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

[cueball]

[She should be able to. Scratch certainly can't hide himself from the reflections, but he isn't even bothering to look at the mirrors. And he isn't surprised in the least when she talks.]

I was wondering when you would notice. I mean no harm.

[spitefulvitae]

[He may notice that her reflection in the mirrors is blurred and fuzzy. For a few moments. She closes her eyes and seems to be concentrating on something, and then it solidifies.]

Really now.

[Her eyes open and she turns around. A sharp one, this one... She gives him a critical look from head to toe.]

Who are you?

[cueball]

[He smiles at her enthusiasm and decides not to beat around the bush. Or lie. Not that he ever lied.]

Doc Scratch, is what you can call me. Just another person trapped in this twisted Mayfield, like you. You looked like you were on a mission and I was curious, so I followed you in here.

[He says, hands still in his coat pockets. Though the white suit he wore was now slightly worn and had light patches of dusty dirt, after having to wear it for a few days.]

[spitefulvitae]

[Honesty is good. Or at least a very solidly delivered cover story. She can respect both.]

I'm Natalie Waters. I can't say that I'm on a mission, but I'm tired of strolling through the carnage and I'm tired of eating rats. This is something I haven't tried yet.

Care to come with me the rest of the way? Horrible things are better when you've got some company.

[cueball]

[Ah yes, she's a keeper alright. He's interested even more now at what may come of this. Though if there's any sign of danger, he's not going to stick around. Good thing he can teleport. As for her...]

I'd be glad to accompany such a bold lady. No harm in having a partner.

[spitefulvitae]

Bold?

[That actually gets her to smile. It's not very warm or very charming, but it's a smile just the same.]

I suppose. Through the mirror maze we go, then.

[She turns about and takes a step, but looks behind her to see that he's following. And that he's not trying to shoot her or something foolish like that.]

[cueball]

[He does follow and only chuckles lightly when he sees her head turn back. Bold, but cautious. Not bad. He follows her lead though, turning his own head to make sure nothing is behind them.]

I suppose you didn't only just come today.

[spitefulvitae]

No. I've been stuck here for a few days. You look like you've been around for a bit, yourself.

[She makes her way through the mirrors slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. Was this the same path she took before, coming in? The same, but reversed?]

...no.... no. Completely different, no...

[She pauses to smudge one of the mirrors with that charred bit of wood, then continues on.]

[cueball]

I got out three days ago. Frankly I can't say I'm fond of this funhouse the first time I went through it.

[He begins to notice the strangeness of their path as well and watches as she smudges the mirror. A good indicator.]

There may be nothing in here at all, if we can even get past the hall of mirrors. But I don't think travelling in pitch black is going to do any good either.

[Scratch holds out his left hand as he follows her and a small green flame bursts to life in his palm, illuminating the area. At least now they won't be walking in total darkness.]

[spitefulvitae]

I didn't have much fun, either. But at least we've got a general idea of what to expect, now.

[She continues with her careful steps and her occasional smudges.]

Better to know that there's nothing than wonder if... iih!

[Fire. Fire. She jolts abruptly, eyes going wide, taking a quick step away from Scratch. But she's more than just a bag of nerves and instincts and reactions. Once she gets a good look at it and sees that it's safe in his hand, she settles. She continues onwards.]

Very nice. Do warn me next time? Thank you....

[cueball]

[He isn't phased by her reaction, but does give a coy smile.]

Don't worry, it won't start fires so long as it's concentrated. I'll be sure to give warning next time. [Though he won't apologize for scaring her and continues moving, the small flame lighting up the funhouse in a shade of lime green.] I wonder if we'll find anyone else in here. Perhaps more people trying to make it to this side of Mayfield.

[spitefulvitae]

It hardly looks like regular fire. So you've got it under control? [She's still not inclined to trust a "yes" as the response, though. Fire. Fire is bad. But at a distance, providing light, it's rather good...]

I'm sure we'll make for quite the welcome wagon.

[mayfield_mods]

[For a second, they may be able to catch the sight of something humanoid moving in the distance before Scratch's fire goes out abruptly.]

[cueball]

[...oh.

Well that isn't good. He frowns and moves closer to the girl. There is someone here and he doesn't trust it. His voice is small and a whisper at most.]

We need to get out. Can you see well in the dark? [He can probably light another flame, but if it goes out again then it'll be meaningless.]

[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.]