⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

[ringleaders]

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.

Comments

[kingsroads]

Hearing Lauren say that he's right does boost Strange's spirits a little. But he's got plenty of condescending know-it-all energy left in him so this conversation is far from over.

"None of us planned to meet with the fae for this encounter," Strange points out. If the fae caught them by surprise once, then they can catch them by surprise again. "As long as you're in the carnival, the more you know about the fae, the better. What matters is that you keep yourself and Susan safe and it would be easier to do that with information. Who the fae are, what they can do, any particular personality defects, and so on."

What Strange is trying to say is 'brush up on your npcs, Lauren.'

[anti_nonsense]

He finds Rita sitting near the tent she's sharing with 9S, sitting on a tarp spread over the ground with a book in her hand and Francis curled up in her lap. She looks up at Lambert, an eyebrow raised at his shirt, which nearly distracts her from noticing the sticks he's carrying.

"You couldn't have called first?" she grumbles, despite clearly having time to spare right now.

[anti_nonsense]

Rita jerks back a little in surprise at the dragon's show of affection, seemingly unsure of how to react.

"You think so...?"

Yuya's comment bring a slight redness to her face, and she cautiously reciprocates, reaching her hand out to stroke the creature's face.

[hippocarnival]

Odd-Eyes lets out a trill sound, holding his head still as Rita strokes him while his tail slowly swings behind him. Despite his size, Odd-Eyea definitely isn't the picture of a fearsome dragon. Yuya knows he can be, but he also knows it isn't really his nature.

Yuya's tail is also swishing at the tip as he comes up on the other side of Odd-Eyes, resting his hand on the dragon's neck. He nods once. "Definitely. If he didn't, he wouldn't get close to you."

And he's glad, really, to see Odd-Eyes able to trust someone else after everything that happened in the original dimension.

"You know, I don't carry him around all the time anymore, but even as a card he knows what's going on around him." So in a way, he's already met Rita.

[pipers_son]

Oooooh boy. Joker lunges forward, nearly tripping over either his feet or plantlife, to try and grab his overly large bird. Reira is small, but she looks even smaller compared to Feathers now.

"Reira!" The mothmen are gone, so, well, he can ignore that. But he doesn't want the poor girl to be suffocated. "Are ya alright?"

At least Feathers is a good boy, as he flaps his wings and tries to step back. WHOOPS...

[whattaprick]

"There's a pot behind the tent you can use. Do it over there, by the trees." Lambert points away from them, to a goodly distance. Butcher likes the mud, so creating a big spot near the tent that's practically an invitation to roll around is overall a terrible idea (assuming Strange even cares it's a terrible idea). Also, Lambert doesn't want to get wet.

d is for domesticity

[whattaprick]

By the time Childermass gets back from the Ringmaster's errand, he'll find Lambert working on boiling a stew made of jackalope over a rebuilt campfire. Shockingly, he's not made a complete hash of it yet -- nothing smells burned, and it's bubbling quietly -- though he might have misjudged the amount of pepper and salt to be a bit more than people might usually like, but it's pretty edible for a Lambert creation.

The witcher himself is seated quietly by the edge of the fire, expression pensive, though it lightens a little when he hears a familiar step. His ears prick and he raises his head, looking at Childermass.

"... Welcome back."

[whattaprick]

"You think the fae are going to wait on you to finish reading and petting your cat?"

Lambert holds out a stick at her, waggling it at her in mock-remonstration.

"I thought you wanted to step it up."

[kingsroads]

As he feels Rita's hands around his, Strange looks a bit surprised. Oh. That's her hand. Maybe that breathing thing did help. Though how the hell Rita knew breathing exercises is beyond him. He opens up his eyes and looks down at his not-on-fire hand.

Strange doesn't make any effort to take his hand away from Rita's. Instead, without really thinking, he reaches over with his free hand to put it on top of Rita's. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you for rescuing me," he admits, before the yelling can start up again. "And thank you for being there when I hatched."

[kingsroads]

Strange has a big fat weakness and that's called his inability to deal with any sort of mental attack. He can't stop himself as he starts walking towards a tree. But he can continue to try and figure out what the hell this magic is.

He's keeping his third eye going as he walks. Whatever this is, it isn't fae—that's good! So logically speaking, it's probably a carnival member fucking with him, which means that Strange is already planning revenge of some sort.

By the time he's gotten to a tree and is wrapping his arms around it, Strange decides that this is dumb. He changes tactics and starts murmuring a spell of disenchantment. Because his spellbreaking works best via dumb kisses and the closest thing to Strange's mouth is a tree, he's just continuing to mutter the disenchantment invocation, hoping that's enough power to push through whatever the hell this is.

[atouts]

Arriving just in time to give that pot a wary look, because he already knows the usual outcome of Lambert trying to cook. It isn't on fire, though, so that's... an improvement? Probably an improvement.

"Nothing world-destroying happen while I was away?" Childermass asks. It's in jest, not something terribly common from him, but it's better to lead with that and try to cut through the similarly distant look he'd been wearing as he walked up. It does help that Baker immediately stirs from near the other side of the campfire and gets up to greet him, though, and so by the time Lambert can even answer that, the magician will be talon-deep in fluff, scratching gently through a big feather-adorned mane.

[anti_nonsense]

At this point, Francis wakes up. Upon seeing Lambert, he jumps up with a hiss and circles around behind Rita. With no reason to refuse, Rita sets her book aside and rises to her feet.

"Hmph. If a fae showed up dressed like that, I'd almost feel too sorry for them to fight properly," she retorts as she reaches for the offered stick.

[whattaprick]

Lambert shrugs. “It’s what Carly had to give me. She’s got these in a bunch of different colors, it looks like.”

The current one is pink with the words spelled out in rhinestones. Not the most practical for an outdoor excursion, but at least it’s comfortable.

“You don’t look like you’ve had much of a vacation.”

[pipers_son]

The bothersome thing about having wings and antlers, Joker reflects blearily, is that he's often forced to sleep on his stomach. This is fine, normally. He's made it a skill of being able to sleep in most positions, and that's only gotten better with his flexibility getting more severe after joining the carnival. But this is a problem when he's having rather... warm dreams. The kind of dreams that get a guy all fidgety.

Which is also a problem when one is in a group camp. He knows this from experience on both ends. Ha.

For lack of anything better to do, he lays there in the darkness of his tent, still half asleep as he stares through half lidded eyes at the walls of his tent. Over on one side, he knows his only tent partner is sitting upright on high alert; Feathers has been bothered for days now. The weird not-owls of this place seem to really annoy him, probably due to all the casual theft. At least it means he doesn't have to worry about much. He can just lay here, wondering if it's unfair to Ginko or if it's bad to want to go back into that odd dream...

Somewhere in the other tents, there's a shout, just a bit too distant for him to make it out distinctly... especially when he's still partially asleep. With the group of people that make up the carnival, it's honestly not that surprising. Joker would brush it off, wanting a good night's sleep again after a good few days of none...

But Feathers has different ideas.

A low soft coo starts to rumble through the tent, insistent, and it's not particularly helpful to sleeping. At least, not while it's right in his ear. Joker holds out, for a few moments, before giving up . Sighing, he pushes himself up and pulls his arm out from underneath his pillow where the light had been mostly hidden. "Moths again?" he grumbles at the bird, who blinks at him with large eyes nearly bad enough as the same moths he keeps going up against. Well, he guesses there's no helping it. Thumbing one of his antlers, Joker starts to crawl over to the opening of his tent.

[alphudo]

Truth be told, Yuusei almost doesn't hear him as he runs by, but he recognises that voice from some time before, and so he comes back around instead of grinding to a halt to address the onlooker.

It's a number of things happening very quickly that drive him to come by, really. The voice, of course - which he currently cannot place - is one factor, and the 'friendly advice' is certainly another. But what truly caught his attention in its entirety was what he saw out of the corner of his eye when he passed. Or rather, whom he saw.

Yuusei is no stranger to death - he grew up with it in Satellite, and it surrounded him during the Signer War - but to see Kiryu? Here? Exactly how he was before he turned to dust in Yuusei's arms? He's obviously taken aback, staring incredulously as he slows to a stop. His chest aches for a moment, but just for a moment.

In the end, it's the words of Hades echoing back at him in his mind that brings him out of it, at least for now; because he remembers that voice over the radio from a recent night, and that certainly wasn't Kiryu talking back then, right? Right?

He looks a little less unsettled than he did before, at least.

He simply shrugs and trots a little closer, hoping not to scare off the jackalope. "If I misstep on the ferris wheel, a lot more things will break than just bones. I'm aiming to get better at that."

[whattaprick]

The question earns a scowl, though Lambert’s quick to try and smooth his expression into something less aggressive. It isn’t Childermass he’s mad at, and he’d rather not let the poor mood carry over.

“Not unless running into Strange counts. He’s ... lively.” That’s the most neutral description he can come up with, right now.

“How’d it go with the Ringmaster?”

[chronosynthesis]

"I wouldn't call it a vacation," he grumbles, shoulders slumping a little. He doesn't let his posture hang for long, however, as Lambert's the best option for getting him up to speed.

"How long have I been gone? I see that we are still camping... or is it camping again?"

[kingsroads]

Strange nods. He stands up, walks behind the tent to grab the pot, then goes out towards the trees. It's about ten minutes before he comes back with a pot mostly full of water. Strange himself is mostly dry, though there's the sort of muggy stickiness that lingers in the air, after the rain.

Wordlessly, Strange sets the pot down near Lambert. There's a few chunks of ice floating in the water as well: this thing is cold. Give Mr. No Upper Arm Strength over here a moment to catch his breath because he definitely needs it.

[atouts]

"As well as could be expected," Childermass says, ruffling up Baker's fur one last time before breaking away to walk over and take a seat nearby. Without surprising anyone whatsoever, Baker follows and flops back down on the ground again, right next to the magician, shoving his head into his lap for further scritches as soon as he does.

Which he'll get, if only idly near one ear and with only one hand. Dogs...

"Ignatius is imprisoned in the other moon now. She wanted support to help her deal with him." But that said, he does circle back to what else Lambert mentioned, a small frown tugging his lips down. "Strange came by?"

[atouts]

"Iron can be used to dispel faerie magic, not just brutalize them directly," he points out. "It was how I chased the vines of the Blue Rose back and away from Steven that one time. So perhaps they're meant to be akin to a lockpick, a spell-breaker, though if she had any deeper reasoning, I have not seen fit to ask her just yet."

[anti_nonsense]

Rita's face reddens. There's no hiding it, really, but boy does she hate being called out on it.

"A little," she hastily qualifies, even though it's pretty clearly a lie. "That's not much of a hobby."

[atouts]

"Something to do with their head?" Childermass can only make a wild guess since he has about as much an idea a Shura does. That phone, though, he eyes suspiciously. So that's a part of the game?

"Maybe your dream alien is Ybb after all... What now? Is there another step or do I listen to that thing?"

[atouts]

"Baker, here," Childermass does, eventually, call them off of Reira, though he doesn't need to leave his beach chair. He just calls, firm of voice, across the sandy terrain to the Growlithes and they all jump back, turning to look with varying degrees of goofy-looking ears flopped in random directions and tongues lolling out their jaws.

Then they're off again, tearing up the sand and yipping and yapping until they reach where he's lounging, upon which they all settle around in a semi-circle to sit. The magician, for his own part, lowers his sunglasses to eye them from just over the rims.

"Hm... Good boy." Well. "Boys."

Potentially girls, too, but in this dream, it just makes sense that they're all Bakers, every last one.

[whattaprick]

In the other moon? Well, considering what they did to the Blue Rose, that’s not too surprising. But what exactly did she need support for? Lambert opens his mouth to ask some more follow up questions, but Childermass beats him to the punch.

Lambert turns to fuss with the pot, stirring the contents to keep it from burning to the bottom while he answers.

“Not exactly. I was taking Butcher on a walk, he was practicing magic in the woods. Followed me to keep yelling at me.” He shrugs, winces a little, then forges on. Might as well get the bad news out of the way.

“He knows. About us, I mean.”

[steadydollypegs]

As hard as she's trying to sleep, closing her eyes is nearly impossible. Not because she's outside, exposed to the elements, and laying on the ground-- the content of the dream is still clinging to her back and showing up over every thought and prayer she has about just falling asleep and not thinking about it anymore. Her mind won't let it go, it's too fresh.

But she hears Joker start to move in his tent, grumbling about moths, and coming towards the entrance. Doll raises her head in a panic, trying to wipe her face dry and only succeeding in smearing dirt over her cheek. No-- she has to get up and leave before Joker sees her, she's wasting time trying to look presentable! But... so what if he sees her sleeping on the ground next to his tent? She's allowed to do what she likes, isn't she? Well. Maybe right next to his tent isn't such a coincidence, though.

...Yes she should move.

After that lengthy internal battle, Doll drags her legs under her and tucks her hands under her arms again for warmth and shuffles around to the other side of the tent, hiding.