lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 2

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⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 2

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 7st - 14th, 2017
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: The week begins as the time of the Animal Fair finally arrives! Meanwhile, the truth of this reality starts to be revealed, and forces both human and celestial alike attempt to take advantage of a rare opportunity.
Warnings: Individually marked!

BY ANY OTHER NAME↴

Tensions thicken as various supernaturally forces react to the events of the previous week. Something critical is afoot, and it's only a matter of time before things start coming to a head. It's time to find out more about what's happened to this world, and what will happen in its future.

► A NIGHT AT THE FAIR: From the night of the 7th to the morning of the 8th, the Animal Fair is officially in town. There is a top level down below with more information, though you can also RP content from this elsewhere if you wish. The host, who is very likely something called a Wyld Fae (if you discovered that ICly), will be present, but they will only be appearing to you of their own accord and attempting to track them down by force will be ineffective. Just kick back and relax! Fairs are supposed to be fun.

► THORNS IN YOUR SIDE: Culminating in a full fledged attack against the Sanctuary, it would seem that The Rose Queen is declaring war on the changeling population of Portland. Though the vicious attack of thorns against the safe house was eventually stopped, it wasn't without damage, and the black roses that caused it are still popping up around the city and threatening the places where homeless and lost changelings would be likely to congregate. It's obvious now that this is a serious threat - will it ever stop without an intervention?

► HELL ON EARTH: As Anath's march draws near, the first waves of her demons will be entering the city. Primarily acting as scouts and foot soldiers, these demons will be attempting to secure loyalty from the local demon populace, as well as taking out any angels they can manage to catch. It's a level of aggressiveness against heaven's forces that hasn't been seen for years, and it's a foreboding hint of things to come. These demons can be NPCed by anyone, and will mostly be thugs or manipulators who don't know much about Anath's plans but do know that you need to join their side. They are also rowdier than most of the demons in Portland, and are a threat to the innocent mortal populace as well, if they decide to try to get their kicks here.

► THE WIZARD POLICE: The Enlightenment Council seems to have demanded control of the local Circle chapter, and now backup has arrived. These mages are being sent out into the city as if they are a police force, and will be attempting to demand control of various common supernatural areas, as well as questioning community members that they run into. Whatever is going on, it seems to have resulted in the Council instituting what is essentially martial law... of course, not everyone sees any need to heed their demands. If you are a demon, warlock, or other rogue element, expect to be harassed or even attacked by them. These character can be NPCed, and if you need additional information you can ask the mods.

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As tempting as it would be to blow off his shift at the cafe, Lambert's compelled -- either by masochism or an inability to leave well enough alone -- to remain. Black roses popping up in the vicinity, the occasional magician straying to harass the customers, and a faerie that means to declare war on the locals he's surprised the place hasn't shut down already.

There's something strange going on here, and Lambert's getting increasingly tired of being jerked around and told to stay out of things. He doesn't know how he can feasibly do anything about what's going on, as people keep reminding him, but he knows he doesn't want to sit around on his ass waiting for things to happen.

Which is why he's here, watching the clock until he can speak to a certain mage. Cats wander amongst the seasonal decor in their simple costumes, meowing for attention from the patrons as they bat at ghost-shaped catnip toys or miniature pumpkins.

Nightshade's words still echo through Strange's head. His soul etched with magic from another universe. How would one test for that to begin with? Part of Strange desperately yearns for someone to talk about this with, someone to plan this out and work this through with him. The idea of working with someone feels familiar, in a way. But, reality sets in as Strange realizes that there's no way he'd be able to explain the fact that he got this information from a faerie. And even if he could explain it, who would he share it with? He doesn't really have anybody to fully talk about these things with.

He could have someone though. Lambert has...possibilities, even if the man is an awful librarian. (He isn't, Strange is just an awful patron). So, that's why Strange finds himself accepting the other man's request for a meeting, even showing up at the cat cafe a few minutes before the allotted meeting time. The problem here is that cat cafes have cats. There's something about this place that's familiar, a building just crawling with cats, but that faint sense of familiarity isn't enough to overpower the sheer disgust that Strange feels as one of the horrible little animals brushes up against his leg.

So naturally, he's going to whine about it. Walking up towards the counter, Strange gives Lambert a small little nod, which isn't helped by his expression that looks like the man just ate an entire lemon. "That's offensive, you know," said as he idly gestures towards a cat in a tiny little witch hat.

Lambert snorts. "Cats generally are," is what he responds with, quiet enough that it's for Strange's ears alone. How a man that dislikes cats came to be working in a place with so many is a mystery that shall have to remain generally unanswered, for now.

"Anything to drink or eat for you?" He waves a hand at the menu's assortment of terrible cat-themed drink names, obnoxiously cheerful nametag bouncing with the motion. His expression, at least, is mostly a match for Strange's.

"I doubt you'll have anything fruit-themed?" Strange asks, still a bit disgruntled. It is October, after all, and any sort of seasonal summer fruity flavors were probably shoved back in the storage closet, replaced with pumpkin and gingerbread. The season of fancy fruit teas is slowly coming to an end. A pity, though. Strange would murder for something pineapple-flavored right about now.

"If not, I'll take the sweetest thing on the menu with enough caffeine to kill a small animal." A bit of an odd request coming from Strange but after weeks of that awful sugar free candy Childermass stuck him with, he wants something sweet to make certain that his taste buds still recognize the concept. Besides, this is a cafe. Might as well get something ridiculous and stupid that he can't make himself--and might as well make Lambert earn that paycheck.

It's almost as if merely thinking of Childermass is enough to summon him, the way he walks in not more than a minute later. Thankfully, it isn't a summoning. Strange isn't that powerful. Less thankfully, he... isn't alone. The timing of it is kind of like a perfect storm, where he landed after the mage was already inside and changed to human to step out and head into the cafe himself when a certain someone's ex-wife just happened to have had the same idea as everyone else, apparently.

The cat cafe is miserably popular that way.

Try as he might to find an excuse to be elsewhere, it's all for nothing, because Amanda is dragging the changeling in, chattering on about her day. As far as she's concerned, it's an impromptu date, clearly fate and not just really awful luck. It's a struggle not to let it show on his face, though. Well, up until he spots that, yes, there's Lambert, definitely in on a shift. However, it's actually when his gaze shifts one step over to the man at the counter instead that he visibly displays a grimace for all of three seconds.

"...ah, Amanda, I mean it. I think we should go," he finally cuts her off, digging his heels in at last and stopping her from pulling him along any further.

For better or worse, Lambert doesn't immediately register who enters the cafe, his attention focused on Strange and his apparent desperate need for sugar and caffeine.

"I can make you a Black Furrest with an extra shot of espresso," Lambert shrugs, automatically tapping in the order on the register as he thinks out loud. "That's got chocolate and raspberry syrup in it, and you're definitely not allowed to let the cats have any. Payment's up front and you can find a seat inside."

It's while he's waiting for Strange to fork over the money that he feels the sudden sharp pang in his gut, something that has him looking up sharply over the mage's shoulder. As soon as he sees who's there, his frown immediately deepens into a scowl. What is John doing here? And who the hell is that?

Amanda, for her part, has turned in mild exasperation to face Childermass, her hand still tucked firmly into the crook of his arm. Unfortunately, her short stature won't be enough to let her do more than yank ineffectually at his suddenly unwilling to budge form. She's halfway through teasing him about cat allergies when her gaze finally falls on a familiar mop of messy hair (somehow even messier than when she last saw it) at the counter, and she breaks off halfway through, expression suddenly apprehensive.

Edited 2017-07-03 06:01 (UTC)

Strange takes a few moments to rummage for his wallet in his coat pocket, also not registering who's entered the cafe. It's only when he hears Amanda's familiar voice, a voice he hasn't heard in ages and yet one he misses terribly, that he turns around, seemingly forgetting about the payment. It can't be....

It's amazing how one man can obviously go through such a range of emotion in such a short time. First shock (Amanda? Here?) then confusion (wait, why was she here?) then anger (and why the hell was she here with that changeling?). He looks between Childermass and Amanda, as if he'll somehow pierce together an answer as to why the two of them were here together. He told Childermass to keep tabs on her, not take her out for coffee!

Needless to say, Strange is just gawping for a moment before he retreats back into his usual method of dealing with things he dislikes: being an awful person. And that way she's hanging onto Childermass's arm just makes his blood boil and his temper flare.

"You can do better than that. Has your taste in men really sunken so low?" His expression darkens. And though he's talking to Amanda, Strange's glare is directed solely at Childermass. He's not a physical sort of man but it looks like it's taking every piece of restraint in Strange's body to keep him from hauling off and decking Childermass then and there. Fuck you, changeling.

In the time it takes everyone to get over suspicious, wary, and startled looks, Childermass has composed himself back to the usual neutrality that he likes to cling to so often. Better that than acting on his feelings like some people here (hint: that's obviously Strange).

"Considering what I've heard of you makes it pretty clear you're rock bottom, I'd say it's only gotten better," he shoots back, managing to sound bored with the mage already, even though this, he's sure, is only getting started. Assuming they even stay. He has to outright ignore Lamber for the moment, not taking the chance to try and get across how much this wasn't his idea since he's not really quite sure how to without saying it.

So instead he just looks over and down at Amanda, who's already shrinking back and away as if planning to hide behind Childermass in the face of her ex.

"There are plenty of other places to get coffee. You can always come back to see the cats some other time."

If there's anything Lambert hates, it's being ignored -- but more than that, he's incredibly confused about the fact that Strange and John seem to know each other. More than that, they know each other well enough to fire off words that are clearly personal, something Lambert is missing the context for entirely.

The feeling at the pit of his stomach only intensifies with the verbal salvos they're firing at each other, distracting enough that he finds his fists curling, nails digging into his palm. As such, though he feels instantly piqued at being forgotten, his gaze darts from the changeling to the mage, trying to figure out just what the hell about this he's supposed to be doing something about.

In the meantime, it seems Childermass's open bluntness has given Amanda some courage, as she lifts her chin and looks Strange in the eye. My taste is none of your concern, Jonathan Strange. You certainly weren't interested in listening to my opinions a year ago!

The spat is drawing some attention from the other customers in the cafe. Lambert's coworker is in the back room, meaning he can't even find someone else to foist this on. A few of the older cats, attracted to the noise, slink closer without any apparent concern for the raised voices, eyes fixed on Childermass with an unsettling directness.

Poor Lambert's just going to have to continue being confused as Strange doesn't even bother to explain what's going on. He also doesn't even bother to hide the fact that he's pissed off as hell, as he takes a few steps closer towards the two, raising his voice as he does so, straight up forgetting the fact that they're in a public cafe and he's causing a scene.

"Your taste is entirely my concern if it involves him!" said as he glares in Childermass's direction. That changeling, that lesser being, his servant. Amanda deserves someone so much better than Childermass. She deserves Strange himself. But there's no way to actually tell Amanda about Childermass's lesser status without opening up more questions than Strange is willing to answer. He can bullshit how he knows Childermass. It'll be harder to bullshit if she asks how he knows Childermass is a changeling.

This certainly has nothing to do with the fact that Childermass is chummy with his ex-wife who Strange still carries a not-so-secret torch for, why would people think that, that's not it in the slightest.

"Dearest," he states, as he reaches out towards Amanda, trying to take her hand. It's a combination of the epithet and the action that causes her to pull back from him in disgust. "Just trust me on this."

Honestly, he thinks leaving Lambert out of it entirely is actually being kind to him. Oh, if only he knew...

But he doesn't, so he carries on, focused on Strange. It's a moot point by now, worrying about whether or not he's about to open all of this up to uncomfortable questions because Childermass has little to nothing to lose here. So when the mage goes on claiming that this is all a problem when it involves him specifically, well—

If it involves him? So what if it involves Thomas? That's right. Apparently, he's Thomas now. Amanda carries on, incensed. You don't even know him!

To which Childermass raises his eyebrows at Strange from behind Amanda, now that she's let go of him and marched ahead a step to smack the mage's hand away. Like hell she's about to let him hold her hand! That's right, Strange, you don't even know him, right? Ah, but he leaves off silently antagonizing Strange when he notices a cat lurking a little too close for comfort.

"....shoo," he shushes at it, trying to wave it away. Go, go on, get lost, cat.

Thanks to two very grown adults being too distracted by each other to pay attention to anything else, Lambert has enough time to grunt in irritation, wipe his glasses off, and step out from behind the bar. Though he may be being left out of the conversation deliberately, he does work here, so he's obliged to step in for the sake of not having anything on the premises ruined, if nothing

'"All right, I'm sorry, but I have to ask the two of you and Thomas to take this outside," he says briskly in his best librarian voice (if tinged with genuine irritation, just not the pair of them specifically). It is, in all likelihood, a last useless attempt to avert disaster as he physically steps between the two of them, raising his hands.

"Whatever the problem is, I don't think this is the place to discuss your personal business."

The cats don't seem to mind about the commotion, really. The one inspecting Childermass is undeterred by the changeling's effort to shoo her away, and she's shortly joined by two more looking up at him with dilated pupils, licking their chops.

The attempt is absolutely useless as Strange gives Lambert a look that's particularly poisonous before he tries to move around the other man to continue the conversation. This isn't the place to discuss personal business? Like hell it is! Strange attempts to walk towards Amanda again, not picking up on the slightest that she doesn't want to be anywhere near him.

"Oh, the problem's obvious. Amanda, my Amanda, is associating with this--" don't say changeling, pick any word but changeling, "--degenerate who really should have known well enough to leave her alone in the first place." It's said through gritted teeth as Strange glares at Childermass. He wanted information on what his ex-wife was doing. That wasn't license to flirt with her!

It's that line that causes Amanda to continue on the fight as well. YOUR Amanda? she snaps, giving Strange a poisonous look of her own. Of course you'd think I'm YOUR Amanda!

By now a few of the other patrons are watching with mixed interest and horror, gossiping and chattering among themselves as they do. Should someone call security? Wasn't that beefy guy security in the first place? That poor woman, men really should know how to take no for an answer. Shouldn't her boyfriend be doing something?

Yeah, her "boyfriend" should be doing something, but it's not like he can just haul off and punch the guy. That's basically the same thing as punching himself. The gathering cats get a vaguely nervous glance — no, he just doesn't like them, he just doesn't — and then he makes an attempt to put space between himself by also stepping between Strange and Amanda, hands raised up, fingers spread in a somewhat placating gesture though he already knows that's bloody useless.

And even though he isn't actually attached to the woman (after all, he's just been spying on her and this was a general excuse to spite the mage), he will, at least, defend her. They share something in common, even if Amanda doesn't know it, and that's absolutely despising Strange.

"How about you listen to the man and back off, Strange," he states, bored tone gaining a heated edge as if something about him going about calling someone his pisses him off (pro-tip: it does). "She's your ex, not property."

The unhappy swoop of his stomach hasn't settled -- if anything, it's only gotten worse. It's a pain in the ass, having precognition that can't give you anything more concrete to work with, but that he still feels it at all means the disaster hasn't been averted, surely. Lambert regrets letting himself think, even for a moment, that Strange might actually be useful.

As he and Childermass step into the same space, the four of them in an odd standoff, Lambert can't think of a single way to defuse the situation that doesn't involve punching somebody. Fucking hell, though, he's feeling less and less like averting a fight right now.

"Enough. Can you all just shut up?" he snarls, surly and harsh enough that it makes a few of the other patrons gasp -- and Amanda, take a step back like she'd like to retreat behind Childermass again. Lambert's never been the warmest or most welcoming of servers ever, but despite the height he lacks on either of the other two men here, the way his scar twists up and his teeth bare, he looks genuinely dangerous for a moment. There's a lingering feeling that it shouldn't end there -- that there's something more that he can do to enforce that -- but whatever it is, it slips from his mind like water.

Strange isn't surrounded, per se, but being glared at on both sides by men who can probably both deck him really easily has pushed his fight or flight instinct squarely to fight. And oh, here comes Lambert, meddling in things he doesn't understand again. Strange turns from glaring at Childermass to glaring at Lambert. His anger and hatred of the whole situation is bouncing from target to target and, at least right now, it's settled on Lambert solely for the fact that he's here and he's being a bother.

"Make me," Strange responds with venom in his voice as he turns to Lambert with a glare, seemingly unaware of the fact that this will most likely end up with him getting punched again. Was that response incredibly petty? Absolutely. But Strange is just livid at this turn of events and the fact that Lambert's decided to actually interject himself in this as well. There goes any thought of working with the man. At least, in Strange's mind, Lambert's picked his side and that side is firmly siding with Childermass.

"Once again, you're sticking your nose in something you know nothing about. Go...I don't know, play with the cats or something." He's halfway tempted to just shove the man out of the way himself if he keeps being a nuisance.

For Childermass's part, well, he actually does shut up. As much as he'd love to keep taunting Strange into something, possibly even admitting just how he knows him, Lambert finally stepping is something he'll back down from. For one, it's Lambert. He's actually making an effort to stay on the man's good side. On top of that, they're causing this fuss in his place of business.

If anyone's going to be the one getting the cops called on them or possibly just punched, it's not going to be Childermass, thanks. Instead, he'll make a point to remain between Amanda at Strange (and technically Lambert, but he knows there's nothing to fear there). Instead, he'll just watch, eyebrows raised, but making no further comment.

It also gives him a moment to try and gently push the cat that's been bold enough to come right up to his nearest leg, headbutting against it and going as far as stretching up to put claws through his jeans. C'mon! He doesn't need this right now! Worse, he just knows the rest are plotting to join in!

Edited 2017-07-05 01:48 (UTC)

With two parties out of three cooperating, at least, Lambert can turn to focus his attention to Strange, snorting. No doubt about it, the man is an idiot. Lambert would respect his stubborn determination in the face of clearly unfavorable odds more if that stubbornness weren't making his life harder right now.

"In case you haven't noticed, Strange, some of us work here," he snaps back, doing his best to keep his voice low even if all it does is make the bottleneckers on this trainwreck of a confrontation lean in. "I just need you to take your stupid fight outside. I don't need to actually know why you're being such a goddamn pissbaby."

That does make Amanda's hand fly to her mouth, cheeks turning pink as she fails to suppress a small, startled laugh. She's probably always wanted to call him that, but hearing someone else actually say that to his face...

The circling cats, in the meantime, do step closer to Childermass. One particularly enterprising one starts to attempt to climb up his leg and shoulder. One white one with a collar, though, appears to take particular exception to Strange's tone, hissing at him from a near table. Not even the cats are happy with him, apparently.

Edited 2017-07-05 02:10 (UTC)

It's the fact that Amanda laughs at him that pushes Strange over the edge. He's not exactly good at hiding his emotions and that brief flash of hurt in his expression is apparent to everyone in the room. But, as it has for this whole conversation, stubborn determination and bad decisions win out overall.

You know what! Fuck this! They're all conspiring against him, they're all trying to make him look foolish for the perfectly sensible belief that his wife shouldn't date a changeling. Childermass didn't love her like he did. Amanda didn't realize the man was using her. And Lambert's got to be the jackass that goes and makes everything worse. There's a brief flash of something wild and mad in Strange's eyes before he turns to Lambert, glare on his face, fists clenched.

Amanda's the only one who recognizes the warning signs for what they are as her humor turns to annoyance. Oh for christ's sake, Jonathan-- she starts.

Amanda's warnings fall on deaf ears. Because, still writhing at being insulted, still smarting at Amanda laughing at him, Strange just straight up attempts to punch Lambert in the face. Of course, the key word here is attempts because Strange telegraphs this punch far too obviously, he can't punch worth a damn, and whether it's Lambert or the magic of this place, something's going to stop him before his fist actually connects.

Edited 2017-07-05 02:20 (UTC)

The funny thing about all this, as Lambert will probably have to explain later, is that this is the precise outcome that Lambert had been hoping to avert. It doesn't matter that Strange has as much arm strength as a wet towel, or that Lambert's already reacting, reaching out to grab Strange by the front of his shirt as he dodges out of that sloppy punch.

All the magic cares about is that Strange tried. For those with the ability to sense it, there's a brief, heavy pulse of magic in the room, and the cats will actually turn to look at Strange as one, even as the spell compels every ordinary human in the room to suddenly find somewhere else to look in the time it takes for Strange to disappear.

Not exactly disappear, really, thought to human eyes it will be. It's as instant as Childermass's crow spell, and perhaps fortunately for the mage, it also means his clothes are transformed with him. On Strange's end, it will feel like a sudden unpleasant tingle across his skin before it suddenly tightens and the world shifts perspective and blurs. Suddenly, he'll find himself not standing on his feet but falling to the floor, or at least he would be if Lambert's hand wasn't there, clumsily grabbing him under his arms.

His very fuzzy arms, as it happens, since Jonathan Strange, fourth rank mage of the Circle of Enlightenment, has suddenly and abruptly found himself turned into a cat being held by a barista whose anger has slipped into shock and panic as he recognizes what's just happened.

Edited 2017-07-05 02:42 (UTC)

Childermass misses it himself, dealing with the cat that's managed to scale to his hip as well as the one who's taken a leap at him, meaning his own arms are full of cat and his preference for dark clothing is absolutely ruining him in a place like this.

"Oh, for the love of—"

But then Amanda yells No! Don't! at Strange and he snaps his attention back up in time to see Lambert holding yet another cat aloft and no mage in sight. Amanda, however, happened to throw her hands up over her eyes, as though she couldn't bear to watch Strange totally fail at effectively punching anyone, anyone at all. She, too, misses it, although it's thanks to whatever 'don't look' clause had been built into the spell.

"Ah," he squints at the cat, then at Lambert, "Lambert...?"

What happened?

Is it over— Amanda peeks out from behind her hands, then frowns, immediately just as confused as Childermass, if only for other reasons. Where did he go?

The cat is an older cat, with short orange fur and gray on it's head in the exact same pattern that Strange has gray in his own hair. It's skinny as a rake with legs that are longer than normal. Strange himself has no idea what's going on, why everything's gotten so big, what that powerful surge of magic was, and why he has an odd desire to see if he can eat the large bird (no, wait, not a bird, that's the changeling), until he looks down and sees paws. His paws.

What the shit.

There's a distant memory of something like this happening to someone else, as well as a voice, possibly Strange's own voice, laughing in triumph as this happens. That will be investigated later because right now, Strange is freaking the fuck out. He's a cat! What the hell?! Almost instantly he starts yowling and hissing as he tries to wriggle out of Lambert's arms. Strange is using every weapon at his disposal to try and get out of Lambert's grasp as he straight up attempts to bite Lambert on the hand. He's operating on pure instinct right now, the instinct in question being 'this is bad,' 'I don't like this,' and 'I would like all of my feet on the ground, please.'

Any illumination from Lambert on the matter will have to wait since he's abruptly dealing with an armful of pissed-off cat, which is -- hilariously -- more capable of doing him damage than Strange as a human ever could.

For better or worse, though, this isn't his first time dealing with a cat that wants nothing to do with him, although it is the first time he's had to deal with a shitty mage turned into one. While Strange draws blood with teeth and claws? He's just going to take advantage to bring up his other hand to grab the cat's nape to immobilize him.

"Get your girlfriend home, Thomas," he tells Childermass wearily, before glancing over to the side, where Julie's come out to see what all the commotion's about. Great, she couldn't have come five minutes ago?

"I'm taking my break!" Without another word, he's striding out towards the back door leading to the alley behind the cafe, pushing through the door and into the cold autumn air.

'Get your girlfriend home', huh? Well, it isn't the wrong idea to take away from this mess, but Childermass doesn't plan on it. He'll see her out of the cafe and to the corner, then beg off, much to her open displeasure. She really needed someone there after such an upsetting run in and he's running off again? Like he always does? She's really not in the mood for excuses—

Which is as far as she gets before she's startled by him suddenly vanishing. Without knowing to look for a shadow zipping away into the shade cast by another building, he's gone and she has no idea how nor where. It's unkind, but that wasn't going to last forever, anyway. Ultimately, Strange would be right about how bad a relationship with the likes of him would be, but it's not like he'll ever agree out loud.

So it's about five minutes before he appears in the alley directly behind the cat cafe, appearing out of the shadows as he usually does (or at least usually does with Strange, he's done it less with Lambert).

"What the hell was that?"

Being moved by the scruff of his neck means that Strange can't swipe and attack Lambert as much as he wants to. He still manages to give Lambert a few good gashes on his arm that'll probably need tending to later, but it's not the level of carnage it could be. The kitty hissy fit continues for two minutes as Strange just tries to continue to swipe at or bite Lambert, mostly because really, what else can he do? All of his options are shit but this one at least produces results.

Eventually, he gives up and it's then that the dawning horror sits in. Oh God. He's a cat! Even if he knew a counterspell, he couldn't cast it, due to the fact that he was a cat! Cats can't speak! So the remaining two or so minutes are spent with Strange in a slightly subdued state as he goes over all of his options. It's not like he can ask anybody from the Circle to lift the curse. He barely knows any other mages to begin with, and the ones in the Council...well, he knows they wouldn't give him the time of day. He's certainly not trusting any warlock or demon to lift the curse. Perhaps Nightshade? But how would he contact her to begin with?

Thankfully, Childermass reappearing distracts Strange from the worst case scenario he's crafting in his mind. Strange wriggles out of Lambert's grasp and walks over towards the changeling. He's giving Childermass a downright terrified expression, which looks rather odd on a cat but look, Lambert can't do magic so the changeling's his only hope. Strange certainly isn't trying to claw Childermass the way he clawed Lambert--he's smaller now, lord only knows if the spell of retribution would take size differences into account. Instead, he simply sits at Childermass's feet and meows a bit pathetically, lightly pawing at Childermass's shoe.

Fix this please, large bird. Or pick him up, either would work.

a series of unfortunate events [closed to childermass + strange]

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