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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.
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.
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...
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.
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!
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.

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.

cw: violence, blood, beating up a minor
So Kyle knees his other self in the groin.
It works to get the doppelganger to lose his grip. Kyle squirms away and sprints to Molly. Before he can think to do differently, he steps on the little mirror-girl's wrist to make her let go of the real Molly. He doesn't feel good about it, but he does it anyway. He's tackled by his own mirror image a moment later. He hits the ground and feels his chin bang against the floor, biting the tip of his tongue hard enough that he tastes blood.
He squirms, trying to get onto his back but he feels his doppelganger get an arm around his throat and press, cutting off his air.
Re: cw: violence, blood, beating up a minor
"OOOWWWWWW," Orphan Molly cries out as Kyle steps on her wrist. She definitely loses her grip on Molly, but she begins to cry. Do you feel even MORE terrible, Kyle? You made a little mirror girl cry.
Molly looks at her mirror self in shock, not at what Kyle did, but at just how sad she looks. Yes, she had just been trying to horror movie Molly into a mirror, but at the same time...it was her. But lonely and sad. And looking at her, Molly felt that feeling inside her, and it made her puff out a sad little sigh. So she crawls over and hugs her Orphan self. Orphan Molly clings to her, not trying to drag her anywhere for the moment. It's definitely not a horror movie thing to do, but Molly thought it was important to not do the expected thing right now. This was weird, and she remembered Alex - jerk that he was - saying that if you felt an opponent was trying to push you in a certain direction, do the unexpected to throw them off their game. He'd been a jerk, but a smart tactical jerk.
Kyle's battle is a little different, though. The violence is more real, but it's also something of a distraction from what really matters. Would Kyle pick up on it? Not-Kyle was cutting off his air, but was also crying with frustration. He kept muttering about how Kyle needed to get back in the mirror, how he couldn't let the fake Kyle out into the world. People needed to see the true Kyle. They needed to know the truth of him.
cw: violence, strangulation
His mirror self doesn't seem interested in hugging it out, though. Considering his personality this really isn't shocking, but it does make escape a little harder. Kyle manages to elbow his doppelganger and at least turn around so he can grapple with him properly. Face wet with sweat and blood and tears he wouldn't admit to shedding, Kyle finds himself face to face with his own ugliness.
"People need to see the REAL Kyle," this apparition says.
Kyle screams with inarticulate rage and wraps his hands around the other Kyle's throat. "FUCK YOU!" he manages. "You're NOT the real Kyle, you're not, YOU'RE NOT!"
Mirror-Kyle gurgles breathlessly, hands coming up to slap weakly at the fingers pressings into his windpipe. Kyle - the real Kyle (was he?) - screams again, this time in triumph.
Sweat runs into Kyle's left eye and he jerks his head up slightly, squinting. It ispure luck that his gaze falls first on the exit sign, so much closer than he'd thought, and the little sharpied sticker on the final mirror.
who are you really?
Kyle looks at his doppelganger, now turning a blotchy redpurple and drooling as his eyes fluttered sightlessly. Kyle watches as his fingers suddenly let go and fall away, letting his doppelganger collapse and gasp for air. He feels like a balloon bobbing along above his own body. Surely he hadn't nearly just killed himself. Surely.
"You're me," he says through numb lips. He sits down on his ass with a thump, stunned. "You. You're me. Ugly and vicious and..." he looks at his hands again and bursts into tears. "And I'M me. I'm mean. I don't want to be mean, I'm so sorry..." Weeping, he reaches for his doppelganger, cradling him and wishing he could take away his swollen throat. Softly, he pets his ridiculous hair back.
"I'm so sorry. I thought we were better than this."
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As she felt bad, Orphan Molly tried to tug her to a mirror.
"NO, Saddest-Me. Hiding in a mirror isn't the answer. I'm stuck here, and I am sad about it, and I do feel alone with no parents even when I'm with my friends pretending not to feel alone, and I do feel bad about it because they are my friends and I'm not alone because I have them. And..and..I do want to be a cool super hero, but I'm afraid of just wanting to do it to feel cool and being a useless one like the others complain about. But I don't run from my problems."
She still hadn't seen the sign, but she'd done a pretty good job of answering its question. For her, a door popped open.
But for Kyle...he still wasn't quite there yet. Molly watched him fighting himself, and she felt bad that she couldn't help. But her only help was to punch the ugly him, and she had an idea that was the wrong answer given how far it was getting him (not very). And then she realized something. If she was right, maybe helping him was cheating, but the rules DID say that you had to come in here with a partner for safety, right?
"Um...Mr. Kyle..." She waves, trying to get his attention. "I don't think you're mean. You seem really nice. But you might be mean to yourself. Is that your answer? And if you're mean to yourself, you might not be good at accepting who the real you is, to people who aren't mean to you."
There. That felt helpful!
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He looks at his ugly self, laying there and just breathing.
"I am mean, though," he says quietly. "To myself, yeah. Pretty fucking frequently, I guess. I think I'm pretty goddamn ugly and a huge fucking let down, to be honest. But I can also be pretty goddamn mean to other people. I can. If I think they deserve it, I can be downright vicious. But I try not to think about it, and instead just... hope everyone thinks I'm nice."
There is a click as another door opens.
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Now she leaves her Orphan Self, who seems to be mollified (rimshot!) and moves over to Kyle. He needs a hug more than her mirror self does now, so she gives him one. She doesn't know the guy at all, but clearly it's the right thing to do. Hopefully. Some people got really weird about touch, she'd learned.
"I don't think you're ugly. You have really cool hair." She doesn't know about the let-down part, so she can't speak to it. He hasn't let her down yet, but how could he have? They'd just met.
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"Thanks," he says hoarsely. Shakuly, he moves to stand, tugging Molly up with him.
"Come on," he says softly. "Let's get the fuck outta here." He looks at their doppelgangers, then turns to the door. It too is a mirror, but this one simply reflects them as they are. There is no sign of the doppelgangers in the reflection.
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Could you do good by being mean? Or was there something darker under the surface? Right about now, she missed her friends even more - they'd definitely have something smart to say about it all.
"Uh. Yeah. Totally." She turns back and leaves with Kyle, but it's hard to shake the image of their sad reflections.
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"Ugh," he mutters. "I gotta get cleaned up. You wanna walk with me back to the caravans? We can grab some food on the way."
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"Um...sure." She looks around the caravan. Some of it had been fun, but a lot of it had been really weird. Getting away from it shouldn't sounds like something she really wants to do. This should all be fun. But after the mirrors and the clowns...yeah. She was kinda done for now.
"Can it be extremely unhealthy and totally fried even though it probably shouldn't be, though? At least the food here has to be fun, right?"
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"It will be extremely unhealthy and totally fried," he assures her solemnly. "And I can say I've eaten the food and nothing bad happened, so at least we're safe there."
As they walk, headed for one of the many junk food merchants, Kyle says, "You saved my ass, Molly. I won't forget that. You're from Earth, right?"
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She glances up when he says she saved his ass. Although she's not exactly what one would call humble or bashful, she still waves his comment off.
"Yeah, I'm from Earth!! But I've known people from space. And it was you that saved me from Sad-Me! I just kinda talked to you. You handled Mean-You pretty well on your own. I didn't have to punch him for you or anything."
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Yeah, Molly is endearing. Kyle subconsciously decides he needs to look out for her from now on.
"I feel kinda bad for hurting her," he admits. "But... yeah." He risks a glance back but they've left the maze behind.
"You punch a lot of people?"
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Behind them, the maze looks like just another fun diversion! Come one, come all, wander through and have a few yuks!!! He can even see a hint of his reflection from this angle. But...is it him, or ugly him?
"It's okay. She was just a reflection person. Not real. And she was being a jerk, so you had to stop her." Molly shrugs it off like it's no thing. "Oh yeah. I'm really good at punching!!" She punches the air a few times for emphasis.
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He grins, but doesn't laugh - laughter might be taken for disbelief. "You seem pretty tough."
no subject
It probably says something that she tells him all of this as if it's perfectly normal and not completely insane. The kid has had a completely insane life, but somehow she manages to keep smiling through it.
"I am!!! I'm probably stronger than the Hulk, but I've never gotten to arm wrestle him so I'm not sure."
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Kyle laughs. "There's a lady hulk here! You should try!"
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Molly blinks when he says there's a lady hulk. "A lady hulk?!? FOR REAL?!? I wanna meet her!! Do you know her??? I bet she's way cooler than the boy hulk!"
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"Yeah! My buddy Carter is friends with her. She seems a lot more articulate. I bet she'd like you."
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Deep thoughts with a twelve year old, everyone.
"I hope so!!!," she gushes at the idea that the lady hulk would like her. "Being friends with a lady hulk would be so freaking awesome. What color is she? I think hulks come in different colors sometimes." She leans in conspiratorially. "I hear the red ones are kinda mean. Be careful of them."
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"I think she's green," Kyle replies. "I do know she's a lawyer, so she's probably really smart."
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"Well, unless you're a hulk. They get pretty powerful when they get angry. So if you're a hulk, definitely get angry because then you can punch stuff!"
She prances from foot to foot. "But a smart lawyer hulk though!!! SO COOL! Are you friends with her too?"
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"Not quite friends, but she is a friend of a friend! So I bet we can totally all hang out someday soon."
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