lostcarnival | ⇨ FOURTH WALL EVENT! (OPEN TO ALL)

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⇨ FOURTH WALL EVENT! (OPEN TO ALL)

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.

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He can't count how many times he's been on this balcony this evening with tray in hand and a selection of made up drinks and appetizers assorted with tiny napkins. He's almost pushed about four or five people off already. The malice and ill mannerisms he had shown his former co-workers was getting progressively worse.

He knows there is a human soul nearby and not within the party. Suffice to say he's waiting for him to come back down from wherever he went and that serene smile is plastered all over his face as if he'd love nothing more than to catch someone doing something wrong.

"Needed air?" is his gentle comment even if it was more along the lines of 'were you trying to escape?'

It's taken who knows how long, but Joker thinks he can finally think straight... Whatever that might mean right now with his head still full of fog and half-woven memories. This is Celebration all over again, he thinks, but things are different, this time. Now it's not him that's bound in chains and a sickness woven through his being. Now he can do something.

What? He hasn't a clue. But he knows there's someone who might be able to, or at least figuring her out will give him an idea of how screwed they all are.

The air outside is starting to make his feathers want to prick up, so he swoops back around and down to the balcony. His feet are settling right on the railing when he hears that voice, and Joker pauses with a sharp cock of his head. Ah. He's seen Tyki around, although it had taken him a little bit for him to recognize considering his own panic and the other's aesthetic changes. Still, he knows him now, and Joker stares right into those eyes.

Jeez. Just as bad as Sans, although at least there's no sword, the mark of which is still spread along Joker's cheek in stone.

"Even a social type needs a bit of space now and again," he says lightly, not mentioning that he was just casually having a mental breakdown. Joker doesn't tell things like that even to the ones he loves. Those who view him as an enemy? Definitely not. "I can't say I was expectin' so many people for this."

There's hate and judgement in his eyes as he stares at Joker. The vulpine smile was full of wicked play and he knows that if Joker was trying to escape he would love nothing more than to report him right now. Unfortunately he can't just make bold claims and Joker's story is good enough for a cause of misuse of his own job.

"You weren't? Did you honestly think that only you would be the guests of this manor? It's large and rather accommodating for someone as powerful as he is."

There's not much more to that insult as his eyes focus on Joker's face and he pauses enough to briefly mull over conflicting thoughts in his head and he reaches up to hover his hand against the side of Joker's face. He doesn't touch though. He would never touch such filth, "Does it hurt?" It's a veiled question considering the fact that right now he might enjoy it if it did.

Smoothly, Joker quirks up an eyebrow and doesn't stop smiling. "Oh, clearly," he says, voice light. Right, right, small talk, bullshit to fill the air. He can do this. The more he talks, the more it comes back to him. There's still bubbling nausea in the pit of his stomach, but if he just keeps talking, he can ignore it. "Still, I think we both know that information wasn't widely spread about, now, was it?"

Hopefully, at least. Sans had clearly held memories of all the nonsense that they'd all gone through, so, whatever is going on, Joker is... fairly confident that it's not a complete write over of memories, or personalities.

There's not a twitch of movement as Tyki raises his hand; Joker is pretty sure that he won't be attacked. At least, not like this, not by Tyki of all people. If Sans didn't, after all, he doubts anyone in a more serving roll will. At the question, Joker makes his smile all the brighter. This may be to piss the other man off, although he imagines anything might for how their kidnapped own are now.

"I don't even notice it~." It's not even a lie. He'd barely noticed it when Sans had actively stabbed him. Adrenaline, hysteria, and god knows what else have been playing havoc in his system. Later, he imagines he'll never stop noticing it.... but that's for later.

Staying on the balcony only made him a larger target and thankfully for the sake of everyone his attention was entirely on Joker. Later on he could understand needing room to breathe. Joker would easily find him hiding in the rafters of the big top or trying to isolate himself in his water tank where it was quiet and he could sulk. "No, you were correct. That was a need to know basis and none of you really needed to know."

He doesn't turn his attention away as his hand finally does touch to let his gloved thumb stroke over the stone. It's not admiration as much as it was closing uncomfortable gaps and he was delighted to see it on this pretty face. It's a mark of failure as much as a mark of disgust.

Yet fingers twitch and his hand pulls away when Joker doesn't give the reaction he wants. It does serve to piss him off and he'll lower his hand down to his side, "Just as you like didn't notice I had even disappeared until it was far too late."

Ha. He knew that would work. Joker's eyes glitter a little as that hand falls away, triumphant behind everything else that makes up his mask. He's smiled through worse than this. So long as he lasts a little longer...

Well, it might not do anything in the end. But he won't give anyone any satisfaction in his fear. Not anymore. Not if he can help it.

"I think the only way any of us would have noticed fast enough," he says lightly, leaning against the railing, "is if we could've seen the future and stopped it from happenin'. As it is, Childermass noticed pretty quick, I'd say."

He knows that look. He's seen it dozens of times by now. He hates it as it only fuels the rising malice within himself towards the other. Tyki does not enjoy it as he is right now. The smiles, the falseness and tease all serve to make him angry.

His hand is up again with a soft motion against Joker's chest and it rests there with fingers curling into fabric. Joker is aware of his power and how easily he could reach inside and harm. He wants him to fear. Tyki wants him to hurt most of all out of everyone here.

"He noticed only because I had broken my own rule, Mister Joker. Otherwise the poor brooding man might not have noticed until far later when I suddenly couldn't be at his beck and call."

That hand settles so very neatly against his chest, a perfect fit, and Joker knows it could fit a lot better slipped inside his chest and wrapped around his heart. This, he knows, is a distinct threat.

But then, this entire conversation- all the conversations with the ones who've been taken- is a gamble.... and he's always had a good pokerface. Besides, if threat was what Tyki was meant for, he'd be with Sans and the metal crew. Hopefully, it's only the bluff he thinks it is.

If it's not, well. Then he won't have to attend this god awful party, at least. That's a plus.

"You sure like changin' the croquet hoops about, don't ya," he says, tilting his head to the side almost coyly. "Makes it easier, I imagine, don't it?"

The only advantage Sans had over everyone else is that he was allowed to hurt and maim as he pleased to prove a point and enforce security. Thankfully for Joker this was not the case for Tyki. If an attack happened against him he would likely react regardless out of pure hate. Being punched would receive a punch. Being manipulated mentally would result in aggression. The fact Joker was so calm infuriated him.

He should be reacting and yet he was not. Joker could just feel the way he was gripping that fabric a little harder with a faint twitch to his fingertips. Even if he's not allowed to let it be known he wants to.

"You should know as well as anyone that I play to favor and my hand is always loaded with the best results." He's not showing emotion just yet as Joker starts showing his hand as well, "Extremely. The Prince offered me a better hand and I took it. I enjoy nothing more right now."

He shouldn't get too cocky. Joker knows this. Once you start feeling like you're on top of the world, you're only going to get let down again and again. It's a lesson he's seen play out- that he's been a part of- repeatedly. Yet it's a little hard to not at least feel smug as those fingers twitch.

"Oh," he hums, eyebrows raising up, "is that what this is? Well, it wouldn't be the first deal with Fair Folk that any of us have made, I suppose." Even as he's saying it, however, Joker leans in. His chest leans further into that dangerous hand, a silent challenge, a quiet dare. The words that leave his mouth next come in a murmur. "So I guess it wasn't somethin' more forced on ya, then. Somethin' stuck in yer head without yer say-so, twistin' ya up inside. Hm?"

Maybe he's wrong. Joker would like to be wrong. Yet even now, with his breath back to normal in his throat, he can't help but be so damn sure of this being Celebration. Of it being Hell, down in the dark and heat, copper filling his nose. No matter how much he tries, the memories bear down on him heavier than concrete.

He can feel his fingers slide against his chest as that fabric bunches up with pressure from how Joker is just leaning in on his hand. He can practically feel that warm heart in his hand already as he practically dares him to take it. Joker will feel his digits close inwards as his fingers dig into his chest. The temptation is almost too much.

There's pause and the look on Tyki's face seems unchanged by his eyes flick back and forth across Joker's face as he listens. He worked in the carnival before. He got caught. The prince had arrived and after five long days and barely any sleep and practically no food he gave in. He longed to serve the prince now. He almost reveled in the fact that he got to. His mind is rationalizing every moment. It was his fault he got caught and his fault the Prince too control.

"Yes, that's exactly it. The prince gave me an offer... " He's getting more angry than he should right now. Even his smile is disappearing.

"Are ya so sure?" There it is, that upfront question. There are times to be more subtle, and times to toss that to the side. Judging by the way Tyki's face is losing that sharp and dangerous little smile...

Well, this is probably a horrible idea, but who better to test how far he can push and if his words mean anything?

(Anyone. Probably literally anyone. There is a giant fucking bird he could talk to.)

Yet here he is, tilting his head to the side with those sharp pink eyes watching the other man. Faintly, in the back of his mind, he wonders if he looks as strange as he feels devoid of all the things that usually make him so recognizable. Hair drawn back tight, no longer able to slide against his shoulders and back. Ears with nothing but tiny pinpricks along them, which isn't enough to make noise like the clink of earrings. Even his face feels too bare. It's stupid to think that any one of those would help make his case further, but, still. It'd help him feel more confident as he courts death, or worse.

His ears are sliding back further into his hair to the point he was clearly getting agitated and his smile disappears all together. His face is that of solid confusion at the question. It's making him think and he doesn't like it. Rage is taking over his features almost instantly and he slides his foot back in a brace like he doesn't want to answer the question. He wants to put some distance between him and Joker.

The other was being a cocky little shit and he wasn't going to take it anymore.

"Shut up," he commands as his hand gives a hard shove of Joker's chest. It's enough to push him back off the railing he was against given how rough and hard he could be when he barely held back his own strength. He had wings. He could fly and pick himself back up. It's the only reason why he does it at all. He wanted it to be made very clear that he could and would kill him if he had the option.

For a moment, Joker wonders if the other man is going to leave. Just storm off, a whirlwind of a bad mood in the middle of a party, or at least until he could get to whatever hiding spot servants (willing or not) had.

Clearly, he realizes as the railing digs into his wings and stone grinds against feathers, he's underestimated how infuriating he's been.

Then the passing second of discomfort is gone and air is rushing against his feathers, his hair, tugging at his clothes, and he's left staring at the bottom of the balcony. His first instinct is, indeed, to flare out his wings, and they twitch almost as if to do so.... but Joker bites down on it. Instead, he keeps them folded right at his back, and stares right above to where Tyki is.

Fine. See how much he really wants him dead, then.

So far he's managed to reign himself in to leave on a good note on every conversation he's had with a carnival member. This time he couldn't find the proper tone or words to get him to crack. Joker was more under his skin and messing with his convictions than he wanted to admit.

He's the enemy and he's not opening his wings. He shouldn't care and yet the damned fool was not opening his stupid wings. His hands are on the railing now and he doesn't realize how many steps he's taken forward to watch in satisfaction? No that isn't right. He's getting angrier by the second at this not going the way he planned. Those gloves grip tighter the further he falls and before he can stop himself there is a foot up on the railing. He's pushing himself over it in an instant. He falls fast and hard with the assistance of his power. It activates just as hard to reject the air under his feet as handfuls of Joker's coat are snatched up in both of his hands.

They are shaking in a fitful manner with a tight almost ripping grip. Where is he again? What is he doing?! Expressions from rage, confusion and concern dance over his face and he hates it.

One moment, he's free falling, wings trembling at his back and just waiting for the call to open before he cracks against the earth.

The next, his whole body jerks, gravity tugging his lower half down without stopping and the force of which drives all breath from his lungs. It's such a sudden change of force that he's dazed from it all. A good few blinks are required before reality orients itself properly and he can look up at the face that's not too far from his own. Brilliant pink eyes are wide as Joker looks up into those of the man he'd hoped would move but hadn't been sure would.

But he's here. Right there, holding his coat tightly, an absolute firestorm of emotions tearing across him.

With all of him hanging there in midair... Joker smiles. Wide and bright and glad.

"Cheers, Tyki Mikk."

His hands haven't stopped shaking. There's a momentary battle as they loosen and then tighten all over again until his grip was enough to turn his knuckles white underneath those gloves. He can't let go even as the rational thought starts to trickle back in. He is the enemy and he shouldn't care. He keeps repeating that over and over.

Still, he can't drop him. He's not allowed to kill. This is, no was, his friend. He's breathing a little hard as the sheer momentum of the situation and the rage of confusion catches up to him. It's like his entire brain has paused as he fights to rationalize the situation. He's angry yet his face is reading of sheer panic and confusion like a child needing to be consoled that what he did was right.

"Don't think.... that this proves anything." he breathes out harshly, "I simply cannot let you die."

"I know ya can't." The words don't leave him confidently, or cockily. Against the emotions that are twisting across that face and the way his hands shake from the force of it all, Joker can't quite find the mood. Instead... It's soft and assured, a confirmation of truth for both of them. Just- "But not for the reason ya think."

Probably, at any rate. Fae magic is a powerful and dreadful thing, exactly as all the stories ever said. Still, this wouldn't be the first time Joker has deluded himself with a fairy tale of his own. Tyki didn't rescue him because of any orders he might have been given.

Still, that's enough, he thinks, and Joker reaches up to press his hand against the curve of Tyki's face. With a hand made of wood, the gesture is even more delicate and gentle than it would be anyway. "Let's get back up there, yeah?" Somewhere Tyki can put his feet on solid ground and not look like so much shit.

The mask is gone and Tyki looks tired, worn and weak. He's hiding so much behind that serene smile as his hands continue to shake within his clothes. He can't stop the conflicting emotions threatening to shake his convictions but it just isn't enough. His mind is already trying to rationalize everything.

Yet he seems to calm at Joker's touch, his usual temperance and cheerful tones lost in the sudden position he's in, and they lift rather silently as Tyki's back is no longer awkwardly bent from the mere fact he can't bend his upper back at all.

Except when they reach the top to the point that Tyki can rest his feet on the balcony Joker will find himself roughly dropped onto the stone marble. Still shaking fingers grasp a napkin from his hanging pocket and he'll wipe his cheek as if mildy disgusted to be touched, "That's enough..."

Well, he didn't get dropped to his death again, so Joker considers that to be something of a win.

Perhaps it's even more than that, however. Even as his wings flare out to help him regain his balance, keeping him from sprawling against the ground at the sudden drop, Joker is still smiling. Straightening up, he smooths out his jacket. "Yeah," he says, casually agreeable for all that his grin is absurdly pleased. "I think it is." For all that this means that the Prince's magic isn't perfect, that there are cracks... It had taken Joker risking his life to see it for himself. Frankly, he's not sure how much further he could push when that's toeing the line as it is.

Still, it's enough for him and he steps forward again to let his hand rest gently and fleetingly against Tyki's arm. "But I'll be back," he promises, the glow of the party inside haloing around him and somehow making his already vivid pink eyes all the brighter in the shadow. "Wait for me, won't ya?" And with that, he's turning away again. Waking up in the middle of something so horrifically similar to Celebration... That'd shaken him, honestly. He'd wanted to run away, or curl into himself until he was nothing.

But this isn't Celebration, for all the similarities. He can still do something. There's still that chance.

So, with wings tucking in again, his shoulders held up straight, Joker dives back into the ball and smiles one last time to Tyki over his shoulder.

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⇨ FOURTH WALL EVENT! (OPEN TO ALL)

B/C/Because I'm cheating

wow rude i'm reporting you

they'll never take me alive

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