MINI EVENT - THE GRAND MASQUERADE

[ride_technicians]

↞NAVIGATION

strings

Late in the day on 10/31 the thunderclouds above begin to disperse, clearing up to reveal a dark night sky. Two large, blood red moons hang high above in the sky, painting the land in an eerie, crimson glow. The mist creeps inward, rolling out to coat the park in a thin blanket of fog.

There's an energy in the air that hums in soft vibrato, prickling at the skin and setting fire to nerve endings.

Lanterns float along the pathways seemingly of their own accord, drifting about as they lead the way towards Cirque Illume. The tent flaps are thrown wide, revealing the interior held within. It's... Nothing like it used to be inside, and the grand ballroom held within seems far too large to possibly be held within the confines of canvas and trappings. It's also livelier than it's been in quite some time; all rides and stalls have been closed for the evening, and upon entering the circus tent ballroom, the reason why becomes rather apparent. Each and every Mask within the park has seemingly found its way inside. Visible strings are attached to limbs and bodies as they dance and twirl in perfect, lifelike imitation. Each movement is smooth and human, and those who aren't making use of the dancefloor are loitering about in various groups scattered about the venue.

The most striking detail of all, however, is that they are speaking to each other.

The words and verbiage are alien and unrecognizable, but shouts and laughter drift through the air beside whispers and admonitions. Behind a curtain near the back of the ballroom, an organ plays music that bleeds out into every crevice of the space, lending further life to the scene and allowing the dancers a list of songs to keep time with. Along the westernmost wall, a large banquet table has been set up, littered with gourmet foods and deserts of all kinds. The smell is inviting and mouthwatering, no doubt a welcome break from the endless amounts of carnival foods that have been sustaining the guests so far.

To the left of the banquet table, a Mask behind a bar serves drinks of equally high caliber. Alcoholic and nonalcoholic options are both present, with the caveat that the former is only available to those who are of age to drink.

Welcome to the Grand Masquerade!

wardrobe malfunction

Of course, any who attempt to enter without proper attire are promptly shooed off the premises. Worry not, however, because it seems that KNICk-KNACK PADDY-WHACKZ has also been repurposed into something new for the evening. Gone are the racks of souvenirs and fish food, replaced by rows upon rows of formal attire and proper masquerade outfits. An entire wall has been covered with ornate masks of all shapes and sizes, while another offers jewelry and accessories of gemstones and glittering metals to accent any chosen ensemble.

Nothing appears to have a price tag, and there are no attendants in sight. It's safe to assume that everything is free for the taking.

stringless

Those who decide to forgo the festivities have an entirely different battle on their hands.

The Hi-RiZe has not moved since curfew's end earlier in the morning, and the stillness has been noticed. Figures move about within the mist, crawling closer and darting about like living shadows, growing ever closer to the open. Gurgling screams and echoing snarls ring out in the crisp evening air. As time moves on, the noises get louder and more apparent, until finally a few shapes break free into the crimson light of the moons above.

(CW: Some disturbing monster imagery)The hulking creatures are massive, standing at about the size of a fully grown moose. Pale, translucent skin twists into the shape of thousands of hands that pull and claw across the grounds to move with frightening agility. They crawl about the park, chittering and screeching to communicate with one another as they seemingly hunt about in search of... Something. Nothing good.

It doesn't appear that they are capable of sight, seemingly relying on sound alone to get their bearings. The creatures purposefully seem to avoid the areas around the Cirque tent, instead sticking near the fringes of the mist where they can duck back into cover if injured too severely. Because they certainly can be killed, just not easily.

Comments

[beathollow]

( ... oh. well. she doesn't like that.

the tempo, she can at least keep up with. but everything else? call her paranoid, but after the month she's had, she thinks it's warranted. )

I don't remember introducing myself. ... Or saying anything about offense, for that matter.

[apotelein]

[He lets out a hum, lifting his arm up to spin her through it.]

Mm, this must be the one where we haven't met, then. [It's almost muttered under his breath in a thoughtful manner, though his tone picks back up again almost instantly afterward.] Regardless, I'm pleased to see you here. It's not safe out there.

[beathollow]

--Have we met somehow before?

( he does this and she follows through spectacularly as she listens. ...somehow, that doesn't sound unreasonable. even without the confirmation of magic, both home and here, the multiverse theory has always made sense to her. it's just that... well.

who the fuck, honestly.

... wait, hold on. )

What do you mean?

[apotelein]

You've seen firsthand the cruelty the sun's rays bring, haven't you? [The first question goes unanswered in favor of replying to the second.] I've found that the world is always safer within the arms of the midnight hour... Although here, it's more literal than it is elsewhere.

[He pauses, and then the faintest of frowns touches upon his lips.] How are your injuries? Have they healed up yet?

[beathollow]

( wow, rude? don't ignore her questioning. she's detectiving here.

... it's always strange when people show concern for her. and yet, it's not unwelcome. but she wants answers more now. is he truly someone she would accept concern from? ...

glancing away, she nods. she's not... perfect yet, but within two more weeks, so long as she's careful, her throat will be fully healed. until then, her voice remains soft and almost a whisper. )

Mostly. It'll be fine. ... Is something going on, though?

[apotelein]

Something's always going on.

[It's said with a returning grin, just toothy enough for sharpened canines to peek out past his lips.] You've been here long enough to know that much, considering the state of things. The park is caught within a rather delicate battle for syzygy at all times, and if the balance leans too far one way...

[He puts his hands on her waist to lift her up into the air with a flourish, shrugging in a noncommittal manner once he sets her back on solid ground.]

Well. You and I are both rather well acquainted with dancing on strings.

[beathollow]

Syzygy...?

( unfortunately, she can't just google that right now. or at all. i can, but i can't just impart knowledge upon her. a balance... and it has control of the park? she's not sure she gets it, but she's at least willing to listen.

even if that last comment makes her pale, jaw setting with a quiet force. )

I...