if you ain't getting drunk, get the fuck out the trailer

[kingsroads]

WHO: Strange & Lambert
WHEN: Day 77, after Moss and Shimmer's talk
WHERE: Lambert's trailer
WHAT: booze. and probably eventual talking of plot and maybe Strange'll actually tell Lambert about the deal with Ignatius. but mostly booze
WARNINGS: booooooze

Considering that Strange had already gotten sloppy drunk with Shimmer, he probably shouldn't be getting sloppy drunk with Lambert. But fuck it. The Ignatius thing had been weighing on his mind to the point where even after recovering from a hangover, Strange decided he wanted another drink. He should tell someone. But part of Strange doesn't want to tell anyone about it until Eden proper, just so the Ringmaster and himself can be spared a bit of yelling and spared people trying to persuade him otherwise.

Add in all that about the Huntsman...and yeah, Strange wants some booze. It'd be even better if he had the booze with Lambert. It's been far too long since the two of them just got drunk.

In true Strange fashion, he doesn't use the door to get into Lambert's trailer. This time he enters as smoke, slipping into the trailer through a crack underneath the doorjam. Strange resolidifies: even though they're off of camping time, he's still wearing a variation on his camping outfit of light cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up past the elbows, khaki trousers.

"I hope you summon your soul at some point during the evening," Strange calls out, as he starts to make his way to Lambert's kitchen area, walking in here like he owns the place. "I'm overdue a conversation with Celandine."

Comments

[kingsroads]

Strange can't help but laugh a little at that, shaking his head. "It really didn't," he'll admit. Because yeah, while the blood contract idea was good in theory, in practice Strange and Lambert are just stubborn enough that they'll push forward anyway despite some common sense.

"We can nullify it, if you want. It should be a simple thing to do."

[whattaprick]

"Probably a good idea," Celandine agrees. "We don't know what's waiting for us in Eden, or with the Fae ... and being able to act and think quickly might be more important then."

Beyond the door, it's gone quiet, but there's no sign of Lambert coming back yet. Celandine studies the floorboards, for a long moment, before she finally ventures:

"We wanted to tell you. You know, about Childermass." It's not an apology, and probably an apology isn't ever forthcoming about that, but that much is the truth.

[kingsroads]

It's not an apology at all. But, though he hates it, Strange has pretty much accepted the fact that he's never getting an actual apology. This won't give him what he really wants or entirely fix the problem of Strange still being a bit bitter that neither Lambert nor Childermass see the utter stupidity of their actions. But it's the closest thing he'll ever get, so he might as well accept it.

"If you wanted to, then you should have," Strange simply remarks, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. There's resignation in his voice as he continues, "But you're too much of a lovestruck idiot to actually go against him, aren't you."

Says the other lovestruck idiot.

[whattaprick]

"Well..." Celandine says, long and drawn-out. "You know better than anyone else what that's like, don't you?"

[kingsroads]

...shut up.

"My point still stands," Strange grumbles, as he sinks into the couch a bit. Celandine's right and he knows it. "You should have told me earlier."

[whattaprick]

"We can't change what's past, no matter how many times you say it," Celandine points out. She sounds a little distracted, distant, but her tone is conciliatory.

"We were afraid it wasn't real."

[kingsroads]

"Would it be so bad if it wasn't?"

Now it's Strange's turn to seem a little distracted. He's obviously thinking of a specific example. Yes, it was horrible that the Arabella he danced with at the Prince's ball wasn't really his wife. But now that he knew it, would he give up those hours of happiness? Not at all.

[whattaprick]

Celandine doesn't answer the question immediately, thinking it over.

"Don't we all just want to be seen for who we are, and not what other people think we should be?"

[kingsroads]

"You didn't answer my question," Strange remarks, with a wry little smile. Still, Celandine offered a question so he'll at least answer. Strange takes a drink of wine before answering the question.

"I suppose that depends on what other people think in the first place. For example, I'm not a good person. But if Arabella or someone else thinks I should be, I wouldn't mind if they saw me that way."

[whattaprick]

"You don't think that feels like you're lying to them?" Celandine asks, with apparent genuine curiosity. "Like you've tricked them into thinking you're something you're not?"

[kingsroads]

There's more of a pause before Strange starts speaking again.

"I don't really know," he admits. The main time Strange felt that he might have tricked someone into thinking he's something he isn't was when he first became a magician and at the start of the Peninsular Campaign. And, at least with both of those, he became the person they thought he'd be. "Is that how you feel with Childermass?"

[whattaprick]

Somehow, yet again, they keep coming around to talk about this. It makes Celandine feel a little miserable, but it's part of why they wished they could talk to Strange about it in the first place, but she desperately needs someone else to talk to about this who isn't just Childermass or Lambert.

"About a lot of things," Celandine admits. 'Imposter syndrome' isn't a term either she or Lambert are remotely familiar with, but, well, it's the trouble with having low self-esteem at heart (a problem Jonathan Strange likely isn't remotely familiar with). They know they didn't deserve they life they had, but what do they deserve? More to the point, does it matter?

"We're not used to having anything to lose, or wanting not to lose them." And now there's everything. Respect, trust, friendship, love ... and the freedom to pursue all those things.

[kingsroads]

Now that, Strange can understand. Not the lack of having anything to lose, but not wanting to lose something to begin with. After all, he learned some fun new ways to lose friends and alienate people when he thought Arabella was dead.

"I think I can understand that," Strange explains, after a small pause. He has no idea what to do here and no idea if his words are even helping, but he cares about Lambert and wants to at least give it a try. "You only know how precious something is to you when it's lost." Arabella. His magic. The simple concept of free will. All things that Strange never thought he'd lose and, now that he's had to deal with them being gone or lessened at certain points, he's desperately going to cling onto instead.

"But think of it this way. Both Childermass and I have seen so many sides of you that even if you were lying to us, it would have been shot to hell and back by now. There's nothing to worry about." And once again, he reaches over to pet Celandine. This conversation's getting a little heavy, so maybe scratches could lighten the mood.

[whattaprick]

"That's an awful thing to say to make someone feel better, Strange." And yet, there's something like a smile in the polecat's voice. Because she and Lambert are sort of awful people, meaning that sort of thing does make them feel better. Like this, it's difficult to hear any sort of thing like 'you're not a bad person' or 'you're worth something' and actually believe it, but being reminded that other people aren't inclined to waste their time on lost causes... well, it's poor comfort, but it's comfort enough.

This time, Celandine doesn't pull away, though she won't exactly lean into Strange's touch, either. She's mulling over his words, remembering them for later, when Lambert unsummons her again and this knowledge -- and this feeling -- is something they can share. She sighs, tail flicking.

"He's coming back out," she announces, a bit drowsily -- and when Lambert does come out of the bedroom, he looks notably more flushed and a little unsteady. Also, he's holding a different, half-full bottle of alcohol.

"All right," he announces, stepping over to the couch and flopping down on it again so that Celandine is between him and Strange. "Let's try that again."

[kingsroads]

As Celandine announces that Lambert's returning, Strange turns to look at his friend...already one sheet to the wind. He lets out a small chuckle before taking a bottle on the table and downing a bit of it himself. Looks like he'll need to catch up.

"You left before I could tell you why he was coming," Strange mused. And yes, he just told Celandine, but considering Lambert hasn't unsummoned her yet, he doesn't know that part. He's still petting Celandine, alternating between scratching her neck and running a finger down her back as he looks over at Lambert.

"If Ignatius comes with us to Eden, I help keep him safe, and I give him the protections that I'd give other carnival members, then he'll break our agreement and I'll be free." There's a hint of a pleading tone in Strange's voice as he continues. "Even if it's a bad idea, I've got to try it."

[whattaprick]

“You should have waited until I was drunk,” Lambert answers, but he sounds distracted, mainly because Strange is being distracting. Does he even know how distracting that is?

“It’s a terrible idea, but it’s not your worst idea,” is his unsympathetic verdict, but he just sighs. “Too much to hope for that he’d just let you go. Out of the goodness of his heart, or just to show he’s willing to play along.”

[kingsroads]

Strange does know that petting Lambert's soul is a little distracting and that is one of the reasons why he's continuing to do it. Another reason is that he honestly likes Celandine and petting something fuzzy feels real nice right about now.

"It wasn't my idea in the first place," Strange points out. "He made the offer, I told the Ringmaster, she thought it was worth pursing." Which honestly? Strange is eternally grateful to the Ringmaster for thinking so. He's certain this will somehow go wrong, but just the idea of one less contract to worry about is reassuring.

[whattaprick]

"Seems too easy," Lambert mutters. "And if it was his idea, what's the catch?"

"That's what I said, too," Celandine chirps from under Strange's hand, yawning slightly to expose pink tongue and delicate fangs.

"Well, whatever it is, we'll just have to deal with it," Lambert grumbles, tipping his head back against the couch back. He's not thrilled about it, but there isn't really that much to do. "And if it works out, you're a free man. That's not nothing."

He still can't possibly imagine what Ignatius gets out of this, though. Unless--

"Did he promise he wouldn't try to contact his Court? Or escape?"

[kingsroads]

"I'm almost a free man. I still have a curse and Nightshade's contract—and yes, I know that the Starlight's protection is keeping her from finding me. But in an ideal world, I'd have that contract removed all together."

Still, Strange has resigned himself to the fact that his contract with Nightshade will probably never be fully broken. Thanks for that, Portland Strange.

"As for the promises, I don't know the specifics of what the Ringmaster made him promise. But I doubt he'll try and contact the Summer Court. He'll be turned into an animal like the rest of us: how humiliating would that rescue be?"

Strange can't help but smile a little wryly at that. He doesn't know about the rest of the court, but he's fairly certain that if the Summer Court had to rescue animal-Ignatius, Nightshade would give him shit about it for the rest of eternity. And honestly, that might be worse than trying to ride out all of Eden.

[whattaprick]

“Not everyone has as inflated a sense of self-importance as you,” Lambert says, automatically giving Strange shit for the sake of giving him shit.

Still, he’ll relent.

“As long as he’s as good as his word, then that’s one less thing to worry about.” There are a lot of factors that might determine how well or not things work out for Strange, not the least of which is Ignatius getting out on a technicality, but ... he’ll swallow his doubts for now. Anyway, Strange might stop petting his slightly tipsy soul if Lambert says anything to that effect. Absently, he scratches along an arm, scarred where Nightshade’s seeds had to be dug out, and his expression grows pensive.

“Summer’s turning out to be more of a pain in the ass, considering the Ringmaster didn’t kill their queen.”

[kingsroads]

Not everyone has an inflated sense of self-importance as him, but Strange is preeeetty certain that Ignatius wouldn't want to go back to the Summer Court under less than ideal circumstances: he'd need to be his normal form and he'd need his Heart. At the mention of the Ringmaster killing the Winter Queen, a scowl crosses Strange's face.

"She should have told us about that Queen business earlier," Strange grumbles slightly, before taking another drink of alcohol. "I want to be mad and properly confront her about it, but considering that we're going from life-threatening situation to life-threatening situation, I don't have the time."

Not even the Ringmaster is exempt from Strange's petty grudges against people who don't tell him what he deems to be important.

[whattaprick]

“Would’ve been nice to know,” Lambert agrees, frowning. “There was a rumor she’d killed a winter fae back in Portland, but ... didn’t realize that was something that actually happened.”

He frowns at the ceiling, and Celandine stirs under Strange’s hand.

“Don’t,” she offers, sleepily. “You’ll hurt her feelings. Then you’ll end up just like Lambert.”

[kingsroads]

Strange can't help but smile a little at Celandine's words. He gives her a few scratches behind the ears before he continues talking.

"On the contrary, I wouldn't. Because I wouldn't pick a fight with her when there's a Summer Fae in danger of bleeding out on her doorstep." Though that does raise another question and Strange's smile turns to a little bit of a frown. "Can fae even bleed out in the first place?"

How does biology work, we just don't know.

[whattaprick]

Celandine sighs, but much like Lambert, she recognizes futility when she sees it. Maybe Strange will just have to deal with being thrown into a wall, too.

“I don’t think so,” Lambert shakes his head. “They’re basically beings just made of magic, aren’t they?”

“Like daemons!” Celandine chirps.

“You could ask West.” And the witcher gives a slow, shitty smirk at some private joke, while Celandine snickers into her fur. “Seems like he thinks about that kind of thing a lot.”

[kingsroads]

The problem here is that West's a creep. Strange frowns a little at the idea of asking West or even talking about fae biology with West to begin with.

"He'd probably get up in arms about how it isn't scientific enough." Strange scoffs a little, shaking his head. At least in Strange's mind, there's a sharp divide between things considered 'scientific' and things that are magic. "It's no use trying to think about these things like scholars or doctors do. After all, there's no scientific explanation for my hair or your horns."

Sorry Celandine, the petting has stopped for the moment as Strange reaches up to loosely twirl one of his curls around his finger. The end still burns, but the fire near Strange's hands doesn't seem to bother him that much.