[Public Channel | Day 143]

[hippocarnival]

[ The radio comes on to the sound of creaking wood and a familiar voice that is, for once, not sounding all that agitated, though it’s a little distant. ]

“--just burn us out of this.”

“Then you’re just going to burn us with it!” [Yuya’s tone, comparatively, sounds snappish.] “Don’t--don’t do anything, I’m going to get us help--”

[The radio clicks off. And then immediately clicks back on.] “Hello?”

[The anger’s been smoothed out of his voice, and instead Yuya is sounding fairly composed.] “Is there anyone available right now who doesn’t mind coming to the Summerlands? We’re, uh--we’re stuck.”

“In a tree.” [ Lambert contributes helpfully. That’s not super specific or anything, and that’s is why burning things would help! There’s another creak of wood, something shifting and shuddering, and his tone doesn’t change a jot as he continues. ] “Which may or may not be trying to hug us to death.”

[Yuya is just going to ignore Lambert’s fatalism.] “We don’t really know where we are, but we were drifting… east of the city? Do these things have GPS?” [Does half the carnival even know what GPS is?]

“We’re going to get out of the tree!” [He pipes up confidently, despite it.] “But help would be appreciated.”


((Red = Yuya, Green = Lambert. Replies are separate, threadjacking is free and wild. These boys are dumb.))

Comments

[anti_nonsense]

[There's a sigh.]

... Seriously?

[whattaprick]

Seriously.

[ It doesn't matter which part she's even asking about, it's just. All of it. ]

[hippocarnival]

I wouldn't make this up. [What do you take him for, Rita.]

[otoko]

[Far in the distance, someone is shouting UNFORGIVABLEEEEE!!!

But he knows better than to do that into a radio (YUUYA YOU WILL BE WHY HE STAYS ANOTHER YEAR DAMMIT), so.]

W-WHAT?!

HOW?!

[whattaprick]

Does it matter?

[hippocarnival]

Our air balloon crashed. [Because they can't navigate for shit.] But it was a lot of fun while it lasted!

[puddingemote]

Can't you just climb down?

[whattaprick]

That's what I said, but it's about a twenty-foot drop and this is a pretty clingy tree.

[hippocarnival]

We would! Except the tree started wrapping its branches around us, like it's alive, and now we're trapped.

[espigeon]

Well. I can fly, I'm fast, I can carry people, but I'm not sure I can make an affectionate tree let go.

[hippocarnival]

Maybe if someone else can, you can work together! I... don't want to try burning it.

[That just sounds really unsafe.]

[whattaprick]

I think we can figure something out.

[ BURN, BURN, BURN ]

Finding us in the first place might be tricky, though. Not quite sure where we landed...

[wild_magic]

My brother can talk to trees, maybe he could help?

[hippocarnival]

Can he convince the tree to let us go? [If he can, they just might have a solution! Assuming anyone can even find where they are in the first place.]

[whattaprick]

[ This really is turning into quite the rescue party, isn't it ... he's still largely in favor of burning a hold through the wood, and jumping through, so there's a notable lack of enthusiasm in his voice when he replies. ]

Sure. Worth a shot.

[stillwinningthehardway]

You actually got stuck in a tree. Like spukamas. Terrible.

[whattaprick]

What's a spu... spukamas?

[hippocarnival]

We didn't know the tree was alive! [Which would have been a moot point if either of them knew how to steer an air balloon. Sadly, they do not.]

[atouts]

Really? A tree?

[ Extreme judgment going on over here, extreme. ]

[hippocarnival]

It's not a normal tree! [This is his excuse.]

[whattaprick]

[ Lambert huffs. ]

How to identify trees that might reach up and grab you isn't something we covered in witcher training. Big oversight.

[sunflowerfields]

Have you tried asking the tree to let you down? Nicely?

[hippocarnival]

I don't really speak tree. Tickling doesn't work either.

[kingsroads]

[ who's ready for so much teasing ]

Oh come now, surely the witcher who's faced down griffins, vampires, and all other sorts of monsters can find his way out of a simple tree!

[hippocarnival]

[There's a strangled sound from Yuya at that. The last thing he wants is Lambert getting baited into burning the tree down anyway, because that's terrifying.] You're not helping!

[periphrasing]

...I honestly have no words for this.

[You idiots.]

[hippocarnival]

Everyone else already had something to say anyway.

[espigeon]

[It takes maybe twenty minutes before Julien's way up overhead. Way, way up, really; he looks very small up against cloud cover. More height means all the easier to spot the balloon, after all. It's big and colorful, not something he could miss with bird eyes.

He flies a little lower and does a lot of swooping and circling with his tail fanned, so Lauren should see that he's found them. Gon likely won't, but Gon's not tracking from the air anyway. If they're not too close he may go after them, but first things first. It's time to start spiralling lower, shedding speed without just having to dive. Julien has to compensate for some of the secondaries on one wing being shorter and still half encased in ugly blue sheaths, he tends to turn in that direction if not correcting constantly.

His plan was to land on the tree in question, but it moves as he gets within skimming distance. A dozen eyes appear on his underside to see that.]

Whoah! Okay! [Instead Julien swerves and puts down on the ground somewhere out of reach, a blue-and-white bird the size of a small horse.] Y'all all right up there? A young lady insisted I bring you water!

[whattaprick]

[ The tree's big -- big enough to support the weight of a reasonably sized hot air balloon basket with two people inside. The deflated, colorful canvas is tangled up in the upper part of the tree. It's still settling from its attempt to swat Julien out of the air, bristling visibly and somehow (for a tree) mutinously.

Around the basket itself, several branches appear to have warped around it the way fingers might curl around a ball in the palm of a hand. There's enough space to see through (and in Yuya's case, slip out) but it's a fair distance to the ground and there aren't any more lower branches to grasp.

Inside the basket, Lambert -- who is sadly much less pocket-sized -- cocks his head when he hears the voice coming from outside and below, instead of his radio. ]

Sounds like the cavalry's here. [ And then, louder for the benefit of those outside: ] About time!