so about those faeries

[whattaprick]

Who: Lambert, Strange, and (some form of a) Childermass
When: Early into their arrival in the Summerlands, after Lambert is actually fucking awake.
Where: The Carnival, Supervisor's Grove
What: Stuffy magicians and a witcher become aware of plot, then may or may not get blisteringly drunk
Warnings: Drinking, swearing, not discussing traumatic experiences but certainly thinking about them very loudly!

The directions that Lambert provides to the trailer in the Supervisor's Grove are clear and concise, but even if Strange made a complete hash of them it's still not hard to pick out the trailer with the open door and windows to let the breeze in.

Once he gets inside, he'll find an open space that's been converted into a laboratory of sorts. On one side of the room, several bulky somethings have had canvas sheets thrown over them, presumably to keep the dust from accumulating -- and from a month away, quite a bit has -- but the other side has some kind of chemistry setup laid out, beakers and burners and various kinds of equipment for distillation and refining components Lambert needs. Another workbench has been set up as some kind of assembly station, though it's hard to tell at a glance what for. More recognizably, one corner is entirely devoted to large copper vessels that are unmistakably some sort of alcohol still.

There are multiple vials with eerily shifting liquids organized by color along one wall, but what Lambert is looking at and holding up to the light now is a larger bottle. When he hears Strange come in, the witcher turns, golden tail lazily swinging to the side.

As with all the other Carnival workers, his changes have come back full force, scales and horns and all. Unfortunately, Lambert also looks even shittier than the last time Strange saw him, although he might not have gotten a good look: dark, blood-red veins creep across his face, curling under the surface of his skin like snakes, and he's looking a little grey, dark circles under his eyes. However, since his body's worked through most of today's dose of Swallow, it's not as bad as it looks. Really! But it looks pretty bad, so that's not saying much.

"Hey."

Comments

[kingsroads]

Fortunately for Lambert, between the music and Strange yammering up a storm, it's providing perfect cover to investigate things that might be at windows. Because that creepy music just keeps going and Strange just continues to look at the memories of Arabella like they're the greatest things in the world.

"I don't know why you're acting so annoyed about it. I'll put the gem up in a moment, I just wanted you to see it first. Because this is Arabella, she's my wife, and I thought that--oh! Lambert, look, it's our wedding!"

Being in love makes you a total idiot.

[atouts]

Why yes, there is something out there. It's just holding very still and irritatingly difficult to make out for sure, even with those fancy witcher eyes.

[whattaprick]

Fortunately for whatever's there, Strange's voice is going to make Lambert distracted enough to glance back over his shoulder despite himself. All right, it's still sentimental enough to make him want to take his own eye out with a spoon, but literally nobody would ever invite Lambert to their wedding, so it's weird and interesting to see a different -- wow, that sure is some kissing happening there, huh.

"Is it going to get to the wedding night too?"

[kingsroads]

...it has literally just occurred to Strange that if the gem shows memories of Arabella, then it might accidentally show his more intimate memories of Arabella. And yoink, that gem's going right back in his pocket before we get an accidental memory gem sex tape broadcast. The laboratory settles down into more of the quiet it was before music box music started to play while Strange tries to regain a bit of composure.

"If it does, those memories are going to stay private," said in a very pointed tone of voice. "Let's talk about something else--with more drinks, of course. I'm still sober which means that disgusting alcohol of yours isn't doing it's job."

[whattaprick]

"Show's over already?" Lambert feigns disappointment as the evening's entertainment disappears, but really, he's as glad that's over with as Strange probably is right now. As expected, the alcohol's kicking in more sharply than it would if he were in full health, but that's not necessarily a bad thing in this case...

"It's been hanging out in the carnival for a month. Quality's not guaranteed, only alcohol content. But you're welcome to help yourself." Rather than immediately heading over to Strange, he'll head to a bench and rummage around beneath it to produce another bottle, which he'll bring over and thump down next to the opened one. The food basket goes back on the table as well, Lambert fashioning himself a rough sandwich which is really just a huge wedge of cheese jammed into a hunk of bread.

[kingsroads]

Hanging out for a month...Strange can't help but shake his head slightly at that as he opens the bottle. Everything certainly looks like it was left out to pasture for a month, but after shaking a lifetime's worth of fake memories from his head, it feels like it must have been much longer.

"It still seems hard to believe were in Portland for an entire month." Carefully, Strange pours himself another beaker full of alcohol. As the smell hits his nostrils, he can't help but continue musing. "You know, the madness was only so that I could communicate with faeries in the first place. That idiot was poisoning himself for no good reason."

Unsurprisingly, England Strange has a very low opinion of Portland Strange.

[whattaprick]

"Is there ever a good reason to poison yourself?" Asks the witcher who's been essentially poisoning himself over the course of the past few days, and is technically continuing to do so as he knocks back more booze. If they're going to be talking about Portland, he's going to need it. Thinking about his past life is enough reason for anyone to reach for the bottle.

"Could have turned out worse. At least you didn't end up making any human sacrifices ... or at least, I hope not."

Lambert doesn't know how the spell chose who ended up as what, but it seemed to have a real wicked sense of humor at times.

[kingsroads]

At Lambert's question, Strange shakes his head, taking a small sip of the alcohol before he continues.

"Mm, thankfully not. I tried to kill at least two teenagers, though." If you joke about it, this means you've accepted it! That's how these things work, right? That is not how they work entirely, but Strange just tears himself off another hunk of bread as he tries to convince himself that this is entirely how it works, why would people think otherwise, he's coping!

"I also ate a few spiders. But that was when I was a cat, so I don't think that counts." God, what a uniquely bizarre and uniquely sad statement that is. At least now he knows that the madwoman in Venice must have been truly mad if that was her desire.

[whattaprick]

Lambert subscribes entirely to the school of 'make a joke about it and pretend you're over it,' so he isn't about to question Strange on that.

"Lucky thing Portland you turned out to be a pretty incompetent killer, huh?" He says, picking up another apple. This time, he's cutting it roughly into slices, with the intent of making himself some apple-cheese sandwiches to munch on. Really, he should get something more substantial, but the idea of confronting anyone else in the cookhouse is exhausting.

"I think I ate a couple of birds when I was a cat. But ... that happened months before we showed up, so that probably never really happened." Most of the things that didn't actually happen in the month they were there are fading in his mind like washed out paintings, growing harder and harder to remember. "Mostly I can't believe I ever thought I had sisters."

[kingsroads]

"I can't believe you thought Peridot was your sister." There's going to be a little bit of shit-talking poor Peridot but hey, she's not here, that's the best opportunity to shit-talk. Though, this does bring up another point that Strange really hadn't thought about until now.

Though, this is after he straight up steals one of Lambert's apple slices. Hey, hey's hungry and they're available for eating.

"You thought Peridot was your sister and Foster thought Amethyst was his sister. Do you think any two carnival members thought they were married?" And then, Strange continues the logical train of thought and gives Lambert a smirk that he knows is most likely going to get him shoved slightly or yelled at. "I know there were at least two carnival members who thought they were secret boyfriends."

Peridot might be obnoxious but she at least pointed out the secret boyfriend aspect that Strange would have completely overlooked. He can't entirely dislike her.

[whattaprick]

"She was a pest," Lambert agrees. Despite himself, a touch of fondness creeps into his voice. He may have mixed feelings on the situation (and really, he completely missed Peridot and Strange's magic vs technology tiff) but right now, he can respect how annoyingly present she was.

Unlike Portland Lambert, the real Lambert isn't so easy to fluster, though he has other ways to express his displeasure with the turn the conversation's taken. He picks up another apple and slices into it slightly harder than he needs to, scowling at Strange's expression and most definitely kicks him under the table aiming for his shin.

"We weren't anything, secret or otherwise," he tells him, not particularly convincingly. "We spent half the time yelling at each other."

[kingsroads]

That is not convincing in the slightest. Strange's expression is still pure 'sure Lambert' as he dodges a kick from the other man. What are friends for if not giving each other grief, and that's what Strange is going to continue to do.

"Of course, you could still spend the other half of the time doing different activities." The amount of innuendo that Strange lays on the word 'activities' makes it entirely clear what he thinks those activities are. After all, there were ways to describe that sort of relationship: tempestuous came to mind.

[whattaprick]

"If only," Lambert mutters darkly into his drink, scowling all the harder. Strange should anticipate a lot of shin-kicking in his future. As easy as it would be to point out that Strange spent most of the time convinced he was a bitter divorcee, Lambert also isn't eager to initiate a shift in mood that would merit whipping out that damn wife gem again, so enduring the bullshit it is.

"Seriously, nothing happened. Which is pretty fucking sad, when you think about it, because what kind of idiot gets goddamn possessed by the Earth Spirit over blue balls?" Well, blue balls and feelings, but the point remains that Portland Lambert was a hot mess who was in over his head. It's a miracle he wasn't killed in the first week.

[kingsroads]

"Well it is Childermass. I think that even in a different reality, the man would rather slit his own wrists than show a hint of emotion." You talk grief about someone who's not there, you attempt to comfort the person who is there. Because honestly, it is a bit sad that Portland Lambert got so emotional and made so many reckless decisions based on what might just be a silly crush. Of course, he's got a feeling Lambert's underplaying this: Peridot thought they were secret boyfriends for a reason, after all. Besides, there's something else interesting to draw his attention for now (teasing shall happen again later).

"So the Earth Spirit actually existed? He was certain it was..." Strange pauses for a moment. Oh, what was the phrase the Portland him used to describe it, it's right on the tip of his tongue. "...hippie crap."

This is said despite the fact that Strange has no idea what hippie crap even consists of to begin with. "I don't think he knew what he was talking about, though."

[whattaprick]

Strange has got that much right, at least. However, with the opportunity to divert the conversation, Lambert is more than happy to take it. As far as anyone's concerned, it was a silly crush. Lambert in Portland had never really known that Winter Court changeling at all.

"It was real," Lambert confirms. And he's going to need another drink for this. A bigger one, and to press his hands on the table. He isn't shaking at the memory, not like Strange was at his own, but he needs the sensation of being grounded.

"If that's how it felt like when it was dying..." He trails off, shaking his head. "You could see why the mages thought of using it for their spell."

[kingsroads]

Strange nods, taking a little sip. Truth be told, he has no idea just what the Earth spirit felt like in the first place. But something had possessed Peridot during their final confrontation. He didn't know what, but he could feel the power coming off of her, power so great that it scared Nightshade. Perhaps that was it?

"With my magic, if I want to do anything large like move a forest or change a river's direction, I need to speak to the trees and the water myself. I imagine that the Earth Spirit would be something like that. The Circle mages speak to the essence of the Earth itself to collect it's agreement and draw upon it's power for their spell." There's a pause, before he continues. "I haven't really heard of the essence talking back though. But then again, I imagine that the essence of an entire world is more powerful than that of the stones, the rivers, or the trees."

It's obvious he's about to go off on a theoretical tangent, but Strange stops himself as he takes a small drink. He's got a feeling that it'll be wasted on Lambert anyway. Though, he does have one more question. "How long did you stay possessed?"

[whattaprick]

Discussing magical theory that isn't related to how quickly things can be made to die with magic is generally a non-starter with Lambert, it's true, but at least he can mostly hide how his expression is glazing over by taking another drink.

"I don't remember," he admits. "Long enough to interrupt the ritual, but you'd have to ask someone else who was there."

Long enough to nearly kill himself with so much power, too -- more than he'd ever know what to do with. Lambert has some jumbled memories of what people were yelling at each other towards the end of that confrontation, enough to guess the spirit had probably moved on to possessing Peridot, but he hasn't had a chance to confirm that much, either, and the Engineer has been notably scarce around the Carnival.

"Before you get any ideas about getting possessed," he adds, dryly, "Don't. Wasn't as bad as becoming a witcher, but it was close."

[kingsroads]

Strange can't help but laugh a little as he stands up, stretching slightly. It's mostly just to stand up than him going anywhere--he's spent most of the conversation sitting down, after all.

"I'm afraid I've fulfilled my quota of terrible decisions for at least a month. Possession shall have to wait."

Again, if you joke about something, you don't have to acknowledge it happened in the first place. But honestly, even if it's a life or death situation, Strange will have some reservations about being possessed. His mind is his own--having to watch helplessly while Nightshade made him do all those terrible things has certainly put him off the idea.

[whattaprick]

Lambert snorts. "It had better. With our luck, we'll be lucky if things stay quiet for two weeks."

In the meantime, while Strange does that? The witcher's gonna reach into a back pocket, fishing out a crumpled package, and tap a cigarette out with easy, practiced motions. Once it's between his lips, a small gesture with a hand is enough to light it, and he lets the pack drop on the table. With no ashtray to hand, the closest thing is an empty petri dish, so that's what he's going to use.

[kingsroads]

Strange hasn't actually explored this trailer so, as Lambert lights up, he walks around, peering at various things underneath sheets and just generally being nosy. He's not touching the distillery system, but he is looking it over at he talks.

"If the Ringmaster let you convert part of this into a distillery, I should ask for a bigger trailer for myself! Granted, most of my magic is best performed outside, but--"

Strange is walking past that open window where Childermass is perched outside when he stops. Something's odd about this.

"--but there's no harm in asking," he finishes, though he's got a strange expression on his face as he looks out of the window for a bit. Something feels familiar. He couldn't sense it when he was at the table but now, here, that he's closer to the window, there's something different. He stops pacing and being nosy and is instead just looking outside of the window, trying to hone in on that familiar feeling and piece out just what it is.

[whattaprick]

What's underneath sheets seems to be odd apparatuses with no immediately obvious purpose and -- curiously -- computers.

"Perks of being a supervisor," Lambert shrugs, puffing away. "This used to be the Warden's, so most of this is his. He'll want it back eventually, but until then, I get to borrow it." Lambert's side sticks to the much more basic equipment.

Though with Strange looking out of the trailer, his curiosity's piqued as well -- considering it had caught his attention earlier, too. "Something wrong?"

[atouts]

Had he moved? Had he made a noise? No, Childermass is sure he's barely made any motion since landing here. He's just enough off to one side that he would only partially be visible if one looked just right, but even so... Strange actually realizing first? That was unexpected and now that both are looking towards the window, what can he do?

Keep holding still, he supposes, though if they see a crow hanging out one of them is bound to know who it is. Worst comes, he can still slip through shadows even in this form.

[kingsroads]

Strange pauses, frowning in thought as he looks out of the window. It's familiar in a way that reminds him of London, but with a cold, dark sheen that he can't place. Possibly Portland? London and Portland and--and then the feeling clicks. It's magic. Oh, he's not entirely certain what sort of magic it is but he can recognize the magician who cast it. Sort of like being unable to identify the specific name of a painting, but being able to piece out who painted it.

"No," Strange remarks, with a wry smile. "Nothing's wrong in the slightest." But he's not going back to the table. Instead, Strange sticks his head out of the window as he calls out,

"I admire your handiwork, Childermass. I can tell it's you but I'm not entirely sure what spell you've cast to begin with." He's not even looking in Childermass's direction, just hollering out the window in the hopes that the other magician would hear.

[whattaprick]

Lambert's tail thumps on the bench beside him as Strange bawls out the window -- seriously, dude, do you want every single supervisor to hear this? Beyond getting a slight furrow in his brow (just how long has Childermass been out there, and how much did he hear?) though, he isn't going to offer much of an opinion on the proceedings, standing up to fetch a clean beaker instead, movements stilted.

"Tell him to quit being a shadowy bastard and have a drink," he calls, finding his seat again. Like Childermass is going to come in now, and yeah he knows the other magician can probably hear that easily enough, but it's just not Lambert if he's not making an ass of himself, is it.

[atouts]

The fact that a bird can field Strange sticking his head out the window and yelling more or less right next to it without so much as ruffling a feather would likely be proof enough that it's Childermass, but the other magician straight up never looked to the side before pushing the window open to shout.

Which means, naturally, the very second Strange moves to turn and pull his head back in, he's going to find a friggin' crow launching straight at his face with the barest of warning, a very low sound, as close to an angry noise as a bird can get. Surprise, asshole. Guess who's still pretty mad at you?