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

"Being the king's magician," Strange specifies. "Granted, I worked for the government more than the king and the army more than the government, but you can see why certain standards of respectability had to be upheld." And Lavellan could also see why Strange couldn't be a big ol drunk half the time.

He listens to her explanation with a little nod. Well, those that she recruited? And an inner circle? Lavellan must be more important within her Inquisition than she let on. Then again, she's probably just now learning that Strange was more important within his government than he let on.

"With a title like that, I like him already. Though, what's a qunari?" He's terribly mispronouncing 'qunari' but hey, Strange is making an attempt.

"Oh, certainly," she says, with a small grin. "Although I've never had to worry about working for a King before -- the Dalish don't have anything that approximates shemlen royalty. Orlais has an Empress, of course. Had." Before Lavellan let her get stabbed. "Now they've got an Emperor, for all the good that'll do them." Because Briala's the one with the strings.

Anyway, Strange didn't ask for the details of Thedas politics. He's asking about the qunari. "Qunari," she says, correcting his pronunciation. He tried. "Technically, anyone who follows the teachings of the Qun is qunari, but outside of their islands, everyone uses it to describe a particular race. Tall, grey skinned people who have horns." You're welcome, Strange. Thedas is weird.

Strange can relate. At Lavellan's comment about the emperor, he can't help but laugh, a short little slightly bitter laugh. "Considering that England's current king is absolutely mad, the sentiment's familiar."

Poor bonkers George III. But the conversation shifts to the qunari. Strange smiles and pays attention, though he can't help but raise a little eyebrow at Lavellan's description. Tall, grey skinned people who have horns. Well. Okay then.

"And I assume the Qun is a religion of some sort?" Follows the teachings sounds religionish, at least. "A religion and a race of tall, grey skinned people who have horns. Your world never ceases to surprise me."

"Oh, he's not mad. He's just being blackmailed by an elf. It's a scandal of the highest order, of course, but all the shemlen are too scared to do anything about it." Lavellan says, and then stops. Hm. Lambert's drink seems to have had more of an effect on her than she thought. She gives Strange a small raise of her glass before taking another sip.

Oh, right, the qunari. "More of a philosophy. Something I don't know much about, in truth, but neither do most people. They just sit in the north, giving Tevinter hell and scaring all of the other nations just by existing and gaining converts." A pause, and because she remembers how Strange reacted to the idea of Circles, decides she's going to tell him about the saarebas. "They chain their mages up, sew their lips together. Sometimes they'll cut out their tongues if the qun feels like they need to."

Surprising nobody, Strange reacts poorly. His eyes widen, his grip on his glass tightens and he starts yelling. "That's absolutely barbaric!" Something which he's certain Lavellan agrees with him on, but that hasn't stopped Strange from yelling and complaining before.

"From a magical standpoint, that makes no sense and from a moral standpoint, it's beyond the pale! Honestly, between the Circles and the Qunari, I think the Dalish are the only people in your world with sense when it comes to magic!" And this is what happens when you get all your worldbuilding info from very biased sources. Very angrily, Strange takes a sip of his own drink, fuming all the while. If that Iron Bull showed up here, Strange would give him a piece of his mind!

She hadn't expected the yelling, but she probably should have.

"Magic in our world works differently," Lavellan reminds him, although she completely agrees. "They're afraid of magic just as much as anyone else, although if you insist upon treating your mages as weapons I'm not sure what the Qun expects from their population." For she understood that much, although she grins -- pleased that Strange is willing to give the Dalish, in her opinion, the correct amount of credit.

Strange is ready to continue yelling about things and passing judgement on entire philosophies he's never met. Chaining and mutilating magicians, how short sighted of them!

"And about that! Why would someone be afraid of magic in the first place? It is simply a tool or an art. It would be like chaining up all the carpenters or poets! If anything, they should be afraid of the individual magician himself."

Strange is saying all of this with so much passion. Restricting magic and limiting what one can do with it is a very obvious pet peeve of his and, given the chance, he'll argue and yell for hours on end.

"You'll find no argument from me, Strange," Lavellan reminds him with a raised brow. Just in case he forgot she was a mage as well, and absolutely agreed. That was why she let Solas murder the ones who'd murdered his friend, after all. "Magic is not dangerous, not at its heart -- it's just another part of the world I'm from. Moreso, even." Before Solas created the Veil.

She would like to introduce him to Vivienne, Lavellan thinks. Just to see what happened.

As with all the Dragon Age mages, Strange and Vivienne would devolve into petty bickering. Strange is a bit grumpy and a bit fussy just at the concept of saarabas in general but Lavellan's words temper that annoyance. It's nice to see that other people in her amazingly insensible world are sensible to begin with.

"That's part of the reason why, despite all the trouble we get into, I've come to love the carnival," Strange admits. "It's so refreshing being somewhere where magic's allowed to properly flourish, not condemned as is in your world or barely starting up as is in mine."

If Lavellan had known Strange better, she'd have wondered how much of the trouble they've gotten into he's contributed to. As is, she thinks they get into plenty of trouble on her own. Running a hand through her hair, she nods in agreement. "I must admit I haven't spent much time among the Carnival--" on account of being brainwashed and kidnapped, "but I've started seeing the value of that."

And, because she's who she is: "As well as wanting to learn more about fae magic, if I can." Because why would she not want to?

"You know," Strange starts, with a smug smile on his face, "I do have an extensive collection of notes on the fae and their magic. If you want, I'd be willing to lend you them once the evening's finished."

Or, considering at the rate they're going through this booze, it would probably be closer to the next day or the day after that. Jury's still out on whether Lavellan or Strange would remember his offer.

She brightens up at that, a grin sliding across her face. Would she? "I'd like nothing more. If I'm here for a year, I might as well indulge a little." She knows that an extension on her contract is theoretically possible, but Lavellan also knows she cannot afford to let herself entertain that thought. One year, and then she'd be back in Thedas.

Best to use it wisely any way she can.

Lavellan has no idea about the tl;dr she's getting herself into. But man, does Strange look so happy at the idea of sharing his notes, Lavellan caring about his notes, and Lavellan caring about the fae and fae magic to begin with. So many people here only cared about the basics and bare bones that to find someone who cares about it at least a little deeply is amazing. He knocks back some of his drink, still grinning all the while.

"I've tried to put some context in with the notes, though I know I've failed at a few things—Portland's a mess and a half that I don't think I'll ever be able to succinctly explain," said with a little frown. "Still, if you ever come across something I haven't explained all that well, either seek me out or call me over the radios."

She does not, but paperwork and reading is something she's used to, and therefore wouldn't be daunted in the slightest if she knew. And after all, Strange seems like her best bet for getting more information on what's going on with regards to the fae, and Lavellan does so hate being out of the loop.

"I've.. gathered that about Portland. I believe it's why someone from my world chose to willingly sign on," Lavellan says, coming dangerously close to bringing up Cole in a situation where things might get complicated for reasons. "I'll be certain to do so. Thank you, Strange."

And then a pause. "I don't suppose you're going to have another mage meeting in the future?"

"I hadn't thought of organizing one," Strange muses, with a little frown. But it has been over a month since the last meeting...and they did get some new people...and it wouldn't surprise him if some people picked up some tricks from Wismuth. And honestly, it makes sense if Strange is the one to organize the meetings. After all, if not him, then who?

"Perhaps when performances are over." After all, there's no use having a mage meeting in the middle of performances when everybody's mind is elsewhere and everyone's too focused on what they're doing. "We can also use the big top if we're doing it when performances are over. There's plenty of space there."

"If the Ringmaster is going to send us into places after objects even she doesn't have solid facts on, I feel as if magic will be our first and last line of defense," Lavellan points out, her hand going to her hip as she thinks about this further. "She suspects they might be in 'Heaven' or 'Hell', whatever those are. The more prepared we can be, the better."

Because Lavellan is from a world where Jesus is female and ended up married to God instead of some trinity. And also is incredibly bitter towards the concept of religion at the moment.

Edited 2018-03-27 06:10 (UTC)

Strange can't help but give Lavellan a confused look...before riiight, she comes from a bizarre fantasy world. She probably doesn't have any concept of Christianity to begin with.

"I agree completely," he says with a nod. Magic the only thing here that can keep everybody safe, or at least as safe as they can be. "As for Heaven or Hell, in my world, those are both types of afterlife. If one was overall good in life, when they die they go to heaven and if one was overall evil, when they die they go to hell. Here, I think the terms are a bit more loose. The carnival went to a hell one time—there weren't any souls of the damned, but there was fire and brimstone."

And vampires. But that's a whole different explanation.

"Really? And who decides who has been 'good' or 'bad'?" That... seemed like a very arbitrary way to decide where one ended up after death. "In Thedas, when anyone dies, one's spirit travels through the Fade regardless of one's previous behavior during life. I'm sure the Chantry has a way to determine what happens then, but the Dalish believe they just end up in the Beyond, guided by Falon'Din and Dirthamen."

She reaches up to trace the lines of Dirthamen's vallaslin on her face, frowning slightly. Something to think about later, Lavellan decides.

"Well, we may end up there again-- a hell? Are there more than one?" That hadn't seemed to have been a part of Strange's explanation.

Edited 2018-03-27 17:56 (UTC)

Thankfully, Strange has a preacher for a brother-in-law. As such, while he's not the most well-versed in religion, he's versed enough to give a halfway decent explanation. "According to what I believe, it's decided if a person is 'good' or 'bad' based on how well they follow the Bible and the doctrines of Christ—my religion's Christianity, by the way. The Bible is the guidelines of Christianity and Christ is the son of our god who came down to Earth to spread his word."

Lavellan tracing her face tattoos is completely lost on Strange. Is that something to do with her gods? (He's not even going to try to remember Falon'Din and Dirthamen, Strange knows he'll make a hash out of those names something fierce.) It's a question to ask once they've talked Christianity to death.

"And yes, a hell. My going theory is that there are multiple hell or heaven like realms." After all, he's been to one hell, dealt with residents of another hell, and learned teachings about a third hell and really, none of them added up to be the same hell. Saying that there are multiple slightly different hells is really the best way of dealing with it.

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?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject