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

[periphrasing]

[Wow. But tell her how you REALLY see her, Strange. GUESS WHO'S OFFICIALLY OFFENDED?]

I am not too quick to action! I never go into a situation without at least coming up with the most basic of my patented peri-plans. And as for my volume, if I'm not loud, how is anyone supposed to know how energetic and dedicated I am to my work?!

[kingsroads]

Being needlessly defensive when someone says they thought you were younger is another sign of acting young.

[scientificist]

What is complaining to each and every person whose age you misjudged a sign of?

[kingsroads]

I'm hardly complaining, [ he complains. ] I am simply pointing out that I didn't expect this answer.

[scientificist]

Mm. Dreading that...40th birthday, Strange-- who else are you, unknowingly younger than here, I wonder...

[kingsroads]

Probably half the damn carnival at this rate. [ gems are dumb. Witchers are dumb. ]

And I'm not dreading any sort of birthday. I'm simply exasperated that none of the people here bother to look their age.

[scientificist]

It sounds sensible, to me.

Would you insist upon looking your age if you'd made the same gerontological... [ugh, fine, he'll put it in your context] ...magical discoveries? Or...perhaps that's it: if you're envious their scientists have made strides where you have not why not attempt your own research?

[His shitty grin is probably audible over the radio.] Or is your magic not capable of that? [He's still irritated about how vague Strange always is about explaining it properly, ok.]

[kingsroads]

Oh, magic is certainly capable of extending someone's age. After all, the Raven King ruled for hundreds of years and though he was raised in faerie he was still a human.

[ said like Herbert's got a clue who the Raven King is in the first place. ]

I simply don't want to look older or younger or live thousands of years past my prime.

[scientificist]

[Yep, there Strange goes again with his random unexplained bullshit. Honestly.]

And it, disturbs you when others do.

[kingsroads]

Well of course it does. Have you met Syrlya? He shouldn't be five!

[scientificist]

He is a different species, obviously the parameters of his maturation and what he should or should not look like are not the same.

[periphrasing]

[Peridot totally interrupts to laugh appreciatively here. Thanks, Herbert. Even if you're just butting in to get Strange's goat.]

[scientificist]

[You are higher ranked on his people list, Peridot. Because you're a scientist.]

[periphrasing]

Well how would you feel if people kept constantly mistaking you for some kind of equivalent of a human neophyte, just because you were short and precious and generally rather exuberant about things!?

[kingsroads]

'Precious?'

[periphrasing]

Yes. Precious. Or rare, or important, or adorable... whatever synonym you prefer, it doesn't matter.

[There's some weird gem speak going on here sorry buddy.]