⇨ 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

[osteothropy]

[Roman is all too eager to bump their skull into Papyrus's hands, enthusiastically greeting their new boney acquaintance. He seems familiar to them - maybe it's the scent, maybe it's the specific kind of magic. It resonates in a way they recognize, which instantly marks this skeleton as a friend.

For Roman, anyway. New hangs back, regarding the pair of them warily, as if reflecting their master's true trepidation. Sans's skull is swimming, hidden around the edge of the doorway, but he can sense the recognition in his pack's reactions.

He only wishes it was so easy to face this. There are times when being like them is so appealing.

New growls softly, but doesn't act on it. Roman response by dashing back and running a circle around their sibling, before returning to Papyrus excitedly and trying to hop up on him. They don't seem to talk, at the very least, if Papyrus is hoping for an answer. These guys aren't quite like the monsters from the underground, though everything about them is so similar.

Sans just barely manages to get himself to peek around the edge of the doorway, watching his brother from afar. He can't be from the timeline Sans left. He was... already long dead, in that one. He knows that timeline stuff gets confusing with the carnival, even more so when it's one that's constantly repeating.

Maybe Papyrus doesn't even know what he did. Though, somehow, that just makes it worse, because he knows he could never tell him.]

[spaghettimonster]

[He's not surprised enough by their wordless responses to take any offence by it. Some monsters back home aren't especially wordy, being more the strong silent type, or the animal noise type. Especially among dogs, what with his recurring thief, or the famous Greater Dog.]

Truly, you must be the most fortunate of dogs! Made of bones of your very own. You can chase your own tail and chew on it!

[Not exactly the kind of sentiment to endear himself to standoffish New or hidden Times, but Roman is as affectionate as Papyrus feels like being back. He pets with enthusiasm, even when jumped on. A petting far more full of rattling and clattering than most, but he just can't hide his cheer at this. A skeleton dog! Not biting in the least! And so, so happy to see him...!

There's little hints to what kind of timeline he's from, besides the whole not-dead thing.

Papyrus is in his old battle body, worn out from use long after those early repeating days. He leans forward a little more than he used to, a habit of compensating for the weight of the cape he's not wearing (the better for a king to remain incognito, masquerading as an ordinary carnival worker. That, and it was given as a price of entry from his guest experience before properly signing the contract)

But most of all, there's shadows under his eyesockets. Nowhere near as bad as Sans, of course.

...Though maybe that's just the strain of being here at all.]

[osteothropy]

[It's a sinking feeling that doesn't seem to stop, like he can just keep going down and down forever. There are so many potential positives to his - he can see his brother again, Papyrus can finally be away from that place, there's so many things he could show him! But by that same token, there's so much he doesn't think Papyrus could ever understand. Stuff that he shouldn't have to understand.

He'd wanted to keep that stuff squared away so that it wasn't Papyrus's business. Even if he knew it would all just happen again. He could have had that, maybe, when all of this was done.

If he ever went back, that is.

That's the part that makes him unable to take it anymore. Out in the room, playing with Papyrus, Roman suddenly pauses - a whine coming from them as they can sense the degree to which Sans doesn't have it together. There his pets, but their also his protectors. They're linked. So when Sans nearly goes down against the wall from the stress, bracing himself against the door frame, Roman stops playing and turns to scamper over to their master, whining with concern.

Leading Papyrus's sight directly towards him.]

[spaghettimonster]

[The game ends suddenly as the dog seems distracted, whining and running off again. But this time they don't just circle around their friend and come back; this time they keep whining, going to the edge of the room and standing over by...

A slumped skeleton in a doorway? A familiar-looking skeleton, at that.

Papyrus steps closer, squinting to make out if he really does recognize that person. His vision isn't the best, seeing things far away. He really should get glasses one of these days, but they're expensive and he doesn't need them for reading, and usually he can count on Sans to answer his questions anyway, so why bother?

But that strategy doesn't work if the person he's trying to recognize is Sans. Well, there's one easy way to find out.]

Sans? Is that you?

[osteothropy]

[When Sans looks up, the identity of the skeleton becomes all too clear, except for a million little differences not too dissimilar to Papyrus's own. Like the fact that his left eye is always blue, or the marking above his socket. Or how he stands up on animal like feet, balanced on his toes.

With him already struggling to hold it together, Papyrus picking him out pushes him over the edge. He has no idea what to say. He has no idea what to do. All of his options to get around it have suddenly vanished, and instead of any calculating thoughts, all he finds himself filled with is visceral fear.

He vanishes. He hardly even thinks about it. Just one moment Papyrus is meeting eyes with him, and the shock goes through his system. The next, he's teleported, off somewhere closer to the treeline. He's taken the dogs with him, too.

What makes it worse is that, as soon as he's done it, he already knows it was the wrong thing to do. And this time, there's no second chances.]

[spaghettimonster]

[With no greeting, no distracted answer, just a silent staring, Papyrus wonders if it's just a crazy coincidence. Sometimes people look like other people. And in this place, with people from all kinds of places? That's probably going to happen a lot!

He's halfway to apologizing for the misunderstanding when the skeleton vanishes. And that banishes any uncertainty; nobody can just disappear like that, except Sans.]

Hey! I was talking to you!

[The doorway doesn't respond, and Papyrus scowls at it.

But thinking over the picture now in his memory... It was, but wasn't Sans. The way he stood, those glowing marks on bone... Did paperwork somehow mean something else, the way shortcut and vacation do? Then what were those things Papyrus signs from time to time...?

Something to ask his brother about, when he catches him. No way Sans won't be napping around somewhere in the next few days.]