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. ]

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Lambert waves Syrlya lazily towards the direction Strange indicates.

“You go. Nightrider orders,” he grins. “I’ll head up the other way.”

Syrlya rolls his eyes, but obliges and starts to jog further down the shore. To his credit, manages to at least not trip even when he sways a little. His attention is held on the water in the lake, trying to decipher the pattern in it.

He slows to a walk, then stops where he reaches a point where some of the grass in the image is a little clearer outside the shadow. And then he leans over, staring at the image more critically. He doesn't reach the end of the green... but he thinks he's figured out what the green is.

That stunned silence holds for a minute, before he covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

Strange stays where he is, examining the spell, and looking over the framework with a frown. Was it the size? Perhaps he could account for the size of the spell if he added in a bit of Omskirk or a smidge of the theory of recognizing limitations and oh wait, Syrlya's laughing at him?

Strange frowns, looking over at his trailermate. "Well go on, what's so funny?" he yells.

Lambert's wandered off in the other direction, though his ears mean he can hear the other two perfectly fine. The reverse isn't necessarily true, though, which means he's bawling back.

"Yeah, what is it?"

Sorry everyone at the party, it's idiots yelling at each other along a lakeshore time.

Syrlya turns to Strange with a mild, crooked smile as he points out to the water. Not that it makes it any clearer, since they're still standing at an odd angle.

"Your scrying! Does it... does it change size depending what you are looking into?" Because he's pretty certain it has. "I believe Cole must be in the middle!"

Strange frowns a little...then starts to laugh himself. So his scrying took up the entirety of the lake? And it still showed the proper image? Well, points for English magic! "Both of you come back here. If I just adjust the spell this way then perhaps..."

He trails off as Strange starts drawing circles in the air again, muttering something different. By the time Syrlya and Lambert are back to where Strange is, the image has reformed, small enough so that all of them can see: it's Cole, on the outskirts of the party, sitting in the grass near a tree.

"There we go," Strange remarks, smugly.

At Strange's direction, Lambert ambles back over, squinting at the image in the water. Well, there's Cole all right, thankfully not up to any creepy spirit business (at least, as far as Lambert knows) -- but also not terribly up to anything else interesting, either.

"Boring," he comments with a huff and a yawn, shaking his head and waving a hand in the air. "Do someone else. Someone fun."

Syrlya returns to Strange's other side, shaking his head. Once the image of Cole is clearer, he can't help but look back over his shoulder as if he'll actually catch some sight of him. Why is he apparently so far from everyone else...?

He doesn't focus on it long, however, before turning back to the other two. "Who would you consider someone 'fun'?" Probably, someone easy to laugh at.

"You're the one who chose him in the first place," Strange retorts, as if this is somehow Lambert's fault (because it is. Pick better targets, dude.) With a wave of Strange's hand, the image of Cole vanishes from the lake.

As for Syrlya's questions, without shame, Strange straight up answers, "Usually I spy on Lambert and Childermass. They're terribly boring, but a few times it's been worth it." Ooh, there's an idea. "There we go, we'll do Childermass!"

"I said fun," Lambert snorts, rolling his eyes. Come on, Strange, you know as well as he does that the odds are trying to scry on Childermass is just gonna be a whole lot of shadows, a bird, or him writing in his notes.

"You need to find better hobbies than spying on your friends," adds the man actively encouraging Strange to spy on his friends, giving him a friendly shove. "And you shouldn't be so proud to admit it, either."

But that still leaves the question of who else to spy on. Who else isn't around here that would be fun to tease...? Lambert grins suddenly.

"Scry on Rita. I bet she's playing with her cat again."

"Usually?" Syrlya raises a brow, giving Strange an incredulous look. He can't imagine why Strange feels the need to spy on those two, apparently frequently.

"Are you... feeling left out Strange?" Unless it's that. Maybe Strange is, in fact, just a lonely man.

It's because he's a creep who doesn't believe in boundaries, Syrlya. Strange takes Lambert's friendly shove and is about to shove back when Syrlya's question distracts him. Feeling left out? He doesn't think he's feeling left out.

"Of course not," Strange answers, a bit confused. "I just like to know what people are up to." He's certain that the peanut gallery over there has something smarmy to add, but Strange turns back to the spell, muttering under his breath as he recasts it.

"Hmm." Eventually, an image pops up in the water, thankfully small enough that everyone can see it. The spell's found Rita! And she's kissing 9S. Strange watches the image with an odd little frown on his face, like he's not entirely sure what to think of it.

Needless to say, Lambert's reaction is far less restrained.

"Holy shit!" Yeah, Strange is going to be saved from the peanut gallery by Lambert leaning heavily on his shoulder to squint at the water instead.

"Didn't think those two had it in them."

Syrlya looks unconvinced by Strange's assertion. Blatantly so.

But he turns back to the water as Strange begins to recast the spell. And that definitely is Rita and 9S kissing. He didn't know 9S had any feelings for her, but he's ultimately ambivalent to it. So it's a romance, that's nice.

He's not sure why Lambert is teling about it, and his shoulders twitch suddenly at his hollering before he just looks at him, confused. "What, pursuing one another?"

Strange is still viewing this with his weird frown. Did Lambert and Syrlya not know about 2B? It's entirely possible, it's not like 9S talked about the other androids as much. But that conversation ages ago ended with Strange convinced that 9S liked 2B. So why was he kissing Rita?

He can't help but feel vaguely put out about the whole thing. You can't just DITCH the My Significant Other Is In A Different Realm And I Might Not Be Able To See Her For Who Knows How Long Club, 9S! Solidarity in sadness, stop kissing someone else!

"9S has this whole thing about humans," Strange explains, still frowning a little bit. "I thought that might get in the way of any sort of relationship with one.'

Hearing that, Lambert laughs, turning his attention from the lake to nudging Strange in the side. “Who pissed in your scrying bowl? You’re the one who said she liked him in the first place.” Or close enough, at any rate.

“Guess we know they’re not going to show up tonight. Quit pouting and have a drink.” See, he’s being a good friend. He’s even handing Strange a drink already!

"A 'thing' about humans." Syrlya raises a brow at Strange. He isn't sure quite what that means, and it shows in his tone. At least, around Syrlya he hasn't been explicitly weird about them. Either way, the way he watches the scene is more passive curiosity than any investment in their love lives. "They come from different worlds, don't they?"

"Her liking him isn't the same as him liking her," Strange answers, as he takes the drink Lambert shoves on him. He looks down at Rita and 9S for a moment more before waving a hand over the image: it vanishes, leaving nothing in the water at the moment.

"But yes, they do come from different worlds. Vastly different worlds, as a matter of fact. Rita's world is full of magic, whereas I don't know if 9S ever encountered any before the carnival."

And then of course, there's the whole '9S's world doesn't have humans' thing. But this is Strange, of course he focuses on magic as the difference. He takes a sip of the drink, before turning around to face Lambert and Syrlya

"Show's over already?" Lambert asks, but it's not hard to see he's not that interested in seeing how that proceeds as much as he's interested in picking on Strange, who really doesn't seem to be having as much fun with this spying on friends thing as Lambert anticipated he would, which gets him a raised brow.

"Seems like he's getting used to it well enough to me."

"What's so different about it?" Short of this 'thing about humans', which he still doesn't quite follow.

"He's been in the carnival for a while. I would assume that anyone who spends enough time here would become accustomed to magic." He gestures again, vaguely, with the empty shot glass. "We are absolutely saturated in it."

Enough that it's altering their physical body, which will always be a little unsettling for someone who's much more used to having greater control of his appearance. Not so completely disturbed to regret this, but... he's seen some of the other carnival members.

Why's he put on the spot? Why's he the one who's getting questions about 9S, go bother Lambert about this, Syrlya! Never mind the fact that Strange was the one who started the gossip in the first place.

"To start with, I don't think Rita's world has any androids. And if they do, they aren't as complex as 9S is. Anyway, that doesn't matter." Strange turns towards Lambert and tries to sound a bit more like his normal, smug self. "What matters is that I can scry directly into the lake."

Suck on that, everybody who calls his scrying useless.

Trust Strange to focus on the absolutely inconsequential, in Lambert’s opinion. He snorts, tail swatting Strange lightly on the thigh.

“And you’d never have thought of it if we didn’t tell you to try,” he points out. “So you don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

He glances at Syrlya, brows raised. “Magic is pretty common from where you’re from, isn’t it?”

Edited 2018-04-04 05:02 (UTC)

"Pretty common," Syrlya repeats monotonously, glancing over to Lambert. "It is part of everyone's lives. Some more than others, but it is a crux of Tyria as a whole--and necessary for much of its existence."

And some of the people in it, like Syrlya. He's been slowly growing more aware of how much magic is around them... probably because it's begun to saturate him, too. "So, yes. As much as it is for the Ringmaster and her realm. Why?"

As Lambert's tail hits him again, Strange briefly takes a moment to curse the Ringmaster for not giving him any body parts he can whack Lambert with. The next time that tail comes near him, he's turning to smoke.

"Tell him about the bloodstone," the peanut gallery pipes up. This doesn't really answer Syrlya's question but, then again, Strange doesn't really know why Lambert's asking about magic to begin with. He can take a guess though, and that guess is nosiness.

Turning to smoke would require Strange having the reflexes to dodge in the first place, so that's going to avail him very little. In any case, Lambert eyes Strange suspiciously, but he'll address his concerns to Syrlya--

"But if it's going to take a long time, don't. I came here to drink, not hear about even more magic." He shrugs. "I'd rather hear you talk about yourself, for once."

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