⇨ THE CELEBRATION

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone, especially YOU.
When: Day 60 - Day 65
Where: The Celebration
What: The carnival workers are invited to spend the week within the realm of the Celebration, the grounds of a party that has been going on for centuries. Accommodations are luxurious, but those with keen instincts might notice something off about this whole arrangement... (Questions can go to the original setting post!)
Warnings: Booze, drugs, sex, and everything in between.

THE CELEBRATION↴ If you observe that the layout of the Celebration grounds seem inconsistent, then you would be correct. In reality, what lies at the end of each corridor depends largely on what the guests of the Celebration want at the time - if a few people find themselves craving a drink, a bar may appear. If a group finds themselves wanting to dance, a club will open up. This goes on at all hours of the night, and given how many dedicated partiers fill the building, the services are well used. It isn't instantaneous, and the Host has to consciously decide to provide that service, but the changes are fast none-the-less. ► ROOMS: Each trailer pair will be assigned a room to themselves - whether or not it has two double beds or a single king sized bed seems essentially random. Hopefully you aren't too sensitive about keeping that space to yourself. The curtains at the far side of the room don't actually lead outside, but instead to a walk-in closet filled with the Host's best guesses at the type of clothing you might like. They may not hit the nail on the head, but at the very least all the clothing will be in your size. The styles could be just about anything, from any universe, but they do tend to average out to clothing that is Earth-ish. Either that, or clothing that looks like they are meant for elves from a high fantasy novel to wear. ► SHOPPING: If none of your pre-picked outfits tickle your fancy, plenty of boutiques and clothing shops can also be found around the grounds - whatever you're thinking of, you'll probably be able to find a shop appropriate for it eventually. Though, maybe it doesn't really count as shopping if you don't have to pay for any of the things you take back to your room with you? Unfortunately, from the sounds of it, you won't be allowed to drag all of your haul back to the carnival with you, so you better enjoy it while you can. ► DINING: There is no daily schedule to follow, after you arrive. You are free to attend the dining room whenever you wish, and will be seated at large round tables with whoever else may be around at the time, and can either order from the menu or most dishes you may think of off the top of your head. If you don't like the fine dining experience, there are also a selection of smaller cafes and eateries that open and close at varying times of day - and, of course, you can always call for room service. ► ENTERTAINMENT: There is plenty of live music around the grounds (not that you can ever seem to remember who the performers were afterwards) whether it comes to harp music while you eat or a full set of DJs in the club you found. If you are inclined to look for them, you may also find some cozy lounges with big screen TVs, and access to a multi-universal quantity of films. What's there or isn't there is unpredictable, but if you come from a standard variety of Earth you probably recognize some of them. ► SUBSTANCES: You don't have to be coy about it - just ask one of your servers, and you'll be able to get whatever kind of vices you might be craving. Drugs, alcohol, ice cream... it's all good. If this sounds like a nightmare for potential addicts, you would be correct. It's not uncommon to see people clearly over-indulging in certain locations, though guests are usually escorted back to their rooms if they take ill - only to see them back at it again the next day. ► SPA DAY: If you'd like to take a swim, pools of various aesthetics are easy to find. So are hot tubs, and saunas, and Host servants who are willing to give you a massage or manicure. If the party crowd isn't your scene, there are plenty of more low-key opportunities to indulge. ► GREENSPACE: There is one park area on the grounds, which appears to be constructed on the rooftops of other parts of the complex. While there are trees and greenery, there is no real sky that you can see - only the illusion of one. It may start to occur to you over time that no window or rooftop actually leads to any kind of outdoors. The Celebration really is there only thing here. These are really just examples, and you can get creative with what kind of services you find offered while here, when it comes to generally mundane comforts. It really feels like the Host wants to win you over, as if you staying just a little longer has some sort of intrinsic appeal.

Comments

[atouts]

days 60-61

Let's be honest here, the first two days at the Celebration are a complete nightmare for Childermass. While he is fully capable of being social, confronted with a party of this scale, sprawling and crowded, is going to put him in a terrible mood. If that weren't enough, how utterly steeped in magic the place is only working to give him one hell of a headache. The carnival he could at least get used to, but here? He's not so sure, nor is he too welcoming of any offers of help for it from the faceless servants that keep popping up, uncalled for.

More than once he can be caught waving one irritably away and muttering, "How do they keep finding me...?"

Because, yes, half of the time spotting him at all might as well be a game. He's actively trying to push attention away from himself, which is something he can manage with magic, but it's not quite as effective with, you know, a massive headache. Though on the off-chance you do manage it, he spends most of those two days in the park trying to find some peace and quiet to be a complete grouch in.

62-65

But even a stoic man like himself can't avoid the siren call of the Celebration forever. As of the third day and on from then, a very different kind of person can be found and, yes, it really is him, not some friendlier and much, much less sober double. He'll be wearing less and less of the severe white and black clothing he's usually in over time, every day seeing various pieces lost and replaced with other bits of clothing, some more modern (jeans and slacks, for one, are an amazing discovery), some not, although he never really strives for anything you could call too fancy. The further through the week, the less likely he's bothered to button up whatever shirt he's wearing all the way, the greater chance he hasn't cared to pull his hair back and instead leaves it down.

And just where does this fun version of Childermass waste most of his time? Somewhere within the entertainment area, though not for the sake of music or movies. He and whoever his new friends are — and there is a number of them, apparently — have taken over some tables in the back. Smoke fills the air around them, bottles litter the tabletops, and they're playing cards, games ranging from elvish ones to ones from Earth to ones where they may just be making up the rules as they go. Sometimes they're betting whatever random shit they've found in the seemingly endless rooms of the Celebration, sometimes not; it doesn't really matter, since... well, it just doesn't, right? Certainly not here.

Though if he manages to catch someone he knows from the carnival out of the corner of an eye, he'll stop what he's doing and raise an arm in the air to get their attention.

"Well, where do you think you're going? Come over and play a few hands!"

day 65, who's ready for everything to go to shit

[kingsroads]

It's by this point that Strange is just annoyed. Not only have none of the workers here let him go back to the carnival but he can't get that nagging, pulsing feeling out of his head. No matter what sort of distraction he threw himself into, the reminder of what he left back at the Carnival cuts like a knife through any attempt at fun. All he had to do was just check on that ointment, to make sure it was there, he didn't even have to use it (though a part of him was curious as to it's effects) then surely he could go back to the fun that he's supposed to be having and desperately wishes to be having.

Maybe if he played a few rounds of billiards then it would at least clear his head. Before he can make it to the billiard table, however, a familiar voice catches his attention.

"What?" Strange snaps before looking over at...Childermass? Who's smiling? Good Lord, he's gone mad again. That's got to be the only answer for this. Strange walks closer to Childermass, looking him over, as if expecting something to happen (though he couldn't guess what). No, it's not madness, this is Childermass legitimately having a good time. How odd. Odd and interesting. Surely Childermass had to be capable of enjoying himself and having fun. It's just that Strange has never really seen that.

"I suppose that all depends on what we're playing," Strange remarks as he sits down, still a little confused by the whole situation.

it's finally his turn to ruin everything ever

[atouts]

Or maybe it's that Strange isn't mad but Childermass is. How else would anyone explain this? While there's no real reason to assume the man doesn't have an enjoyable bone in his entire body, that he's gone this far down from how he usually is certainly can't be deemed sane and normal. Who would know, though? Who has ever seen Childermass be more than mildly amused, give more than a smirk or even a rare chuckle?

"It's... hm..." Well, regardless of how strange it is, Childermass doesn't seem to be noticing it himself and instead frowns very briefly down at his own hand of cards, as though the 'what' has escaped him, because it definitely has. Strange goes ignored for a moment while he leans over to the elvish woman — also playing — lounging next to him (far closer than could be considered proper, at that). "What was this called again? Something Grace. I only recall the last part."

they're just playing hot potato with 'ruining everything'

[kingsroads]

One of the other elves pushes up a chair, gesturing for Strange to sit down with an inviting smile. He pauses for a moment, looking at the odd scene before he tentatively sits down. This is odd. This entire situation is odd and Strange really has no idea how to navigate this. Well, carefully. That's the obvious, navigate it carefully, but aside from that? No clue.

"Well, deal me in and explain the rules—that is, if you can remember. I'd like to actually put up a decent fight." And really, the more he gets Childermass talking, the more likely it is he could see what was wrong with the man. Obviously he enjoys it here. This place is designed to be enjoyed, it practically begs you to enjoy it. But there's a difference between enjoying and whatever this is. Childermass seems to have thrown himself into this place without any regrets.

[atouts]

No regrets, no worries. Had he had them before — and this being Childermass, he had, immensely — it no longer seems to matter. He likely wouldn't be able to tell you what had even been bothering him before. It's nice, actually, not having to be the one on guard or thinking about any of this at all for once.

"Please, I can remember that much," Childermass says with a laugh, coming back around to look at Strange once he's settled down at the table. "Try and get as many matching suits in your hand as you can. There's serpents, songs, angels, and knights. The game is over when someone draws the Angel of Death."

Like it's that simple, which, chances are, it is. Simple to play, possibly more difficult to win. Another player at the table deals Strange in, sliding five cards face down across the table to him and observation alone should make it apparent that keeping one's hand down the five and only five is part of it.

[kingsroads]

This is still entirely too weird. There's Childermass, laughing, leaning against that woman, playing cards, this is an entirely different side of the man that he had no idea even existed to begin with. Which really, was a bit silly. Surely Childermass enjoyed things, everybody had a hobby or two they enjoyed. It's just that when you never see someone enjoying a hobby, you start to wonder if they even have hobbies to begin with.

Still, this is the most relaxed he's seen Childermass in ages...which gives Strange an idea. Before this trip, Childermass had been so set on the timeline, so certain that he wouldn't tell Strange about his future, about what happened. But now, the man's so opened up, so caught up in the spirit of this place that surely he'd be a little more forthcoming. "I didn't know you were one for cards to begin with," Strange idly responds as he takes a look at his cards. It's possibly a stupid statement because duh Strange, Childermass has his tarot cards, but he's got to start up this small talk that might eventually lead to answers somehow. And well. Even with his minimal knowledge of the game, Strange knows that's a rubbish hand. No matter, he doesn't really care if he wins or loses anyway.

"We should play a round some time back home, once I've left Venice. The Italians have this wonderful card game called scopa. Like most things Italian, it's quite loud—I recommend playing it at least once, but I doubt any of our mutual acquaintances would be any good at it." Just the idea of anybody they knew back home getting drawn into a loud, shouting card game is enough to make Strange smirk slightly.

[atouts]

"Why should you?" It is a good way to lead into speaking of home, even if Childermass finds him wondering at him enjoying cards hilarious. Most people do. It's by no means an uncommon way to pass the time, but still, he does add, "Have you ever known anyone to take an interest in what the servants do for fun?"

It's said in a good-natured enough way, however. It's just how their own time, their own England, is, especially in the south, and so Childermass can hardly hold it against anyone. He had more important things to do then, anyhow. Moving on, he discards one after examining his own hand and reaches across the table to draw a new card.

"Though if you wish to play a round of anything at all, you will have to do so during our year away," he goes on. "I doubt we will be seeing one another anytime soon once I return home."

That should sound far more ominous than it does, it really should, but he can't be bothered to be properly grim right now.

[kingsroads]

Strange can't help but raise an eyebrow at that. He discards two cards because well, when your hand is awful, might as well, before picking up two extra. But what on Earth does Childermass mean by that statement?

"I won't stay in Venice forever, you know." Because that's what he means, right? He doubts they'll see much of each other because it's a bit hard to meet up for card games when one member of the party is on the continent. "Once I bring Arabella back, I imagine we'll return to Shropshire. We'll meet up for cards then."

She always liked it there, after all. And there's certainly no way that Strange would willingly reintroduce himself to London society, not after all the rumors and gossip that had inevitably been spread about him since his departure. Though he's not entirely sure what those rumors might be, he knows enough about the personalities of certain people (cough DRAWLIGHT cough) that there were rumors and gossip to begin with. It would be cruel to subject Arabella to that.

[atouts]

It's difficult to play cards with someone who's gone missing, but even now Childermass won't say that, not directly. So instead he shrugs. At least that hasn't changed about him!

"I was under the impression that she would prefer Venice," is what he says instead, which doesn't reveal anything in particular, although it's most certainly not a fact one could expect him, of all people, to have an inkling of. Another card ends up discarded, another drawn, still no angel of death this round. If Strange watches the other players at all, he'll eventually catch at least one making off with something from the discard pile as sneakily as possible rather than drawing fresh from the deck.

62

[pipers_son]

Childermass is smiling. Well. If that's not a sign of the end of the world, Joker doesn't know what is.

Mind, that doesn't mean he's not coming over, looking far too amused. Hey, if the world is ending, he might as well have fun, right? "And look who's enjoyin' himself! Must be a good game, I wager?"

[atouts]

Maybe not the world, but a sign that something might be wrong? More likely than you would think, though who's going to see it that way? Not Childermass, that's for sure. Not anymore, anyway.

"As good as any other," he answers easily before looking back down at his hand. Whatever they're playing, it must call for matching up cards, because he'll discard something that does not fit with the rest. "Pull up a chair, Joker! There's always room for another player."

[pipers_son]

Listen- sometimes a man just happens to get happier after a few pints. Joker is more willing to blame alcohol or even a bit of opium before he leaps to anything else, at least at this point in time.

…But not before he leaps into the game, shrugging before he looks around for a spare seat. “Well, I suppose if ya insist- what’re we playin’?”

[atouts]

One or the other for sure is helping it along, or even whatever it is several of the other card players at the table are smoking. Childermass himself only has a currently empty glass nearby, although that's hardly telling towards what else he may have been up to earlier.

"Some game from another world," or so he's been told. It must be, as he's never heard of it before this place. "You try to gather as many matching suits in your hand before someone draws the angel of death."

As for spare seats, well, the Celebration has impeccable (also creepy) staff that can appear on a whim, which means one is suddenly and ever so helpfully setting an extra chair down at the table just for Joker.

[pipers_son]

So polite, these practically ominpresent attendants. Joker sprawls himself into the seat, looking perfectly at home for all that he has no idea of what exactly he’ll be playing. Hopefully they don’t have to put down anything- he didn’t exactly bring any money with him. Not even the Atlantean coins. Oh well, maybe the Host can put that to rest, too.

“I think I’m a bit late ta win, then,” he says, faintly amused, “but hell, pass me a hand when this round’s done. I take it the Angel of Death is pretty easy ta spot, huh?”

[atouts]

"That it is," Childermass assures him. "You would not be able to miss it if you drew it."

There's no obvious betting going on, apparently a game for fun over profit. With the Host providing the way he does, it's not as though there'd be all that much to gain from gambling aside from the satisfaction. While that is something to aim for, this time it hasn't come up.

What is, however, is an ample amount of cheating, if Joker is watching closely enough. There are varying degrees of skill at it, ranging from not too bad but still catchable to one or two who don't appear to be cheating at all (but probably are regardless). Childermass falls into the latter category... either that or he's just that lucky because when he discards and draws, he'll lay his entire hand down for all to see to reveal he's gotten five full angels, including the Angel of Death itself (a fairly stylized reaper-like figure).

"Any better?" He'll ask, but of course, there isn't, so he just grins and collects the cards again to reshuffle.

He'll pass Joker five cards along with everyone else when they move on to the next round.

[pipers_son]

Joker is absolutely watching. Not only does he have all the time in the world for it until the round ends (which is probably the opposite of ‘all the time in the world’, honestly), he loves people watching. Some might find it dull, but not him. You can learn so much, especially when people are trying to hide so much like in a game of cards. A person’s tells, if they’re a good liar or not, if they’re having fun or getting too frustrated to want to continue- it’s a fun little pasttime.

Childermass, he has to admit, is pretty spot on- he must be drinking some good stuff. Joker accepts the cards dealt out to him, picking them up fairly well and fanning them out for all that he has one hand. It’ll be hard to cheat, too, but, well, he’s sure he’ll manage. Probably.

“So you’ve just been spendin’ time with cards, huh, Childermass?” he asks casually, looking over his hand to see just how far along he is.

[atouts]

Joker's hand is two serpents, two knights, and a dagger. While he wouldn't be able to put names to any of the cards, they images and markings are similar enough between the various suits to tell what belongs together. Definitely not a deck from Earth, that much is apparent.

"Oh, not all my time," Childermass answers, shooting a less than subtle smile over towards one of the elven ladies — the black-haired one — also playing. It's a look she catches and returns with a wink before tossing a card out onto the discard pile this round has started and drawing a new card.

"Though I do admit these have taken up more than a little of it," he'll add before turning his own attention back to his hand. Like the rest, he'll pick a card out to get rid of, then pick one up from the remaining deck. "And yourself? Haven't dragged any poor souls to some spontaneously appearing mall or anything, have you?"

this is going to be awful, just look away

[whattaprick]

"Oh, go plough yourself!" Lambert exclaims, disgusted as he throws his hand of cards down on the table for the umpteenth time.

And to think things had started off so well, too. Childermass with his hair down also appears to be a Childermass that women flock to like bees to honey (or flies to vinegar, if Lambert's being ungracious-- which he is, right now) and a Childermass that knows more than few card games. For the last couple of days, their paths have crossed in and out as they partake of what the Celebration has to offer, not actively seeking each other out but falling in together for a few hours at a time before wandering apart again.

The supernaturally beautiful, entirely shirtless women lounging with them on the divans they've dragged together titter meanly as Lambert grumbles and gets to his feet, swaying slightly. Some of them are missing more clothing than others, shoes and the lacy bits of nothing that offer token modesty. But no one's missing more than Lambert, who's down to his medallion and the trousers hugging low on his hips, his shirt and shoes long ago surrendered to the vagaries of strip poker. If only he could blame the opposite of beginner's luck.

But it doesn't take him long to decide that nudity is the better part of valor, smirking at one of the women while he undoes his (laced) pants, hooks his fingers into the waistband, and tugs it off to reveal ... absolutely nothing underneath, which triggers another ripple of giggling and catcalls while he dramatically drops back onto the cushions.

just abandon all hope right now

[atouts]

"Why, Mr. Lambert, I do believe that is the worst thing I have seen all week," Childermass says, having fallen back into a much less out of place deadpan but only for the sake of setting off another round of laughter from around the table. If Lambert has any complaints, he will only have himself to blame — for the game, which he had proposed in the first place, and for the man who's seated on the opposite side from him, who would have normally abstained from such nonsense had someone not made a point shove him, even if only metaphorically, headfirst into the celebration.

And so the source of Lambert's ungracious thoughts no doubt have much to do with the fact that, out of everyone here, Childermass is barely missing any of his clothing at all. It seems tarot cards are not the only cards he has a knack for. While he made a point to lose once or twice, the worst of it is a missing cravat or vest, but after that? Well, let's just say he's collected nearly everyone's shirts (and then some) off their back at this point, and if he's been cheating (which he absolutely has been), he certainly hasn't given away just how he's doing it.

"Though with that, it would seem you are out of the game," he'll add, but not without arching an eyebrow and giving a nod towards the one thing Lambert is still wearing. "Unless you are planning on putting up the medallion?"

[whattaprick]

The Celebration would heighten Lambert's recklessness, nudge him into the thought that one more round wouldn't be so bad, but it hums against his chest and his hand instinctively wraps around it as he slowly shakes his head. Although the reasons aren't clear to his addled mind right now, the knowledge that he shouldn't let it go is too deeply ingrained in him for the mood of this place to touch.

"How about a new game instead?" He smirks, even as the rest of the loose circle of women around him boo and tease him for just trying to get out of things, but Lambert holds up both hands, a silent plea for patience.

"No, no. I promise, this will be infinitely more revealing than merely taking off our clothes. But first, we'll need drinks!" His medallion hums again when the servants appear around them, bearing a selection of alcohol (not that they didn't have enough already to start them playing in the first place) for them to pick over.

"This game's called 'I never...' and the rules are simple. You say 'I've never' followed by anything you want. Anyone who's done that thing has to drink. Interested?"

[atouts]

Childermass takes a moment to consider it, head tilting to one side a little as he does. He'll look around and it's there where the real answer lays, that their scantily clad (or not clad at all, in some cases) entourage seem to like the idea. No doubt the results will be funny, depending on what's stated, and so who is he decline?

"Very well," he agrees to it and folds the remaining cards in front of him back into one stack. "Sounds like an excuse to get drunk again, if you ask me."

But that's hardly a complaint at this point in the game — that game being the Celebration itself —and it won't stop him from picking a drink up off one of the laden trays passing him by.

"But go on, then. It's your game, you start."

[whattaprick]

"That's the point," Lambert grins, securing himself glass of vodka, and waiting until everyone else has a drink in hand before he leans forward, the scars and burn marks roping across his skin shifting queasily as the muscle moves under it.

"All right. Let's go clockwise around," he twirls a finger around, indicating their small circle of individuals. "I have never..." He draws out the silence, looking around at the avid looks of their companions.

"Kissed someone while wearing a dress." In response, Lambert gets a few shoves and accusations of cheating, even as others are already tipping their drinks to their lips. He laughs, settling back with a wicked grin.

"Hey, I said you could say 'anything you want.'"

[atouts]

Childermass, of course, does not drink. No surprise there. That one was obviously aimed at the ladies sitting around them, but the next in line is quick to get her revenge by claiming she's never gotten a scar. Aimed mostly at Lambert, sure, but that one he'll have to drink on as well, considering his most obvious one is the long since healed cut drawn from cheekbone to just short of his mouth.

And the woman after that picks up on the joke from the one previous and states she's never gotten two scars. Apparently, this pattern will go on for a few more rounds, just increasing the number of scars they do not have, until it reaches Childermass. By then, he's had to take a drink until they hit around six scars. He doesn't for that one, nor seven, and then it's his turn.

He isn't going to add an eighth scar, much to the pouting of the rest of their company.

"And I... have never fought a vampire."

[whattaprick]

Naked as a jaybird, Lambert can't exactly pretend he doesn't have any less than he has, and he takes drink after drink to much laughter and an increasingly hangdog look on his face. When Childermass speaks, unsurprisingly, he tips his glass up again, but he's the only one who drinks -- there are gasps of shock and suddenly anxious laughter from the rest of their group and murmurs of both admiration and anxiety. Lambert wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, his glass almost empty, and gives Childermass a wounded look.

"Traitor," he huffs, but despite his complaint the break in pattern seems to have done the trick, the next elf woman considering her own statement more carefully before she speaks. I have never... fallen in love at first sight.

The question sets off another round of giggles around the table, the brief tension relaxing again. Lambert doesn't drink, which results in a few moments of teasing before the game moves on again, taking on a different tone.

I have never been with someone more than a year, a woman with hair that appears to be made of flame sighs, to murmurs of sympathy.

I've never been spanked in bed! a cheeky, spritelike woman cackles. Lambert drinks for that one, and it's his turn again, the last swallow of his whiskey swirling at the bottom of his cup. If that's the way this evening's headed...

"I've never been tied to a bed during sex," he says, leering. "But there's always a first time."

[atouts]

He'll only laugh at that huffed 'traitor' and lift his glass, tipping it in a mock salute to poor Lambert. If he had expected him to side against the ladies, well, he was out of luck. It won't matter much, in any case, as they all move on to different topics. He won't drink on the first — love has never been much of a deal for him — and he won't drink on the second or third ones, either.

It isn't until Lambert's turn that he has to roll his eyes at what his never is and finally take a drink. If you're tired of giggling and everyone making jokes about this sort of thing, well, this is definitely not the table to stay about, because, of course, that garners yet another round of both.

But since that is the way the game seems to be going, the woman seated next to Lambert has to think about it for a second and then add hopefully to the rest of the table, I've never been in a threesome and there's a whole lot of drinking for that one here, including one previously very stoic man.

Another is I have never been married and the next is, funnily enough, And I've never slept with a married man. One or two who didn't drink to the first definitely drink to that one. This brings the round back to Childermass and he takes his time, topping off his glass with the nearest bottle while he decides.

Eventually, he'll add, "I have never slept with anyone outdoors."

When in Rome, right?