Day 64, Public Channel

[whattaprick]

[ After the Ringmaster's finished kicking everyone out and the tent arrangements are more or less settled... ]

So, I'm up. [ Short and to the point. ] Heard people were yelling at my nightrunners. You wanna yell about it some more, you can come yell at me.

[ That's it, that's the post. ]

Comments

[atouts]

Knowing that someone you care for will come back doesn't seem to make killing them any easier, now does it?

[ Which is no doubt sore point for Lambert, considering how he couldn't do the same with Strange. ]

[whattaprick]

[ Lambert’s fingers freeze in Celandine’s fur. For a moment, neither witcher or polecat even breathe, but Celandine’s attention is squarely on the witcher. ]

Lambert— [ Her voice is small, and immediately interrupted by the sound of the witcher getting to his feet to leave. ]

[atouts]

[ Right, now he's done it. Lambert gets to his feet and Childermass isn't far behind. ]

Lambert, don't. You need to rest.

[whattaprick]

Whatever you’re looking for— [ Lambert says, breathing raggedly as he twists his fingers into Celandine’s fur — it has to hurt, but she doesn’t make a sound, golden eyes squeezing shut. ]

—whatever you want out of me— just say it.

[atouts]

I know you won't apologize for Ignatius but you should consider apologizing for forcing her hand the way you did.

[ There, that's it. Ignatius, Childermass couldn't care less about, but the Ringmaster is upset for plenty of reasons. ]

[whattaprick]

[ Forcing her hand, not giving the Ringmaster a choice ... Carly had said something similar, but even so, it’s still hard for Lambert to see it that way. His expression twists again. ]

Is that how you see it?

[ He’s shaking his head, taking an unsteady step or two back. All he knows right now is that he needs to get away from here before his mouth gets him in trouble again, before he says something else he can’t apologize for. Celandine’s shuddering in his arms, but she can’t stop Lambert, not like this, emotions running high and all the hurt and upset collapsing back into anger. ]

Maybe her hand needed to be forced! Was she ever going to tell us about the Queen without the Count? You think the Courts are going to wait nicely for her? Why— fuck! [ Celandine twists around in his hold, finally, sinking her teeth into his knuckle hard enough to draw blood. ]

[atouts]

[ Childermass almost moves towards them, but he stops himself short of doing so. Lambert won't appreciate help steadying himself, nor will Celandine be too inclined to let someone other than her actual person touch her right now, or so he must assume.

It means he's left to stand back helplessly, hands up, but going nowhere. ]

We'll never know. [ Chances are she may not have, but that's a mystery now. ] And that's something she must make amends for on her own part but it doesn't absolve you of your own trespasses.

[whattaprick]

[ It’ll take Lambert a few moments to respond, panting for breath, hardly able to hear Childermass over the roar of blood in his own head. Celandine is staring him down, refusing to let go, but the shock of pain is grounding, even almost calming. The sort of punishment he keeps expecting, but hasn’t gotten. ]

Apologies are useless. [ Is what he says, finally, voice calmer than before. ] They don’t fix anything. They don’t change anything.

[ He looks up, and Celandine disengages, her teeth and the fur around her mouth stained red as the blood begins to drip from Lambert’s hand. ]

I’ll fight on her orders. I’ll die on her orders. I’ll do better. If that’s not good enough for her... [ Lambert shakes his head, jerkily, but he doesn’t finish, looking away instead. ]

[atouts]

[ What else can he say to that? If he's already made up his mind on it, it's pointless to push the point. Worse would be using their relationship as leverage and so, while it does cross his mind, it's also immediately dismissed. Childermass isn't so manipulative as to fall to that.

In the end, that just means he has to sigh and lower his hands, watching Lambert for a second or two longer before his attention dips down to the polecat and the bleeding knuckle. ]

Then let us hope that will be enough.

[ He goes on to pull a handkerchief — shabby and mostly grey from use at this point — from his pocket, moving to step closer to the witcher and offer it in lieu of anything better suited for sopping up blood. He won't immediately do that himself, though, looking back up again to see if either Lambert or Celandine will even let him close enough to. ]

[whattaprick]

[ Forcing the issue with Lambert is rarely productive. Later, maybe, with time to calm down, a chance to prove himself in ways that don’t require flinging himself at the Ringmaster’s mercy in a display that he imagines would certainly invite scorn rather than respect, he’ll come around.

For now, it’s too soon. But both Lambert and Celandine look at Childermass, eyes half-lidded, before Lambert sullenly extends his injured hand, the other still cradling Celandine to his chest. ]