lostcarnival | ⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

Entry tags:

⇨ 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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."

"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.

"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!"

Strange draws in on himself on the cot, bringing his knees up so he can rest his chin on them. Yeah, he knows that feeling. He couldn't do anything when he was trapped by Nightshade and could barely do anything when trapped by Ignatius. Greatest magician of the age, everybody.

He does look up a bit when Rita mentions the reasons. "And what reasons are those?"

He's worried he knows the answer already: because he knows too much, because he's too powerful, because he'd be a dangerous ally. Things like that instead of what Strange is hoping Rita actually says.

"For one, because we're both dedicated to collecting information. Information that the Summer Court now has," she begins through gritted teeth. That, of course, is one of her concerns. But it's far from being the only one.

"And for another... because we both have somewhere we need to get back to." Rita doesn't look at him as she says it. She says somewhere, but what she really means is someone. "You know there are a lot of ways this could have gone wrong, right? What if we weren't able to summon and bind the two of you? Ignatius could have just kept you away, left you in the gardens, or dragged you off somewhere far away in the multiverse, and we'd never see you again, and you'd never find your way back!"

Strange briefly looks like he's going to haul off and punch Rita as she mentions her concern about information: his hair burns brighter to match that spike of anger. But, he mellows slightly and simmers down as she mentions somewhere to go back to. Because she's right. And man, is a part of him so thankful that Rita actually answered based on his personality and not reducing Strange to a set of skills on legs.

"I wouldn't have agreed to his offer if I didn't believe all of you could bring me back," Strange explains. There's a hint of a pleading tone in his voice as his annoyance slowly starts to lessen. "She brought me back after Portland and didn't abandon any of you to the Prince. I trusted that you'd rescue me."

And hey, he was proven right. He just got stabbed a bit in the process.

"Of course we would," Rita admits in a hiss. The carnival came through for her when she was imprisoned by the Prince. Strange might have even saved her life by throwing himself at Ignatius. There was never any doubt she'd try to save him. But...

"But we almost couldn't. Ignatius wasn't willing to make a deal with us; he intended to keep you out of reach. It's only because of the Athenaeum's spirits... their power to turn stories into reality, that we were able to get to you at all." Their own power wasn't enough, and that's terrifying to Rita. What if they weren't so lucky?

"If it wasn't for that, you'd still be his servant."

And with that, Rita is never learning about the fact that as soon as his contract with the Ringmaster is up, Strange is most likely falling right into Ignatius's hands. Nope, what she doesn't know won't hurt him.

"But you were smart enough to turn the stories into reality in the first place. Neither Ignatius nor I considered that a possibility, and I encountered a few of those stories while I was here. If we were somewhere else, you'd have found a way to turn that magic or that situation to your side." Just like they did with the Prince and they did with Portland. Three different situations where the carnival managed to come up with something and change the match right underneath the fae's noses.

It's just now occurring to Strange that the fae might secretly be really stupid.

Rita sinks back into her chair, her anger seemingly running out... for the moment. It's hard to stay mad at someone while he's telling her how much he believes in her, but she can't shake the feeling that Strange is in denial about the risk he took... or even if he recognizes it, he won't say so to her.

"Idiot," she grumbles after a moment. But any more arguing about that, and they'll just end up going in circles. So now that she's calmed down a bit, she'll try asking about something that's been on her mind.

"...What happened after Ignatius took you?"

"We talked for a while," Strange starts to explain. "He told me about that business with the Winter Queen, which it looks like everyone here already knows." Thanks for that Count, not like Strange was going to enjoy pointing out to everybody he knows things they don't or anything like that.

"After that, we started training. I was supposed to be a soldier in his army, so he ran me through a series of battlefield maneuvers and training exercises. I won't lie and say it wasn't challenging. But it could have been worse."

He's keeping his voice as level as he can, but there's not really any trace of anger or hatred in Strange's voice as he talks about Ignatius. His voice hitches every now and then, like he's describing something terrible, but there isn't that trace of venom that's present in Strange's tone whenever he speaks about Nightshade.

Rita's brow furrows, a bewildered look on her face.

"Training," she sputters, nearly speechless.

She doesn't believe him. Whatever it was, whatever happened, there's no way it was just training.

Strange knows she doesn't believe him. But like hell Strange is telling Rita the full truth, not when she hates Ignatius so much already. Things like Ignatius reading his essence, that unbearable pain, that's straight up not being mentioned. And if he can downplay the training, then so be it, that's what he'll do.

"It was all in my head," he admits. "Whatever spell he used, it put me in various battlefields with a varied group of servicemen. I thought it must have been at least a week but I've asked around and I was only in his thrall for a couple of days."

Or, at least, the training was. The effects certainly weren't.

Rita's frown deepens, her face scrunching up as she anticipates this getting horrible, but finds that Strange either doesn't reach such a point, or glosses right over it.

"That can't be all it was," she says plainly.

Normally, she'd let it slide. Being captured by fae can be a harrowing experience. Some people wouldn't want to talk about it, or they wouldn't want to make others worry. But with Ignatius involved, Rita can't just ignore what might have happened.

Whereas Strange is downright confused by Rita's statement. Of course it was all it was. What on earth does Rita expect? Physical violence, like what happened with Nightshade? Some form of torture like what happened with Steven? Strange is deliberately underplaying things, but he didn't think he was underplaying them that much.

"But that is all it was," he points out, downright confused. "Honestly, this isn't like what happened with Nightshade. Ignatius respected me—I spent most of my stay unenthralled. And he's certainly not sadistic. I wouldn't have fought the three of you except for the fact that you summoned me."

Strange's tone of voice is shifting a little as he gets a bit too needlessly defensive of the whole thing.

Ignatius respected him? He's not sadistic?

There's a flicker of anger in Rita's face, and for a moment, it looks like she's about to scream at him again. But it fades in an instant, replaced by a look of confusion and contemplation, as if she's trying to solve an annoying riddle.

"Hold still," she commands him, though it's not like he has much choice when he's bedridden like this. She leans forward, sweeps out a hand, and conjures a magic analysis interface, its target clearly being Strange. With this, she'll be able to see any enchantments he's afflicted with.

The suspicion being, of course, that he's still under some kind of enthrallment.

When Rita calls forth her interface, Strange goes ahead and summons up his third eye: he wants to know what the hell she's doing. His forehead, hand, and forearm light up with magical fire as Strange squints at Rita's interface and he tries to piece out all the bits and pieces of that spell. Because 'hold still'? She's trying to do something to him, isn't she.

"What exactly is that spell?"

Rita can see the way too many contracts that Strange is under: the Ringmaster's, Nightshade's, Ignatius's, even his blood contract with Lambert, as well as the curse cast by the Gentleman that still lingers on him from London. But he's not under any mental enthrallment.

Rita flinches, as if expecting that fire to indicate some sort of danger. But a moment passes, and she relaxes, though she gives that burning eye on his forehead a wary stare before continuing.

"I showed you before. It's used to identify and analyze magic in greater detail," she replies as she taps her fingers against the keyboard, her eyes scanning the display as it reveals abstract-looking shapes and strings of complex runes. She examines, with some exasperation (how can there be so many?), the details of each, occasionally lingering on an item of interest before skimming along to the next.

"You're acting like a brainwashed idiot, so I had to see for sure," she grumbles as she continues reading.

Well Strange can't really do anything while Rita analyzes him. If he gets up and tries to leave, he's got a feeling he'll pass out. So, all he does is stay where he is, sitting upright and sulking. Strange even crosses his arms over his chest in a slight pout.

"Is it so hard for you to believe that he's not as bad as he looks?" Strange complains, as he gives Rita a frown. Really, he should be a bit more empathetic towards her about this. After all, she did have to deal with Ignatius during Portland and nobody was really themselves then. But at the same time, he knows he's going to get nothing but grief and nothing but odd looks the moment he even dares to suggest Ignatius isn't as bad as he could be.

Rita firmly answers, without hesitation, "Yes. It is."

But despite her searching, she can't seem to actually find anything that would indicate a mind-influencing enchantment. She swipes to dispel the interface with a scoff. Rita could understand him saying he's not so bad if and only if he was compelled to feel that way by forces beyond his control. Otherwise, it's inconceivable.

"Fine. It looks like you're not being forced to say it. So tell me, how exactly is he not that bad?" She's watching him with a venomous glare. Strange might as well be standing in a minefield; no matter where he goes with this, she's probably going to explode.

Strange returns Rita's glare with a stern and steely one of his own. What does it matter what he says? It won't change her mind. It won't make her think any differently.

"I saw what the Rose Queen did to Steven," Strange explains, keeping his voice as level as he can. However, he can't hide the disgust in his voice as he talks about poor Steven's circumstances. "She turned his body to crystal, almost like the Blue Rose. His wings weren't there anymore: she had rooted him to the ground, keeping him from escaping or moving around too much. Though only his wings were rooted when I saw him, Steven told me that his hands and feet were rooted to the ground earlier."

Strange pauses a moment, partly to let the horror sink in, partly to take a breath. Despite how well he's doing, he did just revive a few hours ago and the tiredness occasionally hits him. "Ignatius didn't do anything like that to me," he explains, a bit quieter. "Nightshade tortured me, the Rose Queen tortured Steven, the Prince tortured half the damn carnival...but Ignatius didn't do anything like that. He even gave me warning before he hurt me."

And despite all that, despite the fact that Ignatius seemed to be one of the most decent fae that Strange had ever met, he's stuck who knows where, fresh off a round of torture and magical enthrallment.

The horror does sink in, but it only fuels Rita's anger. She had some notion of the sort of cruelty Steven was subjected to, and hearing it confirmed makes her blood boil. This is exactly why she hates the Summer Court. How can he say all of this in one breath, and defend one of them in the next!?

"He gave you warning," she spits, incredulous. "You think that makes him so different? You think that makes up for kidnapping people, imprisoning them, enslaving them, using them as tools in a war that has nothing to do with them!?" Her voice grows louder and more shrill with each atrocity she lists. As far as she's concerned, Ignatius fits right in with monsters like the Rose Queen and Nightshade.

"You knew him for two days. I--" she stops, her breath catching in her throat. Was the Rita in Portland really the same person as her? Were those years spent as his changeling real? Rita can't come to an immediate answer to that, so she finishes by instead blurting out, "What the hell do you know!?"

"What the hell do you know?!" Strange yells back. The flames in his hair burn brighter and more of Strange's hair starts to set itself on fire as he glares at Rita. He knew this would happen. It's pointless trying to convince her to think any differently because she'd just see all the fae as the same.

"Yes, you know him in Portland, but since we were changed, who's to say he wasn't!" The Jonathan Strange of Portland was not the Jonathan Strange of the carnival. It's entirely possible that the Ignatius that Rita knew was different from this fae.

"Stop making excuses for him!" Rita cries, slamming a fist on the bed. She misses Strange's leg, at least, but she probably wouldn't be sorry if she did hit him.

"Would you accept that nonsense if this was about Nightshade? If someone told you she's not responsible for what she did to you, that she might have been someone else? Don't screw with me, you jackass!"

"Well what about me?" he snaps. Smoke's starting to rise from Strange's fist as he gets more and more irritated. "Am I responsible for what I did to Childermass? To Steven?"

He's stubbornly glaring at Rita, as if a petty staredown will help her see his point.

Two can play at this petty staredown nonsense. Rita meets his glare with a stubborn look of her own, and retorts, "What if you are?"

Because he very well might be. If what Lambert said was true, then in some way, they really did live their lives in Portland. It was a realization with heavy implications for Rita... but nowhere near what they would be for Strange.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject