lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: PROLOGUE

There's something about being unexpectantly summoned that puts people in a particularly bad mood and, gee, that may have a little to do with the abrupt change in locations or, additionally in this case, that Childermass had been in the middle of getting a coffee. So that's how he shows up, cash in hand, extended out towards the mage, the most bewildered look on his face... for all of six seconds. Then realization settles in, what's just happened.

For the record, he at least pauses a moment, taking a break from staring at Strange to fold over the bills and tuck them away in a pocket again for later. Then and only then does he step out of the circle and keeps on stepping right up until he's in the other man's personal space, grabbing for the front of his shirt to — should he not slip away like the smug little slime he is — drag him up and close.

"Have you? Really?" He growls, voice the low gravel of a chain-smoker. "And just how sure of that are you?"

Strange attempts to slip away, but Childermass grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him closer. He's still a bundle of excitement mixed with an overbearing smugness as he looks over at Childermass. If anything, he should be a bit more cautious, considering that Childermass is probably thinking of just hauling off and punching him, but that is definitely not happening. The hard part was over, after all.

"Quite sure," he states, still far too smug for his own good. "Now unhand me, changeling, so I can give you your first orders."

The word 'changeling' is said with such disdain, as if changelings amounted to just the muck on the bottom of Strange's shoe.

Unhand him? He scowls, momentarily waffling over whether to shake the man or not, but in the end, sure, he'll unhand him. By giving him a shove away from him, that is, straight back towards one of the stacks of boxes. It's more than just to be rude, though, even if that really is still the main purpose. It's a test, too, seeing just how bad this binding is. As it stands, nothing happens, since something as simple as a shove backward isn't the actual cause of any incoming harm.

Besides, that counts as unhanding. He was only following orders, the mage's actual first orders whether he realizes it or not. Funny how magic has all its little loopholes, isn't it?

Regardless of whether or not Strange collides with the boxes or not, Childermass sets his frown into a thing, grim smile instead and says, "Go on, then. I'm all ears, Merlin."

He stumbles backwards, colliding with some of the boxes with a thud. There's a moment where Strange looks terribly undignified as he moves away from the boxes, before he adjusts his tie and regains some of that obnoxious smugness that's sure to permeate the rest of the conversation.

Obnoxious smugness that only gets even worse when Childermass calls him 'Merlin.' It's obviously a tease or an insult, which really goes to show how little they teach these creatures in the Courts if the name of a powerful wizard (even if he was most likely fictional) was to be used as an insult. He'll take that with pride, and not just because the alternative would be getting angry and snapping at Childermass.

"You are bound to my will, changeling, forced to serve me and carry out my orders until I see fit to release you." Which is most likely going to be 'never' or 'only after someone forces him to.' "Your first task. I want regular information on the court of the Rose Queen as well as a woman named Amanda Forrest. I think weekly reports should be sufficient."

He'll be less happy with the other names Childermass comes up with for him in the future since he can see the sarcastic Merlin missed its mark, but for now—

"Don't see what you're going to do with that kind of information," he says, slowly bringing his arms back in to fold them idly across his chest. "It's not like you'll ever be able to summon her." Or if he does, well, he'll die, so that fixes this little problem neatly. The other name, though, he has to frown and think about it for two seconds, but it isn't familiar, he decides.

"Who's the other woman? She's no changeling or faerie."

"So you think," Strange simply responds to Childermass's assertion that he couldn't summon the Rose Queen. In actuality...well, the other man's kind of right. He won't be able to summon her now, as is. But with enough information, with enough knowledge about the Rose Queen and her realm, who's to say that he couldn't summon her? Summoning and binding an actual faerie to his will would show the rest of them at the Circle. None of their knowledge would be kept from him if that were the case.

But then the changeling asks about Amanda. And Strange tries his hardest to keep up a poker face but it fails miserably. His expression quickly swaps from bitterness to Strange desperately trying to reinstate that poker face and come off as someone who's cool, calm, and collected and not a pathetic divorcee who's just recently learned that he tremendously misses his wife.

"Regrettably, she's human." Maybe Amanda would have understood all this better if she was a mage, like he was. Maybe then this could actually have worked. "My relationship to her is no concern of yours, your job is just to find out what she's up to."

The way his expression flip-flops regarding this Amanda woman is by far more interesting than any smug this or that regarding the Rose Queen. He already knows all about the Rose Queen, so, personally, there's no real interest there.

This, however...

"Aha," Childermass says as if hit by a sudden realization as to what Strange clearly means. "So you're a stalker. I see." And he makes a point of looking him over again, up and down. "Hmm, yeah, you do look the type for it, too."

Edited 2017-05-28 01:31 (UTC)

There's a pause...before Strange just turns beet red. He stammers for a moment, as if deciding what to say. This changeling doesn't need to know about his relationship with Amanda, he just needs to know what she's doing! But, then again, when Childermass inevitably gossips about this, he doesn't want the entire court of the Rose Queen to think he's a stalker. But then again, it's none of his business. There's an awkward moment where Strange just looks like a blushing deer in the headlights before he decides dignity be damned, let's try and keep that reputation intact.

"She's my ex-wife," he admits, through gritted teeth, knowing full well that there's no way he can get out of this without looking kind of pathetic. "I just want to see how she's doing."

Total stalker.

A beat passes, another, where Childermass just stares at Strange, and then, after, gives his head a shake, like it's too late. All the other faeries are definitely going to know about this mage who's a creepy stalker, or at least that'll be what he'll let him assume. Overall, Childermass wouldn't offer up that he's been bound by an idiot like this. Too dangerous.

Still, he'll tsk over it, "Using magic to summon someone to stalk your ex. Are you sure you're not a warlock? That seems more like a warlock thing, if I'm going to be honest about it."

Strange's arrogance is going to cause him to give away more information than he wants. Because as Childermass mentions 'warlocks', he just seethes. His eyes narrow, his nails dig into the palm of his hands as he clenches his fist. Being called a warlock has apparently pissed him off more than being called a stalker. Wonderful priorities, bud.

"I'm a fourth rank mage in the Circle of Enlightenment and have been in the circle for over ten years now." So question now is, why isn't he a higher rank? "I'm not some warlock who's stupid enough to bind themselves to a demon in a half-assed attempt for power. None of those idiots could even get close to summoning a faerie servant in the first place!"

Strange, Strange, Strange, this would go easier if you stopped giving him more ammo against you. Of course, Childermass would never advise such a thing (nor does he believe the mage would listen to advice from a changeling, so it's all moot, anyway). So he just raises his eyebrows at that.

"Really?" He's finding out new ways to piss this guy off faster than he has any other human and he isn't even trying yet. "A fourth rank mage after ten years? Just how many ranks are there? That seems a little middling for ten years, but what would I know about mages?"

Edited 2017-05-29 03:27 (UTC)

That's right. This man knows nothing about mages in the first place. What would a changeling know of the power inherent in mages? What would this faerie creature know about what he could do? It wasn't like the fae interacted with mages on a regular basis, after all.

"If you keep mouthing off, I'll gladly teach you something to know about mages. I've never used Stewart's Evocation of Unmaking on something alive before. I wonder if it would kill you outright or simply disfigure you." It's mostly bullshit...but Strange is walking over towards one of the boxes, helpfully labeled 'books.' It's no use trying to outright kill the changeling, especially after he just summoned him. But who knows. Maybe there's a spell in here to put this guy in enough pain that he shuts the hell up.

And yet her continues to be thoroughly unimpressed with Strange and all his boxes. Even the threat earns nothing more than the changeling's scorn and he lets out a snort, as a sharp, amused sound. 'Stewart's Evocation of Unmaking' indeed.

"And then what? Try again?"

Go through changelings until he runs out? Inevitably bring the ire of the Rose Queen down on him for destroying her property? Well, he might enjoy that last part, right up until the entire dying thing. Strange won't get very far, anyway, since one second, there's no one already at those same boxes and, the next, there is. It's a quick hop, simple enough to do, summoning up the shadows around him back where he stood and flickering across the floor to pop up again over there, now leaning lazily against the stack of boxes with the mage's books.

"Well? Go on," he prompts. "Evoke at me."

Edited 2017-05-29 04:51 (UTC)

He visibly starts as Childermass suddenly moves from one end of the room to the other, trying his hardest not to swear under his breath. Trying to regain his cool and seem like he's totally got this under control, Strange reaches down into one of the open boxes and rummages around for a little bit. Pulling out a book, he quickly flips through it, trying to search for the spell in question.

Woefully (or probably thankfully for Childermass), Strange doesn't know that much magic to hurt people. He's always been content doing that in other manners, a careful word here and there to change opinion, a meeting to try and sway someone's thoughts in a different direction. As he finds the evocation, he casts the spell, a complicated phrase in Latin that somehow seems to swap to Aramaic in the middle of it. Strange points a finger at Childermass...and nothing happens. Really, the most Childermass would feel is a worrying sensation in his stomach, the sort of pulling one gets when they're sick and their organs have decided to commit mutiny due to the strains of being sick. It's pain, but pain that only lasts for less than a minute or so and nothing downright debilitating.

With a frown, Strange gestures at a nearby throw rug, obviously something that's seen better days. The rug almost instantly unravels, turning into a pile of undone cotton. Well the spell obviously works...just not on people.

"Damn," he simply responds. The least he was asking for was disfigurement, come on magic, why you gotta be like this.

All of that earns Strange a grimace and nothing more. There's a flicker of worry in the back of Childermass's mind when the pain kicks in, wondering if the mage actually would be foolish enough to kill his newly bound servant, but then it fades and the worry along with it. Apparently, he can't even manage more than to make him mildly uncomfortable for a minute. Somehow that makes being stuck serving him even worse, that he isn't even that good at magic in the first place...

So, in the end, after he's gone on the destroy the rug instead of the changeling, Childermass is left to just raise his eyebrows up again and continue on looking unimpressed. It's the best defense and, currently, honestly how he feels right now.

"Don't really have a knack for torture, do you?" He's also going to keep on picking on him, considering how obnoxious this entire ordeal is. "Better go check out a few books on that from the magical library."

Strange just seethes as Childermass continues to point out his flaws. Of course he doesn't have a knack for torture, he's a goddamn accountant! This isn't the middle ages, why would he have a knack for torture to begin with? And why does it drive him so mad when Childermass points out the obvious fact that really shouldn't annoy him as much as it does.

"I have a knack for summoning and binding," Strange reminds Childermass, through gritted teeth, with a glare. "And really, if you keep on being a nuisance like this, I don't have a problem sending you out to do something stupid or dangerous."

Considering how amazingly awful this is going, he'll have to settle for making Childermass's life hell the best way he knows how: really, really stupid requests. Have fun buying the groceries, asshole.

"Considering you've already asked me to do something dangerous and something stupid, that threat doesn't really hold as much water as you may think it does," Childermass replies, not even trying to disguise the scorn in his voice. Yeah, do your worst, buddy. It's not like there's a huge change in shittiness of his life between serving one asshole or another here.

Though be prepared to either make some incredibly specific grocery lists or enjoy all the one-ply toilet paper and sugar-free gummy bears that your heart does not at all desire, pal.

Edited 2017-05-30 01:41 (UTC)

Obviously something dangerous involves the Rose Queen and something stupid involves his ex. Still, Strange can't help but raise an eyebrow at that. Because dangerous? Really? He'll mull over this more later while eating the granola bars that taste like chalk that Childermass bought instead of the actually good granola bars.

"You're in a faerie court. Duplicity and cheating people is the name of the game with your lot—she probably has a whole host of people that she knows are spying on her and even more that she doesn't know. What's one more changeling to take note of what she's doing, especially someone so..." Shabby. "...nondescript as you are."

No comment on the something stupid. Because, at least in Strange's mind, a little bit of stalking to find out what his ex-wife is up to isn't stupid in the slightest (he will probably have to admit to 'kind of desperate', though.)

"You really have no idea, do you," Childermass just keeps on rolling with the blatant disrespect over here. It's pretty obvious, actually, that Strange doesn't have a clue. If anything, he's probably making assumptions based on things he's read, which are very likely all wrong. Fan-fucking-tastic. Well, he isn't about to give away much, anyway, since the man probably doesn't even know what to ask.

But since he's going to be stuck here for who knows how much longer, he may as well make himself at home. Still leaning lazily against the boxes filled with books, the changeling fishes out a beaten up box of cigarettes and his lighter. He won't ask, nope, he's just going to go right on ahead and light up in what is undoubtedly a 'no smoking allowed' apartment.

He straight up doesn't have a clue. But that's why he would summon a faerie servant in the first place, isn't it. To get something remotely close to a clue about how the court of the Rose Queen and actual legitimate faerie politics work. To learn about this magic that he's been obsessing over for years.

As Childermass lights his cigarette, Strange wrinkles his nose, giving the other man a dismissive hand gesture.

"Put that out," Strange orders, frowning at Childermass as he does so. Oh, he could have told the changeling 'at least open a window' or 'go smoke on the balcony' but no, if Childermass is going to be an asshole, Strange will gladly respond in kind.

And he's unlikely to do one damn thing when all that not having a clue manages to get Strange killed. So, just a matter of waiting him out, or so he hopes. The order to put the cigarette out earns the mage a nasty look, but fine, he'll put it out. Strange may want to be a little more specific in the future, though, because—

"Of course, sir," he agrees and drops the cigarette, already lit, onto the floor of the apartment. He'll put it out there, grinding the bit of ash and the rest into the wood.

Strange is quickly learning that he needs to A: be obnoxiously specific with the requests he makes and B: buy a goddamn ashtray because he's got a feeling Childermass'll try to smoke in here again just to be obnoxious for the sake of being obnoxious. Still, he's on a little bit of a power high because the order actually worked. Sure, there was now a little scorch mark on the floor that'll probably come out of his deposit, but Strange is just now realizing that Childermass actually listened to that order. So naturally, he's going to do give another one.

"The trashcan is underneath the sink in the kitchen. If there's any of that cigarette left, pick it up and throw it away there." But if Childermass had already managed to grind the cigarette into the wood...well, that just means that Strange would have to pick up cleaning supplies from the store later.

"I honestly don't see why you're being so difficult, changeling. This would be easier for you if you just behaved."

Unfortunately for Childermass, there's still enough cigarette left that he does have to carry out the next command. He sets his jaw in a way that he's clenching his teeth together, but not being too obvious about it. He doesn't particularly want to give away how angered he really is by this, which is, safe to say, a lot.

Regardless, he lifts his shoe up off the crushed cigarette and leans down to retrieve it. With that in hand, he's off to the kitchen, tossing it into the trashcan before returning. The brief trip across the apartment and back gives him a moment to revert fully to his indifferent calm.

"It isn't in my nature, sir," he states, maintaining a bored tone as he does so. "Clearly my kind is troublesome by nature. I'm sure you already knew that."

Not actually true, but like Strange will know any better.

Edited 2017-06-02 04:01 (UTC)

He's liking this far too much already. Idly, Strange wonders just what the limits are on the binding. Of course he's not going to make Childermass do anything stupid. What's the use of a faerie servant if you maim him right away? But even just someone to get the groceries or pick up the books he wants from the bookstore would make his life so much easier. Information was the priority, of course, but hey, if you've bound yourself a servant, might as well use him for other, more menial things.

Strange will have to provide the money, of course. If the changeling doesn't sleep somewhere in the Rose Queen's realm, he probably sleeps under a bridge or something like that. Gross.

"I know faeries are a troublesome and duplicitous lot. I'd imagine that any of those traits must be muddled with the blood of your human parent, no matter how strong your fae parent would be—who is your faerie parent, by the way?" It's a question, not an order, so Childermass is under no obligation to answer. But the man's appearance is quite striking, not the sort of thing he'd expect to see from a servant of the Rose Queen. It's obvious to Strange that no matter what Maury-like situation Childermass's parents got themselves in, the Rose Queen is not the mother.

It's true. Feathers and the distinct lack of bright colors are very much not what one would imagine when it came to someone called the Rose Queen and her children. Plants, flowers, thorns, sure, but birds simply don't fit in there. Childermass isn't even in a position to deny he's any different than the other Summer Court changelings, not with how the summoning had stripped away his glamour on arrival.

It isn't an order, though. He gets the feeling it may become one after his answer turns out to be disgustingly sarcastic, but he can't help himself, going on to say, "The Queen of England. Isn't it obvious?"

⇨ The Tourist Trap: PROLOGUE

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