Lost Carnival Mods (
ringleaders) wrote in
lostcarnival2017-05-31 11:56 am
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- @portland,
- allen walker,
- amethyst,
- ashleigh mischief,
- axel,
- carly nagisa,
- doll,
- dr. helen magnus,
- elsa,
- ginko,
- greg universe,
- hinawa,
- jack atlas,
- jimmy novak,
- john childermass,
- joker,
- jonathan strange,
- julien delacroix,
- lambert,
- miko nakadai,
- noboru gongenzaka,
- papyrus,
- pearl,
- peridot,
- renzo shima,
- rita mordio,
- sans,
- snake,
- steven universe,
- yotsuba tamaki,
- yūya sakaki,
- zecora,
- zim
⇨ 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!
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. |
► INTO THE SHADE (AFTERNOON, OCTOBER 6TH)
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.
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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."
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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
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.
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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.
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"Hey!!!" she yells. "Hey, stop sneakin' around and trying to be creepy, no one's impressed!!"
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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"What kinda dumb trick is this?" she hisses.
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"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?"
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team distraction, strange & nightshade
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."
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"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.
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"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."
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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?"
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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.
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"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.
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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."
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"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?"
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"Capital," he remarks with a smile. "To start with, how much stock do your kind put in omens?"
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"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."
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Strange's tone is equally light-hearted, as if this isn't a slightly worrying conversation to begin with.
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