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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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Chloe has been wandering the maze for some time as well, when she hears the thud and curse from nearby. Turning a corner, she spots - well, someone she knows.

"Oh, are you okay?" she asks, leaning down to help him up. "You can't let these things get to you. Don't want to add broken glass to the mix, anyway." She is pointedly ignoring her own reflection, which looks hollow, grief-stricken.

"Thanks," Kyle says, hand still clapped to his face. His watering eyes move from Chloe to the reflection stalking her.

"Holy shit, what's with that?" he asks. No tact. None at ALL. "That's not how you really look."

Chloe looks uncomfortable, but she’s willing to power through. She’s used to dealing with people who have no tact, after all.

“Your reflection is looking pretty off, too,” she points out. “Here, maybe we can find something to stop the bleeding…” What, she has no idea. But she’s a mom, she can figure something out.

"You think?" Kyle pulls up one of his sleeves to press against his nose. He just got these clothes, too. Sigh.

"I mean... it looks a little TOO close to reality. At least to me." He pauses and groans. "Oh, for... okay. Okay, I get it, ha-ha. This is a fucking personal perception maze. What we're seeing is how we see ourselves or something."

He looks at Chloe's reflection. "Jesus. Why do you look so awful?"

Oof. Well, that's certainly a blunt question. Finally, she just grips the bottom of her t-shirt and forcibly rips a strip from it, offering it to him. "This is the best I've got."

She glances at her reflection and sighs, shaking her head a little. "I lost someone recently," she admits. "It's been hard. Now, maybe between the two of us, we can find a way out of here."

"Thanks." He feels bad she's ripped her shirt, but it's admittedly a lot better than his sleeve.

Kyle's brows knit together at once. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry," he says. At her suggestion he nods and starts moving again, this time slowly with one hand outstretched. When it bumps off of clear glass he course corrects.

"Who did you lose?"

Edited 2021-09-15 02:34 (UTC)

She's quiet for a bit, using the excuse that she's trying to help navigate the maze - find the exit, not get turned around or accidentally wind up retracing their steps. But it's impossible to ignore her reflection, staring back at her from every angle.

"My ex-husband," she finally says, quietly.

"Ah, shit," Kyle says, wincing. "I'm sorry. I, uh. Guess that was before the whole... 'my boyfriend is Satan' thing."

He turns a corner and both of their grotesque reflections leer at at them. Kyle scowls and turns to the right, lips thinning.

"Mm." She looks, and the only difference in her reflection now is the tears in her eyes. She hasn't really let herself cry about Dan, not since the night he died. She's been trying to be strong for Trixie, because her daughter needs her more than ever now. Bottling up the grief. She swipes at her eye, almost impatiently.

"He was a good man, who didn't deserve what happened to him," she murmurs, then turns away from the mirror.

"We need to get out of here. What's that? Does that look like an exit to you?"

Kyle looks and sees the familiar, bright red letters: EXIT.

"Oh my god, finally," he says, picking up the pace a little bit. After some more twists and turns, they finally reach the final mirrored door. Kyle pushes at it, and it doesn't budge.

"Fuck!" he cries, barely resisting the urge to kick the glass in. It's then that he notices the sticker.

"Who are you really?" he reads aloud, then scowls. "I. What the fuck kind of question is that?!"

Chloe, for her part, is calmer. She's wiped the tears away, and doing her best to ignore her reflection. Instead, she inspects around the mirror, studies the sign, frowns at it in thought.

"It's obviously a test," she says. "I mean, this whole place is a test."

Obviously.

She places a hand on the cool glass, glancing up at the sign. "I'm Chloe Decker."

Nope, that wasn't the correct answer. "Well, it was worth a shot."

Kyle frowns at the sticker like maybe it has personally offended him. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm Kyle Broflovski," he says. "I'm twenty-four, and I was supposed to be starting law school. I'm a good big brother, and an okay son. Mostly okay. Alright, kind of a disappointment." He swallows hard. "I... I don't know, I don't really know who I am. I know who I was supposed to be."

There's a sound from the door, but it still doesn't open.

Chloe watches, listens carefully. Something happens, for sure, but the glass doesn’t budge.

Obviously, it’s her turn.

“I’m Chloe Decker,” she repeats, but this time continues. “Daughter of John and Penelope. Mother of Trixie. A cop. Lucifer’s girlfriend, and - and a gift from God. And I try really hard to be good at all of those things but sometimes it’s just not good enough and people get hurt.”

Or worse.

The glass swings open.

Kyle stares at the door, like maybe they're hallucinating it. Then he just gestures for Chloe to go through first, partly so she won't see how upset he looks. He follows her, silent.

Outside the air still smells like popcorn and sawdust, and the rides turn on and on and on.

He looks at Chloe. "You're really a mom?"

As soon as they make it out to the midway, Chloe stops, closes her eyes, leaning against the building that houses the mirror maze. Swipes at a tear that trickles from the corner of her eye.

Kyle asks a question, and she sucks in a shuddering breath. “Yeah,” is her simple response.

"I'm sorry."

There's a long enough pause that they can hear screams from the roller coaster, and then Kyle starts laughing with nervous relief.

"I mean, not that you ARE a mom, I mean that she's not here! Oh my god, my fucking wording... I'm sorry."

Chloe just sort of huffs faintly. As if she'd be offended by anything he could say right now. Mostly she's just trying to get her bearings, catch her breath, regain some semblance of self-control.

Push back the breakdown that threatens to overwhelm her if she spends too much time dwelling on her situation.

"I wouldn't want her here," she points out after a moment. "She's home, where she belongs. Getting back to her there is what I'm planning to do."

But she needs to focus on something else. Stop letting the worry and the fear eat her up.

"It's okay, you know," she adds, changing the subject. "To not have things figured out yet."

"Yeah, point," Kyle says. "You don't want to put kids through shit like this, it messes them up." He laughs shrilly again. "I'd know."

He manages to get a better hold on himself by walking, putting more distance between them and the House of Mirrors. "Is it, though?" he asks. "I'm twenty-four. I did four years of university already, and I'm still not sure if I'm doing the right thing or just doing what my folks said I ought to. That's not okay, that's STUPID."

"Yeah, you're only twenty-four," Chloe says with a faint snort. "Whoever decided that high schoolers should know exactly what they want to do for the rest of their lives - what their calling is - was an idiot. I didn't decide to become a cop until I was twenty-five. I know people who've taken a lot longer to figure things out. Everyone has their own journey."

She waves him in the direction of a corn dog stand.

"Is it your parents who want you to go to law school?"

"For seriously?" He supposes he knew logically that some people don't decide on a career path right out of high school, but he hadn't really believed it.

He nods and walks in the direction she indicates. "Yeah. My dad's a lawyer. My mom also would have accepted doctor, but I hate hospitals."

Chloe nods. "My dad was a cop," she admits. "My mom is an actress - you know, not super famous, but she's done all right for herself. And for as long as I could remember, I knew I was supposed to follow in her footsteps. My childhood was a whole lot of me being shuttled between lessons and auditions and sets and agent meetings and back again. It was never a choice I made, just what was expected, so I didn't think to question it much. Then my dad died, and that got me questioning everything."

She buys two corn dogs, and offers one to Kyle.

"I realized acting wasn't what I wanted, it was what Mom wanted for me. She meant well - it's what makes her happy, so she thought it'd make me happy, too. But it didn't, and this is my life, not hers. It took me a few years to realize I wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps instead, but eventually it just clicked. So anyway, long story short, when my daughter says she wants to be the president of Mars when she grows up, I trust her to figure that out in a way that makes her happy, and in the meantime I send her to science camp in the summer. You don't owe your parents a lifetime of unhappiness just because they raised you. That's not the point."

Kyle's eyebrows go up. An actress. That seems impressive to him. But then Chloe says her father died, and his expression immediately turns to one of deep sympathy. "Dude, I'm so sorry about your dad," he says as he accepts the corndog.

He listens and then nods. "Science camp is awesome," he says before taking a bite of his corndog. He thinks some more and looks at the lights of the ferris wheel. "Was your mom mad at you?"

"Thanks," she says quietly, accepting his condolences. She learned a long time ago that's the best way to handle it when someone says something like that.

They begin to stroll again, and she's not really seeing the amusements around them, mostly just eating her corn dog and glancing up at the sky.

"No, she wasn't angry. I think she was disappointed when I didn't want the same thing she wanted. But she's my mom. She loves me and she wants me to be happy with my life. Being a cop is what makes me happy."

Or it was, until very recently. Though she does feel a pang in her chest when she thinks about quitting. A pang she's felt since she made the decision. Not regret, necessarily, just... a touch of longing.

"Can I ask why being a cop makes you happy? Because, and I say this with the expectation that you're not gonna punch me, there's a LOT of bad cops. I don't think I ever met a good one, to be totally honest. And that's always fucked me up because when I was like, eight I assumed people did it because they believe in the justice system."

Edited 2021-09-18 18:09 (UTC)

Chloe studies him for a moment. No, she's clearly not going to punch him.

"I mean, hopefully now you can say you've met a good cop," she points out, her lips twisting upward. Hello, what is she, chopped liver?

But she shrugs it off easily. "No system is perfect. But I do believe in the justice system. I believe it exists for a reason, and when it doesn't work, those of us who are inside it need to try and fix it.

"I like solving puzzles. I like putting clues together. I like chasing down leads. But most of all, I know what it's like, having someone violently ripped away. I know the pain and devastation it causes. And when that happens - knowing that nothing can bring them back, nothing can reverse the pain and the loss - the least I can do is help find the truth, help hold people accountable for it. I like to think I've done that."

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