lostcarnival | ⇨ THE ATHENAEUM

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⇨ 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

It's been months since he's had to consider performing but seeing how Childermass doesn't immediately turn the idea down, that's likely a good sign. He does have to think about it for a moment, though, before giving Strange a nod.

"Depends on what it is, I'd think," he does point out, however. "Did you have something in mind?"

Because he can... what? Vanish? Turn shadows into other shadowy forms? Turn into a bird? He did have his own act before, of course, but compared to Strange, his options have always been a little more limited.

"You've got your shadows. I can give you a much of a light source as you want while you pull from it and do something interesting."

Of course, the light source Strange is thinking of is 'fire.' Still, if he focuses on containing the flames and keeping them from the bookshelves, then that should keep the books safe while giving Childermass enough shadows to pull from and do cool shadow magic with.

Admittedly, Strange is a little iffy on what cool shadow magic Childermass could do in a performance setting, but hey, that's what performing is for in the first place.

"So long as you don't burn the place down around our ears," Childermass says oh so matter-of-factly because he knows he's thinking fire. It's an easy guess and, sure, he's not serious, but even when he's not being serious, damn he sounds serious. Regardless, it's a fair enough idea, so he steps back to give himself some space apart from Strange and nods.

"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Strange."

Edited 2018-05-04 01:01 (UTC)

Strange closes his eyes for a second before a fireball appears, floating above his hand. Murmuring something under his breath, Strange lightly lobs it into the air. It stays there, hovering for a moment, before splitting into three smaller fireballs. Multiple lights means multiple shadows, so even though this isn't the world's largest surface, Childermass still has plenty to work with.

All of his attention is focused on the fireballs, as they hover in the air and slowly start to rotate in a circle. To Strange's credit, he's actually concentrating quite hard on the fireballs, gently adjusting the circle whenever one moves too close to the bookshelves, a book ghost, or themselves.

Normally, Childermass would not put any flair into his magic, but that wasn't as true when he was actually a part of the carnival's performance crew. He at least made an effort and he'll make that same effort here and now, turning to the audience to over them a bow and then as he comes up from that, he goes from that to a pretty natural, fluid motion of sweeping an arm out and gesturing in a wide half-circle like he's pulling something out of the air.

It's the shadows he's pulling at, all the ones that Strange have helped make in addition to what was already there. They contort and twist, moving as if they were suddenly living things, parting from the surfaces they cling to. They don't make any sound. They are, after all, shadows. That's something he might be able to fix later one day, perhaps adding wind to make the sound of them coming together and flying because after pulling the shadows, he turns them all into a massive flock of crows.

He continues his sweeping motion, pulling them all around as he now completes the circle he started. The shadows flock together, becoming a whirlwind of black closing in around the two magicians. They remain birds whirling around a breath longer, then everything is black, and back where the little show had been, the pillar of shadow birds last a little longer in Childermass's wake, then scatter, as if blasted apart, in every direction.

Childermass and Strange are gone, though the specters will applaud and look around, trying to figure out where they went, nonetheless. As for the two of them, well, they aren't far from where they started. Close enough to hear the clapping and murmur of them but far enough away, a few stacks over, that they aren't like to run into them again.

While this happens and Childermass makes his birds, Strange continues to focus on his fire, keeping it moving and keeping it stable. It rotates and spins but doesn't do anything too fancy or too show offish. Strange is watching Childermass all the while, occasionally looking to see what the birds are doing.

The answer, it seems, is letting them travel. As he feels the magic of Childermass's shadow travel spell start up, Strange brings the fire together to snuff it out all at once. He's responsible, he's not going to let the books catch on fire. He lets the familiar feeling of shadow travel envelop him before they pop out a few stacks away.

"That's certainly going to be something they won't forget," Strange grins. "I'm glad you still have a bit of a flair for the dramatic."

"Something I learned from your own performance if I'm to be honest," Childermass admits with a hint of amusement playing across his face. "The first few weeks that I was with the carnival on my own were a bit stiff."

"I'm glad to see that I'm of some use!" he teases, giving Childermass a grin. And now that they don't have book ghosts or a performance to worry about, Strange relaxes a little. As he leans up against the bookshelves, Strange looks up towards the top, like he expects to see something up there.

"This place keeps making me think of Norrell. He'd keel over with excitement the moment he stepped in!" There's a slight fondness in Strange's voice as he speaks of the man. England's most notorious book hoarder would have a friggen field day in a library this huge.

Something that Childermass can't help but scoff at. Keel over with excitement indeed...

"And then he would keel over in terror at the first specter he encountered," Childermass points out. "Followed by arguing with the Curator over how the books are organized, the Scribe over how they write, and then demand I go find an increasingly long list of books for him so he would not have to walk so far."

There's a huge difference in experience between a student-turned-peer and one's servant, truly.

Edited 2018-05-07 04:12 (UTC)

Alright, alright, Strange gets it. It would terribly inconvenience everyone (mostly these two, let's be real) if Norrell was here...but he still kind of wishes the other man was here all the same.

Though, it's partly to stave off the hissy fit or sulking that would happen whenever Strange mentions the library. There's a bit of self-interest in here as well.

"But they are organized terribly," Strange has to admit. "I've found books about myself, books written in shades of color instead of words, and a ridiculous assortment of fairy tales, but nothing about the Miracles yet. If there was a proper classification system, I'd at least know where to start."

"They are," Childermass must concur because, honestly, it's the truth. It's just one he doesn't need to be told of every two minutes, thanks. Regardless, he shrugs, which is pretty much the beginning and end of his own complaints. "Easier to search when you have as many helpers as I do, I imagine, but even then, there is a lot and none of it is in any order."

But whatever. Life is chaos, he supposes. He does give Strange a curious look over the books he's found, however, raising his eyebrows a hair.

"What kind of books about yourself?"

"I only glanced at a few pages but they mostly seemed to be stuffy biographies," Strange explains, with a sigh. Biographies that put a proper amount of focus on his magic but not enough focus on Arabella. Come on, 19th century biographers! Acknowledge women! Especially when they're as cool and wonderful and amazing as Strange thinks his wife is.

"I did find something interesting, though. It turns out the thing that I buried, that I thought was Arabella, was something called a moss oak. It's an enchanted tree of some kind, pulled from a bog, given shape by the tears of a woman—and really, if that faerie wasn't dead, I'd have killed him myself for harassing Arabella!"

Because Arabella had to cry to get those tears, something had to make her cry, Strange is 100% shoving all blame for that right on the gentleman with thistle-down hair.

Far be it for him to tell Strange otherwise because he does not know otherwise himself and doesn't mind shoving blame off onto that damn faerie in any case. Damn creature caused enough trouble as it is, so why not a little more? He certainly isn't around to protest anymore. So, it just leaves Childermass to raise his eyebrows some at the rest of that.

"A moss oak? I've never heard of such a thing before," he admits. It certainly never came up in any book he browsed through at Hurtfew. "Where in the world did he find it? In Faerie?"

"In a Scottish bog of all things," Strange answers, with a little shake of his head. Which yeah, that's odd, he doesn't know why there was a moss oak there, how it got there, why nobody found it, and so on and so forth.

"But the faerie knew where it was and what it did. The story didn't tell me how, just that he knew where it was, got Walter Pole's butler to help remove the moss oak from the bog, and used the tears to make it look like Arabella."

There's a pause, while Strange mulls it over. "I wonder how he knew about it in the first place."

"A Scottish bog?" Childermass can't help but be surprised, though he furrows his brow rather than raising it at that news. "I would hope no other artifacts from Faerie like that linger in our world..."

But chances are they do. They just haven't found them yet and they're bound to be unhappily surprised by them. That or the newly opened roads will bring new mischief. Whichever happens first, even he can't guess. Still, all that's left to do is shake his head and decide to worry about it when he's actually back in England.

"Maybe he put it there ages ago and never got back to it or maybe he just knew where to look. Doesn't much matter now, though, does it?"

"It doesn't. After all, the passage didn't say anything about another moss oak being there."

But it still offers so many questions. What other artifacts from faerie would people discover? Were there other artifacts in the first place? How long did it sleep there, underneath the muck of the bog? The book, in all of it's roundabout way of explaining things, didn't tell Strange shit.

"I also found out a few other things from our world," he explains. "What happened to Drawlight after Venice, what happened in England when I was in the peninsula, things of that sort." The perks of doing the library equivalent of googling yourself.

So like most of the books in this place, Childermass would have to agree.

Drawlight coming up, however, catches his attention more than the other little facts Strange has come across. He had never mentioned the man's fate, outside of never getting the letter he was meant to deliver. The box, yes, but the rest? Not at all. Overall, he's not sure he wants to know every detail of Drawlight's death (mostly because he doesn't care), though he still finds a spot against a bookcase to lean and cross his arms, giving the other magician a curious look as he does.

"You never did ask why he never got that letter to me," he'll muse aloud, "And so I did not bother to say."

"Truth be told, I thought he was simply incompetent." Never speak ill of the dead is apparently something Strange doesn't believe in. But, it makes sense. After all, it's not like Strange actually likes Drawlight. Of course the man would do something silly. The idea that Childermass never received the letter because Drawlight got murdered never crossed Strange's mind.

"By the way, you won't have to worry about Lascelles when you return to England." Because does Childermass know what happened to him? Strange doesn't really have a clue. So, might as well tell him that part of the story while they're all playing catch-up. "The same fairy that kidnapped Arabella and enthralled Lady Pole disposed of him."

Which is a clinical way of saying 'turned him into porcelain and then shattered him into pieces' but it'll have to do.

"Unfortunately for him, he thought to trust one of the most untrustable of men," Childermass says, shrugging because he, too, isn't all that torn up about Drawlight eating dirt. At best, he can be annoyed the letter never got to him and that's it. Though if they're going to be speaking of Lascelles, he's going to go searching his pockets for a cigarette, thanks.

"I had been wondering what became of that wretch, however. I would have thought he would leave the abbey with the rest of the staff but, of course, why would he take advice from lesser people..." Asshole. At least everyone else (save the magicians) escaped. "...ah, here." There's his pack of cigarettes. He looks up again after finding them. "He must have gotten lost, still looking to shoot me, if he managed to run into the fairy of all people."

Edited (changing a word b/c lascelles isn't actually an idiot just a massive pos) 2018-05-18 14:07 (UTC)

"It didn't help that I had to rework Norrell's labyrinth spell somewhat to actually gain access to Hurtfew." Meaning that Lascelles was most likely double lost. Strange shakes his head slightly, giving Childermass a dark little chuckle. The whole situation's a bit funny, in an absolutely morbid way.

"I don't know who he was more scared of in the end: myself or the fairy." A pause. "Considering he tried to shoot him, probably the fairy. Though I doubt Lascelles truly understood the danger he was in." That asshole.

"The only counsel he ever kept is his own, no matter how out of his depths he was," Childermass can easily agree with that. The man was an endless source of misery for the entire household (save Norrell, much to their great misfortune) and knowing he's gone for good gives him some sense of victory, bitter as it might be. He came out ahead after all.

While he may not chuckle over it, he will smirk some. It isn't at all a kind expression. Then he's getting his cigarette out and holding it up.

"Don't suppose you have a light?"

He probably has a lighter on him somewhere but Strange jumps at any opportunity to use magic for stupid little things. May as well take advantage of that.

Given the opportunity to show off and use magic for stupid little things, Strange is 100% going to show off and use magic for stupid little things. Strange snaps his fingers and a small flame hovers above them for a moment. He reaches over towards Childermass, lights the cigarette, then moves his hand to his side as the flame snuffs out.

"Still, I suppose the consequences of his ignorance makes your life back in England easier. I'm certain there are still...devotees?" No, that's the wrong word, and the little frown on Strange's face shows it. "I'm certain there are still people that either subscribe to my way of thinking or Norrell's. At least you've got one of the more vocal and odious ones out of the way."

He's going to use the mirror and break his curse, but that doesn't change the fact that there are all these magicians in England who've taken up one side or another—and that most likely, they all annoy the hell out of Childermass.

Just bringing them up has Childermass rolling his eyes and taking one hell of a long drag off of the cigarette, though not before he at least gives Strange a nod of thanks for the light. Of all the things he doesn't want to think about, factions of magicians back home are certainly near the top of the list. For all the work he's willing to put into English magic, he is, perhaps, seeing why Mr. Norrell had been so adamant about there being no other magicians, even as necessary as they are...

"There are," he answers after, "Some for you, some for Mr. Norrell, all wary towards me for one reason or another. Save a few, of course. Had Lascelles survived, I have no doubt he would be inciting the Norrellites to ignore me completely."

Very likely worse, but it isn't to be and so he won't dwell on that.

Edited 2018-05-23 19:00 (UTC)

"Had Lascelles survived, the Strangites would welcome your company," he teases, either ignoring or oblivious to the fact that some of the magicians who followed Strange's line of thinking have plenty of reasons to ignore Childermass. But, it's obvious from the roll of his eyes that Childermass isn't too fond of the topic. So, Strange shifts it slightly.

"I wonder...Norrell and I shall return to England at some point, but there might be enough time for other magicians to pop up and start their own camps. I wonder who those might be?"

Strange has a few people he'd place money on. But a: this is a good conversation shift and b: he wants to hear Childermass's thoughts on the matter.

It's a good topic to switch to, one that Childermass has to think on for a bit. That means more smoking and an honest hope the Curator and the Scribe didn't see fit to rig the place with smoke detectors. Considering the decor, probably not. His gaze does wander as he thinks, as he really is mulling it over, but it inevitably returns to Strange.

"Starecross will certainly become one," he can put that much forth for sure. He cannot think a school would not fall into its own faction, even if students later peel off to their own beliefs. "Mr. Segundus and Mr. Honeyfoot do not apply one faction or another to themselves and it would be their school, after all."

Now that there's no Norrell to stop them, anyway.

"Can't think of any other specific magicians who may just yet, though. I suppose the government may try their hand at recruiting their own or even just the military, considering how you managed in the peninsula."

He sounds less enthusiastic about those ideas than he does the school. At least, as far as someone like Childermass can sound enthusiastic.

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