nestingdevil | (no subject)

You wake up to pavement.

Maybe you fell somewhere during the fiasco at the carnival. Maybe, you just went through a room, hoping to find an exit. Either way, the ground below you now is solid - the lukewarm touch of uneven cobblestone slick and sticky like the end of a summer rain. It may be humid where you woke up; the feeling similar to that of a pipe's slow, industrial groan tickling by your ear. The air is heavy and dank. Rich and pungent. The smell a cocktail of a incense burner dumbed-down by tobacco, liquor, and the heavy char of a grill. Or perhaps, it’s simply hot - the dry heat as crisp and alive as a rip-roaring oven fire clawing out of its cage. No matter where you've ended up, as pinks hum into focus and the world becomes more clear, one thing’s for certain:

You’re hardly alone.

While the carnival may have been crowded, where ever you are now? It’s swarmed. The sights, the sounds, the small feet stepping around you or offering you a hand - they’re countless. Beads and coins garnish the street in a swill of booze. All around you, both live music and skipping records blare and echo through the narrow alleyways. It's an odd mismatch and loud sure enough, but somehow they mess together. A dive-bar swill fuzzy and muted by the hoots and hollers of the crowd. For some, the place may be familiar; a little gem hidden away and brought to life by nothing more than a flick from a matchbox. For others, though, well. If you listen close, there's a saying going around:

"There are monsters in our backyard, there's no point in lying. A finger on the glass, there's no use trying. So, let 'em all in, they ain't no foe. Because the Gods are more wretched than the devil we know."

Welcome to Djävulenstad's Monster Mardi Gras. Or as the locals call it:

The Devil's Night.

From the slick-neon parade trundling down the street to the wafts of wood piled high in flat-top dishes stretched long enough to touch each side of an alleyway, the place in a whirl. Got caught on a narrow corner? Careful of the booze overhead. Whether it be from roof tops above, shaken and spat out of champagne bottles on the street, or simply poured out of a barrel around the next corner, you may get a drench or two on your way. If you've avoid all that, you may, instead, find yourself smeared with paint. By choice, or otherwise. Whatever the case, most of the locals are pretty welcoming this time of year. Still, you may find a few keeping a watchful eye on you, especially if you're from out of town. Because while the rules here are slim and order is questionable, this is a town infested. A home for criminals and thieves, outcasts and out-liners alike, living by their own standard. And you better believe that, despite the festivities?

They are certainly paying attention.

However, you are here, so why not join in on the fun? You may find yourself shoved into the crowd, or you can browse some of the local shops and businesses. Most, if not all, have some sort of special running the length of the week. However, if you're looking for some entertainment during your stay? Oh, oh, look no further -

➥ The Leaving Parade
Strange as everything is, you might notice something particular about a few of residents in town. A handful of humans have a smear on their forehead. Maybe you've seen it passing by - a small line gathered in an alleyway, a little group huddled on the street. There are bowls of red kept out in particular points around the celebration. A concoction of oil, dust, paint, and a healthy helping of liquor poured out for good measure. Whether in line or casually walking by, a couple of people dip their fingers in, drawing the distinct shape of an upside-down cross between their eyes. However the gatherings are slim and if you look close, they're a particular sort. Some are elderly: couples, solo. Others look ill as they're pushed in by a wheelchair or helped up on to the curb. One or two might get into line alone. A group might come in together. No matter the circumstance, there's a peacefulness to their expression. As if the mark has some sort of significant meaning. Each and everyone is given a purple light to hold and as they make their way through town, the locals shower them. Beads are tossed around their necks, fresh bottles of wine, scotch, and rum are ripped open and poured over their heads. Should you and yours try to do the same, the locals will shoo you off. However ask around and, no doubt, you'll get the reason why.

"They're leaving," one will explain. "You know how it works here - monsters have to eat to survive. The people over there? They're ready to go. You're new 'round these parts, aren't ya? We've got our own laws here and this - it's just a part of it. We're going to give them the best send off. See those two? They've been married a long time and they want to go together. And that guy? Been battling the same disease for a year now. Yeah, sure, they've got that hospital in Bavan, but who wants to rot in a room for how many months it takes? N'aw, n'aw. They're goin' out in style and we'll give 'em a party all the way 'til the end."

Because this is the Parade of the Leaving and the leaving?

They go on their own terms.

➥Roulette of Fire
There's a desert on the outskirts of town and as the celebrations continue, you may see lights throbbing up from the dunes. It's bright out there: too bright. As if a collection of bonfires has been ignited one by and one. Get close and you'll be able to see what it's all about. There are pits of fire strung around the desert. A couple are small camping bundles: little dots strung about the sand, stretching for miles. However, the rest? They're massive. Sculptures of steel fume during the night - their methane gas eating up stars and sky alike as they woof and huff the nightly hour. Tall or large, small or squat, it's truly a sight. Though, some of the artists have taken to making sculptures of some particular monsters. A Minotaur with a signature sword. A werewolf with a giant, steel-clawed hand. Perhaps a shade, smeared in a mixture of thick, black paint and strung out with a scarf soaked in fire. Or even a harpy, done up in a wrapping of bulbs like that of a needle-bare Christmas tree, blinking off-key.

The people here like their monsters, after all, and maybe, just maybe, you know a few of 'em.

For those who aren't interested, there are other forms of entertainment. Truck loads of booze and food are brought out during the evening and parked along in an odd, caravan-sprawl. A couple of pop-up venues hum on the outskirts. Dancing, music, you name it. Whatever you're looking for, it's here. But the real show's the big race and when midnight draws in, there's a visible change. Under a thud of drums and a squeal of music, the disjointed engine noise is almost deafening. Bikes, cars, some of the trucks that have been serving you through the night - they're gearing up. If you and yours are feeling up to it, you can join in. Winner of the race gets free drinks on the Devil's Nest tab.

But be careful because the normal rules of the road?

They don't apply here.

➥The Devil's Nest
You've heard of it, haven't you? It's the whole reason the town exists in the first place. Hidden in the center, the bar's previous history has kept up its reputation. The hours may be irregular with the holiday, but during the week, you'll see the familiar faces around. Perhaps at an outdoor bar, offering up a taste test. Maybe, you'll notice some who have called the place home. Whatever the case, the 'Nest itself seems to be everywhere in town. For those marked with a tattoo, the fee for drinks is waived. Anyone else? You get half off the first one, but remember: it's always a one time offer.

Note: Most of the homes, businesses, etc will have yellow candles lit. If you're wondering what they are, one of the locals will be happy to explain what they mean. Anyone who wants to stay the week will have to take up temporary residence in town and a couple of places will be offering apartments, rooms, etc, for a fee. If you and yours decides to leave however, they'll need a matchbox to come back. Otherwise, no matter where you go? The town will be impossible to find. So make sure to keep your key close.

Also a word to the wise: should you kill or eat any of the human residents? The carnival and its horrors will be the least of your concerns.

Any questions, comments, etc? See here for some city-wide info.