lostcarnival | ⇨ GREYSOL

Entry tags:

⇨ GREYSOL

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 155 - Day 169
Where: Greysol
What: The carnival resumes its tour, this time heading to Greysol, a city tied deeply into the fabric of the multiverse. Here, everyone has an animal companion from birth that is the second half of their soul - and thanks to the Ringmaster, so do you. (Remember,

joysweeper is our guest event runner for this location, and location specific questions should go to them.)
Warnings: Individually marked!

THE CITY OF GREYSOL↴

The carnival arrives in a manicured park in the center of a big city that sprawls out along where the river reaches the ocean. It’s spring, early enough that nights are chilly, warm enough in the days that people and their souls savor the weather, and sometimes shelter together from the rain. Greysol was designed from the bottom up to accommodate the human-dæmon bond. Go out and see!

► THE SHAPE OF YOUR SOUL: The dæmon-forming spell kicks in at about four in the morning. Most characters will wake up with their souls in some small form, curled against them. Even if they were awake, they became dazed and unfocused while their souls were being drawn out of their bodies and have little memory of how it happened.

Until that evening every character's dæmon is able to change shapes, and children and some teens will continue to do so. Most will settle on their permanent forms by evening. Characters without dæmons will just look on, and the few who are thousand-pound bears have to handle being really big.

► IT’S GOOD TO SETTLE: Elaine Tavis Aracari, sixteen-year-old daughter of two actors and a moving pictures sensation herself, just ‘settled’ - her dæmon Tavis stopped changing shape - as a stunning blue peacock. Settling is a major coming of age milestone and celebrated as such in different ways all over the world. She and her family are throwing a massive party in the central park and inviting the public to join in! Enjoy easy access to free catering, live music and showings of moving pictures, and displays of mostly trivial magic. There are also form readers from across the country setting up booths, happy to accept a small fee to inspect your dæmon’s settled or most favored forms and tell you what they mean. Is there anything to these analyses? Eh, maybe, but they’re flattering and fun.

► WITCHING HOURS: Characters who are clearly witches for this event will often be assumed to be in town for a lover, and people, witches and not, may want to know who that is. Humans usually regard them with wary respect and interest. Real witches living with their human families or on business quickly suspect that something’s up, but without clear and present danger take a relaxed wait-and-see attitude. Wait for long enough and any possible decision will come around again, they believe.

There isn’t time to learn much witch magic, but witches, real and carnival-made, have an inherent power: the ability to fly using branches of “cloudpine”, an attractive soft-needled tree common in the park. Witches usually ride large branches as if they’re steeds but can use even short sprays, and you’ll probably see the few witches in the city coming to the park to do so. Why not try?

► BEAR PUN: Human-panserbjørn relations have historically been troubled, but have warmed in the past century. It’s the 65th anniversary of the breaking of the Siege of Bertin, a much-mythologized time when Spectres flooded Greysol and a company of panserbjørn arrived and directed efforts to get the survivors out of the city. A statue is being erected and many florid accounts of the story are being told. If you’re in a panserbjørn shape for the duration of the visit you will probably get thanked and celebrated by people trying to hide their nervousness of you. Expect someone to ask if your dæmon would be a human - it’s a common supposition.

► KERNER ISLAND: From the harbor you can see a wooded island. Although there are no rocks to speak of it sports a tall lighthouse, and nearly all boat traffic avoids it carefully. On a clear day someone with binoculars or a particularly sharp-eyed soul can see loads of trash, birds and various other animals that don’t seem local, and… children? Adults and settled teenagers will see tall vague shapes moving about too.

When asked about it the most important thing adults will tell other adults is don’t go there. They’ll hold their dæmons close and tell you that on that island are things that eat souls. They may also admit with mixed pride and shame that it’s been a source of wealth and innovation for the city. There’s a facility there that can open windows into other worlds, and the children who can reach it can cross through and bring things back. Many of the children are recruited by research and development teams on the lookout for items they can use, but there are also kids out to have adventures or who’ve run away. More on this later.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That's what you're most annoyed about?" pipes up Strange, who had been watching from the back but decided to take a seat next to 9S...right as the kid started complaining about the film. He's also a bit grumpy, though he's taking out his annoyances with the film on a large bag of popcorn. Some of the popcorn is set on the ground for a large gray seal, who's happily eating it.

"Somehow, the scarecrow's sentient. Oh, it surely can become animate through magic, but there's no magic that I know of that could bestow sentience on something, let alone give them a brain. This wizard must be a damn liar if he goes around telling people that much."

And thus, a classic film accidentally gets spoiled.

9S tilts his head towards the newcomer, attention drifting from his new companion and his daemon. 9S desperately wants to touch the creature, but he resolutely keeps his hands to himself. He also wants to try the food the man is consuming, but being cut off from the bunker or any sort of maintenence crew makes that a bad idea; he hasn't forgotten shutting down because consuming a mackerel glued up his insides.

"What's it need a brain for anyway?" Now that 9S has someone to complain with, he's not going to stop. "It's not biological and it clearly has motor function without one."

"Oh, did you miss it earlier? There was an entire musical number about why it wanted a brain," said with a roll of his eyes and an 'I can't believe this is actually happening' sort of tone. Because really. Strange can't believe this is happening. Surely this had to be an exception and the rest of the media at Greysol couldn't be this...silly.

"Truth be told, it sounded like the scarecrow wanted education more than a literal brain. Of course, if I were in the thing's shoes, I'd ask for common sense over either of them. It seems to be in short supply with some people."

Strange isn't naming names, though it's obvious there's a few people he's thinking of in particular.

That 'musical number' had certainly been a... thing. It had almost been as awful as the machine rendition of Romeos and Juliets. It may have been so bewildering that his processor hadn't finished computing his attempts to understand what was going on.

But there's a far more pressing concern he has on hand right now. He blinks, gaze sliding to the stranger, his glamour butterfly coming to rest on his wrist. "What's education? Or common sense?"

A brief look of confusion flits over Strange's face before it's replaced by one of resignation. Ah. He's from the carnival, that's the only explanation. Surely this person would understand the concept of common sense, but it probably had a different name back where he came from.

"Education is book learning, the sort of learning that you get from schools, teachers, textbooks, and so on. Common sense is that little voice in your head that tells you what to do or not do in a situation. For instance, if you were at a cliff, education could be used to calculate the speed at which you fell and what trajectory you would hit the ground if you jumped off. Common sense would tell you not to jump off in the first place."

There's a pause, before it's Strange turn to ask a question. "Out of curiosity, when did you sign up for the carnival?"

9S makes a face at the mention of textbooks. Pah! Reading physical pages is so slow. A little voice in his head would be worrying; that would be a sure sign of someone hacking him. But the rest of it makes sense. Knowledge and survival instinct.

9S brightens when he realises the stranger is from the carnival rather than one of the locals. His internal clock has gone all weird since he arrived, undoubtedly because he's not synched to the Bunker anymore. "2 days ago at 7:00am, Carnival time." He continues, "My name is 9S. I'm assigned repair and scouting duties. What's your name and role?"

"It seems we'll be coworkers! My name is Jonathan Strange. I'm a magician as well as a mercenary." He gives 9S a little smile, having entirely forgotten about the movie to focus on the conversation instead. Because not understanding the concept of education? A name like 9S? This kid's suddenly become very interesting.

"The seal's named Siobhan," he explains, gesturing to said seal, who's currently wolfing down that popcorn like there's no tomorrow. "She's a temporary addition."

Even though 9S knows there's some strange magic afoot, the truth is that everyone here is picking up as human to his sensors, even though he knows that carnival members are just as frequently not quite humans. Even knowing that, he can't quite shake off the feeling of awe.

And he is having a really hard time shaking off the urge to touch the 'seal' so he finds out what her skin feels like. For data collection purposes of course. And not just because he wants to know.

He lowers his voice, aware that there are actual locals who could overhear. "The animals are temporary for everyone, right?" He gestures to the butterfly settled on his wrist. A short pause before he asks, "Before the carnival leaves, can I touch her?"

He knows he's not supposed to, buuut.

At the same time as Strange responds with "I suppose so," his daemon chimes in with "Absolutely not."

The effect's lessened by her mouth full of popcorn, but the annoyance is clear. Strange turns to look at the seal with a confused expression, only to be met by a stern frown from her end. There's a moment where they look at each other, before Strange shrugs and turns back to 9S. "Perhaps near the end of our time here," he compromises.

"But yes, the animals are temporary. This isn't the first time the Ringmaster changed us in order to better fit in at a location."

9S tries hard to contain his inner excitement. He has absolutely no idea what this animal is and obviously the first key to learning about an animal is to touch it. ~~Shooting at them comes later~~.

"Thanks." He says it to both man and talking animal. He's holding you two to that promise!

Maybe he'll even coax the seal with some popcorn; he thought he'd seen some in the Carnival.

"Blending in, right?"

It's the same reason he'd left his pod, blindfold and sword behind, as reluctant as he was about it. He's never had to do that before, but he does what he needs to do to complete his job.

"Whatever she did, everyone I've met from the Carnival out here scans as completely human." Which is weird, considering the number of humans-but-changed or not-even-human-at-all people he's encountered. "Including you. It's pretty impressive."

As one of those humans-but-changed people, Strange can't help but raise an eyebrow. Scans as completely human? What exactly did 9S mean by that? How are people scanned in the first place? Strange doesn't have a damn clue where to start on that line of inquiry, so he's instead going to focus on the latter bit: nerding out over magic.

"It's the power of fae magic. You can certainly have oddities wandering around the carnival, but things are a bit different when we're wandering around in polite society. The last time we all were changed like this, the Carnival stopped in an underwater city--we all grew fins and gills. This time, I suppose it's to make us fit in better and stave off question after question." After all, everybody here had daemons. There would undoubtedly be a bit of drama if someone showed up without one.

"But yes, it is impressive. I hate to admit it, but her faerie magic puts my English magic to shame."

Underwater...! If 9S had a proper stomach, it would clench at that thought. Sure, he can deal with a little water, but being completely submerged is not a terribly good idea for him.

"That makes you from England, right?"

That's a location from the Old World! Is he a human from before the aliens attacked? 9S becomes noticeably more interested in Strange.

"I wonder, does your country of origin matter when it comes to magic? What sorts of things can you do?"

"I am," Strange answers, with a nod. "As for your second question, in my world only Englishmen can perform magic. And, at least at the moment, it's only a handful of Englishmen in the first place."

At least, he's fairly certain only Englishmen can perform magic. If there were any other magicians in Europe or the colonies, then certainly Napoleon would have found them and conscripted them to fight in the peninsula the way Strange was conscripted.

But it's at that second question that Strange just looks so smug. What can he do? A whole bunch of shit, that's what.

"Most of my more flashy magic I'm saving for the carnival. However, I do know a few more subtle spells that I can demonstrate here, if you wish."

Is magic some kind of property inherent in Englishmen? Kind of like how combat units are incapable of hacking.

But more importantly... 9S says eagerly, "Heck yeah I would!"

This a perfect opportunity to see human magic! It would be a valuable experience to bring back to the rest if the androids.

It's a long complicated answer that involves a lot of long complicated faerie nonsense so yeah, sure magic is some kind of property inherent in Englishmen, let's go with that until Strange shoves his book at poor 9S.

The opportunity to show off is more important. Placing his hand on the earth, Strange mutters something under his breath. There's a brief feeling of power before a few flowers pop up from under the dirt and rapidly grow, bud, and bloom. They're small flowers, wildflowers over anything else, but they're brightly colored and smell beautiful.

"There we go," Strange responds, a bit self-satisfied. "A demonstration of English magic."

Books are dead.

Whatever happened to watching the film? Apparently it's been completely forgotten in lieu of the fare more interesting show in front of him.

9S crouches down to get a closer look at the flowers, their scent wafting through his olfactory system. "Are these real?" His fascination is clear from the awe in his voice. "Or are these constructs?"

Can he touch one? 9S reaches a hand forward to do just that.

"I don't know what you mean by constructs but the flowers are entirely real. Feel free to touch one," Strange remarks, with a smug little smile. Because they are real, 100% flowers, no illusions or anything to try and deceive the senses. If 9S scanned one then it would show up as an actual plant, native to this region, healthy and thriving.

"You can pick one also, if you wish. The flowers have already grown, then can certainly be picked."

9S' area of speciality unfortunately isn't plant life; that honour belongs to another unit. Granted, 9S isn't particularly known for sticking to what he's actually supposed to be doing. But at the very least, he can tell it's real and alive.

He picks one, but he holds it awkwardly, as if unsure of what to do with it. This is creation. Isn't that supposed to be something in the realm of gods? For once, he's struck dumb, as if his vocal systems are experiencing a failure.

Finally, he says, "This is incredible!" The plucked flower is cradled in his hands. It's not disappearing. It's not disppearing. "You said you're working as a magician. When do you perform? I want to see more."

What is doing his actual job?

Just continue to feed his ego and call him amazing, Strange can get used to that. That smug little smile stays firm on his face as he laps up 9S's praise. If the android was struck dumb by such a small spell then who knows how he would react to a larger, more impressive feat of magic!

Forget the movie, Strange is going to show off an array of spells instead.

"I perform at the carnival--though there's around a week until our next performance. However, if we return to the carnival grounds, I wouldn't mind giving a private show!" Of course, they'll have to walk back to the carnival grounds. Strange's main methods of closing the distance in between things involve reflections: and there's no mirrors, ice, or puddles around for him to just yank 9S through.

"What do you say?"

Strange has picked up a fan.

Why the heck not. There's no Command to tell him what to do, and 2B isn't here to keep him on track (not that he would ever abandon his job!!).

"I say, yeah!"

Let's blow this joint, Strange! Though, 9S glances down at the seal and her popcorn. How's Siobhan gonna come if she has no legs?

9S is about to get that question answered. As Strange stands up, Siobhan looks at him and sighs. She starts floating, 'swimming' upwards through the air until she's about level with his shoulder.

"If we must," she responds, with a sigh. "I WAS enjoying the movie, but we'll watch it another time." There's a pointed look at Strange because they're watching that movie whether he wants to or not, dammit.

Gesturing for 9S to follow him, Strange starts to head back in the direction of the carnival.

Is. Is floating normal animal behaviour?

But 9S follows the pair anyway, his glamour butterfly flitting behind him. As they walk, 9S peppers Strange with questions, like Does you saw people in half? Doesn't that hurt them? After all, that's something human records said magicians did.

But when they finally re-enter the Carnival, 9S pauses. "Hey, mind if I get my pod? I want to show your performance to everyone back home."

Normally his pod would be with him at all times, but a hovering box bot buddy in a world that isn't so technologically advanced would definitely make it hard for him to blend in.

"Not at all!" Strange remarks, having absolutely no idea what 9S's pod is. Though, show his performance...it must be some sort of recording device. He doesn't know exactly how to work them, but through all of the various worlds the carnival's stopped at, Strange at least has a slight idea of how a recording device works.

But the phrase 'show your performance to everyone back home' is enough to warm his show-offy egotistical heart. Hell yeah, 9S can record it!

"Shall we meet in the big top? My act does have a flashy entrance so if I'm not there but a mirror is set up, then go ahead and start recording. I'll be able to tell when you enter."

By watching 9S with creepy spying magic.

Heck yeah!

9S gives Strange a quick salute -- left arm bent at the elbow, hand held horizontally at his chest -- before saying, "Roger that!"

And he absolutely books it out of there. The more observant would notice his slightly heavy footfalls as he runs, but he quickly disappears out of sight.

As agreed, he's soon entering the Big Top, his pod beside him. It looks like a hovering box with two metal arms with three fingers jutting out. As he walks over to a good spot in the front, 9S wonders if Strange is ready.

"Pod, record the entire performance. I bet the others would love to see it."

His pod replies in a voice that can only be described as female and robotic.

< Affirmative. Recording will commence in 3. 2. 1 >

Edited 2017-09-12 01:26 (UTC)

Thankfully, Strange is ready. There's a large standing mirror, sitting in the big top, near the back of the ring and a water barrel about halfway full to one side, but that's it. Thankfully, Strange managed to get some things set up before booking it backstage when he heard 9S and Pod appear. A combination of scrying and straight up eavesdropping tells him when the two have shown up and when Pod started recording.

The surface of the mirror ripples briefly before Strange magically steps through it, as if being pushed out from the mirror. His daemon follows, before she comfortably sits herself down next to the mirror. And now that they're in the carnival, the glamour of Greysol's been removed and 9S can see the various changes the carnival's given Strange: most notably, eyes that are comprised entirely of mirrors, and which shimmer as the light reflects off of them.

Oh, that little metal box thing must be Pod. Strange focuses his attention on the two of them, giving 9S and Pod a little nod before he speaks.

"Obviously a show can only go so far on it's own. I'm not in my performance attire and there's nobody to help man the lights. I suppose that's all the more reason for anyone watching this to attend the carnival! After all, my act can only get better. Though, you may wonder, what can possibly top the act of traveling through the mirrors themselves?" His voice raises as he gestures theatrically to the mirror--and then, almost on clue, Siobhan slaps the mirror with her flipper with a resounding thud as if to prove just how solid it is.

Turns out the daemon's just as theatrical as her other half. Because Strange is just far too hammy. He's settled into the show-offy role of a magician annoyingly well. "I've plenty more tricks up my sleeve. 9S, Pod, and any future viewers: are you ready for an astonishing display of the strength of English magic?"

settle!

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wanna timeskip the walking back to the carnival bit?

you betcha

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