lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 2

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 7st - 14th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: The week begins as the time of the Animal Fair finally arrives! Meanwhile, the truth of this reality starts to be revealed, and forces both human and celestial alike attempt to take advantage of a rare opportunity.
Warnings: Individually marked!

BY ANY OTHER NAME↴

Tensions thicken as various supernaturally forces react to the events of the previous week. Something critical is afoot, and it's only a matter of time before things start coming to a head. It's time to find out more about what's happened to this world, and what will happen in its future.

► A NIGHT AT THE FAIR: From the night of the 7th to the morning of the 8th, the Animal Fair is officially in town. There is a top level down below with more information, though you can also RP content from this elsewhere if you wish. The host, who is very likely something called a Wyld Fae (if you discovered that ICly), will be present, but they will only be appearing to you of their own accord and attempting to track them down by force will be ineffective. Just kick back and relax! Fairs are supposed to be fun.

► THORNS IN YOUR SIDE: Culminating in a full fledged attack against the Sanctuary, it would seem that The Rose Queen is declaring war on the changeling population of Portland. Though the vicious attack of thorns against the safe house was eventually stopped, it wasn't without damage, and the black roses that caused it are still popping up around the city and threatening the places where homeless and lost changelings would be likely to congregate. It's obvious now that this is a serious threat - will it ever stop without an intervention?

► HELL ON EARTH: As Anath's march draws near, the first waves of her demons will be entering the city. Primarily acting as scouts and foot soldiers, these demons will be attempting to secure loyalty from the local demon populace, as well as taking out any angels they can manage to catch. It's a level of aggressiveness against heaven's forces that hasn't been seen for years, and it's a foreboding hint of things to come. These demons can be NPCed by anyone, and will mostly be thugs or manipulators who don't know much about Anath's plans but do know that you need to join their side. They are also rowdier than most of the demons in Portland, and are a threat to the innocent mortal populace as well, if they decide to try to get their kicks here.

► THE WIZARD POLICE: The Enlightenment Council seems to have demanded control of the local Circle chapter, and now backup has arrived. These mages are being sent out into the city as if they are a police force, and will be attempting to demand control of various common supernatural areas, as well as questioning community members that they run into. Whatever is going on, it seems to have resulted in the Council instituting what is essentially martial law... of course, not everyone sees any need to heed their demands. If you are a demon, warlock, or other rogue element, expect to be harassed or even attacked by them. These character can be NPCed, and if you need additional information you can ask the mods.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tallisibeth nods, eyeing him guardedly. She's not a good judge for who does and doesn't know about the supernatural. There's a lot of supernatural to know about, of course, and most people aren't as obsessive about learning and studying as she, otherwise college campuses would be far more sober places.

The librarian does look like the kind of person who'd carry a knife just to make himself look more dangerous. As if he doesn't look like a faceful of cement already. It'd probably be easier and more masculine to get a hunting knife, something less on the fanciful end, though.

"These narrow thin blades are convenient for ritual preparation of ingredients or sacrifice, but torque wouldn't be very good for them. I guess... Slash or stab?"

"I'd prefer something good for both, but I'll take slash over stab," Lambert answers, with less hesitation than he probably should have, but he isn't really worrying about how he is or isn't coming across right now. "Something sturdy enough to disable, if I need it to."

Stabs are good for a killing blow, but only when your opponent was already too slow or too disoriented to attempt a counterstrike. It takes him a minute to even register where his train of thought's gone down, and his frown grows even deeper. When did he become so bloodthirsty himself, he wonders...

"Don't exactly have a lot of cash on hand, though."

Despite herself and her misgivings, she's kind of having fun. People don't usually come in and ask so much. The closest is generally those ones who like to sacrifice roosters, but they tend to have clear ideas of what they want ahead of time.

"Then of these, you'd want this one." Tallisibeth indicates an oddly plain knife off to the side, which has a pierced hilt carrying a leather cord with an amber bead on it. There are some inscriptions on it, all small and subdued. It doesn't glitter like a lot of the other pieces, though it does shine with a high gloss. "It's conceived as a survival knife, so it's definitely more for cutting, but it's heavy and the point is true. Probably the most versatile thing here." There's a long story about who made basically a hunting knife with silverplate, and for what, and how it ended up with her to be refurbished.

"Well, I can take checks. None of these are that great in a fight, though," she warns. "A bigger, sturdier silverplate knife would be crazy expensive. Custom work, not something to sell on the street. If I had anything like this knife's big sister, I mean."

"I'm hoping I won't need something that big," Lambert grimaces slightly, frowning. He will, however, pick up the knife to examine it, feeling the weight and heft of it in his hand. It still doesn't feel right, exactly, but ... it's comforting.

Which is probably a bad sign. Knives shouldn't be comforting, ever, except to certain kinds of people and Lambert is pretty sure (hoping) he isn't that kind.

"All right, then. I guess I'll take this." Hopefully she doesn't ask why he needs it, but... "What are the inscriptions for?"

"Those are usually very specialist uses anyway." Monster hunters are uncommon people and not everything that phrase makes them up to be. They're more inclined to bullets these days, for one.

"Traditional silverplate inscription to keep the blade true and strong. Or, you know, that's the official meaning. I've always read it as more swearing and saying the silver had better stay in place." Tallisibeth can restore blades and that's already plenty of work. Making them is, from what she's seen, an entirely new level of difficulty and tedium.

Yeah this guy is clearly suspect, to the point where she's acutely aware that her alarm bells should be going off. Somehow this guy, whoever he is, should be carrying blades, and that shouldn't bother her, though she doesn't really feel safe around him, either. What's with that? Tallisibeth stares at him like the answers should be tattooed somewhere, forgetting that she should really talk price.

Being blissfully unaware of Torchlight's existence, Lambert doesn't have an opinion of monster hunters outside of bad TV shows with tiny special effects budgets, so he has to briefly puzzle over what Scout means by 'specialists.'

And then she says that and he can't help snorting, a burst of amusement that has his nose and the corners of his eyes crinkling up. It's not an expression he wears often, and it settles quickly enough, but it lingers in his voice when he responds.

"Hey, if it works, sounds like it was worth putting on," Lambert shrugs. "Having it break in the middle of a fight would be the worst way to find out." Now that he's looking at her, she feels familiar, and not just from the cafe either ... and also, she seems a little perturbed.

"... Something wrong?" He feels a bit like he might have gotten horns on his head.

Tallisibeth grins broadly, fleetingly, involuntarily. She's too young to wrinkle but if she started, she wouldn't have smile lines. This version of her might have an easier life and less grief, but she also doesn't enjoy things as vividly. "You never rely on magic, sorry, on 'traditional inscriptions' to make up for terrible craftmanship. But hey maybe they help if it's made well. This one is."

He notices her staring and then she notices she's staring and immediately looks away, flushing red under her freckles. The ease she'd felt discussing the knives evaporating, along with that tip-of-the-tongue sense of familiarity. Damn. "Nothing," she mumbles.

Is he going to think she likes him after this? God, no, he's old and ugly, but that's usually what staring and blushing means in media. "I was trying to remember where I'd seen you before, you know, but uh. Duh. Librarian."

It's okay, Scout, it takes more than weird staring for the idea of someone liking him to penetrate Lambert's brain in this universe. Mostly, he's wondering if he has a big sign on his head that says something like 'I have dreams about killing things in super violent ways.'

Nonetheless, he's putting back the knife for the moment, but only so he can pull out a checkbook, though he won't resist ribbing Scout as he goes.

"You usually had your nose in a book, so I'm not surprised you don't remember. So, how much do I owe you?"

⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 2

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