lostcarnival | ⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

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⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

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.

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After almost two weeks of being too tired for life, Sans is quick to snatch up the opportunity to have access to the cure, even if it's without much prior testing. His had to be personalized anyway - with monster bodies being so different from organic structures, he was going to be an odd one out regardless. He may as well just get it over with.

Alphys worked on it, apparently, and Sans trusts that - whether or not he should, based on her track record.

He's wearing only his "Momma's Messy Boy" t-shirt as he sits on the ledge of the hot tub, his fat tentacle tail hanging over the side. There's some light snow falling outside as he tosses the bomb into the water and watches it turn green with definite fascination. He looks at the vial of digestible cure. Welp.

"Hey bro," he calls towards the cabin. "I'm gonna to take my medicine now. Wanna come make sure I don't melt?"

Edited 2017-11-24 21:49 (UTC)

The first rounds of gifts have been... perhaps not a complete success, but a significant one! And there's still more to go. So Papyrus has spent a fair amount of time inside with his new painting supplies, carefully crafting handmade - and astonishingly identical - cards for every employee of the carnival.

Nearly every physical one, anyway. He's not sure how many maze reflections or cinder spirits there are, yet, and the tentacle monster might not enjoy a paper-based gift that just gets soggy and crumbles on them... Maybe a painted stone would be better.

"That's a strangely specific question!" he yells back, and gathers brushes into water glasses so they won't dry with paint still on. "Do you anticipate melting??"

Gathering the tools only takes a few seconds, and he heads outside as soon as that's settled.

It's been a good arrangement for Sans, because it means he can watch Papyrus paint while dozing at the fireside. It would be practically idyllic if it weren't for the nausea and ache. Hopefully this treatment will finally resolve that.

Oh right. That reference is probably outside of Papyrus's realm of experience. He shrugs it off casually.

"Take a look at this ooze and tell me you can't imagine something melting in it," he says, pointing at the bubbling green slime now dominating the hot tub. It's probably fine to because Sans's legs are already in and it feels fine.

The way painting things stretches out the gift-giving funds enough that he expects to get something for all his friends, was a big part of getting them the first day. But the way it gives him something to do, while hanging out with the still-sick Sans, was at least part of the decision to do things like this.

Papyrus trods his way through the snow, occasionally making faces at how it squelches between bare toes, and peers over the rim of the hot tub.

"Wowie! That's straight out of a comic book." The bubbling green vat is not super confidence-inspiring, but it's just Papyrus right now, so he settles for saying, "maybe you'll get extra superpowers. Like melty, shapeshifting powers! Wait, you already have that... What happens if I touch it?? I want superpowers..."

"Eh," he says, lifting one of his legs out and then dumping it back in. "Pretty sure all it'd do is make you smell powerfully, which is a whole different thing."

He grins, and then opens the vial.

"Anyway, bottoms up," he says, and pours the mixture down his throat. All seven eyes go wide and then blink - damn, that has a kick. His voice is a little bit wavy as he adds: "Aaand now... bottoms down."

He slips into the water up to his shoulders, bringing his tail in with him.

The Stinker would be a terrible superhero for real life... but so easy to draw comics for! Their attacks would include wavy green lines of stench as they make brave, sweaty poses like Undyne. How convenient that her powers, too, are green! Maybe he should draw that sometime.

"Greet the depths for me, Sans!" Papyrus cheers, before sitting next to the hot tub and examining where bone meets burbly green sludge water. If the hot tub at the celebration was difficult to see through, this one is nigh impossible. Kind of a relief, except for the part where he's to keep watch for melting bones.

So he looks back up at Sans face, and rests his arms on the edge. "If you do start melting, how do I pick you up...? Would you rather be carried in a large bucket, or frozen and transported as the core of a snowball?"

"The bucket seems more thematically consistent," he comments, though... whew. He's sort of lighthearted already, and the heat only makes it more potent. He can't overheat like a human does, much like he has difficulty getting hypothermia, but it still has an effect.

It's sort of hard to pay attention. He leans heavily against the back of the hot tub, like he's going to start nodding off.

"Whuhoo, that stuff is powerful though," he comments, woozily. "Maybe I was wrong."

Papyrus nods, taking note of the preference. Not that he knows where a bucket is, or that he's going to go get one... but he does have a radio. There's enough people with radios, who aren't sick or injured, that he could call for help.

"Strong sounds good... the better to melt off all that rock, and sickness," he says, more to himself than anything. He's aware that he's unsure what's best here, too aware and too worried to put his all into shouting encouragements.

"What, uh... were you wrong about?"

He's not actually sure what he was saying that in response to, come to think of it? Wrong that he wouldn't get superpowers? That statement makes no sense, in retrospect, especially since he's not sure what getting super sleepy has to do with that.

"Like... melting... figuratively?" he suggests, before sliding bonelessly into the water. Goodbye cruel world.

That boneless sliding better be figurative too, or Papyrus is going to start shouting.

If he's just sliding down, with the visible parts of him still holding their own form... Then Papyrus laughs softly and shakes his head at his slumping brother. "Oh my god, what was in that cure? Was that... secretly that faerly strong ale?"

Apparently it was, because if Papyrus can manage to make out his brother's form at the bottom of the hot tub, he's completely whole but also very asleep. He looks pretty pleased with himself, as a result, curled up like a dog napping on a sunny day. He snorts a few bubbles out of his nose.

The rock hasn't started to lift yet, but at least being a skeleton makes soaking easy!

Incredible. What a powerful beverage, and a powerful nap. Good thing their positions weren't switched around?? If Sans had been healthy and watchful, and Papyrus been sick and soaking, soused into near-instantaneous sleep... Sans would have been able to make fun of him about it for years.

"Hmmm..."

He rests his head on his arms, glancing down periodically to make sure Sans isn't mush, and hums a tune or two to himself. It vaguely reminds him of one of Mettaton's films, except a green hot tub instead of a bed and flower petals. To sit here for hours, doing little else, with no company... but so many of the people he would chat with out of boredom, are getting hot tub naps of their own! Or watching the others.

"What is it they say? Two minds are better than one... isn't four eyes better than two?"

If Sans ends up napping down there for hours, it's going to be Papyrus and Sistina keeping watch. That way they can take turns! And chat over the tub. She's a snow goose anyway, she'd probably like the chance to properly be in powder.

It does end up being a couple hours before he rouses enough to question his location. It feels very warm, and he feels very cozy, and he wakes up feeling better than he went to sleep. Like all the sleeping he did before was just practice sleep, and this sleep actually gave him energy when the rest had only been passing the time. The only slightly daunting thing is looking up to see everything through a film of grimy green water - but his memory of how he got here quickly eases his worries.

The only thing that manages to convince him to get up is that he sees that Papyrus is still there.

He almost yawns, but then remembers he's underwater, so he doesn't. Probably don't want to risk swallowing this junk. Instead, he pushes himself up on an elbow and hauls himself up, made lightly by his mild amount of buoyancy. He makes sure to yawn the moment he's emerged of course.

The stone is completely gone from his face, and in its place the fae mark has changed configurations, now passing down through a couple of his eyes like a lighter version of a badass scar. Lighter literally speaking, because it's glowing a cyan blue.

"How long was I out?" he asks.

With Papyrus and Sistina able to tag team (within a given radius of movement), the hours passed without too much stircrazy. There's a few more snow sculptures nearby, a goose-shaped snow angel, and at some point Papyrus took a trip back inside for food. Leftover containers are tucked just against the hot tub where they should stay warm enough not to freeze, Papyrus is absently munching on something while reading, and Sistina's settled on the tub's stairs, unwilling to look away from the waters for more than a couple minutes at a time.

"Hi, Sans," Papyrus puts the book down and grins at his brother. "You look better!"

No more stone, at least that he can see from here, and more signs of energy and curiosity. The green liquid knows its stuff, he concludes, and nods encouragingly. Finally, things can really start getting back to normal. A new normal. Which is more going forward... which is better, anyway.

"Mmmf. It's been a few hours," the daemon says, lifting her head from the rim. "I was getting worried. And your face markings changed, is that supposed to happen?"

Sans puts a hand to his face, bemused. The markings changed? Huh. He's had those for a while now, and they haven't changed before... on the other hand, he's pretty sure he's seen other people's shift around before.

"Dunno," he says, shrugging a shoulder. "Probably not too weird, though."

He starts trying to pull himself out of the water to get a better look at himself. It's too murky to see much of his reflection - as misbehaved as it can be - and he wants to know what the status of his ass and legs are. As he half stumbles over the ledge of the hot tub, that quickly becomes apparent.

At some point, the tentacle tail has melted away, leaving only bones beneath it. Back to normal, apparently, except for the fact that there is still a coating of stone layering one side of the tail. Except, that stone doesn't feel unnatural and stiff like the other stuff had. And... the scorpion tail is still there.

"Ehn, this again," he says, fishing the stinger out of the water as he tried to avoid falling face first into the snow. He's still a little bit intoxicated, it would see.

"Hang on, don't fall over," Papyrus says, hopping up to block Sans from slipping off the rim of the tub. As soon as that's assured, he changes his posture so he's offering an arm to hold onto.

"At least we were expecting that," Sistina offers as condolences, and hops down, wings fluttering and kicking up snow flurries, to look Sans over better. She tilts her head, checking feet, hands, tail, then up his spine to his head. Just the one stone-coated area, and no more tentacle.

"Other than those... the rest of you looks 'normal'," she emphasizes with a little laugh in her voice. A brief yawn, and she shakes herself off before asking the most important question. "How do you feel, though?"

Probably isn't a great word, for how this whole thing is supposed to work and heal him. But, they've got the radio. If anything else seems wrong, they can bother whoever's still awake.

Sans holds onto Papyrus's arm, letting go of the stinger and giving his tail a stretch. The layer of stone stretches up his back and to his shoulders, but that's it. Much better, in comparison.

"Still got some stone, but it doesn't feel stiff like it did before," he says, since that isn't visually obvious. "Think this might just be a permanent change now, 'cause it feels pretty natural. But, I don't feel like hot garbage anymore, so I'll take it."

He gives Papyrus a wider grin, since he still looks worried.

"Looks like the medical crew got the job done."

"Not lukewarm or cold garbage either, I hope," Sistina says, ruffling herself and resting her head against her chest. "Good. Okay, that's done. You're okay."

Papyrus' posture relaxes in sync with Sistina's, and he smiles at Sans, finally really feeling it. His brother is back, and he's okay.

"That's fine! Now we can match in another way," he says, and taps at one of the patches of crystals on his arm. "Though, I'm sorry to say, my rocks are prettier. Even when they... look like acne."

If only they didn't insist on growing in his soul color.

"Maybe you can get some cool designs painted on it!"

He snickers, slipping off of the tub and into the snow. With his bones still warm from the water, the snow melts around his toes in a way that is vaguely amusing to him.

"Well, if we stay out here, I'll be working on the 'cold garbage' part," he says. He keeps his hand on Papyrus's arm, even though he's no longer needing it to balance as much. "And hey... not many skeletons can claim to have acne, so that's pretty special, right?"

He isn't really a fan of his own rock parts, considering, but now isn't the time to worry about it. Now he's just feeling high on not being disgustingly ill, and feeling oddly optimistic about the days to come. Better run with that feeling while he's got it.

"Then, go inside," Sistina replies, following as the brothers walk to the cabin. The cold shouldn't hurt either of them, ordinarily, but who knows what that stone might do. Just because it seemed numbing to Lambert doesn't mean it's not more vulnerable than bone. Once he's settled inside, in the warm, she'll finally relax enough to dismiss herself.

"It's true," Papyrus says, agreeing cheerfully enough. "Although, it isn't the claim to fame I would have chosen."

Kingship wasn't either, and skeleton acne was easier to handle than that... but something to do with his coolness, his friendliness power, or his excellent physique would be better. "One of these days, I might ask if the Ringmaster couldn't make it... I don't know, stripes, instead?"

"Stripes?" he asks, a little bit dazed from have been sleeping but swiftly waking up. He heads inside with Papyrus, leaving some skeleton footprints on the wood floor. "That's sounds purr-fect."

He chuckles loudly because he's thinking about how bizarre and funny it is that Papyrus ostensibly has some maybe cat thing going on, but how the two of them look so similar regardless. It's hard to tell the difference, when you take the meat off things.

"There," he says to Sistina once they are safely inside, still dripping on the floor. "This better?"

Papyrus mulls over that comment; he knows that tone of voice Sans gets when making puns. But what does it mean, what does perfect have to do with stripes...? Kids aren't perfect. They can be pretty great, especially when they're not hurting anybody, but even Papyrus would hesitate to describe himself as perfect.

"Much," Sistina tells him. "Take care of yourself, Sans." And, like getting the final word means she's won this conversation, she fades away.

As she disappears, a thought passes from Sistina to Papyrus - how Sans still sometimes treats him like a kid, that maybe that's what his brother means with that tone. Papyrus huffs, and gently kicks some of the snow back outside the door before closing it.

"Not like... kid stripes," he finally elaborates. "Cool stripes! Zig zaggy ones, like lightning bolts! Or something else, sharp and a little bit flashy."

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⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

EVENING B10 | CLOSED TO PAPYRUS

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