lostcarnival | ⇨ CAMPING GROUNDS

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⇨ 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

As Syrlya enters the dream, he'll find that he's human-looking, wearing very fine and fancy clothes circa the 1810s, and he's knocking on the door of a respectable London household. A young woman in servant's clothes opens the door...but visible in the entryway, buttoning up his coat, is Jonathan Strange, looking a good ten or so years younger than Syrlya knows him, with no gray in his hair and no carnival changes in his appearance.

Sometimes, Strange is on top of things enough that he can tell when he's dreaming. Right now isn't one of those times. As such, he looks up at Syrlya, blinks for a moment, and then his mind figures out an acceptable answer as to who this person is and why he's here.

"You needn't worry, Mary, I can take this from here." The servant nods respectfully at Strange before backing away. In turn, Strange focuses his attention on Syrlya. "I'm afraid you came at an inconvenient time, sir. I was getting ready to head to the bookshop." He pauses for a moment, before his expression brightens. "Would you care to join me? We can talk about whatever the government wants Mister Norrell and I to do next on the way."

It's obvious that Strange really really wants to go to the bookshop but he's far too polite to outright say so.

Syrlya knows, frankly, very little about human politics. He's familiar enough with the role of the Queen, and most of what the Ministry handles, but all of the language and alliances and bureaucracy? Lost on him.

Which is why, staring at Strange and hearing him babble about government and Mr. Norrell, Syrlya is just confused.

"I... yes, of course I could walk with you." He briefly flusters before stepping back out of the doorway to give Strange room.

Victory! Strange doesn't even bother to hide his delight as he puts his top hat on and, with one last nod to his servant, leaves the house. There's a very obvious pep in his step as he starts to hurriedly walk down the street, assuming Syrlya's going to follow.

"Arabella heard that the seller had bought some of the contents of the Baron Digby's library at auction," Strange starts gossiping. Hope Syrlya's ready for a bit of magical jargon. "He was always a bit of a queer one—obsessed with the Aureates. I doubt he'll have anything of use, but I need to at least check before others hear of the auction."

He pauses and there's a brief flash of an expression on Strange's face that plainly states 'well crap, I've said too much.' He continues chattering, but his tone's shifting a little, like he's worried Syrlya would rat him out and Strange wants to cover his bases. "Of course, if Mister Norrell is interested in any of the works then I would let him purchase them first. But even an apprentice must have some attempt at a library. Don't you agree, Lord Syrlya?"

Syrlya absolutely follows beside Strange, his gaze drifting away to look around the English streets. They're dreary compared to Divinity's Reach, but there's still something familiar about the architecture.

It's probably rude not to be looking at Strange, biy that doesn't mean he isn't listening. In fact, he's listening quite closely--if he has no idea what's going on, he's just going to have to fake it until he does.

"Hm? Oh--yes." He turns back to Strange, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as his brain absently fills in what he's been told of Strange's home. "I can't imagine they will have worth to most people beyond collection, anyway. And there is no reason you cannot share what you purchase for yourself, isn't that right?"

Now that Syrlya isn't going to rat him out, Strange looks relieved. After all, he doesn't need to know that Strange doesn't have any intention on sharing whatever book he can find!

"You're right," he responds, with a little nod. "I think that most people would be content getting their magical knowledge from the periodicals. And now that there are barely any theoretical magicians left in England, there's only a handful who would want the books for proper study."

This is obviously a subject that Strange has mixed feelings about. As he describes the lack of theoretical magicians, he can't help but frown a little—though that frown fades as Strange continues talking. "Of course, none of this matters until I get the damn thing. We're turning left at the street corner, by the way. I don't know how well you know the area."

Because there's something in the back of his mind which tells Strange that Syrlya doesn't know the area at all.

Theoretical magician. That gets a raised eyebrow from Syrlya, because he has a hard time imagining way someone would bother to study magic without being practical about it. Of course, Syrlya is also used to basically everyone being able to use magic.

Strange's directions are welcome, and Syrlya completely follows his guidance to turn the corner. "Are these books something from before the magic here disappeared?" That's surely where most of them come from, right?

Sorry Syrlya, that's a question that puzzles Strange. Everyone should know that the books would be from the time of the Raven King. Shouldn't they? He gives Syrlya a bit of a confused look before he answers, "Of course they are. None of the theoretical magicians have published anything and Mister Norrell and I have only published articles."

He continues walking, but he's giving Syrlya a little frown, as dream logic tries to butt up against actual logic while Strange sorts this out.

"There's very few books of magic or books about magic that haven't been bought up already. I consider it a small miracle that Arabella and I were able to obtain the modest library that we have." It's got like ten books. Strange's personal library is much more modest than he's implying.

Syrlya purses his lips at Strange's confusion, before simply shrugging a shoulder to deflect his misspeaking. "Yes, of course."

He looks aside, into one of the windows of the shops to regard his own reflection. He's somehow not surprised to find a human face looking back at him, but that still doesn't provide him with a lot of answers. Was he always so confused about who he is?

"How many books do you think there are?" He doesn't expect a realistic answer to that, but it's something to get Strange to keep talking.

"In England total? I don't know. Available for purchase by the public? Probably less than ten—and even then, all of those are probably squirreled away somewhere, hidden away where neither Norrell nor his man of business could find them."

Not that Strange is bitter or anything! Except for the fact that nope, he is so bitter. And he's failing miserably at hiding just how bitter he is. He's choosing his words carefully but there's something so familiar about Syrlya that makes Strange feel like he'd be a good companion to complain to.

"Ill eccentrics passing away are my only chance at getting a magic library of my own without any of Norrell's needless restrictions. And even then, there's only so many dukes and barons conveniently on their deathbed."

"You made it sound as though this trip was going to be more fruitful," Syrlya hums as he glances back to Strange. The numbers don't quite add up--what is he hoping to find, one? "I think restoring magic would get much further if any of you were inclined to trust one another."

Not that he's surprised, he's seen the amount of backstabbing that occurs in human politics. He can't imagine actually trying to keep up with any of it in the long term. At least it only takes one person repairing broken bridges to effect some real change, there. They just have to start.

He is indeed hoping to just find one. If he finds one single book of magic in the entire contents of this man's library, it'd be worth it.

"I am his apprentice. There are a few books that are out of my breadth or that we'll cover later in my schooling or that are simply too dangerous." There's a pause, before Strange gives Syrlya a tense smile and wryly adds, "Or at least, I believe that's what he'd say. I know Norrell's hidden some books from me, I simply don't know why."

References that don't go anywhere, little notes that reference books not in his library...those books must be away from London, back at Norrell's home of Hurtfew for some damn reason. Strange turns another corner and his eyes light up slightly as he spots a building. He picks up the pace a little as he walks towards the building: a ramshackle bookstore, crammed between two other buildings.

"I meant more than the two of you--" But that thought gets cut off as Strange picks up his pace. Syrlya speeds up to match him, looking over the bookstore in the distance. That, at least, is easily identifiable even if he can't read whatever the sign says (and even outside a dream, he wouldn't be able to).

As they hurry to the bookstore, Strange starts telling Syrlya his plan. Or, considering this is Jonathan Strange, what passes for a plan.

"When we arrive, I will ask the proprietor about the collection he just purchased. I doubt Norrell himself will go to the bookstore, but if you spot John Childermass, could you please distract the man for a few minutes while I look? He's very tall, shabby looking, probably with his hair pulled back." Despite the fact that Strange and Childermass are close friends in the carnival, here he's describing Childermass like he's some rando off the street or a friend of a friend. There's no trace of affection in Strange's words.

"I doubt I'll find anything," Strange remarks, "but I've still got to try." He holds the door open for Syrlya, giving him a wide grin as they enter. Even now, Strange can't really push down his excitement.

"I know what Childermass looks like," Syrlya mumbles offhandedly as he walks in and glances around the bookstore. Somehow, he has a hard time focusing on any of the covers enough to read them.

"But why do I need to distract him?" He looks over his shoulder to Strange. "Do you expect him to dissuade you from purchasing any if you do find something?"

The covers of the books blend together, like a watercolor painting. Most are untitled, or titled something like 'Book About History'. The few books that do have proper titles only have a sentence or two inside of them, repeated over and over again, or a plot summary of what the book's about. Strange's subconscious is filling in broad strokes of the dream, not finicky details. There's a few odd things about the bookstore as well: the inner layout doesn't match up with the outside at all.

"I expect him to try and purchase whatever I'm purchasing for Mister Norrell!" Strange responds, as if it's obvious enough. "But he can't have it. As we've established, I'm allowed a library of my own." Thankfully, his dream is kind enough that Childermass isn't there. There's a few people, standing around in ways where Syrlya can't see their faces, and an intensely generic looking store clerk.

Strange and the store clerk start to have a conversation. About half a minute later, the clerk motions for the two to follow him to a back room. And, grinning wildly at Syrlya, Strange gestures for the other man to follow.

Is this a tutelage or a rivalry? Humans are so strange.

The more Syrlya stares at the books, the more obvious it is that something's wrong. He reaches for one, flipping it open, only to find a bunch of nonsense. Is this an illusion?

Oh. Or a dream.

He sets the book down and turns on his heels to follow Strange, suddenly much more interested in where this is going. "Keeping it private, is he?"

"It seems so!" Strange brightly responds. Unlike Syrlya, he hasn't really caught onto the dream aspect of all this. "I wonder what's so important that he's keeping them private."

The two are led to a smaller back room. There's about five or so bookshelves, packed heavily with books. The titles of these books, however, are readable. Some are concise, one or two word titles: 'Respect', 'Acknowledgement', 'Stronger Magic.' Others are longer, more specific titles: 'An Apology from Lambert', 'A Changed Contract Between Ignatius and Myself', 'Yuya To Succeed At Magic', 'To See Arabella's Smile Again.' If they're opened up and read, then the inside text contains exact instructions or an exact description of the title's subject.

Strange is looking at all the books with an expression of amazement and confusion. "This isn't fair," he mutters, more to himself than to Syrlya. "I want all of these."

It's a little nosy to peruse... okay, it's very nosy, but he's curious. He takes a slow walk around the titles before opting to pick up the 'Acknowledgement' book, flipping it open to read the contents.

"Can't afford them all?" Syrlya asks offhandedly. Not that any of these are things affordable in real life for money, but the dream seems to have put them in a much more tangible and transient form.

There's actual text inside 'Acknowledgement': Jonathan Strange knew he was one of the greatest magicians of the age. As such, he did not expect any compliments or 'thank yous' from those he performed magic for. But a part of him wished for them anyway. The book goes on to describe various instances, both in England and in the carnival, where Strange performed a piece of magic and would have liked to hear a simple 'good job' or acknowledgement that the magic must have been hard, but received nothing in return. There's a few instances described where he failed a piece of magic but still would have liked a 'you tried your best.' All in all, the book is a list of every time Strange wished his skills, his magic, or himself were acknowledged by someone else.

Strange himself hasn't opened any of the books yet. He's looking through all the titles, with a little frown.

"That's not it," Strange answers Syrlya's question, as he looks at the bookshelf with a little frown. He can't really explain why he can't take all of these: just that somewhere, inside him, he knows it's not feasible. Dream logic is at work here. "I just can't have them all."

But he can have some. He reaches up to take a book titled 'To Be With Arabella'. And then, Strange pauses again, looking over the books like he's not entirely sure which one he wants to take next.

Edited 2018-06-26 14:42 (UTC)

Syrlya doesn't think much of the desire to receive some praise or consideration in itself. That's normal, anyone wants it. It's the continued list of situations where he felt unappreciated that makes Syrlya's eyebrows raise. It's much more specific than he expected, and he still dwells on it?

Syrlya glances over to Strange with a look of slight curiosity, before he closes the book and returns it to the spot. This probably is all mostly personal. "So you will have to decide which ones are most important for you to pursue."

Obviously. He picks up another book, but only to read the cover instead of opening it. "Who is Arabella? Someone to do with that gem of yours?"

Syrlya's question jolts Strange out of his thinking. Who's Arabella? Had he honestly not told Syrlya who Arabella was? Strange is a bit surprised that he's getting that question to begin with!

"She's my wife," he answers, like it's obvious. Opening his book in his hands, Strange flips through it, before stopping on a picture. "Here, take a look."

It's a drawing of a woman, a few years younger than Strange and the same woman who shows up in the memories broadcast by his creepy gem. The woman in the drawing has dark eyes and brown hair pulled up into a bun. A few loose curls frame her face. She's also wearing Regency attire. All in all, there's something a little too perfect about the drawing, like the artist is ignoring all the subject's flaws. But, to be fair, this is Strange's dream. He ignores most of Arabella's flaws to begin with.

"There we go. That's Arabella." Careful Syrlya, Strange is about to fall right into soppy lovestruck husband mode if not careful.

Edited 2018-06-26 16:17 (UTC)

"Oh, you're married." That surprises him, less because of Strange being married and more because most people he would call friends ultimately haven't been. It's probably that whole 'the world is ending' thing, it tends to take priority.

He leans over to peer at the picture. She looks like a pleasant enough person, anyway. "You might consider being a little more mindful before you widow her."

Edited 2018-06-26 16:36 (UTC)

Strange is still a bit foggy, not really realizing that this is a dream. So Syrlya's statement strikes him as...odd. Widow her? Why would he do that? He didn't die in the peninsula and something happened to his curse to stabilize it. Besides, he came back to life in the carnival. Surely that must count for something!

Without thinking, he takes the books titled 'A Changed Contract Between Ignatius and Myself' and 'Using Magic More Effectively' from the shelves and adds them to the stack of books he's carrying. The mushi are keeping this from turning into a nightmare, but they can't keep the slight irritation out of Strange's voice.

"To widow someone, one must die. That won't happen to me."

Syrlya snorts. 'That won't happen' as if most people anticipate dying before it happens. If he's killed, it may not be his choice--but Syrlya thinks he shouldn't increase the risk being impulsive.

"You'll have to forgive me if, given your track record, I am a little skeptical." He folds his arms as he leans over to see what books he's collecting next. "You will not try to have the contract broken entirely?"

"I don't know if I can," Strange admits. "When have you ever seen the Ringmaster willingly break a contract?"

Because in his mind, the answer to that is never. She'll send people home occasionally, but always with the intent that they'll come back. Strange isn't entirely certain if Ignatius could break a contract to begin with. Now that he's fiddled around with that sort of magic himself, he knows how strong it is.

"I'll ask, though. And if that doesn't work, then I'll try to see if I can get the terms rearranged. Perhaps we can settle on something like I help him out as much as I can while he's in the carnival, he lets me have five or ten years with Arabella before calling on me to serve."

day 69ish, dream time

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