We've got tickets! Lots of tickets! Don't be shy! (May 8-9)

[traveling_folk]

[[OOC: So here's how it goes: Every couple of days, there's going to be a new party thread for Carnival happenings. Pretend I posted this much, much earlier, but there you go

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[chaosmelisande]

In one corner of the carnival, near the fun house and its mirrors, there's an old wooden puppet stage, gilded in faded gold paint, with a sign hanging above the stage that says "All praise the lord of misrule!" Rough-hewn wooden benches lined up in front, and the puppets on the stage are old-fashioned wooden marionettes.

The show is sort of like a Punch and Judy show, but more violent, with deaths and dismemberment, raunchy sex and more than a little creepy sense that the puppets might be more than the puppets. It's tame, by the standards of what the show will be like by the end of the carnival's run in Chicago, but it's still not something most people would want their kids seeing.

Which is too bad - the puppet mistress loves children.

After the show, the girl with the purple hair can be found leaning against the stage, strings wound around many of her fingers, and a little girl puppet in her hands. The puppet is pretty and normal, except for the red-painted gaping hole where its heart should be. All the same, Melisande's smiling sweetly. Her show (and her puppet) is dark and violent, but she seems friendly enough.

((OOC: Please read Melisande's profile before tagging, and ping me via email or on fallingApril on AIM. She's a powerful, creepy bitch who can and will seriously fuck your characters up if given the chance.))

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar is roaming the fairgrounds, enjoying tidbits cast off by the visitors and generally being intrigued and perplexed by the shows. This one in particular gives him pause--something about it seems wrong. Something about the puppets seems exceedingly just... well. Wrong.

He sits in front of Melisande, head tilted to one side. "You," he says. "You are exceedingly strange."

[chaosmelisande]

"Oooo, it talks!" Melisande grins widely, and the grin is more predatory than friendly. She looks down at the puppet in her hands. "Say hello, Darla, it's a talking kitty-cat. Isn't that lovely?"

The puppet in her hands lifts its head a bit and waves solemnly. The funny thing is that Melisande's hands hardly moved. Odd, that.

"Who are you, good furry sir?" she asks, all innocence.

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar bristles when the doll responds. "I am Ragnar Gustaffson Coeur de Lion, madame, and you will tell me what you are, and what you have done to that--"

He stares at the puppet. "Is that a child?"

His voice is deeper than it should be, deeper than even twenty pounds of fluff could properly contain.

[chaosmelisande]

"It's a puppet, monsieur," Melisande says with a laugh, and makes it dance a little jig in the air. "I make puppets, chat drôle. It is only wood and paint."

She tosses the puppet behind the stage, with the air of a child who has lost interest in her toy, and curtseys deeply. "I am Melisande, the puppet mistress."

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar is still bristling, his coat ruffling and settling like a bird's feathers. "I do not believe you."

He doesn't like this, and he really does not like her. "What are you? More than a puppeteer. What are you?"

[chaosmelisande]

"A devotee. A humble tool. An avatar, if you will." She twirls, laughing. "You know, Monsieur Chat, you can see it. Most people can't."

She begins to absently unwind a string from one of her fingers as she speaks. "I make puppets, monsieur, I told you that. You never asked what I made them from."

[prince_stupid]

"Cats see many things that the ordinary do not."

Ragnar steps back, back again, trying to put a bit of distance between Melisande and himself before he runs. "Madame. I do not fancy becoming a plaything."

Too bad, Rags. It's far too late for that.

[chaosmelisande]

Melisande pouts a bit, still playing with the string. "You wouldn't leave me, would you, Monsieur Chat? Not until we've had a chance to play?"

Her shadow seems to have a life of its own, a tall man, his head thrown back laughing, an coyote howling with the joy of the hunt. "Look, monsieur, there is something on your tail!"

There is nothing to be seen, but Ragnar will see a little laughing man, taunting him, jumping and dancing on the tip of his tail. He should catch the little man and get him off his tail, shouldn't he?

[prince_stupid]

Ragnar rumbles and turns in a circle, then another, and before he even knows what he's doing, he's running in a tight circle trying to catch the thing on his tail. Ragnar staggers and pants, stopping for a moment, trying to keep his tail out of sight.

"Stop this. I demand you stop this at once."

[chaosmelisande]

Melisande's too busy giggling to respond at first, and shakes her head. "Oh, but you're such fun, Monsieur Chat. Those who see too much get to play more with me. You see far too much, mon petit."

He likes her, though, doesn't he? He wants to rub against her ankles and purr like a freight train when she scoops him up and holds him to her chest. Doesn't he?

[prince_stupid]

He does. He almost forgets to protest.

"I should... I cannot..." But no, there he is, rubbing around her ankles, butting his head against her legs, meowing at her and flopping over on her feet, the whole time thundering away with a purr that makes the immediate vicinity vibrate. He knows she's wrong. The puppets are wrong. Everything about this is wrong. He just really, really, doesn't care.

[chaosmelisande]

"There, that's better!" She smiles happily (though it's a happy smile that makes one nervous, like a mass murdering psychopath being told that they can do whatever they want for their birthday, with no chance of arrest) and scoops him up, holding him to her chest and scratching delicately behind his ears.

"You can be my little helping hand. Will you do that for me, mon petit?

[prince_stupid]

He thrusts his head against her fingertips, still purring away, half-manic already with unwarranted affection. He meows, blinks, surprised at himself, and manages a raspy, "Indeed."

[chaosmelisande]

The slow smirk that blossoms is... not a good sign.

A talking cat, large, too insightful for his own good, and she senses something more to him - something dangerous. He will do well to help keep all eyes off the carnival, as well as provide her with some fun.

"You," she says, pressing a finger to the tip of his nose, "are going to rain chaos down on this silly city for me." There's a palpable shift of energy, a spark behind his eyes and a matching spark in hers. He is still himself, but there is chaos in him now, her own chaos, that will come back to her when she leaves, but until then, it will wrap around his mind, driving him to madness, driving him to cause chaos, terror, mischief.

"You will make me proud, Monsieur Chat," she purrs.

[thedoctorbot]

There's a tiny robot watching the puppet show with some interest. There's something very wrong here, something very wrong indeed.

For one thing... He's brilliant. And having his primary mode of input being a sonic scanner means that, among other things, he's very sensitive to motion and vibrations. That woman's fingers weren't moving nearly as much as they should have been, not to explain the motions of the puppets.

Right now, he's hovering a few feet above the ground, displaying the words: WONDERS OF SCIENCE! MAGNETIC LEVITATION! ALL PART OF THE SHOW!

It's enough to fool Carnival-goers, at least. As for the staff... He's hoping most of them won't bother asking. Really, it's been too long since he went out, and the fact that supposed WONDERS OF SCIENCE were advertised means that, for once, he's got a bit of cover.

And now, there's something odd and a bit wrong going on, which leaves him in the perfect position to investigate.