Lost Carnival Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ringleaders) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2018-06-09 06:55 pm
ringleaders) wrote in lostcarnival2018-06-09 06:55 pm
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.
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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"It goes without saying, but... in that fight against Ignatius, if I didn't have the Athenaeum's power and the rest of you backing me up, I probably would have been killed," she begins, frowning. "I mean... I get it. I'll never be strong enough to fight a high fae head-on without relying on external powers. But I'd still like to be able to evade and survive their attacks... especially when we won't have those book spirits to help us next time."
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“We’ll never be a match for the speed, strength, or power of a fae,” is what he begins with, businesslike. “But they have weaknesses too. They can be distracted. They can be tricked. And most of all, they can underestimate you.”
He looks her over like he’s seeing her for the first time, evaluating what he has to work with.
“How strong are your wings?”
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"Strong enough to fly with. Probably not enough to carry another person all that far... unless I combine it with levitation magic, that is." Which is another thing she can do.
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"Show me?"
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Rita sweeps out her arms, seemingly conjuring some sort of magic, then jumps... and doesn't come back down. Instead, she hovers high above the ground, her feet at about the height of Lambert's head. She doesn't bob around or anything; in fact, she seems almost as stable as she'd be on solid ground. She keeps her wings closed, clearly indicating that she's doing this with magic alone.
"Normally, I'd use this technique to make it harder for enemies to reach me while I'm casting," she explains.
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"Interesting. Don't think I've ever seen you use this."
And then, without warning, he pokes Rita rather sharply in the back of one knee with his stick. He could ask her more information about it, but it's more interesting just to try something and see!
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With her concentration broken, the levitation falters and her stance wobbles. Instinctively, she opens her wings and flaps them to keep herself steady in the air.
"The hell was that for!?"
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“It’s a common weakness among mages. Spells are powerful, but they require thought.” He pauses, like he’s mulling something over, then figured there’s nothing to lose by asking.
“Ignatius never trained his changelings in combat?”
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Lambert’s next question catches her off guard, however. “Wh... what does that have to do with anything?” she snaps at him.
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He lets it hang there, watching Rita and waiting to see if she’ll pick up the implication on her own.
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“Yeah, well... I wasn’t one of his soldiers, so I wouldn’t know,” she mutters, bitterly.
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Does Rita know the answer to that herself? He doesn't know, and he's watching her for her reaction, picking up on that discomfort easily but not sure what the cause of it is. Open to interpretation as the question is, how she reacts to it will be just as telling as whatever her answer actually is.
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“A tool,” she answers simply. “I didn’t have to know how to fight; I just had to wait to be used by someone who did. Until then, I was little more than an object kept in his arsenal.”
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“...how’d you end up with him? Do you still remember?” It’d been a surprise to see faces he recognized in her dream, but he’s curious just how far her memories go.
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“All my earliest memories of that life are of his fortress.”
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“In that world, stories said the fae exchange stolen children with one of their own. So their parents don’t even know what they’re missing.” Hm, maybe that’s not exactly comforting. “But the stories didn’t get much right.”
Since They don’t seem to be about to launch into another fight, Lambert lowers the stick. He’d press Rita for more, but he’s considering what makes sense to actually ask next.
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“It wouldn’t make a lot of sense,” she agrees with a shrug. “Giving up one tool for another... from what I’ve seen of the fae, they prefer exchanges that result in a clear gain for themselves.”
Even Ignatius wasn’t satisfied with a double-or-nothing wager, and instead made the ridiculous demand that they bring out the Rose to bargain with.
“And, as we know, some of them are stupidly possessive of what they consider their own children.” She means the Rose Queen, of course.
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"Some of them," he agrees, with a scowl. "The Count didn't seem that interested in Childermass when he wasn't something he could use." Like a bargaining chip, or a ritual sacrifice. Just dwelling on that's enough to put him in a foul mood, though he won't take it out on Rita.
"Did you run into any of the other fae while you were with Ignatius?"
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In a way, it feels like she’s trying to recall the details of an old dream... one that left an impression, yet still doesn’t feel real.
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"Visiting, huh? Doesn't seem like the sort of thing you'd need a changeling around for. What was he doing, making sure you got your exercise? Give the Rose Queen's kid a playmate? How thoughtful. Guess he really is as nice as Strange seems to think he is."
He is, of course, being utterly sarcastic.
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Seemingly remembering the stick in her hand, Rita's grip tightens and she raises it up once more.
"Are we training or what?" she asks, bluntly.
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"Then move fast."
The stick in his hand snakes out with surprisingly fluid speed despite his injury, aiming to prod her in the belly.
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With an annoyed noise, she swings her own stick to try and hit his wrist. It's not a bad choice; she knows she wouldn't match his strength if their weapons clashed directly, and she doesn't have the reach to go for a killing blow, so an attempt at disarming is the best she's got. Unfortunately, she has very little experience with this sort of weapon, so her execution is probably lacking and just leaves her open to a counterattack.