⇨ SHABONDAMASHII

[ringleaders]

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.

Comments

[atouts]

Childermass almost disagrees, wanting to say he's spent enough time resting, but what else is there to do? He can't go wandering off again. Well, he could, but he won't. Besides, he's the side who doesn't mind a bit of laziness.

"Might as well," he ends up agreeing with Celandine and settling down on the bed on her other side, kicking off his shoes before laying out on his side. "Though if anyone needs rest, it's you. You look like you're losing your fur over this."

[whattaprick]

“I’m worried about him. He doesn’t listen to me like this,” Celandine says dolefully. “But other than that, I’m fine. Whatever’s happening doesn’t affect me ... so I hope it can be fixed.”

She looks at Lambert, who has his non-sigil branded hand wrapped in a bandage already, and sighs

“Before he hurts anyone else. Including himself.” She pauses, then, looking him over. “You don’t seem like you’re doing too bad.”

[atouts]

"My better half deemed most emotions to be useless to him," Childermass says as a way of explanation. Along with a lot of other things but what's important here is he's much more of a whole human being than his other self is right now. At least, that's what he thinks.

But his attention strays to the bandaged hand same as Celandine's had just seconds before as he says that.

"Who did he punch?"

[whattaprick]

"Strange," Celandine answers, lowering her head to rest it on the sheets. "Or part of him, anyway. He ended up becoming two people too. One of them kissed him."

And thus, the hand, though it doesn't quite explain everything about the injury.

[atouts]

That's... no, that doesn't really explain the injury but that isn't Childermass's immediate focus at first. His expression darkens and he frowns at Celandine.

"Kissed him? Why?" If he was the more cruelly logical half, he would immediately guess 'disenchantment spell' but he isn't. So he doesn't. He just ends up looking really annoyed. "If him swooning over Ignatius wasn't enough, now he's trying for Lambert as well? That's ridiculous."

[whattaprick]

The reaction's entirely un-Childermasslike, and if there needed to be any more concrete proof that this isn't the whole Childermass they're dealing with here, that's plenty. Celandine's ears pin back a little, but she can't wilt anymore than she already has.

"He thought he could break what happened to Lambert," she explains, and -- because really, who else is she going to be able to gossip about this to, even if it's only half of Childermass -- adds, "Though I don't think he would have punched him if he hadn't said ... all those things, first."

[atouts]

"Idiot," Childermass mutters under his breath, not that doing so does anything to hide what he said at such close range. Louder, though after a second or two of hesitance at seeing how this is only doing more to wear the poor daemon out, he does have to ask, "What things?"

[whattaprick]

Worn out is certainly one way to describe Celandine's state right now.

"That you'd abandon Lambert once he gets in the way of what you want," the polecat answers, too exhausted to mince words. She shuts her eyes, curling in on herself. "Lambert doesn't believe that, but ... this one does."

All the fears and anxieties without any of the strength to balance it out. She's worried about him, that much is obvious, but...

"And the other Strange just left!" she grumbles. "He could have at least helped..." But no, apparently too sensible to get involved in any of thise.

[atouts]

"Then I'll just have to tell him otherwise once he's awake," Childermass grumbles, settling down on his side of the bed as Celandine curls up. "Although now there's two Stranges wandering around out there. I suppose I ought to worry."

But he won't. One kissed his man and the other was, apparently, very useless, so why should he care? That's what the other one can do, not him.

[whattaprick]

Celandine's fur settles a little, the part of her less actively angry at Strange for distressing any part of Lambert winning out. Childermass obviously is worried enough for Lambert, if nothing else, so that mollifies some of her unhappiness a little.

"We can deal with it later," she says firmly, then sighs quietly, "Get some rest ... I can wake you when he wakes up."

Which she does, in a couple of hours, small paws gently shaking him awake by pressing into his shoulder and calling his name softly. That's all the warning he gets before Lambert jerks violently, only to curl in on himself just as quickly with a low curse, shifting on the bed.

"What..." he starts, and then his gaze lands on the person beside him. He goes sickly pale and freezes, hand curling against the bedspread beside him as he swallows.

[atouts]

At the prodding from Celandine, Childermass cracks an eye open to observe. Lambert... looks terrible. Considering the state he found him in, that isn't a surprise, so he just drones out, "If you're going to vomit, do it floorwards, not mewards, Lambert."

[whattaprick]

Lambert just looks at Childermass blankly, like he's having trouble processing that. Finally, he stammers out:

"You shouldn't be here."

Wherever 'here' is. He obviously didn't get here under his power, but he has no intention of staying, either. The longer he stays with Childermass, the greater the chances are of rejection, and why the hell would he subject himself to that?

He forces himself off the bed and to his feet despite Celandine's soft noise of protest. He gets all of five steps before he is, in fact, doubling over and quietly voids the contents of his stomach, one hand clutching the edge of the room's only desk. Thankfully, he has just enough presence of mind to aim for the wastebasket beside it.

[atouts]

"I'll be wherever I wish to be," Childermass says, sitting up just as Lambert tries to make his escape from the bed. It's short-lived, clearly, but he won't chase after him. Not with how he's trying to retreat. Instead, he'll keep him here in a somewhat ruder fashion by reaching over to scoop up Celandine and cradle her in his arms. If anything is going to soothe this miserable version of Lambert, he supposes petting his scampering little polecat soul is going to be it.

"Now come back here. You aren't fit to walk anywhere yet."

[whattaprick]

While Lambert had been somewhat ready to believe this was an elaborate play of his imagination on himself — he knows Celandine can persist beyond his instinctive ability to maintain the spell summoning her — there isn’t really any replicating the sensation of your soul being touched by someone you love and trust. Unlike Lambert himself, despite being a representation of his soul, Celandine is whole, not broken. The contact with Childermass sends that same familiar thrill of joy through her, and Lambert, because even if it’s only part of him, it’s the part that cares.

And it hurts.

It’s too much. Far from moving closer to Childermass as ordered, Lambert sits heavily on the floor like his strings have been cut, knees drawn up so he can bury his face against them. His shoulders shake, ears and tail sagging, and though he’s doing so quietly and trying to muffle the sounds, he’s unmistakably sobbing.

“Like I said ... he’s worse when he’s sober.” Celandine just looks at him sadly, slumping in Childermass’s grasp. It may be causing Lambert pain, but she could use the comfort and soothing herself, right now.

[atouts]

It's tough to make a choice between Celandine and Lambert. After all, the polecat is Lambert, essentially. Still, it should be painful. That it makes him cry is... distressing, but he'll keep Celandine cradled in one arm as he stiffly maneuvers himself off the bed, ending up taking a seat on the floor instead. Slowly, so slowly, as his side twinges.

He makes sure it's the same side he can easily see Lambert from, though as much as he would like to go sit directly next to him, he also needs something to lean against right now. So, it's here, against the side of the bed, but at least on the same level.

"But he is alive..." Better than dead on a dive bar's floor somewhere. "Lambert, what's wrong? Are you not glad to see me?"

[whattaprick]

“Careful!” Celandine admonishes with a squeak as Childermass makes to get down. She’ll stay still, though, as he gets himself down, then nuzzle appreciatively against the magician’s arm, appreciating the contact.

Though it doesn’t seem to do much good for her human, who takes his time sniffling and trying to compose himself before he musters an answer.

“Not like this,” the Lambert on the floor mumbles into his knees, hands shifting to grip his own horns, tugging at them in distress as his voice cracks. “Please, please leave me alone.”

“He doesn’t mean that,” Celandine deflates. Lambert’s even more incoherent than ever. She’d hoped Childermass could stabilize him where Strange couldn’t, but he is only half of himself, after all...

[atouts]

"I know he doesn't," Childermass assures Celandine, brushing fingers over soft fur now that he's settled. That said, he focuses on the miserable Lambert and honest concern breaks across his face as he watches.

It's barer than anything anyone could expect from the magician and for good reason. It's so strange to meet like this, to realize most people would shove everything outright negative away like this, versus himself, who his ideal version considered so many decent things to be included in that... It doesn't lend him the ability to distance himself from the situation at hand, though. It hurts to see Lambert like this and he can't hide it.

"Lambert, please, stop doing that to yourself," he tries, speaking gently. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

[whattaprick]

Lambert laughs, sharp and sudden. It's not a kind sound.

"That's rich," he spits, vicious with sudden anger, even as he curls in on himself again. He's stopped crying, though his cheeks are still damp, looking up to glare at the magician, sees that hurt and sees his chance to drive him away. "Considering you keep leaving me behind."

Part of Lambert believes he can protect the people he cares about if he was better, stronger, someone they can trust. Another part of him is simply livid that when it counts the most, it feels like he's never given a chance to even try.

"You make me feel like a dog," he tells Childermass, caustically. "Like I'm only supposed to come when you call, when you think I'm worth your attention, when I beg for it. I'm tired of it," he looks away, ears flattening to his head as he hides his face again, exhaustion and heartsickness taking over again as quickly as the anger appeared as he squeezes his legs. "I'm tired of running after someone who..."

"Lambert," Celandine says, miserably. "You know that's not true. You can feel that."

Lambert just hunches his shoulders, something probably painful with his injuries as he curls in on himself, and falls silent.

[atouts]

"Celandine," Childermass says quietly, still brushing his fingers gently over her back, "Let him finish. It may not be true but it's still how he feels... I want to hear it..."

Even if it won't be good and he can make a good few guesses regarding what this Lambert is getting at. He's too secretive, he's too closed off, practically all the same problems that piss off Strange just as much. Those two are just too much alike in some ways, he supposes, and the thought just makes him slump further against the side of the bed.

"Were you going to say someone who doesn't care?"

[whattaprick]

Of course Lambert knows he cares. That’s not the problem. The problem is something infinitely pettier, selfish, and childish, which is exactly why Lambert shoved it into this part of him ... a part that has no problem voicing that anxiety out loud.

“Someone who doesn’t need me,” Lambert says, voice small, a slight burst of flame licking around his lips in agitation. “Not as much as I need him.” He wants to be depended on, wants it terribly, but just as much he knows there are perfectly good reasons why no one ever should. Isn’t this conversation proof enough of that? Knowing Childermass cares about him should be enough, is more than Lambert ever thought he’d get, but he can’t help wanting more than that, want to sink hooks and claws in as thoroughly as Childermass has sunk them into him.

The worst part, of course, is knowing Childermass probably never even meant to do that. It’s a problem entirely of Lambert’s own making.

[atouts]

Ah, that's it. As petty as the problem is, it isn't one Childermass can't understand. It's been the usual course of his life where he's the one being depended on, not the other way around. He gets things done, he does them his own way, actually stopping to mention it to Strange or the Ringmaster or another supervisor or even Lambert... That's new.

Overall, it's also a part of him that ended up with the other Childermass, so the accusation has him squirming some and turning away, suddenly as uncomfortable as... well, not anywhere near as bad off as Lambert, really, but even so. He looks guilty and his fingers curl up against Celandine's fur.

"That's..." He can't exactly say it isn't true, can he? "I'm just... I'm not very good at that. No one's ever wanted that from me before."

[whattaprick]

“Well, that’s fucking obvious.” Harsh as the words are, Lambert sounds more like he’s on the verge of sniveling again, blinking rapidly while Celandine tries to lean comfortingly against Childermass’s hand.

“You think I like feeling this way? It’s pathetic.”

[atouts]

"Well if it's pathetic to be scared," Childermass mutters, looking down at the daemon cuddling up against his hand. He'll sigh down at her rather than at Lambert, slowly uncurling his fingers again to pet her properly. "Then we're both pathetic."

[whattaprick]

“You aren’t, though. You aren’t scared of anything.”

The assertion doesn’t hold much strength to it, though. Lambert is daring to look at Childermass over the edge of his knees. It’s hard to tell if it’s the words or the petting that’s helping him calm down somewhat, though who knows what might set him off next.

[atouts]

"Aren't scared of anything... ha... what a load of crock," dark Childermass murmurs. He looks up again, if only just enough to eye Lambert from the corner of his vision. "You think I don't dwell on how we might all die? Or that the Count might capture me? Or the Rose Queen? I'm terrified of that, those two, what they might do... Or..."

And this one he hesitates on, almost doesn't admit. It's difficult. He'll forge on ahead regardless.

"Of you. If we ever manage to get back to England together."