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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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?"

"No," Lambert answers with a shrug and a sharp-fanged smile. "But I'd say it suits you better than being a servant. Sailors like their freedom." A pause, before he turns that smile on Strange too, with the air of a private joke at both of the magician's expenses. That, or the ambrosia's starting to kick in properly.

"Though maybe magicians like their freedom best of all." And he twirls a finger in the air. "Come on, Strange put on his gift. You could at least wear the hat."

Its probably the only time he will before it's consigned to a shadowy corner of his trailer, upon which Lambert will make it his mission to dig it up again and again.

At Lambert's little joke, Strange frowns. What exactly does he mean by that? Surely he can't be that drunk already? "You may think we like our freedom, but I don't mind being tied down." And at that point, Strange deliberately moves his hand towards Lambert so he gets a glimpse of that wedding ring right next to the punch ring.

Magicians like their freedom? Perhaps. But Strange likes being married more than anything else.

However, the conversation has shifted to teasing Childermass and honestly, Strange is fine with that. "At least give us one memory of you in that thing before we never see it again."

"It'll have to wait," Childermass replies, which he's sure is immensely disappointing, but too bad, suckers. "I haven't drunk anywhere near enough to put that monstrosity on just yet."

And with that in mind, he'll take a drink from his mug. Not a big one, mind, because Strange had warned him before about just how easy this damn ambrosia goes down and even a small taste of it tells him just how true that is. It's almost too tempting to finish what little he poured in and reach for more, if only for the warming effect.

Speaking of which, he wrinkles his nose somewhat at that and looks down into the mug, as if looking at the drink will somehow reveal any mysteries.

"Spoilsport," Lambert says, sighing and making a show of looking put-upon. "Get drunk faster, then, or you're not going to appreciate these either." And with that, he nudges the two paper bags across the table, one for each of them, grin turning distinctly wicked.

The gifts don't require any complicated unwrapping, just opening the bag and peeking inside. For Strange, there's a shirt folded on top of a gray sweater with "ASK ME ABOUT THE PENINSULA" lavishly embroidered in dark purple thread on it. Touching it, it's easy to feel a thicker shape under the fabric; when the hem is flipped up, it reveals a felt appliqué of the peninsula (clearly imitated from one of Strange's strategy books, embroidery marking the topography and all) sewn on the inside. The effect is basically like one of the children's shirts at the caravan, which is probably where Lambert got the idea in the first place.

Childermass's gift is no less ridiculous, though the shirt is at least in a color he's more likely to wear. The sweater under that, however, is not. It's a deep wine red, against which Strange's drawing of Baker from before he evolved has been embroidered in bright, metallic threads the color of the dog's fur. A black bird -- it could be a raven or crow -- flutters over it, outlined in silver thread to stand out against the dark sweater, and the shifting light gives it the illusion of movement.

At the very least, the material the sweaters are made out of is soft and warm to the touch, and the quality of the embroidery makes it pretty obvious it isn't Lambert's work -- but it doesn't change the fact that, well, he spent money (even if it technically wasn't even his own money) on some incredibly silly clothes.

Get drunk faster, don't mind if he does. Strange takes a large swig of his ambrosia, almost draining the glass, before he takes the bag from Lambert to look inside. And hot damn does he feel a bit called out on both of those shirts.

"Well, you've got me figured out," he teases. Strange takes the shirts out one at a time, showing Childermass and Lambert each of them, before Strange leans over to see what ridiculousness the other man's gotten.

When Strange looks over at Childermass's sweater, his face just goes pale for a moment before he quickly tries to regain his composure. Because yep, he recognizes that artwork, that is 100% an attempt at drawing a Growlithe from one of his notes. Strange isn't sure what he's more horrified by: the fact that it's on a sweater or the fact that Lambert actually kept that drawing in the first place. Oh God, and somebody else had to have seen that drawing, there's no way Lambert is talented or patient enough to do this embroidery himself.

Strange sure as shit isn't going to tell Childermass that the drawing's his terrible handiwork though. Instead, he busies himself by taking off his coat and slipping on that peninsula sweater over his button-up shirt, waistcoat and cravat. He is 100% going to wear this dumb thing for the rest of them getting drunk. He also looks stupid as hell at the moment but doesn't really seem to care.

"This is actually comfortable," Strange admits, surprised by the fact that Lambert thought of things like 'basic comfort' in his attempt at giving his friends grief via clothing.

'Get drunk faster', what an awful order to give, but he'll make the effort. For the holiday, if for nothing else, and hope that no one with one of those ridiculous cameras is around to document him in a bloody stupid pirate hat.

That, however, will have to wait until after the shirts. He can't help but give an amused huff at Strange's before taking his own out of the bag Lambert shoved his way. He takes them out one at a time, as well, though he doesn't waste much time showing them off rather than shaking them out to read them himself. The belief that he'd need to be drunk to find these funny turns out to be entirely false because the first one earns itself a quieter chuckle, but the second one? A full out laugh.

"What is that?" Oh, no, he knows. He can tell that's meant to be a growlithe. "An orange potato?" And since he's assuming the bird is a raven (for his own sake and everyone else's), he chuckles some more and folds it up again, along with the other shirt. "If I ever needed a standard to fly, I think I would give them this to base it off of."

"Of course it's comfortable! What's that supposed to mean?" Lambert leans over to punch Strange in the shoulder and scowls, but it's only to avoid looking too pleased or looking too long at Childermass when he laughs out loud like that. But there's no hiding the pleasure in his voice as he responds, grinning wide and cheeks flushed.

"They did a pretty good job, considering what they had to work with." With that, he's digging into a pocket, coming up with a folded-up piece of paper scribbled over with his stiff, blocky handwriting. He brandishes it at both magicians with a flourish, then begins to unfold it to reveal the scratchy pencil original in all its spiky, lead pencil glory.

Strange gives Lambert a shithead smirk as he takes that punch in the shoulder. It's teasing, that's what it is. Him giving Lambert shit about the sweater because Lambert is definitely giving him shit by getting the sweater in the the first place. Besides, he can take it. Though that smirk quickly fades as he sees Lambert pull a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

A lot of the notes on the paper are in Lambert's handwriting but there's a few near the drawing itself that are in a different handwriting entirely. The problem here is that those notes are unmistakably in Strange's handwriting. It doesn't take a genius to realize that if the notes are Strange's, the potato dog drawing might be Strange's as well and really, he doesn't particularly like the idea of enduring another round of teasing about his inability to draw.

"I'll take that," he interjects as he reaches over, trying to snatch the original from Lambert's hands.

Any other time, Childermass wouldn't be involved in fighting over a piece of paper, but since Strange inexplicitly upset over it, well. Well, well, if they're out here to have fun, he may as well get his digs in at the other magician while it's open season.

Strange goes for the paper and so does Childermass, dropping his sweater to lurch forward out of his seat and make a grab of his own.

If it had only been Strange, Lambert could have played a comfortable game of keep-away and had a good laugh, but he isn't expecting Childermass of all people to lunge for the paper as well. The sudden movement out of his peripheral vision makes him instinctively dodge sideways to move away from it ... except he's been happily drinking, he's sitting down, and his mind is anywhere but a fight.

While this means neither magician gets the paper just by grabbing for it, it also means Lambert clumsily topples backwards, landing on the floor with a thump that startles a yelp out of him. The impact is enough to make him let the drawing go, and the paper spins through the air, drifting with a lazy disregard for the chaos it's caused.

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