Tsulan yawned and stretched out over her big grubbag chair. She was bored, like usual. You could only patrol the perimeter of the camp so many times, her psi students had the day off because there was an electrical storm brewing, and she was up to date on all the fics she was following online. She grabbed her husktop and scrolled through her forums again. Still nothing. She groaned and let the screen rest on her forehead for a moment before putting it back down on the floor. She tossed her dragon knuckles idly and her tarot deck popped out of her sylladex. Well, she wasn't one to ignore the leanings of fate, so she sat on the floor by her grubbag chair and drew a three-card spread just to see what was up with the universe today. First: the eight of swords. Second: the clown. And third: the page of swords. Tsulan leaned her elbows on her knees and put her chin in her hands, pondering the cards. Eight of swords - trapped, limiting beliefs, blind spots. For her, presumably. Interesting. Next, the clown: beginnings, innocence, spontaneity. And finally, the Page of swords: someone talkative and curious. So perhaps she had a blind spot she hadn't realized, and the way through it to a new phase was by befriending someone talkative and curious? She pulled another card: the Grand Highblood. Fascinating. She reshuffled her deck and placed it back in her modus before pulling her husktop over and posting a status update to her profile on her favourite forum... "looking for a friendly clown to ʃwap info about majykkʃ ! teach me the ʃecretʃ of the dark carnival :3" She closed the window and opened GrubFlix. May as well rewatch some Troll Downton Abbey, she didn't have anything to do anyway... Spoiler: ooc paging @taxonomicAtrocity in case you're still interested!
You sprawl out on one of the slightly mangy respite plateaus that serve as seating in the common block. You're alone, tonight, everyone off completing their chores and working at their Carnival acts while you laze around, stuck languishing on cupe rest due to a sprained ankle. Mothergrub's saggy heftsacks do you ever hate being alone. Too much time to think, ugh. You turn your attention to your tablet, skimming through your usual haunts to try and find something entertaining. You zero in on a post on one of those panreligious forums that you're on no grounds supposed to be visiting. (Ah, well. As far as indiscretions go, yours is minor.) After a moment's hesitation, you shrug and shoot them a PM. Hey, at least talking theology is something to do. #hi! #would, like. #a not-quite-clown be cool by you? #because i totally room with a bunch! #and, like. i perform in a circus? #but i'm not mirthful myself, lol. #um! anyway! #i can prolly field a few questions?
You perk up when the notification pops up in the corner of your screen, and you swap windows. Troll Downton Abbey keeps playing in the background, but that's fine. You eagerly read the message, and bounce up and down a little bit with excitement before you reply. "yeʃ! that would be great! omg tell me everything. um I gueʃʃ I ʃhould be more ʃpecific! okay - well - how do the mirthful do divination? that'ʃ kind of my thing, ʃo I'll ʃtart there. oh - what iʃ your Trollian handle? if we are going to chat we may aʃ well take it there :3"
Dang, she doesn't dawdle when it comes to response time. You lay back and watch the lines of text fill up your screen. (It's a tiny screen, okay. You bought this husk yourself and your rust stipend is not generous.) #mostly, like #dririmancy? which is super stereotypical, lol #like, if you had to guess, that would totally be your guess? #clowns and blood and all that #there are a couple of other ways still in use but that's basically the only one my circus uses? #most of them have to do with using bodies tho #and i'm agileTrouper?
You read the message, fascinated. Of course it would be dririmancy. You swap windows to Trollian and fire off a new message. equinoctialEremitic [eE] has started trolling agileTrouper [aT]! eE: hiya! i waʃ juʃt meʃʃaging you about clownʃ! eE: i ʃhould have gueʃʃed dririmancy, that'ʃ a little embarraʃʃing eE: do they uʃe ʃpecific colorʃ of blood for ʃpecific queʃtionʃ? eE: do they ever uʃe their own blood? eE: do they have to harveʃt the blood themʃelveʃ? eE: alʃo i'm tʃulan!
aT: #omg hi! aT: #i mean sometimes they, like, do other stuff? aT: #especially if it involves body parts? aT: #sometimes! aT: #the circumstances surrounding collection are just as important tho? aT: #like aT: #some questions can only be answered if your donor is willing, or hatched under a certain star, or w/e? aT: #there's totally a lot more that goes into it than just hemocaste! aT: #mirthful blood can be spilled so long as it, like, meets all the other qualifications? and it's what they use for a lot of intrachurch stuff? aT: #if a clown can't, like, harvest their own blood then they have no right to use it for divining! aT: #and i'm kamira
eE: oooh that makes sense eE: hi kamira! :3 eE: what sort of magic do the mirthful use body parts for? eE: do they perform any incantatory magic? runes? oooh i bet they write incantations as jokes eE: is there such thing as limerick magic? oh OH or knock knock jokes! could you unwittingly curse some unlucky troll with a knock knock joke? or double the effectiveness by two mirthful telling the joke to each other? eE: what about puns? are those lowbrow magic, or highbrow? eE: what happens if the joke isn't funny? eE: SO MANY OPTIONS. i can't believe i haven't explored this yet! it's fascinating! eE: also, what's sometroll on our end of the spectrum doing in a circus of the Mirthful Messiahs?
