<![CDATA[ORIGIN - Tunnel F]]> https://origin.boreal-nights.space/ Sat, 24 Oct 2026 17:39:04 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[born to jest, forced to understand the steady stream of consciousness of living]]> https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12987 Tue, 08 Sep 2026 15:25:10 -0500 https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12987

A bulbous mound of pearl protruding from the wall, once silent, stirs. First a quiet rattling from within, muffled by layers of stone and ambiotic fluids. Then louder, more frantic, as the thing inside grows restless and begins scraping against its prison in earnest. Then, the outer wall finally gives way, spewing fluids, shards and a bundle of soggy fluff onto the floor with a mighty thud.

The fluff ball lays there for quite some time, limbs splayed around it like a starfish, face down in the dirt. It remained that way for long enough to raise questions; did it knock itself out when it hit the floor? Was it dead? All the while looking like a discarded teddy bear that had been tossed there by a child straight into the puddle.

Then it's arms moved, hands raised up towards the lump's head and it pushed its face out of the muck. It gaped vacantly at the world around it, as if no thoughts but a flatline were occuring in that tiny head. It didn't even blink as it blearily peered down each direction of the tunnel. Slowly it pulled its knees forwards until it could sit seiza, resting its hands on its fluffy thighs as it simply looked.

The creature looked and looked, until it seemed to fixate on one of the glowing labradorite crystals. With a struggle it rose to its feet, only to immediately attempt to take a step and end up face down in the soil again; its arms hadn't yet learned to stop the face from hitting the floor when it fell. This time, it rose again much quicker. Once back on two legs, it rubbed the soil on its face (only succeeding in smearing it around more), then took a very wobbly step forwards.

With all the grace of a baby giraffe on ice, this new gembound stumbled its way over to the glowing crystal until it could put two, sticky, chubby, starfished hands on the smooth sides of the stone. Where it remained, for now, fixated on the way the light shone through the thin parts of skin, where the blood disbursed the light into a reddish glow. As well as leaving streaks of slimy fluids caked in soil across the surface wherever those grubby hands touched.

So entranced by the light, the sheepy humanoid leans further forward until it could press its entire face against the crystal, feeling the cool surface on its forehead and nose tip. All the while staring wide-eyed directly onto the light. ]]>

A bulbous mound of pearl protruding from the wall, once silent, stirs. First a quiet rattling from within, muffled by layers of stone and ambiotic fluids. Then louder, more frantic, as the thing inside grows restless and begins scraping against its prison in earnest. Then, the outer wall finally gives way, spewing fluids, shards and a bundle of soggy fluff onto the floor with a mighty thud.

The fluff ball lays there for quite some time, limbs splayed around it like a starfish, face down in the dirt. It remained that way for long enough to raise questions; did it knock itself out when it hit the floor? Was it dead? All the while looking like a discarded teddy bear that had been tossed there by a child straight into the puddle.

Then it's arms moved, hands raised up towards the lump's head and it pushed its face out of the muck. It gaped vacantly at the world around it, as if no thoughts but a flatline were occuring in that tiny head. It didn't even blink as it blearily peered down each direction of the tunnel. Slowly it pulled its knees forwards until it could sit seiza, resting its hands on its fluffy thighs as it simply looked.

The creature looked and looked, until it seemed to fixate on one of the glowing labradorite crystals. With a struggle it rose to its feet, only to immediately attempt to take a step and end up face down in the soil again; its arms hadn't yet learned to stop the face from hitting the floor when it fell. This time, it rose again much quicker. Once back on two legs, it rubbed the soil on its face (only succeeding in smearing it around more), then took a very wobbly step forwards.

With all the grace of a baby giraffe on ice, this new gembound stumbled its way over to the glowing crystal until it could put two, sticky, chubby, starfished hands on the smooth sides of the stone. Where it remained, for now, fixated on the way the light shone through the thin parts of skin, where the blood disbursed the light into a reddish glow. As well as leaving streaks of slimy fluids caked in soil across the surface wherever those grubby hands touched.

So entranced by the light, the sheepy humanoid leans further forward until it could press its entire face against the crystal, feeling the cool surface on its forehead and nose tip. All the while staring wide-eyed directly onto the light. ]]> <![CDATA[NIGHTMARE NIGHT]]> https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12961 Mon, 24 Aug 2026 07:06:27 -0500 https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12961 assimilation. Isn't that fun? I recall a time that happened, but it wasn't to me.

THE NIGHT is dark. One of those things that none can deny. But with all this light in the caves, in the parts where people tend to keep (to themselves), does anyone ever wonder just how dark it can be? THE WATER is knee deep. The trees climb up from its surface; they are tall and thin. Lovely night for a rowboat. A thousand maws at rest beneath the inky water's surface, but if you can't see nary a one, is it even happening?

Not a soul is glinting through that pitch blackness. Is it Cetus? You've never been before, but you know what it is to swim.

There is a thin veil between many worlds, people are wont to tell you. It's an enchanting thought. Above one, the gleaming, griming hallways of trees, glinting green in the light of nothing. Below, the thousand yard—meter?—stare of an abyss with a hundred warm mouths and a trillion warm teeth to cut through that snaking, sinking cold in your bones. Water feels wet, and the night is dark. And you are moving... forwards.

I can't explain it. Somewhere in my world, there's a ride, and it has left a lasting impression upon me. A blanket over the buildings took its place as the night sky. Starless, and featureless. Beneath it: just water. A track, leading you through a series of scenes from a movie. I'm sure you've been. Unless you haven't.

There's no track here, but you have few—if any—choices. What happens here has already happened, and it has been happening, and it will happen again. Every night. Each one as black.

I have always looked at that featureless night sky, and wondered what it was holding to the Earth?

We're not on Earth. You're not on Earth. You're just trying to keep your head above water. It's everywhere, and there's so much of it, and it's so long, it's gone on for so long—too long now. These sentences, this conjecture. It's only supposed to last two seconds, and then

Something is buzzing now. The sound reminds you of those constant ambient noises you've been drowning out. The sound of black water sloshing, the sound of birds cawing. The sound of buzzing. The sound of breath. Of breathing. Perhaps it is because the mouth and nose are so connected, but hearing has got you tasting, and tasting has got you smelling now, too. There's very little to taste. Water. Algae. Water, for the umpteenth time. If only you could taste the night, or treat it like a spice to liven up your meals. I can taste the night. I can remember those
Red

Some things tend to loop back around on themselves. Right now, I only remember the beginning and the end. Does the middle part even matter, or is it just the two of us trying to whittle down spare time? I suppose it is that traipsing crawl that composes the middle section, with every second that passes. We couldn't escape the middle if we tried. Even if it's only full of our mistakes.

But if you want your end so bad, here, you can take it: somewhere above you, one of these trees has a branch. A branch low enough that you could maybe hold it, if you promised to keep it safe. It's all junk—it's all junk! Just throw it out with the bath

There has to be a branch somewhere for you, or else you would have heard the end to that incessant calling by now. The clamor of the bells. It's so annoying, it's going to disrupt your

There was something red in that darkness, in the cloud above your head. Something reaching forward, or staying still—ready to pluck you out. You don't know what it is. Its eyes are so beautiful. There's not a body of water in these caves that could go on for this long. Can you tell I hardly dream? He was diagnosed with insomnia, but maybe it should be you. My dreams are blacker than this.

From underneath the waterfront, and carved within the birds' legs, and up above in that red moon sky, a card appears to you. The alpha and omega. If life is the space sustained between two points of total entropy, then you now see the legs which frame its face. That face you've seen before, but can't seem to recall.

THE MISSING FACE
That which watches, but evades... capture? Responsibility? Death?

You are plucked out of your own ocean. The game is set.
~~~


Kaprison wakes up.

They're already laughing. The smile pains and the croak in their throat suggest that they've been laughing for a while—maybe all night. They chortle and chuckle (and cough) their way to an upright position. A sit. And such a good one, too.

They shake. Full body shimmy, all over. Gotta get it all out. Mr. Snufflekins, is his new name now—that's the stuffed toy the crew gave Kaprison to sleep with at night. So delightful. Look at his cute button eyes! He's shaped like a lion. That's so funny! Kaprison knows they used to be one. It probably sucked, not having cute little hands to do silly stuff with. They had paws, with an extra claw for catching. Almost hands—but not quite! Catching meat, eating it raw. Kaprison dreamed about it sometimes, but they could never remember the taste. Huh!

They toss Mr. Snufflekins aside, and the dejected lion toy let out a pitiful squeak on its way to the floor. Who knows where carnies sleep—it's not my job to tell you! But this carny slept on pure quartz tonight. Last night. Is that what this stuff was? Grossular, some kind of garnet, and a calcium-aluminum mineral as it would seem. Kaprison didn't know! They were just here for the fun of it.

And the memories. Somewhere buried underneath the stone was a creature they'd encountered once, snuffling its way through their stock of hotdogs and popped corns at night. Haha! How ridiculous. They'd thought to ward it off, but, well... dealing with naughty customers was such a chore without backup! It really was a marvel no backup was to be found at the time. You'd think Alfonso's snoring would've kept the surrounding 3 tents awake for the whole night! (Was that his name?) Is that where carnies usually sleep?

Kaprison didn't know the creature's name, or much about its anything. They'd watched it lie down here for a nap, and then they'd watched it just not get up. Spooky! Haha. Sometimes the stone could just eatcha! Kaprison had been eaten once.

Something about this creature had seemed familiar. Kaprison always chuckled to themself when they got that old itch. What an old, tired, stupid life! They'd remembered something about her, or him, or whomever. Something with a glittering coat, and a bad attitude. Maybe it was all connected. Kaprison wasn't wondering! Whatever connections between them and this feline-beast had been laid to rest cycles ago. Kaprison was just happy for the nap spot!

They slid down. How delightful! The beast had made it easy. Its wings were like a slip-and-slide! A rocky one, but nevertheless. It was a high end piece of entertainment technology the likes of which the caves had never seen before. Kaprison laughed, as much as their throat would allow. Whee!! How fun it was to slide.

At the bottom lay Mr. Snufflekins, askance and askew, his head against the floor. So sad, and yet Kaprison couldn't help their bemusement. Haha, Mr. Snufflekins, that's just what you deserve! For your rotten, no-good thieving criminal life! Not only were you a sour-puss, you were a boring-puss, too! Always picking fights you never win. There's no higher insult—to be boring in a world where sense and stimulation was everything. If you have to lose, at least do it with some gusto!

And now he was split in twain, which is a funny word for two. One on the floor, and one jumping down to reach for it. Now that's funny!

Left in the care of the sleeping clownbeast was Kaprison's lion stuffed animal, and all the many treasures the beast and Kaprison now shared on account of the fact that they were roommates. No consent form required—and none signed. Kaprison would be taking their ring, however. Couldn't go anywhere without it. With all these dead-end customer service shifts, the chance to conveniently disappear was just too important to lose!

Kaprison trundled out of the entrance to the beast's hideaway. It was a great piece of real estate—led right into the juiciest part of the Carnival! But this, ultimately, is what would have made escape hard. If, that is, Kaprison had not ever-so-cleverly asked for this beauteous thing beforehand! That thing being a gift, the Ring of the Master Thief. And what could be more precious quarry than non-existent company time?

Donning the ring to sneak out, and with their goofy carny-paws slightly muffled too, Kaprison would wander away before any beloved coworkers noticed.]]> assimilation. Isn't that fun? I recall a time that happened, but it wasn't to me.

THE NIGHT is dark. One of those things that none can deny. But with all this light in the caves, in the parts where people tend to keep (to themselves), does anyone ever wonder just how dark it can be? THE WATER is knee deep. The trees climb up from its surface; they are tall and thin. Lovely night for a rowboat. A thousand maws at rest beneath the inky water's surface, but if you can't see nary a one, is it even happening?

Not a soul is glinting through that pitch blackness. Is it Cetus? You've never been before, but you know what it is to swim.

There is a thin veil between many worlds, people are wont to tell you. It's an enchanting thought. Above one, the gleaming, griming hallways of trees, glinting green in the light of nothing. Below, the thousand yard—meter?—stare of an abyss with a hundred warm mouths and a trillion warm teeth to cut through that snaking, sinking cold in your bones. Water feels wet, and the night is dark. And you are moving... forwards.

I can't explain it. Somewhere in my world, there's a ride, and it has left a lasting impression upon me. A blanket over the buildings took its place as the night sky. Starless, and featureless. Beneath it: just water. A track, leading you through a series of scenes from a movie. I'm sure you've been. Unless you haven't.

There's no track here, but you have few—if any—choices. What happens here has already happened, and it has been happening, and it will happen again. Every night. Each one as black.

I have always looked at that featureless night sky, and wondered what it was holding to the Earth?

We're not on Earth. You're not on Earth. You're just trying to keep your head above water. It's everywhere, and there's so much of it, and it's so long, it's gone on for so long—too long now. These sentences, this conjecture. It's only supposed to last two seconds, and then

Something is buzzing now. The sound reminds you of those constant ambient noises you've been drowning out. The sound of black water sloshing, the sound of birds cawing. The sound of buzzing. The sound of breath. Of breathing. Perhaps it is because the mouth and nose are so connected, but hearing has got you tasting, and tasting has got you smelling now, too. There's very little to taste. Water. Algae. Water, for the umpteenth time. If only you could taste the night, or treat it like a spice to liven up your meals. I can taste the night. I can remember those
Red

Some things tend to loop back around on themselves. Right now, I only remember the beginning and the end. Does the middle part even matter, or is it just the two of us trying to whittle down spare time? I suppose it is that traipsing crawl that composes the middle section, with every second that passes. We couldn't escape the middle if we tried. Even if it's only full of our mistakes.

But if you want your end so bad, here, you can take it: somewhere above you, one of these trees has a branch. A branch low enough that you could maybe hold it, if you promised to keep it safe. It's all junk—it's all junk! Just throw it out with the bath

There has to be a branch somewhere for you, or else you would have heard the end to that incessant calling by now. The clamor of the bells. It's so annoying, it's going to disrupt your

There was something red in that darkness, in the cloud above your head. Something reaching forward, or staying still—ready to pluck you out. You don't know what it is. Its eyes are so beautiful. There's not a body of water in these caves that could go on for this long. Can you tell I hardly dream? He was diagnosed with insomnia, but maybe it should be you. My dreams are blacker than this.

From underneath the waterfront, and carved within the birds' legs, and up above in that red moon sky, a card appears to you. The alpha and omega. If life is the space sustained between two points of total entropy, then you now see the legs which frame its face. That face you've seen before, but can't seem to recall.

THE MISSING FACE
That which watches, but evades... capture? Responsibility? Death?

You are plucked out of your own ocean. The game is set.
~~~


Kaprison wakes up.

They're already laughing. The smile pains and the croak in their throat suggest that they've been laughing for a while—maybe all night. They chortle and chuckle (and cough) their way to an upright position. A sit. And such a good one, too.

They shake. Full body shimmy, all over. Gotta get it all out. Mr. Snufflekins, is his new name now—that's the stuffed toy the crew gave Kaprison to sleep with at night. So delightful. Look at his cute button eyes! He's shaped like a lion. That's so funny! Kaprison knows they used to be one. It probably sucked, not having cute little hands to do silly stuff with. They had paws, with an extra claw for catching. Almost hands—but not quite! Catching meat, eating it raw. Kaprison dreamed about it sometimes, but they could never remember the taste. Huh!

They toss Mr. Snufflekins aside, and the dejected lion toy let out a pitiful squeak on its way to the floor. Who knows where carnies sleep—it's not my job to tell you! But this carny slept on pure quartz tonight. Last night. Is that what this stuff was? Grossular, some kind of garnet, and a calcium-aluminum mineral as it would seem. Kaprison didn't know! They were just here for the fun of it.

And the memories. Somewhere buried underneath the stone was a creature they'd encountered once, snuffling its way through their stock of hotdogs and popped corns at night. Haha! How ridiculous. They'd thought to ward it off, but, well... dealing with naughty customers was such a chore without backup! It really was a marvel no backup was to be found at the time. You'd think Alfonso's snoring would've kept the surrounding 3 tents awake for the whole night! (Was that his name?) Is that where carnies usually sleep?

Kaprison didn't know the creature's name, or much about its anything. They'd watched it lie down here for a nap, and then they'd watched it just not get up. Spooky! Haha. Sometimes the stone could just eatcha! Kaprison had been eaten once.

Something about this creature had seemed familiar. Kaprison always chuckled to themself when they got that old itch. What an old, tired, stupid life! They'd remembered something about her, or him, or whomever. Something with a glittering coat, and a bad attitude. Maybe it was all connected. Kaprison wasn't wondering! Whatever connections between them and this feline-beast had been laid to rest cycles ago. Kaprison was just happy for the nap spot!

They slid down. How delightful! The beast had made it easy. Its wings were like a slip-and-slide! A rocky one, but nevertheless. It was a high end piece of entertainment technology the likes of which the caves had never seen before. Kaprison laughed, as much as their throat would allow. Whee!! How fun it was to slide.

At the bottom lay Mr. Snufflekins, askance and askew, his head against the floor. So sad, and yet Kaprison couldn't help their bemusement. Haha, Mr. Snufflekins, that's just what you deserve! For your rotten, no-good thieving criminal life! Not only were you a sour-puss, you were a boring-puss, too! Always picking fights you never win. There's no higher insult—to be boring in a world where sense and stimulation was everything. If you have to lose, at least do it with some gusto!

And now he was split in twain, which is a funny word for two. One on the floor, and one jumping down to reach for it. Now that's funny!

Left in the care of the sleeping clownbeast was Kaprison's lion stuffed animal, and all the many treasures the beast and Kaprison now shared on account of the fact that they were roommates. No consent form required—and none signed. Kaprison would be taking their ring, however. Couldn't go anywhere without it. With all these dead-end customer service shifts, the chance to conveniently disappear was just too important to lose!

Kaprison trundled out of the entrance to the beast's hideaway. It was a great piece of real estate—led right into the juiciest part of the Carnival! But this, ultimately, is what would have made escape hard. If, that is, Kaprison had not ever-so-cleverly asked for this beauteous thing beforehand! That thing being a gift, the Ring of the Master Thief. And what could be more precious quarry than non-existent company time?

Donning the ring to sneak out, and with their goofy carny-paws slightly muffled too, Kaprison would wander away before any beloved coworkers noticed.]]> <![CDATA[Two lanky kids duke it out]]> https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12858 Fri, 24 Jul 2026 21:18:08 -0500 https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12858
So they picked one direction that looked like it led to shelter and headed that way. It took a big chunk of luck and an even bigger chunk of time before they stumbled into Tunnel F. A tug of the familiar (but how could anything be familiar, when they knew nothing?) as tree branches curled and intertwined with one another, forming a tunnel that breathed and lived. Seeker scampered from shadow to shadow, avoiding the crystals that emitted an all-too revealing light, and eventually found an alcove amongst the trees that they squeezed themselves into. Vegetation pressed against their flanks, though they had room to turn around completely and stretch their stubby legs.

This spot was cozy. But was it secluded enough for them to rest here awhile?

@Sausage]]>
So they picked one direction that looked like it led to shelter and headed that way. It took a big chunk of luck and an even bigger chunk of time before they stumbled into Tunnel F. A tug of the familiar (but how could anything be familiar, when they knew nothing?) as tree branches curled and intertwined with one another, forming a tunnel that breathed and lived. Seeker scampered from shadow to shadow, avoiding the crystals that emitted an all-too revealing light, and eventually found an alcove amongst the trees that they squeezed themselves into. Vegetation pressed against their flanks, though they had room to turn around completely and stretch their stubby legs.

This spot was cozy. But was it secluded enough for them to rest here awhile?

@Sausage]]> <![CDATA[Noisy Welcome]]> https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12758 Wed, 01 Jul 2026 19:06:50 -0500 https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=12758

Tucked into a hidden alcove between the trees, a tiny chrysalis shivered and cracked. The little creature inside stretched and strained, beak tapping blindly at the walls, before they finally gave way and it tumbled out.

Larkspur was given a gentle welcome into the world: the soil soft underfoot cradling her oh-so-carefully, the warm glow of labradorite waystones illuminating the gnarled roots that tangled along either side. To one direction lay Pegasus, where--though she didn't know it--endless meadows and a clear river would invite her to make herself at home, if she wished.

But what's this? To the other direction, there came all sorts of sounds. Shouting, music, laughing, the bustling of games and machines and the scent of animals and food. The baby tree swallow's head turned, her eyes fixed on the Carnival tents a short distance away. People! She would like people, she thought. Where other people were would surely be where she belonged as well.

She responded to the noise with her own series of rapid, high chirps and scrambled to join them. Little feet pushed off on the soft soil and she shot into the air in a flurry of brown wings.

Carnival, here she comes!

]]>

Tucked into a hidden alcove between the trees, a tiny chrysalis shivered and cracked. The little creature inside stretched and strained, beak tapping blindly at the walls, before they finally gave way and it tumbled out.

Larkspur was given a gentle welcome into the world: the soil soft underfoot cradling her oh-so-carefully, the warm glow of labradorite waystones illuminating the gnarled roots that tangled along either side. To one direction lay Pegasus, where--though she didn't know it--endless meadows and a clear river would invite her to make herself at home, if she wished.

But what's this? To the other direction, there came all sorts of sounds. Shouting, music, laughing, the bustling of games and machines and the scent of animals and food. The baby tree swallow's head turned, her eyes fixed on the Carnival tents a short distance away. People! She would like people, she thought. Where other people were would surely be where she belonged as well.

She responded to the noise with her own series of rapid, high chirps and scrambled to join them. Little feet pushed off on the soft soil and she shot into the air in a flurry of brown wings.

Carnival, here she comes!

]]> <![CDATA[The Carnival]]> https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=9851 Sat, 01 May 2021 15:41:26 -0500 https://origin.boreal-nights.space/showthread.php?tid=9851 An fox-like imp beckons to you from behind a tree, its body adorned with tiny bells and bright, puffy clothes. Each curl of its hand jingles gently, its wide eyes enticing as it dares to draw you down a mysterious pathway. You feel like you cannot refuse. You step off of the main path and follow the echoing sound of jingles and laughter, though after a time you cannot tell if they are coming from in front of you or from behind you—or are they moving, all around...? You look back, but the path is gone. Trees have shifted to close the space, bushes have moved to scramble your steps—was there ever even a path to begin with!?

Lost, you continue on, in the direction that you think is forward. Music can be heard now, it bumps and bangs and squeaks and honks: it sounds so joyful! But at the same time, it also sounds... off. Like it missed a key or two every now and then...

Finally, you break free of the foliage prison and find yourself among a gathering of strangely dressed creatures, various stalls of food and goodies, rows of mini-games, and several rides, each with their own host waiting to introduce their respective charge. The colors seem to shift with the light of the tunnel, from golds and reds to oranges and purples; lights strung up by poles and wires web their way through the entire space. Mist crawls along the ground, making it impossible to tell how far this space really goes. It is littered with both bare trees and trees with shimmering leaves, scattered with naked bushes and thin, thorny stalks peppered with flowers.

In the center is a large tent, large enough to fit even the largest valkhounds, and within it plays a show with lesser gembound trained to do tricks—though not all of them seem cooperative, so sit in these stands at your own peril.

The food and snack stalls have questionable things at best—ranging from candies and sugary treats, fried foods, and hot dogs to things that look like science experiments—except for the caramel popcorn which seems almost too normal. Considering the cursed appearance of everything else, why would this one seem so safe? Despite how good it looks and tastes, you cannot shake the urge to feel immediately suspicious of it.

The rides consist of a boat-like structure that rocks itself back and forth, until it reaches higher and higher on each side to finally spin around—except sometimes it spins too fast. There is a ride with connected carts that follow a track in a circle, speeding up until it is nauseatingly fast, and then it lurches to a halt and begins to spin backwards. The speed of this ride makes it feel unsafe, as if the carts could come of the rails at any moment... and they do! You witness the train snag a bump and the carts come flying free, but land safely back on the rails... this time. Finally, there is a carousel, with mounts made of gleaming crystal in all different colors, their shapes... familiar, and their eyes too warm. Were these once living animals? Are they living now? You lean in to inspect one, and its eye snaps to focus on you.

You jump back. The imp carny who operates the carousel notices and shoots you a quick smirk.

"That's the ones come in, and don't leave," he says with a laugh that sounds more like a smoker's cough: it is chunky and deep, and he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Just kidding." His eyes narrow and his smile grows.

You decide to check out the house of mirrors instead. It has a lot of wacky rooms and paths, though sometimes it feels like your reflection does a different action than you, or takes a different turn—but when you look, it's normal. Then the reflection winks. You stumble back into a turning tube-like tunnel that feels like it is endless, the moving space-like image within it is encompassing and engulfing. You can see the light on the other end but feel like you cannot reach it, tripping over your feet and falling continuously into the void. And then, you're free! You manage to escape the Fun House entirely... somehow. You look back curiously, and spot your reflection in one last mirror, but it doesn't do anything funny. It did wink once, right? As you turn your back, your reflection waves goodbye.


Somewhere hidden in the trees, Nemean high-fives the Collector's palm with both of her tiny paws.
The Carnival is here! Your characters are free to discover and enter this space in their own threads, but they must roll for their safety at each attraction, and for their attempts to escape back into Tunnel F.

Fails can be determined by you, but you may also Request GM to roll one for you.

Attraction prizes range from carnival-themed accessories, plushies, and useless knicknacks to dead animals, bones, and various other strange, macabre items. You may roll for them yourself or Request GM to roll something random for you.

There is a small pond with an underwater tunnel connecting to a stream in Tunnel F, but its passageway is just as mysterious and difficult to follow as its land-side twin.
]]> An fox-like imp beckons to you from behind a tree, its body adorned with tiny bells and bright, puffy clothes. Each curl of its hand jingles gently, its wide eyes enticing as it dares to draw you down a mysterious pathway. You feel like you cannot refuse. You step off of the main path and follow the echoing sound of jingles and laughter, though after a time you cannot tell if they are coming from in front of you or from behind you—or are they moving, all around...? You look back, but the path is gone. Trees have shifted to close the space, bushes have moved to scramble your steps—was there ever even a path to begin with!?

Lost, you continue on, in the direction that you think is forward. Music can be heard now, it bumps and bangs and squeaks and honks: it sounds so joyful! But at the same time, it also sounds... off. Like it missed a key or two every now and then...

Finally, you break free of the foliage prison and find yourself among a gathering of strangely dressed creatures, various stalls of food and goodies, rows of mini-games, and several rides, each with their own host waiting to introduce their respective charge. The colors seem to shift with the light of the tunnel, from golds and reds to oranges and purples; lights strung up by poles and wires web their way through the entire space. Mist crawls along the ground, making it impossible to tell how far this space really goes. It is littered with both bare trees and trees with shimmering leaves, scattered with naked bushes and thin, thorny stalks peppered with flowers.

In the center is a large tent, large enough to fit even the largest valkhounds, and within it plays a show with lesser gembound trained to do tricks—though not all of them seem cooperative, so sit in these stands at your own peril.

The food and snack stalls have questionable things at best—ranging from candies and sugary treats, fried foods, and hot dogs to things that look like science experiments—except for the caramel popcorn which seems almost too normal. Considering the cursed appearance of everything else, why would this one seem so safe? Despite how good it looks and tastes, you cannot shake the urge to feel immediately suspicious of it.

The rides consist of a boat-like structure that rocks itself back and forth, until it reaches higher and higher on each side to finally spin around—except sometimes it spins too fast. There is a ride with connected carts that follow a track in a circle, speeding up until it is nauseatingly fast, and then it lurches to a halt and begins to spin backwards. The speed of this ride makes it feel unsafe, as if the carts could come of the rails at any moment... and they do! You witness the train snag a bump and the carts come flying free, but land safely back on the rails... this time. Finally, there is a carousel, with mounts made of gleaming crystal in all different colors, their shapes... familiar, and their eyes too warm. Were these once living animals? Are they living now? You lean in to inspect one, and its eye snaps to focus on you.

You jump back. The imp carny who operates the carousel notices and shoots you a quick smirk.

"That's the ones come in, and don't leave," he says with a laugh that sounds more like a smoker's cough: it is chunky and deep, and he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "Just kidding." His eyes narrow and his smile grows.

You decide to check out the house of mirrors instead. It has a lot of wacky rooms and paths, though sometimes it feels like your reflection does a different action than you, or takes a different turn—but when you look, it's normal. Then the reflection winks. You stumble back into a turning tube-like tunnel that feels like it is endless, the moving space-like image within it is encompassing and engulfing. You can see the light on the other end but feel like you cannot reach it, tripping over your feet and falling continuously into the void. And then, you're free! You manage to escape the Fun House entirely... somehow. You look back curiously, and spot your reflection in one last mirror, but it doesn't do anything funny. It did wink once, right? As you turn your back, your reflection waves goodbye.


Somewhere hidden in the trees, Nemean high-fives the Collector's palm with both of her tiny paws.
The Carnival is here! Your characters are free to discover and enter this space in their own threads, but they must roll for their safety at each attraction, and for their attempts to escape back into Tunnel F.

Fails can be determined by you, but you may also Request GM to roll one for you.

Attraction prizes range from carnival-themed accessories, plushies, and useless knicknacks to dead animals, bones, and various other strange, macabre items. You may roll for them yourself or Request GM to roll something random for you.

There is a small pond with an underwater tunnel connecting to a stream in Tunnel F, but its passageway is just as mysterious and difficult to follow as its land-side twin.
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