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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.
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.
no subject
He shakes his head. "I mean," he gestures at her, "How the hell has this not attracted anyone up to that challenge? You're not exactly lacking in the hots department."
no subject
Her cheeks go a little more pink and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ears, "Well I'll happily take that as a compliment. Thank you."
no subject
Somehow, he mixes compliments in with talking entirely too much about her sex life. It's a delicate mix, and one that will probably get him in trouble eventually. But for now, he rambles on.
"It is a compliment. But also just facts. The odds are entirely against you for NOT finding someone who knows what they're doing. A big part of it is just appreciating what you've got in front of you. Worshiping at the altar that is a hot body with a cool person inside it. If you appreciate enough, you want to treat the person right, to experience every last turned on inch of them. It's not work at all. It's just what happens!"
no subject
"I'm not faking nice, I guess I just channel all my sexual frustration into taking care of others." She says, and then adds. "That and I masturbate a lot. Even if most men let me down at least I always have me, myself and I."
She moves out from behind the giant Jigglypuff, leaning against it and looking at him playfully.
"Just what happens hrm? Well it might only happen with you sweet face, because so far I've yet to meet a guy who appreciates me or is willing to worship my altar. My boyfriend back home is usually too busy cheating on me or ignoring me to do such a thing."
no subject
If it's not clear at this point, the guy is pushing those boundaries as hard as he can, seeing where her cutoff point is. But then, he'd been doing that before when he was trying to push her away. It had just changed to a decidedly raunchy flavor now. But so far, all he was getting was a cute little blush and more interest.
"Ugh, I'd worship at that altar all goddamn day, night, day again, and some more night. And maybe over pancakes. Or under them, with some delicious syrup." Despite having a mask on and, well, his face, somehow he still manages to waggle some eyebrows at her. "I mean, at this point it'd be mostly physical because we just met and we barely know one another, but that's okay. There's a lot of physical awesome there to appreciate. Well, that and owing you for being there for me when I really needed it, and that ain't nothin'."
But then he sighs dramatically. "Well, if I wasn't a fugly zombie creature, that is. You might be kinky as fuuuuuuck with that taking care of others while masturbating thing, but it takes a special kinda kinky to be into me. I rank a few rungs below cheating, ignoring boyfriends, if we're being honest."
no subject
"No, no toy inside me." She says in-between cackling, "And I've never thought of using my powers that way but hey, I'll add it to my list of things to try."
Her laughter tapers off a little though when he calls himself fugly and she reaches over to put a hand over his. "Awww hey, no. That's not nice to say about yourself. You're not a zombie creature and you're so not below my list of shitty ex-boyfriends. You just proved that by actually being nice to me."
no subject
Deadpool pauses and flails at her. "REALLY??? Man. See, here's the problem with people with powers. They all wanna be heroes or villains with those powers, right? But what about self love? What about thinking outside the box and doing things just for you? Like. Okay. Check it. MY thing is I regenerate, yeah?"
He grabs a plastic knife from a nearby food stand and stabs himself in the hand with it. It...okay it doesn't do a lot of damage. But it does a little, and that heals up.
"So the obvious thing here is to be an undying fighter on the battlefield of good and evil. And sure, I do that as a merc. But I mean, booooorrrrriiiinnnng."
He sticks a finger in the air. "BUT!! The self love side of my powers is that as long as I stay hydrated and eat enough, I can essentially have sex, like, forever. You know how some guys shoot their load and then go soft and roll over and go to sleep, because biology or something? Me, I don't even go soft again. I can just keep going and going and going, the Energizer Bunny of smut." Now he taps his chin. "Which, I guess, unless there's a fun fantasy or scifi macguffin that prevents pregnancy, makes my other superpower super impregnation. But eh. That shit is easily handwaved because nobody wants RP bebes. Well, some people do, but definitely not with me."
He shrugs. "But, alas, we arrive at me being fugly. It's not nice, but it is true. Just facts. Not self deprecating. I mean, you saw my face in the jump scare. That's all over." He pulls up his shirt. "See? So yeah. I guess this means I'm not NOT saying that I've masturbated for three days straight before just because I could. It was pretty messy though. Good thing I did it on a New York subway where nobody notices."
no subject
"I agree! More people with powers should be thinking about how their powers effect their sex lives! I bet that a lot of villains wouldn't bother anymore if they had better and more creative sex."
She jumps a little when he suddenly stabs his hand but is intrigued by how quickly it heals, she is further intrigued when he mentions he can just keep going and going when it comes to sex. Mental note to her, ask other women on the island if the Ancient One ever supplies birth control....
"It's not so bad." She says when he pulls his shirt up, looking at the scars. "I mean like are you ever going to be a spokesperson for a skin care brand? Probably not. But I've seen worse." She tilts her head to one side and looks at him sweetly, "You're not really building a very good case against yourself Wade."
"Because so far all I've heard is that you're sweet, attentive, sex positive and funny." She says and gives him another quick kiss on the cheek. "You must have a really happy partner back home."
no subject
He can't help but make a skeptical face at her when she says he doesn't look that bad, and only grows more skeptical as she says she's seen worse.
"Worse than me? Really? Threshy after explosive anal with his sister doesn't count. He can wash that off." Oh yes. He went there. Ain't no Threshy here to pop his head for it, either!
"Don't forget psychotic and insane and hyperviolent!" He sighs. "I've had a few partners across a few iterations. Most recently in the comics I was married to a monster queen, but she left me for Dracula. I'm not cut out to be royalty. Sigh. But no...no partner back home. They never last. I either fuck them up, or they're smart enough to leave me while the leaving is good. My partners are like Doctor Who companions in that way."
no subject
"Eeeew she left you for Dracula? That sucks, he's lame." She says and pats his hand sympathetically. "Question, since you heal so quickly does that also make you like Doctor Who and you'll just live forever?"
no subject
He shrugs like what can you do? "Yeah. And if you ask me, Dracula isn't all that hot. But yeah, as far as I know, I live forever. There've been stories of me's from waaaaaay in the future. I don't get any more sane."
no subject
"Dracula is only hot if Gary Oldman is playing him." Roxy agrees and then tilts her head to one side thoughtfully. "Huhn...well maybe you're supposed to live forever for a reason or something? I dunno, I'm not good at guessing the future, I'm more of a live in the now kind of gal."
no subject
Look, making fun of terrible exes that were terrible lays was a national pastime no matter where you came from.
"Pfff...I don't exist for any reason at all other than to troll the entire universe."
no subject
"Ohhhhhhh Wade, you're my new favorite person here."
no subject
He can't help but grin. "Hey, in my books, a good laugh as a good sex, so that already puts me one up on your exes right? You can't possibly tell me they made you laugh this hard."
no subject
She cuddles him even more, "Abso-fuckin-lutely. None of my exes ever made me laugh this hard or have been as nice to me as you are. Thank you."
no subject
He winces. "Although I guess that probably turned out worse. But hey! I made a new buddy!" He gives her a good cuddle right back. "Although next time, you should try saving me from the Tunnel of Love. That'll be a little less traumatic for everyone involved, and have much less puke. At least, I'd hope. AW YEAH NEXT MONTH TOPLEVEL REFERENCE!!"
(This means we have to, you know, write a top level.)
"Eh, we'll get to it eventually..."
ooc: Roxy does have a Tunnel of Love top level if you don't feel like doing one yourself
She grins happily, enjoying the cuddles as well as being called a new buddy. Roxy loves a good cuddle, it's one of the reasons why she already likes Kyle so much as he is always willing to cuddle her. Although his boyfriend might not be too happy with that development....
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She says, which is probably a statement that she'll tell him often. "But that's okay, you're nice."