⇨ THE ATHENAEUM

[ringleaders]

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.

Comments

[whattaprick]

After a moment's consideration, Lambert just ... huffs, sitting his ass right down in the pass of grass and rock by the overlook so he's facing into the valley, instead of looking at Childermass when he answers. The drop-off is dizzying, looking directly down, but the height doesn't bother him.

"Not all of use, but enough. It's called 'the Law of Surprise,'" he drawls. "They say it means you're marked by destiny." He says it bitterly, scowling out at the beautiful scenery as though it's done him a personal offense.

"Sounds nice, doesn't it? Until you realize they never said it was a good destiny."

[atouts]

"So what happens if the first thing at home to greet someone is a dog? Or a lamp?"

Childermass ends up stepping over and dropping down to take a seat in the grass right next to Lambert. Seeing as he's literally a bird so often these days, heights can't even begin to worry him anymore.

"I'm not sure a destined lamp sounds as appealing as a destined child." That's about it for his attempt at a joke, for what it's worth. He's still looking around them, admiring the view, but he will add to that with, "Though I think if I must have a destiny, I'd rather hear it in a book."

Or his cards, as vague as they can be at times.

[whattaprick]

"Hah." That does get a smirk out of Lambert, even if it won't entirely lighten his mood. "I asked that once and got stuck running extra laps of the Gauntlet for a month. I think most witchers who don't end up with a kid to take just sell what they get at the next market."

Now that he's looking at Childermass, he notices where his gaze falls, and his grin becomes a little more genuine. "Beautiful view, isn't it? This was always my favorite spot. Took ages to get up, though."

This really must be a book about him, then. It's a weird thought. He'd always wanted more recognition, but it's not like the parts of his life he wanted written down in a book where what Childermass saw just now. The thought's enough to draw a shadow over his expression, lips tightening again.

[atouts]

That earns a snort, though whether it's an offended one or an amused one is up to debate.

"That's no destiny if so," Childermass points out. If it were, it'd be a child every time. Still, there isn't much else to say on the matter, considering the chances of Lambert wanting to dwell on it a slim to none. That means the view becomes the new topic, despite how mundane that is. That means taking a moment to consider it all over again.

"It is..." At least he can admit what he was thinking earlier now. "We do have mountains back home but nothing like this. I've never seen them so tall."

[whattaprick]

"They wanted somewhere they couldn't be found, I guess. Not that it worked out for them, in the end. Here, hold out your arm." Lambert shifts closer to Childermass, taking his arm and sighting down it as he talks.

"Should be over... there. That gap between those two ridges, you see that? That's the only way into this valley. The snows completely block that pass in the winter."

[atouts]

Lambert, he can look without needing an arm as a pointer, he really can. Not that he complains when the witcher takes his arm and aims it towards the pass, humoring it instead and just looking really hard in that direction for the pass. The two ridges he can see, so he can assume there is a way between them there. It's a far way to look, though, and—

"Damn, I keep forgetting that." Childermass moves to pull his arm away, intending to search the many pockets of the coat they'd given him back on the moon (it's since become a replacement for the one wrecked at Heartstone). "I have a spyglass somewhere here..."

[whattaprick]

Lambert lets him take his arm back, glancing around instead. The other problem with this ridge is that it tends to attract monsters ... though on that thought, he can’t help but laugh, nudging Childermass in the side.

“Would you rather look through it through a glass, or would you rather fly?”

[atouts]

He'll pause in his search to look up, skeptical of the whole suggestion.

"I would but the last thing anyone needs is you stripping in a library." In a book or no, they are still, technically, out in public. Lambert, c'mon. "Unless you've finally mastered transforming your pants?"

[whattaprick]

“I’m talkng about you,” Lambert shakes his head. “You turn into a giant bird now, don’t you?” His fangs flash in a grin as he leans forward, eyes gleaming. “Were you ever going to tell me about that?”

[atouts]

Ah, that. Childermass had wondered if anyone would bring that up again or write it off as a Harbinger-given ability. He could just as easily claim it was, but to what end? There's no reason to hide what he can do from Lambert and the witcher isn't like to believe him over it.

"I can," he admits, remaining still as Lambert leans closer. He does raise an eyebrow at that grin, though. "And eventually, yes. I hadn't expected to use it much at all, to be honest. It isn't very subtle." Monsters typically aren't. "Don't tell me you think I should carry you around."

[whattaprick]

“Why not?” Lambert wants to know. “Looked strong enough for it. Might be handy to know if you actually can, in case we ever need it.”

There are very few situations where becoming a giant crow monster would be a more efficient alternative to moving away through shadows, but he still wants to know.

“... You don’t usually have a problem with me riding you.” Okay, and he wanted the chance to make a crass joke too.

[atouts]

Childermass is reluctant, that much is obvious, if only for the fact that it opens the gates to a variety of 'riding' and 'mount' jokes— and there, there it is. Lambert's already gotten to that point. Great. Not that he doesn't have a point (about knowing, not the other thing). For all the practice he did with the form all the way back on the moon, how it interacted with others wasn't a part of that.

Which means he lets out grumbling noise but says, "Fine. Move back."

[whattaprick]

Pleased to have won his concession, Lambert will do as he’s bid, but not before he leans in to give Childermass a swift, fleeting kiss. Out here, that dark night is easier to forget, and Lambert would like nothing more. He moves away to give Childermass room, unwilling to be knocked off by a stray wing, and waits.

“Go on then.” Well, waits not very patiently. No doubt that’s predictable, too.

[atouts]

No point in standing if he's about to have four legs (well, two legs and some wings, to be precise). Childermass remains where he's seated, closing his eyes so he can focus outward on gathering his magic around himself and picturing the form he wants than letting the view and the sunlight and everything distract him. Again, the transformation is almost as quick as it is with his smaller, normal crow form, though the shift is clearer than just a flicker of shadows. Feathers grow, bursting out of cloth and not only skin as he changes those to match. Talons grow larger, sharper, and shadows gather to twist his shape into something massive.

In this book's world, Lambert's world, it would not be out of the question for a witcher to assume they're dealing with a new kind of griffin, albeit one with a massive crow's head and not some twisted mishmash of a chicken and god knows what. Bird legs instead of a beast's, a serrated beak, claws forming at the major joints of his wings rather than having four legs altogether. It's not unlike what ambushed them in that Portland alley, behind the coffee shop, from what seems like forever ago.

He shakes his glossy black feathers out and pushes himself up, balancing on legs and wingtips. With a quiet, inquisitive croak, he cocks his head so he can eye Lambert. Well?

[whattaprick]

Lambert’s medallion hums with the transformation but he watches it with wide eyes, trying to follow the shape of his body as it twists into a new shape. It does resemble a griffin, it’s the first thing he thinks of when he sees it finally form, ugly and strangely beautiful at the same time.

“Well, you’re not winning any beauty contests.” The witcher chuckles, reaching out to bury his hands in the ruff around the bird’s neck, lightly scratching up and through the feathers. “Let’s see what you can do.”

It takes them a few tries to find a seat for the witcher that’s comfortable for Lambert and Childermass both, as well as one that lets the magician take flight without getting a wing kicked. When they finally, eventually take wing, though?

It’s incredible. Lambert laughs wildly as they soar through the air, away from whatever story the book may be trying to get them to play out below. In the path he indicated, figures on horses look up and point at them in alarm, but they’re well away from the range of any crossbow bolt, so Childermass is free to fly as much as he wants, skimming over the lake while Lambert shouts out points of interest including both scenery and local monsters. As they skirt around the ruins of Kaer Morhen, he goads the magician into going faster, as high as he can go.

The book’s scenery can’t keep up. As they clear a cloudbank, they’ll suddenly find themselves bursting back into the Athenaeum instead, into one of the cavernous, book-lined atriums that dot its architecture.

[atouts]

If only birds could roll their eyes...

In any case, after trial and error and finally taking off, Childermass is happy enough to glide closer to wherever Lambert points out. If giving a giant bird monster a tour of a valley gets his mind off the previous chapter of this book, he can't really judge that. It's almost a shame when they pass over the mountains and straight out of the book's valley itself. From a gorgeous vista to endless rows of books. Even with how far Childermass has come with becoming a bookworm in his own right, the mountains would have still been preferable.

Not that he can complain now. He'll find their way over the library stacks, doing his best to avoid hitting pillars or lamps hanging overhead, but inside is somewhat more difficult. He cranes his head down, searching for a place to land, somewhere open, and it's almost as if that thought alone triggers yet another scene. They go from mountainous valley to the Athenaeum and then straight on into a span of grey, cold skies, a rocky landscape crossed with dirt roads and scant green grass, trees with barely any leaves. Childermass recognizes it immediately, somewhere out near Hurtfew, and the noise he makes is less heard than felt as a rumble through his chest.

Well, he has to land sometime, and so he begins to descend.

[whattaprick]

They descend into territory that’s most certainly not the library — but not anywhere Lambert recognizes, either. His fingers curl into feathers, but there’s nothing for it but to trust Childermass knows where he’s headed, or what he’s doing. He’s realized by now that the magician can’t talk in this form, but as they get closer to the ground, he still has to ask:

“Where are we?”

cw: dead bodies, mentions of hanging from hereon out

[atouts]

"Northern England," Childermass answers, turning back in a flicker of shadows and shifting mass. Feathers meld back into clothing, same as ever, not even ruffled by the flight. He'll look around them again, spotting a familiar horse idling and picking at grass not too far off.

Beyond that, a gnarled grey tree with twisting branches bared by the oncoming chill and bearing one very unseemly fruit. Which is to say no fruit at all but the silhouette of a body strung up by the neck.

"Not far off from the abbey, actually. I know this story. It's one of mine."

[whattaprick]

From the witcher’s world to the magician’s. Lambert should be grateful for the chance to see some of this ‘England’ Strange is forever waxing sentimental about ... if there was much of anything to see. In contrast to the saturated brightness of Kaer Morhen in riotous spring, this seems washed out and gray, which seems about right for a story Childermass claims.

“Is it?” The witcher follows Childermass’s gaze over to the horse and the hanging body, and he frowns. Not out of any real concern — hanging bodies are hardly something to shock him — but because he’s not certain if that’s a good thing or a bad.

“At least you know this one already. Ought to make things easier.” Not that that’s strictly true, of course. After all, Lambert knew his, and that didn’t help any.

[atouts]

"It should," Childermass agrees and immediately turns to walk off towards the tree. "It's not any more complicated than cutting him down from the tree before he really does die."

Which will complicate things a little, seeing how Childermass remembers how this actually went very differently. To him, it only makes sense Vinculus was never dead to begin with. How else would he have suddenly sat up, alive and well, if he hadn't simply been mistaken? Only the thing is, when they do reach the tree, there is absolutely no doubt that this man here is extremely dead, a rope made from the woven branches of the tree itself the root cause.

[whattaprick]

Up to the tree they ride, and Lambert can’t help but frown when they get there. Because that man looks pretty damn dead to him — he can’t hear any soft struggles for breath or see even the barest twitch of movement.

What does catch his attention is what the man has been hanged by.

“Did this poor bastard piss off some fae, too?” he asks, already unsheathing his sword in preparation to cut him down. “Because this doesn’t look like a human did it.”

[atouts]

"Something like that," Childermass says, stopping at the tree to look up and, similar to Lambert, frown. He knows Vinculus had seemed so dead before and he seems that way now, but... He won't bother reaching for a knife, though that's how he got him down before. A sword is bound to have an easier time, though, so he steps aside and stands ready to pull the body down once it's free (rather than letting him fall).

"I'm not sure that part of the story matters, however. Just that I find him."

[whattaprick]

It’s a task Lambert is pretty well suited for, at least. Since the poor bastard is dead, he isn’t going to bother being gentle about chopping through the branch in a motion that sends the body dropping into Childermass’s arms. Leaning over to examine him for signs for life, his lips curl back into a sneer at the rankness and general look of him.

“Who is he? Another magician?” The skepticism in his voice suggests he very much doubts it, but he also can’t comprehed any other reason Childermass would care for someone like this.

[atouts]

"In a way. Vinculus is the madman who told Strange to become a magician," Childermass answers, knowing he's described that particular man to Lambert before. He manhandles the body down once down and drags him further down the hill, away from the tree. Though once there and laid out on the grass, that Childermass kneels down and moves to unbutton Vinculus' dirty, threadbare shirt is probably more worrisome than the entire dead thing.

Although the reason why may be apparent enough once that's done, seeing how Vinculus' entire chest seems to be covered in writing, blue ink etched directly into every inch of skin. To head off what he suspects in an impending question, he adds, "He also happens to be the Raven King's book."

[whattaprick]

Lambert has to pause to think that over, pawing back through more pleasant memories of an afternoon wasted to the serious conversation that came before.

“So when you said you had to rely on the memory of a complete lush for the prophecy...” He frowns, bending down to examine the man’s skin, and incidentally, put a hand to his chest to determine how long it’s been since the man died. The symbols are all alien to him. “You can’t read this off him?”