lostcarnival | ⇨ THE CELEBRATION

Who: Everyone, especially YOU.
When: Day 60 - Day 65
Where: The Celebration
What: The carnival workers are invited to spend the week within the realm of the Celebration, the grounds of a party that has been going on for centuries. Accommodations are luxurious, but those with keen instincts might notice something off about this whole arrangement... (Questions can go to the original setting post!)
Warnings: Booze, drugs, sex, and everything in between.

THE CELEBRATION↴

If you observe that the layout of the Celebration grounds seem inconsistent, then you would be correct. In reality, what lies at the end of each corridor depends largely on what the guests of the Celebration want at the time - if a few people find themselves craving a drink, a bar may appear. If a group finds themselves wanting to dance, a club will open up. This goes on at all hours of the night, and given how many dedicated partiers fill the building, the services are well used. It isn't instantaneous, and the Host has to consciously decide to provide that service, but the changes are fast none-the-less.

► ROOMS: Each trailer pair will be assigned a room to themselves - whether or not it has two double beds or a single king sized bed seems essentially random. Hopefully you aren't too sensitive about keeping that space to yourself. The curtains at the far side of the room don't actually lead outside, but instead to a walk-in closet filled with the Host's best guesses at the type of clothing you might like. They may not hit the nail on the head, but at the very least all the clothing will be in your size. The styles could be just about anything, from any universe, but they do tend to average out to clothing that is Earth-ish. Either that, or clothing that looks like they are meant for elves from a high fantasy novel to wear.

► SHOPPING: If none of your pre-picked outfits tickle your fancy, plenty of boutiques and clothing shops can also be found around the grounds - whatever you're thinking of, you'll probably be able to find a shop appropriate for it eventually. Though, maybe it doesn't really count as shopping if you don't have to pay for any of the things you take back to your room with you? Unfortunately, from the sounds of it, you won't be allowed to drag all of your haul back to the carnival with you, so you better enjoy it while you can.

► DINING: There is no daily schedule to follow, after you arrive. You are free to attend the dining room whenever you wish, and will be seated at large round tables with whoever else may be around at the time, and can either order from the menu or most dishes you may think of off the top of your head. If you don't like the fine dining experience, there are also a selection of smaller cafes and eateries that open and close at varying times of day - and, of course, you can always call for room service.

► ENTERTAINMENT: There is plenty of live music around the grounds (not that you can ever seem to remember who the performers were afterwards) whether it comes to harp music while you eat or a full set of DJs in the club you found. If you are inclined to look for them, you may also find some cozy lounges with big screen TVs, and access to a multi-universal quantity of films. What's there or isn't there is unpredictable, but if you come from a standard variety of Earth you probably recognize some of them.

► SUBSTANCES: You don't have to be coy about it - just ask one of your servers, and you'll be able to get whatever kind of vices you might be craving. Drugs, alcohol, ice cream... it's all good. If this sounds like a nightmare for potential addicts, you would be correct. It's not uncommon to see people clearly over-indulging in certain locations, though guests are usually escorted back to their rooms if they take ill - only to see them back at it again the next day.

► SPA DAY: If you'd like to take a swim, pools of various aesthetics are easy to find. So are hot tubs, and saunas, and Host servants who are willing to give you a massage or manicure. If the party crowd isn't your scene, there are plenty of more low-key opportunities to indulge.

► GREENSPACE: There is one park area on the grounds, which appears to be constructed on the rooftops of other parts of the complex. While there are trees and greenery, there is no real sky that you can see - only the illusion of one. It may start to occur to you over time that no window or rooftop actually leads to any kind of outdoors. The Celebration really is there only thing here.

These are really just examples, and you can get creative with what kind of services you find offered while here, when it comes to generally mundane comforts. It really feels like the Host wants to win you over, as if you staying just a little longer has some sort of intrinsic appeal.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Unfortunately — or not, depending on one's point of view — it'll be Childermass with a headache and a generally bad mood that Annabelle will find relieving her of the wine glass before she can spill out the rest of its contents. He imagines the bizarre servants that pop in and out so abruptly will be along shortly to clean the mess up, but there's little point in letting it continue and, well, it is in part habit. While he was never actually the head butler at Hurtfew or at the London house or anywhere, really, he filled in when necessary and watching that go on had been a bothersome thing.

"Miss, I believe you have misplaced half your drink on the floor," he'll point out. While he is in a bad mood, he at least doesn't let that show through his usual impassive way of speaking. He doubts she spilled it on purpose, so what's the point in being mean?

Annabelle jumps when her glass is taken, seeming alarmed; she hadn't noticed she was spilling her wine at all, in the first place. Hand flattened against her bare collar bones, she looks at Childermass with wide, surprised eyes.

"Oh!" she says suddenly. Were she more socially well adjusted, she might have flushed with embarrassment, but she doesn't seem to move beyond being spooked. "My goodness. I suppose that's a sign that I've had enough, then," she comments. It was only one glass prior to this one, but she wasn't a heavy drinker as it was. "I've never seen anything like these trapped, moving images—" she explains, glancing back at the screen while her head remains turned to Childermass, and she gestures towards them with her hand. "—I was so fascinated, everything else stopped existing for a moment."

"I suppose it must be," Childermass agrees. As what he suspects is normal for this place, it's only a matter of seconds until one of the Host's servants — blank-faced and impossible to truly focus on — sweeps past the both of them to clean up the mess. Another second or two after that one, another one arrives, but this one is here to offer Annabelle a new glass of wine from the tray it carries with plenty of other options.

Their presence is something Childermass himself considers unsettling, so he'll only frown at them as they arrive. At the very least, he'll set the glass he took away on the second servant's tray.

"She won't be having another," he tells it, though it'll ignore him as it isn't there for him, not really. Blasted things. As for the moving images, well, he supposes one good thing to come out of the Matrix stop was an introduction to modern technology. Since he can't shoo the servants away, he'll look up at the same screens, though without any similar fascination. "And those are televisions. The images are not trapped, only displayed from elsewhere."

Annabelle, on the contrary, watches the spooky, ethereal servants with a sort of fond fascination. To her, they're merely a testament to one's magic; a manifestation of the Host's power, even if Annabelle doesn't know quite that much. She looks as though she might be admiring them, when they come and take her drink from them.

She rolls her eyes back at Childermass, smiling with interest to him as well—she finds it amusing he's asserted that decision on her behalf, and showing no further want for the treat, the servants obey—even if it isn't Childermass they heed to, in this case. They disperse, sensing Annabelle is satisfied.

She then looks back at the televisions, ruminating on Childermass's explanation.

"Fascinating," she answers sincerely, blinking with a little bit of a squint. She wonders if it's like how light reflects as a prism, sometimes—some grand, convoluted thing similar to that. "Is it magic not unique to this world? You seem familiar," she observes, looking back to Childermass.

Telling off other servants when they've overstepped has not been an uncommon occurrence in Childermass's life, though less so now than ever before. Still, some habits die hard and these servants, as mentioned before, unsettle him. Telling them politely to piss off was the goal of speaking for Annabelle, though that he's ignored only causes him further irritation.

They're gone, though, so it's not like he has anyone to glower at.

"Magic? Oh, it is not magic at all," he'll correct instead. Chances are trying to explain televisions will be more interesting than going around and being rude to the Host's staff, so there's a plus. "They are machines, man-made." He tips his head up towards the same displays that she's been looking at. "And while I have only encountered them in one world thus far, it was an analog of Earth. I imagine we'll be seeing them plenty of other places."

"Machines..." Annabelle says distantly, watching them. That almost makes it more magical to her, though of course not in a literal sense. Magic can of course accomplish almost anything—such that technologies are neglected, a little bit. In her world, magicians are rare enough that it doesn't stunt its progress completely, but one sworn-in magician is enough for an entire region to slack on that front for a decade or so.

For the first time, she feels a fond attraction towards machinery. That it could have this type of mystery and wonder!

"I suppose machines this sophisticated are common in most other worlds, then?" she asks, glancing at Childermass. Not for long, though. While she's looking at him, her eyes are back on the screen. "To think something so incredibly advanced is being used for something equally incredibly mundane... It's amazing; brilliant."

The humor isn't lost on Annabelle, but somehow, neither is any of the poetry. Whether or not there actually is any poetry to it is very debatable.

"How many, I would not be able to say," Childermass admits. He won't be surprised when they run into that level of technology again, however, although he may be very irritated depending. "If you think these so amazing, however, I am sure you will find no end of amusement when we do come across such a place. There are far more advancements than only these."

Cars, for instance, but he really doesn't like cars.

"I imagine!"

She hadn't thought about it, herself, but her eyes light anew with excitement with Childermass's point. She even hops a little, clapping her hands together loudly. She then tilts her flat, touching hands to one side, in the same direction as her tilting head.

"It sounds like you've already seen so much. I'm envious. Which have you found the most impressive?"

"The Realm of Dreams," is Childermass's immediate answer after taking only a few seconds to consider. He still hates the Matrix and wouldn't be willing to talk about it in depth, whereas Atlantis was fascinating, but also involved far too many gills. The first realm he visited, however, had been mostly fine.

Provided one ignored the living nightmares occasionally trying to eat you, but hey. It's a dream thing.

"It contained just about anything you could imagine seeing in a dream and then some."

⇨ THE CELEBRATION

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