lostcarnival | ⇨ THE MASQUERADE

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⇨ THE MASQUERADE

Who: Everyone! Attendance is mandatory.
When: Late Day 65
Where: The Celebration
What: The Masquerade arrives, and so does the carnival's enemies. For more info, check out the Draculas 101.
Warnings: Further party hell. Also, vampire violence, mind control, etc.

THE HOST & THE HORDE↴

The time of the Masquerade arrives. You've been given free reign of the place up till now, but a few hours before the party commences the Host will inform you that your presence will be required, and will assist you (forcibly, if need be) to sort out any last minute costuming concerns you might have if you've left it until now. When masks and outfits are sorted, you'll be left to your own devices until you are summoned on the evening of Day 65.

The Masquerade will start off normally - relative to everything else in this place, at least. Everyone in the Celebration will be called in for this event, centered in a grand hall with side rooms offered to those that need them for whatever reasons might come up. The food and drink is especially ambrosia-esque this evening, and the music will stir your soul, even if you're not usually a music person. Enjoy it if you can - the peace won't last.

► MASKS: Though the masks seemed only mundane before, once within the Masquerade atmosphere, they will magically begin obscuring people's identities beyond what a normal mask should be able to do. When a person is wearing one, it would be supernaturally difficult to figure out who they are - maybe you forget what their voice should sound like, or maybe the other details escape you. Of course, it's possible to figure out if you look for it, based on general shapes and personality traits, but unless you know someone well it could be a challenge. Of course, you can just take your mask off and remove the enchantment entirely - though the Host will hassle you if they notice you going without. Stop ruining the party!

► TEMPTATION: Though it's felt easy to be whisked away by the draw of pleasure and luxury during the rest of the week, that feeling will seem to come to a head at the actual party. If you are aware of what needs to be resisted then it's possible to fight back and ignore it, but more than ever it feels all too easy to just dance your life away. Nobody seems to be dying from it, at least, or 'burning out' any faster as a result - it's mostly just extremely distracting from other concerns. Like vampires, for instance.

VAMPIRE: THE MASQUERADE↴
It's during the latter half of the party that things will start to go bad. Though it will go unseen by the carnival, the Masquerade has gained an additional set of guests - the vampire's of the demon lord that has been chasing them for the last several months. The Host doesn't discriminate, and anyone is welcome to attend the Celebration, provided they don't start a fight.

Right. About that.

► THE KINDRED: The vampires don't like to play fair, which means that they are going to be attacking with stealth and trickery - taking advantage of the way that the party has dulled the alertness of many of the carnival's workers. They'll be using that lack of inhibition to lure individuals into places they can be attacked or turned in private - their primary goals are to capture the Supervisors and to turn as many of the Ringmaster's workers as possible before escaping back to their dimension. Some of their targets will be gone before anyone has a chance to notice.

Remembering that they will be avoiding big public confrontations, so if anyone starts one of those it will probably by the carnival members striking back. This is going to wear on the Host's patience extremely quickly.

► COLD IRON: Oh, right, and they are definitely bringing iron weapons - as pure as they could get. They'll have things like iron collars or shackles to try to trap people with, as well as iron daggers and guns with iron bullets. They'll have to be on the down low with, but they are going to exploit that weakeness as much as possible. Those that have only been in the carnival a few months will mostly just feel discomfort at the touch of it - as if they are touching something that is slightly too hot or too cold. Veterans that have been around for years will find its touch to be burningly cold - the type of temperature that would threaten to destroy flesh after prolonged contact. Those that have been here for up to three years will take it the worst. See the Transformations page for more details!

► TURNING THE TABLES: Being turned is a mixture of pleasure and pain, and is often hard for mortals to mentally reconcile as it happens to them. Being drained by these vampires is simultaneously impossibly satisfying and extremely terrifying - once they've started in on your, the way it overwhelms your mind and body can make it nearly impossible to stop them without help. Once you are dead or dying, they will feed you their blood - at which point your body will go through a painful transformation as the demon spirit takes its place inside of you and your dead body is violently resurrected.

As soon as you wake up, freshly changed, the bloodlust will set it - it will be extremely hard to control, and at first all you will think about is wanting to sate that hunger. Combined with your sire having direct control if your mind through your blood connection, new vampires will be mostly incapable of doing anything but following the whims of the rest of the vampire pack and seeking nourishment. This blood lust will begin to fade after they've fed. Killing isn't necessary to feed, but it can be hard to stop yourself, as a neonate vampire.

► CLOSING TIME: Before the party is officially over, the Host will have had enough. Before you can pursue all of the vampires or take back the people they've stolen, the lot of them will have escaped back to their dimension, and the Host will have kicked the entire carnival out for participating in so much violence. If you want to make any final moves before you go, this is the time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Already, Greg's gotten pulled aside by the Host a couple times for pulling his mask off. Forget the party, he needs to find someone! This is hard enough without this awful enchantment muddying his perception.

It makes it especially easy to notice, however, when someone else has taken their mask off. Or perhaps that's simply the urge to pay attention speaking. Either way, even if this isn't who Greg was looking for his attention is certainly piqued. Particularly by that distressing dark smudge at the lip.

"Hey--you're--it's Jamie, right?"

Greg slips his own mask, a weaving of leaves and creepers, up onto his forehead again. The whole situation has made him agitated and pretty impatient, but his concern overtakes the rest.

"Are you doing all right? Did something happen?"

"Mr. Universe?..."

His voice is faint and uncertain, his head tipping to the side to regard the man in front of him as though he's trying to process conflicting pieces of information. This is someone he works with, someone he likes, someone who's full of all the warm delicious blood he could possibly want -

He frowns slightly, as though there's some distant part of him that finds this idea maybe just a little distasteful, and peers up at Greg worriedly. "It's - I dunno, I feel kinda...weird..."

Well, it's not a lie, anyway. He thinks he can practically smell Greg's blood, hear it pulsing through his body, and the thought of it makes his stomach roil as his gaze zeroes in on Greg's throat. The blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth increases a little, a small but steady trickle that drips from his chin.

"You're bleeding."

He draws closer, instantly anxious. Something's happened, a kid is hurt and everyone's partying instead of paying attention because no one notices anything important around here and he has to help--

"C'mon. Let's--we can find the doctor. Let's get away from all this mess. How do you feel, can you walk?"

That dazed, strange look in Jamie's eye may catch Greg's attention, but he chalks it up to illness, or... something. Something's wrong, he knows that much.

Greg moves in a little nearer, the rush of blood inside him all the more noticeable, and if Jamie were still capable of it his breath would catch in his throat. As it is his pupils dilate and he gapes a little, his mouth red and slick and more blood escaping from where it's pooled behind his teeth to cover his chin and spatter his clothes and the floor. He's suddenly aware of how hungry he is, so hungry he feels sick to his stomach.

"I think - I think I'm gonna - "

A shudder ripples through him and he retches, but nothing comes up aside from a little bloodspray from what fluid is still in his mouth. His head snaps up to fix Greg with the kind of look a starving dog might give a rabbit, pupils slitted in red eyes, lips curled back to expose canines that are much, much longer than belong on any normal human. Which, to be fair, wouldn't be all that unusual among the carnival employees.

It's much more noteworthy that Jamie utters a bestial snarl and lunges with unnatural agility straight for Greg's neck.

Oh no, oh no something's really wrong, he's been hurt and he's bleeding bad, he's gotta do something--

Greg pitches another step forward as Jamie retches, but the alarm bells finally start ringing. Yes, something's definitely wrong here, and the kid's certainly sick, but... the eyes snap onto Greg, full of mindless hunger, and Greg has a split second to react.

His skin goes rough and gray as the magic he's learned surges through him. Joints stiffen and his senses dull, just a bit, but the stoneskin holds out against the attack as it's meant.

"Augh--Jamie!" His voice is rough through his changed form. It takes effort to get his arms up and try and pull his attacker off. "S-snap out of it!"

Clawed fingers scrabble for purchase on unexpectedly rough hide as Jamie all but climbs up Greg, drooling blood and aiming a killing bite at the man's jugular. Instead of...whatever should be the normal sound for demon fangs puncturing human flesh, however, there's just a dull thunk as his sharpened teeth meet Greg's craggy skin.

Jamie recoils, startled. Chomps again. Thunk.

He shoots Greg a look of utter betrayal, as though he cannot believe the audacity of the guy protecting himself this way from a lethal attack.

In this moment of distraction Greg manages to pry Jamie off, an act which elicits a screech of indignant rage. "I NEED YOUR BLOOD!" he shrieks furiously, writhing and thrashing in his captor's grip. "WHY CAN'T I FIND YOUR BLOOD?!"

This sort of primal and violent rage is the last thing Greg expected to see here; wanton pleasure and hedonism, sure, but nothing like this. Certainly not from a coworker, from a kid who'd been fine just a few days ago--was it this place? Is this what happens when you indulge too much? ...No, that doesn't seem like a logical progression of events but this is weird and he's confused okay.

"I'm sort of using it!" Normally his voice would be awkwardly pitched with stress, but in this state it's all a gravelly rasp.

Greg's grip on Jamie tightens--not painfully, just trying to hold him in place. "Would you hold still--listen to me! Darn it--" Holding Jamie off the ground, he looks over the party. "The doctor's gotta be around here somewhere--masks can't hide four legs. I'm getting you to help, just try and calm down!"

Amidst Jamie's snarling, clawing and bloody frothing as he's held aloft, there comes a gentle but insistent mental nudge around the edges of Greg's brain: put him down.

It's faint but lingering, little more than a notion at first but steadily developing into an almost-audible mental voice - compelling, but perfectly calm throughout.

Just set the kid down. Nothing wrong here. No sense in making a big deal out of this, right? Let him go, he's not going to hurt anyone.

It's not really clear at what point the other being arrives, seemingly melting out of the shadows to stand a few paces away and gaze serenely at Greg and Jamie. He's a large man, in excess of six feet and sturdily built, hair and clothing clean but nondescript. As he observes the confrontation with his hands tucked nonchalantly into his pants pockets, he catches Greg's eye, lifts his eyebrows and offers a little smirk.

Spoiler: he's the guy talking in Greg's head it's him he's a vampire.

Oh.

You know, holding onto Jamie like this won't calm him down. He's already upset, grappling him like this will only make things worse. He'll feel better if Greg puts him down.

Greg sets him down, slightly befuddled but convinced by his apparent logic. This is awfully weird, of course, and he's still worried, but the last thing he wants is to escalate the situation. Better to find someone who knows how to handle this. Like that guy, right there.

"Ahh--hey, do you know what's going on here? My coworker here... he's..." Everything's fine. But also blood? But he's fine. But it is weird. "...can you help?"

As soon as his feet touch the floor Jamie scuttles away from Greg, glaring at him sullenly. Gosh man all he wanted was to drain you of your life's essence, what gives.

The other man comes forward, stopping beside Jamie to rest a hand on his head soothingly. Jamie leans into the touch, stretching to push up against the man's hand like a cat that can't get enough petting.

"Help with what?" The strange man frowns at Greg in apparent concern. "My boy hasn't been making trouble, has he?"

His boy? This guy--has he been at the carnival, or is he from Jamie's home, or...? Greg shakes off the question for now. More pressing matters.

"He--he's ill. I saw--he's been coughing, bleeding. Had some sort of attack, or fit...?" He definitely doesn't want to accuse Jamie of trying to bite him or whatever, he's just not well and doesn't know what he's doing. The way he calmed down next to the man just proves that. Somehow. Right?

There's a small sound of grinding stone as Greg gestures to the oblivious crowd of partiers. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves as normal. "There's a doctor from our place around here. Could you help me get him to her?"

"Ill? You're not ill, are you kiddo?" The man tousles Jamie's hair, clearly oblivious to the drying blood still liberally coating the lower half of his face. "He's just a little...rambunctious. You know how boys get, right?"

He pauses to think for a moment. "But I guess it couldn't hurt to go see this doctor of yours, if it'll help convince you. What's she look like?" He drapes his arm around Jamie's shoulder and gestures for Greg to lead on.

How boys get. That's not how boys get, is it? He says it is, but... but there's blood. Boys shouldn't bleed, not because they can't, they just shouldn't. Greg looks between the two of them, stony brow furrowed in conflict. The man says he's fine.

"The doctor... well, those masks can't hide four legs. It shouldn't take too long to find her."

He starts to turn, but looks back again, eyes on Jamie. His head hurts. It's noisy in here, and he's very tired, so his head hurts. Surely it's worse for Jamie.

"...He shouldn't be walking by himself. I can carry him, if you want."

The man brushes off Greg's concern. "Psssh. We raise 'em stronger than that in this family. Right, tiger?" He gives Jamie a playful punch to the shoulder, to which Jamie merely grins vacantly.

"Four legs, huh?" His eyes narrow in thought for a moment, darting furtively, but then he gestures for Greg to lead on. "Should narrow things down a little. What's your doctor's name?"

"Z...Zeco...? Uhh. I always call her Doc." He'd just been doing it as a nickname thing, but it's actually sort of embarrassing to realize he can't remember her name proper. She deserves better than that.

Greg starts moving through the crowd, slow and grinding. If Jamie's going to get ~~violent~~ rowdy again, he doesn't want to take risks. He can't say he thinks too much of that parenting tactic, but he's not about to butt in on how they do things. "How're you two related?"

"Zecora?" the man supplies. There's perhaps a hint of an odd note to his tone, as though this confirms something for him, but he continues without giving Greg too much time to think about it. "You know, now you mention it I think I saw her a little while ago, headed up toward the mezzanine level - said she wanted a break from all the activity." He indicates the sweeping staircases at one end of the ballroom, steering Jamie in that direction and clearly intending Greg should follow.

He takes his time answering Greg's question, thinking about it with a faint smile on his lips. "The boy and me? I guess you could say I made him everything he is right now. Isn't that right?" He looks down at Jamie, who returns a sort of intent, worshipful gaze that one might expect a dog to give its master. "We're very close, I can't believe he's never mentioned me."

"Oh! You are from the carnival." Greg can't think of any other reason the man would know her name. Well, Jamie could have told him. But what would be the odds of meeting someone from the past in a place like this? "Sorry, I haven't gotten everyone's names and faces down quite yet. Greg Universe."

There's something strange here, something he can't quite put his finger on. Something about Jamie's attitude, how the man is doing all the talking for him. But--first thing, they've got to find Zecora and get Jamie to help. He can figure out this guy when they're alone, maybe. "I'm glad you two can look out for each other. Things can get rough around here."

"Irvine. A pleasure." He neither confirms nor denies Greg's assumption about him being from the carnival, merely smiles benignly as they make their way across the ballroom floor toward the staircases.

"It's so important for kids to have adult supervision, isn't it? So many terrible things can happen to them otherwise. Awful things." He says the words with a certain relish that probably sounds somewhat inappropriate. "Just the thought of this young man wandering around that carnival on his own just...makes my heart stop. You understand me, right?"

It's a precision strike to Greg's weak point. Ashamed, he fixes his eyes on the stairs ahead instead of stealing glances back at the pair.

"I do."

The thought makes his stonespell weaken to a thick greyish hide, just so he can move a little faster. He has to get back to searching. Maybe Zecora will know something.

"I don't see her," he says as he nears the top. "How long ago did you run into her?"

"Can't have been too long," Irvine replies nonchalantly. He takes a few steps around the mezzanine, which is all but empty of people, most of the guests opting to enjoy the festivities below. "Take a look behind those curtains, maybe. She must be up here somewhere."

He notices the way Greg's rocky armor diminishes, eyes narrowing shrewdly, but is distracted from his contemplation by Jamie leaning against his side.

"I'm so hungry," he croaks, looking up at Irvine woefully.

He claps Jamie on the shoulder, his gaze returning to Greg. "Hang in there, kiddo. We'll get that taken care of soon."

"Why would she be..."

Except he's already looking, because Irvine said he should, and it can't really hurt to look. There's just so many places to look, she could be anywhere.

"Don't worry, Jamie, we'll figure this out." Greg rummages through the curtains as he assures him. There's not a whole lot a kid can eat when they're this sick, though. Certainly not all this fancy food at the party. Maybe some of that wiggly alien snack got him like this. Zecora will know. If only she were behind all this drapery! "We'll get you some nice broth, some rice, you'll be fine."

Irvine and his spawn follow Greg into the shadowy alcove formed by the heavy drapery, effectively cornering him. The elder vampire removes his arm from Jamie's shoulder, and the pair move into a flanking formation, Jamie following a silent order from his sire.

"I think he's gonna want something a little more filling than broth," Irvine says. Then the two vampires are rushing Greg, fangs bared and eyes alight.

"WhRGH"

He doesn't see the attack coming, and that extra second of recognition means his stoneskin can't protect his head from cracking against the wall or his antlers reverberating the hit around his skull.

Stone thickens and darkens over his skin, but Greg's eyes are unfocused. Jamie's having another episode, he's on him again. Irvine is...? Trying to get Jamie off, isn't he...? Why's he on Greg too...?

"Juh... Jamie? Jamie, stop--Irvine, help me!"

The vampires are fast, but Greg raises his defenses before either of them can get a fang into him. Jamie howls in frustration, but Irvine is grimly impressed with how quickly Greg's stoneskin takes effect.

"I don't think you need any help from me, pal, you're making this hard enough as it is."

He draws back one fist. "Neat trick you can do with the rock hide and all. You ever tested how much punishment it can take?"

Irvine drives his fist forward, aiming for the back of Greg's neck.

For what it's worth, Greg finally understands what's going on here. A bit late to do anything about it, but take what very, very, very small victories you can.

Irvine's words send a sick shiver through him, and he'd go pale if he were still proper flesh. He thrashes to try and break free, but it's two to one. His flailing saves his neck, if not his shoulder.

Greg yells out from the pain flaring through his defenses, his cry nearly drowning out the CRACK from inside. A hit like that should have pulverized his bones to pieces, and instead throws his arm out of his socket.

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