#sinnersevent006

Zed lounged behind the fortune teller’s table, one arm draped over the back of his chair, the other lazily swirling a deck of tarot cards between his fingers. The dim glow of the booth’s decorative lanterns cast just the right amount of mystery—totally unearned, of course, but he did have a flair for the dramatic.

As someone approached, he leaned forward, smirk firmly in place.

"Ah, welcome, weary traveler," he intoned, voice rich with mock mysticism. "You stand before the great and all-knowing Seer of Staten Island—who, for the low, low price of your dignity and maybe a drink later, will unveil the secrets of your destiny."

He plucked a single card from the deck, flipping it over without looking.

"Let’s see… oof." A pause. His brows lifted in feigned concern. "Wow. That’s unfortunate. But, hey, look on the bright side—at least it’s not the ‘your love life is as dead as Blockbuster’ card. That one’s a real heartbreaker."

He leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, what’ll it be? Love? Fortune? A totally made-up prediction that’ll keep you up at night? Dealer’s choice."

Ladies and gentlemen, lovers and dreamers, the moment has arrived! Once again, the season of love is upon us, and this year, you are invited to an evening like no other; a night overflowing with romance, excitement, and pure joy for all! The gates to the 2025 Cupid Carnival are about to swing open, welcoming you into a world of twinkling lights, dreamy pastel hues, and heart-racing thrills. Whether you're here with a lover, a friend, or simply embracing the magic on your own, prepare for an unforgettable journey through love, laughter, and wonder.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer.”

Florian’s voice carried a teasing lilt as he smirked, stepping back after colliding—quite literally—into Nero. The unexpected encounter sent a small jolt through him, though he recovered quickly, straightening his posture with a casual ease.

Nero was hard to describe. He wasn’t just a presence; he was a force. He carried himself with an air of quiet authority, a mix of something untamed and utterly intoxicating. The scent of spice and danger clung to him like an invisible signature—warm, heady, and undeniably alluring. It was the kind of scent that lingered even after he was gone, much like the impression he left on people.

And yet, despite everything about Nero that screamed stay away, Florian found himself doing the exact opposite. He couldn’t seem to look anywhere else.

“You should really watch where you’re going,” he added with a playful smirk, tilting his head. “Then again, maybe I should start charging for these little run-ins. You do seem to have a habit of appearing when I least expect it.”

His tone was light, but his gaze lingered a fraction too long, betraying his curiosity—and maybe something more.

The Cupid’s Archery Challenge was all flashing neon hearts and cheaply painted bows, the air thick with the scent of kettle corn and desperation. Bianca should’ve been paying attention—should’ve been watching the targets, the contestants, the ridiculous pageantry of it all—but her gaze was locked onto the dim glow of her phone screen.

The image stared back at her, frozen in time. Her husband—late husband—grinning at her from across a candlelit table, a glass of wine raised in a mock toast. Their last Valentine’s Day together. A lifetime ago.

Her jaw tensed, the moment slipping through her fingers before she killed the screen with a quick tap. By the time she looked up, the carefully curated mask was back in place, lips pulling into something that resembled a smile.

"Care to shoot your shot?" she said, voice dry as she turned to the newcomer. A pause, then a smirk—this one just a touch more real. "Maybe Cupid’s arrow will find your true love." A beat. A slow, knowing tilt of her head.

"—Or a lover for the night."

location: the ferris wheel ruins

Logic and reason are banned from Stella's brain as she watches the ferris wheel topple with wide, horror-filled eyes for just a moment, before kicking into gear. She's not a first responder, but countless hours of trauma response training have taught her the fundamentals of staying calm in crisis. Plus, her moral compass would never forgive herself if she didn't do whatever she could to help.

The smoke is already thick, stinging her eyes as she wades through the chaos and debris, pushing bodies towards cleaner air and safety. The deeper she goes, the harder it is to see. "Hello?" She calls out to anyone nearby. "Is anyone trapped?" She hears a yelp to her left and follows it immediately. A booth half crushed now up in flames, serving as an innocent civilian's coffin. "Grab my hand!" Stella yells over the climbing roar of flame, yanking as hard as she can when the other has found purchase. It's a messy job, but they're out. "Go," she orders, turning her back with the intention of daring to venture further in, the smoke so oppressive she has to drag her sweater up to cover her airways.

Before she has a chance to place her next step, there's a crack behind her. The booth. It's scaffolding now bare from flame, wobbling from the stress. Stella can't move fast enough before the remainder of its skeleton buckles and falls, knocking her down and pinning her against the concrete. "Shit!" She shrieks, instinctively attempting to wriggle free. A white-hot pain erupts from her leg sending a bolt of nausea through her. She can't look at the damage. If she does that, she'll panic. If she panics, she might die.

location: the carnival bar

Dylan wades through a sea of bodies, tinted pink by the costume heart sunglasses that had begun the evening as an ironic prop, but were now being used to hide the glaze behind his eyes. He's already spent a good portion of his night at the bar already, but doesn't baulk at the idea of returning to continue what is fast becoming a bender. He just hopes another bartender has taken over the shift by now.

He spots the structure in the distance first, and then with further scrutiny finds the brunette tresses of Harley, tucked in the corner alone. He wastes no time closing the distance and announces his presence by dropping into the chair beside her. "You wanna talk or do you wanna take a shot?"

— 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟎𝟎𝟔 : 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 ♡

DATE: Lily Qian ( @lionhcartt )

— 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟎𝟎𝟔 : 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋 ♡

DATE: Theodore Jameson ( @hedcniist )