⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

[ringleaders]

Who: Everybody!
When: Day 64
Where: The Camping Grounds
What: While the Ringmaster attempts to purge the carnival of magical tracing spells and deal with the angry fire fae in her belly, everyone else is getting sent on an emergency camping trip with some unusual local fauna.
Warnings: Camping.

CRYPTIC CAMPGROUNDS↴ You're given about three hours to prepare, after the Ringmaster tells you her plans for the coming week. There is a vast selection of camping equipment at your disposal, and the means to take along enough food for the length of the stay. The wilderness of the planet you're left on is nearly idyllic, but some people just don't like the great outdoors. ► CRYPTOZOOLOGY: As it turns out, the carnival won't be alone here. There is a varied ecosystem of cryptids to be found as well, living in relative peace and mostly reacting to the newcomers with curiousity. More details can be found on the plotting post. You are free to NPC the cryptids as much as you need to, as long as you stick to the behaviours described. ► DREAMSHARING: There is a player plot going on which will allow characters to share dreams! These are specifically more dreams than nightmares, and the mushi-adept characters will be here to help. ► CHILLAX: There isn't any plot twist for this setting, so this is mostly an opportunity to decompress from the last plot and get ready for the future. The Ringmaster will show up occasionally to help with needed medical treatments and check on things, but won't stick around for long.

Comments

[stillwinningthehardway]

"Hrmmm!" Children peek and titter as the tiny old Master comes to see, his gnarled cane tapping on the floor. "Observing the wrong lesson, you are? Perhaps return you should later. Teach techniques for napping I will, when these younglings are quiet inside!"

The young pupils whisper indistinctly to each other, giggling, and start to subside when their teacher taps his cane on the floor and waves it at them, mock-stern. "Notice this, I have! Think you that your lives without distraction shall be?"

The classroom has become a space in a vast, thickly planted greenhouse or lush indoor garden, the mats and floor replaced with thick moss dotted with starry petals falling from a high, spindly tree in bloom. There's a constant sound of running water and calling animals and in the distance the hum and clash of lightsabers, and a woman's sudden sharp laughter. The pupils are quiet again, focused on their meditation, but most still react when an amazingly ugly bird lands heavily on that spindly tree, rocking the branches, and makes a loud, metallic cry like PEEEENT!

Scout doesn't. She sits in proper posture, dwarfing the teacher and children, seeming oblivious.

[whattaprick]

"I'm practically a master at napping by now, too," Lambert grumbles -- but he'll open his eyes when he hears that odd cry, blinking slowly as he situates himself.

Or rather, fails to. This isn't a familiar place to him at all, though it doesn't occur to him to question it. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Lambert blinks, looking around him.

Scout stands out, being one of the only people around his side. Lambert's close enough to reach out and poke her if he moves, so he does -- rolling onto hands and knees and reaching out with one clawed finger to prod at her side.

[stillwinningthehardway]

The lesson continues, though it seems to draw further away, the details blurring until it's just the concept of the tiny old master teaching the young students. The garden and the life and sounds it hold persists, though now the starry moss carpet is cut with paths of white gravel, crisp-edged. It's an amalgation of some of the common areas in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, not a clean copy.

Scout opens her eyes before he can get there but doesn't actually stop Lambert from sticking a claw in her. With a heavy, teenagerly sigh she finally acknowledges his presence. "What? Are you going to pass a note next? There's better ways to get someone's attention, you know."

[whattaprick]

"But this needs much less imagination," Lambert answers with no remorse, settling back on his haunches with a fluidity he only wishes he had in real life right now -- not that it's on his mind. The memory of injury and pain is distant right now ... as is the changes from the Carnival. The Lambert here is Lambert looking more like he did when Scout first met him, bereft of horns and tail and baseline human except for his eyes.

"Are you really just going to sit here?"

[stillwinningthehardway]

"Are you really gonna keep prodding me? It's been too long since I sat with everyone." A shadow crosses her face, crosses the surroundings. There's a cloud up somewhere, between the glassy enclosure of the great Room and the planet's sun, and everything seems a little bit grayer and heavier, the ambient noise more muted. Even in a dream, Scout can't quite manage to forget why it's been so long.

This isn't a nightmare, anyway. Scout tracks a star-shaped white flower drifting down from the tree, spinning and tumbling on whims of the air, until it lands in her lap, and she exhales deeply. The shadow passes, though a little line is between her eyebrows now. "Give me a reason to get up."