polymods: (Default)
polymods ([personal profile] polymods) wrote in [community profile] polylogs2021-10-01 03:00 pm

👻🎃🤡

POLYMYTHOS: THE CARNIVAL

THE CARNIVAL


Ⅰ. THE TEMPLES
There's a subtle shift in the music you will hear drifting on the wind this month - gone is the calliope that screams just a little too loud, replaced instead by circus music that sounds cheerful and bright. The thrill rides are still undercut by rock music, but it seems less sinister. Any time you venture out, you'll find the people milling about are smiling, and none of those smiles seem like screams turned upside down.

The Caravan Temple remains - 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.

Access to the High Temple is also available to all Travelers this month.

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. Your character will revert to their true age if they were affected by the carousel last 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. Have fun!



Ⅱ. CONCERT AND CANDY
CW: alcohol and drug use, sax music.
It wouldn't be a carnival if you didn't eat like a garbage disposal.

There's corndogs, deep fried mars bars, popcorn, donuts, funnel cakes, cheese fries, lemonade, burgers... Go on. Eat like you have a personal vendetta against your gastrointestinal tract. And of course you ought to help yourself to some cotton candy, because what's a fair without cotton candy?

There's pink and there's blue. Whichever colour you choose, you'll find that you start to feel a little funny after you eat it.

The pink cotton candy will fill you with a sense of pleasant euphoria. You'll find it easier to talk to people, and you'll find them just so much more pleasant than usual. You'll be empathetic, and just filled with love for life. You might even want to hug people, even if you're not usually the touchy feely type. You just feel so good.

The blue cotton candy will also make you feel good, but it's more mellow than the pink - you don't want to run around hugging people so much as you want to just chill out somewhere. You'll feel very relaxed, very open to talking to others about deep subjects like whether or not Kubrick really did fake the moon landing, man. Everything seems just a little more amusing, a little easier to handle.

To make things even better, there are outdoor concerts at night. No matter what band is on stage, you find yourself really enjoying it, even if the music isn’t usually your thing. There are kegs of beer set up around the edges of the concert area and you’re free to help yourself.

All that cotton candy and cheap beer might impair your judgement a little. Maybe... enough to get a tattoo? Calm down, they’re temporary. There’s a stand called Pirate Pete’s on the midway not far from the concert where a guy dressed as a pirate - Pete, presumably - will be happy to draw whatever you want on your choice of body part.

Whatever you wind up getting, you’ll find that whenever you or someone else touches it you’ll experience a vision of a memory associated with the imagery of your tattoo. So if you get a snarling wolf, you might experience a memory of a time you treated someone savagely. If you get ‘Mom’ in a heart, maybe you and whoever else happens to brush against it will see a memory of your dear old mother. Gosh, this could get revealing or embarrassing fast!

Fucking Pete.

Notes:
1. Any food found on the midway is consumable by non-human entities. The cotton candy will likewise affect anyone who is not human.

2. I still believe.

3. The memory can be one that your character has repressed or forgotten.



Ⅲ. TUNNEL OF LOVE
CW: potentially sexual content
Maybe it's the cotton candy, or maybe you're just really captivated by the swan boats, but you find yourself drawn to one of the cheesiest rides in the place: the Tunnel of Love.

You can't ride alone, of course - this is the sort of thing meant for two! The guy running the ride ushers one of your fellow travelers on with you, then wolf-whistles, imitates a cat noise and a bed squeaking, then purrs, pants, barks, howls, twiddle his lips and says. “Hubba hubba!”

He ignores you when you glare at him.

The inside of the tunnel is surprisingly pleasant - it does not, as a matter of fact, smell of stale water or unmentionable bodily fluids. The water you're floating on is crisp and clear, like a real spring, and alongside either side of it are miniature rolling hills of what looks like real grass. The lights are low and pinkish, casting a soft glow over everything.

And they're playing one of your favourite songs on the speakers! Whatever that may be.

As you ride along, you'll start to think that your companion is just incredibly witty and intelligent and good looking. These feelings may be sexual or romantic, or they may be perfectly platonic - the result either way is that you really, really think this person is just the absolute greatest. You might find yourself telling them things you never would normally. Or doing things you might not otherwise…

Of course, the second you're off the ride you might find all of those fuzzy feelings depart. Better hope you didn't do anything TOO embarrassing.

Notes:
1. Only for characters of age havin the intercourse, please.

2. If your characters want to get naughty, they may discover that these swan boats have a little glove box containing condoms, lube and the like. You could also just fill the former up with water and throw them at that guy running the ride when it's over.



Ⅳ. HAUNTED HOUSE
CW: violence, blood
You might be on carnival island, but it’s still October. It’s time to get spooky! And what better way to do that than to take a ride through the haunted house?

A bearded fellow in half-assed clown makeup and an Uncle Sam costume loads you onto a small rail car with at least one other person. It rolls forward along the bumpy tracks into darkness. Not that it stays totally dark for long - sickly lights illuminate animatronics and mannequins posed alongside the track. There are foam cemeteries and giant rubber spiders galore.

As you move further and further into the attraction the better the decorations get. Those rubber spiders now look awfully real, and that bat that just dive bombed the car sure seemed legit.

Suddenly the car jerks to a halt. You peer around in the gloom, and then lights go up.

One bathes a coffin in red. Another illuminates a gravestone in green. The last is a facsimile of the moon itself, pale and silver.

Before you can do more than wonder what the heck is going on, one of these attractions splits open and a monster leaps toward you. A vampire, a ghost, or a werewolf respectively. If you’re quick you can get out of the way and run for the exit.

If you’re not?

The vampire’s teeth sink into your veins. The ghost’s cold hand wraps around your heart. The werewolf’s claws tear your flesh.

You’re lucky in that it doesn’t kill you; somehow you manage to get away and stumble outside, where you swiftly discover that the rest of your month is going to be pretty goddamn strange as you transform right then and there into whatever monster attacked you.

That’s right, for the month of October you may have to figure out a way to deal with cravings for flesh and blood, or how to get anything done when objects just fall right through your glowing hands.

You may be understandably upset about this. If you return to the Haunted House and accost the guy running it, he’ll tell you that the only way to break the curse is to admit to why you see yourself as that monstrous archetype. Now piss off, he ain’t got time for your jackassy questions.

Notes:
1. To return to their natural state, your character must reveal a personality trait or incident that would correspond to the monster they’ve turned into. For example, a person turned vampire might talk about how they feel they drain other people’s energy with their problems, or that they feel drained by other people’s. A ghost might not be able to let go of the past, and a werewolf might have anger issues. Interpret as you will!

2. The monsters can abide by any monster rules that you like. Is your vampire a Twilight vampire or a Dracula? It’s up to you!

3. The horror ride guy is weirdly impervious to harm.

4. All characters will return to normal at the end of October.

The kind of jams that last all night.


Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

nightschool: (🖋️ 109)

haunted house

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-10-26 11:15 am (UTC)(link)
(OOC: If you're still open to a tag in while Connor's still transformed, I couldn't resist a robopire! 👀)

So many faces have gone missing over the months they've been herded to and fro on a vessel that seems to be leading them nowhere. He does what he can not to think overly much on it. Many faces went missing on London's streets every day, a grimly high number by nefarious causes. If there is daylight, nightfall is fated to follow, and creatures of all stripes and scruples live in the shadows. He ought to know; he is not so innocent, either. He's guilty of witnessing death, not inflicting it by his own hands, but... but--

But it had been a near thing, not long before the Ancient stole him away. He's not so sure that's a shadow of a stain that can wipe clean, or if he would be granted clemency to cleanse himself of it those he holds closest.

In a city teeming with unpredictable and untrustworthy faces, those few close companions he'd made had brought out the best in his nature and kept the worst at bay. He's missed that the most on these isles: kinship, connection. Friendlier faces.

And if none exist, then familiar ones, at least--he keeps a watch on those, noting them as he can amid the carnival's labyrinthine booths and artificially bright lights. He reserves special attention for the androids, unique as they are. It helps that they light their way with their own illumination, so he thinks nothing of seeing Connor on the other side of a turn between two attractions beyond greeting him.

"Connor."
lickstheevidence: (Default)

(I owe you one [1] tag on our other thread)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-11-01 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
Blue blood doesn't coagulate the way red blood does. The only way to stop a leak is to repair the tubing it flows through- a simple enough job for his healing nanites, but it does explain why when Connor turns to see who's called his name, he's still clutching his neck, and there's still blue blood oozing between his fingers.

"Kit." He doesn't smile as he normally would, far too distracted now by the too-bright lights, the too-loud sounds assaulting his newly heightened senses. They were already much more sensitive and fine-tuned than a human's, but now everything is nearly unbearable. He needs to find a quiet, dark place to heal and figure out what exactly happened to him, but when he takes a step towards Kit, something else catches his attention, something that awakens an entirely new sensation within him.

Hunger. Sudden and powerful, almost knocking him over with its insistence. He stares at Kit with a thoughtful sort of anticipatory predation in his eyes, the warmth of Kit's body and the scent of his blood flowing through his veins just beneath the skin an irresistibly tantalizing combination. He takes another step forward, delicately licking his lips.

"It's good to see you again."
nightschool: (🖋️ 99)

u good, there's no rush in the slow lane

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-11-06 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
Set in opposition, the man who's been seeking distractions and assaults on his senses everywhere he can to detract from the ones that bubble up with impunity from within finds himself fixed in place, bringing closer attention to bear.

The way Connor serves back his simple, shortened name and holds his neck sharpens him to a point. Something's different. From there, some might make the leap to something's wrong with the miraculous metal man, of which he's held up as a worthwhile meeting on these unplanned travels, for the glint of wetness on the android's fingers and the purpose in his step.

But Kit has seen predators at a distance his entire life, and lived his most recent years in close quarters with them. He's witnessed how hunters hunt. Their appetite. And Connor's bearing sends a frisson of recognition across his awareness, striking him in his marrow, almost as intimately well-known as the back of his own hand. It's in the eyes. A hungry hunter's eyes.

A different sort of anticipation raises the fine hairs on his arms even while he rakes Connor with his gaze, from fastidiously designed head to engineered toe, putting together the clues to what has his attention ringing. "What's all this, then?"

He lifts a hand, points a finger. Indicating the other's neck and the fluid there.

He doesn't move. He should, after Bedlam, that black pit of misery and terror and teeth. But he doesn't.
lickstheevidence: (Default)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-11-15 12:58 am (UTC)(link)
Connor has been called a hunter before, programmed for that very thing, the chase. The kill. When Connor grins at him, it's not the friendly, maybe awkwardly uncertain sort of smile he's offered up in the past. This one is full of confidence and sang-froid, the snarky smile of one who knows exactly what he wants and exactly how he's going to get it, without any doubts whatsoever.

He steps closer again to Kit, eyes still caught in the depths of his, a spider without mercy for its hapless prey and ready to strike.

"Oh, this?" He takes his hand away from his neck, staring at it as if it's nothing more than an afterthought. "Funny thing, that. One of the props in the Haunted House ride fell on me and damaged my neck. Peculiar, no?" The damage just so happens to very coincidentally look like a bite from someone with fangs. Connor chuckles darkly as he wipes the blue blood off on his jeans, his nostrils flaring with the scent, taking another step forward.

He breathes in deeply of Kit, closing his eyes to savor the smell of the life pulsing through him before he opens them again, looking sharply at the other man.

"What brings you here this evening? Enjoying the festivities?" He doesn't really care, his eyes drawn to Kit's neck and staying there. He's not quite close enough yet to reach out and grasp Kit's wrist to pull him in closer. Not yet. Just a few more steps...
nightschool: (🖋️ 42)

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-11-25 11:28 am (UTC)(link)
The android continues to stalk closer, his posture imbued with new angles and energy unlike any Kit has seen in him before, despite the other's claims of damage. The odd-colored fluid splattered across pale synthetic skin turns purple as a neon light flashes over his passage.

A day previous he wouldn't have thought to draw a correlation between such disparate beings, but he half expects that sharp-edged smile to bring with it the wafting smell of blood and roses, so reminded is he of Louisa. Yesterday, he would've said he had a grasp of Connor's strangely sweet disposition. Today, there is wildness. Irreverent savagery without her silks, but the same smile. It's the one feature the de Clermont siblings share when they're in a mood.

"Connor." Again, the android's name--but this time with a curl of mild protest to it. An air of chiding, as one indulges the sheet-thin performance of a child hiding a stolen treat behind their back. "You could do better."

You're not fooling me, that comment says. Not that something's gone awry here--and not what Connor is doing. Danger and hunger hum in a place deeper than his ears, joining the buzz of neon lights.

As Connor's steps into conversational range and slips beyond, now is the time anyone might have taken a closer look at the android's dishevelment and begun asking questions. Still, Kit stands.

The sweep of his gaze softens, slows. As does his voice when he says, "You're not yourself. What's happened?"

Something. Something's happened. And what may happen should he let the other close those last few feet feels foreboding. But, it seems, not enough to summon resistance. Even as he pulls his head back, as if anticipating what part of him has gathered the most attention, he doesn't so much as move a step to try and reclaim polite distance.