[open] apples and quinces, lemons and oranges

[nedofpies]

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.

Comments

[nedofpies]

"I don't know." Ned doesn't object to Jesse coming closer or staring at him. He rests his head on his hand because yes, he's awfully tired, and it's getting difficult to hold it up straight the way he's supposed to. "Not since the thing with Galen." He's caught himself drifting off, now and then, but never for more than a handful of minutes at a time. "I was too scared to."

It's nice, being able to say that, so plainly, so simply, and know Jesse won't scoff at him, or think less of him.

"So I guess that's about..." he starts trying to count the hours, has to stop and do it over, "... 40 hours? Ish?" He doesn't know exactly when the nightmare happened, so the figure isn't precise. It does sound like a lot, now that he's saying it out loud. Ned's had problems with insomnia before, so it's not exactly a new number to him, but he's not as young as he used to be.

[rigging]

It does make Jesse feel bad, though - because he feels like he should've been around to stop it. It's not the same thing as Galen and the nightmare dog, but still. So Ned's too scared to sleep, and forty hours, yeah, Jesse's going to have to do something about it.

"Jesus fuckin' christ, Ned, almost two days?" It's not anything but concern, because Jesse's been there. "Man, look. You're gonna sleep right now, and I'm gonna look after you, yeah? Don't argue with me, you gotta sleep. And you said Galen gets all like - up in your business, right? Well, if it happens, I'll bite him."

Don't try to stop him either, because he's already pulling off the cardigan and making it into a pillow.

[nedofpies]

It's so much easier not to argue. So much easier to trust Jesse, to nod blearily and accept his offer of protection - not just from Galen, but from anything else that might happen across him here: vampires, dragons, or some new monster waiting for a turn.

Ned might protest, under other circumstances, but he remembers that Jesse can turn into a wolf, can look out for himself. He accepts the cardigan pillow, setting down his head with a soft, "Okay." He wants to say thank you, but now that he's laying down and his eyes are closed, it seems an impossible effort to open his mouth. He'll say it in a minute, he thinks. But then he's already slipped off to sleep. His face looks different while he sleeps: restful, blank, the habitual anxiety wiped away.

[rigging]

Ned going straight to sleep makes Jesse grin a little, rubbing at the back of his head. Right. Time to protect, then. He can do that well enough.

With a sigh, Jesse shakes himself out and in the next minute, he's a wolf, big and furry and warm as hell. He takes in the way Ned looks, snuffling, and then promptly moves to settle down mostly on top of Ned, head flopping down on Ned's chest with a snort. There. Now he's safe.

And Ned has a big flurry blanket. He'll stay there until Ned wakes up.

[nedofpies]

Ned sleeps for quite some time without dreaming. The nightmare, when it does come, is nowhere near as intense as the last, without Galen there to draw it out, to turn the screw. It is simpler, too - a blind, breathless fright from some unknown, unnamed danger. Ned wakes from it with a tiny, frightened inhalation.

A wolf - Jesse, his brain supplies - is sleeping curled up on him, its face pressed against his chest, one ear twitching as it lets out a long, contented sigh. The fear evaporates immediately. Ned drapes one arm over the wolf and closes his eyes, slipping back to sleep without another sound, feeling warm, and safe, and happy.