lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

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⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 1st - 7th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: Memories begin returning to the displaced as the fall gets chillier. How the hell did we end up here, again? Also, apparently, the fair is in town.
Warnings: Individually marked!

PORTLAND BY NIGHT↴

Memory regains will come into effect at the beginning of October, to whatever degree you've decided upon, and may be regained at whatever pace you desire from then on. For those with their full carnival memories, it will be like waking up in the body of someone else - for those with half and half, it will be like rapidly recalling sets of memories from a totally different life. Those with full amnesia will simply feel as if this is how it's always been.

Unfortunately for you, memories aren't the only thing you have to deal with. The supernatural community of Portland is bustling all of a sudden - could your presence and these events somehow be related?

► THE OUTER CIRCLE: As of the start of the month, the Portland Circle of Enlightenment will find itself starting to get swarmed with members from other chapters. Most notably, it would seem that a small cabal of top mages from the North American Enlightenment Council will be making their home in Portland's HQ. For anyone but the highest of ranks, the purpose behind their visit will be unclear, but it seems like something is definitely up on a metaphysical level. The Circle will be buzzing with rumours of unique planar activity and threatening omens. It seems that it all started with an unusual flare of activity in the planetary ley-lines, starting approximately a week ago. However, even if you would usually be the type to keep tabs on such things, you will find that you oddly have no memory of observing this phenomenon yourself.

► THE ANIMAL FAIR: Good news, the fair is in town! Or, at least, it would be good news... if this was a regular fair. Instead, what's being observed is a bunch of nearly identical flyers, spread all around Portland - each of which bears only the words "THE ANIMAL FAIR", a seemingly bloody paw-print of unknown origin, and the directions to a vague forested location outside of the city. It's dated for October 7th, and all instances of its posting having been discovered with a scattering of rose petals, crow feathers, and pre-burnt matches laying on the ground around them. Most are taking this to be some kind of bizarre viral marketing campaign, but others may know better.

► THE EARTH SPIRIT: If you have connections to The Pack or any of its many variations, you'll probably hear whispers of something very odd that occurred last week - according to the elders, it sounds as if the Earth Spirit, the magical and spiritual center of the planet, has suddenly taken a wound. It's not clear why or how, but there is a fair bit of concern among spiritual types, as it is werebeast belief and nebulous magical fact that the magical forces within the earth are the source of all magic here, as well as the source of life. While many werebeasts claim to have felt the Spirit succumb, you strangely have no memory of such an event occurring. Though things do feel strange, if you know how to tap into the Spirit yourself.

► THE WAR CRY: Though Anath's rain of terror across North America lasted for the first fifteen years or so of the Severing, most independent demons have had enough time to start taking the arch-demon's relative inactivity for granted. For that first while, the warrior queen had seemed determine to rebuild an army on earth by forcing her scattered brethren into service - only for her to gradually settle down in a fortress somewhere in Texas and dig in her heels. Of course, this was too good to last - it sounds as if she and her demonic legion have begun tearing their way up the west coast, their goals remaining a mystery. Their destination, however, is almost certainly Portland.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

On the night of the 4th, the night will proceed as normal. Come closing time, the customers will leave, and Lambert will be alone to get the cats and till put away. Normally the process would take about a half hour, but this time, due to some various circumstances, it takes a bit longer. The lights in the front area are off, and Lambert will be in the back dealing with whatever cat problems have arisen.

It's then, past the time that he normally would have left, that... something will arrive into the cafe with him. Glass will shatter as a dark figure enters through a plane glass window - only for the glass to hang in the air and reform itself just as quickly after their arrival.

At first, the shadow will simply pause to take in their surroundings, fiery eyes flickering in the evening darkness.

Edited 2017-06-05 03:49 (UTC)

Lambert's significantly more respectful of the cats after he'd gotten turned into one of them for a day after losing his temper and yelling at the owner -- a terrible idea, 0/10, would not recommend -- though they clearly communicate their disapproval of him. Probably because he was also an asshole as a cat, though he can't remember exactly how he might have offended them, and they gossip in cat-language to the new arrivals who also hate on him because it's the popular thing to do. It doesn't save him from the scratches and claws getting dug in, but whatever, it's not his fault he's stuck here.

He wonders if they can sense anything weird going on, but it's not like he can speak cat to ask them, can he? With the last of them put away, and no trouble in sight, it's time to--

--grab the pair of scissors in his apron pocket when he hears the sound of shattering glass from the main room, apparently. He freezes where he is, heart hammering, straining to listen for footsteps or any indication of what the fuck is going on outside the back room.

That's not actually hard, because the few handful of cats in the back room with him have heard the glass shattering and should by all rights be freaking out? They're all silent in their cages, and that's worse.

There's a significantly short span of time between Childermass taking note of the shadowy figure and the glass shattering, said figure going in. In theory, he meant to act as a warning for Lambert if anything strange approached, but it's late, he's been busy. A crow dozing off at his perch from the outside is bound to happen sooner or later.

That doesn't mean he doesn't react the second he spots them, shaking off sleepiness and immediately launching his feathery form after. Wings open to let him glide the rest of the way, aiming to follow the figure straight in through the exact same window they had just broken.

See, what he wasn't expecting was the glass to reform.

So, instead of triumphantly arriving as back-up for the magically mundane cafe barista, he'll just be... running into glass and, while he is big for a crow, his weight is still nothing against a pane of glass. The worst that'll happen is a crack and then a soft thump of feathers hitting the ground outside.

Good job, crow man, good job...

The being pauses to look when they hear the thumb, but honestly aren't even sure what happened there. Their first assumption isn't that 'a changeling flew into the glass,' of course, so it strikes them as irrelevant.

As it is, they take their time strolling around the interior of the cafe, running their fingers along various surfaces, before finally arriving at the counter. Here, their fingers become sharp, and they begin etching a long set of claw marks across it, with trivial effort. Even as they do this, the specifics of their body is oddly difficult to pick out, though their form seems vaguely feminine and they may be sporting a set of horns.

Then, they move towards the back room. Is that a light on in there?

There is definitely a light. It's one of those LED ones that supposedly save the environment but sure as shit suck at actually, say, illuminating anything.

In the meantime, Lambert's not taking what little information he ca get well. There's the thump -- a body? -- hitting something, but then the scrape of something tearing up wood. The cats are still quiet. He takes all of a second to briefly contemplate whether he can successfully bolt through the innocuous looking catdoor in the backroom, which he damn well knows doesn't lead to anywhere in the building.

But that doesn't feel right. Actually, nothing about this situation feels right, but the idea of standing here, waiting for whatever the fuck's coming in? That feels worse, so he inhales, pushes his glasses up his nose, and takes the two steps he needs to stand in the doorway, facing out with his hand still gripping his scissors in his pocket.

"Sorry, cafe's closed." Holy shit, was that the best he could come up with? Really?

Meanwhile, outside, the crow's still on the ground. He'll shake the shock of hitting the window pane soon enough, but not just yet.

And the creature is standing there, their orange eyes widening just slightly at a human unveiling themselves so abruptly. They hadn't actually entered with the intent of encountering a human. How odd.

The cafe is closed, is it? Hm.

They take a few long moments to idly contemplate Lambert in his entirety, though their eyes linger on his pocket area. Otherwise they are quite still, except for a flick of something shadowy behind them - a tail?

"Can you make an exception?" they purr, and apparently the feminine impression was correct. For now, they stay where they are.

An letter opener under his shirt and a pair of scissors in a pocket feel like an incredibly flimsy defense, so he hopes whatever this is isn't something a sweep kick can't handle.

For now, though-- he tries not to stare at that tail too obviously.

"Sorry, can't do that," he grimaces. It's probably supposed to to be a smile. His best, most pained customer service smile. "Also, no offense, but how the fuck did you even get in here?"

He tried holding it in, all right.

Good lord, he's going to pretend that window thing never happened, but now that he's had a minute to recover, he's hopping back to his feet. Remaining in crow form, Childermass will opt for Plan B of getting into the cafe, which means dropping into a shadow form flat across the sidewalk and darting around towards the front door. A shadow can slip in through the cracks as easily as a chill and so he does.

Keeping back by the door, he springs back up again, slowly and silently rising up out of the shadows, switching from crow to man as he does. Squinting in the dark, he can make out the back of the unknown figure and... Lambert.

Lambert, why would you even come out here with this thing? That's what he would like to ask, but he sure as hell isn't about to give his entrance away.

They... smile? Or something like it, anyway. Though it does seem genuinely amused, there is part of it that is clearly more of a threatening bearing of fangs.

They take a step forward.

"Open the cages," they say.

There is the strong feeling in the air that this being could and would just tear him apart given the motivation. Right now, they are just a lion basking in the sun, but that could change at any moment.

Lambert stands his ground, primarily because the doorway is a good place to be and he doesn't feel at all inclined to obey. True, there's no love lost between him and the little shits, but if they wanted to be out with this thing, they'd damn well be letting him know. The silence says enough.

(If him being here tonight is supposed to be about him saving the cats, he fucking hopes they're intelligent enough to be grateful for it.)

"No cats outside after closing," he grates out instead. "Boss makes the rules, not me." He doesn't notice Childermass behind it, mostly because he's busy watching it for any sign of trouble.

On one hand, he could keep on hanging back and see what happens, but on the other? Lambert is human. This thing isn't. Childermass would honestly tell him to just give them the damn cats (he's kind of a bird, so yeah, biased, shut up) and run. That's what he wants to do, too, get as far away from here as possible.

Confrontation wasn't part of any of his plans, but—

"You heard the man."

He says that in the same breath that he throws out his own magic again, reaching towards this creature, across the shadows to try and latch onto theirs and freeze it — and them — in place.

"Wouldn't want to break any rules, now would you?"

Childermass's arrival gets their attention for reasons beyond the fact that he's trying to dominate their shadow. Then turn away from Lambert, something like amused delight in their eyes.

Their shadow whips away from Childermass's reach, disappearing entirely.

"Oh! You're one of theirs. How nice."

And then they'll quickly stride straight in Childermass's direction, obviously going for contact of some kind. It's really just a matter of whether he stays in place long enough to find out.

Lambert has no idea how John got here or what the heck he was trying to do with his magic, but it's hard to miss him speaking up like that. As the monster turns away, he's instinctively going into motion too, taking his hand out of his pocket and spinning the scissors into a reverse grip, like it's a combat knife instead of a crafting tool.

But he is only human, after all, so in the time it takes him to take one step and drop into a combat stance, it's probably already managed to close the distance.

Sure, this is fine, this is just fine, this is exactly how he was hoping to repay his debt to Lambert, dealing directly with a real actual faerie who's visiting a cat cafe for some reason— yeah, no, that would all be a lie. He was hoping more along the lines of 'it was just some human moron breaking in', something unrelated to the posters, but no, it's this.

Eyes widen when they step towards him, his grab for the shadow missing by a long shot. Panic grips him for a second — he doesn't want them near him — and his instinct is to get away. He grabs for his previous spell from before, to drop back into being a shadow before they close the distance, to try and quickly dart the long way around them to the other side of the cafe.

The being watches him melt away into shadow and zip away from approach, and in response, simple slows to a stop and begins to laugh as if that was one of the most hilarious things they'd ever seen. They barely pay attention to what Lambert is doing, because this is just too priceless.

"Run away, little crow," they say, jeering. "Tell your master that I'm coming! I believe he's already expecting me."

They leap into the air, landing on one of the cafe tables in Childermass's general direction. Slowly, they take a moment to straighten up afterward.

"Or... you could consider taking up new employment."

Oh my god, he just cleaned that table, don't step on it. Lambert stays where he is, but he won't drop his stance despite the way he incredulously raises his brows. The smart thing to do would be to stay quiet and let this play out, but that's not really his style, and the mocking laughter grates for all it isn't directed at him.

In the time he's known him, John's never actually mentioned a master. He's also never actually seen him look freaked out like that, even if it was just for a split second.

While the changeling slips into a shadow again, and the thing's come over to his side of the room, Lambert is going to do what seems like the most sensible thing at the time. Which is to snort and pipe up with a helpful:

"Or you can fuck right off." He sizes up the distance between him and the table, lips drawn into a taut line.

Edited 2017-06-05 12:49 (UTC)

Springing back up out of the shadow puts him behind the cafe bar, as though he feels having a barrier like that might do anything. It won't, he actually realizes, but it's nice to imagine otherwise. He won't take his eyes off of the faerie, but when he opens his mouth again, it's first to hiss at Lambert, "What are you doing, you idiot? Get out of here."

Lambert's human. Apparently, that isn't of any interest to this creature and that's a good thing. He should be taking advantage of that and running!

But to the figure on the table, he schools his tone to be slightly less snappish than when he was addressing the barista, if only out of fear.

"He's no master of mine," he makes that clear first thing (as he assumes she means the Count, not Strange), because it rankles him, deep down. The Rose Queen isn't much better, but at least he can live out here. "Why are you even here? This is a human cafe. There's nothing for you."

Edited 2017-06-05 13:53 (UTC)

The fae spares Lambert a glance for the first time in a while, but if they have strong reaction to the weapon he's wielding, they don't make it obvious. There's something impetuous about the reaction, as if they're daring him.

Then, it's back to Childermass.

"They took down all my posters," they say with a fake frown. "I was starting to get offended. Don't you want to come to my party?"

Lambert's not even going to deign to acknowledge that unsolicited advice, bristling with irritation instead when the being responds. Breaking and entering over a bunch of paper and junk? Who the fuck does that?

"Should've advertised it better. Didn't look like much of an invitation -- just a lot of trash."

Edited 2017-06-05 14:17 (UTC)

A faerie, Lambert. A faerie does that. He's beginning to regret not telling him a little more about the fae at this point, but who could have guessed a faerie would invade a cat cafe? Ever?

"Shut up," he tries, again, in absolute vain, to tell Lambert to stop running his damn mouth. He should know better, he's never shut up for anything before, not here, not in the medical tent— he frowns, briefly confused by the thought, but he doesn't dwell on it.

He just goes back to addressing the faerie.

"Please ignore him," he adds, as if it even needs to be said. They probably don't worry at all about Lambert. "They're rude creatures, I know, but they don't know any better. Though what about your party? Why throw it here?"

Also he is still supposed to investigate this thing, so...

Edited 2017-06-05 14:25 (UTC)

So very rude! At least they seem mostly amused for the moment. They stay on the table where they're been standing - apparently pausing to talk is not out of the question. They ignore Lambert's trash talking for the time being. Mostly, anyway.

"I'll have you know, I'm very popular," they say. "You should see all the creatures coming to my doorstep, prowling around... they just can't wait!" They wink at him, which probably feels pretty uncomfortable.

"I'm declaring my arrival! The Courts won't throw me a party, so I'll throw one for myself. You should join me, little crow. The Wyld Fae welcome your kind with open arms."

Lambert doesn't understand anything about this conversation right now, but you can bet he's memorizing it to search on the internet (or pester Childermass about it) later. Assuming the whole I've dealt with these things before wasn't a load of bullshit.

But while the other man is busy occupying it, he'll mercifully shut up and reach back to shut the backroom door behind him. That's one of his boss's rules too, emphasized enough that it's probably important, and there is a hum of magic in the air for a moment when the lock clicks into place. Though if a witch's protective charms are enough to keep an offended fae out of there in the first place, well, who knows.

His first assumption is that 'welcomes your kind' is just another way of saying they enslave them. Could be wrong, could be right. Who can blame a changeling for being wary? Well, besides actual faeries. They don't seem to understand it.

"I may take a look," he'll give her that much if only to keep everyone here on somewhat non-violent terms for now. "I admit I have never heard the Courts mention the Wyld Fae." Or anyone else outside the Courts at all. "Which seems to be a failing on their part, but back to this matter at hand... They didn't realize how important you are, that this was for your welcoming party. Perhaps you could show you're better than them, that you're merciful? Let the flyers go back up instead? They'll know better now than to take them down."

Faeries aren't merciful, but they also like to be better than everyone else. It's a gamble.

"Unfortunately, I may be unique in this place. The Courts have no place for me, nor I for them."

Is it sheer vanity that allows this to appease fae, or is it the fact that it's an inherent act of submission? It's not clear, but the Wyld Fae seems entertained enough to go along with it for the moment. They look to Lambert.

Childermass isn't the one who actually works here, after all. He may have no stake in it.

"What say you, human?" they ask. "Your tongue has been particularly sharp, and I have my doubts that this one's assurances match your own."

Edited 2017-06-05 15:49 (UTC)

CAT FIGHT (CLOSED TO LAMBERT AND CHILDERMASS)

and then lambert became the mc of amnesia the dark descent

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