if we just stay together it'll be alright

[whattaprick]

Who: Lambert & Peridot and dead weight
Where: The Carnival
When: After Elysium.
What: An inglorious homecoming.

All things considered, everything in Elysium went a lot better for Lambert than his last encounter with True Fae, but he doesn't feel much better for it. He knows that they've only deferred their biggest problems for now -- if nothing else, the experience was a painful highlight of exactly how persistent the Ringmaster's enemies are, and they've still got their lost workers to recover -- but he can, at least, take care of one.

After everything, their return is almost anticlimactic: turn one corner, and then another, and then the Carnival entrance is there, where it was lost to shadows before. When they step through to the Carnival, and nothing follows them, Lambert isn't going to bother hiding the way his shoulders sag in relief. Rather than heading to the medical tent, though, where the Doctor might or might not be ...

"Can you bring him to my trailer?" he asks, turning to the dragon beside him. He doesn't expect her to answer him with a full mouth, but he imagines if she's tired of playing pack horse already, she'll make it known. "If not, I'll carry him the rest of the way."

Comments

[periphrasing]

When Lambert comes back, it's not immediately obvious if Peridot is actually asleep or just resting. She's huddled up in the corner with her knees drawn up, her head on her knees, and her tail wrapped around herself. Her ears prick up when he enters, and she looks up at him blearily.

"Hmm," she grunts, blinking a few times in quick succession. "Any news?"

She doesn't expect much, but. It feels wrong not to at least ask.

[whattaprick]

Lambert shakes his head. "Ringmaster's not back yet." A beat. "Ran into Amethyst, though. She seemed fine. I told her to keep patrolling, but not much else."

He looks at her, trying to gauge if that was the right response or not, but it mostly affirms that Peridot's in no shape to deal with anyone right now. "You want to take a break? I can sit with him for a bit."

[periphrasing]

"It's just sitting, Lambert. It's not exactly difficult," Peridot snorts, apparently offended by the mere implication that this might be too much for her. Although she adds: "...Not that I'm going to stop you from sitting with him. If you want to."

She ain't judging.

"And um... Thanks. For passing that message on to Amethyst for me. I know I could have just radioed her but..."

She trails off. She can't exactly explain why she doesn't want to talk to anyone else right now, it's just a feeling that she has that she can't easily put into words.

[whattaprick]

"It's fine." Lambert does, in fact, want to sit with Childermass... so he'll pull up another chair facing across Peridot, where he can easily glance between her and the magician at the same time. He won't do anything so sappy as reach out and hold his hand or anything like that, but it's reassuring just to reaffirm that he's here. Not gone, not taken.

His gaze turns to Peridot again, watching her struggle with it.

"Sometimes you need time to sort things out for yourself." He pauses. "I told her you were busy. Figured you could talk to her when you're ready."

[periphrasing]

Peridot just sort of grunts softly in a noncommittal way. She's more focused on watching the way the witcher is sitting next to the magician, cocking her head and watching both them curiously. There's a question on the tip of her tongue, but she's not entirely comfortable with asking it.

"Sssso... You two. Are you..." She kind of. Jerks her head lightly to one side in what she hopes is some sort of meaningful motion?

[whattaprick]

Unlike Peridot, Lambert doesn't need to be bashed over the head to take a hint (sometimes). He looks at her, then back at Childermass a little longer, visibly taking the time to think the question over before he answers.

And all at once, Lambert decides he's tired. Tired of being quiet about it, tired of having it wrested out for other people to gawk at without either of them getting a say about it. For once, he's got a chance to actually decide who gets to know and when, and Peridot deserves better than an evasion.

"Yeah," he says finally, simply, exhaling, and meeting Peridot's eyes as steadily as he can. "We're--"

And then he runs into another problem, because for as much as they've had, they've also never talked about what they have. More than sex, that much is obvious. Together? Lovers? Sworn to each other? Even in his head, he cringes away at all of them, if only because he imagines Childermass would laugh at every one he chose. The longer the pause drags on, the deeper the flush on his cheeks gets, until the silence becomes unbearable.

"Fucking," Lambert blurts, finally. "We're fucking."

[periphrasing]

That answer earns him an incredibly awkward moment of Peridot staring at him uncomfortably. 'Together' would have absolutely been acceptable, Lambert! She doesn't need to know how carnal your relationship is!

After the initial shock wears off, though, her expression splits into a grin, all sharp white teeth and purple gums. And it's not even a shitty grin; it's a grin that's absolutely genuine, and full of warmth and excitement. Despite everything that has gone wrong in the last 24 hours, and all the exhaustion and worry she's been feeling, this news is invigorating in a way she never would have expected. Because while Lambert may not be comfortable calling it anything other than 'fucking', she's already seeing that it's more than that... And that makes her incredibly happy.

"I knew it," she cackles gleefully, planting her hands on the floor in front of her and leaning forward eagerly. "I knew I got that Percy and Pierre vibe from you both! I almost doubted it, I mean you were so eager to avoid the topic and distance yourself after the ritual in Portland, but-- This is the most excellent and logical conclusion! You two complement each other so well; you make a near perfect team!"

[whattaprick]

Who the fuck are Percy and Pierre, Lambert wants to know, but a look at Peridot’s broad grin tells him he’s better off not feeding any into weird conspiracy theories. Still, ‘complement each other so well’? ‘A near perfect team‘? That makes him crack a smirk, then finally laugh, looking away.

“We fight all the time,” he points out. Not exactly the stuff of romantic daydreams there, not by a long shot. Even so, there’s something nice about hearing someone say so out loud. No skepticism, no “why you?” — just an unequivocal acceptance and more enthusiasm than Lambert expected. It’s flustering ... but there is something that needs to be said.

“Nobody else really knows.” Yuya, Rita, and Cole do, but Cole is a massively creepy spirit and the other two are children and furthermore weren’t told voluntarily so they don’t really count. “So, ah, don’t go spreading it around? I would have said something but he’s kind of ... private.”

[periphrasing]

So she alone now knows this super secret information? That just sweetens the pot! She nods enthusiastically, and winks at him. "Your secret's safe with me. Believe it or not, I can actually be very discreet when I need to be."

[whattaprick]

Yeah, the 'she alone' part isn't exactly true, but she's the first person Lambert's actually told himself, so that's special enough. Even if that winking doesn't exactly give Lambert a lot of faith that he won't wake up tomorrow and find out the whole carnival knows about them, but Lambert can't bring himself to mind too much right now.

"Thanks." He gives her a slightly less sardonic smile, and though he won't reach out and hold Childermass's hand or anything like that, he'll stay close for a while, until duty or some other aspect of nightrunner business inevitably calls him away again. It'll be like that for the rest of the night -- at one point, he'll even lapse into a meditative trance just to replenish some energy -- but though the magician's condition doesn't change one bit, there's at least some relief to be found in knowing there's someone who can understand why this matters to Lambert.

Then early in the morning, the Ringmaster returns, and Lambert can't stay. He sets out a healing draught with instructions for Peridot to offer it to Childermass if he wakes, touches his fingers to the magician's shoulder once, looking down at him.

And then he's gone.

[periphrasing]

Peridot will stay put for that time, knowing she needs to be on hand to take over watch whenever Lambert has to leave. She doesn't mind, of course; the thought of going back to her trailer is too depressing to bear right now anyway, and the job of staying here feels even more important, knowing what she knows now.

While the hours pass, she makes sure to fill Lambert in on the details of the other fae encounter she had before the Elysium happened. She's not sure what the book that Frost and Nightshade were arguing over even was, but if Lambert is going to talk to the Scribe and the Curator, perhaps they might have some way of being able to tell?

Once the witcher takes his leave, Peridot takes up post nearby to where Childermass is sleeping. Exhaustion is quick to catch up with her, though, and it's easy for her to start journeying back into those dark places of anxiety about her friends in the long stretch of silence that follows the nightrider's departure. She lasts for all of 15 minutes before she caves and steals one of Lambert's blankets to make herself a nest in the unused window seat nearby.

Whenever the magician finally wakes up, she'll still be in that exact spot, zonked out on her back with a look of consternation on her sleeping face. Her limbs are ever so gracefully sprawling every which way, too, including having one foot up on the wall of the space the window seat is a part of, and her tail draped over the side of the bench so that it's trailing down onto the floor.

[atouts]

Essentially, that means Peridot will get a good two to three hours of sleep before she actually has to deal with anyone, that anyone being Childermass in particular. When he does finally wake up, it isn't with a start, a yell, or any real noise at all, save for a deeper intake of breath just before he opens his eyes. There won't be a whole lot of movement, either, as he stares at the trailer's ceiling long enough to figure out exactly where he is. It's one he's woken up to enough times by now. That sorted out, he'll look to Lambert's usual side of the bed first, where... there's no one.

Probably should have expected that, though if he's here and not the medical tent is, thankfully, enough of a tell that he won't start worrying just yet. Childermass won't linger on that for long, searching the rest of the room until he spots Peridot, of all people. Is this going to be after the manor all over again? Will the gem wake up, yell at him, menacingly hug a sword?

Only one way to find out.

"Peridot," he says, voice even more gravelly from sleep and a general lack of water. He'll push himself up, but only as far as to prop himself up on his elbows, sheets rustling with the movement. "Peridot, wake up."

Naptime's over.

[periphrasing]

He doesn't have to do much to rouse her. Calling her name a few times does the trick easily enough; her eyes shoot open with a start, and she sits bolt upright with a sharp inhale, and turns to look at him.

"Oh," Peridot says, blinking a few times, trying to get her brain to catch up with the rest of her. Her usually geometric looking hair is all fucked up in the back from the way she was laying, and it's not a great look. "...OH. Stars-- You're awake--" She scrambles down off the window seat, snatches up the healing draught that Lambert left behind, scurries over to Childermass, and... awkwardly holds it out for him to take.

[atouts]

That's probably one of Lambert's but that doesn't mean Childermass is going to reach out and take it. Sorry, Peridot. Instead, he'll eye it for a second or two, then turn his attention back to her, raising an eyebrow in question.

"And that is...?"

[periphrasing]

"It--" Peridot looks flustered and annoyed. She just woke up too, Childermass, cut her some slack. "It's some sort of healing potion, I don't know. Lambert told me to give it to you when you woke up, I figured you'd know what it was."

[atouts]

Look, Childermass is groggy and uncertain what else has happened while he's been out and kind of sore, like someone's punched through his back all the way to his chest. He doesn't have to cut anyone any slack, thanks, though he will drop questioning it once Peridot answers.

"You just never know what he puts in those," he mutters, a little lamely, but after that, he makes the effort to sit up properly. There's minimal grumbling, minimal wincing. Overall, he seems fine. He hopes that's true. Then he'll reach out and take the potion from her, giving it a closer look.

"Ah. This is from the caravan."

Well, at least that means it isn't 85% alcohol. Fine, fine, he'll open the bottle and drink it.

[periphrasing]

While he's doing that, Peridot stands there awkwardly for a moment before she thinks to give him some space and goes to take a seat in the empty chair. There's something inherently sort of uncomfortable about the present situation; she has no lingering beef with Childermass (despite any arguments they may have had in the past), but standing around in a private, one-on-one setting like this while he's in a relatively vulnerable state feels more personal than she's accustomed to getting with a guy who takes great pains to be as closed-off as possible.

"So... That whole situation could have gone better," she says after a moment. She pauses a moment, then adds: "Uh. How are you feeling?"

[atouts]

He won't even down a full half of the potion before capping it again, handing it back for Peridot to put away somewhere a little more stable than a bed. It is pretty strange, isn't it? Though for his part, he... just won't treat it any differently. If she's here, Lambert asked her to be. That's good enough.

"Sore but that's all," he replies wearily, "And no, I doubt it could have. Although Jasper could have at least held back..."

After that, though, he pauses, looking around the trailer once more to no avail.

"Did Lambert already go back out there?"

[periphrasing]

"Jasper's an impulsive idiot," Peridot growls, ears flattening, and she certainly has more to say on that topic, but. More to the point: "He left a few hours ago. Took a team to go look for the Scribe and the Curator," she confirms, scowling lightly. "I would have gone with him but... Apparently you and I are both on the Count's hit list."

[atouts]

It wouldn't help to point out only she is. He, on the other hand, is a horrible bargaining chip, though that isn't any better. Still, Childermass grimaces at the thought, as he's like to do any time he has to think about the Count.

"As would I, but we both know that isn't happening. I think... I may remain on carnival grounds for the rest of this stop."

If only to give everyone else a tiny fraction of peace of mind. Anyway, he moves on from that topic (the Count is always a bad one) and onto one that is, naturally, another thing he doesn't see anywhere in the trailer. No Nightrider and no--

"Where did he put my shirt?"

[periphrasing]

Ah. Yes. That.

Without breaking eye contact, Peridot wordlessly points a claw in the direction of the wastebasket in the corner.

Sorry mate, that shirt is toast.

[atouts]

And Childermass looks where she's pointing, at the wastebasket, and frowns at it as though it's offended him somehow. He then looks down, reaching up to touch the bandages plastered over... over what? It's not as if anything feels very wound-like.

So, yeah, he's peeking under those. This only makes him frown even more.

"He wrecked my shirt for this?"

Unimpressed, clearly. Also throwing the sheets back and getting out of the bed altogether.

[periphrasing]

She gets up because he does, assuming some sort of action is about to take place that she should be on her toes for. "Um-- He seemed pretty urgent to make sure you were alright," Peridot tries to explain. "ThoughI suppose his motivations for that makes much more sense now..."

[atouts]

The action happens to be... Childermass setting the potion bottle aside and prying open one of Lambert's dresser drawers. Since Lambert divested him of a shirt, Lambert will be losing a shirt himself. It means pawing through a number of really awful t-shirts, pulling them up, shaking his head at them, and moving on to the next drawer.

"He could have just looked under it," he grumbles onward, though what else Peridot says gives him pause. He'll stop messing up the drawers (even more, assuming Lambert doesn't do things like 'fold laundry') and look back at her.

"His motivations. Which motivations would those be?"

He can guess but he's not going to confirm first.

[periphrasing]

Aw crap. She said that last part out loud, didn't she.

"Well-- You knoooowww," she says slowly, tapping her claws together and glancing away uncomfortably. "He told me how... Important, you are to him! Um."

Lambert probably doesn't care if Childermass knows that she knows, right? Gah. She should have checked with him before he left...