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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The huff of laughter that draws from her is tight, strained. "Varric once told me I was the luckiest person in Thedas to have lived through what I had." She wasn't certain about it then, and she's not certain about it now -- she doesn't feel lucky. All she feels is that she survived. An accomplishment, yes, but nothing to crow about.

"Mm," she says, in agreement. Not that she could compare with his magical knowledge and skill, but she'd felt something underneath it all. "At least it seems we are given the chance to do so." Which was something she appreciated, being as curious as she always was.

He shakes his head, understanding the irony in that. She was a survivor, much in the same way he was. At least she had her clan to return to, should she wish it for however long most of Thedas had remaining. A year and a day and he would have his focus back in hand.

"As long as our contracts remain," he agrees. As much as he wanted to learn of what was here, he could not stay longer than he signed for. He had too much work to do back on Thedas to stay here. "From what I have been hearing, we arrived at a good time. One of celebration rather than danger."

Which apparently was common here. No wonder they needed more medics.

A year and a day and she would know where he was, and come for him. It was the only thing she could do, felt like it mattered. Perhaps she could have wished for Solas to not tear down the Veil, but Lavellan feels as if he would never appreciate being forced to do anything. No, it had to be of his own free will. And there was the challenge.

"It's certainly a change of pace," for the both of them, as well as the carnival. She's no fool -- she knows he must be as busy as she with his own plans. "Now we simply have to keep ourselves from getting used to it, or else the next time we're all thrown into danger we'll have forgotten how to deal with it." Something that could apply to more than just this place and danger, Lavellan thinks, but keeps her sigh to herself.

Edited 2017-12-10 01:51 (UTC)

"I have no concerns regarding that," he returns with a shake of his head. He would not grow complacent with a year far from his plans in the midst of a magical carnival. The Inquisition and battle with Corypheus hadn't ben enough to draw him away, to shift his focus. The only time he had lowered his guard was--

Well. With her. That was the mistake he would have to avoid here.

"They would not be assigning those to healing and protection if they did not expect to travel dangerously." Among some of the other roles he has heard from those he has met.

Of course he wouldn't. But she wonders, still, if that is the truth -- he might have no concerns, but that did not mean it wasn't possible. He seemed to be a man of contradictions; Lavellan wonders if this is simply one more. Something to think about.

"It will my duty to help keep us from danger, beyond soothing tempers." As a scout, and Lavellan shakes her head slightly. "That they'd need both scouts and mercenaries means that force comes into play more often than not. Enough that they want to avoid it when they can, but that it isn't always possible."

Edited 2017-12-10 04:25 (UTC)

"Yes, and they keep healers at the ready. This will be the first in a long while you have received orders instead of giving them," he says, eyeing her curiously.

How would she handle that? She was going from the head of the Inquisition to being a simple scout and one on the watch for hostilities. Would she take to it as a relief from the role she had been forced into before? Or end up trying to take charge herself whenever she was able?

Lavellan can't deny the truth of that -- it would be. She was First long before she was Inquisitor, but even then that was a position of respect and authority. How was she supposed to simply go from having all of that to command to this? To being a simple scout?

By trying not to think about it too much. "It will be. But I gave up what power I had at the end of the Exalted Council." Something she's sure he knows, since part of the reason for disbanding it was the spies in its ranks -- both Qunari and his. "It will require some getting used to, back in Thedas and here."

"Yes, though in Thedas you are not beholden to anyone beyond yourself." There she hadn't signed a contract of servitude. That in itself had taken him a moment to grapple with, but that it had a foreseeable end and a reward so great, it would have been foolish to not swallow his pride and accept it.

"Have you found accomodations?" So he knows which part of the moon to avoid.

A wave of her hand is all the acknowledgement she'll give him. If only because she doesn't want to admit to herself that it will be hard, perhaps more difficult than adjusting to the strange magic all around them and the changes that they will eventually undergo. So she shoves the thought back into the depths of her mind and focuses on his question.

"I have yes," but that will be all she'll give him. "As there aren't any ruins around for you to take a nap in, I assume you've found some as well." And she won't ask where either -- that would be unfair.

"Yes," is his return response, similarly vague. How long they would be able to keep up a pretense at pleasant conversation, he's unsure. "We were at a disadvantage arriving after the others."

More in that they had less cabin options. The Ringmaster's had apparently become a place of true (loud) celebration and those who preferred to avoid it had already taken up residence in the cabins farther away. He had been fortunate finding the one that he had.

As long as she must, and then again every time they met each other. What anger burns under her skin at the thought of him is tempered by the desire to steer him away from the path he's on; he can't be allowed to return to Thedas to burn it all, he can't. "I'm not sure if picking our own is any better than being assigned ones."

Which will be their fate once the carnival packs up and moves on. Lavellan can only hope fate will be kind to the both of them, but sure doubts it.

He shrugs. "It is not as if we will be here long," he says. What was a year when he had lived for so many already? If he were truly cowardly, he would live out his days until after she was gone and complete his plans then rather than face her head on. Nevermind the pang and twist that hurt his chest at the thought.

"Are you concerned for our assignments?"

Solas is the only one who has that luxury. Lavellan doesn't have time, she doesn't have ages ahead of her and ages of past behind her. Just a mortal woman, no matter what the world has tried to make of her. "Perhaps that is how you see it, Solas. But a year is--" It's a year she's not back in Thedas, working to counter him, to find him. This will be better, she knows, but it's still a year.

"Merely curious. There aren't many people here, and I'd hate to find myself rooming with the one person I can't stand." Not that she's come across someone like that, but-- one never knew.

"A year is what you saw worth agreeing to, for what you asked," he returns with an infuriatingly calm tone. Whatever it was that she asked for. It was worth the time she would spend here even if that price was ultimately greater for her than him. No changing that now.

He eyes her at the statement, wondering if that is a subtle barb toward him. "I will keep that in mind should the unfortunate happen with our assignments." It would be simpler to stay far, far away from her if they were not sharing a trailer, after all.

It's a calmness she's only found infuriating when turned on her, as in this moment. Lavellan grits her teeth but nods; a year and a day was not too much to ask for, but she hadn't realized she'd be racing against his clock as well, for whatever he wanted. And it would set her far behind, potentially

A brow raises at that -- she hadn't intended the slight, he should still know that she -- well. It hardly mattered. "You might be asked to room with Sera, if she's lucky enough to join us," Lavellan teases, knowing full well his opinion of the other elf.

He may know that, but that did not change what had happened between them. The deceit from the very start was a burden they both had to bear though his shoulders felt lighter now that she knew. There was no reason to hide it anymore. She knew who he was and there was something freeing in that thought.

"And the myriad of lizards she would no doubt invite into the trailer before destroying it and taking her leave," he grumbles because someone remembers what Sera had done to his bedroll. At least he had his moment of revenge.

The truth hasn't changed her feelings, and Lavellan finds that equally as devastating as what he'd confessed to her. He has taken so much from her, has left her with nothing but her name and a burden she doesn't know how to deal with, and yet she still loves him. It isn't fair. And yet now they are as equal as they have never been before -- she is not Inquisitor, and he is not lying.

She doesn't know if it's enough to pull him back.

But the memory makes her grin, shaking her head. "You got her back well enough. She spent a few days after asking me how I knew I was a mage, and was only satisfied when I told her she would have known by then." But the young woman, despite their contentious relationship, was still a member of the Inquisition. Was a member.

It isn't fair. As much as the burden he has left her with, his own has grown heavier by knowing her. There hadn't been a true cost or something to lose in Thedas through his plans before now. Now he would have to meet her gaze as they fought to the end, forever at odds. Here would be a brief reprieve, and a dangerous one.

He makes a small sound of consideration. "If only you had convinced her to pursue an interest. I would have thought the image of being able to piss magic to be enough to amuse her into it," he replies, clearly quoting the other woman's distasteful phrasing. He and Sera had a strange sort of relationship to work around in the Inquisition.

If only her gods weren't false, she could have someone to blame. If only she could yell at him and beat her fists against his chest while she tells him she wishes Fen'harel would take him. But every aspect of her faith rings hollow, and the stories of the Dread Wolf simply ironic when faced with the subject of them. As it is, they only have themselves to blame.

Lavellan huffs a laugh at that, shaking her head as she keeps her strides even with Solas's. "I think the only thing she found amusing about the image was the idea of how undignified you must have looked. Although I am curious -- did you ever piss it? The fact you had to stop and think about it is troubling, you understand." She can't help but be amused by it all, and it must have happened during the youth he is so careful to distance himself from. As if he needed to -- that was no doubt thousands of years ago.

He waves off her amusement. "A year and a day is not enough time to tell the sordid stories of my youth." Which isn't a real answer. There was much he had done when he was younger, of all kinds of foolish and arrogant. They were stories he would consider sharing over a drink to pass the time here, depending on the company. Normally she would be that company, but--

"We have to face each other when we return," he says and watches her out of the corner of his eyes. Was it truly wise for them to behave so friendly? Exchange stories as if nothing else mattered?

"Enough to make a fair start," she counters, but it's his second statement that causes her to sober, amusement flooding from her face. He's right, of course. They will have to face each other one day. Sooner, with their contracts, rather than later. Lavellan falls silent, focusing on her steps in the snow even as her face betrays the way her heart twists -- emotions flickering across it as soon as they register.

Eventually she speaks again -- from the heart, as she always has done. "You act as if that can be made more difficult than it already is, Solas. Believe me when I tell you it cannot, for what more is there for you to do?" He is already going to destroy the world, and she will have to stop him or die trying. Whatever fleeting moments of casual encounters they have here won't change that.

"The way matters were between us cannot return to how they were before when--" When they were in the Inquisition together. When he had let himself slip and fallen for her. Fighting her would be tearing into his heart, but it was necessary. The only end he saw for this was the death of one of them and with their contracts...

He doesn't bother finishing his sentence. Instead, he focuses on the sound of the snow as he walks softly and keeps his head held high. For all the sins that he held, he would not let himself be stopped so easily.

It would be easy to say when we were in love and attempt to throw their affection into the past. But she remembers his lips on her's as he took her arm, the way he told her than he wished their love could endure this, that he would never forget her. It's one wound after another to her heart, but Lavellan doesn't bend at each one -- she stands straight, walking side by side, as proud as he.

"I should hope that you have no more plans to lie to me," she says, waving her hand and purposefully missing the point. But she can't avoid it forever, and it's several seconds later that Lavellan speaks again. "Rest assured, Solas, I hadn't thought they would." That would be impossible. They were different people now than they were then, and yet the more she spends around him the more she remembers the depths of her feelings, how much she'd loved him. Still did.

This was to be her curse, then. To attempt to kill him, or be killed by him; Lavellan's no fool -- she knows how this will end.

He wished there love could be more. That he could simply come to terms with what he had done. The damage the Veil had done was great already and he couldn't allow it to remain. Young and hot-headed, the only option he had seen at the time was to lock the Evanuris away and keep their power at bay. That the People needed to be free, a chance to live far from under the brutality of the Evanuris.

It had all crumbled. He hadn't been there to aid in rebuilding, to stop the chaos and panic that quickly spread after the Veil was put up. He slept through it all, too weak to do more than that with his power expended. When he sees her, that sorrow returns to him full force. She would be added to the death toll by his hand before he could be succeeded or she would overcome him to do the same.

"There is no reason to lie now." He would simply refuse to answer what he chose to instead. It was simpler that way than dancing around the truth. "What are you hoping for? Are you seeking to change my mind?"

"I will try and change your mind with every breath I have, until I've no more to spend." He should expect that from her, and she turns to him -- eyes wide and defiant. They know where this will end, how this will end. Someone will have blood on their hands, and Lavellan can only hope it is her's. Solas already has the death of one culture staining his; she'd have him keep from doing it again. Not just for him, but for Thedas.

As for what she's hoping for, Lavellan shrugs. Perhaps the truth would be more convincing than tiptoeing around the matter at hand. "I've missed you, Solas." She says, shoving her hand into a pocket as she walks -- looking away from him and back at the world around them. "It seems you don't have a monopoly on self-sabotage after all." The pain in her chest is worth it just to see him again, just to hear his voice, to talk.

Unsustainable, yes, but for now -- it's been two years, two years and a conversation which took her world from her. And she hates how much she craves even the most basic of conversations with him while knowing she shouldn't.

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