logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: COTTON CANDY HEARTS

Entry tags:

EVENT LOG: COTTON CANDY HEARTS

characters: everyone.
location: amusement park.
date/time: august 17 - 31.
content: time to enjoy a little time at the carnival!
warnings: n/a. please use cw tags as needed.

oh come, take my hand, and run through playland...

It's clear in the past two days of fevered work, the spirits are up to something. Collecting rainbow wigs and pinstriped jackets, gathering food and preparing decorations. There's no getting them to reveal the secret, though — any attempt to ask only results in an ominous gesture of silence. However, characters won't have to worry about what the spirits are up to for too long, as on the start of the 17th each and every resident of Beacon will be delivered a note, inviting them to come out and enjoy themselves at the Amusement Park.

ALL FUN AND GAMES.

Over the last few days, some of the food tucked away in the General Store, The Invincible's stock room, and the kitchens of The Landmark may have gone missing - but not to worry, because here it is, all stocked at little booths within the amusement park, ready for sampling! The enticing aromas of fried batter and sugar wafts through the air, no matter where you are in the park. Find old favorites, from funnel cakes to fried pickles, popcorn to whole turkey legs - or try something new! Ever had a corn dog wrapped in curly fries? How about a deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a stick? One spirit, currently chewing on a crispy battered pine cone, even offers a unique suggestion - bring it anything you like and it will deep fry it for you. You do have to eat it, though, that's the catch, or the spirit will be very irate and might take something of yours later to deep-fry and leave on your pillow. Don't waste good food!

At the end of the row, tables have been covered in classy checkered red-and-white tablecloths, and piled with ingredients, and it looks like ovens formerly belonging to some ruined village housing have been dragged all the way out here and plugged in, and are now waiting and ready. There's flour (all purpose, pastry, chickpea, and others, and - no, that's just a pile of sand on that plate), plenty of butter and sugar and spices, all sorts of summer fruits, and more. It's a pie making contest! The judge is the Lunch Lady spirit, who hmms and ahhs and ohhhhs wisely as they pace back and forth along the tables, observing the pies being made and occasionally taking tiny little samples with tiny little forks when the pies are baked. How will they decide the winner? That's their secret, for now!

But their delicate little tasting session has left the pies mostly unscathed, which means it's time for the pie eating contest! A rowdy quartet of squirrel-like spirits cheers everyone on who wishes to participate, and they squeak and chatter at participants, bringing pie after pie after pie directly to whoever walks over. How many can you get down?

If food isn't your style, though, carnie spirits host a number of games scattered throughout the park. They whistle and wave you over, jump on your shoulder if small or yell at you with animated limbs from above if quite tall, urging in their musical tones for anyone and everyone to come on down and give the games a try! Toss balls at a set of colorful stacked bottles, and see how many you can knock down in a single throw, with candy and costume jewelry for rewards. Fling a ring into a booth and land it around the head of the stuffed animal you want to win, if your aim is good enough. There's even a duo dunk tank set up - over a large tub, two chairs are suspended, each with an attached bucket of softballs and a target over the head of the chair. You and a friend get to climb in and see who can dunk who first!

MUST BE THIS TALL TO RIDE.

A carnival isn't a carnival without some rides to test your bravery with, is it? Past where the food booths and skill games are set up, there are a selection of them set up, all providing various levels of thrills. There's a roller coaster, of course, that's been constructed of wood and makes a loud rattling noise as it drives you through the loops and hills. There's also a tilt-a-whirl, a gravitron, and a log flume, if you're still feeling the effects of the heat wave.

For those less interested in thrill seeking, there are also slightly tamer rides, like the bumper cars, a ferris wheel, and the tunnel of love. All of these rides have the innate feeling of danger that you'd find at any theme park or carnival, but they operate quite safely, albeit with some creaking.

COTTON CANDY HEARTS.

Away from the fun and excitement, the Fun House has also come back to life. There's something a great deal more ominous about it than the rest of the celebration, however — in fact, spirits will actively attempt to steer residents away. However, those determined to explore can still find their way inside.

To start, it doesn't seem that abnormal. A mirrored maze, flashing lights and creepy music. However, as they travel through the mirrored halls, they'll notice something. Their reflection doesn't necessarily follow their movements. Actually, it seems like it is trying to get closer. Maybe that isn't their reflection at all?

Trapped and lost in the maze, eventually the reflections will become full-fledged matching doppelgängers of any character that entered. It's hard to tell the difference between the fake and the actual thing, though the doppelgängers will not speak, only chase — and chase aggressively. They will grow more and more aggressive in trying to reach their double, willing to go through potential distractions if they have to. Cutting them down seems ineffective at best; as long as there are reflections, the doubles will keep coming, growing more and more bloodied as they "die". Ultimately, they will not stop until characters exit the maze or they reach their exact match.

As they reach their match, they will reach out and grab their heart. Literally, hand through the chest and everything. It's as excruciatingly painful as it sounds. The doppelgänger will smile a demented, satisfied grin, and disappear immediately after without a trace. Any character that got nabbed by their double will suffer from lantern malfunctions for the rest of the event. You're more than welcome to pick what malfunction and to what extent!

FIND YOUR FORTUNE

Characters that have braved wandering outside the relative warmth and activity of the the celebration will find the rest of the amusement park still a little grim. Dark, worn down, abandoned. Plenty of the rides seem ominous at best and dangerous at worst. In their searching, characters are likely to happen upon a fortune teller lingering in the shadows.

If they are brave enough to approach, they'll find there is no need for a coin. Upon spotting them, the fortune teller will creak into motion, offering a spiel in a slightly monotone robotic voice. It's a little unnerving, though what is the worst a robotic fortune teller can really do?

Well, it turns out, every fortune the fortune teller provides always comes true. Some of them are harmless, like a prediction that they will win their next game of darts or find a cherry in their blueberry pie. Some will get far more grim fortunes, that they will find glass in their next drink or that they will step on a nail. Worst of all are fortunes that essentially force a character to do what they would normally wouldn't, like confessing a dark secret to the next person they see.

While you are welcome to make up your fortune, you are also able to put your character's name here to get a mod-generated fortune. There will be potential clues for future explores in these fortunes, though there is also a chance of receiving something else, such as an injury or a strange happenstance. No one will receive death in their fortune!

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"Just that you told me a lot of what's happened to you," he says with a shrug, smile fading on account of it being a rather unpleasant, unfortunate tale. "And I don't - I guess it doesn't seem fair? Equal? That all this time I still haven't told you or anyone else here much about me. You know more than most, of course. You found that opal. And I'm - shit, I'm sorry, I'm still trying to work out how to get ahold of myself instead of saying every word that pops into my head. I think I can stop it sometimes if I focus."

Wow, he derailed himself, that's something. Where was he? Does it matter? Maybe right now is in fact a good time to clamp his mouth shut and have a look at the ring toss prizes.

That... sure is impressive. Will is pretty used to saying whatever comes to mind, but that's still filtered through what he thinks he can get away with and what he's willing to admit to. This is just pure, unadulterated thought-vomit. Fascinating.

"Well, it isn't as if I never noticed you weren't sharing." He figured that Rosinante had his reasons. He has his own, after all, he just... sometimes loses track of them. "I didn't consider it an exchange, when I was actively considering it at all." So basically, when he wasn't just too high to care.

"Still, if it bothers you, you're free to share whatever you like." He wants, so badly, to take advantage of this situation. Which is a rough thing to admit, but he's guilty of worse. It would be easy to just ask a few leading questions here and there, maybe even direct ones. It's not like Rosi can stop himself right now.

But Will can. And it's a testament to how much he actually cares for Rosinante that he does stop himself, doesn't just turn this into an interrogation, as much as he wants to.

He's being given an option? A choice? "That's... kind of you," he says with a soft chuckle. "I don't know what I want to say, though. A lot of what I've been through isn't exactly pleasant. Might save it for another time when we're not in the middle of a carnival where I'm about to try and throw a ring around a stuffed animal half your size."

And from up here he can't actually see into the entire booth easily. Nothing, not a single thing, is ever made quite right to suit his height here. So instead he sinks down on his knees, and that helps a good amount.

"Maybe I'll ask you a question instead," he says abruptly as he reaches for a ring. "I keep meaning to. Um. I - Can I call you Will? Instead of 'Dr. Ingram'?"

He sneaks a glance at Will beside him, closer to his own height now, then pretends to study the prizes again because maybe he'll blush less if he does that. "I feel really dumb asking that," he says aloud as his thoughts rush back out his mouth unhampered.

"A lot of them are. Asset's kind of a sad sack a lot of the time, when it's not angry." Though it's been a lot less with the blank terror lately, that's something. Kind of like Soldat. (No. You're in my head, Asset, I know what you're feeling most of the time. No.) "I was surprised how many of the modern songs have really kinda depressing lyrics when I actually listened, even when the music sounds happy. Had to do some rearranging of my files."

Edited (wow that was super awkward phrasing /fixes) 2020-09-27 20:47 (UTC)

"Plenty of the ones I've heard are sad too. From my world, I mean. Songs about wars, about losing people to the sea. It's the kind of emotion that inspires some really moving music."

But, point noted about the lyrics contrasting with the music itself. Most of the ballads and other sorrowful tunes he knows have a melody that matches the words. Hm. "But in those cases, like the ones you're talking about, maybe they like the contrast. Maybe that's a thing people from Earth are into now. It's cool to see how other worlds and time periods do things."

"Proper music should have the lyrics and key match at least," Soldat grumbles a little. Mostly because it does make sorting their collection difficult, sometimes, but a little bit because the stuff from the 30s and 40s just is more familiar, and it's perfectly straight-forward.

They tuck the tablet away again and, rather than just making hopeful, wistful looks at the smoke this time, actually flash him a smile and ask, "Bum a cigarette?"

"Yeah, of course," he says without hesitation as he pulls out the pack and holds it out. "I always try to order more than I need. As long as we don't lose the lab or any of its equipment, I should have enough for a couple more months. And even then, I bet we can go directly to the Helix Station if we need to since that's where it always used to come from before anyway."

"Thanks." They pluck one of the cigarettes out and swing their lantern around to light it. This time, they don't show off the pane with the little green crack in it. "Wish we could get Weaver properly on the network while she's down there. I visit the radio tower on my patrols now, but. Still seems like it could be a delay in helping if she needed it."

"Might be like the lighthouse where we'd need to run one of those cables. It's a long way, and dangerous. I'm guessing there's a reason they weren't on the network the whole time when Pluto was running the place."

She did manage to put something on the network once or twice, though. How did that happen? Maybe from one of the submarines?

Oh. That... oh. Now it's Will's turn to look flustered, because this is an incredible oversight. He and Rosinante have been casual with one another (close? friends?) for quite some time now, but it just never occurred to him to address the switch from formality to familiarity. Possibly because no one's ever really made that switch before.

And now he's not sure which thing he's more embarrassed about: not knowing how to deal with having friends, or forgetting to let the only one he has call him by his first name.

"Of course." He's aiming for something dismissive, but he misses the mark by a bit. He's caught off guard, there are too many surprises here. Someone bothered to ask first instead of presuming. Someone cared enough to ask. How is it that he's able to easily navigate a brief, physical encounter, but an actual personal connection completely throws him? At least, it does for a moment. And then, quite suddenly, it doesn't.

"Don't feel stupid, I probably should've said something before. My apologies." The words come without him even thinking about it. Uncharacteristic in several ways, that, but for some reason he isn't concerned. It just feels like the right thing to say. As if he, of all people, should know the right thing to say.

He wonders briefly if that fortune teller did something to him, too.

The simplest things make him happy. This is one, clearly, as he ducks his chin a little and smiles in relief, and in the very basic joy of having someone care. "Thanks," he says simply, for even right now it's hard to form the concepts of warmth and companionship into words.

"Now, let's see," he says as he refocuses his attention on the plush prizes. "What's a good Will animal? A penguin? They look proud. Or... Is that supposed to be a lion back there?"

This is not intended to be accurate commentary on what animal represents Will, of course - the selection is limited to the familiar sort of creatures that probably are not found out in space, as well as a few with some unusual twists, like the spirits found damaged toys from residents long-gone and attempted some wild surgery to patch the holes. So the "lion" is really just the large tawny catlike head on the body of what might be a gorilla with snakes for arms.

"You know what, I like that one. Looks like a challenge," he decides. He flexes his wrist with the ring in hand to try and gauge how it might fly, then gives it a toss. The ring is flimsy and lightweight - intentionally made not to fly perfectly straight, for how would this be a good carnival game if it was as easy as it looks? - but the force with which it's thrown seems to help reduce the wobble. The lion's head is a little too large for the ring to settle around entirely, but it snags on an ear, and manages to hang there without falling.

The attendant carnie spirit, something lemur-like with a long grassy mask that might itself resemble something maned, hoots and whistles and claps. As it swings its way arm over arm across the ceiling of the booth toward the not-lion, Rosinante turns to Will with a shrug and a half-smile. "I guess I- just..."

He starts, and stops quickly, practically biting his own tongue to keep it from derailing what he wanted to say. He's trying to be cool and smooth and casual and now is not the time to blurt out stupid things about how he likes being here with him. But fighting it gets harder and harder.

"You - want to try?" he manages instead, and offers Will a ring.

"They didn't trust us. Didn't believe we'd win. Why communicate regularly when we could be wiped out?" Soldat shrugs, has a drag from the cigarette. They can see the tactical reasoning there. "But now we can't be reset. And we're all Weaver has. Should have regular, easy communication."

"Yeah, good points, all of that. It's easy to forget how wary they were at first. I got to know some of them pretty well. And I feel like I've let some of my caution slip here. Easy to do that here when most people are trustworthy."

Though he frowns at himself for having said that. Not the sort of thing he'd normally choose to admit out loud. A year here really has been an easier life in so many ways than his life at home had been, though.

"We'll figure out something, if we can. There must be a way to get the signal to go farther. It reaches out into the forest pretty far. I don't know anything about all that, but Will might. Or maybe, if it's been done before, it's in their computer system somewhere."

"The radio tower picks up her Morse easy. So some signal reaches, just not that one." Soldat shakes their head a little, not watching Rosinante except out of the corner of their eye. They heard that admission, saw that frown.

So after a beat they say, "When I came here. I was terrified of everyone. Everything. But no one's actually hurt me except green-eyes, and now I'm. Less afraid. I've let my caution slip, too. But I think that's. Better. Everyone tells me to get better. I think that's what getting better means. Not being afraid all the time." So maybe it's better that Rosinante isn't afraid all the time, too? Is what they're trying to get at, here.

He understands plainly enough. "Sounds nice," he comments. "Glad you're less afraid. You're- right, I guess, that if we have the green-eyed spirits to be afraid of, it makes it easier for us all to get along and work together instead of fearing each other. Even when we've had people here who are hard to get along with, I've never felt like they really wanted to hurt any of us."

He works quietly at his cigarette a moment, then adds, "I know the stuff I'm afraid of isn't rational." And then forces himself to stop there. Even now, with this strange compulsion, he knows to stop there. It's ingrained deeply and has been since childhood. If what the fortune teller did to him makes him start to say any of it through his act of resistance, he'll just silence himself.

"Usually going first confers an unfair advantage." Honorable even while tossing rings onto rubber ducks to win a stuffed plush dragon.

"However, it is just a game." Just a friendly challenge, between two people with no real repercussions and the prizes are fluffy. Okay fine, he can relax a little. As a treat.

"Since you are the challenger, you should go first."

"A penguin?" He sounds amused and confused all at once. Does he really resemble a penguin? If he had to pick an animal for himself, he'd pick... well, he doesn't know, really. He hasn't spent enough time around any of them. Maybe a rat, some part of him thinks. Small but tenacious. Able to survive anywhere.

But alas, there aren't any rats on offer.

There is, however, a large... crow? Some sort of plush bird head sticking out of a mass of what look very much like real foraged feathers from the forest floor. It's squat and round, but there's no denying who it makes him think of.

"Well, hand-eye coordination isn't exactly my strong suit, I'll admit. Not something you develop, living in the confines of space stations." A very common problem for colony-born people, actually. But just to humor Rosinante, Will does take the plastic ring and sort of halfheartedly tosses it in the vague direction of the feathery blob.

It circles the beak perfectly. Will blinks in confusion as the lemur-spirit claps wildly and swings off to retrieve the (quite possibly lice-infested) prize.

"That... hm. Random chance, I'm sure." He is not sure.

"Or you're secretly just really skilled," he replies with a grin while watching the spirit now try to struggle back with both prizes under its arms.

"I'd believe it. You're fast with a knife. And no, I guess you're not much like a penguin," he continues on as his mouth just keeps on flapping more or less against his wishes. "I just thought, because they look proud and they're always well-dressed. But maybe you're more of a cat, since you do what you want and because I'd rather pet a cat than a penguin and Iiii've said too much," he realizes, mildly horrified he wasn't able to stop himself in time for that one. He slaps himself with a very belated calm and just breaks down, silently laughing in compete and utter embarrassment.

Well, whatever, fuck it. Speaking of cats, sometimes they get out of bags in the dumbest possible ways. Petting a cat doesn't even sound even a little bit cool or sexy or anything he could have gotten across, it just sounds fucking stupid, and now he's narrating all of this out loud but at least nobody can hear him say it.

Aw, that's an important admission, Rosi. Acknowledging that it's not rational is the first step to dealing with it, right? (I thought that was getting annoyed with it and stubborning through it. Well, that's part of it.)

"Neither is mine," Soldat agrees. "Most of it. Misty says it makes sense, but it's still not. Proportional. And it's not all gone." They shake their head a little. "I still can't hear that name. D-doctors still freak me out. I can't hug people when they need it. But it's getting better. I'm glad yours is, too."

"Didn't say it had changed any for me. But you're getting better, I've noticed that myself. Glad for you," he says with a nod.

Then, "Rather talk about you than me," he adds abruptly before shaking his head. "Sorry, that's not - I should just go. Maybe I can sleep this off. There's nothing good that's gonna come from me saying everything I'm thinking all the time."

But you just did, Rosinante. Your caution is slipping. That means being less afraid. That means getting better. Soldat debates pointing this out, but Rosinante's clearly wanting out of this conversation, so they decide maybe not to push. They're not great at pushing, and it's been nice having a chat with Rosi that didn't result in either of them getting annoyed.

Instead, they just smile a little, warm, and say, "I don't know. I thought this was a pretty good conversation. But I understand it's uncomfortable, too. I'll see you later, Rosinante."

"Why does it have to be yet?" he mutters, mostly to himself, because it seems inevitable it's going to be exactly that — something that ends with his nose broken.

And there's absolutely nothing he can do to stop this, because Cora-san is having fun, and he's powerless against that.

Instead, he observes him trying to operate the car, and when it starts crawling forward, oh-so-slowly... Law flips his hand around, creates a Room, and with a flick of his fingers, starts moving the other cars.

He doesn't have to drive himself to participate in this, okay!

"No, but it's not automatically something good, either." In his experience, it's more likely to be bad than good.

(And he's quick to judge.)

He listens to Soldat's explanation, eyebrow raised, and when he's done...

"How noble. Sacrificing yourself for the others?" He sighs. "Do what you want." He may think it's stupid... but if he's determined to do it, then he's determined to do it. Nothing he can do about it.

Being as he's used to Law's attitude, he's not really put off by the lack of participation at all. He'd be content to entertain himself if he had to, even if it's not the absolute ideal outcome. So when he sees Law's powers flare up and the cars begin to move, he is utterly delighted.

"You're driving all the cars?" he exclaims because he can't help but just say the most inane shit right now, but at least he's laughing at himself as it comes out. "I can only imagine what some of your enemies would think right now. Surgeon of Death, chasing me around with bumper cars!" Truly an epic battle of pirate versus marine.

He evades a few, but the car is just not the most maneuverable creation when he's perched atop it, even once he's gotten the simple controls figured out, and before long he ends up in a three-way collision that again dislodges him abruptly from his seat, sending him backward to the ground with a muffled whump.

Soldat resists the urge to roll their eyes, square their shoulders, and approach the fortune teller machine. The fortune sounds relatively benign, and nothing obvious happens at first as they wander back to Law, looking thoughtful. "I don't think there will be a rainbow or a storm here," they muse.

They're not super great with metaphor, can you tell, Law?

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EVENT LOG: COTTON CANDY HEARTS

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oh geez how did I not reply to this

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