IC CONTACT for lostcarnival

[whattaprick]

✆CHANNEL FREQUENCY: 843.77425 (personal);
DESCRIPTION: Half the time he forgets this thing even exists, or how to turn it on and off.

✉MAIL BOX LOCATION: Next to trailer steps.
DESCRIPTION: The concept of a mailbox is rather foreign to Lambert, who's not exactly what you'd call big on personal correspondence. But there's a wooden crate you can probably drop shit into ???

BUG LAMBERT TO MAKE YOU SHIT: Given time and the right ingredients (which he'll usually ask people to provide) he can make potions (with potential side effects), oils, and bombs. You can bother him more about that in person.

Comments

[criticallyfucked]

[Foster hesitates, briefly confused. That isn't where he thought this was going--he had a dozen or more possibilities, laid out and--that wasn't one of them.

Lambert is asking him to perform a service that would render Foster himself obsolete in this equation. Not that he wasn't already--Lambert has the book, after all. He's just--well. Accessory.

Still, that's pretty bold. If practical. So he's being eliminated entirely, is he?]]

I.... can do that.

[It comes out careful. Wary.]

[whattaprick]

You said you wanted to be useful. [ Lambert reminds him. He doesn't miss the hesitation, though he doesn't know the reason for it. That would require understanding Foster's thought process in the first place. ]

Unless you'd rather have Strange or Syrlya do it.

[ The only reason he's not foisting this job on Strange to start with is because Strange would probably find a way to make any summary longer. And poetic besides. But it's also practical -- if Foster's had so much time with the book already, it's faster to let him do it. ]

[criticallyfucked]

Used, not useful.

[Useful, like he's a person--

But threatening to take that away--that short use, that pitiful scraping, that brief extension of his purpose--

He jerks his head up suddenly; his willingness challenged, any reluctance evaporates--replaced by fervor, desperation.]

Don't let Strange touch it!!

[Lambert is taking the book anyway, it doesn't matter what Foster knows or has; it's not about him. He has to help--he has to serve, or the consequences--the consequences, eventually Lambert will get it wrong, or Strange will do something, and it'll be on him--]

you know what helps... it helps to hit enter

[whattaprick]

[ Foster's being pedantic, Lambert would point out, but the sudden vehemence of the man's response to the mere suggestion of Strange being involved? That's interesting.

Too bad he doesn't have time to get into that right now. They've got a probably-ill-fated rescue mission to attempt in less than twenty-four hours. So instead, he smirks, shoving the book back at Foster. ]

Then you'd better get to it. It's not going to summarize itself.

[ And he cocks his head, thinking. Foster hadn't seemed to react violently to Syrlya, so-- ]

Get Syrlya to look it over when you're finished. You said you've worked with him before, so that shouldn't be a problem, right?

[criticallyfucked]

[Foster almost doesn't receive the book with his paws at all, because he's too busy being stunned that Lambert returned it to him.

He takes it quickly, though--snatches it, really.

Syr. Right.

He doesn't say anything, just takes his book and canters off, sober-faced and apparently filled with a sense of purpose.]