Ginko (
dontpokethat) wrote in
lostcarnival2017-04-22 05:58 pm
MUSHI DISASTER
Who: Anyone and everyone; it’s a mingle-style log!
What: A sudden spike in the mushi population brings some trouble to the carnival.
When: Around day 87-90
Where: All around the carnival
Warnings: Illness, potentially some minor body horror, and so on

[Following the recent disappearance of Ginko and Tanyuu’s mushi repellent, there will be a sudden increase in the number of mushi in the carnival this week.
This is a mingle-style log, so just post a toplevel, tag out, and have fun with mushi disasters! Event information and questions are here.]
What: A sudden spike in the mushi population brings some trouble to the carnival.
When: Around day 87-90
Where: All around the carnival
Warnings: Illness, potentially some minor body horror, and so on

[Following the recent disappearance of Ginko and Tanyuu’s mushi repellent, there will be a sudden increase in the number of mushi in the carnival this week.
This is a mingle-style log, so just post a toplevel, tag out, and have fun with mushi disasters! Event information and questions are here.]

Ginko | OTA; cw for mild plant-based body horror
[If Ginko sounded a little tense the previous day, he's far more so now - not to mention significantly more tired.]
Hey, just so you guys know, I've been seeing more and more mushi around the grounds since yesterday. If anyone sees anything strange or feels sick or like you're in pain, come to me or Tanyuu right away.
Around the grounds
[This is bad. It's really bad, and getting rapidly worse. There are more mushi on the grounds every day, and with no sign of the missing mushi tobacco, all Ginko can do is keep trying to chase them off as they show up.
Not too surprisingly, though, it didn't take too long for him to be infected himself. He remembers hearing about this type somewhere - a plant-like mushi that sinks its roots into the ground and feeds off the energy of the light vein.
Honestly, he'd be pretty excited to study these if they weren't growing on him. It hurts like hell, and it's exhausting, having his energy sapped like this all the time - though, he finds, it's not quite like when he was attacked by that vampire at the masquerade.
This whole kouki blood thing seems to present more problems all the time.
Of course, being infected isn't going to stop him from checking around to see how the other workers are doing - and trying to handle as many of the infestations around the grounds as he can.
So here's Ginko, tiny leaves sprouting from his skin, all over his face and neck, rushing around the carnival grounds. He searches each nook and cranny for infestation (or mysteriously vanished plants), occasionally swearing under his breath as he drives away another colony of un or crushes a kagebi. Every so often, he has to stop, leaning against whatever may be nearby as he catches his breath.
If he sees someone pass by, he'll stop and raise a hand to get their attention.] --Hey. You see anything odd? Just-- trying to make sure I've got everywhere covered here.
Wildcard
(( OOC: Ginko will basically just be all over the place, trying to fix everything at once, as he does; if you want to work out another prompt, hit me up on this account or on plurk at
WHEN STEVEN PUTS TWO AND TWO TOGETHER
It helps that several other people have come down with their own weird ailments. Steven feels stupid for not realizing the connection earlier. He guesses he was expecting the strange mushi Ginko had described to be more... obvious? More alien?
Anyway, he decides he has to go talk to Ginko or Tanyuu right away. He waits until that evening, packs a hat full of snow from Elsa's trailer, and shoves it on his head before running around to find the guy. When he finally spots Ginko he practically screams.
"GINKOOO I THINK A BUG GOT ME," he yells, unintelligibly, running towards him with his own miniature snow storm.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
no subject
A flat elephant shrimp leech thing has gotten in, a kind that would normally not care one way or another about people. Heading right for her it drifts along the ground and starts to flow over her heavy boot. Scout half kicks it, half tosses it with her foot and it goes end over end, then lands and starts making its slow way back towards her. She watches it glumly and speaks in a conversational tone. "Why am I popular now? It's kind of lost its charm."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
hi ginko
[So this is one way for them to meet again.]
[Pushing himself up, Joker realizes just who he's crashed next to and freezes for a second. The smile on his face is distinctly stiff and, honestly, a little embarrassed.]
Ah. Hey there, Ginko. [But before he can do much else, his eyes zero in on the plants curling up out of his neck and face.] ...Wait, what the hell?
[He knows he's been having problems with his wings- and he knows what it is, too, having dug through his feathers and seen all that strange rust at skin level- but that seems pretty lowkey compared to what's happening with Ginko.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
no subject
Even after Greg's realization, however, he feels the need to wait to go to Ginko until nightfall--the shades simply aren't strong enough to protect him from the sun anymore. Of course, that doesn't mean Greg abandons the sunglasses. By the second evening even moonlight is too painful to look at without protection.
He raps at Ginko's trailer door with urgent little knocks, praying he's not waking anyone up, and praying deeper that they aren't out working. He's not sure he can take the blazing starlight long enough to track them down.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
no subject
Wherever he is -- whatever he's doing -- as soon as Lambert spots Ginko, he doesn't waste any time in rushing up to him and trying to grab him by the wrist, already yelling, or trying to. It's hard to be effectively intimidating when you can't even make so much as a squeak, his mouth moving frantically as he gets increasingly red-faced. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
around the grounds
And so, once she finished as little work as she can get away with doing for the day, that's what she's on her way to do, when she's stopped by... a guy with leaves growing out of his face. Staring blankly, she looks a bit surprised by his question. Does he really want the honest answer to that?]
Uh, yeah. I'm seeing something pretty odd right about now.
[Sorry, Ginko. She isn't used to dealing with all these weirdos with fae changes, and those plant growths on top of everything else makes his appearance rate fairly high on the freak-o-meter.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Around the grounds!
So when Ginko says that, he does the hand gesture he's been getting used to, putting a hand to his mouth to signal that he can't talk. He would have told Ginko about the suspected mushi sooner, but, well...]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
OTA!
And then he finds himself losing the ability to make any sound at all.
a. Around the Carnival
Lambert can be readily found stomping around the Carnival like a personified thunderstorm, if a much more silent one. Sword strapped on his back, he can be found either poking at fire sources where mushi have sapped heat, or using flame and telekinetic spells to scatter them away from more well-trafficked areas of the Carnival. He's not very gentle about it, and though he doesn't make a sound, he's clearly pissed and mouthing curses as he goes. If you need someone to poke at the creatures for you, he might be able to help, if you dare talk to him...
The rest of the time, when there's not something immediately in the vicinity to deal with? He can be found sniffing the air around the trailers, seemingly fixated on locating something ... though there isn't an obvious indication of what that is.
b. Lakeshore
Lambert's tracked the scent of the herb to the lake, but that's about as far as his explorations get him. He has a much bigger problem to deal with -- namely, the cluster of mushi swirling around his Mudsdale like a miniature blizzard. Though he's thrown a blanket over Pig and keeps worriedly trying to brush the mushi away, they only keep coming back, and he fusses worriedly at her in the mud by the lakeshore.
The horse doesn't make a peep of protest until finally, in frustration, Lambert raises his hand and wiggles his fingers to generate the spell for a small puff of flame aimed at the mushi he's brushed off to the side. Without warning, the horse suddenly jerks away and rears, sending Lambert stumbling back to splash into the water.
c. Wildcard
Prompt your own scenario!
a!
Compared to his normal standards, Strange is a bit underdressed, what with him only wearing a long-sleeved white button-up shirt, his trousers, and a pair of shoes that he didn't even take off before falling asleep. His hair is even more wild than usual, thanks to a slight case of bedhead. As the thing that follows Strange is fully dressed with slightly tamed hair, it looks more like Strange than Strange does. Of course, for the thing following Strange to truly look like him, one must ignore the fact that it's still a reflection. It isn't solid in the slightest, shimmery and slightly transparent in some areas.
"You know, I thought this whole 'Wolf School' thing was simply a theme," he teases, as he walks over towards Lambert. "Don't tell me you can—" pause for a yawn. "Don't tell me you can actually sniff out things like a dog does?"
let me know ... if this works ...
works for me!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
b
He almost just keeps going, that's how irritated he is in general, but—
"What are you up to now?"
Yeah, he did change direction, after all, taking himself over to stand by the Mudsdale and look down at the witcher. No offers to help him up, seeing how his hands actually are occupied right now.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Tamaki | ota!
It was definitely pretty weird (Tamaki had never heard a shoe sing before), so out of curiosity, he picked it up and looked inside. When he couldn't see anything, he held it to his ear; maybe the singing wasn't really coming from the shoe?
The singing does seem to come from the shoe, but he still can't find the source of the problem. Chalking it up to a weird fae thing, he forgets about it for a bit.
He's more or less forgotten it by the time he realizes he can't speak.
A: Side Tent
For a while, Tamaki can be found in one of the side tents, watching himself in a mirror as he tries to speak. At first he thought maybe he just went deaf, but an experimental hit on the side of one of the tent poles confirms he can still hear the thud as his hand connects with wood. So it's not that he can't hear, it's really that he can't talk.
The more he tries, the more he realizes it doesn't even feel like he can remember how to speak. His mouth opens, and no sound comes out. He tries to mouth something, but he can't remember the right mouth shapes.
A teenager soundlessly screaming at himself in a mirror is probably a strange sight, but it's about all Tamaki can do at the moment. He's not sure if he's just going crazy.
B: Cookhouse
Later on, Tamaki is in the cookhouse. He seems pretty sullen, and not as interested in food as usual (still with quite a bit piled on his plate, though). He takes bites without making a peep, staring off into the distance.
If someone speaks to him, he tries to answer, before growing visibly frustrated when he can't. In fact, he's so frustrated that he suddenly turns and hurls his fork out of his hand and against the table, watching as it bounces off and goes flying off the other side to clatter into the floor.
He seems immediately embarrassed that he did that, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with a grimace.
cookhouse!
Instead, after that little outburst, Lambert picks up his tray and brings it over to where Tamaki's sitting, plopping down next to him with a clatter of plates and utensils. The witcher waits until he has Tamaki's attention -- taps him on the shoulder to get him to look up, if he has to -- before he touches a hand to his throat and cocks his head in inquiry, mouthing equally soundless words (and to be sure, he's not even sure he's shaping his mouth correctly around what he wants to say).
Nonetheless, the meaning is clear enough. You too?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Cookhouse
"Rough day?" Joker asks sympathetically. He heard what happened with Ginko on the radio, so he can probably guess what's up with Tamaki. Honestly, he knows it's a bit awkward considering their last encounter outside of practices, but.... Well. He can't keep running away from his own workers.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Side Tent
He perks up when he sees Tamaki though.]
Hey, T--uh... are you all right?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Rita | OTA! / will match format
With her lack of spiritual sense, she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, and doesn't notice when one mushi, a tamashi-ka, slips under the collar of her shirt and latches itself onto her upper back.]
(around the carnival: sightings)
[Rita's not used to being sick, but when she starts feeling weak and feverish, she assumes it's because of the large number of people (and people-like things) in the carnival. She probably caught something from one of them.
However, the tamashi-ka has another effect on her, and she soon finds herself noticing the strange spirit-like creatures in unexpected places all around the carnival.
She may be backstage, working on setting up the lighting when she sees something slithering around the equipment. Or perhaps she's just walking around the carnival grounds, or hanging out near the trailers when she notices them floating in the air. Wherever she is, she'll suddenly flinch, staring wide-eyed at the creatures (or just an empty space, to those who can't see them.)]
--Gah! What the hell is that!?
[She points wildly at the mushi. If she sees one attached to your character, she might even be freaking out and pointing at them instead.]
(cookhouse - employee area: soup, meet face)
[After a couple days, Rita's fatigue is even more pronounced. She's pale and looks as if she hasn't been getting enough sleep, despite taking extra-long naps during the day to attempt to sleep off her "flu". However, she manages to drag herself to the eating area to try and get some kind of nutrition in her body.
She procures a bowl of minestrone soup with a glass of water, and sits in a far corner of the employee eating area, trying to keep enough distance so as not to make anyone else sick. She props a book up with a creative arrangement of condiment bottles so she can try to read while she eats, though she ends up staring at a single page for an extra-long time, spacing out.
After some time, she simply passes out, planting her face right into the soup bowl. There isn't enough soup left to be a drowning risk, but... she doesn't seem to be sitting back up.]
(wildcard!)
[Feel free to have your character encounter Rita around the carnival in some other context! She'll be spending most of her time resting or reading in her trailer, eating at the cookhouse, or working backstage. If you want to plot anything, you can PM me or hit me up at
cookhouse!
Strange hates it and has tried to set it on fire at least once. No dice.
What matters is that even though he kind of wants to fall asleep here and now, he knows he should actually get some food himself. Strange has a few hard-boiled eggs for his lunch, wrapped up in a napkin. So, as he sits down to look at Rita with her face right in the soup bowl, he can't help but frown. Huh. Her too? But she doesn't have this thing following her around, why is she so tired? Strange sighs before making half-hearted efforts to push Rita slightly, nudging her in the shoulder. He should be doing more. She's planted right in the soup bowl, for heaven's sake. But mostly, he just wants to fall asleep here and now on the dinner table himself. ]
Wake up.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
sightings! let me know if this works
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
sightings! backstage, to be precise
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
lmao oops.
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
wildcard!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
around the grounds, near the trailers!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Doll || OTA
[It's happening, it's finally happening!]
[So it wasn't wings like her brother, but it's fun anyway! Doll wakes up and goes through the motions of getting dressed and all that, but only when she's halfway to the cookhouse for breakfast does she wake up fully and realize what the extra movement around her is--]
[Little snowflakes. Her own personal flurries that she can't see on anybody else when she looks around. This is, of course, exciting. She waves her arms around, laughing as the snowflakes follow, does cartwheels and flips to create trails of the little snowflakes. Amazing! She can't wait to show her brothers that she's become a walking, miniature snow storm. She wonders, if she stands still long enough, would she get a whole drift around her...?]
[Day 88]
[The flurries seem to be getting a little thicker, somehow, and Doll just can't stop overheating. It's not the discomfort she used to feel during the summer either, where the heat was so thick and cloying that she could barely move without feeling sweat rolling down her back. No, it feels like she's being held too close to a fire and can't get away from it.]
[Blankets are out of the question, she can only stand in the shade, even standing too close to people is uncomfortable, she's stripped down to as little clothing as she can without being indecent and she still keeps feeling too hot to live. She sticks to resting in the shade of trees with iced water during the day, and at night the press of her trailer is still too much. She slips out and heads for the lake, thinking that maybe dunking herself in there at night will give her some relief.]
[Day 89]
[She's actively in pain. She's gone back to the lake and submerged herself, but the sun is still beating down on her head, making it feel like her hair is on fire. Maybe this is still a transformation-- Joker mentioned growing pains when his wings came in, maybe this is just the same.]
[Still, Doll is in such pain, and she doesn't want her brothers to see her breaking out into pained sweating and whining and whimpering, so she's still in the lake, trying to ride it out.]
((OOC: Also open to anything that fits into this loose timeline of what Doll gets up to! 83 If you'd like to work something specific out, just hit me up at
3
She sees someone in the lake - not swimming or wallowing but trembling in obvious misery - and pauses at the edge.]
Hey. Are you hurt?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
88
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
day 87
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Steven Universe | OTA
Bud is actually the first one to notice that there's something wrong - usually the little fomatis likes riding around on Steven's back, or up on his head, when he's out and about in the carnival. Today, though, Steven is just going by the Cookhouse to get a drink (it feels really hot out today for some reason, and he just wants to dump the water all over his head) when Bud starts making whiny noises and swatting at something in the air.
Steven frowns, distracted between the way his scalp is sort of hurting and Fomantis's complaints - he can sort of get that Bud is uncomfortable because of temperature, so he assumes she's feeling the same way.
"Are you hot, too?" he asks. He lifts up his glass. "Here, let's just..." And he dumps the glass of ice over their mutual heads. That's felt good on his fur and roses before, so it feels natural to try it now. Of course, Bud disagrees.
She squeals and flops right off of back, before thrashing around on the floor in a panic. As she starts chirping out what can only be some kind of Pokemon profanity, Steven is filled with palpable relief - albeit, apologetic for apparently upsetting Bud so much. He gives her an apologetic look, and leans down to pick her up... which she promptly refuses, making a wild gesture at him with her claw.
"Huh? What's the..." He looks himself over, and sees specks of white settling on his dampened shoulders. Is it... snowing? "Oh..."
He looks around, but it isn't snowing anywhere else.
⇨ LATER, AROUND THE CARNIVAL
When the snow doesn't seem to stop, Steven's first assumption is that this is some new fae thing. Another change, like... a snow aura? It would make sense, he's seen all kinds of other elemental effects, but ice seems like a weird thing to add to plants. Will his moss and flowers be okay if this keeps up?
As it turns out, they won't. Early on, just being in the shade is good enough to feel about room temperature, but it seems to be getting more sensitive with time. After about a day, it's become too hot in the trailer just from the ambient sunlight and heat needed to keep their plants healthy. That, and while he doesn't feel the coldness of the snow, everything else seems to... he can feel the discomfort of the other plant life around him, and he really doesn't want to bother them.
Bud doesn't want to get too close to him either, but that doesn't stop her from following him around at a distance, chirruping and squeaking with increasing agitation. She's concerned, but too much cold hurts her. Just like it seems to gradually be hurting the moss and roses growing on him.
About the time that his flowers are dying and his moss is going brown, Steven has decided this officially sucks.
⇨ CLOSED TO ELSA, AT HER TRAILER
He's ended up with fewer and fewer places that he can chill out and be comfortable. Eventually, the need to be away from the heat leads him to the conspicuously ice covered trailer in the Supervisor Grove. He doesn't even know who lives there, but he's desperate.
He knocks on the door, as politely as he can. The urgency is clear in his voice, though.
"Excuse me? Does someone live here? Can I come in?"
no subject
The knock on her door startles her enough that she drops the rook she was just moving, glancing over. She hears a voice she doesn't recognize; must be someone new(ish).
"Coming!"
She hurries to the door (whoever is outside sounds rather anxious), and is surprised to see a young kid outside, who seems to be surrounded by lightly falling snow. A new fae change, maybe?
"Um, come in," she affirms, stepping back to allow him in. "Is something wrong?"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
Yuya Sakaki | OTA
[Going to the lake wasn't the best idea this time around. He was just looking for space to practice, and after Ginko's warning he didn't want to draw the attention of any of the Mushi floating around. He didn't account for any being in the Lake.
There's something shimmering and at first he thinks maybe it's a lost object, say a watch--or perhaps trash.
Until it rises up in some goopy, barely-together form. Yuya recoils quickly.] Augh!
[C - The Trailers]
[Of course, the Mizukagami hasn't left. Not in a few days, and while Yuya has tried his hardest to go along as normal despite it... it's gone from creepy to menacing. Maybe it's just the stress of being stalked by some weird mercury monster, but Yuya swears it's almost touched him a few times.
So this fine night when people are turning into their trailers, the Mizukagami is standing in front of one and looking... up?
Up at Yuya, who is sitting on top of the trailer and staring right back at him. Is that your space they're blocking?]
C!
Gongenzaka opens his door to squint, to say the least, and his snubbull really isn't sure about this herself. It looks...like...
...Ok no it looks like a weird blob is what it looks like. He gives a reactionary sniff of annoyance, only to catch a familiar whiff and turn his head upward.] Hmm??
Yuuya? [Okay that's...one slightly good thing about this.] ...Is this some sort of faulty 'spell'..? [Look he heard 'mushi infestation' and expected people acting weird, not people stalked by mecury.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
c!
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Sherlock | OTA (TW: Spider-related body horror, technical self-harm)
And yet, that still didn't prepare him for what was to happen next.
It started out as a pain in the neck, literally. He was walking, doing a cursory patrol near the trees with Toby (fairly pointless when there were no visitors but it was something to do with the dog, at least) when suddenly he felt something hard hit his neck, and then, just--pain. And--and lots of it!? It was awful, like something was digging into him.
"AGGHHHhhhhh--What--?!" He frantically tried to reach around his neck, but couldn't quite feel anything. In fact, now that he noticed, that terrible pain had ceased, fortunately. He tried reaching again but...he couldn't feel it. It slowly dawned on him that he couldn't quite feel anything. Not his hands, nor his feet, nor his long forked tongue, which was sticking out of his mouth stupidly because he simply didn't know it was there.
[A]
Sherlock stumbles clumsily into a more populated part of the Carnival, occasionally falling and very carefully picking himself up. He didn't realize how difficult it would be to walk without the sensation of touch, he had no sensation of his feet on the ground. He had to look down, to measure his strides. Toby was helping him, whining and crying worriedly, dashing between his legs and trying to guide him.
He'd given up on his tongue, which stuck out of the side of his mouth about a foot in length, like a ridiculous cartoon.
"I need help!" he said, slurring his words, fairly sure he was suffering from a serious medical condition.
And not the spider-like mushi clearly visible, burrowed halfway in the back of his neck.
[B]
Now that Sherlock knew what was wrong with him, and that there was absolutely nothing he could do until the mushi was sated and just fell off, he was currently doing experiments on his current condition.
In the cookhouse, away from prying eyes (though how soon his isolation was to remain, it was to be seen) he had a pot of hot water, a lighter, a bowl of ice, and a small knife.
It was obvious what he was trying to do.
First off, he plunged his hand in the ice water, fascinated that he couldn't feel a thing. He wondered what it would do to his reptile-like physiology, the longer he kept his clawed, webbed hand in there. After several minutes, he was starting to feel slightly sleepy, and his hand didn't quite respond to his commands. He pulled it from the ice bowl, it seemed a bit...frozen to the touch.
"Neat."
He placed his poor hand in between warm heated towels--unable to feel it, but he was certain it must be helping.
And now for the hot water...
... sherlock pls (B)
Yamato moves just in time to grab Sherlock's hand and stop him from dunking his hand into the hot water - it's hot enough that there's still steam rising from it.
"What are you doing?!"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
Greg Universe | OTA
Light sensitive headaches are a real pain, but not wholly unfamiliar; he hadn't been the healthiest guy around before joining the carnival. It's been a long time since it's bugged him like this, but he just pops on a pair of cool guy sunglasses and goes on with his day. A sweet pair of shades can disguise any amount of discomfort. So much that he doesn't even want to take them off indoors. Hey, he's gotta get work done somehow.
What makes it even harder, though, is the little pokemon that keeps scrabbling around underfoot. Lil is on edge, squeaking his growls at every noise and movement. He can't quite tell what it is he's seeing, but there's always something on the edge of his vision squirming around. It has worn on the chikorita's nerves like no other. He paces anxiously around Greg's feet wherever they go and chirps warnings at anyone who gets too close.
B - Big Top
Now that the carnival is between destinations, there's not as great a need to use the Big Top. Performances have ended and Rehearsals have not yet begun for the next set, but a few performers may be moved to continue practicing their routines. If they come into the big top, however, they'll find it a lot... dimmer than usual.
Greg's at the lighting controls, fiddling with knobs and wires and looking greatly perturbed. There's something wrong with the lights. It's gotta be something with the bulbs, or the wiring, or... it's just too bright, it's bright everywhere, his job is the lights and there's just too much of it.
big top
Grumbling as she walks, Rita makes her way to the control booth. She narrows her eyes at the weird-looking man inside, who appears to be the cause of her inconvenience.
"What are you doing? The lighting's a mess right now."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Big Top
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
YOU KNOW WHEN
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
renzo shima | ota
Shockingly enough, Shima is actually doing his job. The non-scouty one, anyway. That one had been hard to avoid. Patrol, on the other hand, was a lot easier to blow off or at least fake, riiiight up until all these mushi infestations. As far as he's concerned, they may as well be like lesser demon infestations and, as much as he would still just ignore it, they're kind of getting into everything. So, he's actually gone straight to using black hellfire to get rid of them. It's actually pretty damn effective on the more common or weaker ones, too.
That means it isn't too uncommon to stumble across Shima rooting out an infestation of Un, Shimi, or the smaller ones, stabbing his metal staff — one topped with a spear point made of black flames — and muttering a verse to cause the whole end of it to flare out, black fire snuffing out the glowing little creatures immediately.
Other times he might be swinging it through the air at one higher up or scaling tents or other buildings to get at hard to reach places, up in the cookhouse rafters or even after one particular infestation that's taken over a higher up gondola on the ferris wheel.
b. mountain climbing was a terrible idea [D89]
And it was going so well until he decided to go after the snowballs up on the mountainside. One wrong turn through a cloud of tear-shaped mushi hadn't had any obviously bad effects from the start, aside from a few tiny bruises around his knee. By the point it actually began hurting enough to make walking a problem, he was already in the middle of knocking the smaller rolling snowballs apart.
Now he's staked out on a rocky outcropping, avoiding the increasingly growing snowballs creeping around his perch, holding normal snow packed around his knee and trying to figure out an escape route. Those things are getting awfully big...
Seeing anyone else coming up the path earns his immediate attention, though, and he raises an arm to wave at them, yelling then pointing, "Hey! Hey, watch out!"
Because there is definitely going to be one massive ball of snow bearing down the mountain's slope at them!
A
At least until she emerges from the kitchen and looks up to see somebody climbing around in the rafters of the cookhouse. It's a good thing she wasn't carrying anything, otherwise she would have dropped it in shock.
"What on earth are you doing?" She calls up to Shima, hands on her hips. "Get down from there this instant!"
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
B
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
no subject
If you can see them, a swarm of inch-long softly glowing translucent creatures with wings have gathered around her, fluttering seraphically. It's kind of pretty until one wings closer, its cute head splits open, and it attaches to the skin of her cheek. Through its translucent body you can see a minute amount of blood flowing from its head and into its sluglike body. The others are also descending, aiming for her legs, face, arms, any exposed skin. She ignores this completely, or is not aware.
If you can't see mushi there are just tiny wounds opening up, just above the level of a bad pinprick. Either way, you should probably tell her.
[B] Someone must have told her. Scout can see some of the mushi, not all, but her Force senses let her know where they are. A wide array of species that usually ignore people and go after other small mushi, or scavenge, or just perceive the symbiotic life persisting in each of her cells as tasty are opportunistically pursuing her. None of the ones she's encountered so far are difficult to get around, but they are everywhere and they all want to take pieces out of her, and it's getting on her nerves.
You can see her walking up ahead, surrounded by motes and looking faintly annoyed. Her flaglike white-furred tail is moving steadily, before and behind her, at the height of her head and hands, batting them away, and she's dressed so that only said head and hands are exposed, despite the warm night. She may make eye contact, glance at the nearest mote, and roll her eyes expressively.
Closer up the motes look like tiny snail shells with soft translucent 'wings' and other confusing foldy bits coming out of the shells, bobbing and circling around her. When waved or struck away they waver right back up to her. All at once though they scatter, flying rather faster now.
Scout looks up. Whatever this mushi is you can't really see it from a distance, and from up close it's like there's a vaguely circular patch of sky above her with no stars. Only after a moment can texture be discerned in it, if you can see mushi, and an almost umbrellalike arrangement of spokes or struts or something of the sort. The bump on her forehead starts uncoiling into a lure. Slowly Scout draws her blaster pistol from its holster at her hip and aims it.
The blaster going off makes a sharp report and a red bolt which causes whatever-that-is to withdraw in a hurry. Impossible to tell if it was hurt. Scout stares after it, then holsters her blaster again and sighs. The flying snails are already starting back towards her. "I never realized there were so many downsides to popularity," she says.
B!
Lambert looks, entirely unsurprisingly, incredibly annoyed by this whole endeavor, but at least he hasn't succumbed to narcolepsy like so much of the Carnival seems to have -- nor acquired a sudden reflective doppelganger. He watches the snails lazily float back to Scout with a raised brow, lip still quirked in vague amusement, but he doesn't seem inclined to offer much else at the moment.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
Papyrus | OTA (will match format)
parenthoodbeing a pokemon trainer. Coolbone dislikes the pokeball, and has taken to using his bed, sleeping curled up on his pillow like a puppy. Coolbone sometimes wakes up crying, and occasionally yells through the day, upset about things in wordless ways. Given the rumor about cubones and where those skulls come from... well, it makes sense. No hard feelings.The best solution Papyrus has thought of is to hang out in bed while Coolbone sleeps, making sure the lonely pokemon doesn't wake up alone. There's radio chatter to eavesdrop on, books from Alola to read... Various ways of occupying himself. Too bad the pillow's full of mushi.]
► Boomeranging Memories (all around the carnival)
[Solidarity naps have done nothing for Coolbone's chill. The pokemon has been running all over, making messes, all day. Papyrus has some ability to see the mushi, and there's no apparent pattern to why Coolbone runs off.]
Oh my god, Coolbone! At least stick around to help me with the last mess.
[It doesn't even look like Coolbone's having fun making a ruckus, in which case, what's even the point?
Careful observation notes that Coolbone keeps looking surprised at things, running over to them, and poking and prodding at them like there's something wrong or unexpected. It's the inspection leading to messes, rather than messes for the sake of messes.]
► Luck of the Draw (mess hall)
[Never one for sleeping, Papyrus has nonetheless taken to napping a bit each night. He's noticed more dreams the last couple of days. And stranger than that, things he remembers from dreams have since really happened! If he's developing some kind of prophetic power, well, the best to start training it immediately!!
So why can't he predict these cards? He flips another out of the deck, scowling at it, as his lunch grows cold.]
You're supposed to be an ace of clubs.
[OOC: Interested in something bizarre or unlikely happening? Papyrus and Coolbone have been infected with imenonoawai, a mushi that makes their dreams happen for real. PM me or catch me on Plurk for brainstorming, or let me know what you'd like in an ooc note in your tag!]
Luck of the Draw
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
OTA!
Jimmy'd been heading in for breakfast prep, Pea trotting along behind to get her own breakfast and taste test Jimmy's latest batch of proper Pokemon food. That had been the plan, anyway. Before Pea heard the pathetic riiii from the smokehouse/bat roost and goes to investigate. "Hey, Pea. What'cha got?" and a whole lot of barking leads to Jimmy heading over to check.
"C'mon, Pea. I know you're resistant to fire and all, but..." He trails off as he notices that the smokehouse is cold. Opening the door carefully is almost a reflex at this point, given the fiery refugees that have moved in. Except now, the smokehouse is cool and the fiery little bats are almost extinguished, huddled up together and shivering. Attempting to round them up into a tray so he can get them someplace warmer ends with him getting swarmed as the bats look for a warm spot.
Which makes things all kinds of uncomfortable as the hellbats all have little needle claws and are not afraid of hanging onto Jimmy's shirt for dear life and letting the world know that they are cold! and that it really sucks! And on that pointy note, Jimmy starts making his way inside. Ideally to stuff the bats in the oven and warm them up.
B: Wildcard!
Jimmy and Pea are volunteering as trackers to help find the mushi tobacco, which means they will be anywhere.
A
It's then that she looks up and sees Jimmy draped in tiny fire bats. She opens her mouth as if to ask why, but she's rendered speechless.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)