ringleaders: (Default)
Lost Carnival Mods ([personal profile] ringleaders) wrote in [community profile] lostcarnival2017-09-04 07:53 pm

⇨ 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, [plurk.com profile] 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.
whattaprick: (Default)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-10 07:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"What are you, then?" The information that he isn't human doesn't seem to be any kind of earth shattering revelation here, but before he can get much further, his daemon chimes up, where it's almost been forgotten on the ground.

"You smell strange."
dressedtothe: (Default)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-10 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
9S glances down at the animal before he straightens his posture and gives the YoRHa version of a salute: left hand held horizontal at his chest, elbow bent.

"I'm a YoRHa number 9 type S model. An android, sir." In case it's not clear -- some have asked him -- 9S adds as explanation, "In other words, I'm mechanical, not biological like you."

He's not sure if he should be insulted that he 'smells strange.' Maybe he needs a bath... even though it isn't like he sweats or anything.
whattaprick: (stabbity stab)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-12 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
'Sir' again, huh ... well, Lambert's had to get used to stranger. Better than a lot of other things he could be called. Regardless, the explanation accounts for both the strange name and the stranger scent.

However, there's another problem: namely, that the explanation fails to entirely satisfy. From the crease in his brow, 9S has correctly deduced that Lambert isn't exactly familiar with the concept.

"You don't act very mechanical," he says skeptically, folding his arms and looking him over with unabashed frankness. "Some kind of golem?"
dressedtothe: (yeah yeah)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-12 02:55 am (UTC)(link)
What the heck is a golem? He doesn't recall there being anything about golems in the records. And why would he act mechanical? What, is he expecting him to act like a machine? First, ew no! And secondly, that would be a waste of these expensive processors and logic circuits!

9S' voice is a little more curt when he responds. "I don't know what a golem is. But we androids were made in mankind's image." That last part is spoken with a hint of pride. "We carry their thoughts and emotions. So we're not mindless automatons, if that's what you were expecting."
whattaprick: (back the fuck up)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-18 02:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Magical construct. Sorcerers build 'em as muscle or guards," Lambert supplies as a brief and probably not entirely satisfactory explanation, looking all too faintly amused -- like that should be ready information that 9S ought to have. What he leaves out is how much of a pain they usually are to deal with, if you run into the wrong side of one.

He looks 9S up and down one more time, then shrugs. As explanations go, it hardly passes 'satisfactory,' but it's not like he'll have plenty of time to ask later. Besides, he can think of a much more interesting way to find out what 9S can do than talking about it.

"I'm expecting that you can do your job. Doesn't really matter what you are." He turns his attention away from 9S, towards the carnival's gates in the distance. "Come on, then. Let's see what you can do."
dressedtothe: (my name is fine)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-19 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
9S sucks in a breath -- he doesn't have a heart, but he can feel his pulse picking up -- before saluting once more. "I won't disappoint!"

This is his chance to give a good impression! He's more than ready; he was made for this!!

Lowering his hand, 9S nods before falling into step beside Lambert as they leave the carnival. Buuut... 9S isn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. Even his starry eyed awe at anyone even remotely like a human can't stop him from chattering away.

"Sooo... A lot of people here scan as human, but weird because of the uh. Fae magic in this place. You're kinda different though." It isn't just fae magic that's making Lambert kinda weird. "Are you human or something else?"
Edited (i totally know how to finish a tag before hitting Post Comment) 2017-09-19 12:08 (UTC)
whattaprick: (eeeyyy lmao)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-20 08:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, someone's enthusiastic," the daemon comments. She sounds like she might be laughing at 9S, just a little, and the nightrider smirks.

"Depends how you define human." He can't help wondering what the hell 'scan as human' even means. "I'm a witcher." And since he's given up any hope at this point that anyone from here knows what the hell a 'witcher' is, he'll just go on and explain -- "Born human to start, mutated by magic before I came here. Gets some nice perks to go with it, like these. Really gets the ladies."

He taps a far-too-long claw near the corner of one cat-slitted eye. The sarcasm is heavy in his voice, but whether 9S picks up on that is another story...

Transitioning from the Carnival to Greysol is really just a matter of walking, which is why they're heading for the entrance -- though if 9S hasn't seen what it looks like in the daytime already, might seem a little dull compared to how lit up it usually is during the Carnival's performance week.
dressedtothe: (these lips don't lie)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-21 03:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Oof. Right, maybe he should tone down the enthusiasm? But it's so hard when he's surrounded by his creators! Humans may as well be his gods.

"Oh. Huh."

He'd thought the slitted eyes had been something from the carnival. Lambert's pretty lucky; if he'd been infected by magic back on Earth -- when magic was still plentiful -- he would be a lovely pile of salt right now. Humans and magic didn't mix very well. 9S picks up on the sarcasm, but should he really be sarcastic back? It seems like a bad idea to give his boss lip, sooo... maybe not. Instead, he focuses on a different part of the conversation.

"I guess... if you were born human, that's what you are. Even if magic changed you, your heart's still the same."

9S doesn't quite understand how the fleshy organ can produce feelings and emotions, but that's how humans work, apparently.

As they walk, the Carnival gives way to a manicured park in the centre of Greysol. It's reflex for 9S to ping for lifeforms, but he doesn't need his scanner abilities to see there are a lot of humans here.
whattaprick: (Default)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-23 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Heart's got nothing to do with it, Nines," Lambert chuckles, though at least there doesn't seem to be any malice to his amusement. As they step on through, the glamor from the Carnival takes hold as well -- largely invisible to 9S's eyes unless he concentrates to see what it looks like. Lambert's daemon develops a suggestion of feathers around her somehow, adopting the guise of a small predatory bird as she skims through the air above them.

People who look up and notice them visibly start -- more at Lambert than 9S -- and give them a wide berth. For a moment, Lambert wonders if the glamor has taken hold at all, but their gazes don't seem to linger on his horns and tail, which he'd expect to draw attention to them.

Though Lambert will pause mid-stride, sniffing the air and turning his head from side to side. "We're near the ocean." He can smell the salt in the air, hear the crash of water on rocks. His daemon confirms as much when she sweeps down, landing on his shoulder.

"There's a harbor in that direction. Seems pretty busy." And then, as one, they look at 9S expectantly.
dressedtothe: (crunching the numbers)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-24 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
9S starts at the use of his nickname. Wow... he didn't even have to tell Lambert what it was! And the opportunity to ask what Lambert means by it is quickly lost as they knuckle down to work.

Straightening, 9S scans the nearby people, including Lambert again. Strange... he's reading as something different now even though he visually seems the same. The Ringmaster's magic must be powerful, if it can fool his sensors so thoroughly. How's Lambert picking up that ocean from so far away? 9S himself can't detect the ocean so easily, and certainly not from scent, but he can detect the presence of living beings gathered in that harbour, though it's far more distorted than usual. In fact, the entire area is unusually unclear, causing a frown to cross his expression.

"Yeah, you're right. There's a lot of people at the harbour." 9S places his hand on his chin. "But there's something about this place..." How can he describe it? The strange ebb and flow of some kind of invisible particle, whisked about like air currents. The only reason he's aware of it is through the absense of other information. "You can't see it either, right? Some kind of... thing, a particle, or maybe a wave, that's coming from people here."

But the people seem fine. It's not like the maso particle; Pod 153 would have picked that up immediately.

"I don't think it's harmful." He scuffs the sole of his boot against the ground, a little miffed. "But it's totally messing with my sensors. It's like... looking into a constantly churning pool of water. Trying to make sense of it is a waste of time."

9S unties his visor, tying it around his arm. It's too out of place here. "But you know, everyone around here has those animals," 9S nods at Lamberts daemon, "and scan as human. You're something else out here, though. I don't know what, but whatever it is, you're not a human to this world."
whattaprick: (that's what she said)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-26 01:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Can he see it? No, Lambert can't, and the medallion on his chest is inert, failing to pick up on whatever it is that 9S is managing to detect in the air. Interesting, Lambert thinks, but he frowns a little at the way he describes it.

"Maybe the churning water's hiding something worth looking at," he says dryly. However, before he can press 9S much further on that -- and hey, he has eyes after all, Lambert almost doubted that -- what he says next brings him up short.

"Something else?" He frowns, glancing at the daemon, who gives her best polecat equivalent of a little shrug. Don't look at her for answers, dude, she's just a polecat! But if 9S's sensors are able to pick it up, there's no doubt he'll notice there's ... a concentration of the substance, whatever it is, in some of the areas around them. Most prominently in the daemons, which aren't reading as biological whatsoever, but also in Lambert ... and strangely, gathered where people are speaking and interacting with each other.
dressedtothe: (high riser)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-26 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
9S bites back the urge to complain. He's not made for discerning the intricacies of biological life; that's 3S' role, not his. No, he has a job to do and he prides himself on performing well beyond expectations! He can't afford to disappoint his human boss!

He manages to keep his usual whine out of his voice when he replies. "You're not anything like what exists in my world, so I can't tell you what, exactly. And looking too hard at you is seriously making my sensors go haywire." So he's gonna stop doing that before he has to resort to forcibly shut them down and reboot. "But alright, alright, I'll look at that other junk again."

9S frowns, dedicating more of his processing power to try and sift through all the static and noise. Ugh, what the heck's with all the interference!? But... he's starting to see where the interference is strongest, building patterns from its lulls and swells.

"It's coming from people," he observes aloud. "Their animals, too. There isn't as much when people aren't really doing anything. Like when they're reading, or walking along the street, that doesn't do much. But... it intensifies when people are communicating with each other. Or..." he shoots a glance over to the party occupying the rest of the park, before pointing directly at the stage where a live performance is taking place, "...Over there. That show. It's basically a cloud of static to me."
whattaprick: (i activate my trap card)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-09-27 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Something interfering with sensors, huh? The polecat matches Lambert's curiosity physically, cocking her head and squinting around. Of course, she can't see a damn thing either, so it's all pretty frustrating, but that's ... an odd way to describe things.

"It reacts ... to people doing things together?" Have they ever heard of a concept like that before? "It could be some kind of magic ... Lambert, you should try doing something."

The witcher was already thinking along the same lines, but being reminded to do it by his other half is annoying, and he scowls. "Don't tell me what to do," he says, but he lifts his hand anyway. A wave of his fingers lights a half-melted candle someone's left on a post, and the dust stirs with the small push of magic he used to ignite it.
dressedtothe: (here come the calvary)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-09-28 11:13 am (UTC)(link)
With the constant ebb and flow of the interference, it's hard to pick out changes when it's all always changing. But it's not difficult to notice the candle being set alight, seemingly with no human input.

He turns his gaze towards the candle. "Did you light that?"

He didn't think humans could do magic, but Lambert did say he was mutated by magic. Maybe there was some kind of transference?

"The interference around the candle increased just for a moment. But it's gone now."

Brief and fleeting, before dispersing.
whattaprick: (back the fuck up)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-10-01 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
It sure is frustrating having to imagine something he can't see and having to take it on faith that it's there. Lambert frowns, but nods, letting his hand drop back to his side.

"Yeah, I did." It's good to know, too, that his magic still feels like it works, more or less.

"I can do it too!" Proud to show off, the polecat turns a somersault in the air, and the candle Lambert just lit is extinguished, seemingly all on its own. This time, however, the source of the disturbance in the air is centered on the daemon, in a similar displacement of particles.

"Just seeing it doesn't tell us much," Lambert points out, frowning. "But if it doesn't seem dangerous, we might as well keep moving."
dressedtothe: (Default)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-10-04 10:46 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, he's in agreement there. ...Well, even if he wasn't, he'd agree anyway.

But looking at all these people... Pod 153 and his floating sword stick out like a sore thumb. The Ringmaster's magic may have changed Lambert and himself to better suit the world, but it's clear that this world just doesn't have the technology to not bat an eyelid at Pod 153. And unfortunately, Pod 153's cloaking technology isn't much use here. It's only designed to fool machines -- after all, they're the only enemy that mattered -- and even then, it doesn't completely hide the presence of the robotic helper; without the presence of the androids they support, the pods would quickly come under fire themselves.

Buuut... while 9S doesn't have much knowledge and experience of magic, the demonstration from Syrlya, Strange's magic show, reading Rita's blastia, seeing Lambert and his animal's magic, as well as all the latent magic around the Carnival and the Ringmaster's spell over them... it's clear that magic's applications are incredibly malleable.

A brief moment of hesistation -- really, he's supposed to be assisting Lambert, not the other way around -- before 9S pushes his query to the forefront. "Before we go, can you do anything to hide my pod? It sticks out here." Asking for assistance like this feels wrong, but he tries not to let it show. "Otherwise, I'm gonna have to send it back to the Carnival."
whattaprick: (these wooounds they will not heeeal)

[personal profile] whattaprick 2017-10-07 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
Lambert frowns, looking at it like he's only really noticing the pod for the first time -- he had before, but now that 9S is drawing conscious attention to it...

"Not really." The only spell for stealth he has needs a consciousness to work ... and he imagines trying to get a box doesn't count. He'd assumed the glamour would disguise it as something, but that doesn't seem to be in effect, either. But 9S's instincts are right; the less attention they draw to themselves, the better.

"Send it back for now. We can figure something out with one of the other nightrunners later."
dressedtothe: (ow right in the heart)

[personal profile] dressedtothe 2017-10-07 01:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Damn. Alright. Looking to Pod 153, he gives it his orders, floating his sword over to the boxy robot. Both sword and his right hand have a ring of light around them as he does so.

"Pod, take my weapon and return to the trailer." Because he doesn't know just how far they'll be travelling from the Carnival, he adds, "Once you arrive, enter sleep mode."

< Affirmative. Returning to Trailer #19 >

And with that, Pod 153 takes the sword -- similarly floating the weapon -- and returns the way they came.

He's not used to working with another person when scouting. Well, he worked with 2B, but that was different. Technically she was there to support him, so he generally got to lead the way.

But it's even more weird working with his boss. Who is. You know. A human. Usually Command just... kind of dump him on Earth and let him do whatever, as long as he got the job done. Maybe he should... defer to Lambert's judgement on where to go next. Yeah.

"Where to, sir?"