Logs:Triskaidekaphic Carnival

From NOLA: The Game that Care Forgot
Jump to: navigation, search

Triskaidekaphic Carnival

Characters: Way, Marek, Tris, Fawn, Phoebe, Fen, Selah, Axle, Ramsey, Seraphine and Jeanie as ST!
Date: 2020-03-13
Summary: A Cursed Carnival for Curious Carousers and Cockroaches on Friday the 13th!
Disclaimers: {{{disclaimers}}}

( Triskaidekaphic Carnival - RP Nexus )

Wasn't this a mostly abandoned mall just a few days ago? Probably, but that's not stopping this Carnival from setting up camp. Food, games and rides, all available for those that dare... Creepycarnival.jpg Music

With states of emergencies being declared everywhere, one would think that carnivals would also be deserted and that would probably be right somewhere, but this particular travelling entertainment doesn't seem to be one that cares much for little things like regulations and you might be more likely to catch tetanus than Covid-19. The cheery, tinny music is blaring away from a cheap PA system, trying to lure more folks into what was once a Sears parking lot. At least the lines are much shorter than the grocery store checkout.

Arriving, Axle in tow, the little Gremlin has a box of pizza from some local joint. The pie is covered in grease as one might imagine, so much it is dripping down his chin while munching on a slice folded in half for ease of consumption. Wayfarer is in heaven right now. Yet, he comments to his companion, "This is going to be great. I heard about this crazy carnival...I can't wait." while peering up at Axle, giving her a big smile.

Axle has laid claim to one of the pizza slices; she's the one who ordered it, after all, since it is her weekly ritual with Way. A bargain is a bargain. It's so loaded with cheese and toppings, it's hard to fold in half, but she's doing her best to tear bites from it from triangle top to crust. With her mouth full of food, she tells Way, "If a clown gets within arm's reach of me I'm booting it in the nards."

Nothing like a spooky carnival to harsh your buzz! Ramsey has tagged along tonight, wondering from time to time why he has done so, but hey, gotta live a little, maybe? Maybe. He's got on a checkered shirt over a t-shirt that is commemorating casino night on some river cruise or other. "This is the best of all of the best ideas you've had." At least he doesn't have to worry too much about disease, with his magical moon powered immune system.

Regulations, shmegulations. That's what Marek thinks. He's here with Fawn and the two of them are just exiting the fun house. Marek has his arm wrapped around Fawn's waist as they make their way towards the food area, seeking funnel cakes.

Marek is rather over-dressed for a Sears Parking Lot Carnival, sporting a charcoal gray Armani suit and leather shoes. For whatever reason he's missing a shirt, only the tie is around his neck under the suit jacket. The fashion statement is completed with a massive stuffed puppy dog, some five feet in length, draped over his back like an absurd shaman's cloak. The big head of the stuffed animal perches atop his head and the arms are tied around his neck to keep the heavy toy in place.

Fawn is dressed in a short sleeved white blouse and a rather fetching skirt that reaches down to her calves. It's slit up one side pretty high, showing off some leg as she walks beside the Blood Talon.

HEY. Even among plague and doom and gloom, some people still need to make a living. Not Tris. Asshole. But listen, he's got his very fancy camera in hand anyway, snapping shots of this unique Friday the 13th in human history. To humans, he'd barely stand out except for his rumpled-rolled-out-of-bed sexiness factor and the faint scar lines on his face and exposed forearms. He's in his designer tee-shirt (black with some screen printing on it of some artistic bent) and designer jeans (tastefully pre-distressed) and his neon athletic shoes.

For those who see beyond the Mask, the Changeling stands out like a fucking lighthouse. Almost literally. The raised ridges of gossamer scars that riddle his form, drawing down the back of his neck, around his ears, all over forearms with weirdly misjointed tattoos, and most prominently down the right side of his face from temple to jaw, with spindles of vein-like ridges reaching up his cheek, he's literally aglow. It's not enough to see by, but every one of those raised scars snatches the available light, splits the available light into spectrum - tonight cotton candy pink, violet and lurid orange mixed all along those lines, at least until he moves into a new source of light.

He flashes a rakish smile to a pair of college girls whose picture he took against the backdrop of one of the empty store fronts transformed for the night and moves along into the crowd, his prowl slow, his movements the smooth roll of the Beast he is. Oh, and anyone seeing through that Mask within two arms of him gets treated to the heat of sunbathing in the desert at high noon. It's fine, right?

Aww yeah, carnivals. Teenage Fen is all about this sort of nightlife. The goofy fun, the barkers, the noise and lights. Imaging she was a carnie and free of the constraints of normal life. Whiiiiich she is now, kinda. So that's a bit of (younger) teenage fantasy she's happy to just ride for funz and not take seriously. As for the pandemic scare... Yeah she's not really been paying attention to that. It's someone else's problem. Our pink-haired Fen is wearing layered blank and white tank tops over fading jeans. Sneakers. Bangs strategically layered to make her eyepatch less conspicious. Something she's had a lot of practice at. Of course in real life no one /intentionally blinds themselves/ with their hairstying choices but whatever, it's one thing or the other. Anyway she's just a small form in a big crowd so who cares. She's wandering around, taking in the signts and sounds, looking for a friend she hopes to meet here.

Seraphine didn't come with any pizza, but she did come with a big bottle of bourbon. And as she spots Ramsey, Way and Axle, she pulls it out and raises it in a toast their way before guzzling some down. She is willing to share of course! She's forgone the usual 6" heels for shiny, patent leather thigh high boots, a little black flared mini and a black knit top that falls off one shoulder to reveal a black lace tank top underneath; black and purple hair worn sleek and straight. "Hi guys!"

Unfortunately, Selah might just stand out in this particular crowd. Dressed in all black with a black -- Burberry at that -- trenchcoat belted over it. But what might stand out the most is the sunglasses the tall woman is wearing. She even keeps her head tilted away from the more bright displays and booths. For the moment, she's just... drifting.

The outside food and drink might make all those greasy fried food vendors sadface, but it's not obstruction to getting the appropriate wristbands because paying customer is a paying customer, hey? Lucky for Fawn and Marek though, there seems to be absolutely NOBODY in line at the funnel cake stall. There was somebody, but they're now way over there, coughing into their own food and the wyrd-ly bright photographer comes closer, is that a skittering of insects heard?

"So which would you rather have?" Fawn asks Marek as she walks by his side, her grin wide and chin lifted, eyes on his face.. and occasionally that stuffed dog's head. "Candy apples or funnel cakes? You know, they make so many different kinds of funnel cakes now. I once saw this place that had oreo-batter funnel cakes.. Drizzle chocolate onto it? YUM." Fawn makes a face at that, then sighs. It sounds good! She leans into Marek's side and slips an arm around his waist in return, staying close as she walks along.

What kind of upstanding citizen would Tris be if he did not pause as he comes abreast of the coughing individual to say, "Want a photo before you head home?" Because obviously, the coughing person ought to be home and not endangering their fellow man. How dare. It's not the only person who gets the Crimson Courtier's particular attention though, his eyes catch and stay on Way. (Can he be blamed?) It's probably pretty inappropriate, but that doesn't change the fact that he puts a hand to the side of his mouth and calls, "HEY. You Way?" to the racoon, an up-nod acknowledging his various compatriots. Evidently Way's reputation precedes him, however. Still, he's standing there, just by coughing dude who left the funnel cake line waiting for his answer about the picture.

"Oh Hey, Rambo, did you want some of this?" Way asks, holding up a slice of that pizza dripping with heartburn waiting to happen. "I don't know if this place even has clowns, but god I hope so. I want to see that." he remarks to Axle with a chuckle. Then Seraphine catches up with them and she is also offered a slice of that pizza. "FEE! There you are!" a pause and he adds, "Okay are we all here? Shall we?" Then he heads for the front with no notion what-so-ever this might be a bad idea.

Yes for those who can see it, the Gremlin resembles what normal people call a 'racoon' or 'trash panda', but don't dare call him that! When he hears his name from out of nowhere, the Lost turns his attention to Tris. Oh hey, he looks kind of familiar, "Who's askin? Oh, I know you...sorta. What is going on?"

Ramsey lifts a hand and says "Hey, Sera," and does note most of his social circle's attendance of the rust carnival all on their own agendas. He pauses, inspecting one of the carnival games that is the ball toss at the milk bottles, squinting a little, suspicious, and then tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans before looking up as he's offered pizza. "Oh, hey, yes? Yes. Thanks," then peers at the figure addressing Way, curiously.

Marek isn't even sure what kind of question he's being asked. Funnel cakes or... apples? He scoffs as he says, "Funnel cakes!" with a bright grin. "Apples are a dirty trick that they play on kids." He puffs up and tries to chuckle, but the nineteen year old just sort of giggles anyway. He blushes at his failure and clears his throat. "We should see if they do, like, the funnel cake sundaes! Ice cream would be so bomb right now, for real."

The photographer's shout attracts his attention, glancing over at him and then the victim of the shout, Way. He almost trips, but for Fawn's support. He looks around with an almost panicked look, but after a deep breath, he clears his throat and glances behind him with a dirty look, as if he just tripped over something.

Phoebe is drawn by all the noise, all the lurid lights, all the--everything. As one would well predict, she looks utterly overwhelmed by the spectacle. A relieved expression crosses her face as she sees Tris, and the Bright One rapidly hurries to his side. "This is remarkable. What is it?"

At one of the more 'Friday the 13th Spoopiness' displays, Selah stops to turn and stare at it. She tucks her hands into her pockets and looks nothing short of bemused.

Those innocent looking milk bottles just begging to be knocked down? Totally not a trap and totally not rigged. Does this look like the sort of establishment that would do such a thing??? There's no ice cream, but there are "FRESH, HOT, FUNNELCAKES!!!" from a man that looks like he's been formed out of leftover fryer oil. Does a human flesh even come in that skintone of yellow?

Axle reaches the crust end of her pizza; she's no savage, she eats the crust part, too, and doesn't just chuck it aside. Eventually she licks her greasy fingers and quips, "If there's no clowns I'll find someone else to boot. It's one of those nights." But she appears to be in good spirits, dressed in a pair of overalls with a bright, canary yellow tank top underneath it, her feet tucked into her usual motorcycle boots. And she's wearing some leftover Mardi gras beads or good measure. Seraphine is offered a big hug in greeting, before she watches the exchange between Tris and Way.

Fen spends a good few minutes watching one of the midway games. It's all a scam of course. But it's an entertaining one. Life is rigged against the player, always has been, just trying to figure it out and work around. She'd never play any of these games. But she'll watch and cheer.

Gasping at Marek, Fawn says, "You have to be kidding me.. You mean to say you don't like the sticky, sweet, pull-a-filling-out, red dye number forty coated apples? Do I even know you?" she hisses at him, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she tries to keep a serious expression going. It fails, and soon enough she's grinning again. "But alright.. Funnel cakes it is! Mm.. that does sound good. If they don't have it, I'm sure some other vendor can sell us some ice cream for a d-i-y!" she exclaims in a happy tone. When Marek almost trips, Fawn reaches up and moves the hand from his waist to his back, and she smiles a little softer. "You okay?" she checks, rubbing her palm along his back in a comforting way before lowering her arm all together. The funnel cake man is yelling and distracting her! So that's where she starts to go, yellow man or not. She hasn't noticed familiar faces just yet, but then again she hasn't looked away from Marek for very long, either. And funnel cakes rule.

Seraphine spots Fen and gives her a wave, inviting her over to their group if she's willing. She gives Axle a huge hug back and offers the bottle to anyone partaking in alcohol these days. "Did someone say clowns? Scary. It's totally cliché, but I really hate clowns." She shivers.

Oh yes, people! Carnival is no fun to wander on your own. Okay that's a lie it IS a bit fun to wander on your own but it's safer in groups. Not that she particularly needs to worry a lot on that front, but age-old habits are hard to break. Fen wanders over to join Seraphine and company. Upnods y'all. "Hey. S'up."

Marek steals a look over at Way and Tris as he says, rather unconvincingly, to Fawn, "Yeah. Everything is... fine. Just. Yeah. Fine. Tripped almost." He clears his throat and scans the area more closely. A walking, talking, pizza-eating raccoon and dude with a glowing face is enough to raise the hackles of the young wolf.

His eyes light on the yellow skinned funnel cake guy, but then it drops to the stand. His eyes flit from side to side and then he starts to steer Fawn away from the funnel cakes. "Yaknow? You're right. I should give the apples a second chance. Just because Scott Thompson beaned me in the head with one in second grade... I shouldn't hold a grude. No funnel cakes." The last is said with emphasis, Marek turning his head and giving his 'serious' face.

"Phoebe," Tris greets the Bright One with one of his many kinds of smiles. "This is a carnival. Probably illegal, but that's alright." The next smile he gives her is a reassuring one. YES, IT'S FINE THAT THERE ARE FEW SAFETY CODES IN OBSERVANCE. His attention is less on Phoebe, despite the luminous quality to her mien, one that causes his own to begin to agitate into more touches of rainbow hues here and there. The cast of the light is not far, just a little. He drifts away from the cougher and heads toward Way'n'company, making a gesture that invites Phoebe along with him.

On his way to Way, however, there's a squint toward the stand. The funnel cake stand. Something is wrong there, and so he glances toward not only Way, but Seraphine, having identified them as my kind and he makes a gesture of his head in the direction of the stand. This brings him slowly, but surely, up toward Marek and Fawn. Perfectly non-threatening, of course, except that just everything about the way he moves, as understated as he makes it, screams PREDATOR and DANGER. It's fine. No one panic. Those scars probably aren't from unimaginable pain that might make a person crazy. Right?

Ramsey glances at the funnel cake stand, then at Fawn and Marek, then toward Sera and the other Fixers, then at the pizza he is accepted. "Did this come from here or somewhere else? Cause the answer to that is gonna be real important..."

"I freaking love clowns. Have you seen It? Or that one about the Joker? THe new one...And don't forget Gacy." Way begins to ramble when they are talking about face painted, kid loving, old men...okay that is creepy. His attention drifts from Sera to Fen as the one-eyed girl is invited over to join them. "Oh...she doesn't like me much. I have no idea why. I told her I love pirates." His voice falls quiet when Fen approaches though and he opens the pizza box to offer her a slice of that oily goodness, an olive branch so to speak. Either way, he sets the box on the ground, leaving it there to take Axle's hand as they wander the carnival. "We got that from town, not here...why?"

His attention falls on Tris and Phoebe though as they are eye-balling him and the Fixers, looking at the stand in question when it garners so much attention. He begins to head in that direction, curious more than anything. Then to Ramsey he adds, "It's good. We ate it. No Crow Virus."

Fawn looks like she may start to protest the change of heart, but when Marek makes -that- face she gives a slight nod. "..Okay. Sure.. Candy apples it is!" The brunette blinks a little and looks back to the grease that bubbles away.. Yeah. Good call on that one. Also great since she didn't even notice what's headed towards that stand. Ew! As she's heading away from it with Marek and catches sight of Tris she gives a slight pause in her step, flashing Marek a quick sort of 'you know this guy?' sort of look.

No panic? Simpson the funnel cake guy visibly gulps as he gets stared at from one wolf... two wolf... and more. Just seconds ago, he may have been calling out about how fresh and hot his cakes were, but even with Fawn right there, he doesn't even try to continue a hard sell fast. "Uhhh... break time. No more cakes!" He reaches out to slam the little order window shut but in the process, about four roaches come falling out of his sleeve. Not the itty bitty baby roaches, nope, the JUMBO ones, but he's staring more at the crowd than the insects as the bugs rush out to FREEDOM.

Phoebe follows after Tris. She smiles happily at Seraphine and Way. "Oh, hello," she says politely. "I have not met either of you before." Her accent is strange. Very old. Over a hundred years old, in fact. "Do you know Monsieur Tris?"

Ramsey nods slowly to Way and keeps an eye out over his shoulder at the funnel cake stand and the guy there, before he scarfs down his piece of pizza and steps up to the booth to pick up the ball, hefting it absently as if he's going to use it for something other than its intended purpose, but then tosses some tickets to the attendant. He does seem... Troubled by something though, not really parsing the changeling strangeness happening as much as he might otherwise.

The pizza? Axle points out, "I bought it from this old Romani woman who had a pizza oven in her wagon. She said it would put hair on my nackers," the wolf-blood tells Ramsey, grinning at him, heading off to wander the grounds of the carnival with him, seeming a bit preoccupied tonight compared to other nights, and mildly sleepy-eyed.

That's a pass on the pizza, Fen waving off Way's piece offering. She will ignore the pirate joke. Because she's trying to keep her chill. M'be he'll catch COVID or something. Be a shame. Tragic. "This carnival a Mardi Gras thing or a Friday 13th thing?" She doesn't know. Hasn't been in town long. Also not totally caring but whatever, trying to make conversation. The drama at the food stuffs hasn't really caught her attention. She's not really into food like she used to be.

Well that there's curious. Selah overhears the commotion at the funnel cake stand, turning towards it with an arch of brow. The clad-in-black (though that seems to be a common enough theme) woman begins to amble on over. The sunglasses still, however, remain right where they are.

Marek growls deep in his chest as he focuses his attention on the situation. His arm around Fawn gets a little tighter as he pulls her closer. He whispers quietly, "Could you pardon me for a sec? Roach spirit is infesting this place." He makes an ick face and flits his attention back to the raccoon, just to make sure it's not some funkadelic raccoon spirit. Weird.

Marek pecks Fawn on the cheek. "Be right back." He then tries to slip, surreptitiously behind the stall to get a good look at the yellow dude and maybe, just maybe, divine some of Simpson's secrets.

"Oh that seems completely normal." remarks the Gremlin as the funnel cake guy tries to get lost and leaves a trail of fat roaches...and not the good ones you can smoke. "Yeah I'm still not even sure what nackers are..." Wayfarer adds to the comment from his companion, shrugging shoulders. When Fen turns down his offer of pizza he huffs a bit, "You'll never put on any weight or...hair on your nackers like that." Oh well, not his problem. The Changeling pulls Axle toward the funnel cake stand, "I'm thinking this is something else. Mardi Gras is over...and who ever heard of a Friday the 13th carnival?" Marek gets a return glare as if daring him to say something, whiskers bristled. "Should we look around some more?" he asks the Fixers in a low voice.

Axle puts a hand at the crotch of her overalls and grabs a nonexistent bulge there, telling Way, "Balls, Blue Eyes. Cajones." She heads on toward the funnel cakes with him, in his tow, telling him, "Mardi Gras is every day if you have nice titties."

Ramsey makes a throw, not really looking, then turns to join the others as the other wolf that he really only knows in animal form but has extrapolated the identity of with his context clues goes toward the stand and then the Fix Squad does. "Aaaalmost certainly. And here I thought this was going to be a normal good time, like karaoke, or dancing."

Growling.. and near Tris? Fawn looks between Marek and Tris with a semi-confused expression, one brow lifted and her usual smile missing, but the whisper that soon follows clears things up. "Oh.." she says a bit distracted, her brain having not registered it yet. When it does she blinks, standing a bit taller. Roach spirit? Oh lort. Please don't let them be the flying kind!! Fawn turns her face to watch as Marek slips off.. with that big dog on his back. Yeah. They should have played the games before leaving! She looks away once Marek is out of sight, and as she stands there glancing about she gives Tris a curious look before spotting Axle and Way nearby. She'll send them a quick smile if they happen to see each other. Tris pages: Dramatic failures need to have a big impact of some kind. So I'd think 2L makes it dramatic enough?

Well. There were notable health and safety violations arleady, what are a handful of ENORMOUS COCKROACHES coming out of someone's sleeve. Except. That guy? That weird-looking funnel-cake-selling yuck-factory? He doesnt' ping on the kenning radar as vampire, which is really the only quarter Tris might expect such a richly gross display from. Thus, the man with the glowing scars steps up, potentially right along the-- yep, smells like a puppy, is probably a puppy. He casts Marek a side-long look, assessing, but really the closing up shop is what he's trying to stop.

"Surely not, with so many eager patrons." He quips, although, with health and safety codes being what they are, perhaps he'll be excused for trying to leap himself up and over the counter. Unfortunately, the Beast misjudges both the narrowness of the window and the amount of grease on the ledge. Fucking funnel cakes. As a result, when he lifts himself, he slams his head right off the side partion, opening a bloody gash in his forehead that has him rebounding dramatically to the ground, flat on his back with an exhale that probably was supposed to be a curse word. Tris takes some lethal and is now lightly bleeding.

Phoebe moves her attention from Way and Seraphina to Tris. "Wh--oh, monsieur, now you are injured," she says worriedly. The woman produces a handkerchief and presses it hard against the man's forehead. "You should be more careful," she tells him. "You know how the vampires are when they smell blood, yes? It is like they are animals--and they might be here, at this strange carnival."

That someone would dare try to encROACH upon the food stall, has Funnel Cake Man hissing as he pulls back into the truck and turning tail to run. Not fast enough to avoid Marek's circling around though because right as he's opening the trailer door, there he is face to face with the Blood Talon. It's alright, he's got more than just those few roaches up his sleeve. The spirit-man mumbles a few words and from underneath the trailer a dark swarm of roaches emerges as a barrier. Have to part the roach sea to get to him, but the swarm is also trying to encircle Marek.

Seraphine's phone buzzes and she wanders off before she can engage with any roaches. She seems engrossed and never quite makes it back to the excitement.

And then there, not far behind Phoebe, is Selah. If one looks close enough beyond those sunglasses, they'll see pure black eyes. No whites. No iris. Just darkness. Some grade A contacts, eh? But what she says is: "I imagine if vampires are around, they would be more upset at the idea they'd be unable to control themselves." While her command of English is excellent, there is a definite accent there. Something... Middle Eastern, perhaps? Just enough to mark her as Not American. She looks up, however, at the sound of... wings? Something critterly. And then begins to circle the trailer.

Eyes widen as Tris tries to jump the counter and bites it big time. "Oh shit...that looks like it hurt. Did you guys see that?" Wayfarer asks, making sure the others witnessed that awesome event. "Damn it. I didn't have my phone out. That one could have gone viral!" The Gremlin dares use the word viral even now with Covid going around, cause he has zero Fs to give. Making his way over a little closer, Way peers down at the other Lost and asks, "You okay? That was awesome..." He does glance at Pheobe and waves a bit, having met her at least once. Then people scatter...like roaches and he huffs. "Somebody going to catch that creepy guy?" he wonders.

Phoebe looks at Selah and shakes her head. "I have seen them before, madame. It is like a disease. Pitiable, but that is the fate the Lord has ordained for them." She is very confident about vampires. Obviously, Phoebe is the expert here.


Marek flashes Simpson a smile as they all but collide behind the funnel cake stand. Marek gives a little growl, but then looks rather unsure as the piles of roaches scramble over each other in one of the most disgusting tides to ever come in. He tries to steel himself, starting to mumble an old incantation to get rid of the spirit, or at least, push it back where it belongs for the day.

Marek gets louder and gestures harshly at Simpson, pointing at the yellow imposter. It looks like it might just work! For all the words and snarls, though, in the end, nothing at all happens and Marek can only brace himself, waiting for the waves of disgusting to crash around him.

Tris' eyes glint briefly like an animal's when he turns his head just so, groaning, looking after Selah, her words snagging his brain for a moment - maybe it's the way they're spoken, some niggling memory stirred. But then his attention is drawn back to the immediate, and that's Phoebe with her handkerchief. He squints up at her a moment, two. "She is one," is confused murmur, bound to be helpful to the Bright One, right? And the Crimson Courtier rolls onto his side, more or less ignoring that helpful handkerchief to get himself up.

"Fine," he tells Way. He's bleeding from that head gash, down his temple, it's fine, for a Summer, who's heated mantle is only beginning to roil with the mirage shimmer of starting to be truly pissed off. If there weren't so many damn mortals around... ugh, but there are. "You'd better go round," he tells them, before the air ripples with Glamour released and the Beast is making that climb up and in through the window as if the grease were nothing and he were merely the spider scuttling up and in through a tight space to flank Mr. Cockroach Man.

"Well." Selah glances back at Phoebe, then away. TOO BRIGHT. Lucky for her, she's not like one of those Nossies whose mere presence can cause discomfort. Nah, Mekhet are much more restrained than that. "Perhaps it is instead that they walked into their own damnation. so long as their fate is viewed as a reason to walk a more Godly path." There's a smile. One that doesn't extend to the rest of her face or body language. No, no, away from the walking bit-o-sun and around to the commotion behind the trailer. It's darker back there. Less blindly bright people. As she goes, she's pulling a big ass blade out from under her coat. Not sword-big, but definitely more than a butter knife. "Need a hand?" She's asking Marek. Right? As if a swarm is an everyday sort of thing.

For just a moment, Way observes Marek and Tris trying to stop the vender. Then that strange swarm comes about, and the Gremlin is an expert on what is strange, so yeah it is STRANGE. While they are messing around with the vendor, and/or trying to get away from that nasty swarm of roaches, he begins to grab up pieces of various things laying around. A battery here, some wire there, a conductor...something to use as a capacitor, then a roll of duck tape from his pack and all of it is put together. It takes Wayfarer a matter of moments to build the...device and he looks at it. "This should work."

A wolf without his pack is a lonely, sad little thing. Marek failed in his one gambit and is just at a loss of what to do now. He's heartened by Selah's appearance and the glowing dude coming back to help though. It inspires him to at least try... something. He focuses on the incoming swarm and scrambles, hopping up onto the top of the funnel cake stand, out of the reach of the mindless swarm. "Fire," he announces. "It's... umm... Kill it wif FIRE!" He flits his gaze to Simpson, trying to keep an eye on him for further pursuit.

Phoebe flushes a brilliant quicksilver as she realizes how far, exactly, her foot is in her mouth with relation to vampires. She races towards the swarm, arms outstretched. "Cover your eyes, madame! And you, foul things--stay /away/ from him!" she shouts. There's a pulse of light, suddenly, and then the Bright One is blazing like a silver sun. Shadows are obliterated as her hair and skin explode into glaring luminescence.

Subtlety is for lesser beings; Phoebe Delacroix is one of the Fairest.

The warning is enough. Well, it is when you're a vampire who has the gift of Celerity. But Selah was already second-guessing her presence when Marek starts talking about -fire- of all things. Fire bad. Fire very bad. And so there's a blur and the black-clad woman is gone. Zoooom.

Fawn is, for the most part, unaware of just how gross things are going back there with the funnel cake man. She stands near where she was left, eyes occasionally glancing towards where Marek had slipped off to, and though she looks curious she doesn't go check it out. At least not yet. He'll be back any second, right? Fawn takes notice of.. more people heading that way and disappearing, so she gives in to her curiosity and starts to wander back as well. About that time she hears the shouting, and because she hasn't already seen enough crazy in this town she starts to head towards it!

Did you think Marek and Selah were going to get all the swarmy goodness? Fear not! Or Do Fear (up to you!) Changelings and wolf-bloods alike! While Funnel-Cake-Roach-Man's swarm might not have swallowed the werewolf like he's expecting, it's enough of a distraction for him to turn and try to run. He tries to run only to come face to face with Tris and then Phoebe is lighting up like the sun itself as far as he's concern, tossing a hand over his eyes and with a hiss he begins to meta. The swarm tries to flee as well. Screw the lightning bug changelings. Half the roaches (which is still fairly sizeable number) go under the trailer and out towards Fawn and Way.

There's a lot of weird things at this creepy carnival. The weirdest is NOT the fact that Tris' hand lashes out to snatch up partially melted ice from that cooler at his foot and jam it into his mouth (that can't be sanitary) and chomp it VIOLENTLY. It's probably (definitely) weirder that the man with the glowing scars, all prismatic rainbows in the face of Phoebe's light, grows. He's a grower not a shower, folks, and here is Tris becoming bigger and badder, right there by roach man, and boy oh boy, does the Summer servant of wrath look pissed.

In the midst of all the crazy going on, the Gremlin seeks to ADD to the chaos in his own special way of helping. What better to deal with a sea of filthy roaches than LOTS OF SHOCKS?! His device prepared, and damn he did a nice job on this one...Way almost doesn't want to use it, but instead hold on and show it off to others. Naw. With a nice lob, the device soars a short ways and lands right at the feet of the roach man, and as soon as it hits ZAAAAAAAP! It sends a shock outward from the device in a sizzle as electricity courses through everything in the area.

Way says, “Look out...”

Yeah, something is definitely going down over there! Fawn decides she'll start to try and go around just as something nearby goes ZAP.. and oh no. What the actual fuck?! Seeing that wave of roaches rushing out in her direction is a big NOPE from Fawn, and the girl tries to do a quick turn around to head the other way and hightail it out of there! Of course, tonight of all nights she tried to wear wedge sandals, and though they're great for making her legs look nice, they're shit for running. Is it any surprise Fawn goes wobbling in her heels and takes a parkinglot gravel to the knee? Cause there she goes! Ouch.

Between Simpson's flexing spiritual might and then Way's bug zapper, Marek doesn't really stand a chance. He teeters and falls on top of the Funnel Cake Hut with a dull thud, unable to even groan. He does manage to smoke and sizzle in Simpson's general direction though! Take THAT! Unnnngh.

The blinding light is suddenly extinguished as Phoebe convulses and screams in pain. The woman falls to the ground, shuddering, clawing at herself, and she curls up into a whimpering ball in the dirt.

Poor lightbulb.

Look, Roach-man just wanted another perfectly ordinary day at work, and never asked for this! Just a little essence gather, that was it. As he manages to terrify the werewolf, he almost thought he could get away with it if it weren't for that meddling raccoon The roach man and his roaches take the brunt of the shock, right to his chest. And while the swarms are greatly reduced, a few still remain...

That Roach-man should probably be sweating, either figuratively or literally. With a pissed of Crimson Courtier at full strength, the funnel cake stand, which was surely fairly warm to begin with given the hot grease and the confined space is getting to be like a damned oven. Mouth of hell kind of oven. BAKE THIS BUG ALIVE OVEN and it's only going to get hotter as the enormous man's arms curl around that disgusting body (boy, Tris is gonna need a shower later) and in a rough grab that cares not for wrestling form, only function. STAY STILL.

Well luckily the roaches are leaving HIM alone, but Way notices they are still going for Fawn. Damn it. The Gremlin does a quick search around the area and finds a can under some boxes. It's a whole spray can of Roach Spray! No way!

Stepping in between Fawn and the swarm of roaches, he covers his mouth with one hand as he unloads the entire can on the encroaching bugs with full sweeping motions...

As Fawn is pushing herself back up to stand she casts a glance over her shoulder and back towards where the roaches had come from. That zapping sound and a certain groan has caught her ear, and with a sudden very concerned look on her face Fawn glances about in search of it. The girl is dusting the tiny bits of asphalt from her palms when she sees the one she is looking for in a place she didn't expect, and her eyes widen in horror. She's staring up at Marek, shocked and suddenly still until that flash of Way cutting in front of her gets her attention. She quickly takes a few (more cautious) steps back to give him room as the spray gets its work on! She covers her mouth against her arm, glancing from the roaches, to Way, to Marek and back.

Phoebe is curled up on the ground, crying softly. Somebody doesn't like electricity. It's Phoebe. Phoebe does not appreciate being shocked with powerful blasts of electricity.

This Friday the 13th was certainly unlucky... unlucky for Roach Man! Within the summery changeling's grapple, he can barely do anything more than flail the antenae that had appeared from under his hairline. The swarm is too big a target for Way's roach-spray to miss and boy is it effective. From all the way on the other side of the trailer, the Roach-Man begins to cough and... well good thing for Tris' clothes he doesn't actually squash like a giant bug, more just disintegrates into a horde of tiny, tiny baby roaches that just scatter to the wind (or any dark corner they can find).

There is finally a groan from up on the roof. Marek's already nearly healed from the ordeal, but he still can't -quite- stand yet. He rolls from the roof, landing on wobbly legs. He takes a moment to assess what the heck is even going on. Bug spray on one side, giant fire giants wrasslin' bug spirits on the other. He takes a moment to shake and clear his head, before he sees Phoebe on the ground crying. He focuses on her and rushes forward to lend medical attention. "Hi," he says, trying to be soothing, even as his own bruises and burns slowly disappear before her eyes. "Can you stand up? I'm Marek."

Once the can of RAID is empty, he tosses it carelessly aside, in the general area from where Way found it. "Well that worked...I'm a little amazed." the Changeling remarks off hand, looking up and around now to see who is still around. His group left, likely scared to death by a swarm of dirty roaches, cause that was nasty. When his gaze sweeps across to the others he mutters, "Oh, hey...sorry about that." this seems to be directed at Phoebe mostly. "Everybody okay? What just happened?"

If anything, Marek approaching makes the situation worse. Wide golden eyes meet his blue ones with a vacant gaze, and Phoebe scrabbles helplessly in the dirt, raising her hands up defensively. "No, no," she cries out. "I'll be good, I'll be good--please, no more."

Fawn watches as those nasty things are soon dying or fleeing, and she looks to Way with an amazed sort of look in her eyes. "That.. What the fuck?" She brushes her hands together again and looks around slowly to make sure no more roaches are running around, and she murmurs, "Who woulda thought.." about the raid. "Thanks, Way," she says then, her smile slowly returning as she moves a bit closer to him and gives his left shoulder a soft squeeze.

Marek backs off Phoebe, nostrils flaring, wondering why he can't smell the spirit. Nobody else freaks when a wolf around other than spirits in his experience. His brow furrows in confusion as he tries to work out just what the changelings are. His eyes shift from Phoebe to Tris and then to Way, his brow furrowing deeper and his bruises finally just gone. If it weren't for the singes on his suit, one would be hard pressed to identify that he'd been hurt at all.

Finally, he flits his attention to what he does understand and rushes to Fawn instead. "Are you okay?" He scans her furtively, checking for roaches almost obsessively.

Gross. But it definitely could have been worse for the Summer-sworn Lost, who after one glance about is abruptly shrinking back to his normal proportions, giving his body an animalistic shake and striding like a scary Prince Charming over to take a knee at Phoebe's side. He does actually reach a hand briefly toward Marek's shoulder in passing in some kind of silent acknowledgement of his efforts, but once he's with the Bright One, he's reaching for her, without any kind of hesitation, to draw the other Lost into those scarred arms.

"Phoebe, do you know the story about the two brothers who hunted the moon?" The Beast's voice drops low and he keeps the rendition brief, the words providing more than just soothing as the magic ripples in way that may be felt by those sensitive to it. The gist of the story is that two brothers who hunted every day together set out to hunt the moon, but the moon, being clever, captured one of the brothers and took them away. The remaining brothers scoured the Earth and finally the heavens and took his brother's place, so great was the bond of their kinship.

As he speaks, he's drawn a pen knife from the pocket of his jeans and cut his palm just enough to drip blood on the worst of the evident singe that is Phoebe's wounds. Hers heal there, and a sizzle runs up Tris' bare arm, mimicking the wound that was... but much worse.

Phoebe weeps silently as she is taken into Tris' arms. Her arms clutch desperately at his, and her eyes still stare widely at nothing. Her mouth moves in a constant whisper--"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

As the tale progresses, focus is slowly restored to her vision, and she shakes her head slightly. She looks around, still wide-eyed, then looks at Tris. "I thought I was back in the cage," she says. "I thought..." She shakes her head again. "You're wounded," the Bright One says, and she raises a hand to place against his chest. Her hair, silver like moonlight, suddenly erupts into a bloom of pale white camellias. The petals drop from her hair and are caught on a warm spring wind. They swirl around and dissolve into a fragrant mist, which covers Tris. It isn't much, but there is something health-giving about the mist. Minor wounds are less severe, now, small cuts erased as though they were never inflicted.

As she releases her little squeeze to Way's shoulder, Fawn turns slightly just as Marek is again beside her, and with a warm smile she says, "I'm okay.. More embarrassed.. really," she admits with a soft laugh. "I think the last time I took a dive like that was.. maybe sixth grade?" Now she's starting to laugh a little at both herself and the way Marek is checking her over. She turns this way and that in a playful way, laughing a bit as she says, "I'm okay.. Really. I promise." Still, the fact that he checks so thoroughly makes her smile quite a bit. "What about -you-? That was scary.. If cool," she notes with a slight grin for Way.

Looking around, Way gives a little smile and a wave to Fawn. "You okay?" he asks, helping her up if she needs it still. With that, he heads over to the rest of the group and lifts his brows, "So, what just happened there?" Yes, for Marek, it looks like a racoon is talking to them.

"It's alright, Phoebe. You're here. At the creepy carnival. In our world." Tris' words are very firm and he can help the Bright One to her feet as the mist resolves itself around him. Alas for Tris is still bleeding from his head and where did his camera get to in all that? Long forgotten now, probably broken somewhere (or stolen). He'll even put an arm around Phoebe's shoulders if she'll consent to be led and head toward Way, Marek and Fawn.

Marek notices Tris reach for him on his way to Fawn, but shies away some, unsure of what he is. He does muster a shy, if confused, kind of smile for the Summer though.

After he's sure Fawn is all good, Marek finally lets a smile slip. It lasts until the raccoon speaks again and that creased brow returns. He looks between Way and Fawn and seems to determine that what he sees can't really be what she sees. Or the rest of the carnival earlier, for that matter.

Finally, Marek settles on addressing Fawn, suggesting, "I think it's time for going home now." He gulps, eyes widening as the Bright Ones are heading his way. He fidgets nervously, looking all the more ridiculous with the big, stuffed cream colored puppy dog sitting atop his head like a shaman's cowl. He gives the stuffed animals paw a squeeze, wishing he had an actual packmate here all of a sudden.

Phoebe clings to Tris as though he is a lifeboat. She is shivering, but she manages a weak smile to Marek and the others. "I... I thank you. I am sorry that I could not be of more use--there was a pain, a great pain, and I became so enervated, all at once..." She shudders visibly. "You are... you are Uratha?"

"Whooaaaa, slow your roll, big man." comes the remark from Way as he peers up at Marek. Of course Marek is only big guy to him, but the Gremlin stays in front of Fawn for the moment. He has no clue who this guy is yet. Half the guy's height, maybe, he isn't the least bit affraid. (Though that could be a complete lack of self-preservation). "Fawn, you know this dude?" he asks his Markley Mate, ears flattening back on his head in warning.

"Yeah, I'm good.." Fawn says to Way before she is looking to Marek once more, starting to move closer to him before she realizes Way isn't going to move. The brunette gives a soft laugh at that, and she gives a soft smile while saying to her friend, "Yes, Way.. I know him.. And he's a good guy, alright? I haven't really brought him by yet, but.." She leaves it at that, giving Marek an apologetic smile. She tries to take a few steps around Way so she may move closer to Marek and give him what she tries to make a comforting hug. "We can go.. Want to get ice cream on the way? Funnel cakes really are overrated."

Though one arm is around Phoebe, the other is fishing into a back pocket for an expensive looking wallet. Tris releases the Bright One long enough to procure three business cards as they arrive near (but not too near, given the present protective maneuvering). "I'm going to take Phoebe home. I'm Tris. Get in touch, if you like." That seems to be a universal offer, as the three cards are spread between his fingers and extended toward Marek, Fawn and Way. This is hardly the most traditional method of networking, but one makes do.

Marek isn't the brightest of wolves ever, but he starts to see the bigger picture, or at least a little of it. Ramsey had warned him that his pack was a touch unorthodox, but Way's reaction speaks of pack. "Intelligence and fearlessness," he says mostly to himself with the hint of a smile as he considers the spiritual significance usually attributed to raccoons. He blinks and then smiles full on, taking in the Changelings without quite so much hesitation.

He nods to Phoebe, offering, "Yeah. I am." Then to Way he introduces himself as, "Marek," while offering his hand. He glances at the offered business card and takes it gingerly, tucking it into his slack's pocket.

"Retiring would be nice," Phoebe says weakly. "I am Phoebe Delacroix. I do not understand what happened here, but I believe that something wicked was stopped. I am grateful. Perhaps we might make each other's acquaintances another time. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, messieurs. Madame."

Once Fawn says he is okay, Way relaxes and gives the Uratha a little smile. "Oh, well okay then. Nice to meet you." he offers and shakes the hand, tilting his head at Marek a bit. "I'm Wayfarer...or just Way. Sorry about that little jolt back there." the Gremlin remarks, glancing between Fawn and her friend. Then his attention goes to Tris and Phoebe. He takes the card from the Beast and half grins, "You leaving already? There is more carnaval to see..." A glance to the Bright One and he adds, "She should be fine in a few minutes." He actually seems a bit dissappointed for the end of the night.

Fawn looks content as exchanges are made between those that survived the great roach attack of 2020, and she happily takes the business card from Tris, looking it over before tucking it away in her little drawstring bag. She is happy to listen to the others as they talk to one another for now.

The grin that the scarred Beast tosses to the Wizened speaks strongly of a troublemaker's streak. "Oh, Way. I'll be back." If he doesn't get caught up in something else. "Can't keep me away from a good time." That's all teeth. They're mundane teeth, and yet there's a feral quality to the look, the slightest touch of madness. But who returns from There wholly sane? Probably not this one that looks taken apart and stitched back together with the glowing thread, now returned to pink, purple and orange. "Unless you'd like to stay?" Tris offers to Phoebe. He does add, "I need to make a call in any case." Lest some other poor member of the freehold be caught here unaware of the danger. To the other three, he adds, "You can find me in Asylum some nights, if you don't like to text." Or just happen to like public places with loads of witnesses.

Phoebe shakes her head. "I would much prefer to retire," she says. "It is very... lurid, here, and reminiscent of Mistress' balls."

Marek smiles a little at Phoebe, offering, "Dude was a manifested roach spirit. Left unattended, they bring supernatural plagues, start possessing people and breeding like, well, roaches. They can be pretty tough to kill too."

Marek shakes the raccoon's hand, his grip pleasantly firm and rather professional. "Nice to meet you, Way." He shakes his head and lifts a hand, forestalling Way's apology. "No worries. My little brother's shot me in the back more times than I can count. Little shock is nothin'."

He crosses to stand beside Fawn and wraps an arm around her waist, just... needing someone close for a moment. Wolves is needy.

With a careless shrug, Wayfarer gives them a wave, "No worries. You know where to find me." Well at least Fawn does, but he doesn't think about that right at the moment. Instead, the Gremlin gives them a grin and scurries off to go find more trouble since they are all leaving.

Some of what the new faces are talking about goes right over Fawn's head, but she's curious enough to likely be thinking about it later. She looks from Marek over to Way then, and she gives a wave to him before her attention is upon Marek once more. Having his arm around her waist makes her smile more, and she steps in closer to hug herself against his side in the most comforting way she can. When she looks up to him she says, "Good thing doggo was up there to protect you.." she teases at him, her smile going bright.

This time, Tris takes Phoebe's elbow rather than put his arm around her. "My car is this way." That and a nod for anyone catching his eye is all that there seems to need to be before the Beast is on his way to his matte black Lotus Evora and drive the Fairest home.

Phoebe leans heavily on Tris as he guides her to the car. The woman is not used to walking while injured, it seems.