welcome to mayfield: day 3

[mayfield_mods]

[Those who wake up in the town on the third day will soon notice that something's definitely off. The cracks in the sky are appearing more frequently and lasting for minutes at a time, and there's a strange white fog drifting over the clouds.

For those who've just arrived, welcome to our new little town! We're sure you're glad to see your missing friends again; nothing to worry about here, they've just been too busy enjoying the upgraded carnival to go back home. Any bleeding limbs or serious wounds you may spot are obviously just a sign of how much fun they've been having.]

OOC: If your character damages or affects the carnival or town in a noticeable and normally permanent way, please comment here.

Comments

[spitefulvitae]

[She, too, moves closer to him. There was motion, and then pitch blackness... no, that wasn't good. She whispered her reply.]

A bit. A little.

[Her grip on her knife is much tighter now, and she's listening intently for any motion that's not her or Scratch. And staring intently for any faint outlines that her unnatural sight may detect.]

[mayfield_mods]

[The area begins to fill with an odorless gas, only detectable from the telltale hiss of a hazmat's gas spray.

All regains have been nullified for as long as they remain in the funhouse.]

[cueball]

[Scratch grimaces when he hears the sound and attempts to teleport. But, no dice. His connection to the sun was severed. That alone pisses him off, but he has no time to dwell on it.

He covers his face and nose with his mouth and starts to nudge on her arm to start moving back the direction they came from. They have to get out.]

[spitefulvitae]

[Natalie tenses upon hearing the sound of gas, but it's a reflexive response to noise. Just a reaction to stimulus. Gas should be no issue for...]

...hhk!

[...and now she's breathing. And hastily pulling her scarf up over her nose and mouth. And stumbling backwards, likely running into Scratch as she does, panic rapidly rising within her. Yes, yes, that arm nudge is very much self-explanatory. They have to leave, and now.]

[mayfield_mods]

[There's a flurry of movement in the shadows as something throws an ax out of the darkness, whirling towards Doc Scratch's head.]

[cueball]

[Scratch doesn't concentrate on the movements in the shadows and he doesn't have any time to react before he realizes something is thrown at him before--

Well, before the axe blade hits the side of his head at quick speed. The worse part is the axe doesn't quite hit him in the center of his head, but toward the front. The death isn't instant and so he's now against the wall of the funhouse, an axe in his head.

How awfully weak the body of a human was too. Scratch could only open his mouth to scream from the pain, completely forgetting the gas coming into the funhouse and he begins gripping at the axe handle. Taking it out may not help, but he couldn't really move with an axe in his head. He wasn't going to die here.

In the meanwhile he's also taken his hand off Natalie's arm and doesn't even seem to recognize that she is even next to him anymore. He doesn't care about the well-being of others in comparison to his own, so why should she?]

[spitefulvitae]

[It's almost impossible to tell what's going on, now. She can hear movement, hear something being tossed, hear a thunk and...]

...Scratch?

[She bumps into him, feels upwards, feels the handle of the axe, feels blood... and she panics. They've got him. He'll die. There's nothing she can do.... so she immediately disengages and starts to run blindly back in the direction that she came from, hoping that it'll mostly be the same.

Every creature for themselves in here. Sorry, Scratch.]