⇨ END OF EVENT LOG

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone participating in the Prince's challenge.
When: Day 178, Afternoon
Where: A Conjured Forest
What: The Carnival takes to the Hunt again, but this time, with the intention to win.
Warnings: Violence and death.

SACRIFICES↴ In a bid to definitively settle a victor and reclaim the captured carnival workers, the Ringmaster has challenged the Prince to another hunt. If the Prince wins this challenge, he can claim the Blue Rose the Carnival stole; if the Carnival wins, the Ringmaster will be allowed to claim one True Name in the Prince's possession. With the Manor reshaped as it is, there's no longer a courtyard to transform into a suitable hunting ground. Instead, the Prince's magic has turned one of the floating islands between the fortress and the Carnival into an overgrown forest. Being a fae contest, of course, each side's idea of victory is not as straightforward as it would appear, but for those participating in the hunt, there is only one objective that matters: to kill their prey in the time they're given. The captives who have been transformed into beasts will have little of their human sentience remaining, and will be set loose to wander the forest freely. Instinct will compel them to conceal themselves or attack hunters, depending on their individual disposition. Upon death, the beasts will remain in their bestial forms. IN HOT PURSUIT↴ To win this challenge, the hunters must bring all of the beasts down with weapons or innate strength within the time limit: an hour and one minute. No magic may be used to take any of the beasts down -- any use of supernatural or magical abilities to trap, track, or kill the creatures will result in a forfeit to the Prince, and this will be made explicitly clear to the hunters before the contest begins. Hunters are allowed to bring their own weapons and mounts, provided they are non-magical in nature (or their magical abilities are not being actively used). If they do not have their own, ordinary ones of any variety will be provided to them. To expedite the proceedings, rather than dragging the bodies back individually, each hunter will receive a token from the Prince: an enameled blue rose. To formally claim a kill, they must place the rose on the dead beast (ideally, in their mouth, though as long as it's touching it it will do) and activate the spell by reciting the following words: "I claim this life for thy Master's game." "A life surrendered to claim my prize." Using the rose in this way will cause its petals to instantly wilt and magically bring the dead beast, and any hunters touching it, back to the Prince. So, don't touch it if you want to stay in the forest for more hunting. A CAPTIVE AUDIENCE↴ The Prince and the Ringmaster will be waiting for the results of the hunt in a roughly-constructed marble amphitheatre on another floating bit of rock. Those whose stomachs are too weak to take up even just the appearance of hunting can stay at the Carnival or hang out in the amphitheater, with the caveat that any attempt to attack the Prince or use magic to aid the captured prey will instantly default the win to the Prince. Should they want something to do other than twiddle their thumbs, the non-fighting carnival workers can peer into the hand mirrors left on the seats, smaller versions of what the Prince is watching the hunt through. They will be unable to control what images are brought up in the mirror, and it essentially only shows whatever the Prince is looking at himself. There's no sound, but the images are in full color (all the better to see blood with). This is also the area that the hunters and prey will be brought to when the spell is activated (or when every creature has been hunted). So, expect for a pile of corpses to end up there. [ OOC: This log wraps up the end of the Heartstone Manor plot! It is up to hunters and prey to create their own toplevels and sort out who will be delivering the finishing blow (feel free to use the OOC post about this event to coordinate that), but OOCly, it's set that the Carnival will win the Prince's challenge. The hunt's conclusion will be posted as a separate comment for characters to respond to.]

Comments

[fortuneglass]

It is a renewing sight-an assurance of victory as the Prince's face falls, as realization sinks in and the Ringmaster grins. The name of the manor-she can't comprehend it, but the order is clear-and the order, followed by Syrlya's own motion, are what bring Carly forward. She has been sitting there since the defeat of the 'Ampithere'-of Yuugo, her mind corrects, the teen's body still on the ground before them all. But while Syrlya stabs, Carly's fire-violet, draining, cold and forceful-blazes across her arms and then toward the Prince where he stands. If the strike from the blade was not enough, then she'll certainly use her power to drain what strength she can from him and make an escape truly impossible-

"Not after all you did," she agrees, shaking her head as she herself trembles lightly. The fire is furious, and it pulls, and even if her strength is far from any true fae's own, she refuses to keep from doing her part. "Not after everything we've seen," Carly hisses, clenching her fist.

"It's OVER..!"

Let the Prince get his unfortunate ending.

[peridork]

Peridot's been practically vibrating with rage since she dropped back into the arena along with the dead boar. She's still next to it-- next to Lambert, but her eyes are on the two fae, watching like a hawk as the Ringmaster and the Prince have their exchange. Her tufted tail thrashes with a kind of agitated anticipation, waiting for the moment of catharsis that the whole carnival is sorely in need of.

"YEAH, KICK HIS STINKING BUT!" she squawks unnecessarily from the sidelines, pumping both fists in the air, and yeah, she's more than a little thrilled to see that sword plunge into him.

cw: barfs happen

[whattaprick]

The most Lambert has been aware of, since being revived, is being in a blinding amount of pain. The memories of the past hour are too jumbled for him to make sense of right now, but his body feels sore and battered beyond belief, and he's still wet from his dunk into a pond (which has, unfortunately for everyone else, washed off most of the mud).

There's something wrong with his ears -- everything's too loud -- which means once the yelling starts happening, it just makes the noise in his head louder.

'Shut the fuck up,' he says, or tries to say. Given the ruin being hunted down has made of his throat, though, the most he gets is a rasping, retching cough. Then he's actually retching, rolling over onto his side to avoid choking as he messily brings up all the pondwater he swallowed.

[kingsroads]

I'm sorry, are there conversations happening, because Strange is absolutely not paying attention to any of them. All of his attention is focused on Syrlya. Because for Jonathan 'magically sensitive' Strange, the Blue Rose is the most goddamn beautiful thing he's seen in ages. He's certain other people can sense the magic: it's practically blinding for him, it must be noticeable for others. But summoning that rapier is just an act of pure, simple beauty that he can't help but gawp like a moron.

It's also the most goddamn dangerous thing he's seen in ages. Then again, the two can happily coexist. He can't really do anything but stare and watch, mouth slightly agape and actually quiet for once as Syrlya goes in for the stab.

His complete inattention to the rest of the carnival staff means that some of Lambert's puke gets on his shoes. That's gonna be a fun thing to realize later.

[moonfang]

Oh hell no. There is no way Zangetsu isn't going to get in a lick, here. Sure, that sword was beautiful -- and powerful. And Carly's flames would surely do the trick.

But the Prince kidnapped his master. He hurt Ichigo. He brainwashed him into thinking ridiculous things about dancing and partying. That was unacceptable.

That was unforgivable.

Standing quietly at the side as he watches the proceedings, Zangetsu ways for Syrlya to make his move, then rushes forward himself, his blade form appearing in his hand as he does. He vanishes and reappears behind the Prince, slicing him from the base of his neck diagonally down to his ass. At least one of the Prince's wings is probably in the way of the whole ordeal, and there's more than enough strength there to slice it off.

[lordofthering]

The Blue Rose pierces its prey, straight through the Prince's chest, emerging cleanly from the other side. His wings jerk to a stop as the shock spreads through him, taking a moment to register what has just occurred - his eyes going wide as the other carnival members close in around him. The Ringmaster's face has become far more bestial as she observes, swiftly changing into her true form as it all comes together.

"I'd take a step back," she advises, as the dark flames encircle him, and as Zangestu's sword distorts through the Prince's body, as if the fae is a mixture of flesh and a ghost. Particules of energy leak into the air, like dust in a windstorm.

Dust that they can't afford to let get away - to go to waste.

The Blue Rose pulses within the Prince's chest, spears of solid water and flame striking outward like thorns bursting from his skin. The Ringmaster descends, tearing his form from the sword's grasp, and drawing the shining light of his body into her maw. It only takes a few moments - for a second, the two of them are like a supernova, or perhaps like two suns colliding. That is, until one of those suns is handily eclisped.

The Ringmaster's form has risen to the air, fully a draco-phoenix now, her wings spreading wide and burning with blue energy as the Prince's presence disappears. She lingers in the air afterward, casting a shadow over the carnival members on the ground beneath her. She hiccups, burping out his Name-filled handbook into her hand. Its pages burn into pieces, disappearing into the wind as ash.

The earth splits. Through the area beneath the people of the carnival remains firm, the island ahead of them are forming together into a single entity - joining with their piece of land to create something much bigger. It is a massive stone being, larger than the entirety of the Manor's grounds had been - the forest and those surrounding it will find themselves approximate in its lap as it rises as if stretching into a sitting position.

Slowly, it will raise two enormous hands - each of them carefully holding the servants and prisoners that had been within the fortress's walls, funnel out from the inside of its body effortlessly. Like mountains in motion, it slowly lowers them to the clearing where the forest is gradually disappearing, allowing them to escape to the ground below as the shaking finally stops.

"Oh, you poor thing," the Ringmaster says to the gargantuan elemental. Still dwarfed by them at her current size, though some carnival members will know she can get much bigger. "I had no idea he was prideful enough to enslave an elemental, too!"

Just ignore him--

[criticallyfucked]

Amongst the servants and prisoners being evicted from within the elemental is Foster, probably no more distinguishable from the rest of their number at first than any of the others. The only thing setting him apart at all is his laughter; breathless, discordant, spit-flecked laughter as he lies on the stony surface of the gargantuan being's lap.

He has no choice but to lie there, in fact. After a couple of days encased in stone, eight total without even a single actual meal, there is no physical way he could possibly stand. He's light-headed and in considerable pain; exhausted physically in a way that he feels in every muscle fibre--but here is the moment of his master's victory: absolute, cataclysmic, resplendent!

How could he not--how could he not be infected, for one diseased and dazzling moment, with the terrible excitement of her carnal dominion?