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

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.

There's nothing like thinking you're prepared for something and...finding you are, in River's case, which is to say that she gives a blink of consideration to the hot pain when Charlie makes contact before she grabs his arm in return, yanks him close and headbutts him as hard as she can before swinging him with all of her might backwards away from her into the wall furthest from the window.

Of course his hand leaves an impressive hand-shaped burn in her skin but she can deal with that ...later. Now she has a split second to jam her elbow into Charlie's jaw and hope it dazes him enough.

If dazing him is what she was going for, she certainly achieves it. It all happens so fast - the sharp pain of his forehead, then hitting the wall and winding him, then the elbow under his jaw. It takes him a few seconds to recover, make the room stop spinning. He tries to take a step forward and sways.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you, you fucking whore!"

Meyer, whose entire attention was focused on untying Ned, has now achieved his goal. With a nod at Ned, a nod that's obviously tinged with some kind of apology, although he doesn't quite seem to have the words to match the look of regret on his face, he pulls the ropes away. Normally, he might pat someone on the shoulder reassuringly, but he doesn't dare risk touching Ned again. That done, he turns to the fight, and immediately realizes things are going very poorly.

Charlie is obviously dazed, and River -- he assumes it's the girl he spoke to earlier that day, the girl who'd been turned into some kind of tree spirit -- seems to be winning the fight, or at least knocking him around pretty well. And if there's one thing he doesn't want to see happen, it's Charlie getting severely hurt, no matter how much he may deserve a punch or two for his ill-planned kidnapping.

Meyer's used to breaking up fights. It's something he learned from a young age, ever since he realized he didn't have as quick of a temper as many of his friends, ever since he realized he could hold his own in a fight, but could often avoid one altogether with logic. There's only one choice here, only one way to make sure he gets both of their attention, and quickly, so they don't kill each other. He knows murderous intent when he sees it, and he's pretty sure it's written all over Charlie's face.

So he stands swiftly, then physically places himself between the two combatants, one hand out to each side in the universal gesture for 'stop,' the look on his face determined, calm, not at all angry. "Everyone stop," he says, and his hand instinctively goes to Charlie's shoulder to stop him from taking any more steps forward. He doesn't touch River, doesn't know her well enough to assume that his touch will have a calming effect. "Everyone stop, take a deep breath, and calm down. We don't want to do this."

Then he turns to Charlie, eyes intent on him, hand still on his shoulder, and switches to speaking Italian for a moment. "Charlie, don't do this. We can all walk away from this if you calm down. This isn't what you really want, just like I didn't really want to bite Ned. Calm down and none of us will get any more hurt than we already are."

A deep breath, then he addresses the room as a whole, including Ned, who he hopes has somewhat recovered from his uncomfortable tied-up position. "This is all a horrible mistake -- but behaving this way and fighting each other is what our captors want, can't you see? They turn us into something terrible, they give us power we don't know how to handle, so of course we're going to take it out on each other. Let's not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing us unable to control ourselves."

In this case, he means Charlie and himself not being able to control their attacks, their apparent desire for kidnapping, but it's better to leave the statement vague, not wanting to anger Charlie further by calling him out publicly. He sighs and continues. "River, you were only doing what a friend would do at seeing someone they cared about in danger, but I'm officially declaring this fight over. Ned, you got dragged into something you shouldn't have, and you're free to go now. Charlie, I understand that you didn't intend for this to go the way it did, but I need you to take a step back and calm down. Nobody's killing anybody. This isn't getting any worse than it already has."

And he'll stand right in between the two of them until they give up the fight and Ned escapes the house. If they want to keep fighting, they can tear him apart, but he's had it up to here with this whole day, and he's done.

Fuck you, Meyer. Fuck you and your logic and always thinking this shit can get solved up with fucking words when every bone in his body is vibrating with the need to tear somebody limb from limb. He pushes hard into Meyer's hands, still stumbling and disorientated from his repeated blows to the head.

"Get the fuck off me, Meyer! I needs this! This is fucking MINE!" he's blowing smoke and hissing as he screams, doing everything to force his way out of Meyer's grasp. But he's not burning the house down. Yet.

River knows exactly what she is doing, but fortunately enough she also can see what Meyer is doing, this attempt at calming his friend/family/loved one; River doesn't care about the label, though she is amused suddenly at the concept of the Page (herself) fighting a dragon (Charlie). It's probably best, she realizes, that she isn't connected to the emotional state of everyone else in the room, or this even-tempered vampire would not be able to stop her from doing her absolute level best to draw actual blood from Charlie for the trespass of daring to threaten her loved ones and treating them like a damned shiny.

To this extent, as she draws herself slightly away from Meyer's extended hand and back towards Ned, reaching her own arm out towards her friend. "We'd kill for family," she says, keeping her voice even and her eyes locked on Charlie's, "you and I. Would and could and have." Her eyes narrow and the hand reaching for Ned loses some of it's bark-like qualities. "So you'll permit this, you'll let us walk away, a tribute can be provided, but not in blood, or blood will be repaid in turn."

She'll bring you shiny things, but you can't keep Ned, that's the gist of it. "Accept."

It becomes quickly clear to Ned that River can handle herself even better than he had expected, but he sees the burn where Charlie touched her and he doesn't want her to be hurt any more. All that fear over what might happen to him hasn't gone away with the appearance of the cavalry - it's just shifted a few degrees to the left and become fear over what might happen to her.

So his heart leaps with gladness when Meyer interposes himself between the two fighters and brings things to a halt.

Ned gains a new appreciation for the man's bravery; he's always favored diplomacy, himself, and it's a mark in Meyer's favor that he doesn't just throw in his lot with Charlie. That he goes to such great lengths to right the situation and make sure everyone gets away unharmed, not just the man that he knows. And he's right. He's right about their captors, right that this is what they want.

Charlie doesn't seem inclined to listen to logic (that really is a terrible lot of smoke coming from him), but Meyer is capably holding him back. And River - River is at Ned's side, reaching for him, and he grips her hand like it's a life-line. When she calls him family, says she'd kill for him, he feels his throat go tight with a confused mix of happiness and disbelief and confusion and fear, still; for her, and the harm that might come to her for thinking of him as family.

He wants to run, now, not to keep talking. The rational part of his brain understands that coming to a lasting truce now will mean no pursuit, no search, no repeats of this nightmare, but the rest of him is screaming that the two of them need to get out now. He forces himself to stay still - as still as he can while he's still shaking like a leaf - and wait for Charlie's reply. He holds River's hand a little tighter; he does trust her.

His outstretched hand that's still touching Charlie's skin is beginning to burn badly enough that he can feel the pain even through his concentration on remaining calm, but he's not moving his hand, not until Charlie stops shouting and blowing smoke and hissing, not until Ned is out of the room and River is gone with him, not until he's absolutely certain that everyone is done with this confrontation.

At River's words, he turns to her and nods firmly. "We accept," he says, careful not to say that Charlie accepts on his own because, really, there's no way he would -- and Charlie doesn't like being spoken for. But the two of them together? Yes, they can certainly agree to those terms. Maybe other shiny things will distract Charlie's attention enough that he doesn't go after Ned again. Meyer can hope. He understands where River's coming from, understands what it means to protect family -- or those one considers family -- in this way. He wouldn't have done any different, had the roles been reversed.

There's only the slightest evidence of pain on his face as he speaks again, his tight grip on Charlie not loosening at all even as his tone remains almost conversational. "I think that's settled, then. A fair outcome for all of us." All there remains left to see is whether Charlie agrees or not; and whether he does or doesn't is almost a moot point: Ned won't be his victim.

Charlie pushes against Meyer's hands again, but it's feebler this time. Now that Meyer's stepped in, the part of his brain that isn't consumed with lust and fury is screaming at him, telling him to let it go because there's no way he's winning this. But all the same - his heart arches to see his thing leaving. Don't they know how much he needs this?

It's too much confusion in one brain and he snarls again, but Meyer will feel is skin getting just a little cooler.

"Get the fuck out."

Edited 2013-04-10 23:57 (UTC)

River is not one to be told twice, not today; when Ned took her hand the transformation hinted at began in full, bark sloughing and changing in favor of new skin, the burn mark on her arm filling with moss until it, too, fell off, exposing a healing scar.

A squeeze to Ned's hand and they're off, running through the hallway until they reach the door outside and River starts to laugh, true and loud, leading the way back to Ned's bower.

"Found you," she teases; and clearly, not a moment too late.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[open] apples and quinces, lemons and oranges

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject