kore_logs | [open] apples and quinces, lemons and oranges

Entry tags:

[open] apples and quinces, lemons and oranges

Who: Ned, open to all
What: Here be species-swap logs involving Ned the unlikely fertility god.
Where: Anywhere (preferably outdoors).
When: Duration of the event (58 - 61); put date in header, please.
Warnings: Blood, kidnapping, creepiness and general Ned-terrorizing? [will add more as necessary]

Ned wanders the town barefoot, leaving a path of fruit and flowers and vegetation behind him. There are daffodils and bluebells, hyacinths and crocuses, irises of all colors, primroses and poppies and periwinkle in profusion. When he stops to sit quietly under a tree, by the edge of the woods, the vines spread out from his body like paint creeping through water. They slowly wind their way up the trees, or else sprawl across the ground, swelling with strawberries and blackberries, grapes and kiwis, passionfuit and cherries.

He doesn't understand why it is happening, but from the sound of the messages over the communicator, everyone has been going through some strange changes. As far as Ned's concerned, being some kind of plant conjurer is better than some options.

Since he can't think of much else to do with his time, Ned lounges in the dappled shade and makes bouquets. All he needs to do is rake his hands through the soil and a few minutes later, up come the snapdragons, up come the cala lilies. He finds that, if he focuses on a particular kind of flower as he does it, sometimes it is mixed amongst the others. As he sits the hydrangeas are bubbling up around him, shielding him from view.

Ned isn't worried about resting in the woods, despite all the dire warnings he's heard in his short time here. He is at the very edge, just in the shade of the first few trees; the lions and tigers and bears can't possibly have any objections. So he lounges in his cozy bower, hazy, half-awake (he hadn't exactly slept well, the previous night), weaving crowns of camellias and garlands of gladiolus.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, that escalated quickly.

Newly-discovered healing powers aside, Ned really really doesn't like this. He doesn't trust Charlie's intentions, on any number of levels. Doesn't really trust Meyer, either, when it comes down to it. He's starting to regret not heading back to the house for the night. Horrifying nightmares were horrifying, sure, but at least they didn't involve him getting eaten alive. Which is what he's pretty sure is going to happen, just now. Ned might be generous and like feeding people, but this is taking it way too far.

Unfortunately, Charlie seems to have acquired the super-strength that Meyer lacks, and he doesn't dare struggle. Not when Charlie is effortlessly hauling him by the throat, grip so tight that Ned can only just breathe. He has a feeling that Charlie could snap his neck in a second without even trying, and it sends a cold chill down his spine. Could he even heal from that? A broken neck is more than a little puncture wound. Who knows how extensive his powers might be? So, whole body shaking with fear, he doesn't struggle, doesn't hit Charlie or scratch him or any of the million things his instincts are screaming at him to try. What he does try is the same tactic he used on Meyer: perhaps it will be effective a second time.

"W-wait, listen," Ned's voice, constricted along with his air-flow, is high and desperate, "you d-don't want to do this! Try to... try t-to think... "

And Meyer's practically useless, only able to follow along behind Charlie, trying desperately not to stumble or trip. The drunken feeling is wearing off slowly, but he's still not particularly coordinated. Why hadn't he gotten super strength, or super speed, or any of the other useful things vampires were sometimes said to have? Why couldn't he pry Charlie away from Ned -- and what was Charlie's fascination with Ned, anyway?

There's only one thing he knows how to do in a situation like this, and that's negotiate. It seems that Ned has the same idea, but he's not sure Ned's negotiations will be effective. Charlie is obviously singleminded in his focus on dragging Ned home, and doing... whatever it is he wants to do to him. Meyer doesn't want to think about that. It doesn't look as though it'll turn out well.

He reaches out a hand to Charlie's shoulder, knowing that he has to be careful. He'd already injured Ned once today; he doesn't need Charlie killing him. "Charlie," he manages, "Charlie, think about it. You can... you can take him home. You can take him home. Just don't hurt him, okay? You're holding him too tightly. C'mon. Let's go home."

He shoots Ned a desperate look, still unsteady on his feet. He hates this, he hates feeling powerless, and he hates whatever Charlie's become. He knows that if he tries to get in between the two of them physically, though, Charlie will simply shove him aside.

"I ain't hurting him," he says sharply, turning to face Meyer. Except maybe just now he notices how white Ned's face is. It's strange, for being so focused on him, he keeps forgetting that Ned isn't just another shiny thing to be dragged home and put on top of his pile.

He loosens the grip on Ned's neck, just a little, but gets his arm in a half-nelson instead. "I don't reckon I need your permission, Meyer." He lets out another billow of smoke through his nose, by Ned may notice that the temperature of his hand is cooling down slightly. Still hot, but not outside the realm of human possibility.

"Yeah, we're going home. That's what I came out here for in the first place. Make sure you weren't eating anyone." And if he picked up something shiny and new for his stash at the same time, hey bonus. He lets go of Ned's neck at last, but hands still firm on his arms as he gives him another shove to keep walking.

Edited 2013-04-08 00:59 (UTC)

"D-does that mean you're not going to eat me?" Ned asks, half-hopeful. Maybe he has the wrong impression. Maybe Charlie is just bringing both of them back for, oh, he doesn't know, a good scolding. Maybe this has nothing to do with Ned, maybe he just wants to make Meyer feel bad for having fed on him. As vehement as he was earlier that Charlie was wrong to dislike that Meyer had been turned into a vampire against his will, he thinks he likes that scenario a lot better than some of the options that had been running through his imagination.

But no, who is he kidding? There's no way that's all this is. That wouldn't explain the weird, intensely creepy smelling. Wouldn't explain the odd, jealous possessiveness. Ned remembers, incongruously, what Meyer had said about Charlie stealing shiny things and stashing them away. Is he registering as a shiny thing, somehow? And why the hell is Charlie breathing smoke?

He's glad to be able to breathe again, even if it does hurt having his arm wrenched behind his back like that. Ned turns to look at Meyer, and right now, he doesn't have any pity for his stumbling, his helplessness, his look of ineffective apology. Ned mouths 'HELP ME' at him. Why wasn't he even trying?

Ned knows why, of course. Their spat aside, Charlie is his friend, his business partner, someone he's known his whole life. Ned is just some hapless, unfortunately tasty guy he's had a couple of conversations with. Maybe he's planning on having another little meal, when they get to where they are going.

Just when Ned thinks things can't possibly get worse, he realizes that, even though Charlie let go of his neck, it's starting to get hard to breathe. He absolutely does not have the time for a panic attack right now, he thinks, but his body has plans of its own. He keeps walking, hanging his head and trying to gasp for air as quietly as he can. At one point, his knees are knocking so badly that they give out, and he stumbles, nearly falls, catches himself.

Edited 2013-04-08 01:16 (UTC)

Meyer's very quickly becoming more and more sober as they move towards the house. He knows he can't attack Charlie, can't get him to let go of Ned, but maybe once they get inside, he can distract Charlie long enough to get Ned free. If Charlie wants to eat Ned -- he wouldn't have believed it, a couple minutes ago, but apparently anything's possible, and that look he'd given Ned, plus the sniffing, that had signaled that he thought Ned looked pretty tasty.

The sad thing was, Meyer agreed. Ned had been pretty tasty. That didn't mean he thought Charlie should actually eat the guy, though. He, too, remembers the fact that Charlie seemed obsessed with his watch, that he'd had to have it, that after he'd taken it, he'd disappeared into the backyard with it. Maybe Charlie thinks Ned is some kind of prize, too.

"Charlie," he says, his voice stronger this time, not slurring. "He's scared. You're scaring him." This time, he even reaches out a hand to put on Charlie's shoulder, not hard, not threatening, just very cold hand with a gentle touch. "We need to talk about this. Think about this. Let's just get him back to the house, and then we'll have a conversation, okay?"

At this point, he just wants to buy Ned some time. He hopes his glance over at Ned indicates that. He wants to help him. He's trying. But it's going to take some finesse, and right now, he's still trying to remember how to get that finesse back.

"Stay out of this, Meyer! You had your fun, and now you're not gonna lt me have mine, is that it?" They've known each other long enough that Charlie can tell when Meyer is trying to calm him down, trying to talk him out of something. And this time it just makes his blood boil more. He has a very simple goal here - he just needs to get Ned home and put him with his other things and he doesn't think that requires discussion. His skin burns hot again, definitely enough for Meyer to feel on his too-cold skin.

He turns to face Ned again, sees the way he's gasping for air and barely staying on his feet. Well, he's not trying to hurt him, and it's not his fault if the guy isn't co-operating to being taken home. He isn't burning as brightly now, through all the fear, but the strong, un-ignorable knowledge that everything will be fine if he just gets him home is too hard to ignore.

The house is in sight now, and he gives Ned another push towards it.

Through the haze of his panic Ned, glances back, looking around for any signs of help. Where is everyone? Apparently they have the sense not to be out at this hour. He notices that, of all things, the plants his bare feet are leaving behind have changed. There is aconite and hemlock, nightshade and pokeroot, some very sinister looking mushrooms, tangles of spike-leaved little shrubs and knots of vines with bright red thorns.

He doesn't have time to dwell on the apparent effect his emotions have on his power, however. Not when Charlie is talking about having his fun with Ned, and his stomach is twisting itself into knots with a fear so strong it makes him nauseous. As he stumbles into the house he wonders if this is another nightmare, screws his eyes shut and wills himself to wake up. Any second now he will wake up.

But he doesn't.

"Had my fun? You think it was fun?"

Okay, so maybe there was a part of it that was kind of... well, he wouldn't use the word fun, exactly, but exhilarating. Intoxicating, certainly. Regardless, he doesn't like the idea of the kind of fun Charlie has in mind, especially not when Charlie's skin burns hot under his touch. He moves his hand away from Charlie's shoulder, knowing he's pushing his luck, knowing he has to stay calm enough to help all of them -- to help Ned get out of this mess unharmed, to help himself make up for what he did to Ned in the first place, and to help Charlie avoid doing something he'll regret later.

As they go into the house, he tries to think. If only he had a goddamned cigarette, he'd be thinking a lot more clearly now. "What's your plan? What're you gonna do with him?"

If he can find out what Charlie wants to do, what his goal is, maybe he can talk him into something else.

Ideally, he'd like to keep Ned with his treasure. All the nice things together. But it's cold outside now and he wants to be able to keep an eye on him. So he keeps forcing Ned forward into the spare bedroom. There's a hot-water radiator in there that will do nicely. And then maybe he can bring some on his gold inside and put it next to him.

"Sit down," he says, giving Ned a shove so that he's leaning against the radiator. "The plan is I need some rope. I knows we got some in the closet." He hasn't really thought about much of a plan beyond that. He doesn't think there really is one. It's the same with the gold - he doesn't want to do anything with any of it. Just make sure it's his.

He switches to Yiddish for the first time, somehow it was always a signal of theirs. "I'm not gonna eat him. Are you helping or not?"

He doesn't know whether he can trust Charlie or not, about not eating Ned, but why else would he have switched languages? If he can help tie Ned up, then maybe he can also figure out a way to get him out of here. "I'll help," he replies, also in Yiddish, "But you can't hurt him. And we need to talk.."

They're going to have to talk whether or not they tie Ned up, but Meyer goes to the closet to get the length of rope out, and grudgingly brings it back to Charlie. "You want me to do it? He's scared of you. This'll just make it worse."

And if he's the one doing the tying up, then maybe he can make the ropes loose enough that Ned can escape. Maybe. Charlie might notice that.

"No. I'll do it," he takes the rope from Meyer's hands, and kneeling down he starts binding Ned's wrists to the radiator. It's not that he doesn't trust Meyer, although deep down he does suspect he's up to something, but it doesn't feel right to let Meyer tie him up when Ned is his.

Especially like this, bound and waiting for him. He can't help but let his hands linger on the bits of exposed skin around Ned's wrists, oddly gentle now after all the roughness earlier. All the anger and anxiety he was feeling is dying down into a calm peacefulness. Maybe later he'll get that urge again, to collect and bring back, but for now he'd love nothing more than to get out his gold and curl up on his bed and look at everything, perfectly content.

Once Ned's all tied up, he sits back on his haunches to admire his handiwork, as a few contented curls of smoke snake from his nose.

"Stay here with him. I gotta get the rest of my stuff." Keeping it all so far away suddenly seems like a bad idea, but how did he know he would find something as good as this? He gives Meyer and warning glance, and heads out of the room towards the back door.

Edited 2013-04-08 02:35 (UTC)

The rest of his stuff? What stuff? Meyer doesn't even bother to ask the question. This whole thing has become a mess beyond his wildest imaginings, and he just wants Charlie to leave the room for a moment so he can speak to Ned, who still looks terrified. Being tied to the radiator probably doesn't help that terror anyway.

He nods in response to Charlie's statement, and as soon as he leaves the room, he's crouching down beside Ned, looking at him intently. He's thankful, at least, that Ned isn't badly injured, and that he doesn't seem to have any kind of bloodlust anymore. His sobriety seems to have returned, too, and he's no longer shaky.

"He's not going to eat you."

That seemed like the most important thing to say, the most salient fact. "I don't know why he's doing this, or what he thinks he's going to gain from it, but he told me he's not going to eat you. I'm going to find a way to get you out of here, okay? You're might just have to sit tight for a little while."

Ned sits with his knees tucked as close to his chest as he can get them, forehead resting between them, bare feet curled together with fear. He focuses on breathing, tries to imagine that he is anywhere but here. He keeps his eyes closed and thinks of his apartment back home, with Digby curled on the couch next to him. He thinks of his kitchen, all the ingredients set out, just waiting to come together. He thinks his way through two pie recipes, but it's not doing any good. He can still hear the two of them talking, sometimes in a language he doesn't understand. He glances up for a second, just enough to see Meyer getting the rope, and that's when he knows he's been betrayed. He stares down at the floor, at the tendrils of poison ivy that are just starting to poke up between the floorboards.

He shuts his eyes again when Charlie draws close, tying his wrists tightly. Ned flinches away from his touch, though it isn't as if there's anywhere to go. Charlie's fingers are burning hot, and that is when he starts praying. He doesn't stop, even when Charlie leaves to fetch his torture instruments or whatever the hell it is. He only stops when Meyer starts speaking to him in that hushed voice, offering him hollow reassurances that he's sure are lies. Even if it's true that he's not going to eat him, Ned's pretty sure that whatever he has on the agenda, he's not gonna like it.

"Don't you fucking tell me to sit tight!" Ned spits, looking up suddenly, eyes narrowed with anger that's bordering on hate. He knows he shouldn't provoke him, but he can't help it. This is all Meyer's fault. He'd been just fine until he'd stumbled by and attacked Ned and brought him to the attention of his even more psychotic friend. He wrenches his against the rope, but it is far too tight for him to get lose. Then the anger is gone as quickly as it came, and Ned pleads, "Just untie me. I'll go out a window. I'll hide, I'll..."

He understands Ned's anger. He'd be angry too, if he got kidnapped. He'd be furious and he'd be scared, and he knew that because he'd been kidnapped before. Admittedly, he hadn't let any of those emotions show, but why shouldn't Ned? This wasn't New York, this wasn't some kind of gang-related altercation, it was a tiny town where very strange things were happening, and nobody quite understood why.

All the same, he doesn't like the position he's been put in, either. Charlie is his best friend, his business partner, and doesn't like to have to second guess him. He doesn't know Ned, not really, but he knows that what's happening here is bizarre. He can't just let him go -- that would make things with Charlie far worse.

"I need you to appreciate, Ned, what a tenuous position I'm in here. I want to let you go, I really do..." If he's not telling the truth, his poker face is pretty damn good; he looks genuine, honest, deeply concerned. "I can't just let you go. In a small town like this, Charlie'd track you down again in a second. We need to go about this in a different way."

He begins to loosen one of the ropes slightly, not enough that Charlie will notice it, but enough to perhaps provide some slight comfort to Ned. "I understand that you're angry. I'd be angry, too. I am angry, at everything that's going on here. I'm going to get you out of this, but you need to listen to me -- I've been in situations like this before, okay? I've been where you are."

That, at least, wasn't untrue. "And I know that Charlie's highly distractible. I'll talk him out of... whatever he has in mind."

Ned really doesn't have it in him at the moment to wonder why the hell Meyer has been in situations like this before. His logic does have some effect at cutting through the haze of panic that is Ned's mind at the moment. He trusts that Meyer is right, that Charlie has the skills necessary to find him wherever he hid. Ned thinks that he could go to Erik and Charles, or else River, that they could protect him, but who even knows if that's true? What if this whole transformation has made them into something even more horrible than Charlie, if such a thing is possible?

"Okay," Ned says, nodding fervently, and it's clear from the tightness of words that he's only barely fending off tears. He's absolutely not going to cry, he tells himself. He doesn't really have any other options at this point, so he decides to put his hope in Meyer, that he knows what he's doing, that he's telling the truth, that he'll make it alright. "Okay. I trust you." And then, because he really doesn't trust him, Ned adds, "If do you get me out I'll let you feed on me. As much as you like, until you turn back, as long as it doesn't kill me. Just please don't let him hurt me."

Meyer looks almost disgusted by Ned's offer, or at least vaguely queasy. "I don't want to feed on you. I don't want to feed on anyone. I want everyone to get back to how they were before all of this started. This wouldn't have happened if we weren't..."

But that's problematic, too, because he doesn't want to get angry and lose his cool. He needs to stay calm, so that Ned stays calm, so that he can get him out of this situation. And he needs to talk to Charlie, as soon as possible, to talk him out of doing something awful to Ned or to talk him into letting Ned go, either way. What use do they have for kidnapping someone?

"I'm not going to let him hurt you."

His tone is firm there. He can stop Charlie from doing something stupid. Or at least, he could when Charlie was fully human.

"What are you doin', Meyer?"

Charlie is back in the doorway, a large canvas bag in one hand that is jingling softly. He was nervous about leaving Ned with Meyer, after all Meyer ate him once before who's to say he wouldn't try to finish him off? And he isn't any good to him dead.

He comes in closer, winds one hand around the back of Meyer's neck. His fingers are burning, and he blows out a plume of smoke into Meyer's face.

"I really wanna trust you rights now, Meyer. But I ain't letting you take anything of mine. Got it?" He gives him a warning shake, and then lets go. After all, the contents of his bag are far more important.

He reaches in and starts laying out all his possessions in a loose semi-circle around Ned. It's a random assortment of gold and silver and jewels, many of them unfamiliar. Charlie's obviously been busy today. A few more watches, some silverwear, a few gold rings, two tie stick pins. It's not very much yet, but he's working on it. Besides, he found such a great addition to his hoard today that he doesn't mind at all that it's relatively small. He has plenty of time to work on it.

Once it's laid out, he sits back on his haunches again to inspect it all.

Ned tries to keep calm, to remember Meyer's promise when Charlie comes back, but it's a little difficult. The breathing smoke, though, what's that about? Maybe, Ned thinks, if he can come up with some idea of what Charlie has turned into, he'll know how to talk to him, how to talk him down, or at the very least, how not to piss him off any more than he already is.

So, breathing smoke. Some kind of fire spirit or creature, something to do with fire? What other clues does he have? Charlie apparently doesn't have quite this much of a temper most of the time, according to what Meyer'd said, or such a zeal for kidnapping hapless strangers. Ned watches him pouring out the sack, sees him lovingly arranging the items. They aren't just shiny things - they are expensive ones. Gems and precious metals, in various guises. A hoard. The way he said anything of mine - that greediness was the key, wasn't it? He doesn't even see Ned as a person, just a thing for his collection.

Ned glances up at Charlie fearfully, staying very still, not wanting to attract his attention any more than he has to. Something about the way he is sitting there, making sure everything is present and correct, looming over all of it with a strange intensity, makes Ned think of storybooks, of dragons in caves resting on mountains of gold coins. But Charlie is a human being, or at least, mostly human shaped. He couldn't possibly be-

But then, what is and isn't possible, in the place right now? Perhaps he's some kind of hybrid, or else possessed by a dragon. Apparently possession by demons was possible, so why not possession by something else.

Hesitant, unsure whether he should go for flattery or continued silence, Ned says shakily, "That's quite an impressive collection, Charlie."

Charlie's fingers on the back of his neck burn like hell, but he doesn't wrench himself out of Charlie's grip. Better to stay calm, to assess the situation, to find out just what Charlie left the room for. He watches Charlie take the possessions out of the bag -- ah, there's where his watch ended up, and come to think of it, that looks like his tie pin, too -- and place them around Ned, frowning suspiciously.

"Yeah, Charlie, that's a great collection you've got there."

He manages to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice, but it's difficult. Sure, he gets that Charlie's been collecting shiny things, expensive things, but why Ned? Maybe he can ask. Maybe it's as simple as that. Unless, of course, Charlie doesn't understand why he's doing it himself.

"You want to explain to me why you needed to have Ned as part of your collection?"

If you learn why someone's doing something, sometimes you can talk them out of it. That's his theory, at least. He doesn't relish the idea of physically fighting Charlie, not now when Charlie can so easily burn him.

"I dunno, I just need to, okay?" Come on, you're cramping his sorting groove, here. He'd been practically preening at the compliments in the first place.

It is a very nice collection. Small, but he's working on it. He just needs to find some more gold (and maybe a few more people like Ned) and then it'll be perfect. His brain is full of day-dreams of a nice cool, dark place where he can pile everything up, maybe some big cages for the rest of the collection. And then he can nap happily knowing everything's safe. The thought of it makes him smile again, content rather than hungry this time.

He leans back against the bed, staying close for now, happy just to be looking over it all.

Perhaps River should have spent the first day attempting to track down everyone she cared about to ensure they were all right, since she woke to find herself quite lacking the ability to just know, but. Well. Waking up with a head full of her own thoughts and no other noise save the quiet whisper of the wind in the leaves was a novel experience and River wanted to be able to just...enjoy that for a while.

Thus she's become even more tree like in the evening compared to when she'd actually been responding to the noises of confused, angry distress (or occasional showboating, thank you Mr. Stark) emanating from the tiny screen on her wrist. She is at least partially a physical representation of whatever tree she's parked herself in, perfectly content to take in the quiet hush of things that are just growing and being and existing rather without question.

Until the tree she's in starts wondering where that mushroom in it's roots came from.

So that gets her attention, enough to move through the tree and peer at what's going on at the ground level. It's Ned, and Ned is something so terribly familiar that the whole tree wants to bend to hold him - it can't, and more's the pity - but he's with two other people.

No. Not with. Being taken by two other people. Meyer the counting vampire and Charlie who seems to be generating quite a lot of heat. And smoking.

Doesn't take River nearly as long to add up two and two and come up with dragon but even without her psychic ability she is still what The Academy trained her to be; so the tiniest assassin moves from tree to tree, watching their progression into the house and observing from a nearby window as Ned is tied up and Meyer just...talks.

Meyer is afraid to engage Charlie, maybe (understandable, since burning dead flesh is not a fun smell) but River is not. Not with skin that suddenly becomes as thick as a centuries old tree, and hair that wraps like kudzu. The question is how to deal with this. She didn't stop them in the open because for all she knows, Charlie could set the entire town on fire and there's at least a dozen trees within easy range - besides, running with Ned in the open when he leaves a path of flowers in his wake seems like the opposite of stealth.

She needs to get in. If she can get in she can incapacitate them and get Ned to safety, though if incapacitate also means 'grievously harm' River won't be too disappointed. Charlie is obviously the threat here; he's the one who keeps herding Ned around, he's the one that watches over Ned like a prize, he's the one who tied Ned to the radiator to begin with, and the one who can make fire. A vampire probably wouldn't get much out of biting a tree, River decides, dropping down to the ground to pick up a few rocks and chew thoughtfully on a few nightshade flowers.

The largest and heaviest rock gets thrown through the attic window, with enough twist so that it bounces on the floor several times like a skipping stone after it crashes through the glass as loudly as possible. Namely this is to get everyone to look up and away from the window of the room Ned is tied up in, since the last thing she wants is for her friend to get an eyefull of shattered glass. It gives her at least twenty seconds of surprise anyway, which is more than enough time to launch a second rock through the picture window with every intent of hitting Charlie square in the head.

Of course, the window will probably change the trajectory quite a bit, but if River is lucky it will at least hit the man in the shoulder or somewhere else. If she's not, well. She's following the rock through the window anyway, and has a pinecone to shove in Charlie's mouth if he tries to breathe fire on anyone.

That should be fun.

The crash in the attic does draw his attention, his head snapping upwards. Then seconds later a rock hits him on the side of his head. It lost a lot of its speed when it crash through the window, but it still hurts, and Charlie's up in a second, practically spitting flames. Smoke curls from the corners of his mouth in anger rather than contentment this time. There is an intruder and his THINGS are here and that can only mean one thing. Whoever this person is, they're here for what's his. And he's not going to let that happen.

A surprisingly small figure, but he doesn't let that fool him. Meyer's small, and he knows very well how deadly he can be. His hands are clenched at his sides as he faces her, skin starting to glow red.

"You ain't gonna be happy you did that, bitch."

Ned's nerves are wound pretty tight right now, understandably, and so he doesn't think anyone could blame him for yelping at the sound of breaking glass and a loud THUMP from upstairs. When a rock comes sailing in through the window in this room and hits Charlie, however, he realizes that, just maybe, his luck is turning for the better. He twists in place and his heart leaps when he sees River coming in the window. It take a moment to recognize her, what with the fact that she's rather more tree-ish than Ned is used to, but it's unmistakably her.

"River!" he exhales, and the relief he feels at that moment is overwhelming. It doesn't last; Charlie looks like he's up for a fight, and Ned starts immediately conjuring unpleasant what-ifs. He doesn't want River to get hurt, ever, but he especially doesn't want her to get hurt trying to help him. Then it will be his fault, and he won't be able to bear it. And Charlie is starting to glow and looks like he could murder her where she stands. Ned starts tugging at his bonds in more earnest. He doesn't care if he has to break all of his fingers to get free, he has to help...

"Sorry we're late gēge," River says to Ned without actually looking away from the glowing dragon!man, shifting her posture to drop her shoulders and extend her legs behind her a little from the windowsill. "Have faith in the little sister, still."

Because, seriously, if Ned hurts himself getting loose that's not useful. If Ned hurts himself trying and failing to fight to protect River? Even less useful. Granted Meyer seems to be trying to untie Ned without drawing too much attention, and that might be the best thing.

If Charlie opens up to fire she'll shove that pinecone in and if he doesn't she's going to kick him in the throat as hard as he can and do her level best to bounce his skull off the floor, but he's obviously easily goaded so why not use that to her advantage too? She points at Charlie and then turns her wrist into a beckoning motion with two fingers. "Let's see what the world made you today. Our guess is the ass of a baboon; you're red enough for one."

Edited 2013-04-08 16:44 (UTC)

"You fucking brat." Charlie is working on instinct and anger and not much else right now, which is why he lunges towards the girl without much plan in mind. He knows he can burn, so reached for her arm with his hand, working his energy to make his skin burn red hot.

[open] apples and quinces, lemons and oranges

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