lostcarnival | ⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

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⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

Who: Everyone!
When: Winter Breaks: Day 6 - Day 25
Where: THE MOON
What: The carnival journeys to one of its moons to celebrate the Lunar Solstice. More information here.
Warnings: Winter fun.

MOON WALKING↴

The journey to the moon only takes a blink of an eye, but it leaves the carnival far away beneath you. The second moon can be seen on the peripheral, massive compared to its usual view. At least when the holidays start out, there will be no notable wildlife on the moon, though this is something you can talk to the Ringmaster about if you think it needs a change. It sounds like this is the first time she's used it in quite a while - it probably needs some dusting off!

Claim your cabins, and proceed to... well, do whatever you want! There is no rush and little obligation, besides to enjoy yourself. For real, this time. She promises there will be no vampires. Or, at least, none that don't already work for the carnival.

► CABINS: Living arrangements are character choice for this event, and there are a variety of cabins of various sizes, mostly built to house 2-6 people, though you can fit more in if you squish. They are all made of wood and of a rustic design - no fancy modern furniture, here! Each building is housed with a fireplace and the needed amenities. You can pick up materials to cook with the private kitchens if you like. Theoretically, you could spend the whole holiday sequestered away, watching the snow fall. Some of them also have outdoor hot tubs available!

► ACTIVITIES: Activities are mostly going to be character driven, though there will be some large group games like bingo and maybe a poker tournament happening at some point in one of the festival halls. Otherwise, there is a lot to offer: skiing, snowboarding, hiking, ice sculpting, snowball fights - it goes on! If you'd like to run a winter activity, just let the mods know, and we will get the word out there for you.

► FEASTING: Every day isn't a full-out feast because that would get a bit unhealthy, but there will be a number of specific feast events over the holidays where everyone is encouraged to let out their inner hedonist and stuff themselves. There will be one big feast per week, with smaller but also delicious meals offered in between. The feast dates will be B12, B18, and B24. There's also plenty of alcohol available for anyone who wants it.

► SHOPPING: As mentioned in the planning post, there is a massive market being run by the World Walker Caravan! The Ringmaster has given everyone 1250 credits to spend on items, but there is a caveat - must spend at least 500 of those credits on gifts for other people. And it better be a good one, if you only buy one! (She will ask that you do not buy her presents, however. She appreciates the sentiment, but it seems sort of silly buying her things with her own money! If you'd like to gift her, please have it be something more personal or handmade, but you are not obligated to get her anything at all.)

► TREATMENTS: The beginning of the holidays will also be about the time that the emergency Medical Team will have finalized their treatments for the Prince's poisoning. Watch out for further information on that - and make sure to get treated if you are suffering from petrification or poison induced illness! The holidays will be a lot more fun that way.

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Lambert raises his brows. "You know, it's not too late to change jobs. Carly probably wouldn't mind another assistant." Except no, Strange might be able to sound like he knows what he's talking about as far as fashion goes, but he also has the attention span of a damselfly and a tendency to set things on fire besides. Lambert was only guessing by eye, but at least he got the size right. But hey, since Strange is claiming to know something about fashion...

"You're about the same size as Childermass." Give or take a few inches in dimensions, but Lambert can't for the life of him imagine the other magician caring much about things like 'a bit loose in the chest,' so that's irrelevant. "He needs a new coat."

Because Lambert had fucked up his. It's a bit of a non sequitur, that's for certain, but it was Strange who'd dropped that idle jab about Lambert needing help with a present for Childermass in the first place, and he's right. Lambert needs the help. It's just awkward to actually say it out loud, much less to admit that Strange and him really must be friends, because they share a similar talent for pissing Childermass off when they don't mean to.

"If I change jobs, I'm swapping to administration. There's a greater chance of being promoted to supervisor that way." Which on the one hand, ew responsibilities, but on the other hand, the chance at having a larger trailer is certainly appealing.

And well then. The coat's for Childermass? A wry little smile plays on Strange's face. He doesn't entirely know what's between Lambert and Childermass but they certainly have been spending a lot of time in each other's company lately. No matter what, he's glad of it. Whether the man realizes it or not, Childermass needs people he can trust. Considering that Strange honestly has no idea if he'll ever reach that point, at least there's Lambert.

"I doubt he'd wear this one," said as Strange examines some of the sleeve detail. "It's too ostentatious. Have you ever seen Childermass wear anything remotely gaudy? He sticks to blacks and dark colors." But mostly blacks.

Lambert can't help it -- he barks a laugh. "I can't imagine you supervising anyone," he says. "No offense. But I can't see you giving up magic for numbers."

Though knowing Strange, he'd still stick with the magic somehow. Just differently, maybe.

"I know he doesn't wear color. I just wanted to see how ridiculous it'd look on you." The performance outfit he used to wear, the same one he wore at the Manor ... that's as gaudy as it gets, and Lambert's pretty sure he only wore that because he was dedicated to the job and then later because he was too practical to discard any piece of clothing. Right now, they haven't actually spoken to each other in a few days, after the argument that left Childermass disappearing through a shadow after so unexpectedly appearing in the first place; Lambert still can't figure out what he was there for in the first place.

"I wouldn't have to. I could still be a magician while being an accountant, I simply wouldn't perform."

He'd definitely stick with magic somehow. It's too much a part of him now to ever give it up.

Blissfully unaware of any arguments Childermass and Lambert might have had, Strange continues rifling through the clothes for something that Childermass might actually wear in the first place. Unfortunately, a lot of these seem to be brightly colored. Thankfully, there's a few other racks of clothing for them to rifle through.

"I'll look through the rack on the other side of the tent if you give this one another once-over." After all, Lambert can't really walk. Strange has accepted the fact that he'll be the one carrying things and walking around and doing things of that sort.

"All right," Lambert nods. It's after a few moments of browsing (and occasionally leaning over to compare something or another, though usually it's Lambert holding up something more to make Strange laugh than anything) that he'll speak up again, casually.

"So is he still pissed at you, or what?"

"We've actually made up," Strange remarks. And from his tone of voice, he's downright surprised about that. "Apparently I'm an 'idiot when it comes to people'—his words, not mine—but I apologized and he accepted it."

And then proceeded to dwell on it for the next however long. He knows he needs to be humble so that Childermass can see he's being humble and take back that 'you only think about yourself' comment but honestly, Strange is struggling a bit on ideas.

He's still wearing the dumb witch hat as he holds up a coat to himself, frowns, then puts it back in the rack of clothes.

"That easy, huh?" Then again, Childermass doesn't seem the type to waste time or energy on pointless endeavors, of which staying angry at Strange would almost certainly be. If Strange was hoping for buttpats, he'll have to live with disappointment, because Lambert grins and follows that up with: "He's not wrong, though."

His attention drifts away from the coat rack -- even at glance he can already tell the rest isn't anything the magician would wear -- and lands on some of the other outfits instead. If he was picking armor, that would be one story, but clothes a man like John Childermass would actually use? Hell if he knows. He nods towards one of the displays.

"See anything over there?"

Strange was hoping for buttpats because he exists in a perpetual state of wanting buttpats, either for sympathy or people telling him how cool he is. Still, this is Lambert, he expects getting teased. So Strange matches Lambert's grin with one of his own. "If I'm an idiot when it comes to people, then what does that say about you? After all, you willingly associate with me."

It's all teasing, of course, and as Lambert nods towards the display, Strange walks over to look through it. There's few moments where Strange rifles though some of the clothes before he lets out a little triumphant bark of laughter.

"I might have found the thing!" And he pulls out an outfit that looks oddly piratical and far less shabby than Childermass's normal wear, but it's monochromatic and practically understated compared to the rest of the clothing here. "What do you think?"

"Means we both have low standards for company," Lambert grins. Still, as Strange triumphantly holds up his prize, he can't help looking it over dubiously. The coat's fine, sure, but the rest of it...?

"Does it come with all this?" He reaches out to touch the cloth -- the brocade is understated, but between that and the lining it seems sturdy enough, clothing meant to be worn rather than simply a costume. On closer inspection, the stitching is fine and close even if the outfit is just a bit more ostentatious than he'd expect Childermass to put on.

As it happens, the hanger also appears to be connected to one of the hats hung up and out of the way. Lambert laughs as he reaches up for it and tugs it down, twirling it in hand. "I want to see if we can get him to wear this."

Strange just grins like an idiot as he sees that hat. Because compared to some of the hats out here, it's not a terrible hat but compared to the hats Strange and Childermass own, it's definitely a terrible hat.

"Then it's settled," Strange adds in with a little smirk. "That's the outfit we're buying Childermass."

Wait, we're? Strange doesn't know if that's a slip of the tongue or him just barging onto Lambert's plans but yet, it's a we're now.

"So we're buying it now, is it?" Lambert smirks back at Strange. "If that's how it's going to be, you'd better put your money where your mouth is."

If the magician's going to get all conjugal about a gift, the least he can do is pay his fair share of it. Arguably, he's done the lion's work of actually picking something out here because a conscientious shopper for other people, Lambert is not.

"Didn't you hear me talking about my budget? I'll simply subtract my share from the amount I rationed out for Childermass." Strange is all grins and all smiles as he continues talking. He finally takes off the dumb witch hat he's wearing and sets it down on a nearby rack before grabbing the coat, hat, and all the items that come with the outfit.

"Besides, I was planning to spend some money today anyway." And then, in a bright, cheerful tone loud enough where everyone in the nearby vicinity can hear, Strange continues, with zero shame, "Did you know they sell cannabis here?"

"You've got how much you're paying for gifts rationed out?" It's a ridiculous concept to attach that much organization to Strange, of all people, and the disbelief in the witcher's voice shows it, but it's also immediately overtaken by a more pressing question as he follows Strange towards the caravan worker so they can get the purchase squared away. "Wait, how much do you have rationed for me?"

Because you bet your ass if Strange's apparently counting the pennies for gifts for everyone, Lambert had better be up there. When he asks that question, though, the witcher outright just laughs.

"Looking to get high, Strange?" Even if cannabis and hallucinogenics weren't already known in Lambert's world, after Portland, he definitely knows what a high is.

Strange doesn't answer Lambert's question about rationed out gifts. Instead, he finishes gathering up the items and moves towards the shopkeeper, gesturing for Lambert to follow him. It's one of the things from Portland that managed to stick. Some people learned a different language, some people turned into birds, other people learned how to keep a meticulous budget with enough cushion room for expenses.

Besides, it's so much more fun to talk about weed.

"Obviously. I haven't gotten high for pleasure since...probably Venice, if I'm not mistaken. It's long overdue so I'm going to enjoy myself." And get stoned on some magic weed. Great planning! He continues talking as the shopkeeper starts to make certain that all the pieces of the outfit are there before tallying them up himself. "You're welcome to join in, if you wish."

Lambert snorts. Normally, he wouldn't mind giving it a try, but considering how fucked up he got on a bottle of wine when it normally wouldn't touch him...

"I think I'll pass, but I can be there to keep you from breaking your neck or throwing up in the snow if you need a chaperone."

And now the shopkeeper's asking if they'd like this gift wrapped, which just sort of gets a blank look from Lambert. Even Portland Lambert, alas, wasn't particularly sharp with gift-giving.

"That might be for the best. I'm not going to smoke in my cabin and I don't know how this will affect me to begin with." Which for most people would logically be a reason not to smoke it in the first place but logic is for suckers and Strange wants to get high. "Besides, the fact that I'll inevitably say something stupid is probably incentive enough for you."

At least Strange is obvious about the fact that he expects to be a bit of a loopy mess when he's drugged up. Though the fact that Lambert offered to babysit is reassuring: he was straight up going to ask him otherwise.

As the shopkeeper asks about gift wrap, Strange just quickly responds that absolutely they do and picks out a slightly extravagant gift wrap for the present. Childermass honestly isn't going to know what to do with this wrapping paper, he loves this idea already.

"Pay up, by the way. It's either sixty eight or sixty seven from you."

"Aren't you staying with the Ringmaster?" And a whole bunch of other people, yeah, Lambert's seen sorority cabin. "Seems rude not to share." He can guess why Strange is a little bit embarrassed about lighting up with his boss -- which Lambert doesn't apparently count as, but that's not surprising either.

Still grinning like he can't quite believe Strange is, of all people, the one being responsible (fiscally, anyway; as the magician's enthusiasm about hallucinogens clearly points to, the newfound responsibility isn't equality distributed) Lambert goes ahead and takes the marginally larger share of the purchase, letting the caravan worker mark it against his total credit balance. It doesn't take long until Childermass's present is all wrapped up, and after that, once Strange has made whatever other purchases he intends, it's back to Lambert's cabin they go.

"Don't smoke near the beakers," Lambert warns, as they shoulder their way back in. "I don't want you knocking anything over." The air has cleared of the noxious fumes before and it's chilly in here, what with the windows open, but considering Strange is about to stink it up again, that's probably for the best.

The only other purchase Strange intends for today is the weed. Once he's purchased a share of it and talked with the person manning the booth about the best way to actually smoke it, they return to Lambert's cabin. Once there, Strange goes right to work, sitting down at one of Lambert's alchemy tables and breaking down the plant matter as the caravan member advised him to.

"If this is anything like the cannabis I smoked back home, you've no need to worry about anything getting broken. I don't have violent highs." It is not anything like normal weed. Strange is about to have some weird fun. Still, he does scoot away slightly from the beakers as he continues to work.

"Can I use this set-up later? I doubt I'll smoke all of this in one setting and want to see if I can brew some of the plant down into a tincture." Not exactly the tincture of madness that he's got back home but Strange has learned that some magic works best when one is in an...altered state. Besides, why the hell not have a little bottle of hallucinogenic plant juice? That sounds like an awesome idea!

"Maybe not violent, but clumsy' just as bad," Lambert points out. "You're not exactly coordinated even when you're sober. And you can use the equipment if you also clean up after yourself."

He won't bother with unwrapping himself much -- it's out of the wind here, but it's still cold, and unlike Strange, he won't have anything to warm him up ... except on that thought, he does have something. He heads over to the kitchenette, and while Strange fiddles with his weed, Lambert will go about boiling water.

"I'm having tea," he calls. "You want anything to drink with that?" Dry mouth could be a side effect of some drugs, if he remembers right.

"A glass of water would be lovely," Strange calls out. "Though if you have any food on hand, might as well set that out." Strange has a good feeling that he's going to develop a serious case of the munchies. Again, that's happened before.

As he finishes breaking down the plant matter, Strange pulls out some of the hemp paper given to him by the shopkeeper and starts to roll himself a joint. Truth be told, it'd be easier if he found a way to drink or ingest this instead of smoking it, but that's just personal preference (and would also take far too long). Strange took a lot of weird shit in Venice and a portion of said weird shit was smoked. As such, he's going through the motions like it's an old routine

"And I am perfectly coordinated when I'm sober," he retorts. "But yes, I would clean up after myself. Hell, you'd probably be watching me and bothering me to clean up as I brewed the plant down!" Now that the joint's rolled, Strange conjures a small fireball with one hand for the sole purpose of lighting the damn thing before snuffing the fire out by closing his hand. There we go. Now he just smokes and waits for the effects to hit.

"I would be," Lambert agrees, "Because you'd get distracted by something else and forget about it if I left you alone." Strange is very good at remembering to do shit when it's relevant to his interests, but if it's not magic, the chances of it being left by the wayside are pretty fucking high.

It doesn't take long for the water to heat up and the tea to steep, and then Lambert ambles right back over with a glass of water for Strange. The fireball doesn't get even a blink,; the shining, multicolored smoke that starts to fill the air as he puffs on that joint? That's something else entirely.

"Nice light show," he comments, before nodding towards the living room -- or, well, the living room furniture that's been shoved over to one side to make room for the lab setup. "Come on, let's sit over there."

Because if he's babysitting Strange, he might as well do it lazing around o the comfort of a couch.

Edited 2017-12-12 21:18 (UTC)

Strange is also distracted by the multicolored smoke for a brief moment. That's unexpected. Pleasant, but unexpected. His distraction swaps back to Lambert as the witcher gestures to what passes for the living room. And really, sitting down on a couch while getting high sounds like an amazing idea. Better that than the floor.

"This stuff is more potent than I expected," he idly remarks as he walks over to the couch. Strange takes another puff from the joint as he sits down. "I don't think I'm going to fall apart right away, but everything feels a little odd already."

Or, at least, that's how it feels to Strange, the man who's still a bit of a lightweight but has done so much drugs. He knows how to recognize the symptoms and this certainly feels like a symptom. The couch is a great idea.

"Made to hit fast? Makes sense. Not much point in buying drugs from a world-traveling caravan if they're like something you could pick up anywhere else."

Lambert occupies the opposite end of the couch, putting the glass of water on the sidetable and cradling his tea in one hand. He'd pass it to Strange, but he has the distinct feeling the magician's about to get much less coordinated fast, and water splashing everywhere is just about the last thing he wants when the windows are open like this.

Still, for as much as he's anticipating having to peel Strange off the floor or deal with his prattling in a few minutes, he can admit walking around was a welcome break from being kept inside. He's been focused on the cure to the exception of all else, and the argument with Childermass -- if one can really call it that, as one-sided as it was -- only serving as encouragement to avoid people more. He's not sure whether he should be grateful that it happened after he'd already moved most of his setup to the moon, or annoyed that this means he'll have to inevitably ask him to move it back, and no telling if the magician still intends to avoid him then...

Strange takes another puff from the joint, mostly to look at the smoke he exhales. It is rather pretty. (Though, smart move keeping the water at a distance.)

"I do wonder which world they picked this stuff up from in the first place," he admits, as he leans back in the chair. "It's called faerie weed but does it..." And then Strange trails off, thought lost as he blinks sluggishly. Everything's starting to go a bit purple. And not a deep purple, like the purple his smoke turns. More like a lilac. Everything's starting to go a bit lilac, as if he's wearing sunglasses that are tinting everything that shade.

Entirely oblivious to Lambert's mental monologue about Childermass, Strange badly represses a little giggle. Would Lambert think this is funny? Strange hopes he would, as the magician thinks it's hilarious. So much so that Strange badly represses another giggle, visibly biting on the corner of his lip to keep himself from laughing.

Turns out the weed hits REAL fast.

Edited 2017-12-14 03:17 (UTC)

Strange trails off and starts tittering like a twat, which is enough to make Lambert look down with a sigh.

"They probably stuck it on just to make it sound more mystical. Would you have bought it if they only called it 'will fuck you up weed'?" He asks. It's Strange; for all the poor experiences with faerie he's had, one would think he'd run away from anything with "faerie" attached, Instead, he seems to constantly hurtle towards.

"What's so funny?"

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