lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

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⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 1

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 1st - 7th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: Memories begin returning to the displaced as the fall gets chillier. How the hell did we end up here, again? Also, apparently, the fair is in town.
Warnings: Individually marked!

PORTLAND BY NIGHT↴

Memory regains will come into effect at the beginning of October, to whatever degree you've decided upon, and may be regained at whatever pace you desire from then on. For those with their full carnival memories, it will be like waking up in the body of someone else - for those with half and half, it will be like rapidly recalling sets of memories from a totally different life. Those with full amnesia will simply feel as if this is how it's always been.

Unfortunately for you, memories aren't the only thing you have to deal with. The supernatural community of Portland is bustling all of a sudden - could your presence and these events somehow be related?

► THE OUTER CIRCLE: As of the start of the month, the Portland Circle of Enlightenment will find itself starting to get swarmed with members from other chapters. Most notably, it would seem that a small cabal of top mages from the North American Enlightenment Council will be making their home in Portland's HQ. For anyone but the highest of ranks, the purpose behind their visit will be unclear, but it seems like something is definitely up on a metaphysical level. The Circle will be buzzing with rumours of unique planar activity and threatening omens. It seems that it all started with an unusual flare of activity in the planetary ley-lines, starting approximately a week ago. However, even if you would usually be the type to keep tabs on such things, you will find that you oddly have no memory of observing this phenomenon yourself.

► THE ANIMAL FAIR: Good news, the fair is in town! Or, at least, it would be good news... if this was a regular fair. Instead, what's being observed is a bunch of nearly identical flyers, spread all around Portland - each of which bears only the words "THE ANIMAL FAIR", a seemingly bloody paw-print of unknown origin, and the directions to a vague forested location outside of the city. It's dated for October 7th, and all instances of its posting having been discovered with a scattering of rose petals, crow feathers, and pre-burnt matches laying on the ground around them. Most are taking this to be some kind of bizarre viral marketing campaign, but others may know better.

► THE EARTH SPIRIT: If you have connections to The Pack or any of its many variations, you'll probably hear whispers of something very odd that occurred last week - according to the elders, it sounds as if the Earth Spirit, the magical and spiritual center of the planet, has suddenly taken a wound. It's not clear why or how, but there is a fair bit of concern among spiritual types, as it is werebeast belief and nebulous magical fact that the magical forces within the earth are the source of all magic here, as well as the source of life. While many werebeasts claim to have felt the Spirit succumb, you strangely have no memory of such an event occurring. Though things do feel strange, if you know how to tap into the Spirit yourself.

► THE WAR CRY: Though Anath's rain of terror across North America lasted for the first fifteen years or so of the Severing, most independent demons have had enough time to start taking the arch-demon's relative inactivity for granted. For that first while, the warrior queen had seemed determine to rebuild an army on earth by forcing her scattered brethren into service - only for her to gradually settle down in a fortress somewhere in Texas and dig in her heels. Of course, this was too good to last - it sounds as if she and her demonic legion have begun tearing their way up the west coast, their goals remaining a mystery. Their destination, however, is almost certainly Portland.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Obviously I am using it, otherwise it wouldn't be on the table in the first place!" Strange raises his voice as he downright glares at Lambert...and then promptly gets shushed by a student the next table over. He briefly gives her a murderous glare, before turning back to Lambert as he continues to bitch and moan (but quieter this time).

"Give me back the book. I'll return it when I'm finished and then you can borrow it."

Though why on Earth does this man want to read about fairies? He's certainly not a mage and barely has any magical talent among him in the first place--really, Lambert's traces of magic are so weak that Strange has to wonder if it's more of him being around magic than possessing any magic himself, like cigarette smoke lingering on your clothes.

"You look like you're going to be here a while," is what Lambert answers, waving Strange off. "I need to head out again." Still not handing over the book, buddy. Sure, it's hardly proper library etiquette, but this is one situation where Lambert isn't giving a crap about that!

Though since the man's so resistant to the whole idea of someone borrowing a book from him for five minutes, Lambert's going to look up and actually look at what he's working on. It isn't the first time he's seen Strange with mystical crap all over the tabletop, but there's more of it than usual, like he'd simply raked the entire occult section out.

"What are you even working on?" He snorts. Some of this stuff looks real creepy he'll pick up one of the more clearly self-printed books, terrible photoshop cover job and all -- Speak with the Dead: Seven GUARANTEED Methods for Gaining Knowledge from Those Who Have Passed On.

"Trying to raise the dead?"

It's the first ridiculous thing he can come up with off-hand -- not one of his best, at that -- but as soon as he says it, he frowns. Where did that come from?

Edited 2017-06-07 17:17 (UTC)

There's no way he's going to tell Lambert the truth. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just working on diving some omens and part of that involves chatting up the local spirits, both those that aren't as properly formed as ghosts as well as the genius loci of some of Portland's more established buildings. A massive spell's probably already been cast that's shaken up the established order of magic, but no need to worry!

Yeah right. Like fuck he's telling Lambert that.

Besides, the little voice in the back of his head says, why would he need all this information to raise the dead to begin with when blood magic would suffice. But he doesn't know any blood magic to begin with...does he?

So instead, Strange just straight up lies. "I'm working on a book. Occult Traditions in the Pacific Northwest--the title still needs work, but titles can always be changed."

He can sell the lie, but the more Lambert looks at the books scattered around the table, the more holes start forming in said lie. Why would a book on occult traditions need The Modern History of Fairies or Signs and Symbols for the Modern Witch?

Lambert raises his brows. At least, probably to Strange's satisfaction, he'll put the book he was looking at down. It didn't have what he was looking for anyway, hence why he's reaching for The Modern History of Faeries instead and holding it up.

"Doesn't look very traditional, Mr. Strange." He will frown down at it, though. This does look a little more in line with what he's looking for. And he's in here all the time, always looking at and asking for the weirdest shit, Lambert's pretty sure...

Is there any non-awkward way to ask 'hey man, are you a real magician?' Probably not. Lambert sizes him up, frowning, and decides on a different tack.

"You're pretty knowledgeable about this kind of thing aren't you? How long have you been studying it?" Lambert's only been working here since a little over a year ago, but from the man's library record, he's been kind of a shitshow for a long time. The other librarians had specifically told him to make sure he only got the editions that were in less pristine condition and to manually send him more reminders than other patrons, for all the good that seems to have done.

And there we go, he's gone for the book about faeries again. Strange is halfway tempted to cast a quick detect magic cantrip underneath the table here and now, just to see what the hell is up with this guy. Because this is...odd. Most of the interactions Strange has had with Lambert have been him haranguing the librarian about books or the quality of the library or something like that, and now Lambert's actually interested in what he's doing? Something's up.

"I've been studying this since I was about your age. So I'd definitely say that I'm pretty knowledgeable--you've got to be, if you're writing a book." He is sticking to that lie no matter what, partly because the other option is blowing this secret right out of the water, and partly because the lie just feels comfortable. Him writing a book is much more believable than other lies he could have come up with.

Still, Strange is nosy. So he can't help but ask, "Is there anything in particular you want to learn about?"

Ah, Lambert thinks. In other words, a long time ago.

For now, he'll keep that thought to himself and manages a mostly-neutral nod at the statement, no opinion either way. Sure, he agrees in principle that more knowledge makes a better book, but that doesn't stop people from writing bad ones anyway. He can't gauge yet if Strange falls into the latter category or not.

But since he's claiming 'occult traditions' ...

"A couple of things," he says, after a pause. "Protective rituals and objects in a modern context is one. Supernatural bargains are another." He shrugs. "My research mostly involves trying to trace modern beliefs to their original origins, where I can, but it's hard to find anything..." Lambert pauses, trying to think of the word he's looking for. "...coherent."

Strange pauses for a moment, leaning back in his chair as he steeples his fingers in thought. "You might want to sit down," he idly says, nodding to the seat on the other side of the table. Not because this will be shocking information or anything, but just because Strange knows this might end up taking a while. Though, there's barely any room for Lambert to put his elbows on the table or anything like that, it's that badly covered in books.

"The long and short of both your answers is that it depends. Protective rituals, first. Obviously this depends on what sort of magic one would practice. What works for a hedge witch won't work the same for someone who's taken more of a Greco-Roman bent. Likewise, there's no way that someone who specializes in runic magic would ever use something like a mojo bag." And Strange can't help it: a small note of derision creeps into his voice as he mentions runic magic. Urgh, that was even worse and more ineffective than tarot.

"There's a few things that work well for everybody, though, mostly herbal based. And on top of that, there are plenty of protective rituals that aren't based in magic, but might have limited power due to the amount of faith put behind them. There's nothing inherently magical about holy water or a prayer to a certain saint, but put in the right context and they could be just as deadly."

It's obvious that Strange knows a lot about this and is also a big friggen nerd. He'll continue chatting on and delve into more specifics if Lambert asks, but he's definitely choosing his words carefully, partly as this is an overview, partly because he still doesn't entirely know what Lambert's deal is and doesn't want to give away the whole mage thing unless he has to. It's better if those who aren't supernatural think of him as a weirdo eccentric anyway.

"As for bargains, the specifics vary depending on who the person makes the bargain with. The two most common bargains are a human bargaining with a demon or a human bargaining with the fae. There are some major differences: demonic contracts usually involve someone serving in thrall, while fae contracts involve a give and take. Both types of bargains heavily revolve around the concepts of 'exact words.' For example, a bargain between faerie and mage might include the caveat that none of the faerie's actions can harm the mage. Of course, that doesn't stop the faerie from harming the mage's family or convincing the mage to harm himself."

Lambert finds a seat as instructed, though he'll move a few books aside to clear space at the table so he can at least lean his elbows against it, gingerly. He isn't terribly confident any of this is going to be useful in his immediate future, plus there's the whole 'hey I don't really want to admit I think magic is real aspect of it. He nods along like what's coming out of Strange's mouth actually makes sense (it doesn't, but that's what follow-up questions are for) and frowns at the example Strange chooses, but that's all.

"Is there anything that makes certain protective rituals more effective over others, or is it just a matter of intent?" he quizzes. That's the part of inmediate interest to him, so he might as well plumb Strange's mind for whatever information it holds on that, and he certainly didn't miss that disdain. He'll follow up on the contracts later, because even from the little overview the man's given, it sounds like a complicated subject.

"What about things that are more superstition than real ritual -- like iron horseshoes over doorways, silver repelling evil, that kind of thing. How do those fit into the picture?"

Whereas Strange assumes that Lambert's understood everything, or at least enough to make educated guesses, and just keeps on nattering on about the supernatural.

"Obviously the more supernaturally bent one is, the stronger the rituals they perform. Still, centering yourself and being in a familiar space are the two most important things. As for that second point, most superstitions are based in real ritual. Certain texts say that iron and silver repel the fae, though obviously that varies from author to author."

It would be so much easier to ask what's your problem, what do you need protecting against...but not here, not right now, not in the middle of the friggen public library where everybody can hear this conversation. There's a pause as Strange finds a way to word the question without it being too obvious, putting his hand up to his chin in thought as he does so.

"Silver as a general repellent pops up on a pretty regular basis throughout the texts, but the best results are usually the more tailored ones. Is there something that you specifically want to learn about protection from?"

Because what on Earth has rattled Lambert this much that they're actually talking about this in the first place?

It isn't so much for himself that Lambert wants the protection for. Specificity, though? That's going to be difficult when he hardly knows what he's really dealing with in the first place, the scope of what's out there.

"Harm in general," he says at last, with a touch of a frown. "Physical and mental, whether it's supernatural origin or not." He knows that isn't much of an answer, but it's also the best he can come up with right at the moment, and it isn't a lie. He'd like to make sure both his sisters stay safe, whatever else happens. He can take care of himself, after all, but he can't count on his abilities, stunted as they are, to alert him to trouble.

"Warding is probably your best bet," said with utter certainty. "A ward is a spell of protection, usually cast over a place. Wards show up in various established magical traditions--blessings over buildings show up a ridiculous amount. Hell, you could even view something like the horseshoe over the doorway as a primitive ward to begin with."

Strange pauses for a moment, as if mulling something over. "There is a book that has a fairly in-depth chapter about the history of warding and modern applications of warding in various real-world pagan circles. The library doesn't have it, no surprise since the selection is terrible, but I've got a personal copy back at my apartment. We could meet up somewhere and I could lend it to you, if you want."

Most importantly, they could meet up somewhere less crowded and less public. Besides, this gives him enough time for Strange to work a spell of forgetfulness should it turn out that he's barking up the wrong tree entirely and Lambert really is just a nosy kid with a weird interest in the supernatural.

Lambert can't help frowning at that. He'd really been hoping for something that sounded a little more ... portable? Warding the apartment is an attractive idea, no doubt, and he's interested in that too, but protection that requires one hanging around in one place has limited applicability.

Mulling over that further will have to wait, though, with the offer Strange makes (with a casual dismissal of the library's selection, no less, which makes Lambert bristle -- if the selection's so terrible, why are you in here every week?). Apparently finally regaining his sanity after a temporary lapse caused by desperation, Lambert looks understandably wary.

"What's the title of the book?" he'll ask, after a moment. If only to verify for himself that it exists and isn't just made up, or that he can't just find a pirated copy off the internet. It's not a 'yes' or a 'no,' but assuming Strange isn't merely making things up...

"Etheric Traditions in the Age of Pisces. The author's name is Morgenstern. The book was published...mmm, in the late 1990s, so it's a bit dated but it's still the most comprehensive history I've managed to find."

And, since it's a metaphysical book published by a smaller press in the late 1990s, it's hard to find to begin with. A quick Amazon search will tell Lambert that the book does exist but any used copy is a bit more pricy than expected. Strange ignores Lambert's wariness as he just continues to natter on about books and academia like a big nerd.

"Morgenstern's output has slowed down lately. Etheric Traditions was her last big book, though she did publish a collection of essays a few years back--the library's got that one, by the way, there's one titled 'Etheric Traditions Revisited,' read that one after you've read the book. She wrote a chapter in Mysticism and Magic of the American South but it was all about the historical use of John the Conqueror root, which I find ridiculously boring."

It's a good thing Strange loves the sound of his own voice so much, since he gives Lambert more information than he really needs. The book's title and author isn't difficult to memorize, though he won't quite get to fiddling with his phone in front of Strange just yet. After all, while he's got his attention...

"Never heard of it." He can be honest about that, at least. But while he's got Strange's ear, anyway: "You mentioned different types of contracts. Do you have books on those, too?" Not too far at hand is the open packet of sugar-free gummy bears, which he looks at with a touch of pity -- who hates themselves that much they'd willingly consume those? -- before he lifts his head to meet Strange's eyes.

"Obviously," Strange scoffs, as if it's an immensely stupid question for Lambert to even ask. Does he have books on contracts, what sort of mage would he be if he didn't have books on contracts? Of course he has books on contracts! Though, of course, Lambert doesn't really know what kind of a mage he is to begin with, so it's not really a stupid question for him, is it. Still, Strange irrationally feels a bit insulted.

"My realm of research tends more towards the fae instead of demons, so keep that in mind--get out pen and paper, by the way." Since Strange knows that the likelihood he'll forget this list if Lambert asks again is pretty high, might as well get things written down. Of course, he's not going to pause while Lambert gets out said pen and paper and is instead going to start rambling.

"Yeats is more general knowledge, though he does briefly touch on faerie contracts. Morrison's Manx Fairy Tales is another good resource. As for contracts specifically, there are very few texts exclusively on the concept of faerie contracts. Graves's Faeries and Folklore of the Victorian Age has a surprisingly accurate analysis of how the contracts actually work, though belief and superstitions have obviously shifted from then to now. Oh, write this down, you're going to want to check out Mann's Deals With the Devil: Supernatural Contracts Throughout History. It's mostly analysis but he does have a chapter on the representation of faerie contracts in film and literature."

Strange is rambling, so lost up in the joy of talking about books and talking academia that he straight up doesn't realize he's let slip more than he wanted. Someone's got an idea about how contracts actually work, gee, how would Strange know how fae contracts work to begin with?

Instead of pen and paper, Lambert's just going to straight up take his phone out of his pocket and opening up a new file for notes. Recent circumstances have left him much more paranoid about making sure he's easy to contact, and his fingers fly over the digital keyboard as he notes down what Strange says, though he won't interrupt by asking how things are spelled -- he'll just have to hope the search engine will auto-correct any mistakes he makes typing all this down.

That said, though, that Strange can remember all these things so readily and have an opinion on them clearly speaks of a deep-seated interest in the topic at hand. Lambert glances over his notes again quickly, just to make sure autocorrect hasn't fucked anything up, before he looks back at Strange. Surprisingly accurate, is it?

"Should be a good start." he taps his fingers against the edge of the table. He doesn't know how long these books are, but he strongly suspects he isn't going to be able to read them through in time to have solid information by the time the fair rolls around, but ...

"You said before that faerie contracts are about give and take ... but that sounds more like demon contracts to me. Give up your soul for something you want now, that kind of thing. I never understood what was in it for the faerie."

"Demonic contracts are more about power and corruption than anything else. It's all Faust, unbridled power but it'll corrupt you as you use it. The fae..." And here Strange pauses, mulling things over with a frown. How best to explain this.

"You need to stop thinking of the fae as human. They're anything but. Their thought process is as alien to us as animals, they'll trick or swindle humans simply because it's in their nature. To be blunt, it's dicking people over for the sake of dicking them over." Thoughts play in the back of his head, the story of a man tricked out of...out of something important by a faerie, most likely because the faerie simply could. Strange leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers underneath his chin as he continues to talk. This all feels natural, like he's lecturing a student on this history of things. Perhaps if the accountant thing doesn't work out, he could become a teacher.

"Of course, there are stories of faeries granting people power but again, you mostly hear that with demons. Most people don't willingly serve the fae, they just ask for things." Demons, for all their awfulness, were at least fairly steady in how they were trying to dick you over. The fae were capricious.

It seems Strange shares John's opinion that the fae are monstrous -- which based on his extremely limited personal experience, Lambert can't actually disagree with.

"If they're such dicks, why does anyone want to deal with them at all?" Lambert wants to know. At this point, he's pretty sure the pretense he's asking about all this out of pure academic curiosity is well and truly buggered, but what the hell, as long as Strange is answering questions, he'll keep asking them! "Sounds like more trouble than it's worth."

It's odd. Because it's immensely obvious that Lambert is asking this for some other reason that isn't academic curiosity and Strange has given away the fact that he knows more about the fae than just academic curiosity, but he still has no idea how to ask Lambert what his deal is or what he's truly after.

"Why does anybody make deals with the devil? Because you think that whatever you're going to get is worth more than the price you're going to pay." Duh, Lambert.

"Again, I'd be happy to talk more about this somewhere less public." There's a decided emphasis on public. Weird shit might not be as hidden in Portland as a lot of the practitioners of weird shit think it is, but that doesn't change the fact that one simply doesn't discuss their magical talents out loud in a public library.

At the emphasis on the word public, Lambert will glance around as though noticing for the first time that yes, they are indeed in what technically counts as a public place, He frowns, thumbing his phone screen off and slipping it back into a pocket.

"Maybe later. You look like you've still got a lot to work on." He gestures at the books spread out on the table, broadly indicating their span. Sure, he has no real intention on following up on that suggestion right now, but let Strange think whatever he wants.

"Know any good spots?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Flipping to a blank piece of paper in his notebook, Strange scribbles down an address and telephone number in his surprisingly neat penmanship. Tearing out the piece of paper, Strange slides it over to Lambert. It's an address and office number for the Department of Justice, as well as a telephone number.

"That's where I work and my office number--I've my own office, we could have our conversation there. My work schedule's odd so try to stop by sometime before two pm." It's hard trying to balance a job and Circle business, Strange's hours are erratic by default.

Lambert accepts the paper, brows raised when he sees the address. Of all the places he expected Strange to suggest a meeting to possibly discuss weird arcane shit, the Department of Justice would have been the last places he would have guessed. Just another reminder that he really doesn't know this guy at all, or what he does when he's not harassing librarians about getting books to him faster, what do you mean he can't recall this or that book when it was checked out a day ago?

"Got it." Lambert isn't sure when he'll get a chance to follow this up, but with the Animal Fair coming up tomorrow, maybe this knowlege wouldn't be a bad thing to have ... some kind of preparation, maybe, even if he has no plans on attending the Wyld Fae's little 'party' himself. Though Peridot's interest in it makes him suspect he might have to, anyway...

"Guess I'll see you around, then." He tucks the paper into a pocket and stands from the table. "Put the books away properly when you're finished, will you?" That tone's a bit more familiar to Strange than usual. He's snapped at the man about it often enough. Lambert isn't holding out any hope he'll be better at listening this time, either.

Edited 2017-06-13 18:17 (UTC)

Whereas Strange sees nothing odd about them meeting at the office. A quick internet search of 'Jonathan Strange' brings up his position as an accountant with the Department of Justice. Better they meet there than one of his more private haunts. Besides, the office is warded to high heaven--he's a Circle mage, of course any place remotely important to him will have protective wards out the ass.

"I always put the books away properly," he grumbles, despite the fact that he knows damn well that he hasn't put the books away properly before and won't do it again this time. It's not like it mattered, though. Few people used that section to begin with, so what if something was a little out of place?

"I'll bring the book as well," Strange calls out to Lambert's retreating back. He's a bit too loud as he again gets shushed by the girl at the table next to him and again, Strange gives her a death glare. Smart job peacing out, Lambert.

Naturally, Googling is the first thing Lambert does when he gets a chance to get out of the library -- not something he does, normally, not even to patrons who annoy the shit out of him, but this is a different story. It checks out, at least as far as he can tell on a cursory search, but it's also eminently puzzling and raises more question than it answers. What the hell does an accountant want to do with all these books of magic, anyway?

In all honesty, Lambert didn't think he was going to go. Yet as almost two in the afternoon rolls around? He'll find himself right in front of the Department of Justice anyway. He doesn't bother calling ahead, because he strongly suspects Strange is a man he'll learn more about if he doesn't give him a chance to prepare for him, and also because he's petty enough that he doesn't care if he's making an inconvenience of himself. He's not here to make Strange's life easy.

Asking the receptionist for directions leads him to a dingy, clearly less-used part of the building, older and more poorly lit than some of the more updated facilities. Fortunately, Strange's office isn't difficult to find, and he'll make his way there, taking a moment to pause and touch at the iron letter opener under his shirt before he raps smartly at the door -- or just straight up pushes it open, if it isn't shut.

Edited 2017-06-16 21:09 (UTC)

Guess who's fucking off and not doing his job, hint, it's Strange. He doesn't like to mix work and magic but since he's apparently going to help summon a faerie later (something which is equally exciting and downright terrifying), numbers and sums get to compete with research and centering. Normally, Strange's wards all around the office would alert him to when someone was arriving so that he could cast a quick illusion glamor if he was doing anything overtly creepy or overtly magical. And they alert him this time! The problem is, Strange just straight up isn't paying attention.

So, this is why when Lambert pushes the door open, he'll be greeted with mild magical shit. There's all the boring traits of an accountant: physical ledgers open on the desk and something in Excel open up on the computer. About half of his desk is also covered in various stacks of paper which may or may not make sense. But there's also other, more odd signs. A stack of tarot cards are set next to a printer. The faint smell of licorice permeates the room. And a few of the books on Strange's bookshelf, in between tax codes, are codexes on all sorts of magical nonsense. Plants are growing despite the fact that the office has no windows. Some things are thumb-tacked to a bulletin board that look like phone numbers or lists but, once Lambert stares at them to see past the glamor, are actually complex magical signs, sigils going every which way. What look like golf balls lined up on one shelf are actually various crystals, again hidden by a glamor.

There's also one of those awful 'hang in there!' kitten posters, just to make the entire scene more surreal. It's not magical in the slightest, it's just Strange getting a kitten poster and thinking it's an amazing addition for the office.

Strange had been muttering something under his breath while holding a steaming cup of tea. Putting it to his lips, he drinks, opens his eyes, spots Lambert, and then promptly starts choking on said tea.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, through coughs. "This is why you call ahead of time!"

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hey who's ready for MAGICAL BULLSHIT

~magical bullshit~ fuck yeah

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tiiimeskip maybe?

works for me!

a million years later, prior to whatever's going down with nightshade

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