⇨ 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

[anti_nonsense]

Rita gives her wings an experimental flutter, glancing over her shoulder as Lambert brings her attention to them.

"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.

[whattaprick]

"Levitation magic?" Lambert takes a couple of steps back, but it's only to give Rita room to work, as he makes a small gesture with his hand.

"Show me?"

[anti_nonsense]

Well... she might as well show him.

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.

[whattaprick]

It's an interesting use of magic, and it reminds Lambert that there's still a lot about the people he's working with he doesn't know -- both about their abilities, and without it. He walks around her as she floats, curiously, as if to verify that she really is floating on her own power.

"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!

[anti_nonsense]

"Ow-- hey!" Rita yells when he jabs her out of nowhere.

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!?"

[whattaprick]

“To see if it holds if your concentration is broken,” Lambert answers, with a grin. Looked a little touch and go there, but...

“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?”

[anti_nonsense]

Well, that pretty much nails the biggest weakness of blastia magic. While Rita’s able to cast spells faster than most other mages, her spells are still vulnerable to interruption. It’s one of the reasons she’s prioritized the practice of fae magic.

Lambert’s next question catches her off guard, however. “Wh... what does that have to do with anything?” she snaps at him.

[whattaprick]

“Strange said he trained him. That Ignatius requires his soldiers to be battle-ready,” Lambert answers, with a shrug. “I don’t know what he did... but considering he only had him for a day or two, it was prettty effective.”

He lets it hang there, watching Rita and waiting to see if she’ll pick up the implication on her own.

[anti_nonsense]

Rita folds her arms, looking slightly uncomfortable with the topic. She sinks slowly toward the ground.

“Yeah, well... I wasn’t one of his soldiers, so I wouldn’t know,” she mutters, bitterly.

[whattaprick]

"So what were you to him?" Lambert asks it without inflection, just a plain, matter-of-fact question.

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.

[anti_nonsense]

Rita averts her gaze. She might not know the full extent of his intentions, but as far as she could tell...

“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.”

[whattaprick]

“And you saw what happened to those who got his attention or those of other fae often enough,” Lambert says, folding his arms and closing his eyes as he tips his head to the side, brows furrowed.

“...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.

[anti_nonsense]

“I was a baby at the time,” she answers, shaking her head. “I don’t remember.” Did her human parents abandon her...? It figures.

“All my earliest memories of that life are of his fortress.”

[whattaprick]

Could be worse, Lambert could point out. She could be faeblooded, like Steven or Childermass.

“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.

[anti_nonsense]

Rita idly fidgets with her own stick.

“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.

[whattaprick]

Lambert's only met the Rose Queen briefly ... but that brief meeting was a pretty memorable one.

"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?"

[anti_nonsense]

“I met the Rose Queen once, on one of Ignatius’ visits to her gardens,” Rita explains. “Though met might not be the word for it. She barely acknowledged me before dismissing me and... the other changeling there. Steven.”

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.

[whattaprick]

Lambert's expression twists even more.

"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.

[anti_nonsense]

"Hell if I know," Rita grumbles. "It only happened the one time. Either he wanted to show me off for a change, or his first choice for an attendant couldn't make it." Those are her guesses, anyway. The fact is that she doesn't really know why Ignatius did anything, most of the time.

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.

[whattaprick]

Lambert twirls the stick in his hand at Rita, and grins wickedly.

"Then move fast."

The stick in his hand snakes out with surprisingly fluid speed despite his injury, aiming to prod her in the belly.

[anti_nonsense]

Spotting the movement just in time, Rita springs backward in a short jump. If she was a little faster, she'd clear it, but her reaction is just slow enough to get brushed by the tip.

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.