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âś– THE CARNIVAL
â… . ARRIVAL & THE TEMPLE
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
You can see the lights of the Ferris wheel from the water, and by the time you pull into port you can smell popcorn, cotton candy, grease, sawdust. Music drifts on the air, interspersed with screams from the rides.
The carnival is in town.
Not just any carnival, either - the carnival. The one to end all others. Every circus you ever read about or saw in a movie, with striped tents filled with acrobats and sideshows, midway games complete with carnival barkers in straw boater hats. But it's also every shitty fair that ever rolled through your hometown, with unreliable looking men with greasy mullets smoking as they jockey the Wild Mouse, the Gravitron, the Zipper, the Corkscrew. There's a constant stream of 80s hair metal playing underneath the roar of the rollercoaster tracks, blending somehow with the traditional piping organ of the carousel.
Experienced Travelers will know by now that every island has its own temple, and this one is no exception. It’s not in the carnival proper, though; if you step away from the lights of the midway and tents, you’ll notice dozens of old wooden circus trailers, arranged in a circle, growing tighter together the closer to the center you walk. The trailers are functional living places, with built in beds - sometimes one, sometimes two - and a small table and an old wood burning stove with a cooking top just big enough to boil a kettle on. There’s a toilet, but if you want a shower you’ll have to go outside and find a tent set up at the outskirts of the makeshift trailer park where there are tent showers set up, locker room style.
The clearing in the middle of the parked caravan is completely empty except for a solitary midway game: a towering high striker. It must be at least twenty feet tall, surmounted by a round, red bell. A wooden mallet is leaned against a sign next to the game that reads, predictably, TEST YOUR STRENGTH.
Step right up.
â…ˇ. HALL OF MIRRORS
When it comes to amusements, the Hall of Mirrors has always been second-fiddle to the Haunted House. But the line for the former was shorter, so here you are. The guy working the door has weasel eyes and is smoking. He gestures for you and whoever is behind you to enter together; "No singles. For safety."
The lights are a dull neon, cycling from deep blue to cyan to purple and back again. You find that your outstretched fingers will bump against smooth, clear glass as often as not. The mirrors reflect the maze back into itself over and over, disorienting and strange.
Some of the mirrors are convex, some concave, and as you pass them your reflection warps and bends alongside that of whoever you're stuck inside the maze with.
At some point you will realise that the reflection looking back at you isn't quite right. It's still you, sure, but it's not how you really look, not on the outside.
Looking back at you from the cold glass is how you perceive yourself. Perhaps that's stronger, perhaps uglier, perhaps as a sniveling child or an ancient hag. And this reflection is going to follow you from mirror to mirror as you desperately try to find your way out.
One of you spots an exit sign, bleeding red light. Only catch is that it's behind a pane of glass. And another. And another. You could break your way through all of them, certainly, but it's not as if there's anything laying around for you to use to do so. Just yourself, which might work in action movies but tends to cause a lot of physical damage in the real world.
Above the glass someone has placed a sticker that reads, “who are you really?” in black sharpie. Answer it, and the glass will swing open. Don't, and well...
Guess you'll have several years worth of bad luck.
â…˘. THE CAROUSEL
CW: childhood trauma
Old fashioned organ music and a million flashing lights draws you to the carousel. It's a vintage delight: huge, with ornate animals carved out of wood and lovingly hand painted. There are horses, of course, but also lions and leopards and birds and rabbits and wolves... any animal you could want! In fact, you'll see an animal that looks perfectly YOU. You just have to climb up on it for a ride.

Settled on your mount, the ride begins to move. To your surprise, it begins to move backwards. You can't seem to ungrip the pole you're hanging on to, so you're helpless to escape as the ride spins again and again.
When it stops and you step off, you will be younger. You will in fact be the same age you were when a formative event happened to you.
You're a kid at a carnival! How fun! Well, maybe you're not that young, and it's probably not very fun at all considering that now your trauma is fresh.
The only way to become your proper age again is to get on the carousel and get it to run forward. Depending on your age, you might not be able to figure any of that out, but surely one of the other Travelers can help you. You'll definitely need someone to man the carousel controls. Oh, and be careful not to knock it into overdrive...
â…Ł. COULROPHOBIA
CW: clowns, suffocation
Who can possibly resist the big top? Not you! You're ushered into the tent and you take a seat in the stands, where you have an excellent view of the huge ring before you. The excitement in the air is palpable, and even if you're the grouchy type you'll find yourself a little bit thrilled.
It's a little surprising when the lights go up to the sound of screaming guitars. Mist belches from hidden foggers, and flames shoot from near the center of the ring. The lights stutter red, blue, green. The whole thing is a lot more rock show than it is Ringling Brother's.
At any rate, even if the ringmaster looks like a reject from a trailer park metal band and the music is liable to burst some eardrums, it's still a circus. There are trained horses and riders, contortionists, and a score of talented trapeze artists. It's all sparkling and impressive and terrific fun.
The trapeze artists take their bows, clearly ready for a break. And if a break is needed at the circus? You know what happens next, don't you?
SEND IN THE CLOWNS!
The clowns spill into the ring, all sorts of them! There's Harlequin and Pierrot, Auguste and Tramp. There's Bozos and Ronalds and Clarabelles and Krustys. Hopefully no Gacys, but there's so many of them that it's hard to know for sure.
One of these clowns - the one you hate the most, of course - approaches you in the stands. With comically exaggerated movements, it leans close to you and whispers...
Well. It whispers horrible things to you, really. It recounts to you some instance in your life where you delighted in the suffering of another, a moment where you really and truly were happy that somebody else was hurt. It's not a moment to be proud of, for sure, but as the clown tells your own secret shameful joy to you, you start to laugh. Really laugh - soon you're bent over double, tears running down your face, absolutely howling with laughter.
Your stomach hurts, and you're running out of breath. Very soon you won't be able to breathe at all.
Eventually, one of your fellow travelers won't be able to resist asking you, "What's so funny?"
The only way to stop laughing is to tell them. Otherwise you're going to pass out right where you sit, a creepy clown leering over you the whole time. Maybe your fellow traveler will be nice enough to drag you out of there if that happens, because if you're left alone? Everybody knows clowns get so much scarier alone in the dark.
It wouldn't be a party without some jams.
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
You can see the lights of the Ferris wheel from the water, and by the time you pull into port you can smell popcorn, cotton candy, grease, sawdust. Music drifts on the air, interspersed with screams from the rides.
The carnival is in town.

Experienced Travelers will know by now that every island has its own temple, and this one is no exception. It’s not in the carnival proper, though; if you step away from the lights of the midway and tents, you’ll notice dozens of old wooden circus trailers, arranged in a circle, growing tighter together the closer to the center you walk. The trailers are functional living places, with built in beds - sometimes one, sometimes two - and a small table and an old wood burning stove with a cooking top just big enough to boil a kettle on. There’s a toilet, but if you want a shower you’ll have to go outside and find a tent set up at the outskirts of the makeshift trailer park where there are tent showers set up, locker room style.
The clearing in the middle of the parked caravan is completely empty except for a solitary midway game: a towering high striker. It must be at least twenty feet tall, surmounted by a round, red bell. A wooden mallet is leaned against a sign next to the game that reads, predictably, TEST YOUR STRENGTH.
Step right up.
Notes:
1. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.
2. These prompts are a jumping off point - how they affect your character and their development is up to you.
3. The island temple is accessible to all. The High Temple is only accessible to new characters this month - it will re-open to all others next month.
4. The Test your Strength game can be played by anyone. How well your character does is entirely up to you, but the game does not necessarily measure physical strength.
5. These residents of the island are normal humans. Killing them is possible and will affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation.
6. Any food found on the midway is safe to eat, and is consumable by non-human entities.
7. Have fun!
â…ˇ. HALL OF MIRRORS
When it comes to amusements, the Hall of Mirrors has always been second-fiddle to the Haunted House. But the line for the former was shorter, so here you are. The guy working the door has weasel eyes and is smoking. He gestures for you and whoever is behind you to enter together; "No singles. For safety."
The lights are a dull neon, cycling from deep blue to cyan to purple and back again. You find that your outstretched fingers will bump against smooth, clear glass as often as not. The mirrors reflect the maze back into itself over and over, disorienting and strange.

At some point you will realise that the reflection looking back at you isn't quite right. It's still you, sure, but it's not how you really look, not on the outside.
Looking back at you from the cold glass is how you perceive yourself. Perhaps that's stronger, perhaps uglier, perhaps as a sniveling child or an ancient hag. And this reflection is going to follow you from mirror to mirror as you desperately try to find your way out.
One of you spots an exit sign, bleeding red light. Only catch is that it's behind a pane of glass. And another. And another. You could break your way through all of them, certainly, but it's not as if there's anything laying around for you to use to do so. Just yourself, which might work in action movies but tends to cause a lot of physical damage in the real world.
Above the glass someone has placed a sticker that reads, “who are you really?” in black sharpie. Answer it, and the glass will swing open. Don't, and well...
Guess you'll have several years worth of bad luck.
Notes:
1. Yes, characters can bash their way out of the maze, but it is real glass and will cut anyone who isn’t invulnerable. There is a first aid station run by extremely unreliable carneys on the premises, so hopefully they can patch themselves up enough there.
â…˘. THE CAROUSEL
CW: childhood trauma
Old fashioned organ music and a million flashing lights draws you to the carousel. It's a vintage delight: huge, with ornate animals carved out of wood and lovingly hand painted. There are horses, of course, but also lions and leopards and birds and rabbits and wolves... any animal you could want! In fact, you'll see an animal that looks perfectly YOU. You just have to climb up on it for a ride.

When it stops and you step off, you will be younger. You will in fact be the same age you were when a formative event happened to you.
You're a kid at a carnival! How fun! Well, maybe you're not that young, and it's probably not very fun at all considering that now your trauma is fresh.
The only way to become your proper age again is to get on the carousel and get it to run forward. Depending on your age, you might not be able to figure any of that out, but surely one of the other Travelers can help you. You'll definitely need someone to man the carousel controls. Oh, and be careful not to knock it into overdrive...
Notes:
1. If your character does not get back on the carousel and ride it in reverse, they will revert to their actual ages at the end of the month.
2. Please be especially mindful of content warnings with underage characters. A reminder that the game does not allow explicit sexual content with minors.
3. You do not have to regress your character to childhood - if a very formative event happened at age 20 for example, you can choose that route instead.
4. Speeding up the carousel while it is moving forward will result in, you guessed it, aging your character UP. Obviously you can ride it backwards again to fix this, or again the aging will be reversed at the end of the month.
â…Ł. COULROPHOBIA
CW: clowns, suffocation
Who can possibly resist the big top? Not you! You're ushered into the tent and you take a seat in the stands, where you have an excellent view of the huge ring before you. The excitement in the air is palpable, and even if you're the grouchy type you'll find yourself a little bit thrilled.
It's a little surprising when the lights go up to the sound of screaming guitars. Mist belches from hidden foggers, and flames shoot from near the center of the ring. The lights stutter red, blue, green. The whole thing is a lot more rock show than it is Ringling Brother's.
At any rate, even if the ringmaster looks like a reject from a trailer park metal band and the music is liable to burst some eardrums, it's still a circus. There are trained horses and riders, contortionists, and a score of talented trapeze artists. It's all sparkling and impressive and terrific fun.
The trapeze artists take their bows, clearly ready for a break. And if a break is needed at the circus? You know what happens next, don't you?
SEND IN THE CLOWNS!
The clowns spill into the ring, all sorts of them! There's Harlequin and Pierrot, Auguste and Tramp. There's Bozos and Ronalds and Clarabelles and Krustys. Hopefully no Gacys, but there's so many of them that it's hard to know for sure.

Well. It whispers horrible things to you, really. It recounts to you some instance in your life where you delighted in the suffering of another, a moment where you really and truly were happy that somebody else was hurt. It's not a moment to be proud of, for sure, but as the clown tells your own secret shameful joy to you, you start to laugh. Really laugh - soon you're bent over double, tears running down your face, absolutely howling with laughter.
Your stomach hurts, and you're running out of breath. Very soon you won't be able to breathe at all.
Eventually, one of your fellow travelers won't be able to resist asking you, "What's so funny?"
The only way to stop laughing is to tell them. Otherwise you're going to pass out right where you sit, a creepy clown leering over you the whole time. Maybe your fellow traveler will be nice enough to drag you out of there if that happens, because if you're left alone? Everybody knows clowns get so much scarier alone in the dark.
Notes:
1. What happens if you really do get ditched with the clowns? Great question. Maybe they make you one of them. Maybe they eat you. Maybe you just wake up in the Big Top dressing room and see all the clowns smoking cigars and taking their floppy shoes off to film Clown Foot Erotica.
anders | ota
ii. hall of mirrors [ cw: potential mention of claustrophobia & imprisonment/ isolation, body horror ]
iii. the carousel [ cw: childhood trauma relating to abandonment, imprisonment, fire ]
[ hmu @
i (a)
I don't think I could share in your kind of luck.
They really haven't noticed?
no subject
Take a look around. I don't think half of them are paying attention.
[ And besides, he's being careful. Well. As careful as a shameless showoff can be. He's not kept any of the interesting little baubles he's managed to win, nor tried to make much of an impression with the barkers (who do seem at least somewhat more invested in their games than the exhausted and disinterested attendants lingering around his favored booths). ]
And I was offering, besides. How else am I to keep my skills sharp?
no subject
But I've little interest in that either.
[If he could learn the trick, that'd be different.]
no subject
[ Clearly he's enjoying this glimpse of an actual sense of humor a little too much. ]
Too bad. I was getting a little bored of entertaining myself.
no subject
[His sense of humor often goes unnoticed, so he's... pleased.]
You're bored that quickly?
no subject
[ If Anders can attribute humor to a spirit of justice possessing a very stern looking corpse, he can certainly do so for Sephiroth. He may favor the presence of a laughing fool, himself, but dry humor is hardly ever lost on him.
He shrugs, taking a look around - the lights, the sounds, the incredible, impossible machines— ]
Not of this place, no. But I thought it might be more fun with some company.
[ He's just not very good at being alone. Perhaps that's why he was always getting caught, on his short forays outside the Circle walls. ]
no subject
If you're looking for company to amuse you, perhaps you really ought to win the carrot.
no subject
You're better company than a carrot. I'd feel safer, at the very least.
[ Just look at those eyes. So unsavory. ]
It's not like you've got anything better to do, anyway, is it?
no subject
Short of burning this entire place to the ground, no, I don't think I do.
[Anders also scores better company than a carrot, though he won't say it out loud.]
no subject
Anders doesn't really need the obvious stated, either. Of course he ranks higher than the stuffed approximation of a very untrustworthy vegetable. And of course they're going to have fun at the fair, whether Sephiroth thinks so or not. The only question is how. ]
Good. Better hold back on the burning, anyway. Something about this place just feels uncomfortably flammable, doesn't it?
[ When he looks too closely, that is. But Anders is a big picture sort of person. No reason to let that seedy inseam get him down. ]
So, if not the games, where are we off to, next? To try the food? Take in a show? Oh, or ride one of those terrifying machines?
no subject
[Which has made him less than enthusiastic about trying the food just yet, even if he is tired of eating flowers. Maybe he'll just go without for a bit.
He looks momentarily unsure, not expecting the choice to be left to him. Hell, what is he even doing? He didn't say so in as many words, but he did imply some participation... He seizes on "terrifying" as the least terrible option.]
...I might be willing to try a ride. But I won't hold your hand.
[One ride, then he can say he did it.]
no subject
[ Even his most simpering tone doesn't manage to mask his amusement. Or the obvious triumph in roping Sephiroth into his good time. ]
Well, fine. If you must be so cruel.
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i a
[ Chloe raises an eyebrow, clearly very skeptical, even if her mind doesn't immediately go to "he's using magic" as an explanation. ]
So what sort of luck do you deal in?
no subject
[ He sees that skepticism, but it only serves to encourage him. Showing off is something he's so rarely had the chance to do, outside the Circle - let alone in a place where magic isn't so stringently persecuted. ]
Choose your game. I'll be your good luck charm.
no subject
[ So, probably none of these. Though, she does eye one of the target practice games with a touch of longing. ]
no subject
[ Does anyone around here know how to enjoy themselves?? There are entirely too many too-serious types at the carnival, honestly.
Luckily, he spots that look, smiling slyly as he glances toward the target games, as well. ]
What if I guarantee it? Whatever game you pick, you'll be at least exceptional at it.
no subject
I don't need help to win. And I don't need to cheat, either.
[ Though, either way, he does seem to have convinced her to give one a shot. (Pun intended). She picks up an air rifle, testing its weight and aim.
Chloe is an excellent shot, at least when it comes to the slow-moving targets of the carnival game, and makes quick work of them all. ]
no subject
Fine, fine. I know where I'm not wanted.
[ Not really. He isn't exactly leaving, leaning on the booth and watching on as she knocks down all those targets. With a curl of his hand and a push of invisible magic, he props one back up - unnoticed by the barker hurriedly pulling down her prize. ]
Good aim, by the way.
no subject
[ She couldn't hurt Michael with her bullets, but hey, at least she can win a stuffed... it looks like a monkey of some sort. She offers it to him. ]
I'm Chloe, by the way.
no subject
[ He's picturing something like an archery range, but with these weird things instead. That's probably close, right?
He's not really sure what the little stuffed toy is supposed to be, either, but he graciously accepts, turning it in his hands as he tries to puzzle it out. (Some sort of horribly malformed dog, perhaps?) ]
Anders. Charmed, of course. Though, for the record, I don't think using magic technically counts as cheating, if no one says it's against the rules.
[ Said with amusement in his voice - of course, not even he believes that, really. But he also doesn't believe he's harming anyone by winning a few silly games his way. ]
no subject
When you say magic, are you talking about, say, sleight of hand? Or is this actual, literal, sparkles out of your fingertips, wave a wand sort of magic?
no subject
The latter. Though I only shoot sparkles out of my fingertips if I'm asked nicely.
no subject
no subject
As long as you're not a Templar. You have to tell me if you're a Templar.
[ Kidding, of course. With another glance to be certain the booth's attendant is once again distracted with the work of shouting potential players over, Anders calls a handful of dancing sparks to his palm, just a little less than a flame. ]
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