⇨ THE REALM OF DREAMS

[ringleaders]

Who: EVERYONE!
When: S1:D8 - S1:D18
Where: Visiting the Realm of Dreams.
What: The carnival arrives at a new location and has its first performance week with the new cast, as outlined here. This is a general mingling log for convenience purposes, but players are welcome to make as many other logs for this purpose as desired.
Warnings: Could be a lot of things, around these parts.

THE REALM OF DREAMS↴ As the carnival arrives at its first stop since its recruitment phase, and prepares to put its new band of workers to the test. In the meantime, there is a whole new world of dreams and nightmares to be explored, and threats to be faced on carnival turf. As of S1:D11, the carnival will be opening its doors to the creatures within, and the carnival will be open daily from noon to midnight, though the connection to the realm will be constant. This is an all purpose mingle log for the full duration of the stay, so please mark top levels with some estimate of what days they'll be occurring on. Please bring any mod questions to the original plotting post.

Comments

[meanlook]

[Indeed, the paranoia is as familiar as the colorful verbiage. While Silver certainly has his own fits of intense temper, most of the time he's settled into a routine of quiet indifference. It's also too early in the morning to get too worked up. Instead he just leans in and whispers two words.]

Bed sheets.

[faking]

[For the record, Alois has a very practiced and fantastic expression of disgust. Somehow it suits his fine features well, as though he is too delicate and wonderful to witness something so repulsive, whatever he's looking at. He makes that face often in the Carnival, and very often at Silver. He's starting to make it now, every part of his face working to produce that pure and profound portrayal of disgust, until...

Silver's whispered words totally take the wind out of Alois' sails. He doesn't stand a chance against whatever they mean—not that he's going to actually explain their effect on him—and he skitters backward a couple of steps, shoulders raising like a house cat's hackles. He's going red.]

It's like you're asking me to give in and lick you. You great dog worrier...

[Despite his talk (however much Silver understands; Alois is retreating into his native Victorian), he's uncomfortable to the point of losing his fight.]

[meanlook]

[The rake is hoisted back over one shoulder as Silver smirks in satisfaction. He may not totally understand the meaning of the old slang, but he certainly knows what Trancy acts like when he's been bested.]

My point is, sometimes you should listen to me. Well, in a perfect world you'd always listen to me, but I'm not about to expect a miracle.

[There's an unimpressed scoff to punctuate it.]

And I hope you don't just go around asking random people to lick you.

[faking]

[Now Alois is grimacing more properly, the humiliation of before ebbing into his usual irritation (although it hasn't entirely left, and now he is kind of wary).]

I meant I'd beat you, you great goon. [He huffs, short and slightly combative, but makes no effort to actually put up a fight, even verbally. Instead:] You should be grateful. It's probably easier for you, you know? What if it— You know. [His eyes shut for just a moment, and when he opens them again, they're cast off into another direction. His chin juts out, a sulk.] What if it gets bad at night, or whatever.

[meanlook]

Easier for me? What does that even mean?

[His tail twitches impatiently, accompanied by the darting of his forked tongue as it tended to do when he got frustrated and didn't have as much control of it. It annoyed him how every time it did, as it caused an explosion of information about the environment he wasn't quite sure how to decipher yet.]

I'm there at night if you're where you're supposed to be.

[faking]

It means that— [Frustrated, and as impatient as Silver's tail, Alois huffs out an agitated breath, facing an arbitrary direction in order to minimize eye contact. He hugs himself a bit, shifting from foot to high heeled foot.] I mean that... if there's some sort of ridiculous dream, or something foul to feel, or whatever might happen in a creepy place like this. I wouldn't think you'd want to deal with that, and frankly I don't want to deal with it either. Best to avoid.

[meanlook]

I'm not afraid of anything like that.

[The answer isn't even a hesitation, a spark of audacious fervor in his eyes as he rocks on his heels to get a little more height than he currently has.]

If anything shows up, I'll take care of it. I'm kind of hungry for some action anyway.

[faking]

[Hungry for some action. Alois makes a face, incredulous and lacking faith, but it's only mild. Then he casts his eyes down toward his feet, and purses his lips while he breathes an angry breath.]

I mean, [he mutters,] what if I am to be carrying on in the night, what if there's a bad feeling which seizes me before morning, what if there's something fucked up and, and you know how I can be, if I'm loud or... That's... That's what I mean. I figured you'd prefer it, me bounding off, you should be happy with how gracious I am.

[Unspoken but obvious just from his posture: he will fly off the handle defensively if Silver tries to make fun of him.]

[meanlook]

You're right. [A nod.] I probably should be.

[Once upon a time, he would have been. He would have been grateful for the break on his ears and nose and other senses being assaulted. Especially as some became more sensitive. And yet...]

For whatever reason, I'm not. You're going to be home tonight, if I have to find you and strap you down to the bed.

[His eyes are piercing, and a low hiss starts to emanate from somewhere in his throat. The spade end of his tail is almost vibrating.]

[faking]

[Alois' eyebrows give a deep and immediate furrow, and while he doesn't raise his head, he does lift his eyes to glance at Silver, skeptical. Whatever he sees or perceives in the sharpness of eyes or the icky hiss—

He reddens quickly, and then even more quickly, he tries to cover it up with snotty anger.]

Hahaha! [he crows, forceful because he's intent on seeming pissed off.] I'd like to see you try!

[But that's his only protest, and he curls into himself with an awkward posture, instead of something aggressive.

...]

Anyway, I've run round this place a thousand times by now, the scenery has gotten boring. Not that the trailer is much better, but at least it isn't chilly in there, when the sun is down. It wouldn't be so bad to read a book or something.

[meanlook]

[Slowly, Silver's posture starts to relax, his tail going limp and his attempts to seem larger than he is ceasing. Alois's words earn a sharp nod.]

You'll thank me when you feel your head hit the pillow. Really, does she even understand how humans work at all? Che.

[faking]

I'm sure she doesn't. Not even humans understand how humans work. [He's sullen but mostly he's awkward, not quite sure how to posture himself in this moment, fingers curling and uncurling. Should he uncross his arms? Should he put his hands on his hips? Nothing sounds right.

Eventually he settles on interlocking his fingers down in front of his lap, and twisting them anxiously.]

Anyway, I didn't say I'd sleep. [Yeah, not sleeping ever is impossible, but he's been getting by with just fitful naps here and there.] But I'll stay inside, at least.

[meanlook]

Didn't say you had to sleep. Just said your head would hit the pillow.

[That all sorted, he waves away Alois's first statement dismissively.]

And psh, humans are easy. Most of them want the same things.

[faking]

[Alois is equally dismissive; whatever, the pillow won't make him sleep, Silver is dumb. Just these petty thoughts. But then his glance turns wry, and he doesn't quite sneer, but he might start doing it. (Sometimes he just can't help himself.)]

Oh, and I suppose you know what humans want?

[meanlook]

Power.

[It's stated cockily, and with more than a grain of 'duh'.]

[faking]

[Alois is as bad as ever at hiding his expressions, so for a moment, a queer look crosses his face. It's not easy to identify: it's not disgust—not even distaste—and it's not even disagreeable, really. Hard to parse, but it flickers away while he lowers his eyes, any extra energy receding from his features. He lets out a breath.

When he looks back up, he's halfway smirking, blasé like they're frivolously discussing a total non-issue.]

Well, at least you aren't that naïve. Only mostly.

[meanlook]

[What he gets in return is an unimpressed headshake and a exhausted sigh.]

You're not as adult as you think you are.

[faking]

[Meanwhile, Alois is working very hard on not being exhausted.]

What makes me not an adult?

[meanlook]

You act pretty childish most of the time.

[No sugarcoating for you, buddy.]

Like, having huge baby tantrums over stupid stuff.

[faking]

What's stupid to you might be important to me. I think it's quite juvenile of you, not knowing that.

[He might be playing; there's a little levity to him. But he might be serious, too, because he's haughty as ever.]

[meanlook]

... and you're extra cranky because you're not getting your naps in.

[Silver may or may not have enough maturity of his own to not screw up his own earlier small victory.]