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

Shiny things? A magpie? Ned can't think of any kind of supernatural or science-fiction or mythological creature that loves shiny things, off the top of his head.

Ned doesn't contradict Meyer's assertion that vampires aren't very nice. He's not going to try to placate him with platitudes. Attacking people isn't nice, but he understands that Meyer's control over himself has been compromised. He might take a harsher view, if he'd been more injured, if he hadn't healed, but as it is...

"Doesn't sound like whatever he's turned into is very nice, either."

And then Ned, in a fit of hospitality, offers, "If you don't mind camping out, you're welcome to stay here for the night. I was intending to. Had a... bit of a run-in with a housemate myself."

"You mean that?"

He's confused by this hospitality. Politeness is one thing, and he generally strives for it, but if someone had recently attacked him, he's not sure he'd have the ability to offer them a place to stay for the night. And then, because he may be drunk, but he's still perceptive, despite his altered state, he has to ask the obvious question: "What happened with your housemate? Someone take offense at your flowers?"

He can't imagine what kind of problem someone could have with Ned. Thus far, he's been nothing but accommodating -- and the flowers are really very nice.

"Yes."

As for the danger of having Meyer stay there, Ned isn't too concerned. He isn't actually planning on going to sleep, himself, though he was careful enough not to say that part out loud. If he did, Meyer would probably ask more questions, and he isn't intending to go into specifics.

That is why, when he asks what happened with Ned's housemate, Ned shrugs as if it weren't a big matter; he also crosses his arms over his chest, an unconscious self-comforting gesture. His voice has a quality of bitter understatement when he answers:

"Let's just say he's turned into something even scarier than a vampire."

Edited 2013-04-07 21:45 (UTC)

Meyer isn't even sure if vampires can sleep, so there may be two of them lying there awake, pretending to sleep. He feels tired, yes, but he has to wonder whether that's the blood he's consumed contributing just as much as any natural tiredness is. He hasn't figured out exactly what being a vampire means yet.

Of course he notices that Ned crosses his arms over his chest -- he knows that gesture well, knows it to be a self-protective one; he's perceptive, even when he's drunk. "Sounds like you've been having a... hmm..."

There's a word he's looking for, just on the tip of his tongue, that he can't quite express for a few seconds. It takes staring at the flowers for awhile to get his brain back on track. "An extremely eventful day. Did he hurt you, too?"

"Haven't we all?" Not all of today had been bad eventful, by any means. It had just gotten off to an extremely rocky start. One that Ned doesn't feel like dwelling on too much, and certainly not talking about. Still, he can see why Meyer would want to know. It's not just curiosity, he imagines. It may perhaps give him a sense that he's not the only one who has lost the ability to control himself, because of these changes.

Which is why Ned makes eye contact with Meyer and nods, once. Of course, what he'd done hadn't been a physical attack. It was going to take significantly longer for that wound to knit back up.

But now he's let his thoughts get too close to it, and he doesn't feel like talking for a little while. So instead, he goes back to what he'd been doing before Meyer showed up, running his hands across the ground and leaving springy moss everywhere he touches. It might not be as good as a bed, but it will do. At least it's warm out, now.

"Yeah, we all have."

He gets that Ned doesn't want to talk about it, as curious as he is to know just what had happened. He doesn't want to make Ned's day any worse, though -- after having attacked him, it's probably not considered polite to make him dwell on his unpleasant day.

Not talking for a little while suits him just fine. He's comfortable leaning back into the grass, staring at the flowers with a unfocused gaze, wondering how many different types of flowers Ned could make appear. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he's wondering what Charlie's doing, and whether or not he'll feel like heading home anytime tonight.

Charlie isn't Meyer's keeper. He is very much aware of this. They both live their own lives and go their own places and generally he doesn't have a problem with this. But today... well the fact that Meyer isn't here is just bugging him. Maybe it's because of all the things people are turning into, he knows there's a chance Meyer could be more at risk than usual. Or maybe he knows deep down people are at risk from Meyer himself.

Either way, he gives up pacing around the house waiting for him to come home, and goes out after him.

He's not hard to find, not in a place this size. Besides, there's something drawing him to the park, a smell or a feeling that makes him feel like it's a good place to go.

He spots Meyer's fairly quickly, and strides over, getting a firm hand around his bicep to hoist him up before he can protest too much. "Come on, we're going home," he says and that should be the end of that. Except.

Except. That smell and that feeling. It's coming off Meyer, slightly. But even stronger from the man there with him. It's almost intoxicating, and Charlie just has to stop. And stare.

Ned springs to his feet, hands raised in a calming gesture at the man who had just barged over and hauled Meyer off the ground. He doesn't want to get involved in whatever kind of squabble they have going on, but he can't just sit there and do nothing. What this situation needs is someone calm, reasonable, level-headed. Too bad Ned has never been so good at the calm part

"I'm guessing you're Charlie?" he blurts. "Meyer was just telling me about you. It's n-nice to meet you, I'm Ned."

He holds out a hand for Charlie to shake, his nervous smile not reaching his eyes. What the hell is he hoping to accomplish? It's unlikely that some niceties would calm the man down, discourage him from taking out what is clearly a very bad temper on his friend. But he doesn't know what else to do or say.

Their little housemate tiff doesn't explain why Charlie is giving Ned that actually quite unsettling look, though. He half-laughs, anxiously, starts to draw back his hand.

Edited 2013-04-07 23:06 (UTC)

Meyer is not pleased about being hauled off the ground, but his only form of defense seems to be ineffectually swatting at Charlie, wanting him to let go of his arm so he can lie down again. Charlie's still in a bad mood, obviously, and he doesn't want to go home, not if it's going to be like this. Besides, Meyer's tired. He just wants to lie there in a stupor. He doesn't want to have to walk home.

"Yeah, that's Charlie," he says, completely abandoning the attempts not to slur his speech and sounding more drunk than ever, even as he tries to wrench out of Charlie's grip. "That's Charlie, who's probably here to take me home, because he doesn't think I can handle myself."

Normally, he's quite good at handling himself. Normally, it's him going after Charlie, trying to diffuse a situation. In this case, though, maybe Charlie's right -- after all, once he stormed out of the house, he immediately found Ned and attacked him. That wasn't a good way to manage things.

"You're fucking drunk, Meyer," sure, it's been a long time since he's seen Meyer drunk, but he remembers the signs very well. Not letting go of him, yet. He uses his thumb to wipe off some of the blood from Meyer's chin. He's too distracted by the smell of it to really think about what it means.

But at the same time... whoever this Ned person is, his desire to take him home with them right the fuck now is becoming slightly over-whelming. Still keeping Meyer in a firm grip, he walks towards Ned, holding out a hand. He grips Ned's firmly before he can pull it away. "Charlie Luciano. Pleased to meet you and all that."

The smell around Ned is intoxicating - sweet and spicy and heady all at once.

Edited 2013-04-07 23:20 (UTC)

Ned doesn't know what he should do. Normally, he'd be all for passing off a drunk near-stranger to his longtime friend to take care of, but Meyer had been avoiding Charlie for a reason. So would it be best to try to intervene, keep the two of them separate for a while? Just until whatever's changed all of them wears off? Is he even capable of doing so, even if he does decide it is the best course of action?

Except that Charlie hardly seems interested in Meyer. There is a casual intimacy to the way he wipes the blood off Meyer's chin, but then he turns back to Ned. Why he's so interested, Ned has absolutely no idea, but he isn't sure he likes it. Especially when, apparently he isn't allowed to have his hand back. His aversion to touch might have lessened with these new powers, but hanging on like that just isn't normal,

But then it gets even weirder; a moment later Charlie, quite undisguisedly, smells him. Not smelling any of the hundreds of flowers around them, but him.

"Um... can I... help you with something?" Which of course is polite Ned-speak for what the hell is wrong with you.

Meyer might be drunk -- if you can even call being intoxicated on blood being truly drunk -- but he's not too drunk to realize that Charlie is definitely smelling Ned. He feels as though he should say something, but what can he say? After all, is it really so strange that Charlie's smelling him? Meyer had already tasted him, hadn't he? Come to think of it, he'd tasted pretty delicious.

"Charlie, c'mon, I'm not drunk," is the only protest he manages to give. He's halfheartedly attempting to wrench his arm out of Charlie's grasp, then looking at Ned with an apologetic shrug. He can't seem to break free -- which should concern him, since despite his relatively short stature, he can generally go toe to toe with Charlie in any kind of physical altercation -- and he doesn't know what the hell Charlie's up to.

"What are you doing? Don't smell him. He tastes good, but don't..."

Had he said that out loud? He feared he had. But why would Charlie care? He's not a vampire. He won't be eating him.

Charlie can't really hear what's going on around him. He has a vague idea of Meyer tugging at his hand, but it only makes him grip harder. All the matters is the man in front of him, and his urge to keep him.

He lets go of Meyer at last, but only so he can wrench Ned closer, and get him around the neck one-handed. Charlie's hands are warm - warmer than anyone's should be, and his grip is inhumanly strong. He smells him again, more obvious this time.

"You already tasted this, Meyer? I don'ts fucking blame you." He certainly smells good enough to eat. "You're coming homes with us, buddy."

Hand still firm around Ned's neck, he gives a strong jerk, moving him back towards their house.

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."

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