⇨ THE EPILOGUE

[ringleaders]

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 61
Where: The Carnival
What: After all the rescues team return, it will be matter of tending to the wounded and getting the hell out of dodge. The Ringmaster can handle the fleeing part, but someone will need to look after those in the medical tent. Or, maybe, you just want to show up and ask what the hell happened.
Warnings: Some messed up consequences of faerie fuckery.

IN REPAIR↴ As the minutes tick past, all four rescue groups will eventually return. Everyone in the carnival is encouraged to help out, ensuring that the rescues and victims both are taken care of after the fact. You can tag in here as rescuers taking care of business around the carnival, victims recovering, or other workers checking in to see what's going on. This log is for general aftermath threads, made by anyone.

Comments

[atouts]

Casual vandalism that certain magicians haven't even tried to remove, but that aside, Childermass stares a second or two longer, then just sighs and sits up a little straighter.

"I know that," he informs Lambert. He's well aware. Would it be that he wasn't but that can't be helped. "Worry about it later."

[whattaprick]

Lambert blinks, slowly. "Strange is dead." Whether that's supposed to be connected to the last thing out of his mouth or merely Lambert's brain spitting out information it's been hanging onto and lining up for the first moment of coherency it can get is uncertain.

And then he's struggling to sit up, which is more or less impossible with as many bandages as he's swathed in right now and his total lack of limb coordination. It doesn't stop him from trying.

"Where's Rita? Syrlya?" He says the names with the air of a fretful child, but if anyone would know the answer to that, it's Childermass. He knows things. That's what he does.

[atouts]

Even if Lambert's bound to fail at sitting up, Childermass still reaches out to stop him, resting a hand on his chest and leaving it there, pushing down slightly in hopes he gets the idea. Lay back already, idiot.

"They're fine," he answers, "They're the ones who dragged you back here."

Strange being dead doesn't even earn a reply, not even a blink. That, too, is something already known.

[whattaprick]

Covered in fae marks, Lambert's chest shudders under Childermass's hand, heart pounding with the surge of panic before he lets himself be pushed down -- or more accurately, is unable to resist the direction, however gentle.

"Good." He's too confused and disoriented to logically follow another with the other implications of that, for now, but he settles gradually. His gaze wanders, tracking up distractedly along the medtent ceiling, then back to Childermass like it's drawn by a magnet. The knitted furrow of his brow eases a little, just watching, and his next question's quiet.

"Did she kill him?"

[atouts]

"No, she did not," Childermass can only guess that from Herbert's conversation with her, but it was pretty obvious from what was said, so. "But it is causing some difficulties."

Like the Ringmaster being stuck as a massive dragon in a lake, like Strange's body being left out to rot in leftover acid for hours, like-- well, look, there's just a lot. Yeah, guess Childermass doesn't sound too happy about that, either, though he leaves his hand where he set it for now.

"And Rita and Syrlya are taking the brunt of everyone's anger in your place."

[whattaprick]

Under Childermass's hand, some undefinable tension Lambert's body was holding seems to unwind itself at the confirmation that Ignatius is alive, breath coming out in a hot, gusty sigh as he shuts his eyes.

The bit about people angry at Rita and Syrlya, though? That brings his frown right back to his face, expression scrunching up in confusion as he turns to look at the magician.

"That's wrong," he declares, words still slurred. He's got no idea what people are angry about, but it seems like that's a pretty incorrect state of things to be. People get mad at him, not his nightrunners.

"They were following orders."

[atouts]

"Rita prefers to argue differently," Childermass says, shrugging and finally taking his hand away from the witcher's chest. "Syrlya less so, though I imagine he has more sense and less temper than she does."

Still, they're the ones out there giving the news and taking the backlash. Not much to be done about that now.

[whattaprick]

"She would," Lambert snorts, breath rattling through his lungs. It might take a moment to realize that's supposed to be a laugh. "She was amazing ... when I got down there, Ignatius had a sword through him. Really wanted to kill him."

You don't have to sound so proud, Lambert. The amusement fades as quickly as summer showers, his breath catching.

"But we couldn't." His gaze rolls back up to the ceiling, expression thoughtful, voice distracted. "He did something to Strange and we couldn't..."

[atouts]

Childermass raises a hand, waving off the rest of what Lambert might be trying to say. He's... not surprised that he finds it funny, Rita wanting to get rid of Ignatius like that, nor can he himself really blame her for it. The rest, though, with Strange?

"I already know that, too." Or he knows enough, as Childermass is wont to do. "I sent Zangetsu after him for that reason. You tried to save him instead, didn't you?"

[whattaprick]

"I thought..." Lambert start-stops a couple of times with that, holding the pause longer, like he can't hold onto his train of thought. Was he thinking then, really? It's hard to remember, especially like this, something he was doing on complete instinct and immediate response to the moment. Strange had asked him to kill him. He'd promised. So why hadn't he?

"Thought I could be more than just a killer," he finishes out uncertainly, blinking, and turns his gaze away. He really doesn't want to see how disappointed Childermass has to be in that. "Turns out Strange makes a pretty good killer too."

He couldn't breathe. The memory of that alone is making his ears flatten in distress, the panic he hadn't felt then, as he finds he can't catch enough breath, like after some of his worse dreams.

[atouts]

Childermass is, as ever, not really well known for being a comforting sort of guy. If anything, he's always been the opposite, even when he does make that effort, and so here he's left being silent for a moment, considering his next move. It could be to scold Lambert for underestimating Strange. Could, but won't. Nor will it be judging him for not outright killing someone for once, even if his following actions were questionable...

So, no, what he does settle on doing is reaching out to take Lambert's closest hand in his own, giving it a slight squeeze. If others are watching, if others are eavesdropping, he won't even spare a look around to check. After everything else, it doesn't really matter.

"You can be, Lambert, just..." Well. Even in trying to comfort, he's still going to be honest. "Perhaps pick a better time for it. The only thing that's ever kept Strange from killing is his own morals and we both know these faeries have no use for those."

[whattaprick]

Of all the things Lambert was expecting, the touch of fingers against his own wasn’t it. It startled him into a deep breath, turning to Childermass with wide eyes — and entirely missing that scolding reproof, alas — as he clumsily clutches back. He doesn’t know what it means, but it feels like a lifeline to shore.

Morals, though...

“I wanted this to be different,” he croaks. He doesn’t know what Childermass already knows about what they did to Ignatius, is certain he wouldn’t like it because he’s not like Lambert, but it doesn’t matter. He needs to make sure he understands, if Rita and Syrlya haven’t already told him.

“To do something more than run. There isn’t a future in that. We—” a wave of dizziness presses down, but he pushes on. “We made him tell us things, but it wasn’t enough. He didnt know ... he didn’t believe the Summer Maiden.” He’s rambling now, sharp and stilted. “So we made him feel it. What we remembered — what it’s like to be hurt.”

[atouts]

"Whether he'll care or not is yet to be seen," Childermass says, eventually. He was quiet for a time after Lambert's attempt to explain it, what he was trying to do, and it isn't as though he can't grasp it himself, it's just this isn't how he would have done it personally. Then again, simply talking to these damn faeries hasn't worked. They don't care, they don't need to, how do you fight that?

But all he can offer in response is that. They won't know how it turns out until later. Could be it changed nothing at all. What it doesn't change is right now, though, and Childermass lets a hint of worry into his expression as he watches Lambert.

"It's just as likely the only thing he'll take away from this is to hate us, same as the Rose Queen does."

[whattaprick]

The quiet gives the witcher time to steady himself against slipping back into sleep. Despite the relative seriousness of the situation, somehow, the words still make Lambert grin wanly and refocus on the magician, fingers twitching against Childermass's grip.

"Well it sure isn't ... going to make him love us," he jokes weakly. "But I've never been good with that."

Making people love him, anyway. The one notable exception at his side notwithstanding.

[atouts]

And while that would make a great cue to say something nice about how that's obviously not true, that doesn't take into account who Lambert's talking to. That means Childermass just gives the witcher an unimpressed look and says, "Angry yelling does seem more your strength. Which, I imagine, means you won't be allowed to speak to him again."

[whattaprick]

That gets Childermass a crooked grin. Sappy isn't really their style, no, and Lambert's not really looking for a response like that anyway. That Childermass is here, beside him, instead of hidden in the shadows or watching from a distance ... that says a lot more than the magician ever could or would, even if he won't cop to it. That he's as unimpressed as ever is reassuring in a way, despite the worry from earlier.

"Probably not... considering she broke my ribs." Not to mention giving him that stunning concussion, which may or may not also be responsible for part of his disorientation at the moment.

[atouts]

"She did this?"

That's news to Childermass and he's not quite sure how to feel about it. That the Ringmaster didn't outright kill Lambert is telling, at least, was very likely her pulling her punch with him. Still...

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by it. Zangestu said she was upset with you even before she left the carnival."

[whattaprick]

"She hit me across the arena and told the place to keep me alive," Lambert explains, matter-of-factly. He remembers that much before he faded out at least, since she was narrating before he blacked out. It was weird. For as furious as she'd sounded, as furious as she looked, he'd expected that damn rebirth egg would get use in less than a month. He pauses, thinking back...

"I was pissed, I needed her to come do something about Ignatius, and I didn't want to waste a lot of time arguing about it." Well ... he did end up doing that much, in the end. From that perspective, he damn well succeeded.

"We weren't ... gonna get a chance like this again."

[atouts]

"You got what you wished, then," Childermass will say after a moment of silence, just looking at Lambert as he mulls over recent events. This could have gone better. He could tell himself that a dozen times but it won't change that things went as they did, for better or worse.

"Whatever happens now..."

He doesn't even know. What's next? Is Lambert's crazy plan worthwhile or just that, crazy? Futile? All the magician can do is shake his head some.

"We'll see. You should rest now." He can tell staying awake is a struggle all too easily. "I'll be here as much as I can be."

[whattaprick]

The witcher smiles, crookedly, and clumsily shifts his hand to squeeze the magician’s.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “Guess you’re stuck cleaning up after someone else again.”

[atouts]

"Somehow, I doubt I'll ever see the end of that," Childermass admits, at least trying to summon some goodwill and smile a little back at him. "Just try to stay out of any other messes while this one blows over."

[whattaprick]

“I’m glad you’re here,” is the witcher’s simple answer to that. He doesn’t get much more out — not does he get to clarify that he doesn’t just mean he’s happy Childermass is around to help with the fallout — before he drifts off, fingers growing slack in the magician’s hand.