just gotta ignite the light and let it shine

[whattaprick]

Who: Everyone who's stupid enough to show up for this, because legal drinking ages are for people from a different century/planet.
When: Afternoon/Evening, Day 30
Where: Lakeshore
What: Local Carnival workers get wasted and set off fireworks by the lake.
Warnings: Carnival shenanigans, ie. booze, drugs, and people getting set on fire probably. Put any tag-specific warnings in your headers!

So, Wismuth happened.

Lambert's pretty willing to bet a good chunk of the Carnival is pretty happy to act like Wismuth didn't happen, but he also doesn't really care about what sorrows people are drowning or not tonight: he knows he needed this drink, and after he'd slept off the immediate exhaustion that came with running around Wismuth for nearly two weeks with the power of Creation more or less constantly burning through him, he's ready to something, anything to feel like himself again.

Fast-forward to the lakeshore. There's a huge bonfire going, a box of assorted fireworks that's been 'liberated' from wherever the hell engineering keeps their supplies, and probably a crate of wine that's going to disappear sooner rather than later. Anything else, someone's going to have to bring themselves.

[ ooc: This is a mingle log! Bring your own entertainment, food, questionable substances etc. ]

Comments

[dirthena]

That gets a skeptical brow raise before her grin widens. "All the more reason why you should consider it, if you can lure people in without planning." After all, the bonfire, fireworks, and wine had to come from somewhere. But she lets the subject drop -- the wariness with which he examines around her strikes her as vaguely familiar.

"Not that I know of." Said blithely, clearly unconcerned with the fact that he could be if he wanted to. Congratulations, Lambert, you've met one of Cole's biggest enablers. "Besides, it's tradition where I'm from that I make the rounds of any party alone," she jokes. That was more of circumstance than anything else, but she's willing to make light of it all the same.

[whattaprick]

Lambert has not, as yet, quite realized Lavellan is one of Cole's biggest enablers, but it's no doubt only a matter of time. He grimaces at Lavellan's light response -- clearly, the only thing to do is to take the shot glass back from her and take a shot for himself.

That helps, at least, get his mind off things like 'spirits of whatever the fuck that may or may not be hanging around.' "Do you go to a lot of parties, then?"

[dirthena]

"Creators, no," and the exclamation is out before she can help it. There had to be an easier way to train herself out of saying that. "Just two in the last three years, and the most recent was-- much like this, actually." A celebration for a job well done, of doing what they set out to do. A shame that it hadn't lasted, that peaceful calm.

Rather than follow that thought, Lavellan gestures at Lambert and the shot -- if he's willing to share more, she'll gladly have another glass. "What about you? Or is simply accosting strangers with drink more your style, party or not?"

[whattaprick]

"More the second one," Lambert snickers, as he pours out another shot for Lavellan and passes it over. A better person would probably start thinking about cutting her off; Lambert is definitively not that better person.

"I don't get a lot of party invitations. Shocking, I know."

He doesn't usually have alcohol to share and people willing to accept it, either. One of the Carnival's perks is that nobody has any real expectation or concept of what a witcher should and shouldn't be. As far as anyone's concerned, Lambert's changes just mark him as another Carnival veteran ... and that's not a bad thing.

[dirthena]

"You're very good at it." Something Lavellan's grateful for at the moment, and the strength of the drink sets her head spinning slightly. Exactly like the stuff Bull pushed on her, but in this case it took quite a lot less. At least she doesn't feel as if she's going to fall off a stool anytime soon. Or find out more about Lambert's deep sexual attraction to the raw power of dragons.

Ah, well, if he hasn't gotten any, Lavellan should at least say something to make sure he knows he's not missing out. "They're not as fun as the invitations make them sound," she says in a poor attempt to reassure him, grinning. "Everyone wants something from you, and it's much easier to just send someone in your stead who'll smile and nod and say I'll bring your concerns to the attention of the Inquisitor or something similar."

argh, sorry, i thought i replied to this and just realized i hadn't

[whattaprick]

"Had a lot of experience ordering people around like that, have you?" Lambert drawls, but the jibe's meant in good humor -- or drunken humor, which makes a lot of things seem good even when they aren't.

"You mentioned the Inquisition before." While they were talking her down from being a Harbinger, and like Syrlya, it occurs to him he really doesn't know Lavellan at all. "What is that, exactly?"

no worries, it happens to the best of us

[dirthena]

The jibe lands as good humor to her, and waves a hand to dismiss it with a smile. "It was different, with my clan." But she was still in a position of authority, no matter how different it was.

Ah, the Inquisition. Lavellan needs another drink for that, but finds her shot glass empty. "It is, or rather it was, a paramilitary religious organization created by the humans for the purpose of saving the world. I-- don't think it turned out the way everyone was hoping it would, since the person who ended up leading it certainly didn't believe in their Maker, and wasn't human."

[whattaprick]

Para-what religious what now? Lambert looks briefly confused for a moment, then thoughtful, taking a long moment to pause and reflect on what she's said and implied before he answers.

"So, like a cult, then?" That sounds about right, doesn't it? A cult called the Inquisition? "No offense, but you don't look like much of a cultist."