livinglot | ⇨ TEST DRIVE MEME #2

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test drive meme

⇨ TEST DRIVE MEME #2

WELCOME TO THE SHOW!↴

Or, more specifically, Lost Carnival's test drive meme! This is an opportunity to try out your characters in the setting before you apply, or to put together samples for characters you've never played before. There are going to be options for both new arrivals and veteran characters. Before we get started, let's lay down some details:

You can read the full premise here.
Reserves and Applications are both currently OPEN.
You can apply as a newcomer or as a "veteran" character who has been in the carnival for up to three years. In the case of veteran characters, you will need to come up with an explanation of why they haven't been around the carnival recently.
TDM threads can be used as game canon after the fact if both characters are accepted and the players agree to it.
If you are interested in additional IC and OOC plot responsibilities, consider applying for a Supervisor position. Treasurer and Acquisitioner are currently open.

NEW RECRUITS↴

You gotta start somewhere, right? These prompts are for characters who are arriving in the carnival for the first time, and who are destined to sign a contract. How they go about that is up to you, but in the meantime they can enjoy the sights and sounds of something truly out of this world. Visitors to the carnival comes from many different worlds today, as the ringmaster casts out her recruitment lures. Will you become her most recent hire?

► ADMISSION FEES: After crossing into the carnival's realm and passing through the trees, most visitors will find themselves at the front gate - though not all choose to enter that way. If they enter legitimately, however, they will have to pass by a clerk who will trade admission and tickets for various attractions and rides in exchange for "anything of value." What is of value may seem highly subjective, and so some may struggle to produce payment at first, though in actuality the carnival will take anything from mundane currency to items of purely sentimental value.

► MIRROR MAZE: The mirror maze (pictured above) is a big attraction in the carnival, and stretches much further on the inside than it looks like it will on the outside. It's hard to get through, and what's more, after you've been in there for a while your reflections will start gaining a mind of their own - mostly in order to taunt and distract you with personal information. They don't know everything you know, but they know more than they should, and their mind games can be pretty hit or miss.

► GAMER'S CIRCLE: Almost all of the game booths are organized in a large ring around the Cookhouse, called Gamer's Circle. Your can play just about any carnival game you can imagine here, for a variety of prizes sometimes traditional, exotic, or outright magical. Dart tossing? Got it. That game with the water guns? Got it. Most of these booths are currently manned by humanoid spirits who look like they are made of smoke. If they can trick you into earning debt, they will.

► NOT YOUR WHEELHOUSE (NEW): Sometimes, even magical ferris wheels get stuck. The carnival's particular wheel is enchanted to create a particular out of this world experience - as you pass along the top, you feel as if they are so close to the sky that you can interact with the stars like baubles hanging above your head. Of course, the novelty probably wears off when the wheel is broken and you've been stuck enjoying the light show with some stranger for the last half hour. How are you going to pass the time?

► TRYING TO LEAF: No matter where you came from, you seemingly emerged from a forest. Obviously, to get back home you should be able to go back in the same direction, right? It turns out you can't. Worse, trying too hard to get through the wood will result in you getting lost, or turned back to the carnival. The trees here are not normal, and are varying levels of alien, including things like trees with glowing fruit or orange flowers that constantly burn like candles.

► WILD CARD: Anything else you can imagine in this setting! There are a lot of possibilities and you're free to explore them. Check out the rest of the game info or the locations page for additional inspiration. Want to make a starter with your character experiencing their first theoretical change? Go for it!

VETERAN WORKERS↴

These prompts are tailored to the carnival's existing employees, the veterans. Odds are they've been here from somewhere between a few months and three years already, and know their way around the block. For them, this is just business as usual - and depending on their attitude towards their job, they may or may not contribute to a few people accidentally getting themselves a contract. Whatever you do, though, don't warn visitors away from the carnival - the ringmaster hates losing business like that.

► DO YOUR WORK: This one's pretty simple - just have your character doing whatever you'd like to have their job be! There is a big list of ideas over here, and you could use this to try things out with a character you intend to be a new arrival, as well.

► WILL O' WISPS: The ringmaster's will o' wisps have gotten free, and she's asked that everyone keep and eye out and help her reclaim them regardless of their official jobs. Wisps are small creatures that burn both hot and cold and comes in a few different variations of the same basic theme. Handling them physically (or psionically, or magically, for that matter) is difficult due to their near intangible nature. Touching and being around them can result in confusion and a sensation similar to being comfortably drunk.

► BREAK TIME: Whatever you were doing, it's break time! It's time for you to relax however you see fit. Do you enjoy some of the carnival attractions yourself, or is that old by now? Do you hang out in the Cookhouse to get a snack? Do you take a nap? Yolo, baby!

► RIDDLE GAME: For a bit of fun, the ringmaster has left a variety of locked chests around the worker areas of the carnival, each with instructions and a riddle written on their lids. The chest will accept three guesses from each worker before refusing to respond to them any further. If you guess the right answer, the chest will open and you will be rewarded with some manner of fun magical knick knack. If you've run out of guesses, maybe you can conspire with someone else and promise to split the prize?

► CAPTURE THE... EGG? (NEW): The Ringmaster likes to keep things exciting for her employees, and this time she's devices a game that mixes an Easter egg hunt with capture the flag. She's hidden various metallic "eggs" around the carnival that chime like bells when people get near, and divided participants into three teams (red, blue, yellow of course.) The carnival has been divided into three zones, and the objective is to gather as many eggs as possible for your team (three points for gold, two for silver, one for copper.) However, when you are in a zone that doesn't belong to your team, if they can snatch off your team flag they can take you to "jail" and confiscate any eggs you may be holding for their team. When in doubt, bullshit the rules! This is a prompt, after all.

► WILD CARD: Anything else you can imagine in this setting! There are a lot of possibilities and you're free to explore them. Check out the rest of the game info or the locations page for additional inspiration. Want to do a performance? Hang out in the Backyard? Choose whatever appeals!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The problem with trying to drive yourself deliberately mad is that sometimes it's a bit hard to distinguish reality from madness. So when he hears the voice of Childermass, Strange can't help but perk up a bit. He looks around, as if to see the man...but nothing. Just his own reflection, as unkempt as it is.

Of course, that doesn't change anything. This could be another trick, like the mirrors, whispering Childermass's voice to him the same way that it whispers his own inadequacies. Or this could be Childermass himself. But why not show himself if he was? The man deliberately tends towards skulking, but surely a familiar face outweighs that sort of proclivity.

Or not. It's not like Strange and Norrell parted on good terms after all. ]

Childermass? [ he asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice. ] Or just this bloody maze playing with my thoughts again.

[ Lightly rapping on the mirror with his knuckles as if that'll give him an answer, he continues talking. ]

That spell should have worked, you know. What sort of magic does this place have to counteract mine?

[ Because of course his spell worked. It worked before, why shouldn't it work now, obviously the spell worked! ]

[ A good question. Childermass has a few of his own that he's dwelling on, in part of why he's yet to appear. Something about Strange is off and, even though he's heard enough to make a few guesses as to why, whatever truly did happen in that black tower has been a mystery to him.

There's safety in being wary, but, at the very least, he's sure it really is Jonathan Strange. Who else would stop to complain at a bunch of mirrors when hopelessly lost? ]

The same magic that created it in the first place. [ Which isn't really an answer, but he's not about to bring up the Ringmaster just yet. Lord knows how fast this conversation would derail if he brought the word "fairy" into it. In any case, he's finally decided to step out, appearing in some previously difficult to see gap between two mirrors. As of yet, he's not so changed by the carnival that anything stands out as unusual, save for the silver color that's since replaced his usual eye color. ] It could be that they're not even connected to the King's Roads.

[ Because who wants magicians wandering in and out on a whim, right? ]

[ This conversation would derail INCREDIBLY fast the moment fairies enter into the conversation. Smart move, Childermass.

When he actually sees Childermass, Strange takes a few tentative steps closer, as if trying to make certain that he's actually real, that Childermass won't vanish into smoke and air the moment he gets closer to the man. He seems certainly real enough, the same dour man that he'd gotten used to over the years. Strange notices the silver eye color...but honestly isn't sure if that's something that's actually happened or if his madness is playing tricks on him again.

There's marginally less pineapples, though. That puts points on 'actually happening.' ]

I never fully explored the King's Roads, so it's entirely possible that there is a place not connected. [ He barely explored the King's Roads to begin with, Strange is not the authority here, no matter how much he positions himself as one. ] I honestly never thought a thing possible. But to have the magic that whoever created this place has and not connect it to the King's Roads? It's slightly ridiculous.

[ No vanishing, no tricks. It's actually him, there in all his gloom and doom and opting to lean against one of mirrors casually, arms folded. If the maze and the mischief within bothers him at all, there's no show of it. ]

There's no fixed location for the carnival. [ Something he says with a shrug. Exactly how the place gets around is a mystery to him, apart from 'it's magic'. That much is already all too obvious to them both. ] Might be difficult to stick a road to something always on the move.

[ But Strange has explored the King's Roads, which is more than Childermass has managed to do thus far. He can only make an educated guess. Not that it'll matter, depending on how the magician ended up here. ]

Speaking of which, how did you find your way here?

[ Oh and Strange can't help but get puffed up a little bit for that as Childermass asks the question. A slightly maniacal glint is in his eyes as he explains, wide grin on his face, ] I summoned it.

[ Take that, Gilbert Norrell. It doesn't occur to Strange that wait a minute, the Ringmaster might have wanted him to be here in the first place. And, now that he's talked with the Ringmaster and made his deal, he's gotten exactly what he wants: a year and a day of service, in order to gain the knowledge of how Norrell raised Lady Pole from the dead--since that damn ringmaster was apparently averse to bringing his beloved Arabella back in the first place. And really, he could easily survive a year and a day of service for this. Everything's worked out wonderfully. He summoned this (or so he thinks), they made a deal, he's going to get Arabella back, wasn't this good? ]

I attempted to summon a fairy. I thought I failed, but when I opened my bedroom door to the carnival and the Ringmaster, I know I succeeded. I agreed to serve her in order for her to grant one of my wishes. [ And oh, it's sad how proud of himself he is. ] She agreed to let me explore the place before my tenure starts.

Edited 2016-12-03 22:24 (UTC)

You've already--

[ Too little, too late, then. It would seem the fact that Strange has already met up with and made a deal with the Ringmaster is just a tad alarming to Childermass. Depending on what it is, when, could it change his own history?

So, excuse him if he suddenly straightens up and away from the mirror he'd been leaning against to take a step forward, to try and grab Strange by the shirt rather abruptly. It's more to keep him in place than rattle him, though, thankfully. ]

What have you done? What wish?

[ ?????

Strange can't help but look downright confused as Childermass straightens up, grabbing him by the shirt. Because what. Why should the idea of making a deal with what was undoubtedly a fairy rattle Childermass so much? He knew of the Raven King! English magicians made deals with fairies all the time.

So, he's obviously confused as he continues to talk. ]

Arabella, [ he says as an explanation. ] The Ringmaster said she couldn't bring her back from- [ and here, his voice hitched slightly, ] from the dead. But Norrell was able to bring Lady Pole back, seemingly with no memory of heaven or hell. I asked the Ringmaster for the knowledge of how he accomplished that. And when my contract is over, I will return home and bring Arabella home myself.

[ Strange can't help but let out a slightly sarcastic chuckle as he looks at Childermass. And now that they're so close to each other, it's all the more apparent that Strange has done much more than make the wish. After all, his unshaven face, his disheveled attire, the glint in his eye that's borderline mad...yeah, he's been attempting things at home as well. ]

We know that Norrell will never tell me how he did it. So why blame me for finding out that information myself?

[ Whatever had rattled him seems to settle as Strange explains, although he can't help but look troubled for another reason altogether. More than one reason, even, looking at his master's old student this close up, he hadn't been wrong at all that something had seemed off about the man.

If he were ever one for pity, now would be the best time to extend it, but he is not. He'll settle on feeling tired instead and let go of Strange's shirt, stepping back. ]

Of course she couldn't.

[ And here he visibly balks at going on, seeming to want to say more, but then stopping, gaze flickering elsewhere. ]

Edited (when i forget icons are a thing) 2016-12-03 23:40 (UTC)

[ Strange regards Childermass with a little frown. Because well now. That wasn't exactly what he was expecting. After all, Strange's deal made sense in his mind...and yet Childermass is looking at him as if Strange should regret what he's saying. ]

Well go on, [ Strange eventually says, looking over at Childermass. ] You seem to know more about her than I realized.

[ After all, he knew about the wish. He knew about the carnival and knew about the Ringmaster. Childermass has been here longer than Strange realized--for how long, he doesn't really know. And really, isn't 'knowing more than the rest of us realized' the John Childermass story? ]

[ It is and any other day, on any other topic, he'd have no issue explaining it. To Strange, at least, who might actually listen. ]

You must understand, [ He'll begin after a drawn out moment where he could only look around the maze, then back to Strange, searching for some way to impart what the dilemma here is without actually telling him a damn thing. ] This place does not take time into account. You're still in Venice, aren't you?

I am. [ He doesn't get it just yet, instead fixing Childermass with a confused frown. Where else would he be? Likewise...how precisely did Childermass know where he was to begin with? It wasn't exactly a secret that he was in Venice, but he wasn't entirely sure if Childermass was the sort to keep tabs on his location to begin with.

Although taking time into account...that's interesting. Strange fixes his expression into a frown for a moment as he asks, ] What do you mean by that? Does this place not follow the standards of time that our world does?

[ It's easy to file that away in his head as "magic, yo." After all, there were stories of people who thought they had been in Fairie for days when it turned out they had been there for years. But oh, how delightfully interesting and delightfully worrying this was as a whole. ]

[ Childermass is absolutely the sort to keep tabs. It's only a shame that Drawlight had been sent in his stead, or this would have-- well, no matter. What's done is done. ]

Let's leave the maze. [ He moves forward to grasp Strange by an arm this time, in hopes of turning him in the right direction and taking him, a tad bit forcibly, down the right path out of the mirror maze. Shoving magicians around, apparently a part of his job that he'll never be able to leave behind. ] And I mean that to you, you are still in Venice, up to God knows what, but to me? You've already been back to England.

[ And then gone again. ]

[ Strange isn't an idiot. Childermass has been here for a while, he knows what's up, he's not going to literally run into a mirror the way Strange did. So, he lets Childermass drag him around, though he's got enough pride to shoot him a look that's pure "what the hell, don't be so rough."

And oh hey now, that's interesting. So not only was this place possibly odd with regards to it's own interior time, but with time in their world? Strange doesn't know if it's the madness or the magic that makes him sort out the pieces in a seemingly logical manner, but he does, and he can't help but fix Childermass with a smile as he comes to entirely the wrong conclusion. ]

Well, then I must have succeeded and fulfilled my contract! After all, I am here. But I must eventually go home in order to be back in England. And since I shan't break the contract between us and I won't leave until I find out that information, I must have gained what I came here to find, filled the terms of my contract, and returned back to our world.

[ THERE IS NO PROBLEM WITH THIS WHATSOEVER, four for you Strange, you've got this figured out, give it up for your arrogance. Though he doesn't have one thing figured out, though... ]

But that doesn't explain why on Earth I'm back in England.

[ A look like that nets Strange absolutely nothing. He'll have to deal with it. ]

It's possible.

[ It's a neutral sort of reply. It is, after all, possible that learning the truth from the Ringmaster is what sets him on the warpath. So, yes, possible, but Strange's own bizarre joy at the idea does nothing to alleviate the serious look on his own face.

Anyway, a left, another right, down another long hall of mirrors... ]

And it is assumed you returned to England to pick a fight with Mr. Norrell, but I really doubt that's the truth of the matter.

[ Obediently, Strange follows, as if a child lost in a crowded area, or one who knows the very real possibility of getting lost in a labyrinth. That doesn't stop the talking, though. Not much stops the talking. ]

I doubt that's the truth of the matter either. I've picked plenty of fights with him before, why on Earth would I leave a wonderful exile in order to pick a fight?

[ Because Venice...well, wonderful's putting it a bit nicely, but there are some charms to Venice. It had been ages since he had a conversation as genuine as the ones he had with Flora. That, and the setting was wonderfully conducive to his...ah, 'experiments' with such trivial things as sanity and stability. ]

What I don't understand is why don't you know the truth of the matter? You're close to Norrell. [ not Norrell's man. Strange isn't entirely sure if Childermass is anyone's man. And surely that closeness plus Childermass's....well, Childermassness is reason enough to suspect he knows the truth. ]

Because your exile must have been lacking in a great deal of books, would be my best guess.

[ Think, Strange, what is in England a magician trying to bring his dead wife back might need? Childermass is sure he doesn't need to go as far as to tell him he went to Hurtfew directly. As to the question of why he doesn't know the full truth, it would seem he's hit a sore point.

It brings him and, consequently, Strange to a stop at a crossroads in the maze. He looks around them, at all the reflections surrounding the two, then pushes the other man in the right direction. ]

Down that way. It's the corridor to the exit. [ He'll let Strange go on ahead this time, then follow along after, and there's something oddly bitter in his tone now, even as he works to keep a matching expression off his face. ] And I do not know because I was not there.

Oh books, [ he can't help but scoff, with a little roll of his eyes. ] Norrell's books are useful, but I've found that there's plenty of magic that his books of theory and respectability cannot understand.

[ The sarcasm and disdain is apparent in the tone of his voice. After all, he didn't have Norrell's books for most of when he was in the Peninsula. Norrell's books weren't the things that helped him discover the King's Roads or led him to how he distilled madness. The books were useful, the books were obviously useful, God how he wished he had Norrell's books at certain points, but there was so much magic out there that Norrell's STUPID books couldn't help him with.

There's a brief pause while Strange looks at himself in the mirror, catches his erratic, disheveled, mad countenance, before he trots on after Childermass, following him to the exit. ]

You, not there? [ Now that's something he can't believe. ] Well, I highly doubt that. Norrell's had you in his employ as long as I've known the man.

Had would be the key word. Not anymore. [ Which is a story in itself, there, but he moves on without explaining. ] The library at Hurtfew was hardly full of respectable books, Mr. Strange. There are reasons he balked at letting you anywhere near them.

[ Still, only a guess. Books and help, most like, and not the wild fantasy of magician coming to kill magician that everyone else seemed to have had about it. Stepping outside is a relief, even if the carnival itself is causing a racket. Fresh air and open space is still better than the dead ends and mocking reflections they've left behind.

Though once outside, he doesn't really intend to stick around near the crowds of other, actual visitors. He'll nod in another direction and begin walking again, expecting Strange to keep up. ]

[ Whereas Strange, still in the past, is simultaneously trying to parse out what happened to Childermass in the future, what happened to him in the future, and why he'd seek Norrell's help in the future in the first place (as he's still 100% unaware about the Black Tower and the gentleman with thistle-down hair). It's piecing together a puzzle, but you find yourself missing a few pieces—a maddening sensation, but one that Strange (to his ever growing annoyance) was starting to find familiar.

But oh look, a breeze. Venice is certainly a lovely city but all that water means all that humidity, and it's rather nice to be in a different climate. Strange pause for a moment, taking a breath of the air, relishing the lack of taunts from the mirrors...before realizing that wait, Childermass is going in a different direction, best to follow him. It only takes him a few seconds, but he manages to catch up. ]

I have a feeling the reasons you're thinking of are different from mine. [ which boil down to something along the lines of "Gilbert Norrell is a buttface who's scared of properly exploring English magic and is a jerk about my book." And wait. The book. Strange remembers his last conversation with Childermass. Before he left, before he heard of Norrell trying to halt the publication of his book. There will always be two magicians in England.

And oh, that is like being dunked in cold water. His pace slows and his demeanor calms as he asks, ]

Your leaving Norrell around the time of our supposed fight seems purposefully convenient. Tell me—whatever it is, whatever we are doing, do you believe that one of us shall not survive? [ a small pause, before ] Does Norrell?

Edited 2016-12-04 05:43 (UTC)

[ Almost as frustrating as trying to decide what one can and cannot say.

His own stride slows to a stop once he notices how Strange lags behind upon asking that, only offering a curious look back over his shoulder at him. It's funny, that the potential death of Gilbert Norrell would be the one thought that takes the wind out of a madman's sails. ]

Would you care?

[ If Norrell didn't? There's no real feeling put into the question, no heat, no chilliness, to reveal anything about what Childermass might think the correct answer to that is. ]

[ There's a pause while Strange mulls this over. Emotions suck. Navigating emotions suck. ]

Gilbert Norrell is a pompous overstuffed toadie, more convinced with proper decorum and respectability than exploring the true potential of English magic. However...

[ And that however lingers there for a bit. There's so much weight behind the however. Strange and Norrell have parted their ways. That doesn't change the fact that a part of him still respects the man, that a part of him wishes things could have gone differently. ]

However, I believe I would be saddened to hear of the man's death. We were friends, once. Petty fights cannot erase that.

[ That must have been an acceptable answer, because Childermass considers it quietly, then nods and moves on again. ]

Then you'll be glad to hear you both survive. [ In some fashion, just not one he has much explanation for. ] My departure had more to do with a disagreement than anything else. When it came down to having to choose between myself or that damn Lascelles, I am sad to say he made the wrong choice.

[ Yet again. ]

[ Strange's disgruntled little 'hmmph' as Childermass mentions Lascelles tells the other man exactly what he needs to know: he still reeeeeeally doesn't like Lascelles. The man was a poisonous influence, more than either of them initially gave him credit for. ]

That seems to be a running problem with that man's life. A wrong choice in friends, a wrong choice in apprentices... [ Strange trails off, with a little shrug. He's no idiot, he knows that Norrell would have PROBABLY LIKED IT A LOT MORE if he didn't have to deal with someone as impulsive and reckless as Strange himself is. (Also Strange, you deliberately drove yourself mad, you cannot talk about choices.) ]

I'm glad we're both still around, though. Say what you will about Norrell, but English society and English magic would be even duller if the man were to die.

[ la la la NOT GONNA MENTION HIMSELF AND HIS CURRENT STATE OF THINGS EITHER ]

[ The regret of not taking Lascelles as a threat from the very start is one Childermass knows all too well. ]

Wrong choice in friends I'll grant you, but I never found much fault in his apprentices. [ And as there's only one of those, well, that's as close as a compliment as Strange is bound to get from him. ] Even if they have been troublesome from time to time.

[ Okay, maybe only half a compliment. ]

[ Strange can't help but laugh at that, eyes widening in a way that's more than a little but unnerving. ]

Troublesome! Well, I suppose I have been. Upsetting his delicate order of things, barging into his preconceived notions of English magic with my beliefs and my...eccentricities.

fuck you mirrors!

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