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

[whattaprick]

Seems like a common affliction around here.

[atouts]

Not sure I would call that a bad thing.

[whattaprick]

Not at all.

Still, it would be nice not to have to test that for a while...

[ Her voice trails off on a yawn. ]

[atouts]

Careful about saying that. I'm beginning to think we keep cursing ourselves...

[ Or the carnival is just a huge, unending string of disasters. Whichever. ]

Still, there should be time before the next mess we stumble into for you to get some rest. It sounds like you still need some.

[whattaprick]

We know. Things never go our way, so we're used to that.

We've spent so much time asleep already, though! There wasn't much else to do, stuck in a wall.

i almost forgot this was a thing that happened

[atouts]

[ Unfortunately, he'll never get a chance to tell them to go back to sleep regardless or even, perhaps, suggest something less energy-draining than questioning the entire carnival. Why might that be? Well, probably because Childermass is now otherwise occupied with hunting one great big idiot down, without even a 'farewell' or a 'talk to you later'.

Sorry, folks, he has a Strange to confiscate a radio from. ]