⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

[ringleaders]

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.

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► INTO THE SHADE (AFTERNOON, OCTOBER 6TH)

[ringleaders]

A plan has been formed, and the only thing left to do is to act. With Greg's guidance, and Strange's summoning spell working as a distraction for the killer fae, Psi and Foster will be able to make their way into the hidden lair of Nightshade. It's a case of good fortune that Greg's connections allow him to know the way into the territories of the Rose Queen's court, and even more fortunate that he's willing to help them.

The cost for a warlock going so directly against their master's plans could be extreme.

Their journey through trees and bushes will take a gradual shift to the fantastical, as reality itself takes on a surreal tone. The afternoon sunlight becomes both more visceral and more diffuse, while creeping vines covered with flowers begin lining all the trees they pass until they are so thick they nearly obscure the spaces in between. The bright purples of the blossoms nearly seem to glimmer in the light trickling through the trees.

Greg will know that the only reason the vines aren't aggressive is because he knows the friendly path. The moment that Nightshade is alerted, however, things could go ugly. Those flowers are as poisonous as Nightshade's berries.

The only chance of true success will be getting out before she notices.

[fragileandsoft]

Naturally, Greg wants this to work out regardless of circumstances; this is his friend trapped in here, he'd do whatever it took so long as he could. And the others... well, he doesn't know much about them, honestly, but... they're going after their friends, their family. That means they're good guys, one way or another. It's worth it to do this for them.

There's just that little bit of extra pressure nagging at him to get everything perfect, or else. This whole situation is surreal, something he'd planned for all these years but never expected to come up like this... already, Greg can feel sweat on his brow. One wrong step, and it's all wasted.

"Not much further--we're in the thick of it now. Stay close and move fast." It's slightly redundant advice, since they could probably a lot faster if it weren't the human guiding the way. "Hold your breath if you need to. It doesn't take much."

[control_freak]

Foster is technically human at the moment, in Greg's defence. They'd gone over it, and a human-shaped Foster was deemed to be a bit less conspicuous and a lot less noisy than 900 pounds of bear.

Thing is, he'd normally have a really hard time feeling the same pressure everyone else was. He's been in situations before whether everyone was tense except him, where the stakes were felt by everyone in the room except for Foster van Denend, who was at best very aware of how much he wasn't feeling it, but otherwise only motivated to try because of external reasons.

This time, though.... he suddenly understands a lot more how people feel when things matter. It feels like he's going to be crushed by it--not from one direction, but all of them at once. Or burst apart from the inside. Or--

"If I could stop breathing, I would." He barely actually says it; it's more like mouthing it. Which is the only proof there's sincerity in it, and not just extreme sarcasm.

there's no way im spellchecking this a fifth time so fucking deal with it

[dorkypantsuit]

They were all risking a lot in coming here. Even Strange in serving as their distraction was putting himself in danger, though he doubted the wizard had thought about it before agreeing. The demon knew how strong fae could be and he knew just how badly they could make someone hurt. He wouldn't say they were worse than demons, but they could definitely be just as bad. They didn't have the discipline or long term planning of demon lords and their armies, but they were twice as capricious and three times as powerful as any unaffiliated demon following his own private agenda. It was that capricious nature that worried him. He didn't know what to expect from Nightshade if caught, and that alone had him feeling anxious and tense. They probably wouldn't just be killed, that he was certain of. In fact, in this situation being killed would likely be a best case scenario should they fail. Knowing that, no sensible person would wander willingly into fae territory without feeling a certain amount of healthy trepidation, and whatever Foster and he suffered he was sure Greg would suffer worse. That really made the demon afraid.

Simply by being a demon he knew there was less a fae could accomplish with his soul than could be done with that of a humans. Demons were souls reformed, and therefore much less malleable a humans. In the end this meant the demon wasn't as worried about himself as he probably should have been. In fact, though he feared for his own survival, it was Foster and Greg's fate he worried about more. He'd lived a long life and already gotten basically everything he wanted out of his time on earth. That wasn't to say he wouldn't happily spend more time doing whatever he wanted on earth than he had so far, but it did mean the loss of his own life felt smaller in comparison to the enslavement of the two humans beside him. In fact, should things go south, their survival would become his top priority. He hadn't expressed that intention to the others of course, but he kept it in mind regardless and no matter what intended on making sure both of them survived.

He'd already met Nightshade once before and there had been very little he could do then to stop her from taking his friend. The only reason he'd even been able to get Ginko away was because she hadn't cared enough to pursue them. If everything went according to plan they wouldn't have to face her at all, but the likelihood of things going according to plan when they had so little information felt very small. He'd come as prepared as he could. He had an iron knife in his pocket, iron bullets for a small handgun he was carrying, and even wore a bracelet made purely of iron because why the hell not. The more iron the better, and following that logic he had even swallowed an amount of iron about the size of an avocado pit, because worst case scenario he could summon the iron from his own stomach and shove it through a faeries skull. They couldn't disarm you of something that was currently making its way through your digestive tract, after all. Well they could, but you'd probably die from having your stomach pierced punched throw at that point, so no big deal either way. He has pretty low expectations of surviving this in the first place.

That being said, he'd never felt more focused or aware of his surrounding than he did right now. The surreal tones of the world around them only added to the feeling. Things felt simultaneously more and less real than normal, everything around them so sharply defined it was almost impossible to believe they actually existed as he saw them right now. There was a certain amount of detachment he felt as well, as though his mind was preparing for the moment things went wrong and he'd have to do something drastic to ensure their survival. Overall, he was acting nothing like his usual self as he made his way silently down the path towards Nightshade's demesnes.

[npcarnival]

Eventually, the flickering beams of light coming through the canopy become more common, as they make their way into a sort of clearing. There's a lot of places that captives could be potentially held, and it's not like Greg knows the specific layout of this place - there are a lot of ways this could have been made difficult, by having then in some distance and secluded area, or by the place being loaded with traps.

Maybe it's that Nightshade is just a bit too confident, however, because simply walking towards what feels like the center of the realm will be enough to accomplish it. They make their way into the clearing, like a open cave made of wood and leaves, except for lines of cracks where sunlight leaks in. The flowers and bigger and more fragrant here than they had been earlier in the journey.

Ahead of them, there are two circles of glowing mushrooms, with a figure bound inside each one - one is clearly Amethyst, and the other is clearly Sans. They've both been pinned to the ground by an overgrowth of nightshade vines, blossoming with purple flowers.

The presence of magical warding is clear, but the details of how its triggered are unclear. Likely its something to do with the mushroom circles, Greg will know. They are a sort of fae spell circle that could be used to hold magical energies inside of them.

[drrdrrdrr]

"... just doesn't make any fucking sense," Amethyst is saying for about the fifteenth time, but she breaks off when she senses something moving at the edge of the clearing. She straightens up, bristling, and glares.

"Hey!!!" she yells. "Hey, stop sneakin' around and trying to be creepy, no one's impressed!!"

[osteothropy]

Despite Amethyst apparently having been talking, Sans seems mostly unresponsive. He's slumped down inside of his vine bindings, his wings crumpled at his sides as they are clamped down by the same magical flowers. Most of his eyes are empty of pupils, and, for the moment, he doesn't seem to see any reason to look up or react.

[dorkypantsuit]

No offense Amethyst, but you being here is pretty incidental for this guy. Still, her shouting gets his attention, and once he sees her, it's pretty much impossible to miss Sans. Still, coming upon the both of them just totally out in the open with no one around to look after them feels way to convenient to be a good thing. He can't help but worry it's somehow a trap and so he stops short at the sight of them.

"Any idea how to break them free?" he says, doing his best to keep his voice down. He's speaking mostly to Greg, but if Foster has any ideas he's more than happy to hear them. He reaches, for the pocket knife he's brought intending on simply cutting them loose should there be no better options.

[osteothropy]

It's only at the sound of the demon's voice that causes Sans to stir and look up, a few of his eye sockets flickering with light as his inclined head levels a wary look at his 'friend.' Up until now he's been more or less assuming that he intended to do whatever this was - he couldn't think of any other reason it would have happened. The feeling of betrayal has had hours to stew at this point, and with the other things plaguing him since he woke up, it's hard to force down his swelling feelings of paranoia and dread.

He doesn't say anything, though, because he's measuring their reactions. Sans is hard to read at the best of times, but there is a wild look of hurt and fear in his eyes that is hard to miss, if you know him at all.

[fragileandsoft]

The sight of Sans brings visible relief in Greg. The idea of an angel getting captured and held is freaky enough on its own to make him unsure about what they'd find in here. Whatever else Nighyshade is up to, at least his friend is alive. And the other captive--

He does a double take. Amethyst? Sure, he'd heard her name, but he hadn't expected--why does she look like that, why would she be-- how does he know her again...?

The demon's voice pulls Greg out of his confusion. Right--right, he can't afford to be distracted right now. He puffs out a breath, and rummages through his jacket for supplies.

"I've got a few options, hang on." While he extends out his senses through the earth, trying to get a feel for any extra traps in the circles, Greg pulls out his supplies. A spray bottle of enhanced weed killer, a few runes, his own bag of iron pellets, and a heck of a lot of salt. He doesn't want to use much of his own magic around here, but he can still bring in what others have prepared.

[control_freak]

Incidental to one of them, maybe, but it evens out: Foster doesn't actually give one entire fuck about Sans, except that the lack of response from the angel makes him concerned about Amethyst. It's nothing personal.

He's torn between the fact that she's obviously feeling relatively okay--and the fact that she just broadcasted their presence to anyone around. He glances at his demon, briefly--partially to gauge a reaction because of Sans, partially because, honestly, there's no answer to that question that isn't stupid. He's already getting up--there's no point in trying to be sneaky now. Speed is better than stealth at this point.

"The jig's up already."

He looks at Greg's options--they actually don't suck, which is kind of a relief, to be honest. Because he didn't really have that many tricks in his toolbox.

It was probably impossible for a demon to understand, but when he chose to become a warlock, that was the appeal of a pact to begin with.

"And I'm a fucking bear."

When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

[drrdrrdrr]

Amethyst's opened her mouth to yell some more, but stops short when she sees who it actually is. Her eyes widen... and then narrow, a sort of indignant, injured squint. She is, so glad to see her brother (and also, this one other guy, who seems unaccountably familiar–?), but she feels like an idiot for the fact that her first thought wasn't that this is some kind of magic fairy illusion bullshit.

"What kinda dumb trick is this?" she hisses.

[dorkypantsuit]

The look Sans gives him is painful, and though he's stupid dumb when it comes to feelings, he's pretty sure the reason is guilt. He tries to ignore it, getting distracted now would probably be the worst thing he could do. Instead he takes his knife out of his pocket and flips it open. He gives bear Foster a look, trusting him to stay chill until shit gets real before turning back to the hostages.

"Stay alert." His eyes flick to Greg and his supplies, but he's not moving so the demon takes a step closer instead. "Any chance I can just cut them free?"

team distraction, strange & nightshade

[kingsroads]

There's one person who is doing this entirely not for altruistic reasons and that is Jonathan Strange. The chance to summon a fae, hit it up for information, learn all about it and what it could do? How could he turn down that chance! Yeah, whatever, saving Amethyst and that angel from the fae would be useful, but the fact that he's getting something out of this makes it even better!

He's taking as many precautions as he can. The actual summoning is done in a hotel room (because he's not letting the fae know where he actually lives) that's been warded out the ass with anti-scrying spells, anti-invisibility spells, spells of protection, so on and so forth. It's a lot of magic, more than he normally does, and Strange knows that he won't be able to keep the wards and the summoning circle itself up forever. Still, hopefully he can keep them long enough for the others to be rescued and for him to gain all sorts of useful information about Nightshade.

As Strange casts the summoning spell, Nightshade finds herself summoned into the hotel room, stuck in the middle of a summoning circle about three feet wide and comprised of all sorts of miscellaneous objects with varying levels of magical potency. Strange looks far too smug for someone who's obviously juggling a lot of spells. "State your name, faerie."

[npcarnival]

Nightshade yawns, fluttering her wings as she hangs in the air, not overly concerned with any of proceedings. She glances around the room, as if visually checking out the selection of wards that had been laid down.

"You know, if you'd wanted this to work, something a bit more personal would have been better," she comments. She does not, in fact, state her name - nor does Strange have any sense of having control over her at all.

[kingsroads]

Well fuck. At least when he inevitably summons a member of the fae again, he'll have better idea of how to do this. Because the lack of control is pissing him off more than he realizes.

"And summon you right in the middle of my house so that you know where I live? That won't happen--I'm not an idiot, after all." Strange rolls his eyes in a manner that's a bit too petulant for a grownass man. "Besides, I wanted neutral ground for our discussion."

[npcarnival]

"No, but you see," she says, thoughtfully tapping her chin, as if discussing the merits of a painting. "Ownership is what will protect you. And if you thought you'd ever claim ownership over the likes of me... I'm afraid you were mistaken, weren't you?"

She gives her a blank look, and it's difficult to tell whether she's about to smite him or not. After a moment, however, she laughs.

"But since I'm already here, I guess I'll humour you! What important business does a two bit wizard like you have for someone like me?"

[kingsroads]

"I don't want to claim ownership." And then, Strange's smugness increases about tenfold as he gloats, "I've already one of your kind in my possession, I don't need to add another."

Sort of. Childermass still counts, even if he's only a changeling. Besides, he knows he can't do any sort of obedience or binding spell in this situation. This is a hundred percent Strange playing this by ear and trying to seem more competent than he actually is--even though he obviously bristles at being called a two bit wizard.

"My important business is two fold. First, I want your opinion on some recent developments of the past few days." Because odd things have been happening in Portland and, while the fae might not have any idea about warlocks approaching, she might have an idea about what's going on with the spirits.

[npcarnival]

She stares at him. She's clearly not impressed.

"Is that so?" is all she says, looking bored. She clearly doesn't believe that he has anyone of 'her kind' in his possession, and she is waiting to hear what she gets out of this arrangement.

[kingsroads]

"I am a mage with the Circle of Enlightenment. Recently, the Circle's come in possession of some odd information that I'm sure whatever court you serve would appreciate as it concerns the state of magic as a whole. I tell you the information, you tell me what you think of it, both of us part our separate ways, happy to distribute this information as we see fit."

Some of the odd information is information that the fae might know themselves: the planetary movements, lack of spirits, the sheer oddness around magic so far. And some of the odd information is things that Strange is keeping to himself--the information about the warlock, for example. Still, he certainly seems that he knows what he's talking about and is trying to give off the impression that this information is worthwhile.

"We'll discuss the second part of my business with you after that."

[npcarnival]

At his proposition, her attitude turns on a dime. Something about this is appealing, but the reasons why are still unknown.

"Alright then," she says without much hesitation, smiling sweetly as she leans in to list. Her wings flutter, and some magic sparkles happen. "What do you have for me, little human?"

[kingsroads]

There's a glint of...something in his eyes. Excitement? Madness? Whatever it is, Strange is just so gung-ho about summoning and talking with a faerie and so so blind to the potential ways this could fuck him over.

"Capital," he remarks with a smile. "To start with, how much stock do your kind put in omens?"

[npcarnival]

She leans back, crossing her arms and waggling a finger at him.

"Oh, no no no," she says, as if scolding him for doing a naughty. "You haven't told me anything yet. That wasn't our deal."

[kingsroads]

"I'm asking so I can tell you. After all, I wouldn't want to tell you something that your kind wouldn't view as important in the first place."

Strange's tone is equally light-hearted, as if this isn't a slightly worrying conversation to begin with.

[npcarnival]

"Mhmm," Nightshade hums and looks at her nails. They are naturally purple, and apparently quite sharp. "I'm getting bored," she says in a singsong tone.