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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"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.

"I'd probably have my daemon again," Strange muses, putting his hand to his chin in thought. He can't really think of any other animals that would fit him. The Pokemon he spent the most time with in Alola were ghosts and while Strange desperately wishes his hypothetical familiar would be a raven, a part of him already knows that it wouldn't be. No, his familiar would most likely be the huge, floppy, ridiculous seal that he had in Greysol.

"Though I imagine she'd be smaller. None of these 'familiars' I've seen have been larger than a housecat and those that were originally larger have shrunk in size as well. A four hundred pound seal simply wouldn't do!"

Though there's another amusing mental image: one of the Guardians getting led on by a talking horse or a talking elephant, but actual size. It'd be downright ridiculous! Just as ridiculous as a tiny, cat-sized talking seal would be.

"Hmm, I forgot about daemons," he says with a hint of regret. He does kind of miss his daemon. Having her near made him feel less homesick for home and family. She was a comfort he could lean against and feel at peace. Yet the panther would be kitten sized no doubt and he hates it, "She would be far too cute for my liking. Morticia was gorgeous as much as she was powerful."

He's trying not to imagine a seal swimming around Strange's head but it's there now implanted in his forethought, "Knowing Guardians your tiny daemon would be surrounded by bubbles and sparkles."

The more he thinks about it the more he's kind of glad he didn't get chosen for either side especially the sparkly one.

"I wouldn't mind it," Strange admits, with a shrug. "It was damned awkward to try and get Siobhan through buildings half the time. Something smaller would be best for ease of transportation."

While his daemon could swim through the air at times, the fact remains that seals are not the most graceful creatures on land. If Strange was going to be saving the day in sparkly outfits, all the better to have someone who can actually get around with him.

"Besides, seals aren't necessarily gorgeous." They're kind of awkward looking. "I can settle for 'cute.'"

"I don't know where I would fit Morticia either. She could at least make an impressive appearance in one of my performances. As convenient as tiny would be it would take away from who she is. Yours might actually look better smaller."

Cute would suit Siobhan. Morticia would likely claw someone calling them 'cute'. It's hard not to imagine a seal swimming around Strange while he attacks or transforms. It's then he realizes how much he doesn't want to see Strange transform.

"All I can suggest is if another Harbinger appears and you do get picked as a last minute entry please pick an attire that is worth looking at," because while he hasn't seen Lambert's yet he has seen others.

Strange, who has seen Lambert's sparkly hot pants, heavily agrees. "The same goes for you, Mister Mykk. I don't know if the Guardians have any control over the outfit they pick or if it's all subconscious nonsense...but either answer leaves a lot to be explained."

It either means that people choose these deliberately ridiculous outfits (which Strange doubts) or people's subconscious throws them in feathers, glitter, sparkles, and high heels. Okay subconscious, you do you.

"If the glitter is required, then I think I could pull it off better than most. I already sparkle when the light hits me a certain way, why not add to that?" Strange has mirror eyes and does not own a pair of sunglasses. The likelihood that Tyki's been around him when his eyes reflect the sun in an odd way is pretty high.

He does admit he's had some curiosity about some of the more discrete modern wear given how much he can flaunt his appearance and get away with it. Plus, blending in allowed him to sample the local populace as a whole more intimately.

"I do so hope that it is not choice for some of the people here. Some of it is almost unnecessary," he replies with a dry tone. Unlike a few in his family, he would prefer if his heels stayed as high as they were and not any higher.

That causes Tyki to laugh and not in a mocking way, "Hahaha, maybe you're the secret weapon Creation needs all along. Harbingers can't attack if they are blinded! It would require you to sacrifice a little more of your dignity though."

"I'm afraid I've sacrificed most of my dignity simply by being me." Strange knows that he's a giant trainwreck and is working on embracing the fact that he's a giant trainwreck. After all, maybe then people will stop judging him about chickens or setting things on fire or other things that were complete accidents okay, he is trying his hardest.

"It's my modesty that I'd be worried about! I haven't any mirrors on my legs, so those shall thankfully remain covered, but I've some on my chest and back. I doubt Creation would want me to run around shirtless, so I'd have to make do."

Nobody wants him to run around shirtless, including Strange himself.

"Just being you? No, that can't be true," he says in an overly sarcastic tone. He's affectionately teasing as usual now that his spirits are partially lifted again. At least they can't just shove Strange aside. Despite the massive trainwreck the results do have sometimes good outcomes.

"I don't know. I sat in on a couple of those movies and if we are going for a more modern feel you might be required to take your shirt off at least once. Depends on far Creation is willing to go."

Leave the shirtless advantages to those that don't have to follow this 'respectable magic' rule.

"If those movies were anything like some of the books on the moon I read, I'd need to be a dashing romantic hero before I take my shirt off. And as I am neither dashing, nor romanceable, I think we're safe."

Strange reaches up to run a hand through his hair. As he does so, he very deliberately shows Tyki his wedding ring. Which granted, Tyki knew that already, most of the carnival knew Strange was married. But still, it's a good quick reminder.

"You just need a decent clean up," he says with no really backing to it this time around, "But you are off the market and that wouldn't do well for those willing to fawn over you." His makes a face as Strange runs his hand through his hair. There's something in it and he'll reach out to touch him without really asking for permission. His hand passes right through Strange's hair, power activated, and all he really retrieves is bits of gum here and there, "A proper hair cut perhaps as well."

If he was more vain than he already was he might not understand how someone like Strange got someone like Arabella. He just knows there is far more to this man than he usually seems. There had to be something about him she liked.

As Tyki reaches over to touch his hair, Strange's expression is pure 'what the hell'. This is a little too close for comfort, buddy! At least tell him what you're doing next time!

"I thought I had gotten all of that out," Strange complains, with a little sigh. Still, he deliberately takes a few steps away from Tyki. To no one's surprise, it turns out that someone running their fingers through your hair when you least expect it isn't a good feeling. Strange likes Tyki but they aren't that close.

"Anyway, my hair's fine. I trim it myself every now and then. I wouldn't want to confuse anyone in one of these worlds if the glamor wore off." While Strange's hair is still very humanlike, the gray in it has turned reflective. He's got no idea if the Ringmaster's glamor extends to things like fingernail or hair trimmings, but Strange doesn't want to find out.

Had it been something more invasive, such as reaching inside of his body, he would have said something. It'll be a cold day in hell the moment Tyki stops invading people's personal space whenever he feels like it. He's not as arrogant as Strange to think he's entitled to do what he wants with other people's bodies but it's a thing.

"I don't even want to know what this is," he says with mild disdain as it drops through his fingers onto the ground. His gaze does flick down at Strange stepping away and thankfully he's good enough at reading body language to get the message not to close the gap again.

He trims it himself? That says a few things. "I can't afford to make a mistake should I try to do it myself. I am the frontal image of my family and the head of our household is an Earl." His hand waves a little in momentary indecision, "Star Guardian wise, I don't think Creation would care if it decided to redo your look."

"It's not that hard," Strange explains, with a little shrug. At least, it's not that hard to someone who doesn't really care about his personal appearance like Strange does. His hair's perpetually a bit too long and a bit too shaggy. As long as it's mostly even and doesn't tickle his neck too much, he can deal with any mistakes.

"Besides, if you want to learn, no better time than now! We're at a magical carnival. Ask around and I'm sure someone's got a hair tonic or a spell to make things grow or something of that sort."

"Maybe after the boys have learned some manners," he says casually when referring to his tentacles. Tyki's too lazy to pick up too many spells at once unless something interests him. "Besides, Miss Doll cut my hair the last time I had an issue." And he did love to delegate his tedious tasks onto others. Unlike Strange's hair Tyki's extended down his back to about his shoulder blades with a mess of elegant curls.

"If I learn any spell willing it'll be something useful or convenient. Probably not fire or turning anyone into chickens~"

"Chickens is just applied transmutation," Strange explains, with a little shrug. He's owning that, ain't no shame, Tyki knows there's all sorts of other impressive magic Strange can perform that isn't turning people into chickens (and how many people in the carnival could turn others into chickens in the first place, that's right, nobody, suck it carnival members.)

"I can turn other people into other things that aren't poultry. It's just the turning back part that I have trouble with."

He's chuckling under his breath at the way he's presenting this knowledge. Tyki's stepping closer again in his excitement as his entire body leans forwards. His hands are spread wide including his bloody one, "Can you do it easily or is it something you're still working on?"

He does take note of the latter information, "Rabbits, dogs, birds, cats?"

This isn't information that Strange keeps hidden. He's always talked openly about his magic and about what he can do. It's just that he occasionally doesn't remember who he's told what. So sorry Tyki, time to ramble about magic.

"Think of it like running a marathon. I can do it, it just takes time and effort compared to my other magic. I've turned a woman into a cat and a vampire into a bird—though I haven't tried rabbits or dogs yet. Perhaps that will be my next attempt."

He enjoys his passion for magic so he can't exactly complain. Plus, he kind of brought this onto himself. Mentioning magic was akin to mentioning his wife. Strange was just going to talk.

"It's a shame then that you can't just turn all of the Harbingers into little birds for now if it takes that much effort," or maybe something easier to catch. "Carly managed to turn into a hummingbird and I wish I had the thought at the time to grab the nearest object to trap her inside of it."

There's something that falters in Strange's expression as he thinks. "I'm not sure if I could," he admits. "Harbinger magic...there's something powerful in it. You can't learn an entirely new system of magic in a day and yet these people have. If the spell hit, then they'd be out of luck. But there's a period while I'm casting it that they could put up defenses or just toss something at my head."

Strange obviously doesn't want to admit this. And he's obviously a bit uncomfortable doing so. But Tyki's got to know about the lack of viability for that idea, just in case he starts talking it up or it seriously gets floated as a contender.

"That's what I figured. Still, it's a shame." He's no strategist so he's likely not to go to someone higher up and start working out a plan. Tyki worked better as a lackey or someone in charge of a smaller unit. The whole grand plan just seemed out of his reach.

His hands are still out wide as if he's displaying something but that's merely his way of keeping his hands to himself and occupied. His fingers do curl as they count off the moments of indecision. Everything he reveals makes him more vulnerable but Strange is someone he somewhat trusts.

Sometimes.

"But you can. Harbinger magic isn't like yours. It's like mine. Everything I can do I learned the minute I inherited it. I wasn't perfect at it but I understood it. Over time it became easier, more viable, more dangerous if I didn't control it."

Strange can't help but frown a little at that. For someone who's learned his magic, who started off with a simple spell and then worked his way up to reshaping rivers and changing the world itself, knowing everything someone could do the moment they got it seemed a little bit like cheating.

It also seemed a little bit sad. But, he's certain Tyki won't understand that part.

"And yet, fae magic's added onto your magic—with the tentacles, of course. I wonder..." Strange trails off for a moment, briefly lost in thought, before he continues. "I've a feeling we'll do something about the Harbingers soon. After all, CY-Ren's got that concert coming up. But if we didn't, how much would their own magic change the magic of the Void?"

It's a fair trade off in all honesty. Strange started with nothing and yet he had all the potential in the world for anything even without fae magic. Harbingers, Guardians, and Noah like him inherited their power and were limited without the assistance of fae.

While he does like the journey of a good travel and growth, he admits he would prefer the lazy route when it comes to magic. The tentacles have been an ordeal and he does admit he's having some fun with them now that they are less annoying.

"It allows me to grow more than I was limited before. Childermass seemed to have his own abilities along with the new ones he had. But, I suppose the answer to that question would be if they were relying on their own magic or the new one they now have."

the terrible horrible no good very bad week

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