#event: carnival

[lucie-newman]

Who: OPEN (4/5)

"This," Lou sucked powdered sugar off her thumb as she smiled down at her funnel cake, "now this right here is my kryptonite." She was parked on the curb, watching enviously as the tilt-a-whirl cranked into gear again. Her feet were sore, but she wanted to be out, wanted to enjoy the carnival lights and the amusement of the crowd. "Though it is my second so I'm willing to share."

[antondevlaux]

WHO: @thecursed-starters WHERE: The Carnival — Seer of Truths. WHEN: 31st of May, 2024.

Having been born a witch, there were a few things that he'd come to know: one...fortune tellers were just crack pots who liked to wear purple clothes, preaching spirituality while pretending that they could be one s...he didn't want to say it. How could anyone wish to be something so monstrously inhumane? For power they could rarely use. A carnival was meant to be a happy place, but Anton had never been the type. He detested everything about that "gift" that lived inside of him. What most believed from the TV or fiction books was a lie to turn the human's blind eyes from the truth: Because they couldn't handle it. Society was such a fragile thing, always on the cusp of greatness or crumbling down.

The entrance, with its false sense of cryptic symbols, flickering candles and a sign which proclaimed, "Madame Zara - Seer of Truths." With a snort of derision, shaking his head, hands dipped into his pockets with a heavy sigh. He would've usually avoided it all together, but maybe it was the sight of Jo elsewhere or the fact that his eyes kept finding it. Why the fuck not?

However, when he burst through the curtain, he realised his mistake: someone was getting a reading, hands raising in apology as that haggard old voice from the so-called mystic spoke.

“Welcome, Anton,” she said, her voice smooth, which was oddly out of place against the leathery look of skin, folded and creased in ways he'd never seen before.. “I’ve been expecting you.” Madame Zara beckoned, her finger bony and thin.

She could fuck right off, and shove that bony finger up her ass.

Anton’s eyes narrowed. “I doubt that,” and still her words unsettled him. Distrust immediately setting in like the ugly doubt that had been with him since he found his gifts, or...exploded with them. "Sorry for disturbing," he said to the other seated person as he turned to look at Madame Zara. "They seem like good, normal people —don't feed them this fuckin' nonsense."

"You wanna get out of here?"

[idaclarke]

@ivyrivasworld when: spring carnival where: spinning cups

"omigod." ida stops, hand reaching out to halt ivy next to her. "wanna hear some fantasy i have?" she beams, turning to the other with a bright smile. "you know that movie uptown girls? and that scene where brittany murphy and dakota fanning are sad and mad sitting in the teacups and spinnin' them?" she squeezes ivy's arm. "i don't know why, but everytime i see a teacup, i am overwhelmed with the urge to recreate that scene, even if i'm not in a bad mood or anythin'. it's just so aesthetically beautiful and kinda liberatin'? does that make any sense?" she rambles looking from ivy to the teacups. "really all that to say that i'm draggin' you onto the teacups."

[leakywright]

@logiyande when: spring carnival where: ring toss

"logan, you promised me a game, so i am here to collect." he slings an arm around her shoulders, still a bit damp from his time at the dunk tank, but dry enough for him to be comfortable. "so i've decided, we're starting with the ring toss. and then winner gets to decide the next game?" he shrugs, squeezing her before letting go. "i feel like you've got like, a secret talent that i'm about to witness."

[antondevlaux]

The kiss turned Anton Devlaux into a statue, body freezing, every muscle locking into place except his lips which, through shock, responded even if it was only brief. Momentary. Gone just a second later — staring at her before he had to bite down the laughter that threatened to burst out of him. "Every desire, huh? That's a lot of expectation to put on a single man."

And while many people loved a challenge, not Anton. Nah, he wanted the quiet, he wanted to be left alone.

And just like that, Elaine was gone from sight completely, and he was free.

"A Narbo? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?" He fell into step beside her, hands digging into his pockets, while his long strides matched her shorter ones — even if already had the urge to tell Vivienne to walk faster. "And for the record, it's not about playing a knight in shining armor, as you call it. I mean...It's about... I don't know, not being a complete asshole?" which, noted, he'd never been very good at. It wasn't like he actively tried (not always, at least). "Complete asshole or not, I let her think she had a chance. That’s on me. But...I mean, come on, she's not exactly subtle, is she? I should've run while I had the chance."

He grunted, knowing she was technically right, but unwilling to admit it. The distant sounds of children laughing and adults screaming on the rides filling the space as they got closer. Anton rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. "Right, sorry, uh? Vivienne." looking away from the Love Tunnel with an arch of a bushy brow. This woman was...something else. One minute her lips had been on his, she'd berated him for his choices, and now she was taking him away from hell: he'd have to find a way to thank her.

The rollercoaster loomed ahead, all the more thrilling—or terrifying, depending on one’s perspective. At least it didn't have any fucking pigeons, because funnily enough, that was where he drew the line. Witches? Fine, hated them too, but pigeons? Mortal, or immortal fucking enemy.

Anton couldn’t deny the infectious nature of her enthusiasm, even if rollercoasters weren’t exactly his thing. “You know,” leaning against the metal railing, “if you’re trying to scare me to death, there are easier ways.” A hint of humor lacing that otherwise monotonous voice. One thing he did know was that Vivienne was the kind of woman to keep a man of their toes, and enough fear of losing her that they'd never make a move to give her reason too.

Which meant she was dangerous. Little did he know the actual danger that lay behind beautiful eyes.

The line moved quickly, and soon they were seated in the front car, strapping themselves in with a cord that looked like one pull too much and it might break, the safety bar pressing down on their laps. Enough to have him settle. Taking a slowed minute, Anton glanced at Vivienne. "Ready?"

Elaine, Elaine, Elaine...

So naïve, so... Mundane... And that voice? That poor thing saw no love; not from above and certainly not from below. If she had any heart in her, perhaps she'd have felt bad for the woman, alas, Vivienne was so much better than that. Besides, Elaine certainly didn't deserve anything, except perhaps a one-way ticket to reality.

She could consider it a gift from Vivienne for that dirty look she threw.

"We go way back?" The witch pouted at Anton, pretending to care for whatever it was he called them. "This is exactly why girls like that think they can steal you away from me." Another pout, before she fisted his shirt in her hand and pulled him closer, brushing her lips gently against his. "You promised me, so I hope you're going to fulfill my every desire."

She very much doubted that, of course. If anything, Anton felt like he was a scaredy-cat at the best of times. Though today seemed to be proving there was yet some potential to see. Vivienne kissed him for just a little bit longer, watching as Elaina disappeared within the crowds and only then did she separate.

Anton still needed some work, for sure.

"If you were a better man, you wouldn't need saving." She said, rolling her eyes. "What are you trying to play here? You say yes only to dread it later? Everyone one knows about Elaine. Stop trying to play a knight in shining armour, Tony." Instead of going towards the Love Tunnel, Viv started to head towards the new rollercoaster. That was more fun for now, and she wanted to keep the Love Boats for the special ones.

She turned to see that Anton was still where she had left him a few seconds ago, so with a grunt she walked back, hooked her finger on the back of his shirt and once again steered him in the correct direction. "You'd like it if you were in love, too. You're such a narbo."

[neotomiccccc]

That’s a weird looking cat

[saytrrose]

CARNIVAL TADC Server Halloween Event!!

Prompt 4/7

[fisheito]

devs are JERKkin me around- like, wELL-----

[antondevlaux]

Anton wasn't one to jump to talk to people, although, recently, he'd been finding himself involved in more conversations than he'd otherwise liked. Come to think of it, why the fuck was he here? He could leave, he knew that. And still, he found himself caught off guard by Daphne fucking Brooks. And it pained him to think of his conversation with Jo about his attendance. The absurdity of it. He'd come here in hopes he'd see her, as foolish and weak as that made him.

Daphne's sudden shift in focus towards him had a groan he should've silenced. However, he had little luck when it slipped past his lips, eyes shutting. He wasn't good at this. People, conversation, trying to pretend he wanted to be here when he really didn't. Her energy was unmissable. She was beautiful; the man wasn't blind. But it was...overt, too much for him. A lot of...her. There was no explanation. Still, he fashioned his features as quickly as possible into something akin to constipated (He was trying to smile.)

He could see why she was good at her job, even if her tactics were unconventional — eyes sliding to Ron with a look of 'I'm sorry you have to deal with this, dude' before finding Daphne once more when the man scampered off to god knows where.

He cleared his throat, composing himself, voice low. "Fun House, huh?" Anton's gaze shifted in the general direction of where it was located, neon lights flickering sporadically. "Well, if you like disorientation, it's right up your alley. But no, no cobwebs. Not unless they’ve added new decor since last year." it wasn't like the carnival didn't have the budget for it.

"You've got about an hour, you say? If you want something of substance," he scoffed, "you might check out the historical reenactment over by the old courthouse. They do a terrible job of portraying the witch trials. Now that, that story I'd watch. Puff pieces do nothing for talent." It sounded condescending, because it was. He couldn't help it. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll walk you there if you promise to give your honest opinion when you report it..." It was testing her boundaries as he took one step towards the old courthouse, his brows lifting. What was he doing?!

He didn't want to hang out with her — but she was...hot. And if Jo saw... "Come on," A smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "And I promise, no secondhand embarrassment there. Just don't expect any laughs, either."

As much as she abhorred children, Daphne knew the Network wanted that golden shot of the perfect nuclear family, right here in Salem. A sign of the times, perhaps. All she knew was that if she had any hope of making the producers see how much better she'd be at reading forecasts and tracking storm systems, she needed the numbers, the can-do attitude, and the legwork. If only it were about actually having good legs and not begging simpletons for an interview she could actually use! Where was Vivienne? She’d nail this.

Locking eyes with a family of four, Daphne put on her winning smile and waltzed over to them. The sound of irregular breathing followed her; she'd taken Ron's puffer earlier. She'd give it back later, but right now it was the only way to ensure he was following without having to twist her neck to check. "Hi there, are you--" she was cut off. The father eyed her camera and then her dress suspiciously, as if it were handcrafted by Lucifer himself. Not this one, sadly. Turning around, she made a cut sign to Ron, but a man's voice caught her attention.

Daphne smirked and shot back, "Well, lucky for me, I specialize in making brick walls crumble. Contempt's just the first crack." She briefly turned back to Ron, shooing him with a simple sentence: "Go take a break." Then she walked over to the man who definitely had her attention. "You wouldn't happen to have a more interesting story for me, would you?" It could be on or off the camera with those luscious eyelashes of his.

She'd been in Salem for little over a month now and despite a few unwanted attention from a couple of audio technicians at work, she'd yet to find a specimen of interest. Where had this man be? Tall, dark, devilishly handsome? She could feel the magic beneath her fingers prickling to ignite. A spark? Perhaps. She was definitely curious to find out.

"Oh, look at that.. I don't have another cross till-- well, let's just say I've got a good hour before I have to try and round up the human equivalent of Garfield. Do you have any suggestions of anything I might've missed? I heard the Slideshow is actually good this year..." She would have nothing to compare it to since she hadn't been at last year's one, but maybe that was a good thing. "Oh and I think I heard someone mention the Fun House.. what does that involve? I'm not going to have to get any kind of fake cob webs out of my hair am I?"

[lifetrimmed]

My gift for svedka69 on twt from the nukani exchange event (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

I've given the pic to my giftee in the server but forgot to post it here oops

Their outfits gave me a headache ngl LOL

[antondevlaux]

WHO: @josefinerichards WHEN: 31st of May, 2024. WHERE: The Carnival.

Like spectral will-o'-the-wisps on this cool Salem night, it should've been beautiful to look at, flashing lights and bright things everywhere. It was a child's heaven. For someone like Anton, though, it was like being dragged to hell, where he'd be forced to live in Satan's presence. That thought could've made him hurl on the spot: because his mother had chosen Satan over her family. And not in a figurative sense, either. No. She'd walked right into the fiery pits of hell, and had smiled while doing it. He often wondered why he didn't trust people, couldn't bring himself to want to either — and as his mother's face flashed before his eyes, so did another.

Except hers was real. Jo.

"I absolutely hate this town." A laugh, self-deprecating, a wholly Anton response. "And could they play some decent fucking music?" Yes, he was talking to himself, and as the passerbys' brows furrowed, his cheeks redening, offering a look of apology.

Pulling his coat tighter around himself as a futile attempt to make himself seem smaller, to become invisible amongst the clamouring groups of people who swarmed and dispersed just as quickly. What he'd give to be tucked into the corner of Silky Smooth, a record between his fingers, that faint crackle filling his space. Most unnecessary noise irritated him, but not that. It could never. Music was his food for the soul.

Too many people, too much noise. It reminded him of why he preferred the comfort of his own space. And while He'd known Jo would be here. It hadn't stopped him from coming. Maybe there was some hope there that he'd see her here alone...was that selfish? That he cared who she was with, when the reason Jo had walked was because of him? Maybe that selfish part reared its ugly head, because while he liked to pretend he wasn't a jealous man, when it came to her, he sure as fuck was.

Jo, with her bright eyes and that infectious laugh that would pull him in even when he tried to hold back. The only woman, besides his best friend, that had been able to read him like a damn open book. Anton may have been a witch by birth, a vampire hunter by trade, but he'd never been good enough for her.

And her family knew it.

"Jo." shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he was forcing himself to resist the urge to reach out, to touch her. Not anymore. He didn't have that right. "Fancy seeing you here."

[idaclarke]

@reinaazarolla when: spring carnival where: kissing booth

"oh, how did you get roped into the kissin' booth part? by choice or by being voluntold?" ida walks up to the booth, smiling brightly at reina as she did so. "i know i'm a little early for my shift, but wanted to swoop in, just in case there was someone only their momma could love tryin' to make a move on you, and you needed savin'." she explains, flicking her hair over her shoulder and looking around. "how has it been ya think? on a scale of 1-10, 1 being boring no one but creeps came, 10 being i met the love of my life."

[sethadams-cursed]

"Polish? Me too, but only on my mom's side… I'd say it shaped most of her personality…" He'd spent far too many family summers in the Polish woods instead of on a beach somewhere. Which probably was better for his delicate pigmentation, but still, when Jerry and Peter are telling you all about their bikini-filled summers and all you've got to add is that you spent yours on your ancestor's old sheep farm… getting burnt ain't exactly a big drawl back.

He didn't blame her for not hearing him. The Ghost Train was LOUD. The area filled with fake mechanical screams, real ones, and everyone else anticipating which would be louder. "Oh, I was just saying,--" Actually, what had he told her? Something about Salem, something about it being good here, and something about comparing it to New York or was it Boston? "Actually, I forgot." He laughed, hands slipping into his pockets as he swayed back onto the balls of his feet, wondering what kind of places in Salem she thought were cool. She had a vibe. He was getting that, but was it stick a Morbid Angel cassette into your player or was it a shop-till-you-drop at the old Salem mall kind of vibe? Hopefully, he'd get to the bottom of it tonight.

"Talent Agent? Wow. I think I saw Vivienne Young earlier by The Love Tunnel." Talk about every man's dream. He kept that tidbit to himself. Though, truthfully, he would've loved to speak to her, not as much as he'd have liked to speak to Steven Wayne (in person), but he rated her quite highly on his list. "You know Vivienne Young?"

"I'm a vet. I took an extra year to graduate because I wanted to specialize in exotics, you know, snakes, spiders—" hold it together, man, "iguanas. Not much use out here, unfortunately." Though, every now and again he did make a house call to a man in Ipswich who had a rather big assortment of poisonous snakes in his possession. "Are you more of a dog or cat person?" He'd say both, but it did say a lot about a person if they were one or the other.

"Yes, and who is calling?" What?! He still hadn't got her name yet.

He scoffed. "What you mean? Like in real life? Big Foot and the Wolfman?" He laughed, "I mean no." He loved horror movies, but the ones about 'monsters' and stuff always made him laugh. He much preferred slashers; like Halloween and Friday the 13th.

"Now, that—that I'm more inclined to believe," he mused, recalling the story he'd heard around some makeshift campfire when he'd been eleven. "You hear the story about a lone driver, I forgot her name, so let's call her Sarah, making her way home, her heart pounding with each mile. Suddenly, she notices headlights in her rearview mirror, following her every move. Sarah's nerves are on edge as she speeds up, but those lights stay right on her tail, never fading, never blinking. Panic sets in as she recalls the stories of a menacing figure lurking in the backseat of unsuspecting drivers' cars."

The cart turned, another piercing mechanical scream ripped through as a Demon popped out. Seth didn't blink. "So, with trembling hands, she pulls into a gas station, her heart racing as she leaps out of the car. Her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, when she sees the occupants of the car behind her rushing towards her, their faces etched with concern." Seth pulled some fake cobweb from both their faces when their cart decided to take some of the display along for the ride with them. "Anyway, they explain that they had been trying to signal her because they saw a man hiding in the backseat of her car, waiting to…." He raised his hands and yelled, "strike!"

With a relaxed demeanor, Seth leaned back in the cart as it continued around the tracks and put his hands behind his head. "But yeah, I'm game… where did you have in mind?" That was an invitation to a date, right? Sure, Maggie might have been taking her nods in the hospital right now, but that wouldn't stop him from calling the hospital and having them wire him into her room in order to tell her he'd just scored a date to a graveyard or the abandoned mental hospital a few miles outside of town (high possibility) with a pretty New Yorker.

"You know I think this is almost the last turn.. unless they've got something up their sleeves for their grand finale, we might just have to go splits on that corn dog..." He wouldn't have suggested it earlier, but now that she was suggesting 'dates' and stuff, well. "Fair?"

"Well, I guess if you survived all eight Friday the 13th movies without a hitch, you're clearly immune to fear — let me guess. You never wet the bed either when you were a kid?" It sounded like she was teasing, enjoying her time in his company. In reality, it was the same game, just with a little more...splash. The carnival added something to her otherwise dull day, and the need to tease cured boredom. To embarrass? Even better. "With extra toppings—hope you brought your appetite and your financial advisor! I'm sure your wallet is the true horror story here."

Was she insulting? Yes, unfortunately so. But as always, she painted it to look pretty, because to her humans were toys, mere playthings to feed her and pass her time. She'd once been one of them, had cared about what happened to them. But slowly, over time, that humanity had been stripped from her. Bit by bit, until this woman was left standing before Seth: an actress, a performer and a monster with fangs that could pierce skin as easily as a needle could pierce fabric. She chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to echo in the dark space. "Scared? Me?" the amusement that took over her features was a beautiful blend of humored, and a smidgen of adoration at the oblivion. It wasn't sweet, oh no, it was predatory — it was like looking at a slice of meat after days after starving for a human. It was the warmest blood that ran in his veins that invited her in. She had nothing to be scared of, but this man, on the other hand, with that puppy-like demeanour, had the corner of her lips curling. "Oh, darling, you have no idea."

Her eyes flicked to Seth, noting his boyish excitement that most of the men she'd come to know over years passed lacked. Something akin to childish wonder in those eyes that could've almost sparked something close to humanity in her briefly, but just as quickly as it sparked, it died. Her heart long since cold and dead. Decrepit. It would be almost charming, in a way, and once upon a time she might've found herself almost endeared by his clear innocence. Untouched, pure. For now. Her predatory instincts were never far behind, always there, always reminding her of the hunger gnawing at her. Always reminding her that he was weak, breakable. And self-preservation far outweighed his measly life.

His question had her pausing. She could lie, she could be truthful. She'd long since lost her European accent, but it still slipped through from time to time. "New York," she paused, momentarily pushing through the gate as the light indicated it was time for them to fit into the ghost train booth, "Although, originally Poland. I have great, great ancestors...they immigrated years ago." How easily the lies slipped off her tongue now, as years had gone by. Lowering herself into the cart, her brow arched upward.

The second the spiel was over, Merida was quick to realise that Seth liked to talk a lot about...Salem. She understood, somewhat, that the topical conversation was because of their location, but still..she began looking around, boredom seeping in, before her eyes snapped to his. "Sorry, were you saying something?"

She just hoped he didn't repeat it all over again. Could he read a room?

It took only moments for her to slip into the cart, finding comfort in knowing that it wouldn't be long before that hunger stopped clawing at her stomach, screaming and begging. Food, food, food. But her dinner wasn't as easy as picking up something at 7/11. No, she had to hunt, to find the person that would tick all the boxes and appetite needs. AB, baby.

The speech, the legs, just...Seth? Over the span of her life, she'd met some interesting people for sure. But Seth was...not an exception to the rule exactly, but enough for momentary intrigue. Enough that her brows tugged into a downward v, her eyes sliding to him. Different, innocent, unlike most. She'd take a little...unless it was delicious, then she might just take the lot.

Her humanity was fleeting.

"I'm a talent agent, y'know, models, actors...sending them off to go find their dreams in LA. It's all the rage now, they say by the mid 90s, it'll be the only place that's important to be in show business." In truth, she wanted to bleed them all dry....literally. "And you?"

And off they went.

"So, Seth, is it?" A grin spreading across her mouth, large and beaming. The ride moving, the atmosphere beginning with a fake fog, and haunting sounds that would've fooled most teenagers into girly screams, and a chance to hold their crush's hand. She wouldn't tell him her name. There were some things that were better left a mystery.

"Do you believe in monsters?" she whispered, tone wicked but masked. That grin to the normal person looked like she was having the time of her life. And don't get her wrong, she was, but for all the reasons they would never guess to think. "It's always nice to have an open mind." she let a slight pause. The silence of the ride said enough, a jump scare was close. "You never know what might go home with you."

Or leave it's mark.

The first thing up – a haunted graveyard, complete with fog machines and skeletal hands reaching out of the ground. Merida couldn't help it, slowly clapping as she turned to Seth. "Wonderful, truly, let me guess...the grim reapers going to jump out any second and tell me I'm going to hell?" she paused, inching a brow. "Maybe next time, I can take you to a real haunted spot. Salem's full of them."

After she found out if he had any family, anyone that would miss him. She'd take enough not to rouse suspicion, not here. The witches, the wolves... she had to keep her wits about her.

[leakywright]

@montyrichler when: spring carnival where: skee ball

looking for some good competition, leaky beamed as he noticed monty walking his direction. perfect, he seemed like just the guy who not only like skee ball, but was probably secretly fantastic at it. "monty! my man!" leaky laughs, stepping into his pathway, hand raised to bring him in for a hand shake and half-hug. "i've got a proposition for ya. three rounds of skee ball, best of three gets all the tickets we collect and the prize. loser has to do something embarrassing of the winners choosing?" he offers with a shrug, walking backwards toward the machines. "you look like you're some ripe competition for me. you a bowler or something?" he looked like he could be for sure, but leaky couldn't tell you why.

[monossidodiazoto]

Just Blade™

[aeste]

Sometimes I feel a bit like a clown; but then I see how Kuya looks at Eiden, and I remember that there is someone here who is the entire fucking circus🤡🎪