lostcarnival | ⇨ THE ATHENAEUM

Entry tags:

⇨ THE ATHENAEUM

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 47 - Day 58 ish
Where: The Athenaeum
What: The carnival arrives at book world. First week, they'll be performing for magical manifestations of book characters. Second week, it's time to hunt (for books, in the library.) Around Day 58 some stuff will occur.
Warnings: Reading is mandatory.

FAERIE TALES↴

Though the carnival will be performing for its guests in the first week, they are welcome to search the Athenaeum while they are off duty during that time. The manifestations of story characters will be out in full force during performance week, with animals, people, objects, and even locations growing out from various tales. Most are distracting at worst, and will be curious to check out the carnival. Some, however, can be as dangerous as they were in their stories of origin. You know what to do.

► IT'S TIME TO ROLEPLAY: The best way to deal with book ghosts is to follow their narrative to its logical conclusion - turn the tables, work the story so it ends in your favour! Naturalistic and narratively satisfying plotting will have the manifestations following your lead. However, push too hard and introduce too many plot holes, inconsistencies, or illogical plot twists, and they will reject your reality utterly, becoming quite aggressive in the process. You can also use your natural abilities and powers to fight them in a traditional sense, but in the Ringmaster's experience, it's best to fight reality benders by bending reality right back at them. If you aren't careful, it's possible to be dragged fully into a story's reality, and then things get really messed up.

► IT'S ALSO TIME TO READ: The carnival came here for a purpose, and that purpose is to research. Specifically, the Ringmaster is looking for information on the Queen's Miracles - the set of ancient fae artifacts that the Blue Rose is one of. The carnival needs these artifacts to defend itself, but nobody knows where they've been for thousands of years. That's what the books are for. However, nothing is stopping you from pursuing knowledge for personal reasons. The halls are open to your perusal, and only your heart can guide you to the book you truly seek. Check the plot post to see what's allowed, and sign up to find plot info or other important game information below.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lambert's right: it shouldn't work here. But the familiar blackness told him almost instantly that this was his curse, the tower of darkness. And now that he's looking around and can spot the other details, Strange knows exactly where they are.

"We're in Venice," Strange responds. Oh great. They're in Venice. He spent all of his time in Venice being cursed or insane, he doesn't want to be in Venice! Strange walks up to one of the mirrors, making a half-assed attempt at an explanation as he does so. "My apartment is just up those stairs. I haven't returned magic to England yet, all the mirrors are still in one piece. Oh God, if this is a book, does that mean I'm cursed or there's a book Jonathan who's cursed?"

Strange continues to yammer and theorize under his breath. He has a slight idea of what's going on (book nonsense) but his expression is swapping from irritated to confused to slightly scared every second or so as Strange mentally goes through the whole range of emotions.

Naturally, Strange yammering is Lambert’s cue to tune him out, as there’s little he can do to calm down a Strange who’s so thoroughly worked up. Instead, aiming to satisfy his own curiosity more than anything else, he decides to open the box in his hand. It opens readily enough, but the contents ... are not illuminating.

Since the only one who might have a clue is over there in the corner muttering himself into a frenzy, Lambert’s going to take the opportunity to interrupt, rudely:

“Do you know what this means?” He holds out the box with the pinky in it, brows raised. This should make for an entertaining explanation, if nothing else.

Edited 2018-05-02 05:44 (UTC)

As Lambert holds out the box, Strange looks over with a little frown. "That's Lady Pole's finger," Strange explains, as if a finger in a box is a perfect explanation. "I gave it to Childermass to reattach it and break the spell on her. Or, the book Strange will give it to Childermass, I suppose."

Because seeing that finger definitely hammers home that no, this must be a book. He already gave Drawlight the finger to give to Childermass: he knows that much. And considering that the mirrors aren't broken, that makes even more sense. Which means that Strange has a pretty accurate guess of his mental state right about now.

"If I show up, I'm leaving you to deal with me." There's a pause because wait, does that sentence make sense? Strange doesn't know, and starts to clarify. "The Jonathan Strange of this story is currently mad. I don't think it would end up well if that me had to deal with a vision of the future on top of everything else."

“I thought you were still claiming you were currently mad, and you know we’re not getting out of here until the story’s done,” Lambert points out, though without much rancor. Still, he looks around, as though he half-expects mad Strange to jump out from the shadows at any moment.

Reattaching a finger to break a spell is strange, though he’s heard stranger ... and it tickles at memory, finally connecting the goings-on with what Strange has only mentioned in passing before, and he frowns.

“What was the spell he was supposed to break? You said the faerie brought her back — was Childermass supposed to kill her again?” Because that’s obviously what you do with resurrected women, right? Lambert’s never heard a tale of that which ended well. Turning away from Strange reveals where the letter’s found itself, stuck in the back pocket of his pants, though he’s well distracted from it now. Because—

“When did you give it to Childermass? Is he suppsoed to show up here?”

Edited 2018-05-02 14:20 (UTC)

The way that Strange keeps stealing glances at one of the apartments tells Lambert where he thinks book-Strange is: up there, probably wondering where the hell his letter and little box went to. But Lambert's question brings him back to the conversation.

"What? No, of course not. Lady Pole was enthralled alongside Arabella. Reattaching the finger would break the enchantment." Strange is honestly a bit confused at the idea of rekilling Lady Pole. She was brought back from the dead, it seems a waste of time to kill someone who was alive again.

"And Childermass won't show. I gave the letter and box to a man named Christopher Drawlight, someone Norrell sent to spy on me. Drawlight gave the things to Childermass." Well, Drawlight was supposed to give the things to Childermass.

Strange looks around the area, with a frown. "He isn't here," he murmurs. "I suspect the story ends with the book myself giving Drawlight the instructions and bringing magic back to England, but we can hardly do that if neither of them are here." Which leaves...what? The two of them hanging out in a darkened courtyard, surrounded by ravens and mirrors?

Yeah, with the way things are, there isn't really much of a story here except 'crazy magician sits alone in the dark and dies of boredom,' which Lambert isn't terribly interested in living out. It's both a relief and not to know that a book version of Childermass won't be making his presence known -- he wouldn't recognize Lambert, anyway.

"You must have done something to get him here, to give it to him, right? You just have to do it again." As he speaks, he finally reaches back to pull out the letter from his pocket, squinting at Strange's handwriting (not the most legible, in his opinion, mad or not) to see if it's anything remotely useful for the present situation.

It's not entirely useful. The letter is just cliff notes for Emma Pole: stay asleep, show Arabella the exit, here's what Childermass is going to do, we'll have everybody else save you when the time is right, I'm going to summon the Raven King, and so on and so forth.

As Lambert reads the letter, Strange walks over towards the birdbath. Fine, fine, he'll do the magic and get this over with (though Strange does roll his eyes at Lambert as he heads over.) He closes his eyes, tries to reach out to the darkness, to let the magic of the curse seep through him and boost his own magic. Waving a hand over the birdbath, he commands, "Show me Christopher Drawlight."

Nothing happens. Lambert's medallion isn't even humming. Strange frowns, moves his hands slightly, then commands again, "This is how it was done before, this is how it'll be done now. Show me Drawlight." And nothing happens. Out of irritation, Strange snaps his fingers, muttering a quick word. A flame hovers where he snaps before Strange snuffs it out of existence. So, some magic is working but others aren't. Strange turns to give Lambert a confused look...right as he notices one of the ravens watching Lambert, waiting patiently and giving him an expectant expression like they used to give him, before he brought magic back to England. Strange attempting the magic of the story didn't work and Lambert had the box and letter on him. He's got a fun new theory now and it absolutely sucks.

"You give it a go."

“Give what a go?” Lambert snaps at Strange, looking up from the letter he’s been skimming with a frown. “You’re the magician, not me, remember?”

The theory that is occurring to Strange is slowly occurring to Lambert as well, but unlike the magician, he’s far more reluctant to accept it, instinctively pushing the knowledge away. He doesn’t want to be drawn into this story — but the longer he delays, the deeper the darkness grows, the more the birds seem to encroach. Stiff-legged, he makes his way to Strange and the birdbath, scowling all the while.

“This is stupid. Show me Drawlight,” he mutters sullenly, waving a hand over the water. For all his protestations, he did notice what Strange was trying to do.

And the magic works. Reflected in the water is Drawlight: a nervous and slightly scared looking Englishman. His attire is shabby as well, but it's a 'desperately trying to stay fashionable with no money' shabby, unlike Strange's 'I don't give a fuck' hobo chic.

Well. This confirms it. Strange looks over towards Lambert with a funny little smile on his face. On the one hand, he's a bit pissed off that the narrative has somehow recognized Lambert as Strange instead of Strange himself as Strange. On the other hand? Ooooh look at me, I'm Lambert and I'm not a magician despite the fact that I do magic on a regular basis. Who's not a magician now, buddy.

"Well, magician," Strange starts, with that funny little smile still on his face. "You'll need to summon Drawlight here, give him the instructions and box, and then open the mirrors and bring magic back to England. Any questions?"

Lambert, needless to say, looks incredulous, and rightfully so in his opinion. He looks from Strange, to the ghostly image in the birdbath, and then back at the magician. The urge to chuck the the finger box at his stupid smiling mop of a head is nearly overwhelming for a moment, but he reels it in.

"And just how the fuck am I supposed to do that?" All right, so he didn't reel it in all that well, but he's trying, see? Gritted teeth and all.

Oooh, look at me, I'm a witcher, I don't do magic unless it's practical, just ignore the whole daemon thing. The more Lambert's irritation grows, the more Strange's irritation starts to fade. He's still a bit jittery because of the surroundings and the curse, but Lambert's complete disapproval of everything makes him feel a little bit better.

"The curse is killing you, but you can manipulate it as well." Did he tell Lambert about that 'I almost died' bit? Hopefully. Well, if not, now he knows. "Now that you know where he is, ask the darkness to reach out and bring him to you."

Lambert stares at Strange blankly. “I don’t feel like I’m dying.” The story’s trying very hard to make Lambert think he’s dying but that’s where that mental fortitude comes in handy. The best it can do is try to dim and flicker the images around them to simulate fading vision, and one of the ravens caws when Lambert speaks, an air of disapproval about the way it cocks his head. The floor underneath them lurches angrily, making Lambert reach out to steady himself on the bathtub quickly with his free hand.

“All right, all right!” he grumbles. “Bring me this fucking idiot so we can get this over with already!” He gestures ineffectually at the darkness like he’s seen Strange do a hundred times before, impatiently.

The medallion hums and Strange senses the magic at work. Lambert's incantation was...unorthodox, but it works. And as the magic of the curse goes to work, Strange starts to lecture Lambert. "I don't know how specific the magic is, but you'll need to instruct him to give the box to Childermass, to give the letter to Lady Pole, and to tell Norrell that you are coming. After that, you might have to bring magic back to England but that was all rather—"

Nope, the pep talk is briefly interrupted because the magic works fast. The darkness swells forward then retreats to deposit an absolutely terrified Drawlight in the room with them. He's looking at Lambert like he's the scariest thing imaginable before he launches right into trying to cover his hide. "M-Mister Strange! I don't know what you want with me but they're the ones who told me to come here, Norrell and Lascelles, they—" But then Drawlight looks over at the real Jonathan Strange and, for the first time, notices there's someone else here. "And, ah, who might you be?"

Ah. Right. The darkness is here, but he's not feeling the symptoms of queasiness, coughing, or death's door that he knows he should feel. Strange straight up forgot that if the book sees Lambert as him, then it's going to see the real Strange as someone else. Who that someone else is though, Strange has no damn clue. As such, he's just deer in the headlights for the moment while he tries to mentally scramble up a cover story that would fit in with the scenario because he knows Lambert won't be able to come up with a cover story himself.

Christopher Drawlight in person is about as sorry a sight as the vision presented in the water -- worse, in fact, since there's a grating sniveling voice and a reeking, frightened body to go with it now. Lambert wrinkles his nose, both at the sight in front of him and being addressed as Mr. Strange, but when the book vision ends up distracted by Strange, something absolutely terrible occurs to him as petty revenge for being stuck in this situation.

"That is my fairy servant, and he's none of your business," Lambert answers, haughtily. "Now stop babbling and listen to me carefully, you sorry sack of shit, because I've got a job for you."

Drawlight gives Strange a look of absolute terror as Strange gives Lambert a look of absolute annoyance. The worst part is? This narrative twist makes sense. After all, summoning a fairy was Strange's goal in coming to Venice. The problem here is that Strange knows that Lambert's going to get his kicks while he can and order him to do dumb shit.

"I am the-" quick, come up with a good name "-the Marquis of Mirrors." Strange gives Drawlight a small, overly theatrical bow, before turning his attention back to Lambert. "And for all of our sakes, I'd suggest you do what my master tells you to do."

"I'll do anything!" Drawlight quickly stammers. "Wha-What do you need?"

Take it up with the library management, Strange, or whoever the fuck decided to cast Lambert as the protagonist here. The fabric of the story, if nothing else, seems to accept the existence of a fae servant without a hitch. Now, what was it Strange had said he needed ... ?

"All right, so I've got three things for you to do." Looking down at the items still clutched in his hands, he grimaces, then glances at Strange.

"You know, it kind of doesn't make sense to give this to Childermass without any explanation about what it is, does it? Isn't there a note to give him too?" Yes, yes, he knows that's how it apparently happened, but if Strange thought he wasn't going to criticize crazy Strange's plan while he was at it...

Edited ( ) 2018-05-06 17:59 (UTC)

"I-well I mean you, you did write him a note. But to the best of my knowledge, he never received it." Which makes sense as to why it isn't here: whoever wrote this book wasn't Strange or Drawlight, so how would they know about the note in the first place?

Well, they'll have to make do. "A fairy has enthralled lady Lady Pole and Arabella Strange. This same fae has also threatened the king of England." Did Lambert know that part? Hopefully he did. "Tell John Childermass to go to Lady Pole. The magician's plans should be outlined in her letter and he is so read it there. He is to perform the magic and reattach what is given but only when the time is right."

Does that make sense? Strange hopes it makes sense.

"Should've stuck the note in the box with the finger," Lambert grumbles under his breath. But he knows well enough that best laid plans rarely go as intended.

"You heard him," he says, turning to Drawlight. "Letter to Lady Pole--" he thrusts it at the man, waiting for him to take it, before he shoves the box at him next. "And this box to Childermass. Simple enough, right?"

"I thought I did that," Strange hisses back, with a frown and a roll of his eyes. It's not his fault that somewhere in the narrative a note explaining everything for Childermass got lost! Still, as Lambert moves to give Drawlight his orders, Strange moves to stand behind Lambert, trying to look as imperious and fae-like as he can muster. It mostly involves a lot of Strange holding his head up in a haughty manner.

Drawlight, bless his heart, obviously has no idea what's going on between these two and is too scared and confused to ask about the details. He just takes the letter and the box with a nod. "And, ah, the third thing?"

Right. The third thing. Lambert grin turns sharp and he reaches out with a hand to ball his fingers into the front of Drawlight's shirt, hissing in his face.

"Tell Norrell I'm coming." He lets Drawlight go, then looks back at Strange, at the shadows flickering around them.

"And when I do, I'll be bringing English magic back with me to kick his ass."

Strange just gives Lambert a look. Why are you like this. Why are you saying this. Lambert's supposed to be him, when has Strange ever bragged that he'll kick someone's ass?!

Despite the fact that Lambert gave Drawlight his task, the story remains. There's not any signs of the setting dissolving or fading away. Looks like Lambert's got to actually bring the magic back himself. "On the contrary, you'll bring English magic back now. We have an audience, after all." Sorry Drawlight. "How much have I told you about the spell?"

His mood's turning: Strange was a bit sulky about all of this at the start, but the prospect of seeing that magic again, of watching the magic he cast to bring back English magic is definitely enticing.

Strange sure as hell brags about everything else. Might as well add some ass-kicking in for good measure and make it super well-rounded. He frowns at the magician, not having any particular cues as to what to do next, but ...

"The mirrors have to break," he says, thinking out loud. "You never said how."

"The ravens are your messengers," Strange explains, as he looks down at the birds. "Use the magic to send them through the mirrors here to the mirrors of England. They'll break through and bring magic back."

It's all a bit of a confusing and slightly weird explanation. Still, Strange is explaining this as if it makes perfect sense. Because hey, that's what he did, that's what makes sense to him. Just ignore the fact that it's a plan that a dying madman came up with. "As a warning, more of the birds will show up when you start the magic."

Like, a shitton of birds. More doesn't mean ten or so, more means literally hundreds.

Use the magic how, Strange? Lambert looks at him, trying to communicate as much incredulity he can in just the twitch of his eyebrows. He can't exactly do something he doesn't understand, can he?

But he doesn't have to be a real magician, or use real magic: he just has to be the magician the story needs, he supposes, and won't the book do the rest? Book Drawlight is already looking a bit eerily glassy-eyed over there, as if in suspended animation, or maybe that's just how blank and stupid he looks all the time ... anyway. Magic. Magic, right.

While he's been a relatively unconvincing Strange thus far, if there's one thing he knows, it's the gesturing the magician's prone to during his more theatrical Carnival performances. Lambert draws on that memory now, weaving his hands through the air.

"Elaine tedd a'taeghane," he intones solemnly. Despite the bullshitting, he at least tries to push some willpower behind the words, willing the birds to do whatever they're supposed to be doing to make this happen. "Uskglass caen me a'baeth aep arse -- Jonathan Strange, the greatest magician of this age, commands you to return English magic where it belongs!"

Cue throwing his hands up dramatically. He's going to feel real stupid in a moment if this doesn't work.

Edited (wow that’ll teach me to write tags tired ) 2018-05-10 06:37 (UTC)

It works enough for the story. Because suddenly, birds.

The ravens on the ground take flight, flying into the mirrors. One would expect them to be smushed into raven paste, but they break through the mirror, opening it up to some other realm beyond. From out of nowhere, more birds appear, flying from the sky of the courtyard area through the mirrors. There's hundreds of them, enough to break through every mirror in England. The courtyard is just a cacophony of birds and feathers.

Drawlight is terrified, hiding his head from the birds and trying not to look. But Strange is standing upright, watching all this with a slightly mad grin on his face. He laughs, a bright triumphant laugh that cuts through the noise of wings. This is beautiful.

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