lostcarnival | HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

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HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

Who: The people who escaped!
When: Very early Day 66 to Day 67
Where: The Carnival
What: The Ringmaster brings everyone she can back to the carnival after getting kicked out the Celebration, a bit worse for wear. Those that have resolved their threads at the Masquerade can start trickling over here as they sort things out.
Warnings: Angst, mostly likely, as well as potentially graphic injuries.

RETURNING HOME↴

About 45 minutes after the conflict with the vampires begins, the Ringmaster will finally show her face at the Masquerade - and immediately be mortified by what she sees. Though initially mostly confused by the fact that there's been problems over the week, and characteristically obtuse about what's going on, as soon as she realizes the severity of the threat she will launch into action. If the Host managed to miss the combat already going on, they won't be able to miss the Ringmaster tearing up the joint and looking for her people. She's quick to scoop up those that have managed to gather in the dining hall - but unfortunately her arrival seems to be the vampire's cue to retreat.

Her attempt to challenge the Host about this will result in the being finally losing their patience and banishing all the vampires and all of the carnival workers from the premises, forcing them back to the portals they arrived from and launching their remaining belongings out with them. The Ringmaster will be pretty fucking pissed off when they return (once again) and will tell everyone to take the time they need to recover, but to stick together and stay safe for the time being. She has a plan to chase down the carnival members that have been stolen, but it will take time.

► BEER PONG: Apparently the Ringmaster spent the entire week playing a nonstop game of beer pong, against several dozen of the Host's bodies. She hadn't quite won yet when the Masquerade began, so she was late. Whether or not she was caught up in the same spell as everyone else is up to interpretation, but the answer "definitely probably." She won, for the record.

► MISSING: Upon doing headcounts, it will turn out that all the supervisors are missing, as well as several regular workers - a few of which will have been spotted as freshly turned vampires during the fighting. Whether that was the point of the attack or not is unclear, but it's pretty clear that the Ringmaster is a little bit devastated about it - particularly about the supervisors. However, she will refuse to talk to anyone long enough to get into too many details.

► THE PLAN: The Ringmaster will announce that she intends to get everyone back - it's just a matter of figuring out their way back to the dimension they've been stolen off to. She guarantees that she will find it, but that it may take some time. In the end, the workers will have a total of two days to recover and plan - during the evening of Day 67, she will be leading a rescue mission to get them all back. You don't have to come, but lives do depend on its success.

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"Well then ask me. If you want to know what I was up to in Venice, if you want to know what I was doing before I arrived here, ask me and I'll tell you all you need to know."

And then once Strange tells Childermass everything about his situation, maybe Childermass can let slip a few more details about the future. It's highly doubtful, of course, but he's just living on hope with regards to all this future nonsense.

It's undoubtedly a bad idea to show interest, but Childermass does slow down when Strange says that, then outright stops a step or two later. He looks back at Strange, that he's obviously torn between wanting to know or just keep going a more pronounced expression than he normally ever has.

It's always been among those glaring pieces of information he never had. That and what happened within Hurtfew after he left, but he assumes the latter will forever be a mystery...

"Why would you?"

Of course, he isn't about to ask without being suspicious first. Why share with him when he won't share in return?

"Because I've nothing to hide." It's said as if it's the most simple thing in the world. He made no attempt to be secret or hide his movements in Venice. Granted, he may have been a little circumspect about his end goals, but the Greysteels had to have a slight idea about what he was up to. And Childermass knows part of the results already: his madness. He couldn't hide that when he first arrived even if he wanted to.

Besides, if it's not all public knowledge in Childermass's time, then it'll probably be public knowledge soon enough. A mad magician with plans to free his wife from faerie can't stay under the radar forever. And, because if he tells this information to Childermass then maybe, just maybe the man would be more likely to share information himself.

What happened, in the end, wasn't news to Childermass, although whether everyone involved was at all inclined to speak with him is another story. He's pieced together quite a bit, but what Strange actually did in his own time in Venice? Still a mystery, aside from having been in contact with the fairy who'd caused so much trouble and getting the box. How, he may never know, but—

"Of course. You never do, do you?" He says as much with a sigh, not at all expecting an answer to that question. Strange is not only an awful liar but too honest for his own good. He turns back to face him rather than just looking back over a shoulder. "All right, then. What were you been up to in Venice? Before finding the carnival?"

Edited 2017-03-12 20:40 (UTC)

"The long and short of it was that I was trying to drive myself mad. I came upon that plan when I was in England, shortly after I was arrested for breaking into Norrell's house." Which...oh yeah, he's still kind of a wanted man, isn't he. Strange frowns a bit, as if that's the first time that's actually occurred to him (because it has) before he brushes it off and continues.

"Venice was an acceptable climate and far away enough from England that I doubted anyone would come looking for me. While there, I devoted myself to the study of madness. Even if the faerie hides itself from the magician who summoned it, the faerie can be seen by a madman. I met a family there, they Greysteels, who directed me to the company of a madwoman, Miss Delgado." There's a small hint of affection in Strange's voice as he talks about the Greysteels. At least Flora was a wonderful source of companionship in a time when he desperately needed it. She probably had no idea how wonderful just her being there was to him.

"Once in Venice, I met with Miss Delgado. We came to an agreement. I gave her her heart's desire, she gave me an object representative of her madness. The initial effect was...quite strong, but I managed to brew the object down to a tincture I could take to induce more reasonable periods of madness. Under the influence of the tincture, I summoned a faerie: a distinguished looking gentleman with a green coat and hair the color of thistle-down. We briefly talked and I told him I would summon him again the next day to discuss the terms of our arrangement. The next day, before I could summon him again, I stumbled upon the carnival."

Strange finally pauses, as he looks over at Childermass. There it is, all laid out on the table, the story of what he was up to. "I think I've told it all fairly well, but knowing me I've inevitably missed a spot. If you have any questions, ask them."

Okay, that's a lot to sift through, but this is Childermass here. He can manage, picking out the one exact detail he finds of any real importance. Sorry, Greysteels and Miss Delgado, he does not actually care about any of you. The faerie, on the other hand, fits a description he's seen — thanks to Lady Pole's demented little embroidery project — and heard before.

"The gentleman," he starts, closing the distance between himself and Strange with one or two steps. "The faerie you summoned, did you ask him for anything before he left the first time?"

Edited 2017-03-13 00:18 (UTC)

"Not entirely? I proposed an alliance between the two of us to work together and bring that spark back into English magic, much like the Raven King's in times of old." Norrell's had his grip on English magic for long enough. At least in Strange's eyes, it's dusty, boring, and desperately in need of livening up.

There's a pause as Strange mulls Childermass's question over, obviously trying to cast his mind back to remember precisely what happened a few months ago. He squinches up his mouth in a frown as he thinks, seemingly unaware that Childermass has come closer. "He seemed tentative about the idea of an alliance. So, I gave him a few days to think it over and also most likely to research me and my deeds. I did not ask him for anything, aside to consider my proposal." Pause. "Well, I did ask him for a pinch of snuff but told him to disregard it before the request could be granted. I hardly think that counts, though."

"That's all?"

Of course, it has to be, Strange would have shared anything he could recall. Childermass won't sigh over it, that the other magician is likely just one or two days apart from where it might be simpler to tell him what happens. It's frustrating, though.

"And what were you planning to say to him when he returned? Had you thought of that yet?"

"Back home, I was going to ask the faerie to bring Arabella back from the dead." It's obvious to them both why that wouldn't be a practical solution to him now. Strange's face falls a little bit as he frowns in thought. What was he going to ask the faerie now, now that he knew what he knew?

"I suppose now I shall ask him to take me to where Arabella is trapped, or at least provide me the location or name of the faerie who trapped her there in the first place." There might be complicated fae politics or whatever preventing the gentleman from actually doing anything. But Strange is certain that if he at least has the name of the creature who trapped her in the first place, he could find a way to save his wife. Just don't ask him how he's going to do that much.

That, that's what he has been fearing so much. Something has changed. Childermass still has no idea how he came to have the box with Lady Pole's finger in it, only that it must have been in Venice, and now that may never come to pass. He moves to reach out and grasp Strange by the shoulder, but the urge to shake the damnable madman is one he can quash. It won't help, he knows that.

"No," he tells him adamantly. "You must still do what you had planned before, ask him what you planned to ask. Don't you understand? This is why I refused to say anything before. We have no way of knowing if what do won't change how everything is meant to end!"

His expression flashes from confused to annoyed as Childermass grabs him by the shoulder. Still, Strange doesn't make an effort to remove the other man's hand, his own hands clasped firmly behind his back.

"Surely by knowing what is to come, things have changed already?" Undoubtedly, Strange in Venice with knowledge of his wife being alive would act completely different than Strange in Venice thinking she's dead. After all, Childermass has no idea what Strange was up to in Venice.

"We have no way of knowing if what we do won't change things, but likewise we have no idea if what happens in our world is a result of us being here in the first place. Perhaps I ask the faerie about Arabella being alive and that's how I receive your silly box. Perhaps not. But one thing is undoubtedly clear to me: I've no idea how to keep us on the correct path if I don't know what the path is to begin with!"

And that's the entire crux of the problem, isn't it? They don't know. They can't know. How ironic it would be if Childermass drove himself mad just trying to plan for however many instances the timeline might be ruined, though it isn't an irony he would find at all amusing.

"Then that makes two of us," he mutters, fingers digging into the cloth around Strange's shoulder for a second or two before he realizes it and lets go, stepping back again. This coupled with his headache and every other pain from dealing with vampires, it's certainly not helping his mood. He glances away, off to a side, turning what to do over in his head again. Strange isn't necessarily wrong...

"If you want to save her, you do need to get that box," he finally decides, looking back again, predictably grim. "You need to get it and send it to Hurtfew along with a message asking for my help."

Technically, Strange may be able to save his wife just fine without freeing Lady Pole, but that isn't a possibility he's going to share. If the other magician is hellbent on knowing this, it'll be both rescued or neither at all.

At least for Strange, the painkiller he popped back in the medical tent is starting to work. He still feels dead-tired from the vampires, but at least now his aches and pains have (slightly) let up.

Still, as Childermass mentions the box and relays his instructions, Strange nods. The other man's obviously under the impression that once Strange sees what's in the box, he'll know what to do, what note to send, and why he would need Childermass's help in the first place. He also knows that there's absolutely no way Childermass will tell him what's in this mysterious box in the first place.

There's a very tired sigh before Strange continues. "I suppose we're going to reach a standstill. I'm undoubtedly going to keep asking you about my future and you're undoubtedly going to keep refusing to answer my questions. This'll go on and on until we're both blue in the face and can't stand each other." Which would be a problem, since they were co-workers...and also since Strange doesn't really want to end up with a relationship where he and Childermass are on the outs. Childermass is one of the few people he can talk to about certain things and definitely the only person he can talk to about anything related to their world. He's still a bit grumpy at the man, that's a given, but even Strange can realize this is a bridge he doesn't want to burn.

They're not friends, of course. He just likes talking with him. Totally not friends in the slightest.

"Perhaps I'll reserve asking you about my future only on special occasions?"

"I suppose we are," Childermass agrees. He's honestly too tired to even shrug the answer away at this point, but he and Strange both know he's already right on the nose about that much. It would continue to be an endless back and forth and they would inevitably have more arguments over it. Even acknowledging it now, he knows more of that is in their future of the here and now, rather than back in England.

It is difficult not to look resigned when Strange goes on to ask about reserving what other questions he might have. 'Special occasions'. Childermass doubts they would survive a second special occasion like this last one.

"And that very much depends on how you define those. I was not myself those past few days and I don't really care to repeat most of it."

"I was thinking birthdays and holidays," said with a very tired smile. This is obviously Strange trying to tease Childermass slightly, trying to get things remotely back to normal after the fight.

Of course, he certainly plans to take advantage should Childermass find himself that far gone again. But considering the chaos of the Celebration and the fact that Strange doubts Childermass will let himself get that caught up ever again, he's resigned himself to the fact that the likelihood something like that will occur is slim to none.

"About the past few days, how on Earth did you get that way in the first place? You have normally have such remarkable self-control, seeing you like that was...unexpected."

The attempt to joke only earns Strange a raise of his eyebrows. Like, really, does he look like the man who celebrates birthdays? Chances are no, no he does not, though asking how he was caught up in the Celebration as he was at least turns any comment he may have had about birthdays and holidays into irritation towards one other person in particular.

Safe to say, he's going to roll his eyes just thinking about it and turn to start walking again. If the argument is over, then there's no point in standing still and Strange will have to tag along if he wants to hear his answer.

"Someone took it upon themselves to help me with that," he says, sounding like he thinks it to have been the absolute opposite of help. Seeing how it's Childermass, that's no doubt true. "But even without, that place was a trap, even worse if you're at all sensitive to magic. I am surprised you did not fall into it yourself."

Strange does tag along, mostly because he's curious. Who on Earth would take it upon themselves to get Childermass to loosen up? Surely there were easier targets! But, then again, that might be the point in the first place.

But, back to the topic of that place. "I almost did," he admits, with a little frown. "I certainly did at the masquerade." And he is decidedly not mentioning the thing that kept him lucid in the first place. The attraction of the cursed ointment he had back at the carnival and the lure of the Celebration just played hell with Strange's psyche.

"I suppose my experience with madness helped me navigate this easier than most." That's an excuse. It's said in a tone that's supposed to sound nonchalant, but it is one hundred percent Strange grasping at straws for a plausible excuse. For all of Strange's bluster and grumbling about other people keeping secrets, it's apparent that the big hypocrite is keeping something secret himself.

He isn't like to say, as much as it annoys him. The last thing Childermass wants is Strange tracking down the culprit and peppering them with questions, too, but, thankfully, it seems the topic is already steering away from anything to do with Childermass himself.

He's perfectly comfortable with that.

"Did it?" He'll the other magician a searching look, glancing over at him as they walk along back through the carnival. Normally, he might see right through the excuse. Strange is bad at lying, he's always told himself, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's true. This time, that sounds reasonable enough and being as exhausted as he is... "I suppose it had to have come in handy at some point. That probably saved your life."

Strange tries to keep his expression calm as Childermass glances over him...and likewise, tries not to seem visibly relieved as the other man buys his excuse. Thank God.

"It helped me survive the Celebration and let me see faeries in the first place. Perhaps madness is more useful than people realize." Of course, it's still madness to begin with and it still caused everybody a fair amount of trouble when he first arrived, something that Strange seems to have forgotten.

"If not madness, that place seemed hell bent on driving us towards something. Whatever spell they cast over the Celebration was remarkably good." Something that he's still a little grumpy about.

"Stealing away bits and pieces of people's lives, I think. Mr. Lambert and I followed the servants when they took one of the less well off..."

What's a good word for it? Childermass doesn't really call anyone a friend, even though he knows there is a handful already in the carnival who might call him one in return regardless. He doesn't really want to call any of the women he while away his time playing cards with companions, either, because that implies other things (not exactly untrue, but also another topic to avoid).

"Guests, I suppose," he finally settles on that. He would much rather call them prisoners since he thinks it fits the best, but it also strikes him as being melodramatic. "I'm not sure most of them could even recall all of their lives before they ended up trapped in the Celebration, but they most definitely seemed incredibly ill after passing out, more than you might already expect."

Edited 2017-03-19 22:46 (UTC)

Strange can't help but wince. He's got no idea the extent to how ill someone could get at the Celebration but between all the drinks and drugs floating around, they'd probably be in poorer form than he could even imagine. To get even more ill on top of that...those poor people.

"And then I imagine once the guest feels better, that little magical nudge to go out and have fun starts up again," he sighs, in a bit of a sarcastic tone. Because of course it would. If the Celebration fed off of people,

"I do wonder...at least two of the realms we've visited, we've left the people there at the whims of their world." The Agents in the Matrix, those people still stuck at the Celebration. They were a carnival, not a rescue team, but it still rubs Strange the wrong way slightly. "I don't expect us to make a difference at any of those places, but I do wonder how many more times we'll arrive, stay long enough to realize something's wrong, and then get hurried off before anything can get solved."

"Exactly that," Childermass concurs. That had been his line of thought after what he and Lambert had discovered. He imagines the witcher would agree with him, but he honestly doesn't care enough to go and ask the man. To the rest, however...

He knows he'll sound heartless in the face of Strange's wistful thinking towards helping the beleaguered populations of the past few worlds they've been to, but, while he can find their situations something to abhor, he can't quite bring himself to agree with him. So, he shrugs.

"And what could we possibly solve? The Host threw the Ringmaster out with as much ease as it threw us out. The—" The Agents, of course. It's still a memory he doesn't care to recall, face twisting in a grimace as he looks away. He's already tired, beaten and bruised. Why bring the Matrix up at all? Annoying. "Those machines," he finally gets out, forcing himself to carry on like he hadn't stopped before so abruptly. "Had total control of their world. We could barely use our magic there, so there'd be no helping them, anyhow. It's a noble thought to want to stay and help, Mr. Strange, but we would do better to focus on surviving this mess ourselves."

He always knew there would be some danger in joining a carnival that traveled the way this one did, run by a faerie, but he hadn't quite expected this much, this soon. Turns out he was really wrong there.

Edited 2017-03-21 01:54 (UTC)

He had to admit that Childermass was right—a sensation that was growing more and more annoying the more it happened. They couldn't do anything in the Matrix or the Celebration. There was the lack of magic in one and the lack of free will in the other. Strange even tried to do something about the Celebration with Ash, but he ended up getting caught up in the spell and spiraling away from the project to begin with.

And unlike Childermass, Strange wasn't entirely aware of the danger to begin with. Oh, surely it must have existed. But that's not the sort of thing one thinks about when they join a magical carnival in a fit of madness. Needless to say, the past few weeks have acted as a sobering realization for Strange.

"You're right," he can't help but admit, with a little frown. "Especially since it seems there's always to test us even in the more peaceful moments. The giant crab, or that magic at the masquerade, or—" Or getting shot, right when Strange had gotten used to the Matrix. But he's not mentioning that one. Unsurprisingly, Strange doesn't really want to dwell on the latter part of the Matrix either.

"Anyway, hopefully there aren't any other races of demons out there who want us dead for some reason. It would be just our luck to deal with a demonic invasion if the Ringmaster decides to make us play for a dimension of pacifists or something along those lines." He might need to actually ask the Ringmaster about that, once all of this has blown over.

"Hopefully," Childermass can only agree tiredly. One trip to hell was enough, having another hell unleash even more upon them would be a bit much, even if the scenario Strange came up with is, in its own way, a little funny. A world full of pacifists? Really? Would that make anyone who liked a fight a criminal? How quickly would most of the carnival be arrested?

But that's an entirely random tangent and it doesn't do anyone any good to waste much time dwelling on it. Well, no matter. In the end, he can only sigh and stop walking once they've reached the backyard. There, he turns back towards the other magician.

"Just try and remember not to play the hero. You're a reckless man, Mr. Strange, but there are people depending on you to get back home in one piece."

Like his wife, for example. There, at least he can use that as leverage against him now if he starts acting up too much. Want to save your wife, right? Can't do that dead, now can you?

"I know," Strange has to admit, with a little frown. "But you needn't worry. I'll try to keep as safe as possible, but I'm working on a plan to help account for all eventualities."

Which of course is most likely going to make Childermass worry. But there's really no way to say 'hey, don't worry, I'm thinking about asking the Ringmaster if she can do her freaky soul retrieval thing that she apparently can do' without making Childermass worry even further. Strange knows that his death is a possibility—he is a nightrunner, after all. So of course he's going to find a way to work around that.

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HELL OF A HANGOVER PT. 1

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one brief scene rewatch via netflix later....

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