October Event

[monstertruckers]

code

Gradually the badlands fade out, replaced by brass colored grass and plains. The road is unnervingly well kept here, without a trace of wear and tear. It cuts straight through the land and into a valley. Ruins come in the form of tattered cloth scraps draped over the valley, and broken down wreckage of what could have been rollercoasters and carousels.

The Convoy makes a camp in a particularly fabric rich area; the tattered cloth flaps like flags in trees and abandoned powerlines. But as the sun sets, the cloth spreads and multiplies. In a breath the wreckage turns into tents with bright colors and patterns. Ruined rides build themselves back up again, a gigantic circus tent closes over the Convoy… And the vehicles all shift in a shriek of metal, turning into cages.

Drifters might find themselves trapped in those cages, scattered across the fairgrounds, or caught on the main rings of the tent. Right as they start to gather their bearings, a voice booms out.

“Ladies and gentlemen please, would you bring your attention to me?” The stands don’t seem so deserted anymore. There’s shadows filling the seats, and a few thousand faintly glowing eyes turned towards Drifters. “A feast for your eyes to see, in the wake of catastrophe! The world may be broken, our souls ghostly streaks, but we turn in the grave for this collection of freaks!”

A ghostly carnival is in full swing, And the Drifters are the leading stars, whether they want to be or not.

01: MONSTER SHIFT, ALL

It feels like every aspect of the Carnival is trying to force monster changes on Drifters. Cages designed to oppress or panic, or even kill Drifters if they don’t adapt: water filled containers to force Merfolk changes, bird cages that rise to great heights and then drop Drifters through the floor, etc. Then there are the performances trying to force changes, and even the gaze of the spectators.

It all means that Drifters are forced to change and adapt… Sometimes into entirely new forms.

((OOC: FOR THIS MONTH ONLY, you may switch your character’s monster form to something entirely different! Any monster is available, but this will reset at the end of the month. You can choose to keep your bonus traits (if any!) active during this phase, or mute them to fully explore the new monster traits.

IN ADDITION, all traits and monster form switches are discounted this month as though they were Event Monsters.))

02: BLOOD AND CIRCUSES

In a ring of fire and ice is the first attraction; a red spattered fighting ring. The Carnival hasn’t bothered to clean out the last set of blood stains before a collection of Drifters are brought in to shed more of it.

Along with the fire and ice bordering the ring, various hazards spring in to shed more blood; knife throwers sometimes appear at the edges of the stage to throw blades at the Drifters. Bleeding or dodging is both part of the show. Same with the occasional fire and ice breathers spitting the elements into the ring.

And then there’s the hazards loosed inside the ring proper, for the fighting spectacle. With a crowd of spectators hungry for more sport, any number of matches are available:

02-A: HUSK BATTLE

Assorted monsters are kept in separate cages from any Drifters, and are in a bloodthirsty state when released. Any prior monster encounter from other areas is fair game here! And there are several new encounters as well:
+T-rexaur: A large red and purple striped t-rex with fearsome jaws, a tail swipe, and a bad attitude.
+Water based monster: A portion of the fighting ring is flooded, and populated with an assortment of water monsters. Sea wolves and sea lions (in the form of actual aquatic mer-lions) are both in attendance.
+Stranger, a ghastly and gaunt creature resembling a human mixed with an ostrich, with a mouthful of sharp teeth ready to bite.
+Khezu, an alarmingly wyrm like dragon with a long snaking neck, snapping teeth, and the ability to generate electric shocks.

To make things just a little more complicated, the monsters also have a coating applied to their fangs, claws, and any other weapons on them. The solution alternately burns and freezes when coming into contact with Drifter skin. And any hit that draws blood can forcefully activate a monster trait for the unfortunate Drifter.

02-B: PVP

Of course, the crowd demands more than just fights against a mindless opponent. They wish for displays of cunning and ferocity alike, and this pushes Drifters into the ring to face off against each other.

Monster wranglers wait on the margins, either to goad Drifters into a battle with strikes, and perhaps a few darts to induce a berserk status… Or to break fights off before they can become too lethal.

They wish to keep their star attractions alive, after all.

But accidents and killings can still happen; in that case, Drifters will find themselves reforming in a strange gas station/tent combo, similar to the usual revival ritual.

02-C: CHAINED MATCH

Either of the above situations apply, but to make things that little more interesting, two Drifters will find themselves chained together.

Whether by the throat, ankles, or wrists, there’s a length of chain tying them together. The chain appears to be made of a material similar to the moon shards, alternating between metallic material, and a strange glowing substance.

It keeps Drifters within 6-12 feet of each other at all times. Attempts to break the chain will reflect the attacks back on the Drifter, either as damage or as monster changes… Though this said, two Drifters working together with concentrated attacks might have better luck at shattering the chain, and making their escape in the chaos.

Granted, such a thing might also cause a small scale Moon Warp. But it certainly aids in adding confusion and chaos.

03: CENTER STAGE

Beyond the blood sport, there’s also a circus performance to be had. Drifters may find themselves roped into a variety of performances, whether they’re willing or not.

Ghostly carnival staff have weapons at the ready to threaten and prod someone into performing if they need some extra motivation. Or perhaps even threaten those close to the Drifter, for more encouragement. Similarly, there's also the blackmail of withholding healing or nourishment until a performance occurs.

Among several performances a few stand out:

03-A: HIGH FLYING ACT

The more athletic Drifters may find themselves pushed into an odd set up, and leap, dive, and weave through various hoops of different elements. Somehow the Carnival has found a way to make the hoops burn underwater and perfectly suspend them above water as needed, as well. The entire thing is an obstacle course that doesn’t care very much about the safety of the performers. Aside from the burning, freezing, and electrified hoops, there’s knife dodging, and a lot of perilous footwork in the form of platforms to jump between.

Further up, a high flying act has been set up near the roof of the tent, with swinging trapeze sets and a tight rope strung at a dizzying stretch. It’s a long way down, and there’s various hazards set up to jump through and weave between, from more hoops, knives, and even nets of razor wire to dive between.

Drifters may end up injured in the process, or need some help to get through the course in one piece.

03-B: MAGIC ACT

Drifters with any degree of magic, whether that’s natural or monster powers, are pressed into the magic section of the ring. The hazards here aren’t quite as readily visible, but still present.

Drifters are presented with dangerous objects to destroy or dispel with their various magic talents: throwing knives aimed straight at them, razor winged mechanical doves, and perhaps even a sharp toothed monster rabbit hiding in a hat.

Then there are the hazards to escape from; water tanks, binds, coffins that are set ablaze or stabbed through with swords and the like.

And there is also the conjuring and disappearing acts. Drifters are given various magic hats to pull roses and assorted magic props from… Though there’s a chance those items might explode into a wave of transforming or mind altering magic as the crowd applauds. And there is also the disappearing act, where Drifters may vanish and reappear in a completely different part of the Carnival.

03-C:OPEN TALENT

If a Drifter has a talent suited for performing, they might very well find themselves in the spotlight and with a ghostly crowd focusing on them. Time spent show casing their talents might get a haunting cheer from the crowd, and a request for an encore while getting showered with ghostly flowers.

Said flowers offer one of two things: a moment of clarity to help restore Drifters who have become too feral… Or a chance to escape in a sudden swirl of flower petals. Though if a crowd doesn’t like the performance, a collection of tomatoes might also be incoming… Oddly blood filled tomatoes at times.

This said, there’s a handful of other ghostly performers nearby who don’t take kindly to sharing the spotlight, and are more than ready to sabotage the performance. That may include forcing transformations, or finding a way for the performance to turn deadly. Or just glaring and/or heckling the performers. Ghosts are fickle like that.

04: ENSHROUD

One last thing can (optionally) be draped over the Drifters in the Big Top: the Masquerade Shroud.

The Shroud may take the form of a masquerade mask, a blindfold, a veil, or any other type of accessory that covers the head. It taps into the Drifter’s Sigil to further enhance the stage. These enhancements take one of two forms:

Euphoria: does its best to convince a Drifter they are in an ideal setting, where everything is going their way. This may also pull on their memories, showing them cherished things or people to motivate them into giving their all to the performance.
Terror: is the opposite, bringing up nightmarish hallucinations to motivate a Drifter to try and escape, or eliminate any obstacle before them. Like Euphoria, the Shroud may also pull up deep rooted fears, terrors, and regrets from a Drifter’s past.

The Shroud also makes the illusions visible to others. This is usually for the benefit of the audience, but this also means that Euphoria and Terrors from different Drifters can easily blend together.

05: FAIR GROUNDS

Drifters who manage to escape their cages (or avoid getting caught up in the main stage as the Carnival springs to life!) will find themselves wandering the fairgrounds. But just because they’re free of the performance doesn’t mean the dangers or the hazards have passed.

The fair grounds are host to a variety of specters, drifting from place to place. Oddly, any transformed Drifter seen by the specters doesn’t raise an alarm; the Drifters seem to be treated as part of the wandering entertainment, as long as they don’t cause trouble… Though trouble lurks behind many of the attractions.

05-A: HALL OF MIRRORS

Lurking inside a tent is a maze of mirrors; a decent hiding place, and an even better place to get lost in. These mirrors show more than just the Drifter’s reflection: they catch glimpses of a person’s past; past regrets, past triumphs, all of it blends together.

Longtime Drifters may also be forced to revisit their time in Revan, both the high and the low points.

And if a mirror is shattered, then it also shows any number of possible futures… Though many of those are grim, capitalizing on a Drifter’s fears.

A Drifter can reverse multiple transformations if they make contact with a more normal reflection… Though there is a price to this. They will find themselves mirroring the personality traits of anyone they make eye contact with.

05-B: FREAK AND PEEK

It’s possible for Drifters to be captured again, or even just shunted from the big top to end up here. Put in cages for various specters to come gawk and stare at. However, the staring can go both ways; anyone who makes close eye contact with the ghosts will see something strange reflected in the spirit’s eyes.

That something is a glimpse of the world before. Drifters can easily see visions of past locations, this time healed of all damage and filled with people. There’s even images of monsters emulated in carvings, read about in books, and spoken about with a certain amount of fear and reverence. And it all seems to tie back to the moon.

That’s just at a first glance; it’s possible to gain more information with a deeper look, though it risks upsetting the ghosts… And causing a vision backlash onto the Drifters, forcing a new monster type onto them for the month.

((OOC Note: Please comment under the Freak and Peak comment thread on the OOC post, and we will do an RNG roll to determine your visions and monster type!))

05-C: CAROUSEL

A carousel full of eerily life like creatures spins around and around. The various figurines are painstakingly crafted puppets and animatronics that resemble monsters. A haunted calliope plays in the center, though no-one sits there. Instead a constant wind shifts through the pipes, producing a strange melody; the song can verge on being hypnotic, drawing Drifters in.

If an unfortunate Drifter DOES step aboard, they’ll find themselves cruelly ensnared by ghostly harness and ropes and forced to take part in the ride. Their instincts can be pushed to a breaking point as the Carousel spins faster and faster: Drifters can easily be overridden by either a predator drive to hunt, or a prey drive to flee or fight back. With such instincts active, it becomes easier to break out of the restraints… But that impulse will remain with the Drifter.

The carousel also has one last quirk. It runs both forwards and backwards. Running backwards reverts a Drifter from their monstrous traits, but forces a fear into them. They have to fight that fear and urge to flee any monstrous creature, including other Drifters. Running forwards advances a Drifter’s monster transformations, and pushes bloodlust into them.

06: FORTUNE TELLER

A lonely tent stands apart from everything else, and the phantoms stream around the tent like fish around a rock. A faint, shimmering glow spills through the tent flap from dozens of candles, providing just enough light to see.

The ghostly specter inside weaves a pattern of cards between their hands. They don’t speak, but offer to show images on the cards to any curious Drifters. In exchange for price. It could be a bit of coin, a bauble, or even a bit of song or story.

All of this is explained on a sign board next to the cards. It also warns: “A bit of magic will cling to you after the reading. Creatures of fate always twist the pattern into odd quirks."

((OOC: As with Freak and Peek, please comment to the relevant thread, and we will RNG roll a single card drawn from the deck, and a quirk assigned to your character. Unlike Freak and Peek, this is not a monster transformation but instead a little oddity that lasts the month.)

07: ROLLER RACE TRACK

Flickering carnival lights shine down on a dusty wood carved path behind the tents: a crude race track stitched together with a rollercoaster. A handful of vehicles have been freed from being cages, but appear to be bolted to the roller coaster. Electric current races along the track at times, as a shocking hazard to anyone outside their vehicle.

Those metal tracks run in crazy spider patterns around the course, with plenty of opportunities to weave and crash together. The track also has both steep plunges, and even loops for the cars to clear.

Drifters may find themselves bound to their cars via a chain lashed from wrist to steering wheel. The only promise of being released is if they can finish the race alive… And the Drifters may also find that someone else has been chained to the car with them, to heighten the stakes of the race.

Fast cars have the easiest time clearing the loops, and racing ahead. But Tough cars can better manage to demolition derby portion of the race. It’s always a toss up on who might come in first… Though the prize isn’t much to write home about. Simply that Drifters are let free to wander the Carnival grounds.

MICRO ENCOUNTERS:

PLEASE NOTE! These are small bits of set dressing for players to include in threads if they wish, rather than full fledged prompts or events. You may handwave your exploration of these areas, or thread them out.

Bark And Bite: Outside the tents is a strange electronic arrangement. It’s a haunted barker speaker with teeth growing out of it. It tries to bite passerby in order to steal or mimic their voice to announce the next big show.

Brewing Storm: The weather is a fickle thing, alternating between a haunted twilight state, a rumbling storm brewing overhead, and a few fitful bolts of lightning and splashes of rain. The sun never seems to shine overhead, no matter how many days pass.

Haunting Melody: A persistent melody creeps through the Carnival, through mournful calliope pipes and broken speakers. It tries to match to festive tunes either from the world of Revan, or the world of the Drifters… But it always comes out sounding mournful instead of cheery.

NAVIGATION

Comments

blake belladonna | rwby | drakonis (chimera) for this event

[andnevermore]

✘ ⸻ pvp

[ Blake has had her trusty campervan for nearly a year now, and it's always stayed the same. It's kind of janky, it doesn't go fast at all, but it's been reliable. Solid. So, she never expected it to turn into a cage.

Later, she won't quite remember the act of transformation. All of her vampire traits get swept away in a wave of something new-- her bones crunch and soften to change shape, her muscles wrench and stretch, and she feels like her entire body just collapses into shapelessness before structure and form reappears. Fur sweeps over her body, wings grow anew, and before she knows it, she's a whole new monster. A black panther the size of a car, bat wings stretching up to the ceiling of the cage, and a dark-scaled snake writhing as her tail. For a time, all she can do is pace the perimeter of the cage, watching the other cages around her and worrying about her fellow drifters.

Eventually, the cage is opened, and she's forced into a tattered circus tent, and a ring set in ground stained with blood. It's overwhelming, a riot on the senses. Fire and ice burn and steam around the massive tent, spectators shouting and jeering. A dead t-rex is being hauled away, just in time for Blake to get pushed into the ring, and--

A row of darts jabs deep into her side. And though she barely feels them, she feels what happens afterward, a tsunami of rage sweeping over her. Her vision goes hazy and sharper all at once, her muscles burn, her claws dig deep into the ground, and in this berserk state, she doesn't even recognize the other drifter that gets yanked into the ring with her. All she knows is the urge to kill, to rip and tear and eat.

Her maw opens in an ear-splitting roar as her snake-tail hisses, and she bounds toward the other drifter, intent on tearing them apart. ]

✘ ⸻ high flying act

[ After the fight, whatever was in the dart slowly wears off, and then sanity seems to hit all at once, leaving Blake bloodied and dazed. But she gets no time to recover; a chain looped around her throat and wings yanks toward another act.

Before she knows it, she has no choice but to move, or get impaled by knives flying toward her.

Always graceful in combat, Blake is no less so even in this changed form. Determined, she dives toward an electrified hoop, wings tucked close to her body, banking hard to the right after she clears the first hoop to roll through another that's on fire. She jumps between platforms with the sure-footedness of any born cat, barrel-rolls away from more knives, and races toward what she can only judge is the finish line: where she can hopefully escape this chaos and the tent altogether, and try to find some of her friends to figure out what's happening.

But before she can do that: she sees another drifter in trouble.

Blake plummets sharply, ears and wings and even snake-tail pulled back for maximum speed. At the last second, she extends her wings, paws outstretched, grabbing a drifter right before they were about to hit the ground after falling. She swoops upward, and deposits them safely on a platform instead.

Gods, she wishes she had telepathy. Or a voice box capable of human sounds. Instead, all she can do is look worried, checking them over for injuries. ]

✘ ⸻ fortune teller

[ After escaping from the big tent, Blake is taken through a whirlwind of activities.

At first, she finds her way to a house of mirrors. Some of the reflections are awful, but others are of her normal self, and touching them reverses some of her changes. She's left more humanoid, now, but her legs are still firmly panther's legs even if she's upright, the snake-tail still sways behind her, and she's got a pair of curled horns tucked in next to her feline ears. She's also taller than usual, like, a lot. She blames the panther legs.

She spends a little bit time in a cage again, overwhelmed by a vision when she looks too deep into a spirit's eyes. She sees mountains being mined for resources, roads carved into the slopes. A sign speaking of the need to cull those affected by the curse. Time flows past quickly, and the mountains grow barren, resources grow scarce, and the people huddle together in the city at the base of the mountains, or try to escape through the narrow roads, hoping to avoid the attention of anybody with a blade or cybernetic parts.

As Blake wakes from the vision, she finds her with two extra sets of eyes, her vision split in six, all six glowing yellow.

Still deep in thought over the vision, she almost doesn't mean to wander into the tent with the faintly glowing entrance, but curiosity drives her forward anyway. She regales the specter inside with a tale -- (yes, okay, it's a summary of one of her fanfics, don't tell anybody) -- and is shown a card reading. She's still pondering it when she makes her way outside, and almost runs into another drifter. ]

Hey. If you want a tarot reading, I'm not sure I can recommend going in there, but it's... interesting.

[ Something catches her interest out of the corner of her eye, and Blake turns to stare down at the ground. Her shadow is... well, it's an enormous, spiked thing, full of open jaws and razor-sharp wings. ]

On second thought, I definitely don't recommend it.

✘ ⸻ wildcard

[ ooc: I'm also open to any other kind of encounter, and can happily write different starters! For the first prompt, I'm entirely open to Blake injuring, maiming, and/or killing whoever's been put in the ring with her, and am open to the same happening to Blake. Hit me up on plurk cosmonautdelta or over DM if you'd like to chat ideas! ]

pvp

[purplexing]

[The creature on the opposite side of the ring is in his own state of uncertainty. The sensory overload's already driving him to madness in desperate need of an outlet, all three pairs of ears ringing from the clamor of the audience, every nerve still buzzing as though even the air itself burns. His body still aches from the changes, sudden growths of new skeletal structures and heads, his wings dragging on the floor like he doesn't know how to use them.

One of the wranglers jabs at him with a stick, prodding him further into the ring. He hisses, one of his heads snapping back at it, but the other two swivel towards the sounds from across. Immediately his stance shifts, sensing this clear threat. All three canine heads growl, eyes flashing red, one singular head more skull-like than the others. Shaggy black fur shifts into something more feathery towards the creature's hindquarters, birdlike haunches and sharp talons making up its hind legs. His tail lashes back and forth, and finally he picks his wings up in a show to make himself look bigger as the other winged beast comes lunging for him.]

fortune teller

[faceguy]

[Leo, by contrast, looks... more or less like himself, or at least, the self he's been since he's gotten here. The most noticeable change is that he has scraggly, white hair that hangs down to about his shoulders, and a white tail that swishes around his legs. Oh, and the big holes in his shell, but that's not new to him, even if he's hidden it from most of the Convoy.

Leo is caught up short when Blake nearly runs into him. He's been avoiding their fellow Drifters, even if he doesn't really want to be alone. But seeing Blake, he relaxes a bit.]

Too late. [He glances at the shadow and grimaces.] It didn't do anything like that, though.

[He hasn't put together that the piercing loneliness is a side effect of his vision yet. He also hasn't realized that he can turn invisible.]

high flying act

[coffinturk]

The drop had been intentional, but this wasn't something Blake would necessarily know. He has no wings, he really hadn't done any ridiculous and gravity defying feats in her presence before.

And while Vincent could tell that the beast is another Drifter, he didn't know whether it was in a feral state or not. This high flying act could be just another form of battle with... ahem, higher stakes.

A death defying drop was meant to awe the audience with gasps and alarm but his gaze turns up sharply at the sound of wings abruptly opening and catching the wind over his head. Perhaps even a bit before.

Eyes met. And he saw something in the beast's gaze; perhaps concern, perhaps sanity or both which caused Vincent to make a split second decision. The gunman doesn't resist Blake's efforts, which might have netted them both some terrible trouble in the tangle of confusion. And he chooses to trust that sign of humanity.

Though as they land on the platform and as the beast presses against him with obvious signs of inspecting him for signs of discomfort, Vincent will sigh.

"I'm fine."

Tifa Lockhart | Final Fantasy VII Rebirth | Cerberus + Zoanthrope traits for the event!

[dolphinpunch]

1. In which Tifa is finally tired of being nice.

Option A: PVP

“I’m not going to fight-“

[Tifa starts with protesting. But she doesn’t get very far, as a spectral chain gets forced around her throat… And as a few needles find her skin. Her words get cut off as the drugs course through her system, and she gets shoved out of the holding cage and into the combat ring.

She doesn’t fight, though. Not right away. Her eyes, all of them, get blown wide open, staring and looking terrified at whatever is happening to her. Or whatever she’s seeing.]

“Stop… Burning-”

[Her blood is on fire. And she can see phantasmal flames again, coating her surroundings. All too familiar. Something she’s lived through once before… But she’s not about to cower from it. Not when every nerve screams at her to fight back.

Her joints all give a painful sounding CRACK as she gets driven to the floor. There’s blood coming from her mouth as her teeth grow too sharp, and a transformation grips her entire body. She’s looking a lot less like herself with each breath.

But she also doesn’t wait for the canine changes to finish as she lunges forward with a blood thirsty howl. There’s a berserk glow in her eyes, and a fury directed at whoever is on the other side of the chain.]

Option B: PVE

[It’s clear that the prior chained matches have taken a toll on Tifa, but she’s still getting shoved into the ring. Her manacle has shifted to a band around her arm… Though sometimes it bites uncomfortably at her skin. Her body can’t quite seem to decide if it wants to be human, or closer to a hellhound. Her skin ripples back and forth.]

“S-sorry.” [Her speech is muddled as well, and there’s a clear growl seeping into her voice.] “If I attacked you before… But I don’t think that’s what they want now. I promise I won’t hold you back from whatever we’re fighting.”

[Speaking of which, it looks like the cage is already opening. And battered as she might look, Tifa pulls out of her slump and stands up. This time she’s not fighting back the growl as her eyes narrow on the target.]

2. Hall of Mirrors
[It takes a lot of work escaping from the combat ring. And it’s clear that her time in there has done a painful number on Tifa. By the time she’s out, her first priority is to find somewhere to lay low, to recover and let the berserker drugs burn out of her system.

Her first attempt takes her past the fortune teller, but all she really has to show for that is a card, and glimmer of light along her mark.

The mirror tent looks calm and quiet at first. At least until the mirrors catch her reflection, and show multiple scenes: a village in flames, a steel sky descending and destroying another town… A decrepit reactor blurring past as she falls multiple levels, into a pool of mako below.

Tifa tries not to look at any of it. But that is easier said than done; there’s always another bit of pain to reflect, no matter where she turns. The brand over her heart is giving a baleful glow, adding extra light and vivid details to the reflections.]

“…Anyone know how to get out of here?”

[She manages to whisper that out.]

3. Bark, Bite, Breakout

[Small wonder that after all of this, Tifa is short on patience. So when a haunted speaker decides to tear a chunk out of her shoulder with its teeth, Tifa ALSO decides one thing:]

“That’s enough.”

[What follows is an angry canine snarl, a sudden explosion of fur, fangs, and claws. Then the crackling of wood, electric sparks… And unnervingly the sound of her own voice screaming. But at the end of it the speaker is violently disassembled. And Tifa is looming over it, shedding a monstrous form as she snaps her head up and sees assorted specters trying to close with her.

She doesn’t hesitate to turn around and run, drawing their attention. And just maybe, giving someone else a chance to escape as she makes for a distraction.]

“Come on: keep your eyes on me.”

[She taunts the specters: just keep on looking at her. And not on whoever is next up for a show, and just got their act and captivity interrupted.]

4. Wild Card!
((Hit me with something else!))

2

[faceguy]

[Leo's been through the ringer by now, too; he's sporting a black eye that stands out a harsh yellow against his pale green skin, and his white hair (a new feature) is slicked back by sweat, blood, and grime. They took his sword, so he's been fighting by hand, and it's starting to take a toll.

He looks over at the woman with him as he's pushed into the ring. He doesn't recognize her, but everything's been so hectic; maybe they've fought before now, maybe not. It doesn't matter when they have bigger fish to fry.

Or maybe bigger lizards, given the monstrous, dinosaur looking beast that steps out across the ring.]

No worries. [Leo widens his stance as the ground shakes under their feet.] Together we'll wreck this rex.

Vincent Valentine | Final Fantasy VII OG | Vampire (no extra)

[coffinturk]

[ ooc: Gunshop Prompt Below. No Catchall for this Month due to Event ]

I. Merry Go Round Broke Down

After a certain fortune is told, Vincent finds that chains and ropes simply can't hold him. That gives him a strong advantage; even if he ends up in a cage again, he can generally find a way to break out and extra fetters won't keep him from that.

...So it's not a surprise that he passes by the carousel frequently to see if there's some poor and unfortunate Drifter that's been caught by the machinations of the device. Freeing them would be no problem for him; he can simply leap nimbly on the device at the right time and with frightening accuracy despite the speed.

But what the condition of the person freed might be by the time Vincent gets to them is another matter entirely. Once they're helped, whether with Vincent's aid in getting clear or by themselves jumping off, there will be a soft, cautious query from the gunman, rather than abrupt departure as so many of his rescues have been.

"You okay?"


II. Defy the Ghosts of Long Forgotten Days, Here Inside the Mirror Maze

The footsteps of metal clad, armored boots are met with the sound of softer shoes. Each step by step and in perfect sync. It's not an illusion... perhaps. Or another person... maybe. As Vincent walks down the corridor of mirrors, not one of them reflects the man in his black leathers and tattered scarlet cloak. But there is one of equal height and bearing. Every pause, every breath or tilt of his head is mimicked. The reflection's physical age matches that of the pale man's. His hair is far shorter, a more kept up and practical style, though one might have an argument about how long the bangs are. He wears a dark suit, comfortable business shoes and tie; cutting a neat appearance. Though his eyes are still a fascinating shade of red, they do not seem as uncanny bright as the red cloaked figure. And his skin... it's filled with the vibrant color of someone who sees the sun.

Or still lives.

Nothing other than the patient match seems to occur; perhaps because Vincent is doing his best not to look too long into the mirrors. But this will undoubtedly change once someone else comes into the picture.


III. Finding That Perfect Spot... [Closed to Jack Russell ]

It's a plains in a valley, with a lot of bronze-colored plant life. The stark terrain would make many a person stand out in contrast. That doesn't mean there aren't options and thanks to the 'valley' part, there's hilly terrain. Even rock formations.

First, find a place clear of circus and theme park debris. Somewhere close enough to a usable water source, but not so much that monsters who needed to drink or live in the waters would pose a threat to a stronghold. Or should it rain, bring issues with flooding.

A spot that's nestled in an easily defensible location; not so much from the carnival ghosts but the real threat of monsters. After all, there will be no shields here. Vincent expects little sleep over the course of the next days. At the same time, he also knows that the rays of the sun dramatically weaken him. So something with an alcove would be nice.

There's really only one spot that's still close enough to journey between the carnival and a base of operations. The problem is that the gunman isn't the only type of person who can sus out the likely spots to find such treasures. Vincent's approach had been relatively quiet; his skills at stealth are excellent and he would be on the lookout for any monster that was using the place as a nest.

And that's why, when something- whether in the air like a scent or the feeling of another presence by natural ability or simply because of the strange additional powers the Sigil grants each of the Drifters- alerts Vincent that he's no longer alone, the gun is almost immediately in his hand like magic, turned and pointed in the direction of whomever... or whatever threatens his peace.

...And claim.

[ ooc: Later, people who end up going in and out of the base are welcome to use the base prompt in the comments for extra stories! ]

IV. Wildcard

There's a lot of places Vincent can be and do things to interject. He can even get roped in by accident in most circumstances though chain matches are probably out given his quirk for the month. XD But even those, maybe before he gets his fortune told! HMU if you want to team up for one of the circus events, have him do a drive by rescue or find him in a spot he needs to be rescued from! PM coffinturk or Plurk at maruah

Base Base... or maybe 7th Heaven... Base Mingle

[coffinturk]

Outside the range of the carnival's known impact, a small hollow has been found. Not overly far from a source of water, shielded by hilly terrain and easily defended; at least from the local monsters. In fact it's about the only spot that's nearly perfect in the area while still being close enough to conduct visits to the carnival.

Though found first by Vincent and Jack, it'll be no wonder that people will probably find their way here if they're good at figuring out the places to look for such a place, whether or not they are directed here. There's even a rocky face with something not quite deep enough to be a cave, but far enough in to label it 'good enough' for shelter; particularly for those who can't deal with the sun. Other shelters and comforts are established over time with whatever Drifters bring in.

But there's unlikely to be creature comforts, almost certainly no cars- unless people find a means of freeing theirs- and food is probably A Concern.

Still, it's something. Welcome to the Base. Maybe someone with a sense of naming will make a sign one day. Sure won't be Vincent.

Or Jack.

[ ooc: A sort of mingle thread addition for the base area, feel free to post your established changes, prompts and so forth as the event month goes on!]

Donnie // Volare!Harpy -> ??? -> Undead

[purplexing]

It's a rude awakening, not finding yourself surrounded by the private refuge of your nest, replaced instead somehow by cold, unforgiving metal and nowhere to hide. It could just be a nightmare, but then this whole world is a nightmare, isn't it?

Panic sinks its claws in deep the moment he realizes he's trapped, his more feral instincts grasping hard and not letting go, completely thrown off by this sudden development. He hisses and snaps at the ghostly handlers, his feisty spirit taken as an excellent sign of a candidate for the fight rings.


I. Battle Beasts (Husk Battle potentially into PVP)
The smell of blood is dizzying, intoxicating as it is nauseating. There's too much noise, everything grating upon his senses, only making him more agitated as he's released into he ring. His eyes dart every which way, seeking escape, only to redirect upon the shrill shriek from across the way as the almost stocky-looking wyrm starts charging across the blood-stained, packed earth.

Despite its strange bulk, the creature's head moves astonishingly fast, and it's only Donnie's speed that help him narrowly avoid those terrible teeth. By way of retaliation he's more successful, talons raking across its back as he comes around, and it would have been easy that way. He doesn't expect the electricity, the sharp jolt locking up his muscles, just long enough that the next snap of the khezu's teeth manage to catch his arm before he can fully twist away.

He doesn't see another Drifter get ushered into the ring, so momentarily blinded by the sudden pain that he crashes into the ground. The khezu stumbles around, having a hard time tracking its prey when everything smells like blood, its stubby feet nearly accidentally trampling the grounded harpy-turtle.


II. Blind to Fear (High Flying Act - Enshrouded)
It wouldn't be so stomach-turning to see the winged turtle perched up so high if it weren't for the fact that something covers his head, and more importantly, his eyes. Those familiar with the idea wouldn't be too far off to be reminded of the hood one might put on a bird of prey to cut down on stimuli, and indeed, Donnie seems a lot calmer than in his initial debut.

He seems to favor one of his wings, yet still he poises himself to make ready for flight, surveying the obstacle course that spans before him. A slow but almost elated smile starts to pull across his face despite the clear dangers, but as one looks on, it seems like somehow things become overlaid with that of a cityscape.

Razor wire becomes a near tangle of laundry lines strung between the narrow spaces between buildings, the assorted dangerous hoops, broken billboards and unrepaired signs. The illusion flickers, giving the audience a clearer view of what really lies behind the everyday scenario. Maybe it's a bit disorienting for whatever other Drifter might find themselves thrown in to join him- or maybe you're trying to keep him from getting hurt?

Whatever it is, you might want to be careful and quick, as Donnie launches himself from the precipice, eagerly threading his way through the potential death trap.


III. Peek Back
Somehow he's ended up in a cage again, but he's either too exhausted from earlier ordeals to care, or too miserable. He doesn't like being looked at, not like this. His thoughts feel so fragmented, it's been so hard to think, and here, even if it's a cage, at the very least, there's something between him and the press of spirits surrounding him.

The winged turtle keeps to the center of his confinement, tail wound around him, not wanting to be touched or poked at by the curious, ghostly hands. He's tried snapping at a few, but it hardly seems fair that his teeth touch nothing, but he can feel when those fingers grab at his feathers. There's still some defiance that he holds onto, but he's not sure what good it does him when he glares back at one of the specters and finds... something flash before his sight. Words, silver and red, reverent and overzealous, his eyes twitching like a sleeper's in REM phase as his mind latches on the words, automatically tries to read and absorb this fragment of something.

He must have jolted back at the imagery, at whatever connection had been established. His wing aches and he feels the chill of the bars behind him now. Actually, everything feels cold in general. And...off, somehow. He stares dazedly at the few loose feathers that drift along the floor of his cage. He can't see the bit of bone that's snapped off from one of the protruding spines from his shell when he'd hit the bars, or more importantly, the gaping furrows that must have been some large creature's clawmarks, marring his leathery carapace. Oddly enough, they're not bleeding...


IV. Choose Your Own Adventure
((OOC: Got something else in mind and wanna bug the boy, slam it down right here!))

Battle Beasts

[propatriamori]

Edward knows enough about ancient Rome to recognise a gladiatorial arena when one starts vibrating underfoot. It's not just the shape and general size of the arena; it's the sound of the crowd, their excitement, and the reek of blood in the air. He resists getting pushed in as best he can, but all it takes is a ghost sucker punching him in the kidneys to daze him enough to be unable to resist.

He lands on his knees, all four hands bracing his upper body, and that tells him most of what he needs to know. He's in a ring; there's a monster in it; and the monster is about to attack Donnie, who is laying prone on the ground.

It happens without him thinking about it. Even as Edward is rising, launching himself forward, he's transforming, the spider body bursting forth. Four spider legs hit the ground running, and he grabs Donnie under his arms to pull him out of the way of the beast's lumbering feet.

"Fly!"

Serph | Digital Devil Saga | Celestial (Harpy for later prompts)

[bufudine]

PvP
At first Serph is calm when he's captured and caged like the others travelling with the Convoy. He paces his cage, testing its strength when he transforms into his demon, looking for weakness, anything at all that he could exploit to get free. He's not the kind of person to needlessly waste energy on anger or rage at the situation. Unfortunately, he's not able to find escape so he resolves to try and find some kind of way out when he's released to fight.

He enters the arena in his usual celestial form, a relatively harmless looking, human-like form with 6 wings and no natural weaponry whatsoever, his hair and eyes glowing. To another Drifter who doesn't know him or to one who has been darted to induce a berserk state, he may look like an easy mark as his gaze drifts away from his opponent to look for an escape instead.

But as he gets into more and more fights, Serph's ability to fight is noticeably hindered. His normally unwavering focus slips more frequently, making him more prone to injury, his lips curling upwards to bare his teeth as he struggles to fight off the demon within that wants nothing more to devour his opponent.

He can't eat his comrades. He mustn't. He has to choose better.

[ooc: Please indicate in some way if you want Serph to be hungry in your fight with him or not :V He'll be 'normal' and a more competent combatant when he's not hungry. I'm happy for him to get all kinds of injured. He will not eat anyone who fights him (even though he wants to).]

Fortune Teller
After the surviving the harrowing ordeal of his demon starting to rampage due to starvation, Serph isn't content to sit back and convalesce. He already feels better after eating what he needs and the grim reality is that not only do they need to break out the other Drifters (the easier task) but they also need to find a way for the Convoy itself to get back onto the road.

It's only once more of their number have been freed from the carnival's clutches that he can even think of trying to explore the rest of the tents to try and find some clue to undoing the Convoy's transformation so they can continue their journey.

Having been changed into a harpy during his time in the cages, Serph paces the fairgrounds on foot rather than from the skies. While he still bears his usual six feathered wings, his arms have also transformed into wings, depriving him of working hands. So there is a distinctly grumpy look to him -- largely caused by his head changing to that of a stern falcon's -- as he stalks past tents, all his wings folded down close to his body.

Eventually, all that's left is for him to search inside the tents. But where previously he would not have hesitated, being so recently trapped and close to losing all sense of himself makes Serph pause outside the shimmering glow of the fortune teller's tent, unable to bring himself to step inside.

Will you be his emotional support buddy and come with him?

Hall of Mirrors
Still ever cautious, Serph makes sure he has someone with him as he continues to investigate the other tents for more clues. Giving a nod to the person with him, he pulls back the tent flap with his beak to reveal what lies within to his companion -- a maze of mirrors -- and only enters once they have stepped across the threshold.

As the result of his visit to the fortune teller's tent, the mirrors that catch Serph's reflection show Serph's appearance before his arrival. He was human looking then... but the armour at his abdomen is completely shattered and bloody, like someone has punched a hole through him.

Serph doesn't immediately offer up an explanation, ruffling his wings before his gaze slides away. "Do you still want to search this place?"

Wildcard!
[ooc: Got something else in mind? Happy for other options. HMU either in DM or on jesii! He can also be found at the base that Vincent has scoped out.]

Fortune Teller

[purplexing]

Moving about like someone trying not to be seen, the winged turtle's demeanor seems more akin to a wounded wild animal than anything else. His tail is curled close, and when he goes between one place and another for cover, he drops down to all fours. Sometimes he almost seems to disappear in shadows, or the shadows seem to cling to him as his appearance seems...shaggier at times, black fur erasing what there is of turtle, his head replaced by two doglike ones and a third that's nearly entirely a skull, save for the ears and the black fur that covers and joins it to the rest of its body.

He's back to his more harpy-shaped self when Serph comes near, clutching his head as he tries to calm himself down. Seeing another bird gives him pause, fear in his eyes, uncertainty in his movement as he watches. But he hasn't seen other bird-types before, and while he doesn't recognize Serph in this form, Donnie carefully uncurls from hiding, trailing after him.

The tents aren't anything he's investigated himself, for fear of being caught and thrown back into a performance, so when the falcon-headed creature hesitates at this one, the harpy-turtle looks up at him, quizzical, cautious.

Edward Courtenay | Downton Abbey | winged spider (drider gargoyle) for this event

[propatriamori]

Open Talent

Edward resists the poking, prying hands of the ghosts as much as he can, but they're insistent and endless, shoving him out onto the stage. He can hear the muttering of a crowd, but they're beyond the range of his vibrations. What he can sense, though, is what they've put out on the stage with him.

"Really?"

He walks over to the piano and sits down in front of it. It feels vaguely insulting that they assigned him this particular talent, without even asking if he knows how to play. He does (it was a rare child in his social circles back home who wasn't forced to learn some kind of instrument), but he's assuming the ghosts saw four arms and decided it meant he could play.

After a moment's pause, Edward lays his first set of hands on the keyboard. A quick ripple of scales, and then he starts playing. It starts out well enough, but then the second pair of hands lifts and joins the first, changing the tune into something much stranger than before.

Food Truck

After escaping the talent show, Edward shifts into his spider body and skitters away, up and along the rooftops of the carnival. He eventually settles in a corner, off the beaten path, where he spins a web between two pillars. He chooses not to think about how soothing the act of making a web has become, or how much better it makes him feel when the usual small, inconsequential monsters start bumbling into it. Before too long, he has more food than he can possibly eat on his own.

Which gives him another idea.

Other Drifters, if they're paying attention as they move through the fairgrounds, may notice some very distinctive, very particular spider webs, woven in various places. At first glance, they may look like normal webs, but on closer inspection, there are words woven into them, in a surprisingly neat, elegant Copperplate hand, like this is a very classy spider.

This way

Food available

No need to eat unsavoury things

If Drifters follow the webs, they'll find Edward crouched in his big web, waiting for them to arrive. He'll turn his face in their direction when they show up, and tilt his head.

"Hello. Are you hungry?"

closed to Deacon and Danse

[propatriamori]

For all that he's a former soldier, Edward isn't much of a fighter. Even with his spider body, he's not great at offence. Give him enough time to spin webs and make traps and he can hold his own, but in hand-to-hand? No. It's not his thing.

Which is why, he has no doubt, the ghosts of this carnival seized him and thrust him into the arena.

Edward crouches low, his second pair of hands near the ground as he quietly prays they didn't pair him up against someone or something with wings. When he feels his opponent's vibrations, Edward frowns and straightens up.

"Colt?"

He's not going to fight Colt! Colt is one of his friends!

Andrew Blur | Summer Sons | Cerberus

[hauntcursed]

[ooc: I'll match format to whichever you prefer! I'm good and comfy with both action and prose.]

I. Fight - Seeing Red (PVP)

[Andrew hadn't really had time to formulate an opinion about the carnival and the horrendous shrieking of twisting metal before he'd realized the stands were full of ghosts. Things only went downhill from there.

By the time he ended up in the fighting ring with someone else, he was on edge and wound tight. There was a lot of noise going on, and a lot of movement outside the arena, and though he wasn't a stranger to busy environments, the ghosts added an uncomfortable layer. So did having been called a freak.

He didn't pace, but he fidgeted, sharp claws tapping uneasily against his jeans. Heat lodged in his chest, not just anger but literal heat from how barely contained his fire breath was. Ever since it'd shown up the previous month, he'd been struggling to keep it in check. It was different than working with the presence in his bones, the cold that yearned to touch death. He'd been keeping that in check for a decade. The fire was different, closer to the surface.]

I don't think this is going to go well for either of us.

[Even saying that, the words were accompanied by sparks and a bit of smoke. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, or maybe he should use that fire for better things. Except, as his eyes darted to the side, one of the monster wranglers moving a little too quick for his comfort, he wasn't sure how that would go, either.]

II. Fight - Chained Together (PVE)

[ooc: your choice for how they're chained together! I'm good with all options.]

[He hadn't decided yet if this was better or worse than the potential of something like being chained to a husk or a monster. It was probably better, but he thought there might have been more options if he wasn't attached to someone he didn't want to hurt during the process of getting free. If he could get free. He hadn't tested, so he wasn't sure if his fire was hot enough to deal with the chain--or if his claws could cut through it.

Taking a step back, he glanced around, trying to make sure something else unpleasant wasn't about to be sprung on him and the other drifter.]

Great. Well, this is fucked. Any ideas?

III. Fair Grounds Freedom

[He finally felt like he could breathe again, now that he was out of the goddamn arena. He kept half-expecting a ghost or something to chase him down and try to haul him back, but nothing of the sort happened, and Andrew was free to wander the fair grounds. He didn't look directly at any of the ghosts, didn't acknowledge their presence, but watched them out of the corner of his eye, just in case. Also so that he wouldn't accidentally walk into or through any of them.

Doing just that, changing course and giving a group of specters a wide berth, he tucked close to the side of a carnival booth, where he realized someone else was nearby, maybe doing the same thing, maybe not.]

This place sure is something, huh?

[He muttered the words, and while he meant it in a bad way, not everything seemed bad now that he was out and about on his own.]

IV. Hall of Mirrors - cw: mirror memories contain violence and blood

[While he hadn't expected a mirror maze inside the tent he'd ducked into to avoid one of the monster wranglers he'd seen at the arena, curiosity had led to him walking in farther.

Everything was fine at first, normal, what he would expect in a hall of mirrors. Until it wasn't. Until it started showing him things from before he'd ended up here, one bleeding into another as it cycled through things. Andrew startled away from the mirrors in front of him, backing into the ones behind him.

It started with the day he and Eddie had gotten the Hellcat, both of them eighteen. The scene was silent, just like all of them would be, but they were still clear enough. Andrew in his shitty Supra and Eddie in the Hellcat, rolling up to a red light next to each other, windows down. Eddie was handsome and vibrant, dark curls and blue eyes and a sharp grin, an arm hanging out the window.

That melted into chaos, night, a party, a fight. Andrew slamming a beer bottle into a man's ribs, the both of them going down. A chaotic jumble of limbs and action, Andrew headbutting a different man and breaking his nose, Andrew getting an elbow to the jaw and going down. Scuffling, Andrew ending up on top, above one of the men before the other came up behind him, arms around his shoulders and throat, choking him.

Andrew turned away from the mirror, closing his eyes so he couldn't see when the scenes started over, looped. He laced his fingers together across the back of his neck, taking a breath.]

Fuck off. I need to get out of here.

[The problem was, he didn't know which way would get him out fastest, and he was highly tempted to do it with his eyes closed. He could use assistance.]

V. Carousel

[Stepping onto the carousel had been a mistake. If he'd only been able to realize that a little sooner, he could have avoided this mess altogether. But realizing things in time wasn't one of his strong suits. Wrecking shit, however, was--especially when combined with the panic the carousel instilled in him. His fire breath spilled out of his control, burning and weakening the restraints until he could wrench his way free. However, when the fire died down, he wasn't quite the same as he'd been before.

Rather than being human shaped when he launched himself from the carousel's sickening spinning, he was a large black dog. With the general height and overall size of a wolf or great dane, he was long-legged, all black except for red tufts of fur in his tall ears. He had four extra eyes, two more on either side, close to his regular eyes, and rather than blue, they were golden-brown.

He was somewhere between fight or flight, effects from the carousel lingering, with both the instinct to flee and the urge to bite, along with being disoriented in this new form. He paced back and forth before putting a little space between himself and the carousel, ears pricking as he listened for the noise of anything or anyone approaching. Approaching with caution might be in anyone's best interest.]

Boof?

[It was sort of a bark, but unsure, uncertain.]

VI. Fortune Teller

[The only time Andrew ever properly interacted with a ghost at the carnival was when he ducked into the fortune teller's tent, and even then, it was as 'properly' as it could be considering the ghost never spoke, and Andrew hardly did. He did his best to look over the card he was shown so he could remember the details long enough to jot them down or something, and then paid the ghostly fortune teller before he left the tent.

As soon as he was out, he got his phone out to make notes. Looking at the screen, he didn't immediately notice the flowers sprouting and blooming behind him as he walked. It was only when he was done with his notes and was sliding his phone into his back pocket that he glanced over his shoulder and saw the flowers. Frowning at them, he turned around so he was walking backwards, and watched them spring up after each step he took.]

You've gotta be kidding me.

[What was he supposed to do with flowers like this? Or maybe it was better to wonder what he was going to do about them. They seemed just like regular flowers, sprouting up in the blink of an eye thing aside, but that didn't mean he wanted them popping up. Felt like an easy way to be followed everywhere.]

IV Hall of Mirrors

[coffinturk]

[ In the mirror, a man that shouldn't be present in that past appears. A clean cut figure, dressed in a three piece suit, comfortable looking business shoes... A professional by all accounts. A lapel pin bearing what would be recognized as Japanese characters. Andrew might have heard his approach in reality.

But the figure in the mirror? While it might have nagging familiarity, the real one looks far different now. Identical in age, but skin has lost the flush of life. The hair is longer and the attire... Radically different.

But when Vincent speaks, so too does the image in the mirror. Mind the danger of looking too long upon it. ]

Lost?

Leo | Undead (+ celestial + yokai?) | OTA

[faceguy]

Thir13en Ghosts

The cage constructed to hold Leo doesn't look like much at first: a glass box inside another glass box, clear other than the runes etched into the corners.

Yet every fifteen minutes on the dot, the sides of the inner box abruptly slam together, and if Leo doesn't turn intangible, well... some quick weight loss methods really work wonders!

The boy himself has been relieved of his usual clothes, his pale skin and decimated shell on full display. Through the hole in the front of his shell, his heart is clearly visible; through the back, the rest of his organs hang as though suspended in a translucent lava lamp, rocking and swaying with Leo's movement, but ultimately staying in place. The skin on the bottom half of Leo's face is completely gone, showing his jaw in a permanent, skeletal grin, and his finger bones and toe bones are equally bare. He's sporting a few new additions, too: a long, thin white tail that ends in a puff of white fur, and long, scraggly white hair on his usually bald head.

His eyes are also icy blue, though not all Drifters may notice the difference from his usual brown.

Between attempted squishings, Leo stays toward the front of the cage, unable to phase through the outer layer of glass. Instead, he presses his hands to it, watching the people outside, giggling and making jokes as they walk past.

"Heeheehee... Why are you all shadows, anyway?" He taps the glass. "This party's looking deader than me!"

Care to approach? Or maybe you're unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him.

Chain of Fools (arena PVE)

Honestly, being suddenly hauled into an arena to fight some kind of monster is the most normal thing that's happened to Leo here.

Being chained by the wrist to someone else... less normal.

Still, Leo tries not to let his concern show. At least out here the compulsion to laugh isn't as strong, though he still lets little giggles escape his skeletal, chattering jaw.

"Sooo... believe it or not, this isn't actually my first time," he says to his chained companion. Is it comforting?

Rumble with Prime Time (arena PVP)

Of course his captors wouldn't be satisfied with only pitting him against mindless monsters - Leo soon finds himself on the opposite side of the arena from another drifter, and it's clear what they're meant to do.

"Oh, no thanks," he says to the unresponsive shadows. "This wasn't in my contract."

Apparently the shadows don't care about this, as they all clap and cheer for the combatants to begin.

David Blaine Eat Your Heart Out (center stage)

Leo loves stage magic.

He's never had to perform stage magic on the fly, though.

Now, stationed in front of an eerie, faceless crowd, Leo is left with no clear idea of what to do. There's hazards all around, of course, but he's been made to wait.

And now, the real star of the show is wheeled out: a coffin on a metal cart, and inside, another drifter, their head and hands poked out.

Leo looks down at his new companion with icy blue eyes and a permanent, skeletal grin. A rusty saw is pressed into his hands.

Oh boy...

"Uh, okay - don't worry." He flips the saw around in his palm. "I've seen this trick done... a bunch of times! So... I can figure it out!"

Lonely Moon (fair grounds)

Eventually, Leo breaks out.

Now free to roam the fair grounds, Leo spends most of his time finding dark places to sulk in. At least the sun is never out here; the only blessing he has in this place.

With no clothes to hide his monstrous form, he slinks away from people, not wanting them to see his heart literally out. And yet, after a run-in with the strange fortune teller, he finds himself increasingly lonely, desperate for connection. No matter how ugly he looks.

Other drifters may feel a prickle on the back of their necks, like they're being watched; looking for the source made lead them to Leo, keeping to the shadows but watching the others, trying to look cool even with every muscle in his body tense.

It's a very strange thing, to be filled with both the desire to be seen and the desire to be hidden at once.

[[OOC: As usual, I'll match any formatting!]]

Lonely Moon

[propatriamori]

Edward has been hanging out in the shadows as well. He doesn't trust any of this, nor his ability to be much help to anyone breaking free. The spider form has its advantages, but bold, decisive power moves are not among them. When he feels Leo's vibrations, he lets himself down from whatever he's been perched on and pads over on quiet spider feet.

He doesn't have to get too close to realise Leo's organs are exposed again.

"Leo." He says it quietly, just loud enough to get his attention. "Would you like me to wrap you up again?"

Deacon | Fallout 4 | Fae -> Lycanthrope

[facethefacts]

i. Wolves Like Us

The field is already triggering agoraphobia before anything happens. Deacon doesn't fear leaving the wienermobile, just the wide, open spaces where there's nowhere to hide or escape to. When the tent rises, he doesn't feel any better to know that he was right to be concerned. He tears himself from his seat immediately to grab for his gun and go-bag, but no sooner does he find himself running right into a set of heavy metal bars. This can't be happening.

What happens then is even more alarming. Deacon hasn't undergone too many changes since arriving in this world, outside of his eyes taking on an unusual quirk that he'd been able to hide anyway, and more recently elongated teeth, but this change is physically painful. He has a high tolerance, but the way his skin pulls and muscles shred make him shout and growl while his senses are overwhelmed. Deacon's frame is larger, claws and sharp teeth among the changes, but more notably a much heavier dusting of red hair.

ii. The Show Must Go On (PVP)

"I'm going, I'm going. Jeeze." he growls as he's pushed along into the ring. He's not used to his larger stature and so he shoulders both wranglers and cage frames alike, grunting and rubbing at his shoulder with irritation.

Deacon has seen others shoved into the ring to fight husks and other creatures, but his newly heightened senses are keenly aware that the other entity he's sharing it with is another drifter. They smell different, more alive.

"Ah, hell," he grumbles, then turns to his handlers, "I don't do hand-to-hand, you know!"

As he enters the ring, he tries his hand at using some of his usual powers, just to see what he's dealing with and formulate a plan. Smoke rolls in around his feet, curling and coiling around his ankles. It's a minor illusion that he's created, and given it worked, he may have another means to make this fight look more gruesome than it actually is. He just has to hope his opponent is game for it.

iii. Now You See Me

There is a row of hats for Deacon's perusal. It's the only thing he's immediately gotten on-board for since his arrival. He loves a good hat. His task is explained to him and he's already weaving the act together in his mind. This could be an opportunity.

When he takes the stage, he's oddly dressed in a dapper tailcoat and tophat, reminiscent of one Oswald the Outrageous back home. The sunglasses should offset the formality of the rest of it, but they seem to just add to the mystery. He waves to the cheering crowds of ghosts with a smirk, and when he speaks its with a more boastful, almost game show host quality.

"Thank you, thank you, love your spirit," he announces playfully to some groans from the crowd. "There's more of that where it came from. I'll be here all... eternity, I guess."

Deacon shoves up the sleeves of his coat. "As you can see: Nothing up my sleeves..." He takes off his hat and presents its empty inside to the crowd as he speaks. "Nothing in my hat..." He places it back onto his head, "And in the blink of an eye, nothing left but that."

Like his other illusions, Deacon pushes the hat down until it's fully engulfing his head, then shoulders, then the rest of his body, leaving nothing else on the stage. Invisibly, he creeps off to freedom, flickering into view again somewhere else amongst the crowds where he can blend in, at least until he walks face-first into another drifter.

iv. Spectrophobia

Deacon slips carefully inside of a tent to keep out of sight, but finds himself face to face with his own reflection. He grimaces, taking note of all of the changes to his body. He's used to changing his face very frequently, used to becoming someone new, but just as he'd started to perhaps get used to this last one, maybe see why someone else might appreciate it, it changes. His visage flickers, something that he's seemingly done since his arrival, the fae traits still active even if he's taken on a more lycanthropic form. He turns to leave, but only finds more reflections.

"Shit."

There's a trick to mazes, but it only really works if the maze isn't changing. He can't confirm whether or not it is, but it doesn't hurt to give the method a try. He places his left hand on the wall to his left and continues to follow that wall around every bend and corner, every dead end, weaving through the mirrors. Every now and then he thinks he catches a glimpse of his old face, or the one before it... or the one before that. He flashes back to the power plant when Danse had gotten a private screening of his most vulnerable memories from a puddle in the ground and shivers uncomfortably. Hopefully no one's around to see his greatest hits in here.

The deeper he goes, the more paranoid he feels, and the slightest noise has him pressing his weight against the wall and halting silently, waiting to see if another drifter will show themselves.

v. Round And Round We Go

The haunting sound of the calliope draws Deacon onto the carousel next, ensnaring him in it's ties until he's snarling, more wolf than man, clawing at the ground and howling until he's finally broken from his chains. All he feels is hunger, a voracious urge to hunt. Deacon has always excelled at stalking a target, but like this he's more dangerous, unpredictable, and once he has a scent, the hunt is all-consuming.

vi. Fortune Favors the Bold

Deacon comes-to behind another tent, his clothes shredded and his head pounding. Is that blood on his hands? Is it his own? He can't tell. Either way, the tent itself seems empty, and he ducks inside to gather himself together and try to form a plan. He should find his friends, find his stupidly conspicuous car, and find a way out of here once and for all.

He leans on the table, shrugging off his jacket and spotting some discarded robes draped over a nearby chair. He already feels better when he's changed, but he jumps as a ghostly apparition at the table beckons him closer to draw a card. It doesn't seem to mind him borrowing the robe, at least, but it does point to a nearby sign and expect some sort of payment. Deacon pats at the pockets of his jeans, finding his car keys which are fitted to a keychain weenie whistle, and offers the whistle to the spectre's pleasure. The card itself is meaningless to him, but he thanks them as they dissolve into nothingness again and blink out of sight.

Anyone else who enters the tent is greeted by Deacon as he takes his rest, who acts as the fortune teller himself so not to raise suspicion. He grabs a spare deck and shuffles it, gesturing to a seat.

"Your past, your present, your future," he says, dealing three cards face-down. "I know you didn't come in here to play canasta... are you ready to see what the cards have in store for you?"

vii. You Must Be This Tall To Ride

Deacon has no idea where he's going when he loses consciousness, but when he wakes, he's cuffed inside a vehicle's passenger seat. This would be more of the same bullshit and easily scoffed at, except the view outside of the windows makes him immediately panic.

"I know I didn't climb up here with my own free will..." he huffs at his fellow drifter, stressing at his chains. "Let's go down, now. Please? We can do that, right???"

iii

[purplexing]

What Donnie wouldn't give to be invisible here. Being experienced in hiding is the next best thing, but he's not completely convinced how well that works when you're surrounded by people who are barely there. His reaction to suddenly running into someone who hadn't been there a second ago should therefore be completely understandable.

He falls backwards, immediately scrambling onto all fours after the initial shock, tail curling beneath him as he looks about to bolt. At this point he still hasn't gotten the hang of whatever strange transformation's plagued him ever since being thrown into the fight rings, seeming to be stuck part-a-ways between things. Black fur covers an arm and creeps across his soft shell, but he still has wings and legs reminiscent of a bird of prey.

[insert alias here] | Person of Interest | drider

[alittlebeastliness]

03-A: High-Flying Act

[Without the Machine in her ear to guide and give instruction, Root is far from prodigious with this sort of thing. She's decently in shape and has good reflexes, but she doesn't have the level of strength, dexterity, or training that can be effortlessly shifted to a high-wire act. She's not completely out to sea: she is, after all, at least trying, gamely dodging knives that fly her way and hoisting herself up onto platforms that swing towards her, working herself higher and higher, making her way along the metaphorical path that will lead across the stage and, hopefully, to freedom. But she's certainly not the most impressive performer who will be appearing onstage today, nor is she as good as she knows she could be, if her brain weren't woefully empty and untethered to her other half.

And if that's not enough, as if to make a mockery of her situation, she is supposed to be working with a partner: there's someone else up here with her, another flesh-and-blood person with whom she's intended to coordinate to put on a good show. Except they're too far away to properly communicate with, and she doesn't know them (or barely knows them), and they're meaningless to her, and--

Whoever they are, wherever on the obstacle course they are, they're lucky (?) enough to be the recipient of Root's first hint of transformation. She's not directing it at them purposefully - but they'll feel the sudden burst of frustrated mental energy all the same.]

02-A: Husk Battle (+ optional 02-C: Chained Match) + 04: Enshroud

[As the gauzy blindfold is tied around her head and the familiar ping sounds in her ear, Root nearly falls to her knees in relief. The Machine can't actually hear her thoughts, but she knows that She'll understand them without her having to voice it: She'll assess her biometrics and be able to pick up on her elevated heart rate and hitching breath, and She'll know exactly what that means.]

Everything's fine now.

[She says, to whoever is standing next to her - maybe chained to her, maybe not - as they await whatever monster is headed their way. As opposed to her nervous energy mere seconds ago, her body language is now loose and relaxed, her voice calm and confident. They won't be able to hear what's changed for her - the sound exists only in her cochlear implant - but the effects of it will be clear as day.]

We're going to be fine; just follow my lead.

[Another gentle tone nudges her to look upwards and to her left, its pitch ascending as she scans the crowd. It guides her a little more to the left, then up a few rows-- until she locks eyes with a familiar face.

This time, she really does fall to her knees, her eyes tearing up as she cries out in a choked voice:]

Sameen!

[Better pull yourself together, Root: the door to one of those monster cages is sliding open.]

husk battle

[propatriamori]

[Edward swats at the blindfold the ghosts are attempting to tie around his eyes.]

That's entirely unnecessary. It will do nothing.

[They're insistent, though, and one chatters at him angrily while another holds his hands down. Edward cringes from the hands on his face--even now, nearly a year after his injury, he doesn't like anyone touching his face--but accepts the blindfold.]

Ridiculous. You've just wasted your time and mine.

[He's in his spider form, four long spindly legs and four human arms, and ushered down a corridor. The ghosts bring someone into step beside him, and Edward can tell it's a young woman, but not someone he's met before. He quiets down when she speaks, and her voice is full of that uniquely American confidence he's gotten so used to here.]

As you say, miss.

[Of course, as soon as they get into the ring, she falls to her knees and cries out, and it doesn't take Edward's vibrations to hear the anguish in her voice and posture. He can't sense too far into the crowd, but they all seem like ghosts to him.]

[He leans down and puts one hand on her elbow, the other on her shoulder.]

Get up. Get up, miss. There's going to be a monster in here with us very soon and I can't save you on my own.

Maggie Rhee | The Walking Dead: Dead City

[cantgetoverit]

1 - Battle - T-Rexaur

[This is the absolute last place Maggie wants to be - a bloody ring in a tent, fire, ice, lights, and ghostly spectators in the stands.

She glances around, furious, and manages a small nod of acknowledgement when she realizes it's another Drifter she's found herself in here with.]

You good?

[She sidles closer, looking around for an escape route when a roar catches her attention.]

What was that?

2 - Fairgrounds/Carousel

[Maggie finds herself wandering the grounds after managing to escape the arena. Cautiously, at first, until she realizes the spectres really don't seem to take much notice. It's a good opportunity to do a little recon and to try to figure out a way out.

Better to find a way out sooner rather than later, under the circumstances. She does not want to end up back in the arena again, or any other sort of forced performance. It's beyond intolerable.

She can be found wandering anywhere on the grounds, either trying to avoid being spotted by the attendees or casually roaming once she realizes they're not going to interfere.

She can be found later as well, once the sound of the haunted calliope playing at the centre of the carousel draws her in. It's tempting to climb onto the platform, but the hesitation lies in knowing instinctively it's a bad idea. It's far too easy a place to be cornered, nor would the ride do anything to further her goal of finding a way to help the convoy escape the circus all together.

Still, it's difficult to pull her attention away from it, and the longer she lingers, the more the temptation to climb on board grows.]

3 - PVP

[She is fully transformed the second time she finds herself back in the arena. Transformed, and enraged, either because she gave in and hopped on the carousel, or from a well placed dart from one of the wranglers on the sidelines.

Maggie's canine form is large - far larger than any dog ought to be - and covered with thick, dark hair except for her exposed skull with its deep set, glowing red eyes. Sharp claws dig into the sand as she braces herself to attack.

The urge to fight is overwhelming, and she is not terribly fussed about who or what the target is at this point, she is so filled with rage. She lets out a deep snarl as another Drifter is shoved into the arena with her, preparing to charge at them.]

4 - Breakout

[Late in the month, escape becomes more of a priority, even in the absence of the most well thought out of plans. She is unsure how to break the hold the carnival has over the convoy, but at the very least, she is sure she can cause enough chaos to make it unpleasant for those trying to hold them.

Her primary goal is to free as many of the other Drifters as she possibly can by opening up any of the cages that she can. She stops just short of releasing the other monsters, though, her concern that they may rampage through and not just cause problems for the specters, but for her allies as well.

Finally an idea hits as she unlatches one of the cages and opens up, and she gestures for whoever's inside to come on out.]

Hey, maybe we can collapse the big tent and, if not stop this altogether, at least slow them down.

1

[saisdoesmatter]

*this whole thing is absolute lunacy to him - one minute the convoy's fine and dandy, the next the lot of them have somehow ended up in this circus of hell*

*he's just as pissed off as her, acknowledging her with a nod as she shuffles over*

M'fine. Just ready to smash some heads in. You?

*the roar that echoes from another side of the tent though makes him go still to listen*

...that doesn't sound good.

Jack Russell | Werewolf By Night | Yokai

[wereperrito]

I. Failed fight

Their ghostly captors first attempt to make the fox-man fight, but nothing they do can make him do more than bolt around the ring, dodging all attacks, occasionally dropping little zaps of lightning or phantom fire in his wake, until the crowd is bored and the opponent frustrated.

Maybe you're watching and want to lend a hand, maybe you're his opponent. Maybe you're just laughing at the show, almost slapstick in its ridiculousness.


II. Light show

The circus finally finds a job he'll actually do, which is putting that lightning, phantom fire, and a touch of his illusion magic to use. He gets shunted to a smaller ring, where he sends colorful flits of flame and electricity around the air around him in delicate patterns.

It's exhausting and takes more concentration than he's used to bringing to bear on pretty much anything, but it keeps him from having to somehow avoid getting killed in the fighting rings, so he'll do it. At least until he figures out how to get out of here.


III. Fleeing the cages

On his way to and from his cage, from the shows, he manages to filch some iron scraps, which he files down to tiny picks in his cage at night between catnaps. When he's ready, he leaves an illusion of himself behind in the cage, picks the lock, and slips out.

Anyone in the same cage-tent as him, he'll pause to pick their locks, too, but he's really looking for Serph, John, and Heat. He can't hold illusions for anyone other than himself, back in his cage, he's simply not that good, but he does his best to be sneaky about it at least.


IV. At camp

Once Serph and the others are out, he sticks close to the camp he and Vincent both found at the same time, laying traps for game (or wandering circus folk) and ferrying water from the nearest creak. He sneaks close enough to the circus to steal fabric so he can repair people's clothes. He cooks over the small fire, or wrapped in banked coals.

And he's encouraging. "We will find a way to get the rest out," he tells anyone who looks down. "We will find new cars if we must. We still have each other. It will work out."


V. Cautious exploring

After a few days of relative safety, Jack starts sneaking back to the circus, wearing an illusion for a few days but then just... himself, as he realizes that if he's not in a cage, none of the "circus goers" seem to realize he's the same person who had been putting on that show just last week.

He pokes at the carnival games, he samples the food cautiously, he watches what shows remain, and he tries to sneak people out if he can. He might throw a little illusion into a fight to throw off a monster trying to hurt one of the people he knows from the convoy, or he might drift up to cages to check inside if he's someone he recognizes.

And then he'll offer, "I can get you out of here," if he thinks he can.

III

[solitarysoul]

Levi, sporting a unicorn horn, ears and tail, shifts in his cage as Jack nears. One ear flicks towards the fox-man and he raises his head from his knees then pauses in shock. That was another Drifter! All his attempts to break or slip through the bars had failed but Jack clearly found another way.

He waves a hand, quietly trying to get the other man's attention. "Hey!" he whispers, and the horn on his head starts a slow pulsating glow.

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 Royal | Chimera/Nekomata (w/ some celestial event traits, ooo)

[undyingcrow]

1. Something Wrong

[It all happens too fast. Much, much too fast. One moment, Akechi's riding his motorcycle. The next, he's trapped, suspended in a cage. In a roar of fury, he cries out:]

HEREWARD!

[With an explosion of Megidolaon, the cage bursts open, scattering shrapnel. His wings flare open, and he lands with a feral snarl in his cougar-like nekomata form. Somehow this draws gasps, oohs, and ahhs from the spectating spirits.

At first, he snarls, snout wrinkled and ears folded back. His fur bristles, his claws come out...

But something about the gaze of the spirits cuts through his rage. He's not sure why, but an unusual urge builds. He needs to find the others. He needs to protect them.

Suddenly, his attention pulls away from the spectators, and he finds himself drawn to the cages and tents housing his fellow drifters.

Far less jaded than usual, he asks:]

Do you need some help?

[Those used to Akechi may find it odd how... gentle he sounds.]

2. Chained Match

[Somehow, despite his best efforts, Akechi's ended up chained to another Drifter. At least in his Nekomata form, he has an odd sense of clarity suppressing the rage that would otherwise blaze inside him. He could change at any time, of course. Perhaps they'll need fire, or water, or ice, or some talent he lacks in his present state.

For now, he lets out a slow sigh, glancing at his fellow "teammate."]

We should try to fight smarter, not harder. If we can't break the chains, perhaps our enemies can...

3. Open Talent

[Once Akechi escapes from the combat arena, an idea dawns upon him. He's a Persona user. He can shift between monster forms, and his Nekomata form has gained a new temperament and, more importantly, abilities.

If he can draw the crowd's attention, perhaps he can use it to his advantage, so he takes to the spotlight with a grin, bowing to the crowd.]

You say you enjoy freaks? Well, thus far, there's only one amongst us like me!

[Springing into the air, he takes off like a rocket, flipping and twirling, and shifting back to his chimera form mid-barrel roll.

The moment he changes, that rage erupts within him. The rage brews so strongly that his face, human despite the feathered coating, shifts into something far more beastly. A sharped, hooked snout erupts, ending with a hard tip. His lips curl back to reveal even more sharp teeth in his elongated maw.]

Ah... so this is how it is.

[He laughs, wild and unhinged, before calling Hereward to his side.]

Well then! Behold a power beyond this world!

[With a solemn nod, Hereward fires an arrow, unleashing yet another Megidolaon that envelopes the tent in dazzling light.]

Go, now!

[He shouts to any Drifters nearby, while the glow from his spell blocks the view. Amidst that light, he shifts back into his Nekomata form and then, with a soft breath, reaches out. Illusionary abilities mask his monstrous form, replacing his more feline appearance with something... decidedly human.

Whether or not the nearby Drifters took this chance to flee the tent, it seems the extravagance of the display earned a showering of petals...

And so, for now, Akechi takes his leave to...]

4. Fair Grounds

[Still masked in a human disguise, Akechi wanders the grounds warily. As a Nekomata, he still feels the odd compulsion to aid and protect. This seems... unnatural. He realizes that now. Almost like he's being forced into the mask of the Detective Prince once more...

But whatever changes to his demeanor have beset him, one thing is clear: they need to investigate the grounds, find the weak points, and plan an escape.

So, with calm composure, he smiles and waves at the spirits, while scanning the area for his fellow Drifters.

Once he spots a familiar face, he makes a swift approach, bringing a finger to his lips and waving behind one of the nearby stands.]

It's Akechi. I'm merely... attempting to keep a low profile at the moment.

[...]

Do you require healing?

[Yet again, the words come too gently. Too naturally. It's unsettling, even to him.]

5. Fortune Teller

[In search for answers, Akechi steps into the fortune teller's sent. Needing a break from the persistent desire to be "good" and "pure," he's returned to his chimeric form. For now, the spirits haven't pestered him since his dramatic exit. Perhaps to them, he "earned" it.

Regardless, his eyes widen when the cards display their vision. Robed cultists, silver tear marks on their faces, offering blood to the moon... Black ichor leaking from the heavens, the world breaking... A glimmer of regret before the words 'Midnight Impact' materialize...

And when it's done, Akechi's left with an odd glow in his eyes. A subtle cracking texture marrs his feathers...

He stumbles out of the tent, touching his cheek, with his ears folded back.]

I... I see. So that was the Midnight Impact...

[In the dark of the night, he can't help but laugh.]

6. Wild Card

[Open to other scenarios, too! Akechi will be thoroughly investigating the grounds and trying to help people.]

[ooc: Happy to do prose instead of brackets!

2. Chained match

[bufudine]

Unfortunately for Akechi, Serph's only half listening, which is perhaps the first sign that something's wrong. Unlike the others, Serph had only been brought out to fight other Drifters... which means he's had nothing to devour since his entrapment.

The gnawing hunger that's his constant companion has only grown stronger and the faintly glowing brand on Serph's face flickers as he fights Varuna for control.

"Or we make them separate us." Serph's end of the chain encircles his wrist, links rattling as he digs his fingers into his shoulder in an attempt to use pain to distract from Varuna's hunger. His wings twitch as they furl over him and his lip curls up into an uncharacteristic growl. "Akechi. I... may become a danger to you."

Negan Smith | The Walking Dead: Dead City

[swingandwhistle]

[ Fair Grounds ]

[ Getting away from the damn cage had been a hell of feat. However, he was someone who normally got what he wanted, even if he was hurt in the process. Not that he was too worried about that. He also knew that he needed to get a lay of the land.

Doing so has him taking note of specters that were drifting around and his eyes narrow slightly. They didn't seem to be paying anyone any attention, but he didn't trust it. So, he's keeping an eye out even as he roams around the fairgrounds.

If trouble does find him then he'll be ready for a fight. Whatever it is can meet Lucille 2.0. ]


[ Freak and Peek ]

[ Being trapped in a cage has him giving a low growl. Was he going to acknowledge the growl? No, he wasn't. He'll never acknowledge the less than human growl. That doesn't mean that he doesn't take note of the specter. Doesn't lose himself in the spirit's eyes.

There was something there he didn't know or recognize. Why would he? A world filled with vibrant colors. Roses, food. Anything that a Drifter's heart could desire. Of course, he'd noticed the statues too. How the people avoided them and stuck to the natural landscape.

Of course, the last thing he sees is the land corrupted. And in that darkened place, in that cage a bright light illuminates out of him and around him, before it dulls down and allows anyone near him to see in the dark. ]


[ Bark and Bite ]

[ Going around the fairground he notices the electronic arrangement. Who wouldn't? Of course, he doesn't expect for the damn thing to try and take a chunk out of him. Something that has him hitting the button on Lucille causing an electric current to slip through. ]

What the hell do you think you're doing?

[ The damn thing seems to screech before aiming to bite him again causing him to jerk back. Whether it tasted blood or not... well, that was anyone's guess. Or maybe it got a hold of someone close to him. Either way, if it came down to it he'd smash the damn thing for trying to take a chunk out of him. ]


[ Wildcard ]

[ See something else, toss it at me. I'll follow along. ]

Bark and Bite

[hauntcursed]

[The sound of the speaker in all its obnoxious, bloodthirsty glory was more than enough to snag Andrew's attention, even if he didn't quite look like himself at the moment. Recognizing Negan's voice alongside the horrible speaker noises had a large black dog barreling in towards the speaker. He was the general size of a wolf or great dane, legs a touch too long to be normal, tufts of red fur in his tall ears. And four extra eyes, two more on each side of his face, all of them golden-brown rather than his usual blue.

He hit the speaker full force, mouth open to get his teeth in it, and tumbled head over tail with it for a moment or two. Judging his own speed and momentum with four legs wasn't something he'd gotten the hang of yet. The speaker tried to bite him even when he was still tumbling, and he bit it right back, wrenching at least one decent chunk out of it before it tried to take a chunk out of him. He didn't think it broke skin when it did its best to clamp down on one of his forelegs, but he wasn't going to stop and check, just yank his leg back and bite the damn thing again for good measure.

It didn't have legs itself, so he was hoping it wouldn't have some way to come back at them again, since it wasn't dead. If it did, he could help ensure it'd regret that choice.

The downside to things was that he couldn't talk like this, and he hadn't changed back since he'd ended up with four legs--he'd just managed to work through some of the fight or flight from the fucked up carousel. He had no real concept of how intimidating he was or wasn't, so when he turned all six eyes to Negan in an unblinking stare, he wagged his tail, just once.]

Faith Lehane | Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel | Dullahan (+Kitsune for the event)

[thegoodslayer]

I. Before I was afflicted I went astray

[When the carnival changes hit, Faith isn't one of the ones in the cages- or even in the arena, surprisingly. No, she's one of the big top acts. Her head is detached, as it usually is at night, but it's also got a distinctive mask as part of her unusual red and white costume- a euphoria inducing shroud. As a result, she seems to have forgotten where she's supposed to be entirely, and is enthusiastically embracing her status as some sort of demented juggler. Torches? Knives? Her own severed head? Well, hey, you can't deny, it's a hell of an act.

She might be wandering around the big top doing light work as a preview, or she might even be thrown into your act to add some stakes to your own performance by adding some airborne blades or fire to the act. She doesn't seem to see a problem with this plan.]

II. I have been a stranger in a strange land

[Eventually, Faith does get free of the masks and the stage and come to her senses- probably with some help- she'll be walking the carnival grounds trying to help get the others out. Unfortunately, she's not really much of a strategic thinker or planner, so this might be a little hard for her to pull off without somebody else's help.

She'll try to blend and not attract attention, so she may poke at some of the attractions or try to do the juggling schtick to avoid any untoward or hostile gazes. If anything spooks her, she may duck into the Hall of Mirrors to hide, unaware of its quirky side effects. You might just run into her in there.]

III. Wildcard!

(Don't see anything you like? Have something specific in mind? Feel free to hit me up in DMs or on plurk at yonfellow)

II

[undyingcrow]

[It's in the Hall of Mirrors that Akechi spots Faith, currently garbed in his nekomata form's illusory magic, appearing wholly human.

Though, it really is just smoke and mirrors.

Nonetheless, he approaches calmly, trying not to heed the reflections he sees.]

Quite the predicament, isn't it? What would make a thrilling film is far more irritating to live through.

zack fair | final fantasy vii: crisis core | gargoyle + centaur

[soldiernoclass]

001. fair grounds

[ One good thing about suddenly having four legs - it's waaay easier to bust the lock clean off a metal cage, with a few well-placed kicks. Not that it didn't take some practice. (It took some practice just to stand up, like this, the extra legs and body mass a confusingly unbalanced mess, at first.) 

Now that he's out among the booths and tents along the fairway, Zack's starting to get used to it. It helps, maybe, that he's already accustomed to getting looks in public (usually from people, not ghosts, but the feeling's pretty similar), so he doesn't mind so much, the gawking or requests for some kind of passing performance. He doesn't have so much pride as to prefer being forced into the ring to playing wandering entertainment for a while. At least it means he can have a little freedom. 

And he's quick to step in and distract from other drifters, if they look a little too crowded or uncomfortable with the demands. Stomping on the ground hard enough to start a little, localized earthquake is a pretty good entertainer, he's found, and he drops both front hooves hard enough to rattle the carefully stacked pyramids of bottles in a nearby game booth right to the ground, as he butts into a small crowd. (Not hard to do, when most of the bodies are spectral and incorporeal.) The interruption gets a small scattering of amused, startled screams and applause, before the crowd starts to break up around the drifter they had cornered.

Zack's tail - lizard-like and ridged and not at all a match for the black and white striped horse-like body he's standing on - lashes behind him, snagging one of those upended bottles as it rolls out from under its booth and tossing it back toward the annoyed looking specter resetting the rest. ]

Hey. You good?

002. roller race track

[ Ordinarily, he'd be stoked to see a real rollercoaster. But this is not the kind of excitement he was looking for, winding up chained to his own vehicle, already bolted to the tracks. 

He jerks away from the imposingly large mechanical chocobo as a shock of electricity runs down the track underfoot, narrowly avoiding the surge— And realizes he's not the only one caught at the end of this chain. ]

Looks like we're going for a ride whether we like it or not, huh? 

[ This is not the kind of chocobo race he would've liked. But at least he's back on two legs again, so that won't be a problem. Silver linings. ]

fair grounds, time to hustle these ghost carnies

[propatriamori]

[Now that's different.]

Hello, Zack.

[Who certainly didn't have a horse body the last time Edward saw him, but then again, Edward hadn't been in his full spider form either. He gestures at his own spider half, then at Zack's horse body.]

We match today, it seems.

arcade gannon | fallout: new vegas | naga

[taediosum]

i. magic act

[ Being thrown from a cage into the middle ring of what looks like a bizarre shooting range - not Arcade's idea of a good time. (Though none of this is, to be fair.) The first few mechanical creatures and sharp objects lobbed at him out of the darkness are a shock, barely avoided or dispatched with. 

The last few? Well, by the time someone else stumbles on the act, whether part of the audience or more fodder for it, the ring is riddled with razor sharp spikes of shimmering ice. Water pools across the ground from one of those tanks, the glass shattered around his feet. He looks exhausted on the verge of collapse, bloodied, but the next thing to startle him - whether a drifter or another throwing knife lobbed in his direction - is getting a volley of icy needles launched out of those puddles and directly toward them. ]

ii. open talent [ cw: implied/potential medical horror ]

[ This tent is a little different from the others, a little more cramped, close quarters emphasized by cold, white lights blaring away rather than the hot spotlight or colorful, flashing backdrop. It's like a little operating theater, actually, and the table set up center stage (complete with suspicious red stains baked into its pockmarked wood) only underlines that stark first impression. 

Arcade doesn't help dispel it, either, dirty white labcoat practically alight, gleaming scalpel clutched in one of his four hands where he stands on the far side of that table. But with all of those fights going on, well— Someone has to clean up after. And why not make a spectacle of that, too? 

Though, of course, the specters running the show aren't exactly picky. The drifter they shove into the tent with him may or may not actually be injured and in need of patching up. But they'll still be expecting a show. ]

ii

[androidvictoriam]

[ Well, the first patient they force on him isn't just there for show. And it's already something of a spectacle, because while Danse is still mobile as he clutches at the deep bear-claw gashes that have soaked his clothing through with blood, he looks fully exsanguinated already. Gone are any of his usual lupine features, but he has an uncanny corpselike pallor in their place and eyes as red as the gore dripping through his fingers. The overall effect is just the kind of drama the assembled onlookers want, and probably not as bad as it looks.

Maybe. He staggers before he can quite make it to the table, trying to catch himself on the back of one of the specters' seats and getting pushed roughly and rudely forward for his troubles. ]

Told them I didn't want their damn medic--I didn't realize they meant you.

Sephiroth | Final Fantasy Vii | Temp Sphinx / Occasionally Chimera

[firstsoldier]

What Should Have Been A Husk Battle

The point had been very obviously to incite performance in the captives; Sephiroth had found himself finally plagued with the radical changes everyone else dealt with month after month, now very much looking like the sphinxes that so recently were a problem with silverwhite-furred leonine body, black wings, and an absolutely terrible temper.

Locked into the arena cages with another Drifter, with a growling, pacing burning hellhound in the other cages, it's obvious they're meant to fight. "...To hell with this."

As soon as the cage's doors actually open, the chimera-turned-sphinx turns right around and lunges not for the enemy provided them but the bars of the arena's barriers themselves, claws hooked, turning his unnatural strength on the solid steel, which shrieks under the pressure, twisting slowly open.

He's GOING to find a way out, assuming that fast-closing hellhound doesn't get to him first. A little help?

Not Quite PVP

Being subdued and returned to the cages did absolutely nothing to help Sephiroth's mood.

The darts to induce berserk rage are fantastically effective, the surge of bloodlust and instinct overriding the sphinx-shape long enough for him to reclaim the monstrous chimeric transformation he usually had, a two ton monstrosity that looks remarkably like a black feathered, very angry dinosaur.

Which immediately charges the bars of the arena again, roaring fury, focused entirely on the monster wranglers outside and not the opponent trapped with him. The arena bars shudder under the impact, and by the gasps and shouts from the phantasmal crowd, this is the exact sort of exciting they're hoping for.

Distraction can be an absolute terrible thing, if his designated opponent chooses to take advantage and attack while the chimera tears at the bars and scrabbles to try to reach the ghostly wranglers instead of a more immediate target of another Drifter.

Chaos Magic Act

It is SURELY intended that in the middle of setup for a magic act with multiple rings of fire and hazards of flying, tiny phoenixes of white-hot flame and razor talons, that suddenly there is an unthinkingly furious chimera skidding into the middle of it all. It matches the theme of flame and sharp-clawed hazards, when it draws itself up and blasts the area in fiery breath.

The shouting and distant pursuit of monster wrangler ghosts suggests maybe this isn't supposed to be happening though.

Closed to Cloud: Jurassic Carnival

Sephiroth is just one part of a series of escalating efforts of carnival captives to get out. He's torn his way out of cages, only to be caught and subdued, time and time again.

They're getting better at keeping him contained now. Relocated to where the freak show for ghosts to stare and whisper, the chimera currently chained down and muzzled has been working on getting loose for a little while now and making no headway simply because the wranglers have figured out how to remove his leverage advantage; he can't get feet under him, can't get his teeth around to bite and even the little snorts of flame are pointed away from anything that could help him get loose. It doesn't keep the black-feathered shape from thrashing and growling, but getting out has suddenly become much more difficult.

It's still a good show for the watching specters.

[WILDCARD: This is 90% for sheer Jurassic Park-esque pseudo dinosaur rampaging shenanigans, but I am open to other things as well! Sephiroth will be spending most of this, but not all of it, in his chimeric alt-form, which does in fact look a whole lot like a black and tan yutyrannus, for. reasons. Want to wrangle a dinosaur? Feel free! He's pretty good at recognizing other convoy members at this point but not .... always. Also options for dealing with him while NOT two tons of murderous wrathbeast; he's spending those periods as a very stereotypical sphinx, and a bit annoyed about the loss of his thumbs.]

Time to Wreck Stuff!!!

[cloudsenior]

Sephiroth might have been able to sense someone lurking around in the shadows, though with the way he was chained down, he wouldn't have been able to get a good look at who it was. At least, not until the gawking ghosts moved on to other transformed drifters, and the person finally crept out of his hiding place.

Cloud had seen Sephiroth's initial transformation during the panic escape he made, and then saw him transform again when he had made one of his runs to try and pull someone out. Any other time he tried to get in, Sephiroth was always being watched or being captured again, not giving him a good opportunity to get to the dinosaur-like SOLDIER until now.

He came up to Sephiroth's side, looking up to the eye on this side of the creature, making sure he could see him. Cloud pressed a finger to his lips, urging him to stay silent, before he got to work removing the muzzle.

Raphael Hamato | TMNT 2012 | Demon > Thri-Kreen > ???

[saisdoesmatter]

When you're one of the 'lucky' not yet transformed members of the convoy, the circus's entrapment certainly seems to be focusing on the fact that someone like him doesn't seem to have monster traits. Nothing beyond the Infernal mark he has on his thigh. That is before he's snagged from the convoy along with the rest of the group and...

[01 - Carousel Carnage] [cw: bug transformation/phobia of bugs]

This twisted carnival was bad enough - a sort of horrific fever dream of people being put on display. He might have managed to slip a captor or two, only to scramble to try and put some distance between him and them by darting into the throngs by the so-called rides.

What he didn't expect was the fact that even the carousel was a trap. After getting yanked right off his feet and put on display for the spinning ride that made his head ache, the turtle mutant probably swore his head off while trying to get out of the damned harness and ties before he was breaking out in a sweat. His vision swum despite the spinning - the colors of the world around him way too bright and making his eyes hurt, leaving him disoriented and dazed for some time.

At least until the first sickening crunch of bone resetting at his calves pulled screams from him as his legs shifted and reformed, starting the process of the insectoid form taking over. Distracted from his escape attempt by the sheer horror of his lower half starting to gain what looked like chitinous plating, Raph's terrified screams echo the area as his fingers elongate and snap into claws.

"N-nononononono--!!!"

[02 - All In The Cards]

*while bolting from captors, he somehow ends up in the Fortune Teller's tent in a last ditch attempt to shake them. The teller, who gestures to a stool, quirks his interest enough to at least glance at the sign before mentally going 'yeah alright' and plays along to hopefully get the ghouls off his trail for the time being*

*he doesn't really have money though, so when the teller wants something in exchange, he's snagging a candle to drip wax on some bit of cloth - quickly using his thumb to 'draw' a little blip of mountain and the moon over it. People revered the moon here - and to his surprise, they peel it from the cloth when it is cool enough and turn over a card - The Cleansing*

...wait, that looks like some of the sigils I've seen... does that mean those who have these could possibly help revert people back?

*of course, he doesn't get an answer, so he has that information to share as his turn is basically over and another it going to take his place - letting him start to leave the tent and immediately run into another curious Drifter with a oof! He stiffens, snagging them and tugging them into the dim lit tent to check for the crazy circus crew*

Are they gone? Did they follow you here?

[Wildcard]

[Don't see something you like but have an idea? Throw it at me.]

[OOC: I tag match so tag however you like and I'll follow your lead.]

carousel

[purplexing]

It all feels like a bad dream, and Donnie can only wish it were true. He's been so off-centered ever since they'd awoken in the middle of a nightmare circus, and he hates that no matter how far he tries to get away from things, he always seems to somehow end up within the carnival grounds.

For the time being, he's been left alone, about the only good thing he can think about the present, though he still steers clear of the larger tents. Mostly he seems to just drift along, knowing vaguely that he should be looking for something, but it's been hard to focus, the target easily slipping away from his mind.

The music's lured him again, and it's in a daze he finds himself drawn back to the carousel. (This too is a vague memory, something drenched in red and steeped in metallic odors.) It's the screams that snap him out of the trance that would've pulled him further in, and he tries to place the voice until he sees it- the blur of green and red.

His instincts are still strong, or made stronger for the feral beasts that wrestle with his mind and form. He gasps as he doubles over, pain always heralding such shifts, but this time it's brief and forgotten as he bolts forwards on all fours, pausing at the spinning trap as several pairs of glowing eyes track its rotation, seeking its target.

Wings beating to give him lift, it's a winged, three-headed canine with the hindquarters of a bird that take flight, flying around the carousel until it matches speed, coming alongside the entrapped turtle. Talons grasp onto one of the outer poles, skull-like heads snapping at the bindings that attempt to catch him, but he knows this time, and unlike before, he has someone he needs to look out for.

Levi | Fear & Hunger 2: Termina | Infernal/Celestial/Drakonis

[solitarysoul]

03-C/04 CW: Body horror to varying degrees with every single one of these links
Levi doesn't have many talents he can show off, and a normal sharpshooting show isn't all that interesting. Fortunately(?!) the ring master has thought of that and gifted Levi with what appears to be a handkerchief just draped on his head, covering his eyes. Before the show starts he just stands there, completely stiff as if attention and holding a rifle. He's been placed on a platform atop a pole about ten feet from the ground and he slowly turns, surveying ruined town that he (and you, the audience) sees around him. He's actually terrified but the only tell of that is his doggy ears being pulled back against his head, otherwise he's the normal stoic he appears as during battles.

At first they only appear one by one, strangely deformed humans popping up as targets within the town. Levi downs each one, no matter how far away, with one shot. The relative calm doesn't last long, because that's boring, and the targets shift to moving ones, shambling or rushing towards him. Levi handles these quickly too, though when a pig-headed man appears he hesitates. With this vile creature he doesn't shoot right away, waiting until it nears and he can take aim at the canister it holds. That he shoots, releasing white smoke that rises from the hole as the creature pauses and tries to find a way to cover the hole. Then its down in two more shots, one to a leg and then a headshot between those piggy eyes.

From there it picks up the pace with more grotesque creatures. Dogs and dog-like things rush him as strange creatures lurk around the buildings. One rock-like being manages to make it to the platform and destabilize it before Levi manages to take it out.

With his perch unsafe, Levi drops to the ground just in time for the grand finale. As he hits the ground a coffin bursts open and a masked man welding two blades climbs out. Levi backs away, eyes widening as he shoots one of the thing's arms off with a single shot. But it doesn't seem to notice as it rushes at him with its remaining blade.


((You can feel free to pop in to help at any point during the show or the fight with the final boss. Other canon enemies (NSFW but that list is at least pixelated (except Bellend. There's no censoring Bellend.) Body horror warning also persists.) may pop up as well!))


05
Eventually, Levi manages to get out of the cages, though he's changed a bit since then. His back dog ears have been replaced with white horse ears, he's got a spiral horn sticking out of his forehead, a white lion-like tail and seems to emit a soft golden glow. He's (mostly) giving the rides a wide berth but stops by to examine the carnival games and food booths. He's not sure about the food offered but when hunger finally drives him to get a Something-on-a-Stick he steps away from the stand a pokes at it. To his surprise his horn glows as the food he touches glows a soft gold for a moment. When it fades the thing seems to look more edible. Interesting.

Later on he can be found standing near one of the shooting galleries, eyeing the targets and the guns as other people try their hands at it. Its rigged, of course, but he's pretty sure he can figure out a way to counter-act that. Though he's unsure what he'd do with the huge plushies or other prizes displayed. Perhaps you would like one?


05-C
The carousel, at least, seems like a safe ride. Or it did, when Levi sat upon a golden unicorn to give his feet a rest. Of course the peace and relaxation doesn't last as ghostly shackles snap on him immediately. He struggles against them as the ride speeds up. He snaps and snarls, body shifting into a somewhat familiar form as he rages. Hopefully he'll get out before the carnival has a raging dragon on its hands.

((Levi can also be found as a non-raging dragon thing wandering the carnival later too, if you'd prefer that one))


0? - Wildcard
Other ideas? Throw them at me or hit me up at ConnectiveTrick or nvrknwsbst on discord

05-A For Edward; CW: War, Trench Warfare, Child Soilders

[solitarysoul]

Levi did not want to enter the hall of mirrors. He just wanted to see what was in the tent but when he turned to go there was only a mirror behind him. So he wanders the halls, seeking a way out and doing his best to avoid looking at the horrors that the mirrors reflect.

Cloud Strife | Final Fantasy VII | Cerberus

[cloudsenior]

[Monster Shift]
[Cloud had been suspicious of this place the moment the Convoy came to a stop; random strips of fabric didn't just lay around like this, not without being caught in a breeze or disintegrating or anything like that. He was on high alert the whole afternoon, even going so far as to stab at some of the fabric with his sword, just to make sure there were no monsters lurking underneath.]

[He had been poking around his bike, looking to see if there was anything he could do to tune it up, when things started going wrong. Cloud shot up immediately as the fabric closed around them, Buster Sword in hand, ready to fight. Instinct had him shoving the blade forward as his bike betrayed him, turning into a cage; but with the blade in the way, it prevented one of the bars from fully forming.]

[He was about to try and shove his way out of the cage, when he felt something shift. It was like the world around him narrowed down into a singular point, centered around him... and then the pain hit. This wasn't one of his glitches though; the pain started in his gut, bringing him down to his knees. His face started to hurt, shifting, changing, and an inhuman growl coming out of his mouth as his teeth shifted, becoming sharp and jagged. He looked down at his shaking hands, watching his fingers retract, curling themselves into padded toes.]

[Cloud knew what he was turning into, the ears had been a dead give away, he just wasn't expecting it so soon.]

[The pain subsided, and he could feel something else creeping in his mind, like some kind of animalistic instinct threatening to quash his human mind. He wasn't about to let that happen, and in a last ditch effort to keep himself from being caged, he leapt toward the Buster Sword, snatching it in his jaws and just barely clearing the cage before the bar snapped into place.]

[He landed on the dusty floor of the carnival tent, snarling around the hilt of the sword in his mouth, ready to tear down with anyone that dared to approach him.]

[Fair Grounds]
[Once Cloud escaped the big tent, it didn't take long for the changes to revert. He stumbled his way to a dark corner as his face compacted, limbs lengthened, and everything sorted itself back to its usual place. Sometime during that he had spat out the Buster Sword, and he rested a trembling hand on it as he flopped down to the ground, shaking slightly.]

Tifa... I think you understated the changes...

[If you managed to escape the Big Top with him, he... may need a little help unplastering himself from the ground.]

[Sneaking In/Out]
[Cloud wasn't exactly the king of stealth; sure he was small and lithe, but he carried a big sword that lead to big swings and punishing attacks. That didn't exactly scream stealthy. Still, he was putting everything he learned from chocobo wrangling into sneaking back into the Big Top, doing his very best to keep from being seen by the ghosts drifting about.]

[Once the coast is clear, he makes his way to the cages, looking for the ones that look like they need the most help in getting out of there. Perhaps he'll even come up to your cage, peering through the bars to take in your condition.]

Are you alright? Think you can make it out of here?

[Wildcard]
[[I'm totally open for other prompts outside of these! If you want to talk it over, you can reach me either via PM on this journal or at SkylaDoragono.]]

[Monster Shift]

[dolphinpunch]

[Whatever she was doing before somehow doesn't seem that important to Tifa: maybe she was trying to find Cloud to talk to him. Or maybe just ensuring the Hubcap bar was well stocked. But compared to what's going on now, it doesn't matter.

Not as much as the way her heart is pounding fast and her muscles are all screaming. Or the way there's a hot patch on her skin, right where a needle bit at her. It's sending fire and anger alike through her system and she just-

She can't-

Think straight-]

"Who-?"

[She thought she heard someone. Or a growl. But right now she's seeing something in front of her, that looks like an enemy.

People are shouting at her "Fight!" and Tifa isn't in the mood to refuse them.

Her own changes aren't finished yet, but she takes a step through the cage doors, into the combat ring.]

John Doe | Malevolent

[thetatters]

1. merfolk tank

Are you a merfolk? No? Well, the circus seems to think you should be. Or maybe you're just chum for the waters, meant only to feed the main attraction.

This enclosure is a deep, glass-walled tank, decorated with rubbery seaweed and the rusting chain of an old anchor. Water spills down from a pipe above, pools ankle-deep, and has begun to rise.

John swears, kicks at it— splashes you, without apology— and swears again when his leg seems to twist and coil within his trousers. He scrambles at the nearest glass wall, apparently trying to wedge himself up into a corner as though the water will burn.

Outside, the spectral crowd laughs and jeers.

2. chained together

On one side of the ring: nothing, yet. An ominously empty space where some beast will be loosed upon them.

On the other side of your shackles: a scrawny, mundane-looking man with a sigil stamped across one eye. Unarmed and unarmored, dressed in his usual yellow cloak and cowl. John flicks constant nervous glances across the ring and yanks at the chain, and his growl pitches low and inhuman.

"This is idiotic! I'm not going to fight whatever beast they throw in this pit!"

3. hall of mirrors

John is panicking.

It's— stupid, embarrassing, beneath him. He has escaped all the day's horrors intact. He's been good. And yet the hall of mirrors finds him sprinting blindly around corners, recoiling from every vision, breathing fast and ragged.

A vision of John (Arthur) on his knees, his throat cut and bleeding. A vision of John (Arthur) sitting exhausted in an earthen pit, hair long and clothing threadbare, tally-marks scratched into one wall. A vision of something else— enormous, blazing yellow, a dizzying tangle of limbs— coiling smug upon a throne of human skulls.

That one can't be borne. With a wordless snarl, he lashes out and punches the mirror into a halo of broken shards.

3

[solitarysoul]

Levi's not sure how long he's been stuck in this stupid maze but he knows he hates it. Everywhere he goes he finds reflections of things he'd rather not remember. So when he comes across John he pauses for a few moments to watch the man. Was someone actually there or was this just another mirror?