lostcarnival | ⇨ 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

"Apparently not, although there are few left in Tyria. But you should ask Lambert, as he's familiar with them as well."

Syrlya didn't actually confirm if dwarves existed in Lambert's world, he just assumed because he recognized the term.

He gestures to himself. "Sylvari are the only race of people who are foliage instead of flesh. So our origins and birth are very different from the other races of Tyria. And, well... no one expected a new group of people to sprout up seemingly overnight."

"I will, when I have the chance." If he had dwarves, Lavellan wonders if he's got elves as well. It would be interesting to find out if he had, and what they were like. If they had anything that resembled the glory of their past empire, or if they were just as scattered as the Dalish.

Syrlya's explanation explains his appearance, at least. "I had wondered." But something about how he said it makes her pause. "'Seemingly overnight'? How... old of a race are you?"

He's not surprised she'd wondered--he's come to assume by default that any stare a moment too long is probably a 'what the hell are you'. He doesn't mind it, so long as people are treating him with the same respect. No inhumane experimentation is a positive sign.

"Our Firstborn awoke around thirty years ago." He doesn't know how old Lavellan is, but he'd wager that her people are probably biologically similar to other mammalian races: babies, grow up, grow old, die. Likely at least in a span of eighty years or so, if not more.

So he already expects that he'll have to explain how that works. "There are no Sylvari children. When we awaken we are fully mature, so the time we are protected and nurtured by our elders is... very short. We learned to find our footing very quickly, but we have had help."

She would sympathize in her own way, even if their experiences are mostly different. Everyone in Thedas knows what she is, and the glamor protects her from the stares of the shemlen here. That everyone else is willing to take her at face value is a relief.

Only thirty years ago? So his entire race was only a few years younger than her -- astonishing. At least to her -- being one of the oldest races in Thedas did something to one's perception of time. "Is your lifespan just as short? But that must be... interesting, in a world filled with others who have children, and raise them."

To that, he just shrugs. "No Sylvari has appeared to age or died of a result of it so far. We have no idea how long we live."

If other dragon minions are an indication, though... possibly forever if nothing kills them.

He's about to continue, but his order is called and he glances at the receipt to confirm. He offers Lavellan an apologetic smile and holds of a finger to retrieve the tray, before walking to the soda machine like he witnessed others doing.

And then he just ends up staring between all of them, having no idea what any of these drinks are.

"I wouldn't want to be around when you begin to find out," she says, but gives him a nod at his smile. She's content to wait, or at least she is until she realizes he's gotten hung up at the drinking machine. It hadn't been of interest to her -- Lavellan has gotten herself a bottle of water -- but he has an empty cup and, well.

She squints at it, and then at the cup, and then back at the machine. "Who is 'Doctor Pepper' and what do you think his drink tastes like?"

Edited 2018-02-14 06:41 (UTC)

"I have no idea." He really doesn't. But since Lavellan pointed that one out, that's the one he's pushing his cup under.

He fills it roughly three-quarters before peering down at the brown and bubbly liquid. It smells extremely sweet, and he makes a non-committal hum in the back of his throat. "I suppose we'll find out."

He looks up and around, gesturing to a table near the front windows that's empty. It gives them a view of the street, just in case they need to keep an eye out.

Far too sweet for Elera's taste -- the frilly cakes Solas loved to indulge in was about as far as she was willing to go with her sweet tooth -- and so she doesn't bother going back to ask for a drink beyond the water. Instead she settles down across from him at the table, her eyes darting out through the window every so often.

"Have you noticed something... I don't want to say odd about this world, but I can't think of another word to describe it." It feels like the Crossroads, to her. But he won't know what that felt like, and she doesn't know how to put it into words.

Syrlya sits down, his own gaze drifting out the window first.

"Magic is very accessible here," he says after a moment, turning back to Lavellan. "It reminds me of Tyria, how easy it is to connect to. But there is something about that magic that... hm."

His face scrunches a little, equally unsure how to put it into words. "It is like the magic is more, but not in quantity. In power, perhaps?"

He dwells on it a second longer as he unwraps his burger... and is briefly distracted by how squished and flat it looks. He raises a brow, unimpressed.

"More is as good of a word as I have for it," she admits, with a small smile. "I wonder if this was what Thedas felt like, before the Veil." For she hopes never to feel what it is like without it, even if part of her would rejoice at it, at the return of the elves to their position of glory. Still, she sighs, and runs a hand through her hair as she plucks at a french fry. "Is there a source to it, I wonder? Or is it simply just how this world exists?"

Lavellan is about to pop a fry into her mouth before she's stopped at the look of his burger. "Is... that not how it's supposed to look?"

"I have not had one in some time, but..." Syrlya looks from his burger to the picture of the burger on one of the displays. The advertised burger is definitely much less pathetic, although presumably made with the same ingredients.

He shakes his head. "No, I suppose it's fine." He takes a bite and chews slowly. There's something off about the flavor than he was expecting, but he's probably eaten worse food, too? It's tolerable.

"It may be how it exists. No one seems to find its presence notable, and I have failed to overhear anything... well, truthfully I have failed to hear anyone besides members of the carnival notice."

⇨ WISMUTH

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