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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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.

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⇨ WISMUTH

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TW suicidal ideation, graphic drowning (fantasy)

reira please love yourself-

Good news: CW has ended.... mostly

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annnd thread end

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