lostcarnival | ⇨ HEARTSTONE MANOR

Entry tags:

⇨ HEARTSTONE MANOR

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 170 - Day ???
Where: Heartstone Manor
What: The carnival arrives at the Heartstone Manor. Do your best to play along, and try not to get too far ahead of the schedule with threading if you can avoid it, in case something that would affect your character happens early on.
Warnings: Individually marked! Could be a lot of things.

BEAUTIES AND THE BEAST↴

When the carnival arrives at the Manor, everyone will be taken into the Throne Room to greet the Prince for the first time. He will be lounging on his throne, and will take a look at the guests that the Ringmaster has brought before eventually dismissing everyone so that he can talk to her alone. After that, they will be given a brief tour of the Manor by some of the servants, and then brought to their rooms to start picking out clothes for tomorrow. On the first night they will be permitted to wear regular clothes, but starting the next morning the dress code will be enforced.

There will be a number of servants helping guests with clothing, and making alterations to suit the non-humanoid features they may have. The tailors work with fabric by hand, but their stitching is impossibly quick and accurate, with changes being made to complex clothing at unbelievable speed. Some guests may note while working with them that one of the seamstresses has wooden mannequin-esque hands instead of human ones, and another has two sets of arms. The arms are one of the most obviously inhuman traits that they'll see while first touring the building.

Come the morning of Day 171, the daily routine will begin.

⇨ THE DAILY SCHEDULE ⇦

► FIVE MEALS A DAY: Between breakfast, lunch, tea, supper, and evening drinks, the meals you are required to attend are frequent and long. Each meal (except drinks and tea) will have multiple rounds, and use all of the fancy cutlery. It will be difficult to keep up for those that are untrained. The food will vary greatly, but will generally to be palatable to those that are into whatever kind of food it might be. Some of them are odd delicacies that are very much an acquired taste, however. People who cannot eat will be given a pass once the Ringmaster explains it, but will be looked down on for it.

► DAILY ACTIVITIES: There are scheduled activities for every morning and afternoon,
and everyone is required to attend. Descriptions of each activity are provided on the "Event Descriptions" tab of the spreadsheet linked up above. There is only one hour of free time scheduled per day, after supper, and beyond that the servants will almost constantly have you on the go. The Prince and Ringmaster will not be present for most of the activities, but they will be there for every meal. If you character refuses to follow the schedule or makes a huge mess out of proceedings, make sure to report it here.

► AFTER CURFEW: At 11PM, everyone is expected to return to their quarters and spend the rest of the night there. Wandering after curfew is unacceptable by the Prince's rules, and if you do it there will be the chance of discover. Based on your character's stealth abilities, there will be dice rolling to determine if they are discovered or not, and by whom. Make sure you report any after curfew activity to the mod post here. This can also take place as an investigation if they are actually looking for something instead of just farting around.

► ROOM AND BOARD: The servants will remain upbeat for most of the time the guests are here, unless something is done to provoke them. They will be present at every activity, and there will be a variety of different individuals. One frequently spotted character will be the butler, a man with dark hair and small, sharp horns. He seems to be the main organizer of things.

► ODDITIES: Even beyond the obvious, there is something off about the Manor. Doors, windows, and other household objects will sometimes move seemingly without cause, and other times there will be banging sounds in the walls, or mysterious voices heard at a distance. It feels like you're being haunted. If you have a moment to wander the corridors, then you'll sometimes see open doors abruptly slam shut the moment you lay eyes on them, and wall sconces turn off or on. It's weird, man.

► THE HUNT: The Hunt activity will have its own event post, and some sign ups for those that will participate meaningfully. There will be some dice rolling to determine who hunts the most impressive game, and rewards handed out accordingly. Before that post goes up, however, you can do some investigations for the start of the event, if your character is interested in looking into the specifics of the contest and overall context.

MAKE SURE THAT ALL DECORUM VIOLATIONS ARE REPORTED HERE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Per-day prompts below.]

[172 | Tea Time]

[Syrlya's realized that if you keep your mouth shut and your expression carefully neutral, it's very easy to fake your way through this. He knows how to not draw attention to himself, so he's largely kept to the sidelines of the activities--participating enough to not trigger any of the servant's concern, but distant enough he can keep an eye on his fellow carnival members. Lambert, after all, tasked the nightrunner's with making sure there was no trouble.

Really, the only way to fail tea time is rudeness, but most of the member's edge has been obvious. So if someone seems nervous, lost, or anxious, he'll get up from the table to come up beside them and gesture them towards it.]

If you are looking for a place to sit, there is free space at that table.

[172 | Drinks & Card Games]

[Most of the card games aren't terribly far off from some of the ones found in Tyria, and when you're in bunkers or tents with a bunch of soldiers card games are one of the few activities you can carry with you. So Syrlya picks up on the rules quickly.

There's no betting for poker, whether it's because there's nothing to bet or because the Prince finds it uncivilized, but Syrlya still has his expression schooled in passive indifference as he discards and retrieves cards in turn.

And yet somehow he keeps losing. The fact he can hardly win a game doesn't seem to phase him, and he always waves it off with a smile about how terrible at it he must be before he turns away the group, absently swirling the wine in his glass as he turns his attention to the bar.

He's chosen the table as close to it as possible, watching the servants that man it and anyone who goes back and forth for a drink.

Especially those who go back and forth for too many drinks.]

[Wildcard.]

[Just throw something at me. \o/ If your character is misbehaving or struggling, Syrlya will do his best to intervene before it becomes a huge decorum issue.]

Edited 2017-10-10 18:43 (UTC)

[Doll isn't one of those who keeps frequenting the bars, though she is having trouble understanding some of the rules to the games. She was never really one for the card games the roustabouts played backstage, no time and all that-- so she's struggling to learn while also feeling very warm in the clothing she was given earlier this evening.]

[She bites her lip and squints at the cards, deciding she wants four swapped out-- and wincing when the four come back and she obviously has nothing.]

This is harder than it looks...

Syrlya is glad to see Doll still around and unharmed, given what he remembers that mysterious Portland did to her and her family. He smiles even as he catches her wince, because this is all harmless enough--and discards and collects three cards. He doesn't seem to feel one way or the other about the hand he's obtained, however.

"It is, isn't it? I would play a similar game with soldiers in tents, but I was not very good at it then, either." That isn't entirely the truth--he was decent and good at making others nervous about whether he actually had a good hand or not, and right now he's just playing completely terribly and obviously distracted.

"Th'roustabouts used ta play somethin' like this-- pretty sure. Never really had th'time ta watch close, but it seemed pretty easy." Apparently not, though. There was a lot of luck involved. Doll frowns and tilts her head at her cards as though that would change the numbers on them.

"Seems like a silly game of hopin' the right cards come t'ya."

"You don't care for games of luck?" He turns back to Doll, raising a brow. That sounds like the crux of the issue, at least--not that he prefers to rely on luck himself.

"I believe part of the strategy is knowing which cards you should get rid of, rather than just hoping to always get better ones."

Well, and lying.

"Hmmm. But still. How d'ya know which ones t'get rid of? Maybe y'get rid of, a five f'r example, and then y'immediately pick up 'nother five? That's just bad luck, not strategy." She frowns and shuffles through her hand.

"I don' much like 'em. Games of chance."

"Oh, well--" Syrlya fumbles with his cards a moment as he absently re-adjusts them. "The suit matters as well, but I don't really play enough to explain the strategic aspect of it... you probably do not want advice from someone who keeps losing after all," he smiles wryly.

"What sort of games do you like, then?" This seems to be theme of the night: what would anyone rather be doing than this.

"Hm," Doll's frown gets a little deeper as she tries to figure out this latest rule-- why would the suit matter? She eventually just rolls her eyes and sighs heavily, resolved to never understanding how to play this game.

"I like tag. 'N Hide 'n Seek. Like seeing how many cartwheels I can do before I get too dizzy t'stand!" She grins. "S'far my record's thirty-eight!"

[Lunch | Is This An Ethical Use of Magic?]

[The warden is missing. It's difficult to hide their dwindling numbers as is, but especially so when one of them is a supervisor, and very prominent at the front of every meal. Breakfast was a lost cause, but as people continued to not see Sans for mealtime, the more agitated they were likely to get as they realized the hard truth.

They needed to at least buy enough time to talk to the carnival members without them panicking, Syrlya is an extremely skilled Mesmer, and that's what bore the idea that they should just. Fake it. Pretend Sans is really there, at least at lunch and dinner until they can wrestle everyone else into behaving.

So 'Sans' and Syrlya walk in as a pair, like everyone else, and sit in their respective seats. Both of them are oddly quiet, and Syrlya's attention seems to float frequently at the Supervisor's table--though he never meets the Prince's eyes.

They just have to act normal through this meal. So 'Sans' participates, even if he doesn't appear to eat anything. He's less spoken than normal but he is, at least, engaging the other supervisor's lazily.

And when they get through lunch, Syrlya and 'Sans' leave the dining hall at roughly the same time. Except neither one of them speaks to or looks at the other, instead taking a detour as they're shuffled to the Courtyard, disappearing from the sight of the rest of the carnival and servants... unless someone follows.]

[Someone follows, of course. Papyrus noticed his brother's absence at the earlier two meals. His absence, a few others' absence, Psi's visible and audible nervousness...

Normally people missing from meals would be nothing, easily dismissed as sleeping in and missing breakfast. But not here, not in this rigidly structured manor where they're escorted from bedrooms to dining hall by alert servants, where they're to follow the rules or else... something unspeakable might happen.

So he follows, missing the coincidence of Syrlya's presence both times, and calls out down the hall to the Courtyard.]

Hey! Sans! Did you... misplace your radio? I tried calling you earlier!

[Oh.

Shit.

'Sans' stops, but Syrlya keeps walking faster. He dashes around a corner as quickly as he can and quickly puts himself under an invisibility spell. He peers around the corner and--it's another skeleton. Lambert said he had a brother here, Papyrus, and of course his brother is going to be another fucking skeleton.

This is exactly the situation he wanted to avoid and here it is, and now he has to deal with it. Damn him, damn him and his bright ideas.

'Sans' turns to his brother and offers a lazy wave.] Hey. Sorry 'bout that, I didn't hear a thing.

No? Did you... oh my god.

[Papyrus scowls and throws his hands in the air, stomping for the rest of his approach over.]

Did you take a nap? In the middle of the day? Sans!

[He glances back down the hall, wary that maybe someone is listening in. There's a servant back at the dining hall entry, very insistently encouraging some laggers to finish and leave... but no one here yet. They have a minute.]

You'll get in trouble if you're caught doing that! I know you know that, you told us the rules!

[This is terrible. He feels terrible. He can't believe he's actually doing this. What would Sans even say to that? Sans hadn't been unalert even when he was staying up to monitor the hallways (and look how well that went), so he probably--wouldn't? But then what's his excuse for the radio?

He is going to get caught, he knows it, this is his brother.

'Sans' lets out a weak chuckle, really just buying time.] I know. We gotta play by the rules or else, right?

[Syrlya buries his face in his hands.]

Right! No mid-day napping! So...

[Sans, clearly, knows what they're supposed to be doing. And he's shrugging and laughing it off, without any good kind of explanation for it. And, sure, there'd been some hints of footsteps in the hall last night... and a strange, wordless communication on the radio... but surely, if Sans had stayed up all night keeping tabs on people with his shortcuts, he'd have said so! Which means he just napped for the heck of it. This kind of nonsense is exactly the reason the Ringmaster told him to keep Sans in line. Obstinate and messy and chronically not punctual.

Just punctual.

And even that, not as much as he used to. Papyrus knows Sans has been taking his responsibilities more seriously than he used to... and taking on more responsibilities. So this is mindboggling. Unless...]

Oho. I think I see what's wrong here!

[He pauses a couple seconds to let anticipation build, and then bursts out with his realization.]

...You're backsliding into bad habits, because the pressure's getting to you! Don't be fooled by the comfortable lies of laziness and work-skipping, Sans! The consequences will surely be worse than merely being fired.

[They might be literally fired. Skeleton bbq.]

[Syrlya peers around the corner from between his fingers. They were just supposed to make it until free time, and then go over the terrible news with everyone and shake them to cooperate!

'Sans' just kind of stands there for a moment, seemingly bored without response.

While Syrlya, still under invisibility, tries to grab Papyrus's arm and yank him back around the corner. He'll try to muffle his mouth at the same time.

He keeps his voice low:] I'm a friend, but be quiet.

[The silent and complete unacknowledgement from 'Sans' baffles Papyrus. He stares, unsure what to do or how proceed, until there's suddenly invisible hands grabbing at him.

Covering his mouth does little to muffle the sound of his voice; no lips are squished to distort the sounds, and there's too much space in his skinless jaws for sound to escape.

So he yelps when first grabbed, shooting a confused and betrayed glance at the inactive Sans, before making out what the voice is saying.]

Huh?! I'm not friends with any ghosts???

[Compared to the yelp, his voice is lowered. But... stage whisper, that carries at least 10 feet, is about the quietest Papyrus gets.]

Shh. [Oh, god, this is the worst. Syrlya waves a hand , re-casting the invisibility to cloak Papyrus in it as well. It makes Syrlya clear as day for him to see, now, giving him a stern expression.]

I've something very important and troubling to tell you, but I need you to be quiet and listen to me. Can you do that?

[Panic is, absolutely, the thing he's trying to avoid here.]

[Papyrus jumps as the ghost suddenly appears. Though, it turns out, they're not even a ghost?? Sometime to ask about later. For the moment, there's a question to answer.]

I can be very quiet!

[At least an ordinary speaking volume. He zips a hand over his mouth, closes it, and nods a more-silent emphasis.]

[Syrlya really wishes he had a silencing spell right now.

He leans around the corner to peer down the halls--they do need to get to the hunt soon, and he knows he doesn't have much time to emphasize the seriousness of this. But this is Sans's brother and... if it's family, he probably deserves to know.

Besides the fact that Syrlya absolutely sucks at pretending to be Sans for an extended period of time.]

My name is Syrlya, I am one of the nightrunners for the carnival. [Introductions first, because he can't recall them having any actual conversation together and... well, he doesn't look like a servant but it's good to be clear.]

The Warden is missing, among others. [He holds his hand up regardless if Papyrus starts making noise to remind him to stay quiet.] We are going to find them, but we need everyone else to remain calm and abide by the rules while we look for a solution.

[In this world, the introduction's a little needless; the Prince's obssession with a certain image of humankind means the servant here are rather uniform in appearance. Outfits and proximity to human both. Syrlya may not have many fae changes, but he's far enough from that template for Papyrus to instantly believe him.

At the raised hand - and confirmation that Sans is missing - Papyrus holds his mouth closed with both hands. A slight whine gets out anyway, but it's well below the threshold of noise Syrlya's making. He waits until he's sure Syrlya's done speaking, then loosens his grip.]

So... nobody knows where he went?

No. What we do know is that they went missing after breaking rules--and that includes curfew.

[He lowers his hand.] The nightrunners are aware and we are looking for them, but we need everyone else to remain calm and abide by the Prince's limitations in order to do so.

[Because, really, it's a lot harder to seek out missing people when you're also having to babysit everyone else.

Earnestly:] We will retrieve your brother, but I ask you not to alarm anyone else about this until we are able to speak with everyone during the free hour. [He glances down the hall briefly.] Privately, where the Prince will not find out what we are doing.

Why would he...? That rule-breaking jerk!

[Papyrus manages to keep his voice down, only because he grinds his teeth and switches to a more manual expression of his anger. Hands and arms flail about in practiced motions. After a couple breaths, he slows, then drops them.]

...Well, that is... not great news! But I won't panic. I'm sure you can retrieve them! And... I'll continue not going out at curfew, oh my god.

[Down the hall: that servant slightly bows, an arm outstretched to indicate which way the loiterers should walk. Whichever carnival workers were late to leave appear at the door. It's time to walk and talk, lest they be overheard.]

[Oh, thank the Mother. Syrlya's gaze drifts aside as he starts to see figures exit the dinning room--and then he nudges Papyrus to start moving back into the hallway. The illusionary Sans is gone.]

Thank you. We will not be leaving our comrades behind.

I believe the... hunt is next. [Hopefully it buys them time.] Let's not be the last to make it there.

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⇨ HEARTSTONE MANOR

Syrlya | OTA

170-172

Drinks and Cards

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173

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