lostcarnival | ⇨ POLARIS AFTERMATH

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⇨ POLARIS AFTERMATH

Who: Everyone!
When: Day 115-118
Where: Polaris/Wyldlands
What: After killing the Mother of Invention, the majority of the carnival has decided to take some time and sort out the Polaris refugees before heading to the Summerlands. This log covers miscellaneous post-Mother Polaris drama, as well as some light camping in the Wyldlands down below.
Warnings: Idk, stuff, I guess.

ADAPTATION↴

After the battle, the majority of carnival members will opt to remain in the secured section to Polaris, hoping to spend some time making sure that the rest of Polaris is liberated. Many of the staff are not capable of coming to grips with the fact that the Mother is dead so quickly, and the remaining Alphas are doing their best to keep Polaris under their sway. It will be a busy few days of changing minds and exploring the remains of the station. Thankfully, with everyone's powers intact and allies at their side, they finally have the advantage.

► SHIFTING STATES: Right off the bat, about 10% of the staff will immediately change sides upon hearing whats become of the Mother. They are actively eager to get away from Polaris, and will do whatever they can assist the carnival. This is mostly Gammas and a few Betas, who were working primarily under duress. Over the next day or two, those numbers will grow to at least 30%, with some of the staff managing to convince their colleagues to join them. About two days after starting, one of the Alphas will surrender to the carnival, encouraging those beneath her to support their cause. That leaves four Alphas remaining, and staff cooperation at 50%.

► CAPTIVE ATTENTION: The loyalist staff's main tactics are trying to create defensive points within the various test group areas, using the prisoners as hostages. Luckily, the carnival (and the staff on their side) will be in a position where it's possible to push them out with a mixture of convincing and force. Once prisoners start being freed, there will be even more force backing the carnival's efforts, meaning that it will essentially become a matter of cleaning up the remaining staff rather than any uphill battles. Most of this is being left vague intentionally, as most of this action is being handwaved. However, you can play out parts of it if you want and NPC technicians and rescuees. Other test groups can be filled with basically whatever kind of residents you like, since they are grabbed from across the multiverse. Most of the test areas are similar to B7.

► THE JACKPOT: Alongside cleaning up the staff, some members of the carnival have expressed interest in convincing the staff to help them with armoury issues as well as hunting down some of the Mother's most private loot. This will be handled in investigations, mostly through summary, because I don't have it in me for another megathread right now. Post your plans, and I will respond! However, know that I also don't have time to generate five million special items, so loot drops will be limited to my availability. Also, the techs aren't really blacksmiths so they generally won't really be able creating weapons from scratch or anything.

Meanwhile, Ignatius is going to set up a camp ground outside of Polaris, mostly because he doesn't want to be there anymore. He'll keep a fire going and they can drag things from Polaris down there for camping purposes, and mostly Ignatius is just going to be chilling and making sure that the campground doesn't get assaulted by magical creatures. The Gilded Mark will create a portal between the campground and the station so that people can go back and forth as required. It also creates a handy escape route.

You can even see Polaris from here, floating up there in the sky. How picturesque.

► WYLDERKIN: Apparently not everything in the Wyld Lands is a full Wyld Fae - there are also a lot of less powerful creatures called 'wylderkin' - apparently lesser forms of the Wyld Fae, who are more akin to animal level intelligence. They can be a variety of expected fantasy type creatures, such as flower sprites, weird bugs, and general prey animals they probably spend most of their time getting eaten by bigger dudes. All of them are sort of weird and fantastical, and none of them are exactly like earth varieties, though they may resemble them. They are more of a pest than a major threat in this part of the Wyld Lands, and Ignatius will scare away any that cause too many problems.

► FLORA AND FLUID: There are some plants that you can eat down here, that Ignatius will tell you about. Mostly weird berries and roots. There is also some pools of clear water, thought hey are filled with weird fish. Try not to bitten by any weird leeches. You can safely make up some of the creatures you find as long as they fit the general theme of lesser faerie creatures. This is just a rest stop.

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It's a little avoidant for reasons he's dodging, but being a plant person does make a convenient alternate excuse for why he might be wary with fire.

He wrinkles his nose a little. He doesn't have to ask why Strange is so interested in helping him with this, because Strange is very focused on magic. And he's sure he's more interested in the magic than Syrlya himself, which is mostly just annoying by this point. And trying to politely decline probably won't work (though, maybe he should unpolitely decline).

"Fine." His hand is still braced against the tree to keep himself steady. "I will meet you at the entrance."

He tilts his head in a brief gesture before just teleporting straight to it. He knows he doesn't have enough steadiness in his legs to walk the whole way, but he doesn't need to move that much to cast magic. At the opening, he leans against the rubbled wall and crosses his arms, waiting.

It takes Strange a little bit longer as he's got to actually get the cloak. But eventually, he'll show up to the entrance of the farm, with a red cloak whose colors shimmer like the sun. There's a golden sun emblem on the cloak itself: the symbol of Ignatius.

Strange offers the cloak to Syrlya...before he frowns a little. "Out of curiosity, have you been to the farm since all this started?"

Because it's kind of super burned to hell and back.

"I hadn't" but from where the Mother of Invention busted through, he can see plenty. Trees turned to blackened twigs and much of the ground scorched, and the awful smell of wet ash and the lingering smoke from when they tried to contain it.

He looks over his shoulder to Strange with barely contained amusement on his face. He reaches for the cloak. "I suppose we did need a large enough distraction that would keep the entire sector busy."

Obviously they had the right people for that job.

Strange matches Syrlya's amused expression with a wry little smile of his own. "I'm still bitter about not going on the rescue mission with Ignatius," he says, because might as well address what is obvious. "But I suppose if you needed someone as a distraction, I would be the best candidate."

He takes a few steps away from Syrlya, backing up from the Sylvari as Strange gestures to what remains of the farm. "Now. Go ahead and cut loose."

Syrlya rolls his eyes, pulling away from the wall. "You told me to trust you to be yourself, didn't you? Loud, obnoxious, and no sense of subtly is a perfect distraction... those were your words, remember."

Although there were a host of other reason Syrlya didn't want to bring Strange with him to save Ignatius. When Strange puts space between them, he faces out to the blackened remains of the farm. He holds his hand out, palm up, and after a second a small flame appears a couple inches over it. Loosening his concentration on it is slow, letting the fire grow up and out while trying to keep his hand a healthy distance away from it.

"I know. But Ignatius is my friend." And sometimes the heart is stupid and wants to help protect and save the friend no matter what, even if the brain points out things like 'what the hell were you expecting to do' and 'Syrlya doesn't trust you anyway.'

But now's not the time to talk about this. Strange places his hands behind his back as he watches Syrlya summon the flame and let it grow. He frowns a little as Syrlya keeps the distance. "I know you're made of wood, but you can't be afraid of the fire. You'll never fully master it if you keep this distance between the two of you."

Syrlya doesn't comment on the Ignatius thing, mostly because he snaps his attention and looks surprised at Strange's neck comment.

"I--I am not afraid of it." He will not admit he's afraid of it. But the flame stops growing, his fingers curling slightly in defensiveness. "I simply don't want to add getting carelessly burned to my injuries."

Oh, so now he cares about injuries.

Strange raises an eyebrow in Syrlya's direction. So he's totally afraid of it. Which again, makes sense, he's a plant. But if Syrlya is developing this fire magic, then the last thing he needs to do is be scared of what he can make. Strange still has that wry smile on his face as he mulls over how to do this and what to do next.

"Says the man who can't even make it big enough to carelessly burn himself in the first place."

What to do next is apparently 'taunting.'

Syrlya just looks incredulous. "I'm working on it. But it isn't as though I was expecting to suddenly find myself being able to cast it at all. This wasn't on purpose!"

From a utilitarian standpoint, there's no reason not to master a tool that's been basically handed to him. But he's just not enthused about being able to cast fire. Why couldn't the Blue Rose be any other element, really?

He grudgingly turns back to the flame, roughly baseball sized now, and tries to... release his control, which is the opposite of how he's used to getting grander effects out of magic--and then it doubles in a second and Syrlya's whole body tenses.

As the fire doubles in size and Syrlya tenses, Strange just grins. His way of magic is entirely different from Syrlya's way of magic—for all he knows, this might be two different styles clashing with each other and no hopes of reaching a middle. But man, it is so reassuring to see the fire spike up like that.

"Work with the flame," Strange calls out. Point and shoot would probably be the easiest method of working with fire. So, Strange takes a few steps away from Syrlya, bends down to place a hand on the ground, and mutters a few words. A small pillar of earth shoots up a few feet away from him.

"Like I said, it wants to burn. And now you have something for it to burn," Strange says, as he gestures to the pillar. "Stop thinking and let it do it's purpose."

Syrlya looks between the flame and the pillar, and is honestly more than eager to get it somewhere further away. He can manage throwing magic, he's had spells like that already, so he twists his hand and swings it as the flame is thrown forward at the pillar.

It crashes just a little off center, embers smoldering on the parts of the dirt that carry the impact better than most of it. Syrlya keeps his shoulders square, reigning in his reactions and trying to mask his worry from Strange.

He focuses on conjuring the flame again. It's a little faster this time, and just the same he throws it with quick precision.

Strange stands still and watches. This is a pretty basic way of dealing with the fire, but it shows that at least Syrlya isn't scared of the basics. He's watching with rapt excitement as the fire hits the target over and over again.

"You're doing good," Strange adds on. That part is true, not any sort of teasing or flattery. "How well do you think you can hit a moving target?"

Syrlya stops mid gesture, before he conjures up more. "Fine? I am used to fighting moving targets."

Most people don't like to just get wailed on by magic and sharp objects. Although from a distance he's had the aid of the magic itself to find the target for a lot of spells.

"Wonderful!" Strange exclaims, with a wide, slightly worrying grin. He takes a few steps back, putting a lot of distance between himself and Syrlya.

"Try to hit me. I don't care how much fire you use, just use enough that it would make the hit count. For the first few rounds, I'll even be kind and not try to hit you back."

Syrlya gives Strange a disbelieving look. He thought he meant he'd be moving earth targets around, not himself.

"Strange I have only just discovered I can to this. I don't want to be responsible for burning you."

He could hold back, make sure its easy to dodge, but that kind of defeats the point doesn't it? He's assuming this is Strange's confidence talking.

"I'm fireproof now," Strange explains, as if this is something completely obvious and not something that he literally just discovered a few days ago. "It won't matter if you burn me!"

He is still way too happy and way too cheery about the idea of possibly being set on fire.

"You are... fireproof." Syrlya squints. But it's not like there isn't plenty of examples of fae magic altering body composition to other elements entirely. His arm is crystal (oh, no, what happens if he smashes it).

"Very well." He straightens up holding his hand out to generate another flame. He's trying to compress it into a more spherical form. "I will fire when you move."

Just wait until Syrlya learns how much of Strange is inside mirrors now.

And so, Strange starts moving. He's starting this off slowly, as he leisurely starts walking in a circle around Syrlya. Running or something more difficult will happen later.

Syrlya won't have any problem with aiming accurately while Strange is walking. It's almost too easy, how quickly he manages to toss the fireball just at his front to account for the movement.

He doesn't follow up quickly if it hits, though. He pauses to see if Strange is really as fireproof as he says. And his... clothes, probably.

Clothes aren't flammable. However, as Syrlya's flames catch Strange on fire, he quickly stops the flames with a combination of a murmured incantation and just swatting the flames out with his hands.

"That seemed easy enough." Strange frowns a little, thinking about what to do next...before he realizes that one of the problems with making yourself a moving target is that you've got to move. Fast. "Try it again."

Urrrrrrgh, he hates running. Strange sighs before he starts running in a haphazard pattern, trying to see how well Syrlya's able to aim now.

That's what happens when you volunteer for target practice with the guy whose whole life is fighting things. Absently, Syrlya starts creating another small fireball as his eyes follow Strange's movements. And when he throws it, after a pause, it's calculated--he's not out to make as many attacks as possible, but an attack that he could cause the most concentrated damage with were this a real fight.

And at least focusing on Strange means he's not as focused on the fire being close to him. In fact, he hardly seems to notice its presence.

This one also hits. And again, Strange swats out the flames with an incantation and his hands. His top's getting noticeably charred, but it's still in one piece.

"I'm going to actually try to dodge now," Strange warns Syrlya, with a wry little smile. "Keep it up."

He's not attacking Syrlya. This is still Syrlya throwing fire and Strange trying to get out of the way. But he does need to practice dodging and weaving out of a fight, getting a better hold on his new form, and maybe using that shield spell he thinks he's pierced out. The next time Syrlya throws some fire at Strange, Strange ducks...by quickly poofing into his small, basketball sized, fire elemental form and floating out of the way.

Strange keeps going before Syrlya can ask about his charred top, letting out a sigh as he conjures another fireball and angles that one too. It's coming a little faster, now, but still enough time between them for Strange to strategize his dodging.

Especially when Syrlya stops at seeing him dodge by turning into... well, that's not the 'turn into fire' form Syrlya was expecting. Are those little eyes?

He stares, struck, before slowly bringing a hand to his chin. "It isn't a very good idea to try fighting fire with fire, is it?"

Strange only lingers in that form for a moment before poofing back into his human form. "You aren't the only one who needs training," he'll admit. "This new form is a product of Polaris. I want to get it combat ready."

Or at least, combat ready enough that he can use this form as easily as he can use his smoke form. So far, he's only used this...what, twice or so? That's hardly enough time.

"Try and hit me again."

"Will that include making it... bigger?" Faster? Even having a developed fear of fire, it really doesn't give him the same sort of terror as seeing jets of flame or thrown projectiles would.

But, Syrlya throws another fireball.

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