Howard Link (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
churchninja) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2018-04-17 09:31 pm
churchninja) wrote in lostcarnival2018-04-17 09:31 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
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 discoverthe 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.
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 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.
no subject
"If you are ever unsure, I promise I won't be offended if you ask." He has a feeling Link's world doesn't have anyone who looks quite like him. He tends to expect that, though, and there's no use getting riled up about innocent ignorance. "It is little different than races like yours eating meat."
no subject
As Link clears his throat, a fork, knife and spoon, all wrapped neatly in a cloth napkin, are placed into that waiting hand. Should he offer to show his guest to a seat at this point? Probably not. He isn't a waiter and, despite the care that's gone into rolling the napkin and cutlery, this isn't the fanciest restaurant. Still, so little makes sense here so he can't be certain. It's a learning process...
"Perhaps you're right," he says. "Nevertheless, I'm relieved to know I haven't insulted you. I would hate to start off on bad terms."
no subject
He carefully lifts the bowl between his hands, leaning back slightly from the counter. "Are you familiar with your radio, yet?"
no subject
"Ah--no. Not quite," he muses. Glad to be moving away from his faux pas, Link plucks a tall glass from a stack beneath the counter and settles it in Syrlya's reach.
"I don't much care for it so I tend to leave it in the kitchen."
One of those strange, non-paper drinking straws is fished from his apron and slid next to the glass. With that, his service is complete. Link hesitates.
"... Should I?"
no subject
"It is the best way to reach anyone in the carnival from a long distance. Especially if you need any assistance." Especially when the carnival gets tangled up in shenanigans. Which is often.
"And sometimes you'll find some very interesting conversation in the public channel."
no subject
"Ah, I've no interest in idle chatter. However..."
Truthfully, he'd rather not feel tracked. But then he pauses for a short moment, pondering, his eyes on Syrlya's full hands. What if he does need assistance? Unless it's a carnival-wide emergency, he can't exactly abandon the kitchen. And he supposes it might be good to know about another one of those 'invasions' before they arrive. Then there's also the chance of hearing a familiar voice…
Mind made up, he bobs his head.
"Should an oven break, I suppose I would be out of luck. Why don't I go fetch the radio and then carry some of this to your table? You can show me how to adjust the dial. All of that static is starting to become bothersome."
no subject
"I have this, so you can meet me--" He jerks his head to the nearest table. "Over there. Thankfully, the technology of the radio is very simple."