Lost Carnival Mods (
ringleaders) wrote in
lostcarnival2018-10-28 07:26 pm
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⇨ POLARIS 3.0
Who: Everyone!
When: Day 115
Where: Polaris
What: On the morning of day 115, a couple hours before the technicians would come to pick up the test subjects, the escape plan will officially come into effect. If your character has been left out of the loop up till this point, feel free that someone hastily explains the plan during the initial phase! The meat of everything else will be played out via megathreads and any private toplevels people want to make.
Warnings: Probably violence.
When: Day 115
Where: Polaris
What: On the morning of day 115, a couple hours before the technicians would come to pick up the test subjects, the escape plan will officially come into effect. If your character has been left out of the loop up till this point, feel free that someone hastily explains the plan during the initial phase! The meat of everything else will be played out via megathreads and any private toplevels people want to make.
Warnings: Probably violence.
PEER REVIEW↴![]() The plan starts with getting everyone out of their cells. Childermass is going to be using his Gilded Mark to enhance his shadow movement abilities, unabling him to teleport himself and other people out of containment. If your character has other ways of escaping they are free to pursue that, but on a base level, it can be assumed that everyone gets out thanks to Childermass. (Thanks Childermass!) Once everyone has been removed from their cells by some means or another, they will be forced to split into teams as swiftly as possible, as the moment people start breaking out, negative attention from the staff will start building. The area is poorly guarded at first, but as people become aware of the breakout, more will arrive. Gild, speaking on behalf of her inside plant, will say that those that 1) want to get their stuff back, 2) want to find Ignatius, should get the assistance of their allied Deltas to access sector A5. From there, they will have to access Polaris's storage in A3, a neighbouring sector, and find access to C2, the station where Ignatius is being held. They should expect to be met with armed resistance, but with any luck allies will be there to assist them. In general, characters will be most effective if they back one of these major objectives: ► TEAM LOOT: This team is trying to get back the items and pets that were confiscated when the group was brought into Polaris. Their objective, according to their allies on the inside, is to get to A5, and then make their way to A3. The important thing is being able to locate their stuff among a sea of other items, and to make it through security in order to reclaim it. Gild's plant has said that they will assist with this. After getting these items, Team Loot may wish to merge with Team Rescue. ► TEAM RESCUE: This team's primary focus is to get to A5 and then make their way to C2. If desired, they may wait for or join with Team Loot, or they may strike out ahead in order to take advantage of the element of surprise. The key factors are obtaining a way to access C2, as well as being prepared for armed conflict with the technicians guarding it, as well as possibly the Mother of Invention herself. Though, the ideal is that Gild will be distracting here at that time. ► TEAM DISTRACTION: This team can do their thing wherever they please, as their main intent is to sew general discord and distract the staff from the teams doing more important things. They should be prepared for armed resistance, but what tactics they pursue beyond that point are highly variable. ► TEAM FORTRESS: This team is attempting to set up a protective base of operations in the original sector in order to survive the conflict and protect their noncombatant comrades. How they accomplish this is also highly variable. Other objectives may exist, of course, and can be made with their own separate top levels. Chunks of these megathreads will have to be played out in summary form, so when characters are simply trying to get from place to place and specifics aren't necessary, feel free to stick to that format. Assume that everyone is already out of their cells for the purpose of the megathreads. Here is a shitty map of how the sectors connect, from a side view of the central Polaris hub. |
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"You--" And he catches himself, marshals his tone into something calmer. If Childermass is this obviously uncharacteristically upset, raising his voice isn't going to help much, is it?
"About what?" Is what he settles on, visibly wary. What he feels guilty about looms large in his mind, but that's not necessarily what's on Childermass's. "What do you remember?"
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He has to stop for a breath or two, forcing another bout of panic or anger down, even if he already sounds miserable about the entire ordeal. It passes. He continues.
"All these days thinking you were dead and gone and all I wanted to do was give up but you just didn't want to tell me."
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"There wasn't a good time. You had to focus on yourself." The witcher pushes himself to his feet, visibly conflicted on what the best course of action would be. If they were somewhere else, under different circumstances, it would be easy. He'd pull the magician to him and just hold him tight until that panic passed. But even if Childermass claims to have recovered his memory, the distance he's keeping from suggests that wouldn't be welcome right now.
"You would have done the same."
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"Would you have even said anything if I had asked?" He doesn't know the answer to that one. He may not have answered, either. "Does it even matter?"
The magician turns, dropping his hand away from the ring on his thumb. He almost takes a step closer but catches himself before he does, still preferring to rail at Lambert from a distance.
"I woke up one day with you missing and then they ripped me open and shoved the Void back in—" He grips the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart. He's sure that's what it is. That's what it had to be, what they injected, what they were experimenting with. "And all I wanted was for this to end and Ignatius couldn't even manage that much!"
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The magician may not take a step forward, but the witcher will, forgetting his resolve as his eyes catch on that flicker of light off the ring's surface and the mention of Void catches him up with concern as Childermass clutches at his chest. Interpreting the gesture as pain, he closes the distance between them, reaching out to rest a hand on the magician's shoulder before he hyperventilates himself into a fit.
"Hey--" he tries. He's not sure what to say, only that he should be saying something instead of just standing here getting shouted at.
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"Don't," he says. No actual pain, sure, but panic certainly holds an edge in his gravelly voice. "I don't want to be touched. Just... don't." That said, he can't help but laugh. "You think you were protecting me? If you had meant to, you wouldn't have gotten yourself thrown into Theta. I told you, I told you to take care of yourself, but you didn't listen, did you?"
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"I did listen," he says, quietly. It's hard not to want to mirror the tension in the way Childermass is carrying, to press for a fight he doesn't actually want in response to the uncomfortable emotions welling up.
"I just picked the wrong trial to take. I didn't know there was anyone outside trying to get in, so I picked what I thought could help more people if we were stuck here longer." Maybe that would have changed the choice he made, maybe not. And it turned out all but useless in the end, any information he'd gotten something that the Deltas could have gotten just as easily. He hasn't even seen Shima since. For all he knows, the kid's gotten flattened with an energy blast...
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At least with him answering for Lambert, rather than pursuing the question, leaves him free to not explain what had happened, what the trial had been about. Worse, it reminds him that he had his own secrets he never told and it has him turning away and stepping up to the shore of the pool, if only to sink to his knees, exhausted. He doesn't even want to stand anymore. How will he even find the energy to fly away again?
"The archer's message, it told me to stay quiet," he admits, "And so I did. I thought if it got around, too many eyes everywhere, too many ears, that it'd be nothing, but now it seems people were passing her mark around like it was candy to share. I really am nothing but a fool. The bear, the mark, Ignatius, everything keeps backfiring on me."
Even if the mark did, in the end, help him free everyone. It doesn't change that he never said anything about it, not to anyone. Bad enough Gild had stopped speaking to him when he turned up confused. What if she had withdrawn her favor on top of that? What then? Obviously that hadn't happened but it was still foolish. At least, it feels that way.
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"You're just human," is what Lambert finally settles on. "At least your mistakes gave people a chance." In some cases, the chance to try something stupid, but ... probably not helpful to bring up how Strange using that burst of magic to drop himself in Theta, right now.
"I hate what you did, but we couldn't have gotten ourselves out without what happened to Ignatius. I know that." The rest -- shadows, the doors to the dimension holding their things -- it's impossible for him to imagine how they were meant to help Gild with nothing but the Marks to arm themselves and carve their way to the Core. Compared to freedom, a little soul damage and some lost memories seems cheap, but it's hard to try and comfort Childermass while trying not to choke on his own relief at the same time. It could have been worse.
"Can't help with the bear, though," he tries to joke. "That was all you."
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"And I'm not," he says, falling back to an earlier comment. "I'm not just human anymore. I haven't been since Portland, I just haven't wanted to accept it. I can't go back to England like this, Lambert. Even if that's ever an option. Without the Ringmaster, I suppose it isn't..."
Whether it's an improvement or not that he's fallen into a tired, gruff monotone rather than yelling or panicking again, who knows.
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“Why not? John Uskglass came back after living with the faeries, why can’t you? Even if the Ringmaster’s gone, she can’t be the only fae that can bring you back. Might take a little longer, but if the Caravan can manage to hop worlds, maybe you can too.”
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"John Uskglass was raised in Faerie," he points out coldly before looking back across the pool and finally deciding to get back to his feet. "He came back to our world and told our lands to be magic and they were. You can hardly compare me to that."
That's like saying if God could do something, why not Childermass?
"And trying to find my home without the Ringmaster would be folly, anyhow. There are infinite Earths, infinite Englands. Worse, I'd be going back with nothing to show for all my effort."
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His voice hasn’t raised as much as one might expect, but it’s getting harder to keep himself from just reaching out and shaking the magician. He turns away from Childermass instead, crossing his arms tighter and drawing the illusion of the Gamma over himself again.
“We might be headed to the Summerlands next. See if we can get the Summer Maiden’s help get the Ringmaster back.” It’s easier to be calmer without his own voice in his ears. “The Gilded Mark thinks the Huntsman allying with Winter is a problem, maybe enough of a problem for the Summer Court, so that might be a fight coming too.”
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"Strange is closer to the Raven King than I'll ever be, Lambert," he says, adamant to clear that here and now. Flattery from one's lover is nice but there are limits. "Before the carnival, I hand nothing but a handful of parlor tricks to be creative with."
But he'll leave it at that. It may not matter in the end, if they never even get back to England, their England, any England. That's where his sad bout of amusement will fade. It's tempting to remind Lambert that the Summerlands left the Summer Court, that they had no say in what the Court would do, but...
"It will be a difficult argument to make," he settles on that instead. "They aren't a people for war." And after saying as much, he'll frown and scrutinize the illusion the witcher has pulled about himself. It would be a lie to say hiding the Mother's alterations is a relief but, at the same time, that isn't Lambert. "Why are you hiding under that?"
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Lambert shakes his head; Childermass’s misunderstood his point. “I think the Summer Court would be happy to have the Ringmaster taken. But maybe they’ll fight Winter for their own sake, that keeps one enemy off our back. If we can get help from the Summerlands, maybe...”
And Childermass asks that, of course. The Gamma’s expression mostly remains neutral, Lambert’s tone light and mocking.
“Why not? Maybe I just like the look, and I don’t feel like stripping a technician for clothes.”
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In any case, the explanation from Lambert is lacking and the magician can only look at him in mild disbelief.
"You'll steal whatever you want from whoever you want or wander around naked as you please. It's never bothered you before."
Everyone's seen Lambert naked by now. It's a constant.
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“Too bad this probably wouldn’t fool Baker for long. I always meant to try that...”
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"Someone might expect you to take things seriously looking like me," he warns, at least making some small effort to go along with the joke. It's a start, at least. "I am going to miss that shirt. I left it back in my trailer. Baker, though... He's at least in my shadow."
He's just grateful he had no cause to release the Arcanine. Everything is beginning to seem too dangerous for the dog, even if that dog happens to be as tall as him and breathing fire.
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“Are you implying I don’t take everything seriously?” Lambert makes a show of drawing his brows down and pouting at Childermass. It’s also probably a little different hearing his own gravel-rough voice coming from someone else’s throat instead of in his own head, no matter how mock-offended it sounds...
“Let him out this instant so I can give him some very serious belly rubs.” And Lambert has a suspicion that while Childermass might not want to be touched by Lambert right now, a big, dopey dog with no concerns except whatever innocent doggy thoughts go through his head is a different story.
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"You demand that now but you'll regret it when he tackles you," is the only warning Lambert gets before he closes his hand -- a small pocket of shadow and an idea is all he needs to rummage around these days -- and produce the Pokeball, sized small until he hits the button. It expands and pops open. There's that telltale flash of light and, just as expected, Lambert is about to find a mass of orange and cream fur with a wildly wagging tail and way too much drool for anyone's own good leaping at him.
He does look like Childermass, after all. Leap first, smell later.
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“Fuck!” Childerbert cusses colorfully as a paw plants itself on the entire giant bruise of his side right now and the recently bandaged gash. Wheezing for breath, he raises a hand, pushing at Baker and trying to pitch his command like Childermass would.
“Get off, you great beast, you’re not a puppy anymore!”
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Baker will move his paw as he's shoved at, twisting partway around to look back at the real Childermass with ears perked. One Childermass there. He looks down again. He may not be standing on Lambert anymore, but he is standing over him, effectively pinning the witcher where he is. Second Childermass down there.
Yeah, Baker just whines, puzzled until he leans down again to shove his nose in Lambert's face and sniff.
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“Fine,” he says, still a little breathless. “Then I guess I’ll just have to steal your dog too.”
He puts his hands right up against that big fuzzy head as it leans in to sniff him, finding Baker’s favorite spots to give a vigorous scratch.
“Isn’t that right, boy?” he croons. “Come with me and I’ll feed you enough treats to make you pop.”
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"Baker, here," Childermass will call him off before the witcher drowns in overly warm dog breath. That gets him away from hovering over Lambert, turning tail to go trot over to his master. Surprising no one (or at least no one around them aka just Lambert), he does reach out to let the dog shove his big, dumb face into his arms for ear scritches.
"You can only feed him that many treats after we're away from this god-forsaken place." He adds that just in case Lambert's planning to follow through on that promise. "I don't want him eating anything made on here. It's all poison."
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Or maybe they would. He doesn’t know much about what Winter would and wouldn’t do, not really. With Baker off him and safely in Childermass’s arms, he rolls to his feet and heads back to the pool to splash water on his face. Last thing he wants is his face wounds getting infected by magic doggy drool on top of whatever else was on Strange’s claws. He keeps an eye to Childermass and Baker, content that the plan seems to have worked for the moment. Though he does sadly have to burst Childermass’s bubble —
“We aren’t leaving just yet. The fae need time to rest up. Camping in the Wyld Lands for the night is an option, but we might end up getting jumped, too.” His gaze drifts, searching for a horizon he can’t see. “There’s still the rest of the technicians to worry about. They might not believe she’s gone so easily.”
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