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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"You do have the option of not drinking the half designed for stronger sorts, you do realize," Childermass will carry on admonishing the poor lightweight of an Englishman, even as he accepts his own mug of wine and takes a drink. Whatever the two are pretending to be innocent about isn't any of his business, even if he does pick up on them both being completely full of shit over, what? Faerie ale?

At the very least, thanks to being the one who got Strange hammered in the first place, Lambert probably also considerately held his hair out of the way. While laughing at him, because he's a jerk.

"Or you could learn to pace yourself instead of knocking it all back at once," he'll add onto what Childermass says, because it's apparently ganging up on Strange time. But he won't let Strange pout too long, having spotted the presents he's added to the pile. He picks up his own drink, though he isn't going to knock it back just yet...

"Guess it doesn't matter, either way. We are on vacation." He smirks at the very idea of it. Witchers on vacation, hah... if Vesemir could see him now, he'd probably have a conniption.

When the hell has Strange ever paced himself? And when the hell has Strange ever not tasted something slightly potent that's put in front of him? He gives the other two a look of disbelief, a look that's plainly 'you two should know me better than to suggest something dumb like that.'

But yes, back to vacation. He takes a much larger drink of the wine as the expression of disbelief shifts to a smile.

"It's going to be damned annoying having to start up work again when we're finished with vacation. Especially since I'm the only one of us here with a regular job!"

Come to think of it, what do the Acquisitioner and Nightrider do when there's nothing to be stolen or fought? Strange is just now realizing that he doesn't have the slightest clue.

They can always hope for a more sensible Strange someday, one day, perhaps very far in the future. Today isn't that day, though, so. Oh well. Childermass just shrugs at the look of disbelief, then gives the other magician an unbelieving look of his own.

"What? You think I'll be kicking my feet up? Without a Treasurer? No. I'll be doing inventory," he states it outright and it's probably as dull as the word itself sounds. "Our latest trinket will hardly be the norm for me."

'Trinket', as if the word can eve be applied to the Blue Rose, but they're amongst other multiversal travelers. Even if they may be allies of the Ringmaster, he doesn't doubt they have a keen eye for profitable artifacts all on their own. They don't need any extra tips from him.

"But if you'd rather count how many potatoes we need to pick up before moving on while I take the stage again, by all means, let us trade off for the week."

Edited 2017-12-14 03:10 (UTC)

Lambert isn't even going to bother with looks of disbelief or skeptical glances -- he just straight up laughs, like Strange claiming he has a regular job is the funniest thing he's heard all night.

"You spend part of the time showing off and the rest of it spying on other people or breaking in through their mirrors," he teases, grinning at Strange around the edge of his mug. "Seems to me like your 'job' is just doing what you always do anyway."

At the mention of spying on other people, Strange gives Lambert and Childermass a smile that's entirely too innocent and therefore suspicious as hell. Why yes, he does spy on other people, some of which include these two losers who've been spending an awfully suspicious amount of time together lately.

"You forget, Childermass, but the other part of my job is to be ordered around by this idiot over here," Strange teases, that innocent look quickly replaced by a smirk as he gestures towards Lambert. "You can certainly handle being a magician, but what about a mercenary as well?"

Childermass can definitely handle it, even Strange knows that much. But might as well get some digging in at Lambert while he has the opportunity.

He won't react to that suspect look of innocence (because absolutely nothing is innocent about Jonathan Strange and we all know it), though he does have to wonder at it, if only to himself. Childermass imagines that means he's been spying on them, but just what has he seen? Well, that's bloody annoying, not knowing...

"I had enough jobs before ever being hired on at Hurtfew Abbey that I am sure enough I could handle most jobs in the carnival, mercenary included," is what he does say, focusing on that instead. Still, he shrugs with it. "Although you may not be too happy with me as a cook."

Or a nurse, but that one he would admit falls outside his experiences.

Lambert's a bit too busy snickering in his cup still, glancing around the room, to notice the look on Strange's face -- though it's debatable if the witcher would be all that concerned even if he took notice. Besides, he only ends up snorting at the magician's loftiness.

"You're not actually very good at being ordered around, either," he points out, lazily. Not an insult, just basic facts! Having finished his drink by now, he'll hold off on pouring himself more of the wine, flicking his fingers at Strange instead.

"Gimme some of that ambrosia, if you've got it with you."

As Childermass mentions his jobs outside Hurtfew, Strange gives him a little frown. Logically, Childermass must have been employed before meeting Norrell. But Strange honestly has no idea what sort of employment would suit Childermass. Perhaps he was like Strange himself, idly drifting from job to job until he found the right one.

Though he can't really fight Lambert's statement. Strange gives Lambert a little nod of his head as if to say 'point taken.' Thankfully, the conversation turns to alcohol and not a list of Strange's faults. "Of course I have it with me," Strange replies, as he reaches for the bottle he brought. "We are going to have drinks, after all."

The alcohol has an odd effect, triggering the brain's pleasure centers and causing one to feel like they're basking in sunlight or near a warm fire. It also goes down smoothly, without that much of a kick, which means that it's far too easy for someone to get hammered off of the stuff without realizing it.

And that, as a matter of fact, is what Strange is banking on. Uncorking the lid, he pours Lambert a generous amount of the ambrosia. A moment or so later, he knocks back the rest of his wine like he's taking a shot. That frees up the mug for ambrosia for him as well, though Strange is going to try to deliberately take his slowly.

Logically, yes, Childermass had a life before Norrell. Hard to imagine, though, isn't it?

"We already are having drinks," he points out, though unlike the other two, he will be taking his time with the wine in his mug. Sure, he left the anti-toxin necklace at home to even the playing field, but that doesn't mean he's going to drink like an idiot. They don't even have food yet and they're getting into the ambrosia? Really?

Well, the silver lining is he probably just needs to dump them through a shadow to get their drunk asses back to their cabins after this. Still...

"It would be useless to tell you to pace yourselves, wouldn't it?"

Predictably, Lambert takes a big gulp of the ambrosia, though the effects are immediate, the warmth that hits making him laugh against his cup while he reaches up to start undoing the fastenings of his coat.

"If you'd said it warms you up, I would have said yes to it sooner," he scolds Strange. Because that's the fastest way to get Lambert to drink anything. Nonetheless, he won't quaff the rest, just raises his glass at the other two, smirking.

"None of us are dead, we just cured a condition the Ringmaster's magic couldn't, and I'm about to laugh my ass off at my two favorite people at the Carnival. If that's not worth celebrating, I don't know what is."

Strange smiles a funny little smile as Lambert calls the magicians his two favorite people. He already knew that Lambert considered Strange to be a close friend, that much was a given. But it's nice to hear Lambert actually vocalize those feelings about Childermass. After all, that idiot needs someone not from England to befriend and those sleepovers were probably secret for a reason.

With a little nod at Lambert, and then one at Childermass, Strange raises his glass in a mock toast. "To magic, friendship, and the joy of being alive."

And after a brief moment to see if either of the two will join in on the toast, Strange takes a small drink from his glass.

Whereas Childermass just shakes his head and drinks is wine in response to Lambert and his two favorite people, though he won't disagree. If he had to choose who to go out drinking with, these two would be at the top of the list. So when Strange raises his glass in a toast, well, of course, he'll raise his own mug and follow suit.

"To not being dead is a toast I am always on board with," he adds in his own vaguely joking manner.

Where his companions are reserved about their drinks, Lambert drinks of his cup, generously. On the one hand, he's simply reveling in being able to get drunk at all; on the other, if he can knock himself out, the chances of troubled dreams waking him are lower, so he doesn't actually have any objections to getting hammered if that's Strange's intent. He's been getting the magician drunk more than once now, so it wouldn't even be unjustified.

Which means he gets to the bottom of his mug, and the bottom of the fastenings of his coat, all too quick. Shrugging out of it, he leaves it folded beside him on the bench and grins at the other two.

"So, did either of you get a present from the Ringmaster too?"

Now this he's interested in. If the Ringmaster managed to give him something that fit him so well, then she probably gave Lambert and Childermass something that also fit them so well...and mister nosy over here wants to know what.

"I did," Strange remarks, with a little nod. "Though I'm afraid I'll have to keep my present a secret for the time being."

Mostly because one member of this group still has some compunctions with regards to binding spells. Childermass will find out about the creepy contract quill eventually. That much is a given. But Strange occasionally has some nuance and some concept of 'let's not sour the mood.' Nothing would ruin the party quicker than Strange gushing about blood magic and magical contracts.

"What about you two?"

"A secret?"

That is like the worst thing to say about a gift from the Ringmaster, meaning Childermass is immediately suspicious. He frowns at Strange from over the rim of his mug and has to fight down the urge to inquire further, fight it down so hard. They're out here to enjoy their weird little moon holiday. Getting into an argument over Strange, of all people, keeping secrets would just ruin that.

And god, he does not want to have another fight with either him or Lambert at this point. So, he lets it go, immediately moving on to finishing out his wine and setting his mug down. He'll at least offer an amused little smile once he's done that, though mostly it's because he finds his own answer funny.

"She left me a box full of paper and ink."

Also iron, but guess what you don't talk about out in the open, surrounded by people with a deadly iron allergy? That's right, having iron. He supposes he can't be mad at Strange for keeping his own a secret after all, if it's anything like that.

Edited 2017-12-17 06:01 (UTC)

Lambert's snort says exactly what he thinks about Strange's pronouncement, loudly. The bigger surprise, though, is that Childermass doesn't press the matter further, which gets a half a beat of consideration from the witcher before he chuckles and reaches for the bottle to fill his mug again.

"If you're not going to show me yours, I'm not showing you mine," he grins, knowing that's going to drive Jonathan "I must know everything" Strange a bit crazy, but he'll at least follow Childermass's example of something dreadfully vague.

"She gave me a ring."

This was him being considerate by not mentioning his gift and this is how he's treated in return?! Nobody telling him anything?! Strange is a little bit put out and can't help but sulk for a moment as Lambert and Childermass give their vague answers, as if it's somehow their fault that they can't see what a considerate person he's being right now.

"Well fine then, mine's a quill." He'll admit that much. It's only fair that dreadfully vague and dreadfully vague gets returned with something equally vague. "And since we've all decided to be secretive about our gifts from the Ringmaster, why not go ahead and start opening things we can't be secretive about?" Like presents. Those presents. Staring him in the face.

This is partly Strange's curiosity burning up but this is also the excitement that one gets when they know they've picked out a good gift. Strange has a lot of faith in the gift he and Lambert picked out for Childermass and the gifts Strange picked out himself for the two men.

Edited 2017-12-17 06:27 (UTC)

Childermass gives an amused snort, reiterating, "I don't see why you're upset. Mine really is a box of papers and inks."

Because that's the truth. It isn't the whole truth, sure, but he could easily show them the exact box with the exact papers and exact inks stowed away in them if they cared to push for it. Strange is quick to move on from his little snit, though, and so Childermass just shrugs and looks over what packages dumped on the table between Lambert and the other magician.

He'll gesture towards the smaller one, the one he and Lambert picked out.

"There, give that to him already. It should cheer him up, at the very least."

And on cue, Lambert grins, passing it over to Strange with a grand flourish.

"Here you go, from us. Since I've given up on ever teaching you to throw a decent punch, we got you something that'll do all the work for you."

Inside the box, set on a small cushion, is one of the punch rings from the caravan. Odds are poor Strange will use it properly, but let Lambert dream. He nudges the ostentatious, showy hatbox over to Strange with a grin that's starting to turn just a bit soused around the edges.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

Strange can't help but roll his eyes slightly at Childermass's teasing. Once he has the box, however, Strange opens it and takes the ring out, looking it over in the light. He will certainly not use this properly. In fact, he has no idea what the ring can do or how it involves punching things in the first place. But Strange knows one thing for certain: this ring is magic. And that's enough for him to think it's a wonderful present. He slips the ring on the middle finger of his left hand, where it sits comfortably next to his wedding ring.

He matches Lambert's grin with one of his own, as he looks between Lambert and Childermass with a bright smile. "Thank you." And he means it. Strange looks back at the ring for a moment, distracted, before Lambert mentions the other presents. Oh, right, those. And hey, he might as well distribute the ones he brought as well.

"This is from both of us," Strange remarks, as he passes the extravagantly wrapped box over to Childermass, "so open that one first. The other two small items are for you as well, but those are from me—and I've something else that I plan on giving you, but I'm still working on it." Inside the showy hatbox is a swashbuckler outfit, in a relatively understated gray and black. The book shaped present and one of the smaller ones still sit on the table as Strange reaches for the second small present he brought and gives it to Lambert.

"As for you, this is from me." And inside that box is a dragon necklace. The metal feels cool to the touch, almost supernaturally so, and the gemstone in the middle is a deep green emerald that sparkles with the light hits it.

The way the box was wrapped was reason alone to be wary of it, but what's inside? Well, at least the colors aren't offensive, but really? He pulls out the hat first and foremost, great feather and all, and gives it the most suspect of looks.

"I didn't realize I looked like a pirate captain," Childermass says after a brief moment of consideration and a slight noise of amusement, "Even if I have served on a ship."

For the book-shaped gift, he'll get to that later, turning to look at what Strange has given Lambert instead before finally noting, out loud, "Your presents are back at the cabin, seeing how no one thought to mention this part to me."

Someday, Strange is going to accidentally hit someone with a fist after charging up that ring all day, and that someone's probably going to be someone he doesn't mean to hit.

"Thanks, Strange. You really know how to make a guy feel special." Lambert visibly brightens when he gets his necklace -- though it's not something he'll ever wear, if only because he's wearing so much damn shit already, there's no disguising the brief, greedy glint in his eye before he's snapping the box shut. Some people at the table have a habit of stealing his shit, after all, and the less Childermass registers there's something new and shiny to get into, so much the better. He's yet to steal back his jewelry from the other supervisor, though it's a good reminder he ought to get to that soon.

Childermass's comments, however, make him smirk. "It's not like I told Strange, either." The man's just presumptuous and showy, that's all, and fond of assuming things. But more importantly-- "A sailor? You?" He rakes his gaze up and down the magician critically, like he can't quite picture Childermass standing on the deck of a ship. It's a profession that generally involves getting soaked on a regular basis -- imagining him doing that in the heavy coat that was his usual wear until Lambert tore it up is a funnier mental image than it should be.

Edited 2017-12-19 05:36 (UTC)

"It was the most understated thing we could find," Strange interjects at Childermass's statement, with a little shrug. Surprising no one, the market had tastes that ran towards the extravagant and ridiculous. Still, that slight noise of amusement from Childermass and bright smile from Lambert are enough to brighten Strange's spirits, as he gives the other men a smile of his own.

Though, at Lambert's comment, Strange can't help but smile a wry smile, a sort of 'I know something you don't' kind of smile. Because he certainly didn't tell Strange about the gift exchange. But when one's running late to begin with, might as well scry and see what's up and bring the presents anyway.

He takes a sip of his alcohol but remains quiet as Lambert questions Childermass's backstory...mostly because this is something Strange wants to hear also. Oh, he's certain Childermass is just going to ignore Lambert's comment and not say anything for now, but there's a chance he might take him up on it.

Childermass just rolls his eyes at that smile. Of course, Strange cheats with scrying again, but whatever. In any case, presents or no, he takes a moment to reach across the table for the bottle of ambrosia and pour himself a sensible amount (which is to say, very little) before deigning to even acknowledge Lambert's question.

"Yes, me, a sailor," he answers plainly, setting the bottle aside again and looking over, raising his eyebrows at the witcher. "What did you think I did before working for a magician? Lurk in a corner somewhere, waiting for Mr. Norrell to appear in my life?"

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