[OPEN]

[churchninja]

Who: Howard Link and you!
When: Days 42-45
Where: Various locations around the carnival
What: A newbie gets his feet wet
Warnings: None for now. Will update as needed o7



[ Day 42 - Newbie ]
One moment you're thinking things can't possibly get worse, and the next you're somehow surprised when they do.

It was his hurry to escape one situation that first brought him to this strange place, but now an entirely new development means to keep him here. What is 'here'? According to the Ringmaster, 'here' would be an interdimensional carnival traveling through the multiverse. Naturally there is no going back the way one came. The moment he was given his contract and trailer keys, he rushed off to check. The door he'd entered through is gone, and any others serve a practical use.

Had Link not pinched himself, he wouldn't have believed it. The shock of pain had assured he was indeed awake and in control of his own actions, but the presence of so many… oddities... now gives him reason to believe this could be some elaborate hallucination. Perhaps the Atuuda had drained him more than he'd thought. Whatever the case, his feet still work and he can't risk standing idle. Hallucination or not, Walker might very well be here, possibly drawn to the bright lights, sounds and scents of circus life, and it's in their best interests to find a way out together. Any moral dilemmas stemming from their last encounter (does it even count as theirs?) will simply need to wait.

But now he finds himself saddled with a new predicament. For reasons he can only fathom, he can no longer sense Walker's life force. In any other circumstances this might mean Walker is not here, but Link finds he cannot sense any. Regardless of how human his target appears, his attempts to read auras leave him with nothing but a throbbing temple and a twinge of pain in his chest. With time working against him, he resorts to the reliable method of skulking through shadows, stalking the unaware and sleuthing through carnival fliers.

Day or night, during your job or your spare time, you might feel as though you're being watched on the carnival grounds. It could be anywhere. Maybe you're watering your flower pots at your trailer or you're tending to a patient in the medical tent. He might even find himself spotted, and it never occurs to him to look into a mirror to discover the bright, glowing dots on his forehead why.


[ The Big Top - Day 43 and onwards, mostly around showtimes whenever those are… ]
When turning over stone after stone yields nothing, it may be more feasible to let your prey (should it even exist in this place) come to you. The bait might not be perfect but the ebb and flow of crowds provides excellent cover. Group after group make their way into the Big Top, taking in show after show. Link is usually among them, always in the very back where he has a good view of the rows ahead. The tent tends to be packed with performers, guests and athletes -- some of them several times his height, some of them several times his length -- and he often moves about to keep his sights clear.

The performances themselves are merely a distraction and you may find him sitting or standing next to you, looking way too stern and serious for somebody watching an amazing space show. He doesn't even clap for the acts or have popcorn.


[ The Cookhouse - Day 45 and onwards, any time ]
Well, this is it. This is where he's to labor away for the next year and a day.

The cookhouse is surreal but its atmosphere is as pleasant as it can be in these conditions. What conditions, you ask? When Link had first been thrust into this world and all of the antics accompanying the Space Olympics, he'd wondered that himself. An answer has yet to come to him.

Fortunately, enough people come and go to keep his hands busy, and if nothing else it's work he's familiar with. He supposes he ought to be grateful. Someone had enough consideration to assign him a job with an oven. And yet, despite the subtle familiarity of the kitchen, Link has never felt more out of place.

Lost, he manages the only way he knows how: by making himself useful. He can be found poking around in the kitchen, clearing tables and tidying the dining areas. Depending on the time of day, he may have already been working hard for a while and will have his sleeves pulled back to his forearms. May he take your empty plate? Should he? Maybe he'll just sweep again…


[ Wildcard! ]
Feel free to run into Link just about anywhere on carnival grounds. During the days leading up to off week, his snooping can take him pretty far but he'll be avoiding the Olympic fanfare whenever possible. If you'd like to work out something in particular, just hmu on Discord (Bans#5363) or PM this journal. I'm new here so don't hesitate to let me know if I get something wrong o7 I'll match prose or brackets.

Comments

TO THE COOKHOUSE...

[fortuneglass]

As one of the Supervisors of the Carnival, Carly is quite familiar with the cookhouse and its resources. Specifically, she's more than familiar with going in, grabbing her food, and sitting down to get started. The marble, light-formed woman is already fast at work with the self serve in fact. Getting dish after dish after dish, after..

...Boy that's. A lot.

Rather unfortunately for Carly, for all the energy and traits of the hummingbird inherited, a bit of the metabolism came with; which means getting as much as her arms can properly carry, and taking up a good amount of table space!

...It also means that as soon as she clears enough food to actually see the other side of it-and see, well, a person, she reacts accordingly.

"HY-YHEEEEEHH!!" And 'accordingly' is...launching back and off her seat in shock. "H-Hahhh-! Wh-What are you doing there!?"

(....Other than...his job..?)

!!

[churchninja]

One would think he'd be broken in by now, but then they'd be terribly wrong. No amount of standing in line with ghosts or squeezing past half-taur bodies can hope to prepare him for what walks in on his very first shift.

Somehow he's relieved she doesn't notice him right away. It gives him the opportunity to balk at her appearance, which (oddly enough) makes him think of Walker's Innocence. Truth be told he isn't entirely certain what he's seeing or how it's possible, only that she's vibrant and shimmery and her wings remind him of a cloak. But then he spots the plates piling up, and he isn't certain if he should stop her since she's helping herself to so much, and where else has he seen an appetite like that…?

The instant there's a lull in her meal, he steps forward to help with the empty plates. We all know what happens next, and as she recoils he jerks back, flipping his tray up to use it as a shield. What is he doing here? Link stares for a long moment before gathering his wits, then clears his throat to speak briskly, "I've been told I work here." Another beat of silence, this one brief. "Are you all right?"

[insidescoop]

....Ah. Working there. Carly stares a little blankly for a few moments to gather her own senses back together, as much as she's still awkwardly hover-sitting at the ground. No rest for the feathered, apparently-

"Eh? ...You work here?" she repeats, the words sinking in at a painfully slow rate. "...Hohhhhh, we got someone for the Cookhouse again, this time..!" Carly exclaims, sitting up straighter. "That happens less than I get people in my department...!"

Ah, but hold on, he asked a question didn't he- She hurriedly stands, coughing lightly into a fist to clear her throat. "Ah-m...I'm fine~! I'm completely used to being caught unawares~!"

More like she's used to falling flat on her rear, at this point, but alright.

The Big Top - Day 43

[prazerbutterfly]

His performance is an easy one with a water tank, a timer, and a sense of danger. He appeases to the crowd by entering from the air with a sky walk down an invisible flight of stairs and then he performs after announcing the time is likely how long he can hold his breath. It goes off without a hitch, the crowd on the edge of their seat with a roar of appreciation when it is over. He wins the crowd each and every time. Sometimes he uses his Tease. Sometimes he doesn't. Without his grey skin to identify him as a Noah or the stigmata on his forehead he looks like any other normal human swept up in the carnival.

But that is where he spots the blond in the back that's been lurking in quite a few shows. Ever observant, he flicks his eyes his way a few dozen times or so and after a while, he has to pinpoint exactly where he's seen him before. Ah yes, he was there which pegs him as someone from home and either part of the order or an ally of it.

It's why after the last performance Tyki heads backstage and dips below the surface into the ground. He chooses a spot nearby but not close enough to alert anyone in particular and uses his newfound spell to transform into a sleek black cat. Not particularly special in any way or ordinary, he pads outwards towards Link as if he owns the place and brushes past his leg, as he walks between them like weaving through a crowd, to alert his attention.

oh boy

[churchninja]

Link may have his share of superstitions, but he does not count black cats among them. He's much too straightforward to believe evil and misfortune come from cats of one particular color. It might even be allowed to linger nearby, were its first intentions not to make a nuisance of itself.

The cat, as cats are wont to do, wants to be right in his way. Link scarcely has time to shift his weight on his feet before it has trot straight up to him, keeping him from slipping out for the next show. In one smooth motion, with his eyes downcast to observe the furry shape between his boots, he slips his hands deep into his coat pockets and swings one foot up and over, stepping back to make space. Several seconds tick by while he regards the cat with mild disinterest, his lips pursed in a half-frown.

In that moment, something -- he can't say quite what -- strikes him. It could just be how normal this seems compared to the rest of the carnival, which in turn makes it feel even more bizarre. How did this cat get here? Does it belong to a worker? Would the Ringmaster keep pets when she has so many at her beck and call? The absurdity of everything, from his arrival to the carnival itself to the show he'd just watched, hits him all at once. All because of this cat...

"Surely you didn't form a contract," he mutters to himself, because cats don't speak. He flicks his fingers, gesturing for the cat to shoo. "Go on. Off with you before you sign away your nine lives."

[prazerbutterfly]

He's gotten lessons from a handful of people on a cat's mannerisms and Link was the unfortunate soul that was going to be his very first trial. No matter what happened he was not going to break character unless he was found out. Tyki had gained this spell both for personal reasons and to aid in his conman job position. What better person to use it on, in order to gather information, than a possible enemy from home.

It's why he chose a position that was an inconvenience to someone trying to walk. When Link recovers quickly, instead of falling on his face, he can discern that he likely wasn't the average Finder. A gentle turn of his head signals a usual cat's confusion and he watches Link now with purpose as he's stared at and inspected. He turns his head further to look away and will let his tail sway behind him in mild interest.

He'd laugh at his words if it was normal and when Link insists that he shoos with almost a sympathetic tone, he defies him by taking a few steps forward towards him. Time to play.

day 45!

[kingsroads]

It's not that Strange was stealing food, per se. After all, the food belonged to the carnival, Strange worked for the carnival, ergo Strange could eat the food whenever he wanted. It's just that Strange kept odd hours and didn't want to have certain people fussing at him about the fact that he should have showed up for lunch or why can't you wait for dinner, and so on and so forth. Which of course, the answer was that he's hungry now, of course he isn't going to wait for dinner.

And, because he's a big show-offy magician, he's not going to do something as pedestrian as 'knock' or 'use a door' either. Nope, Strange is going to enter the kitchen via smoke form. One of the kitchen windows is cracked open slightly. It's cracked open enough that a plume of dark purple smoke can seep through the crack. The smoke trails down towards the floor and lingers for a moment before it solidifies into the fully clothed and annoyingly smug Jonathan Strange.

Thankfully, he still looks humanoid. The main odd thing about Strange is the fact that his eyes are completely mirrored over. Add in the fact that his hair and wrists have flecks of a mirrored covering, and this mostly means that Strange can be a bit blinding if the sun hits him a certain way. His attire is rumpled and intensely dated: you can take the man out of the 1810s, but you can't take the 1810s out of the man. As he finally solidifies, Strange looks over at Link, as if noticing him for the first time.

"Huh!" he simply states, smug expression shifting to a frown. "You're not supposed to be in here." Says the person who's definitely not supposed to be in here.

[churchninja]

Terrible things happen when you interrupt someone in the middle of inventory. Carrots might spill, potatoes might roll away, flour might go flying…

Luckily none of that happens, though Link does tip over an aged teacup in his hurry to guard his back. He whirls, his braid flying out behind him, and his hand darts to the small boxes strapped to his thigh. Drawing himself up, he sweeps his eyes from side to side and... promptly finds himself facing a well-timed reflection of the overhead light. Stunned, he screws his eyes shut. A beat later he's blinking furiously to chase away the spots behind his eyelids.

Well… Considering he wasn't immediately assaulted, he can only assume this fellow must be another worker and not an enemy from home out to shank him. His vision clears quickly enough, and Link risks another look while puckering his lips into a disgruntled frown. Really, this man's wrinkled outfit is the least offensive thing about him...

"Excuse you!" he chides, curt and direct. "I most certainly am! You, on the other hand, ought to wait in the dining area like everyone else!"

… Unless this man is his boss? Would that mean he belongs here after all? What a way to make an impression…

[kingsroads]

"Magicians, like cats, may go where they please." An explanation that is entirely bullshit and entirely Strange making something up on the spot to justify why he's in the kitchen. He looks annoyingly proud of himself for that explanation as well.

Strange gives Link another once over before deciding that this man's presence isn't going to stop him from getting some food. He saunters over towards one of the cabinets like he owns the damn place. Opening it up, he rummages through for a moment before pulling down a breadbox. The next stage of rummaging is Strange trying to find a knife to cut the bread within the breadbox.

Strange talks as he makes himself at home within the kitchen. After all, he can briefly chide this person for being back here while he gets a snack. It's multitasking! "Besides, this area is for carnival employees only. And considering I haven't seen you around here before, I doubt you're an employee."

Unless he's someone new, the voice of reason that Strange rarely pays attention to points out. That's always possible.

D46 NEWBIE MEET BIGGER NEWBIE

[alphudo]

It's been about two weeks since Yuusei joined the carnival, and accordingly, it's been about two weeks since he contracted for his taur body. He's gotten the hang of it by now for the most part, only occasionally stumbling and staggering as he trips over his own feet, but his recovery time has greatly improved, and there's a confidence in his steps that wasn't present there before.

Despite his regained comfort in his own body, he still isn't particularly at ease around other people, having done a pretty poor job of really getting to know anyone. He can, at least, sort of remember faces - specifically, he can pick out an unfamiliar one even if he doesn't know the rest very well.

He doesn't mean to stare, he really doesn't, but as he enters the cookhouse - thankfully without looking like an absolute buffoon while doing it - and collects a decent amount of food on his plate, he can't help but tilt his head and glance over Link. Is this just someone he's never seen before, or is it... someone new here? The thought of already being here longer than another does admittedly make him smile a little.

But staring is rude, and so he asks, "Are you nervous?"

Excellent conversation-starter. Good.

hello fellow newbie

[churchninja]

Goodness. This young man (?) might not be the strangest thing Link has seen during his short time here but he is certainly one of the most cumbersome. How does a body like that even work? How do you sit down to eat? Do you use a chair or the floor or...

Though several days have passed since his arrival, Link still can't shake the feeling that he's the strange one. Oddities are commonplace, and each new experience simply serves to alienate him further. So, honestly, he tries to avoid staring, but their eyes definitely meet once or twice while Link awkwardly putters around the tables and seats.

Eventually he's tended to everything else that needs tending and can't ignore the elephant (or is it a dragon?) in the room any longer. He makes his way over to ask for any dirty dishes and, thankfully, doesn't need to find a subject to breach.

It's… more than a little surreal, so when he's spoken to he perks with a start but manages to conduct himself with an air of professionalism. "Ah… No, I wouldn't say I'm nervous. Rather, I simply don't know what to think." Link hesitates, and it takes a considerable amount of effort to keep his eyes from straying back to that large, scaled body. "How is your meal?"

[alphudo]

Discarding that lingering self-consciousness altogether has thus far proved itself to be a fool's errand, and yet somehow the moments the two of them lock eyes bring a sense of ease to Yuusei's mind. He at least expects these sorts of glances from people who have never seen him before, regardless of whether or not they've been in the carnival for awhile; he recalls many people being somewhat shocked by his appearance, especially if they had seen him shadowing Carly before he officially signed on, since after that day he went from a relatively normal-looking human to having four legs.

So for someone - someone new especially - to be staring isn't unusual for him, but in this instance, Yuusei at least feels as though he's justified in returning it. He feels less bad, and in this particular situation he doesn't feel quite as uncomfortable as normal.

He's not generally the smiling sort, but he offers one to the man before him anyway in hopes of easing the tension in the room. "It's a lot to take in, isn't it? It must be awfully different from where you came from, hm?" At least from what he could tell, this period of time was perhaps one of the better ones to come in at. He still doesn't know what the significance of the name 'Wismuth' is, but he has a feeling, given its lack of comfortable mention by others, it wasn't good.

What is good, however, is the food he's eating, and so when Link inquires about it, he gives a short nod alongside his reply. "It's very good, thank you." He doesn't really know what else to say, and he doesn't want to ramble too much in case this fellow isn't of the talkative sort. Not that he himself is, but nonetheless...

Cookhouse!

[sunflowerfields]

Somewhere in the kitchen, someone is humming. Hinawa is spooning batter into a cupcake pan, off in her own little world until she spots Link.

"Oh! Hello, I'm afraid customers aren't allowed back here." She greets him as cordially as she can.

[churchninja]

Of all the people and things he's seen thus far, this young lady startles him the most. Here she is in the middle of an enormous, magical, multiversal carnival, looking perfectly normal and doing perfectly ordinary things. His eyes are instantly drawn to her hands, and as he watches her work he idly wonders which flavor she'd chosen for her cupcakes. The sound of batter plopping into a pan is eerily familiar, even almost comforting.

There must be something terribly, terribly wrong. Still, she seems to have some knowledge of the cookhouse. Perhaps she can offers him some much-needed direction.

Returning her courtesy, there's a brief pause while he bobs his head hello. He lowers his eyes out of habit, then immediately spots her hooves. Oh. Of course. He flicks his gaze back to her face so he isn't caught staring. "Ah… No, I'm not a customer," he replies, his tone clipped but polite. "I've been assigned to work here."

((ooc: I looked at her LC changes, I hope that's ok!))

[sunflowerfields]

If Hinawa notices his unease, she doesn't show any signs. Instead, her eyes light up and she gives him a warm smile.

"Oh! How wonderful!" She puts the bowl of batter down and extends a hand. It's covered in flour. "I'm Hinawa, I've been working here for quite a while. Our team's small, but we're hard workers. I'm so glad you're joining us!"

Newbie

[crimsonfallenangel]

Anghel was working on a manga. Since he's a bird, between three and four feet tall, it probably makes for an unusual sight. After a few minutes, Anghel does feel like he's being watched. He gathers up his pen and paper before looking around.

"Is what you are seeking of this world or the last?" he asks once he finds Link.

(OOC: I'd appreciate if if you could look at this. Feel free to PM me if you have any questions. Thanks!)

[churchninja]

For one agonizing moment, Link's heart stills. It isn't that his hiding spot has been discovered, nor is it the fact that he's speaking with a large talking bird capable of using pen and paper. Those things trouble him, yes, but it's easy enough to brush these developments off as nonsense. Hallucinations. Delusions. No, what grips him is how pointed that question seems. Could this be his subconscious trying to reach him?

Left with no reason to hide, he steps out into the open. He stands straight and tall as he slips his hands deep into his coat pockets, and though his gaze is sharp his tone and expression remain carefully neutral. Yes, even with the bird.

"Perhaps you might clarify what you mean by the last world."

Cookhouse

[chronosynthesis]

Link's day isn't about to get any less weird.

While he's tidying up in the kitchen, Syrlya peers in from across the main counter from the dining side, glancing around. He is coming at an odd hour, so it's no surprise the staff is mostly cleared out. But time got away from him and that makes him no less hungry now. He's uncertain until he spots Link, and then his expression lifts.

"Excuse me!" He brings a hand to his mouth to carry his voice. "Are you busy?"

[churchninja]

Odd hours or not, Link is still here and he's hard at work. He perks at the sound of someone's voice and tosses a hurried glance over his shoulder. His guest had caught him toting clean dishes from the kitchen, but he's more than willing -- a little eager, perhaps -- to set them aside and offer assistance. The plates rattle as he places them on the nearest table.

"Good day," he calls back. "One moment, please. There is no need to shout. I will be right there."

As he approaches the counter, he lowers his eyes and dries his hands on an apron he'd found. Once there he looks up, ready to serve. That's when he pauses.

… And what a pause it is. For several long seconds, one can hear the bells and dings of various carnival games ringing in the distance. You know, he'd never thought this moment would come, but today a leafy, humanoid plant person ranks rather low on the strangeness scale. He isn't certain if he should be dismayed or grateful.

Regardless, he straightens himself up and squares his shoulders. When in doubt, channel fierce professionalism. "How may I help you?"

Day 42

[shearmadness]

On first glance at Nui, she looks like a very girly girl in her mid to late teens. Even her transformations over her time at the Carnival have lended themselves to that look - pink, sparkly, dainty. Nothing about her overtly looks any stranger than any of the others who have been here for a while. Upon watching her more, Link might notice that her shadow and her reflection seem to have minds of their own.

If he observes her as she's working, he'll notice that despite her young appearance, Nui is a highly talented tailor/designer. She's very quick without sacrificing quality, and it's when she's at work that she seems the most normal. It's evident that she likes what she does.

She's been going about her business without commenting on the new guy watching her, but when she's about to go training with her flame whip, that's when she finally says something. "You know, if you need new clothing, you could just ask me instead of following me around."

[churchninja]

Caught.

At first she receives no response. Having observed her for this long, he can no longer be certain she's a mere figment of his imagination. No illusion can work with that much diligence or care, not for this long. Were it all fake, surely she would have transformed into a horrible apparition by now. Were it some plot enacted by those after him, they would never waste such an easy opportunity.

For that reason alone she seems normal enough, or as normal as one can be with those flashy, otherworldly accents. And yet she's spotted him, either through his faults or her expertise. Though she's dainty, Link approaches with a measure of caution.

As he steps into the open, he speaks clearly, concisely, "I would much rather ask how one leaves this place for good. If I'm fortunate, spare clothing will not be necessary."

day 42

[exaomori]

[It hasn't taken long for Shura to develop something of a routine on her patrols. She's learned the usual spots where patrons of the carnival might be skulking around when they shouldn't be and where the best spots to sit and take a quick break were. She's not an expert by any means, but she is getting comfortable. Admittedly, with all the news and rumors about the approaching Greimen invasion, she's feeling just a little more agitated.

Which is why when she feels someone, something, watching her, she doesn't hesitate to slide her hand back under her jacket to snag a knife and promptly lob it near the face of whoever's creeping on her.
The knife embeds itself in a tree not too far from Link with a thunk.]

Stalking a girl is pretty rude, y'know~

[She has good aim for not having bothered to look before throwing. There's something dangerous in her voice when she call out, and when she turns to look towards this stranger, he can easily make out the way her eyes glow in the low light of the woods.]

[churchninja]

[Oh, this one is not at all like the others. Her ears are as sharp as her aim, or could it be some other sense he isn't yet aware of?

Left with no reason to hide, Link plucks the knife from its target and steps out of the foliage. Though it's getting dark, it's easy to see his overall shape is at least human. If not for the markings glowing on his forehead, he might look completely normal. After giving her a cursory look over, his attention is drawn back to her most prominent feature: her eyes.

He stops several paces away and flips the knife with a short toss. It's caught by the tip of its blade, held gingerly in his fingertips with its hilt pointed toward her. That's as far as he comes, and if she wants it back she'll need to approach.]

Apologies.

[He sounds a little stern and maybe a little too polite but he's agreeable enough.]

You may not believe me but I did not intend to observe for much longer. I had to be certain…

42

[reflash]

"Tending to a patient in the medical tent"? That's, well, that's exactly what Yukio was doing. He finishes wrapping a bandage around a scraped limb, and shows the injured alien to the tent flap with a polite smile. Yukio is still fairly 'normal' in apperance when compared to the more extensive changes other members of the carnival have experienced, visibly human except for claws on his hands, a flash of fang when he smiles, and a blue fae mark across his eyes like a flame-shaped birthmark. He still wears his exorcist's uniform, black pants and a white shirt under a long, black coat, and a blue, red, and silver pin on his chest.

Yukio is a boy in his mid-teens, on the taller side of average, and he has a friendly, polite sort of expression which slides into something significantly less welcoming as soon as his patient leaves.

"If you want medical attention," he says, projecting his voice to fill the not-actually-empty tent. "You should come in through the front door instead of lurking in the corners."

At some point between his patient leaving and his announcement to the hidden newcomer, his throwing knife slid into his left hand, summoned magically from his pocket. He isn't going to stay unarmed as someone tries to sneak up on him, even here.

[churchninja]

No one is above Link's scrutiny, not even the doctors. This one especially.

He'd only intended to take a passing glance, and he would have been on his way had something not stopped him dead in his tracks. That uniform... From this distance, it had looked familiar enough to chill his stomach with dread. Had he been followed after all? Though there was little logic to this place, he'd seen enough bodies altered by Innocence and Church-approved experimentation to immediately suspect those claws and marks. And yet... something wasn't adding up.

It takes a closer, more thorough look for Link to spot the difference in the insignia. Although it's been some months since he'd last worn the Vatican's emblem, he knows it well. Theirs is (was?) an organization built upon tradition and nothing, not even the crests on their uniforms, would change in the short time he's been away. What's more, this young man seems too comfortable with his duties to have just arrived, as Link had hours earlier. No, this can't be someone from home.

Whoever they are, they have sharp senses. Despite his effort to eavesdrop, he's noticed and he only has a brief moment to wonder what gave him away. He can no longer read others, but perhaps they can still read him? He will need to remember this.

After a second of deliberation, he eases aside a chirurgeon's curtain with his forearm. A window separates them, and he stands on the outside of the tent looking in.

"While your offer is generous, that won't be necessary," he says, curt. "I've no desire to add to your workload today. I am only looking."