lostcarnival | the terrible horrible no good very bad week

Entry tags:

the terrible horrible no good very bad week

Who: Strange & OPEN!
Where: mostly the carnival, with a Wismuth prompt
When: D17 and onwards
What: Strange has had a run of shitty days/decisions and is coping like a champ (he's sulking)
Warnings: mild drug & alcohol use, Strange's general asshole tendencies

sulking at the training grounds
Over the past few days, Strange learned that the closest thing he could call to an enemy was back and she had poisoned his best friend, found out his other close friend was kidnapped and enthralled, got dunked in a lake, got his emotional support gem stolen, got dunked in the ocean, made a kid cry, discovered he had a fun new phobia of sentient pineapple beasts, got gum in his hair, and received harsh truth bombs from at least two different people. And only half of this is his fault! (Maybe five-eighths. Strange'll fight it if anyone says three quarters.)

To top it all off, apparently the entire universe is in danger of ending and Creation's decided to fix that by giving people fun magical powers but apparently the universe doesn't think he's good enough! Like what the hell, Creation? As if his self-esteem wasn't already weirdly low thanks to the fact that he got beaten up by plants and the previously mentioned harsh truth bombs.

So, Strange is coping with pyromania. At least four of the practice dummies are currently on fire and have been on fire for the past half hour or so. Strange is in the process of casting a spell to set a fifth ablaze. Anybody who remotely approaches the training ground is getting an amazing death glare courtesy of Strange, as well as a grumpy "What?"

sulking part 2
Alternatively, there's an abundance of purple smoke hanging out near the top of one of the game trailers in the gamer's circle. Can smoke sulk? Undecided, but there's certainly something sulky about this smoke. It's definitely lingering around the top of the trailer and not moving in a manner that's reminiscent of sulking.

welcome to the plot
For the most part, Star Guardians need to sleep too. As does Strange But considering that Strange lives a comfortable life as the man with the world's most erratic sleep schedule, his is variable as hell and he's wide awake at around ten pm, when most people should be getting ready for bed. He's wide awake as he bangs on the trailer door of each inhabited trailer, hoping that someone's in.

He doesn't waste any time. Whenever anyone answers their door, Strange bluntly asks, "Did you get those odd powers like what Noa has?"

Fuck it, he knows about pillars, he can still be useful.

wismuth
Staying at the carnival and not getting out of bed just sounds like a really good plan right now. Except Strange is a nightrunner and when you're rooming with the deputy nightrider, you can only wallow in self-pity for so long. Scrying can only do so much so he's hitting the pavement. As he walks the streets (wearing a slightly ridiculous baseball cap), Strange keeps his senses open for any sort of magic: guardian, harbinger, fae. He's already gotten his ass whooped twice, any sort of large spikes of harbinger magic he is staying the hell away from. But it's the smaller things, the after effects that he can at least try to dispel.

And so, that's why Strange is standing next to an ATM that's currently spitting out cash, muttering something while debating if he's actually got to put his mouth on that thing or not. Thankfully, the machine sputters to a stop and the spell breaks before Strange has to actually kiss the box.

"I don't even know what this is," he complains, to anyone listening. Foggy modern AU memories can only go so far and did not extend to ATMs. But look at him go, stopping the horrible...money spitter outer machine. Greatest magician of the age, everyone.

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Strange is already leaning towards Lambert, getting ready for smooches when nope, okay, not going to happen. He takes a few steps back, trying to look as innocent and 'why surely I wasn't going to kiss you' as he can muster (it doesn't really work.)

"I thought you'd at least want out of that ridiculous outfit—which, by the way, has some concealing properties. Nobody's looking at you."

Having picked up a looney tunes reputation in Venice, Strange is entirely aware of that 'what the hell is this person doing' sort of look that the eccentrics, the madmen, and then men in sparkly booty shorts get on a regular basis. Nobody's given Lambert that look. Hell, nobody's even paid attention to Lambert to begin with.

"You're from a time not so far from mine," Strange responds, as if it's obvious as hell. "Even the upper crust should have a faint idea of the difference between classes."

In Strange's mind, that answers Tyki's question then and there. Tyki's a smart guy and Strange is pretty certain the entire social order didn't upset itself in the fifty or so years in between their times. Or, at least, the entire social order didn't upset it enough to the point where rich guys suddenly stopped being assholes to the less fortunate.

"And, if I may point out the obvious, he's enthralled. The Void wants to end all of Creation. I suspect it's latching onto any small annoyance it can find in order to magically convince the Harbingers to serve it's interests."

"We have our own obligations and it is just as easy to fall but not in the way they do should they happen to disappoint their Lord or Lady. You're right. I am aware of what the differences are. It's a sizable gap," he replies with a nod of his head.

He's different from his family and others in a way that he does understand even his "Memory" played a part in that. High society was a disease that corrupted many and far. He hated it even though he played a part in it. He wasn't an Earl like the head of his household but he was still handed everything if he asked for it. Spoiled, pampered, rich. His blood brother was a prime example of that cruelty.

He wants to say he understands out loud that he knows what it is like to be on the other side of all this mess. It doesn't take much and to end a world one has to have a heavy hold regardless. In the end he just bites his tongue. He's staring at his hand again for a very long while to the point there is awkward silence between them until Tyki simply pipes up again, "At least you don't smell horrible. Fruity even."

Well. If Strange says it's okay...

Peridot downs the next half of the bottle in the blink of an eye. She hiccups.

"Nyeh-heh-heh. Heh. Yeah. Humans are idiots," she snickers, head swaying unsteadily. "With your measly lifespans and you... your..." What's another thing that humans do. Um. "Your... waste excretions."

Strange should be defending humanity against Peridot. But he doesn't want to and that takes effort and honestly, he just kind of wants to lean against her tail and not move right now. The ceiling's cool, he can stare at that instead.

"And we get hurt all the damn time!" Strange briefly complains, with a sigh. "It's ridiculous. I should just get it over with and ask the Ringmaster to turn me all into mirrors."

Strange is perfectly content to hang out in silence with Tyki. It's obvious he too has a lot to think about and is mulling over various things that happened during the past few days. It's Tyki's statement that brings him out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?" Oh, right, he does still smell like a produce section exploded on him, doesn't he. Thanks for that, Steven. Strange sighs, as if this is the world's worst inconvenience, before he starts up another round of light complaining. "I've tried to scrub most of it off, but the damn juice is so sticky. I suppose I'll have to take another shower sometime later."

...All... Mirrors...

"Nuh-- Oh my stars,"

Peridot looks floored, for reasons that will soon become clear. Strange, you just blew her mind.

"Hey! Hey." She puts a hefty paw on Strange's shoulder and shoves him lightly, trying to make sure she has his attention, because she has an extremely important question to ask. "What do you think-- Listen. What do you think would happen... if you were all mirrors, and you tried to teleport yourself through your own mirrors?"

He had Childermass in his grasp with his hand firmly around his throat and yet he couldn't push himself to do anything about it. Not to mention his words left a bitter taste in his mouth that he just wanted to sulk about for a while.

"I'm not willing to touch you head to toe right now otherwise I'd offer to assist you in removing it." He doesn't really have to move as he glances down towards the dummy and it explodes into splitters at his mere touch. He lands on the soft ground on top of it and gestures with one hand, "I imagine it is from the rampart produce wandering around or maybe it is the dozen of other grocery stores, corner stores and farmer markets they managed to invade. Those Harbingers couldn't find better targets."

Cause it is time for his bitterness and complaining to shine, "Do you know how many orders I had set up week one that have been canceled due to the lack of produce, product, and supplies? Now I have to go out of my way to find someone else to con." Tyki didn't mind putting in the work. He just hated doing extra work.

Hinawa is just as taken aback by his response. For her, magic leads to nothing but trouble. But for someone like Strange?

"I suppose," She muses. "If you're already used to magic it's different, but I didn't even know magic existed until I came here. I'm fine enough without it. And if I had powers like the Guardians, then I'd have to fight with them, wouldn't I?"

...holy shit his mind is blown. Strange just gets this dopey expression on his face because he's never really considered teleporting himself through his mirrors before.

"That sounds amazing. The problem's always been size, my current patches are too small for someone like you or me to travel through. But if the mirrors were larger or I had someone tinier..."

Though hey. Wait. They're in a cabin with two small animals. As inspiration hits, Strange groggily pushes himself off of Peridot's tail to look over at Pumpkin and make certain the gourd's still there.

"Well, the produce is caused by Steven," Strange adds in, as if that explains everything—and at least in his mind, he does. "I can barely imagine him causing chaos to begin with. I suspect he's trying his best."

Strange's tone of voice is slightly patronizing. Truth be told, he's still a bit bitter about sentient pineapples and the fact that Steven's vines really did a number on his legs. But if he hides it through complaining and gossip, Tyki would probably not call him out on it.

"I'm sure you can find a way to turn this fruit debacle into something useful. Think of the opportunity! No one's going to notice you slipping out of the grocery store with a bottle of wine or two if there's produce causing havoc." Shit, maybe he should go back to one of the attacked grocery stores and steal some booze. That's kind of a good idea.

"Well, yes," Strange admits. However, he doesn't seem to see anything wrong with the idea of fighting someone or stopping the Harbingers or anything of that nature. It's simply what happened and what one does.

"Still, at least with the Guardian powers there seems to be some instinctual awareness of what to do. Otherwise, Wismuth would most likely be in flames."

A bit hyperbolic? Perhaps. But also, look at all the people they've got as Guardians to begin with!

"Trying his best," he repeats dryly. It's a good thing he wasn't taking offense on a personal level to everyone playing dress up, proclaiming to want to end the world, and then messing around in a manner that seemed counterproductive. Tyki would admit that he himself was in that line of business to 'mess around' and 'have fun' on top of pledging his allegiance to the Earl but they pushed towards their goal. He's no stradegist but that just made him feel like they were stalling.

And no doubt the other concert had already been announced by now. It was do or die at this point. "They are all 'trying their best'. Even you would make a better Harbinger, I'm sure." Though Childermass had it down pat. He had the weapons, the class, the bite of his words and a way to tear down brutal defense.

"I've already taken the liberty of acquiring the alcoholic stock that was on my list and stolen a few other things on top of that. I've been herding Zangetsu around to steal a few other things. I am a conman. I could steal with my hands but where is the fun in that." Unless you're drunk and carting things off but that'll happen later. "Besides, even animated the crabapples didn't taste all that different."

He knows Tyki means it as a compliment. But an uncertain frown passes over Strange's face as Tyki mentions he'd be a good Harbinger. Been there, done that, don't really want to do it again. "I know how I act while enthralled," he explains, with a little frown. "At the end of our stay in Portland, I was in Nightshade's thrall. I know just how effective I would be and I never want to be that effective again."

It's all said in a matter of fact tone. Strange never wants to get into a mental place where the attempted murder of his friends could come to him so easily as it did when he was enthralled.

He's still in a bit of that mental funk as Tyki continues talking, explaining what he's been up to and what he's been stealing. It's easier to steal things when there's mass chaos than it is to talk someone out of something. "I'm sure you'll think of something," Strange concedes, with a little shrug. Thieving isn't his strong suit! Everybody knows that! "After all, there's a few odd things about the Harbingers and Guardians. Sometimes it's like people won't even notice them."

He knows Strange understands Tyki's words for what they were and he won't allow it to get out of hand with over the top flattery. He didn't exactly want to see just how rough Strange can get. He enjoyed the arrogance and the way Strange was for who he was and not some thrall out to destroy everything. "Neither do I ever want to be under someone else's influence but my own nor to see you that way." Nightshade wasn't allowed to have him.

He's reminded then of Childermass' words about things being 'allowed'. He had no choice in the carnival and it infuriated him.

"I've noticed that. At the concert, around others, within a situation that was loud and noisy."

And though he doesn't say it, Strange knows Tyki can empathize somewhat. After all, he was under the Prince's control. They both know what it's like to be stuck under the thumb of someone else. He gives Tyki a little nod of acknowledgement: they both know it sucks, no need to further belabor the point there.

Besides, talking about the Guardians is a good distraction. Strange didn't attend the concert himself, so any input Tyki has would be greatly appreciated.

"What was the concert like? With all the chaos of people vanishing and Nightshade appearing, I don't think I ever asked anyone about the set-up and CY-Ren's attack itself."

There's people here that have been brainwashed on more than one occasion and while it doesn't scare him, it does unnerve him at just how much lack of control he actually has in the carnival.

His hand slips into his pocket and he pulls out photos he managed to take. They aren't impressive as much as he just didn't want to have to describe their outfits later. Not to mention it was a lot of a lightshow from the both of them. He approaches Strange with them held out, careful not to get blood on them.

"It was like a symphony hall but outside and at least five times bigger. There were venues everywhere but she seemed to be the most anticipated. Once she started singing, the crowd started swaying along with her. I felt a need to get up from my seat, even my body had moved forward towards the edge, and move towards her with a lulled yet necessary haste. It didn't last long, at least not for me, but others around me didn't even seem to notice the chaos around them. Some of ours started wandering towards the stage. There were a few that I managed to stop and a couple I put distance with into the parking lot.

Zangetsu and I started firing on the stage at least towards her person. After one shot we noticed a barrier and directed our attention towards it instead of the stage itself because by then some of our own were upon it. These creatures began to emerge from the crowd and those lost in her song didn't even notice.

I left only for a short while to evacuate a few people but when I returned she had started singing another song. Noa arrived, her barrier came down likely from her attack upon it, and they fought after a... transformation on both their parts."

Edited (it doesn't want to capitalize Strange's name) 2018-02-23 15:29 (UTC)

As Tyki offers the photos, Strange looks them over, flipping through them with a small frown on his face. So, the...enthralling? The mental manipulation powers of CY-Ren were enough that she could convince an entire stadium to ignore the chaos. That's worrying.

Strange can't help but look a little confused at the fact that Tyki fired on the stage to begin with. Isn't that a little dangerous? If there hadn't been a barrier, who knows what sort of damage might have occurred. Still, he keeps his worries to himself as he listens, offering Tyki the photos back after he finished looking through them.

Though, transformation? "Did they get those ridiculous outfits as well? The, erm, sparkly ones."

She's not fae, or at least Noa never really made the idea that she was, but she was still able to ensnare anyone she wanted at any time. The efforts they could expend seem to be almost pointless if she could just take back her Harbingers again. If Noa hadn't intervened he considers just how many more she could have taken. As useless as she had been during the entire encounter she at least managed to get her to change songs.

"Yes. Noa was already in her attire in pretty whites and gold." His free hand raises to his chest and he draws outwards as if to show Strange the exact way he saw it, "CY-Ren reached into her chest and pulled out a violin bow and then proceeded to almost cut herself down the middle. What miasma spilled out of her wrapped around her body and she transformed herself. It's then that CY-Ren began to sing again and Noa started dancing."

Every time he has to explain this it sounds more ridiculous than the last, "For every musical and magic blow towards Noa that CY-Ren gave she danced to maintain her own end. Unfortunately our little Star Guardian was not up to the task and faltered just enough for CY-Ren to knock her with a blast onto the stage. Then the music just stopped, the Void creatures disappeared along with our own, sparkles and all."

Tyki's explanation does sound ridiculous. It sounds so ridiculous that Strange can't help but smile slightly, a bit of a grin creeping on his face. Dancing versus music? It's...well, it's kind of dumb. And that's cheering Strange up more than he wants to admit.

"CY-Ren has music, Noa has dancing, Childermass has his cards, Steven his fruit, and Lambert has a motorcycle. Aside from the fruit, I'd say they were all weaponized hobbies!" Of course, Lambert hadn't ridden a motorcycle since Portland but Strange thinks he enjoyed it then. Maybe. The details are fuzzy.

The more Tyki describes all this, the more Strange's sulky mood vanishes. After all, it was all a bit ridiculous, wasn't it? Fighting someone with dance moves or wearing sparkly clothes. And Lord knows neither Childermass nor Lambert would retain their dignity after this event. At least the two of them escaped without as many embarrassing memories as everyone else would inevitably have.

"If you had the Guardian powers, what sort of silly hobby do you think you'd attack with?"

He wondered at one point if he was dreaming or he had never woken up from a nightmare. A lot of what happened in this carnival was just ridiculous but this was really the icing on the cake. What's next? They are all going to turn into talking or stuffed animals?!

"What's a motorcycle?" he asks in a completely serious tone. "I was going to say that someone should take up knitting but I've seen strings."

Strange always had a way of distracting him enough where he could focus on something else. His own bitter and sulking mood is lifting from the almost mocking conversation. It's with a slight smirk that he avoids the words 'murder, mayhem, and destruction' himself. "Napping, fishing, or gambling." Because Tyki didn't have many hobbies other than napping, fishing, eating, and reading. He could ride a horse but that was a rarity on his end.

"Since I'm a writer, I suppose mine would be writing. You'd attack people by throwing dice at their face and I'd try and stab them with a pencil!"

Strange can't help it: he badly restrains a giggle. The mental image of the two of them chucking dice or pencils at one of the Harbinger's faces is just too much to take seriously. What an amazingly stupid image, and one that he's just going to linger on for a moment or two.

"Anyway, a motorcycle is a cross between a car and a bicycle. It's got the relative shape and form of a bicycle, but it runs on gasoline and can be driven on it's own like a car can. The next time I'm in Wismuth, I'll take a picture of it for you!"

"I would hope mine would be a little more interesting than just throwing dice or I might resort to my own magic and abilities," he says with a hint of amusement. He's sure Strange would get a kick out of stabbing someone with a pencil.

He could imagine the flabbergasted Harbinger's expression at dice and pencil used as weapons. Some of these Star Guardians and Harbingers were more ridiculous than a kids bed time story.

He's trying to imagine a motorcycle but all he's really getting is a bicycle with four wheels and a metal casing, "What's the point of it if one can just drive a car?" Not that he's had much success in that. He's crashed two and taken one car apart already.

"They'd be giant dice," Strange clarifies, with a little smirk on his face.

But back to the motorcycle. How exactly to describe it? Because though Strange knows what it looks like, he hasn't ever ridden a motorcycle himself. He's just seen them before. Ergo, time for baseless speculation.

"Well, they're smaller than cars so you could get into tighter spaces. And since there isn't a covering like there is with cars, you could feel the wind against your skin." Strange shrugs! That sounds like a good enough explanation for him!

"And maybe your pencil would be akin to a dagger or sword. That is, if you can wield a sword," he replies with that ridiculous thought. He could imagine more creative means like a gambling system with the dice or his cards depicting the flow of battle. He'd miss a good brawl if he had to just stand back and range a fight. "One of my Tease would end up my 'familiar' just to make it worse."

He never got to see just how many people could ride a horse in the manor and knowing what a car looks like now, he himself had missed that rush of wind and rolled down the window just to feel it.

"More pleasure than convenience then," he says with little thought to how many people could actually fit on it. He's imagining just one.

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the terrible horrible no good very bad week

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