lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4

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⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: October 22nd - 31st, 2017
Where: In Portland, for the last time.
What: The seasons change as the Winter Court seizes a surprise victory, claiming both the Tree of Life's pendant and the blood catalyst needed to take control of the Severing Ritual. Meanwhile, interdimensional problems are about to get more weird. Check out the conflict results for the attack on the Circle as well as the Beast's attack on the Summer Court here.
Warnings: Individually marked!

DAYS OF WINTER↴

As the end of October nears, so does the grasp of winter. On the night of the 22nd, it will freeze overnight, and the temperature will drop for the following days. As the night grow long, world-wide magic slowly reaches it apex, set to reach it on the night of Halloween. With so many factors at play, knowing what to do with that moment of power may be a challenge.

► FULL CIRCLE: The Angels succeed in their planned attack on the Circle, managing to get to the living quarters of the Council members with the help of Ashleigh Mischief. The plan goes without much resistance from the mages or from the demons attempting to claim the ritual object for their own. Of course, when the fae make a surprise attack on the Angels after they flee the scene, it has the surprise result of the Winter Court ended up with the pendant in their talons. Threads for this attack can be done in this log. If you need mod direction at all, let us know, but otherwise feel free to NPC demons, angels, or random Circle members as you require.

► THE QUEEN'S GARDEN: Realizing that the Rose Queen is distracted with attempting to claim the pendant, the Beast will summon her co-conspirators to raid the Queen's gardens. The ultimate plan seems to be to get the Beast far enough into the gardens to kill the Queen, while also rescuing as many changelings as possible along the way. As it turns out, this doesn't go well. While they do manage to penetrate the gardens with Childermass's help, the Rose Queen, Ignatius, and Nightshade happen to all be there. Seriously outnumbered, even by the Beast's terms, it will take everything the group has to just make it out alive, sustaining heavy injuries as they go. In the end they will manage to rescue Greg universe and four additional changelings that were imprisoned there, but any damage done to the Summer Court itself will be negligible. Threads for this can also be played out here!

► REFLECTIONS: As the ritual draws closer, the line between this reality and the one you came from will also be becoming less clear. Regaining memories is not required, but it will naturally become easier to occur, especially if you're already started receiving them. It's a good time to start making connections, while you still have the chance.

► THE SEVERING: One way or another, the Severing is going to make an impact on both this world and the lives of those trapped inside of it. The Angels are going to be making an attempt to interrupt the Winter Court's ritual, as will the Summer Court and Anath's forces. Whoever comes up on top will be the ones to decide what to be done with it. Yet, with news that the Severing continuing could cause irreversible damage to the planet's spirit, it could feel like there are no perfect options. There will be an event header put up for this by the mods closer to the end of July.

(NOTE: canon powers will returning while the ritual is in progress, so keep that in mind for planning - both sets of powers will be active.)

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Hmn... maybe?

[Carly can't see it but very slightly Yugo tilts his head. He hasn't thought of the spell's structure in that way before. But it's not like Yugo is familiar to every fine intricacy that could be present in such magics.

And despite it coming out of left field, Yugo seems to perk up despite his still immense overall weakness.]

... I remember riding a motorcycle...! And being really good at it! ... No wait it was a... [Because if the term didn't feel quite right, what else could it be?]

... a D-Wheel..! ... I think?

"Not too far. We'll have to either walk or take the bus--oh damn." He still had Yuya's bus pass. He really should return it to the kid sometime soon. It wasn't like he could drive, after all (could Yuya drive? He was twelve, right, they couldn't let twelve year olds drive)

With a little shake of his head, Strange turns back to Lambert. "Anyway, walking or taking the bus, your choice."

After all, it's not like he has fun teleporting magic like Childermass does, especially considering his stupid English magic won't work in stupid Portland. What good are memories of traveling through mirrors if you can't actually do it?

Jonathan Strange, urban commuter. It's a weird mental image, and though Lambert gives him a strange look for that sudden exclamation, he decides he doesn't really want to know.

"Bus," he says after a moment. There's a couple of stops around the corner, and he steps out of the alley to begin walking there, still tender on his feet. Although now that they're on the move, he can finally notice how mildly fucked up Strange is looking beyond what poisoning himself could get into.

"What happened to you? Pissed the wrong person off?"

Edited 2017-07-27 01:25 (UTC)

Lambert should have known that mage couldn't be trusted for anything. So please help me get him back, yeah right! He was an idiot to believe that. After some hours without a response from the mage turn into days, it throws an unfortunate wrench in their plans. At the very least, if Strange is avoiding people, he's not the only one: neither Yuya or Rita can get ahold of him, either.

A flurry of text messages and exchanging addresses later, they're here in Strange's apartment building, standing in front of his currently very locked door, contemplating breaking and entering. It looks ordinary enough from the outside, and there isn't any light coming from underneath, but Lambert thumps the door anyway.

"Strange! Did you accidentally manage to kill yourself?" he calls through the door, heedless of how that sounds. There is, naturally, no response, and he turns to his younger companions with a frown.

"Either of you any good at picking locks? Or do you have other ideas?"

... Same on joining that carnival, but I don't remember much of you guys. Weird.

[Or maybe the place was too big to think of running into specific fellow co-workers. Yugo also has a feeling he won't have much else to add to that personal-sounding topic though, like a third wheel.

Probably for the best?]

And I'm not as old as I should be, so it's probably the same for Noboru?

[Eyes back to the vampire.]

By the way is there some other name you're usually called?

Strange starts walking as well, pulling his coat tighter around himself to brace against the cold. He follows Lambert but jams his hands into his pockets as he does so. Was it always this cold this time of year?

"How much have I told you about the ritual? It requires an item of great power as well as the catalyst--the Winter Court have both now, by the way. There was a fight for the item of power, it was all a bit chaotic." An angel punched him in the face, it was awful.

There's a pause, because now that he's not being interrogated, he can see that Lambert's a bit fucked up as well--and that's before the fact that he's walking funny. "What happened to you?"

"I couldn't exactly get precise coordinates, but they definitely disappeared somewhere over in Chinatown. If I looked at a map I might even be able to narrow it down to a few blocks."

She twitches her little pig nose, pausing briefly. "...Look, I know it was dangerous to do that, but. We got attacked by a bunch of birds, and I didn't know why, at the time. It just made sense to follow them to see where they were going. At least now you know where to start?"

"Hey!" He pouts at the jab, but does make his way inside of the room. He plops down on the couch--with a quick, regretful grunt of pain as he lands on a bruise wrong.

"You're doing okay?" As okay as they can be, all things considered. "Has anyone hard from John since we attacked the Summer Court?"

He can always hope the guy magically escaped, right?

[Briefly Yugo looks away. In no way is that an easy realization to stomach. Maybe the only right thing to do here is.]

I can go. If you wanna go back to being normal and just forget about me.

[The choice is hers. The angel holds his hand out and with a flick of his wrist, an almost trading card-shaped form flickers into view within his fingers, threads of light connecting them through it.]

Papyrus, feeling very sorry for himself, freezes at the muttered expletive. Somehow that's a surprise equal to anything else that's happened in this room; do angels swear? It seems like something they wouldn't do. Maybe that's just with certain kinds of cursing.

He listens in rapt silence as the angel doesn't swear anymore, but does awkwardly admit that others have been dreaming similar things... and then asks for more details. As if there's something important to it all. A whole thing, one that he confirmed just now, one the angel feared. Which, fair. The skeleton war is great as a joke, but as a possible actual past life, with frozen caves and literal hellscapes and whatever other awful places they went through... kind of awful to consider.

"I'm not the only one who... really!?"

And past the drama of skeleton war mysteries, getting into the idea of actually being... related. Papyrus likes to think of himself as having the potential of being a great brother. It's an encouraging thought. One he's not really living up to with his decisions lately, dropping everybody to go play with demons. Maybe that's why the angel took the notion of second chances so... intensely, if this already is one. Before they even met, Papyrus put himself on the opposite side of an ancient war. Shit, indeed.

Still, for all it's yet another sharp bend in the whiplash of these last few minutes, it's a relatively positive one for him. He swallows the lump in his throat and does his best to clear it before outlining things.

"He's... He was sad, I don't remember why."

Or maybe the skeleton Papyrus never knew why, but that seems the worst possible explanation.

"Quick to joke about it, and himself, and anything. As if joking meant problems weren't real," he slips into a bitter, familial tone at that. Concerned and frustrated. "Making progress, having setbacks, going back and forth between... between doing nothing, and doing everything on his own."

A: I'm gonna need some coffee and some donuts (outside the Shanghei tunnels)

Tamaki normally isn't the sort of person to take on dangerous missions, or to let himself be relied on by others. Or, at least, he thought he wasn't, but the steady drip of memories of another life returning to him have him going through a bit of an identity crisis.

Regardless of if this is something either himself or Other Tamaki would have done, he agreed to stakeout the Shanghei tunnels, and that's what leads to him floating a bit nearby the entrance, for the moment not doing too much to hide his presence (though he's ready to duck through a wall or possess a nearby potted plant at any moment). While he stands on the sidewalk, people occasionally pass through him and shiver, passing through a spot colder than even the crisp October air.

He's watching the tunnel pretty intently, although he sometimes shifts around and lets his gaze wander to other things. He thought a stakeout would be a lot more... exciting, than this. Movies cut the boring parts.

B: I walked with you once upon a dream (around Portland)

Since learning that his mother, who he now (somewhat disturbingly) clearly remembers dying, is not known to the earth spirit, Tamaki has been remembering more and more things. An orphanage, warmer and kinder than the one he grew up in. A dorm, full of friends who sing and dance and laugh. He thinks he might have been famous.

He doesn't fully understand what the memories mean, but he believes them. He's not supposed to be a foster kid who was abandoned and dead, no, he's somebody else. It's the first thing that's given him hope in a long time.

And along with it all are memories of a carnival. The people who worked there are clearest in his mind, of all the people from his other memories. Maybe he also worked there?

Sometime before his stakeout (or after ~~assuming nothing goes horribly wrong~~), Tamaki is wandering the streets, trying to answer those questions. It's been some time since he's been able to move freely like this - maybe that's also an effect of his new memories.

And that's when he spots a familiar face; maybe it's a friend, or only someone he's seen in passing, but either way, there's a spark of recognition.

And suddenly, there is a teenager darting across the road to talk to you - luckily, that car that didn't even seem to notice him passed harmlessly through him. He waves an arm.

"Hey!"

[ The text message, when Sora gets it, comes a day after the attack on the Summer Court, as soon as Lambert's able to pull his head together and sort his head out. ]

Your vision's starting to come true. Have you started seeing anything else?

Something in Lambert snaps taut at that, makes him gather himself up despite his injuries, glaring at the fae. Given what he's just seen the fae be capable of, one would think he'd be a bit more circumspect, but in this case anger trumps sense.

"John Childermass is the name of the changeling whose help you squandered!" he snaps. "And if that's really how you think about things, no wonder you can't get anything but animals to follow you!"

In his angelic life, Sans has little concept of being related to anyone. He's never really thought about whether or not he'd be a good brother to someone, because it was something humans did. Whether he'd made a good guardian, or a good caretaker, yes. He'd always wished he could have been made into that role, instead. Just having a single ward to stay with seems like it would have been a blessing, compared to having to guard all wandering souls.

It seems like keeping himself separate from this theoretical other him is important right now - not fully committing to the idea that this brother Papyrus is describing is him or even could be him. Maybe it's just easier to discuss that way, if he denies all connection. Even though, based on what he says, it all sounds terribly right.

It's possible to see - perhaps especially for Papyrus, with some innate ability to read skeletal faces - the way his expression falls at that description. Sad. That's the first word used. The first words to describe his person with. Sad, but tries to distract from it with mirth and with lethargy.

"Right."

Maybe that's just a part of himself, no matter where or who he is. He doesn't know.

"...So," he starts, uncomfortable and breaking up, but trying to persevere. "Whaddya think? Do you... want to be this guy you're remembering? The skeleton one? Or... is it all just..."

His hands tug at his hoodie, his eyes all still facing the floor.

"...Not what you were hoping for..."

Edited 2017-07-27 02:59 (UTC)

With only mild bitching from his end and moderate threatening from Lambert, Strange has been dragged by Lambert back to the Wolfe house. Something about trying to track a feather? Thinking back on it, Strange shouldn't have yammered about sympathetic magic too much, Lambert was starting to do things like get ideas and think he knows how magic works. Whatever. It'd be good if they managed to find something, but he's going to summon up Nightshade and ask for her help later. At least for Strange, this evening won't be a total lost cause.

In true Strange fashion, he's complaining at Lambert pushes open the door.

"...of course I've tried scrying already, but this is a fae realm. I'll need at least an attempt at a coven to make any sort of headway, and--oh! Good evening, Miss Wolfe."

As he spots Peridot, Strange's mood turns on a dime, going from bitching and moaning to oddly pleased. All the better. If she's here, then they actually have a chance at getting something done.

Despite all odds, that accusation violently grabs her attention, in a way that no amount of sulking can ignore. Her claws dig into the wood she sits on, her accent colours shifting from green to orange, and starting to glow like embers. Her wings flair out, and her tail snaps.

"I squandered it?" she growls, staring him down with slit eyes. "Men and changelings are as much beasts as the rest of them. You were lucky that I thought to aid your meaningless causes in the first place!"

She leaps down to the forest floor, approaching him.

Lambert's getting accustomed to tuning Strange's bitching out, having recently confirmed that 90% of it doesn't requite any of his input or consideration and that the magician will carry on regardless of what he says or doesn't say. He's already comfortably deaf to the mage's complaints, holding the door open for him to step inside with a desperately bland expression on his face, though he blinks and glances between his sister and Strange when the mage suddenly turns chirpy.

What the hell?

"You two know each other?"

Rita already vented some of her frustration with Strange to the two accompanying her earlier, so it's no secret that she's irritated with the guy. What kind of person makes a carefully-negotiated alliance with an enemy, then immediately drops contact? That jerk. He'd better be dead.

Picking locks, though? "It's not too hard, with the right spells," Rita replies casually, then says a few words and holds out her hands. This isn't her lock-picking spell, though; it's a magic detection spell. "... Hmph. Just like I thought. The bigger problem's going to be the magic ward he's got set up here." Fortunately, it's not overly dangerous to intruders... but its composition is a bit complex, compared to what Rita's seen before.

"Give me a minute and I'll get rid of it." Rita already used magic to break into the homes of two other magic-users in Portland, tampering with their magic protections along the way. She can probably crack this one, too. Dropping the detection spell, Rita sets about casting a different spell to attempt to dispel the ward.

Despite his injuries, Lambert stands his ground, refusing to be intimidated. It's easy to turn fear into anger, when so much of it is roiling under his skin. Fear for his sisters, fear for Childermass, helpless to do anything for so much of it except go from face to face that he knows and beg for help.

Although if it's this kind of help he can expect, maybe he'd be better off without it.

"Meaningless? You're one to talk!" He cocks his hip and shifts his weight, shifting the pitch of his voice. "'I don't like the Rose Queen's face, so I've decided to destroy her for a laugh!'" He drops it a beat later, exhaling.

"You helped them to satisfy your ego. That's all." And that's why he thought to come here in the first place: to appeal to that ego again.

Yuya doesn't voice that he's worried Strange might be dead, but it's hard not to be worried that Strange might be dead. All three of them going to voicemail trying to reach him, and it's been days...

He glances around as Rita starts to undo the ward. "I can open the window outside." He points ahead. "I dunno if he has that warded too, but if you can get rid of the magic I can get us in."

Lambert is so lucky he managed to find the two people in Portland who know how to break and enter.

It's not much, but it is a start. His heart's still barely slowed down, and all the aches are starting to set in, but ... there's a little sliver of hope there.

"Yeah," he says, after a few moments when it seems like he's not about to say anything at all. "It's something. Thanks, Dot." He swallows after he says that, glancing to the side again.

"... Guess we're not going to figure this out staying here. We should go home." Where they will, inevitably, have to explain to Miko what the hell just happened to them.

There's a lot going on. Iuliael helped in the raid on the Circle mostly by being distracting, but in fairness being a flying mass of wings and eyes and singing loudly turns a lot of heads, even before you add the little magic he has. No one entrusted him with the artifact, which he'd been just fine about, so it wasn't his fault when it was taken. He still felt bad, and anxious about raiding the Winter Court.

So much more could go wrong but, also, there's the future. Iuliael is going to die, or something like that. When the Severing ends, there are a few possibilities. Perhaps his connection with the Dove of God will return, either immediately or as connections with Heaven are more formally reestablished, and he will once again just be the hand and eye and voice of a ranking seraphim. Or perhaps he's just plain not real and will revert to that werebeast Julien, and be nothing but a memory, he's not entirely sure how all of that works. Either way, he has little hope that anything of him, of the personality and thoughts he collected over the past agonizing quarter century, would survive.

The Winter Court's ritual continuing unopposed would stop avert, as far as he can tell. He'd live. That's not worth it. Even if the Earth Spirit recovered despite the strain, that's not worth it. But the angel is still going to pause and feel melancholy about this, and try to take in the beauty of this world while he's still here to see it.

Before they move on it, before he hears anything about plans, Iuliael takes the time to sit, human-shaped for a bit, admiring the sky and distributing the contents of a supermarket bag of dried lentils to a flock of pigeons. He's singing, of course.

Rita nods. "I'm fine." Fine isn't really the word for it, but the pain medicine's working, and she knows she'll recover... even if it'll leave some ugly scars. Still, she can't bring herself to complain about her injuries. Rita knew the risks when she attacked the Summer Court, and she's lucky to be alive and free right now.

His second question, however, is answered with a shake of her head. Her gaze turns downward, to the book in her lap. "The Winter Court took him. They won't let him go easily." It bothers Rita... Childermass knew her real name, before she even realized she had another name. If there's a connection between the two of them, Rita needs to find that out... but the Winter Court's interference is making that impossible right now.

After a pause, she turns to Yuya and glances over him with an appraising look. "What about your injuries?"

Rita looks up at him, furrowing her brow as she struggles to find the meaning in his question. "What carnival? Why the hell would I be at some stupid..."

... Carnival? It brings to mind a few familiar images, of colorful tents and tacky artificial lights, obnoxious crowds, a small bed in a cramped little room... Suddenly, Rita's not so sure she's never been to one. "Was there a carnival...?"

"I'm fine!" He waves his hands quickly, brushing it off. He's still covered in bandages, and it still hurts... but it isn't enough to keep him in bed. "I'm more worried about everyone else. Everything is getting more violent." And they have to stop the Winter Court on top of everything else. He bites his lip a moment, sinking back into the couch.

"They have the pendant too, but the angels aren't going to give up. We still have a chance to stop this and save him." He glances over to Rita. "Did you ever... I mean, was Axel...?"

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⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4

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closed to yuya + rita, post-strange kidnapping

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open, early in the week

closed to sora;

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MAGE PARTY, mid week, closed to strange, peridot & lambert the peanut gallery

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OPEN

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