lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 1st - 7th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: Memories begin returning to the displaced as the fall gets chillier. How the hell did we end up here, again? Also, apparently, the fair is in town.
Warnings: Individually marked!

PORTLAND BY NIGHT↴

Memory regains will come into effect at the beginning of October, to whatever degree you've decided upon, and may be regained at whatever pace you desire from then on. For those with their full carnival memories, it will be like waking up in the body of someone else - for those with half and half, it will be like rapidly recalling sets of memories from a totally different life. Those with full amnesia will simply feel as if this is how it's always been.

Unfortunately for you, memories aren't the only thing you have to deal with. The supernatural community of Portland is bustling all of a sudden - could your presence and these events somehow be related?

► THE OUTER CIRCLE: As of the start of the month, the Portland Circle of Enlightenment will find itself starting to get swarmed with members from other chapters. Most notably, it would seem that a small cabal of top mages from the North American Enlightenment Council will be making their home in Portland's HQ. For anyone but the highest of ranks, the purpose behind their visit will be unclear, but it seems like something is definitely up on a metaphysical level. The Circle will be buzzing with rumours of unique planar activity and threatening omens. It seems that it all started with an unusual flare of activity in the planetary ley-lines, starting approximately a week ago. However, even if you would usually be the type to keep tabs on such things, you will find that you oddly have no memory of observing this phenomenon yourself.

► THE ANIMAL FAIR: Good news, the fair is in town! Or, at least, it would be good news... if this was a regular fair. Instead, what's being observed is a bunch of nearly identical flyers, spread all around Portland - each of which bears only the words "THE ANIMAL FAIR", a seemingly bloody paw-print of unknown origin, and the directions to a vague forested location outside of the city. It's dated for October 7th, and all instances of its posting having been discovered with a scattering of rose petals, crow feathers, and pre-burnt matches laying on the ground around them. Most are taking this to be some kind of bizarre viral marketing campaign, but others may know better.

► THE EARTH SPIRIT: If you have connections to The Pack or any of its many variations, you'll probably hear whispers of something very odd that occurred last week - according to the elders, it sounds as if the Earth Spirit, the magical and spiritual center of the planet, has suddenly taken a wound. It's not clear why or how, but there is a fair bit of concern among spiritual types, as it is werebeast belief and nebulous magical fact that the magical forces within the earth are the source of all magic here, as well as the source of life. While many werebeasts claim to have felt the Spirit succumb, you strangely have no memory of such an event occurring. Though things do feel strange, if you know how to tap into the Spirit yourself.

► THE WAR CRY: Though Anath's rain of terror across North America lasted for the first fifteen years or so of the Severing, most independent demons have had enough time to start taking the arch-demon's relative inactivity for granted. For that first while, the warrior queen had seemed determine to rebuild an army on earth by forcing her scattered brethren into service - only for her to gradually settle down in a fortress somewhere in Texas and dig in her heels. Of course, this was too good to last - it sounds as if she and her demonic legion have begun tearing their way up the west coast, their goals remaining a mystery. Their destination, however, is almost certainly Portland.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lambert will take the book, if only to save its spine from being potentially mangled and giving the title a quick skim before he looks back up. Whatever this buggy ... gremlin ... child creature is, it's obviously unstable.

"I'm sure you could write a letter to the authors." He congratulates himself, mentally, for how evenly that manages to come out under the circumstances. 'Mouthflaps,' seriously?

Inspiration strikes, after a moment, and he'll add, casually: "We do have a section for books we haven't put in circulation yet, but they're in another building. If you get down from the table and follow me, you might be able to find what you need there."

Is this thing as stupid as it looks? Time to find out!

Since the book is obviously an inferior one Zim won't fight with him about that, dropping his hands. Good riddance. The idea of mailing a letter seems like a terrible one though, not to mention primitive, so he just scoffs. He'd have a much better time hunting down the authors and forcing them to do a complete rewrite - which isn't a bad idea in his mind, so he makes a mental note to do that later.

Lambert's second idea is slightly less terrible, so he's actually pausing to consider it for several seconds before hopping onto the ground. "FINE!" He shouts, "Take me to the books, library drone!"

Lambert's been called a lot of things, but 'library drone' is a new one, even for him. His coworker shoots him a thumbs up from where she's at the counter as he leads the little gremlin-bug-thing towards one of the library's back exits -- one of the employee-ID-activated-onle ones -- but he'll refrain from celebrating just yet.

"So, you're into space?" From the way people aren't giving the kid too many weird looks, Lambert can figure this is one of those cases where he can see things no one else can, again. Feigning interest seems like a good way to distract him, at least.

Zim doesn't take notice of the exit they're heading towards, and if he did he certainly wouldn't care when Lambert is busy talking down (literally and metaphorically) to him. Nevermind the fact that he looks like a child, he deliberately ignores that huge detail in favour of being offended.

"'Into'? INTO?" He is so offended, for some reason. "Outer space is SO MUCH BETTER than this disgusting ball of DIRT!" He exclaims, looking disgusted at just having to describe the Earth.

Life was so much simpler before he moved to Portland. God. Lambert's hardly a naturally placating person, but he's dealt with Peridot's freak-outs before so it's easy enough not to react too much to the ranting and raving. Of course, the other people in the library are a little more concerned about the fuss, which is all the more reason to get him out of here ASAP. If he was an actual child, Lambert would be looking around for its parent or nearest equivalent thereof, but ...

"Well, it's the only ball of dirt we've got. And I like being able to do things that keep me alive... like breathing." When they reach the exit, he pushes the door open, gesturing Zim through into the sunlight.

"Pfft," is Zim's response. Humans and their gross needs are entirely overrated. In fact, it would be pretty great to blow everything up or enslave them all for the alien empire he is so absolutely sure he is from even though he's also pretty sure that he maybe has human and magical parents. Or something. His memories are still very confusing.

"This planet will be destroyed regardless. In, oh," he waves a hand as he steps outside. "About 5 billion years. Then the sun will consume it and I will laugh."

Lambert nods along, as thought everything out of Zim's mouth makes perfect sense to him.

"That's a pretty optimistic estimate of your life span," he observes, not bothering to dumb the words down -- it seems to have a pretty robust vocabulary, doesn't it? His expression brightens up with the first genuine (if nasty) grin he's had since he's had to deal with this brat yelling in the library.

"Well, good luck with that." Aaand he slams the door shut behind Zim before he can get another word in, the door locking shut automatically. He'll have to go all the way around the building if he wants to get inside again, and by then, there's a policeman on a bike scowling at the library entrance.

Of course it's optimistic, it's correct. Human lifespans are just... wrong. Short. Way too short.

"I'm right about it," he starts, but then the door is closing and it takes him a split second too long to realize it and then it's closed and what the, he's outside.

That guy just kicked him out.

Zim spins around, banging on the locked door. "Wwwaaait, hey! HEY! HEY!" That goes on for several minutes before he gets frustrated enough to give up and try the main entrance. So... he'll be arguing with the policeman outside for a while.

It's not something Lambert is proud of, but frankly, the kid had it coming. The policeman does listen patiently to Zim's arguments for a while, but eventually he's going to make noises about needing to contact Zim's parents, and where he lives...

Not that it's any of Lambert's concern. He goes about the rest of his day as normal, working through his shift at the cat cafe more or less on autopilot, until he's on his break, taking a smoke, that he notices the scuffling noise coming out of the dumpster in the alley behind the block of shops it's along. Glancing left and right, he steps towards the noise, eyes narrowed and cigarette still clenched between his lips.

The officer prying into his personal life is more than enough to get Zim to skedaddle. Unfortunately for Lambert, he isn't going far.

Fine, whatever. He can do without a trip to the library today. Instead he'll spend his oh-so valuable time looking around for any more useful scrap! Which is both good for world domination plans and keeps him productive! Nothing wrong with that.

Right as Lambert approaches the dumpster he's popping up, an old calculator in his weirdly fingered hands. He doesn't seem to notice him as he looks triumphant and talks to himself. "YES! Wait -" He squints, tapping at the buttons, quickly realizing it's a really shitty calculator, and proceeds to try and yank the back off. "This is horrible! Why would anyone even bother making such pathetically primitive technology??"

Oh, god. Not this brat again. Lambert considers turning around and just walking away at this point, except -- it's going through the garbage? What the hell?

He's not going to say anything at this point, just cross his arms, come to a stop beside the dumpster, and wait for Zim to figure out he's there. If he ever figures it out.

⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

football punts out the door

he has a very kickable head

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I DID NOT GET THIS NOTIF I'M SO SORRY

NO WORRIES

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CRIPES now it's my turn to be like 'wait i could have sworn i tagged this back'

no worries!

on to dumpster times!

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