lostcarnival | ⇨ 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I mean... not done," Beau admits.

The row she's been tilling, visible in the distance behind her, is only half the length of its neighbors. The tool's still sticking up out of the soil... at least for now. There's a risk one of the more opportunistic sorts will go finish it and claim credit for the full length themselves.

"I just wanted to come over, and ask, like... Did they bring you out of here for blood testing, a little bit ago?"

Yeah, it was kind of obvious, but so long as she knows what she's getting into... If she wanders any further off, Joker supposes he'll consider taking it up himself. No point in letting good points go to waste, not right now.

"Not yet," he says with false airiness. "Although I expect s'just a matter of time. I'm a hodgepodge of things by now, after all."

Given her short history interacting with the sorts of fae out here, Beau has a very limited idea what she's getting into. But her score's not among the worst yet, and she's hardly about to ask for help. Outside of complete desperation.

"Okay, yeah, I don't care about that part right now," she dismisses the hints of stories about his changes with a brush of her hand. "You sure they didn't pull you out, for just a few minutes? They've taken me every day. But it was never a long enough trip to catch much of the layout."

"Ha." Shut off before he can even try to begin. That's fine with him. Still, that's a little bit interesting, and he spares her a bit more of a glance instead of focusing purely on his work.

"And there has been one time, early on... But I didn't have any blood drawn out." Yet, anyway.

"I don't just mean bloodwork, I mean... damn it." Beau massages the bridge of her nose for a few seconds before forcing out a slightly more thorough explanation.

"If they pull you out for anything anything, bring you anywhere but this farm and those shitty sleeping cells, pay attention. I want to map this place out." She drops the hand and glares at him. "You get it yet?"

"Such a bad mood," he muses aloud, an unhelpful git as usual. "Ya should work it out of yer system."

...But, alright, he knows that's just being antagonistic, and he heaves out a sigh. He'd lean against his hoe, if that wouldn't be too obvious... Not that this is really subtle anyway. "You'll need someone better with people if ya want ta do that, then."

Beau gestures rudely, predictably enough, and continues to scowl at him. It softens just a hair, and she tilts her head to think that advice through. "What, you're not good with people?"

Because yes, she needs someone better than herself, and she'd assumed he'd be a good choice. Her styles of gathering information from people require having an in for interacting with them, and the technicians are the least communicative lot she's seen. It's not like they treat the captives like servants, she'd know how to work with that. It's like they're... as has been said repeatedly... test subjects. Things that just happen to understand speech, but nothing worth talking with.

Honestly, he kind of wants to laugh, and Joker does, although it's only a couple of small chuckles. All this work sure is doing its job of exhausting them, he has to say. Everything else, like the overwhelming sense of despair, can't be helping.

"I'm good at handling a crowd," he tells her honestly. He's a ringmaster first and foremost. 'Diplomat', well, that kind of got shoved onto a group of people who didn't really have the first idea of how to actually do it. "I like ta think I can handle people, but you'll find that there are a lot of stubborn folks in our lot that don't listen ta reason or loved ones. It's gonna be worse after what we've all just been through. I've learned not ta make promises on anythin' in that arena."

Beau shoves a hand up into her hairline, mussing it in frustration as she connects a few dots. "Right, fuck, this is a fucking carnival. Even if you're not putting on shows, like, ever. It's still for weird people who don't fit in anywhere, or play nice with outsiders, or any of that, isn't it."

Times like this, she misses picking fights with Molly, or longing - and lusting, a little - after Yasha. Taken as individuals, the carnival folks are almost normal kinds of maddening. She'd almost forgotten how frustrating dealing with them as a group was, since the whole getting arrested for others' crimes thing had overwhelmed a lot of her ambient outrage about the situation.

"Yuuuuuup." Welcome to Hell, Beau. Except not. Joker has been to actual Hell, and, he has to say, it was some huge fucking bullshit. The Carnival, for all its flaws, had always been a halfway decent place, even when they experienced things like Portland, or that shitty magical world.

A pity going along with it had them ending up here.

"And we did put on shows, once, before ya joined." Grunting, he tugs the hoe out and reaches up to tug his own hair back. This place is some pain in the ass, not even giving him a hair tie. "And the Ringmaster used ta 'hire' folks because they broke somethin' or got inta a fight with the workers, so, yer really not that far off, honestly."

She can believe they used to perform; it was only a couple weeks but she saw the carnival grounds themselves, and she checked out some of the tents during that time. That followup comment throws her for another loop.

"What the hell? That is an ass-backwards interview process! Who hires troublemakers for being troublemakers, normally you'd try to like..." Beau paces, gesturing as she searches for words. "Fence them in with upstanding sorts of people, you know, people to be good examples, as you pressure them into being something they're not. Or at least pretending a little better."

It's what happened with her, anyway. If there'd been other people as prone to misbehaving and breaking things as her at the monastery, she might have stuck around a little more willingly. If nothing else, that explains Strange and the other sorts who don't dress like they expect to be juggling for a crowd at a moment's notice.

Ooooh, it's been a while since someone has gotten so worked up about the Ringmaster's hiring process! Joker pauses, leaning on his tool to watch her pace and wildly gesture. It's fun to see it in someone other then himself, that kind of energetic conversation. He probably shouldn't waste time getting caught up in all of that, however...

"Well, back then it was more a sorta punishment, I think." Shifting back to work, he continues to talk. "If ya broke somethin', or snuck in, then ya would have ta pay for that kinda thing, wouldn't ya? So that was one way she'd hire folks, and take care of 'em if they didn't play nice with others." Or, rather, if they broke the golden rules of the carnival. Shout out to Starscream, the world's nosiest most pain in the ass bird.

"The other way was folks who made a deal ta work for her in exchange for somethin'. It was a mixed bag, really." After all, those who broke something didn't always mean it.

⇨ POLARIS

let's arbitrarily say 104 so her threads are spaced out

works for me!

o7

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject