lostcarnival | ⇨ POLARIS 3.0

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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.

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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There's something inherently funny about Lambert saying that you don't always have to do something alone: Strange bites down on his lip to stop himself from laughing before he starts to explain.

"For the longest time, I did always have to do something alone. When Norrell and I worked together, we worked together wonderfully. Likewise, I could always depend on Arabella. But then I was away at war or I thought Arabella died or I became cursed and I had deal with whatever problems were thrown at me by myself."

Which is how you get great solutions like 'literally going bugfuck crazy'. Strange isn't treating this as a justification, more of an explanation.

Edited 2018-11-14 22:51 (UTC)

“And witchers are taught to work alone,” Lambert points out in return. “Sure, we don’t usually get caught up in problems like ‘getting cursed by a faerie you getting trapped in a life-draining pillar of darkness,’ but ... if you didn’t learn to patch yourself up, if you weren’t prepared enough for what you’re up against, you die. Alone, and pathetic. A lot of witchers have.”

Lambert exhales.

“But that was then. We—” he gesticulates around himself. “We’re all right here. And I know if we’re going to figure out something about all this we’re going to need each other. I need you. Even if it’s not always in the way you want me to. I ... I don’t know, that probably doesn’t make sense.”

He scrubs a hand over his face, nose scrunched childishly, only to wince as it brushes over his recent (Strange-inflicted) injuries. Uggggh, he hates talking so much.

It's Strange's turn to struggle with words. He's still not looking at Lambert as he pauses, bites down in his tongue, then continues.

"Do you need me? Or do you need my magic? Because if I'm being honest, a lot of your recent decisions have focused on the latter but not the former."

God, this probably makes no sense at all. But it's what he's been trying to tell Lambert for a lot of this conversation.

“I need my friend,” Lambert answers, emphasis heavy on the ‘friend.’ “But lately, he’s been a little busy with his other friend, and it feels like he only listens to what I say only when it fits in with something that can help them, or if it’s something that fit into what he wanted to do anyway. Considering he’s taken every chance he can to tell me I’m wrong about that friend or that he’s a better friend than I am instead of letting me form my own opinions, I’m kind of sick of hearing about them. So that’s kind of limited our conversation topics.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, groaning.

“I can’t do anything right. Either I’m not showing any trust in your or your abilities, or I’m someone who only cares about your magic when I do ask you to use it.” He exhales. “If I’m being honest, a lot of your recent decisions have focused on Ignatius, not the rest of us. And that’s fine, but ... I miss when it didn’t feel that way.”

Edited 2018-11-15 03:21 (UTC)

As Lambert talks, it clicks in Strange's mind. This is about Ignatius. All of this is about Ignatius. Lambert's...Lambert's jealous. He's jealous that Strange has spent time with someone else, jealous that Strange talks about someone else, focuses on someone else, wants to protect someone else, and that someone else isn't him.

Considering that Strange had a long conversation with Yuya that partly boiled down to 'I don't feel like I'm anyone's top priority in the carnival', to hear that Lambert is bitter about not being Strange's top priority anymore is absolutely fucking hilarious.

It's hilarious in a heartbreaking way, of course. But that doesn't stop Strange from letting out a little chuckle that soon devolves into a full-pitched, slightly hysterical laughter, the sort of laughter that's laughing to keep from crying. Quickly, he tries to push out some words so that Lambert doesn't get the wrong impression and end the conversation then and there.

"Is that why you wanted me to be a convenient sword to fall upon? Because you miss talking to me? Because at least if we're talking about your death, it's not about Ignatius? Of course I've focused on Ignatius, I needed to—" quick pause, catch his breath "—ever since he arrived here, I've needed to protect him." From Eden, from Polaris, from the court of public opinion, from all the things that can hurt and harm a depowered fae who got his ass kicked by a magical library and kidnapped by a ragtag band of misfits.

“Does he think that?” Lambert asks, looking up at Strange. He’s entirely oblivious to the magician’s train of thought, preoccupied by his own ruminations, which are mostly along the lines of ‘how did we get here yet again’ and how the Carnival seems like a great big circle of people trying to non-consensually protect each other like fucking morons. “Did you ever ask him if he wanted your protection? Or is that something you decided he needed, too?”

Because that’s funny, since he started out protecting the Carnival from him. The hysteria isn’t a good sign, but Lambert’s not sure what’s going on with that, so he’ll press on.

“That wasn’t about Ignatius. I asked you because I thought you’d understand what it felt like to want that,” he says. “To be more scared of ... of doing something you might regret later than you were of dying. It was selfish, and I should have known better. You apologized for asking the same thing before, and I should have remembered it felt like shit.” He snorts, quietly. “The rest of it ... if you asking you to do things is using you, then I’m sorry. I’ll stop asking.”

He honestly doesn’t know what to say besides that. He starts to gather up his swords and kit. He doesn’t have shadows or a mirror to fall through, unfortunately, so any exit will have to be a slow one. He’s not nearly drunk enough for this much emotional honesty in a conversation and he’s not sure how much of what he said is just passing through one ear and out the other. It’s been a stressful time. Maybe conversations like this should have waited until they were somewhere safer, when they were more well rested, but Lambert doesn’t know anything.

Edited 2018-11-15 05:12 (UTC)

As Lambert starts to gather his swords, Strange reaches out to grab his wrist and tries to prevent him from doing so. As far as Strange is concerned, they're not finished with this conversation just yet. He's trying to regain his composure, trying to push down some of that hysterical laughter, as he looks over directly at Lambert and tries to make eye contact for the first time in a while.

"I need my friend as well. But considering that my friend didn't trust me with something as simple as who he loves, I thought he didn't need me. And then when my friend didn't trust me enough to help protect the carnival and do the job I've been doing for a good portion of a year...I thought something like 'hell, he must not think I'm good enough any more. Well that's alright, I've got a different friend who does trust me and does think I'm good enough, I'll feel better if I focus on him instead.'"

He takes a few shallow breaths, trying to push past the hysteria and get all his words out before Lambert goes anywhere. "And then to go from you barely trusting me to keep people safe to you trusting me with your life...I had no idea what the hell you wanted from me." Strange pauses, before clarifies, "I still have no idea what the hell you want from me."

Lambert stares back at Strange, the Gamma’s face and simulated visor making it difficult to tell what all exactly is going on under there. He doesn’t try to pull away, though, evidently working though his own thoughts. There’s a lot of things he could say, like Are you seriously fucking telling me all your trust issues with me started from me not telling you who I was sleeping with to Honestly, looking at you right now I’m really not sure you could protect a paper bag, and gods help it if you tried, but he systematically pushes them down as not helpful, one at a time.

“Yeah, well ... me either,” is what he finally says after a long pause. “But I know it’s not this.”

So nothing very helpful there.

“And I don’t think it matters. Because what you want matters more. You said it yourself, right? Your plan’s always been the same.”

As long as he can, Strange just holds tight onto Lambert's wrist, as if doing so will keep Lambert from going away and actually force him to stay put and have this conversation.

A brief look of exasperation flashes across Strange's face at Lambert's entirely unhelpful remark. Strange knows what he wants from Lambert: he wants to be trusted, wants to be included, and wants his friend back. How the hell is it so hard for Lambert to decide what he wants from Strange?

"But what I want involves you! I'm not an idiot, I know Ignatius won't be around forever." He's got a Court to go back to. He's got a life and a cause to go back to, just as Strange and Childermass do. The fact that he stayed on after recovering his Heart in Shabon is intensely admirable and yet another reason why Strange just absolutely loves this guy, but now that he has his Heart, he's going to leave at some point. And Strange is certain about that because that's what he'd do if he was in Ignatius' place.

"But you're coming back to England with m—with Childermass. We're going to spend the rest of our lives together and I don't want to spend it like this!"

Probably because the answer is some variation on ‘can you stop acting kind of crazy and like we’re out to persecute you and reflect on your own actions for once instead of feeling sorry for yourself’ which would go over as well as asking a fae to swallow iron.

More importantly, though, there might be a slight problem with one of Strange’s assumptions right now.

“About that ... we might not,” Lambert admits, uncertainly. “Childermass doesn’t think he can go back to England.” And where Childermass goes, Lambert follows, as Strange has correctly caught himself to say.

Wait, what. This is news to Strange whose expression shifts from confused to annoyed to downright worried in all of a matter of moments.

"Is this about the curse? That's why I suggested the Rose Queen plan in the first place!" Strange grumbles. Sure it'd be nice if the Rose Queen managed to take out the Huntsman...but it'd be even nicer if the Huntsman managed to take her out, thereby possibly removing the curse.

"He's got to go back to England," Strange points out, as he removes his hand from Lambert's wrist. "An entirely new age of magic is beginning, he's got to be there to shape it!"

It's obvious that there's a whole host of reasons why Strange wants Childermass back in England that are more than just 'he's my friend and I'm going to miss him.'

Lambert crosses his arms, lips turning down sharply.

“It’s about a lot of things,” he snaps. “And he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. Magic means more to him than anything else. He wouldn’t make that kind of decision lightly.”

"But he wants to be there," Strange continues, insistent in his own thoughts. Childermass may be making this decision, but Strange has a feeling that Childermass isn't taking his own wants into account.

Strange is working himself into a bit of a worried frenzy as he frowns and thinks.

"Did he tell you any of his other reasons? Or shall I have to guess?"

“Hasn’t he been through enough without having to answer to you too? He’s not your servant,” Lambert points out, irritable.

“Nothing’s decided. We aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Leave it alone.”

That makes Strange bristle a little bit, as he looks over at Lambert with a glare. Lambert's words at least snap Strange out of his worry as he shifts right to irritation then to trying to calm himself down because he realizes just how irritated Lambert's comment makes him and he doesn't want to show it.

"All Childermass has done, he's done for English magic. I'm not foolish enough to believe he focused so much on keeping me alive out of friendship." At least, not at first. Now, who the hell knows.

"And I resent the implication that I'm asking about this out of some...I don't know, some presumed need to know. I'm asking because I care about him—and you as well."

Lambert exhales, crossing his arms tighter and shaking his head.

“You know how Childermass is. He keeps a lot to himself. Even from me. So when you ask me if I know his reasons or not...”

He trails off and looks away. It’s a sore point. Strange might bitch about Childermass keeping secrets from him all he wants, but it feels shittier being the person closest to him and still not understand everything going on in his head.

Edited 2018-11-20 12:10 (UTC)

There's a small little pause before Strange admits, "He loves you. You're each other's most important person. I thought you'd know."

That awkward pause lingers for a bit as Strange bites down the urge to gloat about how much it sucks when people don't tell you things, how's that feel, huh Lambert? Instead, he settles on a simple "I'm sorry."

It’s a good thing Strange reels it in or he’d be finding out first hand how unpleasant it is to get a fist of metal bones to the face. Lambert looks and sounds upset and distracted enough as it is. He just hangs his head, shoulders slumping.

“You could try to talk to him. Like you said ... he cares about magic. Maybe another magician can get him to see why that matters.” He’s just a simple witcher in the end, same as he’s always been.

“Right now, he can’t even look at me. I’m not going to be the one who convinces him of anything.”

Edited 2018-11-20 14:13 (UTC)

Even without the other magician angle, most of Strange's fun Polaris changes are internal. His eye's healed up enough that he doesn't need the eyepatch and he doesn't need to mention 'oh by the way, my bones are now mirrors' until after he and Childermass have a conversation. It would make sense for someone not as changed to try the feelings talk.

But on the other hand, Strange just barely got himself out of a depressive slump. How the hell is he supposed to help Childermass out of one as well?! Still, Strange never backs down from a challenge and he likes Lambert too much to say no.

"I can try," Strange responds, with a little nod. Though, before he does... "Is there anything going on between the two of you that I should know about? If part of his reasoning for not going to England involves...I don't know, a fight or something, it'd be better if I hear it from you than him."

Because he sure as hell wouldn't hear it from Childermass in the first place.

It’s potentially less about getting Childermass out of anything and sitting in companiable misery, but who knows if he’ll even permit that, really? Lambert shakes his head.

“Not as far as I know. But talking might go over better if it’s not on this floating piece of crap.” He grimaces. Sadly, they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon, as much as he’d like to. Said ‘floating piece of crap’ has a lot to do with worsening his own mood, but ...

“Before that, it needs to be cleared out and sorted out. I’m taking whoever’s up to it to go through the rest of the station and see if there’s anything useful or if we need to take any more techs out.”

Strange makes a small little annoyed noise as Lambert mentions staying in Polaris for a bit. Can't they settle this themselves?

"I've got lethal and nonlethal, depending on your preference." Burn a dude alive or gas him, take your pick. "You know you'll have my help."

Because Strange is an idiot who can't say no to his friends.

That makes Lambert's brow furrow just a bit, glancing over at the magician.

"Is it being offered, or are you going to walk away from this feeling used again?"

"This makes sense," Strange explains, though his voice sounds a bit tired as he does so. "Asking me to kill you when there's plenty of other carnival members who would do it without a contract or asking me to carry out a stealth mission doesn't. But gassing or killing someone...that's something sensible for me to do."

But he still kind of hates the idea that killing someone has become a logical solution to his problems.

"You know 'sensible' is just about the last word anyone would use for you, right?" Just pointing out the obvious. For the moment, though, he'll simply shake his head and move on.

"I'd rather knock them out. I don't want to have to figure out what to do with bodies. I just want to get what we need and get out." For him, of all people, to be the pacifist now, even if it's for the simple reason that it's a damn headache ... Geralt and Eskel would laugh their asses off.

"We'll sort out who's going with who later to cover as much of the place as we can. Until then..."

"I'm very sensible," Strange grumbles, more to himself than to Lambert. "Just not in the ways people want me to be."

It's not his fault that other people can't see or don't agree with Strange's internal code of ethics! As Lambert mentions knocking them out, Strange nods. That makes sense: and thank god it's knocking them out instead of murder.

"Until then, try not to get yourself hurt again. You can't lead your army if you're broken into tiny little pieces." Though Strange's tone is pure joking, there's an oddly serious expression on his face. Seriously. Don't get hurt.

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whattaprick - 2018-11-30 16:43 (UTC) - Expand

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