Lost Carnival Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ringleaders) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2017-03-17 02:58 pm
ringleaders) wrote in lostcarnival2017-03-17 02:58 pm
⇨ 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.
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... |
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It's especially not his day as Childermass just throws him under the metaphorical bus. The other magician just gets a pouty little glare as he mentions reflective surfaces. Traitor. What has he ever done to you except for that puddle trick and accidentally setting him on fire that one time and okay, yeah, Childermass has a pretty good excuse.
And then Lambert mentions him taking his shirt off and Strange just frowns. "Absolutely not!" Is he being a petty drama queen? Definitely. Does he really not want to take his shirt off? Also definitely. But hasn't he already suffered enough? "You said yourself that it wasn't too bad, surely that's enough for the examination to stop."
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"Unless you've got a second dick growing out of your chest, nothing's going to surprise me," Lambert says, blunt and crass as always -- heightened by being tired and crashing from the adrenaline of a fight, though it's amazing that's even possible, given everything he is.
"If it heals funny, you're never going to stop bitching. Just lift your shirt up, let me have a look, and then I can stick a bottle in your mouth and we can call it a day. How's that swelling coming along?" The last bit is, of course, directed at Childermass, since Lambert's apparently quite competent at yelling at two people at once.
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But then he turns his quarrelsome snapping back towards Childermass and he just shrugs. That's all. Look, he's holding the ice against it, one has to assume it's going down, right?
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And hot damn does this man have absolutely nothing in the way of 'muscles' or 'major scars'. There are a few small scars because he fought in the peninsula, he's not coming out of that completely unscathed, but aside from the fuckton of bruises, this is the stomach of a skinny man who's never worked a goddamn day of manual labor in his life.
He's not self-conscious, per se, but it is a bit ridiculous how poncey this makes him look compared to Lambert and Childermass. "Is this good enough?"
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"Good enough," he says, though there's still a touch of amusement in his tone. He reaches out to perform the same examination as before, this time focused on the worst of the bruising on Strange's side and using one hand to palpate the area gentle. This time, too, Strange will be able to feel the calluses on his fingers and the occasional scar, and the witcher's hands are slightly warmer than an ordinary man's would be -- or maybe that's just a contrast to the sharp chill in the air.
"Congratulations," he says eventually, pulling his hands back to himself. "You don't have a broken rib. You're only having such a hard time breathing because you don't exercise enough." And with that declaration (not caring about trifling things like patient confidentiality, even if there's a third party in the room) he'll go ahead and hand him one of the potions the Ringmaster distributed.
"Drink up," he'll instruct, while he retrieves a small pot of what turns out to be a green salve, the crisp, clean smell of herbs filling the air. If either of them are familiar with their herbs, they'll recognize the comfrey and yarrow. That one isn't for Strange, though -- he's advancing back towards Childermass.
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But apparently, that isn't all he's getting away with. He looks back when it sounds like Lambert's done with the other magician and he can't help but give the man a wary look as he picks up that little pot and marches over his way again. The scent of comfrey and yarrow — while he wouldn't be able to name the plants themselves just off the top of his head, the smell is familiar enough — does drain some of that wariness away, because he can make a somewhat educated guess on what he's up to now.
"Is that something for the bruising?"
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As Lambert hands him the potion, Strange pauses, uncorks the potion, sniffs it slightly, and then just chugs it down in one gulp, not really caring how awful it may or may not taste. Being bruised sucks. Setting the bottle back down on the cot, he starts to pay attention to what else is going on.
The scent of the herbs is also familiar to Strange. Hopefully Lambert's done with him because Strange just hops off the cot and walks over towards the other two, trying to get a glimpse of whatever salve Lambert's using (while also probably getting in the way a little bit). He's not going to bother Lambert though, but will instead ask Childermass,
"How's the towel, by the way? Is it still cold?"
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Lambert shoots Strange an irritated look as he gets underfoot, because questions or not he should probably stay seated while the potion works through his system (not that Lambert had ever listened to that advice himself), but he nods at Childermass's question.
"For the bruises and the cartilage. Use it morning and evening. Should help with any cuts you've got, too, keep them from getting infected." He'll offer him the pot, but not before he hooks a finger into it to retrieve a generous amount of the stuff, gesturing at his face. Obviously, the unspoken intent is to wipe it on him, but whether Childermass is inclined to let him or not is another story.
"Anything that needs stitching, or is that it for you two?"
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Is it still cold?
"I believe it's a solid piece of ice at this point, so, yes, it is still cold," he tells the other magician. Way to go, man, this thing isn't thawing out for awhile. It's actually a little uncomfortable to the touch, which means he's been switching up hands on occasion. Back to the pot Lambert holds, as well as the slab of ointment the man dug out of it first, he does look disinclined to let Lambert apply it, but...
It's annoying to be stuck considering Lambert a damn nurse, but he should probably let him do his job. He still gives him a look along the lines of 'I could do that myself' as he moves the frozen washcloth, though.
"And considering I've gotten an eyeful of all your own scars, Mr. Lambert, I think I would chance stitching myself up over letting you do it, assuming I ever needed it."
Right, straight back to being petty and rude.
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Though wait a minute. What's all this about scars? Strange frowns, looking between the other two men as if realizing for the first time that people can have conversations when he's not there.
"I've a feeling there's a story there that I'm missing out on. What scars?"
Granted, the witcher isn't as stuffy with regards to fashion as the Englishmen are. But he's still covered up most of the time and Strange was thankfully absent during those periods when he was less covered up. So if you asked Strange to describe what Lambert's scars look like and where they'd be on his body, he'd have no clue where to start.
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The response the witcher elects to pursue to the magician's snide comment is to proceed to smear the salve over his face, with a hand that's slightly firmer than strictly necessary (they're both being petty here, nobody has the higher ground). Unfortunately for Childermass, it also leaves him in a somewhat better position to respond to Strange's inquiry.
"Master Childermass is referring to the fact that he stripped me naked during the Celebration," is what Lambert responds with blandly, even as his fingers wipe the the ointment over Childermass's face to forestall whatever response he might have interjected with. It's not actually a lie, either, he's just leaving out how he did it.
"I'm flattered he remembered, since I wasn't under the impression he was paying that much attention." Strange can see his terrible grin, impossible to repress; Childermass can definitely at least hear it. "He had so many other lovely companions to choose from."
And so the ghost of fun Childermass returns to haunt them all.
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But more seriously, if Lambert was hoping to ruffle Childermass's feathers (figuratively and also probably literally), he has to do a lot worse than mention that in front of Strange. Even though the witcher cuts off any answer of his own by jamming a hand in his face — that hurts, by the way — it only earns a grimace and then, once the offending hand is gone, a roll of his eyes. Like, really, man? Of course. Lambert would phrase it like that if the regrettable amount of time they spent hanging out together back during that god awful week taught him anything.
"Lovely companions who, if I recall, helped with that," he replies, unsurprisingly deadpan about it all. "If you're going to bet your clothing on a hand of cards, I suggest you actually learn how to play poker first."
It's hardly his fault Lambert is shit at cards. Admittedly, Childermass had been cheating the entire time, but that had been all part of the fun for him. He idly reaches up to check his nose, more annoyed at that than anything else, since now he can't put the ice back on it without smearing ointment around. Oh well.
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"Somehow, I've a feeling that alcohol might have been involved as well," said in a tone that's more exasperated than deadpan. Because yeah, he straight up remembers fun Childermass and his buddies having a drink or two. And it would make sense for the Celebration to push drink after drink on strip poker just to keep people going.
And now it's Strange's turn to be a bit of a shit as he responds with a siiiigh, trying to play this as deadpan as possible. "Still, I'm glad to hear that there were others who helped with the stripping." And the deadpan tone only lasts for a few seconds as a wry smile plays on his face. "I mean no offense, but the two of you would be an awful couple."
And ha ha, have fun making couple jokes at Strange oh no you can't cause he's married.
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The thing is, with teasing -- or one-upsmanship, or whatever you want to call this -- is that it's a game that brings out Lambert's competitive side. Between Childermass's lack of a visible reaction, Strange's miserable failure to keep a straight face through the proceedings, and the fact that they just fucking escaped out of hell and there's no better way to affirm life than make bad decisions, the witcher can't help responding to it.
Who are we kidding, he doesn't need an excuse to try to be the biggest shit in the room.
Which is why he straight up smirks at Strange as he reaches out to attempt to sling one arm around Childermass's shoulders and hitch a leg up over his thighs so he's half-sitting on his lap. He figures he's got about half a second before he's dumped on ice-covered floor, so better make this good--
"For the record, we're madly in love," he says, all too seriously, before turning to lean in towards Childermass. "Right, honey?"
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That's the unfortunate problem he's noticed with having feathers. He can control how little he shows on his face — in this case, a slight crease of his brow and a thinning of lips — but he hasn't exactly gotten the hang of willing feathers to lay flat while agitated. Typically the other party is just as agitated, so it's yet to be noted, but his visible feathers, the ones along his face like sleek sideburns, are absolutely puffing up as he sits up straighter and squares off his shoulders in response to Lambert taking up way too much of his personal space.
"That's enough," he does an excellent job of maintaining a cool tone in spite of his traitorous feathers, reaching up to put a hand in the witcher's face and shove him back when he tries leaning in towards him. "Get off before you end up on the floor, you idiot."
Because Lambert is right to assume he's getting dumped on the floor, it's only that he's getting more than half a second to react and Childermass is already sure he'll regret being even that kind.
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Needless to say, it's just really kind of funny and he is trying his hardest to be somewhere in the neighborhood of keeping his cool. There's a few moments where he's dangerously close to actually laughing, a fact which is way too apparent due to his absolute lack of a poker face, but Strange regains his composure soon enough.
He's honestly not entirely sure if Childermass knows about the feathers thing or not. So, of course, Strange is going to be the asshole who points it out, as he gestures towards Childermass with a clawed finger. "I'm afraid your changes are giving away your true feelings on the matter."
Of course, the true feelings are irritation, but still counts.
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Because a hand in his face might be keeping Lambert from speaking without having it muffled against that palm, but it's not going to keep him from doing what any self-respecting three year old would do: lick a broad stripe across his palm, nasty and wet as he can make it.
However, he will detach himself from Childermass after that, though he's unable to resist using the hand slipping off Childermass's shoulder to ruffle those fluffed feathers with a finger before he pulls himself free. He's satisfied with himself, that much is easy to tell, mentally tallying himself a point in the entirely one-sided war of attrition (irritation) between them.
Hopefully fast enough to avoid getting socked in the face.
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Because, unlike the other two, he doesn't find this funny in the least, but then again, when does anyone taking the brunt of humiliation actually agree with the humor of it? As soon as Lambert is off his lap, he'll stand and glower down at Lambert (easy to do, because he's oh so taller than the witcher). There won't be any punching, as much as Childermass might be inclined to try.
No, instead he'll make a last ditch effort to maintain some kind of dignity, meaning all he'll do is hold out a hand, grit his teeth against anything worse he might want to say, and just go, "The salve, if you will. Cleary I've taken up enough of your valuable time as you play doctor."
Yeah, he's just going to leave. If anyone was hoping for a fight, they're out of luck.
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Besides, Strange isn't the one who's in the running to get punched in the nose. As long as it looks like he'll escape relatively unhurt, he doesn't mind egging Lambert on a little bit.
Still, the game of 'bother Childermass' can only go on for so long as Childermass himself gets up and starts to put an end to the game. Ah well. Honestly, that's to be expected. "Bother me if you need that cold compress refrozen," Strange says, with a little nod towards Childermass. Hopefully the second time he wouldn't freeze half the room while making it.
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And while what happened in the Celebration should be all rights stay in the Celebration, it seems that's not a rule that Lambert cares to follow.
"I can tell you're feeling better already. Must be my great nursing skills." Once he finds the lid to the pot of salve, he'll go ahead and drop it neatly into Childermass's upturned palm. "Come back if you need more. Or if you start throwing up from a concussion."
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Sure, he's about as much to blame as Lambert, but the other magician gets a little leniency for a multitude of reasons. Like having learned his wife is trapped in Faerie, also having to go back into a fight — he's well aware the man has some issues with combat, though whether that applied to vampire hell or not, who knows — and, most importantly, he's probably still a bit mad. So, Strange, you get off easy, all you get is,
"Try and get some actual rest for once, now that everyone's back."
And then this grouch of a Yorkshire man is pocketing the salve he was given and out through the tent flap.
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"I should probably head out as well—undoubtedly someone has some sort of problem that I can use my magic to help with."
And, undoubtedly, someone's got some sort of problem that Lambert should be using his nurse skills to help with. Thankfully, nobody's shown up yet but Strange is slightly aware that all these antics might have been wasting people's time.
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There's no real teeth to that statement naturally, but it's fun to threaten him with it, anyway. Lambert smirks, but he does waves Strange off, letting him go on his merry way, wherever that might take him. Sure, he's got work to get back to, but a diversion like this has lifted his mood enough to make that easier rather than the chore he was bracing for it to be.
"Try not to freeze anything else solid," he calls after him.
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Strange is straight up not averse to running away from Lambert and/or Childermass should one of them encounter him flitting about, getting in the way, and attempting to help. That's pragmatism, not cowardice. He gives Lambert a little nod before calling, as he exits the medical tent,
"I'll make certain to only freeze things that would be useful for you!"