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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Unlike many of the other Carnival workers, 9S is still unchanged, his appearance still human-like save for his legs; his synthetic flesh has melted off the back of his knees and sides of his calves and thighs, exposing his metal frame. As usual, Pod 153 hovers not far from his shoulder and his eyes are covered by his visor.

So it might be strange that he's seemingly following her gaze towards the 'swan' and also tilting his head. Sorry, he's not seeing it. But that's mostly because....

"What's a swan?"

Far be it from Lavellan to avoid or look down upon those obviously less human than the rest -- her stature and her ears mark her as anything but, at least where she's from. But she still can't help the way her eyes widen at the newness of just how not human everyone here seems to be. She notices that someone has covered up his -- he can't be much older than a teenager, can he? -- his eyes, and wonders how he can see it at all.

"A bird," she supplies, rather unhelpfully. "Large and white, with a long neck." Considering this, Lavellan decides that perhaps that's not the best description if he can't see. "They make a startling sound, like they're full of nothing but rage -- a hiss. And they bite."

Edited 2017-12-05 16:42 (UTC)

9S' instinct on meeting someone new is to discreetly scan them to get an understanding of what they are physically. The stranger looks similar to Taako with the ears, so 9S is expecting his sensors to report back something similar: some kind of humanoid being that isn't a human, despite the appearance.

"They bite? But birds don't have teeth!" Sounds fake. 9S sounds distinctly skeptical. "Are you sure they're a kind of bird? Birds usually flee from danger."

Guess who doesn't have much experience with birds? This guy.

There is nothing special about her, beyond the missing arm and the distinct non-human nature of her; her eyes would reflect light in the dark, but that was simply another part of being an elf. At least where she's from.

Lavellan grins, and shakes her head. Something about him makes her think of the younger members of her clan -- always ready with questions, including ones she doesn't know. "One doesn't need teeth to bite," she assures him. "But I'm sure a swan is a kind of bird. Has wings, a beak, feathered, lays eggs."

She uses all of those together to imply what makes a bird, if only because in Thedas one can mix and match and come up with something not very bird like at all.

Just another weird almost human-looking humanoid, then. Since she's not a human, then she won't be afforded any additional respect. As long as she's not a Gem or any other sort of alien that invaded Earth, then he can get along just fine.

"Hmm, if you say so."

That description does match up with what he knows of birds, so he can't completely discount what she's saying. Though the does notice something else...

"The description says it's a squirrel, though."

"Perhaps the artist was in error? Although," she smiles, almost sheepishly. "I'm not entirely sure what a squirrel is." It doesn't look like anything she knows of in Thedas, and Lavellan has spent all her life running around forests. Which is presumably were the creatures is, if it eats nuts.

Strange to think of this placing having different animals -- but physical change was something that happened regularly here, so she shouldn't be that surprised. Humming, Lavellan shakes her head. "I suppose it's a matter of interpretation."

9S never understood art. Most androids don't. And whenever they tried to create art of their own, there was always something missing.

"But if it's in the description, that's what it is," he insists. Since they both don't know what a squirrel is, there's only one way to be certain. It's a bit of a long shot since they're not connected to the Bunker any more, but... "Pod? Do you have any visual data on squirrels?"

The previously silent robot pipes up, speaking in a robotic but distinctively female sounding voice.

< Negative. Cannot establish connection to Bunker databases >

The voice from the metal being takes Lavellan by surprise -- she has heard of the golems of the dwarves, but they were supposed to be tall and made from stone. Not hovering in the air as if kept aloft by magic. Her eyes grow wide as she stares at it, curious rather than with fear.

"What is it? And... what is 'Bunker'?" Lavellan doesn't reach out to try and touch it, but it's a near thing -- the urge is there, as is her obvious curiosity. But she has practice at holding herself back, and doesn't wish to offend the pair of them.

9S glances up at the robot. "Oh, you mean Pod 153?"

He raises his hand into a fist and the pod bumps it with one of its four arms.

"Its my tactical support unit. It assists me in everything from combat to data gathering. The Bunker is the station we operated out of. Its servers store our data, anything from information gathered about the old world, to the personality and memory data of androids like me."

Pod 153. And... whatever it is they're doing that seems to be an understood gesture between the two of them. Lavellan watches it with curiosity, even if most of the words she doesn't understand or have the context to. But she thinks she puts it together well enough.

Well, until he says androids, which clearly means nothing to her. "I'm sorry-- androids like you?" It's not a term she's familiar with, so her curiosity overcomes her. She'll ply him with questions as long as he indulges her, honestly. "So you're not human." Well, humans normally didn't just have white hair, Lavellan supposed, that was more of an elf thing.

He's happy to talk; after all, he's just as curious, too.

9S shakes his head. "I'm a mechanical being modelled after my human creators." He salutes, left hand over where his heart would be. "I'm a YoRHa Number 9 Type S model, but I usually go by 9S."

It's all said with a smile, though if his eyes weren't covered by his visor, it'd be obvious it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's proud of being an android, but proud of being YoRHa? Maybe once, when he was filled with glorious purpose, full of belief in Command, but not any more.

The closest thing she knows of is the golems used by the dwarves, and even then her knowledge is sketchy about things not of flesh and blood made alive. Cole is -- well, Cole is different. He possessed no one, not even an empty shell of a body or a corpse. The smile on 9S is encouraging -- rightly or wrongly -- and Lavellan presses forward with her questions.

"9S," she says, committing it to memory. "I'm Lavellan." Just Lavellan. She tries not to think about that. "May I ask what it is that you do? Or did, back in your world." The salute reminds her of her time in the Inquisition, but he looks like a child, and therefore her brief consideration of what he could have done in his world to elicit that response is exactly that -- brief.

There's a brief but uncomfortable pause. The words used to fall so easily from his lips, but it's hard to feel the same enthusiasm for his work that he used to. Finding out what YoRHa did to him killed that enthusiasm, big time.

"I'm a Scanner, so my primary function is scouting enemy lines and supporting our war against the machine lifeforms. My secondary function is gathering information regarding the old world so we can better understand humans."

But he might not go back. He doesn't know. A part of him wants to. To return to what he knows. To return to his directive to serve mankind. A part of him wants to let them all rot.

(Except 2B, of course.)

"Us androids are created to serve mankind, so our aim is to win the war and prepare the Earth for humans to return to their homeland. Once that's done..." We'll enter a new age of peace. He'd been excited about the prospect of being jobless once. Now the thought is terrifying. "...I guess there won't be any need for androids."

Something about the way he describes his life tugs at a part of Lavellan that isn't given over to her goal, to simply making it through one day to face the next. What does one do, when you've outlived your purpose?

The ghost of her hand twinges, and for a moment a sympathetic expression crosses her face. Lavellan has avoided answering that question for herself as long as possible -- perhaps 9S will find an easier answer. After all, he's young, less set in his ways. It isn't as if he has only ever wanted to be one thing, only to find it based on lies, pulled out from under him by a man she thought--

It doesn't matter.

"Can you not find some other purpose?" Lavellan says, with a small shrug. "You fight a war on behalf of the humans, and yet gain nothing in return?" It seems almost like slavery. Perhaps she has more in common with him than she would like to admit ever sharing with someone who looks only barely into their teens.

That's what Cole had told him. To find a new purpose, one that would make him happy. But the truth is that serving humans does make him happy. It's just...

Well, Cole's right that he wouldn't be happy if he went back home now.

9S shakes his head, she doesn't understand. "I was created to serve. I'm not born in the sense you are," he's assuming she's born, given the biological nature of her being, "but you could say I was 'born' a soldier. So fighting on behalf of my human creators is reward enough."

The joy of serving is what he gets in return.

"But finding another purpose is..." 9S wracks his brain, trying to find a way that would satisfactorially explain the situation. He doesn't know if Lavellan's experience is anything like Strange's experience of 'growing up', but... "For us androids, we're created with purpose in mind, serving from the moment we are 'born'. All my functions are designed specifically for my role in the war. I didn't learn how to scout. I am a scout. Does that make sense?"

The inherent magical nature of elves doesn't influence how they're born, at least, not anymore. And if that were ever different, it's something that Lavellan is ultimately unaware of beyond what snatches of knowledge she gleaned from thousand year old memories -- of being kin to spirits, and of shedding bodies. And yet when he speaks he reminds her of spirits, with one purpose and one goal.

Solas might have something to say about it, about the importance of choice and free will. But Lavellan isn't Solas, so she nods as she accepts his words. "Born a soldier -- how old are you?" For he's a teenager to her, and even then she has a hard time wrapping her mind around someone sending children out to fight.

But she tries, and nods again. "It does. I can't say I know the exact feeling, but I know a similar one." For she was born a mage, that is what she is, and for the Dalish that meant she would be First, and Keeper. She had to learn -- unlike him, apparently -- but it was what she was, what she always considered she was.

At the age question, 9S' expression immediately sours. Age had never been a problem back home, but after the ribbing he got because he's the youngest in the Carnival, he's more than a little touchy about it.

"Why is age so important? It's not like I'm biological and go through a period where I need to cared for by adults. I'm fully functional from the moment I'm alive."

Can't he be judged on his deeds?? If he knew that people would respect him less because of his age, he would've lied about it during that public poll!

His dislike takes Lavellan by surprise, and she tries her best to explain it. "You don't look like you are," she points out, with a small shrug. "Whether you're capable of functioning independently or not, the first response isn't to look at you and think 'fully functional', but 'this child needs guidance and protection'." Can they really be blamed for doing so? Or think that he's much too young to be fighting at first glance.

Which makes her wonder. "If age does not matter, why were you created in the image of a child?"

"What? I'm not--! A child is smaller!"

A child is someone like Reira, not him!

But... it's true that he's not as... bulky as the male models in the Resistance. The appearance of muscle seemed kind of pointless to him; they're androids! But now he feels self conscious! Maybe he'd be taken more seriously if he looked more like human males in some of the video data they uncovered...?

9S kicks at the snow with his boot, pouting. "I don't know why I'm modelled this way. But all the other Scanners have the same build. Maybe it's because we're not combat units." He quickly adds, "But I can fight." One of the few Scanners who can. "So I don't need to be protected."

Says the guy with the skin melted off his legs. His hands, too, though those are covered by his gloves.

"I didn't say you couldn't," Lavellan says in an attempt to pacify him, holding out her hand to calm him. "But someone your age fighting isn't a common sight." Even in Thedas, which Lavellen thinks is saying something -- after all, she's fought demons and Templars with rocks growing out of them, and Darkspawn, and whatever else it's thrown at her. But no children. Never children.

The kick brings her attention to his legs, and she frowns further. "It will be an uphill battle when you're surrounded by people unfamiliar with 'androids'." Something he no doubt knows. "But your... function?" Is that the right word? Must be. "Is clearly not determined by anything else other than what you were programmed to do. It may not be impossible to change that."

Which is hypocritical coming from Lavellan -- not knowing what to do now that everything she thought she knew had been taken from her, exposed as a lie. But she's always been a hypocrite.

He thought he was supposed to have free will. What a joke. He can think all he wants, but when it comes down to it, he can't bring himself to hurt a human, no matter how much he wants to. And even his thoughts would slide away from the idea. And even though he looked, he can't untangle that part of programming from the rest of himself.

If he were to purge that function from himself, he would lose too much of his personality data. Then would he really be himself any more?

He doesn't respond initially; it's different for androids. So he asks a different question, calmer, "How old do you think I am?"

This isn't the first time he's gotten grief over his age from a pointy eared humanoid.

What a question. Lavellan doesn't answer for a moment, looking him over as she tries to come up with an honest answer. Not one that will settle his nerves or his temper -- that's not the sort of person she is, for better or worse.

"Not old enough to have gotten these," she says, gesturing to the tattoos on her face, "if you were Dalish. One is an adult when one can sit through the process without crying." But he's not Dalish, or from Thedas, so Lavellan tries to put it into terms he'd understand. "Over ten years, but not yet fifteen?" That seemed a good enough guess, but where he fell into that, she doesn't know.

So younger than Rita, huh...? Is that how old people view him as? He doesn't understand why age is so important to biological beings, though. It's not as if personality comes from age!

Maybe it's best if he stays silent on his actual age; Lambert had been bully enough thinking he's 3 years old. Imagine the reaction if he said it was actually closer to 3 months.

"I bet I could," he says loftily, folding his arms. Not that he knows what's involved in getting those markings. "I've never cried for anything."

She pauses, frowns, and then looks at him once more. "Did that not hurt?" She asks, gesturing to his legs. If he hasn't cried for anything, then perhaps he's simply not able to feel pain. Like the dwarven golems were rumored to be like -- created with a single minded purpose. That, at least she understands.

But if he did feel pain, and didn't cry when that happened? Well. Lavellan remembers the ache in her arm, the way it had been mangled beyond recognition before it had disintegrated as Solas left through the eluvian. A final parting gift, Lavellan supposed. She had cried then, near the end, as the pain of it had nearly overtaken her, as the frustration and the loss of everything had crashed in around her as the mirror went black.

it wasn't something she was proud of, no, but no one was there to have seen her. Just her and the statues Solas had left in his wake, the angry, twisted faces of Qunari forever immortalized in stone.

"I do feel pain, if that's what you're asking."

Granted, by human standards, it takes a lot to really injure him in the first place. The swords used by androids mimic the human weaponry featured in many of the records from the old world, but they're sharp enough to slice through metal with little issue. They had to be, when the enemy was also made from metal like themselves.

But unlike machines, androids had a fascimile of nerves. Androids would feel pain if you ripped off their arm. Machines wouldn't.

9S shifts from foot to foot. "It did hurt. It hurt as much as you would hurt if you hugged a white-hot flame with your entire body." With few other choices available to him, he had no other option but to strangle Rita to death while she tried to burn him alive. "But I'm a soldier." He feels like he needs to emphasise that point. "We have to be able to put aside our pain to do what has to be done."

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