⇨ FOURTH WALL EVENT! (OPEN TO ALL)

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone and the 4th Wall Visitors!
When: Day 175
Where: Heartstone Manor
What: THE 4TH WALL BALL BEGINS! This is where unapped visitors can post and roleplay. Please read the rules and setting info below. For more information and visuals refs, read this. Questions can be asked over here.
Warnings: Individually marked! Could be a lot of things.

THE GRAND BALL↴ Heartstone Manor is a giant, spooky castle floating in the middle of a twilight filled void. It is the home of a Wyld Fae calling himself The Prince - and despite his name, he is a bestial creature crammed into a gentleman's clothing, completely obsessed with replicating the ideals of old timey human society, much like the 1800's. The Prince and his many servants all dress in a manner appropriate to to the 1500's - 1800's, and decorum and beauty are held sacred above all else. All the workers of the carnival are currently staying there, in the hope of enabling a successful diplomatic venture between the Ringmaster and the Prince. The Grand Ball is being thrown by the Prince to honour these guests, but his manner of doing this is going to come as a bit of a surprise. THE RULES↴ Powers are all partially nerfed for 4th Wallers. They can be used in small to moderate ways for the sake of RP and narrative flavour, but 4th Wallers shouldn’t generally be using any powers in a super disruptive manner. No using powers for fighting with NPCs (yet), causing general chaos, or otherwise making your character a burden to the Prince. If they try, they’ll find themselves unable to do so. Your character isn’t sure how they got here but they think they’re okay with it. Your character won’t remember how they were captured by the Prince at the start of the ball. They’re just kind of here and in formal wear, and something tells them it’s probably fine to just enjoy the ball. They are wrong. In-game characters won’t initially remember how they all ended up at the ball either thanks to a temporary amnesia effect, but they will be able to be concerned about the fact that other people (possibly people they know) have shown up, and the fact that those other people are probably the Prince’s captives. Weren’t they doing something else at the castle before this, though? It’s hard to remember. This is all very confusing. 4th Wall character who aren’t apping in were possibly never the real deal in the first place. There are a mixture of genuine captives and spooky replications created with magic – this is to provide some flexibility regarding 4th wall character’s states in game, as well to allow more than one of each character to be played. If there are multiple people playing the same character, then whichever one has an app accepted will have been the real one. No doubles of in game characters. (Taken list here.) No AUs, no CRAUs, and nothing else besides characters that have full source canons or are original characters/fandom OCs with no bearing on the canon plot. If you tag in with a character who breaks these rules we reserve the right to remove them. THE SETUP: 4TH WALLERS↴ With incredibly foggy memories of their recent past, your character will find themselves at a grand ballroom dance, filled with a mixture of normal humans and odd looking humanoids that have strange features like wings, horns, tails, fur, and the like. They have vague memories of being dressed for the occasion, but are not sure by who or why. Most disturbingly, they will find that, at first at least, they don’t really care about the details. It seems like a pleasant event, doesn’t it? Why not enjoy it. This effect is definitely some kind of mind control, so you can feel free to have your characters be a bit confused and conflicted about it. Ultimately, they have been charmed to participate in the dance, so they will feel like riding the wave is the best thing to do even if that wouldn’t normally be their cup of tea. If your character has resistances to some forms of mind control, they are still overruled in this circumstance. They may discover people they recognize (castmates) or even duplicates of themselves (somehow?), and these can all be treated as canonly occurring and played out as such. This event is canon for Lost Carnival, so it should be played seriously and respectfully – not that silly shenanigans aren’t also bound to happen. All characters are required to dress in formal attire appropriate to a period area – specifically anywhere from the 1500s to 1800s. The Prince prefers if people are heteronormative in their clothing choices, but if you want you can probably get away with your ladies wearing suits or men wearing dresses as long as they look presentable otherwise. THE SETUP: MANOR GUESTS↴ You find yourself at the Grand Ball without really remembering how you got here. The last few days are a foggy blur, and though you can remember some of the important stuff you were dealing with, it will feel less important right at the start. Of course, as the night goes on, memories of how the carnival reached this event will become more and more clear – as well as the inevitable worry and stress that comes with it. For most people, there will have absolutely no memory of anything that happened after the morning of Day 175. Did the boating trip ever happen? Possibly not. Even as the night progresses, they will still have no recollection of how most of Day 175 went, which is probably disturbing. The Mod has contacted those that are exceptions to this privately to tell them what they will remember. The people lost to the Manor’s security earlier in the week will be here too, but not as guests. In fact, all of them will be dressed in the black attire of a Heartstone Manor servant and will seem pretty okay with that fact. There are parts of them that look changed – and their dispositions are definitely one of them. How else could they possibly be working for the Prince now? Updates to the event situation will be posted down in this section below. People can react to these posts as the circumstances change, and may new top levels based on them. It is possible to try to sneak away from the ball, but Manor Security will be trying to hunt you down. There is no mandatory outcome planed to this event, so character decisions can and will have a major effect in where the plot goes from here. THE ACCOMODATIONS↴ MUSIC AND DANCING: There will be music playing the whole night, and most of it is so good you feel practically compelled to dance to it. It's possible to resist, but why would you want to do that, you party pooper? FOOD AND DRINK: There are circle tables set up with fine silverware, and upon sitting down you will soon have a waiter come back to ask for an order. You can request basically any European cusine and it will be made for you. You will also be given drinks, most of which are alcohol, no matter your age. Fae don't care about children. BALCONY STARGAZING: There are balconies that are connected to the ballroom in multiple locations that you can step out onto to get some fresh air. You'll see the courtyard of the Manor down below you, but everything beyond that is black, as if the castle is floating within a twilight void. (Because it is.) One small change is that there are stars out tonight, probably added to the sky for the occasion. ALL NIGHT LONG: The ball will go on far into the early morning. Or, at least, until everyone fucks it up.

Comments

SANS | LC PLAYER | THE WARDEN (???)

[osteothropy]

Sans is back, and a lot has changed in three days.

The most obvious difference is that now he's coming in ostensibly working for the enemy team - and apparently enjoying it?

It's the first time anyone will have seen him in non-illusion form since Day 172, and he's reentered in an impossibly nonchalant manner. He'll first be seen entering alongside a few members of the Manor's security team, a set of animated suits of armor that have been seen a few times during everyone's stay. He's decked out in a new black military uniform instead of the regular formal wear he'd been sporting before, and he has a sword on his hip despite the fact that Sans has never used a sword in his life. Even when he thought he was an angel, he'd used a scythe, and otherwise Sans has almost always rolled full mage in combat.

Yet, his clothing and entourage aren't the only things different. Alongside his regular faerie changes and the seven eyes he gained from Portland, his long tail has developed something resembling a scorpion's stinger on its end, coated with a layer of stone and sharp barbs that extend up his tail and into his uniform. In fact, rough stone seems to have overtaken his bones in multiple other places, most visibly on his hands and legs, as if the skeleton has become partially petrified.

Somehow, though, he doesn't seem upset at all about this turn of events. It makes it almost impossible to imagine where he's been this whole time, or what happened to him. The aspect of him now that speaks most clearly is the look he'll cast his former coworkers - a gaze of vague malevolence and scrutiny. He may be smiling, but there's nothing friendly about it.

Just don't step out of line, and maybe he won't have to show you how unfriendly he can be.

[espigeon]

"Beg pardon! I know you're on duty, but could I interest you in a cocktail weenie all the same?" Julien proffers a tray with tiny sausages speared by toothpicks. They almost certainly aren't called cocktail weenies, but this sounds funnier.

His smile is perfect, brightly subservient, but one of his palps is wipe, wipe, wiping the side of his face, and he's watching in all directions.

[osteothropy]

Sans stares at him, all seven eyes half-lidded, before eventually reaching out and taking one. He throws the whole thing into his jaw, toothpick and all.

"Kissing my butt isn't gunna get you anywhere, you know," he says. "In fact, I don't even have one."

[espigeon]

He casts his human eyes down after a second or so, his palps still fussing, but the other eyes, hovering in the air around him or stuck to his livery, don't move or close, and his hand with the tray stays steady.

"I know. The master's butt is so much nicer, anyway! But you should eat while there's food." A couple of forwards-facing eyes close and disappear. Others open to let him see in more directions. "We all should."

He's pretty sure Sans hates him, and he should, but in a way this is better than the benign bewilderment of those foolish carnies. Not as good as serving the new guests, of course, but duty can't all be light.

[textsfromhotland]

It's Sans! And. Well. Alphys has never been the best at reading people, but he may as well be wearing a bright neon sign that says WORRY. Part of her- okay, most of her- wants to leave well enough alone, but Sans is sort of a friend, so she feels compelled to at least try and figure out what's up.

"S-s-Sans, h-hey! I haven't seen you in a while!" She stammers. She's pretty sure she hasn't seen him in a while, at least. What'd she do yesterday? "I guess you've been busy with your, uh, w-warden duties?"

[osteothropy]

As his eyes fall on her, it really only gets more worrying. It's not a look that someone like Alphys would be accustomed to getting from him. There is a latent note of viciousness that he's only ever reserved for very specific individuals.

"More like my warden duties got busy with me," he says, leisurely. His scorpion-ended tail twitches behind his legs. "Did you seriously not notice? I thought you were more observant than that."

[textsfromhotland]

Alphys flinches as if he physically struck her. Immediately her first line of thought is he's right, and this isn't any of her business and she ought to say sorry and scurry off to a corner somewhere. But there's something wrong here and she knows it.

"You, uh, you look... d-different! Is that a new tail?"

[otoko]

Now.

That's strange indeed. He'd assume it was a matter of chosen outfits, except something nags at the back of his mind, something about a disappearance, or....

Ah yes. Just as his arm is gone, so too, was Sans, during the Hunt. And before the hunt, for that matter. Gongenzaka trots near to him, but finds himself slowing as he spies...the look. The expression on the other's face, the way the tail-different, he realizes-moves behind him....

And Gongenzaka swallows, but finds himself approaching nonetheless. Why is there a sword there, why is there...so many of these things...

"...Sans?" he asks somewhat cautiously, giving a bow of greeting.

[osteothropy]

"Keep moving, kid," he says, both easy and sharp. He doesn't move from his position near the wall, a hand on the hilt of his weird sword. "There's nothing for you over here, is there?"

[otoko]

"....There is you," he answers honestly, ears drawing back in confusion. "....You were gone for some time...were you not?" he adds, blinking for a few moments. Confused-dazed, even, as he tries to make sense of how much time has actually passed.

"....Just what happened to you?"

[dorkypantsuit]

Sans. When the Psionic first spots him he just stops. There's this cheesy cliche you see in romance movies all the time. A woman enters a room and the protagonist looks at her. The cameras zoom in on their faces, showing expressions of both shock and interest. They need to meet. It's love at first sight. This moment is the complete opposite of that. Sans and the Psionic aren't two lovers. This isn't the first time they've met. Yet just as those cinematographers manage to suggest, when their eyes meet the rest of the world fades away. There is absolutely no one else the Psionic sees. There is not one else to look at. In this moment the only people are Sans and Psi. It's absolutely terrifying.

He's wanted to see Sans for days. Now he has and it isn't right. He needs to know what's happened and to do that he needs to speak with Sans. Still he hesitates, afraid. Knowledge brings with it danger. If the Psionic stays ignorant he stays safe. That's what his instincts tell him, but he knows turning off the lights doesn't make the rest of the room go away. Being in the dark doesn't fix anything, it just lets you forget to be afraid. So he moves forward, cutting through the crowd, and soon he finds himself in front of their warden.

"Sans."

[osteothropy]

Sans's intent behind that look is probably very different from Psi's. He has no sense of urgency for Psi's approach, though he watches him the whole way. Just sit back and let it come. It's a lot easier not to worry about things when you've assured yourself its no longer any of your business.

"Can I help you?" he asks, though it's pretty clearly just hot air. He has no intention of being helpful what so ever.

[dorkypantsuit]

He doesn't actually know how to respond to that. He's almost starting to find the hopeless absurdity of this situation funny, but laughing is probably not the response Sans is looking for.

"Can you?" he asks instead, a weak mockery of a smile on his face. He honestly doesn't know the answer to that question. Maybe Sans is just pretending. Maybe he's just playing a trick on the Psionic instead.

[chronosynthesis]

It doesn't make much to realize Sans isn't just wallflowering--and his hazy recollection of the missing people probably isn't 'oh, here they are, they're okay'.

He draws himself away from the crowds enough to stand close to the wall that Sans is at. He rests his back against it and folds his arms, barely containing his own frustration as he watches the crowd before slowly sliding his gaze to Sans--and giving him a once over.

"It does not suit you, I'm afraid." That uniform.

[osteothropy]

"Everyone's a critic, huh?" he retorts, a couple of his eyes moving out of sync to glance at Syrlya with casual disinterest. That may seem creepy, but it's not actually new to antagonistic attitude, Sans just happens to already have creepy in spades.

His expression seems to beg 'just give me a reason, buddy.'

[chronosynthesis]

That.... is creepy, but Sans isn't what worries him as it all this. Right now he isn't stepping out of line, so he has no reason to fear security. He's dazed, uncertain, and aware that acting like this would be, in a word, unwise.

Instead he only shrugs holding his gaze to Sans's eyes. "Apologies, I suppose that was too blunt. I must admit, this was not how I was expecting us to find you."

[pipers_son]

Honestly, one of the things that had snapped Joker out of his quiet panic against the wall had been the appearance of familiar faces in the crowd. At first, it'd been relief, just to know that everyone is still there, that Celebration hasn't happened again.... But then, the more he'd watched, the more he'd begun to pick up all the changes.

Sans, he thinks, is the worst.

Him and Sans aren't true friends. It's funny, because people would think they'd be great at it. A pair of relaxed guys with a sense of humor. That's a fit, right? At the same time, there's more than that which they share.... and Joker thinks it's the things left unsaid that keep them circling around each other but never meshing. Still, even with that, they've worked alongside each other for a good couple of years, now. Joker can tell when something is amiss.

...But he doesn't approach immediately. Instead, Joker stays to the side, focusing on his breathing, on keeping his smile in place, on watching. He watches people approach Sans, and he watches them be rebuffed, although what the conversations are exactly aren't things he can pick up at this distance. Too much party chatter, too much music. Finally, when he thinks he can interact with another person without falling back into the twitchy panic that Celebration has scared him with, he starts to walk over.

"Cheers, mate," he says, voice as steady and light as anything. Even when he's like this, he can still pull up the mask without even thinking. It's instinct, habit, as natural as breathing. Joker's eyes sweep over the tail and new sword. "Yer lookin' sharp, I have ta say."

[osteothropy]

Sans's grin sharpens as Joker approaches and speaks, not even looking down at his tail or sword to process the pun. Oh, he gets it all right. It's the exact sort of thing calibrated to appeal to him, to be chummy. The exact kind of lie that Joker would spin, and has been spinning, for as long as he's known him.

"Really? You're gunna pull that schtick with me, even now? If I didn't know any better I'd think you had sociopathic tendencies."

There's an edge of open disgust, allowed out in the open. A level of outright resentment that Sans would never have willfully expressed on his own.

[pipers_son]

Well.

Joker's smile doesn't budge, for the same reason that it hasn't been budging for the past half hour (or however much time has passed, who even knows). When the chips are really down, he's only ever had two methods of dealing with it, and the nasty parts of him he refuses to let out. Not in a place that refuses to warrant it, not against a coworker that doesn't.

So Joker keeps smiling. It's that or he breaks down, and he doesn't want to end up in a tree again.

Or worse. Memories of smiles and blood and cold burning iron tell him it could be worse. (That no Fae would keep iron in their own fortress would be the logical thought right now, but he's barely working on that.)

"Cor, I can't even make a pun now?" he says. "I always thought ya had a sense of humor." So if he doesn't, even now, then something is wrong, something is wrong, something is- He breathes in, slow and deep, and tells himself to keep functioning.

[dontpokethat]

That's... that's more than a little worrying.

Granted, most things about this are at least slightly worrying, but this is kind of on another level.

As hesitant as he is, Ginko does eventually approach Sans, forcing himself to keep from fidgeting too obviously with his clothes. He can only imagine that letting it be clear just how uncomfortable he is with all this will make things worse.

"Sans? Are... you doing alright?"

[osteothropy]

Sans just raises his brow with a mild amount of scorn. He remains otherwise unmoved.

"If you're really that curious, why'd it take you so long come over and check? What if it was an emergency?"

Is he joking? It's not clear.

[dontpokethat]

"Uh... sorry. Just trying not to make a scene." He tries to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible, and it... sort of works? A little bit. It is, at least, not overwhelmingly obvious how uncomfortable he is.

"But that doesn't really answer my question."

[spaghettimonster]

Having seen a couple of previously-missing people here as servants, Papyrus is a little less worried. It's not all 'vacations', or even the actual vacations back to their homes that people return from. Apparently trading contracts to work for other fae is an option, one that Rin took up. And so, okay, to each their own. Papyrus would rather see the new scenes than be stuck in a single castle for a long time, given the choice. But Sans... Sans hates neatness and punctuality and everything this Prince guy seems to care about. It's a terrible fit.

...Just as terrible a fit as that expression.

He stops and stares at the person who looks like his brother. The rest of the changes are fine. There's nothing wrong with being a stone skeleton, or wearing a particularly fancy suit; Papyrus does those often enough. Even disappearing for hours or days without warning isn't unheard of, from Sans. But that expression. Even that angel hadn't looked this... contemptuous about everything.

Who is making all these fake Sanses? And why? There's probably better ways to find out, ways that won't cause a scene, but this is too much. Papyrus stomps his way over, stopping a few feet away to glare down at him.

"You're an even worse fake than the other one! Don't you know how to smile??"

[osteothropy]

Sans stares at him. He knows exactly who he is. There's no chance of him being an illusion, or an imposter, or anything else. He knows for a fact that Papyrus is not on his side, and isn't included in whatever the Prince's grand schemes will be.

He's part of the opposition. There's no grey area. Him being his brother doesn't matter, not in this new world of nihilistic pragmatism. Papyus and him didn't come together in a package deal, as much as that would have been sort of nice. He'd never had a chance to ask, even, and never would.

The conflict inside of him makes him confused, and the confusion makes him angry. There is one thing he feels like he could do, that would satisfy the Prince's goals, but yet... his eyes linger uncomfortably on Papyrus, and the meaning of what he would have to do spins through his mind. He knows what it would mean. Is it better? He doesn't know if it's better, what if it isn't, he-

"Turn around and walk away," he demands, with an edge of vicious impatience. It comes out before his mind has even settled on a plan of action, just falling out like there's no room for it in his head.

His gaze lingers on Papyrus, his body still, besides the twitching of his barbed tail.

[spaghettimonster]

Papyrus goes still at the demand. It's like giving a report to Undyne when she felt particularly murderous, with her dropping curt, dismissive instructions at him. But, like Lambert reminded him a little while ago, Papyrus doesn't work for Sans. Let alone fake Sans.

"What?! And leave you here, glaring and scaring people, ruining the party with your..." He gestures at Sans' face, and weapon, and overall appearance. "Don't be absurd! I don't have any reason to do what you say."

If he had a tongue, he would be sticking it out. He settles for crossing his arms and frowning, legs pointedly not moving.