lostcarnival | ⇨ THE LUNAR SOLSTICE

Entry tags:

⇨ 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?"

Let's be real, this is Strange. He probably would have bought it anyway if they called it 'will fuck you up weed.'

Strange leans in slightly, as if going to tell Lambert a secret. All his movements are slightly slow and sluggish, as if moving too fast would cause him to fall over or something like that. He's also not getting up from his place on the couch, just trying to lean over without falling over. It's moderately successful.

"It's lilac," he whispers under his breath, before devolving into a fit of giggles. "Everything here's so purple! This is lovely, you know?" He's got a big ol'dopey stoner smile as he looks up at Lambert.

That's not too different from normal -- Strange is always slow and sluggish, as far as Lambert's perspective goes -- but he just shakes his head at Strange, snorting. As funny as it is to see him slightly loopy, it loses some of the luster when he thinks about how annoying it is he can't just cut loose and enjoy getting high, too.

"You've been all about purple these days," he observes out loud. "Don't turn into smoke and get mixed up with the weed. Last thing we need is to get anyone high breathing you."

Edited 2017-12-14 15:57 (UTC)

"You'd be poisoned if you breathed me in," Strange remarks, as if he's pointing out the obvious. Because he would. Even Lambert with his odd witcher...witcherness might have a hard time surviving a face full of poison smoke. Maybe. Strange isn't so sure (and doesn't really want to try).

He sways forward slightly before just falling to the side, head landing on Lambert's shoulder. This is somehow the funniest thing in the world and Strange gets another fit of the giggles. This is also unfortunately the time when the weed starts to make Strange's magic go a bit haywire. Without him realizing it, the temperature in the room starts to slowly creep up.

"What if," pause while he readjusts his head so he's not speaking directly into Lambert's shoulder, "What if I turned to smoke and then in turning back, I absorbed some of the smoke from the cannabis? Would that make me really high?"

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

"With your luck? You'd be more likely to become weed. Then we'd have a whole set of other problems," Lambert answers matter of factly, not really thinking about it. Fortunately for Strange, he manages not to catch himself on a horn thunking down on Lambert like that, and the witcher's shoulder is well-padded.

Said padding is also the reason Lambert doesn't immediately catch onto the rising temperature... though his medallion catches on to the use of magic readily enough. He frowns, looking down at the top of Strange's head, and nudges him in the side.

"No magic while you're on drugs. You have a hard enough time keeping things subtle when you're sober as it is."

...holy shit, he could turn into weed in the first place?! Strange just gawps for a moment, remaining silent, as his mind thinks of all sorts of things he could do if he was turned into weed. That would be so friggen cool. But, it also would be so much trouble. How many fae would want to enthrall him if he was weed? A powerful magician was bait enough, but a powerful magician who also was drugs? No thank you.

Unfortunately for Lambert, Strange doesn't realize he's doing magic. The temperature stabilizes at something that's a little bit uncomfortably hot. He's still leaning on Lambert's shoulder, though Strange tilts his head slightly to get a better view of Lambert's chest.

"I'm perfectly subtle," Strange remarks, blinking sluggishly. "And why no magic? You know how powerful I am, a little thing like a high won't change anything. I could even remove those needles from your heart if you wished."

Because obviously Lambert has needles in his heart. They seem as clear as day to Strange! Though, the needles themselves are odd. Sometimes they seem like regular sewing needles but occasionally, if he tilts his head in a different direction, they look more like pine needles.

"You are powerful. Too powerful. That's the point," Lambert snorts. "Don't blow off the top of the cabin unless you're also volunteering to put it back or move all my shit to a new one."

Crap, that sounds like a challenge. Hopefully, Strange doesn't take it that way. The bit about the needles in his heart has him frowning and glancing down at ... nothing, obviously. The temperature is significantly harder to miss -- less sensitive to heat Lambert may be these days, he's sensitive to chill, and the sudden lack of it makes his ears prick up, swiveling warily.

"I think I'd notice if I had needles stuck in me, Strange," he says finally. "Why are you warming it up in here?"

"I'm not warming anything up," Strange responds, as if it's obvious. The temperature remains consistently hot as Strange slowly moves his head off of Lambert to get a better look at his chest. He thinks he'd notice the needles, how ridiculous. It's probably one of those things only visible when one is impaired, like faeries were back home.

"You say you'd notice but you wouldn't. The candle in your head, the needles in your heart...I think I will remove them. Not the candle, of course, but the needles. After all, I am too powerful."

Now (mostly) upright, Strange takes another drag from the joint. A moment later, he places his hands in front of him like he's about to do magic.

"Trust me, you're warming things up," Lambert grunts. The rest of it -- candles in heads, needles in hearts -- is easily ignored as more mad rambling, at least until Strange starts moving his hands around.

"Hey," Lambert says sharply, twisting around to grab Strange's wrists ... one of them, anyway. Their current positions make it a bit hard to grab both. "What did I just say? No magic!"

Normally he'd be all for it, but normally his decision making would be just a sign impaired as Strange's. Being the sober friend is distressing. Lambert wonders if this is what it feels like to be Childermass all the time.

Strange gives Lambert a big, dopey grin, not really caring that he's got a grip on his wrist. Wavering slightly he points a very dramatic finger at Lambert's chest. There's a small pause before Strange continues with, "Abracadabra!"

Nothing happens, this is just Strange being an ass and making Lambert worry a bit. This is apparently absolutely hilarious to Strange because he breaks down into a fit of giggles that lasts a good thirty seconds. Once that giggle fit is finished, however, Strange doesn't really do anything. Instead, he leans against the back of the couch, staring seemingly off into nothing but in reality, staring at the shade of purple that he thinks everything is. It's going a bit pinkish and Strange desperately wants to watch.

At least Lambert's getting a bit of quiet to change the conversation as he wishes before another round of bullshit starts up again.

As soon as Lambert realizes he's just being fucked with, he narrows his eyes and lets Strange go, shoving him back to titter to himself on the couch. This is his just reward for offering to babysit, he mentally grumbles. See if he ever volunteers to chaperone Strange through his drug trips again (he probably will, because against all odds, he's actually attached to this idiot).

"Is this just something you do all the time, back home?" he asks on a sigh. Strange has certainly referenced imbibing questionable substances enough that it seems likely. "I thought England was supposed to be pretty uptight. No laws against drugging yourself up seems like an oversight."

Even in Temeria, there were rules. No peddling fisstech on the streets. Never stopped people from buying it, of course, but it wasn't just something you could buy from a caravan, and everything he's heard about England suggests Strange's current state of mind wouldn't exactly be looked on with approval.

The idea of him getting high, taking drugs, being this version of himself in England is enough to make Strange grin like a madman. What an attack on the respectability of English magic! What an affront on everything Norrell was trying to make magic become! It's a grand idea until Strange realizes that no, it really isn't.

"I did this in Venice," Strange answers, the most coherently he's been in this entire conversation. "After I thought Arabella dead, I wanted to make myself mad in order to see a faerie and entreat one to bring her back. I tried powders and potions and plants until I found the secret to real madness."

And that right there explains so much. No, this isn't something he did all the time back home. This was just the actions of a desperate man, willing to try anything and break himself in new and exciting ways to bring his wife back from the dead. Strange slumps to the side again, staring off at nothing. He attempts to rest his head on Lambert's shoulder but just misses entirely and plop, there goes his head, right in Lambert's lap. This is hilarious and Strange badly represses a giggle. Though, he thinks he knows what Lambert's next question will be so, through the giggles, Strange continues.

"I didn't have anyone to stop me in Venice. And if I did, I'm not sure if they even would."

Edited 2017-12-21 03:44 (UTC)

It's a sad, quiet sort of admission, one that even keeps Lambert from rolling his eyes as they once again get to Strange's favorite topic -- his wife. However, Lambert can't help wincing as Strange's head lands in his lap, because even under layers of kimono and cloth, guess what? He's literally rock-hard, and he hopes the stupid giggle isn't a symptom of a concussion and shakes his head.

"People do the stupidest things for love," he tells Strange. Brave and admirable in their own way, yes, but mostly? Mostly stupid. He sounds more fond than excoriating for a change, so that ought to be a pleasant surprise. There are few constants in the world, but Strange being an absolute idiot for Arabella is one of them.

"Besides, what do you mean there was nobody to stop you? You had to have some friends to save you from yourself." Strange can't have been as much of a friendless loser as Lambert was. Magicians seemed, if not particularly rooted in reality, at least more popular than witchers and even Lambert had someone who'd mark his absence.

Strange rolls over to look at Lambert. He's not moving his head from the other man's lap, not because it's particularly comfy (spoilers: it isn't!) but because he feels like his head is full of rocks and if he tries to move it, all the rocks will fall out. Which obviously isn't good, though Strange isn't entirely sure why it's not good.

"I had some friends eventually." There was Flora. Wonderful Flora, who didn't abandon him even after he was cursed, who he trusted to play her part perfectly and she did. But she only showed up later, after he was already on the road to ruin. "But not in the beginning. I was a fugitive surrounded by vile rumors who fled to the continenet. What few friends I had wouldn't dare associate with me."

Surprise, turns out he was just as much a friendless loser as Lambert was. It's all said in a bit of a matter of fact tone as Strange blinks rapidly, trying to see if that'll turn the shade of pink he sees everything as back to that lovely purple it was earlier.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject