October Event

[monstertruckers]

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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

[purplexing]

The winged cerberus follows, still cautious, but Vincent's calm helps not to spark the already existing anxiousness. The tension hasn't eased from the creature, two heads always watching, looking around guardedly as the main one keeps an eye on the red cloaked man. He slinks somewhat low, like he's trying not to be seen, one wing folded more closely to his body than the other, perhaps due to injury.

Any sort of movement caught his attention if it was nearby, the flutter of a tent, the passing of the shadowy carnival-goers, the beast pausing to stare intently. Vincent might get the feeling that if any of the things that had drawn his attention were more substantial, the creature might have bounded right off.

Still, he seems to remember enough to keep a good distance from any of the tents, not wanting anything to do with those.

[coffinturk]

A progress with short pauses. Though Vincent often takes a step or two further when the cerberus halts to observe something that catches his attention, he will then patiently wait a little further along.

His friend Nanaki lives between the realm of person and beast. Vincent himself... between person and monster. It was still a learning curve; he'd not been born into it. But he has had personal insight for a while now. While the transformations have often resulted in hazy memories at best, there's a part of him that knows.

He's suited to help another monster. To have empathy for its plight.

Slowly even tatters of the carnival that did not reform when the circus appear are left behind. The bronzen grass carpets hills and the sight is rather splendid; there are trees bunched in copses; the smell of water suggests there's probably a source nearby. Vincent's eyes scan the tall grass especially, until...

"There."

The beast might have already spotted the target. But the crimson eyes are focused on a subtle shift of grass that goes against the movement of the wind. One he recognizes from his own world as brief glimpses of green and white plummage might be caught.

"Zemzelett."

Vincent could have led the cerberus to the base where he'd secured some... meals; thanks to Edward's aid especially. But that would be dangerous and it's clear to him that the Drifter that's chosen to follow him needs something more than a ready corpse and food.

He needs this outlet for the anxiety, fear and rage. Something to lash out at, fight and bite and tear into at the end of this catharsis.

[purplexing]

The further from the colorful tents they get, the less twitchy the winged canine seems. Things are quieter, the air isn't so clogged with foreign scents, the buzzing in his blood more manageable-

It's clear he notices potential prey even before Vincent speaks, it's all in his poise, all heads on the alert, tail uncurling from beneath him to loosely sway like a snake behind him. He stays low, making his careful approach, tucking his wings tightly against his back despite a brief flinch of discomfort. Eyes brighten in their glow, fixed upon their target, but the two side-heads also keep aware of their surroundings, watching the direction of the wind, making sure it blows towards rather than against them.

Closer and closer...teeth bare in preparation for the charge.

[coffinturk]

Hm. Good.

Vincent doesn't move to join in; this is the beast's hunt but there are more reasons which will be spoken of later. Stay low, dip into the grass and perhaps occasionally peek above. The feathered beast that's being stalked seems thus far unaware. It's unlikely to be an herbivore, yet it gathers and plucks at the grasses. Perhaps some nesting instinct?

Well, the behavior is to their advantage right now.

The wind's change means that the gunman will eventually be caught upwind; and thus it's only natural that the Zemzelett's head comes up sharply, feathery 'ears' tilted as if antennae homing in on the presence. Something itself can devour. Prey? A fellow predator?

....But the clever arrangement means that the focus is not on the cerberus. Such is the way of pack hunters. You got to watch what comes from the sides more than the obvious threat.

Still it must be swift, for the zemzelett's wings are spreading in preparation to launch into the air.

[purplexing]

The moment is seen and seized without hesitation. With the zemzelett fixated upon Vincent, the cerberus surges out from his cover, striking like a lightning bolt.

Three sets of jaws are open wide, wings only flapping for extra lift when he's nearly upon the birdlike thing, snapping at the other creature's wings to hinder it from flight. If there seems an opening enough, the central head lunges for the meat of the zemzelett's throat. ...wherever it is under there.

[coffinturk]

The sound of the zemzelett's anger and pain voiced in a raucous shriek seems to tear the air like nails on chalkboard. And of course whatever noises the cerberus make are an added harmony to the clash of two beasts.

The target is the much larger of the two beasts, though the force of the cerberus's charge has staggered it, causing both flight and any intended attack against Vincent to be summarily interrupted. The gunman holds back and though his weapon is now drawn, his intention is not to join the fight even now; rather that he'll focus on the perimeter in case there are other monsters nearby that might try to assist or take advantage of the distraction.

There are a lot of feathers and the hide is tough. Though there is the taste of blood, the jaws have yet to go deep enough into the throat to find a vital artery. Wings are in disarray and likely prevent true flight...

But the bird has thick legs; enough to try and spring up and rake at the three headed hound's avian back end, meant to tear or kick it off.

[purplexing]

The scent and taste reignite that earlier blood-lust anew. The other two heads tear at the zemzelett's wings to prevent any attempted escape to the air. Too eager, too mindless.

The bird's strike draws blood, causing one of the heads to let go with a pained cry, the winged cerberus limp-hopping to the side while still hanging onto one of the zemzelett's wings yet. Abruptly he releases it, if only so he can gather himself to pounce on the thing, using his own wings as he bears down with his own sharper talons, trying to close upon the feathery girth while he brings his teeth in again.

White Wind. You love to hate it.

[coffinturk]

There's a change in the wind again. Vincent also catches a hint of bloodsmell in the air and it brings a pang. ...And a low growl at the back of his throat is both of hunger and irritation that the urge chooses now to resurface.

He'll satisfy his need later. He forces himself to focus on the battle and the familiar movement of a creature that should be native to his world. This Revan version is close enough.

"It's going to heal!" The rough callout carries over the distance as a warning. Will it be understood?

The zemzelett might not be as fatally disabled in the wing department as either of its opponents would like but having a three headed dog acting as ballast impedes its more agressive magic and any hope to life off.

Not that it can get out of range of a gun and another flying monster. Still it screeches in triumph when the cerberus drops and stsrts to lift. At the same time the winds around it begin to move in an unusual and gentle flow. Mystical energy travels in the current and begins to knit close the injuries inflicted by the cerberus. Pity that doesn't get shared.

But the monster will at the same time be reminded that its foe is able to easily reach it again; now digging into its back with teeth and talons and claws; a true moment of attrition between healing winds and the determination to down the zemzellet. The avian monster struggles to soar higher in that moment, so it can engage in acrobatics that might throw the cerberus off again. Twisting, bucking and diving.

e_e

[purplexing]

His central head's ears perk at Vincent's warning, the man having been completely forgotten until then.

The winds pick up, a familiar feeling to the beast, but this isn't of his own summoning, and while he may not understand what's happening at first, he can see those injuries mend. While his front claws aren't as long, they're still terribly sharp, and if they've been able to claw and cut through stone with no trouble, tearing and sinking into flesh should be easy. He can't get a good grasp with them but he can still try.

He keeps his own wings close for the time being, not wanting to be pulled away by the winds. The skull-head makes a grab for the base of the zemzellet's wing closest to it, sinking in hard and yanking with intent to shred. The other head snarls but its growing frustration is shared on the whole. It grabs the other wing, and the eyes of the main head flares brightly before it lets out a gout of flames down at the bird's face as a paw tries yanking it back.

And then he lets go, but only so he can free his back legs, talons more suited for grasping, and its with these that he makes to grab the zemzellet's head to give it a sharp twist of finality. He'll let it fall, allowing gravity to handle anything else.

[coffinturk]

And thus the battle comes to a sudden, abrupt conclusion. White Wind is amazing, but it can't heal through a broken neck. Dead, after all, is dead. The zemzelett's shrieks of pain from the blast of fire, the tearing of flesh under teeth, it all abruptly ends. A smell of burning feathers and skin on the stirred winds, a sudden, crunching thud to the ground.

The plains become silent as very little dares to breathe. Well, it's not like there's much life on Revan other than monsters. So perhaps it should be said the quiet goes back to normal.

One more look around and Vincent slowly returns the gun to his holster. His cape stirs as he moves and though there's a few steps closer, it's more to get a better view of the results.

It would be dangerous to approach a hungry predator when he wasn't invited to the meal. So he'll wait.

[purplexing]

The winged cerberus lands lightly on the ground well after the zemzellet had hit it, padding towards it and looking almost pleased with itself if one doesn't know any better.

That all drops the moment he sees Vincent, all three heads growling a warning. He moves around in front of his kill, tail lashing behind him.

It's only once it seems Vincent isn't interested in stealing his meal that the beast messily digs in, eager to feed while the kill is fresh, hot blood coating all three muzzles.

That faaaaace.

[coffinturk]

Yup. He'll wait. No more bothered by the cerberus's messy feast than the warning growl, Vincent's attention returns to the fields surrounding them both, waits... and watches.

...And tries to ignore his growing hunger. Annoying.

XD

[purplexing]

It's not very pleasant sounding, and the feathers get in the way, prompting the cerberus to yank them out by the mouthful at times. But it's not enough to stop him, and all things considered, it's probably the most filling meal he's had in...however long it's been since they've been stuck in this craziness.

But eating is tiring, and after he's gotten his fill, the winged canine drags a bone off to the side to gnaw at, one head yet vigilant while the other rests over red paws.

Just restin' his eyes.

[coffinturk]

It's fine. Vincent isn't going to get any close to help. In fact by this time he's found himself a rock to rest on. Even he doesn't stand forever.

When it becomes obvious the cerberus is going to settle to one side and start gnawing on a bone, the gunman will heave a sigh. Reluctant to abandon a fellow Drifter while they're in a feral state, Vincent closes his eyes as though to take a nap.

This isn't quite what he's doing; at least in the sense that he'll drift off. But more to block out some of the extraneous senses while he ponders his next steps.

He can wait and see if the feral state wears off naturally. Or he can return to the circus and try to collect some of the petals which seemed to alleviate symptoms. That was tricker and there was no guarantee that the cerberus would stick around until Vincent came back. Hmmm.

[purplexing]

That skull-head watches, unblinking, even as Vincent seems to settle. At some point it starts gnawing on the other end of the bone, the two heads tugging at it between themselves for a bit before eventually tiring of that. After licking some of the blood off of each other's faces and paws, the beast finally settles.

Perhaps it's a good sign it at least appears to feel secure enough to nap there even with the man within visual distance.

[coffinturk]

Hm. Now might be the time. After the cerberus has long settled, Vincent opens his eyes and rises from his own boulder. No sun soaked lazy day; the constant ominous clouds are a blessing for those who have trouble with the sun but probably not conducive for unsheltered naps.

Well whether or not the monster is unsettled, Vincent has a chore to do. Namely, seeing about snagging some of those petals.

[purplexing]

Rain and rumbling storms above aren't the greatest combination for napping, but compared to being stuck in cages or surrounded by boisterous shouting, it's still somehow more soothing. The winged cerberus hasn't had much opportunity for a peaceful rest, so here he's completely passed out for a good amount of time.

Eventually he does rouse, one head after the other lifting, blearily taking in their surroundings. He's unused to the natural quiet out here, although he can still make out the faint strains of music from the carnival itself. Picking himself up, he stretches out, leg still stinging from his fight with the zemzellet, and by now he's more or less gotten used to the soreness of his right wing, not that he remembers how he'd gotten it injured in the first place.

But now the beast is thirsty, and he recalls there'd been some water source nearby, so he starts over towards it to have a drink.

[coffinturk]

Vincent did nothing for the cerberus's pain before he left; there was nothing he could do at this time. Most of the water they'd collected at the oasis was locked up in the Convoy; every time he went back to find supplies he risked being caught again and subjected to the circus's twisted torments.

So he'll minimize those raids. Time them with other distractions. For now, his focus will be on the petals; in and out, back with a certain amount. Did this come at the cost of a personal performance? Perhaps but he'll never admit it.

The monster isn't where he left it. The Zemzellet's remains are there but so are tracks; including the possible daubs of blood where plants brushed against the injured leg. The rain has not yet lasted long enough to wash it completely away. Vincent is quite good at tracking blood these days, though he'd taken the opportunity to sate some of the hunger building in him in his absence.

He begins to follow the traces, ignoring the rumble of the storm clouds. His approach to the water's edge will come with caution, but at the same time openly; the last thing he wants to do is startle the cerberus or run into it waiting in the tall grass for more prey. Who knows how strong their truce is?

[purplexing]

Truce is a strong word in itself. The man had freed him and helped him find food. That seems about as much as any creature could expect, and if there might be expected some reciprocation in turn, well, that thought hasn't occurred. He's only less aggravated because of the lack of stimulation, but he's still a wounded animal.

Instincts only go so far. He hasn't been such a creature for long, he has no idea what he'll do from here, but there's clean water and it feels good against him. Vincent will find the canine rolling around in the shallows before lying there, letting the water flow up over his leg, the fresher of his injuries. It doesn't seem he's even noticed Vincent's return yet.

[coffinturk]

It truly is a strong word; but when dealing with a wild beast or monster, a 'truce' is choosing not to attack one another. How long that lasts is another matter entirely.

You wouldn't call Vincent's approach as stealthy. He purposefully places himself upwind of the beast, allowing the scent of his presence be herald to his return. He bears a small makeshift bag of cloth; from within is a calming scent of flowers.

Given the feral state, Vincent isn't certain if the cerberus will recognize the petal scent from the crowds. But it's not as if the cloth bag itself wouldn't have its own scents of the dire carnival. So this would always have been a risk; it's clear the gunman went back to fetch something from the terrible place.

Vincent pauses some yards away from the stream and waits for the monster's next move.

[purplexing]

It's clear when the creature does notice, one head's ears perking in attention, the central one looking in Vincent's direction with a low growl even as the skull one snaps at the water. But eventually even that one looks warily at the red-cloaked man as the cerberus gets to its feet, tail swaying behind it.

Oh, it doesn't like anything to do with the carnival, baring teeth as it slinks out of the water, keeping all three sets of eyes upon Vincent as it backs up.

[coffinturk]

With that wariness, Vincent stops. Not the earlier alertness, but the moment the growling begins, where the language of fear and dislike rise.

The gunman slowly settles on the ground. The makeshift bag is set down beside him opened; more a falling of the sides into a cloth surface in the middle of which lie the petals.

"Medicine. It may help."

Everything revealed, the man waits and watches. Does he expect words to be understood? Not at all. Tone and action. The calm stillness and patience. Those are the language which he actually communicates with.

[purplexing]

The creature keeps most of its eyes on Vincent, one head looking toward the offering, sniffing in its direction.

The flower petals mean nothing to him, but the scent overpowers the lingering smell of the cloth that bears them. It's definitely not food, and for a moment it doesn't seem like the creature registers what medicine might mean. But slowly, cautiously, the cerberus slinks a little closer.

[coffinturk]

Though still, Vincent is often thinking; what would ease the tension? Is a particular correction, an action, worth making over what's been established? It seemed so.


Vincent's hand slowly reaches for the pile of petals. No, the cloth underneath, to remove it, sliding the pile off and onto the flattened grass. Petals on ground are not going to come to any harm.

But the piece of carnival canvas can be flung casually away. Maybe the wind picks it up a further distance. Anyway, it's 'gone' from the immediate area around the man.

[purplexing]

The beast pauses, draws back again when Vincent moves, cautious still, but more curious, glowing eyes watching as the offending cloth is done away with.

A head watches the man while the other two investigate the petals that have been left, the main head burying itself nose-first into the pile, the skull nipping at a few petals, getting them stuck in its teeth. The first sneezes, shaking itself out, looking almost dazed for a moment. Slowly, the cerberus settles onto the ground, a paw going over the creature's face, the other two heads looking a bit more anxious. The other head noses at the petals, swinging a look towards Vincent again, the glow to his eyes less feverish, flickering in uncertainty.

The main head lets out a whine, letting his paw slip from his face.