Sweet dreams are made of this

[carnagecarnival]

Who| Everyone and anyone! May be with or without the Initiate
What| IT'S VOODOO TIME. COME GET YOUR FREE DOSINGS OF FEAR & NIGHTMARES!!!
Where| Specifically the culture exhibits, but really anywhere
When| Starting from early-mid week 1 and carrying on with increasing severity from there (in ten minute bursts)
WARNINGS| to be announced!! / self harm?

The masks pique his interest. Like the paints, but made to something even more exterior. But somehow they were less and more all the same. Something that would work well for war. With no one around, at least that he can see, he pries one off the wall. It comes down easy, like it was meant for him to have. He turns it over idly for a moment or two, examining the designs on the front, how it was crafted, then lifts it up to put it on and peer through it, a grin on his face.

The holy fear rushes in. It's bursts like a bomb going off in him and it immediately rushes out, spreading all around him across the arena. His eyes flash like bright strobes between pink and purple. He can feel it. He laughs out loud in surprise. He can motherfucking feel it. He can feel everyone, where they are, he can feel every layer of fear, the textures of it all, the mother. Fucking. LIFE. He can almost feel the holy two again in his mind, just so very close. He laughs again, louder this time, and brings the voodoo to wrap and curl around him like an affectionate but terrible beast and he gives a joyous purr with it. Then, he lets it free.

He doesn't even give pause the whole ten minutes. Until the mask latches in. Ten paltry ass minutes. And then suddenly it's gone. It evicts more of a cry than the hooks do, digging into his skin. He starts and snarls, immediately reaching up to tear the mask off his face and throw it from him. Indigo pours out from the wounds over his paint. He breathes heavily, staring at it. Then turns his head to another. These masks would have his face ruined by the end of this if his suspicions are correct.

But he knows, as he reaches out to the next mask with his scarred up palms, sometimes wounds were more than worth it.
 

[OOC: Below is your chance to thread out one of three options! For the first, Option 1, think of it like the nightmare part of Enjolras Crowning. Whether you got in that or not, this is your chance to have some fun! What paranoias or fears might your characters feel or hallucinate if they are awake? What nightmares might they navigate in their dreams? Perhaps they get a little trigger happy? It's all tailored to what your character fears most and available for you to thread out amongst yourselves+with other characters! The major bursts of nightmares and/or fear last for ten minutes (as long as he has the mask on) and so long as they are not too close in Initiate's range (or are particularly susceptible to psychic attack) these things shouldn't be too severe, but the effects can often still linger on... (and obviously, everyone can opt out, just assuming the Initiate is not in range at the time of these attacks.)

Option 2 is similar to the above, but in this case, the Initiate would be attacking your character specifically and this tends to make the power lay on more intensely. This is the option for folks who want their character driven to some intense nightmare jitters, the most vivid of hallucination to, at it's worst, a drive to madness. Or perhaps you character is going to be Initiate's mind-control pawn for the next ten minutes (PM me for more details) for something or other. Maybe both! Of course, your character should be someone he is not close with in this case unless discussed prior.

Option 3 as stated in the player post, of those he considers trustworthy (on the scale of not back-stabbing and selling him out, AND not being vocal about capitol distaste while definitely having it) and able, he will seek them out to try and share information with them through use of his power. It speaks directly through and using fear so it will definitely leave your character feeling distinct discomfort (fear, nausea, dizziness, etc.) regardless of whether they think themselves fearless or not. But it will be a way only they can hear the message, capitol will know nothing of it. If your character is not particularly close with the Initiate, he will begin on something like option 2 or 1 until he picks out the right fear for capitol, and determines they are worthy of the info-- but only with an inserted fear of speaking the information out loud (for safety measures) and possibly even an erasure of the memory of where it came from (PM me on this). If Initiate does not like said character, i'm afraid they're out of luck.

Please specify when you tag in which of these options you wish to chose!!! If the first option is chosen, the Initiate himself will not be tagged into the thread. For more details/a place to message me, go here. HAVE FUN!!! AND SWEET DREAMS!!!]

Comments

[youbarium]

That sounds like a lot of Night Vale talk to Carlos, so Carlos does what he usually does when people start talking macabre philosophy: he changes the subject.

"What did you mean, make it worthwhile?"

This creature, from his talk, was likely the orchestrator of the illusions, and Carlos is on his guard.

[carnagecarnival]

The Initiate chuckles. He holds his empty hand out to him.

"WHY MOTHERFUCKER, I MEAN THIS," He says, and abruptly the fear returns. His eyes light up again, shining bright. When he speaks again, he does so into Carlos' head. Every little fear makes to speak and all them words sounding like all those little fears. And himself of course. The words seem to echo in layer.

'WE SHARE COMMON ENEMY, DON'T YOU KNOW? WE GOT ALL LIKE TO HAVING FAMILIARS UP BETWEEN OUR MOTHERFUCKING SELVES. YOU KNOW WHAT ALL I'M TALKING ABOUT, DON'T YOU?'

He pulls up ghostly image, not of any beasts or shadows, but of the helicopters. the fears of things capitol could make to do; the people the could be destroyed by them. a source-less voice echoes comment of thought crimes and fades quick.

GOT MY SEEK ON SPECIFIC FOR THE WICKED SHIT. BUT LET ME TELL AT YOU, YOU GOT AT TO MAKE A MOTHERFUCKING DEAL WITH ME FIRST, MOTHERFUCKER. A BEARING AND SIGNING OF SOULS IF ALL YOU WOULD.' He laughs. He asks in sing-song, 'CAN YOU KEEP A MOTHER FUCKING SECRET?'

He swings his club. Spinning it up and catching it. He pours a fear there of what he might do, using it. He wants to make that reall motherfucking clear.

'I AIN'T TALKING NO PALTRY MARKET HOOFFBEASTSHIT. I WANT ALL TO KNOW IF YOU CAN ZIP YOUR LIP ALL LONG ENOUGH SO AS NOT TO RUIN EVER FUCKING THING. YOU NEED AT TO KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN AND TRAP SHUT AT ALL COSTS. EVEN UNDER GODDAMN TORTURES YOU ALL MUST. YOU KEN?'

[youbarium]

Carlos's arms fly up to cover his head, his ears. He tucks into a crouch, falling back against the wall again, letting it take his weight. The words echo in his head, and though Carlos is terrified, he understands.

The Capitol is a terrible place. In Night Vale, no one bothered to hide the municipal corruption: everyone understood that the government was what it was, and there were more immediately deadly things to be afraid of. But here -- here, it was like biting into a cupcake and finding spiders. Deceptive. Deadly. Disappointing. The spiders had no right to be there.

But Carlos can hide that he knows about the spiders. They're under surveillance. Carlos knows what it's like to be under surveillance. He won't talk. He doesn't know that he can hold up under torture, though. Carlos has never before been tortured. He wouldn't want to talk, and he would certainly try, but it seemed really easy to say 'I could keep a secret even if I were being tortured' but hard to actually do it. There is uncertainty in his mind.

[carnagecarnival]

The Initiate doesn't like that. He doesn't like the concept behind any of this at all but if he is to do it, he wants sureness, security. He wants results.

'I CAN MAKE A MOTHERFUCKER FORGET. UNDER PAINS AS SUCH I CAN KEEP ALL RIGHT THE FUCK OUT OF REACH.'

It would be difficult, isolating the fear block to a single situation. And possibly torturous for a moment, with Carlos here, being gripped and warped with such fear. But if he could manage it might work. Maybe. That was iffy. But no skin off his motherfucking neck (unless of course he failed and the fucker blabbed).

Of course, if the motherfucker refused, he'd have to wipe out the whole of this all anyone. Unfortunate.

'SHALL HE?'

[youbarium]

Carlos uncurls, just enough to look the Initiate in the eyes. Even through the fear, knowledge matters to Carlos, and the idea of voluntarily forgetting something he knows is reprehensible to him.

He does not want to forget any of this.

But if he's understanding the Initiate right, the Initiate will leave knowledge of the rebellion against the Capitol, leave the knowledge there -- just obscure the source.

Carlos knows himself well enough to know that he will be suspicious of sourceless knowledge. However, even that is better than forgetting completely, and Carlos is more accustomed than a normal human should be to the idea of modifying memories, of re-education, of someone reaching into and changing things in someone else's head. It was done municipally in Night Vale. Carlos totally understands that the Initiate doesn't want to risk his neck.

If forgetting the Initiate is the price of retaining his knowledge about the Capitol resistance, then Carlos is willing to pay it. Future Carlos would just have to confirm the information himself.

[carnagecarnival]

Carlos doesn't speak it. He doesn't say a word. But his face is resigned and some far off forgotten part of him understands without the need for words.


'THERE IS REBELLION. THERE ARE THOSE WHO SAY IT DOES NOT EXIST BUT THEY AIN'T KNOW FOR SHIT OR THEY AIN'T GOT A TONGUE OF TRUTHS TELLING. THERE ARE LIES PERSISTING HERE AND THEY DO NOT CEASE. BUT I AM PREACHER OF TRUTHS AND UNTO YOU I SHALL TELL.'

In Carlos's mind, in his fear, he paints a new image. He paints a motherfucking opportunity.

'THE REBELLION PERSISTS. IT LIVES ON THE THIRTEENTH DITRICT WHICH TOO STANDS PRETENDED INEXISTENCE. THEY STAND AT STALEMATE WITH THE CAPITOL AND ALL WHAT IS NEEDED IS THE RIGHT MOTHERFUCKING POWER TO PUSH. BUT... THEY DO NOT RECOGNIZE KNOW WORTH THE LOT OF US. OF OUR ILK, THEY SEE NAUGHT. THEY CARE NOT. THEY WOULD SEE ALL DEAD FOR THEIR CAUSE AS EASILY AS ALL THE CAPITOL WOULD MAKE AT TO UP AND DO SO. THEY HAVE ABANDONED THEIR OWN KIND AND ON OUR PEOPLE THEY HAVE UNLEASHED BEASTS, CLAIMING IT TO BE CAPITOL WORK. THEIR IS TREACHERY WITHIN EACH SIDE AND WE MUST ALL MAKE TO BE MOTHERFUCKING MINDFUL. OF THEM WE MUST BE MINDFUL WHILST WE SHOW THEM THEY ARE WRONG.'

The voodoo cuts and carves. To speak like this into the mind leaves marks. Scars that while perhaps forgotten, will not fade completely. But as it cuts into his own mind and has down so for longer than his recollection stretches, he knows it shall not break if all done right. And he knows well how to work fear.

'WE MUST SEEK ALLY TRUE, AND WE MUST UNDONE, AND WE MOST SHOW THEM THEY CANNOT WIN WITHOUT US. AND WE MUST SO THEN WIN. WE SHALL NOT STOOP TO THAT WHICH ALL THEY UP AND DO. OUR SINS BE ADMITTED AS SUCH AND OUR GLORIES LIKEWISE. WE SHALL CULL THE LIARS. WE SHALL BRING OUT THAT WHICH IS RIGHTEOUS. AND YOU SHALL NOT UTTER A MOTHERFUCKING WORD. ABOVE ALL THINGS, WE MUST KEEP THIS ALL SECRET.'

He lets that all settle. Like the gasp for breath after a knife lifts. Then he asks, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND?'

[youbarium]

Carlos breathes fast, in and out like a metronome, as his pained and fear-ridden mind tries to process all of this.

He thinks about it like he's making one of his tapes, hoping that that will make all this easier to sort out. Museum tape one, he thinks. Local date unknown. There is an entity in this room with me, something masked, with horns, that is able to reach into my mind and create illusions. I think it draws on my fears -- that's the only explanation for the things it has shown me. Things that could only have come from Night Vale.

But it's not only capable of illusions. It is putting words directly into my mind. It says that we are under surveillance. That we will be under surveillance even after we leave the museum. The entity also says that I may be tortured if I share what I know now, which is one reason why this is a mental tape and not a physical one (the other reason being that I have no tape recorder). The world outside is still mostly a mystery to me, but I do know that they told me that there are twelve districts, and that I was chosen to represent District 10 in a fight to the death. None of these are signs of a healthy and functional government. It's all very concerning. But this entity tells me that there is a rebellion, in a thirteenth district that is unknown to the public for some reason. The government knows it exists, but they're at a standoff -- neither one has the power to destroy the other. The entity thinks that we, the people brought here from another dimension, could be that power, but it's also warning me that we can't trust District 13. It says District 13 has made something attack us -- I think some kind of animal, or maybe monsters, it's hard to tell -- and will use us just like the Capitol does.

He stops thinking his recording, gasps in a deep breath, and tries to gather himself again.

The entity...I think...I think it wants my help. It wants me to be part of the rebellion.

Yes. Yes, Carlos does understand.

I can't let anyone know about this. If the Capitol knows I know, I'll be tortured until I reveal who told me about District 13 and the rebellion. I won't say the thought isn't frightening. It is. It's very frightening. Everything is frightening right now, and this masked entity in front of me is the most frightening of all.

[carnagecarnival]

He feels that last flicker of fear like a compliment. He smiles, pleased, behind the mask. But there are more important things to worry on.

The man before him isn't making no protest further than what all is natural-- reeling and cringing away and under fear. He's meeting his eyes, and he decides, yes, this one may do.

On that last thought, he speaks through voodoo and says, 'DON'T FUCKING FRET. THAT LAST MIRACLE, I CAN ALL UP AND OFFER YOU.'

He steps forward and reaches a clawed hand out to touch Carlos's face, just at the chin, just to hold him steady. Then, the flash of color glazed over Initiate's eyes, glazes over Carlos's too. He builds and creates, pulls up fear and from it, he constructs walls. Not around the information passed, but just one thing; his own identity. It would be safer this way. This way, he, and so his people, could be safe.

There's no pain. Just a dizziness. Just a loss, a sickness, a wrong felt. But no pain. The memory is locked up tight, until the Initiate can pull it free again, and with that, the Initiate steps back and away.

He thinks, make a motherfucker proud.

And he leaves Carlos where he sits.

[youbarium]

Carlos, alone, feels like he's just woken up from a dream.

He thinks someone else was in here with him, but he can't remember who, or what they did.

But it's not the first time Carlos has had strange feelings like this, and he shakes it off like he did that afternoon when he'd called Cecil Palmer.

Then, he kicks himself for spacing out like that in the middle of a murder arena. Really, Carlos, you picked the worst time to get lost in thought -- there are people out there trying to kill you! he thinks. Carlos picks himself up and, after careful glances up and down the hallway, slips out of the bathroom and back towards the planetarium.