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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lostcarnival2017-10-13 06:00 pm
no subject
The poison has been working, but not quickly enough, and Sans's anger is getting in the way of carrying out his mission smoothly. The human's audacity is enough to fill him with fury, leaving him desperate to win out of some need for purpose. He helped to teach Lambert these techniques. How could he be so pathetic as to lose now?
Despite how durable he is in this form, he's been knocked around enough that his joints are beginning to rattle and shake. He's exhausting himself with his own excessive use of firepower. Still, his animal impulses have begun to crave only one thing - to destroy this enemy and to take that strength into himself, just as humans always feared they would. Give them something to actually be afraid of.
Lambert is just about to lock those fangs around his spine when he teleports away one last time, out of the dragon's grapple and into the air above him, slamming down onto his back and digging in that tail barb one last time. Fire and light builds in his jaw, ready to roast the dragon beneath him-
It's only then that Sans stops, because he can sense someone of importance nearby. Not Peridot, with her frantic attempts at distraction, but his own master, coming to collect his prey.
He holds that fire in his throat, ready to let loose - but he doesn't. Not without the Prince's permission.
no subject
In the split second when Lambert recognizes his luck runs out, just before he's rammed into the ground, the words ring clear and sharp in his mind. It's a bitter memory that goes with the taste of salt and iron in his mouth, palms torn to shreds and throat raw from screaming. He knows what a killing intent feels like when it's directed at him, even if he can't twist around and look at the beast behind him, the scales on his neck prickling with anticipation even in the futility of his struggle.
Years of surviving out of spite, and now here he is, about to die to a monster's attack like countless, better witchers than he is have before him. Well, at least he's living up to their glorious legacy. Vesemir ought to be proud.
Lambert's bracing for the strike he knows is going to tear his head off his neck once it impacts -- but death doesn't come, the wolf holding back for some reason Lambert's too addled to register right now.
The sudden halt, however, makes him lose his grip on the last of his dragon form. Under Sans, the scales seem to ignite from within. Gold burns to black, smoke rising from his body as it turns into ash. The rain quickly soaks into it, leaving a dragon-shaped, soot-black imprint on the ground. It also means the body that was supporting the wolf's weight is gone, and it will land with a whumpf on the grass, an all too human form now between its paws.
Almost instantly, Lambert's curling into himself with pain. As it turns out, the dosage of manticore poison a human can take is significantly less than a dragon, who could have guessed? As the poison works its way through his system, petrifying flesh, the bites and non-tail inflicted scratches he's sustained bleed freely, mixing with water and mud.
The return of his form also means Lambert has the opportunity to regain some of his faculties -- including awareness of his surroundings. He should probably be paying attention to the reason Sans has stopped trying to kill him, but he remembers a small, shrieking form darting around them during the fight, somehow having managed to remain unscathed, since it turns out it's really hard to effectively get between two huge monsters trying to tear each other apart.
The witcher's fingers dig into the ground, and he brings his head up to give the Prince his best shit-eating grin, though it's a little ruined by the rock beginning to creep up his jaw from a lucky stab to the neck earlier.
"I know this looks bad," he starts, "But for the record, I'm still definitely prettier than you."
no subject
It took a much larger fuss to accomplish this than he would have thought, but yet, he can't find himself angry as he looks down at the torn up ground and scorched topiaries. She would have no choice but to regard his victory, here. The spectacle had been worth the mess.
"Leave him," he says to Sans, who will bow his head and pull back from Lambert's human form, wavering in the mud and rain. He hears the human rebuking him, but he doesn't see fit to react.
"You may feel defiant now, but you'll find that your savagery has played straight into my hand," he says.
no subject
The mighty bones of his bestial form break apart into dust, allowing his miniature true form to fall into the mud not far from Lambert. The dust is soaked in rain as soon as it appears, the remains of larger body mingling with the slurry of water and dirt.
Sans falls to his side and doesn't get up, still conscious but only fit to stare vaguely at Lambert and the Prince through the rain. What's happening to him, he wonders, the exhaustion of the fight seeming to ease his grasp on his own enchantment.
What did he do?
no subject
Fortunately, she's not super high up in the air at this point, but she still drops to the ground from a height that would surely have injured most humans. It doesn't even faze her; she's up and scrambling onto the scene on all fours. She skids to a halt through the mud to land between Lambert and the Prince, standing up straight and flinging her arms out in a prohibitive gesture.
"I don't know how to explain it yet, but I can assure you that this is all just a big, BIG misunderstanding," the gem wheezes. It has to be.
no subject
"Your hand?" Lambert asks, sweetly -- or as sweetly as he can around a grimace of pain as another spasm of pain ripples through him. "Don't you mean your paw?"
In startlingly clear hindsight -- as it turns out, getting ripped into by a bone monster is a remarkably effective way to clear your head of lingering memory fog -- his half-assed plan rates a 10/10 for effectiveness (he wasn't actually expecting the Prince himself to deign to address him, given how uninterested he was in Lambert before) and a 0/10 for survivability.
no subject
"You can tell your mistress that this beast has disrupted my ball and attacked my servant." He gestures at Sans, who is still lying in the mud, obviously dazed. "There is no misunderstanding to be had, and I will be taking my recompense."
He gestures lazily with a paw and the earth and mud around Lambert and Sans will begin to rise, reaching out like arms to pull the two of them down into its depths.
no subject
You're definitely not tough enough to beat him, the voice in her head reminds her, and she grits her teeth at the thought. It might be true, but she has a sharp tongue and a quick mind. She could do this, reason their way out of this mess if they'd just give her the chance--
Then the stupid pebble goes and kicks Lambert in the face, and that train of thought goes completely off the tracks and into a ditch. Peridot yelps with alarm and scrambles back to his side, crouching there protectively. The Look she shoots up at the prince only grows more venomous has he continues to speak, and by the end of things she's absolutely seeing red.
This jerk... This asshole, to co-opt a more severe human insult, because if anyone deserves that it's this guy... First he takes Sans. Then he hurts Lapis, turns Sans against his own friends, hurts Lambert... And now he has the gall to claim ownership over one of her friends?
No, wait. Make that TWO of her friends. If looks could kill, if words could obliterate, surely the Prince would be dead where he stood by the time Peridot was done shouting the abuse that's building on her tongue. But she doesn't get the chance to scream it out, because suddenly the mud is rising and no, no no no no no-- He can't take them, she won't let him-- She gasps and starts to claw at the mud around Lambert, grabs his arm-- She looks over at Sans too, aware that there are two people here who need her help but there's only one of her, how can she possible help them both--? It's quickly apparent that tugging at Lambert isn't going to save him; she only tries once, aborts the attempt half way through and whirls on the Prince, expression stormy.
"Stop it-- LET GO OF THEM--" she snarls, shaking with fear and fury both, and without thinking about it there's heat building in her claws, she wants to attack him, claw him until he stops whatever spell he's using to steal them both away--
no subject
It sets his mind spinning. She's yelling at the Prince to let them go and he's trying to understand why. He's fighting against her now, he nearly killed Lambert, he... why?
Why is he doing this? He's desperately trying to rationalize how it came to this, but in this fog of utter exhaustion he can't figure anything out. Why did he come out here, what is he doing, why were they fighting, what is happening to him...?
In a surge of confusion and anxiety he feels the desperate need to beg for help before all of this slips away again, but he can't seem to speak, can't find the words. He just sees Peridot looking ready to attack the Prince and desperately wants her not to.
"Peridot..."
Lambert and Peridot shouldn't be out here. Words balance behind his teeth, but nothing comes out. All he can do is vaguely raise his hand before the arms of mud reach up and cling to his shoulders and throat, starting to drag him down. He can't help but struggle, as futile as he knows it is. He's too terrified to do anything else.
no subject
It's when she drops him and turns that he realizes she's about to do something stupid. It's easy to recognize, as someone whose life is largely comprised of making stupid decisions, but this is one he just can't allow.
"Calm down and go," he snarls, desperately shoving the last of his magic and willpower into the spell. Lambert throws his hand out hard enough to make him lurch out of the mud. There isn't time for explanations or apologies; he just needs Peridot to leave.
no subject
She breaks off mid-sentence with a vague look of confusion, and then her fingers relax. Without the active will to keep channeling her magic to her claw-tips, the heat them dies off quickly, sapped away as steam in the rain.
"I'll just make my way back up to the party, then," she mumbles vaguely, and starts to wander off.