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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Strange winces as well because whoops, he didn't know about that. He shoots Jimmy an apologetic look because, again, terribly sorry, hopefully Castiel didn't hear that.

He casts an idle glance to the oven timer: the toast should be ready to turn over fairly soon. As he continues the conversation, Strange looks around for an oven mitt or a rag or something he can use to pull the actual rack out.

"You know, I'm perfectly fine with denial and breakfast. It'll go wonderfully with the crankiness and inability to sleep I'm already battling." Still, it's said in a 100% teasing tone. Strange knows that nobody here is in top form, might as well joke about it slightly to prevent from actually acknowledging it.

"Denial and breakfast it is." The mushrooms are finished, and set aside as Jimmy starts cracking eggs into a skillet. "I can't say that I'm broken up about putting Celebration behind us, with or without the vampire attack. The place just never sat well with me." He shakes his head as he cracks eggs into the pan. "I mean, part of it was... before. With the angel. But the place just seemed too perfect."

Fortunately, there are little metal racks on some of the cabinet doors, with towels hanging off them. And the little *ding!* from the stove indicating that it's time to flip the bread. "So, tell me about your world. What's it like?" Stories of home have to be better than the reality in front of them, right?

"To start with, I am most likely from your past. I arrived here from the year 1817." It's probably not that surprising. There were a few obvious tells: Strange always tended towards clothing of a more old-fashioned type of style, rarely used any sort of modern slang, and just generally gave off the air of someone a bit out of time compared to most of the carnival. Still, this would hopefully explain things the next time Strange gets confused by something relatively modern. Opening the oven, Strange gingerly pulled out the bread. He had a towel protecting his hands, of course, but he really doesn't know how to cook, everything's going to be slow and careful no matter what.

He continued to talk as he turned the toast over, equally slow and gingerly. "As I've mentioned to you, my world has magicians. There are only two officially recognized magicians, though there's certainly more that are not recognized." At least, there's one more: Childermass still counted as a magician. "There aren't any vampires or angels or anything like that. The only magical being my world's had in contact with are faeries."

Having flipped the toast over, Strange carefully pushes it back in the oven before setting the timer for five minutes.

"I don't know if it's mine specifically, but I know what you mean. I'm...." His face scrunches up as he tries to figure out just how much difference there was. Okay, so he's having a 'math is hard' day. "Not quite two hundred years ahead of you? Less than a decade short." Eggs cracked, he whisks them together in the skillet, adding a little salt & pepper, before placing the pan on the heat.

"My world had a lot of various supernatural creatures, but yours sounds better, honestly. Safer, even with a war on." The end of the world, the eternal pissing contest between Michael and Lucifer, all of the other random supernatural things running around trying to kill people? Yeah, he'll take one kind of supernatural being and a war over that, thanks.

But the sound of the timer and the oven door opening and closing breaks his attention. "Thanks! There should be a..." He glances around while he starts nudging the edges of the omelette back into the pan. "Grey tub.. Over that way." A waved right elbow indicates the direction. "With the silverware. Glasses and plates too."

"At least with our war, it's only between men." War was war no matter what. But Strange can only imagine how much easier it would be to only fight humans, instead of grappling with humans, angels, demons, and the rest. Who knows how different the campaign in the peninsula would have turned were that to happen.

As Jimmy directs him, Strange walks right over towards the grey tub, though he can't help but peek at the omelette for a moment. Now that looks delicious. Maybe he can ask Jimmy how exactly he made it after they eat. After all, it would be a good idea if he knew how to cook something.

Getting out the silverware, glasses, and plates, Strange sets them down on the counter as he does so. "I imagine the treatment of magic makes it safer as well. In my world, English magic is supposed to be 'respectable.' That means one duels it out over periodicals and book reviews instead of through magical means." It's obvious from Strange's tone of voice that he has mixed ideas about respectability.

Jimmy nods as he works, leaving the omelette to cook for a little bit while he grates some cheese. "Forgot to do this before I got going. No idea where my head is today." A polite lie. Jimmy's thoughts are hyper-focused on the angel walking around in the tan trenchcoat. But he's not admitting that as he grates a pile of cheese onto the cutting board.

Jimmy blinks at the thought of having a duel at all, and has to remind himself that when Strange is from, duels are still very much a thing. It's still kind of baffling to think of getting into one over a book review, though. "I guess that's taking 'publish or perish' a bit too literally. But did you? Publish anything?" Yay for shameless conversation changes, because man, Jimmy can not imagine what home would be like with magic.

"I did," Strange can't help but remark, seeming a little proud. "I've published various articles and reviews, but my magnum opus was my book: A History and Practice of English Magic."

A book which at least in Strange's mind doesn't exist anymore. After all, all copies were destroyed in an act of sheer pettiness from his former mentor. But, then again, if the Ringmaster could pull people here from different times, perhaps she could dip back into his timeline and pick out his book?

Strange just stops moving the silverware for a moment as he thinks. Then, it's as if he realizes the conversation's fallen to a standstill. He starts setting out dinnerware again as he starts talking. "I probably drove my poor editors mad--I've a bad habit of waiting until a few days before the essay is actually due to start on the thing."

Jimmy laughs as he starts dumping the veggies and cheese into the pan. "If it makes you feel any better, it's not just you. I was terrible for last minute papers when I was in school. Go in the next day and be so tired I couldn't see straight, but the paper was done. And... mostly comprehensible. Probably. I think."

"And.... Plates, please." After they're passed over, Jimmy folds, flips, and cuts the omelette in half with his spatula before plating it up. "And ta-daa! One omelette with mushrooms, green peppers and cheese. Grab your beverage of choice from the fridge, and breakfast is served." And things might look a little better after breakfast. Or at least, it'll be easier to think on a full stomach.

As Strange passes over the plates, he can't help but tease a bit about their shared last minute tendencies. "It's reassuring to hear that bad habits are consistent across all worlds. I'd hate running into someone from the world where everybody has their act together."

And man does that omelette smell really good. His mouth can't help but water as he looks over at the omelette. He's happy Jimmy didn't get yanked to hell to begin with, but right now? He's extra happy that isn't the case.

When Jimmy tells him to get a beverage, Strange walks over to the fridge. Taking a pitcher out, he pours himself a glass of water, before turning to look at Jimmy. "What do you want to drink, by the way? I'm already here, I might as well get it."

"My money would be on everyone else being able to tolerate it for about half an hour before someone tries to choke them." He grins and is only mostly kidding. "I think that much perfection would drive us all bonkers in a hurry."

"Orange juice, please." The plates are set out on another work area that's high enough to fake at being a dining table, and he grabs containers of salt & pepper from another shelf. "And breakfast is served." Jimmy drags a pair of stools over and takes a seat.

"It would certainly drive me mad," Strange idly remarks, as he grabs the pitcher of orange juice. Pouring Jimmy a glass, he puts the pitcher back in the fridge then walks over towards the 'table', both glasses in hand.

"Again, thank you so much for the food." Taking a seat, Strange offers Jimmy his glass. And then...without really waiting or any sort of conversation or what have you, he just straight up starts eating that omelette, cutting off a fairly large bite with his fork.

He really didn't expect to be this hungry. And, based on the expression on Strange's face, it seems to be a pretty good omelette.

The glass is taken with a nod. "Thanks." And he gives the salt a few shakes over his omelette before digging in too. Seeing Strange's reaction brings a smile to his face, though. Maybe he can teach Strange how to cook a little in exchange.

"Don't worry about it. I don't think either of us is really going to sleep, so getting something to eat gives us a little more energy to keep faking it without breaking out the coffee. Though we've got plenty of that too, if you'd like a cup." They're both mostly running on fumes and stubbornness for now, but anything to keep the momentum going.

Thankfully, Strange finishes chewing and swallowing before he talks. "Perhaps later. Once I've finished with this meal, I'm going to see if I can at least get a few more hours of sleep."

He's not much of a coffee drinker, but even Strange has figured out the wonderful effects of caffeine by now. The coffee will be for after he inevitably gives up and is absolutely unable to sleep.

"Good luck. Already had my go at sleeping, and I'm giving it up as a lost cause. Maybe tomorrow will be better, I'll keep a pot going for you, though. If you like." Another bite and another thoughtful pause, before Jimmy can't help but try to take on his own elephant in the room.

"The angel being here isn't helping anything. I'm second guessing myself all over the place. 'What if it doesn't work?', 'What if I can't do it?', 'What if I'm just making it all worse down the road?" Jimmy looks down, poking the omelette around on his plate. "And if he finds out what I'm up to, he's bound to try and stop me."

"I'm sorry for dumping this on you and thank you for listening, but this is huge and I'm not sure if I'm capable of pulling it off."

Jimmy second-guessing himself is met by Strange's unwavering faith in the man and his arrogance that he could actually succeed in teaching Jimmy magic. So, after Jimmy finishes talking, Strange sets his fork down as he looks at the other man.

"If it doesn't work and you can't do it, then it simply doesn't work and you can't do it. But we won't know if you can learn magic if you don't try in the first place." It's all said in a matter-of-fact tone. If he can't do it, then he can't do it. But it's certainly worth the effort to try and see if he can.

"As for the angel, if he tries to stop you, then I'll simply try and stop him in return. There's no crime in learning."

Strange actually has no idea just what he would do to fight an angel in the first place. But that's something he can figure out later!

Jimmy blanches at the discussion of Strange trying to stop Castiel. "No!" He winces after, that was a lot more forceful than he'd wanted.

"Sorry, sorry. That was... I don't want anyone else getting hurt because of me." He's overreacting, but Strange getting hurt because of him too is unacceptable. "I'm being paranoid, I know. I just.... Be careful, okay?"

Well Strange certainly wasn't expecting that. He looks over at Jimmy, confused for a second. Anyone else getting hurt because of him...something must obviously have happened in his world. But what? Strange hasn't the slightest idea what, who, or just how they got hurt in the first place.

Still confused, he gives Jimmy a little nod. "Of course I'll be careful," he says, knowing full well that he's rubbish at being careful to begin with. "But I have to ask. Did something happen with the angel back in your world?"

".... Yeah. At one point, he got dragged off to Heaven for some kind of discipline, and I ran. Went back to my family, and it'd been a year gone. And everything the angel had gotten into followed me back home." The fork is set down, breakfast forgotten as Jimmy talks.

"A demon possessed my wife, and it used her to shoot me. I was dying on the floor of a warehouse, and the angel shows up again, possessing my daughter. And Castiel made it sound like he was giving me a choice to die and leave her with him." No choice at all, in Jimmy's mind. Leaving Claire with the angel was unthinkable, regardless of whether or not he'd been dying.

Strange can't help but pause at that. His breakfast is forgotten as well as he listens to Jimmy talk. After everything the other man had been through, to finally be free of that angel, only to deal with the loss of his wife and possible loss of his child? Nobody should have to suffer though that.

That poor man.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Strange quietly remarks. Because it is. He doesn't have any children himself but Strange knows that if he ever does, like hell he's going to lose them or let them suffer like that. He doesn't really know what else to say, but he must say something. There's a pause before Strange continues. "It's...certainly nothing like what you've experienced but I've lost my wife as well." It's immensely more complicated than that but now isn't the time or the place. "So if you ever want to talk about your family, I'll listen."

"It's...." The breakfast fork is toyed with as Jimmy starts talking. "I'm going to try to change it. Go back and stop myself from saying yes." He glances around, as if expecting the angel to interrupt them at any given second.

"As you know, this place doesn't just travel in space, it can travel in time too. And if I can go back. Go back to when I agreed to the angel's request in the first place, then I can stop everything else from happening." There's no hiding the desperation as he looks over at Strange. "It's stupid and risky and there are so many ways it could go wrong, but I have to try. Just, please. Don't tell the angel." Jimmy's definitely paranoid now, but it can't hurt to ask.

Strange can't help but grimace as Jimmy mentions traveling in time. He knows next to nothing about time travel, but he's heard enough lectures about keeping the timeline safe, keep things in order, I'm not going to tell you this because the timeline, and so on from Childermass that the matter's a sore subject.

"Of course I won't tell him," he responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Why would he? Lord knows that if anybody deserved a second chance, it would be Jimmy. "I'd offer my help but I'm afraid I know nothing with regards to time magic. Sans and Papyrus might, though."

After all, didn't they mention something about time travel when Strange bothered everybody about how they died? He'd imagine Jimmy would want to keep this relatively quiet, but if he wanted to ask somebody, why not one of them?

"I'm less worried about the time magic, mostly because I won't be actually doing any of it." There will be plenty of timeline shenanigans, though. So it might be worth it to ask.

"As soon as the angel figures out what I'm trying to do, he's going to try and stop me. And I've got five minutes. That's it. Five minutes convince myself that everything the angel's been telling me is either out of date, or someone's been stringing the angel along, and he's feeding me the same line." Jimmy rests his elbows on the table, clasping his hands in a gesture reminiscent of praying, if he had any faith left.

"Talking isn't an option. I was with him for years, and the most conversation we had was the sales pitch at the beginning, and the.... exchange in the warehouse." Another drink of orange juice to try and settle his nerves, or at least get his composure back. "He was convinced that he knew best, knew what he was doing, right up until Lucifer killed us both."

Jimmy looks up at Strange and manages another attempt at 'I am totally fine.' "I'm sorry for dumping this on you, and thank you for listening. It's... the magnitude of it. It gets to you."

That omelette hasn't been touched in a few minutes. Unsurprisingly, the conversation is making Strange lose a bit of his appetite. This is a heavy conversation and one that Strange isn't entirely sure he'd be much help with in the first place. How set in stone was the past?

Still, the least he can do is offer a supporting hand and listen to Jimmy. And there are some things about this plan that Strange understands perfectly. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to go back and fix things, especially if they were as drastic as Jimmy's situation?

At Jimmy's apology, Strange shook his head. "There's no apology needed. Really, I'm glad you told someone. I can only imagine how badly something like that can settle on the conscious." Except...he can't imagine, he knows. Strange is a big ol'hypocrite who really should talk to other people about his problems, but is instead filing them all away for him to deal with on his own.

"And the more you think about it, the more time you have to sit and pick it all apart. Worst case scenarios, and everything ending." Jimmy sighs and shakes his head. The Lord's Work. Chosen for something better. He hadn't fully thought about the ramifications then and he didn't care about them now. Jimmy had a shot at fixing this, and damned if he wasn't going to try.

"So. He's here. Have you gotten a look at him yet?"

"I have." And oh, Strange can't help but be a bit grumpy about this part. Their first conversation went incredibly awful, mostly because Strange took personal offense at being called a witch. A witch! He was a magician, thank you very much, one of the greatest magicians of the age, not a woman from children's stories.

"I don't think I like him very much." The angel did make some valid points in their conversation, of course. But stopped clocks are right twice a day. There was just something about his personality that 100% rubbed Strange the wrong way.

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