lostcarnival | ⇨ 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

[Syrlya himself also happens to be headed that way, his own great owl daemon trailing a few feet behind, flying from perch to perch. He glances over as he overhears the conversation and a small smirk tugs at his lips.]

Is that your keeper, now?

I may as well be. He's gotten lazy, Morticia pronounces before Tyki can even open his mouth. Her head is smashed against his legs and she's pushing rather aggressively to drag him towards the Cookhouse.

"I am perfectly capable of delegating what I do and don't need. She is rather forceful in what she wants." But then again so was he. Don't mind as his eyes scan over his body for any sign of his dæmon.

Syrlya catches Tyki's staring, but since Amser is hovering far enough away that Syrlya doesn't even register its presence as relevant, he... doesn't have any idea why Tyki is looking him over like that. It just comes across as kind of rude.

He purses his lips in a tight frown and raises his brow. "More forceful than you?"

Because the real question is who's going to win this tug-of-war between the two of them.

When he doesn't spot it after a time he will turn his attention away from him to Morticia and his fingers will press against her head and push. Funny thing is one can't exactly choose not to touch their own soul. He finds his power does not work on her.

"Perhaps. She is rather mischievous, bolder than she should be." Of course that gets an immediate chomp onto his arm and she's pulling back to drag him. He looses his balance within a second of her strong pull and his eyes will narrow with a chuckle. "Oi, Morticia!"

Syrlya chuckles, clasping his hands behind his back as he follows them to the cookhouse. Breakfast before adventuring probably is a good idea.

"I think it is more than 'perhaps'!"

Is it bad he's worried more about his threads than the fact she's ordering him around? Because he's trying to dislodge her mouth as she practically drags him with a mouthful towards the cookhouse.

"Okay, you have a point. She definitely is. Persistent! Annoying! Troublesome!" he'll huff when he finds his feet now within the Cookhouse walls.

"And, it seems, successful," he muses with an amused smirk on his face. Amser lands on some crates of food near the entrance, ruffling his feathers slightly before setting into a watchful position.

"I suppose, if you are so impatient, you can find something very portable to eat. Such as an apple."

"At practically everything." But then, so was he. It's already strange for the Noah to have his soul out in the open for anyone to harm. It's just as strange to find someone completely like himself.

She manages to drag him all the way inside until he's practically touching the counter where food is to be had, "If it is to be apples like he always takes then it should be several apples!"

He flicks her nose only to rub at his own. He forgets he can feel whatever she can, "An excellent suggestion! What do you prefer for breakfast?" Completely probing for information as he's curious what the walking plant eats.

Breakfast? It's almost lunch!, she nearly growls.

You can't really go wrong with fresh fruit, so when they reach the counter Syrlya digs out one of the basketed apples on display himself.

"Whatever I can take that is easy to carry," He says with a shrug. "I have rarely had time to stay in one place."

So he might be picking up one of those smaller baskets and dumping everything but apples into the larger ones.

"No, no. I mean, if you had the luxury of anything and all the time to indulge in it. What would you eat then? Forget the wars, battles, family troubles or whatever ails you at home. What breakfast gives you the greatest pleasure?"

"Uh--" Syrlya stops in the middle of planning to take a bite and stares dully at Tyki. He can't remember the last time he woke up to not be worrying about the war, the fate of his world. A 'greatest pleasure' is relative, but Syrlya hasn't lived for pleasure in such a long time that it takes him a moment to remember the small things he used to seek out when he was still a Sapling just navigating the world.

"... I suppose I am very fond of mango." It's not a grandiose answer, but despite his high rise of heroism and fame, Syrlya isn't a grand person.

He himself will select one of the apples and palm it in his hand now that he has them tucked against his arm ready for feasting. Morticia will keep an eye on him as she asks for something to go. She's going to get him a sandwich or something else to eat because she knows those apples are not going to suit him for long.

He raises a brow at another fruit choice but everyone has their preferred food. It says a lot about a person given what they indulge in, "Interesting choice. It would depend on the meal for me."

Syrlya raises a brow. He thought this was about breakfast, how much more dependent does it get?

"Are you going to give me the same vague answer I first gave you?" Syrlya doesn't really care what Tyki's eating habits are, but now that he's been prodded for it he at least expects a better answer than that.

He can eat fish just about any time of the day especially fresh caught.

He snorts at her valued input and will seem to loose himself in thought, "If I'm with family, a large meal with bacon, eggs, pancakes, several sides to pick and choose from. Something we can all enjoy. On a cold winter, ham and toast. If I'm alone, maybe just oatmeal." He pauses only because his white life habits are a little different, "But on the road with friends before a hard days work a nice helping of scrambled eggs with a little salt over an iron cast pan on a warm fire!"

And yet, absolutely none of those involved fish. That's a lot more thought than Syrlya puts into food, so he assumes he must be something of an aficionado. Or maybe it's just Syrlya who's the odd one out.

"What is it you do for work?"

He grins because Syrlya is asking about that. It's very conflicting in nature and he has to take a bite of an apple just to sort through his thoughts. He'll even walk towards him and past towards the exit of the cookhouse. He has what he needs and he should likely not stall any longer lest Morticia makes him eat something bigger. She's quiet now that she's carrying a bag of to-go food for him in her mouth.

"When I'm not with my family and with my friends we take whatever job we can get. Mostly mining but we've done other hard jobs like carrying and transportation."

⇨ GREYSOL

Shape of your soul

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