Step Right Up! [Open]

[applesaucemod]

It might be winter in the waking world, but tonight, the dreamers will find themselves wrapped in the warmth of a blazing August afternoon. Here, it is summer - and what's more, the Carnival has come to town!

Whatever the dreamer's tastes, there should be something to amuse them. There are rides that tend towards the rickety, wooden end of the spectrum, a petting zoo occupied - for the most part - by tolerant farm animals, food stalls selling every kind of carnival faire you'd imagine, and an arcade full of rigged games. Inquisitive dreamers might find that some of the wares tend towards the esoteric, and some of the stalls might seem a little out of place, but it's all the sort of thing that might show up in a carnival somewhere. Look, no one's perfect.

Overall, though, it's a modest set-up. The once brightly colored canvas has been faded by the sun, and the paint is peeling in a few places. But the gentle wear lends everything an air of comfort (as opposed to an air of a lawsuit waiting to happen). Whether you're riding the ferris wheel, petting a goat, or trying to win a stuffed animal the size of a small child, the only harm the dreamers can expect is the kind they might dole out themselves.



[OOC: oh, you all know the drill by now.]

Comments

[boneshaker]

"That's too bad," says Castor mildly. "Magic is pretty neat."

All right, that's just about enough one-sided pleasantry. His chill only extends so far. He looks up at the guy, folds his arms, looking probably comical, sitting all stern in his pile of garbage. "So who are you?" he says. "Are you just here to interrogate me, or what?"

Interrogate is a strong word, chosen because maybe it'll get a strong reaction. Castor can't read this guy, and he doesn't know how to deal with people he can't read.

[grimaud]

Lucien raises his eyebrows at that. He's not that easy to get a rise out of. Or, well, he can be, depending on where you poke. But most people who do that end up dead, unless there's a particularly compelling reason to keep them alive.

"Lucien Grimaud," he answers finally. "Why, do you have something you should be interrogated about?" he asks, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

[boneshaker]

WELL that's not altogether comforting. Castor blinks and says, "I, uh, don't think so?"

He'd kind of been assuming the getup was for the carnival, but... now he can see plainly it's very definitely not. Lucien has a look Castor recognizes, should have recognized at the outset, someone who knows life in the streets, and someone who does not fuck around. The kind of person Castor's worked for often enough. Never particularly savory company.

"Is that a thing you're practiced at?" he says, feigning nonchalance, and nods at the hand on the hilt. "You've got the sword and the attitude for it."

[grimaud]

"Yes," he answers simply. Though usually he finds that the dagger he's got strapped behind his back under his cloak is much more efficient for those kind of things than a sword is. The sword is for fighting, as is generally the pistol. The dagger is for threatening and executing.

Still, that's not the answer of a man with a particularly guilty conscience, which means there's no particular reason for pursuing the matter. Instead he simply remains silent after answering the question.

[boneshaker]

Cool. This is going great. Castor smiles blandly at him, waiting for elaboration he knows isn't coming, besides which he's not sure he particularly wants.

"Bet you're a ton of fun to drink with," he says. He resumes shuffling through trash, though it's with less lightheartedness now, now he's guarded, edged. He doesn't like this man's stare.