⇨ GREYSOL

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 155 - Day 169
Where: Greysol
What: The carnival resumes its tour, this time heading to Greysol, a city tied deeply into the fabric of the multiverse. Here, everyone has an animal companion from birth that is the second half of their soul - and thanks to the Ringmaster, so do you. (Remember, joysweeper is our guest event runner for this location, and location specific questions should go to them.)
Warnings: Individually marked!

THE CITY OF GREYSOL↴ The carnival arrives in a manicured park in the center of a big city that sprawls out along where the river reaches the ocean. It’s spring, early enough that nights are chilly, warm enough in the days that people and their souls savor the weather, and sometimes shelter together from the rain. Greysol was designed from the bottom up to accommodate the human-dæmon bond. Go out and see! ► THE SHAPE OF YOUR SOUL: The dæmon-forming spell kicks in at about four in the morning. Most characters will wake up with their souls in some small form, curled against them. Even if they were awake, they became dazed and unfocused while their souls were being drawn out of their bodies and have little memory of how it happened. Until that evening every character's dæmon is able to change shapes, and children and some teens will continue to do so. Most will settle on their permanent forms by evening. Characters without dæmons will just look on, and the few who are thousand-pound bears have to handle being really big. ► IT’S GOOD TO SETTLE: Elaine Tavis Aracari, sixteen-year-old daughter of two actors and a moving pictures sensation herself, just ‘settled’ - her dæmon Tavis stopped changing shape - as a stunning blue peacock. Settling is a major coming of age milestone and celebrated as such in different ways all over the world. She and her family are throwing a massive party in the central park and inviting the public to join in! Enjoy easy access to free catering, live music and showings of moving pictures, and displays of mostly trivial magic. There are also form readers from across the country setting up booths, happy to accept a small fee to inspect your dæmon’s settled or most favored forms and tell you what they mean. Is there anything to these analyses? Eh, maybe, but they’re flattering and fun. ► WITCHING HOURS: Characters who are clearly witches for this event will often be assumed to be in town for a lover, and people, witches and not, may want to know who that is. Humans usually regard them with wary respect and interest. Real witches living with their human families or on business quickly suspect that something’s up, but without clear and present danger take a relaxed wait-and-see attitude. Wait for long enough and any possible decision will come around again, they believe. There isn’t time to learn much witch magic, but witches, real and carnival-made, have an inherent power: the ability to fly using branches of “cloudpine”, an attractive soft-needled tree common in the park. Witches usually ride large branches as if they’re steeds but can use even short sprays, and you’ll probably see the few witches in the city coming to the park to do so. Why not try? ► BEAR PUN: Human-panserbjørn relations have historically been troubled, but have warmed in the past century. It’s the 65th anniversary of the breaking of the Siege of Bertin, a much-mythologized time when Spectres flooded Greysol and a company of panserbjørn arrived and directed efforts to get the survivors out of the city. A statue is being erected and many florid accounts of the story are being told. If you’re in a panserbjørn shape for the duration of the visit you will probably get thanked and celebrated by people trying to hide their nervousness of you. Expect someone to ask if your dæmon would be a human - it’s a common supposition. ► KERNER ISLAND: From the harbor you can see a wooded island. Although there are no rocks to speak of it sports a tall lighthouse, and nearly all boat traffic avoids it carefully. On a clear day someone with binoculars or a particularly sharp-eyed soul can see loads of trash, birds and various other animals that don’t seem local, and… children? Adults and settled teenagers will see tall vague shapes moving about too. When asked about it the most important thing adults will tell other adults is don’t go there. They’ll hold their dæmons close and tell you that on that island are things that eat souls. They may also admit with mixed pride and shame that it’s been a source of wealth and innovation for the city. There’s a facility there that can open windows into other worlds, and the children who can reach it can cross through and bring things back. Many of the children are recruited by research and development teams on the lookout for items they can use, but there are also kids out to have adventures or who’ve run away. More on this later.

Comments

childermass, ota

[atouts]

THE SHAPE OF YOUR SOUL (is unacceptable)

Finding, at first, a second dog in his trailer had been a shock. Of course, that dog became a badger, then a wolf, then a little black cat, an owl, and finally—

A crow, of the hooded variety, with patches of grey among the black. His daemon settles as a crow and that only leads to trouble. While everyone else enters Greysol with a new companion at their side, Childermass does not. He leaves his trailer in a cold rage that simply won't abate and the crow follows, cowering away from him as far as she can without causing them both harm. Even Baker avoids the man, the yelling match he had early that first day with his own soul enough to send the Arcanine to go find refuse under another trailer for the time being. This is how it'll go for half their stay.

Childermass wanders the streets, getting the lay of the land and what it has to offer on his own (kind of). The crow follows from above, very obviously his daemon, but never setting down near him when she can help it and certainly never landing on him.

"Stay out here," is what can be heard every time he pauses to look into a store and she does just that. The crow perches just outside the big store window, looking in, silent and huddled down in her own feathers. Even with other workers about, he won't change what he does.

To the general populace of Greysol, he either gets quite a few nasty or surprised looks or, otherwise, some whispers about him possibly being a witch, though he hasn't been glamoured as one at all.

MINE NOW!!!

Of course, the crow isn't all sadness and sighs. When Childermass is busy with something else or somewhere else, she'll use the twenty feet she has to flutter about and poke at anything that catches her interest. That something might even belong to you, so surprise, here's a crow landing on whatever you have.

If it's food, she'll snag a bit and flutter off out of reach. Similarly, if it's something shiny, she'll do the same. Hell, she may even be amusing herself diving for coins in a nearby fountain, then hopping back up onto the rim again to shake water off of feathers. If Childermass isn't paying attention, he can't exactly tell her off for having a spot of fun.

And if caught at it, well, she'll just look up with pale blue eyes and chime, "Yeah? What are you looking at?", in a cheerful (and very Yorkshire-sounding) manner that stands starkly opposite of how her other half would ever sound.

stealy thief bird

[kingsroads]

He's finally gotten the hand of that damn water bubble spell! Granted, it took longer than expected and Strange has discovered that he now has a case of the sniffles due to standing outside in multiple rainstorms, but he worked out the spell in the end and that's what matters. Of course, now he needs a source of water large enough to cover a seal in the first place. So Strange and Siobhan (his huge daemon gray seal) are making their way to the fountain to get that water spell done.

Of course, a thieving crow stealing coins from a fountain. is enough to grab both of their already limited attentions. And both magician and daemon are quick to put together just whose daemon this crow with a northern accent is.

"Oh!" Siobhan remarks, with a little laugh, as she flops towards the fountain, easily pushing herself up so she's more level with the crow. "How wonderful, you're his!" And then, much like Strange himself, the daemon just keeps on talking, continuing before the poor crow can get a word in. "I am Siobhan, and the silly looking human is Jonathan. It's so lovely to finally meet you!" And then she tries to attempt to give the crow a gentle nudge with her head.

"But if you're here, then where precisely is Childermass?" Strange remarks, with a frown, as he casts his eyes towards any shadowy place in the vicinity of the fountain.

[atouts]

By now, she's managed to collect a sizable pile of coins from the fountain, so when a big ol' seal comes flopping up and shoving her nose at her, the startled flutter the crow gives in addition to said seal nose, well. That sends the coins scattering.

"Look at what you did!" She scolds Siobhan rather than being as friendly as she may have initially sounded. "I'll have to start all over now..."

Though that can wait since she isn't going to ignore company. Lord knows she certainly doesn't get any attention from Childermass. Even though she puffs up her feather some, it isn't long lasting. They settle at Strange's question and she shoots a look towards the bookstore the little fountain happens to be taking up space near (a half-fountain, set between two shops). So she isn't far from him, but it is pushing that limit.

"Oh, he's... around. In there. I guess."

More like knows for sure, but it doesn't seem something she's particularly enthusiastic to talk about.

[kingsroads]

Oh, I'm sorry, was the crow collecting those coins, Siobhan straight up didn't notice. As such, at the scolding, she gets a very confused 'why are you fussing at ME?' sort of expression before she puts two and two together. Oh well. Those can be picked up later. There's more important things to talk about anyway.

"You guess?" Strange responds, with a little frown. Because that's...slightly worrying. Granted, Strange and Siobhan are more codependent than a lot of the carnival and their daemons, having settled into something annoyingly close to synergy. So to have this part of you and then try and shove it away makes no sense in Strange's mind.

It also makes no sense for Siobhan, who's frown is more deepened and much more pronounced than Strange's is. "Hmmph! Well, we'll chat with you until the idiot comes back."

They're going to stay and talk whether the crow wants to or not. After all, Childermass might be able to ignore a smaller crow and a fussy magician, but it'll be pretty hard to ignore a hugeass seal getting up in his space.

[atouts]

"He isn't an idiot," she protests, naturally, though again, there's very little enthusiasm in her voice. With that, the crow hops down off the edge of the fountain and picks up a coin, then flutters back up to the edge again. She'll start restacking them as they talk, no big deal in the long run, all fussing aside.

"He just doesn't want me looking over his shoulder, that's all."

[kingsroads]

"Yes he is," both Strange and Siobhan say at the same time. Their synthesis goes all the way to shit-talking Childermass. Strange, however, is going to be a bit more generous to Childermass and cut him a bit of slack.

"He's secretive to begin with. I doubt he fully appreciates the unique circumstances that daemons entail."

Strange doesn't keep secrets, so having a seal occasionally broadcast his feelings isn't a big deal. But for someone used to keeping things to himself, having another part of yourself to casually mention true thoughts must be quite annoying.

i have a double use for these icons now (even though this is so not a hooded crow)

[atouts]

"It's fine... I don't mind," the crow carries on, despite very obviously minding quite a bit. She shoots another look towards the bookstore, but still, no Childermass. She can't really go any further than this without him, so she'll just flutter down to get the next coin, then back up again.

"There's a lot on his mind, you know? Tons of stuff! And I can occupy myself. Look! I'm going to make an entire tower of coins! As long as someone doesn't knock them down again!"

Looking at you, Siobhan.

hey, good enough for government work

[kingsroads]

The crow very obviously does mind and that much is obvious to Strange. Still, he's got nothing better to do, so he can at least try to cheer up the crow until Childermass comes back (and then give him an earful about the poor thing.) And if she wants to make a tower of coins...well, he can help with that.

"I've some spare change in my pocket. That can help make your tower even taller." Reaching into his pants pocket, Strange fiddles around for a bit before pulling out a handful of spare change and setting it down on the edge of the fountain. It's only about fifty cents or so in various denominations, he doesn't mind giving it up to the crow. As he does so, Siobhan just yammers on.

"You know, you never told us your name," Siobhan chimes in, blissfully unaware that she just got the verbal equivalent of a stink-eye from the crow.

[atouts]

That does cheer her up! Some! She puffs out her feathers when Strange sets the spare change down and hops over to them, looking at them closely before moving them or anything.

"Oh, I should put all the same colors together, too..." Although that's mostly said to herself. She has a lot of time on her wings to fill up, unfortunately. Siobhan asking her name, though, that gets her attention again, followed by a long silence.

An awkwardly long silence, even.

"Ah. That. My name." Right. That thing. That thing that everyone usually has. "I don't know. I thought John and me could pick one together, but he doesn't think it's important."

shape of your soul

[anti_nonsense]

Rita's passing by with her own daemon, Krios, slinking beside her in the form of a caracal. She's about to walk past the store in question when her companion stops her, speaking in the voice of a young boy.

"Rita, wait. Isn't that...?" He sits, staring pointedly up at the crow by the window. If these were normal animals, it would probably look a bit like a predator-cat focusing on its prey.

Rita follows his gaze... and, recognizing the daemon, sighs. "Are you two still not getting along?" While Rita was pretty quick to come to a mutual understanding with her daemon (it helps that he innately knew what sort of explanation would appease Rita), her then-roommate's relationship with his own soul seemed to go downhill fast. It's been a few days, and Rita thought he might be over it by now, but apparently not.

[atouts]

The crow gives a startled hop at being addressed. She turns her head, peering over a wing to see who it is, though the recognition is immediate. Yes, she knows them! And it's being in known company that almost immediately lifts her spirits, even in spite of Rita's question.

"Hello!" She caws in a thankfully lighter Yorkshire accent than Childermass speaks with. "It's nice to see you, um... well..." She looks back through the store's window for a second, then lets out a little sigh and turns to face the other two. "No, we're not. Well, more like he's not."

[anti_nonsense]

Rita casts a long stare through the window. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She did hear some portion of his yelling the other day. Looks like Childermass really does lose his cool sometimes... and perhaps takes longer to get it back. "Fighting with your own soul... doesn't get much stupider than that," says the girl who regularly argues with her own. They usually get over it quickly, though.

Krios shifts its form into that of a red-black bird, flying up from the ground and perching on Rita's shoulder, where he can face the crow. "That's awful," he says sympathetically. "What's he so mad about, anyway?" Rita just turns her head away. It's not like she wants to pry... though if Krios is doing it, it's probably because some part of her wants to ask, too.

[atouts]

The crow is at least more open about answering questions that Childermass has ever been, so that's one plus on her side, even if Childermass himself would never really appreciate that. He would prefer to keep the problem between them. The crow? Less so, since it might be someone else who figures out a way to resolve the problem. If he won't pay her much heed himself, well, that's the best she can hope for.

"He hates the form I settled in," she says, straight to the point. That part, at least, she shares with him. No hemming or hawing about now that she's been asked. "But I couldn't help it. It's just how we are now."

[anti_nonsense]

Rita and Krios exchange a glance. They figured a crow was pretty appropriate for Childermass, somehow... not that Rita knows or cares much about symbolism, but it just seemed to fit. But then, maybe part of that is because of what she saw of him in Portland.

"How you are... now?" Rita echoes, seemingly wondering about something. Maybe it's nothing, but from that wording, it kind of sounds like...

Fortunately, Krios steps in to clarify the question in her mind. "Did something change recently?"

[atouts]

The crow looks back over the curve of her folded wings, back at the window and into the store where Childermass is still busy. It's almost like she's making sure he isn't about to turn around and walk back out, though she would know that even without looking.

"Yes," she answers, attention flitting back to Krios and Rita. "All the fae in the Summerlands mistook him for a Winter changeling. There was no convincing them otherwise. So something didn't go back to normal after we left. I think I would have been something else otherwise, anything else besides a crow."

[anti_nonsense]

Rita mulls over that silently, but Krios speaks up. "You can imagine how that feels, right? I mean, you were really upset about being changed by the fae. To be changed in such a fundamental way that it affects the very shape of your soul..."

"I know," Rita interrupts, sounding annoyed. It's irritating, in a way, that Childermass was there to calm her down at the time, but when it turned out he was in the same... no, a worse situation, he didn't get help from anyone. Not even his own soul. But, whatever. He's a grown man. If he's not talking to anyone about it, it's probably because he doesn't want to, so it's best to just leave him alone.

But her daemon, contradicting that thought process, faces the crow and asks, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

[atouts]

Childermass weathers most storms alone, figurative and literal both, which only exacerbates the problem of suddenly having another part of himself, one that can chatter away and try to cheer him up. Worse, it's a half of him that will give away secrets like this one, purely because she's worried about him.

"I wish I knew," the crow answers, giving her own birdy rendition of a shrug the best she can. "He never asks for h—"

Ah, but speak of the devil. The crow shuts up, beak snapping shut, just before the shop's door swings open and the man himself steps out. He glances towards the bird first out of habit, simply knowing she exists there, a constant on the edge of his perception now that she exists, but that attention is quick to shift to Rita and her own daemon. At them, he frowns, brow furrowing.

"Ms. Mordio," he says by way of greeting, even if his expression says he'd rather be telling them to bugger off. He'll step closer, away from the door, though really only so he isn't blocking it. "Enjoying Greysol thus far?"

mine now!!!

[whattaprick]

Though they're supposed to be here looking for the recently appointed acquisitioner, Lambert and his daemon appear to be having a spirited disagreement rather than enjoying the party. She's perched on his wrist like a hunting hawk, the glamour that hides her real nature from the local residents still visible from time to time and lending her the odd appearance of being a polecat with feathers from one moment to the next. The nightrider himself is sitting on a bench, a collection of trinkets-- brooches, necklaces -- spread out on a cloth beside him.

"Come on, you can gloat over your hoard later! Let's go find him!"

"Why are you so worked up for?" Lambert scowls, using a claw to hook into one of the necklaces in question, examining it in the light. "If he wants to come and find us, he will. No point looking..." Desperate is the word that comes to mind, but that's embarrassing to actually say out loud.

His daemon, however, isn't fooled, giving him a stare and a toss of her head. "You're such an idiot. You know you want to -- oh!"

The scolding tone is cut off by an exclamation of surprise as a crow swoops down to snatch a one of the trinkets away. There's a tremor of recognition, but it's all put aside as she launches herself airborne after the bird, aiming for a midair tackle.

[atouts]

And the crow ends up giving a startled squawk at being tackled before she can make off with the trinket she's snatched up. There's a clatter of items as she flails her wings for a moment, back on the bench with a hawk-but-actually-polecat on her, some even getting scattered to the ground, but it'll all settle again once she realizes who it is tackling her.

"There you are!" She stops flapping about and turns to prod the polecat with her beak. "You didn't have to jump on me like that! Now you've made a mess!"

More like they both made a mess, but at least it sounds like the daemon had been looking for them around the part, which means Childermass isn't far behind. He isn't at all, really, now that someone's pounced on what's basically his soul, so. He steps into sight as he leaves the crowd, no one noticing that there's suddenly another person wandering around in a space previously left empty. People are, on a whole, bad at comprehending that kind of idea, much more willing to accept he'd been there the entire time and they simply hadn't noticed.

It's a few more steps from that point to the bench Lambert and the two daemons are, the latter of which the magician frowns at.

"Stop messing around," he tells them once there, stopping to stand before Lambert even if his attention is elsewhere.

[whattaprick]

The voice that comes out of the bird's mouth has both the witcher and the polecat's attention immediately. The polecat stays right where she is, still draped heavily over the bird (or as heavily as she can; she's a light thing made of mostly fluff), but the grip of her furry paws eases, at least, and she doesn't follow through on the bite she'd been about to give the back of the crow's neck (just in warning, but still).

"You started it!" The polecat finds her voice first of the two of them indignant, and Lambert rolls his eyes just in time for Childermass to arrive, more or less confirming his suspicions of whose daemon it belongs to. They make a funny pair on the bench, still sprawled on the cloth he'd been sorting jewelry on, but he won't let them stay there for long.

"Off the cloth," he orders, though whether the daemons listen or not, he's reaching to tug it out from under them both, and as much of the jewelry as he can wrap back in it with it. The rest that have scattered, he's leaning down to pick up and put back in with the rest. Sorting will have too happen later.

[atouts]

"I did not! You leapt at me, not the other way around!" The crow snaps back at the polecat, but that comes to an abrupt stop when Childermass arrives to frown at her and tell her off. She immediately falls silent and shrinks away from her other self, attempting to shuffle off the cloth as much as she can with a polecat hanging over her like that.

Which is the end of the attention Childermass will even offer either of the daemons, attention flitting to Lambert as he goes about recollecting the jewelry, then to the jewelry and other trinkets scattered around. The urge to pocket the nearest item n the bench while the witcher isn't looking itches in his fingertips, but he ignores it. Whether something will end up there regardless, though, has yet to be seen. More often than not it happens without him even noticing, but, for now, he'll resist.

"You can't even wear half of those, Lambert. What are you even going to do with earrings?"

[whattaprick]

"You're the one who--" But the chatter is interrupted when the crow suddenly goes silent, and the polecat glances between the magician and his daemon warily. She'll follow the crow off the cloth, keeping close, sitting on her haunches and tail twitching inquisitively.

"You never know," Lambert shrugs. "I could get my ears pierced. Think that'd suit me?"

[atouts]

"Hang something gaudy enough from them and it may distract from your personality," Childermass answers ever so helpfully. Ah, but he's not exactly here to speak with Lambert, now is he? Right. It's the daemon who offered an explanation and that means he turns to look the polecat's way again.

The crow remains quiet still, even with the question being posed to the other daemon next to her.

"But you mentioned being able to explain dust, did you not?"

[whattaprick]

"Why would I want to?" Lambert grins, mocking. "It makes me so many friends." But his attention is going to focus on keeping his hands busy checking his jewelry hasn't scattered entirely to the wind.

The polecat seems surprised to be addressed, having settled on turning to the crow beside her. Nonetheless, she flicks an ear at Childermass, then nudges the crow, playfully.

"Easier if we show you first. We need one of those things over there. Come on!" And she flies off the bench into the air with utter disregard for the laws of physics. Lambert, having seen this before, knows exactly what that means. Swearing, the last of the jewelry is shoved clumsily into his pocket as gets to his feet to stumble after her before he can experience the humiliation of being yanked along again. Luckily, where she's headed isn't too far -- a loose collection of partygoers where one man is holding a small cup-like object up to his face and looking around, an expression of faint awe and excitement on his face.

Not that the polecat has any respect for that. "Oi, you!" she trumpets as she skids in, making a number of the onlookers and their daemons scatter back in alarm. Lambert, bringing up the rear, tries look like he meant for that to happen. "Let us borrow that scrylense for a second, will you?"

[atouts]

There's something endlessly amusing about watching Lambert get dragged around by what is, basically, a flying piece of fluff. Lively, he would definitely describe the polecat that way, although acknowledging the other man's daemon as an actual being worth speaking to leads to an uncomfortable feeling. He shoots a look back towards his own, the crow, where she huddles silently on the bench, and they both linger there a moment longer while the polecat raises a fuss over by the partygoers.

Then he shakes his head and turns to go, following after. The crow, of course, flies off to stay close as soon as his back is turned. She'll find another place to perch once Childermass catches up, but never on him, like nearly all other bird-like daemons in the crowd. There's no perching on a shoulder for her, but maybe on another bench or a nearby table edge.

He'll give the cup-like object a curious look while the polecat asks for it, idly thinking to add, "She won't leave you be until let her. I've met the type before. They're all like that."