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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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
2: pika pika
Or at least they know enough to let people win often enough that other people see you walking around with a... what is that, a chinpokomon?
^_^
[Don't worry, Kyle, she's equally confused by the aforementioned prize. She shrugs her shoulders and offers up the Pikachu knockoff for examination.]
Chinpokomon? Can't say I've ever heard of that, but maybe this is one of them? Here, take a look and let me know what you think.
no subject
[He studies the little yellow abomination, then shakes his head.]
Nope. Close, but not quite. They were popular toys back when I was a little kid. You were supposed to collect them all.
no subject
[She's careful to tuck the noisy little mouse under one arm, avoiding the dreaded sound button embedded in its belly.]
That's the gimmick to get everyone to spend money. Collect them all? Here's another 100 to go after. But now I'm curious, what were Chinpokomon like?
no subject
That's exactly it! It was pretty genius. And they kept changing the format, like they made a cartoon so you'd want the toys? And then the card game, and then the video game, and so on and so forth. Brilliant marketing really.
They were these little cutsey monsters. It was a Japanese thing. I dunno, I was into the craze and now I couldn't even really tell you why. I am pretty sure I nearly bombed Pearl Harbour over it, though.
no subject
[That comment gets a small chuckle out of her.]
I know, right? Let's not even get started with beanie babies. The CEO was a genius to create a false scarcity with those stupid little beanbag toys, manipulating supply and demand like a pro.
[She gestures for Kyle to follow her to the nearest booth, wanting in on the drink and snack action while they chat.]
That's kind of demented, in a way.
no subject
People STILL think they're worth money and have fucking like... storage containers full of em.
[He ambles along, happy for the company.]
Hm? Yeah, yeah, I guess it was. I'm starting to think my upbringing was a little demented in general.
no subject
It’s simply stupid watching how those trends play out. The ’90s were weird, with more people having disposable incomes, just to turn around and spend it all on dumb stuff.
[Speaking of buying things, she stops off at a drink stand for some water and whatever sugary treat is available. This time it’s chocolate-covered donut holes. If Kyle wants something, she’ll happily get it for him.]
We’ve definitely all been there. I’m not a trained therapist, but I’m here if you ever want to talk about something in particular.
no subject
[Kyle gets a diet coke. He craves the caffeine.]
You're sweet. But, nah, I'm good. My family was cool, I just got into a lot of shenanigans.
no subject
[Because despite how 'happy' those memories sound, there's a hint of sarcasm in her voice.]
In your youth? Well, that's the prime time to get into trouble. Instead of lingering on the bad stuff, what's something good that happened during your childhood?
no subject
[He sips his coke.] Oh, lots of good stuff. Uhm, I used to get to go to Casa Bonita for my birthday, it was this ridiculous Mexican restaurant in Denver. And I had really good friends, we used to do everything together.
no subject
[She's about to take a sip of water, but Kyle's statement does catch her attention.] Casa Bonita? I heard of it once, but have never been inside. And it's good that you had friends by your side growing up.
Have any of your friends come here? To the island?
no subject
[He shakes his head.] Nope. But I've made a few, which is pretty rare for me, if I'm honest. They're all like, superheroes and crap? It's wild.
no subject
[Her guess is 21, but talking about age can be a sensitive thing. the topic of superheroes does get a frown out of her.]
So it's not just normal humans here. I've got to admit, this whole being plucked from home and dropped onto a whole new world is pretty surreal. Please tell me you've come up with some form of coping mechanisms.
no subject
You thought I was younger, didn't you?
Yeah, normal humans might actually be in the minority. [He shrugs.] I mean, mostly I just roll with it.
no subject
21 was my guess. But still, you're fresh out of college. Life is still young for people your age, unless it's the stress of law school that brought you here.
Heh. Only here a couple of hours and I'm already at a disadvantage to the superpowered. [She frowns.] So far things don't seem dangerous, so maybe I won't be asked to fight some omnipotent being.
no subject
[Kyle doesn't think of himself as a liar, but he is.]
God, I hope not. I've nearly died a bunch of times.
no subject
[She nearly drops her drink in shock.]
What? How? This place seems rather tame. [Of course, she's assuming that his experiences are tracked back to the island.]
no subject
God, I hope so, but... ...okay, this one island was like a 1920s city. There were zombies on a beach, and gangsters and my stupid friend Wade gave a monkey a tommy gun... Anyway. The last island was a flower one with huge praying mantises and poison plants and killer hallucinations.
no subject
[She's blushing just a bit because it's been quite a few years since someone has said such nice things to her. Running one hand along her hair, stopping at the tightly packed bun, a constant symbol of her age.]
So there's no discernable trend in how the islands behave, as anything typically goes? Has anyone been actually known to die while here?
[She glances at her drink carefully.]
So if monkeys have guns and dangerous plants exist...Kind of makes you wonder what this island has in place. Murderous clowns? Sentient evil carousel horses? Or maybe food poisoning?
no subject
The only thing I've noticed is that the first month on the island tends to suck a little more. But I've nearly died when it was 'safer' soooo...
Probably all of them.
no subject
[And to that, she gives Kyle a stern glance before poking his shoulder gently.]
No. Don't you dare agree to those suggestions. And you're not dying on my watch either.
no subject
He rubs the spot she's poked, looking chagrinned.]
Okay, okay. Sorry. I won't die. ...especially if I'm not around Wade. Have you met Wade? He wears like, red spandex, he's hard to miss.
no subject
[She nods, then offers him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Really, she didn't mean to come off as hard, but seeing people younger than her going through shit is troubling.]
Good. I'm going to hold you to that promise. Now tell me more about the red spandex-wearing friend of yours. I've surprisingly missed his presence while on the island.
no subject
[Kyle laughs.] Yeah, I'm shocked, too. Well. He's completely insane. Like, for real, I'm not exaggerating. Uhh his face is all fucked up so he always wears a mask. He's nice, though? In a weird way? Like sure he's nearly gotten me killed, but he DID save me from the zombies... Oh. He can't die. Like he was just a fucking head for a while.
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