PUBLIC CHANNEL - DAY 157

[whattaprick]

Nightrider Lambert here. In case you haven't heard by now: the things on Kerner Island eat settled daemons. So find somewhere else to take a daytrip. If you go anyway, do me a favor and keep your radio on you. That way we can all hear what it sounds like when a soul gets eaten.

[ He's about to leave it on that cheerfully sarcastic note, but then the faint sound of a female voice chimes in, scolding. For those who've met her, they'll recognize it as Lambert's daemon, the golden-eyed polecat that wears a hawk's shape outside the carnival. ]

Lambert! You didn't have to say it like that!

[ It doesn't seem to shame him one bit, though, since Lambert's going to keep right on talking: ]

For those of you whose daemon hasn't settled yet, that doesn't mean you get to be an idiot about going out there. Slipping and breaking your neck would be a stupid way to die. That said, if you're interested in doing some nightrunner work--

Come find us! [ The daemon interrupts again, louder this time, and there's a brief sound of a scuffle before her voice finally comes through loud and clear. Now it's Lambert who sounds more distant (and distinctly annoyed), though she talks right over him. ] We've got a map and other things you can use!

[ ooc: Lambert and his daemon will both be replying to his post (and probably fighting over the radio button, honestly). For ease of clarity, her responses will be in italics! ]

Comments

[hippocarnival]

['Cuter than Lambert' is such a low bar that Yuya doesn't contest that he hasn't even seen what his daemon looks like--she's probably right.]

I didn't say I was on anyone's side!

... But we're a little bit on her side. [It's his daemon that snickers this time. It's not really a problem for you if she has a name, right?

[whattaprick]

It's not like I haven't tried.

Longrat, Butterball, and Harpy don't count as names, Lambert.

Hey, I suggested more than that!

You're not naming me after things you make booze out of, either!

[ Sorry, Yuya, these two are just going to keep devolving into a farce... ]

[hippocarnival]

Those are really bad names... [What even is a longrat, really. A ferret?]

What kind of animal did you settle as?

[whattaprick]

Hey, beauty is in the ear of the beholder.

That's why I'm not letting him name me. [ The eye roll is practically audible. ] We're not entirely sure what I am. Some kind of polecat or ferret, but the coat's a little strange ... maybe because he let himself get possessed.

[hippocarnival]

Oh, by the Earth Spirit, right? You think it changed your soul?

[That's an intense possession.] Koemi's kind of weird for an otter, too... her fur's kind of gold?

[A pause. Now that he thinks about it...] They must be reflecting what our soul looks like, right? Now that I think about it, she's the same color as the mark on my chest.

[whattaprick]

[ There's quiet from Lambert's end of the radio, too, like both of them are mulling over that idea. Even though they were the ones to suggest it in the first place, it's not like they'd thought of it in those terms. The idea of a soul being injured is one thing. Being changed ... ]

We don't feel any different. [ There's a touch of defensiveness in the daemon's voice, not entirely unlike Lambert's own scowling whenever things don't quite go the way he expects... but it's something to ask the Ringmaster about. ]

What mark on your chest? [ What's a great way to change the topic of conversation, ask invasive questions about someone else instead! ]

[hippocarnival]

[Oh, he didn't mention that last time, right..]

Something showed up right where the sword went through me. I just assumed that caused it... it's gold, too.

I don't think it changed me, either. So maybe it's just normal for you?

[whattaprick]

Probably. It's not like I can usually see my soul.

[ Ha ha ha see yeah he can joke about this. This is fine. Everything is fine. ]

She isn't hurt, is she? [ Lambert's daemon, in this instance, sounds a little more timid than Lambert himself. ] A sword going through your soul seems ... like it would leave a mark.

[hippocarnival]

Uh--well, it did. [A very deep mark. Something taps the radio, probably Koemi's paw.] I'm fine! It's all healed up, it doesn't hurt anymore.

I don't think it messed anything up? [Then again, would he really be able to tell? He sure couldn't last time his soul was hideously maimed.]