get torn up a little, and splattered with someone else's blood.

He yawns and curls his legs up to himself, his tail curling around his ankles. Steven looks totally out of it, but if anyone injured comes by the medical tent he’ll offer them his healing abilities. He may or may not tell them that it involves kissing, licking, or spitting on their wound first.
whattaprick: (sincerity)

NO HEALZ NEEDED but he's hanging out, so you know ... healers gotta stick together

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-03-02 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Unfortunately, Steven's solitude isn't destined to last long, because at this point an angry-looking man with scars on his face is storming towards the medical tent, clearly bent on some purpose. He's also wearing tattered finery from the masquerade, albeit in much worse shape than Steven's, because of being in combat ... even though the black cloth and heavy embroidery hides the worst of it, he's still very clearly bloody, though little of it is his own.

He'll stop short, though, once he sees the boy sitting by the tent. It's an unfamiliar individual (individuals below a certain height threshold are just particularly hard for him to remember, and kids blur into the background for him, so he can't come up with a name.

"If you're waiting on the doctor, she's not here, kid," is what he'll settle on, finally.

Hellooo, nurse.

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mossbuds: (butt tampons)

so uh

[personal profile] mossbuds 2017-03-03 01:04 am (UTC)(link)
Lars is eventually taken to the medical tent after his attack—and not too long after, thankfully. He's placed as carefully as is manageable onto one of the available cots, to which Lars is only partially responsive to. He just feels very weak, and very tired. The shredded lace from the Psiionic's dress is still tied tight around his neck, soaked with new and old blood. His complexion lacks its typical brightness and is somewhat ashy, and his breathing is slow and shallow.

He's not even fully comprehending of where he is—injury and blood loss aside, Lars was quite tired before he was attacked, and then his savior was attacked, which was also exhausting (mostly emotionally speaking). Now, he just... kinda wants to go to sleep.

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perverses: (40061608-8)

NOT INJURED JUST DUMB, SORRY STEVEN

[personal profile] perverses 2017-03-03 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
The last thing anyone in the medical tent needs or wants is some dumbass bursting in while yelling, "H-hey! Those guys or vampires or... or whatever! They did something to my head! Someone's gotta fix this!"

But that's what they're all going to get anyway and he will never be sorry for it. Apart from having a massive headache by the end and feeling like he could use a few hours of shut-eye, Shima hadn't fared too poorly during that mess. The worst, he thought, was his mask must have given him a rash because he couldn't stop scratching his forehead. It isn't right up until his scratching catches the edge of something — something that hurts to stick your finger into, apparently — that has him checking a mirror and then...

Well, long story short, he is now bursting into the medical tent in a panic and yelling a lot, arm thrown across the offending forehead in question.

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fragileandsoft: (forgot for a second everyone hates me)

[personal profile] fragileandsoft 2017-03-03 03:32 am (UTC)(link)
Even with the worst of the damage healed and taken care of, Greg still feels pretty shaky and ill. It could be the blood loss, or the leftover adrenaline, or even the exhaustion. Whatever reason, that's not why he's in the medical tent.

A hand rests gently on Steven's back. "Are you doing okay? Don't think anyone will mind if you catch some Zs on a cot." He wants to carry his kid back to the trailer, or even the van, someplace that's personal and private and theirs. Once his son decides he's going to help people, though, there's not a lot Greg can say to convince him otherwise.

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empty_vessel: The Man With The Plan (Default)

[personal profile] empty_vessel 2017-03-03 05:31 am (UTC)(link)
The medical tent (though it probably isn't appropriate to call it a tent anymore, as more stragglers keep coming in and the grounds keep spreading,) is bustling. There's people filling in for the missing Supervisors, head counts, and a whole lot of running around. Jimmy's skirting the edges as a glorified gofer, but he's more than happy to do it.

Seeing the exhausted kid curl up in the corner, though, Jimmy takes a detour and drops off something for him to eat. It's not much, but there's a bottle of juice and a sandwich wrapped in cellophane for when Steven wakes up again.

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dontpokethat: goodbye forever (ive already forgotten what you said)

[personal profile] dontpokethat 2017-03-05 04:44 am (UTC)(link)
As it happens, Ginko is actually awake when Steven gets to him, even if he's still visibly tired. He frowns, his tail flopping weakly.

"You sure you shouldn't be taking a rest?"

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blueblaze: (038 cause we got the fire)

[personal profile] blueblaze 2017-03-06 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
It isn't long before Rin, astride an elephant-sized twin-tailed cat, makes his way to the medical tent. His feet are healed up from their... transformative ordeal, but he still doesn't know how to use them. Besides, Kuro needed medical attention, too. Rin's mask is long gone, and his clothes from the party are torn and bloody. Kuro doesn't look great either, but... that's mostly because he's disgustingly hungover. He slides off of Kuro and limps along awkwardly on his new feet, looking around.

"Uh... is there anyone here who can take out bullets?"

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puddingemote: (with me)

[personal profile] puddingemote 2017-03-06 05:31 am (UTC)(link)
Tamaki himself isn't injured, but he comes by the medical tent anyway. After hearing Steven was inside helping, he appears bearing a small tray of food. Sandwiches, to be more exact, and some soup - he's no Koel, but after taking turns cooking for his group back home, he can handle basic food preparation.

"Do you want something to eat, Stevicchi?"

it's all good

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cellphoneangel: (it's the eleventh hour)

Castiel | Open

[personal profile] cellphoneangel 2017-03-03 02:06 am (UTC)(link)
[Entrance/The Big Top]

Not all of the supervisors were missing once life returned to the Carnival. One of them is returning. Whatever the Ring Master had sent him out to find was wriggling in the dull grey backpack he carried over one shoulder. Of the chaos that has befallen the Carnival and all its people? No idea. The beating of wings announces his arrival at the front gate, curiosity showing at the lack of lights and customers. The bag is shifted to the other shoulder, his right arm turning just so to slide his angel blade down into his hand.

Once he passes through, he can feel the lines being drawn back down over his skin beneath his shapeless suit and tan trench. Were he bare, one would see the outline of wings drawn with all sorts of fae embellishments down his back towards his ankles. On the outside, he changes little. Still an unremarkable seeming man that most wouldn't give a second look to. Few would think him handsome with his general lack of emotion and somber manner. Except from the shadow that he casts with the entrance lights behind him. Wings span from the shadow's back, held outwards as if readying to take flight or fight. Not his true wings, of course, but odd enough to some. Little wonder the angel keeps to shadowed places more than full out light.

Castiel pauses just inside the front entrance, breathing in and tasting the air. Blood is the first scent to hit, not something he was expecting to encounter. Keeping his blade pressed against his side, he starts first with the Big Top to look for others. He doesn't doubt for a second that She doesn't know he's around. Evil would know the same, feeling his presence as much as he does theirs.


[General Around the Carnival]

A momentary flapping of wings marks Castiel's arrival into various tents and structures around the Carnival. Doors are for normal people. Knowing him, if the angel suddenly lost his ability to teleport, he'd run into a door or two before remembering to use the damn thing.

"Hello?"

It doesn't occur to him that most of the Carnival's people won't recognize him except maybe as Jimmy. For the time he's been with the Carnival, most of Castiel's time has been spent out searching the world for rare items that he was sent out for. He's rarely spoken with anyone other than the Ring Master. Good thing angels are nosy and self-absorbed enough to not worry about what they might be interrupting or who they might startle. At least he put his blade away.

"Anyone about?"

Scent tells him everything he needs to know about the presence of others, but humans are odd about things like demanding a vocal call-out. He's trying, okay? Said 'trying' hasn't stopped him from swinging by the cookhouse and liberating a bag of popcorn that he's munching on as he looks for wounded needed healing or just whatever might interest his feathery ass. All heroes show up eating a bag of kettle popcorn. Really.
fortuneglass: credit - haptisms @ lj (OnO)

SCOUTING TENT TIME

[personal profile] fortuneglass 2017-03-03 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
[Being a scout with a fair amount of intel on just What the Fuck Happened, Carly is in the Nightrunner's block rather than the Tailor's. Mostly she's trying to get a sense on everything and put things properly in order-they managed to get Lauren back, turned as he was, but it seemed that on top of a number of others that she doesn't even know, most of the Supervisors are MIA and-]

HHHREHEHEEHHHHAAAAAAA-!! [And now there are papers everywhere.

Carly smells like Demon. As far as her world would be concerned she even looked it; the whites of her eyes as black as her feathers and velvety skin, numerous glowing marks all over the body where her ball dress doesn't cover. She didn't bother changing.

The really wasn't time for that sort of thing. As it is, while her shadow seems to outright draw back from Cas' presence, Carly has no real sense of angels vs demons and all that jazz. Aslla Piscu might recognize the energy of something 'Bad' for him, but Carly doesn't care.

Carly just cares that her poor undead heart just about gave out.
] S-SOME WARNING WOULD BE GOOD, THANK YOU..! This is a really BAD time for-

H-Hey! [she continues, clutching her reports.] Who are you anyway?!

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THE RINGMASTER IS HERE

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kitchen!

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EXACTLY muhahaha

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empty_vessel: The Man With The Plan (Default)

Jimmy Novak - OTA - Spare hands.

[personal profile] empty_vessel 2017-03-03 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
Jimmy was super lucky, and he knows it. He'd only been attacked once by a vampire, and then promptly dumped for tasting terrible. ('Tasting like guilt and God' stung more than he cares to admit.) But he can help get supplies to the medical tent. Which no, isn't much. But party party party can leave you wiped out and worn down.

So he starts with food. Water and sandwiches to those that aren't hurt, although he does give himself a tiny bit of credit for avoiding the orange juice and cookies usually given to blood donors. A pair of unskilled hands to help those willing to explain what needs to be done. Apart from picking up the smoking habit again, Jimmy got off scot free. So he helps where he can to pick up the slack since we're down so many.
cellphoneangel: (archangels smote the crap out of him)

[personal profile] cellphoneangel 2017-03-03 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
'Superlucky' might be very wrong with the Carnival's sole Supervisor returning. Especially when he appears with a flapping of wings across the empty kitchen from Jimmy.

"This isn't a funny joke."

Castiel's voice hasn't changed, emotionless and rougher than Jimmy's pleasant one. While he's changed the suit and trench after the others were destroyed by his deaths and everyday tear that came with the Winchesters, the angel has kept to Jimmy's style of dressing. An angel that looks like an accountant gets laughed at sometimes, Jimmy. Thanks a lot.

His first thought is that this is a demon masquerading as his vessel or some fae having a laugh. Either is unacceptable. That the Jimmy Novak may be standing before him isn't even considered. Angels aren't all that imaginative.

"Whatever game you're playing isn't one worth continuing."

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thevictoriandetective: (Norbury.)

Sherlock | Open

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-03-03 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
[Medical Tent]

Sheer anger is what's keeping him from completely passing out for a week. Well, he'd passed out several times between the dining hall evac and the medical tent, he can't quite remember if someone brought him here or he crawled here on his own. But he was aghast they had just...left. The others--Gon, Sora, that one kid that got blitzed, Snake--he'd failed to save them. He was angry at the situation, but mostly at himself. If he hadn't lost his blasted mind the entire week and gone on a massive bender, maybe he would have been able to. His mind at 100% could have figured out something...he ignored the fact that the poisons in his blood was what had probably saved his life. Though apparently it made him an attractive treat, because he probably got more vampire bites than any other poor person.

He sighed and lay back, wincing at any movement that jostled his ribs. His forked tongue flicked out, which was gross because he could practically taste the regret and pain in the air. Irvine had done a number on his mind, too. He'd supresssd his beastial instincts ever since he'd been turned into a chameleon by the Ringmaster, he never wanted to be swept away by such powerful, simple animal thoughts. And Irvine just broke that container open. Sherlock hadn't realized the depth of how strong were, festering and growing, hidden in his Mind Palace. Right now all he wanted to do was find a nice warm hole in a tree to curl up in. And maybe eat a whole pig. He shivered, grabbing an extra blanket from the cot next to him and huddled up underneath.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he berated himself. He'd been enthralled, bitten, while still on various substances, it was a wonder he didn't just...lose his mind entirely. The snake part of him was far more stable than the confused, beleaguered, furious, aching, dizzy human part.

His hand knocked against his face as he grabbed a pillow and considered sleeping for a month and avoid the inevitable withdrawal. Even if he'd been able to bring anything back wth him, he would have flushed it. He hated himself for falling so far.

Wait a second. His blue eyes shot open as he felt his face. What...--

A frantic grab for anything reflective. A medical tray would do. And--

--oh, that was just brilliant! He groaned and lay back, rubbing his...er...snout? Much like the snake mask he'd been wearing, his entire face had turned decidedly more snake-like. He gathered up the courage to inspect his reflection, his jaw was...could be unhinged? Like a snake. Of course. The lower half of his face was more like a snake's, not as pointed, but a similar shape. He growled, and threw the tray on the ground, where it clattered.

He didn't look even remotely human anymore. Not that he'd deserved to, after what he'd just been through. He curled up again, shaking slightly from the withdrawal.
Edited 2017-03-03 03:52 (UTC)
starseedling: (but everyone is so stupid)

[personal profile] starseedling 2017-03-03 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
At some point after Sherlock arrives in the tent, Steven will be over to see what he can help with. The boy has a decent amount of blood on him, but none of it is actually his - just left overs from hugging grievously wounded people earlier.

He's very tired and it shows, but he tries to look Sherlock over a little anyway.

"Are you hurt?" he asks softly. "I can help heal you..."

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Re: Sherlock | Open

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dontpokethat: into giving all my blood away on a fake game show (i was tricked)

Ginko | OTA

[personal profile] dontpokethat 2017-03-03 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Ginko probably couldn't say if asked how he got to the medical tent. He'd guess that someone carried him, or at the very least would have had to support him, to get him over here to begin with.

It probably wouldn't be tough for an onlooker to guess what happened to him. Even besides the bite on his neck, his skin is a little paler, a little more on the grey-blue end of green than usual. Now that the urgency that had led him to try and get around before is gone, his lethargy seems to have gotten the best of him.

Sometimes he's totally unconscious, if restless in his sleep, sometimes he's... awake, technically, but still tired and sort of out of it. Losing a significant amount of blood to a vampire attack and then continuing to try to move around and help other people afterward will do that.

He's glad to chat with anyone who wants to - he may not be at his most attentive, but he can try to keep up a conversation - and talking makes a nice distraction from. You know, thinking. About what happened, and what he saw, and the fact that he couldn't do anything about any of it...

It doesn't help much with the nightmares, but, you know. What can you do.
Edited 2017-03-04 00:11 (UTC)
spaghettimonster: arrt-jim-lad (HMMM.)

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2017-03-05 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
"Hey, you look hurt! Did you fight any of the vampires?"

Good news, Ginko; being hospitalized means being an excellent captive audience to a stressed skeleton who's wandering through the medical tent. Or maybe being a source of information.

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stillwinningthehardway: (🔪Nothing can bind)

Scout | OTA

[personal profile] stillwinningthehardway 2017-03-04 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
A young woman arrives with a complete lack of ceremony. She's been here before, and when she left she said she might return when she was in her twenties as a full Knight. Seems like that fell through. Scout's about seventeen and not even dressed in her Jedi robes. The small horns on her forehead point forwards and frame the nub of a lure that's usually kept curled, and a ridiculously long silky-haired tail curves up behind her.

It's strange to see the Carnival this empty, but she's been briefed, she knows why. Scout takes a long and winding walk through any areas not closed off to her, taking stock of what's changed, what hasn't, if there are any familiar faces. She'll smile if anyone meets her eye, and if engaged in conversation launches right into a comment.

"This place was getting attacked by sangui vampires when I left, too. I really hope this isn't all you guys've been up to."
starseedling: (i'm not dumb i just like nice things)

[personal profile] starseedling 2017-03-05 12:53 am (UTC)(link)
Steven is sitting on a cot in the medical tent, still wearing a white dress with a distressing amount of blood on it. No worries. None of it is his.

His mossy lion ears fold back as he yawns, slowly shaking his head.

"No, this is new. Last time it was computer guys in suits."

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spaghettimonster: (GRIEF)

Papyrus | ota

[personal profile] spaghettimonster 2017-03-05 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
► MISSING YOUR BROTHER

It just figures that Papyrus' feet have changed to be longer and cat-like... when Sans isn't there to laugh with him about it. Just like it figured that Papyrus gained all the prestige and popularity he wanted... when Undyne wasn't there to appreciate it with him.

If he wasn't the sort to work hard at always looking on the bright side of things, then he'd think some kind of terrible misfortune was following him.

After that week of delirious distraction interspersed with arguments with people who didn't get swept away, and the sight of a vampire hauling a chained Sans away faster than even Papyrus could run...

Well, it sounds like a good time to clean the entire park single-handed. Even if the cinder spirits have handled things just fine in their absence, with the utter lack of guests or workers messing the place up. Excessive cleaning gives him something to do.

At the sight of one of the bone dogs, though, all work is on hold so he can go pet the dog and see if, just maybe, his brother had come back after all?


► PLANNING FOR DANGER

There's no question that Papyrus is going on the rescue mission. None at all.

The question is, what does everybody know about vampires? What could he do to better keep them from hurting people?

Any remaining senior members, or people who got hurt in the fighting, expect a skeleton to come to you with questions.
osteothropy: ([gb] the dog house)

[personal profile] osteothropy 2017-03-05 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Sans had communicated that he would be away for a while, so that the dogs wouldn't freak out too much. Dogs have never been very good at understanding that concept, though. The three of them had gotten pretty wound over over the last week, even with no evidence of trouble - being connected to Sans by the fragments of soul that kept them going, they could feel that he was anxious, but unharmed.

That changed a few hours ago. Since then, all they've been doing is tearing up the treeline of that carnival, howling and baying for attention, as they searched to find out here their master had gone. When people start returning it only becomes more frantic. Others are here, but Sans isn't here.

As soon as they smell Papyrus, they recognize the similarity. Roman bounds in his direction while the other two follow a little more cautiously - watching as their sibling starts jumping at Papyrus's feet, whining pitifully.
Edited 2017-03-05 02:23 (UTC)

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Closed

[personal profile] mylastchance 2017-03-05 05:14 am (UTC)(link)
The waking is rough. He opens his eyes and he doesn't know where he is immediately. His body aches, his head is sort, his mouth is dry, everything about the experience can be described as awful. He doesn't remember anything at first, and he looks around in confusion. He recognizes where he is though, it's the medical tent, and he remembers where he was before. That's when it all comes flooding back to him, the party, the woman, Susan. Susan, suddenly he panics, sitting up, and that's when he notices them. His brother and someone else, Annabelle he thinks her name was, standing nearby. He looks from one of them to the other, and like that his energy leaves him. He slumps in on himself, and stares at his hands.

What was he going to do now?

[personal profile] wild_magic 2017-03-05 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
After the mess of the party, it was all Susan could do to help get Lauren to the medical tent. He was still upset, but now that things were safe (safer? Maybe it wasn't safe at all, there was that attack before...), he was a bit more relaxed as he sat and waited. He was still mostly caught in his thoughts, though, or at least talking to Fluff, unless Annabelle tried to talk to him - in which case he would talk with her for a bit, only to fall back to quietly waiting (impatiently, too) for Lauren to wake.

He doesn't immediately notice Lauren's eyes opening, but his brother sitting up definitely grabs his attention, and he instantly perks up, a small but hopeful smile on his face as he watches him.

"You're awake!"

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atouts: (046; queen of pentacles)

childermass, ota

[personal profile] atouts 2017-03-05 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
medical tent

It isn't until the middle of the night that Childermass will be found lurking through the medical tent on his own business. As far as injury went, he'd gotten off without anything life threatening, but after being flung back-first into a wall the way he'd been? He could only go so many hours ignoring the pain and stiffness that comes along with that much bruising. On top of that, ignoring the biggest hangover of his life doesn't do much for him.

But considering the poor mood he's in, he would rather skip dealing with anyone awake in the tent and quietly rifle through the various bottles and other containers of medicine himself, hence stealing away into the place when everyone should reasonably be out like lights. A lot of it isn't familiar — thanks a lot, faerie — but if he can just find one thing, anything, he can recognize as a painkiller.

So far, no luck.

the big top

And the day after, rather than spending it resting like he really should be, he had found himself pacing around his trailer until he could not take it anymore and simply left for somewhere else. That somewhere else is the big top, the massive tent sitting center stage to the entire carnival. It's empty and dark now, the stage manager and several of the other performers missing in action, but Childermass has long since figured out how to, at the very least, switch on a few of the backstage lights.

He's set out one of the folding chairs kept back there and has propped his boots up on a box of props, silently pulling nine cards a time from his tarot deck and laying them carefully on his lap as he lounges there. Whatever he sees in the cards, he must not like, since he only shakes his head and reshuffles. Then again, then again.

"...not very helpful today, are you?" He sighs at the cards, though he's not sure what else he expected.

They can't exactly tell him where everyone's gone and he does know that. Doesn't stop him from trying, but still.
cellphoneangel: (huggy bear just don't lose him)

The Big Top

[personal profile] cellphoneangel 2017-03-05 10:47 am (UTC)(link)
"How were they supposed to help you?"

The voice speaks up from in front of Childermass where no one was a few minutes ago. There may have been a short soft noise of flapping wings before he spoke. The man himself is unremarkable in all ways. He's not that handsome, not that ugly. The clothes he wears would go well with an accountant or some other career that went well with cheap off the rack suits.

Castiel's eyes are on the cards more than the man himself, studying their layout nonplussed. Witches use such cards, and that is enough for Castiel to be wary but curiosity can be the downfall of many things. Even angels with not much to do.

"Are you a witch?" Okay, so he's not so subtle either.

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waitingforplayer2: (72. EX: last try)

Chiaki Nanami | OTA

[personal profile] waitingforplayer2 2017-03-05 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
Day 66

For most of the first day back, Chiaki's cooped up in trailer #26, curled on the bed and shivering. She's too exhausted to do anything and too shellshocked to really sleep. Every so often she reaches for a different one of the prizes they've run and hugs it, dozes for about half an hour before waking up crying.

After twilight, hunger gets the best of her and she stumbles blearily from the trailer, hopping slowly over to the dining hall to find any leftovers that she can.

Day 67

Chiaki hops around as quietly as she can the next morning, trying to find out who's still around and who isn't. She spends a particularly large amount of time hopping through the trailer park.

As a last-ditch effort, she stops by the Ringmaster's to see if she's around. If anybody knows what to do with this sort of thing, surely it's the boss.
Edited 2017-03-05 05:58 (UTC)
otokogi: (be a king when kingdom comes)

66!

[personal profile] otokogi 2017-03-06 01:10 am (UTC)(link)
Mitsuki is sorely unprepared for the hangover that hits him upon waking up at home, but he's even less prepared for the idea that the things he saw before they were forcibly removed from the world they were on were real. After a while tossing, turning, and making sure Tamaki's in the trailer, he lurches to the fridge for a bottle of water, downs it before moving a little more readily to the shower, then it's out the door.

He's glad one of the most important trailers in the park is nearby; he'll deal with Joker being missing in due time, but for now he's going to check on someone he does know is here.

His knock is soft, though. He knows how he'd feel about having his door pounded on when his head is already doing enough pounding for itself.

"Chiaki?"

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whattaprick: (these wooounds they will not heeeal)

Lambert, and open!

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-03-05 07:03 am (UTC)(link)
medical tent

The doctor's gone, but the tent's not unoccupied, if the lit lights and the soft bubble of liquids in beakers is anything to go by. Cots for the injured are left mostly as they are -- and basic medical supplies like needles, disinfectant, and bandages have been set out on a table. At another table, a number of powders and papers are arranged carefully, waiting for use.

"Doctor's out. Help yourself," a scarred man will say, short and terse, to anyone as they step in. Lambert's not looking up from what he's working on -- crushing something in a mortar and pestle while keeping an eye on the color a mixture is turning in a beaker. If they were listening to the radios at all, they'll recognize the voice from the broadcast that went out shortly after they arrived, though he seems less angry and more focused now.

trailers

Lambert's conspicuously sitting on his trailer steps, sharpening the edge of his sword -- something that would have been damn useful in the last fight, and he's not making the mistake of leaving it behind again. Next time, he'll carry it in his pants if he has to. He's using just a bit more force than necessary, but the repetitive scrape of the metal seems like, in some odd way, like it's soothing him.
Edited 2017-03-05 22:57 (UTC)
thevictoriandetective: (Default)

[personal profile] thevictoriandetective 2017-03-05 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
A baritone voice rumbles.

"Have anything for a headache?"

Sherlock's confined to his cot at the tent for now, despite Steven's healing he's still too hurt to do much, and he's experiencing some nasty withdrawal symptoms. Between that and the concussion, he feels like an elephant parade is doing a rendition of Riverdance behind his eyes.

The snake-like detective managed to pick himself up and stumble over to where Lambert was, even though really, he should have just stayed in bed. By now he's changed out of his bloodied masquerade clothes and into a button-up shirt and housecoat, the latter hanging off one shoulder in a lazy, childlike way.

"And maybe something for nausea too."

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