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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sometimes, Foster doesn't like Reira at all.

When she reminds him of what she knows. When she forgets what they both know. Sometimes even when her orders skirt too close to something that might as well be caring, even without the sentiment attached.

This is one of those times. Not the last, but the first, and the moment of enmity flickers in and out of existence, to be replaced with the corrected state of shameful, exhilarated, endured humility, that she can see through him and put him in his place with such swiftness, lay bare his weaknesses and strip him to his defective core!

He has no tail with the glamour, so there is no physical sign of his mood that the layperson's eye could see; his face briefly projects dispassionate apathy, not the withering ache that's still clutching the space inside his rib cage.

But he laughs, because of course he does. "It's stupid," he informs her.

Yes of course he does. She sighs-perhaps a somewhat impatient sigh, it would certainly be easy to impose that kind of image on such a sigh, but regardless the point is that she's sighing. She'll probably have to find another way around Caring Orders one day but hopefully she can get away with that a little longer. But regardless, that isn't that time. There's a slight grimace as enmity comes and goes, before a raised eyebrow is brought forward in reply to..Everything else.

"..........Ok..." Ok. So it's 'stupid'. Well, that's one point about it, that she can log away then. But that's also only one point and not really one that works out the best. Mostly because her indicator of what's stupid is sort of 'anything that doesn't really make sense that people are still insisting on doing.'

That's a lot of things. "....That only tells me it's stupid though. ...What's the rest of it?"

"Over." Foster responds with full bluntness.

If he were possessed of you know, some goddamn common sense and the ability to predict people, he would have stopped there. But he doesn't--he barely has the tattered shreds of his own inhibition left to him, and from his vantage, what he says next is a necessary reminder of his fault here, a public confession of shameful choices.

"It was.... a mistake."

Not what he did to Ginko, no, nor his use of Mimikyu to pull it off. That feat would have been impossible without it. He doesn't regret telling Sans to do what he wished with Mimikyu either. He regrets failing, and he regrets discovering he'd gotten somehow attached to the creature--something he only learned in its absence. Of course.

He'd almost grown to believe that it was a mistake meant to spur him to greater effort, as his necromancy would not have grown without its motivation, and his still-uninformed service to Reira and his writ path in the manor both took root from that error.

But the fact that it's resurfaced to haunt him... is proof of what depths in him his mistake still lies fallow.

Over. There is plenty of finality with that of course, not that Reira would have likely left it at that regardless. Reira herself, after all, doesn't quite possess the right amount of common sense either. She does have that skill in prediction for the most part though, which leaves her to study, and frown, as Foster does indeed go on.

"A mistake?" she repeats, furrowing her brows. "...If it's a mistake, do you just not want to fix it, then..?" It would not be the only thing Foster didn't want to fix, after all. He didn't want to fix himself, or so he claimed-leave the rotting brain to rot, leave things to decay and spiral, or however it worked for him. It's a messy, confusing state of things, but she supposes it's in the best interest to push.

At least in this case. "...Is it something that hurts other things?" she questions, looking to Foster carefully. Foster wouldn't care, necessarily, if it only hurt him.

But it could be important, naturally, if it were more than only that.

"That wasn't a mistake," Foster replies without hesitation--it's a little sharp, though not as dipped in venom. "That was the point." He pauses, studying his memories; then, somewhat more ruminatively:

"Not the purpose, but the path."

The question about 'fixing' his mistake is soundly ignored; there are no fixable mistakes, and there's certainly no 'fixing' this. There's no 'fixing him. The only 'fix' for this mistake is to move on. There's no point in anything else.

And thinking about this mistake is only a distraction from the other, real mistake. That one isn't a mistake at all. It was a failure.

....and that's what keeps this on his mind. As long as he's failed with Ginko, his so-called 'loss' wasn't a casualty, it was a waste.

No wonder it bothers him so much.

The moment he answers-sharp that it is, and grimace-inducing as it is as a result-she has the feeling he didn't understand what she said. So, she thinks about...well. How she said it. If he didn't get it the first time, then obviously saying the same thing over and over again won't work. But, she can't obviously....leave it either. She hadn't said anything about what WAS the mistake though, so she supposes that's the first thing to get clear on the table.

"I didn't ask what the mistake was," she says flatly, inclining her head somewhat. Next part, next part...Hmm.

"...There's lots of paths you can take, after you make a mistake. ...Sometimes the right one fixes it. ...Not all the way," she admits, knowing quite well that her own couldn't be 'fixed' exactly. "...But it gets things closer to where it should be." So.

From there, perhaps, this will make sense again. "...If things aren't where it should be... ...If you don't fix part of the mistake....will people that aren't you, get hurt?" Trying that again, Foster.

What can be prevented? What can't?

She...

...didn't ask. She didn't ask? He can't... remember. Did she? Bo, more than that, why wouldn't she? That's what trips him up hardest--that Reira doesn't even expect an accounting, a confession of his offenses, his--

"My mistake isn't related to my failure. So. Yes."

That's kind of the point, in fact.

He actually has no idea what's happened to Mimikyu at this point; more specifically, he has no idea if Sans would be the type to specifically tell him if anything had happened to Mimikyu at all or deliberately choose to keep him in the dark about it. It is entirely possible that Sans long ago got rid of the Pokemon in some way and has been taking Foster's goods and eating them himself, or perhaps throwing them away. Maybe he finds it funny, or to serve as a kind of punishment.

"I'll.... just have to try again. Eventually."

Alright. She nods. "Mnh. ...If it hurts someone else, that makes it really important, so..." She has an answer-one that makes sense to her, at least-and hopefully will continue to make sense. It might have Foster tripping, but the fact is, it hardly took long to realize that he wasn't going to just Worry About Himself overnight. ...Let alone over a few weeks, really. If he doesn't care about what happens to himself, but wants to do things that...involve being used, or something like that, then the answer to figuring out what's wrong is probably to see if it affects anyone else.

And then, if it doesn't, she gets to be stuck on a lovely ride of dodging the topic of caring. Because heck knows she can't just sit idle when someone is Upset, let alone Foster-who-never-gets-sad.

It's hardly a worry though, if she'll have to take that ride. He just said 'yes' after all.

So...back to the Mistake. "...What was the mistake, then?" she asks. "...What happened, more than just what the ending was. ....What made it become a mistake?"

Give her the process, Foster-this clearly needs sorting after all.

In a rare moment of awareness, it occurs to Foster just how absurd this is--confessing his sins to a child this small, this... he doesn't actually know how old Reira is, because he doesn't actually care.

It has very little bearing on how he perceives her, anyway. Every living thing, adult or child, bird or elf, is inevitably going to be a superior being, whose opinions and feelings merit more thought than his.

And he's certain he could ask anyone and they'd agree: Reira has more sense than him.

How sad is that!

"I took Sans' bait, I guess, but if I'd kept to my original plan, it wouldn't have mattered. I was... impatient. Too soon, and he wouldn't listen."

But too late, and Ginko might not have been alive to reach the right conclusions.

So he'd tried to tell him--

And that was the mistake.

It's rather astounding what can come out just because of a change in the audience. Perceptiveness certainly works in her favor of course-being able to actually pick up on what to say or what not to say, admittedly with the reasoning being for 'benefit' rather than 'survival' for once, is potentially throwing her a good number of steps ahead of the game.

Even if she doesn't realize it.

She does, fortunately, have more sense than he does however....even if it isn't necessarily the case in All things (or the right ones, for that matter).

Sans' bait? She listens, thinking it over. She has no idea what Sans has to do with it, but perhaps more details can clear that up. She just nods-understanding at least that...well. Sans probably wouldn't listen about something he disagreed with, she's pretty sure, but-

"..What was the original plan?" she asks, and then... "....how did he make 'bait'?"

"Wait," Foster frowns at her.
"Weren't you... here for it? The mushi, and the mountain andthe lake?" Foster's account of relevant details probably leaves something to be desired--then again, if Reira needed any details other than 'the mushi,' there was very little chance she knew what he was talking about at all. Details or no details.

The surf rolls in, covering his feet, and rolls back out as he talks.

"It doesn't matter. None of it matters at this point. There are no second chances." Disgust and disdain are clear in his voice.

"Sans... made an attempt to... mmmm." He has to think about the words. "To... frighten me by taking away what I had."

That comes out with a hollow edge, mocking the idea of 'having' anything at all. Or rather, of having anything to take away. It could have been a good effort if it weren't effectively the same as robbing a corpse--what does it matter, really?

It only matters because he failed. And that's his fault. Not Sans'.

"The day I met you," she replies easily, "Is the day I got here." It's much sooner, truly. Much, much sooner. Soon enough that not even Portland could ever possibly reply, which means nothing could ever be 'reminded' for her. Mushi, mountain, lake...who knows. She sure doesn't have a clue, but she does consider things.

"...What did they take?" she asks, deciding at least to get that question out of the way. And as foolish as it sounds, well- "...If it was supposed to scare you..but it didn't.... ...What would happen if you said 'give it back'? ...It wouldn't have to be a new chance. It'd just be something else now." Or maybe that's the wrong thing to say. Even she seems to realize it, furrowing her brow. Hmm.

"....You said it's over, and 'stupid', even though it's making you feel something... ...but..." Ah, she's found what's Important to say.

"....If it's going to hurt someone else, who else is going to get hurt?"

Oh.

Well, that explains some things. A lot of things, actually. He'd wondered why she'd approached him to begin with, why she wasn't frightened away or even bothered by his.... nature. She hadn't even known. She still doesn't know.

He experiences a simultaneous moment of triumph and disappointment.

"I see."

That was definitely not the right thing to follow up with, though, and the side-eye she receives--with cold, flattened affect--is not a brief one.

"Who else?" he asks, as though the answer should be obvious. "Anyway, Ginko--" and here he has to stop and acknowledge the irony of that lead-in with a thin smile. "Already 'asked.'"

And if the so-called 'victim's' plea for mercy falls on deaf ears...

"Which is simply proof... that Sans has more sense than Ginko does," he finishes, a final thought.

Um.

She frowns. Heavily. "....People asking for your things isn't like you asking for your things," she flatly corrects. The words of a man from her own world echo in her mind. Words that it took ages, and ages, and ages (really, just a few days, but regardless)....

It took so long to grill it into Yuuya's mind, she wonders if it's worth telling Foster.

...Yet she decides to try anyway. "If you want something, really want something-even if you're not supposed to, or even if it's something you think is impossible, you don't make someone else get it. You go yourself," she insists, her voice gaining an alarming amount of confidence as she mimics the former 'duel king' of her world. "You have to chase it, and you only-because as soon as you use someone else to do it... ...You're not showing them your words at all. ...which means," she adds, nodding, "...that it's not about them having sense."

"...It means you didn't show Sans what he has to have sense about. You just lied."

...But that said.

"...I don't know the 'who' that you said is going to be hurt because of your mistake, is. Unless it's Ginko, or Sans..." But her tone says she doesn't really expect it to be those two.

That hits a nerve.

Foster doesn't really emote openly--he just continues to stare at Reira sidelong, something else percolating behind his eyes.

"Not asking for what I don't deserve isn't a lie," he replies, slowly. Dangerously. "It's simply a fact. I was the one caught by surprise when Ginko asked Sans for Mimikyu. If I'd known--"

He stops, a look on his face like there's something vile in his mouth.

He hadn't known Ginko would do that, but he also didn't stop him. Not until after the first rejection, when Ginko had refused to accept reality, and persisted in spite of the risk to himself--which is the moment when Foster really grasped how little sense Ginko had.

But he had waited until after Ginko's bid was denied to speak up, because he was after all a stupid creature, and he couldn't see that inevitable truth until it was stated outright.

Except he did. He'd simply let Ginko lead him astray, let Ginko lead him to believe that it wasn't true. Even though he knew--as Sans knew--that he wasn't to be trusted, and that he was wasting his time believing in impossibilities.

It comes back again, the wrenching pain in his ribcage, and he bites down, pressing the sharp, staple-remover plates of his teeth together as the feeling floods the inside of his skull. The feeling of failure, of futility and fatalism and intense loathing, the hopeless feeling that he's been given more than he can possibly handle, and that rather than keep trying to fulfill that fate, he should simply die.

It's been months since he was hit with it, so thoroughly had he subliminated that urge--but in Wismuth, it's strong enough to come back.

Edited 2018-01-31 05:54 (UTC)

Now that's interesting. Ginko did it without asking? He didn't...know ahead of time?

"...'Mimikyu'?" That's a name, Reira realizes. It's not something that's an object, not when it's Just 'Mimikyu'. That's a name. And a name means it's something alive, which means- "....You think....Mimikyu could get hurt." Because Ginko wouldn't be hurt, Sans definitely wouldn't be hurt...but the Mimikyu could. ...Not that she thinks Sans would do anything to hurt something else, whatever this Else is, but.

"...Mnhh. I guess if you didn't know what Ginko would do, then it's not a lie anymore.... ...It's not because you should ask for what you don't deserve. It's because you should tell someone you don't deserve it yourself, if you think that's true. Letting someone else decide something and say something for you... ....That's what the lie is. ...But I guess you didn't do that, then," she determines, frowning. The feelings in the air....they're not unfamiliar from Foster, so as uncomfortable as it is, she presses on.

"....But....Sans probably didn't think that, I guess." At the very least, it wasn't what she thought was the case, even knowing how Foster was. So... "...........Why did Ginko say something? ....What did you tell him?"

Little does she know, it was more than just the saying. It was also the 'doing'.

"Sans didn't think anything." He didn't have to. He knew, and it didn't need saying.

"You don't have to tell trash it's trash every time you throw something away," he informs her coldly.

"Anyway, I don't know if it's even possible for it to be hurt." He doesn't know where she even got that idea--and he's too depleted to dig it out.

It's still in his chest, that awful knot, and he considers going back to the sea, he wants to walk out again, wade out further, deeper until he can't feel the bottom, until the waves are rolling in not over his brown feet but his saltwater-soaked blonde head. Until the sea is surrounding him, engulfing him, swallowing him until seawater fills his throat, his lungs, until it drags him under over and over until he doesn't rise any more.

Which is a particularly violent feeling to have hazing his thoughts on the other side of this conversation.

But he realises she's right, at least on some level. He should confront Sans. He should make Sans say it, tell him to his face, in those words how much he can't be trusted, how much he doesn't deserve, how lucky he is that this isn't all he's unworthy of--that the effort involved in truly punishing him is more than something so disgusting can earn, even at its worst.

Maybe that's what haunts him. Maybe he just... needs the closure, the pain and pleasure of hearing it with his own ears. Then he can stop chasing ghosts and tasting bile in every mouthful of banana.

"Do you know what Sans is thinking?" It's a challenging statement, definitely one she expects will Not Go Well, but... ...She also finds herself defensive of the skeleton, admittedly, and she continues on in hopes of perhaps appealing to Foster's own interests in the meantime. "People have different ways to call things 'trash'. But even with that sort of thing... ...they don't have the same thoughts, if something else is said by someone else. That's just how things happen. Even if it's 'trash', it could be the wrong kind of trash." Not that Foster is trash, but also she's trying to make this make 'sense'.

It probably doesn't. Mimikyu is what's important, however. "You don't know if they can't be hurt," she corrects. "....that makes them important." Not you Foster. Them. Think about the Mimikyu, in this case. She swallows thickly as some sort of...emotion comes through, and tries not to think too hard about whatever Foster must be thinking about. "....you still didn't tell me why Ginko said something," she adds. "...You talked to him about something, but... ...whatever you said, that made Ginko try to talk to Sans, right?" So something clearly happened.

"...If it's something that's alive, I don't want to ignore it either. ...But, it's also something you're supposed to be in charge of, I guess. It's something you lost somehow, so now you have to be the one to ask for them back." She doesn't obviously know HOW they were lost, just...that they are.

And that it made Foster sad. She can't focus on it making Foster sad however, so she frowns. "...What happens, if they can be hurt..?" She wonders that. She doesn't think Sans would hurt it obviously, but if you don't know how to look after something, it gets hurt really easy.

And that worries her now.

Foster goes stiff, the distinct feeling that he's not being heard settling directly on top of his already-miserable condition like a the upper levels of an earthquake-shaken building.

Because the way Reira is defending Sans gives him the distinct impression she's arguing with him about something else--and no, he doesn't like it.

But the threat implicit in the end of her argument... that rattles him.

And the pressure from Reira, unrelenting, unremitting, is... almost unbearable. This is what he respects about her, and what he forgets, almost, every time--until she chooses to deploy it, and then it's almost paralytic, pressing down on him; pushing ruthlessly outward; a steady, unyielding, implacable force with this child at its source.

Mimikyu was, as far as Foster had been able to tell, indestructible. It ate, but couldn't starve. It was physical and real, a solid body--but simultaneously incorporeal, a very literal living(?) shadow. He got the vibe Mimikyu wasn't alive, or rather, existed in some nebulous liminal space between living and unliving. For all he knew, it was only the Pokemon's stuffed costume that gave it tangible form at all outside of the clawed hands that reached out from under its guise.

Could Mimikyu be hurt, at all--? Even if it could--even if it couldn't, Sans had been keeping the Pokemon captive for months now, his indefinite prisoner.

And that--

Foster realises, very abruptly, that he has no way to complete that thought rationally. Justifiably.

He just... looks blank.

He looks blank, but the inside is a damn mess of 'tells'...not that most of the tells make sense. As usual. There's definitely confusion but that confusion is gone fast, with what replacing it coming up to be something that at least seems to tell her that maybe, maybe, he can go fix his mistake now. He's realized a connection! Great!

...Wait, she realizes, keeping a smile from her face. Foster can certainly FEEL attached to something, but with Foster, he probably won't think he deserves it, either. That was pretty much what they were arguing about in the first place, the entire reason she had to try and make it 'about Mimikyu' instead.

...She thinks. She thinks, and she thinks, and-

"...If someone from the Carnival is getting hurt, or could get hurt... ...Does ignoring it mean you're breaking the rules?" Let her check this-and let her see if, maybe, Foster's answer can tell Foster himself a good enough reason to pursue his odd dreams.

"Am I?" He asks, not quite rhetorically. His eyes narrow slightly; there's no equine body language to give away more, no bovine ears, but scepticism and pensiveness are not difficult emotions to get a read on. There's a sort of nihilism to it.

"Am I the one breaking the rules?" He's staring past her, out over the ocean. Some cogwheel has started turning in his head--slowly maybe, but turning nonetheless.

By the Carnival's reckoning... it's apparently fine for him to trap and dispatch whatever he wants in the barn that isn't part of the animal inventory. So it's not a matter of being alive or not.

Mimikyu doesn't have a contract. So it's not a member of the Carnival.

Could it be, though?

Is Mimikyu a 'person?' Or is it 'property?'

If Mimikyu is.... a person.... which is hilarious, really, but feasible given he commanded it the way he did... then why is it being held prisoner for Foster's crime? Why does its punishment extend past Foster's own....?

If it's property, though....

Either way, he'll need to know.

Hoooboy. Reira grimaces, wondering if this might be a bit too much of a stretch. Trying to get Foster to do something that benefits him, without letting him know it's benefiting him. She watches, was he stares out to the sea, vauge and empty emotions blending with unknown thoughts. She tries a final point.

"...If the animals in the menagerie count as the Carnival's...and the ones in the woods count as the Carnival's..." ...Then even an animal that wasn't a contracted being would be property of the carnival, in a sense. But of course, then, if it's more than just an animal...

...Well Reira doesn't think of it like that. From the start of when he said 'Mimikyu', she thought of some sort of mousey thing that Foster perhaps owned at one point, a small pet that just sort of existed around him for whatever reason.

She supposes she's become a bit like that as well, so she focuses on what's key again. "...Do you know what to do now, at least?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Well. It's... sort of a mousey thing, if one considers a voidish monstrosity in a ragged puppet mouse cosplay to be a 'mousey thing.'

It's certainly more than a mere animal--and yet seems to occupy a role akin to one, despite its intelligence and abilities. In truth, that may be why Foster coexisted to easily with it, why he found it so easy to understand, and why he never found its autonomy threatening or insulting by either turn.

Foster continues to stare out over the ocean, but instead of flat emptiness, he's wearing an expression of what might be considered 'grim resolve.' He's interpreted Reira's question not as a sincere search for confirmation but as a sort of chastisement--a sort of 'do you get it now?' criticism coded into the reminder that he is meant to do.

The raised eyebrow kinda helps with that.

That's absolutely a mousey thing. It's hiding from everything by wearing a mouse cosplay. It's totally a mousey thing.

There is little more to be said and done here though. Reira realizes that, from how Foster is acting, from how he's 'feeling' in a sense...so she looks out at the sea for a bit herself, before turning away. She's evidently done here, so...

Peep!

"Mnn... ...I'm going to get ice cream now, I think," she decides, glancing back at Foster. If he comes, he comes-she won't ask if he wants to, that's a huge no. She just gives him a minute before going back to where she has her bike right now.

She really hopes this works out, honestly.

He doesn't get up right away, still staring out over the ocean--its vast distances and depths, the endless motions and patterns of existence, the abyss at one extreme and at the other....

He returns enough to reality just in time for Reira to begin walking away.

Foster hesitates, just another moment. Then, with more effort than it should probably take for a simple human--taking more time that it should for a simple human--he gets up, and follows.

He has nothing better to do with himself, after all.

He might as well... serve who he can. Where he can.

In this case, that probably means paying for ice cream.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

⇨ WISMUTH

no subject

no subject

Bad Fatigue Day.... if the tag doesn't make sense, I'll fix it later tonight.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

TW suicidal ideation

no subject

TW suicidal ideation, graphic drowning (fantasy)

reira please love yourself-

Good news: CW has ended.... mostly

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

annnd thread end

NOW thread end. We gotta know if he gets the ice cream, okay.