⇨ GAME START INTRO LOG!

[ringleaders]

Who: EVERYONE!
When: NOW!
Where: Around the carnival grounds, and in the Cookhouse.
What: Carnival worker orientation, Ringmaster style.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, maybe drugs. Other things?

BRAVE NEW WORLD↴ ► THE NEW: It doesn't matter when you entered the tent to discuss your new contract with the Ringmaster, you exit it beneath a blanket of stars. Pointedly alien stars at that - currently the carnival grounds are being treated to a show of shooting stars, and what appear to be unnaturally large and living green moons hanging just a bit too close. The carnival was bustling when you entered, but now it's in the latter stages of being shut down for the night. If you manage to find a clock, it states that it's around 8PM. Workers from during the day will be passing through the grounds, attending to various pieces of business. None of them will seem very surprised or concerned by the goings on, though some may be sympathetic enough to pause and answer your questions. If you put some effort into finding out how it became nighttime, you may discover that it's been anywhere from a few hours to 7 days since you originally signed your contract. Someone may explain to you that it was probably some kind of time bubble, meant to keep you out of the way until the Ringmaster had time to deal with you. Every few minutes another new person will pop out of the tent, looking just as confused and under the impression that they had only just finished discussing things with the Ringmaster. Weird. She passed you a note before you left. Opening it up, you'll see you've been assigned a trailer number, and been given the instructions to drop off any excess belongings and do what you can to get settled in. You have until exactly 9:36PM to do so, because that's when you'll be expected to attend what is listed only as "WORKER'S ORIENTATION". This is, perhaps, more abrupt than you were expecting - but what can you do? You're here for the long haul. ► THE OLD: If you've ever seen a mass recruitment before, then this is no surprise. People enter the tent when they're recruited, and then sometimes how up again days later when the Ringmaster is ready for them. She isn't a big fan of wasting her time on individual orientations when she's expecting a crowd. Maybe you're too jaded to all of this to care much, but you'll see the newbies wandering around, probably confused and maybe a bit lost. Maybe you're the kind whose is sympathetic enough to pause your role in clean up and give them some directions, and maybe a word of confidence. Maybe you'll just jeer at them, because you're some kind of asshole. Either way, you expect you'll have the chance to see them later tonight. Whether by world of mouth, radio, or written note, supervisors will be passing out the following message: all workers are to report to the Cookhouse at 9:36PM sharp for "orientation." If you are at all familiar with how things go around here, you probably have a good idea of what this implies. Mandatory Karaoke Night. MANDATORY KARAOKE NIGHT!!!↴ At 9:36PM, the main dining hall of the Cookhouse will be found heavily decorator with various coloured lights and at least one disco ball made of what is ostensibly high karat gems. There are a bunch of cushions and additional seating set up along with the usual tables, and at the head of the call there is a state set up - a karaoke stage. For veteran workers, this is no surprise. Karaoke nights are fairly frequent as activities go, even if they are not usually mandatory. Some of you probably have signature songs already prepared. The karaoke machine is set up with mostly karaoke tracks that would be popular in the 90's and 00's on the average modern earth, with a few that are more recent. It also has some other random stuff from other worlds that people rarely sing because they are confusing and in languages no one understands. Here is a big karaoke list for your inspiration! The more stereotypically karaoke the better. Beyond that, there is plenty of food and snacks that were prepared by the cooks earlier, as well as a bar set up for alcohol and other vices. The selection is, as most things in the carnival, eclectic. Music will be played in between if nobody is singing, and otherwise veterans are encouraged to bring along their own fun and show the newbies a good time. The Ringmaster does ask that vets attempt to be courteous to their new coworkers. It's just being a good host.

Comments

SANS | SUPERVISOR: THE WARDEN | OTA

[osteothropy]

► A HALF HOUR LATE
Sans shows up, a half hour late and already sort of drunk. He's wearing a brand new shirt. He's got his hood up today, and his tail out - it swooshes around behind him in a sort of uncoordinated manner, his huge and roughly digitigrade feet bare due to being unable to fit into most kind of shoes.

He immediately drops into the one of the beanbag chair things on the ground like he's already asleep, his arms and legs sort of spread out and a flask in his boney claws. He doesn't seem to care much about what newbies are and aren't here, and he doesn't really care about which newbies belong to his team now, either - he already knows what trailers they got and their names. He'll have plenty of time to socialize with them later.

If he can get away with it, he'll happily sleep through this whole event. With maybe a song or two in between, if the fates align.

If he had his way, he wouldn't even have to know half of these people's names.

► WITH DOGS
After Sans has been lounging for a while, casually teleporting food off of the tables and into his hands without having to stand up, three huge skeleton dogs will suddenly come barreling into the room and towards his position, more or less rolling straight over the tiny skeleton in their excitement. He gets knocked onto his back, but all he does is just press his hands to the bone of their skulls and push them back a little, snickering.

"Yeah, yeah, take it easy. Fetch."

He grabs an entire plate of small sandwiches in a gravity field and hurls it back towards the entrance. The tray clangs loudly and sandwiches fly everywhere. The dogs go after them like scooby snacks. Chairs get knocked over. Realistically, those guys will eat anything. Don't let them eat you.

Re: SANS | SUPERVISOR: THE WARDEN | OTA

[mylastchance]

He sees the bone dogs running and reacts instinctively. His staff is in his hand in a second, glowing a dim gold as he moves to attack the dogs as they approach him.

[osteothropy]

The staff will clip Times's skull, who will sag down and yipe in surprised, while their two siblings rear up in reponse. Roman stars growling immediately, advancing on the boy while light builds in their throats, readying themselves for an attack -

And then, before Lauren can swing again, suddenly there is a skeletal hand on his staff and pushing it away. Sans eyes meet his, up from beneath his hood, the lights in his sockets flaring with blue.

"Cool it, kid."

[mylastchance]

The sudden appearance startles him for a second, but teleportation isn't a foreign concept to him. He doesn't move to attack again, but he doesn't drop his defensive posture either. This skeleton had power, clearly, but it was obvious Lauren was not afraid, in fact, he looked angry.

"Why should I?" he spits out, looking at Sans with contempt.

[osteothropy]

Times hunkers down and begins actively whimpering, apparently desiring some attention. New is still just glaring at the human, while Roman's growls slowly fade to something less audible.

Sans ignores them for the moment, his eyes still locked with Lauren's. His hand stays firmly gripped on Lauren's staff. He can see that contempt, and it cuts.

"Because you won't be the one that walks out of here in one piece if you don't."

dogsong

[dragonsattendant]

What's the deeeeeal, man?

Medli literally just walked in when a sandwich whaps her in the face, and before she has time to ask what that was about, when the bread falls off she sees what appear to be Staldogs heading right for her.

So naturally, she shrieks, her wings come out, and she flies as far up as the ceiling will allow her too.

"S-s-someone help!!"

[osteothropy]

Roman (one of the dogs) leaps for the sandwich just as Medli flies into the air and devours it midair. Times (another dog) simultaneously tries to do the same thing, and thus misses and goes skidding and rolling across the floor.

New (the last dog) becomes more interested in Medli, and rears back to let out a soft dog shriek (?) for attention. It's not much like a real dog, but it sort of is.

Then Roman doubles back and jumps on them, and the two start rolling around.

"Hey," Sans says to Medli, suddenly sitting on one of the rafters near her.

[dragonsattendant]

Well, it's all still pretty alarming when there are no living examples of dogs where you come from...

Speaking of alarming, Medli almost falls out of the air when Sans speaks. She squeaks again, and flies over to the rafter adjacent to them, with a pole between them. For safety, of course.

"When did... n-never mind that! What are those?!"

Then she dramatically points to Sans' feet, proclaiming "WHAT ARE THOOOOOOOOOOOSE"

[osteothropy]

Sans grins a little more deeply because, let's be real, that's pretty damn funny. The dogs have apparently mostly forgotten about her now, playfully causing a ruckus down at the foot of the support beam.

"Never seen a dog before, kid?" he asks, raising a brow.

With Dogs

[swordfishtrombones]

Gyahhh!

[High pitched screaming filled the air as Brook found himself pelted first by sandwiches, then assaulted by dogs trying to devour them. Excited by his shrieking and flailing, one started gnawing on Brook's skull. Another grabbed his tibia and started shaking it back and forth.]

SKELETON DOGS! THEY'RE NOTHING BUT BONES!

[osteothropy]

[They're not really attacking to injure, at least. Sans still isn't sure exactly how training them is best done, but they usually just try to pin someone until he gets there unless there's a lethal threat.

Or maybe this is just how they react to other skeletons? He's not actually sure.

Anyway, Sans appears in the seat next to Brook, patting on New's head to get them to let go of Brook's tibia. He grins at Brook placatingly. (Placating, in this case, meaning a wide grin of teeth that is very similar to his resting face. It's sort of eerie.]

Yeah. Join the club, huh?

[swordfishtrombones]

[For some reason, San's intervention didn't seem to comfort Brook. Instead, he let out another ear-piercing scream.]

KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Now it's a skeleton!

[osteothropy]

[...Oh. Huh. For a moment, Sans is actually speechless. He gives Brook the ones over, as his dogs stand back and tilt their heads in confusion. Is this a joke on a level he can't understand? Amazing.]

...The name's Sans.

[He slowly offers a hand to shake.]

You new, or what?

dogs

[drrdrrdrr]

Amethyst stops one of the dogs with a big paw-hand on the snooter so she can catch the sandwich it was after.

"Nuh-uh, that's mine now."

There's just something more appealing about sandwiches that are moving, you know?

[osteothropy]

Roman whimpers in disappointment, looking at Amethyst like she just kicked them. They crumple down onto her lap, looking super pathetic in order to gain the most sympathy in a short amount of time.

New, however, leans straight into her hair and growls in a way she probably knows is meaningless. How could you do this to us, Amethyst? Unfair.

[drrdrrdrr]

She sticks the tongue on her stomach out at Roman, because their head in her lap puts them on level with it, and crams the sandwich in the mouth on her face.

"Too bad, it's gone." She shoves New loosely away from her head. "C'mon, go get the other ones or I will."

[osteothropy]

New leaves as soon as Amethyst shoves them away, apparently losing interest now that the sandwich is gone. There are greener sandwich pastures to be had out there. Roman, however, stays where they are, nipping at her mouth tongue, before rolling around in a dog-like manner and dropping down onto the floor.

Roman rests their head on Amethyst lap, still whining. Sans appears next to her, another sandwich in hand, which he immediately drops into Roman's mouth. Roman eats it without even breathing (lol) and then pounces up on Sans affectionately.

"New's gunna get you one of these days, Ame," he comments, grinning.

Half-Hour Late!

[fastestdraw]

Punctuality!

That and walking the talk!

Two of a handful of things that Easel (hopefully) couldn't be fought on valuing.

Having just had a third shot of whiskey poured, it's not as if he's a hundred percent clean by the time Sans comes in, himself, say 'ey, on one front, he isn't going to judge.

But on the other?

He can't help but raise a (figurative) eyebrow as Sans heads for a chair.

He heads over, shot glass in hand, a few sparks kicking up under his hooves and disappearing in midair.

"Wouldn't have thought I'd a' had to lasso you, Sheriff!"

Or would he have? That question and any answers to it are moot. He is mostly saying this as a joke, in and of itself as a statement. Hopefully that's in his tone.

[osteothropy]

"Heh. It's like you don't know me at all," he says, leaning back on crossed arms and looking pretty damn pleased with himself. There is something sort of familiar about this, and he's not sure if its comforting or the opposite. Despite being most familiar with skeleton monsters, he's only ever actually seen ones that were a member of his family.

[fastestdraw]

It manages to be both at once, honestly - on one hand, ha, it does serve Easel right for having said that, and on the other, he might've liked to think a little more'd change in light of rank and situations than, well... just that.

Still, not for him to to make any judgements along those lines. Not out loud, anyway.

He downs his glass, and, holding it out to his side to vaguely indicate the rest of the room, asks.

"Gonna go have myself another - you want me to fetch ya anything?"

And then he points, with the same arm, to Sans's flask.

"Or you reckon you're all set for the time being?"

No joking or insinuation there - he's just casually asking that part in earnest.

[osteothropy]

He grins.

"It's empty." He tosses the flask and floats it over to Easel, not needing any more of an invitation than that. "Hit me up with whatever you got. Not feeling picky."

Then, his folds his arms behind his head again and closes his eyes. He appreciates Easel keeping his judgement to himself, at the very least. He doesn't care what people think of him.

dogsong intensifies

[fourthscribe]

Things Tanyuu should probably be used to by now: large skeleton dogs running rampant and trampling all over her tail.

Things she is not used to: THAT.

"Ow ow OW!"

The whole of Tanyuu's tail crumples up into a startled lump, and her forward bit wobbles before falling back onto herself in a bit of a panic. And unfortunately for her, a good chunk of those sandwiches are still hidden underneath the mess of naga, and the pack can almost certainly still smell them. It's a good thing she knows these dogs well enough, or she might be terrified.

"SANS! Would you please remind your dogs that I am not food!"

[osteothropy]

The dogs look dangerously close to trying to explore her coils for sandwiches, but thankfully Sans is relatively quick to intervene. It's the bonus she gets for being his friend. Special privileges.

Sans appears from nowhere at the sound of her call, patting the two dogs nearest to him on the heads.

"Heh. Slow down, buds. You gotta ask nicely before you check people out."

He looks up at her and shrugs helplessly.

"Sorry. Sandwich trajectories are so unpredictable."

[fourthscribe]

Tanyuu grumbles a little bit and lifts herself back up to start untangling her tail, casting the squat skeleton a look somewhere between annoyed and amused.

"With as often as you play 'fetch' with them, I'd have hoped your aim would improve a little bit."

She's soon enough slithered her way off the sandwiches and around the small group, leaving the spot clear.

"There, now you can eat, you silly things!"

c'mon, you knew it was gonna be dogs

[intherigging]

[When Jacky sees the dogs go barreling past her, she drops to her knees, whistling sharply.]

Here, boys!

[When she eventually catches the attention of one of them, she lets herself be bowled over, laughing with delight.]

Oh, who's a good boy! Who's a good boy!

[She's not precisely ignoring Sans, but rather, she's giving her undivided attention to the pupper. And really, can you blame her?]