lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 2

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 7st - 14th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: The week begins as the time of the Animal Fair finally arrives! Meanwhile, the truth of this reality starts to be revealed, and forces both human and celestial alike attempt to take advantage of a rare opportunity.
Warnings: Individually marked!

BY ANY OTHER NAME↴

Tensions thicken as various supernaturally forces react to the events of the previous week. Something critical is afoot, and it's only a matter of time before things start coming to a head. It's time to find out more about what's happened to this world, and what will happen in its future.

► A NIGHT AT THE FAIR: From the night of the 7th to the morning of the 8th, the Animal Fair is officially in town. There is a top level down below with more information, though you can also RP content from this elsewhere if you wish. The host, who is very likely something called a Wyld Fae (if you discovered that ICly), will be present, but they will only be appearing to you of their own accord and attempting to track them down by force will be ineffective. Just kick back and relax! Fairs are supposed to be fun.

► THORNS IN YOUR SIDE: Culminating in a full fledged attack against the Sanctuary, it would seem that The Rose Queen is declaring war on the changeling population of Portland. Though the vicious attack of thorns against the safe house was eventually stopped, it wasn't without damage, and the black roses that caused it are still popping up around the city and threatening the places where homeless and lost changelings would be likely to congregate. It's obvious now that this is a serious threat - will it ever stop without an intervention?

► HELL ON EARTH: As Anath's march draws near, the first waves of her demons will be entering the city. Primarily acting as scouts and foot soldiers, these demons will be attempting to secure loyalty from the local demon populace, as well as taking out any angels they can manage to catch. It's a level of aggressiveness against heaven's forces that hasn't been seen for years, and it's a foreboding hint of things to come. These demons can be NPCed by anyone, and will mostly be thugs or manipulators who don't know much about Anath's plans but do know that you need to join their side. They are also rowdier than most of the demons in Portland, and are a threat to the innocent mortal populace as well, if they decide to try to get their kicks here.

► THE WIZARD POLICE: The Enlightenment Council seems to have demanded control of the local Circle chapter, and now backup has arrived. These mages are being sent out into the city as if they are a police force, and will be attempting to demand control of various common supernatural areas, as well as questioning community members that they run into. Whatever is going on, it seems to have resulted in the Council instituting what is essentially martial law... of course, not everyone sees any need to heed their demands. If you are a demon, warlock, or other rogue element, expect to be harassed or even attacked by them. These character can be NPCed, and if you need additional information you can ask the mods.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"EW," Peridot says too loudly from where she's hanging off of a nearby branch. Her own lips are pulled back from her fangs in disgust. "Are you blind or something? There's an entire roast over there if you need meat," she says, gesturing broadly towards it with one wing. "Cannibalism would be wholly unnecessary!"

Foster lifts his massive head, beady dark eyes searching Peridot out in the tree. It's not that hard. She's about the size of a basketball, it's not very subtle.

"So? Maybe I'm into that." He's joking, but it might be harder to tell without the human capacity for facial expression. "You're almost the right size for it." He tilts his head back as though to sniff the air, but he doesn't even go that far--he's just being a piece of shit.

"Swallow you whole. Are bats Kosher?"

Edited 2017-07-04 02:20 (UTC)

Joke or no joke, Peridot is taking no chances. There's a gasp, and then she abruptly stops hanging and scuttles up onto the branch, making an irascible hissing sound. "Go ahead! Try it, bear boy, as long as you feel like getting hexed that is!"

There is a lot of posturing going on here for such a tiny animal.

Foster can't relate.

Well, maybe he can. But he doesn't actually care enough to try.

He wheezes a sound kind of like a chuckle--he's dropped his jaw open in a toothy, silent approximation of a laugh, and makes his point by dropping heavily on the ground, apparently in physical defeat.

"I'm a vegetarian." He delivers it like the least climactic reveal possible. "So unless you can turn into a zucchini... ha ha. I guess if you do, hit me up."

That earns him another stare. The bat fidgets a little, flicking her ears and considering him carefully before responding.

“Alright, even if I did turn into a zucchini-- which I don’t even think is possible, for the record-- why on earth would I contact you just to get eaten? That doesn’t even make sense.”

Foster's silent, laughlike gesture turns into full, breathless laughter. To the point that for a few seconds, he can't even adequately reply--the best Peridot gets is a short but very genuine 'holy fuck' buried in there somewhere.

"I think you probably can turn someone into a zucchini," he informs her when he's totally done--or done enough to talk like someone who wasn't startled into enjoying himself for like four actual seconds of his life.

"I don't think you can use a phone like that though. Or walk. Or... talk. Or... haha, God. Fuck." This is terrible. This entire conversation is terrible. Obviously, he loves it. But, in all fairness to whatever redeeming qualities he has a person, there is this:

"I don't think I'd eat a zucchini with arms."

Peridot just kind of leans back a little, wrinkling her snout. What the hell is happening here? SHE WASN'T TRYING TO BE FUNNY? This is a very confusing conversation.

"Why would a zucchini have arms!? Or, better question: Why are ARMS the sole feature that would put you off of eating this hypothetical human-turned-vegetable monstrosity?"

She is like. GENUINELY stressed out trying to make sense of this.

"Are you saying you would?" Foster asks. To anyone else, the fact that he's just shittalking would be obvious, but it's not actually super clear if he realises she hasn't gotten that or not.

Of course, the actual question is whether or not he cares.

Answer: a resounding 'nope.'

"I mean, I probably wouldn't eat a zucchini with little legs, either. Or eyes. I might eat one with a mouth, though. Depending on whether it has teeth."

A good rule of thumb: if what you're eating still has teeth, stop. Stop eating it. Put it down. Don't eat it.

More generally, maybe: don't eat teeth.

Peridot just gapes at him. This conversation has officially sunk past the borders of the the realm of absurdity, well beyond the grasp of her understanding.

"...Okay, I haven't even the slightest idea of what you're talking about anymore, but, if there's one thing I DO know, it's that I'm never going to eat a zucchini ever again! So, thanks for that," she spits wryly.

"More for me," Foster replies in simplistic tone.

The laugh he got out of this is no compensation for how overall pissed he is about ~~the fae~~ his overall situation, but it does take the edge off of.

"But since you're not a zucchini--as far as I know--I'm definitely not interested in eating you." You know, in case that was still a concern. Or more frankly, as a way to bring this conversation back to its start.

Peridot's status as inedible object: confirmed.

"Duly noted," says Peridot rather dryly. "There's probably some zucchini on the stupid table over there, if you're craving it that badly. Unless you're trying to avoid eating faerie food, which is something that I would not blame you in the slightest for."

"Have you ever eaten a raw zucchini?" Foster asks rhetorically. Because he has, and it's pretty disgusting. But his lackadaisical persona sheds in favour of a sudden, uncomfortable intensity.

He looks away from Peridot, turning his nose and heavy muzzle back to the fruit table, dark little eyes fixing on an entire watermelon. It was cut diagonally for some atrocious reason.

"I'd say I'm not that stupid, but I just might be." His massive shoulders hunch--he wants to shove his face in that tragic misarray of ripe fruit, but personal experience and common sense (or what passes for it around here) still holds him back.

"They want us to eat the fruit. I want to know why."

She follows his gaze, also frowning. Right. The dreaded "buffet" table...

"Nyeehhh, I have absolutely no clue," Peridot wearily admits to that last question. "But whatever the reason is, they're succeeding at getting some people to eat it, because I've seen plenty of the other prisoners-slash-guests here indulge in it already."

She's honestly becoming sorely tempted to do so herself. She's been here for hours now and she's starving.

"No one seems to have died," Foster observes with grim humour. Or fallen into a coma, for that matter. Is that good enough? Doubtful. But he came here to look for some kind of an answer. If he doesn't take the bait, if he just waits--what then? Nothing, very possibly. And that's the one outcome he really can't stand.

"Well, they say the straightest path between two points is a straight line." And they say that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

In this case, 'doing it himself' means opening his mouth and putting 50% of an entire watermelon inside of it.

⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 2

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