⇨ 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

[whattaprick]

For better or worse, Lambert's experienced Sans' teleportation before, so it's not as much of a shock as it could be. But being out of the way of the ball isn't going to work for what he needs. A distraction isn't much of a distraction if it isn't distracting anyone.

But he has other things to worry about. Thank fuck for witcher reflexes letting him twist out of the way and dance back towards the room, hand reaching to yank his own sword out of the scabbard at his hip with a hiss of fae-wrought metal as he holds it at the ready.

He doubts he'll get that lucky twice. And now there's a ballroom full of dancers to get through...

"Do you even know how to use that?" he taunts, raising his voice.

[osteothropy]

It's mildly frustrating that his first attack didn't work, there. He would have liked to just catch a knee straight off the bat. Oh well.

"Y'know, it's funny, I was always more of a spellcasting guy." He winks his right eye closed. "But what can I say? This sword has converted me."

A moment later Sans has disappeared and reappeared behind Lambert's back, swinging for a strike right down the middle as his tail stinger goes for the back of his knees.

[whattaprick]

This is, unfortunately, the trouble of dealing with someone who can seemingly teleport endlessly with no effort. Does he even run out of energy to do that? Lambert doesn't know. But it's quickly apparent he's going to need to do something to slow him down.

His sword flashes up in an arc of metal to block the swing, but the position leaves him unable to sidestep again -- his tail, however, is quicker to react than his mind, lashing out to try and block the stinger's path. Impressive as the golden scales are, though, they're not impervious to the sharp barb, and it cuts a gash into Lambert's tail as it's batted clumsily aside.

The cold, sharp sting and the sensation of stiffness is shocking, but Lambert can block off pain when he needs to. He's already using his free hand to cast a ring of purple sigils around them. With any luck, the magic trap can slow down Sans as Lambert breaks away, spinning back out in to the ballroom a few more paces, closer to the edge of the first (currently unoccupied) dining tables.

[osteothropy]

He does run out of energy eventually. Unfortunately, he'd never tell you that, and it probably won't be happening in the near future, anyway. At least not from teleporting.

Yet, as satisfying as it is to feel his stinger bite into flesh, no matter how briefly, the magic trap is enough to force him to rethink his strategy. He can feel the drag on him as he tries to leap into another spacial trick, and so instead he lifts his left hand and throws himself up into the air with a quickly cast gravity spell, landing on the empty table behind Lambert.

"Hey buddy, this way is off limits," he comments, less genuinely angry and more threatening. The intent is clear - come this way for an ass-kicking.

[whattaprick]

"Yeah?" Lambert can't figure out what that sting did to his tail from feel alone, but he doesn't want to risk taking his eyes off Sans right now, he just grins. The color's high in his cheeks, and he for the first time tonight, he feels like himself again, vibrant and alive.

Brainwashed or not, Sans should know better: telling Lambert not to do something is the fastest way to get him to do it.

He can't cast another spell so soon, but he has other options: like opening his mouth and letting another stream of fire blast out to light the table on fire and immediately darting forward into the cheerfully milling guests. Lambert doesn't intend to hurt anyone else, but he doesn't intend on making Sans's job easy!

[osteothropy]

Why I oughtta!

The flame whooshes over the table, and Sans disappears from its path, only to reappear in the crowd as Lambert runs. He first appears down close to the ground, whipping around his sharply edged tail and stinger at Lambert's knees, and then appearing straight above the Witcher's head the next moment only to try to drive the point of his sword into his shoulder.

Apparently Sans figured out how to work around that spell. All the same, it's infuriating to him that this is proving itself as difficult as it is, so far. It should have been simple - a cut to the legs, and then it's over.

From that moment onward, Sans will start trying to use the crowd to his advantage, disappearing in and out while trying to score cheap shots with his tail and sword. His teleportation is still slowed however, and it's throwing off his rhythm, and he can't disappear quite as quickly as usual after striking a blow, leaving him vulnerable.

[whattaprick]

Lambert never was interested in making anyone's life easy. The trouble with witcher magic is that it's distressingly simple, and he can only cast so many things at a time, meaning every time he can concentrate enough, he's forced to choose between setting off another magic trap underfoot or throwing up a shield as the fight takes them across the room. Their swords crash together with a noise that the ball only barely drowns out, and Lambert alternates trying to belch fire into Sans's face with setting even more of the tables on fire, a beacon that moves slowly across the room as they go.

Too slowly. It quickly becomes evident that something desperately needs to be done about that tail -- it's like sparring with two opponents with one sword. But fae make or not, his sword's not likely to cut through that tail right now. The witcher's putting up a good fight with sword (thank you, Vesemir) but he's already been unlucky enough to catch the tip of the stinger on the side of his stomach and gash with the sword one thigh, enough for him to see skin becoming stone around the edges of the wounds. If he slows down, he isn't going to be able to buy enough time for ...

For what? His memory's still slow to come back to him, every conversation he's had tonight flickering like paper-thin memories in his mind. All he knows is that somehow, this matters, keeping the former Warden occupied, making all the noise he can.

The next time the skeleton lashes out with his stinger, Lambert deliberately catches it with his tail, gritting his teeth as the poison sink into the limb. But it's as prehensile as Sans's is, with surprising strength, and with a roar of fury, he'll use his hold and attempt to yank Sans around and smash him into the dancefloor, disengaging and darting away again, half of his tail slowly freezing into a stone spiral.

[osteothropy]

Crack.

Sans's face hits the marble, shattering his short-lived satisfaction at having struck his target so deeply. His tail has been wrenched, wound up in kinks, as his cheekbone cracks against marble. It's so easy for them. It takes so little to damage him.

It hurts, and from the first moment, he can already tell that his bone has split by the deeply of blue ectoplasmic blood dripping down his cheek. He raises his hand to his face, shuddering as he can feel such a small injury rattle his entire body. He can tell then, despite it all, that Lambert wasn't trying to kill him. It didn't burn the same way.

Yet, what did it matter? No matter how much he'd been through, no matter how much power he gained, he was still weak compared to this human. No matter how many hits he got in, they would just keep going. It would never be enough.

The feelings of desperation and anger fill him as he scoops himself off the floor, determined to continue. He sees Lambert dashing through the crowd, moving towards the balconies - to escape? Surely not.

He won't let him. Another human is not going to escape him.

Gathering his magical power, he threads together a blue magical spell - he seizes control of the gravity surrounding Lambert, and brings it down violently. He intends to smash Lambert hard into the floor, to try to replicate the damage that Lambert had done so trivially. The energy congeals just before Lambert can reach the balcony doors, plowing downward as Sans teleports forward to meet him with a slashing sword.

[whattaprick]

With a sound considerably meatier than Sans's own impact, Lambert smashes against the Prince's expensive-looking floor as the weight of the spell slams down on him.

Stupid, careless -- he didn't know the Warden could do something like that, and the impact has him reeling, stars bursting across his vision. It's only decades of practice that keep him from dropping his sword on reflex, even if he's in no position to bring it up to block the monster's swing now.

He's so close. If he can just buy enough time to get up again--

Lambert's fingers twist against the ground, shaping the compulsion spell as he screams the command with all the force of will he can put behind it.

"Drop the sword!"

[osteothropy]

It's the magical equivalent of getting slapping in the back of the head. The compulsion never quite reaches his fingers the way it should - two separate brands of compulsion fighting for supremacy. There is already a magic ruling him, and it's far stronger than the Witcher's, forcing out his influence almost as soon as it began.

Of course, that doesn't stop him from fumbling the sword in his confusion, the handle slipping in his grip as he plunges it downward, awkwardly striking Lambert with the flat end instead of the point in a way that only slices clothing and a tiny amount of flesh if any at all.

The conflicting spells are more daunting than a single spell would have been, in some ways. Hunched over Lambert, he stares at his own hands in shock and confusion, before teleporting away again in an effort to get himself together.

It at least gives Lambert the opportunity to move.

[whattaprick]

And it's an opportunity Lambert is going to take. Ignoring the fresh growth of stone now blossoming out from the nick in his shoulder, he throws himself forward as soon as Sans is gone, grabbing the handles of the door and wrenching them open.

The rain comes roaring in through the open doorway, loud enough to interrupt the sound of the ball's music, if only for those close enough (and not addled out of their minds) to hear it. The water leaves Lambert's finery instantly soaked to the bone, but that doesn't seem to matter to him as he skids out onto the balcony, sword still in hand.

The Prince's courtyard below yawns wide below the balcony, inky darkness illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning that even witcher eyes can't see clearly. There's nowhere to run -- but then, by now, Lambert's done all the running he intends to.

[osteothropy]

It doesn't take long for Sans's mission to reassert itself. He was shaken for a moment, but the forces that compel him are more persistent than anything a Witcher could put out. He hears the balcony doors open, and all he can think is that he's losing his prey.

Thankfully, it's not hard to catch up.

Sans teleports himself out into the balcony before the door can even finish closing, flashing into the air as abruptly as the lightning bolts in the distance. Again, he brandishes the sword, aiming to strike Lambert deeply enough to render him helpless.

This human will not escape him.

[otoko]

Lambert won't escape, but it's exactly as planned. Lambert's done all the running he needs-and from the sides of the doors, the first of the three who lie in wait make their move. Gongenzaka rises from the shadows like a whale from the sea, massive and cloaked by the wet, pouring rain. He makes no sound-but he lunges, stretching out not the arm that would have reflexively come with it, but instead a multitude of vines.

A swarm of red and brown, all launching forward with a single-minded goal. To bind. A few, perhaps, aim specifically for Sans' sword arm. The blade is, no matter how little he knows about it beyond being a weapon, the biggest threat to Lambert's life. The rest of them however aim to coil Sans' body. Whatever they can wrap around, they'll do it, constricting until they can slam Sans into the ground (gently though, by Gongenzaka's standards-this isn't a murder attempt after all).

And once successful-if successful, for that matter, the taur-beast's great paw will be coming to rest upon the Warden, a final weight to keep them in place.

Gongenzaka says nothing.

His eyes speak for him, narrowed not with rage but if anything, warning.

[osteothropy]

No matter what's driving him, no matter what enchantment holds his mind - the feeling of being caught in Gongenzaka's vines is still one of absolute terror. They fooled him - they lured him into a trap - and without movement, someone like him? He's as good as dead. He may as well be dead right now.

He struggles as the vines start overtaking him, but he has little physical strength to protect him. The best he can manage is keeping his hand clamped around the sword, as if the rock covering his fingers has locked into place and frozen of its own volition. His eyes are wide as the rain begins soaking his clothes, his right arm pinned to his side while his sword arm still fights for some semblance of control.

This second collision with the ground shakes him, his face already cracking from the first once. There's too much weight on him, and it's already causing him to panic.

His tail twists and turns, aiming to puncture one of the vines - if he can, he can at least push the venom through it and into the body it grows from.

[periphrasing]

Peridot can't exactly help Gon with that tail, but she can and will get that sword out of the picture... whether Sans lets go of it easily or not.

If there's one thing to this plan's credit, it's that it sure has done it's job as a distraction. It would have been impossible for Peridot to miss the commotion going down as two of her fellow supervisors fought their way through the crowded party, and as soon as she saw who was involved, sheer panic had driven her to follow. She'd haphazardly ducked and weaved her way past the other guests, leading up to this exact moment when she too spills out onto the balcony and into the rain, in time to see Gon accosting Sans.

If she knew ahead of time that this was planned, that this is all part of some design of Lambert's, she might think twice about doing what she does next. But she doesn't know. So she does what any sensible person with metal powers would do upon seeing two of her friends apparently trying to murder one another: She removes their weapons from the equation. Thwp. Both Lambert and Sans's swords are wrenched from their graps, and come soaring through the air to hover in front of the gem's outstretched palm.

She looks between both sides, utterly confused and dismayed.

[whattaprick]

Witchers aren't used to getting backup, so when Lambert realizes he actually isn't alone in this fight, it catches him off guard just as much as Sans. He remembers, vaguely, a conversation in the ballroom connected to that, some promise of 'help.' It's just a surprise it's actually came through. Life usually disappoints him.

The interruption gives him a much-needed moment to breathe and collect his thoughts, pushing past the pain and the stiffness in his limbs. He steps toward Sans, with the full intention of wresting the sword from his hand and tossing it away while he's held down.

Except someone else beats him to the punch -- and twists his own sword out of his fingers in the process. He looks up, half-expecting to see the Prince himself hovering at the doorway -- that would be the best outcome in some ways, the worst in others -- but when he realizes it's just Peridot, he frowns.

"Get out of here!" he snaps. The words aren't just for her benefit, but for anyone else with no intention of going toe to toe with the Warden, too. Lambert knows what a trapped animal looks like when he sees one, and unless those vines also happen to be magic-canceling? He knows Sans isn't as helpless as he looks right now.

[bananaspeedrider]

But whether or not the warden causes significant enough petrification... would there be any other tricks left up in his sleeve after Yugo comes forward to grab at that tail- at the risk of getting stung himself but clearly trying it anyway?

"Oh no you don't... I got your back, Gon!"

Announcing his own presence doesn't help the element of surprise either, but no ever applauded Yugo for his strategic maneuvers. Or his sense of self-preservation. Also the accent around that decided nickname might sound funny.

are u saying he american accented that 'gon' omg

[otoko]

The sword goes flying-and Yuugo does as well, really. Things feel, to a point, to be moving in slow motion. But there is one thing that Gongenzaka is aware of.

One-he's been hit with something, and while he doesn't know how much, it's having some kind of effect. Two-the swords, both swords, are now in Peridot's hands (And why did Peridot have to show up- well, hopefully this works in their favor actually, but-).

"NNHH-! Peridot!" He has a feeling he doesn't have much time, but while still holding Sans down, he glances back. "Hide the blade from Sans..! Make sure you aren't seen with it..!" he adds, desperation in his tone. He grunts, however, and looks to where he was struck-looks to Yuugo, and Yuuya from there, and then back to Sans.

"Kh....I, the man Gongenzaka, am not your enemy, Sans...That hasn't changed..!" he hisses, tensing as he tries to keep from pushing down much more. He doubts it'll really help the situation-but at this point, there's little he can do. The most he can....is look to Lambert, wondering just what on earth comes next. If he lets Sans go, it's not going to go well.

But if he doesn't...

[osteothropy]

As Yuugo tries to dislodge Sans's stinger from Gongenzaka, it will lash out and sink a poison filled barb into his arm, writhing around in an attempt to push in deeper. With that as Sans's only physical weapon left, he's desperate to cause as much damage as he possibly can - like Lambert has observed, there is a wildness in him now that comes from having been pushed into a corner, far outside of his comfort zone. Gongenzaka's words barely affect him as the pressure of the vines inadvertently increases, straining his ribcage and spine.

God. This could kill him. They're going to kill him. It's all his mind can think of, going in circles, charmed to see these people only as threats. A low whine between his teeth gradually thickens into a yell of pain. The only thing sparing him is that Gongenzaka doesn't actually want to hurt him, despite everything.

Gongenzaka will suddenly find his vines throwing taut, as if Sans's form is growing too big for them to hold, the pressure increasing until, somehow, the vines start to snap and give way. Sans's bones grow in size and sharpness with a visceral crack, bones shifting and snapping into new configurations, as his claws lengthen and his skull starts to contort.

It's the only way he can save himself, he thinks. Before his bestial form can truly begin to take shape, he summons down a storm of magical bones to match the ferocity of the rain itself, piercing the stone of the balcony and sending large cracks through its structure. From somewhere up above, a gaster blaster will send a laser beam tearing down through the center of the group, and the balcony is torn from the building.

FIGHT CLUB

[whattaprick]

As the skeleton's form swells and grows, Lambert snaps his attention back to Sans. He doesn't know if the others here recognize what he's doing, but Lambert does, and while it's what he's been aiming for this whole time? It also comes with a whole lot more collateral damage than he anticipated.

"RUN!" He shouts -- snarls -- as he lunges forward, wet cloth tearing and rippping apart as the spell overtakes him, but it's not fast enough to beat the laser coming down to break the stone apart. As suddenly as the bony wolf tore through the vines, there's also suddenly a golden dragon that seems to appear out of nowhere, its weight slamming into the torn-off balcony.

The cacophony is deafening, and there are a handful of people now rather abruptly subject to the inevitable tug of gravity (some more than most). Claws gripping into stone, the beast's head shoots out, snake-like, and teeth grab at the clothes of the nearest falling body to blindly throw whoever he's gotten a hold off back towards the manor.

Sorry, Yuya. This probably wasn't what you signed on for.

That's the last thing he can think of doing. The next thing he does is push off the balcony and leap towards the courtyard. He can't fly (or rather, hasn't figured out how) and he can't teleport, but he can clumsily glide to the ground, landing on all fours and roaring challenge.

TO THE COURTYARD

[osteothropy]

Sans is ready for the fall, and he could just teleport himself to the ground - instead, however, he sees that Lambert is shifting too, and immediately thinks to take advantage of his weak flying. His own set of wings emerge, the angelic light a rusted brown rather than golden, and he swoops up into the air, spinning around to aim straight for Lambert's back.

Wasting absolutely no time, and before he's even truly finished transforming, he is plunging himself into Lambert's back as the dragon glides towards the courtyard, digging in teeth and claws in his best effort to cause the other to violently plummet. His tail will also try to curl around the other tightly, making a go at stabbing him in the belly.

[periphrasing]

So much happens in just a short few seconds, it's enough to make a person's head spin. First Peridot is getting shouted at by Lambert (a guy who has NO ROOM to be telling her what to do or where to be, considering the situation he's gotten himself into), then she's getting shouted at by Gon... And then there's magic bones falling from the sky like rain, and lasers, and the freakin' balcony collapses.

She barely gets out of the way of Sans's spell in time, flinging herself aside with a yelp as the balcony shakes and crumbles underneath them all. With her concentration broken, both swords go tumbling down to the courtyard along with all the other rubble. She doesn't have time to worry about them; her attention is monopolized with the effort of ensuring she doesn't drop like a brick down to the courtyard grounds. There's a flash of pale green light as her bat form makes an appearance, not for the first time during this horrible stop.

Up or down... to Peridot, there's barely even a choice. Sans and Lambert are both still trying to tear each other to bits (when the heck did Lambert learn to transform himself into a dragon, thinks the gem who now has a similar trick up her sleeve), and she's too concerned about them both to turn tail and head back upstairs.

Another flash of light, another change, and there's a second dragon in the courtyard. It's hardly the debut that she had in mind for her new, bigger and badder form, but this is also exactly the kind of situation that had lead her to ask the Ringmaster to teach her this spell in the first place. She needs size on her side, right now. SIZE WILL MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER, RIGHT?

Peridot has been flying as a bat long enough that flying as a dragon isn't entirely unfamiliar territory. She tucks her wings in and drops after them both, snatching with her talons at Sans's tail and flapping furiously to pull back and try and keep him from stabbing Lambert in the gut.

"What-- are-- you-- both-- DOING!?!" she howls against the rain.

[whattaprick]

Sadly, Peridot's not getting an answer, because Lambert isn't really here right now.

Certainly, the witcher's mind is intact, but shapeshifting is an odd thing, heightening animal senses, and it takes leaving some human element behind. Witchers aren't made to use that much magic, and if it was anything but a fae spell, Lambert probably never would have managed to learn it in the first place. So much of his concentration has to go into just maintaining this form to begin with -- practicing with Sans, the most he'd been able to manage was five minutes at a time, and that's already a significant improvement up from being able to hold it only a minute. How long he'll be able to hold it now, he doesn't know, but the answer is almost certainly 'as long as he can,' clinging to the bestial form it gives him as long as he can manage.

While Peridot shrieks at them both, Lambert has other things on his mind, like stopping this descent before Sans crashes them into the courtyard proper. He only has enough presence of mind to banksharply, meaning instead of planting face-first into the ground, he manages to veer towards and slam into one of the walls surrounding the courtyard. He lands spread-eagled, claws puncturing into the stone to grip onto the side of the building, and immediately shakes himself violently, aiming to fling Sans off. Not a lot you can do with something on your back, so time to take care of that pest first!

Upstairs Crew!

[betheman]

"NGHH- HAUUHHHH!!" Well. Shit. Once the vines started to tighten of course, he was worried. Something wrong was happening, and the growth, the sharpness...it was pushing at the vines, pulling them apart until he finally forced himself to let go with a yelp.

And even that was too late. All he has for his warning is sound, the sound of something abruptly whistling in the air as a rain of bones coming downward. Gongenzaka leaps for his friends before the laser strikes-but by the time he can grab them with arm and vine, the balcony is crumbling, crashing down beneath bone and magic alike. "HOLD ON!" he's shouting-and some of his vines snap from the already existing strain created between Sans' transformation and the earlier petrification. As many as he can muster are sent to latch onto now useless edges of rail, crumbled sides of balcony that still exist somehow. They reach for what he can, and who he can-but he cannot, in the end, grab them all.

Yuuya was too far-but with wide eyes his one good arm reaches out as a flash of red catches his eye. He didn't realize the Nightrider could do that, he thinks dully, Lambert's words echoing as they're replaced with roars and the sight of distant gold. But he's grateful enough to listen, and more importantly not question it, snatching Yuuya from the air before holding him close.

He's not sure if he can save himself, or even his friends at this point, he thinks as he practically glues himself to the wall and balcony entrance. For himself, at the least, hiding will be practically impossible once above and back on the floor. "MGkh...." But if there is one thing he can do, it's try to get the others out of this mess. "You heard him-Run," he hisses, voice grave and low. With all he can he pushes the few he caught upward, in hopes that they can at least take the edge of the dance floor and escape into the crowd. Perhaps hide somewhere, or....or something, anything really. "Get yourselves hidden, quickly..!" he cries-and when his arm and vines are empty of others, he'll push himself as far beneath and along the balcony ruins as he can, sucking in a breath and activating his shadowed gem again while curling into a now fragile mess of vines, stone, and fur. His side is stiff-and painful, his breaths feeling sharp and hindered.

He can only hope that all of this helped to succeed in something.

[hippocarnival]

Yugo beats him to Sans's tail, and given the way he gets stabbed it's probablt a good thing. He's just pulling himself out of the corner of the balcony he's clung to... when there's a flurry of bone and the balcony breaks off from the building.

Unfortunately, he can't hold on in time. Gongenzaka's cry falls on deaf ears as Yuya is too late to grab hold of him and he's falling.

Until Lambert grabs him, yelling, and it's only by his words does Yuya register who the dragon is. His body jerks as he's thrust upward instead, into Gon's arm. His head is spinning, dizzy, and it takes him a moment to grab the ledge and pull himself over when he's pushes up.

He looks down from his hands and knees. "Gongenzaka...?"

He's hiding. Yuya can tell that much, so insteadhe looks between Yugo and the ballroom as Lambert and Sans fly off. They've caused a huge commotion, would someone come?