⇨ 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

more like hardly party

[atouts]

It takes a few seconds for him to even realize that Lambert is addressing him and not some other person standing nearby. Childermass has only stopped here to hopefully wait out a headache. He had considered just retiring to his room for the evening and then staying there for as long as conceivably possible, but he only made it so far as the exact same couch before needing to sit down.

When he does realize it, however, he'll pick his head back up from the couch's backing where he's been resting it against — eyes closed, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose like that will help somehow — and turn to squint at (the hell did your shirt go, man?), then frown at Lambert.

"You can see me?"

Yeah, he sounds really annoyed by that.

[whattaprick]

Lambert doesn't look at all put off by the cranky greeting, just raising a brow at Childermass from where he's leaning against the couch in a not unsimilar position, though his legs are spread a bit more than he normally would. Blame it on the regrettably tight pants.

"Yeah, I can see you look like shit." He raises a hand for one of the servants to come over with its serving tray, well-practiced at this by now, and grabs two glasses of water -- one for he sips at, the other he thrusts at Childermass.

"What's wrong, did you snort the purple stuff? I really don't recommend that."

[atouts]

He almost doesn't accept the water, giving it the exact same irritated look that he had given Lambert, but he must have deemed it silly to do that after a second or two of sustained glowering. It's only a glass of water and that's really better than nothing.

"I did not," Childermass replies after he does take the offered water. "Nor do I plan to..."

Does he even want to know? He sure won't ask about it, in any case, though he also skips right over explaining what actually is wrong.

[whattaprick]

"Yeah, well. If someone asks you to try it, don't do it. No matter how pretty they are." Inelegantly, he scratches at his stomach. He's surprisingly slept a lot since he came here, but not in his room -- given the sleeping arrangements. Meditation seems impossible in a place like this, but crashing is perfectly doable. The drugs and alcohol are remarkably effective at numbing overly keen senses. If he wasn't a Witcher, though, they probably would have burned out by now.

Normally, if Childermass wouldn't tell him what's wrong of his own volition, Lambert would shrug and leave it alone. He's nobody's agony aunt, and he wouldn't have even halfway decent advice to offer them. Also, despite Vesemir thinking otherwise, he does know his own shortcomings, and listening sympathetically is one of them.

So he's just going to skip all the steps that would normally go into prying someone's problems out of them and skip right to the part where he's successfully convinced them to let their hair down.

"Relax and have a drink," he orders, waving a hand -- it takes a touch of concentration, but at least his muscle memory means he could do Axii blind and tied upside down.

[atouts]

And it's surprisingly effective. With how much effort is unconsciously going into resisting their surroundings, something more direct — like, say, what Lambert just did — slips by unnoticed. While there are a brief few seconds where Childermass looks like he may still be about to tell Lambert to sod off, that passes and the tension he's been holding onto in his shoulders and neck and just about everywhere else begins to fade.

"I suppose I may as well while I'm down here..." Though agreeing with the command still comes with somewhat of a grumble. Fine, he'll relax and drink the water, but clearly only because it's liable to do something to help this headache. He'll sink down deeper into the couch while he sips the water and looks around them. "Although what these people are going around offering is no worry of mine. I doubt any of it can touch me."

[whattaprick]

It's satisfying, to see Childermass relax, and it leaves Lambert feeling particularly accomplished. He should have done this sooner, he decides, the idea that it wouldn't have occurred to him when they first arrived completely slipping him by.

"It's enough to work on me," he shrugs, tossing back his own glass of water and crunching noisily on the ice cubes. "But if it didn't, I'd be grumpy too. What happened, did someone curse you to never have fun?"

It's a totally reasonable guess. People curse each other for the pettiest shit all the time, and not being able to get drunk or taste food would go a long way to explaining a lot about the man.

[atouts]

"A curse?" Relaxed Childermass doesn't mean friendly Childermass, however, and he can't help but pull a face — however minute — at the crunching of the ice. It's almost as if Lambert is naturally this annoying. "Of course not. I picked up an item that filters out toxins back in Atlantis. How else did you think I survived drinking with you before?"

[whattaprick]

"What?" That gets through enough to make Lambert sit up, unpeeling from the couch and exposing the constellation of bioluminescent spots that scatter across his back like freckles -- a parting gift from Atlantis. "Why'd you drink all that booze then, you asshole?"

He seems more miffed that Childermass deprived him of a few extra glasses of alcohol than anything else. Ugh, and he let him have White Gull, too!

"Waste of good hooch," he sighs, then holds out his hand to him, beckoning. "Come on then, let's see it."

[atouts]

Childermass shrugs a shoulder at the question, answering rather matter-of-factly and unruffled by the reaction, "To verify that it worked in the first place."

Which made all those extra glasses of whiskey and White Gull a worthwhile sacrifice, as far as he's concerned. Whether Lambert agrees or not isn't his problem. Asking to see it, however, isn't something he's at all inclined to do, especially since it would mean fishing a necklace out from under cravat, vest, and shirt.

So when Lambert holds a hand out, asking for the necklace, he'll only shake his head.

"You will have to excuse me if I do not indulge your curiosity. I would rather leave it where it is."

[whattaprick]

Ah, Childermass. If you only knew Lambert better (not that his you'd know that denying him what he wants only makes him more determined to get it. Whatever it is, since he hasn't figured that out yet, but that's not going to stop him from straightening up, hand raised again.

"I'd rather you give it to me," he says, fingers beckoning again. Axii isn't really meant to be a long-term spell, or really used so much in a small time, but it'd worked well enough before and he hadn't seemed to notice so there's a good chance it'll work again.

[atouts]

And while it does work again, this time the spell meets a little more resistance. Between his headache and their surroundings, Axii still manages to stay under the radar, but asking for him to relax was much different than asking for something Childermass does not want to hand over. So, the request earns itself an uncertain look at first, a few seconds where he tries to work out why he should, but then he finds some reason to rationalize it — however bizarre that might actually be — and sets his water aside.

"Very well, but don't see what you'll gain from it," said with a sigh and a roll his eyes, generally acting as if this is such a pointless thing to do despite that fact he's still doing it.

It takes a moment, too, since he has to reach up and untie his cravat, which he'll leave hanging down from around his neck like a scarf when undone. A few buttons on his vest are unbuttoned, followed by a few from his undershirt. Under all of that, there are signs of two necklaces, but it's the one with the somewhat intricate beads made from a pale green jade that he'll pull up and over his head to hand over.

[whattaprick]

It's a handy spell, Axii, though even Lambert doesn't normally use it on such trivial things -- but he just doesn't have any patience, right now, already feeling restless just sitting as long as he has. If it hadn't worked, he probably would have tried to wrest it from Childermass physically, just for the sake of doing something with his hands, but fortunately that doesn't prove necessary.

"So those do come off," he exclaims, when Childermass starts fiddling with the fastenings and many layers of his clothes. "I was starting to think they were growing on you."

He weighs the necklace in his hand, letting the body-warm stone slip through his fingers, then grins and slides it into a back pocket (one of the marvels of clothing in this world, who needs saddlebags) before clapping Childermass on his shoulder.

"Fancy. Now let's get you properly drunk." As if on cue, here comes a servant bearing a tray with a selection of whiskey and a pair of classes, summoned by will alone.

[atouts]

He should be asking for the necklace back, he should be, and he can't figure out why he doesn't. One day he will and he'll be furious when he does, but Lambert has at least the upcoming week before he has to face that. For now, the abrupt arrival of the servant is distracting enough that he won't think of it again.

"Why am I not surprised," Childermass says dryly. He shrugs that hand off his shoulder, sitting up straighter again as he does. "I try not to drink in the course of my duties—" Which is a phrase he is so used to saying that it comes out automatically. 'Free time' is actually a long-forgotten concept that the carnival shockingly has too much of, though recalling that does give him pause. "Though... I suppose I do not actually have any here."

[whattaprick]

Angry Childermass is a problem that future Lambert can deal with when and if he has to. Present Lambert is much more interested in seeing what he can get present Childermass to do.

"You're damn right you don't," Lambert answers with all too much cheer, dropping back onto the couch in a lazy sprawl now that the matter of the necklace is settled. Alcohol is alcohol, so he picks a bottle at random off the tray, pouring them both cups carelessly.

"So take a load off. Who knows when we'll get this many free drinks again."

[atouts]

Oh, and what a problem he will be, but until then? He'll drink. Much more, in fact, than he would normally. Some of it is due to their surroundings (how much he's been needing a drink for, like, the past few years is astounding, so it's not like there isn't a ton for the place to work with here) and the rest due to trying to keep pace with Lambert. He had managed it before, but that had been all thanks to the necklace.

Without it, round two ends with Childermass being drunk by the time they're nearly done with the bottle Lambert had chosen. Drunk and chatty, at that, but perhaps that isn't so shocking. Anyway, by the time they've reached this point, he's part way through complaining — at great length — how certain people kept trying to implement magical law that simply did not make sense at the time, the place, how and why certain practices of it can't possibly mesh with how much England has changed—

Seriously, Lambert, he'll go on forever if not stopped. Apparently, the guy really is a huge nerd.

taggin qt childermass before plot childermass because i can, damn it

[whattaprick]

Fun Childermass had been enjoyable to start, and it's pleasantly vindicating to see him plastered, even if Lambert has to drink twice as much to match it. After a certain point of hearing that rumbling voice go on, Lambert's let the bulk of it pass from one ear through the other. It feels like listening to a very academic bear, and when Childermass carries on and on, he decides that's probably enough of that for now and reaches over to unceremoniously put a hand over the other man's mouth to smother him mid-sentence.

"Shhh, I get it," he shushes, half-smothering laughter of his own.

"Why don't you just marry magic? You sure know enough about it," he snickers into his drink. It's just funny, endlessly funny, how much a little drink and the right motivation can get a guy talking more in fifteen minutes than he's spoken in all the time Lambert's known him. Which isn't saying a lot, but he knows the silent type when he sees it.

there is no such thing as qt childermass you take that back

[atouts]

"Even if you wanted to use the old court, you would need twelve practicing magicians for it, and what did we have? Two! And it's not as if anyone would ever let him be in charge of any court all on his own. It's not as though he's the king of bloody magician—"

And then someone rudely shoves a hand in his face like that. Now that's something that's never happened before and even as he is now, he'll jerk back and smack the offending hand away before giving Lambert such an offended look.

"What? That doesn't even make sense."

protect qt childermass 2017

[whattaprick]

Lambert laughs at that, mostly because seriously, that face.

"Mr. Childermass," he says, with exaggerated formality. "The only time I ever hear someone talk this much about one subject is when they're in love with it. I mean, usually the object of their affections is a bit more capable of returning them, but..." He waggles his brows. "You clearly have strong feelings about it."

Just two magicians, he says. Just like Strange had. And yet the math doesn't quite add up -- literally. Strange had mentioned a mentor he'd had a falling out with; Childermass had mentioned being in the service of a magician. He certainly hadn't acted deferential to Strange in the least when he'd seen them together, so they're talking about something else. Yet he'd been at the circle in the woods, tasked with assisting in channeling energy to open a dark gate...

Right now, Lambert is playful, not completely blitzed out of his mind, so he can put some pieces together.

"Though I think your math's off. You're a magician too, aren't you?"

[atouts]

To that, Childermass rolls his eyes and takes a moment to check his drink. Empty, but he's already very sure he's had enough as it is.

"I do not know how else I would speak of it. If it is love for magic, then so be it, but it is still a matter of great importance even if not," he manages to get out with minimal slurring after that. He brings his head back up at Lambert's question, though, and let out a soft laugh, more of an amused huff of air than anything else. "And the answer you would get to that would vary greatly, depending on who you asked."

He sets the empty glass aside, balancing it with great care on the arm of the couch they've taken over.

[whattaprick]

"Well, that's a great way of not answering the question," Lambert snickers, hooking his arms over the back of the couch and taking up too much space entirely as he lounges on it.

"But in case you hadn't noticed ... I wasn't asking anyone else, I was asking you." He sits up and leans in, using the sudden loss of personal space to search Childermass' face, a smirk still playing on the corner of his lips.

"Forget about what anyone else says or thinks. Are you a magician, or not?"

[atouts]

Even as Lambert encroaches on his space like that, Childermass is unmoved. The closeness hardly bothers him and he knows leaning away would only invite further loss of couch space. So he only squints tiredly at the other man, then glances up towards the ceiling as if considering an answer that's written somewhere up there. There isn't, obviously, but he's thinking.

"Context still matters," he concludes, looking down and at Lambert again. "But as I am able to use practical magic, I suppose I must consider myself a magician."

[whattaprick]

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Lambert drawls, reaching back over for his glass and lifting it towards Childermass and raising it in a vague toast. Most magic's impractical, as far as he's concerned, but Childermass does seem like a practical person -- so it's funny to think of a definition of practical magic outside of the sense he's thinking of it. Practical magic, like the sort you'd use for washing dishes and cleaning up messes, sounds exactly something Childermass would be good at.

"What's the hangup? You ashamed of being one or something?"

[atouts]

Lambert's damn lucky he didn't ask what the difference between practical and not was, because that way only leads to him going on and on again, likely not at as much length, but still. Childermass gives his head a small shake at whether or not he's ashamed by magic, of all things.

"Hardly," he answers. "But there have only been two officially recognized magicians in recent time and I am not one of them, nor do I expect I'll ever be."

Not that he sounds terribly put out by that fact. It just is what it is, apparently.

[whattaprick]

"'Officially,' huh? Sounds like a load of paperwork to me," Lambert snorts, shoulders shifting on the couch until he's found a comfortable position to settle in and he does, eyes drifting half-shut.

"If there are only two magicians in all of England, who the hell does the recognizing?"

[atouts]

"Parliament," Childermass says, but not without the biggest goddamn roll of his eyes that there has ever been. Stuffy politicians (even stuffier than Childermass!) deciding anything about magic, it's ridiculous.

"Although considering one of those two magicians spent an inordinate amount of time ensuring he was the only one about, it is not quite so shocking that there would not be more."