lostcarnival | ⇨ THE SUMMERLANDS

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 138 - Day 152
Where: The Summerlands
What: The Ringmaster brings the carnival to the Summerlands immediately after being freed from Portland so that everyone can take a fucking nap. Her included.
Warnings: Individually marked! Most likely discussion of torture and trauma in here.

DAYS OF SUMMER↴

You made it! And things are back to normal... more or less. Upon waking, you will be greeted with a clear blue sky and gentle breeze – the carnival has found itself situated between a pair of mountain peaks, with great fields of flowers extending in the distance. In the other direction, you’ll see mountain-top cities and tall waterfalls accenting vast swaths of forest.

Some of you will already know this place. It’s the Summerlands. You game here once to rest in safety nearly a year ago, and now you’ve come to rest once again.

► WAKING UP: Shortly after the carnival arrives, the Ringmaster will send out a somewhat cryptic radio message - but her immediate location won't be clear. Whatever items you had on your person at the time the Severing was broken will still be on your person, including whatever clothing. All of the animals and pets of the carnival will have returned to the grounds as well, though they are currently free from their designated living spaces. Things in the carnival will appeared to have naturally aged a month, as if the carnival was been sitting here empty and waiting while everyone was in Portland. The lawn needs mowing.

► SUMMER CITY: After the Summer Fae become aware of everyone's presence, they will welcome you into their city. There are stairs that lead up the sides of the mountains, but thankfully there are also magical means of getting up there as well. The Summer Fae will be willing to help workers with the injured as needed, offering herbal remedies and healing magic to those that want it. You'll also be invited to join them for dinner, but they will not be particularly offended if they are turned down, for now.

► SUMMER PEOPLE: The fae here will mostly enjoy the company of any carnival members that offer it - it doesn't seem that much happens here besides day after day of peaceful meditation and relaxation. It is not uncommon to see Summer Fae spent days doing exactly the same thing, whether that be enjoying the weather, listening to music, or dancing - the day and night periods may be similar to earth, but when you don't need rest it can all blur together just the same. Some of the fae work on feats of agriculture or craftsmanship, and while there is no particularly need to work in this place, they take pride in the fact that they do.

► NEW ARRIVALS: Though the Ringmaster will not be offering much guidance for the first week or so, eventually the carnival will begin running for a few small performance sessions, off and on, as a thank you to their fae hosts. The carnival will also be open to receiving new arrivals during that period, and so there will likely be some newbies to train and get orientated as well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lucky for Foster, she hasn't actually been at the medical tent, seeing as there's not much that a doctor can do for soul damage. Not much for anyone to do, really; the only course of action Peridot was given to follow was to just get lots of rest, and to try and take things easy until her soul healed itself in time.

So, she's been holed up in her trailer. Sleeping, actually, much to her chagrin. She's never been much of a fan of the habit but the soul damage is foreign and pervasive enough to convince her to give it a shot. Most of the time she keeps to her bunk, but in the course of at least one of his visits, Foster will get lucky and catch her loafing around outside on top of the trailer, laying out in the warm sun.

She's either asleep or close to it, face tucked under one arm, but it shouldn't be hard to get her attention if Foster dares to try it.

Does he dare?

Good fucking question.

His search for Peridot has been fuelled by a restless kind of anxiety, but now that he's found her, the weak mixture of apprehension and dread is replaced by.... honestly, it's just a lot of nothing. This is, ostensibly, one of those times he's supposed to feel something, and that something is supposed to motivate him to do what he originally intended to do, but.

But.

If he feels anything, it's a desire not to do this.

He just wants to end this, and avoiding her would technically count in the short term. Long term? There isn't one. Well, there's one. One he's constantly presented with, at every turn, it solves every literal problem, and he's got multiple people denying him permission to do it. But it's still true. If he died, he wouldn't have to deal with this. He wouldn't have to deal with anything.

Anyway, he doesn't even know how to wake her up.

The blow to his soul was... impermanent, but the ice spear's wound is a lot less so. His torso is a lot smaller than it was as a bear, so now his entire side is a deep, frequently bleeding mess. He can probably pick rocks up if he wants, but he wouldn't be able to throw them, and he definitely can't climb.

Which leaves.... yelling.

"Peridot!!"

All things considered, yelling is probably the more polite way to go about this rather than rock throwing or poking. Even still, NOT SUPER POLITE. She startles and yelps, eyes shooting open at the sound of her name being called, her tail sticking straight up in the air.

"What-- who--" she looks around frantically until her eyes land on Foster, and she plops back down with a unimpressed sounding "oh", eyes narrowing critically. Somebody's still not happy about his behavior at the ritual.

"What do you want?" the gem sniffs, frowning down at Foster in a rather haughty manner.

Normally, Foster would have had some kind of opinion about Peridot's reaction, but this time, he doesn't really care. His expression is... totally flat. Maybe a little dour. Now that he's here, the weird tightening knot in his chest almost--lets go?

Almost.

"Amethyst is gone." He has no tactful way to introduce this statement. He has no desire to try and find one.

Peridot had had no immediate insight whatsoever as to what Foster was doing here to start with, but judging by the surprise that flicks across her face, she certainly hadn't been expecting this.

But shock passes quickly, expression settling into something more neutral, more difficult to read. She's trying to parse this statement. Does he expect her to have some kind of insight on the situation? An explanation of Amethyst's motivations?

Maybe it's just because she's still hurting too much from her friend's departure, but she doesn't feel particularly inclined to give him anything of the sort.

"Yeah. She is," Peridot sighs unhappily. She decides she isn't obligated to say anything when Foster hasn't even asked her a proper question yet.

"That's probably my fault," he supplies, maybe a little too easily. He's a practised master at delivering self incriminating admissions in a conversational tone--it's what he feels isn't that novel a concept that he gets worked up over.

"So if you want to blame me, feel free. She'll probably come back once I'm gone."

Is this an apology or an exorcism of personal demons?

The answer is yes.

"Uhhhh..."

It's weird, Peridot reflects, that she's never really interacted with the actual Foster before now. To her, the Portland version was the base form. But now everyone is back to normal and... If this is the real Foster... Is he always this difficult, or is he, like many of the other carnival members, just in a particularly ill-tempered mood after the return? She'd gotten glimpses of this during his near betrayal at the ritual site, but the rather stark lack of context for his behavior is catching her a bit flat footed.

The gem's tail swishes uneasily. If there's one thing she does know... "Trust me, you're not the only reason that she left," Peridot explains wearily. She's certainly not going to deny that Foster is at least part of the equation of Amethyst's departure, but he's far from the first or only factor involved. "Portland isn't even the only reason that she left."

She specifically did not tell him it had nothing to do with him, and Foster's reply is a low, bitter laugh.

Does it--no, it doesn't hurt more. He doesn't feel it in his chest, it doesn't give him that headache right behind his eyes.

But it bothers him incrementally more, somehow.

Instead of reassuring him that he's not the real problem, she's basically told him that it's not enough That he's not enough, and that....

"Did you not want my apology for the ritual, either?" he asks, his tone deceptively clipped.

⇨ THE SUMMERLANDS

C, AT LAST

TW: suicidal ideation

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Who has two thumbs and got no notif! Whoops

AH WHOOPS!!

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/shakes the hiatus dust off my shoulders

/replaces it with WELCOME BACK confetti!