lostcarnival | [OPEN] how long is forever?

Entry tags:

[OPEN] how long is forever?

WHO: Childermass & anyone.
WHAT: Childermass returns from his unfortunate vacation in the Matrix.
WHERE: The carnival, Trailer #19, the cookhouse.
WHEN: End of D32, on into D33.
WARNINGS: Mentions of torture, will update if anything else comes up.

[ D32, by the tree phones; closed to the first person to find him ]

Why he'd been released after giving so little information, Childermass can't be sure.

He wondered if they had picked up anyone else, someone more likely to talk about the carnival than he was. Perhaps that had made it less useful to keep at him, when someone else was more chatty, although if that were the case, they sure didn't mind trying to keep on "convincing" him. After all that effort, just to have him wake up back in the zoo, intact again, for the most part (the memory of broken fingers still has him rubbing his knuckles, often and uncomfortably). Part of him — the sensible, forever cautious part — wanted to stay and find out, to know, but the rest of him was exhausted. Caution be damned, he needed to get out, so that was exactly what he did.

Funny how only a few days ago he was telling Mr. Strange how bizarre it was to already consider the carnival home, but stumbling to the nearest phone and finding himself back among the trees, with that mad circus up ahead, is a relief. Back at last, after nearly five days of missing, he'll let out a sigh and lean heavily against the same tree the phone is hooked up to.

Now here's a man who looks worse for wear, but at least he's still standing, right?

[Late D32-D33; open to all]

Afterwards, whatever it is that comes afterwards, Childermass will be wisely leaving his supervisor a note about taking a day off to rest — if that's no problem, of course — and then holing up in his trailer to, for the most part, sleep. It won't be very restful, though, so more often than not he'll be found up with tea, trying and failing to write for any real length of time, or spending an awful lot of time staring at ceiling from where he should, but isn't, sleeping.

Basically, trying to avoid everyone, but he'll probably answer the door if someone shows up, assuming they're polite about it at all. Considering the door isn't actually locked, the odds on that might be against him.

Or, failing all attempts to get some actual rest, on the day after his return, one might find him having, by some miracle, made his way to the cookhouse. If only for some coffee and to — again — get absolutely nowhere with writing in one of his various memo books.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Strange saw the note about Childermass taking a day off to rest. So naturally, he's going to just leave his duties as well to go bother Childermass. First he attempts to just move in there via mirror...but no, that's not working. Strange has a sneaking suspicion that Childermass removed the mirror entirely. Well fine then, he'll just walk there instead.

Once he reaches the door, Strange starts to mutter some sort of spell of unlocking...but oh. The door's unlocked. There's a pause and then, in a bundle of maniac energy, Strange just pushes open the door and just frowns in Childermass's direction. There goes the quiet.

"Where were you?" Strange exclaims, in a tone partly worried but mostly annoyed. Glaring, he points an accusatory finger in Childermass's direction...and hey, Strange has claws now. Small claws, only about an inch long, but claws all the same. "I've been looking all over for you!"

His suspicion would be correct about the mirror, though it isn't gone entirely from the trailer. It's only been taken down, out of the bathroom, and set face down on the table. There's something heavy on top of it, though what it is, even Childermass couldn't say for sure. Some random object the Doctor had stored about, most like.

Mirror business aside, when Strange barges in the old-fashioned way, he'll find Childermass actually having been doing what he'd originally intended to do: resting. Apparently that won't be happening now, since now there's a madman in the room. All it takes is the door opening to get him back up, so he's already grimacing and pushing himself back up to sit so he can properly give Strange one of his more unfriendly stares.

He considers getting up. He considers it for all of two seconds before rubbing the bridge of his nose — he can already feel a headache forming, he swears — and sighing.

"Not tonight, Mr. Strange. Ask me again tomorrow."

Oh, he notices the claws, but to ask about them now would only be inviting him to stay longer.

It's cute how Childermass thinks that'll be enough to get Strange to leave. He simply rolls his eyes as he walks over towards Childermass's bed, sitting down directly besides it. It's when Strange is closer to Childermass that he notices how awful the man looks. Whatever he was doing in the Matrix, it certainly took a lot out of him.

He's still aggravated as he talks, but his tone is softened slightly. "Tomorrow you shall simply try your hardest to avoid me. So no, I'm afraid it must be tonight."

...but the man is tired. It's odd, seeing Childermass this out of it. He's tired, aggravated, and not moving. Strange can't help but think back to when Childermass was shot—this is like that, though somehow different.

"But first, is there anything I can do for you?"

They aren't friends yet. But dammit, Childermass obviously isn't in top form and if Strange can do something, then he's going to do so.

At least a bullet is honest. It had actually happened, had stuck, rather than become some nightmarish memory with barely any mark to show for it. That bothers him the most. He can still remember it all, he swears he can still feel the pain, but did those past five days really happen? If they had, why fix it at all? But he can't find the will to dwell on that question, all the why this, why that, and so he'll just focus on Strange instead.

And he isn't the only one comparing this to when he'd been shot. It's eerie and he's already half-expecting to be told off for getting himself abducted, which means when Strange asks if there's 'anything he can do for him', Childermass actually looks puzzled, because that isn't a question he's used to hearing, not unless he's the one saying it.

"What?" No, really, this is never how this conversation goes, but he'll gather his wits again in another second or two to add, "Ah, no. No, there isn't."

If Childermass is so taken aback by concern, that simply means that Strange must do it often. It's amusing seeing the other man a bit uncomfortable like that. Is there such a thing as petty goodwill, because that's the idea that Strange is floating right now.

"Good," Strange simply remarks, as he returns to looking over Childermass. Yeah, he doesn't believe that in the slightest. The man looks horrible, there certainly must be something Strange can do. What it is, he has no idea. After all, he knows the bare minimum about healing magic. In the peninsula, most of his efforts were taken up by putting out literal and metaphorical fires or making things easier for the men.

"That means I can properly ask you where the hell you've been. I haven't been able to find you, whether by magical or mundane means." Couldn't find Childermass when creeping via magic, couldn't find Childermass when hoofing it around the Matrix.

If Strange wanted to do something for him, he would go and let him rest, but that idea was dismissed before he even asked. For anything else, it seems too outlandish to ask.

"And here I thought you weren't going to spy on me," he says dryly, as even his unexpected stay in the Matrix couldn't quite strip him of his sarcasm. Though that he looked at all is almost heart-warming, even if he is glad he never found him. The last thing he needed was to lure anyone else to the agents.

Well, if Strange isn't leaving, he may as well adjust how he's propping himself up to something a little more comfortable before answering.

"I wouldn't be able to tell you," he admits. "I never saw where I was taken. I suppose wherever it was, they might have had it warded. Either that or it doesn't count enough as anywhere to be searched."

Because where does the Matrix exist? Is it a part of Earth? Heaven? Hell? Faerie? How do you search somewhere like that?

"Don't vanish for a few days and I won't have reason to spy on you," said as if that's completely obvious. It's Strange's turn to give Childermass a pointed sort of 'what did you think was going to happen' look.

As Childermass props himself up, Strange walks over to the dining area. Grabbing a chair, he pushes whatever was on it onto the floor (hopefully nothing's fragile) and moves the chair over towards Childermass's bed. Sitting down, he starts to listen.

And wait, taken? The confusion is apparent as Strange asks, "Taken? By whom?"

Someone is going to be upset when it's his turn to deal with Childermass's habit of vanishing for days at a time, in that case, though hopefully that next time will be under his own power. Pointless to bring it up, so he won't. It's not like he's planning on it anytime soon now, not after this mess.

"Remember the agents you mentioned before?" The ones the Nightrider's crew were meant to keep an eye out for, among other things. "After we parted ways at the zoo. I remained after closing hours to take a better look around."

Why, he keeps to himself, but it mostly had to do with getting to watch tigers without shrieking children around. Kind of a dumb reason.

"They showed up not long after and saw right through my spell."

Upset and resigned that he's just going to have to routinely creep on Childermass, won't he.

And oh. Are you ready for a bit of regret because wow does Strange have a bit of regret. Logically, he knows that there wasn't really anything he could do to stop Childermass from getting kidnapped, short of tailing him the entire time (something that he knows he'd fail at sooner or later.) But the fact that he was abducted by an agent in the first place is annoying Strange more than he wants to admit. If he just paid more attention to them, if he found out more information about the agents, if he got in contact with the resistance, so on and so forth. The what-ifs don't change what happened, but they continue to lay at the back of his skull.

The most worrying part of all is that they saw through his spell. Strange's frown deepens as he leans back in the chair. "There's no denying that you have a better grasp on the Matrix than I do." And enjoy that compliment because it's the only one you're getting. "The fact that they could see you is...troublesome. What did they want from you in the first place?"

Norrell certainly never bothered, but, then, he and Childermass had the same understanding that he would — eventually — turn up again, usually exactly when he needed to. He supposes this is different, though. This time there'd been a good chance he wouldn't have returned at all.

"More that I knew someone with a better grasp of it." Sorry, he can't enjoy the compliment. He can't really enjoy anything right now. He moves to sit up properly at this point, since it feels ridiculous to be stuck half-laying down in bed like this, even if doing so gets a grimace out of him, a wince of pain.

"They wanted to know where I'd come from, about the carnival. It was obvious to them that we weren't meant to be there."

When Childermass sits up, Strange can't help but frown. Despite the fact that he's obviously trying his hardest not to show it, the man's in pain. Whatever they did to him in there obviously hurt.

"In that case, we should talk to the Ringmaster about leaving this place. They're obviously fine with using such base methods to get information--I'm sure she'll prioritize our safety over some silly performance."

He looks over at Childermass again and honestly, this is a bit ridiculous. 'Oh, I'm Childermass, I don't need anything,' come on man, don't be so stupid.

"And look, are you sure there's nothing I can do? My magic isn't much use against pain but I'm certain I can conjure up something of use. Perhaps a spell to put you to sleep or something like that."

Naturally, Strange defaults to magic over something actually useful like 'get you a glass of water'.

He's going to be stubborn about this, damn it, just let him be. The fact that he's defaulting to magic-related ideas to try and help is only going to earn him a look of utter disbelief. For all he knows, a spell to put him to sleep might go horribly wrong, so no thank you.

"Yes," Childermass says that a little too harshly and he doesn't even feel bad for it. "I am sure."

That said...

"Miss Nanami mentioned a few others are still missing. I doubt we'd leave without them, even if there is a threat."

Magic solves everything! And if it creates a problem while solving it, then it can solve the problem as well. Strange simply rolls his eyes a bit at Childermass's harsh tone. Fine! His loss.

But back to the topic at hand.

"You look horrible," Strange bluntly responds, looking over Childermass. "Obviously there is a threat of some sort." Because this is Childermass they're talking about! He's capable!

That's the kind of thinking that gets the whole carnival cursed to sleep for a month or something equally awful. Or, more to the point, Childermass has already had to deal with abrupt and unwanted bouts of unconsciousness thanks to the agents. He's not about to face the same thing here.

Which might be understandable, if he would only say as much, but of course he won't.

"I could say the same for you," he shoots back, which is uncalled for, really. Even he realizes it (though if it's probably true), so he'll pause and look down, absently rubbing his knuckles as he tries to collect himself. Let's just take a deep breath and try again, shall we?

"I'll speak with the Nightrider tomorrow."

There. That's a better answer.

"It'll be up to her to decide if there's a threat, regardless of how we feel about it."

When Strange inevitably causes a player plot a few months down the line, Childermass will be the first in line to say I told you so.

He can't help but frown as Childermass points out how awful he looks. Because...well yes, he does, he looks really terrible, madness isn't good for things like 'brushing your hair', but the point is, he fully expects himself to look terrible! Childermass is different.

Still, his answer is good enough for Strange, especially because he plans on speaking with the Nightrider if Childermass doesn't.

"Good," Strange states. And then, because he feels he must give a little bit of an explanation, "There are women and children in the carnival. Since we know these Agents are dangerous enough to stoop to kidnapping, I don't want to see them hurt."

He won't even have to say the words. He has an entire expression dedicated to I told you so and we all know it.

"I rather think most of the women here are as dangerous as the Agents," he's going to point that out, because he's pretty sure it's true. The children, however, are another matter. "Not that I disagree. It would be better to limit access to that place if they're keeping an eye out for us now."

But now that he's agreed to some acceptable outcome of this, the look he gives Strange next is somewhat expectant.

"Is that all?"

Can he rest in peace now?

There's a pause, like Strange is trying to come up with something else for the express purpose of bugging Childermass. Did he forget anything? He must have forgot something, and yet he can't think of what it was.

"You've blocked your mirror. The Doctor must have done that—I'll fix it on my way out."

Even when Childermass is under the weather, that is no excuse for Strange not to be a shit. He knows Childermass did that himself. But as long as he's recuperating, ha ha, you're not gonna want to get out of bed, Strange is just going to continue to be an awful show-off who uses magic for the sake of using magic. He gestures towards the table where he saw the face-down mirror but manages to surprise himself when his claws come into eyesight.

Oh yes. That's something new.

"I grew claws, by the way," said as if it's a perfectly normal thing that happens to people. "I tried filing them down but they simply grew back overnight."

"I had noticed." The claws. Not the filing down bit, but the claws were quite apparent. "I wasn't aware they could grow back that quickly, however."

That may prove annoying someday. He can't say he has the energy to worry about it on his own part, however. And Childermass knows all too well that Strange is being a shit about the mirror. He took that down and it's bloody well obvious, but if the man wants to play that game, he can. Strange is right about him not wanting to get up — or even move at all, actually.

But he is going to make some weak attempt to keep the mirror down as it is, adding, "And I would leave that there, were I you. He isn't quite done working with it yet."

May as well use the same scapegoat, even if they both know the Doctor had nothing to do with any of this.

Edited 2016-12-21 03:28 (UTC)

"Oh, I'll put it right back where I found it--after I fix your mirror, of course."

He is king of being a shit, thank you very much. With a self-satisfied smile on his face, Strange begins gingerly removing whatever's on top of the mirror, setting it down on a nearby chair. To his credit, he's trying his hardest not to break the miscellaneous items. Strange continues talking as he moves things.

"I imaging the reason they grew back so fast is because time is rather odd in Faerie. You know the stories, children abducted who've spent two hundred years in here but they think they've only been gone two weeks. And apparently when we finish our contract, we'll be deposited right back to when we made the contract in the first place. My hypothesis is that the changes have something to do with that."

"I am afraid you have misunderstood me, Mr. Strange, but the mirror is what he was working on," Childermass counters without so much as a twitch of a smile nor a frown nor any other emotion that might give away he's making it up. Oh, it's probably still apparent in this particular situation, but that won't stop him from trying.

Like, seriously, man, take a hint here. Is he going to have to discard the mirror altogether or is the trailer doomed to madmen showing up in the middle of showers no matter what? He doesn't even want to think about it. He's already tired, considering every increasingly awful possibility only makes it worse.

But he's still making no move to actually stop Strange.

Pointless effort and all.

"I do know those stories. They're why I made a point in asking about that before signing anything," says Childermass, the one guy who actually thinks contracts through before throwing away a year and a day, apparently. "I've no doubt they're due to time spent in Faerie, but it's a little difficult to imagine enough time passed for claws to grow back over a single night."

It's another round of Childermass's "favorite" game, is Strange doing this because he's mad and doesn't know any better or because he's a deliberate annoyance? The answer this time is deliberate annoyance.

"I hate to point out the obvious, but if he's working on the mirror, he'll have a much easier time if he's able to see his reflection." Finally, he's cleared all the bricabrac off the top of the mirror and is attempting to just prop it back up against the wall. He's not going to rehang it or anything, gotta make life a bit easier for Childermass when he inevitably puts the mirror facedown on the table again.

Thinking through contracts? Yeah, that's cute, let's throw caution to the wind and #yolo, time to bring Arabella back.

"Perhaps they're due to whatever fine print is on the contracts? A contract of a year and a day and possible physical changes depending on your time here. I confess, I don't really know, I didn't skim the contract all that carefully."

No one is surprised to hear that.

"Ah. Of course. I suppose you are right in that."

Yep, there it goes, the mirror is back up and he's stifling the urge to sigh.

He is so not looking forward to the day he has to tell him Arabella was never dead, but today is not that day and if he's going to scold Strange on contract-related issues, at least this one is vastly different from throwing one away on a useless venture.

"Considering what you were asking for, one would think you'd take a little more caution than that." But no, Childermass isn't surprised at all. "I saw nothing referring to changes. I believe another theory on the matter is they're a reaction to so much fairy magic being concentrated in one place. It must take quite a bit to move around the way it does."

"The end reward is worth whatever I go through," Strange mutters, more to himself than to Childermass. Because really, that's true. No matter what sort of nonsense or confusion he goes through in this world, the end result is that he will bring Arabella back and they will be together again.

It's only a year and a day, after all.

Strange stops fiddling with the mirror for a bit as he listens to Childermass's theory. That...does make sense. There's so much magic that it simply leeches out into them. "If it takes so much magic to move this place, one wonders why it doesn't stay put. Of course," said with a shrug, "it would be an awful carnival if it didn't travel."

A mutter to which Childermass says nothing.

He doubts the silence will have even be noticed, with Strange's peculiar state of mind, and how he'll break it again almost immediately once there's something else to talk about.

"Sounds like you answered the question yourself. I'm sure the Ringmaster would get bored if it were only in one place, on one world, all of the time."

Thankfully, the silence isn't noticed. Strange's mind is simultaneously everywhere and here, he pays no attention to Childermass not really saying anything because he's thinking of something else.

"She must have an astonishing amount of power. To move the carnival as well as grant our contracts?" Strange shook his head slightly, still marveling and still thinking about just what sort of a faerie the Ringmaster actually was and what her limits (if she had any to begin with) were.

He really needed to take better notes.

late D32

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