Lambert (
whattaprick) wrote in
lostcarnival2017-02-10 01:41 pm
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Entry tags:
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Who: Lambert and YOU
Where: The Carnival
When: During the downtime between Atlantis and their next world.
What: Any Witcher worth his salt knows the first thing you should do when you're in an unfamiliar environment: get the lay of the land.
1. not the nurse you're looking for
[ You might have come into the medical tent looking for supplies or something else. If you were looking for Zecora, prepare to be disappointed because there's a scarred man scowling heavily as he clatters around the place, not working on anything in particular.
He doesn't seem to register there's someone else around -- or is he just straight up ignoring you??? ]
2. by the woods
[ With the carnival no longer water-logged, Lambert's taken a walk of the perimeter, even stepped into the edge of the woods, but he hasn't tried to press any further, although he's stood and looked at it for some time.
There's no sense letting his skills get rusty, so he mostly spends the time-- night or day-- sparring invisible enemies, steel sword flashing as he weaves it through the air.
When he's not swinging a sword around, you'll find him sitting on the dirt, legs folded under him and eyes closed. ]
3. getting to know you?
[ Lambert doesn't normally care about getting to know people, but he also normally doesn't stay anywhere longer than a few months, either. And that's at Kaer Morhen, where he can always get blind drunk and fuck off into the woods and kill some drowners if he needs to let off some steam instead of dealing with the other Witcher.
If he's going to be here for a year and a day? He's going to at least need to know names.
So wherever you are, whatever you're up to, you might notice a newcomer watching you for a few moments before he speaks up. ]
So what do you do around here?
4. wildcard!
[ If we discussed a previous scenario or you just want to do something not covered here, go for it! I'll match whatever prose style you go with. ]
Where: The Carnival
When: During the downtime between Atlantis and their next world.
What: Any Witcher worth his salt knows the first thing you should do when you're in an unfamiliar environment: get the lay of the land.
1. not the nurse you're looking for
[ You might have come into the medical tent looking for supplies or something else. If you were looking for Zecora, prepare to be disappointed because there's a scarred man scowling heavily as he clatters around the place, not working on anything in particular.
He doesn't seem to register there's someone else around -- or is he just straight up ignoring you??? ]
2. by the woods
[ With the carnival no longer water-logged, Lambert's taken a walk of the perimeter, even stepped into the edge of the woods, but he hasn't tried to press any further, although he's stood and looked at it for some time.
There's no sense letting his skills get rusty, so he mostly spends the time-- night or day-- sparring invisible enemies, steel sword flashing as he weaves it through the air.
When he's not swinging a sword around, you'll find him sitting on the dirt, legs folded under him and eyes closed. ]
3. getting to know you?
[ Lambert doesn't normally care about getting to know people, but he also normally doesn't stay anywhere longer than a few months, either. And that's at Kaer Morhen, where he can always get blind drunk and fuck off into the woods and kill some drowners if he needs to let off some steam instead of dealing with the other Witcher.
If he's going to be here for a year and a day? He's going to at least need to know names.
So wherever you are, whatever you're up to, you might notice a newcomer watching you for a few moments before he speaks up. ]
So what do you do around here?
4. wildcard!
[ If we discussed a previous scenario or you just want to do something not covered here, go for it! I'll match whatever prose style you go with. ]
no subject
"Some very good friends of mine pointed the way out to me." Which is a very uninformative way of saying his tarot deck had a hand in it, especially since he isn't so inclined to bring them up easily. "What in the world is an ekimmara?"
no subject
"Hm. Some friends," he snorts, but the next question makes him smirk, even as he takes another drink. "An ekimmara's a kind of vampire. Ugly fuckers, but they're fast and vicious. Not hard to beat, as long as you know what you're doing."
And have the right equipment, which reminds him that his silver sword confiscated, and that makes his smile fade. "So did you plan on making a bargain to stay, or did you get tricked into it?"
no subject
There's more of a reaction to that, beyond what's so far been a fairly careful mask of disinterest, even in spite of the questions. It isn't even much, only a raise of his eyebrows, but it is there. That someone who tracks vampires just happened to wander into the carnival... That's interesting. He won't say so out loud, but it is.
"I planned on it," he says, shrugging and taking a second or two to drink, consider his next question. "And you? You don't seem the sort who would take well to being tricked."
no subject
"I don't." Childermass' response to his question is annoyingly vague, so he could leave it at that, but this isn't going to be a productive question and answer session if they stick to responses under five words, is it?
"Normally, I'd be trying to figure out how to stop something like this, not working for it. But since she could give me what I wanted, I made a deal." Simple as that. "What'd you ask for?"
no subject
So to what he asked for, he'll say, "The location of a vast but very much lost treasure trove left behind by a pirate king. You wouldn't know him, but he died a very rich man. Secretive, too, as no one's found where he kept all he stole since his death."
It's utter bullshit, but the problem with that is Childermass has one hell of a poker face. Even if there is a hint of amusement behind it, he still manages to sound entirely serious. Though, since he's hardly given a true answer to that, he'll at least keep from turning the same question back on Lambert.
"You'd normally be trying to stop this, you said?" He'll finish drink number two and pour a third, not feeling any sign of a buzz or being tipsy whatsoever yet. Seems the necklace works after all. Good to know. "And you track vampires. Does most of what you do involve dealing with the supernatural?"
In a more violent way than his deal with the Ringmaster, of course.
no subject
Instead, he pours himself another drink, knocking it back before he slouches back in his seat.
"Dealing with monsters," he affirms. The alcohol seems to have taken the edge off his manner, shoulders more relaxed as Witcher metabolism makes quick work of the stuff. He needs it: talking about being a Witcher in any capacity always pisses him off, so he might as well be drunk for it. "Vampires, drowners, specters, succubi ... and the rest of it." He waves a hand, dismissing it all.
"What were you before coming here?"
no subject
See? He can joke. It just happens to be dry and deadpan through and through. It is a ridiculous story, one he didn't expect Lambert to believe in the least, but he isn't about to change it (until he asks again, then it will definitely be a different, entirely fabricated reason).
What he was before the carnival, though, now that does take some consideration. How to put it? He's still reluctant to go around claiming to be a magician, so that's out, which leaves, quite simply, "I was in the service of a magician prior to the carnival, thankfully the sort without monsters being involved."
no subject
His answer makes his nose wrinkle, though. "Was that another magic contract too?" While he doesn't have anything in particular against mages, most are far too powerful and far too fond of meddling in politics for Lambert's taste. Though magic users come in all temperaments, and he waves a hand.
"I guess I owe you two answers, now." It's entirely arbitrary rules, of course, but it ups the entertainment factor of the evening a bit.
no subject
His laugh isn't much like Lambert's at all, more of a soft, amused huff of air before he finishes his third round of whiskey. Yeah, speaking of that particular magician? He's pouring out another one and he isn't being stingy this time.
"No, not at all. He saved those for anyone he considered a threat or wished to be rid of," is at least one answer he can give honestly. His former master's prickliness is hardly a secret to anyone at all. "And you can make up for asking twice by telling me about the magicians in your own world."
no subject
"Too good to get his magic dirty? Doesn't sound so different from back home." And he'll mirror the act of pouring himself a fresh drink, both pleased and a little annoyed that he's keeping pace -- between the two of them, the bottle is going fast, and he's only just starting to feel the warm buzz creeping up the nape of his neck. It's a big question, but luckily it's not the first time he's been asked this, so the answer's fresh off the top of his mind.
"There's all kinds of mages. The ones with the most talent and power spend years studying, shut up in an academy. Others end up becoming druids or priests -- they say their power comes from the gods, but I think that's bullshit." He pauses, taking a drink. "If they play their cards right, they can end up getting a position at the side of a king or a jarl as an advisor. Piss off the wrong person, though, and they can end up dead just like anyone else. It's a bad time to be a magic user, since the King of Redania's decided to hold a witch hunt for fun."
no subject
"Of course. What gentleman would ever get their hands dirty?" Or, as Lambert had put it, their magic.
Besides, with Childermass around, there had always been someone else to do that for him. No reason to add that part, though, so he'll go back to listening instead. Overall, it didn't seem too off for what he would have expected, save for that last part. At that part, he can't help but frown and lean forward again, resting his elbows on the table's top.
"But why would he do that?"
no subject
"I don't know his reasons. I don't hobknob with royalty, and knowing my luck he'd probably have me killed on sight too. I do know his father was assassinated when he was too young to rule, and one of his advisors was a sorceress. Rumor is, she might have arranged for it herself -- so she could take over." He shrugs, swirling his drink around his glass before taking a gulp.
"Your guess is as good as mine. Revenge? Fear? Inbreeding? Whatever made him hate magic doesn't matter. The witch hunters and the priests of the Sacred Flame make sure Novigrad burns with pyres all the same."
no subject
It's an idle comment, seeing as chances are Childermass will never step foot anywhere that Lambert is from, but a good plan nonetheless. There's no telling where the carnival might land itself one day. Anyway, he leans back away from the table again, taking his glass with him when he goes, although at this point he's taking his time with his drink.
There's no real rush now that he knows he won't be getting drunk, so...
"And a gentleman in England is not necessarily also a nobleman," he does feel the need to follow up on that particular assumption. He doubts he would have ever been able to address Norrell as 'my lord' without stopping to laugh. "In my own time, that is, although I do not think that would make a great deal of difference to you."
no subject
"Tell me more about England." It's a place, obviously, but the name alone doesn't tell him whether it's a tiny hamlet, a kingdom, or a city. He eyes his glass with some consideration, then reaches down to his belt, unhooking a flask and tipping some of the fluid inside into his glass. He doesn't offer Childermass any.
no subject
There's a lot more he could go on about, but he is trying to summarize, else they'd be stuck talking about the place all day. Not the worst fate, not at all, just possibly of little interest to the other man.
"And yourself? Where would you call home, Lambert?"
There. Back on track with the question total.
no subject
In any case, that's more of a loaded question than Childermass probably realizes. Lambert pauses to consider the question, sipping from his drink in the meantime, before he finally puts it down to speak.
"Don't really have a place to call one," he answers. Kaer Morhen doesn't count, he figures. And the village he grew up in ... he can't even remember its name, though he can remember the fury on his father's face. "Once you're on the Path, you're on it for life. No Witcher's ever died in his bed."
no subject
"Too mercenary for one place, is it?" He asks without really expecting an answer. Overall, even that isn't much of a surprise to Childermass, although the lack of at least a country or a kingdom is interesting. Was he just something outside of it all? Truly from nowhere at all? "Although you've lost me on what you mean by Path."
no subject
"It's just a fancy way to say working." He waves a hand vaguely, taking a gulp of his Witcher-spiked alcohol. Mm, that's the stuff. "I'm sure this comes as a surprise to you, but monsters aren't exactly lining up to throw themselves on my sword. I have to go to where they are, and then I have to find someone who's going to pay me for it."
no subject
no subject
Now how had Jamie put it ... ? "Think of it as glorified pest control. Aren't there any monsters in your world?"
no subject
And then he'll nod towards Lambert's glass.
"What was that you added? Seems odd you'd need to put anything more into whiskey."
no subject
At the question, though, he smirks. "White Gull -- Witcher brew. Don't get me wrong, this stuff is decent, but it adds that little ..." He wiggles his fingers. "...kick."
no subject
In particular due to prophecies being involved. Those especially don't care for anyone else's opinion. Magic aside, whether it exists or doesn't exist or is coming back and bringing monsters, he'll raise his eyebrows some at Lambert.
"And I would say that it is rude not to share, but I already suspect rudeness is something you enjoy." Like before when he asked whether Witchers ignore monsters they're not paid to kill, there isn't really any air of disapproval here, either. More like a fact he's decided to state out loud.
no subject
As he continues to prove when he slides the bottle across the table. "If you want to start seeing visions and puke up blood tomorrow, be my guest." It won't kill him, but he'll probably wish he was dead. He remembers sneaking out alcohol from Vesemir's stash as a kid, before the first set of mutations, and he'd more or less survived. Probably burned a permanent hole in his liver, but he survived.
"It's usually used for alchemy, but you look like you can hold your drink."
no subject
Less goes into his drink than he saw Lambert pour into his own, of course. He'd been told the necklace can only handle so much poison and, with it hidden away as it is, he can't exactly keep an eye on it for any dangerous color changes.
"Used for alchemy how, if I might ask?"
Sure, he's about to drink literal poison, but he's also still going to carry on with the conversation casually as he closes the bottle again and slides it back to Lambert. It's only after that that he'll drink the rest of his whiskey, White Gull and all.
itt: i use google to help me write vaguely science things
what is science we just don't know
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