lostcarnival | ⇨ 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

Word gets around in strange ways among the homeless -- typically orally and quickly, like most things in dank alleys and dumpsters. It bounces around like pinball before it finds its way home. Homeless changelings just add another level of bouncing, speed, and bribery. As it stands, Allen heard from the acquaintance of a friend of his neighbor's changeling cousin that there is a mage looking for faerie knowledge.

Knowledge for knowledge, right? Looking for connections and recruits for the United Order, when Allen spots the man walking downtown, he throws up a quick don't-look-here-charm and falls in step behind him. If anyone looks at him from the corner of their eye, they'll see him, but if they look right at him, it's like he's just not there . . . And in fact, more often than not, their eyes will slide right off him; they just don't want to look.

It's a-stalking time. He'll approach the man later, but Allen would much rather know the answers before he asks any questions.

And hey, if he can get some dirt he can use against the guy, that's all the better. (He's terrible.)

Jonathan Strange, as he'll tell anyone who'll listen, is a fourth rank mage in the Portland Circle of Enlightenment. In layman's terms, this means that he's good but not that good. It's about an hour of stalking for Allen: Strange goes from the bank, to thirty minutes of work on his laptop at a cafe (in-depth research on the magical equivalent of academic databases about the metaphysical significance of October), to a phone call with someone about accounting terms just outside of said cafe. It's after the phone call that Strange realizes that nagging feeling he's had in the back of his head isn't a feeling, but is actually a spell.

What it is, he has no idea. He can just place the magic, not identify the type. So, he covertly ducks into a nearby back alley, ostensibly for a cigarette. But instead, Strange lights a match and mutters a lengthy incantation in ancient Greek. The smoke from the match flits around the alleyway and then just lingers, right near Allen, remaining perfectly still despite the fact that there's a breeze.

"The Colfer Incantation of Identification: a spell to see if any magic is being performed nearby," he announces, to the alleyway as a whole. "Whoever or whatever has cast the spell, show yourself."

If there even here to begin with. Hopefully they are, Strange wouldn't want to have wasted an opportunity to look impressive and imposing.

Allen huffs a frustrated breath at the smoke, and though that doesn't effect the haze at all, Allen's charm does nothing about noise. Well, there's no point now. Without any ceremony, he breaks the spell, revealing a silver-haired Winter changeling. Not wanting to waste precious magic on a glamour, his lavender eyes and pointed ears make his bloodline clear. His oversized jacket mostly hides the hip-wings beneath.

"Do you do anything interesting with your time?" Allen says, in lieu of a greeting. "I've been bored for hours."

Of course, Allen had only been following the mage for an hour, but maybe he doesn't have to know that. He really has been suffering, watching this strange man do nothing. It's been horribly disappointing.

Ha he knew it. Strange can't help but look far too smug as Allen appears out of thin air. Blowing out the match, he tosses the used matchstick to the ground, not really caring that he's blatantly littering. And, as the changeling grumps and fusses about his hobbies, Strange simply shrugs.

"Academic research is interesting enough to the person doing the research. It's not my fault that it's dull to any nosy onlookers," said with a very pointed look at Allen. Though hmm. Hours? If what the changeling said was true, then he really needed to work on his spells more: Strange only connected the dots with regards to Allen about five or so minutes ago.

"Mind telling me just why you've decided to stalk me in the first place, changeling?"

Ugh. Allen can't help but scowl in return to the mage's smug attitude and pointed looks. This is exactly what he hates most in this world. Everything about this guy. It's enough to strengthen his resolve: it's everything that he's trying to change. Allen swallows the biting comeback just lurking in his throat.

"I heard you're looking for some information," he says, uncrossing his arms and dampening his scowl into a devil-may-care attitude. It's time to really Sell It. "I am, too. Maybe we could trade, like for like."

Edited 2017-06-24 22:41 (UTC)

Strange can't help it: his eyes light up at the prospect of information. It's no secret that he's a bit of a creep with regards to anything remotely fae. If the changeling had anything useful...well, Strange was perfectly fine letting certain pieces of information slip should it net him something useful in return.

"I suppose that all depends on what you want to know and what you can offer me in the first place." He's definitely interested, though.

⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

Did someone call for stalking? (let me know if I should edit!)

works for me!

Strange is so cool

he tries, at least. :P

the one time he succeeds

no subject