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

☠ THE SHAPE OF YOUR SOUL ☠

Papyrus opens his eyes to see some of the gamer's circle tents rising around him, as if he's lying on the ground.

It's not the first time he's inexplicably and unintentionally fallen asleep at the carnival, and it probably won't be the last... But boy, he's not a fan of it. At least this time he's not a lobster. Or a murderous shadow blob. In fact, he almost feels normal...? Except for a weight on his chest, which stirs and shivers as he reaches up.

"Ugh. Were we asleep?" The weight says, turning a head to look back at him with luminescent eyes. Her voice sounds familiar, or maybe it's not her voice but something else. She's a cat, though that doesn't last long; she leans into his touch, stretches, then changes into a small bird to flit about his head. And he could feel her change shape, almost like he can feel his own hands shift as he pushes himself up, and he realizes.

"Oh," Papyrus exclaims, sitting up and watching her. "Yes, I think we were! But... you weren't here, yet."

"No, not like this. But in a way..." She perches on his knee and fluffs herself into a little ball. "Do you think everybody's split in half like this? If this is some spell to make us fit in somewhere..."

It makes sense. And it's such an exciting question. He offers a finger for her to move to, then leaps to his feet. "Let's find out!!"

Most people are likely asleep, this time of night, but there's usually a few sleepless sorts around.

☠ IT’S GOOD TO SETTLE ☠

"But why a goose?" Papyrus wonders again as they walk through the park, party preparation well in force around them. Settling is a big thing, and one that demands parties! And they've settled so recently, it's like the party's also for them.

Sistina walks a little ahead of him, wings tucked in at her sides, feet plopping along the sidewalk. She doesn't shrug, but tilts her head in a way he's sure means the same thing. "It feels right. I don't know what it means."

"Looking for answers about who you really are?" A new voice calls out from the side of the path, an unfamiliar human with a bullfrog perched on their booth. "Come right over here, and let's have a look at you."

Sure, the form readers have the same kind of sales pitch as any talker from the Carnival, but that doesn't mean there's nothing to what they're saying! Probably.

☠ KERNER ISLAND... HARBOR ☠

Tragically, according to the rules of this world, he's too old and settled in his ways to go to that island.

Well, it's not really a tragedy. Going out to explore an island covered in invisible dangers is not his idea of a fun time. Boating on the open sea, with all those choppy waves, is even less of a fun time??

The goose daemon doesn't mind the waves, despite her worrying and complaining about all manner of other things. They're down at the harbor, Papyrus standing in the surf, so Sistina can bob along just past the cresting waves.

It's just, there's something about it. Humans telling fearful tales of a place where creatures that devour souls reside. Monsters. A place apart from the rest of the world, isolated from it, yet visited by fearless children.

"Do you think the humans back home tell stories like this about the underground?" Sistina wonders, then dips under the water for a moment.

He waits until she surfaces, not yet sure how well she can hear without hearing. "Why would they! Nobody's ever eaten a human soul, that's disgusting."

She looks at him, then away to the mysterious island. "The ones Asgore gathered all went missing... They must have gone somewhere."

That's very true, and he doesn't have a quick answer to it.

Edited 2017-09-06 00:46 (UTC)

Normally 9S would be in sleep mode around this time, but this is his first time experiencing night. He'd watched the sun set earlier. Now he's awake so he can watch the sun rise. But while he's waiting, his head is tilted up to look at the stars.

Unlike Papyrus, 9S doesn't have a daemon, only a red glamour butterfly flitting behind him. He does, however, have a robot friend hovering nearby. In fact, when Papyrus draws near, it speaks to 9S helpfully in a robotic, but female sounding voice as it turns on its flashlight and trains it directly on Papyrus and his fluffy daemon friend.

< Alert: Unidentified lifeform detected approaching our position >

Immediately, 9S turns his head to look at the stranger... and is struck dumb for a moment. He's seen plenty of strange people since his arrival, but a human skeleton is still surprising. Or maybe not quite human, he corrects himself when he notices the changes.

"You're up early." Or late. "Who are you?"

The mostly-humanoid skeleton shields his eyesockets from the flashlight, balancing back on too-long feet as he tries to recognize them. Nothing seems familiar, and their robot friend is distinctive enough among the carnival's members to have stood out... Well, no sense getting stuck on their identity when there's a question lingering in the air.

"Of course! Papyrus is quick to recover from the allure of snoozesville."

"He's Papyrus," the daemon clarifies, changing into a squirrel and wrapping herself around his shoulders. "And I'm... hmm. We can't both be Papyrus."

He tilts his head to consider her, but doesn't turn away from their potential new friends. "Why not? I'd allow it! It's a great name."

"Too confusing! Don't you think so?" She addresses 9S and the robot, with a skeptical glance at the glamour butterfly flitting about.

9S blinks from behind his 'blindfold'; animals don't usually change shape like that. Out of curiosity, 9S scans the daemon, but the creature shows up as a whole lot of nothing to his sensors.

Glancing between the two and feeling confused, 9S jerks when they suddenly address him.

"Uh." Why're you asking me!? Isn't a name something given to you? Utterly bewildered, 9S replies, "One of you could be Papyrus A and the other could be Papyrus B?"

His own glamour butterfly rests itself on 9S' wrist.

Edited 2017-09-09 11:40 (UTC)

"Hmm. An informative twist, on a classic name... But who would be A, and who would be B?" Papyrus asks, just to the daemon this time.

Flicking her tail back and forth, a smile in her voice, she snarks, "A for... Arigional. And B for Better."

"B for Bones! And A for..." The skeleton scratches at his chin, cupping it in mimicry of thoughtful thinking poses everywhere. "Maybe not A."

They both hum thoughtfully, and the daemon looks back at the robot. "What are your names? Maybe we can get an idea from you."

It's not that hard to pick a name! 9S watches the exchange in bemusement. Just listening to this makes him feel like his logic circuits are degenerating.

"I'm a YoRHa number 9 type S model. But people usually call me 9S." He raises a hand to gesture to his robot buddy. "This is Pod 153."

Does that actually help their decision?

Papyrus considers their answer for scant seconds before announcing, "Wow, that doesn't help at all!"

"Papyrus!!" The daemon thwaps her tail across his face, like covering his mouth would do anything to stop him from talking. She crouches a little lower, and adds, "I'm sure those are perfectly good names. But... maybe not for us."

9S is getting a headache from this. Or he would be, if he were capable of getting one. A metaphorical headache, then.

"You're already using Papyrus when you talk to each other," he points out with a pout, slightly put out by the blatant rejection of his and pod's 'names'. "Why don't you just use the same name? I think it's way more confusing using a name that's not you."

Metaphorical Headache could be a pair of names for them.

"Are we?" Skeleton and daemon look at each other, as much as he can see from the corner of his eyesocket. "Maybe? I didn't notice. But, still..."

Papyrus shrugs, barely not jostling the daemon, only because she shifts and grips in anticipation. "Regardless, I'm already Papyrus and 'bro' interchangeably to our brother. And he's Sans, and 'brother,' to us! What's another nickname?"

Papyrus - will match format!

The shape of your soul

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Harbor

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when u realize just -how many- mistakes u made in your first tag-in...

oh no! let me know if you want us to do the temp delete edit and repost thing, i understand

lmao nah it's all good

okok cool

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