⇨ HOME AGAIN

[ringleaders]

Who: Anyone!
When: Day 68 - Day 72
Where: Carnival grounds.
What: Everyone makes it back to the carnival after their adventure in hell. The Ringmaster makes a new lake to celebrate, apparently.
Warnings: A notable absence of torture.

TO HELL AND BACK↴ The rescuers and the liberated captives will emerge from the portal like bats out of hell. Much like their previous return, this arrival will be met with a flurry of medical activity as everyone gets their injuries seen to, particularly those that had been held prisoner within Morningstar's hell fortress. It will still be night when they arrive, and the rest of Day 68 will be clouded over completely, for the benefit of the new vampires as they get settled in. After the immediate panic is dealt with, the Ringmaster will disappear into the forest until the morning of Day 69. It will be raining off and on during her absence. ► RECOVERY: Unlike the last time, the Ringmaster will be supplying the carnival workers with some healing potions from her private hoard, given that most of the healers are already wounded or spent. Damage caused by iron poisoning will not be cured by healing magic or healing items though, unfortunately, and those who have spent a lot of time in contact with iron will take at least a week to fully recover. However, regular healing remedies like bandages and herbs may help speed things along if the patient is suited to them. ► A BRAND NEW LAKE: On the morning of Day 69, the Ringmaster will return the forest to announce that she's built a new lake into the carnival grounds, only a short trail's distance from the backyard. Unlike most of the forest, this area won't just lead you in circles when explored, meaning that it can actually be modified and developed as the workers see fit. The water is always clean and just the right temperature for swimming, though it gets a bit cooler the deeper you swim. At the far side of the lake, there is a warm, stone pathway leading up the side of the mountain, that will eventually take you to some bangin' hot springs. Brought to you mostly because the Ringmaster doesn't know how to say sorry with actual words. At least it gives you something to play with while you try to shake off the trauma. ► FRUITS OF VICTORY: On Day 70, all the workers who came to hell for the rescue mission will be given a gift from the Ringmaster. Each of them will receive a bright green, glowing seed, about the size of your thumbnail. She will tell you that, when planted, the seeds will swiftly grow into a small citrus tree, which will grow fruits with regenerative properties. More details about these plants will be written up in a separate post, but for now your characters can ogle them and decide if they are going to plant them or not. ► TAKE ME TO CHURCH: Staring on Day 71, the Ringmaster will be starting to work on removing the vampirism from those infected with it, which apparently involves a lot of... meditation? She will take the newbie vampires out into a shady area of the forest and encourage them to look inside themselves and attempt to separate themselves spiritually from their demonic beasts. How well you character masters her teachings over time will determine whether or not she is ultimately capable of stripping out your demon soul and returning you to life. Of course, not all demons are made equal, and some will be more difficult to separate than others...

Comments

[osteothropy]

Sans is quiet for a little while, not really looking at Psi either. At least Psi knows most of what went on in there. It's not like he has to explain. It comforting, in a way.

"Sure you know why," he says. He bundles up his arms around his hoodie, feeling particularly small. "Still doesn't feel like it's over."

[dorkypantsuit]

He nods, because honestly he knows exactly what Sans means.

"It feels like a dream." Being here does, he means. Nothing about being in hell had been dreamlike. That experience had been too painful not to feel real. He laughs, darkly, a cruel smile on his face.

"I keep thinking I'll wake up and be back there."

[osteothropy]

Sans can't claim to feel exactly the same way. Probably because... right before the end of it, he'd been perfectly happy with where he was, and that was the whole problem. His tail swishes with increasing anxiety, thinking about it. Every time he thinks about it, the thing that hurts him the most if when the vampire that had him died.

Every time he thinks about it, it digs at pride in a way he didn't even think was possible. He didn't think he even had pride about much, not anymore. It feels like a whole new low, and that in itself is terrifying.

"It... It got kind of complicated," he admits, hesitating. He hasn't told anybody about what actually happened. Of course he didn't.

[dorkypantsuit]

He knows the others all experienced something different from him. He hasn't been forcing anyone to talk, but Joker, Peridot, Zecora, and Koel, none of their punishments had been the same as Psi's or each others. The Psionic didn't have any reason to think Sans' experience would have been the same as his, which makes the skeleton's statement even more difficult to parse.

The Psionic wants to ask, and he doesn't. If Sans wanted to tell him, he'd gladly listen, but asking straight out just felt wrong. He thought he was more likely to scare Sans away doing that than he was to lend any actual help. Still, he doesn't want to seem disinterested either, because he is. Even if they aren't always on the best of terms he does care about Sans. He would like it if Sans could be happy.

He wishes life was easier here, like he thought it was going to be after his first year.

"Yeah?" In the end that's the only response he can think of to go with. Clearly inviting Sans to say as much or as little as he wanted, and for some reason he still doesn't turn to face Sans completely, because somehow the distance of not facing each other makes this whole experience easier to bear.

[osteothropy]

He doesn't really have any saliva to swallow, or a dry mouth to wet, but the odd discomfort in his body remains. Maybe his magic aura is off, he doesn't know - but the anxiety of this makes him feel like there is an itch he needs to scratch, and he doesn't know where it is.

"I guess that's what happens when you get captured by people with mind control powers," he says, at a delay. There. He said something. It's enough to get the point across, but non-specific enough to not actually touch on the details he can't bear to mention.

From what he understands, something similar happened with Psi. At least, the end part seems similar. He doesn't know how Psi got there either.

[dorkypantsuit]

He freezes. He wasn't moving in the first place, so it might not be noticeable, but he feels his heart skip a bit. The quiet that rings out after Sans words feels deafening. The ending had been the same, and it seemed, maybe so had the beginning.

"They said... they were going to fix me." he tries to laugh at the joke of the statement it is, but the statement makes his heart turn and the laugh dies in his throat.

[osteothropy]

Sans has his equivalent to that, something he could commiserate with. Yet, he doesn't. Too much all at once, maybe. It's too hard to explain anything he's thinking about without also explaining a bunch of other stuff he doesn't even want to touch on.

He's not surprised to think that they'd use the same tactics on most of them. Joker has just gotten turned, and the rest of them... the ones that weren't suitable got something else.

"It's a lot of psychobabble," he says, shuddering at the shoulders in a way that makes his bones clack. "They just said whatever was going to get to you."

[dorkypantsuit]

But they were right. He looks down at his hands, remembering everything they said and everything that had happened. They had made it so much easier for him to listen. Something he'd never quiet managed to do back home had suddenly seemed so easy. It still seemed easy, and part of him wasn't sure if that was right or wrong. This was how he was supposed to feel, but he wasn't a slave now, so why did everything they had said still feel so right?

"...I can't make myself believe it."

[osteothropy]

Sans exhales through his teeth, with a sound kind of like snort of humourless laughter. His tail wraps around his feet.

"Guess that's what happens when something gets to ya."

[dorkypantsuit]

The sound only makes him feel worse, his shoulders slumping.

"Have you managed to believe it?"

[osteothropy]

Sans pauses, and then shrugs. He shuffles his hands deeper into his hoodie, in a way that hugs his clothing close to his body defensively.

"It wasn't exactly like that," he says, slowly. "It's not hard to disbelieve 'em. Just... hate knowing I ever believe it in the first place."

[dorkypantsuit]

Without knowing the specifics he finds himself feeling almost jealous of Sans. He seemed much less confused about where he stood and what he'd felt than the Psionic did. Of course that didn't explain the way Sans had been hiding from everyone all week. The Psionic sighs, feeling confused and frustrated and wishing there was a quick solution to all their problems even though he knew intellectually there wasn't.

Maybe it would have been better for everyone if he hadn't been saved in the first place.

"How could you not have? They made everything seem convincing."

[osteothropy]

"Probably because it's easier to disbelieve nice things than it is to disbelieve shitty things," he says, more casually than seems emotionally honest. He takes this moment to take some of the cannabis he stole from Ginko and start toking up. He's been doing that a lot, the last couple days.

"When you're feelin' like this... easy to turn down anything that'd let you feel worth something."

[dorkypantsuit]

"So that makes it your fault?" he asks, voice sad and weary. He doesn't believe it for a second. All of them had been forced to believe things they didn't want to, not just Sans.

[osteothropy]

"Look," he says, not fully knowing what basis Psi is objecting to that on and wanting to cut it off at the pass. "They just lied to me about stuff that woulda been nice to believe, but I objectively know it wasn't true. I'd be an idiot if I kept believing it."

"I was an idiot for believing it at all."

[dorkypantsuit]

"That's what I'm saying." he starts, before finally turning to face the skeleton.

"There powers make you believe it. You can't think you should have been smart enough to know better, because being smarter wouldn't have helped."

[osteothropy]

Sans looks back a him, his eyes half lidded and skeptical. He finishes breathing in some smoke, and then lowers the blunt.

"Then why d'you believe them?" he asks.

[dorkypantsuit]

"Because I already knew what they said was true!" he shouts, unable to stop himself now that he's gotten worked up. His psionics don't usual spring up during such outbursts, he'd long be trained to control them especially when he was mad, but given how overwhelmed he's been these past few days it isn't surprising that a few red and blue sparks make themselves known in the dark.

"Out of all the yellow bloods on the planet I'm the only one that has a problem with killing people?! Does that make sense to you?"

[osteothropy]

"Does being the minority make you wrong?" he asks, still staring at him, unflinching at the flare up of psionics. He's not afraid of magical discharge. Monsters express their emotions that way, too. Sans has spent a lot of time muting this kind of thing from his self expression.

[dorkypantsuit]

It's not only the question that bothers him, but the way Sans phrases it. The way the skeleton doesn't react, the way he's always smiling, all of it plays a part in pushing Psi forward. He steps forward, stomping his foot on the ground as he does so.

"Yes!" What kind of question was that to even ask him? Wasn't it obvious. "What do you even know about it! You're not a troll."

[osteothropy]

"Oh." Now Sans looks down at his claws, distracted and pointedly not noticing Psi's violent posturing. Inwardly, he's increasingly annoyed that Psi would direct physical intimidation towards him at all, but his insult is manifesting by pushing him even further. "An' here I thought you were a guy that had pretty strong convictions against murderin' people. Guess I was wrong..."

[dorkypantsuit]

That stops him in his tracks. He suddenly thinks of what the Signless would think if he could see him right now. Would he be ashamed? Embarrassed? Angry? He tries to tell himself Sans doesn't know what he's talking about. He knows Sans doesn't know, there's no possible way he could, and yet he's right. The Psionic hated that aspect of troll culture and abhorred it's violence. And yet, there was still a not so small part of him that wished that things could be different, that he could be like everyone else and not find any problem in the slaughter of so many innocents for the pettiest of reasons.

He looks at his own hands, to the skin that still stung from the feeling of iron against it. Did he only want to believe troll-kind could be better because it meant he was less of a freak? Or did he really want to change things? Could his motivation really be reduced to something that selfish? He just didn't know anymore. All he knew was that he much preferred the apathetic numbness that had plagued him since his return to the feelings of regret and inner turmoil that roiled through him now.

"...We both were." he murmurs, finally, before taking a step back. He looks to Sans one last time, before turning and running away. He knows Sans can catch up with him if he wants, but he's hoping the skeleton has no desire to follow him right now as he doesn't have the desire to discover anymore of his own hidden personal flaws tonight.

[osteothropy]

Sans just stares at him as he runs away, not even really sure how to react to that. He doesn't know which 'we' is being talked about, and he's not sure it matters. Either way, he has zero desire to pursue.

"Okay bye," he mutters to himself, and returns his attention to smoking.