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.

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Sherlock has clearly seen better days. His suit's torn and bloodstained, he's got vampire bites on his neck, he's got blood on his chin, and his snake skull mask is broken, and just sitting on top of his hair. For all intents and purposes, it looks like he'd been turned, but he hadn't, ironically. The various substances in his blood for once protected him. Didn't stop people from grabbing bites though. He'd lost more than a pint. The color of his scales had turned a grayer shade of green, his slitted blue eyes bloodshot and bleary.

And right now, he was frantically trying to save as many members of the Carnival from vampires as possible. He'd already failed two people, Sora and Gon, and each failure weighed heavily on him, he couldn't stand up to someone as powerful as Sora's sire. It was clear he'd been injured, he'd cobbled together something to wrap around his chest for the time being, his ribs had been unfairly targeted multiple times.

"Hey, hey you!" His deductive abilities let him spot members of the Carnival, even if he didn't know them very well. "We have to get out of here!"

Sherlock noticed the smaller snake and stopped in his tracks. He'd been trying to bury his own beastial instincts but they'd come to a head with what just recently happened and he wasn't able to suppress them anymore. His forked tongue flicked out, and he could scent the blood reeking from them.

Oh blast, too late again.

Sherlock's words are enough to stop Snake in his tracks, and he turns to face him. The substances he absorbed through the blood of one of his victims are coming into full force, and his pupils are blown out wide, but the red of a starving vampire's irises are still visible around the sides. He sees weakened prey here, but... You're not appetizing, Sherlock. Your blood is full of drugs and adrenaline, and the pressure is too low, your heartbeat already erratic.

"'Get out? Yes. Before he comes back, before he makes us hurt people again.' says Emily." Snake looks around wildly, as if Xabat could be around the next pillar, wraps his arms around his shivering shoulders, and then takes a step closer to Sherlock.

"'Where is everyone? I'm so hungry,' says Emily." He takes another step closer, tongue playing across his fangs, which have extended significantly. Appetizing or not, if he starves too long he might go mad. The demon inside is already niggling at the corners of his mind - fightmaimkillEAT - and he's so close to losing control, so close to giving in.

Sherlock wasn't used to Snake's unique way of talking, so he sort of just stands there and blinks, trying to figure it out. He shook his head. He'd worry about that later.

"For what it's worth, I'm very sorry about this," Sherlock announced, before swinging a fist at Snake's jaw.

It's an embarassing punch for an accomplished boxer, the power behind it is weak, and he grunts in pain from the strain on his ribs. Wow. He should not have moved that quickly.

But he had to try and knock him out, and bring him back to the others.

Well. There's the fight.

Snake's practically moving in slowmo, or it feels like that, otherwise Sherlock wouldn't even get close. But he doesn't connect. Sherlock's even slower. Snake leans backward a little, and the hook sweeps past him.

With that, Snake makes eye contact with Sherlock. His eyes are still red, such a deep red. And he lunges. He's so hungry and this person tried to hit him, and nearly hit Emily too! He's not holding back, and leads with a sweeping grab at Sherlock's throat, but he telegraphs immensely. Sherlock might want to run.

Sherlock stumbles, the punch going awry and he catches himself before he falls forward. His own blue eyes widen as he notes the vicious red. What semblance of their old selves were left? Were they gone forever?

In normal circumstances the grab would have been laughable. But Sherlock's ribs ground together as he tried to jerk his body out of harm's way and he stumbled, too slow.

Blast!

He's caught.

Edited 2017-03-01 05:09 (UTC)

Holding the detective's throat almost tightly enough to cut off his breath, Snake pulls him down and face to face. "'We're barely in control. Do not test us.'" His voice is serious, but effeminate, until he continues. "... says Emily."

With that, he drops Sherlock and backs away. He really is barely in control, and he doesn't want to attack a carnival member. He takes several steps, and grabs himself again. He wasn't shivering when he grabbed Sherlock, but he is now. The drugs and his own lack of body heat have his body acting oddly.

Sherlock couldn't breathe, his voice hitched in his throat as he tried to push back futilely against him. And then, he was freed.

The detective stumbled back, rubbing the scales on his throat, shaking his head. That was a close one. He really should just make a run for it. But this was evidence that perhaps all was not lost. Snake was still here after all, there was some control...

"You can fight this," Sherlock said carefully. He kept his distance, tilting his head. "You don't look well. For a vampire that is."

Edited 2017-03-01 22:39 (UTC)

"'No. Hungry, thirsty. I'm starving.' says Emily." Emily looks to be well fed, in contrast to Snake's thinness and the veneer of half-drugged madness over his eyes. He's always taken care of his snakes, but this time it's cost him almost all the blood he's taken.

Emily releases Snake and hisses, low, long fangs visible in her mouth, longer than a milk snake should have. "'You smell terrible,' says Emily." That might be his saving grace. Snake's barely holding on, but Sherlock's drugged state is helping him, as is the empty side room Snake secluded himself in. At least, empty until Sherlock followed him into it.

Sherlock looks at the room around him, wondering if he can just...lock Snake in here. He was all-too aware of Vampiric strength, as his injuries would attest. He backed up slowly, his eyes flicking to the side to see if there was a door, and anything to prop up against it.

"I know I smell terrible. I'm actually quite bad for vampires," Sherlock said conversationally, not making any sudden moves. "Don't worry. You'll be taken care of soon enough."

That snake looked, impossibly, vampiric. What...!? How on earth did that happen? Some random desperate chomped on a poor little snake? Or perhaps the snake got into something she shouldn't have. That made more sense.

There is indeed a door, and outside there are chairs, but said door is unlikely to hold a vampire, even a neonate such as Snake, with just one chair. He looks miserable, holding himself, shaking, drugs only leaving his system as his stolen blood is drained by the now-unsteady Emily, but that makes him no less dangerous.

"'They'll kill us,' says Emily." It certainly seems like a definite possibility. Snake just hangs his head. Maybe it's better that way. He's always been a freak, but now he's a monster, too.

That...did not look like it would hold. Probably not even a sufficiently motivated ordinary lerson. Sherlock set his jaw, trying to think of another way out of this.

"Kill you?"

Sob stories were pretty much his life's work. Even if he pretended not to care--or actually didn't--he could never resist fighting injustice, or helping particularly vulnerable people. It wasn't Snake's fault he was like this. It was a downright tragedy if all of these members of the Carnival would end up being killed--again--or stuck like this.

Sherlock's brows furrowed, his voice turning a bit kinder, as he tried to look for something else that could contain him.

"I won't let them kill you. I'm sure there's a way out of this."

A little sniffle, but then his voice isn't sad at all, but desperate. "'Maybe... But I'm so hungry...' says Emily." He looks up at Sherlock, and by now he'd be panting if he were truly alive, from the sheer effort of holding himself - physically and mentally - back.

Instead, he's stopped breathing altogether. The silence is a little eerie on its own. His pupils narrow to threads. "'Run,' says Emily."

Then he lunges.

It was a little eerie. Sherlock's keen observational skills, while clearly functioning at non-optimum levels at the moment, picked up on that instantly. It was both fascinating and horrifying. They really were...dead. And yet, still alive. How did that even work--

He was so distracted that he scarcely heard the 'Run' and Snake was right THERE--

"GAHH--"

Sherlock instinctively took a swing, aiming his fist towards Snake's face. It was weak, and he felt his ribs jostle as he did so--"Aaaghh--" the white-hot pain of it nearly felled him right then and there.

The punch does not stop Snake, not by a longshot, but it does redirect him, right into a wall. He blinks for a second or two, but Sherlock is likely too incapacitated to capitalize on that time. Then Snake wheels about. He's still holding himself, still not breathing. That helps. Makes things that much easier to control, when he can barely smell Sherlock's blood. However, the sound of his heartbeat is still overwhelming, and Snake's still starving. He manages to hold himself back, teetering on the edge of insanity, but he can't speak without inhaling, can't tell Sherlock to get out without tasting the scent of wounded prey.

Sherlock couldn't move for a second, breathing heavily, every deep breath felt like a stab. He managed to right himself, holding his injured side, wincing.

What a mess he was. And he was too stubborn to just give up. He knew he was an idiot, he berated his stupidity under his breath. The pain was fading as he stayed still. His eyes going over to see if there was a metal rod in the curtains or something he could use to maybe bash him in the head or hold him back at least.

"See? You're still in there," Sherlock said, pointing a claw at him. "If you were really that far gone, I'd be dead already."

Snake allows himself a quick inhalation as the snake resting around his neck snarls. "'GET OUT!' says Emily!" He presses his face into his hands, shoulders shaking with the effort of not moving. Don't look, don't listen, don't even breathe. It's Sherlock's only hope.

Genius or not, the man's a fool to get into close quarters with a vampire, but there is a curtain rod above the doorway, so the room may be both screened and open at the same time. Snake can certainly hold back long enough for Sherlock to reach the door, if not for very much longer, though whether the older man leaves or tries something is up to him.

Oh, Sherlock is an idiot and knows it. He's also madly reckless and puts himself in danger unnecessarily, especially to save other people. He glanced up and quickly dashed for the door--quick being relative, he's really slowed down by his injuries and blood loss and just...everything...

He reached up--ow--and gripped his clawed hands around the bar, yanking it down. He ripped the curtain part off, and held the rod like a baseball bat, above his head. He did his best to ignore he pain in his sides.

"Right then. Have at it!"

With that, he tried to bring the bar down towards Snake's head.

It's not that Snake's beyond saving, it's that eventually the man - no, the monster - who turned him will come back and murder Sherlock for interfering. Snake can't see with his face covered, but Sherlock's words have him peeking, and...

He neatly and instinctively dodges the rod. It clips his ear, doing very little damage, but eliciting a faint hissing inhale of pain. Must be silver-plated. Then he grabs the end, ignoring how it smarts, and tries to use the older man's grip to shove Sherlock out the door.

It doesn't help that he chose a rod. Snake's been beaten with them before, back when he was young and hadn't learned better than to beg for food from the people who went by his cage. Hadn't learned not to talk. Even freedom hasn't changed the nervousness he feels about one in the hands of an older man, and he's more forceful than he strictly has to be.

Sherlock's not strong enough to withstand being shoved by a vampire, even at his full strength. He goes flying backwards out of the door, skidding several feet on the ground, letting loose a growl of pain. That. Hurt.

The rod clatters to the ground, but luckily it doesn't roll far and is reachable at arm's length. That is, if Sherlock could actually move and not just lie there in pain. His ribs had knocked around again, which really was starting to get quite annoying.

The hiss of pain at the mere touch of the rod isn't lost on Sherlock, however he doesn't feel as if he's got he strength to do much else at the moment than catch his breath. Hopefully Snake doesn't actually attack in the few moments he needs to compose himself.

Snake needs those moments to recover, himself. He hurt Sherlock. He was trying so hard not to, but he did. He's such a monster.

With that thought filling his head, he grabs and slams the door, locking it if he can. It opens outward from the small room, so Sherlock would have to pull it open if he wants to hit Snake again... But if Snake wants to seclude himself, hasn't Sherlock won?

It's easier to breathe with the door between them at least. Snake allows himself to inhale again.

It takes Sherlock a good long time to gather up his wits and manage to pull himself back up. Every movement was agony, and he just sat there for another few minutes, trying to breathe without it hurting. It wasn't really working.

He looked up, squinting at the door. Snake had slammed it shut, probably locking it.

Well.

That actually, somehow did work. Now if he just stayed there, and avoided chomping on anyone, maybe Sherlock could go and get some help.

He decides to keep the rod with him in case he got attacked again, as he shakily used it to pull himself up on and hobble with, as he turned around and went back towards the crowd to find any more members of the Carnival. And try not to pass out.

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⇨ THE MASQUERADE

Turn, turn, turn

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I rolled for whether or not he'd connect. Snake nearly crit succeeded.

LOL!

I meant if Snake would get hit, but he rolled well enough to probably connect back.

Gotcha!

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