Lost Carnival Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ringleaders) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2017-02-26 02:17 pm
ringleaders) wrote in lostcarnival2017-02-26 02:17 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- @celebration,
- annabelle blishwick,
- foster van denend,
- ginko,
- greg universe,
- hinawa,
- jamie hemeros,
- john childermass,
- joker,
- jonathan strange,
- katsuki yuuri,
- koel babic,
- lambert,
- lauren,
- miko nakadai,
- mitsuki izumi,
- mutou yuugi,
- papyrus,
- renzo shima,
- sans,
- sherlock holmes,
- sophie welman,
- sora,
- steven universe,
- susan,
- the psiioniic,
- yotsuba tamaki
⇨ 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.
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. |
no subject
She stands with her hands on her hips, scrutinizing him. Stress relief. She's not in a huge dom mood or anything. That kind of working him over, breaking him down, she certainly enjoyed it but it was a kind of work. Definitely had effort involved and took more...thinking and stuff than she's really super able to do right now. She's just horny. Horny and drunk. And he's had plenty of foreplay as it is during the feeding so like, whatever. Just tie him up and get to it.
Oh right uh...with what? This wasn't her house, there weren't just copious restraining mechanisms lying around in basically every room. This was a standard, if fancy, hotel room basically. Oh! Duh, right sheets, that's like. Go To improvised bondage. But wait, Foster's already on the bed, shit.]
No wait, get back up again.
[This is like some weird game of Simon Says. Like...Sexy Simon Says. Strip Simon Says would just encourage fucking up though, they'd have to modify the punishment/reward system somehow but LATER. Right now the agenda is bondage. Fairly gracelessly she yanks the comforter off the bed, then the sheet. She starts winding it up into a roughly rope like shape.]
Okay NOW, lie down. Hands up at the headboard.
Transitional tag
no subject
But okay, awkward logistical stuff is out of the way time to get down to it. She straddles him across his stomach, wrapping the sheet once around both wrists, then tying it sloppily around the headboard. It's not her best job at restraint, but it's tight enough. It's not like Foster tends to go against her wishes anyway. A decent chunk of time the bondage was really more ornamental or symbolic as opposed to functional.
Now it's time to get into it. She sits, resting all her body weight on Foster's skinny gangly frame. It's a weirdly effective form of breathplay for them, and provides a unique kind of pain for him. And she likes to feel him struggle between her thighs. Normally right about now she'd start some kind of dirty talk. Humiliation, or degradation, but she doesn't really feel up to that at the moment. Her mind is a soup of booze and trying to remember what should be off limits for now... So instead she just grinds her hips down, and puts one hand on his neck. She's always had claws technically, but on returning to her own world the glammor had hidden them from him, and now she finally has the chance to show them off. The points dig in. She has no intent of mauling him (tonight anyway), but this is her way of teasing the possibility. ]
no subject
Then, he really did challenge her.
Now, though, he's been behaving himself fairly well. He wants what she wants; isn't that the natural ideal? Her weight comes down on his ribs, crushing breath from his dead lungs; he can feel his ribs strain, his muscles protest. As she pushes down, he pushes against her, fighting for each (unnecessary) breath, squirming for space, for his chest to rise, for freedom.
But her hand closes over his throat, piercing claws digging points into the dead flesh, and a surge of heat in his groin--excitement, anticipation, a thrill both physical and otherwise--his hips buck, just a little, twin beads of of saliva trickling down the corners of his mouth.]
More--
[He chokes, gasps wetly.]
More. Choke the life out of me! H...hhhhgk. Crush my ribs--like you mean it!
no subject
She takes her hand away immediately, and rises up somewhat on her knees, removing the pressure.]
Don't fucking tell me what to do.
[Through a haze of bitterness, she tries to remember again, what routine they'd had at his point in time. Had they figured out that pain as punishment didn't work for them yet? That can't be right, that was one of the first things they figured out together...Maybe he's just eager, maybe he's just forgetting. Whatever the case here's one place she's definitely not willing to start back at square one.]
I'm in charge here. If you want something you've got to earn it you shitheel.
[Oh yeah, there it is. She's getting back into it, this is gonna go fine. This is gonna go great. Foster's about to get a lesson (possibly for the first time) about trying to goad Sophie into things.]
no subject
The instant she takes that pain, that threat of real, serious injury away from him--the instant she speaks--
It's immediately effective.
A long time ago--or not so long ago, depending--he had done it on purpose, goading more and more out of her with deliberate misbehaviour. Until he pushed her to snapping; safewording herself to escape unscathed. Since then, she'd begun to punish him with something that really hurt; withholding pain, withholding sensation of any kind. A punishment worse than any, and far more explicit.
Correct contrition is a struggle; he's silent, yes, but there are a few seconds of still-heaving chest and desperate squirming before he goes still, recapturing his own control.
He meets her eyes, still silent--still drooling, hungrily, from the corners of his mouth, but obedient. Compliant. Waiting. For her command.
Even his cock stands at attention.
The strain is visible, however, so much so that she can watch him come closer to breaking with every second. He's ravenous for this, a lust for pain or pleasure or both, so his need is barely contained even under threat of losing it all.]
no subject
Watching him drool was always weirdly satisfying. It was an undeniable, uncontrollable sign that he was enjoying it. Like getting a cat to purr, but yknow. Gross and sexy. Grexy? No that's really dumb.
When she's dragged her nails down past the edge of his ribcage, she gives him a bit of what he wants.]
Good boy.
[And her hand moves, suddenly much faster, starting from the right edge of his collarbone and scratching down and across. The cuts left are long, but shallow, she did just feed after all, she doesn't want him to loose much more blood on top of that. But shallow, stinging, scrapes, ones that would just barely bead up with blood, that was perfect.]
no subject
Yes. There's something... perfect about that moment, the moment when Sophie takes away and in doing so, takes control, corrects him, steers him to becoming what she wants him to be. Attentive. Obedient.
His chest rises and falls--heavy breathing, ready, eager, just on the edge--her nails down his chest, he strains, shudders... but keeps a lid on it, just barely, just enough. And he is rewarded. She gets the satisfaction of a gasp and a short, sharp jerk against and beneath her as she draws dark, sluggish, stagnant blood out of him.]
no subject
But no, she isn't the needy one, won't be. That's Foster. Foster is the desperate, dependent mess. She leans down over him, her face close to his with a pitying smirk that's only a little bit forced.]
How long's it been for you? Have you been going out of your mind without this, or did you miraculously find someone else willing to put up with your sorry ass?