new zealand ♔ when lies turn into truth i sacrificed for you | you say that i'm frozen

[lissatrinall]

♬ where i can never be - gary numan

WHO || Lis'sa, Kenzi, Bo, Klaus, Rebekah, Mars[Closed]
WHAT || The Knights investigate a mysterious carnival that may be linked to some magical winter weather
WHERE || New Zealand
WHEN || August 11th [forwarddated]
HOW || Actionspam. Single thread, don't worry about maintaining tagging order.

Strange winds have blown in, bringing on an unusually chill winter in New Zealand. The ground crunches underfoot with snow, the days growing shoter and stars holding court in the darkness reigning above. An unnatural cold permeates the town, and the river's jubilant voice is frozen under the ice. Birds abandon their nests for warmer climes, their songs silenced by winter's grim embrace. But the frozen riverbank now hosts a shimmering respite from the gloomy cold in the form of garish tents, joyful shouts, and sumptuous smells. Vaale's Carnival has come to town.

Gaiety and laughter cut through the cold wind, and even the sky-shy sun peeks its face from around the gathering winter clouds. Children squeal with delight and gasp in awe at the sights, sounds, and smells of Vaale's Carnival. The Titan's Wheel creaks and groans as a burly lumberjack tests his might wit a hefty spin, a family rushes giggling into the sprawling ice maze to the north, and dozens of happy skaters flit about the rinks atop the frozen river. Carnival dolls are handed to wide-eyed townspeople as prizes and a menagerie of freakish creatures and glowing lights beckons the curious. Garish skirts and scanty veils call others to a different breed of voyeurism altogether. Treats and wonders abound for young and old to enjoy, and for a time, the harsh winter is forgotten in joyful revelry. There's nothing to indicate any sinister going on whatsoever, as the group surveys the happy smiles of the crowd.

* Please make a list of all items your character is carrying in an entry in their journal before tagging into this post! They are free to have requisitioned any equipment or weapons they desire beforehand.

Comments

Flight Threads

[lissatrinall]

[ please post all in flight interactions here! flight time is twenty four hours ]

Vaale's Carnival

[lissatrinall]

[ Adjacent pairs of rickety podiums tacked together from pieces of apple crates form raggedy ticket booths that mark various entrances to the carnival. Eager-faced fairgoers cram about them, gleaning wonderment from faded posters promising stilt-walkers, terrifying rides, and all manner of freaks. Tirelessly working the books, baggy-eyed carnies busily hawk tickets to various events and do their best to direct the stream of excited townsfolk. A crowd of unwashed beggars shielded from the winter's harsh kiss by nothing more than old, smelly clothes huddles by the entrance to the carnival, pleading with passersby for a few meager dollars or a bit of food to see them through. Many are children or old men and women fallen on hard times. A good number are maimed from lumbering accidents or crippled by a horrible bout of pneumonia. Most people turn a blind eye to the haggard indigents, pretending not to see or hear them at all, and lumberjacks snarl, guffaw, or even kick at the dirty beggars as they stroll into the carnival to spend their money on games, shows, and other frivolities. ]

rebekah, klaus, lis'sa

[lissatrinall]

[ the three of them head left from the entrance and find one ride installed directly inside the gates. beneath a tall signboard reading 'mr. sathelbry's wild sleigh rides' stand four massive chargers hitched to three wooden passenger sleds coupled together with chains. hunched in the first sled is the driver - an aged, one-armed man dressed in a long threadbare wool coat, his snarling face wrapped with a dull red scarf. as the driver snaps his whip and the sled lurches forward, ragtag children dart from shadowed hollows beneath nearby wagons and try to snag free rides before the distracted driver sees them. as they watch, the man, who must be mr. sathelbry, scowls at one such child, kicking him into the snow with a cold-hearted laugh and a 'no money, no ride!' ]

bo, kenzi, mars

[lissatrinall]

[ the other group heads up the trail and crosses a little bridge to the right, where a gaggle of apron-wearing women balance trays of steaming pies as they swarm rows of picnic tables draped with red-checked cloth. the sweet-smelling scents of freshly baked pies wafts through the air. children clamor at the women's skirts, their faces and fingers stained with berries. ]

syntira's summons

[lissatrinall]

[ the group heads out the western exit of the carnival, and on the edge of the grove there, a pinprick of yellow light flares suddenly against the darkness. from the smallest flash of color, it silently increases its radiance until it seems as if the sun itself has come down from the heavens into the grove. suddenly, directly in front of the light, an alluring female form appears. the intensity of the light makes it almost impossible to determine any of her features, but it is clear she must be stunningly beautiful... and completely naked. the only part of her that is clearly visible is her eyes, which are liquid brown and seem to draw in the light. her voice chimes with the crystal beauty of a mountain spring on a summer afternoon. no, i didn't write that shit, it's in the module, get out.

even lis'sa looks overawed, which is probably sayin' something.

"Please do not fear. I will not harm you." ]

carnival of tears

[lissatrinall]

[ the group winds back to the carnival, but upon entering, they find it has drastically altered in their absence. yellow globes of light float and twist through the air above the carnival now brilliantly light the paths and tents of the show. every so often, a new yellow globe rises from one of the tents and joins the glowing multitude above the fairground.

most of the people have gathered along the lakeshore to witness the fireworks display. the moon is high in the sky, its light shimmers off the ice like pale ghosts dancing in the darkness. on the surface of the lake, fairgoers revel and hoot, stamping their feet to rollicking fiddle music played by a band of grigs that maniacally bow their instruments while hopping about the bandstand. a gong sounds from the stage and scores of colorful rockets suddenly spring into the sky, where they explode into glittering clouds of multicolored sparks that drift gently to the ground. as the sparks slowly drift on the wind, an unseen mist seems to lift from the scene, and in a moment, everything changes.

the grigs continue to play, but instead of a lively dance tune, they are playing an eerie, haunting melody that drips with sadness and cruelty. they stand off to the side with expressions of anxious expectation. meanwhile, instead of colored sparks, a rain of leeches drifts from the sky, and settles over the crowd with a series of wet noises. ]