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✖ THE CARNIVAL

Ⅰ. 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.

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!

Ⅱ. 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.

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.

Ⅲ. 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...

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.

Ⅳ. 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.

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.

It wouldn't be a party without some jams.

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

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Yeah, he knows that dry tone. And it's energetic today. Well, more energetic. David flinches and looks toward it, about to tell Jean-Paul off for even assuming that, they both know he's difficult as fuck. Except...

Except Jean-Paul is checking him out.

Well, there's also the hair being way shorter, and the apparent lack of recognition in the other and... David takes a deep breath and tries not to be flattered (he fails). His arms cross over his chest to try and show he's not pleased with the compliment (he is) and he gives Jean-Paul the most bland look he can manage.

"Very funny, Jean-Paul. Do the showers have soap? I'm so fucking done with pollen. Don't act like you're not as well. And we both know you like a challenge."

Jean-Paul's impish grin doesn't fade. "I'm sorry," he says, one hand twirling lazily through the air. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but alas, I don't know yours. Unless we've met and I've forgotten, which I have a difficult time believing."

He gestures at the shower behind him. "Ouais, there is soap," he says, still looking at David appraisingly. "You wanna check?"

A disadvantage? David freezes and frowns. Jean-Paul doesn't remember him. He tries to push down the blush that comes from the active flirting. Truth be told, he rarely noticed when someone was hitting on him. But the way Jean-Paul did it made his heart skip a beat. Because it reminded him so much of Damian.

"You really have no clue who I am?" he asked rather than taking the prompting to look in Jean-Paul's shower. He definitely wasn't getting close enough to move in such a way as to see more than just Jean-Paul's face and shoulders.

That isn't a question he needs answered in person when he already knows it in theory.

Edited 2021-09-04 04:57 (UTC)

Jean-Paul is not a subtle personality.

"Non. Should I?" he asks, eyebrows lifting.

Yep. Something is wrong here. Very wrong. So he raises his own eyebrow right back.

"Something is wrong here. This isn't you as I know you. I'm David, by the way."

"David," jean-Paul repeats, rolling the taste of it around in his mouth.

"I'm not sure what you could possibly think is wrong. I love the circus. I worked in one, for a while."

"I'm well aware," David answered. This was all so very awkward. How did you explain to a guy that you knew his whole history because it was buried in your own mind?

But damn, he is very shocked over how nice his name sounds in Jean-Paul's accent when he man is contemplating it.

"Have you, uh, don't anything other than showering since getting to the island, JP?"

Because David really needs to know what caused this. Clearly it's going to need fixed.

Jean-Paul's eyes narrow a little. He didn't think his stint as an acrobat was well known.

"You are, hn?" His tone is definitely cooler than before, making him sound more like his older self.

"I don't really remember," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "I went on some rides." His eyes brighten a little. "They have a very large, very old carousel. It's beautiful."

Ah, that... That is probably the culprit if it left a mark. But it could be any other ride he supposed. But he was going to address that tone first.

"Yeah, I don't mean to know things about you, but... Well, we're from the same place, Jean-Paul. And I'm in a rare class of mutant telepath. So, uh, that's how I know. You're pretty good too."

Though now he's wondering if Kyle knows about those skills. How secretive was Jean-Paul about his past.

"I'm more than pretty good," is of course what Jen-Paul hones is on first. But then he looks even more suspicious than he did before, his mouth thinning until it looks like a poorly healed cut.

"I'll thank you not to go spreading what you think you know around."

Really? Suspicious. That has David frowning.

"I've never given out your secrets. That isn't what friends do. And you're and important friend of mine, JP. You... you know secrets about me that basically no one else does."

How does he even explain this? After a moment of hesitation he takes a step forward, hands open to show he has nothing but himself. Not that he could get the drop on Jean-Paul.

"We both know that, even if I did try, you'd kick my ass before I could finish opening my mouth. You are, after all, the fastest man in the world."

That narrow look of suspicion doesn't fade, even if Jean-Paul takes a second to check our David's chest. Nice.

"Of course I would," he says, not thawing. "Why should I believe we're friends when I don't know you? For all I know you're some other pathetic ploy of Hudson's, trying to get me to do what he wants."

Oh please don't be the hottest guy he knows giving him a once over again. And please ignore how it makes him blush. At least the name confirms JP is at least post skiing gold medal.

How was he supposed to prove himself, though?

"Jean-Paul, I'm a mutant, like you. I work with the X-Men. Hell, I'm not even Canadian, I'm from Chicago. And could you even imagine me in red and white? Hard pass."

This was impossible, and he muttered some annoyed Krakoan phrases. There was no truth he could offer. His powers really didn't do real secrets.

"The what men?" Jean-Paul asks, eyebrows arching up high. He shakes his head and snorts.

"Fine. You're a mutant. You realise I'm not ashamed of what I am, non? I just don't appreciate having people try to use it against me."

He glances back at his shower. "I'm going to finish bathing. Join me or don't - after, perhaps, we can find some coffee."

David grumbled under his breath, once again in Krakoan, about how he'd really like for all mutants (including the time manipulating ones) to stop fucking around with time. Or having time fuck around with them. Because Jean-Paul doesn't know what the X-Men are. Of course he do-

Nope. His brains goes full stop at the words join me or don't. He doesn't even get to dismiss the idea that Jean-Paul should ever be ashamed of anything he was because all his brain can focus on is join me or don't.

"J-join you?" he stammers out, well past flustered.

And then after a moment he's flushed with embarrassment as he gets it. Well clearly Jean-Paul doesn't mean join him join him. Duh. David HAD been commenting about getting the pollen off. Which he should really do. Okay. That's fine. He nods to himself and moves to find a bench to put his things down securely on before starting to remove his things into a neat piles. Maybe taking some extra time to fold things neatly. Maybe Jean-Paul will just, uh, leave before he's done?

"Showers, right," he mumbled to himself, "you came here for a fucking shower, David."

Jean-Paul, of course, lingered.

And wolf whistled.

"So you can be reasonable," he said before actually returning to his shower stall.

Oh come on Jean-Paul, give a guy a break. He's already embarrassed well before he gets to another shower stall to turn it on. Icy cold because why would he need anything else. He's just rinsing pollen off. No reason to waste the hot water someone else might use.

"So is this level of incorrigible flirtation a resting state for you, or is it something you learned in the Olympic Village?"

Because everyone knew those places were prone to rampant sexual encounters between athletes. And while David could know what someone else knew, that didn't mean he got the hows or whens of learning it, and it was rare to know the paths personalities developed through.

Jean-Paul laughs brightly. "Olympic Village," he admits. "Being surrounded by a bunch of gorgeous professional athletes will do things to a man."

"Yeah, that so can understand," David admitted. The X-Mansion had been like that. Krakoa too honestly. "You know, it's amazing. I've been around all these confident people, including you, since I manifested basically. And yet confidence is the one skill I never picked up. Not this kind."

Jean-Paul's perfect eyebrows go up. "That," he says with gravity, "is a pity. You look like you're good wit' your mouth."

Jean-Paul just said that. David's gaze snapped to Jean-Paul, his eyes wide in shock to hear that. It had been one thing to be flirted with in general. It was one thing to have Jean-Paul wolf whistle over his body given David had come to respect that he did look good. It was entirely something else when he was just that forward.

He stared for a moment, his brain rebooting to even hear that, his mouth perhaps a bit too open for the comment that was just made. Blue screen mind and then, nope, there it was, David coming back on line. Except sass subroutines were definitely quicker to come back than anything else.

"I've never gotten complaints."

Jean-Paul has never had any shame. But of course David, being younger, would never have had reason to know that - Jean-Paul was very much not in the habit of hitting on X-People in general, and former students especially. He was a professional, thank you veyr much.

Twenty-something Jean-Paul, on the other hand, lived like he might die tomorrow.

"As I suspected." Jean-Paul vanished back into his shower with a flourish. "If you get brave later, you should come by the caravan and show me."

Oh god. He just got propositioned by Jean-Paul. Which was hot as hell, and he had to admit got his blood pumping a little.

"A lot of my skills come from you, actually. I just supplemented them later. But I'm pretty worried that I'll get my ass kicked later if I say yes. Or at least shut out of a really good friendship I have."

Jean-Paul's head, now wet, pops back out.

"You have MY skills?" he asks, sounding doubtful. "Well. You ARE good, then." He looks at David with his frank and disconcerting gaze. "I don't know what to tell you," he says. "I don't know you. You seem to know me. I suppose you'd know how I would supposedly react."

With that he pops right back in.

"I don't know," David admits. Because... Because he doesn't know if the knowledge would keep up. "But like I said, I'm psychomimetric. I don't learn just knowledge. I learn skills. Well, provided my body can perform them."

He sighs and starts to scrub himself down, hoping to get the pollen off of himself. And man, it was nice to get the pollen off. He sighed in delight at feeling clean.

"The biggest problem, though, is you're a speedster. Even when I know people like you, I don't know how to predict you, not properly."

Which had always been a turn on for him and he knows it.

omg jp!

;)

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