+ Somewhere a Grandiose Carnival Was Going on in the Sky +

[vitaelamorte]

Who: Everyone!
Where: The grounds of the Mansion
When: March 9-16
Rating: PG-13 (warn if you go higher)
Summary: The Red Queen has thrown a carnival for everyone!
The Story:


From Friday, March 9, through Friday, March 16, the gardens and grounds of the Mansion will be a sprawling a carnival. The masked, unspeaking vendors will be selling trinkets and running free game booths. Carnival rides, exhibits, and foods represent all of the various cultures of those currently residing in the Mansion.


Of particular note, and perhaps incongruously, everything is decorated with red hearts.

Use this log for any and all of your carnival needs!

Comments

[talesuntold]

"That belongs in a horror movie," Maggie declares when she sees Tim's prize in passing. She doesn't actually sound horrified; more like curious. "I can't believe you actually took your winnings. Will you take it back to your room?"

[postictal]

"Well, you never know what might be a clue here," he says with a shrug, which might be him being facetious - but knowing Wonderland, there's just as high a possibility that this might be some kind of subtle nod as to the mysteries behind how this place functions.

Truth be told, he's not quite sure what he plans to do with it just yet.

[talesuntold]

Cheerfully, she retorts, "You say clue, I say, 'might come to life and murder you in your sleep.' That's actually possible here in Wonderland."

Maggie isn't sure she'd willingly bring it back to her room, however full of horror movies the space already tends to be.

[postictal]

He almost says something along the lines of and that's a drawback how, exactly? before catching himself. You can't just say shit like that to people you don't know. Not everyone equates a good time with casual existential despair.

"Well, who knows. Maybe I can hold a bonfire," says Tim, like it's completely typical to suggest arson of a possibly-haunted stuffed bear.

[talesuntold]

Maggie doesn't agree with casual existential despair, but it doesn't surprise her. She spent enough time around Shaun before he got Georgia back, after all. She handles it as gently as she ever handles anything, and doesn't tend to argue.

"If you burn the bear, I'll come. Would it tempt fate to roast marshmallows?"

[postictal]

"I'm pretty sure if anyplace would have marshmallows, it'd be this one." What carnival doesn't have marshmallows? He wouldn't know, actually; carnivals are pretty foreign beasts to him. Still, that seems like a pretty fucking vital aspect to carnivals in general. Obscenely sugary shit that you definitely shouldn't be putting in your body on the regular.

[talesuntold]

"Or there's the closets, if not. This place seems to have pretty much everything, though. Including burgers I can eat." She smiles. The prevalence of meat here still unsettles her.

"Are you enjoying the carnival?"

[postictal]

"I guess," he says, breaking away to sweep over the unfamiliar landscape with a lift to his eyebrows, a furrow to his brow. "Never really been to one of these before. You?"

Meat she can actually eat, huh? That'd figure, given what he knows about George's world; the paranoia around meat must be off the charts.

[talesuntold]

Maggie holds out her hand and wobbles it from side to side in a 'sort of' gesture. "Lots more security measures, lots fewer people. Blood tests on a regular basis, especially getting off the roller coasters. Not many lines, both because there aren't enough people allowed in at once and because no one likes standing too close to strangers." Speaking of paranoia.

"I've never been as averse to large groups of people as most of my generation, though. Some of them would hyperventilate at this. I like people."

[postictal]

"I guess not many people in a zombie generation would be adrenaline junkies." Well, there's Irwins, sure, but he's pretty sure that comes with plenty of restrictions. Shaun isn't mindlessly, recklessly dumb - and when he is, it's usually with a purpose.

But then, what would he know, really?

[talesuntold]

"I am, but only when it comes to driving. Shaun says that he may be reckless, but I'm suicidal." Said as cheerfully as anything else in this conversation. Maggie shrugs. "Wonderland is lacking in roads and vehicles. Bumper cars are woefully inadequate, but I'll stop there later."

[postictal]

Suicidal, huh?

That draws his gaze back to her, albeit briefly. It's said conversationally enough for him to not want to call attention to it, but all the same, he pauses.

"Shepard has a tank," he offers, after a moment. "She might give you a ride, if you're interested."

[talesuntold]

She's never hit that point, whatever Shaun says. Driving is the one bit of true recklessness she allows herself. Let the car spin out to see what will happen, go hydroplaning every time it rains. Other than that, she's safe, and careful, and responsible. Her parents would be wrecked if anything happened to her, as the microchip under her collarbone transmitting her vital signals can testify, and she has people and dogs who depend on her.

Maggie is supposed to be the one left standing at the end. That was the plan. It's worked, so far. But she hates losing people, and she goes out of her way to make absolutely sure she's never standing there alone.

"A tank? No one's offered me a ride in one of those before."

[postictal]

But she's in Wonderland. And like it or no, that means adapting to loss as a state of being. People will arrive and, inevitably, they'll disappear again. Even if, for once, it isn't through Tim's own hand, that doesn't make it easier.

"Apparently she's had it for...I dunno, years now? Almost as long as she's been here. Not sure when it's ever come in handy, but it's sure out there." It sure does exist. How 'bout that.

[talesuntold]

She's lost a number of people she loves in the past year or so, two of whom she was in love with. Maggie is well acquainted with loss by now. That doesn't mean she's numb to it, and she hates being left alone. She's working on latching onto people here, particularly now that she's back for a second time.

"I'll find her and ask. In the meantime, seeing as carnivals are a whole new world, any particular aspect you're interested in?" None of the carnival is as exciting as the prospect of driving a tank, but she's sure they can come up with something.

[postictal]

"...finding answers?" he ventures at last, weakly, in full understanding of the fact that this is the most boring and least fun answer possible. The carnival itself doesn't really interest him, per se; it's more the potential of what he could find here, and what it has to do with the Queens.

The Queen of Hearts is yet to make an appearance, after all.

[talesuntold]

That gets him a wry smile. "I'm always surrounded by Newsies. Alright. Do you stop by the donation boxes in your pursuit of truth, or are those to be avoided?"

[postictal]

"Not really that eager to lose more memories," he says, wry, before her words catch up to him. She's joking, right? Like, she's gotta be joking?

"I...I mean, I don't think I really count. As a Newsie. Like, I'm not really part of the staff, just kind of...George puts up with me."

[talesuntold]

"My vocabulary is extensive enough that I feel comfortable working around whatever word I may lose. I'm curious whether I'd lose it in multiple languages. ...Though it would be inconvenient to lose, oh, I don't know, a pronoun?" She's not kidding, in fact. This is one of the areas where Maggie is willing to take cues from Georgia, so she's actually already done it.

Maggie fixes him with a look. "Georgia Mason has never struck me as the most tolerant person in the world, in either of her lives. If she spends time around you, she has some measure of respect for you. And looking for answers is a very Newsie priority."

[postictal]

He’s not smart enough to afford that kind of loss. He isn’t. He’s not a linguist, he doesn’t know a lot of synonyms for things, and at least when he does lose memories, he can recognize their absence. It’s not ideal, but when it comes down to it, he prefers that. Knowing that something’s missing.

He shifts on the spot, trying for a shrug.

“I’m more like, Jay’s handler,” he says, and he only partially means it for a joke.

[talesuntold]

"Keeping members of the team in one piece is a valuable service," Maggie tells him, grinning. "It earns you a place at staff meetings."

She pauses, then adds. "And actually, I've already made a donation. Would you like to see what I got in return? All the information, none of the memory loss. I'm not certain what word I'm missing, but I haven't yet stumbled in English and I think my Spanish is fine."

[postictal]

“Sure,” says Tim, relieved to get the conversation moving away from himself. Answers. Mysteries. Memory loss. All subjects that are, regrettably, much more his speed. “I didn’t think people would...get anything, really. I mean, isn’t that the point of making it a donation?”

[talesuntold]

"I wonder if Mirrors ever receive trading cards about us?" Maggie muses, passing Tim hers. "I got these, a shower of confetti, and thirty seconds of annoying music."

[postictal]

He turns the cards over in his hands, studying them with his brow furrowed thoughtfully. They looked like trading cards, sure, but there’s gotta be more to them than that.

“Wonder who printed up those little fun facts,” he mutters. He doesn’t think he knows either associated Real, but they’re bound to be interested, aren’t they?