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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

...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.

Peridot, utterly oblivious to the potential danger that Pumpkin is in, shakes her head in a wobbly fashion.

"Not someone tinier, I'm asking what would happen if YOU did it? What would happen, how... How would that even WORK? Think about it, you need the mirror to teleport but if you teleport through it... then there's no mirror left to teleport through!"

Veeeeeery slowly, Strange gets to his feet and starts walking over towards Pumpkin. It's less of a walk and more of an amazingly stoned shuffle because Strange is amazingly stoned at the moment.

"It'd still work, though. I use the mirrors as a doorway, to go from one point to another. After I've gone through the first point, it doesn't matter what happens to it."

But even if the first point comes with him...then he'd have both points at the same place? Would it just be a loop or something like that? What the fuuuuuck, this is blowing his mind.

Pumpkin, perhaps sensing that something is amiss, sits up a little bit and wags her vine tail anxiously, making an inquisitive noise at Strange. What's up, Magic Man? You look a little bit off! It's freaking her out a little bit!

Peridot, on the other hand, is very insistent on pursuing this line of conversation further, and keeps slurring at him as he shuffles away from her. "No. No. Listen: If you use the mirrors as a doorway, and YOU are the mirror-- Then YOU are the doorway. So how can you go through yourself?" she babbles. "I'm jusss saying, it's a natural contradiction of logic! It's--" she breaks off into a fit of her awful, nasally goblin laughter. "It's a PERIdox, Strange. A peridox. Do you get it?"

Edited 2018-02-26 19:18 (UTC)

Strange stops moving for a second as he listens to Peridot. Whoa. He's the doorway? That's so deep. His mind just gets blown even further as he thinks about the mirrors back home and how they served as doorways to faerie and holy shit, did that mean he could be a doorway to faerie as well, what the hell, man, this is freaking him out.

He just kind of stares off into the distance for a moment, contemplating the nature of mirrors and doors before Peridot's pun hits. Oh. A peridox. Heh, that's pretty good. It's a very delayed giggle, but Strange does giggle a bit at that.

"Do you have any of that ale left?" he asks, in between puffs on the joint. "Or any water around? I want to try something but I need another reflection."

Strange has apparently forgotten the fact that Peridot has a sink.

The sink would not be much use to him anyway, seeing as it appears to be full to the brim with absolutely nothing. But. Glitter. The whole entire damn thing. The faucet on the sink works, presumably, but running it would almost certainly end in a soggy, sparkly disaster.

The dragon picks up the ale bottle and squints at it blearily. She stares at it for a bit too long, having forgotten what the heck she's supposed to be doing with it in the span of time between her grabbing the bottle and lifting it up to eye level.

"Unnnnnnnnnnnnn... There'zabout... An amount. This amount. Left," Peridot says vaguely, once she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. "Why? Whadd're you gonna do with it?"

"Pour some on the floor," Strange remarks, as he starts walking towards Pumpkin. "I'm going to do magic."

This is a bit worrying, especially since Strange's eyes are literally glimmering with excitement. As he approaches the gourd-dog, Strange starts making kissy noises as he bends down to try and pick up Pumpkin. Coooome on, little vegetable thing. It's just magic, it's not going to hurt.

Yeah Pumpkin's no fool. She takes one look at that expression on Strange's face, lets out a terrified whine, and jumps off the chair to scamper off and go hide... Ssssomewhere else in the trailer. Fleshy, however, remains right where she is, utterly unfazed. She blinks at the magician innocently.

"I'm not going to pour it on the floor," Peridot protests. "And you can't do magic on Pumpkin! She's... She's..."

Abruptly, her face falls dramatically. She's the only thing Peridot has left of home, now that everyone else is missing.

Oh god this is teetering on becoming sad again--

Dammit Pumpkin, stop being smart. Strange turns his glance from the gourd, over towards Fleshy instead.

....that'll do. Awkwardly, he reaches over to pick up Fleshy while still trying to comfort Peridot all the while. Because in his attempt to awkwardly pick up the weird flesh creature thing, Strange caught a glimpse of Peridot's crestfallen expression.

"I'm not going to do magic on Pumpkin," Strange grumbles. Granted, he's not going to do magic on Pumpkin because he can't reach Pumpkin but still counts. "But I will need some kind of reflection in the trailer just for ease. Come onnn," he whines slightly, looking back over to Peridot. "You like magic. I know everything's horrible and Creation's an ass, but we're magicians! Shouldn't magicianing make things feel a bit better?"

That is not a word.

Fleshy's expression doesn't even change a lick as she's picked up. She just blinks at Strange again with those much too large bright blue eyes of hers, and then lifts one of her weird three-fingered hands and plaps it softly on his face.

Peridot stares at him for a lengthy moment, her eyes welling up with big, ridiculous dragon tears. She looks extremely torn, but in the end, relents.

"Fiiiiine," she creaks slowly, sniffling; she drops her head flat down onto the trailer floor, still clutching the ale bottle in one paw. Everything she says is taking twice as long as she would usually take to say it, like each word is a massive effort. "Just find something to pour this in, so I can still drink it afterwards." SNFFFFFFFF. "You're not going to do something mean to Fleshy, are you?"

Edited 2018-02-28 01:24 (UTC)

As Fleshy places her hand on his face, Strange looks over at her. There's something that looks like it could be a bonding moment but is actually Strange's brain short-circuiting a bit because there's an alien? With her hand on his face? Whhhhhat the hell is he supposed to do about this?

But Peridot wants him to get something to pour the booze in so score! He's gonna do some magic. Very slowly, Strange shuffles towards the kitchen: he's gonna get a bowl. "Of course I won't do anything mean! I'm not a mean person!" says the man who's routinely kind of awful to the rest of the Steven Universe cast.

Strange takes a puff of the joint, contemplates offering it to Fleshy, but then decides against it. Here's hoping that Peridot actually has a bowl in her kitchen somewhere because Strange is straight up rifling through her stuff.

Fleshy puts her other hand on the other side of Strange's face, and then proceeds to very very gently grip his cheeks while gurgling softly. They are best friends now.

"You do mean things ALL THE TIME," Peridot says loudly, still talking from the floor.

There are no usable bowls immediately visible in this trailer, but Strange will find a random frisbee on the counter, and that will just have to do.

Frisbee it is. He shifts everything around slightly: the joint gets held between his teeth, one hand holds Fleshy, the other hand holds the frisbee. And so, Strange starts to make his way back to Peridot, seemingly unconcerned that Fleshy's gripping onto his cheeks.

"No I don't," Strange lamely rebuts, through gritted teeth, as he sets the frisbee down on the floor. The joint goes back in the other hand so Strange can actually talk now. "When—" And then there's a pause as Strange frowns, thinks, remembers something, then decides that no, what he's remembering isn't mean because he's not mean to begin with. That pause lasts long enough to almost be awkward before Strange finishes his question. "When was I mean? It must not have been for a while so it obviously doesn't count."

Peridot finally lifts her head again to stare blearily at him through squinted eyes. You'd swear referencing her own memories was causing her physical pain, the way she looks right now. "YOU CAN'T just expect me to pull up a bunch of examples off the top of my head just like that," she complains, slurring her words a bit, volume fluctuating. "But trust me. You do. You say mean things."

She pauses, almost slugs back the rest of the bottle of ale before remembering that, right, they're supposed to be using that for magic, and then puts it back down with an annoyed grunt. "Don't take that the wrong way. I say mean things all the time too. Doesn't mean we're bad people. I mean, look at us! We're both AWESOME!"

Strange looks back at Fleshy for a moment. They share a look (which is kind of creepy as Strange isn't blinking) before Strange decides that yeah. Peridot's right. She's right both at the 'you say mean things' bit and the 'it doesn't matter anyway' bit. Damn, Peridot's smart.

"You're right," he says, as he offers Peridot the frisbee. "We shouldn't care that we're mean or that we're not nice people. We're amazing anyway."

This is 100% the wrong lesson to take from this. Strange awkwardly starts unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt, just so he can get better access to one of his mirrors: a large portion on his right shoulder that looks like it would cover a gunshot wound and a bit of the skin around it.

"Wait. What?" Peridot says dumbly, trying to parse out what Strange just said despite being completely hammered. She feels like he kind of maybe missed the point a little bit there? But hell if she can figure out how to express that.

Seeing Strange ostensibly start stripping in the middle of her trailer distracts her from that train of thought anyway. "WOAH! Woah," she interrupts, thumping her tail on the floor. "What is this. Why is such a large portion of your human anatomy in such a state?"

Strange pauses for a moment. Wait, what exactly is she fussing at? Veeery slowly, he looks down at his shoulder, then looks over at Fleshy, then looks over at Peridot. This goes on for about thirty seconds before the penny drops and Strange figures out what Peridot's shrieking about.

...

ohhhhh, she's worried about his shoulder. Well, that's awfully sweet of her! "I got shot," Strange explains, as if that answers all her questions and solves every problem. There we go! He explained it! Good job, Strange! "Can you pour the alcohol in the frisbee now?"

"Shot," she repeats, not quite comprehending. Her brow is furrowed with concentration. "When did you get shot? And by who?"

This she inquires, while sloppily pouring the remaining ale into the frisbee.

"It was in the Matrix," Strange grumbles. "And it was by...by Childermass."

Now it's Strange's turn to have his expression crumble. Right. The Matrix. Another time when Childermass was taken over by something terrible and Strange couldn't do a thing to save him. Childermass had done so much for him here and yet whenever there was a time that Childermass was in danger, Strange couldn't do anything to save him. Some friend he was.

Sadly staring off into space, Strange places a few fingertips on top of his mirror-covered bullet scar and starts murmuring something under his breath.

Hoo boy. She may not have insight into Strange's thoughts, but Peridot sure can relate to that exact sentiment! Especially where their ill-fated trip to the Matrix is concerned!

"...Steven got shot there too," she slurrs, sllloooooowly sinking back down towards the floor again. Her expression is also falling once more. "Not by anyone we knew, but, he got shot! And I was standing right there, and I couldn't stop it. Can you believe that? I had all kinds of INCREDIBLE powers thanks to that simulation, but I still couldn't do anything. To stop my friend. From getting hurt. Kind of like this situation that's happening right now! BUT, at least, HE didn't shoot ME. That's just embarrassing."

At least she can take comfort in the idea that Strange's life sucks more than hers does.

As Strange finishes casting the spell, he looks over at Fleshy. "Touch that mirrored spot, please." Fleshy stares at him for a moment before he sloooowly reaches out a hand and touches the mirrored spot on Strange's shoulder. Almost instantly, Flesh vanishes from Strange's arms to reappear sitting in the ale-filled frisbee.

And really, Strange should be pumped by this. He used his own mirrors as an actual mirror! That's cool! Look at that amazing magic! But he's still thinking about the Matrix and about how he couldn't really do anything but watch as Childermass shot him.

"We need to be better at this," Strange sluggishly complains. He slowly crawls down to the floor as well, intent on using Peridot as a pillow again. "I mean, I'm the greatest magician of the age. And you worked under a diamond! We need to just...find a way to make people not get hurt."

Which even he knows is downright impossible.

While Strange is making his way over, Peridot whines something about Fleshy ruining the ale by sitting in it. No way is she going to drink that now! Jeez. Fleshy gets up from the frisbee and clambers on top of Peridot's back, trailing ale onto her scales. Peridot doesn't really react.

"Ha. Hahahahahaha," she laughs hollowly at Strange's comment. "Every gem works under a Diamond," she groans, still staring at the frisbee. "That doesn't make me special. That makes me nothing."

There's a long pause, and then the loud, unattractive SNIIFFFFFF of someone failing to hold back tears. "No wonder I didn't get chosen. I'm NOTHING. I'm a NOBODY. I can do all these great things but it's just like I suspected from the start! Life doesn't care about your actions!"

Okay, so he didn't have as good a grasp of gem hiearchy as he thought. It might be hard to think right now but Strange knows that he should comfort Peridot. Right. He can do this. Just say nice things and don't be a dirtbag.

Since she's still a bigass dragon, he leans over towards her and very awkwardly pats her on the tail. "Peridot," Strange simply says. "Look...look at me in the eyes."

And if she does or doesn't he's just going to keep on giving a terrible pep talk. It's a bit slow and stumbly but it's certainly a pep talk. "You are not a nobody. You're the Engineer! You're smart and good at building those machines and you're certainly more brave than some of the other carnival members. You're amazing and you're important and Creation is stupid."

Peridot stops sniveling long enough to listen and stare at Strange with huge, watery eyes. That's... Literally the nicest thing that he has ever said to her? What the heck. She sniffs loudly, trying to compose herself enough to respond. "Wow... Thanks," she gurgles after a long moment, not in the least bit sarcastic. "You know, you are an extremely impressive and important person yourself. And yeah, Creation IS stupid, and it made a GRAVE MISTAKE, by not picking either of us!"

She slams her dragon fist down for punctuation, and hits the edge of the frisbee, flinging the ale contained within all over her own chest. She does not react to this blunder even a little bit.

There we go. She's not crying. Strange is going to consider this a victory. Strange gives Peridot a loopy smile of his own before slumping back down against her, practically cuddling up to dragon Peridot at this point...though he will vehemently deny any trace of cuddles when he's sober.

As such, some of the ale sloshes on him as well. Strange just kind of awkwardly blinks the alcohol out of his eyes (which isn't burning like it would most people. Thanks mirrors!) but doesn't react to the blunder either. That would involve moving and effort and honestly, he kinda doesn't want to do either of those right now.

"We'd have solved the problem already," Strange continues, in a matter of fact tone. "You'd use your magic Creation powers to build...build a large jail and I'd use my magic Creation powers to shove a Harbinger in the large jail. Steven and Childermass wouldn't be able to do anything against it."

the terrible horrible no good very bad week

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