lostcarnival | ⇨ HOME AGAIN

Entry tags:

⇨ HOME AGAIN

Who: Anyone!
When: Day 68 - Day 72
Where: Carnival grounds.
What: Everyone makes it back to the carnival after their adventure in hell. The Ringmaster makes a new lake to celebrate, apparently.
Warnings: A notable absence of torture.

TO HELL AND BACK↴

The rescuers and the liberated captives will emerge from the portal like bats out of hell. Much like their previous return, this arrival will be met with a flurry of medical activity as everyone gets their injuries seen to, particularly those that had been held prisoner within Morningstar's hell fortress. It will still be night when they arrive, and the rest of Day 68 will be clouded over completely, for the benefit of the new vampires as they get settled in. After the immediate panic is dealt with, the Ringmaster will disappear into the forest until the morning of Day 69. It will be raining off and on during her absence.

► RECOVERY: Unlike the last time, the Ringmaster will be supplying the carnival workers with some healing potions from her private hoard, given that most of the healers are already wounded or spent. Damage caused by iron poisoning will not be cured by healing magic or healing items though, unfortunately, and those who have spent a lot of time in contact with iron will take at least a week to fully recover. However, regular healing remedies like bandages and herbs may help speed things along if the patient is suited to them.

► A BRAND NEW LAKE: On the morning of Day 69, the Ringmaster will return the forest to announce that she's built a new lake into the carnival grounds, only a short trail's distance from the backyard. Unlike most of the forest, this area won't just lead you in circles when explored, meaning that it can actually be modified and developed as the workers see fit. The water is always clean and just the right temperature for swimming, though it gets a bit cooler the deeper you swim. At the far side of the lake, there is a warm, stone pathway leading up the side of the mountain, that will eventually take you to some bangin' hot springs. Brought to you mostly because the Ringmaster doesn't know how to say sorry with actual words. At least it gives you something to play with while you try to shake off the trauma.

► FRUITS OF VICTORY: On Day 70, all the workers who came to hell for the rescue mission will be given a gift from the Ringmaster. Each of them will receive a bright green, glowing seed, about the size of your thumbnail. She will tell you that, when planted, the seeds will swiftly grow into a small citrus tree, which will grow fruits with regenerative properties. More details about these plants will be written up in a separate post, but for now your characters can ogle them and decide if they are going to plant them or not.

► TAKE ME TO CHURCH: Staring on Day 71, the Ringmaster will be starting to work on removing the vampirism from those infected with it, which apparently involves a lot of... meditation? She will take the newbie vampires out into a shady area of the forest and encourage them to look inside themselves and attempt to separate themselves spiritually from their demonic beasts. How well you character masters her teachings over time will determine whether or not she is ultimately capable of stripping out your demon soul and returning you to life. Of course, not all demons are made equal, and some will be more difficult to separate than others...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

a: day 68-9, goddamn moron's gonna catch a cold
Normally Strange is the sort to be a little grumpy about rain. After all, any one can do weather magic, it's nothing special, what's so good about rain anyway. However, going from the indoors Celebration to the equally indoors hell dimension has made Strange realize just how much he likes things like 'trees' and 'rain' and 'a nice breeze'. So, he's spending as much time outside as possible. This also means that he's soaking wet due to the fact that it's raining.

He's picked up a couple of healing potions from the Ringmaster and is in theory trying to help but in practice being a bit of a bother. So sorry random people trying to recover or patch up those who need recovery, have a magician in your way. Do you need a bit of the healing potion? What's that sort of herb, do you need more of it grown, he can certainly help out with that. Of course he can make it stop raining around this area for a moment, there's no need to ask!

b: day 71, old habits die hard
Someday Strange will learn not to default to 'creepy spying' as a way to figure things out. Today isn't that day. Because there's something going on with the newbie vampires in the forest and that's interesting so Strange wants to find out what it is (and heaven forbid we do something like talking to people). So, creepy magical spying via his slightly dented and beat-up basin it is.

Strange is sitting on the grass behind his trailer--apparently he still doesn't want to go inside. The basin, filled with water sits next to him as Strange looks in it, frowning slightly as he scribbles down what he sees. As a shadow passes over the basin, Strange doesn't look up but instead grumbles to whoever's come to see just what one of the resident eccentrics is doing,

"You're in my light."

"Sorry."

One of the newbie vampires in question shuffles to the side a little until he's no longer obscuring the diffuse light penetrating the cloud cover. He watches Strange blandly for a few long moments.

"What are you doing?"

"Spying on that meeting with our vampiric coworkers in the forest." It's just said in a very matter-of-fact tone as Strange looks up at Jamie and then looks back down at the basin. And...they're still meditating. How exactly is that supposed to help? Is it some faerie thing?

"It's odd," he ends up remarking, a moment or so later, as he looks back up at Jamie with a frown. "The best way to remove vampirism seems to be meditating." Something which Strange is having a hard time grasping the concept of. Of course, he has absolutely zero chill to begin with, so he has a harder time than most grasping the concept of meditating for any reason.

The look Jamie gives Strange in response to this observation is hard to describe, but somewhere along the lines of "did you hear about how your favorite sports team bit it in the championships, boy that was really embarrassing to watch wasn't it, no one has ever fucked up that badly in the history of civilization." It is a look of weary suffering. Why can't he get away from this meditation bullshit.

"We're supposed to figure out which part of us is us and which part is the demon living in our soul," he says in a monotone. "Then the Ringmaster can rip the demon part out. And...eat it, probably."

When did this become his life. Unlife. Whatever.

Strange can't help but frown at the explanation. The Ringmaster was a massively powerful faerie, of course. He doubted others could rip out the demonic infection in the first place. But if they could...Strange had been trying to justify his killing a few vampires by telling himself it was needed, he had to help protect the carnival, but if something as (seemingly) easy as separating yourself from the demon was all it took to help remove the vampire, then maybe there was hope for those poor souls he killed.

Still, he's trying his best to not actually think about it. Repressing worked for the Matrix, it'll work for vampires as well! Let's give it up for not dealing with things! Looking over at Jamie, he gives the boy a slightly sarcastic smile, as Strange tries his hardest to seem like none of this is bothering him in the slightest.

"Well I assume that would be easy. The part of you that's you isn't the part that would want to drain people's blood."

That smirk might make him bristle a little, under ordinary circumstances, but Jamie just doesn't have the fortitude for it right now. Instead he just sighs (the reflex to sigh in exasperation apparently remains intact even if the body no longer has any need to breathe) and looks about a thousand years old.

"Seems like it'd be that way, huh." He doesn't sound dismissive at all, just. Tired. He pauses for a few moments, staring vacantly at some point to the side. He doesn't know how to articulate what the demon part feels like inside him, like something that's seeped so thoroughly into him that it's as though it's always been a part of him, something he can't extricate from the person he was before, and on some level he's ashamed to even try. He shrugs one shoulder, carelessly.

"It's a little more complicated than that."

Strange has always been someone who values knowledge. Unfortunately, at this moment, valuing knowledge is coming in the form of bothering poor Jamie to see more about what being a vampire feels like. Because really, he's got no idea how this sort of situation works to begin with. And if vampirism is more complicated than he realized...then perhaps he couldn't have saved those vampires even if he gave it his all.

There's just so many things Strange doesn't know about all of this and so many things that he wants to know about, so bothering's going to be the answer. He's still a little brusque in his tone as he asks Jamie,

"Complicated how? At least try to explain."

Pestering with questions??? UNHEARD OF.

Jamie's look flattens a little and he begrudgingly tries to come up with a way to express something that he can barely find words for, gesturing with one hand. "It's like...kinda..."

He trails off, looking from Strange to his scrying bowl to the ground on which it sits. There's a little dusty patch of earth nearby, shielded from the rain and still dry. Jamie crouches on his heels, pinches up some of the grit and dumps it into the water bowl, where it promptly dissolves, clouding the liquid and turning it murky. Then Jamie looks up, hands draped over his knees.

"There. Now get the dirt out." He blinks slowly and leans forward. "The dirt is the part that's not water," he adds, oh so helpfully.

As Jamie shoves the dirt in the basin, Strange opens his mouth as if to protest. He needs clean water, thank you very much, how can he scry when the water's this muddy? But as Jamie continues to explain, he nods, at least getting the general concept of the metaphor. Putting it into practice, however, is a different story. Because of course he can get the dirt out, he's a magician, thank you very much.

Except as Strange gestures at the water, as if to magically lift the dirt out of the water, he just keeps getting dirty water instead. Small droplets of dirty water magically levitate in the air a bit before Strange frowns, they fall back into the basin, and he tries the spell again. It's the same results, dirty water instead of the dirt itself. This is getting annoying.

"I'm starting to see your point," he grumbles. But, stubborn asshole that he is, Strange continues to try and separate the dirt from the water, trying to magically tease out a strand of dirt-free water from the muddy center. It's not working. He's still going to try and magic the dirt out as he continues talking to Jamie. "Of course, that doesn't change the fact that you have memories of who you were prior to being a vampire. Can't you draw upon those for inspiration or something like that?"

Childermass isn't the most unfortunate among them, though definitely still worse for wear. Once he's handed Joker off, the medical tent is where he'll be heading off to... or, more like, would be, provided a certain magician didn't pop up in his path, trying to be helpful. He stops, a bloody handkerchief pressed to his nose as he's still dealing with bleeding on and off (among other things yet to be determined in past threads, but, you know, let's use our imagination), and squints at Strange.

Honestly, vision has been a little blurry since prying Joker out of that damn cage, thanks to an errant knee to the face, but he can still tell who that is.

"Move," he tells him, blatantly grumpy, and Strange has about two point five seconds to do just that before Childermass shoulders past him.

Strange is also a bit beat up due to injuries that will eventually be sustained thanks to Psionic. But no matter how he gets beaten up, dodging lasers is a lot different than a knee to the face so he's probably not actively bleeding as much as Childermass is.

He doesn't move and Childermass shoves right past him...and so logically, Strange trails after the man like the nosy bastard he is. "Is that blood?" Which he realizes a moment later is a stupid question, of course it's blood, what else could that be.

"What on Earth happened?" Which again, is a bit of a stupid question, but it's one that Childermass has to deal with as Strange just follows him towards the medical tent.

"Joker disagreed with being rescued," Childermass says as an explanation, adding after another second, "Aggressively."

He doesn't suspect he needs to explain it that much further, apart from, perhaps, why Joker aggressively disagreed with it. That would become apparent should Strange run into the stage manager, regardless. For now, he'll just keep going, although at some point along the way he pauses and stands in the rain, looking left, then right.

Which way...? Give him a moment, he was kneed pretty hard. The nose isn't quite the only thing that's been rattled.

Aggressively. Well, considering that he ran into a carnival member at the masquerade who were also aggressively against the idea of being rescued, he's got a feeling he knows just what sort of aggressive Joker was.

Thankfully, Strange recognizes the other man's confusion fairly quickly. Joker might have given Chidlermass a knock upside the head as well as on the nose. It's his turn to push his way in front as Strange gestures for Childermass to follow.

"To the left," Strange responds, as he starts to head off that way. Childermass might be rattled but he still should be able to follow Strange as he leads the way to the medical tent. "I think Zecora's still out of sorts, but I should be able to find something for the pain. Is the nose broken or is it just a nosebleed?"

After all, he actually knows how to deal with the latter. Granted, Strange hasn't had a nosebleed in literal years, but it's knowledge he hasn't forgotten.

"Broken," he says, "And I have no idea if I managed to set it right on my own or not..."

Because, of course, he tried. It's Childermass, why wouldn't he? The pain is a problem, but it's far from the worse he's dealt with and at least he can walk this one off. He follows Strange to the left, whatever fleeting moment of irritation he had at the other magician barging on ahead coming and going as quick as the raindrops falling on them. If he can't remember the way on his own, it's for the best.

Soon enough, the medical tent is coming into view, looming ahead. Funny how he'd only just been here, what, a day ago? Two?

Strange isn't surprised in the slightest that Childermass tried to set his own broken nose because again, it's Childermass, of course he did. And once again he's cursing the fact that he doesn't know anything remotely close to healing magic. Rain, scrying, and mirrors aren't any good once someone's busted their nose.

Thankfully, they reach the medical tent. Strange waits for a moment before he holds open the door/tent flap/whatever the tent actually has for a door for Childermass to enter. It's annoying how intimately they're getting to know this place.

"Hello?" Strange calls out, before looking back at Childermass to make certain the other man's coming. "Is anyone in? I've someone with a broken nose, definitely bleeding as well."

For better or worse, it’s a voice familiar to both magicians that calls back, tone slightly tinged with impatience.

"You and everyone else in this damn carnival. Hold on!" Something clatters as a drawer is shoved open, but despite the instruction it doesn't take long from Lambert to pop out from the shadows, tying something off on his hand. The witcher doesn't look too different from the last time either of them had seen him, still sporting a few errant bite marks and slightly singed at the edges, but he's shed his weapons and his armor and he's all business as he sizes up the two of them, hand on a hip. It doesn't take a sage to see which of them is sporting the broken nose, though that doesn't mean you're off the hook, Strange, but it's the magician from Yorkshire he'll beckon to step forward.

"Let's have a look, then. Any injuries caused by iron?" The question's directed at both of them, though.

Of course he's coming along, Strange, this had been his destination from the start. Right up until he sees who's tending the medical tent in Zecora's place, anyway. He steps in and turns to see who it is and—

"There must be someone else," Childermass says, still holding the handkerchief to his nose and immediately regretting his decision to not just let his nose be. It would probably heal fine on its own.

"Oh come now!" Strange can't help but remark with a frown, as he looks from Childermass to Lambert then back to Childermass again. He is straight up out of the loop with regards to their Celebration history so this at least looks like Childermass being exceedingly petty.

"He's a nurse, Childermass, do you want this to be fixed or not?"

Look, the other option is Steven drooling on Childermass's nose, this is the best option. So don't mind Strange as he just surreptitiously tries to get between Childermass and the exit.

To be fair to Childermass, the witcher with his sleeves rolled up and two fingers obviously splinted looks more like Lambert getting ready to pick a fight and break noses, not fix them. He raises a brow as Strange repositions himself -- not sure what you're planning to do with that, buddy -- but tilts his head, squinting up at Childermass.

"I'm sure it can't make your face look any worse," he says, reassuringly. Looks pretty swollen from what he can see, which isn't much, but a broken nose serious enough to actual go to the medical tent for instead of just toughing it out? Must be rough.

"Going to be a problem if you can't breathe through it, though. Sit down and let me see."

Surreptitiously with Strange means very obviously, as far as Childermass is concerned. He looks back towards the other magician, almost offended by it. He certainly hasn't been able to stop him before, he's not sure why he's planning on trying again. He won't, however, leave.

As irritated as he is at Lambert, he does have a point. He's only mostly sure he set it to rights himself but mostly isn't actually good enough. He breathes out a sigh — or tries to, anyway. All it actually does is make him wince. But most importantly, he will step over to the nearest empty cot or what have you, whatever they have open to sitting on in here, and he does take a seat.

When he pulls the handkerchief away, the blood has mostly dried, though there was definitely a lot of it. It is swollen and the bruising is already leaving its livid mark across his face. It's only slightly crooked, there are signs that he must have fiddled around with it himself before.

"I'm sure it wouldn't cause that much of a problem," he still grouches, if only to disagree with the witcher.

Strange isn't really that far off. He is feeling very petty right now, just not enough to actually leave in a huff or anything ridiculous like that.

Surreptitiously means that Strange was very proud of how sneakily he managed to position himself between Childermass and the door until Childermass gives him a Look and he can't help but roll his eyes slightly instead. Well he tried.

He's not entirely sure what to do in this situation. Of course he's sticking around to see that Childermass actually gets healed in the first place. It wouldn't surprise Strange if the other magician tried to cut and run, especially since he's become all the more grumpy.

So don't mind the nosy magician in the background, watching Childermass and Lambert as the examination of Childermass's nose begins. He still doesn't know what to do but well, he can at least watch. And really, Strange has absolutely no medical background but even he can tell that the bruising looks rather nasty. He's quiet for now but inevitably Strange'll have an inane contribution to add to the conversation sooner or later. He takes a few steps closer towards the two, trying his hardest not to get in the way while still seeing what exactly Lambert's going to do.

Fortunately, the examination doesn't seem to require Lambert touching anything, just a moment of glancing over the extent of the injury once Childermass is seated and eventually pronouncing his diagnosis.

"Hm." Very informative. With that, Lambert steps over to retrieve a washcloth, soaking it with some clean water and then wringing it out and handing it to Strange.

"Make that cold, like you did with Koel's chains," is what he instructs, briskly. "We'll need ice to take the swelling down." Oh, and what swelling there will be, for he's stepping back to Childermass and setting his hands on his face, fingers delicately braced against either side of his jaw and his thumbs lightly resting on either side of his nose.

"I'm going to realign your nose, and it's going to hurt," Lambert says, simply. "On the count of three. One, two--"

The delicate grip suddenly turns to iron, keeping Childermass from shifting his head. With a short, sharp motion and the mild sudden crunch of shifting cartilage (louder in Childermass's own ears than it is in Strange's, if only because it's his own sinuses involved), Lambert pushes in and up with his thumbs to smooth the last of the crookedness out.

Edited 2017-03-22 03:15 (UTC)

Thankfully, Childermass had been expecting this to hurt, regardless of who had been manning the medical tent.

Thankfully because he isn't surprised by the warning and he's already reached down to grip the edge of the cot he's seated on, if only to keep himself from jolting too badly when Lambert jerks the cartilage back into place. There is a cringe, of course, and his shoulders and back do stiffen at the sharp jab of pain, but that's about all he does in response. While his eyes will water some purely from how much that hurt, he's ever a stoic man and he's certainly gritting his teeth through this one, same as anything else.

The problem with Strange's magic is the same problem with Strange: it's not subtle in the slightest. As Lambert instructs him to make the washcloth cold, Strange nods, closes his eyes, and starts to mutter. The washcloth certainly becomes cold, but the cold also spreads out from where Strange is standing. The temperature around the three men rapidly drops as patterns of frost start to appear on the floor and any liquids around them become in danger of freezing solid.

As he hears that small crunch, Strange opens his eyes, with a little wince...which only deepens as he sees that he's frozen various things around him. Ah. Whoops. Look, the washcloth is cold, that's what matters, just ignore the fact that one of the cots is straight up frozen to the floor now.

"Here," he says, as he offers Childermass the practically frozen washcloth.

"Fuck! I said make it cold," he snaps, teeth clenched against a chatter while he pulls his hands back from Childermass, breath puffing in front of his face. "Not make us cold." It doesn't help that he's the most underdressed man in the room, that's for certain. Englishmen and all their layers... "Put that on your face, keep it there for twenty minutes," he adds sourly at Childermass, stepping away from the cot and sizing up the damage that Strange has done.

There, where a few beakers over an extinguished burner have been frosted over. With a wave of his fingers, the flame revives itself, jumping up to begin thawing itself. A few more flicks of his fingers light up candles he's set up on the table to work, more burners that don't have things set on them. The illumination isn't really necessary with his eyes, probably a fire hazard in a tent, but Lambert doesn't care, he's freezing. If he didn't think he'd burn down the cot trying to defrost it with Igni, he'd do that too.

It'll also mean that Strange gets to be the target of his ire, now, and he rounds on the magician, teeth bared. "Your turn," he says, faux-sweetly, advancing on him. "You got banged up a few times back there, better make sure you don't have a concussion."

Edited 2017-03-22 14:19 (UTC)

Jonathan Strange | ota!

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a, day 68

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