lostcarnival | ⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

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⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

Who: Everybody!
When: Day 64
Where: The Camping Grounds
What: While the Ringmaster attempts to purge the carnival of magical tracing spells and deal with the angry fire fae in her belly, everyone else is getting sent on an emergency camping trip with some unusual local fauna.
Warnings: Camping.

CRYPTIC CAMPGROUNDS↴

You're given about three hours to prepare, after the Ringmaster tells you her plans for the coming week. There is a vast selection of camping equipment at your disposal, and the means to take along enough food for the length of the stay. The wilderness of the planet you're left on is nearly idyllic, but some people just don't like the great outdoors.

► CRYPTOZOOLOGY: As it turns out, the carnival won't be alone here. There is a varied ecosystem of cryptids to be found as well, living in relative peace and mostly reacting to the newcomers with curiousity. More details can be found on the plotting post. You are free to NPC the cryptids as much as you need to, as long as you stick to the behaviours described.

► DREAMSHARING: There is a player plot going on which will allow characters to share dreams! These are specifically more dreams than nightmares, and the mushi-adept characters will be here to help.

► CHILLAX: There isn't any plot twist for this setting, so this is mostly an opportunity to decompress from the last plot and get ready for the future. The Ringmaster will show up occasionally to help with needed medical treatments and check on things, but won't stick around for long.

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That's a lot longer than Yuya expected, but it makes sense. Strange was always troubled by what happened in Portland, but going into Ignatius' service expecting to be killed...

"That's kind of an awful thing to make someone promise, isn't it?" Yuya frowns, bothered, but there's no actual judgement in his tone. Instead, his shoulders hunch like he's a bit ashamed. "You're friends, right?"

"How the hell should I know how many fae there are or what'll set them off!?" Rita barks back at him. "They were already kidnapping, brainwashing, and tormenting our people before we did anything to fight back!"

As far as Rita's concerned, the fae's actions were always beyond reason, ever since the beginning. What use is there in placating an enemy that'll be hostile no matter what? Besides...

"Besides, if we killed him, then at least your contract would've been nullified. That's something your dying didn't fix, I assume."

That... sounds like most monsters.

[Huge. Hungry. Smelly.]

Where I'm from, camping equipment usually comes infused with a scent that repels monsters, so people don't get attacked in their sleep. [She glances over their own bundles.] Doesn't look like any of this is treated, though.

"We are," Strange explains. "He's probably my closest friend at the carnival. That's why I asked him in the first place."

He thought Lambert would understand. And he thought that Lambert, the man who prides himself on murdering things, who swears up and down that he's a killer, would actually be the one to do it. It never occurred to Strange that Lambert might fail or Lambert might not want to kill him.

"I trust him, even with the hard things."

"And what's your reasoning for that?" Because based on the frown on Strange's face, he's downright skeptical of Lambert's conspiracy theory. Interested and willing to hear it out, but amazingly skeptical.

"Your hair, will warm it up," Herbert points out, reasonably. "In no time at all. You can blame Ignatius if you want, or the Ringmaster, but you're not resting on anything flammable anymore without this in the way. Not until you find another solution." Impassively, he walks over and drops the towel at the head of the cot.

It goes plap.

Yuya nods slowly, his marshmallow dipping slowly towards the fire as he thinks.

"But even if it's because you trust him... it'd hurt him to do it, wouldn't it? Even if there's no other choice, if you have to--"

He jerks his marshmallow back as it starts to set aflame, shaking it to put out the flame before it burns worse.

"It's not that easy to hurt people you care about." Or watch them be hurt.

And Strange just gives Carly a wide grin. Taking her hands, he leads her out to the dance floor. "Normally these sorts of dances have a proper form. As it's a dream, however, any mistakes shall be happily ignored." What's the worst that can happen, Strange's dream judges her? That'd be silly. It's his dream, it won't happen!

As the music starts up, Strange offers his hand to Carly. If she takes it, he'll lead the two of them into a waltz. It isn't Strange's forte, but if they're to talk, it'd be so much easier to do it via a waltz than via a quadrille or a reel.

"And then what? Would you kill Nightshade next? Or what about the fae who cursed me? Except I'm terribly sorry, I killed him already, and I'm still cursed!"

Ignatius isn't the only one with a claim on Strange's soul and Rita knows that. She might not know the details of the fae from his world that cursed him, but once again, Strange is operating under the assumption that she does.

“Aren’t you the one supposed to be good at politics, not me?” Lambert asks. “The Winter Queen dies at the hands of a nasty Beast. Terrible tragedy, but Winter needs a Queen. Luckily, the Winter Maiden is right there to take up the job, and rule Winter as she sees fit.”

Lambert pauses. “Except something doesn’t add up. Did Syrlya show you what he found in the library? The Summer Maiden and the Winter Maiden were working together to change the Courts... with the Great Beast. They were friends.

“So if the Winter Queen’s death was something they all planned together ... why is the Beast hiding from the court and the Summer Maiden in exile? Sounds like someone got greedy, doesn’t it?”

Lambert waves a hand. “I met the Beast when I was in Portland. She had a reputation for killing fae even then — the Winter’s Claw, or something. Guess that part turned out to be true to life. But if you met her... you’d wonder how she did it. She wasn’t exactly bright. And she lost badly when she attacked the Rose Queen’s gardens, and she couldn’t plan her way out of a box. Hard to believe she could take down a Queen without some help.”

Edited 2018-06-14 03:38 (UTC)

"If I had the chance, I would."

Rita folds her arms, glowering. "Maybe, if you're already neck-deep in fae curses and contracts, you could try not throwing yourself into new ones."

"We need them to fight," Rita says, matter-of-factly. "To protect their freedom and ours against those who'll try to take it."

Her gaze drifts upwards, to the ceiling. "This world used to be protected by a barrier... a spell just like the Severing, that kept outside threats away from us. We could try to recreate it instead, but... if we did, we wouldn't be able to meet like this anymore, so..." Her voice grows quieter, seemingly out of embarrassment at admitting she'd like to continue seeing her Carnival friends.

But she does. And the only way to make sure she still can, while preserving the safety of her world, is to defeat their enemies for good.

He doesn't fully believe this. In Strange's mind, this seems like a lot of reaching, of Lambert trying to find an answer to shift the blame off of the Ringmaster. But Strange isn't so certain that's what happened.

"Or the Ringmaster planned this herself to try and speed the process along, and the Summer Maiden went into exile since she was ashamed of the Ringmaster's actions. I did see Syrlya's story. And, from what I saw of it, I doubt the Summer Maiden has the capacity to even think of killing someone."

Strange read Syrlya's story: as soon as conflict was introduced or things moved even slightly towards violence, the Summer Maiden folded like a sheet of paper. And he remembers the general atmosphere of the Summerlands. Could the Summer Maiden plan an assassination attempt? He doubts it.

"Besides, I doubt there's much planning involved in eating someone." Because that's Strange's conspiracy theory as to what happened to the Winter Queen: she got ate. "You just need to be at the right place at the right time."

"Phsh-!" She follows that lead, and follows it rather well. Taking Strange's hand, it seems she manages quite well with the dance- she'd certainly practiced enough at the Manor, it seems. "I do remember how to waltz at least," Carly scolds, half pouting as they move. "I could even do it in my sleep, I think~"

There's a playful wink, with that- dreams, sleep, right? She's totally funny, okay.

"If you didn't decide the solution to seeing Ignatius was to attack him, I wouldn't have thrown myself in this contract to begin with!"

Strange is downright yelling and looks like he's going to hop off of this cot at any moment so that he can better get in Rita's face. The flames in his hair start to burn brighter, as more of his hair catches on fire than just the ends.

"It would," Strange admits. "And that might be why he couldn't do it in the end."

Why Lambert threw all sorts of different strategies at Strange and didn't just slit his throat and run. But the fact remains that Strange just selfishly hopes Lambert would have killed him, even if it was so hard, just so he wouldn't have to deal with the memory of trying to kill his best friend.

Strange's marshmallow is entirely on fire. But he doesn't seem to care. Instead, he's just staring off into space slightly.

He couldn't do it. Yuya's not sure if he would have been able to without help, in the end. Not without getting lucky, but it makes him no less sick every time he remembers firing that arrow.

He bites off half the marshmallow, staring dully at the fire in equal silence. He gets it, really. He gets both sides of it.

"... I made Gongenzaka promise to leave me to die if I said so." He says it a little hurriedly, like he won't get it out if he didn't. A little weight lifts from his chest, and he's finaly able to look at Strange again.

"It's awful, right? Making them hurt more, so we hurt less."

Because apparently actually dying is hurting less, sure.

He tries not to take long as he reads through the notebook with renewed interest. Unlike Rita, he's very much aware of her watching him like she expects him to give it back, and one panther ear will slide upwards in her direction to gauge any tone of impatience getting worse. When done, he'll close it and hold it out to her.

It fills in a few blanks within the information he's been compiling. Tyki never really wrote anything down. His mind was where he store everything and he loved to talk in order to explain. "Sorry, I was admiring such detailed work." He sits more properly on the ground, resting his chin into his hand, "Whose Frost? I heard he was at Athenaeum too. His name has been coming up a lot."

“Strange,” Lambert says, dead serious. “When at any point in the time you’ve known her has the Ringmaster really planned anything?”

Sorry, RM, but it’s true!

“The Count said that’s what she was accused of — killing and eating the Winter Queen. But if she did eat her ... what’d she do with all that power?” Because that’s what the Ringmaster’s feeding habits end up as — fuel for more.

“With all the power she had, she could have struck down at least one of the Courts she hated so much. Done more damage, hurt them more permanently. Instead, she just killed the Queen and ran? And how’d she even get into the Queen’s palace in the first place? We know fae are masters of their realms.” He frowns, then plunges on.

“There’s more to it. Frost was in the Athenaeum ... remember that asshole? He said he was a witness to all of it, because he served the old Queen directly. And he was a smug little shit about it too. If it wasn’t for the Elysium I think the Ringmaster would’ve been happy to eat him. You trust him to tell the truth? I don’t.”

He’s skipping over details as he rambles, leaving out important parts, but there’s the air of someone trying desperately to puzzle out the details and get a clear sense of the story here. With a soft wheeze, he forces himself to sit up, tail curling in agitation behind him.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter,” he admits. “The Ringmaster doesn’t seem to think it does, and maybe Winter doesn’t really care about the Queen either, and the truth is whatever people want it to be.”

Edited 2018-06-14 05:40 (UTC)

Reira's seen an Arcanine of course, but naturally the same cannot be said for its miniature and juvenile state. In a sense, even having wandered into the dream from her own strange Candy-Wonderland place leaves her conscious enough to find the connection obvious. Fluffy tiger-dogs? Clearly these are Baker-Babies. And it is the presence of such 'babies' that means she completely misses Childermass in his chair, instead eyeing the fluffy dogs with the sort of look reserved for Christmas itself.

It might as well be Christmas, with this many soft playful things, and soon enough Reira will be crossing over Childermass' line of sight in her Alice-dress to tentatively reach out for the pooches.

She looks thrilled, and she doesn't even know yet if they're friendly. "...hi Baker-puppies..." she greets softly, hand shaking as she wonders if they'll let her pet them. ....She hopes they're friendly, honestly.

[It's not like he's trying to get him alone with his guard lowered so he can devour him. His Tease could do that for him at any time with little to no screaming on his end. No, it's for much tamer means.]

How about on level ground? I can clear it of rocks and level it out. My Tease can take care of the bugs. Or, Most of them.

[To which he's already doing as his hands slide into the ground, pulling rocks and pushing earth from one spot to another. He was a Magician, even if he was only using his Power to Choose to manipulate the earth as he pulls rocks from the ground without disturbing the dirt other than creating a hole.]

Lambert isn’t fully cognizant this isn’t his dream, yet. It’s just a dream like any other, even if it’s an unfamiliar, nonsensical landscape. That’s the sort of thing you just recognize in dreams — like he recognizes Peridot, even if she looks different.

“Hey, Peridot.” He waves jauntily and jogs over. Like her, he’s been stripped of all his features — though the sharp golden eyes remain, taking everything in with open curiosity.

“What is this?” He asks. “What were you doing just now?”

"There will always be stars, Mister Strange. I cannot say the same for you with your track record. You are free to stay as long as you like. I never mind your company." Despite everything, Tyki was a little annoyed to hear him offer himself like that over the radio. Tyki just never felt a need to hold any sort of anger towards a friend for long. "it's alright to relax."

He looks down at his attire. It's an interesting choice in clothes, "No, certainly not. Yet with such a fashion statement you likely don't need a hat anyways."

"Lambert--!?"

In contrast, Peridot picks up on the fact that this must be a dream almost from the moment she sees him. It's just how her mind tends to work, overly analytical and detail oriented as she is. Lambert being in this place, this place having Lambert in it-- It's not an impossible scenario, but it is a rather improbable one. Trying to contextualize why he might be here has her trying to recall how she even got here herself in the first place, and when she can't do that... The whole setup falls apart pretty quickly.

"...I'm dreaming?" she exclaims out loud, looking up at the ceiling of the hole she's in, out at the kindergarten, and back down at Lambert. Then she narrows her eyes at the witcher. "Ohhh no. No no no. Lambert, I love you like an actual human brother but if this is my dream, I am not having you here in this horrible sham of a kindergarten to pepper me with questions. Go. Go away!"

And she sticks her nose up in the air and tries to shoo him off with a wave of a hand. She definitely thinks that, since this is a dream, he must be another figment of her own imagination, and absolutely not some kind of interloper granted access to her head by the power of mysterious psychic ghost bugs. So, she's attempting to lucid dream him away.

"I...!"

Rita knows that was a mistake. She knows she could have gotten killed, and could have gotten others killed. And knowing that is so frustrating that she can't help but get even more upset.

"I know, damn it! All this time, all I've wanted was to kill him. And I couldn't even make a dent! All my research, all my practice... it didn't matter!" She thought she knew what a High Fae was like, but Ignatius was even more powerful than he was in Portland. Her chances weren't just slim, they were nonexistent. If she hadn't been frozen in fear, maybe she would be dead.

"I knew I could have ended it if I'd offered myself instead... but I couldn't do it." She shakes her head. It feels cowardly to admit it, but even in hindsight, she wouldn't do it. "And all the reasons I didn't are the same reasons you shouldn't have, you moron!"

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⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

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C - I saw this dream and could not resist...

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