[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

[gleans]

Galen drops his hands back down in his lap, then nods, thinking of how to start. At least now, after explaining this a few times, it's a little easier than it was - and it doesn't seem that long ago, at all - that first time, explaining to Brad what exactly had happened to him.

"A couple weeks ago, I got sent home," he begins, picking lightly at the grass in front of him. "I have no idea how, but I didn't remember being here. And -- I know it was real, because this had already happened, for Jesse, before he showed up." He pauses, then waves his hand. "But -- that's not important. While I was home, I started... um, being in other people's dreams. Like, seeing them, participating, even being able to like -- change shit, after a while. But it took me a while to even realize that they were other people's dreams."

He bites his lip, and doesn't wait for Ned to say anything before he continues. "But one of my bandmates, Daphne, she didn't believe me. So -- like a fucking idiot, I guess, I tried to find her and prove it to her. And the whole time, I was thinking, 'why can I do this? Why me? Am I supposed to help people?' And I figured -- yeah, of course, there must be a reason. So I kept working at it. I went looking for Daphne, but I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, y'know -- abilities like this don't come with a fucking instruction manual. So I ended up... I dunno. Between dreams? Just this dark -- nowhere." He swallows. "With this... dog. But it wasn't a dog, it was like, this being, made out of... just, awful things, y'know, and it bit me. And... things got bad."

Galen pauses for a breath, just to center himself, one hand idly rubbing at his left forearm. He can still feel the ghost of the bite, even though it was never there in waking life, and it makes him shiver a little.

"It... influenced me. In the worst way."

[nedofpies]

Beside the point as it may be, the idea of being sent back without any memory, and then being kidnapped all over again is chilling to Ned. But he sets it aside in his mind, listens to what Galen tells him about his dream-walking power. It's an interesting concept as far as Ned is concerned, though of course, quite the invasion of privacy. But with the right person, with permission...

And then Galen says what he does about his ability not coming with an instruction manual, and Ned's stomach twists with dread. He knows now that this story isn't going to be good. Knows that, because when his powers arrived without instruction manual, he'd killed two people within a day. Something horrible had happened to Galen for the same reason (misunderstanding of the mechanics and limits of his ability) that most of Ned's horrible somethings had happened to him.

Dark nowhere with a dog made out of awful things sounds evocatively hellish to Ned, and he shivers.

"You went dark side?" Ned prompts, gently. He wants to tell Galen that he doesn't have to talk about it, that he's not going to make him tell all his worst secrets after being so defensive of his own, but he recognizes something about this conversation. Sees that it is a confession, that Galen wants to get these things out in the air, so he lets him without interrupting any further.

[gleans]

Galen laughs ruefully, reaching up to rub at his eye. "Yeah. Kinda. I still thought I was helping, but the thing, whatever it was, like -- when I was dreaming, the bite, my arm, was infected. I was infected. Like it took my desire to help fight off people's nightmares and twisted it until I was the one turning nightmares on them, thinking I could get them to figure out how to fight them off themselves, cuz I couldn't be there to help all the time. I didn't see how fucked up it was. I was sick. And eventually -- I just didn't wake up."

He licks his lips and keeps his eyes on the grass, for now, not wanting to look at Ned right this second. He can still remember how cold and sick he felt the first time he woke up after that bite, how he'd thrown up and spent the day with Jesse -- and how Jesse had told him to stay out.

"And then -- I remember, I went full Krueger. I went after Jesse, and I think I -- um." No, he doesn't need to go that far. He doesn't want to think about Terri's dead grandfather. "Eventually I -- I guess I found a way to drag them all together. Jesse, Daphne, Terri, Brad. But I guess they helped me stop myself, somehow, like -- whatever sane part of me was left bled out the poison, killed that -- fucking -- corrupted part of me, and we finally woke up."

He pauses, then digs his fingers in the grass again, somewhat anxiously. "-- Anyway, it's over. Or it's supposed to be, but our hosts have a sick fucking sense of humour. But I wanted you to know. Not just cuz it's fair, but... just in case anything happens again." He glances up at Ned -- it's a show of trust.

[nedofpies]

Ned doesn't say anything more as he listens, watches Galen as he struggles to get the words out. He doesn't want to know the details that fill in the gaps of the story, doesn't want to know exactly how Galen hurt Jesse. It's enough to know that he did. Ned really likes the both of them, by this point, and the thought of Galen hurting Jesse makes him feel horrible for both of them. Ned knows what it's like to hurt people without meaning to, to feel that guilt, that self-loathing. But he also knows what it's like to be hurt, and they are both valid, both unenviable.

He hadn't noticed himself getting tense as the story went on, but when Galen says that he'd managed to eradicate the corrupted part of himself - the part that was causing the pain - Ned feels a bitter envy. That isn't something he's ever going to be able to do. It shouldn't be a surprise to him, to learn that the only way Galen hurt people in the past was because of an external, malevolent influence. He was just another one of the victims, in his own way, and now he is clean again, pure again, with the evil 'bled out', as he put it.

But Ned can tell that this business for the past few days has been opening some very deep old wounds, and he doesn't envy that, at least.

"It is sick," he confirms, "How could they do that to you?" It is rhetorical; Ned knows that human beings possess a near infinite capacity for cruelty, shouldn't be surprised by it. But when it's directed at Galen, at someone he was just starting to be friends with, it revolts him anew. "What could they possibly hope to gain out of making you relive all that stuff?"

Ned sighs, and it is an angry sound. Angry on Galen's behalf. "The way it sounds to me, none of all that was your fault in the first place. But I also know that knowing that doesn't make anything any easier." Now is the time when, if he wanted to be fair, Ned would tell Galen his own story, to show just how much he can empathize, can really understand what it's like to feel toxic. He doesn't.

[gleans]

"No idea." He glances up, shrugs, and his expression makes it seem like it's not as big of a deal as it actually is. "But they've already taken my voice and made me hallucinate my mom, so at this point, nothing is a fucking surprise."

He nods, then, glad that Ned agrees. All this shit aside, maybe they can continue on their way to becoming friends. "Yeah, that's another thing," Galen says lightly, now reaching up to rake a hand back through his short hair. "I figured you'd get the whole 'can't help it, still feel like shit' thing. Not that these are really comparable, but -- you know what I mean." Like the thing about the lack of instructions, Ned gets it.

[nedofpies]

He has never been much good at hiding his reactions to things, try as he might. When Galen mentions hallucinating his mother, Ned - who had been watching a bee climb its way up a stalk of lavender - looks up at Galen sharply. Now, more than ever, he realizes how lucky he is to have arrived after the mass drugging. If he had hallucinated his own mother, he isn't sure he would have come out the other side quite sane.

Part of him wants to ask why Galen's mother, what happened to her (perhaps nothing, but Ned has already been seeing so many parallels between them that his mind leaps to the conclusion), but he remains silent. It's none of his business. Galen's told him plenty of things today - difficult, personal things - without Ned prying for more.

"They're comparable enough," Ned says. Mentally, he adds except that yours doesn't come with a body count. But he doesn't want to remind Galen any more than necessary that he's a murderer. "So yeah, I know what you mean."

There is a moment of silence between them, and Ned says quietly, "I never thought I'd meet anyone who got it. Or even anyone else who had could do stuff, like we can." That has been one of the unexpected silver linings of being brought to this place: realizing that he isn't alone.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it any more, but do you know where it came from, in the first place? Your dream-walking stuff?" Ned, in his own way, is trying to be helpful, trying to point Galen in the direction of an answer, of an identity, if he should want one. Ned knows from recent experience how great that can be. "I don't have any idea for mine, but some people here were saying that maybe it's something to do with genetic mutation? Which made a lot more sense to me than... than a random curse."

[gleans]

Galen doesn't notice Ned's reaction, so he just nods, then plants his hands behind him and leans back a little. He'd never really thought about how nice it might be to talk to someone in a similar situation; someone who didn't ask for it, who has to deal with the consequences of something they don't even fully understand.

"Genetic mutation?" He frowns thoughtfully, but he's not sure how something like this could be genetics. Unless humans really do have some kind of latent capacity for psychic abilities, which honestly wouldn't surprise him. He's always had feelings about things, growing up, so that might be a possible next step. God, to think he thought the world was normal, a year ago.

"I actually have no idea, but... that sounds possible. And definitely better than a random curse." And better than that thing making it happen, wanting it to happen. He shivers a little.

"Huh. I wonder if that means something was like... passed down, or something." Better this than schizophrenia, he thinks, but then that opens another door of questions he can't answer, so he quickly pushes that away.

[nedofpies]

"That was what I thought. But the person I asked-" Ned is careful not to give any names. It's not that he distrusts Galen, but it isn't Ned's information to give out, "-said it doesn't have to be hereditary. That's part of how evolution works, right? Out of nowhere there's a random glitch in the DNA of one kangaroo, and if that glitch is helpful, it gets passed down until there are only kangaroos with that mutation. Maybe... the gene for having abilities like ours is like that." Ned's not exactly a science whizz, but he thinks he understands the Darwinian basics well enough to explain the idea, as he understands it, to Galen.

"It may also explain why it only started after you got sent back," Ned says, the pieces seeming to all fit into place. "The guy said that mutations don't really work until they get triggered by something. Like, a traumatic event, specifically." He'd also said puberty was an option, but Galen's old enough that Ned doubts that was at play. "Maybe getting sent back from here and not being able to remember it was the kick-start it needed." Ned sure as hell considers that trauma enough.

[gleans]

The way Ned explains it makes it make sense, particularly the possibility that it could be some kind of random evolutionary factor. He nods, sighs a little in relief at the explanation.

"That'd do it, I guess," he agrees. "Or maybe not, like -- that point I went home, I was pretty stressed out anyway, and I know stress can trigger a lot of shit. But -- yeah, man, either way, you're right. Something triggered it, whether it was working too hard or physically getting chucked back home." And either way, it still unnerves him.

"So -- I never got the chance to ask about what you got saddled with," Galen says, attempting to gently shift the subject. He reaches to touch one of the close by flowers, smirking a little. "This is a fuckton of foliage, dude."

[nedofpies]

Ned can take a hint. He smiles at Galen's unusual - but apt - turn of phrase. "You can say that again."

He feels a little guilty, that his power has proved so thoroughly enjoyable, whereas Galen's has been putting him - and others - through hell. "I don't know what you'd even call it," he say, running a hand over the grass in demonstration. A few seconds later, a small army of bluebells are growing as if in fast-forward, just over the area that Ned touched. He plucks a handful, tying the stem of one around the lot to make a quick bouquet. He's gotten quite good at that. "I seem to make things grow."

Reaching over to a nearby strawberry vine, Ned plucks one of the pieces of fruit, ruby-red and perfectly ripe, from the stem. "Can only seem to make it work on fruit and flowers, though. Not sure why."