lostcarnival | ⇨ POLARIS

Entry tags:

⇨ POLARIS

Who: Everyone!
When: Days 102 - 109
Where: Polaris
What: With the Ringmaster kidnapped and the rest of the carnival imprisoned, characters find themselves at the mercy of a Winter Fae called the Mother of Invention.
Warnings: Graphic experimentation in places.

TRIALS & TRIBULATION↴

After a day of cleansing and processing, where all the belongings and attire of their old lives are stripped away and replaced with something newer and more form fitting, the former members of the carnival will find themselves let loose into the Farm for the first time. A sizable green area, filled with orchards growing inorganic looking fruits and field ready for tending, the Farm is where they will be spending their days for the forseeable future.

Food and drink are no longer needed, and so every day is an endless cycle of work. Technicians are seen only when necessary, and when being taken from your place of work to your lonesome cells at night. Every day, there are new postings on the "Production Board", where various dire sound scientific trials ask for subjects. The majority won't be forced, at least not yet, but the system is at work to push its participants to the brink and force their hand.

After all, volunteers make the best subjects.

► PRODUCTIVITY: As explained elsewhere, characters will be forced to compete to attain enough Productivity Point to be considered Satisfactory. There are literally not enough points to go around for everyone to attain this, which means that at least some people will be deemed "Below Expectations" by the end of the first four-day cycle. What this means has yet to be discovered, but the Technicians have grimly warned against it.

Productivity involves many tasks, including orchard picking, tilling, planting, harvesting, watering, maintenance, and more. Any task you can think of that would take place on a plantation is applicable here. Beyond that, the Production Board awaits you, offering precious Productivity Points in exchange for your cooperation. How you become Satisfactory is up to you, but it's every person for themselves. Only one person can turn in the credit for harvesting or preparing fields, and while you can certainly try to help others by letting them take credit for your work, it's a sure fire way to fall behind the herd, especially if you are already in a low Classification.

Fruits and fields will miraculously grow overnight, and will be ready for a new day when you are. You've been told not to eat anything you harvest, but right now you aren't hungry anyway.

► POLARIS BY NIGHT: During the night, you are left alone to your thoughts and maybe an annoying roommate. Solo or in pairs, the entire night will be spent in small sleep pods, as shown on the locations post. Is it possible to sneak out? It doesn't seem like it is, but who is to say? The real question is if you want to dare to try. There is one hour of rest before and after seven hours of darkness. Even if you don't usually have to sleep, you'll find yourself oddly weary and inclined to rest. Supernaturally, almost.

► PARTICIPATION: Sometimes participation in experimental trials is manditory, sometimes it isn't. You are free to handwave your character having been pulled aside for minor examinations, such as blood tests or aura scans. Each time, you will be pulled into a separate part of the station and analyzed by a Technician and heavily automated machinery. Anymore more complex than basic check-up level tests will be posted about in a section called "TRIALS" in the body of the post below.

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Being a supervisor doesn't mean a lot in this place, frankly, but that has never stopped Joker from fussing over other people. He's done it since he was young, before he ever got such a fancy title such as "butler" or "ringleader". So, honestly, when he sees Tyki come to a sudden pause on the way to 'work', he doesn't even miss a beat as he comes alongside him and tries to usher him along with his wings.

"C'mon, keep goin'..." Doing anything odd might get unwanted attention, after all.

He calls, calls, and calls. No one answers, not even for a second. There's no shred of salvation, not even in this forsaken place. The Earl always answered to despair and perhaps he simply wasn't in enough of it. Mental manipulation was taking place all around him. With their leader gone, the rest was falling apart.

He's aware of something against his back, brushing up against his own flightless and smaller wings, and he'll stop calling for a moment to look towards the offender, "Right, right, Sir."

Oh, good, he's not having a complete breakdown. Joker isn't entirely sure what he'd do if that happened to Tyki, of all people. Still, he keeps his wing extended, almost like a comforting arm. In a place like this, it's about as much comfort as he can give.

"How're ya holdin' up?" he asks, just to be on the safe side. He won't ask, just yet, why he stopped like that. He won't even ask about the skin change, although that's more because Joker has seen too much stuff like that to really care.

No, it's only a minor breakdown and a minor freak out by hiding it all together. He doesn't need the extra attention right now other than getting some extra glance when he's doing something productive. The wing is comforting.

"Why do you care? Shouldn't you be worrying about yourself?" he says calmly, very well aware of how much everything is right now. It's everyone for themselves, one or the other, with no real certainty that any of them will actually survive. Tyki is here to survive.

Listen, they're all having minor breakdowns. Joker knows and expects that. It's not good, but he can work his way around that and help ease it. For a full breakdown, well... He's not sure if it would be so easy. More importantly, it's the kind of thing that would hold all of them back from doing the work necessary to keep the technicians off their backs.

...Not to mention, with some of the folks that are in the carnival, Joker is half certain that someone's major breakdown would result in a murder.

"Oh, I'm absolutely worryin' about myself~." He says it with the kind of relaxed cheeriness that's so fake it might as well be plastic. "But I don't see a reason yet ta throw someone under the bus. At least, not you, personally."

He has a ranking, as a matter of fact, of what people he's more inclined to screw over for his and his own's benefit. Tyki is near the bottom.

"I'm not going to be helping anyone else, Joker," he admits openly, using Joker's name instead of any detached title he was going for seconds ago. There's no point in prolonging the inevitable.

"Understand that I don't choose to 'throw you under the bus' but if it came down to that, I would do it with some consideration. This is, above all, mental manipulation, and I know just as well as you do that you'd do anything for your family, me included or not."

But he's right, Joker was rather far down on near the bottom of the list of people he'd screw over.

"I'm touched yer bein' so honest with me." Despite his lilting tone, he kind of means it, actually. They're cut from similar, if not the same, cloth. To be upfront and not jackasses dancing around the point or outright lying is a kind of compliment, frankly.

...Not that it takes away from the fact of the matter, of course, and Joker shrugs. His wing stays where it is. "That's fine. My interest is a rather small circle, honestly, so I can't say I don't understand. Yer right about that." Family is a truly chaining sort of thing, honestly. He wouldn't trade it for anything else, however.

"Still, what does bein' a dick ta ya get me~?"

"Haven't I always been honest?" he says casually, his fingers flexing at his sides with a curl of them, wanting to exercise them in whatever means necessary. The answer was a no, always a no. Tyki was honest but then never honest at the same time. It was difficult to pick the truth from the lies but as he was now it was all different.

Joker knew the signs by now of when Tyki was in distress or hiding his thoughts. Isolation, the lack of wanting to be around people, somewhere quiet. Otherwise he always surrounded himself with company and individuals. Right now the people he wanted the most just weren't around nor could they be.

He grins, "A black eye. Possibly lack of air." Another lie. He would never hurt Joker so blatantly.

"Oh, then maybe I outta harass ya a bit more, then." There, time to see what work is available for them all today. Joker knows it will most likely be the same old, same old... but maybe there will be a trial he can go to. The more time goes, after all, the more it becomes clear that he might have to boost himself up with those. At least, if he wants to get anywhere. "My face has been woefully lackin' color, with how plain they seem ta prefer folks here."

Ha. Ha. Honestly, the effort that would be used for makeup here would just be waste, and he knows it. Still, it's become such a habit in the years he's been able to manage it that it leaves him antsy to be bereft. Funny, what little things crawl under a guy's skin.

"Hope ya don't have work ya prefer, or else ya might get disappointed as we keep doin' these sorta things."

"So much so that you would settle for a dull black," he questions, his eyes turning down into a stare in Joker's direction. "You'd be better off dabbling in whatever produce we are hauling to find your color."

He's also been looking at the trials but has been more reluctant to actually do them. He'd rather not, even if he's not lacking at all right now. It just matters that he feels like he's doing something, even if he gains nothing. Even as he talks he doesn't abandon Joker's wing.

"I would prefer no work at all but you know that," he snorts outloud, his left ear twitching in annoyance, "I didn't mind the carnival work as much because at least it was fun."

"S'what ya get for bein' a fop," says the man just moments ago was complaining about a lack of makeup for himself. "Borin' work that we all have ta do anyway." All of it dull and useless, considering what the farm goes through, but he's pretty sure that's half the point. How long until people give up to fall to the bottom? How long until they give up in general?

Neverending tedium and insurmountable odds aren't a good look.

"Anyway, the fruit might be poison. It's one thing when the cookhouse gave ya somethin' weird on a plate, and another here." He clicks his tongue. "I'll be goin' ta the waterin', if I can get it. Just so ya know." He winks over at Tyki.

He snorts at that, knowing he's a bit of a dandy when it comes to colors, though he'd look in just about anything. He knows it, and he flaunts it. Joker, on the other hand, it would be hard to see him in anything like that. All he sees is that vibrant coloration of him, like some exotic bird that got beat around far too many times, missing a piece here or there.

"Better than torture or losing yourself in whatever else they are offering," he says, not quite shy to pain yet unwilling to indulge in anything unnecessary. Even Joker knows the man barely moves unless he has to. He hears the hint and glances forward towards the farm. The hard work is in the soil and he may as well set himself there if he wishes to continue any conversation, "Fair enough. You'll find me on my hands and knees weeding." There's no 'if I can get it' from him. He'll take it if he has to.

If that kind of description was told to him out loud, well, Joker supposes he'd have a bit of trouble denying it. He's always been loudly colored; this red hair is perfectly natural. Same for the eyes. Same for being beaten around the whole block at this point, starting in the slums and stopping here. Whether that's a permanent deal or temporary... He can't say yet.

He honestly doesn't want to say, because then at least his expectations are low.

Like, for example, a life of misery and torture. Joker huffs out a laugh, even as he goes to where the tools are. Luck be a lady tonight. "Knew I could count at ya for reassurance, Tyki," he says, not sounding particularly upset or disappointed at all. What? It's true. Best to keep himself busy working and moving. Even if it won't do him any good, it'll keep him going for longer. "Think it's better or worse that they're apparently the smart types?"

To think, a dandy like him, on his knees with his fingers in the dirt, slaving away tirelessly just to appease his so called betters. He's dragging his fingers through the loose soil, raking as he shoves handful after handful of it aside, renewing, planting, weeding, his body shifting with an odd flexibility with his tail rigid and snapped back irritated. He'd rather be doing anything else but work. At least make work fun.

His ears crane back to keep Joker's voice clear and concise, his body language one of ignorance despite how tirelessly he seems to be motivated to work and toil.

"It just means they have more creativity than the last round of those seeking to weed us out from the rest," he responds, his voice low and sensual even at his worst, "It's manipulation at its best, Joker. It's just a matter of what they want to do with us." Nothing short of what he would do at home. Nothing better or worse than how he would go about breaking someone down to their core.

Listening to Tyki talk is at least a pleasant enough way to pass the time, even if it's only long enough for him to get the watering can. All this fancy technology, and they put them to work. As if it couldn't be more blatantly obvious that the tedium is just meant to grind them down. Really now.

"Oh, there was never any doubt about that," he drawls, hauling water and metal upwards. At least he'll be cool while working himself to the bone. It's the little blessings. Sometimes, they're all that's left against big miseries. Joker knows that lesson particularly well. "Wonder how well they'll manage?"

Tyki doesn't question a lot of this. Like Joker he knows what all this work is for. It's to see who is willing to step on each other, who will fall, and who is going to end up sitting in the dirt waiting to die.

"It's already working," he says outloud, looking towards a few in particular he knows are sitting around doing nothing, struggling to stay standing, or even the motivation to keep working, "Hearts are broken, minds are shattered. They'll manage just fine until someone picks everyone back up again."

"Or they're just bein' stupid and stubborn," Joker says cheerfully. He knows more than a few are like that in the carnival, thinking more with their pride or anger than sense at times. That, or it's just in their personality. It hadn't escaped him just what kind of people had ended up in the lower class besides the vast amount of them stuck in the middle. Speaking of...

"We'll see how it's really workin' in a week or so." Right now might be too soon. A lot of them are mourning circumstances, or the Ringmaster's loss. Once people recover from that, even a little bit...

Well, their lot are a stupid and stubborn bunch more often than not. That will cause trouble sooner or later.

"That's what people should hope for. That others will rouse when needed. I can't say I'll be that great of a help, Joker," he says, digging harder into the dirt in mild irritation. He doesn't stop even for a moment nor will he even when his hands start to hurt or his fingers bleed if it comes to that.

"Things will change for better or worse in a week. That much is certain. Either we'll deject here in pitiful wallow or we'll survive."

"The best we can hope for is that they're either real smart, or real stupid~." Stupid enough to raise hell, basically. Sometimes, being dumb jackasses leads to unexpected places, because people expect other people to make sense. When they do things like, say, set themselves on fire and charge...

Well, Joker plans on making it through himself, that much is for sure.

Either way, he tilts his head to Tykie and winks. "Well, as long as yer smart enough ta keep yer head about the water." That will be what has some people getting through, after all. Just surviving. That's all they need for now.

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⇨ POLARIS

calling, FINALLY HITTING YOU UP AFTER FOREVER

gasp it's a James

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