lostcarnival | [closed] hello darkness my old friend

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[closed] hello darkness my old friend

Who: Strange & Syrlya
Where: their trailer
When: evening of Day 52
What: surprise, Strange is kind of cursed.

Strange makes it a point to get back to their trailer before Syrlya after dinner. It helps that he didn't really eat much to begin with. His mind's swimming with potentials of the mirror, aspects of a spell he's working on, and the faint hope that's growing even stronger that maybe, just maybe this Silver Mirror would be able to break the curse he was under.

So, when Syrlya arrives, Strange is sitting at his desk chair, idly tapping a pencil on the edge of the desk while staring off into space slightly. It's only when the door opens that Strange looks over and blinks back to attention.

"Syrlya," Strange says, with a nod. More and more people know of his curse but a part of Strange still feels intensely awkward talking about it on something like a public radio channel. He'll talk around it, of course, but it's a bit too personal and the story's a bit too long for everybody to know. "I believe I owe you an explanation."

His face plainly says that this isn't going to be much of a happy story.

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"Shouldn't you figure out the nature of your curse before you attempt to throw solutions at it?"

Syrlya knows exactly how catastrophic pursuing a solution without understanding the problem is. Of course, what's happening to Strange is on a much more personal scale, but magic is volatile and he can think of a dozen horrible ways Strange could make this worse on himself.

Which is exactly why he's looking at Strange so sternly. He likes him enough to not want to see him blow himself up. "Otherwise, you are doing little more than guessing."

Strange is taking this an entirely different way than what Syrlya's thinking. Of course Syrlya doesn't think he can do it. It's not his fault that his magic keeps being rebuffed by things like the Void and the fae in general. But this is an opportunity where he's certain nothing would get in his way or stop his magic. Of course he'd take it.

He's matching Syrlya's stern look with a defiant one of his own. Screw everybody else, Strange knows he can do this.

"I know enough about the nature of the curse. It surrounds me in perpetual darkness, it's targeted to a vague term, and it's preventing me from returning back to England. Besides, I can identify magic. Combining my magic with the magic of the Mirror should make this easy."

"That is assuming that your curse and the darkness that the mirror manipulates are the same form!" He gestures wide in the air before pulling off the door and walking closer to where Strange is seated. "The only sort of darkness we have mention that the mirror has control over has to do with the spirit."

He presses his hand against the desk, leaning sideways as he puts his other hand on his hip. "And if what you need is a catalyst, there are many forms of that that are not as dangerous and untested as the miracles."

"And what's the likelihood we'll run into one of those catalysts? I've got less than five months left at the carnival, the miracles might be my only chance." Never mind the fact that taking up another contract is technically an option. Strange isn't even considering that at the moment.

He's still sitting, a wiry bundle of tenseness, as Strange looks up at Syrlya. "And honestly you, of all people, have no right to judge me on this matter. You took up the Blue Rose without even an idea of what it could do!"

"My contract was for a catalyst! Do you really believe the Ringmaster cannot find another one?"

Syrlya grits his teeth, pointing at the back of his head. "There was no choice, and you saw what it did! You want to use it with purpose without a full understand of it or your curse, and that is going to get you killed if not worse!"

He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I am not judging you, I am warning you to take more care instead of deciding to use an artifact more powerful than any of our standards before you know if it is even going to work."

"I'd have to contract her for that—and before you ask, that isn't an option."

Despite the fact that it seems a bit nonsensical, Strange sounds firm on that point. No more contracts for him. He's still scowling but he's looking away from Syrlya for the moment.

"I don't care how much it changes me," he grumbles. "I can turn into smoke, I'm already inhuman enough as is. And I don't care if it kills me. I've worked out an arrangement with the Ringmaster so I have an egg like Sans did. All I care about is breaking the curse."

"And is Arabella going to care?"

That's a low blow, Syrlya knows. Whatever their relation, he obviously cares about her enough to have being with her forefront to his curse-breaking situation. But it's obvious attempting to reason against him being stupid about it is failing.

Syrlya's expression is utterly unimpressed, but he still waits for an answer.

That is such a low blow. And Strange briefly looks like he's going to haul off and punch Syrlya then and there, that's how low a blow this is. But he refrains: instead, he just tenses up even more, digging his claws into the palms of his hands while trying to keep a semblance of his cool.

"She'd care that we would be together," Strange points out, still seething and trying his hardest to not do something stupid. "That's what matters the most."

Because yep: Arabella would hate it if Strange got himself killed or made himself more inhuman just for the sake of trying to bring them back together.

So either Strange is convincing himself or this Arabella is equally as ridiculous about taking the most dramatic and reckless means possible.

"Fine." Syrlya narrows his eyes, pushing off the desk. "Blight yourself by being so foolish, then. It'll be your consequences."

As if Syrlya and other members of the carnival won't try and bail him out anyway, because they don't actually want to see Strange blow himself up with magic. But, well, he won't admit that in his frustration.

As Syrlya pushes off the desk, Strange stands up, to better see him eye to eye. None of them understood. Not Childermass and not Syrlya...he can only imagine the rest of the carnival would chide him for being foolish as well.

"Foolish would be letting someone else try. We both know that out of all the magicians in the carnival, I'm the one best equipped to wield the Silver Mirror and I'm the one most likely to figure out what it can do."

At least, Strange is certain he the one best equipped to wield it, due to his affinity for reflections and the fact that he's wielded a ton of magic before.

"The best--" Syrlya looks at Strange, incredulous, eyebrows raising.

"I'm sorry, is that what you think? That you deserve to do as you please with the mirror because... what, because you use mirrors as a focus more than anyone else?" He sounds doubtful.

"You have absolutely no idea the amount of power and danger in those artifacts. There is a reason we are not experimenting with the Blue Rose further."

"The reason we aren't experimenting with the Blue Rose any further is because of what happened to Steven. And, if I may be frank, I suspect part of that is due to Steven himself over the Blue Rose."

Having a conversation with Steven that basically boiled down to Steven admitting that yeah, he doesn't know how his magic works sometimes, has definitely shaped Strange's thoughts on this matter.

"We need to study and experiment with it, just as we need to study and experiment with the Mirror." Just ignore the fact that Strange wants to experiment on himself. "How else are we going to use them?"

"Do you think the Ringmaster is collecting these for our use, or hers?" That's part of his hesitation in pursuing them. They're trusting someone already extremely more powerful than them to keep multiple powerful magical objects that they can barely equip themselves.

"If there is anyone you have to convince to allow you to use it, it is her."

"Can't we be collecting them for both of our benefits?"

The more they talk, the more Strange is calming down, going from 'pissed and ready to haul off and punch Syrlya' to 'just pissed.' He's still sulking, still a bit angry about all this, but no longer the bundle of energy ready to fight everything that he was a few minutes ago.

"And I'll convince the Ringmaster once we have the item in question. I just wanted to explain to you why I need to use the Mirror in the first place."

Strange's insistence only causes Syrlya to believe less and less that he should wield the mirror. Pride with ignorance is a dangerous combination, but Syrlya's more worried about his refusal for alternatives.

He looks unaffected by Strange's sulking, brow pinched critically as he regards him. "You do not need to use the mirror, you do not have enough of a plan for that. You just want to."

It's a dangerous combination of Strange's normal arrogance, impulsiveness, and complete lack of a regard for his own safety mixed with a burning desire to break his curse and see Arabella again.

"I need to have my curse broken. If we had another option, I'd take it." At least, he thinks he'd take it. "But the mirror's the best chance I've seen yet."

"I understand that. But be careless enough and I promise you, you will find a fate worse than your curse." Syrlya continues looking at him coldly for a moment... and then he lets out a sigh and his shoulders sag a little.

Strange isn't seeing the severity and the lack of foundry his plan has. Syrlya doesn't intend to sit back and watch him hurt himself over it, if it comes to it. But trying to prevent it to begin with is proving to be a lost cause.

He shakes his head, turning on his heels to go for the door.

"I'm not careless," Strange grumbles, as Syrlya heads for the door. He's got various half-formed plans on how to interact with the mirror itself. Strange just needs to finagle out one of them into some actual plan. "Besides, we still need to find the damn thing."

He'll let Syrlya leave. After all, they live together. They'll run into each other again soon enough.

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[closed] hello darkness my old friend

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