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]

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.

[whattaprick]

“You just asked if a fae could bleed out. That’s about as scientific as it gets,” Lambert points out. Celandine huffs in protest, head twisting around. She’ll go for the hand not playing woth his hair, grabbing his thumb gently with her teeth and tug at it. Get the hint, magician!

As for the burning ends of his hair... Lambert regards it, seriously.

“You told me before the Carnival’s changes would fade,” he says, cocking his head. “You think that will too?” Though, looking at Strange ever so slightly on fire gives him an idea. A battered packet is produced after a bit of digging around in the cushions, and ... yep, that sure is Lambert leaning forward to light a cigarette off his best friend’s hair.

[kingsroads]

Strange can't help but laugh as Celandine starts yanking at his thumb. Fine, fine, he'll resume the petting! And so he does, scratching the back of Celandine's neck scruff with his claws.

Lambert lighting a cigarette doesn't give much of a reaction except for Strange to roll his eyes slightly. "I've no idea if this will fade," he'll admit, "but I'm certain that, like my smoke, I'll learn to control it with time."

Or at least, find a way to nullify it enough for public company. Strange can't really interact with English society with his hair on fire.

"I do have something that can help me out," Strange points out. "The Ringmaster managed to salvage my cloak from when..." from when Ignatius enthralled Strange. From when Strange almost killed Lambert. "...from all that business. It's fire resistant! I've been wrapping it up and using it as a pillow, but I'll be certain to actually wear it on our next nightrunner mission."

[whattaprick]

Lambert doesn’t immediately answer, taking a moment to get a few fortifying lungfuls of sweet, sweet nicotine first. It also serves the function of forcing him to take deep breaths before he can say anything too incendiary, which is no doubt already of questionable wisdom around a man constantly on fire.

‘All that business.’ Nice euphemism for dying.

“Hate to remind you, but you aren’t a nightrunner anymore, remember?” Strange may have actively chosen to forget that inconvenient fact. That’s the sort of thing he does. “Might wanna use it to keep yourself from torching your books. Or get part of it turned into a hat.”

[kingsroads]

"I'm certain I'll be back on the team before long," Strange simply remarks. His fingers move to scratch Celandine under her chin as he continues to talk. "After all, we both know I'm a poor fit for everything else."

Sure, he might be able to be halfway decent in Diplomacy if only because he's good at making friends. But the idea of him in Engineering or Medical is laughable and Strange knows that he'd be a terrible fit for whatever they were calling Carly's department now (resources?). As for Acquisitions...Strange has his own pet theories on why the Ringmaster shoved him there, none of which involve his actual competence.

Strange gives Lambert a wry little smile as he continues talking. "Of course, if I don't fit any departments, then the best thing to do is start up one of my own. Perhaps I'll expand my magic lessons: Lord knows everyone needs them."

[whattaprick]

"You'd have to get me and Sans to take you back first," Lambert answer, laconically. And he has no intention of doing so. Strange gets into enough trouble all on his own just being Strange, without the excuse of it being his job or some such nonsense.

"I'm just surprised the Ringmaster didn't make you the head of research on your own. Probably guessed you and Rita would just end up fighting about it."

[kingsroads]

"I'll make myself the head of research anyway. After all, I'm the only one on the team without a second job." Rita's a nightrunner and Tanyuu works with medical. Both of them can just deal with it if Strange decides to just take over the Acquisition tent and make it his own.

"And like I said, you'll take me back eventually. I doubt Childermass will bring me on many of his missions—I'm rubbish at stealth. So, that leaves me either exploring things and learning about potentially dangerous fae artifacts under your supervision or on my own."

Strange knows he gets into enough trouble on his own and is perfectly fine using that as a bullying point to try and convince Lambert to see things his way.

[whattaprick]

Before Lambert can speak, Celandine suddenly sits up, pulling away from Strange's hand.

"Now you're not even listening to us and you're threatening us? Don't use Lambert caring about you just to get your way, Strange. That's low," she tells him plaintively, heading back to Lambert and taking herself out of his reach in a huff. Even if it may be meant as a joke (which Lambert doubts, really) it hits too close to home.

"As if you ever let us supervise you in the first place," Lambert snorts, instead, like the daemon's outburst never happened at all. The witcher picks up where Strange left off, running fingers through her bristling fur with one hand and taking another swig of alcohol.

[kingsroads]

"I'm not threatening you," Strange grumbles. "I'm pointing out the obvious."

They're going to try and find the Silver Mirror. No matter what the others think or warn him about, Strange is still dead-set on finding and possibly using the Mirror himself. He knows this. Lambert knows this. But Strange would rather have Lambert on his side for back-up and support then have to go at this alone.

Besides, he's one of the few in the group who has any actual combat experience. They'll take him back (he hopes).

"As for supervising, you barely make an attempt! Half the times you could have supervised me, you were off doing things like fighting for Creation with a motorcycle horse." Or being murdered at the Prince's manor, but Strange is smart enough to bring up the silly example for teasing. He gives Lambert a little shrug before he takes another drink.

[whattaprick]

Lambert shrugs. "There's only so much I can tell you scry for something and get pitch black water, Strange. I can't order you to fight something we can't find." Which happens far too often, really.

Celandine remains unmollified by the jest, even with Lambert's fingers stroking her.

"What should be obvious," she says, forbiddingly, "Is that if you do something stupid that gets you hurt, Lambert's going to do something even stupider."

[kingsroads]

"Then have me do things other than scry." As if to prove his point, Strange rubs his fingers together: a small flame lights up over where Strange's fingers are. He moves his hand as the flame moves from the tips of his fingers to his knuckles, to the palm of his hand. Once it's there, Strange closes his hand and snuffs the flame out. He's talking as he literally plays with fire.

"My magic grows stronger every day. I shouldn't be reduced to leafing through old books or scrying for missing carnival members as a means where I can help."

No comment about Celandine's statement. Strange remembers Portland, he knows that Lambert's decision making skills go straight out of the window when someone he cares about is hurt.

[whattaprick]

"Strange," Lambert says, conversationally. "You realize the only thing I'd ask you to with that magic as a member of the militia, right? Hurt people. Imprison them. Kill them, if I thought that's what's necessary. I didn't realize you were so bloodthirsty."

His hand stills on Celandine's fur, taking another drink before he continues. "If you want someone who can really use you, Childermass knows magic better than I do. And he thinks things through more." A tendency to caution and foresight much better developed than Lambert's own, and that contrast is probably part of how he ended up hopelessly attracted to the man in the first place.

"Why do you actually want to work for Lambert, Strange?" Celandine chimes in, watching the magician with wide, golden eyes. "You can't possibly hate the idea of listening to a servant that much." This time, with Lambert reluctant and unable to voice all his niggling doubts, she speaks sharply for them both.

[kingsroads]

It's Strange's turn to glare at Celandine. Obviously he doesn't like the implication that something as silly as Childermass's status is what bothers him.

"Do you honestly think Childermass would use me to begin with? I'm well aware that he doesn't trust me as much as I trust him." Thanks for that, secret boyfriend nonsense plus Childermass's well-documented history of not telling Strange shit.

"But you trust me," Strange remarks, gesturing with the now mostly empty bottle. He's obviously a little bit wasted. "And I trust you in return. And though you and the Ringmaster seem to forget it, I've always been a soldier. I've fought in the peninsula and I've worked well with the Nightrunners ever since I arrived here. My quarrel is with magic that can bind people against their will, not with murder. I can kill if needed."

I almost killed you, Strange thinks, before biting back the words. Instead, he takes another large drink from the bottle he's holding.