Those who are interested in winning one small item from home are welcome to sign up here and test their luck! This is entirely opt-in, and TDMing characters can participate as well! Witch hunt winners who app and are accepted will find that their prize items appear in November.
[ hope you heeded the warning from overhead, because a few seconds later, a teenager in armor with a crazy-looking gun strapped to his back drops out of the air and lands in approximately the same spot you were just in. where the hell did he come from? must be that ginormous iron cage swinging overhead near the top floor of the building.
he straightens up, blinking--and wow, that left eye sure is, uh, glowy--and taps his.. is his left arm prosthetic, too? huh. anyway, he taps the prosthetic bicep impatiently. ] Hey, Belle, this isn't where we're supposed to be. [ a second tap as no answer is apparently forthcoming, and he heaves a sigh, finally glancing up. ] Hey, is this earth? What year is it?
FESTIVAL. a. [ oh, were you expecting cable to get in on the games or rides or whatever? nah, this boy's indulging in every conceivable fair food he can get his greedy lil fingers on. his arms are full. there's a turkey leg between his teeth. it would be a testament to gluttony for anyone who doesn't know he comes from a shitty post-apocalyptic future where food's scarce at best. .. look, he may have lived on krakoa a while, but you don't grow out of food insecurity that fast.
plus, fair food's tasty.
he arches his brows at anyone looking at him funny, shifting food around so he can pluck the turkey leg out of his bite, then offering it out. ] What? Did you want some? [ he ain't scared of cooties. ]
b. [ he turns one of the pumpkins over and his expression screws up into displeasure. ] 'Tell someone about the thing you hate most, deep down'? [ a sharp glance up. ] Hey, what the hell? What kind of carnival is this, anyway?
[ .. he doesn't really want to do it, but.. maybe. ]
WILDCARD. [ down to do the other games/rides/etc, just prompt me or pm for a personalized prompt! ]
[ ever since that horrific day of genosha, whenever there's a celebration or a festival that's being hosted by the "villagers" themselves, rogue spends the majority of her time patrolling than partaking in any fun activities. which... isn't a good start given she has been sentenced by the "council" to lead a community or a group for her "crime", or else there will be consequences.
she isn't exactly sure how to accomplish something like that, when she... well, was for breaking the simulation than saving it. some seemed to be okay with her so far despite her beliefs, but do they trust her? possibly not. but it's something she is used to, and rogue knows in order to gain trust of others is by earning it. ]
[ but that is neither here nor there. right now, it's important to make sure nothing in this festival/carnival will go astray, and what better way to keep an eye on everything than being a watchful eye in the skies? hovering, the southerner observes all the citizens until she spots a teenager with... familiar gear. but what really catches her eye is the arm prosthetic. there's only one person in her life with that, and her heart flutters in sheer shock, and disbelief. ]
Nathan!
[ probably should have gone with the codename than his birth name, but it might give him a better reason to look above him — which he will see a woman zooming down to him. ]
one; arrival. [ Dangling from a high up branch among the trees is, of course, a cage; within said cage is a young girl on the smaller side, peering down from the open hatch with a startled look on her face. In this moment a strong gust of wind blows by, and the fluffy pair of wings on her back puff up, not unlike a spooked pigeon, as her hands grip around the iron bars of the swaying cage. ]
Aaagh... This is so embarrassing... How am I supposed to get down?
two; pumpkin pick-up. [ Having fun wandering about the carnival grounds? Well, great news! A stranger approaches to interrupt you, a small pumpkin in hand, and with a nervous air about her. ]
Um—excuse me...
three; dueling potions. [ Come by this stall and you won't be alone. Your company in this particular adventure is staring intently between the two bottles, brow knit, mouth pursed; a long moment passes before she ventures into the silence: ]
... Is this even safe?
wildcard. ( or feel free to drop a prompt of your liking! you're also welcome to pm me if you want a custom starter for something. just as a heads up, i'm not a hundo percent certain i can app this round, but if not i'm looking at december. o7 )
[As Koharu approaches Fauna, she may notice that this girl has fox ears and a tail... and Fauna's eyeing Koharu's wings as well. Another youkai? Or someone else who was corrupted by power? ... Judging from how nervous she is, neither of those seems right. Fauna gives Koharu an appraising look... Or maybe it's just the look of a fox staring down a chicken.]
((ooc: please refer to this permissions post for potential content warnings!))
1. this is a low-flying panic attack
After close to a minute of freezing up in pure panic, half a minute getting the latch of the cage undone (too easy-it was only jammed, not locked), and an undetermined number of minutes staring blankly at the street three stories below (oblivious to the scrape on the back of his hand, which has begun to bleed), Tanaka has settled on three possible explanations for this. One, he's dreaming, in which case at least his subconscious has decided to do something new. Maybe something good came of hanging around when Satou was playing those Western-style fantasy games. The second option is really a variation on the first: he's been recaptured and they're testing something on him - a psychedelic drug, virtual reality, the specifics don't matter as much as the situation. The third option is that he somehow, suddenly, actually in a different universe. He feels insane for even considering it, but, well, no one knows exactly what demi-humans are capable of. He remembers one of the labcoats speculating once that demi-humans don't actually revive, but replace themselves with an uninjured version from another dimension. It's not completely impossible and insane. Just mostly.
He discards the possibility that he's completely broken from reality and this is all a hallucination. If that was going to happen, it would have happened ten years ago.
So, if that's what could be going on here, what's the response? If it's option one, he'd probably be better off just sitting back and trying to get some sleep within the dream until he wakes up. If it's option two, he's still better off doing that. It would avoid giving whoever's observing the satisfaction of some response out of him. It's option three that poses an issue, because that would mean he needs to get out of here. Fast.
"Shit." He's going to go with the stupid option, isn't he. He sighs and looks down more intently. He can't just jump out - at this height, he'd probably break a lot of bones but not die. Even if he did die, he'd rather avoid resetting in public. The street seems empty now, but it looks kind of residential. Someone could turn up at any moment. That leaves climbing down, which is unfortunate, since the wall behind him looks to be very flat stone fitted very close together. He can't exactly chisel handholds into it.
...He can't. But his ghost can.
In the minutes that follow, anyone watching will see a set of horizontal grooves appear in the wall, which Tanaka uses to find purchase after climbing around the outside of the cage to get to the first one. If they're watching closely enough, they might just see what looks to be a black talon twice the size of a human finger cutting into the stone.
"Thanks," Tanaka says once he finally has his feet on the ground, seemingly to the empty air.
2. sing a song of sixpence that goes
Some time later, in a quiet corner of a public space, Tanaka pulls out the parchment to read what he's been charged with. It should probably take more than a page, but maybe they're grouping particular crimes under one umbrella. In any case, best to know what whoever's in charge here knows. What they think is important.
It doesn't take long to read. The charge is, simply, Breach of Contract.
"Huh?" He stares at the parchment, openly and completely baffled. This whole situation being some kind of elaborate prison was just about the only thing he'd been told that made sense, but that was based on the assumption that someone in charge here knew anything about him. Breach of contract? What contract?
"Did they get the wrong guy?"
3. burn the witch
As far as Tanaka's concerned, the Witch Hunt is a very stupid game that's much better avoided entirely. People think that's fun? Really? Still, when someone wearing a witch hat rushes onto the street in front of him, he can't help himself. There are too many people in the world who might take a stupid game too far.
"Hey," he calls out, before gesturing to the alley behind him. "You can hide back here."
Unfortunately if Tanaka is looking for some privacy, Kurama has a tendency to linger in shadows and corners. The question is enough to attract his attention and he steps forward as a way of announcing himself.
"From my understanding, it is not unusual for some to be charged with crimes they have no memory of committing. Or even, a crime that doesn't exist where they come from."
[ To make it short. Yes. Yes it does happen every time.
What, you may ask?
Well. The guy was naked in a cage that's rather high up. Sure, he's gotten himself arranged so nobody has to see anything that they don't want, but this is not an unusual thing for one Anthony Edward Stark, inventor extraordinaire, Director of SHIELD, and all around most disliked man this side of New York City. He doesn't even look all that bothered about it. He looks... bored. Really, really bored. He yawned, one leg dangling idly out the open door, the other curled to hide anything that might be apparent.
Is he biding his time? Sure. Does he have an undersuit he could deploy from his bones anytime too? Yeah, he does. Of course he does. The small holes on his arms and chest look odd, but from up here, he's watching down below. If you're a fellow new arrival, he'll look over, with a quirk of his lips and say: ] First time?
[ Then again, if you're trying to save him, you'll probably be greeted by a roll of his eyes and: ] You know, this is less unusual than you think. Can we... maybe bring a change of clothes?
[ First rule of showing up in the past / fantasy world / alternate universe: Do Not reveal the scope of your powers.
Is that why a certain suit isn't in play at this very moment? Maybe. Don't worry about it. We're not questioning that right now. ]
2. Carnival — Bobbing for... pumpkins?
[ He is not wearing a costume, so there might be some annoyed looks that someone isn't playing along. But he'll at least... you know. Try. To blend in with the locals a little bit. This really is just yet another jaunt to another world, he's sure. It's a Monday, whatever. Bad things always happen on Mondays anyway.
He reaches in to grab a pumpkin, before he pulls it out, and looks at it. He grins a little bit. Easy. Come on, at least give him a challenge?
So he turns to the nearest person (everyone is a stranger) and leans against a pole casually. ] So, what do you all do around here for fun? Want to take a little bit of time and show me the ropes?
[ Goddammit, it did say to ask someone on a date. Sorry, random stranger. He's turning on the charm. ]
3. Carnival — Maybe we shouldn't send this guy into the funhouse
[ See. The funhouse is kind of silly, but he's bored and trying to get every little bit of information out of this strange and very weird little place. So into the funhouse it is.
Can he complete it quickly? Sure. Will he? We'll see. Once he rounds a corner, there's a version of him offering a military contract to teenagers. Sure! He looks at it, and... shrugs.
Okay, so it's just memories, right? That's not that bad. (No, Tony, that's a fucking crime and you should feel bad about it.) (He does not.) He turned around another corner, and there's an actual reflection of him... what. Killing a guy? Morbid, but he was getting the Halloween vibe here. ]
Huh. You'd think they'd try to show something more pleasant, but I suppose it's to be expected. What's the point in making things pleasant, huh?
[ Is he. Is he talking to you? The repetition of this was a little gruesome, but he remembered this day. ]
You know, that guy was going for DC, yeah? Couldn't be helped, I suppose. It was more efficient.
[ Who knew if Mallen could have been stopped without it, but. Well. Tony is very good at justifying bad things to himself as necessary. ]
4. Wildcard!
[ I'm down for anything. Just hmu with something! You can also reach out to me and we can hash something out, if you want. It's whatever! Don't mind the cobwebs etc etc it's been a hot minute since I've had this guy out. Oh I should mention, this is DoS era, so :) enjoy :) ]
[No. No. Not this asshole. Not Tony fucking Stark. Anybody but him!
Quentin peers up at Tony with a level of skepticism that can only mean that he knows exactly who Tony Stark is. But even if that was unclear, he makes it obvious as soon as he crosses his arms and starts talking, his tone excruciatingly smug.]
Well, well, well. If it isn't an Avenger, Earth's "Mightiest" [the air quotes are audible in Quentin's tone, even without him actually doing them with his fingers] Hero, needing to get saved by the motherfucking X-Men. Again. For like the eight millionth time.
[It would be hard to say anybody waking up a cage is having a good time, but there is a certain man who is definitely having a worse time.
The cage itself isn't any higher than most, really—four stories up, bolted into the side of a brick building. The door is on the opposite side from the wall, though, which isn't great. That's not the real cause of the bad time, though. No, what's more immediately obviously a problem is that this particular man's front and hands are covered in blood. He's also clearly tense, shoulders set in a defensive posture as he hurriedly glances about, one hand gripped tightly around a bar to help keep his balance.
The combination of the blood and the fact he's dressed like a typical businessman (minus jacket) might make one reasonably assume he's not prepared to climb out of and around a precariously positioned cage forty-plus feet off the ground—but he reaches through the wide opening of the bars for the latch anyway.
There's plenty of people around, but he's not shouting for help or attention or anything. How strange...]
⬬ How do I work this? | games & booths
[The situation has only marginally improved.
The presence of a carnival of all things seems so stupidly mundane given the rest of the situation—somehow in an unknown city, potentially an unknown world in another realm, or a simulation—that even as sharp as he usually is, he struggles to make sense of it. People simply appearing in the midst of whatever constitutes normal life for this place, and it's apparently treated as a nuisance at worst to those already here. It's remarkable what one can get used to... or it would be if he wasn't so wound up about it.
Either way, he needs information, and he hates standing out, so he manages to find somewhere to wash his hands and ends up trading his blood-soaked clothing for a stereotypical vampire costume. (The fangs are tossed away. There's only so much he can take.)
He can be found around the carnival, the serious expression on his face clearly marking him as not here for the fun of it. He thinks he can be forgiven. This is also currently the best place for him to avoid... suspicion? Disdain? At least the carnival workers don't seem like they're ready to shove him into another cage—not that he'd allow himself to remain in one, but there are too many unknowns to risk it. His magic doesn't seem to be working properly.
So he's working on solving those unknowns. He browses the games and booths without engaging with them, more interested in the people, so anyone might find a tall man in a cape and high collar approaching subtly, waiting for the right moment to ask:]
Have you been here long?
[... it barely sounds like a question, but that might be blamed on the fact that this man looks utterly exhausted, even if he's managing to keep his posture upright. He's also still managing to sound halfway casual, which is probably an accomplishment given how shaken he still is internally.]
⬬ Am I right? Am I wrong? | fortune teller
[At some point, he found himself aggressively encouraged by a carnival worker to go see the fortune teller—it'll help his mood improve, surely, or at least give him some clarity, right? Now that he's away from it, on the edge of the carnival grounds, he doesn't like that he can barely remember it. It's worse than unsettling, knowing his mind can be tampered with even further. So much for clarity.
By this point, he's at least managed to get dressed in something less ridiculous; a small point of normalcy in this utterly abnormal situation. He's still not convinced this isn't some sort of elaborate hallucination or illusion. The latter surely wouldn't be terribly difficult for his enemies to set up if they had a mind to do it, as much as he hates to admit it. The former—
The blood is gone but he still sees red.
Bringing a hand over his face doesn't help, nor does closing his eyes. The anchor of certainty that's kept him going all this time has come loose. Seeing his ward in front of him, still physically whole, might have been enough—but he can't even have that. Between that, these people torn between treating him like a guest or an invader, knowing the possibility of Chaos's borrowed magic corrupting his mind, that accusatory scrap of paper—
He laughs, shaky and unrestrained, heedless of anyone else who might be there to hear it. It's not pleasant to listen to, but it might fit in with the unsettling atmosphere of the season.]
⬬ My God! What have I done? | wildcard
[Any other ideas? Hit me up here or over here or PM! As a note: Zekarion cannot be sensed supernaturally, and any abilities trying to do so will react as if he doesn't exist. The more characters that notice this being Weird As Hell, the more fun I have. You can find more info on my profile page here!]
[Dante startles upon being addressed, and even after the stranger's question registers, it takes them a moment to find their "voice."
This guy...
They know what humans feel like compared to things like Abnormalities, Distortions, and Bloodfiends. But it's like this guy isn't even here in front of them at all.
[Haaah, this view is starting to get boring. Of all the things to land into, it's another prison? It would have been more fun to end up in the middle of a dessert, or in a den of beasts in a jungle! But for better or worse, this cage is way easier to get out of than Meursault. He didn't even need to use lockpicks for the bars to swing out, the bright sky welcoming Dazai to the open world.
Oh. The sky? The chill of the high winds make it certain that wherever he is, it's somewhere high up. Do they expect these poor unsuspecting Chosen to fall to their deaths? Dazai has imagined it in the past: the adrenaline high of feeling the gravity against the wind, the crack in his skull and guts spilling through the cracks. It would have been a quick and painless death, and it would be beautiful.
But Dazai already decided he wants a double suicide, so he can't die just yet.
So...how do we get out of this conundrum? There's only one answer:]
Oh noooooo, whatever shall I do?
[Act like a fair maiden in distress, of course.]
Can't a kind soul come by to save me? I am but a helpless young man in a precarious situation!
ii — pumpkin pick-up
[Ask a stranger out on a date, the note in his hand says.
Dazai is...disappointed, to say the least. Not because it's something he doesn't want to do, but because he doesn't even need a jack-o'-lantern to tell him to do that! Does he even get a prize for doing this? Forget that, he doesn't even need a prize.
Might as well get it over with. He basically picks out the first adult he could see in the crowd - and immediately grasps their hands.]
You must come with with me. [His face is of outmost seriousness.] For you are the chosen one.
iii — dueling potions
[Most people would want the good luck potion, but Dazai is not most people.]
So what kind of accidents would you end up in? [He asks, eyes practically sparkling.]
Would flower pots fall on you? Do banana splits show up? Oooh, maybe you'd get a cold and I could skip work tomorrow!
iv — wildcard!
[Feel free to PM me here or poke soukokus for other ideas! ]
[Ryotaro, however, has been frowning disapprovingly at this whole setup. This feels especially cruel to him, to tease him with a chance of winning someone that might actually make his luck a little better. So when this random person acts all excited over getting a bad-luck potion, he stares at him like the other guy has grown three heads suddenly.]
Why on earth would you want any kind of bad luck?!
[Is it possible for the ticking of a clock to sound defeated?
They'd decided to drop by the fairgrounds on a whim, but now that they're here in front of the costume tent, surrounded by workers going so far as to take notes on Dante's appearance, they're beginning to wonder if they've made a mistake.
Just as they're about to turn around and leave, however, they catch a glimpse of movement at the corner of their vision.]
< H-Hey! A little help? >
B. Pumpkin Pick-Up!
[It's kind of funny how walking into a festival of your own volition can leave you in greater spirits than being unceremoniously deposited in a tree. Dante may be just as unable to enjoy the festival food this time as they were the last, but that doesn't stop them from taking a look at the games and booths available.
Some of them look a bit... dodgy (what was with those flasks?) but this pumpkin one seems mostly innocent. More silly than anything. Pulling their hand from their pocket, they pluck up the first pumpkin they see, and...]
1. "Have someone draw something on your face in permanent marker."
< Uh oh. W-Wow! It's a good thing I don't have a face, huh? Looks like I can't do this one... >
[They are not above using this clock of theirs to their advantage.]
2. "Tell someone the worst excuse you've used to get out of something?"
[You know, it's been so long, it's probably about time they admitted this to someone.]
< So... one time in order to get out of dancing in front of a crowd I claimed to have forgotten what dancing was. >
C. Fortune Telling
[They can't say they believe in fortune-telling, but between the festive mood and the barkers' existence, somehow they'd ended up being talked into going and getting a fortune anyway. Or... they're pretty sure they did. It's all kind of fuzzy for some reason. Accurate, but fuzzy.
Which is just the combination of descriptors to make them worried about what went on in there.
And yet, despite it all, they find themselves seeking someone out instead of booking it out of the festival grounds. Whether it's to confirm their suspicions or for some other reason not even they know.]
< Hey, have you been in that weird tent yet? >
D. Wildcard
[Feel free to drop any prompt you like or hit me up if you have anything particular you'd like to play out!]
Edited (html is the bane of my existence) 2024-10-14 22:43 (UTC)
[It shouldn't surprise him to see Dante walking around the festival, really. Honestly, he's not sure of the purpose of these attractions if the whole thing is a simulation, but at least it's Peak Aesthetic for Vincent right now.]
Which weird tent.
[It's so flatly spoken that it's not even a question; Vincent knows which one Dante means, and he's just being pedantic because he's been feeling more irritable lately. Eventually, he does add:]
[Oh, because he loves being made a spectacle for everyone to watch. Joy. This wasn't what he was expecting today, but this, along with a bright flash of light overwhelming his senses was enough to give him an idea that he wasn't home anymore. That, and someone foolish enough to kidnap him and trap him once more wouldn't sit well with his mother. Not that it mattered, of course -- he was here now, and his hand touches the iron cage's bars.
He's silent for a moment, and strongly grips the bars. Sure, it wasn't hard to get out of, but, being Hyrilis, his style is awfully, awfully overboard. With one hand resting on the bar, it begins to melt underneath his touch. A light emitting from his fingertips, as the bars begin to break.
WIth that being broken, he takes a step forward, and... Meets air.]
Goodness me, I would have fallen to my death.
[He sounds so utterly delighted. Only not really.]
ii. funhouse
[Why did he ever think he'd have luck with this sort of game? Of course he's been graced with the bad luck potion. Of course. Still, he can't be too unhappy with it. Nothing bad seems to be happening to him right this moment, but he is a bit wary of everything happening around him. It's far too calm -- a little too calm for something that's suppose to give him bad luck.
None the less, he focuses on the other games that people are playing. That is, until one of the children running in his general direction just happens to throw a pumpkin pie straight in his face. The pie meant for his friend, but he tries to ignore the pumpkin filling that's falling off his skin. The back of his arm rubbing away the pumpkin.
He sighs, and walks forward to get his bearings again. Only to trip on a rock that's far too small to really trip on. Really. How did he do that just now?]
Ouch??
iii. wild card [Make your own prompt, i don't mind.]
[ooc: Hi again, Fel here, just throwing my old/new boy into the tdm. For any prompts that are outside of mine, feel free to DM this journal, or send me a message on discord, lilithscord]
[............. you know, Yosuke shouldn't laugh. but he does anyway, though he tries to choke it back.]
Dude. You look like you've got my luck right about now.
[he'd had some napkins left over from his last snack, and when he makes sure that Hyrilis isn't going to spontaneously fall over again, he holds it out.]
You got... a little bit of something on your face.
[ the latch isn't all that hard to pop, and he's no stranger to jailbreak. so it's not long before wolfwood’s got the cage door swung wide open, sitting on the cold iron floor of it with his legs dangling out. much like life, with one obstacle out of the way, up pops another-- his cage is three stories up, dangling just far enough from the window of a building that he can't bridge the distance in search of solid ground. unfortunately, below him seems like too solid ground, albeit ground that's a lot more... green than he's used to.
hopefully, someone will spot him through the window and take pity on him. until then, try not to walk past below his cage. wolfwood is heckling all bypassers. (as if the locals weren't stressed enough already.)
✝ PUMPKIN PICK-UP
[ it almost looks like a street market in a big city like december or july, and wolfwood might make the mistake of thinking he's stumbled into one-- if the environment here wasn't the total opposite of the planet he reluctantly calls home. no sand, no oppressive heat. in fact, there's a soft breeze in the air, and in spite of the morning sun shining on the carnival, wolfwood is... chilly.
not that he'd admit as much.
the other peculiar thing is, the booths in the not-a-market aren't manned by old tradesmen and snake oil peddlers. most of them aren't selling anything at all, instead offering games or rides or fortunes. a scam if he's ever seen one. the stall that finally begs his attention has a line of small, orange... fruits?, painted with some mockery of a grin. he picks one up, holds it at arm's length to take a look at it. it smirks back at him, mocking. ]
Are these things edible? What a waste.
✝ WITCH HAT
[ it's well past noon, and wolfwood has found somewhere quiet to tuck himself away for a smoke break and a snack. he's still in his messy suit jacket, button-up, and pants, but he's acquired a taste for accessorizing, apparently. perched on his head is a black witch hat, stereotypical in how average it is.
somewhere else, there's an empty table that used to house a full complement of witch hats.
this is not one of those hats.
the witch hat that wolfwood is wearing is a costume. which is encouraged here. this costume is entirely legally distinct from the witch hunt witch hats.
it looks like one. but it isn't. ]
✝ WILDCARD
[ bring your own prompt, request an evening carnival activity, etc, etc ]
[ in hindsight, perhaps this was not the best idea to come into his head tonight, deciding to pay over for a ticket to come into the maze. not that vash ever has good ideas, mind you, but this would count towards one of the lower highlights even in the series of mistakes he's made. it's disorientating, the myriad of reflections staring back at him with eyes too old and too knowing - is that what he really looks like? - that vash mostly stares at the ground as he walks, carefully toeing around the edges of the mirrors to avoid running into them.
perhaps it's just his imagination, but he can hear footsteps - behind him, before him, leading the way as surely as a clear path to a slaughterhouse. a couple of wrong turns as vash whirls around, chasing a glimmer of a blade at the edge of one mirror, a tinkling of golden earring dangling off the end of a dark-fringed ear - and vash is completely lost.
okay, vash thinks to himself as he does a full circle turn where he is completely hemmed in by the mirrors. everywhere his eyes land, there's something wrong about the reflection that looks back at him - white face, white hair, red hands, green hands, red coat, black coat. surely this is all some kind of weird trick of the lighting, some angle of the mirror that throws up something wrong. okay, this isn't fun anymore. he wants out of here, thank you!
spying a gap between two such mirrors - avoiding looking directly at either of them, though one holds its - his - hands out expectantly, vash slips through and picks a random direction to walk in. ]
[ the seasons changing never ceases to be a wonder for vash; it had been midwinter when he'd arrived - with snow that froze and stung every bit of exposed skin it came into contact with. and here we are again, with the first sign of chilly wind picking up that whips at his baggy red coat as vash makes his way down the street with a paper bag full of groceries held in one arm. the other hand, he's using to cheerfully wave greetings at the locals who might pass him by with not so much as a glance, giving this tall stranger a wide, suspicious berth. it doesn't seem to deter him any from saying hi!! or some such friendly word, though.
even while he tries to stay cheery this spooky season, the creaking cages that suddenly appear around the town and creaking ominously with each heavy gust of cold wind is enough to creep anyone out ... and vash keeps stealing apprehensive glances at a few of them in his path, whipping his head around whenever he hears the rusty metal grind against each other, unconsciously quickening his steps to get out of the street.
it is when he is passing by one of those cages that something comes shooting out, narrowly missing his head but bouncing off his shoulder and then falling to the ground. he makes a show of it anyway - not that the people walking past him cares - and bends down to pick it up. ]
Ow!! Ow ow ow ... A shoe?
[ note: this is for all the characters who are new/doing a tdm! it doesn't even have to be a shoe - could be hair clip, a book, some kind of other heavy or dangerous projectiles ... he's used to it! let him help you! ]
➤ CARNIVAL
[ it is pumpkin time, and you know what it means. vash, predictably, has jumped head first into these challenges, though he seems to be giving away the pumpkins to other people once he's completed the tasks ... not sure if that would work or not when they go claim the prize, but feel free to take it and try your luck!
in any case, this one is a hard one, because he needs another willing participant. ]
Hi! Hey! Hello!!!! You there!!!
[ they might be doing something super important, or they're just hanging out enjoying the festive atmosphere in the comfort of their own personal space. but no longer, because vash will invade it like a thrown dart at a soap bubble, a pumpkin tucked under one arm, waving some white bundle of clothing with the other.
he's also. in a full bacon outfit. you have to be the egg. i am so sorry about this. ]
Do you have a minute? Could you put this on and come with me??
➤ FORTUNE TELLING
[ it is, of course, curiosity that draws vash into the tent. he's used to seeing things like this - on a planet full of lost hopes, travelling fortune tellers could be either welcomed in as a harbinger of fortune or else run out of town as the very opposite of one - so he's met his fair share of them over the years. they say some reassuring but incomprehensible words and he's lead back out in no time at all, rubbing the smoke out of his eyes and sneezing a few times.
unfortunately, that means you'll run smack bang into vash as he stops abruptly in the middle of the street to let out a violent sneeze.
note: this is a fun one! vash will speak his mind as bluntly and honestly as he can, which will be a change of pace for those used to him being hella evasive and sus about saying things outright! let's have fun with the uncomfortable truths! ]
➤ WILDCARD + FUNHOUSE
[ hello hello! i am down to do any and all prompts in the TDM, open to all! please feel free to hit me up with a starter for witch hunt, other pumpkin-ers looking for a participant, or anything your heart desires!
for funhouse, i am particularly looking to share memories of the big fall / spooky body horror science experiment trauma / or jeneora rock massacre. these are all relating to vash's crime of disturbing the peace, and i would love to do this with vash's existing cr primarily - but anyone is welcome to! just give me a shout and we can work out the best one for us.
thank you so much and i'm excited to play with everyone! ]
[Is Octavian enjoying the festive atmosphere? Not really, so if nothing else, Vash charging up at full speed is at least something different to look at, rather than all the festivities. He doesn't really know what to... do, as it were, at a carnival; leaving aside how the semitangible, not-always-cooperative nature of his spectral body would probably make playing games difficult, there's also just - well, a lot of people. He doesn't know how to do "a lot of people."
He stares at the bacon costume with open shock, or at least as open as he's capable of displaying, which is pretty muted. Still, there is a raised eyebrow. Eventually he clears his throat, a dusty, chalk-snapping sound, and in his quiet voice:]
a little tacky, if he's being fair. a cage? barely an inconvenience. still, he's partially entertained by the boldness of it. trapping a vampire in a cage? not the brightest of moves. but why not indulge them? perhaps they'll show themselves.
in fact. ]
Hello. Are you the one who did this? Why don't we talk? Come a little closer.
[ he's feeling a bit peckish. ]
( ii. the funhouse )cw: video features violence, murder, blood.
[ the age old recriminations of murder and vampire are easy enough to ignore. olrox for the most part is examining the mirrors curiously, running a spike of green magic down the sides as he passes.
then the mirrors begin to show a memory. one that featured a vampire hunter. a belmont. a hunter. and one that featured olrox himself in all his sharptoothed glory. the fight was quick. it was not painless. and it left a victim in the shape of a young boy, shock and horror displayed upon his face. olrox in the memory merely says, and I will kill you too. one day. but not tonight.
olrox pauses at this, his expression inscrutable. ]
( iii. pumpkin pickup )
[ games and tricks. he does enjoy both in moderation, but he's not quite sold on doing so in such a manner. olrox turns the challenge in his hands with a hum. ]
I'm not quite sure about this one. I like my shirt. It's silk after all.
[A deep chuckle echoes throughout the funhouse, causing nearby mirrors to vibrate slightly. There is someone else here, but they are very good at concealing themselves. While it's unclear whether the source of that mysterious laughter is a friend or foe, they appear to prefer dialogue over violence.]
You made that little lad an orphan, huh?
[His tone is not accusatory, but rather neutral. Shockingly, so. Anyone else would probably call the vampire a "monster" for his crime.]
[Carnivals are something that are still kind of new for Tsuna. He's used to amusement parks and summer festivals and the two of them being different things. So it is kind of cool to see the combination of rides and games and food stalls. Just to see, mind. Every time there's a clatter or a thunk from one of the rides, he winces, and tries to move away.
Yeah, definitely not his scene. Those rides look way to rickety for him. Who even thought that roller coasters were a good idea. He'll go stick with the midway games. Or maybe there's a stand with choco-bananas.
Of course, he might have also spent a bit too long staring at that roller coaster. Or the Tilt-a-whirl. Or the Scrambler.
Long enough that it might suggest interest.]
[B - Not-So-Funhouse]
[Tsuna is lost.
Really, it's to be expected in a maze of mirrors, and for someone like Tsuna, who has never had the best sense of direction. But it's all the more frustrating since there isn't really a way to tell where you've been and where you are going. And all the reflections are starting to make Tsuna uneasy. It's only thing to see a silly reflection of yourself, a big head on a tiny body, or the reverse of that.
It's another thing to be confronted with a version of yourself, older, and wearing a sharp, black suit and familiar rings. The person that, if things go the way they are, that Tsuna might end up being. It's not so bad really, as Tsuna turns, finding another mirror showing this older Tsuna with his Family, the Sky of the Vongola supported by his Guardians and others who helped him along his way. His Pride.
But then there's another turn, and he's confronted with a colder version of himself, a version that is not changing the direction of the Vongola but instead staying the course, and across from that the disappointed visage of Vongola Primo (i thought you would inherit my will. i trusted you). He hurries away from that to find the bright, chilling smile of Byakuran, the leader of the Millefiore family in front of him (haven't forgotten me have you), with the image soon being consumed by familiar orange flame. It's a quick turn to find another image of himself, this one looking blank save for the indigo flame over his left eye, a suggestion that Mukuro Rokudo has finally made good on his thread to destroy the Mafia and use Tsuna to do it (kufufufuf).
Mukuro's haunting laughter fills the corner that Tsuna has found until he turns again, and smacks right into another mirror, and falls back on the ground. Stunned.]
[C - Midway]
[The Hall of Mirrors may have been a little too much for Tsuna. He's found a bench a ways away and is currently leaning on his knees to catch his breath. This place, man. Can't he catch a break, even at a carnival.
There's a loud groan before he finally forces himself up and considers the midway games. Maybe he's safe with one of them. Or finding a good food stand. Do they even have takoyaki here?]
I don't even know if I have enough...
[D - General]
[Throughout the month, Tsuna has most likely been reaching out to people to make sure they're okay after the reset. He can also been found at his usual haunts of the arcade and the clubhouse. And maybe even making a point to do some training.
It's a bit haphazard that, since usually training for him is not so much the upkeep of abilities and fitness, but instead an intensive course of learning the new special power in a week for the final battle to come. The dangers of being a shonen protagonist.]
[E - Wildcard]
[Open to other situations and shenanigans! urbaninja or PM to plot!]
[Yosuke is still wandering, of course, but he does see a familiar sight while he does it. he frowns, his eyebrows knitting together a bit as he regards him.]
[ The older man remains relatively calm in his cage: this is hardly the first time he's been captured. If he were to guess on such limited information, it's likely his captor had an issue with the Rangers as they often do. But this setup tells him almost nothing.
He carefully peers down at the ground, searching for passing shadows. Friends or foes? No way of knowing, but he'll have to risk it to have a better chance of getting down unharmed. He isn't as young as he used to be, and jumping two or three stories has certain risks.
First he'll have to attract attention to gain more information---and maybe get an idea on how to get down safely. He pulls a laser pen from his pocket and points it at the ground, using it to draw little blue light shapes on the ground below him. If one of the people below seems to see the light, he'd call out. ]
Excuse me? Hey, is this how your town normally works? Afraid I don't have a baseline.
• the funhouse
[ Billy should really know better than to play carnival games by now. Better to avoid carnivals entirely. They're often full of creepy clowns and tend to attract monster attacks...but this one is different. He pushes through the maze, focusing on the ground as much as possible, but his own voice chimes in.
Don't run from it. You know what you did.
He tries to hasten his exit and stumbles. slamming into a mirror while the reflections behind him snicker.
Billy bites back a curse and forces himself onward, eventually so on-edge from the mocking laughter that he balls up a fist. ]
So, question: how much gets added to my sentence if I initiate some property damage?
• pumpkin pickup
[ Strange how Billy didn't just leave the carnival after that mess. He spends a surprisingly long time rifling through the costumes, some silly, some strange, before settling on a farmer. The straw hat seems to fit his tired man vibes, and the overalls are reminiscent of his early teenaged blunder years.
And as much as he'd rather not play the games, some of the potential prizes might make his settling-in process easier. So he crouches to study the pumpkins, not picking one up just yet. ]
...Are we sure these things aren't primed to attack us?
[One of the disconcerting new cages seems to have been strung up on easy mode, hanging from a sign post a grand total of three feet off the ground. Despite this, the occupant of this cage hasn't managed to escape.
In fact, he hasn't even tried.
Kabane Kusaka is a young teenager, short, sporting messy dark hair and a black hoodie. He doesn't seem all that concerned, perhaps because he's already opened his cage. He could leave at any time. Instead, he sits comfortably - or as comfortably as he can in the cold, hard, closed quarters - kicking his sneakers back and forth through the air while silently people watching.
He's waiting.
For help? For an explanation? Maybe even for a guided tour?
No.
He's waiting for his captor to come back and give him permission to leave.
Have fun with this poor, earnest idiot.]
ii. the funhouse
[Kabane has never been to a carnival before, and despite that he knows he has more important things to do, he can't resist sneaking a quick peek at the house of mirrors. This quick peek ends up lasting a solid twenty minutes when he's distracted by the monster staring back at him from the mirrors.
Anyone entering after him will send him into a panic. He whirls around with inhuman speed and flattens his back to the closest mirror, a desperate attempt to hide his reflection.]
U-Um! [He stutters as his brain blue screens on him.] This one's broken.
[The obvious lie is delivered through a nervous, almost uncanny grin.
His unseen reflection growls behind him.
He gulps.]
iii. witch hunt
Here.
[Hello, stranger! Kabane has just handed you a witch hat.
His big, red eyes spark with pride at finally having learned how to play the game properly.]
not in a creepy way, definitely not, but more in a "what is going on" way ... maybe he's just sitting there for fun? though not even vash could understand what kind of a kid like that could gain from just sitting there dangling his feet.
finally, after about half an hour, he decides to intervene: ]
Hello! [ hope he's not startled by a blond mess suddenly appearing beside the cage, even though the smile is friendly enough. ] Are you lost? Where're your friends?
i. a broken mirror only shows as best it can | HOUSE OF MIRRORS
[hey the cool thing about larping as a vampire is that everyone just assumes that's already your costume and the local npcs don't try to dress you up
Anyway.
Vincent, for his part, was mostly just interested in investigating the carnival to ensure there's no funny business so Sephiroth can safely enjoy himself. By now, he is fully committed to ensuring that the young man can take as much normality as possible. That perhaps Vincent can indeed change a thread of fate, to endeavor that Sephiroth's future is spared.
Then, in the midst of his brooding, Vincent gets deeply encouraged (forced) into the Hall of Mirrors. Planet Damn It.
It leaves Vincent to huff softly, irritable. Ever since his sentencing, he's felt more easily aggravated, like his blood is ready to boil. Understandable, he thinks to himself; there's been too much loss as of late, and the final nail in the coffin (no joke intended) was Peter's sudden disappearance after the reset. Losing that boy does make his heart ache, even if he can't afford to stop and dwell for long.
Just another sin to add to the rest.
Lucrecia... are you sure?
That is Vincent's own voice. Younger, softer. Vincent jerks his head in the direction of the sound, gritting his teeth. Not again, this again--
He can see her in a mirror. Beautiful, tired, lashing out: Am I sure? Am I sure?! If it's just me, then yes, I'm sure!]
Enough.
[Vincent buries his claws into the mirror, violently jerking his hand back as he rips the glass apart.]
You don't need to remind me. I know my sins. I will always know them.
ii. haunting memories that drown a wasted life | FORTUNETELLER
[Once again, he'd been pulled into some activity or another against his will, and this time was fortunetelling.
The thing about the lines to the future is that they do fork. They split based on various decisions, but often, the basic story will be told. Minor differences here and there, but that path is definite.
He doesn't remember what happened in that woman's tent, much in the way the memory of his sentencing is a bit murky, but nonetheless the emotion of it remains. Of being known. Vincent despises it.
So he lurks away from it, to grind his teeth and clench his eyes shut. Maybe that's enough of this place. He's done his rounds.]
[ too bad that the first person he runs into is, probably, the last person he wants to see.
vash has got quite a few things going on - he's won a couple of prizes from the booths taking advantage of the festive carnival times, it seems, because he's got some kind of a funky pumpkin mask hanging off one side, and a bunch of candy in a spooky ghost shaped bucket. ]
Hi! Hello! Vincent! Over here!!!
[ as though he will fail to notice the tall blond running full tilt at him from across the way ... ]
((OOC: Ryotaro will be taken post-Saraba Den-O: Final Countdown movie for this TDM, due to the fact that I don't have icons of his physically-deaged self for the other Den-O movies. This sadly means that he is pre-2009/pre-Kamen Rider Decade...but it also means that we'll get to have fun with him being this far behind the times >D))
Arrival
Ryotaro wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not, at first. Ever since that situation with the Ghost Train, he's had a few uncomfortable dreams here and there. But normally, he always woke up with at least one voice in his head inquiring if he was okay - a constant reassurance that everything was fine, that he was home and safe once more.
This time, however, there are no voices in his head when he wakes up. In fact, he's not even in bed. He finds himself in one of those cages, on the ledge of a random rooftop, looking out over the city. His surprise yelp echoes along the other rooftops as he rattles the bars of his cage. "H-how did I get here?! Hey, someone help get me out of here...!" Surely, some kind soul will take pity on him and help him out? It's not like if he pushes too hard on the bars facing over the edge, the door to his cage just pops open on its own--
Oops, it just did. Now, he's shouting and flailing his legs as he clings to the bars of the cage's door, trying to swing back onto solid ground. This is officially an Unusual amount of bad luck today, even for him! He really would be grateful if someone - anyone - shows up to keep him from falling several stories to the sidewalk...
Accidentally looking suspicious...
After being rescued and given a basic explanation of what's going on, Ryotaro seems much calmer and eager to learn all he can about this new world he's found himself in. At the very least, it's a little comforting to know that he's not on his own on dealing with the oddities of his new (temporary, he thinks) home. But within the first few days after his arrival, he needs to do a serious check.
Down a back alley, towards the docks...and not realizing that he might have attracted someone's attention already. If they follow him, they will find him slipping into a small abandoned warehouse that just happens to have its door hanging open. He's standing in front of a crate, looking over the items laying on it. Should someone managed to sneak up close enough, they will spot the following items: keys, wallet with a name tag, a basic flip phone, a somewhat fancier and red flip phone, what appears to be a train pass case...and a weird metal belt with different colored buttons on the side of the buckle? Surely nothing unusual about that at all...
Festival - bobbing for pumpkins The festival is a welcome distraction for him, and he's been munching on some meat-on-a-stick meal as he passes by the floating pumpkins game. Figuring that it works just like the regular duck game, he figures that spending a small coin or two wouldn't hurt. The worst he expected was to gain a 'nothing; try again' label on the bottom.
Which is why, if someone approaches him in that moment, he is blushing bright red as he stares at the bottom label reading 'Exchange clothes with a stranger'. "But-but--" He's immediately hushes by the NPC running the game while being told that because he paid for it, he has to do the challenge. He looks like he's about to faint from embarrassment...help him? Or heckle him?
Wildcard! ((OOC: See a prompt that isn't listed on here and wanna try it out? Or have some other reason for your muse to meet Ryotaro? Go ahead and toss up your own starter!))
[Why is there a slight creaking sound coming from above?
That would be none other than Rosen deliberately swinging his cage from side to side. This white-haired menace suffered the same fate as the other inmates who awoke within these cells. There is no rhyme or reason for how this happened, but Rosen has been locked behind iron bars before.
Nonetheless, unlike his peers, he is not yelling for help or requesting any type of assistance. No, he's trying to swing his cell as close to the others as possible in this bizarre game of chicken.
He shifts his weight to propel his suspended prison cell closer and closer to his unfortunate prison mate, grinning like a madman as he gets a little closer with each attempt. He believes this is just another bizarre nightmare and he treats it as such.
It hasn't dawned on him yet that this is indeed reality.]
The Pumpkin Heist - (Pumpkin Pick-up).
['Attempt to pickpocket someone without them noticing.'
So, this should be easy. Rosen wasn't sure what to expect when he picked up the pumpkin. He was expecting something more gauche and tacky, similar to a truth or dare scenario. Not that pickpocketing someone isn't already considered gauche. Thievery of any kind is regarded as a spineless offense, especially when it involves stealing from vulnerable victims.
This is why Rosen decides to make things a little more exciting by stealing from those he considers strong and capable. He doesn't care if he steals from a shrew-eyed woman or an obvious tall bruiser. Rosen will put his best foot forward and attempt to steal whatever is on their person. Unfortunately, this means that he has selected "you" as his unfortunate victim.]
Lost are we?
[He introduces himself with a smile.]
A Costume Change.
[Costumes. Rosen has never been a fan of wearing costumes, but this diverse collection of spooky attire piques his interest. While you can never go wrong with a classic witch costume complete with a black dress and a pointy black hat, or something like a sheer white sheet to parade around as a ghost, Rosen prefers something different for Halloween. While he could get away with something spooky, he appears to prefer something a little more fashionable than a witch hat and a mask. This is probably the only time he could get away with dressing up, so he’ll take it.
However, he did not expect the workers nearby to pounce on him the moment he begins browsing through the racks. Within seconds, Rosen is overwhelmed by three tent workers holding up a variety of costumes and accessories in the hopes of dressing him up for the night. It is enough to cause the poor man to slowly back away in fear.]
N-Now just wait a minute! That costume barely has any fabric on it!
[What the hell are you trying to get him into?! Rosen is not a prude, but is this intended to be a joke? While he believes he would look good in that sexy little number, Rosen does not want to parade around in something so scandalous.
Unfortunately, the tent workers do not give a damn. Help?]
Witch Hunt.
[Rosenkrantz stands 6'5 with an athletic build and ridiculously long white hair, making him stand out in a crowd. However, the decorative, wide-brimmed witch hat on his head, adorned with red butterflies, makes him even more visible. He welcomes all challengers who try to steal his witch hat. After all, this is a "witch hunt," correct? However, as the old saying goes, it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt.
Unfortunately, Rosen intends to break as many bones as possible to keep his prize. If you do not want to be crippled, proceed with caution. While he may not be as powerful as he is in the Dreamscape, this tall bruiser is still a threat.
Idly cracking his knuckles, Rosen turns and smiles once he spots the competition.]
Think you got what it takes to steal this hat?
[He teases.]
Wildcard.
(Hi, I'm new and I have no idea what I'm doing. Yay! Please send help or join in with the fun! Feel free to shoot me a DM if you want to plot something out. c. info & permissions:here. I’m also totally okay with Rosen losing & taking damage, especially since he’s not the most powerful guy here. I’m also okay with postive & negative cr)
[Morph already had a costume on, so they weren't being bothered by the carnival workers about being dressed for the occasion... but they had been passing by when they heard the commotion going on inside the tent, and couldn't resist poking their head in to see what was going on.
Their appearance might be a little bizarre, considering the paper-white skin and blank eyes, but Morph is leaning into their appearance with a pulp astronaut costume. It consists of a silver jumpsuit and a clear fishbowl helmet, along with a red plastic raygun in a holster on one hip, just to complete the retro vibe. There's a pair of antennae stuck on the top of the helmet, too, just to make it clear that they're supposed to be a space alien.
Morph slips into the tent and stands there for a moment, then puts their hands on their hips and says,] You oughta just go with it. Dressing sexy for Halloween is a time-honored tradition!
[Sorry, after getting a good look at Rosen, the choice to not interfere was an easy one to make.]
[ the man is awfully calm for one who awakes to find himself in a cage. he's in no hurry to escape, even though his size and build indicate that he would be able to pry his way out, even without futzing with the latch.
instead, soulless blue eyes scan his surroundings. the cage is bolted to a tree just a few feet off the ground, in sight of some sort of festival. the crispness in the air indicates autumn, and the sounds of far-off laughter would stir anyone with a normal heart.
zenos does not have a normal heart. it only slumbers at such peaceful surroundings. and yet— ]
"You there."
[ a poor passerby gets his curiosity directed at them, greeted by a smile that screams "danger". ]
"Do you know who did this to me?"
[ someone was able to subdue and cage him, and that thought makes the blood pump through his veins more vigorously. he would very much like to meet them. ]
ii — eye on the prize.
[ it's an awfully funny sight. an intimidating man in black, easily seven feet tall, stooped down and looking at the booth quite intently without a word. a competitive game where you compete to see who can pop more balloons with a fake firearm. so commonplace in most universes that it's downright boring, and yet the man is studying it like a piece of fine art.
the employee looks appropriately terrified, of course. the blonde looks not quite emotional enough for his expression to be dejected— bored, more than anything.
the game absolutely requires two players— so says the sign on the booth— and he is only one man. but among the prizes is a sword that shimmers in the sunlight that peeks occasionally through the clouds.
of course, he could simply take it and leave— who would fight him if he did?— but he's in a good mood, for the moment. if only someone would ask to compete with him... ]
iii — witch hunt.
[ the whole game is a bit tacky. it lacks decorum. a proper goal. "win a prize" is far too vague to be compelling, and the demand for fairness and giving in to any who catch you makes things so very pleasant.
if only it were a proper hunt. one where he would have to pry his catch from one's hands, and feel actual adrenaline breathe life into him; one where the strongest would win, rather than the one with the most opportune timing.
still, a hunt is a hunt, and he can't help but crave some sport in this world. there is a rival-shaped hole in his heart.
so, sorry to the holder of the hat that crosses into his field of view— the man is lunging at you on sight. ]
iv — wildcard.
(hello there! totally new to the dreamwidth format and still figuring a lot of stuff out, so please be gentle with me. I'm down to try pretty much anything though! feel free to toss a starter at me if you have an idea or hit me up for plotting. excited to try this out with everyone!)
[Fandaniel is walking through Aldrip with no real destination in mind, thinking dark thoughts.
Souls here can be lost, he thinks. If the corruption in the AI's data returns, they may all lose their souls and become fully one with this wretched simulation.
....A decent Ascian would destroy the simulation before that could happen, he thinks. Yes, that's--
A voice calls to him from nearby... An achingly familiar voice.
Fandaniel looks up and sees a face peering in his direction through the branches of a tree. For a moment, he weighs his choices, then decides being foolishly reckless is more fun.
He steps forward, fully revealing himself, and smiles up at the face of Zenos viator Galvus.]
My liege!
I must admit, I am surprised that our keeper managed to ensnare a man of your formidable strength.
Do you require assistance getting out of that cage?
[Wow excuse the fuck out of her, walking through a magical mirror portal into a cage wasn't on her list of things to happen, and far away from the list of things she'd ever want to experience.
She considers using magic to just blast the door open, but that might come back on her in a weird way. The cage's openings are slightly too small for her bird form, and just a bit too high for her to jump from comfortably in a cat form. She sniffs in disdain and squints to find anyone wandering by.]
You there! Are you good at catching things?
[Normal thing to ask]
B. Pumpkin Pick-Up
[She frowns at the little pumpkin, sighing with a barely disguised exasperation. Tell someone about the scariest moment you’ve ever had, is written there, mockingly. She's tried to lie to just get the prize, and argued a bit too long as the booth owner called her bluff before she huffs away.
Morrigan hardly wants to even bother, but now it's the principle of the thing. She can't lose. So she grabs a random person by the arm or shoulder and frowns at them before deadpanning]
My scariest moment was my son running away into the clutches of my mother, for I didn't know if she would kill him or worse.
[She then looks at the pumpkin, turning it around in her hands before complaining:] How am I supposed to know if it worked? This blasted, useless thing...
C. Witch Hunt
[SO there you are with a witch hat, minding your business, doing whatever, when a crow flutters to land near-by. It might ignore you for a bit, but eventually seems to take interest in something--a shiny bauble on your person, some food, whatever.
It inches closer until it can hop up on your lap--or your shoulder, or another part of your body to either eat or examine things closer.
...And then it takes your hat and flies away, up to a tree branch where it transforms into a woman who sits on the branch and laughs as she plops the hat on her head]
Vincent was prepared to just leap up and investigate the cage in order to see if he could just carry her down, but if she has something else in mind, so be it. After encountering one cage, Vincent had set out to find others and see what he could do to free the new arrivals.
🔥 COULD YOU GIVE ME DESIRE? — ❝ So I would have fire? ❞ IF EVERYTHING DIES — ❝ Oh, why can't you love me? ❞ • cw: arson, schizophrenia, hallucination
A. — PRIVATED TO WHOEVER COMMENTS TO THIS FIRST.
[ throughout the day of the carnival, jinx's been roaming around in her "costume", or more like she's been wearing this dastardly thing ever since it was gifted to her on her birthday. and during the day, she's been tossing little and harmless fireworks at people's feet before scurrying off to her next victim. trick or treat, she learned about that last year, and runeterra had a holiday a little similar to this. not so much to the treat part, but the trick? there was a holiday in piltover where children play practical jokes on the adults until a certain timeframe. it's to allow the kids to get all of their antics out of their systems without any consequences when, all year long, they need to behave civil and appropriate. jinx had always been envious of the children of topside, because why did they get to have a celebration where they can do so much monkey business, but the zaunite children can't? it wasn't fair, but when was life back home ever fair? ]
[ but as the day progressed into nightfall, her bouncy energy dies, and she begins to slug herself around the carnival, her outfit entirely unzipped to expose the top half of her with a vacant expression on her face. it's such a jarring contrast in behavior, but if anyone knows the girl at all, this... isn't uncommon. the bluenette halts in her aimless stroll in front of a tent, which is filled with a few locals inside selling trinkets, and goodie bags to others. they all seem so happy, the smiles on their faces seem so real despite being a part of the system.
...
the teenager steps silently behind the said tent from wandering eyes, her slender fingers disappearing in her suit to her back pockets. what she pulls out is a set of matches, and without any hesitation on her part, she lights it almost too confidently before letting the stick dives to her boots. as the fire gradually paths its way to it's target, jinx side-steps indifferently, then back around to the front of the camp to quietly observe. there's something beautiful about watching the oblivious, and then have their glow drain from their faces — their eyes widen with pure fear, and the frantic movements and panic screams as they try to think logically through a disaster. ]
[ and as the locals sprint out from the burning tent, shoulder crashing into her to make jinx stumble back slightly, the bluenette remains standing there alone. her and this scorching tepee. she isn't smiling, but there's a joy blooming behind her rib cage as she watches the weaves, materials, and the like, altering into ash components of itself.
'What is stopping you from having someone in your life who wants to be there for you?' ]
... Huh?
[ she blinks quickly, searching all around to find the source of that haunting familiar voice, but she sees no one. no one except the locals scrambling hysterically to get away from the steady wildfire, and warn others to stay back.
'I just...want to make sure you are alright after everything that happened. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more to help you, but this isn't like you to be so quiet.'
her heart is racing, and the lump in her throat is thickening a little too much. and just when jinx was about to give up searching, ... there. she sees it. a green bug glides smoothly into her vision, and her face softens in disbelief. ]
Wha? What are you doing here? — I-It's fall season. You're supposed to be getting ready to hibernate. Unless... [ ... ] Ekko?
[ in reality, it's not ekko nor the bug is actually there, but she is completely convinced that the only explanation she is even seeing this insect in this weather, and out of the forest is because he, somehow, got altered into his actual form. glitches were a thing, so... this could be possible, right? the "bug" says nothing, except flutters closer and closer to the blazing tent, and for a moment, jinx does nothing but watch. ]
Where are you going? Hey... HEY! — Ekko, hold up! I'll go with you, let me help!
[ and then she launches herself forward while clumsily shredding the costume off of her figure, then follows after her "guide" inside the burning tepee.
...
someone should stop her before she kills herself. ]
B. — OPEN TO EVERYONE ELSE
[ well, that almost could have been a real disaster, huh? if it hadn't for [CHARACTER] yanking jinx away from the fire, and allow other people to contain the fire, this whole carnival would have been destroyed. as if the chosen need all the more reason for the locals to hate them all.
maybe [YOUR CHARACTER] was one of the people who helped control the fire, or maybe [YOUR CHARACTER] watched it all go down. regardless your role, jinx is now sitting at a table with a cup of water in her hand. will you go over to her to ask if she's okay? scold her for starting that fire? bodyslam her? here is your shot. ]
[It isn't hard to identify the reason for the fire. Clear as day, he'd seen her pull out matches and slip behind the tent, then come back out to stand and look at the tent, while the fire slowly engulfs it from behind. Rushing forward out of the gawking crowd, he helps make sure that the people inside get out safely, but his mind is always divided between that and wondering what the hell Jinx did that for. These people didn't do anything to harm her, did they?
Once everyone's out and safe (because his Quirk won't do shit for a fire), he stomps his way over toward her, where she's still standing watching. She makes everything hard for him, just like Izuku did. Still does, sometimes. Though it's for different reasons - Izuku is soft and doesn't take care of himself, Jinx is constantly toeing the line between villainy and tragedy and it pisses him off that she's like this. Because he can't help but like her. She's charismatic, she's abrasive, she's got this weird vulnerability.
And he's about to address that abrasive, charismatic side, about to call her out for starting the fire, for doing it for no reason, for making him question why he liked her again, when she starts wandering after something that isn't there. She doesn't notice him standing there while she talks to someone - herself? someone he can't see? - and then starts wandering toward the fire. Into the fire, into the burning tent.]
What the-
Jinx!
[Calling her name a few times, he jogs after her, but she doesn't pay attention to him, transfixed on something he can't see, completely disregarding the danger she's putting herself in, like a little idiot. Something in his chest twinges, and he reaches out, grabbing at her upper arm and yanking her back.
She's not going to take kindly to that, he knows it, but he stands his ground because he can take a beating and it's probably the only way to snap her out of whatever she's doing.]
[ ( a. ) the cage is — hm, how to put it? incidental, secondary when compared to everything else: the city that sprawls around him, the trees that sway in time with the gusts of wind, the neat rows of buildings lining the streets... the fact that viktor is temporarily impersonating a bird in a cage? that doesn't really matter. and so those walking past this particular house, with a cage hanging over its door, may see a man so slim he looks more unhealthy than anything, a crutch lying across his legs and sticking out of the cage. he seems unbothered by his situation, instead observing the goings-on with sharp eyes.
( b. ) eventually, though, the observations he can make from inside the cage run out; and while opening the lock itself isn't particularly difficult, and the distance from the ground isn't even all that much... it's a jump a normal person could make, sure, but viktor, with one leg distinctly non-functional, considers the drop with a half-wry, half-tired look and resigns himself to having to ask for help.
he doesn't have to like it, though — and it's with a smarting pride and no small amount of awkwardness that he calls out, ]
Excuse me? [ oh no, he already hates this, can he just sit here forever instead... maybe he can make the jump. it's not like his leg can get any worse, can it — but no, he's already got the attention of this unfortunate passerby, who is now also witness to him just falling silent for no reason after catching their attention, which is also horrible. this is why he doesn't talk to people. and so he tries again, with a self-deprecating chuckle and a wave of his hand, ] I do apologise, but I've found myself in spot of trouble.
𝓶𝓲𝓻𝓻𝓸𝓻 𝓶𝓲𝓻𝓻𝓸𝓻 —
[ he only goes in because of what he overhears. "the mirrors show things," someone says, shaking, and viktor stands off to the side, blending into the shadows as he listens in on the conversation. it is... fantastical, the things he hears, and yet those who come out have either all experienced some sort of mass hallucination, or what they are describing is actually real —
and there's only one way to find out. viktor moves slowly, carefully, brows furrowed as his own reflection turns to a different direction, smiles at him, lets his crutch clatter onto the ground despite it still being very much, very firmly under his arm and keeping him upright. ] I see, [ he mutters, because clearly there is some truth to it all... unless he is also hallucinating. was there something in the air? a chem of sorts, blending in with the oxygen?
that is what he is puzzling over when the mirrors around him suddenly stop showing him altogether and start showing something completely different: a mixture of purple and blue, runes swirling all over, from one mirror surface onto another, the glow making viktor's already gaunt face look even more sickly, especially with the way his eyes widen into a look of distinct horror. ]
No, this — [ he turns his head, and yet there is no escaping the hexcore as it expands around him, glowing and pulsing with energy and magic and life.
viktor closes his eyes. ] No. There is something in the air. This is not real.
𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪 𝓱𝓾𝓷𝓽 —
[ the last thing he is expecting, later on into the evening, is for a hat to fly out of nowhere and land squarely on his head. he makes a surprised yelp as his world goes dark for a moment before he grabs the offending object and pulls it off, and oh, right. the hunt thing.
well, this is unfortunate.
whether you were the one to throw it, or you are one to try and catch it, viktor simply holds it out in his hand as he leans onto his crutch. ]
I take it you are here for this? Please, go ahead. [ his tone is wry as he adds, ] I am hardly equipped to participate in this game.
𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓭 —
[ anything else you're hankering for? feel free to throw whatever at me! ]
[ maybe viktor is just strolling along, and is in the middle of trying to grasp what's happening in his life. a typical thing to go through when one is a newbie, that's not her problem. well, it should, if she is going to rule aldrip in the future, and in order to make a good impression is to help them.
but she's taking a break from that, and besides, her INX are on the mission of doing the same thing. so in her outfit, she is sitting at a long counter with a mix of other chosen and locals where they all seem to be dining. jinx has her own dish in front of her, but she seems to be more preoccupied with playing with a certain crystal with her shark finned hand. the gemstone glistens vibrantly its magic as the girl rolls it along her drinking cup, not at all being delicate. ]
[Fauna's not dressing up- Why would she need to? People seem content to assume her fox ears are part of a costume, and leave her alone. So she's just investigating around... Spotting the pumpkin booth, it seems easy enough. So she picks one up, looks at the challenge... and slams it back down.]
Hell no.
ii. funhouse
[Fauna's mood only seems to be getting worse as the month goes on. She's already prickly at the best of times, but now she's even more irritable and snappish than ever. She needs a place to cool off, a place to be alone... so she tries the funhouse.
And there, her reflection shows too much. A boy with scruffy, black hair is found by a glowing goddess. The boy transforms- The fox-armored figure people have seen Fauna turn into. The figure hands out strange seeds, and people transform into monsters, and the armored figure soon fights those monsters. The boy then is consumed by fire, turning into Fauna.
"You still want to destroy it all." The voice haunts her. "You haven't changed. You're just so desperate that someone might love you that you're faking-"]
Shut up!
[... Fauna punches the glass, her fist transformed into gray armor. She turns to glare at anyone else around, to see if they saw.]
iii. witch hunt
[By the time of the witch hunt, the reason for Fauna's anger becomes apparent- She seems to just be radiating heat. The effects of her sentencing are burning her up. Even if it's cold out, she just gives off clouds of steam, and it does nothing to help her.
Someone tries to direct her to the witch hunt. She grabs a hat... and leaves a scorch mark on it from her hand.]
Tch...
[She's trying to leave, but it's crowded. She's going to just try to force her way through the crowd, but be careful- If she touches you, you might get burned.]
[How curious and amusing. Whether she minds or not, he draws closer, intent on figuring out what the fuss is all about. Aren't these things supposed to be "fun", anyway? Even he's starting not to think TOO much about his costume.]
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expiationlogs2024-10-14 08:59 am
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