whattaprick | IC CONTACT for lostcarnival

[ It's after dark, and Lambert's winding down on his work for the day, when the smell of snow and pine hits his nose. He looks up from the list he's currently working on -- a few possibilities have been eliminated, and a few look more promising, so maybe they'll have something they can really start working on tomorrow -- and grins at the magician. ]

Hey. [ He cracks his neck to the side with a winch, then pushes his seat away from the table, waving a hand to extinguish the burner flame under one of the beakers. ] Sorry, Mr. Childermass, we're closed for the night. If you're looking for Strange, he's probably out there getting into trouble.

[ Because that is, he assumes, why Childermass is here. ]

I couldn't care less about what Mr. Strange is out getting in trouble with, Lambert, [ is how Childermass answers that as he crosses the room and stops next to where the witcher sits. He'll give what's on the table a curious look. ] I see you've been keeping busy...

Yeah? [ Lambert tilts his head back to look at Childermass, some of his amusement no doubt at what the magician's face looks like from this perspective. The text details alternations and variations on some kind of potion recipe, notes from both Lambert and the others working on the cure indicating positive and negative reactions, items heavily crossed out where the results were spectacularly poor. ]

And there's not much choice when you've got Strange and Rita and West to keep up with. [ He rolls his shoulders back, groaning quietly, and raises his other hand to rub at his aching, ink-stained fingers. ] They keep asking for shit to test faster than I can make it.

Edited 2017-11-25 04:16 (UTC)

[ That earns a faintly amused huff on the magician's own part, though more from Strange and Rita pestering Lambert (as he's not really acquainted with West) for awful witcher brews. ]

Have you been keeping a tally of things Strange has tried testing on himself?

[ They're all nerds. Demanding nerds. ]

Only the ones he's told me about. Who knows what else he's put in his mouth. I'm pretty sure he didn't try drinking the walking tree's sap, though.

[ Even Strange has his limits. Probably. ]

The one from Alola?

[ Things Everyone Avoids in the Forest 101: Coco. Even Childermass is aware of that monster by now. ]

You can't mean sap from that thing could be useful.

You'd think not, but apparently Rita needed it and sent Strange after it. [ Lambert sniggers, straightening in his seat and getting up with a slow flick of his tail. He's still wearing the kimono Carly gave him, but considering the colder temperatures up here, he's also found a cardigan and shirt with a standing collar to wear under it. Needless to say it's toasty in here. ]

You want a drink? I think I've got something that isn't a component for the cure around here somewhere...

Oh, he must have loved having to do that.

[ If only he had known, that would have been a good moment to be a bird in a tree. Oh well. He can just as easily imagine it and even that much brings a slight smirk to Childermass's face. Well, that and what Lambert is wearing.

He'll step back, giving the witcher room to get up, tail and all. ]

Provided you do, in fact, have something that isn't a component, I wouldn't say no to one. [ 'Vacation' means may as well drink... In any case, he'll also point out the sweater under the kimono and all the rest. ] You know it isn't even that cold up here.

Edited 2017-11-25 06:59 (UTC)

Just because you can't feel it doesn't mean the rest of us don't. [ Lambert sniffs haughtily, heading over to the small kitchenette the cabin is equipped with. A bit of rummaging produces ... well, there isn't much it's stocked with but tea and hot cocoa, so he'll put the kettle on the stove and get the water going. ]

Take your pick from ... [ He sniffs. ] Chamomile, peppermint, or cardamom. If you wanted something with booze, you should have brought your own.

[ He leans his hip against the counter, stifling a yawn. It was easier to ignore when he was sitting down, but after working all day, he's exhausted. ]

[ There's no retort to him not feeling the cold. It's... true enough, but not something he cared to be reminded of. It leaves him awkwardly silent for the moment following that and Lambert asking what kind of tea he wants. Tea, booze, it honestly doesn't matter. ]

And risk having it go into the research? [ There. He can joke about that. He's trailed along after the witcher to the kitchenette, finding a spot against the counter to lean idly once there. ] Peppermint is fine. [ However... ] Want me to take over? You look as though you're going to fall asleep standing.

[ It would be out of character for Lambert not to make at least one uncomfortable joke in a given conversation, after all. If not about this, then it would have just been about something else ... ]

Hah. You say that, but alcohol's actually a pretty useful thing in alchemy. It dissolves a lot of things water won't, and your gut absorbs it into the bloodstream faster. S'why it ends up as a base for most witcher potions.

[ Of course, said potions are also typically not drinkable by the average human as well, since the recipes were developed with efficiency more than palatability in mind ... having caught himself rambling, Lambert makes a face. ]

Maybe you should take over. I'm starting to sound like Vesemir.

Edited 2017-11-25 20:17 (UTC)

And also why you aren't like to find me trying any witcher potions.

[ Because he's not a witcher, even though he is, technically, very magical at this point. He'll take the Vesemir line as permission to go searching through the remaining cupboards and fetch mugs, which is exactly what he does, moving from where he chose to lounge against to the shelves across the way from him.

Although he's not sure if he's ever heard that particular name before. Lambert doesn't usually mention other people from his world, or so he assumes that is... ]

Who's Vesemir? If you're starting to sound like him, my first guess would be you mean an alchemy lecturer.

[ Lambert stays where he is, crossing his arms while Childermass moves around. Has Vesemir come up in conversation before? Maybe it's Strange he's remembering. Hard to keep track of all those tipsy talks. ]

He definitely lectures. [ He snickers, shaking his head. ]

He's another witcher. School of the Wolf, like me. [ He taps the medallion on his chest, restored to its rightful place. ] A real hardass about training, serious stick up his ass if you don't do things exactly the way he says.

Well, knowing that, I imagine you two didn't get along.

[ Because this is Lambert we're talking about, let's be real.

Anyway, mugs found, he sets them down next to the stove as the kettle heats up. ]

Did you learn alchemy from him?

We didn't. [ And from Lambert's shit-eating grin, that fact doesn't bother him one bit. ]

Alchemy, reading, magic, fighting. Mostly fighting. [ Claws pick at a thread on his sweater, absently. Then Lambert snorts quietly and waves a hand back towards the chemistry setup in the main room. ]

He'd probably get a kick out of seeing me now. "So you've finally decided to use your brain for once, have you, young man?' [ His voice drops to a gruff, exasperated tone as he crosses his arms again and shakes his head as he mockingly imitates some long-past scolding. ] 'If only you were as diligent in your studies as you were at sneaking white gull out of the supplies. Maybe you'll survive the Trial after all."

Edited (boy i sure did switch formats in the middle of a tag) 2017-11-27 01:05 (UTC)

[ That earns a half-hearted smirk before the kettle goes off and he has to turn to shut the stovetop off. That leaves his back turned to Lambert, going about getting the tea made. ]

Sounds like a witcher got a better education than most people could hope for, even with the scoldings and monsters.

[ And near-death experiences, he can guess at, but what the Trial is, that's beyond what little he actually knows about witchers. ]

Yeah. [ Lambert agrees. ] Assuming you're one of the lucky few who survive it.

[ Sarcastic emphasis on 'lucky,' naturally, though since Childermass is making the tea, he'll pipe up-- ]

I'll have chamomile.

Mm. [ And he'll automatically fetch the chamomile, plunking that one down into one mug and peppermint down into another. ] The lucky few? Are there not that many witchers around?

[ What a terrible world if their choice if Lambert or death, assuming a different Wolf isn't about. Not that he'll say as much out loud, not even in jest. Too much like kicking a man while he's half rock. ]

[ Lambert shrugs. ]

Considering three in ten ever survive the trial in the first place, half of those die in their first decade out of Kaer Morhen, and nobody's made any new witchers in decades? Yeah. Not a lot of us.

[ He offers Childermass a sardonic grin, all cynical humor, like he can guess at what the magician's thinking even if he doesn't say it out loud. Or possibly just because he's tired, and being an ass and prodding Childermass for any sort of reaction is the best entertainment he has at this time of the night. ]

[ Only there isn't much of a reaction to prod out of him. He just shrugs and pours hot water, making tea in the most boring of fashions as humanly possible. ]

I see... [ Dull answer, yes, he knows, but what the hell else do you say to that? It's not even comparable to losing magicians, since they just got way too many back in, like, a single day. ] I have to admit that that sounds god awful, actually.

[ There we go. That's what you say to that. Yeah, let's go with awful. ]

It was shit. [ Lambert says, simply. ] But whatever. Not like I can change what happened.

[ Although one can probably directly trace his winning personality to that experience. Speaking of not being able to change the past, though... ]

Oh yeah. I guess I meant to ask you something. [ He pushes himself away from the counter towards Childermass, though it's only to pick up his mug, though he doesn't step back away again. ]

You knew about the Blue Rose and the Prince wanting the Ringmaster from the start, right? Why didn't you say anything sooner?

[ At the time, it hadn't seemed like something there was any point in getting angry over; they had two servants hiding in Childermass's shadow, worried about missing people, and all the rest. There's only that same light rancor in Lambert's voice and expression, a bitter humor at a joke he isn't sharing. ]

Edited 2017-12-01 06:26 (UTC)

[ And it still isn't, Childermass would argue, considering how it all played out. Still, he shrugs again and picks his own mug up, stepping a little to the side of the stove so he can lean against a part of the kitchen that isn't still way too hot. ]

I did and I don't think telling you earlier would have changed much. I would have still not found a way through the castle until the Hunt, we would have still lost all the wanderers. [ Because people would have still been stupid about it, information or not. ] Everyone else would have still been poisoned at breakfast. It's a miracle in itself that Syrlya could shake himself free enough to help in the end.

Maybe. Maybe not. [ Lambert says, with a shrug. His fingers curl around the mug, his claws tapping ceramic. He doesn't know if there's any use believing in alternate possibilities ]

All I know is I told you I was counting on you to tell me if you knew anything. [ His mouth twists, that strange humorless expression again. ] You had access to every resource I had, but you seriously didn't think that was worth sharing? 'Hey, I'm looking for something that's a lot of fucking magic, let me know if you run into anything like that.'

[ His voice rises at the end of that, and he ends up exhaling and putting his mug up to his lips, struggling to rein his temper back in before he continues, cranky: ]

I'm still pissed the Ringmaster told you and not the rest of us, but did she ever say you couldn't say anything? Anything?

[ Sorry, Childermass. Come bust in on Lambert without warning and you're apparently in for an earful. ]

She told me to use my best judgment.

[ That's what Childermass answers with after a moment to just watch Lambert struggling with his temper. A stark opposite of the magician, who's fallen back into his usual bored indifference in the face of his anger. If he wants an argument,
he'll find it one-sided. ]

And she told me because she knew it would be hidden and that we likely had to steal it. You learned everything I knew once I had something solid. [ Or someone, more like. Even without the bicorn, they would have had the rabbit. ] And considering one of your nightrunners pulled together an awful plan with that information, could be I should have been even pickier with who got to know.

Edited 2017-12-02 02:53 (UTC)

And she still got to the Prince's tower before you did. [ Lambert snaps back. It is a one-sided argument, and he knows it, but he isn't so much interested in blaming Childermass for it as he is ... something. He doesn't know. Trying to put words around a feeling that's been nagging at him, something that's at the heart of this frustration. ]

If she had more time and better resources, she could have done more. You only get to say it was awful because it didn't work. Besides, if we're talking about awful plans, aren't you going to make fun of 'turning into a dragon to distract the Prince' too? [ His hands curl tighter on the mug, resisting the urge to smash it over something, like preferably Childermass's stupid head, and his lips press together tightly for a few minutes before he turns away, eyes shutting as he brings up a hand to rub at his forehead. ]

I trusted you, dammit. [ He says, tiredly. He's too worn out to keep up yelling at Childermass. ] Guess I should start being pickier too.

Edited 2017-12-02 03:13 (UTC)

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