⇨ GAME START INTRO LOG!

[ringleaders]

Who: EVERYONE!
When: NOW!
Where: Around the carnival grounds, and in the Cookhouse.
What: Carnival worker orientation, Ringmaster style.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, maybe drugs. Other things?

BRAVE NEW WORLD↴ ► THE NEW: It doesn't matter when you entered the tent to discuss your new contract with the Ringmaster, you exit it beneath a blanket of stars. Pointedly alien stars at that - currently the carnival grounds are being treated to a show of shooting stars, and what appear to be unnaturally large and living green moons hanging just a bit too close. The carnival was bustling when you entered, but now it's in the latter stages of being shut down for the night. If you manage to find a clock, it states that it's around 8PM. Workers from during the day will be passing through the grounds, attending to various pieces of business. None of them will seem very surprised or concerned by the goings on, though some may be sympathetic enough to pause and answer your questions. If you put some effort into finding out how it became nighttime, you may discover that it's been anywhere from a few hours to 7 days since you originally signed your contract. Someone may explain to you that it was probably some kind of time bubble, meant to keep you out of the way until the Ringmaster had time to deal with you. Every few minutes another new person will pop out of the tent, looking just as confused and under the impression that they had only just finished discussing things with the Ringmaster. Weird. She passed you a note before you left. Opening it up, you'll see you've been assigned a trailer number, and been given the instructions to drop off any excess belongings and do what you can to get settled in. You have until exactly 9:36PM to do so, because that's when you'll be expected to attend what is listed only as "WORKER'S ORIENTATION". This is, perhaps, more abrupt than you were expecting - but what can you do? You're here for the long haul. ► THE OLD: If you've ever seen a mass recruitment before, then this is no surprise. People enter the tent when they're recruited, and then sometimes how up again days later when the Ringmaster is ready for them. She isn't a big fan of wasting her time on individual orientations when she's expecting a crowd. Maybe you're too jaded to all of this to care much, but you'll see the newbies wandering around, probably confused and maybe a bit lost. Maybe you're the kind whose is sympathetic enough to pause your role in clean up and give them some directions, and maybe a word of confidence. Maybe you'll just jeer at them, because you're some kind of asshole. Either way, you expect you'll have the chance to see them later tonight. Whether by world of mouth, radio, or written note, supervisors will be passing out the following message: all workers are to report to the Cookhouse at 9:36PM sharp for "orientation." If you are at all familiar with how things go around here, you probably have a good idea of what this implies. Mandatory Karaoke Night. MANDATORY KARAOKE NIGHT!!!↴ At 9:36PM, the main dining hall of the Cookhouse will be found heavily decorator with various coloured lights and at least one disco ball made of what is ostensibly high karat gems. There are a bunch of cushions and additional seating set up along with the usual tables, and at the head of the call there is a state set up - a karaoke stage. For veteran workers, this is no surprise. Karaoke nights are fairly frequent as activities go, even if they are not usually mandatory. Some of you probably have signature songs already prepared. The karaoke machine is set up with mostly karaoke tracks that would be popular in the 90's and 00's on the average modern earth, with a few that are more recent. It also has some other random stuff from other worlds that people rarely sing because they are confusing and in languages no one understands. Here is a big karaoke list for your inspiration! The more stereotypically karaoke the better. Beyond that, there is plenty of food and snacks that were prepared by the cooks earlier, as well as a bar set up for alcohol and other vices. The selection is, as most things in the carnival, eclectic. Music will be played in between if nobody is singing, and otherwise veterans are encouraged to bring along their own fun and show the newbies a good time. The Ringmaster does ask that vets attempt to be courteous to their new coworkers. It's just being a good host.

Comments

Half-Hour Late!

[fastestdraw]

Punctuality!

That and walking the talk!

Two of a handful of things that Easel (hopefully) couldn't be fought on valuing.

Having just had a third shot of whiskey poured, it's not as if he's a hundred percent clean by the time Sans comes in, himself, say 'ey, on one front, he isn't going to judge.

But on the other?

He can't help but raise a (figurative) eyebrow as Sans heads for a chair.

He heads over, shot glass in hand, a few sparks kicking up under his hooves and disappearing in midair.

"Wouldn't have thought I'd a' had to lasso you, Sheriff!"

Or would he have? That question and any answers to it are moot. He is mostly saying this as a joke, in and of itself as a statement. Hopefully that's in his tone.

[osteothropy]

"Heh. It's like you don't know me at all," he says, leaning back on crossed arms and looking pretty damn pleased with himself. There is something sort of familiar about this, and he's not sure if its comforting or the opposite. Despite being most familiar with skeleton monsters, he's only ever actually seen ones that were a member of his family.

[fastestdraw]

It manages to be both at once, honestly - on one hand, ha, it does serve Easel right for having said that, and on the other, he might've liked to think a little more'd change in light of rank and situations than, well... just that.

Still, not for him to to make any judgements along those lines. Not out loud, anyway.

He downs his glass, and, holding it out to his side to vaguely indicate the rest of the room, asks.

"Gonna go have myself another - you want me to fetch ya anything?"

And then he points, with the same arm, to Sans's flask.

"Or you reckon you're all set for the time being?"

No joking or insinuation there - he's just casually asking that part in earnest.

[osteothropy]

He grins.

"It's empty." He tosses the flask and floats it over to Easel, not needing any more of an invitation than that. "Hit me up with whatever you got. Not feeling picky."

Then, his folds his arms behind his head again and closes his eyes. He appreciates Easel keeping his judgement to himself, at the very least. He doesn't care what people think of him.

[fastestdraw]

Easel grabs the flask, raises it a bit and nods.

"I gotcha."

There are worse nights to contribute to the possibility of a higher-up needing to be brought to their trailer in a wheelbarrow than one that pretty much mandates partying anyway.

He goes and gets himself a fourth pour, and gets a couple doses of the same in Sans's flask - if the man says he doesn't have a particular preference tonight, he'll take him at his word.

Heads on back over and sits down - on the ground, since, ah, a horse body doesn't really fit in a chair. Hands the flask back over to Sans and raises his glass.

A toast for the sake of it?