lostcarnival | ⇨ CONFLAGRATION

Entry tags:

⇨ CONFLAGRATION

Who: The Ringmaster, Peridot, Amethyst, Shima, Tyki, Childermass and Ignatius.
When: Day 68
Where: THE CENTER OF THE (OTHER) MOON.
What: The Ringmaster has recruited the help of a not-so-elite group of carnival members to help her deal with the imprisoned Ignatius.
Warnings: Weird egg stuff.

THE FIERY ONE↴
When you meet up with the Ringmaster at the portal she's in her humanoid form, but that doesn't last long. After a brief period of waiting, she will take you back to the carnival grounds, still fresh and partially undefined from her rebuilding. It's familiar, but as if details have been left out - like a painting that's not finished yet. The sky isn't right, and and the forests are oddly barren.

She'll assure you she simply isn't finished with it yet, but that this has taken precedence. Soon, she'll be turning into her dragon form and whisking you all away, up into the second moon. The flight happens almost instantaneously - first you see the carnival grounds, then the sandy oceans of the moon - then, you see nothing.

It doesn't last for long, though. A ring of glowing stones light up the new space you're filling - a cavern carved out of the center of the moon itself. Unlike the moon with the Blue Rose, however, it isn't perfectly spherical, and gravity goes straight down. There is a rough, uneven floor you can walk on steadily, with boulders and rocks scattered about. The Ringmaster's current dragon form fills about half of it.

In the center of the room there are two man-sized eggs. One glows brightly with an inner light, radiating heat. The other does as well, but less so. There's an impromptu nest of rocks around them, preventing them from falling over.

The Ringmaster seems unsure of how to start.

"So," she begins, uncertainly. She is till hunched over in dragon form. "This... is a bit complicated."

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A little encouragement from Amethyst and that demonstration from the Ringmaster is enough to bolster Peridot's confidence; she's considering grabbing the egg herself and bubbling it for storage, just before shit starts popping off.

For now, she just makes a note that Tyki has it, and hopes that wherever he put it, the fae won't be able to sense it on him. They can discuss what to do with the heart after they get through this, once Ignatius is out of earshot.

For now, Peridot tenses and subtly curls her tail around Amethyst's ankle, watching the hatching with rapt attention. Her eyes flick to the hand...

"Uh. Did he always have claws like that?" She whispers to the rest of the group, sounding mildly concerned.

All Peridot's question gets from Childermass in response is the usual shrug, which is entirely unhelpful. For his own part, he's simply waiting, watching, as ever, from a safe distance away. Hands folded behind his back, he's retreated to the typical 'sure does look bored in the face of this nonsense' expression that most here should be familiar enough with. It isn't necessarily true, but it's always safer to present no reaction whatsoever in his own opinion.

Waiting, watching, wondering if they actually should have added 'clothing' to the list they gave the Ringmaster just before...

He seems oblivious to the presence of the others at first, too preoccupied with the oppressive walls of... whatever this is, to observe anything beyond it. All he knows is that he's been trapped for what feels like a long time already, and that at some point after being eaten things shifted, and ended up like this.

The fact that he can move at all is some desperately needed respite, but the more he does move the more he realizes something is wrong. It's a feeling that goes beyond just that of atrophied muscles and exhausted nausea. There is something primal about him that's changed, and the absence feels worse than the hole in his chest he had earlier.

He breaks out of the top of the egg, wretching. There's enough space now for the rest of his body to start slipping out, and enough for him to just start to notice the things that are different. The claws on his hands and feet, the way his fiery hair grows all the way down his back like a mane instead of just atop his head. The speckles of scale-like patterns on his shoulders, the ridges on his head, and most obviously... the tail that slips out after him, tangling around his legs.

He vomits something molten into the grass, setting a patch of it aflame. He's clearly lost a bunch of weight from the process - still muscular, but less so than before. There's too much going on for him to absorb all at once, and a feeling of falling apart fills his head more than anything else.

He has no idea what's going on. The possibility of this had never once occurred to him in the entirety of his life.

He looks up towards the giant wing above them and he has to admit it is a little reassuring to have her there. He looks back at Childermass and his usual expression then down towards the others that have backed away. He takes a look over to see if anyone else is near him up front but then decides it is fine if no one is.

He doesn't feel a sense of danger. This isn't what he expected. The detailed description he received of Ignatius is on point but there are a lot of differences. Peridot's question makes more sense now and he side eyes the Ringmaster again. Such a clever woman but this has to be upsetting.

He knows it was for him. For many. Even as Ignatius sets the patch of grass on fire, Tyki's voice is smooth and calm, "Take it slow. Easy and slow. Take a deep breath while you're at it."

Tyki's words, unfortunately, mostly just have the effect of forcefully drawing Ignatius's attention towards the fact that he isn't alone. He tries to stand up immediately, unwilling to hunch over like that when he has an audience. However, he barely has the strength to pull it off, his feet awkwardly staggered as his eyes settle on Tyki, and then on the Ringmaster.

"What have you done to me?" he roars, his voice shaken with genuine horror and confusion. He wobbles down to his knees shortly after, having to set down a hand to support himself. The other hand goes up to his chest, like he's feeling for something that isn't there - like he willing to try to tear his way in to see what's gone wrong.

The Ringmaster visibly flinches as Ignatius turns on her, hunching her shoulders and lowering that wing enough to shield the others from a potential attack. Yet, nothing comes, and she's finding herself shaken in a different way. She wants to explain, but...

"Ignatius. It's... It's not like that," she tries, but her own belief in her words is lacking.

What has she done?

Amethyst peers at him wide-eyed around the bottom of the Ringmaster's wing. "Uuhh... is he OK? You just took the fire, right...?" That said, she's realising she doesn't actually know what that means in practice. Her hand goes unconsciously to her gem.

"She's done the only thing she could do, given what has happened."

Childermass steps in (although not literally, as he only takes a step or two forward, no intention of putting himself within some angry general's reach).

Edited 2018-06-14 01:28 (UTC)

When the Ringmaster flinches and gives her hesitant reply, it makes it abundantly clear why she needed support for this. Well, she'd wanted to know what Shima could do, and Shima happens to have been building experience when it comes to talking to reluctant targets. And he figures if they want Ignatius to listen they need to meet at least some of his expectations so he doesn't feel completely out of grip, and the best way to do that is not to be too gentle.

He glances up at the Ringmaster before reaching for her wing, patting it in a vaguely comforting way as he gestures his request for her to lower it enough around them so they can see over it.

"So yeah, try not ta freak out or anything, but since our Ringmaster here doesn't actually want ya dead, ya've had your heart sealed inta another vessel. Not unheard of where I'm from, actually. Doesn't seem like a mercy from looking at ya, but it ain't gone, just somewhere ya can't get at it for now since we're keeping ya prisoner."

Edited 2018-06-14 02:08 (UTC)

Peridot is watching this whole situation unfold with an increasing amount of fear. Ignatius is a mess, and yet somehow he makes for an intimidating presence even without access to his domain. And all of that doesn't even begin to touch on the strangeness of the changes he appears to have developed from the ordeal he just went through. That's what disturbs her on a level that she can't even really begin to explain. It's one thing for a non-fae to be affected in such a way, but to see another high fae go through this...? She wonders if there is even a precedent for this in their society.

Through all this, it's tempting to hang back and keep her silence, but... she's also keenly aware that the Ringmaster brought her here to help. She needs to be courageous.

She tries to think of what Steven would do, and after Shima speaks up, she takes a step forward to stand next to Childermass, making a placating hand gesture towards Ignatius. "M-maybe you should sit down..."

"She didn't do this in a twisted way. Not as punishment or to torment," he says with some mild understanding. There wasn't much else to it. The Ringmaster seemed reluctant to kill. He glances back at the others attempting to explain. It's the truth and a good start.

He wants to offer his hand to help him to his feet but there is a part of him that understands Ignatius might want to stand on his own two feet right now. With this fae, compared to a few others, he's not really all that afraid or hesitant. Ignatius didn't attack right away despite being upset. So instead he squats down to get on his level, watching him with an neutral expression, as Ignatius seems to struggle to get onto his feet, "Or I can help you to your feet if you need it. None of us are here to hurt you. This is your choice. No one will make you do anything unpleasant. Not like before." To which he means with Lambert, Rita, or Syrlya.

What Shima is saying actually sort of makes sense to him - at least what he can comprehend through the rising hysteria inside of him. It's not as simple as just separating him from his power source, it's separating him from a part of himself. The sheer reality of it is enough to rock his foundations, let alone the fact that he's apparently had his form mutilated with bestial traits.

"Then you should have killed me," he says, his voice frenetic with panic, his hand outstretched as he looks at the changes to his body. "I don't want your mercy - do you even understand what you've done?" He looks at Tyki like a cornered animal. "Stay away from me."

He'd be better off dead - better that than made like this, so disgraced by what they did to him that he'd barely know how to return home before.

It's the thought of home now that threatens to break him.

Okay so clearly being soft and soothing isn't actually helpful angle to take here. Good to know.

Different tactic, then. The more Ignatius speaks, the more he's starting to remind her of a wounded and desperate Jasper... Which, weirdly enough? Makes him a bit easier for her to speak to with confidence.

"I don't," Peridot says bluntly. Understand, she means. She cocks her head slightly, watching the fae carefully. There's nothing hostile or cruel in her tone; just simple curiosity "Maybe you'd care to explain...?"

Edited 2018-06-14 02:47 (UTC)

He doesn't really want to explain - not to the mortals. He isn't even sure if he has the words for it, since it's something he's never experienced or anticipated could be done to a High Fae.

It was bad enough when they'd so soundly bested him with powers he didn't comprehend. Now this... this is worse. Death seems far preferable to even being recovered by the Summer Court like this. What would they even do with him? What would the Summer Queen do?

Instead of explaining, he just sinks back down to his knees, bracing his arms against the floor and staring at the space between them.

"Why do you want me alive?"

"Hmm, yes, if only anyone here could empathize with being altered so against their will," Childermass says to the complete and utter lack of response to Peridot. He knows the Ringmaster brought them here to help but if he won't accept kindness, well.

"Though the difference here would seem to be that we want you alive simply because we have no desire to see you dead, much less so to keep you here, trapped, forever. Perhaps that is something we, on our own part, will not be able to make you understand for once."

Because the High Fae seem to think they know mortals so well, so well that it's easy to dismiss them, not even try. Ignatius might be different, but Childermass is doubtful.

Hmm, alright then. So much for that. He was only really being considerate given how the situation seemed so familiar. Instead of he just nods along to Ignatius request with a faint gesture of his hand, "Alright."

He breathes in, rolls back on his heels and scoots back away from Ignatius. He knows that cornered look. His question is a good one and his eyes turn towards him, "The Ringmaster wants you alive, and that is all that matters to me. None of us really want you dead either."

He flops onto his side, his tail lazily swaying against the grass as he breathes in his cigarette and snorts, "Right, right. None of us understand that at all."

"Actually..." Shima glances at the Ringmaster here again, possibly just to let her know he knows what he's doing, "I'm sure some wouldn't mind too much ta see ya dead, but there's no point if she doesn't want it."

He lets himself past the Ringmaster's wing now, casual but careful not to be within easy reach of the fae.

"The thing is, the Carnival can't be free unless something that's never been done happens, right? Ya just got unlucky enough that when ya underestimated the people who called ya out, ya ended up part of something impossible. It's all gonna be different, and unpleasant as hell, actually, but you'll live."

Ignatius's gaze turns to settle on each of the people speaking in turn, lingering on Shima for the longest. He wobbles down to the ground, sitting on his butt instead of crouching on his knees - his tail flops uselessly, without the muscle definition or strength to do anything else.

Nothing they say will change how doomed he already is, but maybe he at least understands what they are intending - even if he can confidently say it isn't any mercy. After the things he's been experiencing, he's not sure what mercy really is anymore.

"I don't know how you'll do that," he says. "It's not really... about you. Only what you represent."

He sounds hopeless, but at least he's responding to them directly this time.

They're literally just winging it, Ignatius.

"Yeah, I noticed the Fae seem ta have a hard time hearing us lesser beings, especially in groups. I wonder if ya remember me from Mr. Count's Elysium. Shima by the way, nice ta meet ya."

Peridot has given up on standing by this point, and slips into crouching down where she's still standing next to Childermass. She's watching Ignatius with that same concentrated stare, frowning thoughtfully.

"So. By 'what we represent', you mean what, exactly...?"

She can take a guess, but. It helps to hear the answer to even the most obvious questions in someone else's words, when you're trying to figure them out.

Edited 2018-06-14 04:23 (UTC)

"A rogue wyld fae, I imagine," Childermass answers, turning to look down at Peridot. "The Count did say they can punish us for her crimes just as much as they could her directly."

But then his attention flits back up, first to Shima, who is doing admirably well. He'll have to tell him as much later, but until then, his gaze will resettle on Ignatius.

"We're a persistent lot, have no doubt of that." Since they are, irrationally so at times. "We'll figure something out, but perhaps we should give you some time to adjust without an audience first..."

Edited 2018-06-14 04:30 (UTC)

"Fear," he says, loudly enough that he speaks over Childermass's attempt to give him a break. "Instability. Both of the Courts are still struggling with the aftermath of what your master started." He gives the Ringmaster a pointed glance. "And she... you. You're the only ones they can touch."

Going after the Summer Maiden is too risky, and going after the Winter Queen... That's something else entirely.

"One of your men... felt the need to share with me that the Winter Queen is untrustworthy. As if we didn't already know." His words become clipped with his obvious stress. "We've known that since before she ever ascended."

That's more the kind of answer she was expecting. Sure, the carnival changelings themselves might represent a 'rogue wyld fae', as Childermass so eloquently put it. But then what does that represent to the rest of the fae?

She's distracted from further contemplation by what Ignatius says next. One of their men...? What the heck is he talking about? She glances around, first at her companions and then back at the Ringmaster, to try and get a sense of whether they might have more of a clue than she does.

"Lambert," the Ringmaster rumbles, her muscles tensing. "He was acting outside of my orders. I had no desire to prolong this conflict with the Summer Court, and I have no desire to punish you for the commands of your Queen."

She's quiet for a moment, and then:

"Or, the general ignorance of your people."

Tyki continues to lounge there on his side in an almost disinterested way. None of this war stuff mattered other than the fact they were swept up in it. He could save, help, or kill Ignatius personally depending on what the Ringmaster wanted. This change he was undergoing wasn't mercy. No, it was far from it. This cave was better than a stomach in his opinion but if Ignatius preferred death then he's sure he can find some way to piss off the right person in the carnival.

He's watching the others until Ignatius mentions the bit about sharing information. One of theirs did? He pipes up because he wants to know, "One of ours?" He wants to consider that person is Strange but then Tyki didn't like to assume. The Ringmaster answers and his gaze tracks back up to her. Ah, that idiot. Who share information with the enemy?

"Good input," he says to the Ringmaster. It seems they are giving her a little more confidence, "But I suppose you're free to sit here and wallow in such upsetting news. Not that it'll do you any good." He expected a warrior to fight, to push forward, or at least adapt. This was just disheartening.

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