⇨ 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]

Strange just had a week-long egg recovery session, is fueled by spite, and is too stupid to give up. He is not going to leave Lambert alone. And so, he follows Lambert and just keeps on talking, despite the fact that this conversation is practically unsalvageable as is.

"Stop being difficult. You know there's a difference between killing me and killing a High Fae. Besides, you wouldn't have tortured me."

[whattaprick]

“Yes. The difference is I know you,” Lambert says flatly. “And I’m regretting not torturing you right now.”

[kingsroads]

"The difference is if you murdered me, you wouldn't have the entirety of the Summer Court out for your blood," Strange clarifies, like Lambert's too stupid to know what the difference is. "It may come as a surprise to you, but some of us actually like you alive."

Though, not really at the moment. Strange still wants to wring Lambert's neck right now.

[whattaprick]

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations of being a sword for you to stab yourself on,” Lambert answers, sarcasm heavy. “I know that’s dreadfully inconvenient.”

[kingsroads]

"I trusted you," Strange points out, "because you're the one who said you could do it. I wouldn't have gone with Ignatius in the first place if I knew you wouldn't be able to kill me."

He wouldn't have gone with Ignatius in the first place if he knew the torture would be survivable by most of the carnival, but that piece of insight still makes Strange feel like garbage, so he's keeping it to himself.

[whattaprick]

“Strange,” Lambert says, turning to shoot him a look, brows furrowed in disgust and fangs bared.

“You couldn’t even kill me yourself, and I promised you that before I knew what it felt like to die.”

[kingsroads]

Yeah, Strange isn't as certain about that as Lambert is. And he just feels really shitty about this admission, to the point where he's jamming his hands in his pockets and not making eye contact with Lambert in the slightest.

"I killed Susan during the Hunt and, had the Ringmaster allowed it, would have tried to kill Nightshade during Wismuth—and those were before Ignatius put me through his training. Had Zangetsu waited a few more seconds, I might have killed you."

[whattaprick]

“I’m talking about the Hunt,” Lambert snaps back. “Jasper had to chase me down, half-choke, half-drown me before she broke my neck. It should have been you or Childermass, who was out there with his dog and let me nearly shove him off the cliff like a moron, but it wasn’t and you know what? It wasn’t great.”

Cue gimping away faster.

“Since it’s my fault anyway, maybe I’ll give myself up when the Summer Court comes for Ignatius, see how you do then!”

[kingsroads]

Cue running to catch up with Lambert and his gimpy leg.

"You were transfigured!" Strange reminds Lambert, like he's an absolute moron. "How the hell was I supposed to know which one was you in the first place? Susan even looked like a tiny dragon. For all I knew at the time, that was you."

[whattaprick]

“Ask Peridot and Childermass, since they figured it out easy enough,” Lambert snarls. “And stop following me already!”

[kingsroads]

"Like hell!" Strange points out, as he keeps on following Lambert. "I'm not finished yelling at you!"

Though what is he going to yell at Lambert about now? Strange pauses, bites his lip, goes back over Lambert's words...and oh. Half-choke, half-drown. Might not be able to breathe if that's the case.

Well this is obviously Lambert's fault for not telling him how he died in the first place! How was Strange supposed to know that?

"If it helps, I didn't know how you died in the Hunt when I tried to kill you. I thought I was being efficient, not cruel."

[whattaprick]

“What, so Ignatius also requires his servants to be humane when they put people down?” Lambert asks stonily. “Or did you have just enough control of yourself to choose how you wanted me to die?”

So no, Strange, that’s a big fat no, it doesn’t help.

[kingsroads]

"Ignatius requires his soldiers to be battle ready. If I killed you faster, you'd have less chance to kill me," Strange explains, as if it's the most matter of fact thing. He hates himself as he explains this but it is what it is.

"The glyph was there to prevent me from turning into smoke—I'd probably have killed you that way if I had the chance. You're more durable than most but you still need to breathe. You had my hands, which prevented most of my spells, but that one can be cast with just my mouth. And unlike attacking you with fire or earth, there was less of a chance that the spell would affect me instead. It's tactics, Lambert. I gave you a book on this."

And Strange got forced though hell until he managed to figure out how best to apply those tactics to his own magic.

[whattaprick]

“He changed you.”

Strange has literally never given a shit about ‘tactics’ in the entire time Lambert’s known him and he bitches about something as simple as running.

[kingsroads]

How the hell is he supposed to respond to this? Strange looks a little uncomfortable for a moment, like he's put on the spot, before he shrugs.

"Perhaps. If he did, though, it might be for the better."

How many times has Lambert gotten onto him about the fact that he hates running or that he cheats like a bitch on the obstacle course? Strange isn't a good enough judge of himself to pick out if Iggy changed him or not, but if he did, then it must be through the training he went through.

[whattaprick]

Lambert has nothing to say to that, so he simply, for once, doesn’t say anything at all. He’s tired of feeling things, and even anger isn’t quite the comfort he wishes it was.

So no — Strange’s comment is met with a brief look, but that’s all, before the witcher goes back to stomping along with Butcher. By now, they’ve actually come reasonably close to the campsite he and Childermass share.

[kingsroads]

And like the world's most annoying duckling, Strange just continues to follow Lambert. He's quiet as well, mostly due to the fact that he really doesn't know what to say. If this were Arabella, he'd apologize and they'd kiss and make up (and then kiss some more). But where the hell would he even start with this? And would Lambert even make an attempt at apologizing? Because a good chunk of this is still his fault, Strange hasn't forgotten that.

He starts to idly play with his magic, lightly poking at the reflective bits on his chest and shoulder while he follows Lambert to wherever the hell he's going and mulls over what to do next. If Lambert looks back to yell at Strange, he'll find the magician with his hand halfway in the mirror on his shoulder, while Strange himself obviously thinks about something else.

[whattaprick]

And the closer they get to the campsite, the more quickly evident it is that they aren’t alone. Butcher’s ears pricking are the only real warning they have before Baker suddenly bounds out of the vegetation (which between the horses and the dog, is looking thoroughly trampled) to greet them, bushy tail wagging. He’d been peacefully napping when Lambert left, unaware his master was being spirited away too. He’s bored.

It’s Lambert he stops to greet first, the witcher deftly redirecting his doggy kisses with one hand with the ease of long practice while Butcher prances around his father. With what Strange knows now, those grandfather jokes from before may seem all too apt... but soon enough, Baker directs his attention to the magician, head cocking inquisitively.

“It’s Strange,” Lambert says, by way of explanation. And Strange is ... putting his hand through his shoulder? What the fuck?

[kingsroads]

Good Lord, this is all so bizarrely domestic. Dad's home from taking the puppy for a walk, time to pet the dog and put his feet up. Strange is so baffled by the sight of Lambert, Butcher, and Baker that he forgets he's idly fiddling with his reflections and just kind of leaves his hand in his shoulder for a moment. It's only when Lambert starts talking, that Strange moves his hand back to his side and makes a small kiss noise in Baker's direction.

Baker makes a little 'whuff' as he looks at Strange. The dog then walks over, sniffs Strange experimentally...and gives him a big ol'doggy slobber kiss right on the top of his head. It is amazing the amount of dog slobber that Strange now has in his hair and on his face. He wipes some away from his eyes with a sleeve while some of Strange's hair relights itself. Obviously, this will not do, and Baker gives Strange's hair another giant slobbery lick.

It's hard to be angry at someone when you're getting puppy kisses and Strange can't help but hold back a little laugh. "Baker, no, stop that." Sluuuuurp. "Call him off, Lambert!"

[whattaprick]

“You think he listens to me?” Lambert snorts. You’re on your own, hotman. With Butcher distracted, Lambert is left to make his slower way to the tent on his own, settling his ass down on one of the sleeping bags dragged outside to provide a place to sit and nap in the sun. He picks at the bandage on his arm, working to rewind it. The scarring shouldn’t affect his range of motion much — it looks worse than it is — but it’s still an abstract worry.

Baker’s tail just ways faster at the hair that keeps relighting itself. Is this a new game? Sorry, Strange, you’re going to have to deal with this for a while.

[kingsroads]

It takes about ten minutes, but eventually, an intensely slobbered-on Strange and a very happy Baker make their way back to the tent. Baker's prancing happily, holding a dead jackalope in his mouth. The prey drive took preference over kisses. Baker drops the dead animal by Lambert's feet and gives him a happy bark.

"You get to deal with that," Strange complains. He's less cranky now, more downright exhausted. Guess who tried to chase that damn dog when he ran off to catch the rabbit, hint, it's Strange.

Strange plops his ass down on another of the sleeping bags, as he tries in vain to run his fingers through his hair and get it back to something slightly presentable. He's still not leaving Lambert alone, despite the fact that he's fairly certain Lambert isn't going to be the one to make the first move.

[whattaprick]

It’s never going to be presentable as long as it’s yours, Strange. Lambert eyes the dead jackalope with a sigh, then rolls up to get away from the sleeping bag — he doubts Childermass would appreciate blood on it, even if it isn’t technically theirs — to begin skimming and cleaning the damn thing. He’s seen Childermass do that plenty enough these past few days that he knows how to do it.

“He wants the insides,” he explains, as he works. “Childermass has been feeding them to him since we got here.”

Childermass, who isn’t back yet from ... wherever the Ringmaster took him. Lambert scowls down at the rabbit corpse. Not that he expected a quick resolution, but he doesn’t know when it’ll be over, either.

[kingsroads]

Okay, that's a bit gross. Still, dogs will be dogs: even if they're large six foot tall fire-breathing fluff monsters, they'll still like to chase and eat fantasy animals. Strange continues to attack his hair, vaguely watching Lambert out of the corner of his eye.

Strange had planned to sit on the sleeping bag and just ignore Lambert. But his lack of any knowledge on how to skin and clean a dead animal gets the better of him. He looks over at what Lambert's doing...then scoots a bit closer towards Lambert...then straight up gets up from the sleeping bag and walks over, getting in Lambert's light a bit.

"What's Childermass doing with the pelts?" A horrible mental image of a jackalope fur coat briefly plays in Strange's mind before he banishes it away to somewhere else.

[whattaprick]

"Nothing," Lambert shrugs. "I've been salting them, but I don't know if I'm making anything out of them yet."

He makes quick and efficient work of the jackalope, making the incisions needed to cut the skin free from the body and then pulling the whole thing off in a surprisingly easy motion. Setting the fur aside for cleaning later, he guts the thing and lets Baker have it, leaving him with meat to preserve and a fur to clean.

"I need cold water to wash this out with," he tells Strange. "Think you can manage that?"

[kingsroads]

He watches intently, only wrinkling his nose slightly when Lambert gets to the gross guts bits. At Lambert's question, he gives the other man a look like he's an idiot.

"Of course I can," Strange answers, like Lambert asked him to do something as simple as pick something up. "Do you have a bucket or something like that to catch the water?"

Because of course Strange is going to make it rain.