lostcarnival | ⇨ THE PRINCE IS DEAD

Entry tags:

⇨ THE PRINCE IS DEAD

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 178 - B1: Day 6
Where: The Carnival and sometimes on top of the Heart of Stone.
What: Now that the Prince is dead and gone, there's a lot left to sort out. As the remaining servants are liberated and those captured by the Prince are tended to, it's time for recovery and goodbyes.
Warnings: Nothing in particular.

HOME GROUND↴

At long last, it is over. The Prince is dead, and all of his stolen Names have been restored - all that's left to do is treat the wounds and move on. For the first day or two, the Ringmaster will be arranging passage for the servants that are left, all of which have remembered their names for the first time in years. The earth elemental that had been trapped and forced to serve as the Prince's manor, the Heart of Stone, is happy to help for the moment. It appreciates the Ringmaster's mercy, and is free after untold eons of imprisonment.

Yet, there are plenty of aspects that are far from simple. There are still servants left mad and transformed into beasts, with no easy way to change them back. The Prince's spells outlive him, and those bearing his poison and his curses will have a difficult road ahead of them. Though most of the bestial servants have been rounded up, and a large number that had been reduced to unmoving statues returned, even the Ringmaster can't return them to normal so simply.

The next week is for rest and for settling remaining affairs. If you want to bid farewell to any particular NPCs, or assure care is given where it's needed, now is the time to do it.

► A CURE: The Ringmaster will tell everyone simply - there is no simple way to undo another fae's magic. The Prince's powers were essentially on par with hers, which means that those who have been transformed to stone and those that were cursed into beasts and driven insane are not something she can trivially fix. It will take the work of the carnival and a couple weeks of treatment to shed the curse of stone, and the maddened servants are an entirely separate matter. She will do what she can, but for the most part she is arranging for the Prince's servants to be cared for elsewhere. At least for now, the Ringmaster will be animating the stone portions of people's bodies with magic, though those portions will still be a bit clumsy and numb feeling.

► THE NEW HEARTSTONE: In the absence of the prince, the Heart of Stone will be taking over the remains of the Prince's realm and preventing it from collapsing into void. As it turns out, the manor had been an earth elemental all along - a form of Wyld Fae almost on par to the Prince and Ringmaster themselves. How the Heart of Stone was enslaved is a long story presumably, but the Ringmaster considers it to be a sign of the Prince's own depravity. The Heart will be allowing visitors for the first couple days of this period through the portal, but keep in mind you are essentially just walking around on its body. At least the realm has a floor, now, instead an endless abyss surrounding it.

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Lambert's walking around a bit more, though any significant distance is pretty beyond him. However, it's been long enough since he's seen his horse that it finally drives him out to the paddock by the lakeside. He could probably ride if he wanted to, though the idea of hoisting himself onto his horse sounds like a dreadful amount of work right now. At the very least, he should reassure them he's alive, meaning he's headed for the lake with a bag of fruit pilfered from the kitchen and some pokebeans he swiped from his trailer.

What catches him by surprise is seeing the man sitting on the ground, currently using the paddock fence as a backrest. Well, well. Looks like someone else made it back, huh? Lambert shifts his weight to one foot, considering, then shrugs.

If Tyki didn't want to be woken up, he shouldn't have slept somewhere anyone could wake him. "Rise and shine, Mr. Mikk," Lambert says, loudly. He'd nudge him with a foot to wake him up, but he's not keen on the potential of being spilled onto his ass. "This isn't your trailer."

Any long distance for him was taxing right now but he was determined to seek out these hot springs he had heard so much about. He doesn't know if they actually exist but there was only one way to find out. The problem was it was still a long journey for someone inflicted with this aggravating poison. He had to stop and rest somewhere. Even if it turned out to be night by the time he got there he would just need a couple hours of rest.

How inconvenient of him that the spot he had chosen was in someone's way. He hadn't been able to sleep properly on his back in over a week. Thankfully any slight noise, poke, or vibration tended to wake him easily right now. He's wary of everyone but not enough to outright attack if disturbed. An eye cracks open lazily when he's nudge and will huff lightly at Lambert standing there.

"Oh, it's not?" comes his sarcastic answer, "I must've gotten turned around."

"Definitely not," Lambert agrees. "You must not have much of a sense of direction. That, or the poison got you worse than I thought."

He really isn't in any shape to talk, though, since the first thing he does after he says that is lean on the fence, heavily, using the wood to support his weight. There aren't any horses in the paddock right now, but that doesn't seem to worry Lambert much. He puts his fingers to his mouth and whistles sharply, twice, then waits.

There's nothing, for a good long few seconds, before Tyki will suddenly become aware of a very palpable tremor underfoot, perhaps one he even recognizes. Racing towards them from further down the lakeshore is the same large horse Lambert was leading when they first met, this time trailed by a smaller, bright orange-and-blue blur. The witcher grins at the sight, and by the time the horse comes up to them, he's already got an apple out for her. One she actually ignores, to start, in favor of butting her head gently into his shoulder, making him laugh.

"Yeah, you're a sight for sore eyes too," he smirks, reaching up to scratch her between the ears. The donkey is slower to bring up the rear, and he trundles right on over to Lambert. Unfortunately, he may not much care whether he bumps into Tyki on the way or not.

"Well, usually I am allowed to sleep where I want to so I don't really see the problem, poison or not." Other than the fact he's in the way.

"I'm surprised you yourself made it out here this far as well," he starts to tease. The whistle cuts off whatever else he was going to say and a brow kinks rather high.

He might not have remembered Lambert's name at first but he certainly remembers this feeling. The horse is recognizable and he's comforted by the sight of owner and horse gently interacting with each other. "How cute," he remarks as he lifts a hand to grab the top of the fence. He's bumped and his Power to Choose activates instantly to avoid being stepped on. Unfortunately that means if the donkey does manage to step on him or bump into him again the feeling with be almost a tingle at the phasing.

He awkwardly hefts himself up onto his feet with a rough stand. The Ringmaster has bestowed the ability to bend his petrified back now but it is still rough and he doesn't have his usual flexibility. It'll crack audibly with a stretch and Lambert might even notice his manticore wings aren't exactly showing. They are hidden under his shirt. He'll even step back through the fence if that is the quickest route to getting out of the way. "Ah, I see you're not the only one that seems to lack any manners."

Butcher's clumsy, so another collision is inevitable -- but when he encounters nothing but a tingle at passing through, the mudbray pauses in confusion. Apparently concluding it's nothing to worry about, he sneezes and shakes his head (sending floppy donkey ears a-wiggle, which is certainly cuter than it has any right to be) before trundling over to grandpa and attempting to ram into the back of his knees. Considering they're both made of stone right now, they don't budge, though Lambert rocks unsteadily on his feet before he catches his balance.

"Not for lack of trying," he snorts, shaking his head. "Don't know where he gets it from. His parents were both easy enough to train."

Pig, more delicate than her offspring, makes quick work of the apple, and is already nosing at Lambert for more. Digging into his pocket, he comes up with a couple more apples, offering her one and nodding at Tyk while waving the other.

"Here, catch. See if he'll take it from you." He lobs the apple in a slow, easy arc for the other man, and it immediately catches the mudbray's attention, his short neck craning comically as his wall-eyed gaze follows the path of the fruit.

Edited 2017-11-25 02:58 (UTC)

He opts to leaning forward onto the fence from the other side of the padlock. Sitting is so much better than standing right now but he doesn't have that luxury right now. It's half his fault, he knows, from sleeping in an inconvenient place. He eyes the mudbray curiously as it certainly doesn't look like any donkey breed he knows. He's learned not to question the creatures in the carnival at any rate.

Tyki's starting to smile cockily as he watches the three interact with each other. His own snort sounds in response, "I have found in life that there are those who are stubborn despite their upbringing." Those are the best kinds of people in his opinion.

Despite the poison in his system Lambert will find Tyki's reflexes with his hands at least still capable. Given Lambert didn't fastball it at him he lets it roll against his fingers momentarily. He's tempted to eat it but then that would be rude now that he has gained the donkey's attention. He has no murderous intent or mischievous air about him as he holds out the apple at Lambert's request with his palm upwards.

"Heh, it is hard to resist a delicious apple. It's all yours if you want it..."

"Can't disagree with that," Lambert laughs, patting Pig's neck as she takes the second apple readily. "Though the way you say that, I'm not sure if you're talking about yourself or someone else."

Could be both, easily enough. Tyki seems a stubborn sort as well.

Butcher's ears prick up instantly, of course -- as soon as Tyki puts his hand down close enough to his eye level, he'll have a donkey shoving his face into his palm, though thankfully he doesn't bite any fingers as he eats the apple off them. The diminutive size is no indication of a lack of appetite, of course, and no sooner is he finished than he's already pawing at Tyki for another.

"The apples? Yeah, I'm definitely talking about myself," he responds with a half grin. He knows Lambert was talking about the stubbornness and upbringing. Doesn't mean he can't tease.

It's true though. He was a very pampered noble that pretty much got whatever he wanted if he put effort towards it. Titles mean nothing here but unlike other spoiled brats he doesn't expect anything from anyone since he's not a noble in the carnival. Then again, there was always cheating.

Without the intent to attack/harm his teeth would go right through his fingers anyways. The donkey gets to eat that entire apple all to himself. It's the sudden pawing at him that makes him grin a little wider. Tyki always has an apple or two on him and if Butcher can find it he'll pull it free and give it to him. "I've never seen a donkey like this or a horse like yours."

Lambert, being Lambert, just laughs, quiet little 'heh' that probably sounds more derogatory than he means it to. Then again, it's Lambert: it's hard to say what's intentional and what isn't...

"That's because they're from one of the worlds we visited before you signed up ... or Pig is, anyway." He nods at the horse. Tyki may or may not have been paying attention to the radio, but Lambert vaguely recalls it wasn't until after Tyki joined that he found the egg in Pig's paddock. "She had Butcher later."

Butcher can smell the apples, so it probably won't take him too long before he manages to locate the lump of one wherever it is on Tyki's person.

He almost disputes the fact he 'signed up' when in truth he did put his name on her contract. Still, he says nothing and instead watches the donkey manhandle him from across the gate. It's enough to walk back through it with his Power to Choose and when Butcher finds his prize he'll dig into his pocket to pull out the apple.

He'd be surprisingly easy to knock over right now with his guard lowered around the animal so he just lets him have it instead of teasing and playing keep away.

"I remember you mentioning her before with an egg. I didn't put that much thought into it nor did I pay attention to the conversations for long. None of it seemed to make any sense." Nor was it really vital information to gather in general. "In this carnival I have learned just about anything is possible."

"Pokemon don't make sense," Lambert agrees, firmly, even as Butcher, the greedy little bastard, inhales the second apple as quickly as the first.

"Horses shouldn't be able to start earthquakes, dogs shouldn't be able to breathe fire, and they definitely shouldn't be able to have an egg together. But here we are." He gestures, vaguely. Of course, the concept of 'shiny' Pokemon is completely lost on Lambert, so he has no idea Butcher's colors aren't inherited, but he is the same bright orange sheen as Childermass's dog, and his temperament's closer to Baker's too. Enough proof that there's a relation, as far as Lambert's concerned.

"Pokémon. Right." Because he's heard that term once before and had no idea what it was. Now it makes a little more sense to lump in these creatures into a category.

"You know, at first I thought you were the one causing the earthquakes, not the horse, when I first met you." He had already met a lot of people in his life that could utilize powers or use their Innocence to create devastating effects.

He's spoiling Butcher now with a third and final apple he has on him to avoid him nosing around for more. He offers it with the same half reluctance, half amusement, as the last. "Ah, so that was the egg you lot were talking about. That's a bit strange."

That makes Lambert laugh, loudly enough to startle Butcher to look at him, but not enough to make him go for that last apple (om nom nom).

"I'm no magician," he shrugs. "But yeah, I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself. Didn't even hatch or anything -- it was just an egg, and then..." He twirls a finger, indicating the little shit who's cleaned Tyki out. Who's also decided, apparently, that Tyki is his favorite person now, since he's doing his best to lean against his legs while whickering happily.

"You're never getting rid of him now."

"It's hard to discern who is or isn't a magician at this carnival even with spells and powers so readily available within a lot of their grasps." Even he couldn't rightly be called a magician or wouldn't be in his world. He performed the impossible day with his power but it wasn't magic like Strange's. Then again, magic could be taught.

His hand is up for a moment near the donkey currently showing affection because he himself has not much idea on where to touch such a strange creature. In the end it is treated much like a horse as his hand slides down its head over and down the side of the neck. His other hand is up against its face with a light pat.

"Ah, see. I told you apples were worth the appreciation."

Edited (wording orz ) 2017-12-05 13:13 (UTC)

"If apples could get us everything we wanted, the world would be a much simpler place."

At the end of the day, it is still a donkey. Butcher reacts favorably to the hand on his head, though he shies away with a snort from the hand on his face, and Lambert chuckles.

"But they can be picky about where you pet them." Satisfied that Pig's in good enough shape for now, he lets her go, though she'll stay as close as she can, ears tilting and swiveling inquisitively. There's little warning for what the witcher says next.

"So, you still feeling like shit?"

"Maybe but then over time given the change and flow of humanity we'd be fighting over apples," he replies with little or no filter on his words right now. It's true and it is hard to deny.

Being an information gatherer and one who adapts to situations he'll learn from that and remember to keep pets towards the head and not on the snout. "Everyone has their little places they love scratched the most."

Yet the conversation changes drastically in measure and in tone. He'll turn his attention away from Butcher and focus solely on Lambert now. "Yes, but not as much as before."

The witcher makes a discontent noise of irritation, though it isn't directed at Tyki so much as it's directed at the circumstances in general.

"But it could be better." He glances at Tyki. "We're working on a cure for the poison. Or will be, soon. That should help clear things up."

"It could be a lot better. As sick as I am I am also fascinated to a small degree," he says as his fingers raise to touch over his heart. He has no idea where his soul is suppose to be but he figures that's a good start, "After all I shouldn't be poisoned."

His wings will flutter in discomfort under his shirt as they seep through his clothing with his power and stretch outwards into the air. Already the petrification has started to stagger up them, his shoulders, and the back of his neck. There's a grim turn of his unrelaxed grin in disgusting sarcasm, "But we live with our choices, don't we? Still, I'm not going to complain if you hurry. Then maybe I wouldn't have to find odd places to sleep."

"We live with our choices," Lamber agrees, a defiant spark coming to his eye and the way he lifts his chin. "And living doesn't mean lying down and waiting to take what comes."

He'd made his choice agreeing to be Childermass's distraction, fighting Sans across that balcony. Not all of the circumstances were ideal, but at least the decisions were his own. He's over the worst of his wallowing about it, and now he's ready to keep going, whatever it takes. Though Tyki's words make him smirk a little, cocking his head.

"You aren't human, I can tell that much. What are you?" The question is abrupt and direct, perhaps, considering the last time they touched on this topic Tyki seemed ready to toss Lambert off a balcony, but hey, maybe it'll be relevant for the cure. "The poison affects the soul, so you've at least got one of those."

"Except, that's what we did, isn't it? We waited despite our efforts to escape. From my understand there were several that attempted to find me when I went missing and then others went missing but no one was found," he says as his hands found outwards to display both of his hands as if weighing the options, "While the others eventually rested and Sans was worse for wear down in that Underbelly, I went out and looked for a way out every day."

And he was someone who still tried to attack the Prince before being enchanted and got a nice sting for his efforts. Reira and Julien were spared that petrification because they didn't fight back. Yet he can't say he just stood there and took it either.

"You're not the first to ask me that," he begins, quite sure he won't be the last either. Questions like that meant death in his world but here none of that really mattered nor was there any real reason to hide, "In my world I am called a Noah. Not that I expect you to know what that is." He's teasing for all of Lambert's directness.

Lambert shrugs, lips tightening. "Retrieving whoever's gotten themselves lost is supposed to be the nightrunners' job." One they hadn't done very well at, unfortunately, but none of them were really equipped to deal with fae. They'll be better prepared next time -- they have to be.

But then Tyki goes on, and he shakes his head slightly, smirking. "No, I don't know what that is. But I don't expect you to know what a witcher is, either."

"Is it now? Not that I blame anyone but myself," he begins even if he's over it already, "I imagine training might be in order then." Not that he can really say that for himself. Fae were the unknown variable. How did one even train for fae.

"Something to do with witches?" Of course, witches were painted likely a different way in his world. Regardless, he continues, "Humans in my world all contain a specific gene. When a Noah dies, given time after his or her death, that gene awakens in a random human. We are given immense strength, speed, agility, and unique abilities and magic. Every Noah is unique in some way and there are only thirteen at any given time." Unless you counted the wayward Fourteenth but Lambert didn't need to know that.

How indeed. That's a question Lambert's asked himself more than once, but ... he knows he's not like to find any easy answers. But it's best to take things one day at a time.

"Sometimes," Lambert shrugs, after a pause to contemplate what Tyki's just told him. 'Unique abilities,' huh ... that doesn't sound ominous at all. He cocks his head, electing not to elaborate further in favor of asking his own nosy questions instead.

"So it could happen to any human, at any time?" Sounds nasty. "Means you're taking over someone's life, doesn't it? Do you still remember being human?"

"Any human of my world," he clarifies in case that didn't quite stick, "But you're right. It is kind of like taking over the previous generations memories and experiences." Or he was suppose to. The one that previously killed all the Noah before his own messed with the 'Memory' and only those that survived the encounter remember everything from the previous timeline of Noah.

He's aware that he's not getting information back right now but that could always come later. He knows Lambert and anyone else that has asked if he's human was seeking more than willing to give. Thankfully, Tyki liked to talk.

"Yes, I remember being human. I remember growing up, the lessons that came with it, everything. I remember the change and the pain that came with it, the fresh memories, and the abilities the followed." After a while most Noah rejected their humanity and gave up everything that came with being human. Tyki was that rare sort that didn't. He was unique but that was his choice. Despite everything, his family accepted him into their fold.

"I figured that much," Lambert answers, a touch amused, though he cocks his head as Tyki goes on. It's an interesting enough story, and he's content enough listening to it. He may not be offering much back, but that's largely because it seems weird to make the conversation about himself when it seems more like Tyki's happy to talk about himself. Still, it's not an experience he finds entirely unrelatable. Waking up to knowing your world's changed forever ... he knows what that's like.

Tyki doesn't sound regretful, so he's not going to bother asking if he wishes it could have been otherwise. It just sounds like a fact -- people live, people die, people sometimes take over other people's bodies and get reborn.

"Do you remember being a Noah before, too?" he asks, his ears flicking idly. "Must get confusing, carrying that much around in your head. And why only thirteen?"

⇨ THE PRINCE IS DEAD

D5, lakeside -- let me know if this works!

Oh yeah this works perfectly!

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