Lost Carnival Logs
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11th-Jan-2017 12:13 am - Caw-Caw
predaconchow: (Default)
Who: Starscream and YOU
What: Shistscram is freed from one kind of bird jail, but is still just as trapped as ever in the other. Er. He's out of his cage, but he's still trapped inside a tiny feathery body.
Where: Here, there and everywhere around the carnival grounds.
When: After the Matrix
Warnings: Nothing worse than a Rude Nasty Bird.


First the Ringmaster turns him into a crow, then he gets shoved into solitary for an extended period of time. Truly, the cruelty of the tyrants that run this place knows no bounds.
At least, that’s how Starscream sees it. Anyone sensible who actually has the full story would unanimously agree that he deserved it for being a wad, but, Starscream isn’t a Cybertronian known for taking responsibility for his actions.

Regardless, he’s back now. Free, in a sense… or as free as he can get when he’s bound to the carnival grounds. As soon as he’d been turned loose from the Ringmaster’s tent he’d taken wing and flown as high as he could get, circling several times around the carnival grounds before settling atop the peak of the Big Top. He’s been out of action for a while… the first thing he should probably do is get the lay of the land.


A. Somebody’s watching you…

Relative newcomers to the carnival scene may find themselves suffering under the uncanny sense that they’re being watched. That feeling can be traced back to a singular source: A large, black and grey crow that has been skulking around the fairgrounds, watching workers and guests alike with its beady little eyes. It doesn’t seem to be particularly malevolent, nor does it seem to want anything. It’s just watching you, far more closely than any regular crow should be. In fact there’s something unsettlingly intelligent about its gaze, even by corvid standards. Like it knows and understands far more than it should, or that maybe it’s capable of speaking to you, and just hasn’t spoken up yet.

Wherever you are, if Starscream doesn’t recognize you, he’s going to be watching you. Trying to size you up, and figure out if you’re the type of person who might be useful to know…


Bad Blood (closed to Veterans)

Likewise, veterans of the carnival who have been around since before the vampires attacked may also get that same feeling of being watched, but Starscream is being far more furtive about it with you. In some cases, depending on past interactions, he may even be avoiding you, cawing and flying away at first eye contact.

Basically this is a sort of vague prompt for establishing old CR and playing out reactions to seeing a known traitor and troublemaker out and about on the grounds once more. Starscream used to work as a scout before he hecked up and got a one-way ticket to crow town, so veterans from that area will likely know him as a former 30 ft. tall robot with a nasty attitude. He’s kind of a negative CR machine. Message me at [plurk.com profile] awkwardpossum if you want to set up anything concrete for this.
7th-Jan-2017 11:12 pm - ⇨ INTERLUDE: A Continuation
ringleaders: (dragoneyed)
Who: The Ringmaster, all Supervisors, and any rule-breaker onlookers.
When: Twilight on D40
Where: The woods surrounding the grounds.
What: The Ringmaster found something threatening and has decided to share it with her supervisors.
Warnings: Wannabe satanism.

CATCH A FALLING STAR

The Ringmaster waits for all of the Supervisors to arrive before continuing onward. She doesn't say much about what they are doing as they wait for everyone to arrive, simply explaining that she has found something concerning that she needs to show them. Once everyone is together, she will lead the pack into the woods - with or without any snoops who may be trying to follow after, against her wishes.

The forest is far more accommodating to her than it is to anyone else who tries to navigate it. Instead of getting wound in circles by its path, and running into dead ends, it's as if the trees have moved themselves to intentionally create an easy path for her to follow. It's stretching into the twilight hours as they travel, and various phosphorescent flowers and pods have begun glowing among the leaves with the shift to night, faintly illuminating the way. The sun is low in the sky when they arrive at the spot, still present but swiftly fading as its light cuts through the trees in beams.

They reach an area that is not so much a clearing as it is a small space, tucked away between trunks and branches. In the center of that space lies a large, black mark, cut into the earth like a ritual sigil. The dirt and rock is blackened along its lines, and all plant-life within a few feet of its presence has died out completely. As the dark approaches, the black of the lines will seem to paradoxically glow, as if the void within it somehow creates a light of its own.

The Ringmaster kicks a few last leaves off of the mark - it seems that she's been clearing away mess from this spot already today, and indicates the digit with a snarl of disgust.

"I told you I was cursed!" she insists, putting her hands on her hips.
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