as stolen from bakerstreet 1. post with your character--name, fandom and any particular preferences go in the subject line as usual. 2. you can either roll or pick a scenario (or scenarios!) from the list or leave your comment blank. 3. reply to people! 4. Have fun and be mindful of your partner's preferences.
OPTIONS:
1. games: from classic ring toss to the shooting gallery, here's your chance to win a prize for yourself or for that special someone. Some say the games at a carnival are rigged, but maybe, just maybe, you'll get lucky!
2. food and drink: the sweet smell of funnel cake and the familiar briny aroma of popcorn draw you over to the food and drink tent. there's cotton candy, candied nuts, and cheep booze, all here for your enjoyment.
3. classic rides: the carousel, the ferris wheel. all carnivals need these classic rides for kids and adults who aren't looking for the excitement of the faster-paced rides. snuggle close to your partner and see if you can see your house from the top of the wheel.
4. something more exciting: this is for thrill-seekers. here you'll find the tilt-a-whirl, the gravitron, the screamin' swing--all the rides designed to make you lose your lunch. hope you didn't have too much cotton candy!
5. freakshow: do they really have a bearded lady in that tent? it's time to find out. buy a ticket and see the greatest oddities the world has to offer.
6. tunnel of love: or perhaps tunnel of mild boredom. the red-tinted lights and quasi-romantic music are meant to make this ride a great makeout spot, if the chemistry is there.
7. hall of mirrors: you and your partner entered, thinking it would be easy to get out again, but dead ends abound in this wacky mirror-maze, and each mirror seems to show a more and more distorted image of each of you.
8. fortune teller: whether one of the creepy machines or the even creepier women dressed up in a culturally insensitive costume, you cross someone's palms with silver and get your future told. will it be happiness forever with your partner, or will ill tidings be bound your way? optional: use to get your fortune!
9. wildcard!: i know i forgot something, probably several somethings, so here's your wildcard for whatever else you can fit into this meme.
"I was trying to protect your delicate self-image." She laughs and darts after him. She does well for the first few minutes, managing to catch sight of his wild dark hair as he turns a corner but soon she's bumping into her own reflection.
Dammit. Ah well, if she can't find him again inside the maze she'll just have to meet him outside. If she gets there first she'll make him buy the fried dough. She slows her pace to something more leisurely, taking the time to actually study her distorted reflections. She laughs at a few of them, loud enough to ring through the maze.
"God, this one makes me look shorter than Sal. Find any good ones yet, Grant?"
"Well you did a terrible job!" He calls back as he disappears.
Conversely, he fully intended to hold her to buying him the redpop soda-float-sundae he saw. When it seems like he's lost her though, he slows as well, looking the images over as they squash and shrink and stretch him. He stops and lingers particularly long at one that extends high and makes his form near three times what it is. The carnival cloths and colors reflect in the mirrors and darken the ceilings. The lights give a flicker and he frowns, as distant sound of thunder goes off overhead.
"There's one over here..." He says, before a second later, the lights go out.
"I'm your girlfriend, asshole, not your life coach!"
She roams the mirrors, snorting as her reflection stretches and shrinks, twists and distorts. This is more fun than she expected. Neon lights flicker above her, bathing her in harsh blue-green light. She pauses when the thunder rumbles, glancing in the mirror to her right. The light isn't at all flattering against her pale skin. She looks practically grey-
"Justine!" He calls out, spinning. He sees something out of the corner of his eye and turns again to try and catch it, but it's gone. He can hardly see a thing at first, moving along the walls with just his hands. He feels the cool of the mirror and is relieved to find his vision adjusting-- for a moment. His heart stops as he looks upon his hand, and more importantly, what it reflects. He sees claws. Grey skin. A band of black and purple.
"Grant?" Thunder rumbles outside, closer than before. Shit. She and Grant are stuck in a blacked out mirror maze, there's a storm coming and Terezi and Gamzee are still running around on their own. So much for an enjoyable date night.
"Stay where you are, I'll find you." Justine draws in a slow breath and closes her eyes. When they were younger and had learned Terezi would eventually lose most of her sight, Justine had taken it upon herself to help teach her younger sister how to get around when it eventually did happen. She'd spend hours after school and on weekends walking with her, both of them with their eyes closed. They focused on their other senses to get them around and nowadays Justine could "see" nearly as well with her eyes closed as she could with them open.
She stretches her arm out, fingertips touching the cool mirror glass. She can do this, no big deal. Slow, careful steps, open ears. Within three steps her face mashed against a mirror.
"Goddammit!" She opens her eyes on instinct, squinting at her reflection in the dark. Fucking blackout. Her eyes gradually adjust and when she sees her reflection she can't help but let out a short sound of panic.
Her sclera are yellow. Not the sickly jaundice yellow but an unnatural shade orange-yellow. And it wasn't just that. Her irises looked different too. More teal than regular blue-green.
He doesn't respond to her. He stares wide-eyed at the mirror. The reflection moves where he moves, echoes what he does. But it's not him. A great looming creature peers down, face shrouded in it's own shadow, but for what seems to be a skull, reflecting. He takes half a step-toward the beast.
Then he hears her curse and cry out. He looks away for just a moment, but when he does, his reflection is human again. He starts in a run, occasionally hitting a wall and seeing the creature appear again in mirrors he passes before it vanishes again, over and over.
"Justine! JUSTINE!"
And then he sees her shape in the dark. Or something like it.
Her heart is hammering in her chest. She has to be seeing things. That or it's a trick of the light. Dark. Whatever.
She stares at her reflection for a few seconds, hesitantly reaching out to touch her face in the mirror. She's so transfixed on her eyes it takes her a second to realize her reflection is wearing gloves. Not the sleeves of her red hoodie covering her fingers, but actual elbow-length, bright red gloves. She looks at her face again. The face looking back isn't hers. Grey skin, some kind of high collar- are those horns?
She opens her mouth to shout again. Then she sees her reflection's teeth.
"Grant!"
She can't look anymore. She bolts away from the mirror. She hears him calling her name from the opposite direction but all she can think about right now is getting out.
He bolts after her. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the dark reflection of hers linger just a second longer. Not long enough to make it out. His heart pounds.
Thunder cracks loud, a roar but the monster isn't there. Maybe it's gone.
He hand snaps out for her shoulder, to stop her and pull her close, trying to gather her to him.
I may have made this icon just for this thread, whups
She can't stop. She doesn't want to stop. Every nerve in her is screaming that if she stops something will happen, something horrible. She just wants to get out.
She feels a hand on her shoulder. Her throat suddenly feels tight, like the hand was around her neck instead of just on her shoulder.
Or a noose. As out of nowhere as the thought is, it sends a new burst of fear and adrenaline through her. She wretches away from him, a terrified noise escaping her throat as she makes another run for it.
He tries to keep her close, but she jerks away, and there's a hurt there. A small bit of anger. And fear.
Fear.
Everything in him goes cold and his head whips to the mirrors at their side. It's them. It's them.
The massive creature, his reach far longer than his own, those sharp claws wet with fresh blood, jerks the other back, a horned girl in the reflection, and she stumbles once. Then those claws are wrapped around her neck tight, too big to fit all so the rest dig into her shoulder flesh and she bleeds teal. He lifts her up high off her feet.
this was just supposed to be a cute carnival meme then we had to fuck it up
Justine stops dead in her tracks. The pressure on her neck is worse and spreading to her shoulder, which suddenly feels inexplicably wet. She pulls at the collar of her hoodie and her breathing comes out in ragged gasps. Her eyes dart to the mirror and her blood turns to ice.
It's the horned girl, the one she'd seen as her own reflection. She watches her struggle in the air against the monster's, teal blood staining the red of her uniform. The horned girl rakes her fingers against it's arm, claws piercing her gloves and slicing into the creature's skin. Indigo leaks from the scratches.
Justine can practically hear the girl's pained choking sounds. Or maybe that's just her.
TRAITOR. The walls whisper as he stares. Polluted motherfucking tealvein, heresy all within your blood. The beast pays no mind to it's own injuries. Grant's eyes dart from the mirror scene, to Justine frozen there to the spot, then back. It's transfixing.
It's familiar. He can almost... no. He can feel it. He tastes the want of it in the air. He feels the blood on his fingers, that bit of coolness...
He lurches forward, toward Justine and as he does, the great reflection reels the other-her closer to snarl in her face as she gasps. He throws his arms around Justine and holds tight.
AIR WHAT IS BREATHED BE FUCKING TAINTED BY SHE AND THEREFORE BREATHE SHE SHOULD NOT. How dare she. HOW FUCKING DARE SHE TRY TO MAKE FOOL OF HE.
Justine's legs finally give out once his arms are around her. Breathing is somehow easier now- it still feels like there's a giant hand around her neck but at least she can get air into her lungs. She leans all her weight against Grant, still struggling to catch her breath but unable to tear her eyes away from the mirrors.
It's the whispers that are the worst though. That voice that feels like it's making the room shake even in a whisper. And what's worse than that is what it's saying. The words hit her like a punch in the gut. Like they're directed at her and she feels like she's done something to deserve them.
The girl bleeding teal opens her mouth to try to speak but all that comes out is a hoarse wheeze.
He grips her to keep her from dropping. The blood that isn't really there feels like ice, but there's something else, that feels like it's burning out his insides, a disconnected anger, hurt. He doesn't know what the horned girl did. He doesn't want to know.
You forsake me. FOR TWISTED THINGS WHAT AIN'T TANGIBLE. For the dead.
The reflection's expression twists. He raises another hand and reaches to tug out a silvery chain at her neck. It breaks apart and the creatures eyes narrow.
LET HER MOTHERFUCKING JOIN HIM THEN!
He just moves. The rage stops being something disconnected, and he thinks, why the fuck should it be that one's choice. Why should anyone else get to have her.
Even the other him.
He slams his fist into the glass. A hundred little blades dig deep and tear into his skin, and it hurts like hell. He can feel it shred his arm apart but it's worth it to see the image fall to bits. Everything else seems to crumble with it and Justine, Justine still there on the ground as it cracks and shatters, falls with him.
The lights come back on.
He's standing where he was before this all started. There's no thunder, no flickering in the ever beaming lights. It is god damned quiet. His knees threaten to give.
Justine's face goes ashen when she sees the necklace. She's never seen it before in her life but seeing it pulled out in the open then broken sends a stab of dread straight to the pit of her stomach.
When Grant lurches forward and drives his fist into the mirror she closes her eyes and turns away. She hears glass shattering all around her, the pressure on her neck releases but she's falling now, how is she falling-?
When she opens her eyes the light are back and she's on her feet. She jerks around, nothing but her own panicked reflection staring back at her. Everything is how it was. No beast, no horned girl bleeding teal, no broken mirror. Even the ache in her neck is gradually fading to nothing.
His arm isn't bleeding. It feels like it should be. It should be covered in so much blood. But apparently, it's not. He stares numbly at his reflection, the lack of fangs, or a skull on dark skin. His hair is still long, as he's kept for years now, since he had a choice. Maybe he should get it cut.
There's nothing but dried paint under his fingernails. Just that. Just paint.
He looks at the eyes of his reflection. That odd not-blue, not-grey darkness. Purple in just the right light. In just the right darkness.
The reflection sticks like a second skin even as he pulls away. He walks feeling like a ghost, like he could pass through the walls of glass and mirrors. He sees her and forgets his tongue, so instead he takes her hand.
Her everything feels heavy. She's sorely tempted to just lean against the mirrored wall and stay there for the rest of the night. Her own face continues to stare back at her in the mirror. Still she runs her tongue over her teeth again and again, expecting to feel a row of inhumanly sharp teeth.
When he takes her hand, her thoughts of reclining forever against the mirrors being replaced with a need to just lean against him. She gives in to it, her fingers entwined with his and her cheek against his shoulder. She raises her arm, bringing his with it, and presses her lips to his scarred knuckles.
He doesn't react like he would. Not joke, no smirk, no stupid look of pride like 'yeah, this one's mine', wanting to kiss her back. There's something in him that bristles and reels back, that's torn between 'as she ought's and the want to lash out.
He feels sick. Clearly that means he should raise a hand up to her face and bring his forehead to hers. It's not a wise move. He wonders if she thinks as much. Wonders if she realises that he could lower that hand just a little and wrap it around--
There's a part of her, still raw and on edge, that wants to jerk away from him. Something that hisses angrily in the back of her mind like a threatened reptile, something that's seeing him as a threat to be as far away from as she can. She smothers it in her head, reminding herself that whatever that was in the mirror wasn't Grant.
She leans into his hand, eyes half-closed behind her glasses and set on his face. In her mind's eye she has a clear picture of his fingertips on her face, drawing lines over her nose and across her forehead then sliding down to draw on her throat-
She swallows hard. "Grant?" Her voice sounds hoarse to her own ears.
He shakes his head. Not opening his eyes, not trusting himself to speak, he stays silent.
He doesn't hear anyone approach or pass them by. Maybe no one wants to snicker at the asshole having psych break in the middle of a house of fucking mirrors. A carnival of all places.
Finally, he croaks, "Not sure I want that redpop-float anymore."
Fuck. Fuck. "The kid. Gamzee. Gotta find Gamzee... The fuck did that little shit say he'd go...?"
She cups his face in her hands, mutters soft shushing sounds under her breath. She says nothing at first, everything implied with her touch and her shushes. You're safe. It's okay. Nothing will hurt you.
She presses her lips to the corner of his mouth, murmuring, "I'll text Peter, his brother is probably with Gamzee and 'Rezi. I'll have him bring them and then we can go home."
He shudders, and opens his eyes. The plants a kiss to her forehead. The kisses her mouth when she brings it close. Text peter. Alright. Just this time may--
"NO!" he says, suddenly. "No, it's fine. Kid was excited as shit, Rezi too. And we ain't gotten to--" have our date yet. He can't ruin it all because he's had a moment of going screw-loose.
He rubs his eyes.
"Let's just get out. Let's go see the fucking freakshow instead."
She bumps her nose against his when she kisses his lips again. Brings his hand to her lips again to kiss his palm. He's not the only one having issues after what they'd just gone through but she's always been better at hiding her issues.
"You sure? We don't have to go befriend the bearded lady if you're not feeling up to it." Another kiss on his knuckles. "I can go win you something fuzzy throwing darts at balloons."
Slowly, so slowly, he eases just enough to offer the barest of smirks back. A thank you unspoken. "What you mean I can't motherfucking be friends with the bearded lady and get something fuzzy won for me? You underestimate me."
There, that's more like her Grant. She grins, tracing her thumb along his cheekbone. "Are you sure you're up for the challenge? I hear she's very picky about her gentleman callers."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Dammit. Ah well, if she can't find him again inside the maze she'll just have to meet him outside. If she gets there first she'll make him buy the fried dough. She slows her pace to something more leisurely, taking the time to actually study her distorted reflections. She laughs at a few of them, loud enough to ring through the maze.
"God, this one makes me look shorter than Sal. Find any good ones yet, Grant?"
no subject
Conversely, he fully intended to hold her to buying him the redpop soda-float-sundae he saw. When it seems like he's lost her though, he slows as well, looking the images over as they squash and shrink and stretch him. He stops and lingers particularly long at one that extends high and makes his form near three times what it is. The carnival cloths and colors reflect in the mirrors and darken the ceilings. The lights give a flicker and he frowns, as distant sound of thunder goes off overhead.
"There's one over here..." He says, before a second later, the lights go out.
no subject
She roams the mirrors, snorting as her reflection stretches and shrinks, twists and distorts. This is more fun than she expected. Neon lights flicker above her, bathing her in harsh blue-green light. She pauses when the thunder rumbles, glancing in the mirror to her right. The light isn't at all flattering against her pale skin. She looks practically grey-
Suddenly darkness. She curses under her breath.
"I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen."
no subject
He jerks back.
"Motherfucker..."
no subject
"Stay where you are, I'll find you." Justine draws in a slow breath and closes her eyes. When they were younger and had learned Terezi would eventually lose most of her sight, Justine had taken it upon herself to help teach her younger sister how to get around when it eventually did happen. She'd spend hours after school and on weekends walking with her, both of them with their eyes closed. They focused on their other senses to get them around and nowadays Justine could "see" nearly as well with her eyes closed as she could with them open.
She stretches her arm out, fingertips touching the cool mirror glass. She can do this, no big deal. Slow, careful steps, open ears. Within three steps her face mashed against a mirror.
"Goddammit!" She opens her eyes on instinct, squinting at her reflection in the dark. Fucking blackout. Her eyes gradually adjust and when she sees her reflection she can't help but let out a short sound of panic.
Her sclera are yellow. Not the sickly jaundice yellow but an unnatural shade orange-yellow. And it wasn't just that. Her irises looked different too. More teal than regular blue-green.
What is happening?
no subject
Then he hears her curse and cry out. He looks away for just a moment, but when he does, his reflection is human again. He starts in a run, occasionally hitting a wall and seeing the creature appear again in mirrors he passes before it vanishes again, over and over.
"Justine! JUSTINE!"
And then he sees her shape in the dark. Or something like it.
no subject
She stares at her reflection for a few seconds, hesitantly reaching out to touch her face in the mirror. She's so transfixed on her eyes it takes her a second to realize her reflection is wearing gloves. Not the sleeves of her red hoodie covering her fingers, but actual elbow-length, bright red gloves. She looks at her face again. The face looking back isn't hers. Grey skin, some kind of high collar- are those horns?
She opens her mouth to shout again. Then she sees her reflection's teeth.
"Grant!"
She can't look anymore. She bolts away from the mirror. She hears him calling her name from the opposite direction but all she can think about right now is getting out.
no subject
Thunder cracks loud, a roar but the monster isn't there. Maybe it's gone.
He hand snaps out for her shoulder, to stop her and pull her close, trying to gather her to him.
I may have made this icon just for this thread, whups
She feels a hand on her shoulder. Her throat suddenly feels tight, like the hand was around her neck instead of just on her shoulder.
Or a noose. As out of nowhere as the thought is, it sends a new burst of fear and adrenaline through her. She wretches away from him, a terrified noise escaping her throat as she makes another run for it.
ehehehe
Fear.
Everything in him goes cold and his head whips to the mirrors at their side. It's them. It's them.
The massive creature, his reach far longer than his own, those sharp claws wet with fresh blood, jerks the other back, a horned girl in the reflection, and she stumbles once. Then those claws are wrapped around her neck tight, too big to fit all so the rest dig into her shoulder flesh and she bleeds teal. He lifts her up high off her feet.
this was just supposed to be a cute carnival meme then we had to fuck it up
It's the horned girl, the one she'd seen as her own reflection. She watches her struggle in the air against the monster's, teal blood staining the red of her uniform. The horned girl rakes her fingers against it's arm, claws piercing her gloves and slicing into the creature's skin. Indigo leaks from the scratches.
Justine can practically hear the girl's pained choking sounds. Or maybe that's just her.
the actual worst it is us
It's familiar. He can almost... no. He can feel it. He tastes the want of it in the air. He feels the blood on his fingers, that bit of coolness...
He lurches forward, toward Justine and as he does, the great reflection reels the other-her closer to snarl in her face as she gasps. He throws his arms around Justine and holds tight.
AIR WHAT IS BREATHED BE FUCKING TAINTED BY SHE AND THEREFORE BREATHE SHE SHOULD NOT. How dare she. HOW FUCKING DARE SHE TRY TO MAKE FOOL OF HE.
just awful
It's the whispers that are the worst though. That voice that feels like it's making the room shake even in a whisper. And what's worse than that is what it's saying. The words hit her like a punch in the gut. Like they're directed at her and she feels like she's done something to deserve them.
The girl bleeding teal opens her mouth to try to speak but all that comes out is a hoarse wheeze.
<3
You forsake me. FOR TWISTED THINGS WHAT AIN'T TANGIBLE. For the dead.
The reflection's expression twists. He raises another hand and reaches to tug out a silvery chain at her neck. It breaks apart and the creatures eyes narrow.
LET HER MOTHERFUCKING JOIN HIM THEN!
He just moves. The rage stops being something disconnected, and he thinks, why the fuck should it be that one's choice. Why should anyone else get to have her.
Even the other him.
He slams his fist into the glass. A hundred little blades dig deep and tear into his skin, and it hurts like hell. He can feel it shred his arm apart but it's worth it to see the image fall to bits. Everything else seems to crumble with it and Justine, Justine still there on the ground as it cracks and shatters, falls with him.
The lights come back on.
He's standing where he was before this all started. There's no thunder, no flickering in the ever beaming lights. It is god damned quiet. His knees threaten to give.
uvu
When Grant lurches forward and drives his fist into the mirror she closes her eyes and turns away. She hears glass shattering all around her, the pressure on her neck releases but she's falling now, how is she falling-?
When she opens her eyes the light are back and she's on her feet. She jerks around, nothing but her own panicked reflection staring back at her. Everything is how it was. No beast, no horned girl bleeding teal, no broken mirror. Even the ache in her neck is gradually fading to nothing.
"...What the fuck just happened?"
no subject
There's nothing but dried paint under his fingernails. Just that. Just paint.
He looks at the eyes of his reflection. That odd not-blue, not-grey darkness. Purple in just the right light. In just the right darkness.
The reflection sticks like a second skin even as he pulls away. He walks feeling like a ghost, like he could pass through the walls of glass and mirrors. He sees her and forgets his tongue, so instead he takes her hand.
no subject
When he takes her hand, her thoughts of reclining forever against the mirrors being replaced with a need to just lean against him. She gives in to it, her fingers entwined with his and her cheek against his shoulder. She raises her arm, bringing his with it, and presses her lips to his scarred knuckles.
no subject
He feels sick. Clearly that means he should raise a hand up to her face and bring his forehead to hers. It's not a wise move. He wonders if she thinks as much. Wonders if she realises that he could lower that hand just a little and wrap it around--
His eyes close tight.
no subject
She leans into his hand, eyes half-closed behind her glasses and set on his face. In her mind's eye she has a clear picture of his fingertips on her face, drawing lines over her nose and across her forehead then sliding down to draw on her throat-
She swallows hard. "Grant?" Her voice sounds hoarse to her own ears.
no subject
He doesn't hear anyone approach or pass them by. Maybe no one wants to snicker at the asshole having psych break in the middle of a house of fucking mirrors. A carnival of all places.
Finally, he croaks, "Not sure I want that redpop-float anymore."
Fuck. Fuck. "The kid. Gamzee. Gotta find Gamzee... The fuck did that little shit say he'd go...?"
no subject
She presses her lips to the corner of his mouth, murmuring, "I'll text Peter, his brother is probably with Gamzee and 'Rezi. I'll have him bring them and then we can go home."
no subject
"NO!" he says, suddenly. "No, it's fine. Kid was excited as shit, Rezi too. And we ain't gotten to--" have our date yet. He can't ruin it all because he's had a moment of going screw-loose.
He rubs his eyes.
"Let's just get out. Let's go see the fucking freakshow instead."
no subject
"You sure? We don't have to go befriend the bearded lady if you're not feeling up to it." Another kiss on his knuckles. "I can go win you something fuzzy throwing darts at balloons."
no subject
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)