lostcarnival | ⇨ THE SUMMERLANDS

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⇨ THE SUMMERLANDS

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 138 - Day 152
Where: The Summerlands
What: The Ringmaster brings the carnival to the Summerlands immediately after being freed from Portland so that everyone can take a fucking nap. Her included.
Warnings: Individually marked! Most likely discussion of torture and trauma in here.

DAYS OF SUMMER↴

You made it! And things are back to normal... more or less. Upon waking, you will be greeted with a clear blue sky and gentle breeze – the carnival has found itself situated between a pair of mountain peaks, with great fields of flowers extending in the distance. In the other direction, you’ll see mountain-top cities and tall waterfalls accenting vast swaths of forest.

Some of you will already know this place. It’s the Summerlands. You game here once to rest in safety nearly a year ago, and now you’ve come to rest once again.

► WAKING UP: Shortly after the carnival arrives, the Ringmaster will send out a somewhat cryptic radio message - but her immediate location won't be clear. Whatever items you had on your person at the time the Severing was broken will still be on your person, including whatever clothing. All of the animals and pets of the carnival will have returned to the grounds as well, though they are currently free from their designated living spaces. Things in the carnival will appeared to have naturally aged a month, as if the carnival was been sitting here empty and waiting while everyone was in Portland. The lawn needs mowing.

► SUMMER CITY: After the Summer Fae become aware of everyone's presence, they will welcome you into their city. There are stairs that lead up the sides of the mountains, but thankfully there are also magical means of getting up there as well. The Summer Fae will be willing to help workers with the injured as needed, offering herbal remedies and healing magic to those that want it. You'll also be invited to join them for dinner, but they will not be particularly offended if they are turned down, for now.

► SUMMER PEOPLE: The fae here will mostly enjoy the company of any carnival members that offer it - it doesn't seem that much happens here besides day after day of peaceful meditation and relaxation. It is not uncommon to see Summer Fae spent days doing exactly the same thing, whether that be enjoying the weather, listening to music, or dancing - the day and night periods may be similar to earth, but when you don't need rest it can all blur together just the same. Some of the fae work on feats of agriculture or craftsmanship, and while there is no particularly need to work in this place, they take pride in the fact that they do.

► NEW ARRIVALS: Though the Ringmaster will not be offering much guidance for the first week or so, eventually the carnival will begin running for a few small performance sessions, off and on, as a thank you to their fae hosts. The carnival will also be open to receiving new arrivals during that period, and so there will likely be some newbies to train and get orientated as well.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lambert doesn't quite need as much persuading as he makes it seem, most of his reluctance stemming from the fact that faeries are going to be involved than actually disliking the concept. Showers are great and all, but nothing really compares to a proper bath and sauna, and despite himself he's allowed himself to become cautiously optimistic about it.

Having stepped inside, though, he's wondering if he shouldn't have listened to Strange after all. Like the Celebration -- where he had, in fact, stepped into one of these, though he'd avoided most of the more scent-associated services and stuck to the sauna -- the air in here is laden with a dizzying mix of scents, if faintly. Trying to consciously block it off sort of defeats the purpose of relaxing here, so he just settles for wrinkling his nose.

"No clue," he says, prodding at the menu of services offered. Just like in the Celebration, he doesn't know what half these things are, and he can feel the music steadily boring into his skull.

"You're paying for this, right?" Hey, he's the one who dragged him out here.

"I've already paid," Strange remarked, as he looks over the manicure options. What the hell is shellac and how is it different from dip dying, how could there be so many different ways to do something to your nails? He just wants them trimmed! "They've got a garden space in the back where they grow some of the plants used in...all this. I helped clear the area for an expansion. In return, the fae in charge told me a friend and I could have a few treatments on the house."

After all, Strange's magic is big, showy, and perfect for clearing out rocks, weeds, and ditches in an unused area.

A bright, perky blonde fae approaches the two. Her nametag's written in some sort of fae alphabet but you can somehow tell she's got too many y's in her name. She chirpily informs them that all full-body routines start with the detoxification sauna in order to cleanse your body and purify those chakras before the healing process can truly begin. Have the two gentleman decided on which treatments they would like today?

Strange has absolutely no idea what most of those words mean as he just kind of desperately looks over to Lambert for help.

It says something about their relationship (or Strange's lack of them) that Lambert is the first person he thinks of to drag to something like this, but whatever. If it's free, he'll give almost anything a try (an attitude they'll probably come to regret shortly, but hey, whatever).

The only word Lambert understood in that was 'sauna.' However, confronted with the sudden decision to make a choice, he frowns, and stabs at the service menu at random.

"We'll take two of the signature package," he says. Does he have any idea what the signature package includes? Hell no! But if it's being advertised as that, they might as well go for it. "Could you take it easy on the oils, though?"

The faerie demurs, saying of course they're more than happy to accommodate their guests' preferences, then leads them over to the changing rooms, telling them they're welcome to step through to the sauna when they're ready. Storage boxes are provided for their things, with keys to stap onto their wrists, and though Lambert looks at it quizzically, it's not like he's wearing anything he's particularly worried about losing.

Anyway, he sure is stripping down now, don't mind him.

Like half the carnival consists of teenagers, Lambert, gotta take those adult friendships and hold onto them tight. Strange just goes with the flow, nodding as the fae mentions the storage boxes, going through the door to the sauna and wait a moment, changing room?!

He's about to ask what exactly the faerie means by changing room but then the door is closed and oh God, Lambert's already taking off his clothes. Strange just looks panicked for a moment before he slowly starts unbuttoning his coat.

"Out of curiosity, do you have any idea just how much we're supposed to take off?"

Edited 2017-08-06 19:21 (UTC)

It's debatable whether Lambert or Strange even counts as an adult outside of technicality, but that's neither here nor there, is it?

Lambert's already tugged his shirt over his head, exposing the golden scales that spread from the nape of his neck and down along his spine. A new addition are the runelike marks that sweep down in two lines on either side of his back, the biolumiscent spots he previously sported there having mysteriously faded. When Strange pipes up and Lambert turns to squint at him, he'll see where the fae marks begin, fanning out along his collarbones from a mark that looks like a cross in a circle just below the hollow of his throat.

"All of it, Strange. Don't they have saunas in England?" He's gonna move right on to starting to unlace his pants, continuing, "You sit in a small room and you sweat your ass off until you're dizzy. Not exactly something you want to be wearing clothes for."

As soon as Lambert starts taking off his pants, Strange just turns straight around out of some still lingering sense of modesty. By now he's taken his coat off and is working on his neckerchief. Even if he wasn't dawdling (which is 100% is), he's got many more layers than Lambert, so this is going to take longer by default.

Though urgh, sweating? That sounds miserable. Why would someone want to make themselves purposefully dizzy, he thought this damn thing was for relaxation!

"If they do have saunas, I haven't been to one." But Lambert apparently has and the fae here apparently have and Strange feels all the more out of place the more he learns about this. Why couldn't the carnival ever stop at a world where he knows what's going on? Let's have everybody puzzle themselves over how to play billiard or how best to take a holiday at Blackpool, not another round of 'Jonathan Strange doesn't know anything and is out of the loop.'

"Is it individual rooms, at least?"

"Not in my experience," Lambert says cheerfully, the shuffle of cloth and the clunk of a locker shutting indicating that he's probably already gotten naked in record time. "Takes a lot of work to get a room that warmed up, kind of a waste to let only one person use it at a time."

More cloth rustling, and then -- "Here, catch!" -- Lambert flicks a folded towel at Strange's head. The witcher's already wrapped one around his waist, arranging it so the ends are at the back and the gap in the cloth can accommodate his tail.

By now, Strange is working on unbuttoning his shirt, back still to Lambert, when that towel hits him straight in the head. Instinctively, Strange turns around, realizes oh god he probably shouldn't have turned around, then relaxes as he sees that Lambert's in a towel. Okay. He can deal with towels, towels are better than a room full of hot, sweaty naked strangers, this is Strange just trying to convince himself that you've got to do new things even if they're a bit uncomfortable and you might end up looking at some random faerie's junk (do the fae even have genitalia to begin with, oh god he did not want to go down this train of thought.)

"You go ahead," Strange remarks, as he finishes taking the shirt off and starts on his shoes. Thankfully, the various cuts and bruises that he obtained via Nightshade have either disappeared entirely or settled into faint scars. The more noticeable thing on Strange's chest is a mirrored coating, much like the one covering his wrist scratches, but this one is in a ragged, circular shape on his right shoulder. "I'll be there shortly."

"You'd better. Don't run away on me now." Lambert smirks, though it's quick to fade when he gets a proper glance at him, sees the mirrored mark on his shoulder. That doesn't look like the sort of wound any weapon Lambert's seen would leave, but based on what Strange has told him before, he can make an educated guess on the cause.

He doesn't bring it up, at least not yet. Lambert's body is littered with its own brutal scars, the freshest of which are the lines scored on his left forearm, where he'd caught the crow changeling's claws right before he'd killed her, so he's no stranger to violence. It's just odd, seeing it on someone like Strange, who seems to avoid confrontation as much as he can.

But hey, he'll go right ahead and traipse into the sauna area. Wooden benches line the walls, and there aren't any other faeries in here right now. The center of the room is where the heat is emitting from, and it's also where what Lambert is looking for has been set up: a bucket of water with a dipper, and hot stones. He grins, tail curling behind him.

Anyway, this means when Strange finally comes in, it's going to be facefirst into a wall of humid air, the steam curling off the rocks and filling the room while Lambert lounges on a bench.

It's a minute or two later when Strange has finally taken off his billion layers of clothes and set them in the storage locker. He's wrapped that towel tightly around his waist as well. As he enters the sauna, that blast of hot, humid air is enough to make him want to turn around and leave. New experiences, trying new things, you're in faerie, these things are to be expected, Strange just gives himself a mental pep talk as he looks over the set-up.

Besides, Lambert likes this too for...some reason. Could it be that saunas are actually a big deal and he's simply out of the loop? It would make sense.

"And this is supposed to be relaxing?" Strange complains, as he sits down on a bench perpendicular to Lambert's. Because it doesn't exactly feel that relaxing to him. Still, he'll give this a try, even though he's a bit worried that he's not going to do anything but sweat.

Lambert, who's let his eyes drift shut, cracks one open so he can eyeball and confirm that Strange has actually shed a respectable amount of clothing and smirk. That humid air isn't going to help Strange's hair get any more under control, as they'll probably shortly find out...

"It helps if you you give it a chance to do that first," he says, not at all helpfully. In all his glistening (and glittering, thanks to his scales) sweaty glory, he's lying on his side sprawled like an insouciant cat, head propped on one hand.

"Get comfortable. It'll only work if you let it."

For all of Strange's reluctance at the sauna, he did live in Venice for a few months. He's used to some degree of humidity, though not humidity that's ever this hot. That being said, his already messy hair is going to be even messier by the time they've left and one of those fae is probably going to try and sell him on some volume control shampoo.

He lets himself slouch slightly as he looks over at Lambert. In between Lambert's scales and Strange's scales and mirrored coatings, they're going to be two glittery, sweaty men. Still, he's trying his hardest to relax. This is a spa, he's supposed to relax, even if he kind of wishes he was wearing his trousers.

"How come you've heard of a sauna but I haven't? Usually it's both of us not knowing what's going on." There's no hint of an accusatory tone in his voice: it's an honest question. Strange is just legitimately curious as to why Mr. Fake Medieval Poland knows something that he doesn't.

It's just too bad there aren't fae around to appreciate their sweaty glittering glory, but that's probably for the best. At the question, Lambert lazily lets his tail thwap against the bench.

"We've got bath houses back home. Boil yourself alive for half an hour, then jump into freezing cold water after. It's supposed to be good for your health." Not that witchers needed any more of that. Hah.

"They had something like this at the Celebration, too," he continues, with a touch of fondness. No matter how their stay at that place went, that doesn't mean the good parts weren't still good, and he snickers at the memory. "Actually talked Childermass into trying it with me, if you can believe it."

That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Why would someone dunk themselves in cold water, you'd get a chill! Even Strange knew that much! This must be one of those odd different worlds sort of things.

Thankfully, Lambert shifts the conversation to the Celebration...and Strange can't help but smile a wry little smile at that. Childermass? In a spa? He wouldn't believe it had he not seen just what a bizarre state the man was in for most of the Celebration.

"It seems to me you're missing Childermass's brief attempt at being fun," Strange teases, because he hasn't gotten all the mileage he can out of secret boyfriends. "Just ask him to do this or something else with you. I've a feeling he'll be more likely to if I'm not around." Someone is entirely blind to the sheer awkwardness that Lambert and Childermass are both feeling right now and that someone is Jonathan Strange.

It's bracing, Strange. If you tried it, maybe you'd be in better shape for mercenary work ... though when Strange teases him about the other magician, Lambert's tail thumps against the wood again, and he opens his eyes just so he can narrow them at the magician.

"I'm not missing anything," Is what he settles on saying, eventually. "It was funny, that's all. Besides, right now I feel like he'd be less likely to do something if I asked."

As Lambert narrows his eyes at him, Strange just tries to look like an innocent party who has no idea what Lambert's glaring at him about. It doesn't work in the slightest.

"Or he'd attend but spend the whole time flitting about as a bird simply to annoy you. Childermass is a stand-offish person as is, I've a feeling it'll only grow now that he can literally fly away from any unwanted conversation."

Either flying away or retreating to the shadows, that is. And now that they've been in here for more than a few seconds and Strange is adjusting to the temperature, he'll admit that this is rather nice.

"Like he wasn't leaving them through shadows already," Lambert snorts. There's a memory that goes with that, but, the less fuel he gives Strange for teasing the better.

If the point was to relax, bringing Childermass up sure isn't helping him do so, and he shifts his weight on the bench, tail flicking through the air irritably again. Still, he can't help but ask--

"You've known him for a while, haven't you? He always been that way?"

"You've got to keep in mind that within our first two days at the carnival, I've had more private conversations with Childermass than I ever did back in England. He was always Norrell's man, so Norrell colored our interactions."

It's a statement of fact, not any sort of indictment. This was how things worked in the 1810s: one rarely had in-depth private conversations with another man's staff. It seems like Strange is the person who's going to end up more relaxed as he just closes his eyes and continues to talk.

"I've a feeling that if he could have slipped away from some conversations, he certainly would have. Mister Norrell had some...tedious people he called friends." Tedious is putting it nicely. Strange has plenty of sharp words about Lascelles and even more sharp words about Drawlight but they're not currently gossiping about either of those two men, are they.

"But he's always been a man of his own agenda. And whatever that agenda is, he's loyal to it until the end." Strange can't hide the tone of faint admiration in his voice as he talks. After all, that's an admirable quality. Refusing to take a side in the conflict between Norrell and Strange, getting shot for Norrell, trying his hardest to keep Strange alive...Strange might not know precisely what Childermass hopes to get out of his actions, but he certainly knows that he's dead-set on seeing them through, no matter what the annoyance.

Lambert's got some idea of what that agenda is, though not a complete picture. As always, it comes down to the Raven King -- the apparent obsession of all English magicians, the heart of all English magic. Childermass had told him once he wasn't a man of religious faith, but he believed in something nevertheless. It's strange to think about, when the man's so practical about everything else. He's quiet, listening to Strange talk, but the tone of his voice doesn't escape him, and it's a few beats before he responds.

"You almost sound like you look up to him." And then his tone shifts to mocking, because it really wouldn't be Lambert without it. "Doesn't really seem the servant type, does he?"

At Lambert's words, Strange simply shrugs. He's not sure if it counts as looking up to him or not, but he certainly admires the man's determination to keep at what he wants, damn the consequences...especially since Strange is also a person who's determined to keep at what he wants, damn the consequences.

Still, he grins as Lambert points out the obvious: Childermass really isn't very servantish. "I think that Childermass has always done what he wants. It's simply that for some reason, part of what he wanted to accomplish somehow involved him being in Norrell's service." Strange learned that much during their last conversation back home, when Childermass told him of Norrell's attempt to destroy his book.

"And now it involves him signing up for a faerie carnival," Lambert concludes. That's the path that's led them all here -- though he may not know the specifics of what Childermass asked the Ringmaster for, or talked about how he ended, he also doesn't seem like the kind of man who'd be tricked by losing at a game of chance of skill into signing away a year and a day of his life.

However, that seems to be enough gossipping about their mutual acquaintance for now. Lambert sits up, dips the wooden ladle into the water bucket, and splashes more water onto the heated rocks. That sends up a hiss and a fresh wave of humid heat billowing up -- not like they needed any more, since they're both sweating in earnest. Lambert stretches his arms overhead, sweat sliding down his skin with the motion, and rests back against the wood again.

"Maybe we should get one of these in the Carnival. Shouldn't be that hard to build..."

As the heat billows up, Strange can't help but make a small happy noise of content. Why was he so hesitant about the whole sauna thing? This is amazing and he already feels wonderful. So, like usual, he'll happily enable Lambert's dumb idea. "If you find someone to make the actual building, I can find the rocks and provide the water. That should be easy enough with my magic."

The stupid thread is going to get even stupider because at this moment? Strange is just so relaxed and so calm that he forgets to keep himself solid--or, more specifically, he discovers that he might need to start putting in effort to keep himself solid. Mixed in with the steam from the water is a dark purple smoke, the color of nightshade berries. And oddly enough, it's coming from Strange's feet...which themselves are now also made up of dark purple smoke.

Of course, Strange's eyes are still closed so he's got no idea his feet straight up vanished in the first place.

"I can do some carpentry, if I've got the tools." Or he could ask someone in Engineering, but he highly doubts Peridot, Scout, or Rita would be enthused about building a wooden man-cave for Lambert and Strange to sweat in.

With his eyes closed, Lambert doesn't immediately notice the purple color beginning to tinge the air, nor where it's coming from. He does, however, notice it when he reaches to pour more water on the rocks, and tell Strange they should probably start thinking about getting out soon.

The wooden ladle drops to the floor with a clatter as Lambert bolts upright.

"What the fuck?!"

Lambert's explanation is enough for Strange to lazily open one eye...and then frantically open both because he might not know much about saunas but even he knows that's not supposed to happen.

"What the hell--" he starts to say as he gets to his feet, only for Strange to find that surprise, he currently doesn't have feet. The fact that nothing's touching solid ground is enough of a shock for him that he straight up loses his balance and falls over, hitting the ground with a thud and bruising the shit out of his elbow in the process.

It's only when Strange tries to get to his feet that he realizes surprise, they aren't there. "Well," he simply says, trying not to show just how freaked out he is. "That's new."

It's alarming, to say the least. Why is Strange turning into smoke in the sauna? Why is he purple? Lambert opens his mouth to yell out just that, but it turns out Strange's lack of coordination is even faster than Lambert can run his mouth, and he winces as the magician goes down with a thud.

"No shit, unless you have something you wanna tell me." Lambert says, stepping over to Strange in order to cautiously crouch down beside his legs. Yep, that sure does look like smoke. He takes a cautious sniff of the air, just in case, and then...

Reaches out and waves a hand right through the smoke where Strange's feet should be, brow furrowed. "You know, you're usually an easy person to see through, but this is a little too literal, don't you think?"

you know i love me some stupid

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it really helps if i hit send

that IS probably useful

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