⇨ HOME AGAIN

[ringleaders]

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...

Comments

Lambert | OTA

[whattaprick]

medical tent

Lambert's skills are entirely useless for dealing with anything seriously life-threatening, unless you want to risk ingesting one of his potions (perhaps luckily for everyone, he's out of those right now anyway). However, if you've got broken bones or iron-inflicted injuries that need addressing, he's got two steady hands and basic medical supplies, and he's set up shop on one end of the medical tent, away from where more grievous injuries are being tended. He's wrapped bandages and a splint around a couple of the fingers on his off-hand, and he has recently-healed-over bites and scratches on his forearms, but he doesn't seem to be moving with any pain.

"What hurts?" is the matter-of-fact question he'll ask anyone peeking into the tent to seek assistance. "If you got turned, I have no idea how to fix that, so you're on your own there." As far as triage goes, it's not the most thorough or even most compassionate effort, but it's a place to start at least?

lakeside & hot springs
Once the lake is in place, it's not terribly long before Lambert can be found standing on its shore, staring out at the clear water with a thoughtful expression and a slightly manic glint in his eye brighter than the sunlight shining off the edges of his newly-acquired golden horns

"Damn, wish I had my boat," he says unprompted. Sorry, random passerby, you're being accosted into conversation now. "I could've gone fishing."

Are there even fish to be had in the lake? Well, that would be the point of getting in a boat and finding out. The Lambert method of fishing, though, is a particularly explosive one, so maybe it's for the best that's not an option right now...

Later, he can be found soaking away his aches in the hot springs -- nearly dozing off in the heat, really, which leaves him sweating and red in the face, but damn does it do a body good, after the workout it's been put through. Submerged to the neck in water, his one grudging concession to modesty has been to keep his breeches on.

"Could have used one of these at Kaer Morhen," he says drowsily, head tipped back enough to rest against the edge of the pool behind him. "Would have made getting our asses kicked worth it." He doesn't seem to have realized he's spoken, caught halfway to slipping off into an unintended nap.

gardening
Lambert doesn't have a boat, but he does have a shovel he scavenged from somewhere, and too much restless energy to burn off at this point. He's taken tent poles and string, using them to stake out a roughly rectangular area beside the lake shore, and he's now attacking the ground like he has a personal vendetta against it, breaking up the soil and turning it over. The recent rains mean the ground is soft, and it leaves his pants and boots streaked with mud, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Eventually, he'll end up with three elevated garden plots and a small, raised mound. The last one is what he digs a hole in with his thumb and drops the glowing seed from the Ringmaster into, using a hand to absently pat the dirt back over it. Task done, he leans on his shovel and surveys his handiwork critically.

"Well, it's a start."

Hot springs

[amusicaladventure]

"TELL me about it," Ash said, more of a groan than anything from where she was submerged up to her neck nearby. Her voice held a distinct rumbling undercurrent of a purr, that continued on even when she wasn't speaking. "This is better than a Jacuzzi, even. What were you getting your ass kicked at Care Morehens for?"

this thread is probably going to be a countdown to her kicking him in the face, RIP lambert

[whattaprick]

That voice was a lot more feminine than anything Lambert was expecting to pipe up by him, but it's not like the hot springs are properly sectioned off or anything. It was enough to make him open his eyes and take a look at her, recognizing her from the last of that fight back in Hell. A singing cat girl was hard to forget.

"To building character," was what he answered instead, stretching lazily. He didn't bother to correct the name; who cared if she messed it up? He was glad to see the back of that place anyway.

"I thought cats hated water."

10, 9...

[amusicaladventure]

"Sure. But I'm just a catperson. Lots less fur to get wet." She lifted an arm out of the water to make the point; sure enough, no fur. "The tail can be annoying sometimes, but for a relaxation like this it's sooo worth it."

[whattaprick]

She's definitely more person than cat, that's for sure. Lambert's gaze tracked the motion of her arm with a casual interest, head tipped slightly to the side. He wasn't so far from catlike himself, with those yellow eyes, but rather than fur the only other animalistic attribute he possessed was the pair of golden horns slowly growing out on his head.

"Did you get that before or after you joined the Carnival?" Maybe it's rude to ask so directly, but Lambert's a rude kind of guy. Here, it's hard to tell what people came with and what they got after, as motley an assortment as they are.

[amusicaladventure]

Ash had lost track of how many times she'd been asked that, but luckily the question didn't bother her at all. For the record, no one ELSE had thought it was rude either.

"Pure natural. I haven't changed a bit since I've been here, not yet anyway. This is 100% original model catgirl."

[whattaprick]

"And here I thought the changing was mandatory for practically everyone." Lambert smirked. He was only going off the people he'd seen in his time here, and there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to when or why the changes occurred. "You didn't change when we were under all that water, either?"

[amusicaladventure]

"Oh yeah, I got a big ol' fish tail. It just didn't stick." And here Ash leaned back slightly to stick one of her legs up in the air, water streaming down it as she wiggled her toes demonstratively. "I'm sure my time is coming, but maybe being magical by nature is slowing it down."

[whattaprick]

"I can see that." A leg was a lot more interesting to watch than an arm, naturally, so it should come as no surprise that Lambert's eyes followed it with the same casual attention as he had earlier. That last bit, though, successfully derailed his attention.

"'Magical by nature'? What's that supposed to mean?"

[amusicaladventure]

If he's gonna keep watching like that, then she just might be folding her arms behind her head and letting physics and biology take their course. Of course, posing didn't mean she stopped talking. "Catpeople are inherently magical. It's in our essence. It's why a lot of them make good witches or warlocks, and why I have music magic."

[whattaprick]

Lambert's not about to complain about a free show, as long as he doesn't have to actually do anything. Between the Celebration, Hell, and everything else, he doesn't want much else but to do a solid amount of nothing for the next few hours.

"I've met cats and I've met mages, but a cat mage is a new one. Don't usually get along with either." And that description of the whole magical essence thing doesn't sound all that different from how cats are back home. There'd been a lecture from Vesemir at some point, something about cats absorbing magical energy. Most cats hated witchers on sight, though the reasons never really were all that clear to him. Maybe because they could pick up on something unnatural in them -- the magic that had irreversibly changed their physiology.

[amusicaladventure]

The important thing was that he noticed she was attractive. It was about damn time, in her opinion, that someone around here did.

"Well, lucky for you I'm the best of both worlds, including sparkling scintillating personality. And so far you don't seem so bad..." She shrugged a little, without unfolding her arms. "It takes all kinds, both for mages and for not. You're not some anti-magic crusader or something, I hope."

[whattaprick]

That's Lambert, always happy to provide his civic duty of shameless ogling. Her endorsement of her own assets, though, got a snort of amusement out of the witcher.

"Lucky me." He lifted a hand out of the water to wave it lazily in the air. "Nah, I don't get paid enough to tangle with mages. Unless the Ringmaster asks me to, I guess. Otherwise I'm just your run-of-the-mill monster hunter."

Some people had taken issue with that wording before, but they're not here ... and to be honest, Lambert didn't much care. He was what he was.

gardening

[dorkypantsuit]

He see's Lambert from further away shoveling and wanders closer out of curiosity. He see's the sticks and the string and the way he's used them to mark off a patch of land. He can tell he's digging, he assumes for flowers or something maybe, but it seem's like such a useless gesture here.

"What are you doing?"

[whattaprick]

It honestly feels like forever and a day since he last really spoke to the Foreman, but the voice isn't hard to recognize. This is probably the first time they've seen each other that wasn't in passing around the Carnival, though, so Lambert still has to take a minute to place him.

"Making a garden." Sort of. He eyes his handiwork with a clear level of dissatisfaction so far, then will admit: "A shitty one."

[dorkypantsuit]

"Why?" he asks, sounding and looking even more confused than before. If Lambert wasn't even satisfied with the result of his efforts, it was hard to see why he'd even bother in the first place.

[whattaprick]

Lambert shrugs. "Been meaning to. Couldn't find some of the plants I need for potions in the Carnival's supplies, and figured it would make more sense to ask for seeds and grow them instead of asking to get supplies from my world." He jerks a thumb at the pile of earth at one end. "And I needed a place to plant that."

[dorkypantsuit]

Psi nods, figuring that was a more interesting reason than any other he was likely to get. And by that, he of course assumes he means the strange seeds the ringmaster had been seen handing out. Psi hadn't received one, but he'd seen some of the others idly wondering about them. He moves around, looking at the dirt.

"What's so shitty about it?" He asks, curious. He'd never been one for agriculture back home. That was the job of someone with psionics much weaker than his.

[whattaprick]

"Don't do much gardening?" Lambert returns back, amused. He is the Foreman, so he'd rather expected him to have something to say about it. Then again, he is the clearly-alien, fae-changed Foreman who apparently takes issue with the whole killing monsters before coming to the Carnival thing, so maybe not.

"There's just a lot of work to do. Ground needs to be more even, need to pull out the grass and work it into the soil, gotta find compost, raise the beds higher..." He trails off, snorts. "We'll see how much of that I actually get done before I get bored. Or something else gets pissed at the Ringmaster, kidnaps a bunch of us, and fucks 'em up."

You know, like he's not talking to one of that 'bunch' right now.

[dorkypantsuit]

He shakes his head. He doesn't do much gardening, and he's not really embarrassed by admitting it. There just wasn't a need of it here, even for the foreman. Cooks dealt with getting food there own way, so there wasn't need of one for food, and Zecora of course had her own stock of herbs and brews so it wasn't needed for that either. Maybe if so much of the landscape wasn't magic he'd have a little more knowledge about maintaining plant-life at least, but it isn't, so he really is clueless.

For example, when Lambert says he has to pull the grass and raise the beds, well Psi doesn't really get what either of those things would accomplish. And compost was just garbage right? Plant garbage? Seemed like gardening was a lot more complicated than he'd first thought. He's about to say something, either to ask more questions or maybe even offer to help, but Lambert's last comment ends up sort of throwing him for a loop.

Kidnaps a bunch of us and fucks 'em up. He visibly winces, the comment reminding him all to well of the ugly bruises he still has around his neck and wrists and the way his skin blisters there from the iron. For a moment he has the thought to cover his broken horn tip, with his hand, but he knows how stupid and useless a gesture that would be. All it would do was make it even more obvious how self-conscious he was being about his own injuries.

"...Right..." The statement is nothing more than filler, as he tries to think of what he was going to say before. Something about gardening? It's hard to focus on conversations when his brain is intent on bringing him back to that cell at the slightest provocation. He stands there for a moment just looking confused and upset.

"...What were we talking about?"

[whattaprick]

Lambert's busy with his hands, in any case, so the lapse into the silence is filled with the sound of earth being overturned, the tip of the spade digging through the soil. It's slow going since the thing's entirely made out of wood -- no sense in having one made of iron around here.

"Gardening," he answers, shortly, but the witcher won't dwell on that subject for long, instead launching directly into another topic, eyes still on the ground.

"Iron's a son of a bitch," he says, matter-of-fact. "You been using anything on those or not?" In the shuffle after their return, it had largely been a bunch of potion-dosing and binding of the most serious injuries. Bruises and blisters seem relatively minor in the grand scheme of things, and are probably an easier fix than their psyches.

[dorkypantsuit]

Iron; the subject is changed on him again. His attempt to find stable ground is overturned just as easily as the earth Lambert works with his spade. He looks to his wrists, trying to remind himself that he wasn't a captive anymore and not to deal on the memories those marks bring.

"Magic can't fix it..." he comments, attempting to keep himself in the here and now even if this reality was feeling less real all the time.

"Everything else was healed."

[whattaprick]

"Maybe not magic, but that's not the only thing you can use for injuries," Lambert stops, letting his spade lean against him while he digs into a pocket. What the search produces is a small, shallow pot of ointment, something he'll waggle at Psi for his attention (if he can't even keep track of one subject change, maybe he's got a concussion too).

"Here, catch." He tosses it lightly at him. Hopefully, even if he isn't coordinated enough to get it out of the air, it will at least land lightly on his lap, which is what he was aiming for.

Inside, if Psi cares to investigate, is an unappealing looking green ointment (probably nothing on what various excretions you're likely to encounter being a resident of Alternia, let's be honest) that smells like freshly cut leaves -- crisp and green. At any rate, Lambert goes back to work trying to straighten the garden plots out, the dark earth a stark contrast to the patch of green surrounding it.

[dorkypantsuit]

He doesn't even move, catching it mid-throw with his psionics. A faint purple light outlines the object as he flies it towards him before dropping it in his hand. He opens the pot, and sees the ointment inside. He isn't entirely certain of it's purpose, but he can guess it's something to do with helping wounds heal. He closes it back up, before looking back to Lambert and seeing him working again.

"Do you need any help?"

[whattaprick]

Oh, right. Lambert forgets he can actually do that, though he shouldn't be so surprised, given he was flinging people around bodily during the Masquerade.

The salve won't heal as fast as magic -- nothing ever does -- but if he applies it to the bruising and the blisters, it should help them fade faster. Maybe it'll help, maybe it won't, since he's not human, but if he's got blood and it acts the same way as human blood, same principles should apply, right? Comfrey, yarrow, plantain and beeswax ... basic as hell, but it works.

Though the question makes him blink, looking between Psi and the garden. Considering he just said he hadn't done this himself, it's a funny question to ask. Don't you have anything better to do? is the first thing he wants to say, but maybe, like Zecora, he's looking for something to do.

"It'd go faster with another pair of hands. Or in your case..." He taps at his forehead, wincing when his finger encounters the base of a horn. They're such a new change he forgets they're there at all.