lostcarnival | ⇨ WISMUTH

Entry tags:

⇨ WISMUTH

Who: Everyone!
When: S2:D6-D11
Where: Wismuth and the Carnival Grounds
What: The carnival enjoys a few days in Wismuth, a coastal city on this planet's version of the American east. However, there are a few things very unique about this version of the planet...
Warnings: The usual, wholesome fun.

PILLAR OF CREATION↴

Upon arriving, things in Wismuth will seem pretty peaceful. It's a massive city, with no shortage of things going on, but things like violent crime and homelessness are at an all time low. You can wander the streets without much scrutiny, presumed to just be tourists, and most people here come across as helpful and friendly.

► VIBRANCY: The main thing that sets this planet apart is its vibrancy - AKA, the raw creative energy its filled with, flowing from its status as a Pillar of Creation. There is no literal pillar, but Wismuth and its planet is a place where Creation's energy comes through strongest. As a result, everything here feels somehow more real, more intense in a way that's hard to put a finger on. Life is abundant, and its bleeds through in every sensation.

► ATTRACTIONS: There are plenty of things to see while going around the city. First and foremost, there is a lovely beach area bordering the ocean, and a number of tourist aimed attractions built around it. There are giant malls, movie theaters, live stage performances, museums and all kinds of other points of cultural interest. Anything you can do in a big city you can do here, but better.

► ALLOWANCES: The Ringmaster will be giving everyone a reasonable amount of local currency for a few days on the town. You can't make any massive acquisitions with it, but it's more than enough to eat out, see some shows, go to the beach, and whatever you like. You can feel free to pick up some casual supplies, like mundane clothing and souvenirs. There will be more given out later, after the performance week.

► PERFORMANCE: Performance week is starting early this time, after only a couple days of exploration. When the carnival has already been on vacation for a month, the Ringmaster figures they may as well get right to it, and then do more touring afterwards. Members of the local populace will find themselves in the carnival once performances begin, dazzled by the other worldly sights. Magic doesn't seem to exist here, despite the fact that it will flow easier for people bringing it from other worlds.

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The nice thing about the wee hours of the morning is that no one is around.

'No one,' as a category, means not only Papyrus and the Psiionic, but the vast majority of the Carnival, with whom Foster gets along like a house on fire most of the time. And he specifically prefers it that way--not to put too fine a point on it, he'd much sooner they get it over with and kill him or he be directed to kill (almost) any of them than.... well, anyway.

The point is, 'avoiding everyone' is the reason he's out at the crack of dawn with a bottle of magical cleaning fluid and a squeegee, stretching his long equine legs at a brisk trot while he does a cleaning round.

So please, then, imagine his surprise when a silver-haired but otherwise vanilla-ice cream-on-a-white-plate plainass human pulls abreast of him at a strong jog.

Forgive him, Victor, because he's too busy giving you a Stare to answer that.

Victor likes this time of the morning for similar reasons of now one being around, though he enjoys people, enjoys seeing the world in that stillness before everything comes fully awake. He also enjoys some time to be on his own, but he's not trying to be on his own today.

Which is how he's ended up here. Jogging next to a horse-like bodied individual with startlingly furry arms and a cow's tail should be more than enough, but this individual also has ears that would be endearingly large if the mushrooms growing on them as a whole and the claws poking out of the ends of their arms didn't add up with all the rest into something very strangely put together. Holding a squeegee.

He manages not to stumble, keeping pace, and staring back. His eyebrows climb upward and he laughs, shaking his head and one hand, as if to dismiss his first question. "Sorry, it looks like I'm interrupting your morning routine?"

He has no idea what Foster is actually doing other than jogging with things in his hands. He has to look up simply to see Foster's face properly; but focusing on Foster's face is far easier than trying to make sense of the whole of the rest of him right now.

(He can add furry-armed centaurs to his mental inventory of "people who work here." Gaunt or otherwise, it's another first.)

The fact that this guy is keeping pace with him is the most jarring thing to Foster. Normally once he gets up to a trot, most people break into a run or fall behind--this guy is either a pro athlete or something more than human.

He's gripped with the need to go faster--to take it up to a canter, a lope, speed on ahead and leave this man in his dust.

The element of surprise has a lot to do with why Foster doesn't just do that right away--he's not really the most articulate to begin with, so what comes out of his mouth is extremely rude.

"Yes."

And he does pick up his pace--not a lot, but if Victor doesn't make an effort at it, he will get left in a minute or so.

Foster is nothing if not petty.

He debates for a hot half-second if he'll keep up or not, but he's already made the decision and adjusted the length of his stride, moving faster without getting into outright running territory. No point in putting that degree of stress on his knees, even if he did end up here in his newest runners. He might be getting a brushoff, but that'll confirm itself shortly.

For now, he chooses to ignore it, keeping an affable expression on his face. "Right, I won't keep distracting you for long." A pause, since he's speaking along with the cadence of his pace. "My name's Victor. What's yours?"

Introductions are usually a necessity somewhere along the line, if even just to know who one wished to avoid. He's been working on actually remembering everyone's name here, once he's been introduced.

Foster would have just pushed himself up to a canter, just to spite Victor--or test him, whichever--but there's something about the audacity of the man just introducing himself like that, with no fanfare or admission of Foster's... anything that he's actually stalled into answering.

In his own way.

"... Victor. Let me give you some advice." Their two-beat paces--Foster's trot and Victor's jog--beat asynchronous time. He's gotten better at this in some ways. Not at speaking to people, specifically, but at--yes--answering them. At telling them the truth, and having them see it. His expression has only changed from one definition of nonplussed to the other, his blue eyes bright with dim pre-dawn light.

"You shouldn't waste your time introducing yourself to garbage. Do you understand? It'll just be taken out at the end of the day!"

It's incredible how here, keeping pace with someone so distinctly different in appearance from anyone Victor knew four days earlier, he's reminded so strongly of Yuri, for a moment. He's struck by that, unexpected and unsought for, and smiles, looking forward for a moment.

He doesn't even know this person's name, which is what he's trying to rectify, but he has to wonder: is this reflection of self worth genuine, a deflection technique, or is it a comment on Victor? Because either Victor's getting taken out--or this person is.

"I've managed three days so far, myself. How long have you been here?"

Neither one of them have been just taken out, he's fairly sure. Taken out later, certainly possible, though he hopes just as certainly it doesn't happen. Victor glances back toward Foster, quirking his eyebrows and waiting for an answer to that question, if he'll be given one.

Smiling.... okay, Victor, you win a point for being an entire weirdo, or else missing the boat entirely, Foster isn't really sure which right now.

Truth is, Foster has no idea how long he's been win the Carnival. Time is... such a pressing, urgent thing for what is also an extremely nebulous concept, one he has no natural grasp of at all. Every second is a second he is keenly aware of, an agonised eternity expiring in each and every instant.

But also, he couldn't tell you how long ago dinner was, let alone when any given event in his life was.

So the answer he deadpans is... blatantly false. But he's expecting Victor is too new to know it.

"Ten years."

Foster technically took himself out not even a day before he came to the Carnival. Everything since then has been borrowed time.

Borrowed from what? Against what?

Better not to ask.

Victor can guess, based on conversations with Carly and several others at the carnival by now, that this is not a truthful answer. Which really, he shouldn't find surprising, and by and large, he doesn't. He already expects that he has a very superficial read on people or their capacities (Tyki comes to mind), and that's also probably just fine. He's under no driving need to understand people inside and out, but to know enough to get on or get by or to know who he can ignore while things remain more or less copacetic.

Still, he can manage his own pointedly cheery response to ten years. "Ten years and you've only managed the mushrooms? I'm not sure that counts as biodegradable."

They're all persistent trash here, apparently.

Foster is never surprised to be disbelieved, whether he's spoken the truth or not. He doesn't even falter--of course, it's specifically because he's antagonised by Victor's presence that he's so focused on his paces.

And it's specifically because Victor made the mistake of mentioning decomposition that a spark lights in his eyes--like he's recognised at last an old friend.

"The mushrooms are there to eat the rot," Foster replies with sudden avidity, a kind of vicious excitement. "I'm rotting from the inside out, a disease in--hahahaha--in formerly human form!"

Edited 2018-01-29 06:58 (UTC)

Fungal growth he associates with things like athletes foot too, so when Beartauroom seems to all but light up declaring he's rotting inside to outside, and the mushrooms are eating that rot, Victor speaks without thinking, because Beartauroom catches him that off guard.

"What, and no maggots?"

Look, he'd think for eating and health purposes, maggots would be involved, but the immediate mental image makes him want to promptly never consider it again. So he nods, pretends Beartauroom made sense, and breathes out as evenly as a fast jogging man can when dealing with the ridiculous, from his point of view. "So you basically support a whole ecosystem on your body. That's horrifying."

He smiles, close mouthed. "But educational."

Faerie Carnival is so much more messed up than he realised. And Beartauroom is diseased, living, also rotting, and possibly capable of being a one-person fungal buffet.

Check, please!

Foster laughs--loudly, actually, way too loudly for this hour of the morning when everyone is asleep.

"Yes--yes! I'm horrifying--nasty, revolting, putrid, diseased!" He leans over into Victor's face, which it turns out he can absolutely do, given his entire human torso where a horse's neck should be. "I'm everything but contagious. So I can't take you down with me!"

And his trot doesn't speed up so much as it exaggerates, as though temporarily infused with an increase in power that enhances his every movement. He can't keep up for very long, lacking as much muscle as he does, but he's so impassioned, so enthused by Victor's discomfort and disgust that for a few moments, he's... a sight.

So eager is he to make his point that he actually passes right by his intended destination, too; he only notices it because he's in Victor's face, and it only actually occurs to him a good handful of seconds after that. He stumbles--staggers, cutting Victor off and very nearly runs the man over before half-cantering, half-jumping around him to loop back around towards the carousel.

Somehow, in all of that, he doesn't touch Victor at all.

Edited 2018-02-10 09:01 (UTC)

Of the many things he's been faced with in his life, the equivalent of physical intimidation is only new when paired with the delighted laughter and declaration of Foster's own disgusting nature. Or something to that effect; Victor narrowed his eyes a degree, chin coming up in response to meet Foster's gaze, disgust still present but not longer in the foreground.

Almost immediately as Foster decries his own incommunicably diseased nature, Victor smiles. Too sharp, and that's on purpose, just like his airy tone of voice. He doesn't have an endless supply of tolerance, too blunt by nature, and he doesn't appreciate Foster's attitude.

"Oh, I wasn't worried about that. I'm not planning on riding or being ridden anytime soon!" He waves his fingers with that cheery tone and that sharp smile.

Foster realising he's overshot his destination and cutting Victor off led to the mutual dance of two men who had no intention of touching for different reasons; in spite of himself Victor might have admired the stumbling grace behind Foster managing to not only cut him off but do so without physically running into him if he hadn't also been throwing himself backward, leaving him breathing hard from exertion and the sudden spike in adrenaline while Foster takes off. He stares after him for a moment, raking his fingers through the fringe of his bangs. Then he turns away from the man he'll probably remember as the hairy mushroom centaur--Hairoomtaur?--shaking his head, angling toward his eventual goal at the cookhouse.

Really, at least he was getting to know the array of personalities around his new workplace, but...

...growing mushrooms on their bodies? Yes, it's sickening, and disconcerting, and he'd prefer alcohol to wash the image away. He'll settle for tea, however, and the gentle sort of avoidance where he figures they probably can manage to avoid each other most the time. After all, it hadn't seemed like he'd particularly impressed Hairoomtaur. It'd all work out in the end.

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⇨ WISMUTH

Morning Cuppa! Or. Uh. Hm.

this is the morning stare-a-thon

Winner gets doughnuts!

Loser gets the holes!

How DARE you be wittier than me!

The real wit is whoever walks in with doughnut holes at the end of this thread!!!

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGYd8x1cuaY&t=29s (Please mute this. Or don't.)

LAUGHASD also im sorry for this tag