lostcarnival | HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

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HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

Who: The people who escaped!
When: Very early Day 66 to Day 67
Where: The Carnival
What: The Ringmaster brings everyone she can back to the carnival after getting kicked out the Celebration, a bit worse for wear. Those that have resolved their threads at the Masquerade can start trickling over here as they sort things out.
Warnings: Angst, mostly likely, as well as potentially graphic injuries.

RETURNING HOME↴

About 45 minutes after the conflict with the vampires begins, the Ringmaster will finally show her face at the Masquerade - and immediately be mortified by what she sees. Though initially mostly confused by the fact that there's been problems over the week, and characteristically obtuse about what's going on, as soon as she realizes the severity of the threat she will launch into action. If the Host managed to miss the combat already going on, they won't be able to miss the Ringmaster tearing up the joint and looking for her people. She's quick to scoop up those that have managed to gather in the dining hall - but unfortunately her arrival seems to be the vampire's cue to retreat.

Her attempt to challenge the Host about this will result in the being finally losing their patience and banishing all the vampires and all of the carnival workers from the premises, forcing them back to the portals they arrived from and launching their remaining belongings out with them. The Ringmaster will be pretty fucking pissed off when they return (once again) and will tell everyone to take the time they need to recover, but to stick together and stay safe for the time being. She has a plan to chase down the carnival members that have been stolen, but it will take time.

► BEER PONG: Apparently the Ringmaster spent the entire week playing a nonstop game of beer pong, against several dozen of the Host's bodies. She hadn't quite won yet when the Masquerade began, so she was late. Whether or not she was caught up in the same spell as everyone else is up to interpretation, but the answer "definitely probably." She won, for the record.

► MISSING: Upon doing headcounts, it will turn out that all the supervisors are missing, as well as several regular workers - a few of which will have been spotted as freshly turned vampires during the fighting. Whether that was the point of the attack or not is unclear, but it's pretty clear that the Ringmaster is a little bit devastated about it - particularly about the supervisors. However, she will refuse to talk to anyone long enough to get into too many details.

► THE PLAN: The Ringmaster will announce that she intends to get everyone back - it's just a matter of figuring out their way back to the dimension they've been stolen off to. She guarantees that she will find it, but that it may take some time. In the end, the workers will have a total of two days to recover and plan - during the evening of Day 67, she will be leading a rescue mission to get them all back. You don't have to come, but lives do depend on its success.

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Very interesting. Someone that was familiar with combat, and knew how to protect themselves. The forest scent was...odd, the ozone scent even more so. He couldn't place what could possibly make an ozone scent.

"Came back?"

His eyes widened slightly. He couldn't imagine why anyone would voluntarily return, unless they had more deals to make. He himself had only accidentally been made part of the Carnival, it was his mistake that led to debt. However, he was interested in staying longer, he had deals to make, himself.

"I've not been here that long," it felt like forever, though. And he'd been sent back home for about a year, so it felt even longer. Real-time though, maybe about two months?

"I'm Sherlock Holmes." Introductions were in order, it seemed appropriate a time as any.

She inclined her head at the question, like yes, obviously. Scout found the Carnival restful, if often irritating. It had been a place where she'd had to maintain her own regimen; life in the Temple had had its similarities to boot camp and so having hours and hours of time to herself almost every day had been very strange.

The past year and a half had seen a lot more having to fill time herself, and a lot more uncontrolled violence. Better here than Mandalore.

"Good to meet you. My friends call me Scout."

"What do you do here?"

He had an idea, but it could only be confirmed by actually, you know, asking. His deductions were pretty much garbage right now anyway, he could hardly trust himself or his senses after what he'd just been through. Plus all those vampire bites, who knew if they left side effects.

His cold, reptilian eyes continued to gather clues and file them away, as he did with pretty much everyone he came across, especially in this Carnival.

Edited 2017-03-07 22:27 (UTC)

"Anything I can! I used to wrestle now and then, or perform. Mostly I work repairs. Sometimes I get to live up to my name." Though she remembers some likely-looking sites the carnival hadn't gone to, and some times they'd gone to places she'd never seen before. It was enough to wonder if the Ringmaster didn't actually need scouts. That or she slotted things into a much longer timetable.

"So, your turn. What do you do?"

He filed the information in his mental database of People Who Work Here. The information could always come in handy someday. Plus she was clearly experienced with this Carnival.

"Me? I patrol."

He says it with a slight distaste, as if having to earn one's keep was beneath him somehow. Like having a job was just, ugh, tedious. But it was better than something as awful as performing or making clothes or something. And it held the promise of excitement and danger. He figured it was somewhat within his purview, being a consulting detective and all, but it made him feel more like a beat cop or a security guard.

"Where I'm from, however, I'm a consulting detective."

She smiles lopsidedly, restraining herself from a chipper Poor you! Having to work for money had been a new concept to Scout, too, once. Until she was fourteen she'd gone her life working for merit.

"That so? How'd you end up in a place like this?"

Ah. Well, he'd been tricked, basically, but he was too embarrassed to admit that. He was a genius, though he knew how his stupid moments could ruin his day. Or life.

"Extenuating circumstances," he said cryptically. "Either way, I'm in debt for a year. But I'll probably stay longer."

He had good reason to now, even if he didn't actually actively like this place. He had people to protect back home, and if he could get a deal to go back to a point where he could save someone...well, he'd do it. He'd do anything.

Well, she's pretty sure he got landed with a contract to make up for 'damages'. The Ringmaster's insistence on those for often ridiculously minor offenses has never sat right with Scout, who when interacting with guests tends to hint at the rules they might break otherwise. Probably just as well that she's not around them often.

"It's definitely an eye-opening place. I'm honestly surprised there isn't a motto or something about that!" Scout? Sarcastic in her cheer? Impossible!

Sherlock rolls his eyes in return, but it's more a move of solidarity with her words than outright mocking them.

"How about you? Are you staying here longer?"

It wasn't as if he particularly cared one way or another, but information was good to have, especially around these parts.

She smiles more broadly for a second, then at his questions her face closes. It's something of a transformation; Scout wears her heart on her sleeve so freely that when she hides emotion it's with almost a mask.

"Maybe. I can't deny that it could be useful. There are things here I couldn't get anywhere else."

"That's true," Sherlock said, with a shrug, but here was something pained in his eyes.

He seems to register what's happening with her, but as there's no context or other data, he can do little with it, except note it in the files in his mind.

"There are things I can get here...that would be impossible elsewhere." His gaze was unfocused, clearly lost in memories. "Truly impossible."

Yup. Most people here have something big they'd like to change. Most people anywhere, honestly, even if "something big" is completely subjective. Scout had thought too small with her last contract, she sees that now. She'd wanted to make up for her shortcomings and get on a more equal footing with her peers, when she should have negotiated for something that could combat the Chosen One.

"Well, now that we've both alluded to mysterious backstories," she says in a chipper tone. "I can help clear toxins out of a body and numb pain; knowing that, anything I can do for you?"

There's a smirk at that. Mysterious backstories indeed.

"You can?"

There's a halt to his voice, he's still--and would continue to be entirely regretful of his massive bender he went on, which guaranteed a rather lousy upcoming week or so as his body withdrew from the plethora of substances he'd taken. Somethings he didn't even know what they were. Clearing toxins out wouldn't necessarily cure the withdrawal but it would help it along, and pain management was quite welcome without drugs. His ribs were still aching, despite Steven's healing, plus he had been thrown into a wall, punched, and so forth. And he had a great headache.

"If you can, that would be quite helpful. And welcome."

"Sure can! Not a healer, but I can help." She smooths her hair back behind her ear and smiles. "Basically I can block the signals nerves send and kind of encourage your liver and kidneys, if you have something like those." Most people here are human or have similar enough organ systems and structures to work with. It's worth asking though.

"And you'll need to let me touch you." She's known healers who could work with little contact. For most though, skin to skin is the only way to go.

"That's...interesting and yes, that would--" his eyes widened when he realized that, yes, of course, why wouldn't she ask if he had a liver and kidneys, because he didn't look remotely human anymore. For all she knew he could have always been an alien or a creature from another realm. The realization hit him hard though, it was one-half slightly amusing and one-half rather depressing.

"Yes, I think they're all still there," he said a bit wryly.

He offered a hand in response to her request. He had razor-sharp, two-inch long claws, and webbed fingers, the scales here were a similar shade to the green scales elsewhere on his face, but his palm had lighter, more tan scales.

"Let's see if this works, then."

Edited 2017-03-24 22:45 (UTC)

"Good to know!" she chirps. He's struck by the question, but she feels no desire to probe into that, and reaches out without hesitation to grasp his wrist, her palm against the back of his thumb.

Scout's own hand is mostly human. Her short-trimmed fingernails are made of tarnished bronze, thick and sturdy. Tiny, soft, gleaming coppery scales, like those on her throat but smaller, dot the inside of her wrist and a little ways up her forearm.

It comes on quickly. Pain is a specific signal, and Scout can trace it and find somewhere to put a block. It'll dissolve, given a day or so. Of course the same nerves that communicate pain also communicate temperature, so there may be some tingling and heat and cold. This part's easier.

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HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

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