lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4 PT2

The ice is mostly gone thanks to a variety of colored hellfires, the Count has made a cowardly escape, and his daughters and their sacrifice are left standing dumbfounded. Fae.

And of course, that's when Zangetsu manages to get a better look at the daughters, one of them in specific. It was her. The one that had stolen the pendant from him while he wasn't paying attention. Oh yeah. She was going to pay.

He makes his move quickly, charging forward on all six of his creepy angel legs and aiming to plow right into one of the crow daughters. If she doesn't manage to get out of the way, the dragon head growing from the base of his spine starts biting and ripping and tearing -- along with all the claws on his hands.

Yuya leaps out of Yugo's arms as they descend into the circle, looking determined and proud as the Count begins to dissolve. "We did it! Now we can--"

Everyone else busts in at much the same time, but what cuts him off is Lambert screaming as he thrusts his blade into the pillar and breaks Childermass free. It's even worse a sight of close, but at least he's safe. Now they just have to find the pendant and take control of the ritual.

"Lambert, you..." are now doubling over and puking up blood. "Lambert!" He runs straight for them, panicked.

Well, the daughter only sort of gets out of the way - which is all she ends up needing to do, because shortly after setting Peridot down with a glowing "nice one!", Sans has witnessed this about to occur. Now that the count has gone down, the wind is much less distracting - meaning there is nothing stopping him from summoning his scythe and putting himself between Zangetsu and the crow daughter.

Sans is a much smaller angel, his his wings and halo are flared bright as he blocks defensively with his weapon, holding the warrior angel back. This isn't what he's made for, but he'll try.

"Knock it off," he snaps. "She's a changeling, man. She's brainwashed."

Edited 2017-07-28 20:56 (UTC)

Well. That's... gruesome. And something he's going to have to deal with, not now but any second. Foster's ears flip back back, just briefly, at the sound of hooves, but the Count is gone and all he cares about now is the pendant.

Their ticket home.

His ticket to stopping them.

He doesn't have a clear plan here--not for finding it before someone else. He lowers his head, sniffing for it in the snow--but listening and watching for when someone else claims it first.

Steven sees all of this unfold as he tries to cross the spike filled courtyard, raising his shield defensively out of the wind. He sees Peridot and Yuuya make their attacks, and Lambert cut down the wall - he sees the Count take a hit and melt into shadow. His pace quickens.

Then he sees Lambert and Childermass both fall limply to the ground, and tears are already springing to his eyes. Suddenly, he finds himself jumping - and then just sailing higher and higher, like he's flying, his wings flapping gentle as he ascends into the ritual circle.

"Lambert!" he gasps, running towards the pile of snow and the two bleeding men. "Is... are... are they..."

The myriad eyes on his other head stop swirling about and stay in one place, narrowing into glares. Then they close, and reopen as too many mouths with blunt human teeth. When he speaks, he speaks in hundreds of voices from the mouths and from the mouth of the dragon.

"I don't care. She made a fool out of me! I won't allow it," he says with contempt. Then all his mouths laugh in unison. "And if you think you can stand in my way, you have another thing coming!"

He raises one of his sickle-like middle legs and moves to knock Sans aside.

Edited 2017-07-28 21:18 (UTC)

No, no, no. Yuya kneels beside them, leaning over as he looks for signs of life. He puts one hand on Childermass's chest to feel for a heartbeat while trying to listen for breathing from Lambert.

"They're alive," He breathes out, but he doesn't sound relieved. They were alive, but how long did they have? "They're alive but--isn't there anyone with healing magic?" That was the specialty of angels, right? And they have a lot of angels. "We need it now!"

They needed help. They're all supposed to get out of here and back to the carnival--back home. All of them.

Sans darts aside too rapidly to see with the naked eye, dodging the attempted swipe but refusing to get out of Zangetsu's grill either. Instead he brandishes his scythe, slicing inward and trying to sever that entire arm.

"No wonder Marmaroth was such a crap angel," Sans says, his seven eyes slanted and deadly. "This source material is weak."

Taako scrunches up his face at Lambert's... situation, but it's only a second before he recovers, tapping the side of Garyl's neck to get his attention. The binicorn stops short, but more carefully this time, ensuring Taako remains safely seated on his back.

"What's up, magic man?"

"We're looking for a pendant," comes his answer, and he frowns, scanning the area the best he can; there's some kind of scuffle going on between an angel and some other dudes, and that catches his eye. There's only one of those original casters left, and it's the one that guy is going after. Does that mean she's the one with the MacGuffin?

"Foster! Hey!" He calls to him, cupping hands over his mouth. "I think we've gotta get up there!"

Damn, where is that pendant? While Yuya's preoccupied with worrying over Lambert, something else much louder has Yugo's attention.

"Oiii...!!!"

The not-really-fellow dragon angel guardian charges forward to snatch at Zangetsu's tail, yanking if his claws do catch hold of it.

"You knock it off! We still have to be on the same side right now...!"

Peridot can't even bask in their victory for a second.

"LAMBERT!" she screams, and then she's running over the ice, slipping and stumbling and falling over herself until she skids to his side.

"What happened, what's wrong with him?!?" she demands, radiating pure panic. Where a moment ago she was flying high, now there's only helplessness.

Fast. Too fast for this bulky form, as powerful as it was. Fuck this joykilling skeleton, fuck him into next week. He could light this whole place up if he wanted to, and reduce all to blackened skeletons.

But that would include their casters and catalysts, stranding them all here in this stupid world.

He allows his leg to be sliced off without so much as flinching, though he does somewhat lose his balance, and he turns to glare at the one yanking on his tail.

The mouths on his secondary head close and reopen as eyes once more, albeit angrily narrowed. When he speaks this time, it's just in one voice from the dragon's head.

"Fine. But the second she tries anything funny, she's lunch."

He extends his severed limb and more of the white goop from earlier explodes from the wounded end, forming into a new leg that he uses to scuttle off to one side, where he returns to his humanoid form.

He sits down in the snow and folds his arms, looking all the world like a toddler who's just had their toy taken away.

As Peridot settles at Lambert and Childermass's side, so does Steven. He looks shocked, first and foremost - more shocked by this violence than his changeling self would have any precedent to be. Yet, somehow those aren't the eyes he's seeing through right now. Somehow, this all feels unbearably wrong. The hope still within him can't allow for it.

"It's okay," he assures Peridot, and it feels natural, even though they never knew each other well in this world. "I... I can help."

His voice is small as he speaks, and he lifts Lambert's head, wincing at the blood poring from his nose and mouth. Oh, no. He's really hurt himself. This is really bad. He can tell that, now. He knows he can do something, but he doesn't know what - it isn't clicking together... how... how does he...

He closes his eyes, a couple tears breaking free. He leans in and kisses Lambert on the forehead, and the two of them become encircled by an aura of pink sparkles. Its not as powerful as it would be back home, but it will bring him back to a place of safety - returning life to him, even if it can't heal his wounds perfectly.

Steven slowly pulls back, blinded by his own light, and unsure of what to expect.

Pru and Damien arrive just in time to see the angel fight resolve, and to see Steven and Lambert be bathed in pink sparkles. So... nothing too unusual, then, even if that doesn't look like angel or faerie magic. Pru is content as long as things are going according to plan. Which, they are. Mostly.

Pru sets Damien down and refolds her wings, looking around to access the situation. A lot of angels had come with them, and not all of them were still here, whether they were wounded, fled, or lost all together.

"Okay, good work getting here," she calls out to everyone, "but we still gotta move. Get Lambert and Childermass out of the circle, and we have to clean up this blood - fast. We can't let Childermass get tangled up in this again. And hey," she gestures to Sans and Yuugo, "If you want to keep these girls alive, be my guest. But make sure they stay out of this from now on!"

The snow has softened up a bit with the Count's absence, and the lines of blood can be cleared away with some effort. Pru claps her hands, and then starts casting a purifying spell on the general area. "Come on, people!"

Lambert's sacrifice and everything actually is pretty touching, but the Hand of God doesn't have time to think about it right now.

Yuya pulls his hands back to give Steven room when he says he can help. He'd like to stay and watch, make sure that they recover... but there isn't time. Whether the Winter Court retaliates or someone else tries to intervene, they have to succeed first.

"We'll definitely get home. Everyone will," he says, as much to himself as Steven and Peridot. "This won't be for nothing, I promise."

Yuya's determined not to let anyone down. He moves to his feet, looking at the blood that got on his hands and then the blood around the ritual circle--and he cringes. But he's going to have to tolerate it, and he knows that worse than just looking at blood is in store for him... but if this is their one chance to get home, he has to do it.

He glances down to the softening snow left where the Count disappeared, and starts pushing some of it away. Maybe the pendant was here, and if it wasn't he'd look for it while helping clear the blood snow.

Rita hurries to the ritual site as quickly as she can, but once she's there, there's little that she can do. She can't heal the injured; she can only look at Lambert and Childermass and wince in sympathy. Fortunately, Steven seems to have that somewhat covered, and for now, Rita lingers nearby, watching for any enemies that might make a move for either Steven or Childermass.

She sees Yuya and approaches him, facing him with a firm look. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out now." Some people here might disagree with that, but in Rita's mind, this is Yuya's choice, and not any of theirs. After all, they just saw how it was for Childermass...

Lambert, unmoved by his sister's shriek of dismay or the sudden rose-tinted lightshow surrounding him as Steven heals him, remains firmly unconscious. This is probably a good thing, since he's still injured enough that being awake would be an incredibly unpleasant experience -- and a strangely familiar one. There's a little more color to his face, but at least his breathing is less labored (a pained wheeze instead of faintly bubbling with liquid) and his pulse is stable.

He still looks pretty gross with the slowly-drying blood that's dripped from his nose and ears and mouth, but at least he's no longer dying. Thanks, Steven!

Sans exhales through his teeth, slowly lowering his scythe as Zangetsu backs off. He had been ready to fight it out, but an angel like that was honestly not somebody he'd relish fucking with - that was an angel built to smite, and Sans was an angel meant to guide.

Or, well... he was an angel. Is an angel? Part of him is an angel, still, not matter what he's remembering now. He just wishes he could remember where this Zangetsu asshole even came from, because he doesn't remember hiring him. He turns to the crow sisters.

"You heard 'em, kiddos," he says, seriously. "You stick with us and I'll have your back. But, you gotta stay out of this fight if you want to survive it."

Sans pulls back for now, keeping an eye on the castle entrance, for now. Neither Lambert nor Childermass are immediately dying, nor is anyone else. That's as much as he can hope for.

Yuya stops and looks straight at Rita as she looks at him. He's clearly a little disturbed, but...

"I'm sure," He smiles, and it's genuine despite the horror they're surrounded by. "I told you, didn't I? I want to go home too. I know you don't really trust the angels, but can you at least trust me?"

If not trust him to succeed, or trust his judgement... at least trust him to be doing what he wants, not what he's being forced into.

The chaos is settling-and likewise, as Carly regains the memories of those she fights for, those she would die for, her fires calm. She com's forward in through the ritual site, where everyone gathers-and, with a shout-

"...if it's you, and Yuugo, Yuuya...then you definitely have this! Like you said...we're definitely going home..!"

As it is, home is...all she wants, at this point.

~~ok but who are u, demongal~~

Faced with Yuya's smile, Rita knits her brow, still uncertain... but unable to argue. "Idiot," she just grumbles at him. "Do what you want."

Clearly unhappy with the outcome, she sharply turns away, but soon sets about assisting in clearing the lines of blood in the circle. She thrusts out an arm, and a wave of fire spreads out in front of her, melting the blood-covered snow.

'We'll definitely go home. Everyone will.'

Foster feels a flush of rage and nausea--like an ocean surf, rolling over a sandbar. He's kept to the outside of the circle and its milling occupants, trying to keep his nose and the snow and his other senses on everyone else. It's a testament to the array of supernatural powers that the gigantic, bleeding bear-on-fire slowly walking the a ring around them hasn't attracted any attention.

And there's a possibility that even speaking up, he won't be heard.

"....and what if someone doesn't want to 'go home?'"

It's an effort, but he keeps his tone perfectly mild, holding himself back, maintaining a calm facade in spite of it. On some level, he's still hoping he can escape unscathed, without resorting to drastic measures against them. But he and Taako have already talked it over, and he's fully admitted to it: if things come to that, he's willing.

Jack pretty much runs in out of nowhere, holding a 4-pack tray of coffee in his hand. It doesn't look like enough for everyone here, because it was all for him. He comes to a halt few feet from the rest of the group, sliding a little on the ice, his teeth gritted.

"Am I too late?!"

It sure looks like a war zone. He actually looks concerned, but since nobody appears dead, Jack lets out an undignified huff.

"To think you would go on without Jack Atlas!"

Pru shrugs her shoulders at the bear's question, though she's made a note of his presence and the scent of that demonic fire. She straight up ignores Jack, because whatever.

"Then don't, I guess," she says. She is charitably assuming he would be helping regardless, but she's intending on verifying shortly. "Everything I know about the other worlds are from you people."

Carly is the one who catches a wave of nausea in response to Foster's words. She hears Jack, as well...but for now, says nothing, unable to face the feelings it would bring.

Instead, she allows very purple fire to coat her arms, tone lowering to a dangerous chill as she looks toward the bear.

"...if you want to stay, you can discuss that with the Ringmaster," she begins slowly, her fist tightening.

"But we ARE going home..."

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