2019-08-10 - The Worms Crawl In

Alexander has already made his round of visits at the hospital for the day; he can only spend so long in those sterile halls with all the pain and desperation built right down into the masonry, before he just has to get out. The park isn't far, and it's nice walk, even though he's overdressed, with a long-sleeved, open button-down shirt over his University of Oregon t-shirt, the cuffs kept buttoned to stay down over the bandages on one arm. He stares at the carousel, thoughtfully, and then drifts in that direction.

Why ride such a thing? Honestly, it's just a whim, a momentary burst of curiosity and a hint of amusement. So he ignores the way the ticket taker looks at him, like she's about to call To Catch a Predator, and slips onto a fine black horse. His feet touch the floor, so it's almost like he's just standing over the thing rather than riding it, but again, something in appeals to his sense of the absurd.

Until that shift and turn, and he's suddenly looking around and going, "Oh no."

After stowing away her pretty new snowglobe, Kelsey made her way towards the Park to enjoy the day a little more before holing up in her house for the night. And so, what better way to spend the day than riding the carousel?? The thought seemed to surprise Kelsey at first, because when was the last time she'd gone on a carousel? And then that cemented the decision because it HAD been about forever. So why not. She could be young at heart! Or something. Anyway. So she's claimed one of the horses and is listening to that terrible song.

Her eyes had closed at some point but then flew open when she felt that shift in the air. Looking downward to see her horse was now a skeleton horse! One hand is gripping the pole a little tighter, the other is rubbing at her forehead, as if trying to block out the noise. That insufferable noise. Looking around to see who else might be here too, or if she was alone.

Minerva just wanted to be alone, but didn't want to be inside. The buckshot had been cleaned out of the gun shot from a few nights ago and it was healing nicely. So the one eyed woman had decided to go down to the carousel and see how that was doing. She'd chosen a trusty black horse and was sitting sidesaddle as ladies in dresses do. Her wide brimmed hat was still on. She never imagined that they'd get Willy Wonka'd! When she looks down and sees that her horse is now headless. Her one good eye is wide in horror and the woman slowly starts to slip off the horse, like one tries to sneak out of conversation that they don't want to be a part of.

Yves is not only riding a carousel, he is dressed appropriately in dusky orange vintage western shirt that has, get this: cream coloured suede fringe. Matches the cream horseshoes embroidered along the shoulders -- paired with orange-tinted aviators and hopefully faux-gator boots underneath those jeans... It's ironic, right? Nobody dresses like that without a shred of irony, surely...

But the whistling -- Yves' perpetual whistling along with the melody of the carousel... Perhaps the punishment for the sin to good taste is this wild ride, as the stomach-churning pull of... The shift, as the world pulls back to reveal another below - behind - beyond... And if a person was listening, real close, they might hear that whistling stop - interrupted, instead, by the melodic outsider-accent of Yves' deadpan: "...Yeehaw."

August has gotten more and more used to just following his instincts since becoming a bit more acquainted with the oddness which is Glimmer and everything related to it. Today, his instincts say, go to the park. He's drawn the carousel, and he has no idea why. It might not be a good idea to get on it; who knows if that old ear injury will pick today to act up. But he does. He doesn't sit on an animal, just stands next to one. (He's too tall, it would look comical at best and be wildly uncomfortable at worst.) He's in a dark blue Henley t-shirt, denim jeans, and plain black boots.

And then, then...that happens. He starts as the perfectly normal carousel pig he'd been standing next to is now some sort of...hellboar...thing. And that song is hammering in his head. His tinnitus is going to act up for sure. So he tries to work his way off the carousel, without falling in a heap.

Carver's reasoning? Everyone else was doing it. He's got his usual attire, sans-waistcoat. That long, comfortable coat despite the heat, the tie around his neck loosened and casual, and a box of popcorn chicken being idly munched on as he walks down the path, watching the Carousel pick up more custom in the span of minutes than it has any time he's passed it previously.

He never fully rides the creature he picked out, instead draping an arm around the neck of it, tipping his head back to empty the last remnants of the box into an upturned and open mouth. When he once again lowers both his head and the box, it sees him coming eye-to-giant-eye of a colossal and twisted crow, impaled by the silver spear of the carousel, beak frozen open in a screech at the now-warped hellboar in front of it.

"Bird." He states, a half-chewed piece of breaded chicken dropping from his mouth. That's just bad timing.

Byron Thorne is very familiar with the local hospital about now. He's been in its care as of recent and so has many of his friends. This time included. So after having paid Isabella Reede a visit, he stops by at the park for some quiet time to reflect. Dressed in a tan suit jacket ensemble, complete with a dark silk tie to reflect that this was a day of relaxation that a day of work, with his expensive sunglasses on, he seems drawn to the carousel, hearing the music playing in the distance.

He remembers it well, having climbed all over that thing as a child with his friends. Maybe he doesn't notice the faces around him, so caught up in his nostalgia. He wasn't meaning to step onto the ride, but he finds himself there, moving down the aisle of horses and other fantastical carousel creatures. He then finds one to ride, a majestic white horse. So dashing. Like himself. It's only when he climbs onboard the thing in his fancy suit does he kind of take notice at the others who also seemed lured to do the same. What an interesting collection there was here!

Then it begins, the music becomes terrible and annoying all the same. Things begin to change and he's about ready to get down off of this damn horse no matter how majestic it once was. "Wonderful. So it begins." What this 'it' is, he does not say. But has a suspicion.

A little part of Kelsey is relieved to see that she is not alone. The other part is thinking 'Oh great. I gotta make sure all these people don't die'. She slowly starts to get off her skeleton horse. Or, she would have, if she wasn't suddenly trapped. "Jesus Christ." Gripping the pole tighter and trying to focus on not freaking the fuck out. And. was the carousel getting faster?! Oh lord. "So. We're probably all gonna die right?" Kelsey asks to those who are seemingly also suck here! The question sounds remarkably upbeat for someone gripping the pole of her horse for dear life.

Alexander's hands go immediately to his safety belt, as soon as he realizes he is riding what looks like a pissed off murder-bear instead of a horse. He makes a very unhappy noise when he finds the change to the belt. "Fuck." He looks around, notes familiar faces. "Hi. Don't die." Then he takes a deep breath, and starts looking around for any sort of release on the belt, or emergency stop lever for the accelerating carousel. Because this place is DEFINITELY OSHA compliant. Surely.

Minerva doesn't like being STUCK ON A HEADLESS HORSE. Even if she does look like Death's Rider. Then she hears the others and she squints one eye, "No, hopefully we won't die." she tells Kelsey helpfully. Then there's a frown to Alexander, "Not helping, Mister Clayton!" she states. Then things are speeding up and she starts muttering in a foreign tongue. Praying? Praying might be good for now.

Byron can't understand how the simple minds of children aren't just driven mad by listening to this melody play over and over and over-- Perhaps, that's the reason. A child's mild is simple. However, this grotesquely whimsical tune isn't only annoying as fuck, it's also maddening in a sense. His grip tightens on the carousel pole just as one hand reaches to his temple at first, then shifts towards his ear.

It doesn't help that the ride is picking up speed, forcing him to lean forward in his saddle, gripping the mechanical beast just to keep himself from falling, even though his initial intent was to hop right off! Nevermind that the thing that he's now riding bears almost no semblance to the knightly horse he had boarded to begin with.

He doesn't look to be in pain, but he's distracted by... something. His hand starts rubbing at his ear before brushing through his hair and along his scalp. "God, make it stop already." It's hard to say if he's talking about the ride or something else.

August stares down at the chain around his stomach. Well. This is new and horrible. And now it's speeding up! This is becoming a really, really big problem. He starts recognizing other people stuck on the carousel.

Like Alexander, he starts looking for a way to stop the carousel. Not to break the chain though; he's reasonably sure he can do that, but if they can't stop the carousel it's the only thing holding them in place. And the song sure is getting annoying. So he starts murmuring something else under his breath to counteract it. The first thing that comes to mind--Journey, in fact. "Some day, love will find you, break those, chains that bind you..." It's a little hard to hold onto, since it's a completely different beat than what they're being assaulted with, but he tries his best.

"Bird." Carver says again, patting the twisted version of... well, a bird. He's pretty sure it didn't look like that a minute ago. Does he notice the speed increase? Hard to tell. Does he notice the other people? Probably not. They aren't him. Why would he?

Does he notice the music? Oh, absolutely. his arm slipping around the pole that impales the crow beneath him, impatiently sticking both pinky fingers into his ears. The empty chicken box is discarded as a result. "You take a shortcut ONCE, Aly..." he complains. Mostly to himself. It's not like anyone can hear him over the tune.

Yves' blasé approach to the sudden and unavoidable shift from ironic jaunt in the park to wild ride on hellscape carousel is short lived. The once-welcomed safety belt has become a binding shackle from which there is no release -- and there is no more deadpan commentary from the hipster/oddball, there is just a fruitless jerk against chains, and a poorly stifled cry of alarm as he fails to disengage himself from the skeletal night-mare he rides in on.

An apprehensive look left, an apprehensive look right -- Yves may be trying to see who is actually /here/, but it doesn't seem like he's able to actually form together anything like a coherent sentence or cry for assistance.

The song won't stop, but to Kelsey, it sounds less like a song now and more like an intense onslaught of just...noise. She actually goes so far as it hit her head against the pole she's holding JUST to try and see if it somehow helps something. It doesn't. It just hurts like hell now. She almost goes for it again, but then she hears August. Vaguely. She knows that song. Humming a bit to try and get the tune, to IGNORE the buzzing in her head. "One night will remind you...how we touched...and went our separate ways." She adds in, though her voice trails off. It's so hard to try and focus on something other than the STUPID SONG. She starts tugged at her ear. It's like an itch she can't quite scratch.

Then it's getting worse, and she maybe also feels something in her throat too because she tried to stop it. Her hands release the pole and she's scratching. At her ears, throats, face, scalp. Trying to MAKE IT STOP. Just barely holding it together.

"I'm chained to a fucking bear while 'It's a Small World' plays," Alexander points out to Minerva, voice tense. "I'm doing the best I can. Helping." Which isn't much. A worried glance towards Byron, then back at the mirrored central pillar of the ride. It probably doesn't run on electricity, but he starts extending a hand in that direction, anyway. Until the soundtrack skips, and...

"WHAT THE FUCK!" A panicked exclamation from Alexander as the itching starts. And worse. He's trying to sneeze, shaking his head and leaning over, trying to...force something out? That's what it looks like, anyway.

Carver swears, just for a second, that he feels something wiggling against the tip of his fingers. Yes, the fingers that are currently plugging up his ears. That's... unpleasant.

He opens his mouth slightly, rolling his jaw as the brigs his hands away from his head, shifting his head from side-to-side and tensing and shifting his jaw in a weird physical combination of trying to get water out of your ear and attempting to equalize pressure on a long-haul fli-

Oh. Oh. Carver just got a terrible idea. His hand comes up to pinch his nose closed, and he does just that, exhaling from the diaphragm directly into a blocked air channel in an attempt to pop his ears.

"Just keep cool. Just...I don't know. Fuck." Minerva states in a tone that's doing good to hide the panic. Reassuring people wasn't the Doctors specialty was at the moment. She struggles with the chains. Wrapping her fingers around them until her already pale knuckles are bone white to jerk on them, trying to get free. Then there's the itching and the tall Gothy woman starts to scratch at her throat and then her face, those long finger nails of hers leave red welts in their wake as she scratches at the itching.

Byron had felt that itch, that maddening feeling that something was crawling inside of his head long before the others had. Perhaps everyone else was the lucky ones. Now whatever is going on, what hypnotic message the song had over him has finally dug its slimy, wormy claws into the minds of everyone else around him. They finally get to experience what he's been going through all along!

The song was distracting, but the sensations creeping around within his head was even more so. He wants to throw both of his hands over his ears to block the music out, but that would mean letting go of that damn horse thing. Clayton. He catches sight of Alexander aboard his own monstrous steed, before his eyes wander the ride. "Try to find a way to shut the music off!" He calls out to the others. "HIt it at its source." It's only a random thought being thrown out. One that he can only hope will work.

August grinds his teeth against the itching, sucks in a breath as his throat closes reflexively against whatever that is. "Didn't like that did you," he chokes out, leaning against his hellboar carousel companion. "Any--ideas--" he tries to say to Alexander.

The idea of stopping the song is LOVELY. Except that, when Kelsey can focus enough, there doesn't seem to be a way to stop it. "M-maybe we can---aauugh FUCK!--" Scratch scratch scratch. "Take out the carousel!" She knows they're going fast, but between the speed and the scratching trying to see what is actually surrounding them.

Alexander is trying to think while there are THINGS crawling on HIM and IN HIS NOSE, and this is not a great place for someone with a visceral phobia about touch to be right now. He's bent over the bear, clawing at his nose with one hand, clinging to it with the other. Something he hears, though, has him nodding vigorously. "Break. Break the fucking carousel." And he's going to do his part with that, too, if he can concentrate. He lifts one hand towards the central pillar.

Stop the song, August thinks. And, well, he has an idea. A bad one! Fortunately he can enact it on just himself. He thinks past the itching to his inner ears, and gives them a nice shove, trying to trigger a nice case of tinnitus.

If anyone were to look at Yves, the way his shoulders roll and his body lurches may lead some to suspect that the guy is on the edge of throwing up... Oh god, is he going to spew?! Not yet, at any rate -- a few queasy looking intakes of breath, and something close to composure is had.

"Not, ugh- now." Is this Yves' reaction to the sensation of worms, or to Kelsey's commentary? Yves makes another unsuccessful attempt to wrench free from the chains, turning to look in August's direction then Alexander. "--fear? What's, the opposite--- joy, or, confidence-- what are we /good/ for?"So. Breaking things isn't Yves' preference, apparently.

At the sound of the Carousel squealing to a halt, even if the music doesn't, Carver has just enough time to raise his hands in the air, letting out a "Fuckin' KNEW I-" that is so crudely interrupted by inertia. His shoulder catches the silver pole atop the crow, and the four years of exotic dancing experience he once hallucinated having during a particularly heavy peyote binge do not serve his needs at all. He heads towards the floor of the carousel, a yelp of "AughyouPRICK" squeaking from his mouth before he ends up sprawled, coat slightly bundled up, laying on an arm that while throbbing, at least isn't broken.

"...Knew it." Says Carver, picking his head from the floor to watch something wiggle from someone else's nose. He absolutely did not know it.

Minerva looks around, trying to find the off switch...or something that resembles a mechanism. "There isn't a mechanical...anything running it!" she calls out. Then it just stops and there's a sudden look around. Warily not trusting things as the chains go slack. "Wait...that's suspicious." she mutters. She doesn't fall off the horse, probably because she's gripping the damn chains so hard. "Oh fuck." she whispers when she sees something dangling out of Alexander's nose. "Oh dude. So gross." she gags.

One hand out and the other with the desperate need to get something OUT of himself is not the greatest way to weather a sudden sharp stop. And so, when the carousel decides the ride is over, he's flipped almost neatly over the bear's head and lands on his back with a crash of flesh against floor, staring dazedly at the ceiling. It gives everyone a great view of that little visitor he's got, for a moment.

Kelsey screams as the carousel comes to a stop and she almost gets flung off. Almost. She's hanging on to that pole for dear life and pulls herself back on to the horse. Writhing and wriggling. There's a little blood from all that scratching, and she's still going near her ears. "What the fuck is that?!" She screeches when she sees it in Alexander's nose. Whatever IT is. As she lets go of the pole now that the carousel has stopped. And tries to stand on her own two feet. And try to look for SOMETHING. The source of the music maybe? She's checking her nose too now. To see if there's something there.

Ears humming and ringing, at least August doesn't have to hear the song for the moment. Maybe. He grabs the hellboar the carousel abruptly stops and the chains come off, coughs at the sight of...the worm. "Great it's all Wrath of Khan now," he chokes out.

It's hard to concentrate on looking for carousel speakers with the thing is acting like it's on speed and you feel a bunch of squirmy earworms crowding your brain. While he can't see speakers around and in fact, the music seems to be enveloping them in some thick sickening swarm of irritation, this cry from the others to destroy the carousel is something that Byron takes to heart. If it stops him from wanting to tear through his flesh just to go away, so be i---

Then everything comes to an abrupt halt, catching him off guard and bucking him forward just as those chains unravel from around him to drift away. "Shit!" Is the first thing out of his mouth, as he's trying to catch his breath. He feels jolted, clinging on tightly to his ride to keep him from spilling off the side and onto the floor for the time being.

It's amazing how he hasn't lost those all too expensive sunglasses yet throughout all of this. Taking in some deep breaths, allowing some time, very little, for this heart rate to normalize, he slides himself off of his horse thing. The dark veil of the shades lift so that Byron can get a better look at the crumpled form of Alexander. What he sees is shocking and pretty gross, but seeing as he's feeling /something/ crawling beneath his own skin, just the sight of the worm from Alexander's nose makes him feel ill. "You got..." He gestures, but he figures Clayton knows about it. Rather than linger, however, he asks, "Is everyone alright?" Just out of curiosity, as he attempts to scan the place. See if they are missing something.

Perhaps the cowboy shirt means Yves' has, at some point, ridden a horse before -- the skeletal stead comes to an a very abrupt halt, and he's left going: "Auurg!", and doing his best to fight of motion sickness as he lurches -- rather than is lurched -- as the chains go slack and he slides off his unwanted ride. Boots tap-tap-tapping over the carousel's flooring as he skids ever-so-precariously in the direction of Carver.

"Knew -what-?" Alright, Yves' usually soft n' deadpan voice shows a certain, shall we say, /edge/ to it -- but the man is in the process of trying /not/ scratch obsessively at his face - neck -r right on through his damned skull... Keep it together, Yves! Don't look at the man snotting up unmentionable worms, or the woman gagging at how gross it is, or succumb to panic. Be cool. Be cool!...

Yves looks away from Alexander and Minerva, over to the crow that SCREAMS... and he lowers his hands from not-scratching his head, and reaches into his back pocket, taking out a ratty leather wallet... And some crumpled foam earplugs? Ew, there's fluff attached to one! This does not stop Yves from scrambling to pop them in. Worms be damned. Squinting at Byron, as Yves leans forward in an attempt to read his lips... And shrugs.

Alexander takes an abrupt breath, and rolls to his knees. He is DEFINITELY yanking that thing the fuck out of his head, even though that is a terrible idea. You try not yanking at the nose-worm. YOU JUST TRY.

Carver blinks for a moment. The horse might have been speaking, but that crow was yelling.
"HEY, DO YOU KNOW KNACK-"

Carver cuts himself off, wincing as the music comes back in full force, tampered slightly in his own ears by the sudden yelling he did. "Right. Earplugs. Nevermind!" He also takes a moment or two to consider the fact that of course not all birds know one another. Little bit assumptive there, Carver. C'mon, man.

Any further input from anyone else is muted and ignored, there's no way in hell he's hearing it over the combination of the incessant music and the fact he's slapping at the side of his head, like he's trying to get water out of his ear once more.

Kelsey can feel the THINGS in her throat. She's gagging, trying to cough - trying VERY HARD not to breathe inward and somehow inhale one of these damn things. She stumbled forward and falls to her knees, she barely registers the talking carousel animals as she's claws at her throat again trying to get the worms out. Out. OUT!

Minerva hears a crow croaking and it gets the Goth's attention IMMEDIATELY. "Well, those would be lovely in the real world." she muses as she starts to slide off Harry the Horror Horse and move /away/ from the carousel creatures. She moves to the edge and takes a tentative step to move /OFF/ the carousel. Because fuck this place. 0/10 would not recommend again! But then there's more ITCHING! She scratches her face open with those pointed nails by accident and doesn't really care. "Woah...hey...please no choking to death." she fumbles over to see if she can help Kelsey.

August likewise doubles over, trying to cough up whatever's in his throat. He's pretty sure he knows what it is. But hey at least all he can hear is that not-so-soothing high pitched ringing now.

By the looks of things, everything is not alright. First it's the wiggling thing at Alexander's nose, then it's those uncomfortable looking bulging at a few people's throats. One of them, Byron actually recognizes. It looks like Clayton is dealing with his own problem on his own. No one's probably wanting to touch that. But even if Byron were thinking of helping, taking the first steps in the direction of August and Kelsey, his steps halt every so often as his own nest of squirming things continue to assault mind with no real way of getting them out of there.

Even still, he begins to stumble forward, catching sight of Minerva, a face that he knows of due to recent events, seeing that she goes to help with the girl. An unfamiliar face. He'll try to assist August, "I don't know how, but we're going to try to get that thing out of you."

Earplugs have been put in, and--- "DAMNIT." Yves' volume control is as inefficient as the earplugs seem to be, in lessening his squirming two-step of discomfort. If he had a hat, Yves would throw it on the ground and stomp on it -- but he only has the earplugs, which are crushed under heel. Stomp-stomp-stomp, as Yves starts to... Sing? Technically it is singing -- like how Scremo is technically a genre of music.

"It's a SMALL WORLD, /after/ ALL--" Stomp, stomp, stomp. "It's A small WORLD, after -ALL-..." Stomp. STOMP... And a shift, as the beating of his foot changes tempo; and his erratic tune changes: "It's along way... Woke up this morning, singing an old Beatles song - we're not that strong, My Lord; you know we ain't that strong..."

Yves! That's not the right song to sing.

There's not that much room in my head. It's one of those thoughts that Alexander does not want to entertain, but simply can't help it. Most of him is yammering panic as he pulls and pulls and pulls, determined to get ALL OF THIS out of him, but somewhere, there's a tiny little voice that's commenting, no way could all of this fit in the sinuses. Where's the rest of it curled up, Alexander? Where. Is. The Rest. Of. It? He lets out a sound, a gurgling and horrible (and horrified) sound, and just continues to pull, hand over hand, as fast as he can.

Kelsey is panicking. She hasn't panicked very often recently, but's definitely panicking now. She sees Minera out of the corner of her eyes but ALSO sees a worm trying to come out from behind the eyepath. She reaches up a hand and jams two fingers down her throat to try and encourage the coughing up - or grab at a worm and yank it the fuck out. She is NOT dying to some worms. Not today.

"You gotta..." Minerva tries to tells Kelsey what's needed, but she feels something wriggle near her eyepatch and her first instinct is to electrocute /HERSELF/. But she rips off the eyepatch and tosses it. Gashing her face open in the manic way she does it. "YOU STAY OUT OF THERE YOU GRUBBY LITTLE SHITS!" she hisses as she flicks one away from her eye socket. "THROW UP!" she shouts at August and Kelsey. Carver? Can she see him. It's all so wiggly.

Yves' singing has stopped short, with a wet choking sound of - that's right people - worms. The foot stomping stops, and he falls to his knees -- hands moving to grab at his throat, punching at his own solar plexus in a move that results in him retching and... Ah, he and Kelsey have the same move -- the ol' self induced puke move, like college kids after three too many tequila sunrises.

Only it isn't tequila, it's worms. Remember? Worms.

The worms drop out of his ear canal with a sticky, damp sounding 'SPLORT' of someone pouring a tin of baked beans into a sink.

You know that feeling of relief mixed with disgust you get when you've had a build-up of gas ALL DAY and finally get to feel the relief of pressure, but it comes with an earth shattering noise that lasts for about three and a half minutes, the most rancid of smells, and makes everyone else in the DMV waiting room stare at you? Carver's face does that look. Relief. Then disgust.

August was really hoping he wouldn't need to induce his own vomiting, by that's looking likely. Sadly, he's not unfamiliar with this. I hate literally everything right now, he thinks, and sticks a finger down his throat.

As much as Byron was willing to help August with his choking hazard issue, his attempts at the Heimlich go unrewarded. No, actually, he is rewarded by a squirmy annoying worm of his own now. Probably several many of them to be exact. His hands immediately let go of the choking botanist to try to grasp and tear those nasty things from out of his ear. He works frantically, cursing in his mind with all sorts of profanities. For whatever reason, he's trying to keep his cool. Trying to remain focused on this task at hand.

Unlike the others, he can't just throw this up. But in a sense, he's glad that that was not the option. "Purge it out of you if you can." He'll call out advice to the others. It seems that everyone is distracted by their issues. Whether he'd noticed Carver or not, Byron never cared to call attention to the fact at the time. Not with the obnoxious and poisoning music and the the speeding carousel. Now this.

The worm is gone! And Kelsey can barely breathe. But then it's quickly followed up by ACTUAL vomit. Oh lord. She was not coming back to this fucking park for at least a month. Maybe more. She scrambled backward, using part of her shirt to wipe her mouth. Taking a quick inventory to see if she was still feeling things, needing to itch. And seeing how everyone else was doing.

There's a particularly vicious yank of Alexander's arm, and then the man lets out a wavering and absolutely horrified scream. He. Stops. Pulling. "Can't," he whispers, moans, "can't pull. It's in my brain. It's in my FUCKING brain, and it has teeth, oh fuck oh fuck ohfuck." All while most of a worm dangles out of his nose, grey and wriggly.

Relief and disgust is definitely what August is feeling. It takes a while, getting that thing out of his throat, and boy, is he going to have a hell of a time explaining all this bruising. 'I tried to deep throat an eggplant' isn't going to fly.

He sags against the hellboar when he's done, dazed. "Well that was great," he says, voice hoarse. "Let's never do it again."

And now...now it's gotten a lot worse. "Oh no, you little motherfucker," he growls, slowly climbing to his feet, trembling. "No you do fucking not."

Carver's switching ears like someone paddling a Kayak, putting distinct, paced pauses between the sounds of 'SlhrlrrlrlprlprlrrlrlrshlorlrlprlrhrlrprSHLURP' that comes from the floor next to whichever ear he's got closest to it at the time.

The final few trickles of worms are expunged with a little reticence, Carver even going so far as to wiggle his head left and right to get the last few droplets out, exhaling deeply when all's said and done, sitting back on his hands, pulling himself up to a knee, and then standing in a roughly similar timing as the coalescing group of invertebrates that make a pretty good attempt at mimicking his appearance. Hands rummage around in his pockets, muttering something about "Earworm. Of course."

The contents of his pockets found, Carver's popping a cigarette into his mouth as he ever so casually begins to maneruver behind the crow, putting part of the bird's form between him and his doppelganger. "Not bad, mate, but you're missing something."

It's carefully tossed the rest of his pack.

I think that's my brain. Alexander doesn't say it. He just stares, gape-mouthed at the horrific thing that tore out of him and what it has in its teeth. He stares at it morphs and shifts and? Weirdly? This is okay. His nose is bleeding, sending streams of bright red down his face, but his mouth suddenly splits into a feral grin. "Fucking REALLY? Okay. Okay. I can kill myself twice in one week. Sure." There's a crackle around him, a sharp scent of ozone as he slowly rises to his feet. "Let's do this."

Yves... Yves is not a happy camper even at the best of times, and this? May possibly be the worst of times: kneeling on a terrible carousel wheezing for oxygen, while staring down at the writhing and coiled body of some netherworld worm that's crawled out of his body... His... His body? Or is this his mind? Where is his body? In a park in Grey Harbour. Where are they now? Yves... Looks around, eyes red and watery from the effort of expelling The Worm -- studying the duress on people's faces; August's attempt at vomiting, Alexander's horrified screaming, Byron's attempt at focusing, Carver's short lived relief, Kelsey's scrambling and actual vomit, Minerva's fight to remain composed...

And then, there are The Worms. Themselves.

-As- Themselves.

Yves turns, facing the snazzily dressed Worm-Shadow of Himself. No words. Only... A slow, steady move to stand up again - even out his breath - enter a defensive pose - see if these Worm-Shadows are... Gonna throw hands? Oh my.

Kelsey is starting to get to her feet, trying to collect herself and ignore that DAMN SONG. It's difficult. Especially when she starts hearing herself singing it and she is definitely not singing . She watches the worm shift and grow. This places, these works, THAT FUCKING SONG. Something snaps. Something that she has been so good about keeping in check since North Dakota. A feral sort of sound emits from her and she lunges at her worm-self! Not today worms!

Minerva is bloody and she really really hates what she sees when things turn for the worst. "Ah. Well...fuck it." she mutters as she pats her hat down on her head and lets her hands go slack for a moment as she stares down the wormyself that's been grown. "Fucking gross..." she murmurs.

Wonderful! Not only did that worm that Byron tear out of his ear grow and begin to take form, the form that it takes his own. Complete in that fancy suit and those shades. Perhaps, it's great that the worm creature is wearing ridiculously expensive sunglasses on his vile features. I mean, not that Byron thinks that the monster looks anything like him!

"This is a first." He murmurs to no one in particular. He's just glad that the insane itching, that uncomfortable feeling of something crawling inside of his head has finally stopped. The hand at his side clenches into a tight fist as he lowers his chin to get a better view of the worm version of himself from over the top edge of his sunglasses. It would be uncanny and awkward if the worm Byron did the same...

Good news for Carver! He's no longer on the carousel.

Bad news for Carver! It's because the wormy mass of teeth and flesh that slams into his chest sends him tumbling backwards after a few ragged chunks are torn away, flesh and shirt both lost, the man going arse-over-tit and off the side, disappearing over the edge, the coins that flew out of his pockets bouncing ineffectually off of the Worm!Carver's leg.

He's okay, though. You can tell by the sound of "BOLLOCKS!" that rings out over the music, his unseen pockets spilling out with various sundries to find something to use as gauze for the spread of crimson and dark ichor that's absolutely ruining his shirt.

If anything, the worm attacking her, starting to look more like her, enrages Kelsey further. There's only one thing on her mind right now. And that's killing this thing. Because if it doesn't die, she's going to die. So she lunges again. NO MERCY! But man all this is gonna hurt like a bitch soon enough, surely.

Alexander and his double dance around each other, and he makes a cry of disgust as that worm-like beast attempts to latch onto his chest. It's just a graze of needle sharp claws, but he swats it away with one hand, while lightning arcs from the other, splashing against the double's chest with no visible effect. Which doesn't mean he's not going to try again. He launches himself at it, trying to get his hands on it and well, turn it into a Fried Worm Dinner.

It's a showdown between sharply dressed individuals and unfortunately for Byron, he needs to get in close in order to work his magic. None of this ranged attack, less he can find a giant bird on this side of things to feast on these worms. Not that it matters very much. While Byron, himself, doesn't take the first steps in lunging at his wormy doppelganger, the most well-dressed of the worms lashes in his direction, attempting to take a bite at him with its toothy maw.

His desire to not have anything to do with the worm has him swerving out of the way, feeling the nip of that fanged mouth tear into his chest, biting through suit jacket and dress shirt alike. In the process, the worm's close proximity gives him this time to... well, shock the hell out of it with a mere touch. His clenched fist was ready for this very moment, coming alive with electricity. The thing exploded, grossy, all over him, forcing him to stumble back. Unfortunately, his suit is a casualty in all of this still.

With several of those monsters down, he turns his attention to the one that is nearest to him that's still standing. One that's beginning to look more and more like Carver.

Minerva hates Doppelgangers. She hates them more when they look like her. Not to mention the teeth. She lets WormyMinervy get closer and then...she lights up like a Sith. The splitting open does nothing for her attitude though and she hisses between clenched teeth as the noise gets WORSE. "For the love of all that is holy..." she grits out.

Yves side-steps and evades contact with his Worm-Self's snapping bite -- it gets only lavender scented air as its meal, and in return Yves' attempt to light a spark between them ends in a damp squib. Electricity crackles, and the blond lavender farming fellow side-steps. Defensive stance continues, and his expression...

Sorrowful. So sorrowful. Yves shakes his head, whispering; "We don't have to do this..." But if the crackling electricity implies anything, it's that they will.

Kelsey lands a glancing blow on the worm - hardly enough to do anything except leave herself wide open to feel those terrible teeth grazing against her other arm. Hissing and baring her own teeth. Is she going to try biting this thing?! No. Not yet. BUT her attacks are getting a little more reckless.

Minerva gives a frown when August goes down, but she stomps over and lashes out at the Wormy Doppelganger, "NO!" she shouts as a spray of electricity goes down her arm and into the worm. Then, SPLORT. Dead Wormy Doppelganger. Alexander's not having a good time either and she heads that way next. She had names, numbers, addresses. She could kill EVERYONE.

Carver? Carver's still out of sight. There's the sound of crumpled packaging being opened, the splat of WormCarver's attack hitting the edge of the carousel next to him only spurring him to work a little faster, packing loose gauze up against the ragged tears he's gained.

When he next pops up in to view, so does an absolute smorgasbord of nails, coins, paperclips, and what appears to be a small turtle figurine, which all rocket in the direction of his lookalike.

He looks a little pissed, to be honest. Probably because he had to take off his tie, wrapping it around his chest to hold the rapidly staining gauze in place.

Which actual Alexander would never, ever do. What Alexander DOES do is flail and stagger back as worm-almost-him takes bites out of his abdomen, leaving bleeding gouges. He drives an electric-infused fist at the thing, but doesn't do anything but make it twitch. He lays there for a moment, pain and shock running through him, then slowly rolls back to his feet, panting and clutching his stomach. "Fuck Freud all the way down," he mutters, and readies himself for the Worm-him's next lunge.

Kelsey dodges out of the way of the worm-copy and snarls practically. She's tougher than she looks. So of course the stupid fucking worm is too. She lunges again, "DIE YOU FUCKING WORM!" She screams. She really doesn't even comprehend that there are other people here with her still.

One would think that Byron would go full out on a worm that looked like Carver. Not that he hates the guy or anything, but there's always been some distrust there. It's strange that he makes quick work on his own doppelganger rather than the snide Brit. Perhaps it's because the thing isn't attacking /him/ exactly and in order to get a good hold on the worm, he'll need to lunge at hit himself. But it's a squirmy worm and it's not as easy as one would think.

It's like an odd dance that they are doing with the worm going after Carver and Byron going after the worm. "Just as annoying as the real thing." He's seeth between clenched teeth.

"Stop eating me!" It's maybe a wee bit panicky from Alexander as the worm-him tries again and again to feast on his tender belly meats, but he finally manages to connect with one of his shots and dart away from it - just in time for Minerva to murder the fuck out of the thing that looks like him. He throws her a quick, shaky grin. "Thanks for killing me!" It's entirely sincere. Then, he spins around to engage the nearest worm, which happens to be Kelsey's.

Minerva's on a worm spree. Killing spree? Does this count for that? Ugh! The black haired woman is hurriedly trying to off the doppelworms. Hoping that it will get them out of this squirmy hell. She blasts Alexander's double with a frown and then there's a chuckle as he thanks her, "I'm not doing it again." she points out. Then there's Kelsey's Worm. Being all finicky, "Maybe it wants to be be shocked to death." she calls as she rushes over.

So Yves' sorrow has not kept him from electrocuting his WormSelf until the creature's insides become its outsides... Jiggling, with their technicolour grotesqueness. The situation seems to, well, give him pause -- that jolt of defensiveness remains, but he seems unable to look away from all that offal stuff down below... Is that what his insides would look like? Ah no. Yves might have a touch of shell-shock.

It's almost like Carver's distracted, the things he's throwing only bouncing off ineffectively for a short while before he really attempts to redouble his efforts.

Byron gets a look. "Remember, Worm-face is the BAD one!" He calls. And possibly lies.

Kelsey hits it! But then...it hits her! Hard. She makes a strangled sort of noise. And then stumbles backwards and falls to the ground, passing out.

Lightning arcs from Alexander's hand. He was aiming for WormKelsey, really he was (and his last pose totally wasn't because he forgot who he'd targeted in the code), but he's NEW to this ranged thing, and the electricity just leaps over the worm's head and grounds itself briefly in Wormcarver's chest. He winces. "Fuck. Sorry!"

Minerva manages to rush in just as Kelsey goes down and there's a look to the worm as it shifts fully into the girl, "Oh no, take her face off!" she growls as she lightning punches the worm in the gut. "Or I'm going to rip if off of you!" she shouts at it as she tries to grab the worm by the face.

Okay, this isn't working. Small objects are just shclorping their way through the worm version of Carver. Some hits work, some hits don't. Which the REAL version of Carver doesn't look too pleased about.

But Wormcarver is also getting attacked on two other fronts. Wanna see Carver make a few leaps of logic and come to a conclusion? Done. As a small, jade-colored turtle flies back in to his hand, Byron's giving a quick shout of "HIT ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT, THORNE!" before he's ducking back down and scooting along the perimeter of the carousel.

When he pops back up, it's near the prone form of Kelsey.

"Get up, y'daft Bat! Identity theft is a crime."

Even when he gets his hand on that squirmy, slimy screeching version of Carver, Byron isn't able to hold onto it enough to fry it. Just the slipperiness of the worm makes it pull just out of his reach before he can fully apply himself. It doesn't help that the actual Brit, not the worm Brit is taunting at him now. Yeah, he takes it at taunting! "Do you think I'd ever hold back?"

Carver's shouting is enough to snap Kelsey back into the land of the mostly conscious. Just in time to see Minerva and Yves taking out her double. "It is a crime." She mutters to Carver. Wincing as she starts to try propping herself up. Bleeding from various spots, but as she hazily looks around - so are others. What a fucking Nightmare. She almost laughs at the irony. "Thanks..." Is said to no one inparticular, or all of them? Hard to tell. Just trying to get her wits about her.

Since the lightning seems to like Wormcarver, Alexander goes ahead and fires another burst towards that target with one hand, the other reaching up to wipe the blood flowing freely from his frankly grody nose. It's not enough to kill the thing, but it's enough to make him feel better. Sort of. He checks to make sure his own worm hadn't gnawed through to innards. No? We're good. Then looks at the others, bleary-eyed, as the crow starts to feast. "Everyone alive? Thorne? August?" He moves in the direction of the fallen man.

Minerva hands grasp WormKelsey's face and she has a very weird look on her own as she has to kill one that actually has a face. What was she talking to the Ghoul about just the other night? She dumps enough electricity into the things brain. Once it's smoking she lets it slide from her grasp and she steps back from it. She doesn't stop until she's bumped into something. "Everyone alright? Besides the...obvious." she asks. She wasn't okay, but she just needed to get back to the real world to decompress. Then the tiger opens the door, "Door. Go guys, go!" she states as she sees if anyone needs help out.

Only at the last moment does Yves turn, working alongside with Minerva to help make Wormkelsey's insides its outsides as well... But it falls - and the rest of the Wormselves have fallen - but Yves looks, well, he still looks startled. Blinking at Minerva, watching her with sorrowful concern like... What? He's bothered by all the blood and gore and reality of suffering?

Yves looks around again, wordless and... Unscratched, at least on the outside.

"At least they didn't get your social, pet." Carver mutters, pulling himself back on to the carousel with a couple of grunts until he's near enough to clap a hand on the woman's shoulder. He doesn't stop for long, mind you, passing her by to head August's way. The crow currently eating the remains of... him? is given an idle scratch on the back of the head as he passes. "I always thought I did, mate. Always thought so."

When August's reached... Carver helps him up, the Carver way. More of that gauze is pulled from his coat, slapped on to the guy's various wounds, and what appears to be the remaining contents of a water bottle from an inside pocket are poured over his face, making it a little obvious that Kelsey got off light.

Despite having on the most minor of injuries on himself, Byron looks like a mess. The front of his suit is soaked with slime guts, but by now, this isn't something that he's unused to. It's only then that he removes his sunglasses, his hands trembling from the exertion and all of that electricity that was coursing through that same hand. Folding the shades up, he tucks into his jacket pocket. Besides some of the carnage that they may have witnessed, no one looked dead that he could tell, but he takes steps forward to join up with others.

Running fingers through his damp hair, he hears Alexander addressing him, shooting the other man this look of acknowledgment if nothing else. He'd ask if anyone needed medical attention, but he didn't have the power to give it to him. "What a great day to take a walk in the park, eh?"