⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone!
When: Winter Breaks: Day 6 - Day 25
Where: THE MOON
What: The carnival journeys to one of its moons to celebrate the Lunar Solstice. More information here.
Warnings: Winter fun.

MOON WALKING↴ The journey to the moon only takes a blink of an eye, but it leaves the carnival far away beneath you. The second moon can be seen on the peripheral, massive compared to its usual view. At least when the holidays start out, there will be no notable wildlife on the moon, though this is something you can talk to the Ringmaster about if you think it needs a change. It sounds like this is the first time she's used it in quite a while - it probably needs some dusting off! Claim your cabins, and proceed to... well, do whatever you want! There is no rush and little obligation, besides to enjoy yourself. For real, this time. She promises there will be no vampires. Or, at least, none that don't already work for the carnival. ► CABINS: Living arrangements are character choice for this event, and there are a variety of cabins of various sizes, mostly built to house 2-6 people, though you can fit more in if you squish. They are all made of wood and of a rustic design - no fancy modern furniture, here! Each building is housed with a fireplace and the needed amenities. You can pick up materials to cook with the private kitchens if you like. Theoretically, you could spend the whole holiday sequestered away, watching the snow fall. Some of them also have outdoor hot tubs available! ► ACTIVITIES: Activities are mostly going to be character driven, though there will be some large group games like bingo and maybe a poker tournament happening at some point in one of the festival halls. Otherwise, there is a lot to offer: skiing, snowboarding, hiking, ice sculpting, snowball fights - it goes on! If you'd like to run a winter activity, just let the mods know, and we will get the word out there for you. ► FEASTING: Every day isn't a full-out feast because that would get a bit unhealthy, but there will be a number of specific feast events over the holidays where everyone is encouraged to let out their inner hedonist and stuff themselves. There will be one big feast per week, with smaller but also delicious meals offered in between. The feast dates will be B12, B18, and B24. There's also plenty of alcohol available for anyone who wants it. ► SHOPPING: As mentioned in the planning post, there is a massive market being run by the World Walker Caravan! The Ringmaster has given everyone 1250 credits to spend on items, but there is a caveat - must spend at least 500 of those credits on gifts for other people. And it better be a good one, if you only buy one! (She will ask that you do not buy her presents, however. She appreciates the sentiment, but it seems sort of silly buying her things with her own money! If you'd like to gift her, please have it be something more personal or handmade, but you are not obligated to get her anything at all.) ► TREATMENTS: The beginning of the holidays will also be about the time that the emergency Medical Team will have finalized their treatments for the Prince's poisoning. Watch out for further information on that - and make sure to get treated if you are suffering from petrification or poison induced illness! The holidays will be a lot more fun that way.

Comments

next tag Foster-

[soft_focus]

Indeed it is. Reira knocks, and then opens the door anyway, taking two steps in before closing it behind her.

"...........I'm staying here now!" she announces quite clearly. YOU CAN DEAL WITH IT FOSTER.

[criticallyfucked]

The fact that Reira didn't tell him she was coming, let alone intending to stay with him, is......

....... effective.

Foster was basically just sitting on his bed to begin with, a lot of bandages (some clean, some.... less so) unravelled in the blankets. He doesn't even look surprised when she marches in. Only somewhat curious.

Nor does he bother to affirm her proclamation. No opinion means no right to comment; that's only natural.

"Taako's out, do you can steal his bed from him if you want."

He's eyeing Flowey more than Reira--but flashes the flower a wide and welcoming smile, one that comes with no additional comment.

[wilt]

"I'm staying too."

Except-- what's with that face? Flowey, what the ever-loving hell is with that face? Is it supposed to be threatening or is it meant to be assertive? He blinks it away before Reira notices, returning to his normal self, looking around the room... definitely needs a flower pot. That, or he can sleep under someone's bed. Flowers are not necessarily in need of comfort.

[soft_focus]

Yes, what Is that face. Reira merely blinks at it in the hair of a second it's there, and then at Foster, and then shakes her head. "...There's probably another bed still." There better be, at least. "Um.... ....Is there something Flowey can use though?" she adds, sticking to the 'Secret' name. "I don't think he uses a bed..."

...

....... "...Do you?"

[criticallyfucked]

When Flowey makes that face, tells Foster what he's going to do, Foster's smile grows just a bit.

But.

[wilt]

He doesn't waver. If he guessed about this guy right, Flowey has to be all up-front and intimidating, just like his old self. Then, he turns back to Reira with a much more natural expression.

"I don't need much of anything. Usually a flower pot is pretty comforting, though."

[soft_focus]

Boys. She just sighs, and nods. "Umn, I'll make sure things are okay then," she decides, looking to Foster. "....When is Taako coming?" she decides to add, heading around to look for some sort of pot that Flowey can claim.

TW: self... harm......

[criticallyfucked]

Foster's arm is bleeding sluggishly in a couple of places; his crinkled blond fur is soaking up most of it, but it's still matted and red where it's fresher, and matted and black where it isn't.

He makes no effort to explain this. If anything, he seems to be watching Flowey--and Reira--closely, but otherwise works silently to wrap it back up. His attention is more on his arm than them.

It's just the cost of necromancy. When you magic demands you spill your own blood to cast the spell, and you're asked to cast that spell dozens of times, you end up looking kind of gross. And contrary to what one might expect, the correct reaction is not to react, or notice it at all. Unless you're going to belittle or humiliate him for it, any harm to his body is meant to be beneath the notice of others.

"I didn't ask," he says, still somewhat aloof. "Maybe radio him. You can ask him to bring back a pot."

He's... smiling...?

[OOC: So, I mobile tagged that last one and lost like... 2/3 of the tag in the process of posting it somehow? I'm kind of amazed because it ended up almost making sense anyway, but also: holy shit I'm sorry.]

[wilt]

Of course Flowey is disgusted, but he doesn't react. The nerve of this guy-- Reira was just a kid (well, so was he, but considerably used to violence) and he was looking at them like 'well? Pretty gross, right?' It's such a conundrum when Flowey really, wants to hurt this guy, vine smack him, and that's exactly what he wants so he can't give it to him.

He wishes he were strong enough to do the kind of pain that would make him realize he didn't want it-- no, no, stop those thoughts. Reira can feel them.

"Reira, this bed is yours. Taako can just get what he wants. And I can just sink beneath the floor if it comes down to it."

[soft_focus]

Reira, curiously, has an entirely different reaction to the blood-and that reaction is to blink, and ask- "....Did you make something come alive again, here?" she wonders, all while moving toward the bed that Flowey has pointed out. Her voice might seem a bit distant as a result, but whatever. "...I guess I can use the radio...."

Hmmm.

"....Is sinking into a pillow comfy?" she asks the flower, eyebrows raised.

[criticallyfucked]

Foster pauses in wrapping his arm to pick a clot of dried blood out of his fur with his claws. He doesn't look especially disgusted, just mild-faced. Business-as-usual. It's the only time he really achieves a poker face over his own feelings. He should never, could never be complacent to the sight, the scent, the feel of his own blood--

"There's an effort to find a cure for the stoneflesh and soul-rot! I offered them use of my magic. They didn't want the rats to suffer, so I gave them rats that wouldn't."

He also made several of those rats 150 times their original size. 'As close to human-sized as possible' was the specification.

But providing those rats to the cure team was... satisfyingly productive, and it was an excellent cover for other orders. Orders he's trying not to think about around Reira, frankly. She doesn't need to know.

"They weren't very clear about how many they needed, though!"

[wilt]

Flowey's getting angrier, like a cat with its ears back except its all petals, but his face is a brick wall. Or rather, it's facing the wall and looking over the bedspread, terse just from being around Foster. Reira might be used to a lot of things, but why this? Who let her? Shouldn't someone be keeping an eye on her...?! He thinks, completely forgetting he's only a year her senior.

But he's also killed a child over and over again only to load a save and do it again, so I mean.

Foster is probably on a higher moral ground.

"A pillow is fine. Anything works, honestly. Monsters are made of magic, you know?"

[soft_focus]

"....." She chooses not to...address that. There's lots of dead mice in the Carnival, probably. Probably? She looks to Flowey. "Magic..?" Hohh. Well. "...Is that why you can do magic the way you do?"

This conversation may or may not be worth Foster's interest, now.

[criticallyfucked]

Foster on a higher moral ground.... that's depressing.

Either way, the sad truth is that Reira is one of very few individuals keeping an eye on Foster. Which isn't to say Foster isn't keeping an eye out for her.

He has functionally been distracted by his own blood, though--in all its various forms. Fresh and liquid, thick and sticky, dried and crusted; pulling the clotted excess out of his fur coats his claws in it, and there is a terrible gratitude, a kind of fixation with an irresistible magnetism, a pull that he can't break away from--

Needless to say, he does appear to be ignoring this conversation. He isn't, not entirely--mostly because Flowey successfully catches his attention with the assertion that Monsters are made of magic. There are a couple of Monsters in the Carnival that he has an interest in understanding more closely... although the motivation between the two cases is very different.

So... he's basically eavesdropping, and pretending that he's not.

[wilt]

"Yeah. You've seen me teleport, right? I just go straight through the ground to wherever I want, instantly. So naturally, if I just go down and stay in a pillow..."

How to describe this... hiding underground isn't the most comfortable but he can do it on multiple surfaces.

"Eh, maybe it'd be better to put me on a shelf. These new vines like to stretch."

[soft_focus]

"Mnh....Yeah! ...Do you still want a pillow when you're on the shelf..?" she asks. She's going to just. Not. Look at the guy picking clots in his fur. Nope.

No p e. Her magic question wasn't answered, entirely, but then maybe that was what 'yeah' was for. Not getting a big explanation doesn't always mean she didn't get an answer, she supposes.

[wilt]

"That'd be fine," He says, simply.

"A lot of monsters can do different things. Not as many things as me, of course." Boy, pride and affirmation were doing their job, weren't they. "I'm a big deal. I was made to be a big deal!"

Tell him to stop.

[criticallyfucked]

"Can all Monsters teleport?" Foster interrupts suddenly, either having totally missed or just totally disinterested in Flowey's little ego trip.

Sans can teleport, he knows that much. Repeated experience with Sans' teleportation has made enough of an impression on him there. But he's never seen Papyrus teleport--and now he can't think of very much more horrifying than the idea of Papyrus with the ability to manifest abruptly at any turn, full of incessant energy and ceaseless encouragement and hypocritical cheer.

He only asked because it seemed a good thing to know in general--but now he thinks of it, he's already had nightmares of Papyrus' thunderclap appearance at the apex of the Prince's tower.

[wilt]

And Flowey completely ignores Foster.

"Reira, do you want to go out for a while or hang around in here? I wanna be first to the market when it opens, so--!"

Clearly the kid is a little bit greedy at the notion that he'd be getting free money and over a thousand sounded like a lot to spoil himself with-- even though he was mentally checking off what to get other people. Papyrus asked him to decorate, so he has to get something like that... and Reira definitely needs to get something-- he can't imagine any other people who'd want gifts from him.

Is self loathing a cw? It is now.

[criticallyfucked]

Wow.

That was blatant; Foster couldn't have missed that if he'd wanted to. He turns away immediately, returning his attention to his open wounds without another word. Flowey did a pretty good job with it, really. The only other strategy that could be as effect would be to stone-cold tell Foster to shut up.

Bringing up the market is a bitter chaser--a small thing, but it cuts deep. Flowey isn't the only one who can't imagine someone wanting a gift from him. The moment the Ringmaster brought up the giving of gifts, it was like something diseased crawled up out of him, and it's been eating him like a ravenous parasite. A horrible toxin seeping out of his blood and devouring him from the inside. No gift from Foster could compensate for the contamination of his being its giver. No compliment high enough to assuage the insult.

When he goes back to re-wrapping his arms, it's with a small, placid smile of contentment.

oh boy

[soft_focus]

"Umn...." There are a number of things Reira was preparing to do and say. Initially she was content to internally sigh at Flowey after all-and then as Foster began speaking, she was ready to correct him. Flowey didn't feel like a teleporter after all, it was more like....he was moving through things really, really fast, the feelings trailing with it.

And from there there's the matter of wondering if she should go or stay with regard to shopping...but bitterness is rising in the air, and it rises to a sharp, steep peak. Reira grimaces as thoughts begin to run rampant in the room around her, taking in a sharp breath through her nose as she closes her eyes. It's worse, it's worse, it's worseee...

"...Stop." It's sharp, and biting, and when her eyes open they stare at the couch. Foster, certainly, knows exactly who she's speaking to however. "....Stop thinking about what's making you hate."

[wilt]

... eh--

[ He stops for a moment and hadn't considered his negative feelings would-- well thank god she never met Omega Flowey, or she might've-- with seven angry souls inside him, too... good thing that'll never happen. He calms down. Foster is just a guy. A guy with the nerve to pick at his blood in front of a little girl, but he quells that thought again as soon as he has it. ]

I wasn't--

[criticallyfucked]

Foster founders. Not because he fucked up, but because he has a much harder time ignoring the problem topic, not least because the topic in question is himself. And the feeling--

The feeling is, for him, irresistible--no, more than just irresistible, it's addictive. He can't let it go, not like that. Nor... nor does he want to let it go, he realises just as quickly. Whether or not he even can, his obedience and his craving, his need come into instant conflict, and he flounders in trying to reconcile them.

He can't just stop being himself. He can't stop being aware of himself, either.

He gets up, suddenly, purposeful--leaving the trailing roll of bandages behind on his bed.

[soft_focus]

That 'I wasn't' is receiving a fierce frown from Reira-she may not be a very violent child, but she's certainly not about to let that excuse slip by, and she leaves her response to the attempt at just 'frowning'. And then-

"Ah...." Foster is leaving. Yet she feels if she says something...if she says anything, it won't help matters at all. So much of what he does is grounded in that feeling. And, to bring it forward...

....There isn't a lot she can say at all, except- ".....Come back soon, okay?" she manages, chewing her lip. At least do that.

[wilt]

"..."

Is there a feeling for knowing you messed up? Because Flowey feels it pretty hard, but doesn't know what to call it. He thought ignoring Foster would be the best way to handle the situation because he shouldn't reveal whether all monsters teleport or not-- for their own safety. For whoever shows up.

As soon as Foster is gone--

"... I'm sorry, Reira. I just didn't think it was something he should know."