⇨ 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

[atouts]

"And?"

That's all, just a prompt to continue. Childermass could easily say something sarcastic about Strange thinking that, of all things, but he'd rather just move onto the damage. If there even is any. Doubtful, but one can hope.

[whattaprick]

"I fell over laughing at him. Then I told him I was in love with you," Lambert says plainly, managing to get the words out without a stutter.

"Next thing he did was try to punch me-- his fists light on fire now, did you know that? -- and kick me in the ribs." His hand goes to his side, just remembering the scuffle. Strange hadn't actually connected, but the sharp movement of getting out of the way ... that still pulled at things that really weren't ready to be pulled.

"Anyway Butcher didn't like that, so he stopped that pretty quickly."

[atouts]

One might think someone would be more reactionary to the 'love' word being used but, then again, this is Childermass. He zeroes in on the negative immediately, at least in this case, gaze following Lambert's hand to his side. He sets his jaw tightly, slowly leaving off from there to look at the witcher's face again.

"He attacked you?"

Any other time, hearing Butcher intervened would be much more amusing, but not right now, not for this.

[whattaprick]

Well, he hadn't really thought of it that way, but now that Childermass mentions it, it's technically correct. The witcher's expression is mostly exhaustion, whatever rest he'd gotten over the past few days mostly undone by the encounter.

"Wasn't much of an attack." Whatever Ignatius put him through wasn't enough to change Strange's aptitude at fistfights, and thank fuck for that. "Seemed like he was more pissed about not being told, than about it actually be a thing." That's surely reassuring, right?

"He calmed down after Butcher knocked him down, but once we got to Ignatius he started yelling again." And so did Lambert, if the way his expression darkens is any indication.

[atouts]

"It doesn't change that he tried," Childermass mutters and moves to push Baker's head off his lap, which only earns him a bratty whine from the huge dog. He looks down at him, frowning. "Oh, go on. I'm not a pillow."

Which does absolutely nothing to get Baker to move. Of course. Fine, he'll just grouch and grumble where he is, trapped by pet-in-lap syndrome.

"I have half a mind to ask everyone to check his head and see if he's still enthralled at this point."

[whattaprick]

“I thought so too, but the Ringmaster would have done something by now if he was,” Lambert says gloomily. “It’s not enthrallment. It’s just Strange.” Which is arguably worse.

Shifting around, the witcher reaches out to move the pot off the fire before he can let it burn while he’s self-absorbed.

“It sure seems like they got friendly,” the witcher says sourly. “He says Ignatius is the only person who respects him in this Carnival, says he can’t let himself comfortable with us binding him. Comfortable! Did Ignatius make sure he was comfortable? Maybe we shouldn’t have bothered getting him back since he obviously loves the Summer Court so much!”

His voice has raised, even if it’s not directed at Childermass, and he’s stabbing the spoon into the stew with increasingly violent motions. Of course he wouldn’t have left Strange, of course he doesn’t expect gratitude, but what the fuck? He’s struggling to wrap his mind around how someone could come back from that not just having goodwill but willing to defend his captor and preach about his virtues. It’s frankly disgusting.

[atouts]

Once he starts stabbing at the stew like that, Childermass will shift over closer and put a hand on his arm, if only to keep him from splattering dinner everywhere and regretting it later. Admittedly, that would be one way to escape having to eat Lambert's cooking, but this seems like the right thing for the moment.

"You don't mean that," he says, quieter. He's not all too happy with Strange right now, either, but there was no way they could just leave him, even less so hand him back over. "So if it isn't enthrallment, maybe something else is wrong. Has he said anything about what happened to him while he was with Ignatius?"

[whattaprick]

Lambert's expression twists as Childermass sets a hand on his arm, muscles jumping at the contact, but he doesn't pull away, though his jaw sets. It'll take him a moment or two to figure out an answer, forcing a calm he doesn't feel.

"Not to me." It's probably easy enough for Childermass to imagine why that is -- Lambert and Strange coming to yelling and blows before anything of much import could be said. "All he said was ... Ignatius told him about the Ringmaster killing the Winter Queen. He was teaching him new ways to kill people, but I don't know how he did that." Considering how short a time Ignatius had him, if Lambert had to make a guess, he'd assume it has to do with 'fucking with memories.'

"Whatever it was, it worked." Lambert's hand, unconsciously, comes up to rub at his throat. "He used magic to take away the air around me. Apparently, Ignatius likes his soldiers not just battle-ready but efficient."

[atouts]

Childermass would make the exact same guess, knowing just enough about how the High Fae operate. That claim does draw a worried look across his face, though, because Jonathan Strange doesn't kill. Under someone else's sway, certainly, but why mention that at all?

"That still wasn't him in his right mind," he at least tries to put some reason to it, even if it's for naught. He knows better than anyone else how Lambert reacts to anything near his neck, how sometimes the witcher wakes up from some troubled sleep gasping for air. There's never been a lot to say about that. Comfort or pity; neither would fix the problem.

"He won't do it again. You know how he is."

[whattaprick]

"Won't he?" Lambert asks, though it sounds more resigned than cynical. "We can't even say that for sure. We don't know how deep it goes, whatever Ignatius did to him."

He lets his hand drop once he realizes where it is. Leaving the spoon in the stew, he settles for resting his forearms on his thighs, fists clenched.

"He's decided he's staying with the nightrunners. But he's not going out there again on my orders, if I can help it."

[atouts]

As if Strange won't go out all on his lonesome as if to prove everyone wrong anyway, but that insight won't help with this conversation one bit.

"For all we know, it may even just be him being a stubborn fool," Childermass sighs and pulls his hand back, off of Lambert's arm. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see. You said he mentioned the Winter Queen? That came up again in the moon. It turns out the Summer Court already suspected the Winter Maiden's hand in that..."

[whattaprick]

It’s also something Lambert is already aware of as a very likely possibility, which makes it all the more frustrating.

Childermass’s words get his attention, though, and Lambert frowns. He’d like to ask more, but—

“Are you even supposed to talk to me about that?”

[atouts]

Oh, there's plenty he won't be telling Lambert, but that part? Childermass scoffs.

"What? Tell you something most of us could have guessed at already? If we could figure out the current Winter Queen is underhanded, it isn't a stretch that the Summer Court would consider the same possibility."

[whattaprick]

“To talk to me about him at all.”

Even if Lambert could have guessed anyway. Frowning in thought, he looks away.

“So they know, and ... it doesn’t change anything. They still went after us, they’ll still chase the Rose ... and now, Ignatius. If they even realize he’s alive.”

[atouts]

"He'll be common knowledge soon enough," Childermass says with a shrug. "And no, it doesn't change anything. Their goal is the Rose, not vengeance against the Ringmaster. Whether they send anyone after Ignatius, however, is yet to be seen. Soldiers die, that isn't new. Who might replace him, though... I might worry about that."

[whattaprick]

“He’d know,” Lambert says, simply. Much like his own second in command is known to him (and god’s, isn’t rhat still a weird thought to have) he’s certain Summer must have their own plans for succession.

“Someone should try asking, assuming he doesn’t consider that too much of a betrayal of Summer to answer.”

[atouts]

"I hadn't even thought of asking that..."

Though it seems so obvious now, it should have been at the top of the list. Actually dealing with a changed and distraught Ignatius (or as distraught as that man can ever be, anyway) hadn't really lent itself well to picking useful questions.

"Well, perhaps later. He certainly isn't going anywhere."