B1, Day 2 [public channel]

[whattaprick]

[ There are a lot of things people need to do right now: help the Prince's servants get resettled, get started on figuring out who can work on a cure for the petrification, deal with the trauma of dying in a hopefully healthy and non-self-destructive way, show the new people the ropes of what the Carnival has to work with.

Instead, in the morning of the second day since the Prince was defeated, anyone on the radio gets this: ]

So, I've been wondering.

[ The Nightrider's voice, for those who recognize it, has definitely been better. It's a low, hoarse rasp, and the pause at the end is not just for effect, but to actually catch his breath. ]

Just how old is everyone here, anyway? Here, I'll start. I'm ... pretty sure I'm almost sixty. [ A beat. ] ... Maybe.

[ Why did anyone let this man have his radio back again? ]

[ ooc; Lambert's flat on his back in the medical tent for this, feel free to bug him in person and threadjack each other at will. ]

Comments

[brightspot]

[It's curious to her, even if there are a few different voices speaking and having conversations, that it seems to be a different one answering her question, speaking for both herself and the man who first asked about ages.]

I guess you're right about that... From the sounds of it, ages or years might be... kind of different? Depending on where people are from.

[whattaprick]

Well, it is a magic carnival. You wouldn't expect it all to be the same, would you?

[ Lambert coughs a few times, before he manages to interject. ]

Don't recognize the voice. You new?

[brightspot]

[Five is considering that first question - which, hey, she never knew there even was such a thing as a magic carnival, so no expectations really existed - when the second one comes along and it's from the first voice again.]

I am, yeah. I'm Five. The Ringmaster rescued me from the Prince.

Hey-- [She continues suddenly, like she's trying to get it out before he can reply.] Are you okay to talk right now? Maybe you should rest...

[whattaprick]

He will, once he gets tired enough. But that's why I'm here to talk for him. [ The cheeky voice comes again. ]

I'm Celandine. The other one's Lambert, the Nightrider -- one of the supervisors around here, though he isn't doing much supervising right now. Too bad you had to sign up this way, but I suppose it's better than being stuck.

[brightspot]

You talk for him?

[Clearly that concept seems a little strange to Five, but it's not like it's the first thing she's encountered here that's seemed weird to her.]

Oh. I guess he was one of those to get hurt during all this... I hope he feels better soon!

Well, it is nice to be able to think for myself again? [She gives a laugh here that's sort of nervous. Being brainwashed had sucked.]

[whattaprick]

He can usually talk for himself. [ Celandine responds, the amusement rich in her voice. ]

You can think of me as his better half. I'm his soul, so that's close enough. It's complicated. [ She adds, because if Five is new to the Carnival, that bit's not going to make sense at all. ]

Generally, not being enchanted is always an improvement. Do you know where you've been assigned yet?

[brightspot]

His soul...?

[Yeah, that bit doesn't make sense to her. However, the "it's complicated" totally does, considering that's sort of her answer to a lot of things that could be asked of her, so she refrains from asking too many questions about it.]

You mean like my job? Yeah! Repair, and thievery. [There's a definite happy quality to her voice when she answers that. Apparently, she has no problem with either of those things.]