lostcarnival | ⇨ SHABONDAMASHII

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⇨ SHABONDAMASHII

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 92 - Day 99
Where: Shabondamashii Bathhouse
What: With the Silver Mirror claimed and the animals of Eden relocated, it's time for the carnival to kick back and enjoy an interdimensional bathhouse and the surrounding festival city. Meanwhile, the scattered shards of the Mirror have an unexpected effect.
Warnings: Dark/Light halves acting weird.

THE BIG CLEANSE↴

As the carnival recovers, the Ringmaster has brought it to the gates of a famous interdimensional bathhouse to rest. She won't be joining you for most of it, though she will be checking in frequently and available by radio. She's fixed a large portion of the Silver Mirror after it shattered, but it seems like pieces are missing. She doesn't want to rest until the missing shards are dealt with, and the Mirror itself is locked away safely.

► YOUR OTHER HALF: The shards missing from the Silver Mirror didn't just disappear - after breaking apart in Eden, fragments of the object embedded themselves in the spirits of those not already touched by its powers, and those that had been the most fae-touched. That means, your characters. The effect of this, explained in more detail on the plotting post, is that some characters will be splitting into two versions of themselves: the Light, and the Dark. This doesn't mean good and evil, of course, it's far more complicated than that.

Splits can start happening at any time after arriving in Shabon, and initially characters won't know how to rejoin with their twins. Later on, it will become apparent that they need to reconnect via the shard of the Mirror they share... of course, in order to rejoin, you have to have both halves, and not all twins will be as eager to go back to the way things were before. This plot point is optional.

► SPA DAY: When you're not engaging in metaphysical division, you are free to enjoy the many luxuries that Shabon offers. Things will mostly have an east-Asian bend, like what you would see in the movie Spirited Away, but as long as it doesn't affect the setting much, you can honestly have whatever spa-type services available that you want. Food is served both in restaurants and 'buffet' style. There are also well paid sex workers here, if that is your thing, but make sure to tip well.

► FESTIVAL TOWN: The city surrounding Shabondamashii is largely meant to catch the business of interdimensional tourists. There are frequent parades and other events held, and the architecture is very closely packed. It's easy to get lost if you leave the bathhouse, but it's definitely worth it if you like party. You can pick out a few outfits for yourself and some fun nick nacks, but nothing that would normally require mod approval.

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Strange listens to Rita's explanation. He looks a little surprised when she mentions the Serpent. Good on them for finding her! He hadn't caught up with that one detail. The fact that the Mirror shattered into enough pieces that he Ringmaster has to catch them all is a little more worrying.

Rita's question takes him by surprise. In a matter of fact tone of voice, Strange starts to explain. "The Starlight left me a prophecy. I don't remember the specifics at the moment, the hard copy is back in my trailer, but it said something like 'the more intimate a connection, the deadlier it's lure.'"

And thus Rita learns that prophecies are the kind of woo that Strange eats up.

"The Starlight?" At first, there's a confused look on Rita's face, but she manages to recall something. "She's... a Summerlands fae, right?"

Yeah, Rita can't say she knows a whole lot about her.

"Didn't know you were the superstitious type..." She goes on to mumble, then stops as they turn a corner, finding a door. Notably, it has a large silhouette of a lotus flower engraved on it. She gives Strange a questioning look. "This the place?"

"Prophecies aren't superstition," Strange says in a 'no duh' tone of voice. But talk of prophecies shall be put on hold as they're actually at the room. Strange holds the door open as the two enter.

The set up of the room is more mall nail salon than luxurious spa day. There are plenty of chairs and some ambient music that is vaguely new age, but the design as a whole is vaguely utilitarian. As they enter, a woman walks up to greet them.

"Two for the pedicure package," Strange explains, smile on his face. With a nod, she leads them towards the chairs.

Rita lingers behind, seemingly hesitant, but the woman gestures for her to follow, and she does.

Looks like her newly changed feet won't be a problem for them, then...

She sits in the indicated chair, and the woman takes her sandals and explains that they'll begin with a soothing foot soak to soften and cleanse the skin... and fur, apparently. The woman then brings out a basin for each of them, filled with slightly foamy water with a mild floral scent, and leaves them to soak their feet for a few minutes.

The moment they're left to 'relax', Rita starts right where they left off. "If prophecies aren't superstition to you, then what are they?"

Despite the fact that he literally has only had a pedicure once before, Strange is acting like he knows what he's doing. He places his feet in the water and relaxes. A moment later, Rita continues the conversation.

"They're facts," Strange explains. "At least, if you have a proper fortune teller then they're facts. The prophecy about me was quite accurate as was the one about Childermass."

Something about Rita's defiant nature makes it particularly hard for her to relax when expected to. She remains somewhat tense in her seat, peering at her own submerged feet with curiosity.

“What do you mean, it was accurate? You can’t know that yet,” she sneers, not at all considering the possibility that there could have been two prophecies about Jonathan Strange. Then, less dismissively, “...Childermass had one too?”

Edited 2018-09-02 06:21 (UTC)

"I know it's accurate because it happened," Strange responds like it's super obvious. Thankfully, he quickly puts together the fact that he hasn't specified there were two prophecies and quickly explains.

"The Raven King's prophecy about me was accurate. As was the Starlight's one about Childermass. The Starlight's prophecy to me was framed more like advice so I'm not sure if it happened yet."

"Oh, I see. No wonder you're keen on them if the Raven King was the divining sort." If Strange looks over, he might catch Rita rolling her eyes. The magician's affection for the Raven King is almost as ridiculous, though not quite as intolerable, as his approach to Ignatius.

"...So? What kind of prophecy was it?" she goes on to ask, though her attention is partly still on her own toes, which she wiggles experimentally in the water.

"I don't remember the specifics," Strange admits. He closes his eyes a moment to try and remember.

"Two magicians shall appear in England. The first is fearfulness, the second is arrogance. The first shall fear me, the second shall long to behold me. Then there's a bit I don't remember...the rain shall make a door for me and I shall go through it. The nameless slave shall serve as king."

Strange sighs a little. "The long and short of it is that it described my mentor and I as well as our attempts to bring magic back to England."

"Hmm... Well, it's not like I really have enough evidence to dispute it." Implying that if she did have access to more information, there's a good chance that Rita would try to do just that.

With some semblance of humor, she adds, "Arrogance is pretty apt. The part about a slave becoming a king sounds like an even more impressive story, though."

Edited 2018-09-03 03:46 (UTC)

"That's the part that I know the least about," Strange admits. "England doesn't have slavery. I haven't a clue who this nameless slave might be or what kingdom he'd inherit."

Strange has a slight idea. If he had to pick anyone, he'd pick Stephen Black, the one person in this narrative who's role Strange isn't certain of. But he knows it's a TEENY BIT RACIST to assume that a black man is the nameless slave.

Rita just gives a thoughtful hum at that. "Whatever the kingdom, nobles usually aren't all that welcoming to common rabble trying to join their ranks," she says with some derision. Of course, as far as family status goes, Rita would probably rank somewhere among rabble herself. It's a good thing Aspio is somewhat removed from the social hierarchies of the capital; it means she doesn't have to deal with that crap.

The woman returns to attend to Strange's feet, while another worker comes to deal with Rita. They remove their feet from the water and set about filing the soles of their feet, trying to scrub off any rough, dried skin or callouses. While they're at it, they ask what color of nail polish they'd like. Rita, looking completely out of her element, hesitates to answer.

"That depends on the kingdom. It's entirely possible that the prophecy might be referring to a faerie kingdom, and that's something entirely different." After all, this whole business of rescuing Arabella and bringing magic back to England ended with Strange and Norrell murdering the master of Lost Hope. There's a perfectly good faerie kingdom out there, with no ruler. Perhaps it's referring to that?

But then, the workers show back up and Strange's attention is distracted. At the nail polish question, Strange answers without hesitation. "Orange—though more of a golden orange to match my scales." He looks over at Rita, who's obviously out of her element, and quickly decides to straight up answer for her. "And she'll take red, something close to her feathers."

Strange gets a brief, irritated look. She didn't ask him to choose for her!

But after giving it a moment of thought, Rita decides it's as good a choice as anything she would have come up with, and at least he did think to coordinate it with her appearance. "Fine," she sighs, "Let's go with that."

The workers compliment the excellent choice, then dry their feet and start clipping, filing, and treating the nails. Rita ends up having to flex her toes to allow the worker to do her job, but the woman acts like it's normal and she's previously worked with a hundred cat-feet just like these. ...Has she? Rita doesn't ask.

"How different could it be? I wouldn't think fae would be any more accepting. All mortals are as good as slaves to them, anyway." She scoffs.

And once again, we're back to Rita being kind of racist. Strange gives her a frown. It's obvious he's a little bit tired of having this argument but, as someone who loves arguing, he's going to keep having it as long as Rita continues to be so stubborn.

"You know that not all fae are the monsters you want them to be. The Ringmaster isn't. Those in the Summerlands aren't. Hell, Ignatius stuck to his word and freed me from my contract. So why do you insist that every fae behaves according to the worst representatives of their race? It's like saying all mortals act as I did in Portland."

It kind of sucks when you're the best example of a dirtbag you can think of but hey, what can you do.

Hearing that Strange was released from his contract is welcome news, but with the way he tells her, there's no time to celebrate, because Rita is immediately on the offense.

"How can you use Ignatius as an example of someone who's better than that!? He's not! He was going to keep you as a lifelong slave, you know!" Rita's twists around to face Strange as she yells at him, and the worker holding her foot gently reminds her to hold still. Grimacing, she leans back. "Sure, the Ringmaster's different. Maybe the Summer Maiden is, too. But the Courts, the majority of fae in the multiverse... the worst fae we've met are what they're like. They're the norm."

"The majority of the fae in the multiverse are underlings," Strange bluntly explains, looking over at Rita with a frown. "Common soldiers, who probably care more about surviving a fight or finding where their next meal comes from instead of grand ideals or personal vendettas. They're the Frosts and Nightshades of the world, doing things because they are told."

He's been at war before. He knows what he's talking about. Strange is entirely secure in his convictions and entirely certain that he's right. He's met plenty of soldiers who fought for England, who supported England's ideals, and who praised the country...but at the end of the day, ideals and praise won't fix the roads or patch the hole in their boots.

"As for Ignatius, he also tried to rescue me from the Twelve. More than anything else, I consider him a friend."

"You think anything would be different if Frost or Nightshade were in charge? They're every bit as bad as their masters. Even underlings in the fae world can't pass up a chance to screw with people's lives!"

So much for relaxing. Rita's just getting more and more agitated.

"And I shouldn't have to tell you this, but for the last time, he's not your friend!" The workers flinch as her voice rises in volume.

Strange is trying really hard to keep his temper down. Partly because he doesn't want to make a scene, partly because there's still wet fingernail polish being applied and he really doesn't want to mess up his manicure.

When he speaks, it's with a measured calmness to his voice. "He is my friend. He said so himself."

Rita looks at him with disgust, then shakes her head. "Don't be stupid. He can't be..."

She can't stand it. How can he be so chummy with someone who treated her so horribly!? Who treated Strange horribly!? Even Ignatius seemed to realize what he did was unforgivable. Even he... but...

"Screw it." Rita rises to her feet, forcing the worker to scoot away. "I'm done trying to talk sense into you. Go ahead and pretend that monster's your friend. I don't care anymore." She finds her sandals and puts them on, showing no consideration for the wet nail polish she's probably smudging.

But as she moves to leave, a second Rita remains in the chair, her arms wrapped around herself uncomfortably. "Why can't you understand? Why..." Her voice is tense, but not aggressive. On the contrary, she sounds like she's on the verge of tears.

Needless to say, neither Strange nor the bathhouse staff were expecting Rita to split in two like this. He looks from sitting Rita to standing Rita, trying to figure out what sort of magic could cause this (because of course it's magic.) The person tending to Strange gives him a 'what the hell is going on' sort of look. And almost instantly, Strange decides that he's got to take charge and figure this out. Or, at least, stop the other Rita from crying.

"Finish up your work," he quietly instructs the staff, not at all realizing that he's being kind of rude at the moment (you get used to bossing people around a bit when you've got servants.) He hesitates for a moment before reaching over to try and put a reassuring hand on Rita's shoulder.

"You know you can always talk to me. What do you think I don't understand?"

Maybe if they worked through this nonsense then they could have a conversation about Ignatius that wouldn't end with the two of them yelling at each other.

The touch of Strange's hand makes the cowering Rita shudder slightly, turning her head away from him to try and hide the emotion in her face.

"I'm scared," she admits in a low voice, scarcely above a whisper. "I've always been scared of him. First, it was fear of what would happen if I disobeyed him. Then I got away and had to worry about whether he'd come and take me back there. Then he took you, and I thought we were going to lose you forever... but you act like it's no big deal, like I should just get over it. It's like... it's like you don't even care!"

Sorry spa ladies, if the splitting wasn't awkward enough, here she is spilling her guts in front of them.

The other Rita, in the meantime, is on her way out the door. She pauses in the doorway just to shoot a glare back at her counterpart. "You're wasting your breath," she sneers, then departs.

Ignatius told him to direct his will, to focus on acting with his head over his heart. Strange is acutely aware that this is the sort of situation where if he said the wrong thing, it would all go pear-shaped so quickly. So, he's taking this situation very delicately, doing his best to think with his head and not get into yet another dumb argument.

"There's a vast difference between our experiences. Ignatius treated me as a soldier, not as a child." He pauses for a brief moment to think things over as he rubs Rita's shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

"And I do care," Strange tries to explain, keeping his voice as steady and gentle as he can. "You're a fellow magician and a dear friend. Of course I care about your feelings."

Rita looks over with a brief hopeful look, misty-eyed and blinking rapidly. She quickly turns away again.

"Then why are you always making excuses for him?" she asks, her voice strained. "You should have some idea of what I went through... so why do you keep taking his side? Why can't you ever be on my side?"

The workers finish with the polish and gently suggest that Rita and Strange take a few minutes to let it dry... which gives them an opportunity to step away from this mess for a while.

He knows what he wants to say: because you all tortured Ignatius, because he doesn't deserve this, because he's not the monster that Rita desperately wants him to be, because he still thinks that it's his fault that Ignatius is here in the first place. Thankfully, Strange keeps those reasons to himself and gives a different one instead.

"Because I've been in his situation," Strange explains, trying to keep his voice calm. "When we were in Portland, I was trapped in Nightshade's realm for about a week. The experience was...harrowing," there was so much torture, "but even just one person on my side would have made it infinitely better."

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