lostcarnival | ⇨ EDEN PT. 3

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⇨ EDEN PT. 3

Who: Everyone!
When: End of Day 88, on to Day 89
Where: Eden
What: The carnival breaks into two groups, as one entertains the Architect Samyaza at her festival, and the other assaults the Cathedral through a secret passageway with the intent of claiming the Silver Mirror and liberating those imprisoned.
Warnings: Ritual sacrifices.

IN GOD'S HANDS↴

Only those left in Eden and remaining undetected will be able to come to Samyaza's festival, which is an increasingly small group. It's also a dangerous proposition - there's no way to know what Samyaza has in store for her visitors, only that she apparently wants to interact with them before allowing the other Architects to act. It could work as an excellent distraction, drawing the eyes of the Architects towards the festival instead of towards the Cathedral while the attempt to claim the Mirror is taking place.

For those that arrive in Samyaza's gardens, they are beautiful and well prepared, and music of otherworldly perfection flows through them. Tables are arranged with amazing works of art as their centerpieces, while the trees themselves are made into dazzling displays of color with an effect that seems to turn their leaves into pure light. Samyaza will be presiding, a hare that looks like she's made of something ephemeral, like wind of pure colour. She invites you in kindly, saying that before she speaks, she will honour you with a song...

► THE SET UP: For the first hour or so, the festival will be nothing but celebration. There are other Honorables there, but not as many as usual - the main event are you and the other new arrivals. After the hour mark, Samyaza will perform her song. Until then, threads can be made focusing on the pre-song mingling and planning. Will you listen when she sings?

► THE TWIST: There will be more happening at the festival than Samyaza plans. While she is comfortable waiting to act, other Architects are less patient.

ON HOLY GROUND↴

With carnival members (and Ignatius) in enemy hands, there's no more time for hestitation. Based on the information given to her by various carnies, the Ringmaster will meet with the Furies and declare her intent to attack the Cathedral's underground during Samyaza's festival on the evening of Day 88. The Furies will agree, saying that those they have on the inside will use their influence to ensure there are as few Architects and Scholars are blocking their way as possible, but they must all still expect a fight.

Furies from the base in the barrens will be coming along with this raid group, using what information they have to speed transit through the underground tunnels. They only ask two things - that after the Mirror is collected, it be used to save the lives of Hasma and the other captured Furies, before being used to repair the mind of the Serpent herself.

► THE SET UP: The Ringmaster will lead the way into the secret ruins that Childermass and the other found - the main difference is that she will smash right through the cracked wall defending the depths of the Cathedral, clearing the path entirely with her now serpentine body. Her plan is this - to draw the attention of the Architects to the surface by taking on the appearance if the Serpent, while carnival members and assisting Furies search the tunnels below to find the Mirror and the captives.

► THE TWIST: The people captured by the Twelve and imprisoned in the garden (AKA characters on the TDM) will be found, but the carnival members won't be. At least, not in the same place as the other captives. A megathread will go up for the group that goes to capture the Mirror, but you are free to NPC and thread confrontations will Scholars that are protecting the underground prison and the chambers where the Twelve held their meetings. Please report any Scholars that are killed or seriously harmed to the mods. Lambert will be leading the part of the group heading towards the Mirror, while Sans will head the group searching the tunnels for captives.

Now is the time to let loose and use all your powers. It's probably best to keep your disguise to catch people off guard, but it is no longer necessary. New characters will be directed to post here once accepted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Meanwhile, back on a giant tadpole, Herbert shudders and reflexively flexes his claws in deeper as they pass swiftly through the waterfall and into the thick, cloying shadow. (Sorry, Jackson.) Can he breathe? Does he breathe shadow? It feels like it fills him up anyway, cold inside his nose and throat, into his lungs. Into his head.

There isn't much for it to attach to at first, sticky though the darkness is. Herbert is truly confident, almost obscenely. He truly believes in his genius, in how he is, that everything that goes wrong is due to some fault of others or the Universe rather than himself.

But then, of course, it reaches his soul, Void-touched as it is. And suddenly, Herbert is actually struggling. Predominately against the feeling that this entire venture is a waste of time. Why does he bother with his job? Why did he bother coming in as a cat at all when there is pure science and the destruction of everything?

It's... Fine, he will admit. This was a waste of his time. He was here when he could have been developing his reagent. But it hasn't been a total wash: he's come up with some new ideas vis the applicability of his serum. Besides, he's already been through this. There's no point in the destruction of reality before he's finished exploring everything about it. All of that can happen later. Right now he's busy with his work!

And then he's through, staring at rock instead of nothingness. He's...still soaking wet, so hopefully that only felt long, instead of actually being hours in the shadow while the others presumably got shredded apart by Bezaliel at the remains of the party. They all have eggs, though, so, it ought to be fine.

"Aaare--" goes Herbert and then coughs, his teeth clenching into the plate. His throat still feels tight after his bout with the barrier. "Strange. Are you, still there?"

At some point after entering the wall of shadow, Ignatius screams. It's impossible to tell what about, in the darkness, but it's something more vulnerable and deep seated than any of them will have heard from him, up to this point.

He falls silent again not long after. By the time they make it out the other side, Ignatius is ostensibly conscious but looks practically dead inside, unresponsive to stimulus and just staring off into space. He looks completely awful, and his ashy blood is soaking all through his white garb and down Jackson's side.

Edited 2018-08-10 17:17 (UTC)

There's about fifty different things that Strange hates about this. One, the overpowering darkness uncomfortably reminds him of the curse of darkness he's stuck in back home. Two, he's still in that damn Mirror and can't do anything. And three, Ignatius is badly injured. He's focused on Ignatius, downright staring at the fae as if that will help him somehow figure out what to do next, but all the little voices in the back of his head keep trying to distract him.

This is all his fault. And that scream just further cements the fact that this is all his fault. He's the reason why Ignatius is here, he's the reason why Ignatius is hurt, he can't help, he can't protect him, he's a failure of a magician and a friend...Strange retreats back to the void of the Silver Mirror, just so he doesn't have to look at Ignatius and confront how badly he fucked up.

And then the dark fog over his head starts to clear. And Strange puts two and two together and realizes just how fucked up the darkness is. Thinking he was a failure, what a stupid thought. He watches through the reflection, waiting until the shadows have started to pass before he manifests himself in the plate's reflection again.

"I am," he answers. His voice is a little rattled but, more than anything else, he's angry. "There's something magical about those shadows. Under different circumstances I could examine it further, but..." And here he trails off. But he's stuck in a damn Mirror.

"Well clearly," says Herbert, teeth still gritted around the plate. As the tadpole comes to a stop a little bit down the tunnel away from the darkness wall still visible behind them, Herbert releases his claws and slides backwards down to the ground, absolutely destroying Strange's view of Ignatius when the plate comes with him. "This is hardly the time for that sort of investigation anyway--you've seen Ignatius." Who is currently being lowered to the ground of the tunnel by Jackson's tail.

It takes Herbert another moment to really remember how his legs work and then he trots over to prop the plate on the wall beside where Ignatius is lying, stuporously catatonic, on the ground. That dealt with, he walks the small distance to investigate the fae's injuries. There's not too much he can do at the moment, not without access to any supplies aside from a small sewing kit in his pocket. He doesn't exactly want to sew the rot INTO Ignatius, though. Scissors make a terrible scalpel.

He cuts some strips off of the hem of Ignatius' sacrificial gown all the same, pushes it up his torso (sorry about any remaining dignity you might have somewhere, buddy) and starts doing his best to superficially clean the various gashes with the wet cloth.

"Do you have any idea where this tunnel leads?" he asks Strange while he makes his attempt. Nobody here opened their heart to the song, as it turns out, and Herbert honestly wasn't expecting a secret waterfall tunnel.

"I don't," Strange admits, awkwardly moving around in his tiny little reflection to try and get a better look at Ignatius. Yes, he's seen him and sees just how terrible he is, but his frame of viewing is plate sized! He has to get a better view!

"I can try to scout ahead, but that's limited to what reflections are there." Strange opens his mouth, like he's about to explain to Herbert an in-depth assessment of how scouting would consist of Strange going back in the Mirror, peering through the reflections that could possibly be in the cave, then reappearing at Herbert, but then decides that it's too much magical jargon and metaphysical bullshit for Mr. Look At Me, I Do Science over there.

"If I do that, you've got to keep the plate with you. Otherwise I've no way of returning and telling you what I've found."

Edited 2018-08-10 18:07 (UTC)

"I doubt we're going anywhere any time soon," says Herbert, sounding put upon as he gestures between himself, small even for a housecat, and Ignatius, 7 feet tall and broad enough Herbert is having to step carefully onto him in order to get to the stomach wound. "The plate will stay as it is--you should also have a look at what happened back, in the garden, I don't know how long it took us to make it through the barrier. That's why we called you in the first place, after all."

He can't make the injury much better by cleaning it...at least Ignatius is enough out of it that Herbert's attempts aren't unbearable. Instead, he takes new strips and starts doing his best to bandage the lesser gashes. At the moment, he's not even certain he ought to stop up the largest injury. Can fae blood clean out an iron wound or does the nature of it make that impossible? He'll have to make sure to ask the Ringmaster once they're back in the Carnival.

It doesn't even begin to occur to him that they might not make it out of this.

The general bite and claw wounds don't seem as bad, but the stab wound in Ignatius's gut, presumably from an iron weapon, looks completely terrible. It hasn't healed at all since it was struck, and has ostensibly been seeping whatever passes for fae blood since. With so much iron on him, and weakened by missing his Heart, Ignatius has effectively no recovery mechanisms at his disposal.

There's no bacteria or regular anatomy involved in the process, but it is somehow reminiscent of flesh going necrotic. The iron has killed the magic, here, and is corrupting his body's natural ability to repair its structure by by replacing it with new energy. What should be red and fiery is instead coming in blackened and stone-like.

The other wounds have damaged his structure, but they seem like they could heal cleanly if he could only muster the energy to do it.

Suddenly, Ignatius gasps and chokes, like someone startling back into reality. He breathes heavily and quickly, like someone panicking.

Edited 2018-08-10 18:30 (UTC)

Strange nods...but then pauses for a moment, internally debating something. "I don't know how quickly he'll heal," he admits. "And you'll have to be more careful, since Ignatius is—"

But then Ignatius jolts to life and Strange's one track mind firmly swing back towards him. "Oh thank God," he can't help but remark, as he again tries to find an awkward angle to try and get a better look at Ignatius.

And then we go right back to bossing Herbert around. "Pick the plate up, I can't see him all that well!"

"And what will you do if you see him?" grouses Herbert. "Hm? You're in a plate, Strange." He ignores his demands entirely to throw the molten obsidian-soaked cloths to the side and trim some new strips off the robe to both wrap his forepaws and to begin carefully feeding into the gap between Ignatius' skin and the shackle on his left wrist with the forceps he's been using for sewing. That seems like the safest first option, as he doesn't have to stand on the suddenly awakened fae to do it.

"Stay as calm as you can, Ignatius," he adds, "I'm the Doctor, I'm attempting to help--you need to let me know if this blocks the effects of the iron in any way. We're out of immediate peril at the moment as far as I know--someone would rather fuss over you than check." Looking up, he eyes the worst injury again before shaking his head and returning to his careful process. "Iiii could really use a surgical spoon..." he mutters, mostly to himself.

Ignatius's breathing doesn't slow, almost like he barely notices that he's being spoken to. He abruptly moves his arms while Herbert is trying to work on the shackles, lifting them up to stare at his blackened flesh before letting them drop again. It doesn't do much to set him at ease.

"Can't get out," he mutters, disconnected from the rest of the situation. He's staring ahead of himself instead of acknowledging Herbert or Strange. It's probably nothing personal. His flinching and sounds of discomfort and far more pitiful than he'd let himself be in any other circumstances. He doesn't seem wholly connected to reality.

"The shackles are iron-based," Strange explains, raising his voice a little so that Ignatius can hear him. Which explains why Ignatius can't just smoke-poof himself out of this situation.

Strange pauses for a moment, fully aware that he can't really do anything to help Ignatius right now. "I'll try and scout ahead and see if there's anything of use in here."

It might be a fool's errand. After all, who knows how many cave tunnels there are in Eden and if any of them have large and stable enough reflections to begin with? But he's got to do something. And so, Strange vanishes from the reflection of the plate, back into the Mirror's void and starts looking.

Edited 2018-08-10 19:59 (UTC)

The tadpole, having emotional depth not much deeper than the plate Strange is stuck in, is just hovering at Herbert's side, bumping inquisitively against the fae. Its own hide is sporting a few ugly marks from just contact with the iron, and he'd much rather not pick up Ignatius with them if he can, and he keeps worriedly looking back at where they've come from.

It turns out there are some reflections nearby - an indeterminate distance down that same tunnel, there is some stagnant water sitting. It's still enough that it casts an easy reflection. He can only really see the roof, but there is light down here, wherever it is.

Fantastic, now he doesn't have to deal with Strange hyping Ignatius up further. Not that Herbert knows particularly well how to deal with someone enormous having a breakdown. He doesn't exactly have an immense shock blanket to drape him in, or the capacity to do so. Patiently waiting for Ignatius to lay down his wrists again, Herbert industriously completes his task of threading fabric around them, wrapping upwards and tying them off above the shackles on his forearms.

"We will escape," he says conversationally, voice soft as always but with the addition of his best attempt at a calming tone. "We're already out of the worst of it -- once I've dealt with these as best I can, well, under these circumstances, we'll get up onto that tadpole again and keep going. Someone must know how to remove those chains of yours." He's moved onto the collar at this point, chopping off more fabric to feed around the reachable segments of Ignatius' neck. Stopping to contemplate for a moment, he tries firmly saying, "lift your head," voice slightly raised.

Strange materializes in the reflection further down the tunnel! And hot damn, is that a ceiling. He tries to look around but again, ceiling. He has no frame of reference for this location, has no idea if the tunnel is a straight line to this location, and is fairly certain any attempt at stealth has been burned thanks to their unconscious and bleeding out seven foot fae and Tadpole Jackson's mere existence.

Expecting to hear absolutely nothing but trying anyway, Strange calls out "Hello?"

He's not outright yelling it, but he is raising his voice a little in the hopes that Herbert and the rest can hear. And hey, if some rando honorable hears him, maybe they'll think he's a spooky cave ghost or something like that.

Whether or not Ignatius takes in any of what Herbert is saying is a mystery, but when it comes to asking him to lift his head, he super doesn't. It's not an act of disobedience, it's an act of not really understanding what you said in the first place.

The cloth around his wrist has helped with some of the immediate chafing, but it's hard for it to matter at this point. Everything feels completely out of control, and whatever world Ignatius is living in at the moment is pretty separate from the rest of what's going on.

Meanwhile, Strange calls out. There is about a ten second delay before another voice shuts back, sounding caught off guard.

"What?! Who's there?"

Herbert waits a moment, and then hurries down to also wrap Ignatius' ankles before he runs back to take a look at Ignatius' face again. Absolutely shock. He grumbles quietly to himself as he tucks the ends of the damp fabric under the collar a little firmer where he can reach to in order to secure it before he puts his forceps back into his pocket and buttons it.

Then, stepping very carefully and facing the plate so he can give Strange a very fierce look once he comes back and inevitably says something, he climbs onto the fae's chest, lies down, curls his paws under himself and forces himself to begin purring.

There have been studies, after all, whether or not the results are repeatable. It's the best option he has at the moment, anyway--he hasn't a chance of lifting Ignatius' giant head. Hopefully Strange returns soon with something useful.

Strange remains quiet for a moment...then silently slips back into the reflection, returns to the Mirror Void then makes his way back to the plate. Nope! Not gonna start a conversation now. Maybe later if he's going to scout ahead again.

And...well then. Strange doesn't even bother to hide the look of utter confusion on his face. He knew that Herbert was creepy. Everybody knew that Herbert was creepy. He didn't know that Herbert was 'nap on top of a practically unconscious patient' level of creepy. No matter what, Strange knew that he had to make certain everybody survived this encounter so he can gossip about this to Lambert once they're all safe.

"There's a brighter area with some water further down," Strange explains. "However, there is someone else within earshot of that spot. I've no idea if they're friend or foe, but I don't know if it matters. After all, it's not like any member of this party is remotely stealthy."

Said as he looks over to Tadpole Jackson. He's thankful for that thing's existence but that doesn't change the fact that it's real fucking weird.

He's not quite napping, but Herbert's eyes have gone slightly shuttered, mainly because Ignatius began to absent-mindedly pet him and he's actually kind of warm and this has been a fairly stressful day. He's actually swapped over from a forced purr to a real one by the time Strange shows up, and he almost forgets to glare at him.

But he does remember: he's comfortable, not a completely different person.

"Cats are, a well-known anxiety treatment," he gets out first, voice strained and purr stopped entirely. He doesn't quite move yet, though, he doesn't want to re-upset Ignatius after he's put in this undignified effort to bring him out of his shock. "What should we do--was the person coming in our direction? Should I...scout ahead? We're trapped against this wall anyway: I'm not sure either myself or Ignatius would make it back through a second time. Perhaps we should just trust that whoever is ahead is better than, whatever is happening inside the barrier?"

Yeah, Strange is calling bullshit on cats being anxiety treatments. But he is going to wait on precisely the right moment in the right public setting to call bullshit.

"I like that idea," Strange responds, with a frown. "I'd rather chance what's ahead of us than what's behind us." He doesn't know how terribly the fight with Bezaliel's going, just that none of them could be much use in the fight to begin with. And Strange agrees: they are not sending Ignatius through that shadow wall.

"What about this: we put Ignatius back on that...thing," said with a vague hand gesture towards Tadpole Jackson, "I scout back ahead and try to draw that person's attention while you, Ignatius, and the worm make your way through the caves. Whoever's there can't harm me and I can easily return to the plate to inform you if something goes sour."

It's frankly obvious he is telling the truth, look how chill Ignatius totally is now!

Definitely!

"Yeees," Herbert says slowly, "that. Should. Work, as long as the creature is amenable to carrying Ignatius again." Squeezing carefully out from the vague and intermittent hand, Herbert walks back off Ignatius and stretches extravagantly forward and backward before going to take a look at Tadpole Jackson.

"Pick him up again," he demands, and then eyes the burns on the rubbery skin of what is apparently a tadpole. He's honestly not sure it can understand him but... "Keep him on his back if you can, that should keep the connecting chains away from you."

While TJ percolates over that, Herbert makes a face (time for a return to impaired communication!), and runs back over to grab the plate in his mouth once more and steps back onto Ignatius. Now that the sacrificial robe is back as down as it will go--what with all the strips Herbert cut off it--it's available for Herbert to clutch at. Hopefully he can get on the tadpole this way, instead of once again jumping on and digging his claws in.

Edited 2018-08-11 05:07 (UTC)

Tadpole Jackson would ordinarily object to being called a worm, but seeing as his owner isn't here to defend him, he can only worriedly glance back in her direction, then reluctantly do as he's told.

The long, prehensile tail wrap gingerly around Ignatius's middle-- lacking anywhere else convenient to grab him -- and hoist the fae up onto himself again, on his back with his limbs and the chains just draped off the side. He'll keep his tail wrapped around Ignatius as he floats in the air, ready to follow where he's led.

Ignatius's had been vaguely petting Herbert's back with a couple of his fingers, otherwise having completely worn himself out on whatever panic attack he was having. Now he's just back to being semi-conscious and in pain.

Which only gets worse when TJ picks him up by his middle, considering that's where the stab wound is. He makes a strangled sound, but that's all he can really do about it. Otherwise, he's just screaming between his teeth a little and being confused about where he is.

Holy shit, the worm understands Herbert. Strange looks a little baffled for a moment before he turns his attention to Tadpole Jackson.

"Thank you," he awkwardly replies, with a slight nod to the tadpole that somehow knows English. "But be careful moving Ignatius!" And then, Strange vanishes into the reflection before his vision is impaired via cat mouth.

Strange reappears in that water reflection he found further down in the cave. He isn't even bothering to keep his voice quiet as he yells, "Hello again, whoever you are. I'm back."

Strange arrives to find a big ass tapir nose hanging in his vision, with fancy looking rings decorating its entire length. It smells deeply and then pulls back in surprise when Strange speaks.

"Oh! Oh no. I wasn't expecting this," they say.

⇨ BEHIND THE WATERFALL (IGNATIUS, HERBERT, STRANGE-IN-A-PLATE, AND TADPOLE JACKSON)

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