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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He shrugs as he keeps watching them.

"It's fine. I've woken you with my dreams sometimes."

Yuya grins wider at that. He's not lacking for good adult figures willing to help and teach him, but having another still warms his heart.

"Maybe talking through mirrors? Especially if we're going to find a way to make it work across the universe, I should learn how it works now." He nods, apparently confident in his decision about which one to start with.

And then he remembers what Lambert mentioned about scrying before, and his expression slips a little. "Uh, but, wait--I have a question."

He holds up his finger for emphasis. "Lambert said you use your scrying to spy on him."

That's not a question.

"Mhn! I will! I have to be careful so that niisama doesn't get too cold I think," she adds, frowning rather seriously.

As it is- who knows how kids think, these days. Even normal ones are a little out there sometimes... ...but at least she seems to be happy for the moment?

"No...the shell is useless, merely a shield," says Herbert dismissively. He wants that good magical stem cell shit. "Maybe I should see about getting an egg for myself." A safety net AND a future resource. He'll have to ask a couple of people he trusts to follow directions to be ready with vials for if he dies and hatches.

"Now those could be hallucinations," he suggests, "firing synapses before the soul truly left the body." He's willing to listen to magic and souls existing. He's willing to accept the existence of Hell as a multiversal location. He absolutely will not accept that souls are judged and passed on to some absurd, Christian afterlife. "What did you do to acquire an egg? Does the Ringmaster have them all automatically?" Something abruptly occurs to him, based on his new knowledge. "Does she lay them?!"

The Incandescence only nods, her expression proud and content. The Torchbearer and the Gilded Mark nod to you as well, as you turn and pass through the doors.

The throne room is quiet when you enter. It seems even bigger than usual, somehow - and far more empty. All there is is you and the Summer Queen.

She is sitting at her throne, the light of Summer pouring in behind her. Yet, she doesn't seem to notice you. Despite the warmth of the medallion at your chest, and the lingering feeling of the Incandescence's kiss, a fear rises in your chest. The Summer Queen is both new and familiar to your eyes, and you are suddenly terrified of her looking at you.

'Why?' you think. You should be ready. You have the medallion, you have your makers' blessings. You have your training. You were created in the Queen's name, with a fragment of her very essence. So, why can't she see you?

You clench your fists, and claws that shouldn't be there cut against your skin. There's a hollowness in your chest that makes you feel so empty. How can you go on like this?

"Yeah I've had Clear Wing for about as long as I can remember. But that's pretty easy to tell, huh?"

And ever since Yugo managed to master the summon spell after Greysol- having the dragon be more than just a card spirit within a piece of cardboard does help bolster an existing relationship.

"Only natural that he'd be the ace card in my deck." he adds while glancing toward Clear Wing. At this, the easily flattered dragon preens- obviously used to and never tiring of getting their ego stoked.

Strange beams. He's about to start talking up a lesson plan, start explaining the use of mirrors and how they'll best start Yuya off...when Yuya asks what Strange interprets as an intensely dumb question. Of course he uses his scrying to spy on Lambert. Why wouldn't he?

"I scry for everybody."

Is this a problem? How is this a problem, Strange doesn't see anything wrong with this.

Edited 2018-06-19 02:43 (UTC)

Well, nothing is going to fix itself. Reira decides that the most important thing to do, while her daemon Stares, is to remove things from atop of Alphys if that applies.

And then...move anything that's just sort of around Alphys, rather than under.

...And then maybe look directly at her face, peering over from an angle.

"....Do you want help..?"

Your fists slam the ice, sending cracks along their surface. It's not fast enough. The ice is too thick, and your fire is gone - it's all out of your reach. There's nothing you can do. You're trapped, you're all trapped, and...

And she's already disappearing, on the other side of the ice. It's an old sadness trying to break free, to reopen the wound once again. Yours hope fades away as quickly as she does.

It feels like it takes forever for you to tear your eyes away from the shapes she leaves in the ice with her absence, like a perfect sculpture of her features. You can see from your own hands that your not far away from joining her. You have to go. You can't keep doing this.

You turn, and you feel something pierce your chest, pinning you back against the ice. You can see it glimmering in the light - the giant shard of ice that's gone right through you.

Edited 2018-06-19 02:47 (UTC)

"But to spy on him." Yuya emphasizes, leaning forward. "Not when everyone's in trouble, but when he's just hanging out or doing other things!"

Like the moon sleepovers.

"... Do you spy on me?"

"The Neapolitans I revived were dead for at least a day or so," Strange explains, shaking his head. "Neither us nor them were hallucinating."

That's one thing Strange is damn certain of. But, Herbert swaps the topic back to eggs and revival. And hey, Strange can answer this much! "The ritual is simple: she just needed a bit of my blood. As for the eggs themselves, I've no idea where she gets them from."

But if she laid them, that's a whole different set of really awkward questions. Strange looks intensely uncomfortable for a moment before he starts up the line of questioning. "Having the body makes the recovery go faster. And I know the Ringmaster has a habit of eating her enemies." Ohhh he doesn't want to say what's on his mind. "Do you think...erm, for lack of a better term, do you think she ate and laid me?"

Did he get vored? Mr. Regency Period doesn't know what the word 'vored' means, but he is still pretty grossed out at the general idea of being vored.

Reira has not been this surrounded by fluffy things since perhaps that one time she decided it'd be grand to try and acclimitize all of the 'small' animals to the tent at once. The dream is a decidedly more welcome experience, though the surprise it catches her with results in a half laugh, half squeal that has potentially only been heard once or twice on the lake while camping- certainly not even once before they started camping.

She might not understand the creamsicle-tigery mess, but she can't help but relent when it appears that all of the various puppies are managing to find tickle spots regardless of any rocky patches. She's quickly bowled over and disappeared beneath them, arms stuck trying to both gently shove one or the other away from her face ('That's my nose!!!'), or just pet them.

"MNpphhh-h! Hey-!" she sputters eventually, still trying and failing quite spectacularly at getting up. "Hey, I have to get up..!"

This is really not going well (as much as she can't be anything more than slightly annoyed and incredibly giggly about this)- eventually she just squeezes her eyes shut and accepts her face, grimacing a bit as she's attacked by growlithe 'kisses'.

She laughs wryly, cupping her hand over the back of your paw. It should be impossible, with how large you are, yet somehow it fits - and then, just as impossibly, you are standing before her in a humanoid shape, just tall enough to have to tilt your head downward to meet her eyes.

You can touch her, you remember. You smile back putting a hand to her face. Your skin is scaley black and your claws are long, but they fit. You fit. She leans in, and presses her lips to yours.

Just as quickly, she pulls away, grabbing your hand and tugging you along into what is apparently her bedroom.

"Come on!" she says. "We need to make the best of this."

Ah- now this one goes much better. Reira doesn't even find herself thinking too much about blocking this; wind is more her thing, whether she knows it or not, whether she's trying or not. It doesn't even have to do with all her attempts for wind magic as a whole.

Of course, as much as the shield isn't pushed back, there is the slightest twitch from her fingers as if they need to keep it steady- what blows around the shield rustles the feathers over her arms in the meantime, and Reira nods more to herself than to Strange as she keeps it focused.

for a moment, she's certain that she could do anything. She could conquer whatever stood in her way so long as the Incandescence looked at her like that.

But this?

This was not what she anticipated. The atmosphere of throne room is stifling for its emptiness, almost hard to breathe. What did she think was going to happen? She doesn't know, but anything would have been better than this. The barest glance at her would have been preferable. Anything other than being ignored. It had been like this with Shiro, struggling for his attention while he just passed her on to whoever would take her off of his hands.

She clears her throat, hoping something subtle would catch the Summer Queen's attention, tries to force her fists to relax. If subtle won't work--well, she's already thinking about what she might do next. Show off some of her training, do something rude? It didn't matter, so long as she was acknowledged. Anything was better than this.

The 'stealthy' tree tent, sadly, is about as stealthy as a brick. It's green, certainly, but the trees they're tied to are strange, alien, and in some spots glowing.

...So it's not hard to locate. Which is good, because it means it isn't difficult to make out the few thinks that had to hang off the stretched out cables holding the tent up in the air- a bathing suit and a towel, respectively.

It tells Yuugo this is the right spot- just as his, erm...calling tells her that he's out there.

Soon enough, the 'door' up top is being zipped down half way so that she can peek through. ".............Yeah."

Despite being shouted somewhat to carry over the distance, it sounds just as flat and matter-of-fact as it would one foot away somehow.

Oh. Yeah. This is definitely worth all the probably expensive decor he just knocked off some hallway walls.

For a couple of reasons, not in the least because Winter is a beautiful lady in a pretty lovely room, but, mainly... Mainly because it's nice to be looked at like that, like this. A vase got broken, paintings are on a couple different floors, an explosion sort of happened that he had nothing to do with, the door to the bedroom is completely gone which means 'making the best' will mean it being made with no privacy...

But he's still able to smile. Still able to feel like it doesn't matter, if he can still earn a kiss like that, and a few other things in the near future besides.

It feels a little easier to relax, and he teases, "Oh, if you're so eager, maybe you should have tore the door off." He can touch her now, he could always maybe touch her, so he gladly speeds up to press up against her back.

Poor Reira indeed. Being swarmed by great Mothmen was already bad enough- and then she's almost swarmed by the one who's covered in leaves. Except that one- not to mention all of the rest- quickly decide that Fleeing is the wiser decision when the mass of Orange and Green tears after it.

And, you know, plows into the small child it's no longer shorter than.

As one does. "Mgpf!" FEATHERS!

...Are in her face, they sure are. (But hey, you're big enough to give a kid a hug now Feathers! Imagine that!)

Your will to move forward prompts an action that seems to come from muscle memory, and a surge of determination. You drop down onto one knee, crossing your arms over your chest. You call out.

"My Queen," you say, as boldly as you can, though your voice still shakes. "I'm sorry that I was late."

Her gaze falls upon you at last. There is something in her eyes that seems so old and so careworn, the years burdening her more than any other fae. Her brow creases with concern upon seeing you, as if sensing what is wrong inside.

"What happened to you?" she asks, and though there isn't judgment in her voice, there is worry, and disappointment. "Something is missing. How could this happen?"

Edited 2018-06-19 03:31 (UTC)

She's all too happy to accept the glass, though Shura won't take a drink quite yet. "Nya, the pleasure would be mine." There were very few men who Shura could say that about while being completely honest.

"You think I'm exotic, huh? Maybe you don't have a Japan back home ♥. It's all pretty normal to me. Some shochu with some juice mixed in--it goes down real easy after a hard day at work!" Sure, she's been trying to live a better life, but that doesn't mean she has to cut out all of her drinking. Just her weekday drinking.

"It is always curious how people assume I can answer anything with a beak," is the answer Steven will eventually get but first the massive bird has to look down his beak at the boy and then... change. It's a flicker of shadow and motion, quick as a blink, specifically made so to avoid the generally more horrific parts of shapeshifting. It's the same as with the smaller form, the crow Steven might remember from Portland, just writ large.

And it, of course, leaves Childermass sitting on the rocky outcropping he'd previously landed on, not so tall that he's literally looking down his nose at Steven anymore but damn near close enough. He won't answer Steven's actual question since the answer should be obvious now.

She allows you to press against her back for a few long moments, before slowly spinning around to face you again, circles by your arms. She presses a finger to your lips.

"I thought we were going to talk about your speech tomorrow," she says, coyly.

"Speeches don't exist where I come from," you say, grinning through her finger. You pick her up into your arms and spin around until both of you fall into bed, with her on top.

"We're never going to accomplish anything if we keep getting distracted like this," she says, and she's joking, but only half joking.

"No...!" Her fingers dig into the cracks she somehow created, and she rests her forehead against the ice. It's cold, everything is cold, she's so tired of the cold and what it's doing to them. Can she just curl up and stay here to mourn? What does it matter if she goes back when everything she cares about is gone or soon will be? Her hands say it all, she doesn't have any time left.

Does she even want to go on? Yes, apparently she does, because something tells her she has to go. She turns around.

The choice is apparently being made for her.

She stares down at the spear of ice that's gone through her, barely comprehending what's happening. How-- why--? Her hands clasp the spear, half attempting to take it out, half just trying to figure out what is happening to her.

What happened? What had happened? She did everything she should have done. She trained her body and mind, she practiced and studied everything she would need to know to better serve the Summer Queen. What hadn't she done for her? Shouldn't the medallion be proof enough?

It stings; nothing had been enough for Shiro's favor, either.

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my Queen." She keeps her voice as strong as she can, though she can't keep the confused tremble out of her voice. Damn it, what was wrong with her? How could she return to the Incandescence after this?

Edited 2018-06-19 03:44 (UTC)

That's not exactly what he meant but Herbert will leave it, because he'd rather think about this new idea than argue with Strange over Christian delusion. Of course, Strange wouldn't know of DNA, so he'd have no reason to think that the information required was in the blood rather than the soul, but that must be it. A DNA sample to rebuild from, with the soul to provide that essential electric-like substance that everything is formed around.

He'd made the suggestion on the assumption that it would make sense for an occasional dragon to lay giant eggs, rather than create them from nothing, but then that she, perhaps, injected them with DNA and soul. "That's not--" --how egg fertilisation works, he wants to say, but. It's. He has no idea how dragons function. He frowns a bit wild-eyed and vaguely at his notes. "I don't-- No, she couldn't have, she'd already eaten Ignatius at the time. She was keeping him in her stomach. Or crop." What even is a dragon. "Either way there'd be no room to process you."

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⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

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