lostcarnival | just gotta ignite the light and let it shine

Entry tags:

just gotta ignite the light and let it shine

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lavellan thinks about this for a moment, but the first words out of her mouth are simply: "What is it with shemlen and only having one god?" Is it a lack of creativity? Not that the Dalish were much better, all things considered, but at least none of the Evanuris had tried to proclaim themselves as the one god above the rest. "Why doesn't this.... 'christ' count as a god if he's the son of one?"

At least her's had the dignity to make sense. Even if it was based on lies.

But more than one at least made sense, although-- "Would that mean that the one she wants to visit is the 'real' one to you?" Or would he just refuse to accept any of them as the real one, rather than face the truth that it could have all been based on lies?

She may or may not have significant baggage over this issue.

"I don't think we're ever going to visit the 'real' hell," Strange admits, with a little frown. "Or, at least, my 'real' hell." Are you ready to get into some metaphysical bullshit, Lavellan, because that's what Strange is about to drop into this conversation as he goes straight off into a nerdy tangent.

"I believe there are different...domains, perhaps? I'm still working on that word. Anyway, there are multiple worlds. That much is shown by the array of people at the carnival and the places we visit. Each world is different from each other. And if each world has a hell, each hell must also be slightly different from the other. We could visit hell upon hell and still never touch foot in the one of my world!"

He's talking with his hands as he does so, gesturing like an excited professor or someone relaying the plot of an intense sporting event. Strange is so wrapped up in talking about hell and the possibility of different realms that he completely misses Lavellan grumbling about monotheism.

She is not ready, but Lavellan weathers it with grace and poise practiced as Inquisitor. Because honestly? That's a lot of conjecture and assumptions. She can see his point, however, and agrees with it in theory. "So every world we visit has a chance of having the afterlife existing alongside it, which we also may visit." Seems... reasonable enough, even if she wonders if that means they could ever enter the Fade itself.

"How does that work with your single god and his son?" Who is apparently... not a god? She's a little confused on that point, but she's willing to go with it. "If every hell is real, doesn't that stand to mean every... god has a chance of being real?" Except for her's, of course.

"Perhaps?" The alcohol causes his tongue to flow freer, and Strange to suggest more ideas. He takes a large swig of his drink before he continues talking, gesturing with his hands as he does so. It's obvious from Strange's entire demeanor that he adores this sort of conversation: nerdy academia talks are the bread and butter of his existence. And in talking with Lavellan like this, shooting off theories and what-ifs, he's having the most fun that he's had in ages.

"But does it really matter? Most people will only stay in one world all their life. This travel from world to world that the carnival does is rare and far between. If every hell is real and every god has a chance of being real, then the likelihood that most people would see more than one hell or one pantheon is slim to none."

"Not every god," Lavellan says, with a certain amount of conviction. Whatever Strange's faith is, she's certainly not going to agree with it -- not even theoretically. His god, she's certain, is no more real than her's were. Which just leaves her with the theoretical discussion.

Which she is more than happy to busy herself with. "I would hate to see the face of someone who ended up in the wrong one," she muses, her amusement plain in her tone. "But it would matter to the believers, would it not? Who believe that there is only theirs, and that no other truth exists. They should know the truth about their faith."

She... may be a little more personally involved in this than she's letting on.

Obviously, Strange doesn't know the full story. But he's getting little hints of it here and there. The way Lavellan stresses the realness of her god, the way this conversation's hanging around this one point, it's becoming more and more apparent that she's got some hang-ups with regards to religion. And Jonathan 'knows the basics but isn't really religious' Strange has absolutely no idea how to help Lavellan through a crisis of faith.

"They should know, I'll grant you that," Strange admits. "But how could one explain this? In my six months at the carnival, I've seen so many unbelievable things, things that I know people in my England would dismiss as the ravings of a madman. How do you expect one to accept the truth about multiple gods if they still have trouble grasping the idea of multiple worlds?"

"Is that not the point of faith, after all? That or perhaps they are not gods at all." Her name is Elera Lavellan and she's here to spread the good word about atheism and damn everyone and anyone she upsets. She'd cross her arms if she had two of them, as is her hand just sort of clutches the opposite side of her chest, oddly.

"They should still know, and be free to make up their mind. If you were mad, well--" Lavellan frowns, before shaking her head. "I should only hope they wouldn't set their dogs after you, and chase you through dreams." That's very specific, Lavellan.

"Truth be told, they mostly left me alone during my period of madness," Strange remarks, with a shrug. Because yep, that was a thing, a thing that he kind of wishes he navigated his life better and with less 'fucking off to Italy to become a grief-stricken hobo' but people make bad decisions occasionally and that was Strange's. And Strange is all too happy to shift the conversation to something a bit different.

"No chasing through dreams, though." And, because he knows she's got to be referencing something specific, he continues with a teasing smile. "Though I did have a fellow magician rudely intrude on what I was dreaming one time."

Oh, right, yes. He made himself mad, didn't he. She'll never understand that part of it, although his response makes her grin. That is something she's familiar with, although it's not quite the same.

"Was he there in person, or was it... more of being capable of watching what you're dreaming? If it's the former, I know someone who might be able to help you get even by teaching you to do the same," she says. Would Solas want to teach Strange? Unlikely, but she can't see why he wouldn't enjoy it eventually -- Solas liked having students, after all.

"He was there in person. And truth be told, I don't think the poor fellow knew what he was doing." But, then again, it was early in Strange's magical career: nobody really knew what they were doing. As such, it'll just be light dragging of the other magician in question.

"I had set myself down to dream of a magician whose spirit haunted the house. I succeeded in contacting her when the other magician, a man named Segundus, accidentally found himself in my dream." Strange shrugs slightly, looking over at Lavellan. "England only had a handful of people with magical talent and, at that point early on in my career, I hadn't met any of them before. I think he was more shocked about the whole thing than I was."

Strange decided to solve the problem by yelling. Everything worked out fine in the end, though.

That is... very interesting, if it's all the same to him. "When mages in my world dream, they visit the Fade," she explains, hoping that the words from their first few conversations would be familiar enough for him to understand. "But only a rare few have the power to control their dreams -- I've experienced it once or twice myself." With the aid of the Anchor and of Solas, but that seems pointless to mention at the moment.

"Well, more than once. A friend of mine takes it upon himself to regularly visit mine these days." Whether she wants it or not. Thanks, Solas. "How did he manage to leave?"

"I yelled at him and I woke up."

For all of Strange blabbering about English magic and how wonderful it is and the strength of English magic and so on and so forth, there are a few times where English magic seems to work according to 'throw something at it and see what sticks.' Still, Strange has absolutely no shame or no regrets for his strategy of yelling. It worked! That's what matters!

"If that friend of yours ever shows up here, I'd like to give them a chat. Obviously my dream magic knowledge is rudimentary at best. So even just talking the theory behind that magic would be appreciated."

"That's it?" She asks, brow raised before she laugh, shaking her head. "If only we could all free ourselves from unwanted visitors that easily." For Lavellan thinks it'd be a little more complicated for her, no matter who decided to drop in. That Strange wants to chat with whoever knows magic similar to his doesn't come as a surprise, so her tone is exceptionally casual as she takes a sip.

"I believe you're familiar with him already. Solas?"

To Strange's credit, he keeps his tone and words relatively level. However, he can't hide the brief scowl of annoyance that flashes over his face as Lavellan mentions Solas. Ugh. That guy. They've only had a few conversations but each conversation ended with Strange getting the distinct impression that Solas was an ass.

Still, if Lavellan liked him, he could keep the commentary relatively positive...he hoped. "We've met. I had no idea Solas's magic focused on dreams. Tell me, what else can he do?"

This is solely for knowledge purposes, not Strange comparing the two and deciding that he's better, certainly nothing like that.

Lavellan can't help but laugh out loud at his expression, grinning. He needn't say anything more -- she can tell from that alone that they've met and exchanged words. Were they aware of how similar they were? Surely they must be if they found themselves at such great odds.

That Strange keeps it polite is much appreciated, and she gestures dismissively. "He is a master of the Fade," she has no qualms about admitting that, knowing that Solas will own up to it without question. "Well versed in magic pertaining to ice and spirits as well." A pause, and then -- because she told Solas she would not lie for him: "If I were to produce a list of the most powerful mages in Thedas, he would be on it."

Sorry bud.

"How interesting," Strange remarks, in a tone that's a little too forced and an expression that's a little too tense. "If I were to produce a list of the most powerful mages in England, I would be on it." And not just because England had less than five magicians for a while! He is powerful and Solas can suck it.

"Though I do wonder," Strange starts. When he speaks, it's in a tone of honest curiosity, despite the fact that his words are a smidge condescending. "How much use would his magic of the Fade be here? Can you access the Fade within the carnival or is that solely restricted to your world?"

For a moment her mouth works silently, and she can't help but grin. "If you are trying to put yourself against Solas, Strange, I'd both advise you that you cannot win and that he does not care." Or at least he wouldn't care so obviously. Whatever competition he wants to have with him is none of her business, however amused the idea makes her. And not because she thinks poorly of Strange, but just the idea that anyone could wish to test themselves against Solas is hilarious. There is just no good way to tell Strange he's trying to take on a mage so powerful that the elves of old who used magic as easy as breathing thought he was a god.

His question makes her pause, and she shrugs. "I can access magic here, and I dream. Those two things would indicate that even if the Fade isn't here, I still have a connection to it. I can only imagine it's the same for him." Perhaps more, considering.

Strange matches Lavellan's grin with a cocky one of his own. He cannot win? Oh that's all the more incentive for him to try. He doesn't know what sort of competition this will take on or what sort of rivalry this might further spawn between him and Solas. But Lavellan saying that Solas is more powerful is catnip for Strange to prove her wrong.

"We shall see," Strange simply responds, while visions of showing up Solas start dancing in his head. But not now. They're talking magic right now, any sort of plans for a 'fuck you' to Solas will happen later.

"Though I did not know dreaming was tied to the Fade that much. And yet, my world does not have the Fade and I still dream. Any ideas on that?" It's asked in an inquisitive tone, nothing challenging or provoking. Strange is honestly curious to hear Lavellan's answer.

"When you decide to try, please let me know." Because she'd love to see Strange take on Solas, if only because she can't believe Solas would care. And the result would at least be entertaining, if something she might have to do damage control on. Nothing she hasn't had experience in before.

She pauses for a moment, thinking about it. "I'm not sure. You were talking about each world having an associated realm -- perhaps the Fade is much like that for Thedas, and yet being here and interacting with others isn't enough to sever us from it completely."

"Considering your world's magic, that would make sense." Strange has no idea if Solas could still do the dreamer magic he did back home in the carnival, but if he can? Then that's definite points to there being some trace of the Fade here.

"I wonder...if mages from your world are still tied to the Fade, then that connection exists here. Could mages like myself use that to find a way to connect to the Fade?"

It is an intriguing idea. And one that Strange isn't entirely sure can happen in the first place, based on his massively skeptical frown. He's going to bring it up anyway, because that's what magicians do: they talk, discuss theories, argue with each other, and make all sorts of discoveries in the name of magic.

An interesting thought, and one she'd been circling around since arriving. "I'm not sure. I wouldn't be able to describe what I do when asked -- just that it happens when I will it." She moves her amputated arm as if she was going to do something with the hand there, and simply sighs.

"It's a part of me, is what I mean. I don't remember what it's like to not be able to use magic." So she wouldn't be able to direct people into using it who have never used Thedas's magic.

And Strange can't help but smile a gentle little smile at that. "Whereas I have plenty of experience in not using magic. I've been a magician for less than ten years."

It's probably closer to seven or eight years at this point, but in between timeline shenanigans in the carnival, going home for a little bit, and the time he spent trapped in the darkness, Strange isn't precisely sure of how long he's been a magician, down to the months. Describing it in vague periods of time would be best.

Still, it's reassuring to hear that he and Lavellan were at least slightly on the same train of thought.

"Less than ten years and you think so highly of yourself?" It's said in a jesting manner, but she's also beginning to think he absolutely doesn't know what he's getting into. Still, that he's eager for it is enough that she smiles at him. It's different than the mages back home, the ones in the Inquisition, who weren't ever trained not to live in fear. She tried to help them, in some way.

Lavellan nods in understanding, and takes another sip. "I'm sure, with Solas, we could come up with a test to see if you could." And oh yes, she's dragging Solas into this. He'd know more, after all, and she'd enjoy seeing them clash.

He knows he should be a bit more modest. The Ringmaster has pointed out multiple times just how small potatoes Strange's world is compared to others. The magical history of his England is start and stop, an England that's just discovering what it can do. And logically speaking, he knows that Lavellan's world, with it's long, storied history of magic means that she (and by extension, other mages from her world) probably do know more about magic than Strange does.

But she mentions Solas again. And fuck iiiiiiit, Strange is the greatest, he knows this shit, of course they'll find a way to help connect someone who isn't from Thedas to the Fade and of course this won't be possible without Strange's help. He doesn't even bother to hide the smug expression on his face as he leans in towards Lavellan.

"Considering that Solas is the Fade expert, it makes sense to bring him along. But don't underestimate me and my skills: I think highly of myself for a reason." A reason other than arrogance and egotism, that is.

For some reason, the only thing Lavellan can think of is a offhanded comment made by Solas -- no real god need prove himself, anyone who tries is either mad or lying. Infuriating, in retrospect, but also she wonders how such a thing with Strange. Still, her amusement doesn't fade and she gives him a slight nod. "I will endeavor not to," she says, sincere in that, at least.

She does take a skeptical skip of her wine, however, looking over the rim of her glass before shaking her head sightly. "I would like to know more about those mirrors of yours, however." Because that seems to be a constant between their two worlds.

(no subject)

kingsroads - 2018-04-14 03:03 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only