tornheart | APPLE ORCHARDS AND TORN DREAMS [OPEN]

Entry tags:

APPLE ORCHARDS AND TORN DREAMS [OPEN]

Who: Open Log (All)
Where: Around the city (one prompt at the Green Valley school
Summary: Welcome Ceremonies, Dreams, Stirring a shadow hornet's nest. No big deal.
Warnings: N/A

"Are you ready my black lambs? Let's get to work..."

Apple Picking (General Prompt)

As September begins, the apple orchards of Greenfield Valley school are bursting with thousands of apples of various flavors and colors. There's even an experimental breed that's blue!

Those who have been attending the school know that this means a few important things. The first (and most important of course) is that it means that fall vacation is coming in just a few weeks (despite school having started just a few weeks ago), the second is that the school's menu is going to have a high number of apple-themed dishes until winter, and finally, the opening ceremonies.

The opening ceremonies are - well - one would consider them mostly boring for typical schools. And truth be told, Green Valley is not an exception. A single camera posed at the school's main gymnasium, a large podium in the center. For those who can't be physically there, the school's televisions all synchronized to a live broadcast as does the audio feeds. You can't quite escape it. Yet most people don't - after all it's one of the rare times of the year where the principal appears to wish students good fortune.

The person who stands in the front, Ms Michelle Andersen, is the very definition of an ice queen. Her face is perhaps locked forever into an emotionless stare. Bright blonde hair with blue eyes, both contract to her orange and black outfit.

Behind her, three men, the vice principals, who tend to play the good cops to her bad cop routine and insist that most students call them by their first names unless something really bad has happened; Norman (the most average man on campus that no one would know who he was if it wasn't for his name tag), Jeremy (the tallest staff member standing at over 195cm, thin, a bit of a lisp but he always means well), and Felix (possibly the hairiest man on campus as far as the rumors go, muscular, and a black beard that matches his scowling face when he isn't laughing - which is usually all the time. In fact, he's holding back himself from doing so when Ms. Andersen speaks.)

The presentation is short, as the Principal wishes all the students a great year, gives a bit of data on the number of students (they are up 300 new students from last year), the number of important guests that have passed, then as quickly as she was there, she leaves, explaining that there are additional meetings and events she will explain in greatest detail in the upcoming months.

Afterwards the students are treated to the vice principals singing a welcome song (it goes as well as one would expect it to go), telling the students that they are free to pick as many apples as they want as long as they all get eaten, but everyone is limited to two of the new apples and report to the hospital wards if any of them feel anything unusual after eating them. Just in case.

When the ceremonies are done, students and staff can return to their day...although some of the staff can be heard commenting that the Principal seemed even more...cold this year. Of course asking them for details would just cause them to shoo anyone away and pretend they didn't say anything.

[OOC: Players are welcome to speak to themselves or go have some apples. It's a general school mingling prompt! Additionally, it will be possible to email the vice principals during that week should the characters want to talk with them or ask school questions. Typical school stuff.]

Sound the Rebellion

(Special Prompt for the Unawakened, Monday the 4th)
The school's opening ceremonies aside, the Unawakened’s Monday was rather...strange. The night was plagued with restlessness as they heard the voice of someone laughing. Waking up feeling 'odd', although that differed between all of then - some would feel sick, others have a headache, or some just deciding that wearing a piece of clothing they haven't wanted to worn would look great right now. Perhaps they got a few comments from their relatives about how strange they were acting that day, or a worried glance if they felt sick. It might get dismissed with a wave of a hand.

After all, how can you explain that when they sometimes look upwards, they hear the sound of a child laughing and briefly see a symbol above their heads? Or that this somehow feels...fine?

Maybe in their new state of mind, they might not even notice the people that keep following them around...

Better than a GPS

(Awakened prompt, Monday 4th, day and night.)
"Alright Lambs, time to get to work."

Luci's voice echoed in their phone, laughing. Was he doing a peace sign?

"There's only a few but they'll be useful. I want you to find them and see what you can do. Who knows! Maybe you might be better at this than me, although I doubt it heh heh heh…Now remember what I said! You have to get them to fall asleep...but there's no real rules for that!"

For the Awakened, the symbols above the Unawakeneds’ heads will be as clear as day - Luci will even go so far as play little musical tunes when the characters are close by or distract them using electronics. "Come on! Stop wasting time and do something!"

For the Unawakened who have a relative, it will be somewhat easy. It is the others that will be a pain. Maybe that's why Luci asked for help. Or maybe he just wanted to see his 'lambs' struggle. "Get them to bed! It's not that hard! If you have trouble, just show them the program I've put into your phone and toaster! Or knock them with your toaster first if you want, I don't care! Just go in teams when you go after them, got it?"

It's obvious that 'sleeping' as far as Luci is concerned, is when someone is unconscious - he seems to almost want someone to knock an Unawakened out and then drag him into a room and let themselves go to sleep.

Once the task is done, and the place is secure, the characters will have to do the same. While the hypnotic wheel from the program is the easiest way, there's no hard rule about knocking oneself out either.

MINDJACK
Once the characters get inside, they'll be in the person's mind and dreams. Eddan's memories are predominant, and the unawakened will be standing there wandering around. It will be up to the Awakened to peel back the fabric of reality, much like curtains and show them the true memories of their past...

But beware. Shadows lurk here, and transforming will be necessarily. And if a character dies in someone else's dream...they might never wake up. So be careful...

The main mission is to showcase the person a few memories. Give them an idea that something might be amiss...it can be a little or a lot. Just be careful that the more memories, the stronger the shadows become... When both are done and awaken, ten minutes will have passed. Perhaps it will be time for question afterwards.

[OOC:The Unawakened characters need to be isolated for the program to run, and so do the players, so half the 'fun' will be setting up the traps so that the characters will be alone.

Awakened might decide to have someone stand on guard while the others go to sleep with the Unawakened, or just all stupidly go together, or find an area where they won't be disturbed - everything is up to you.

The dreamscape can be anything the Unawakened desires! It could be good memories of their time in Eddan or bad memories, a mixture of both, or just silly dreams. Whatever it is, the Awakened will need to 'peel' those memories away - for example showing them that their mother was someone else in their other life, or even directing the person to a mirror so that they can see their true selves. But for each memory - both good or bad, shadows will start to attack both the Unawakened and Awakened. Be careful and let the mods know if a mission goes REALLY bad.]

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"If you don't know the right way to look at things, anyway," he responds, lightly and almost immediately. The concept of 'sight' has been troubling him on and off since their last encounter at the aquarium, although for the life of him he can't figure out why. All that frustration has fortunately been vented into music, but he still can't help but wonder what the preoccupation could mean. He's hardly philosophical unless pressed.

It seems that despite the tumultuous nature of their previous meeting, Vincent has still managed to remember some things. His steps are carefully measured as they set off, perfectly matched to Kit's; there'll be no awkward lurches and checks this time.

"Although I wouldn't apply that to this dump."

Her expression is almost apologetic as she lowers her arms, allowing Orias to drape around her in a more sustainable embrace, but there's no sign of relenting in her eyes. This was painful to watch, knowing what was coming, but it was also the only way to give Kit the tools to protect himself. Protect others.

And maybe, maybe...his own experience wouldn't mirror the horror of her own.

"It's really not me," Reimi corrects him gently, nodding her head in the direction of his protected heart. "This is your mind, remember? It's just reacting to hearing the truth."

A truth that his subconscious understood, but the facade of his false life refused to allow to rise to the surface. Such things had to be peeled back if Kit was ever to truly progress in his own life, and this was the only place to do it without true fear.

"I can help you see it for yourself, if you want." Her gaze moves to the widening tear behind them, and for a moment she bites her lower lip in brief hesitation. "But...it's going to hurt."

This was for his own good, but she couldn't stop herself from giving him the chance to retreat. No one deserved to have this forced upon them. No matter the danger, she wouldn't become that kind of person.

"From all angles," comes Kit's reply, piggybacking easily off Vincent's as if this sort of debate were a practiced routine between them. "There is more to most things than what meets the eye."

More to himself, to his companion, the district where they find themselves, and even Eddan as a whole. Failure to recognize and accept that means choosing to be blind, and choosing to be blind means forfeiting opportunities to glimpse a larger picture. It means being the one watched, not the watcher.

His steps are measured, each the same as the last, his pace easy for Vincent to keep up with...until they turn a corner together, and then they grow a little longer. He will lose his pursuers. Little by little, that feeling of being in someone's sights will disappear.

"I think it applies especially to places like this." He stares ahead. "If you think it's such a dump, though...why were you here?"

This is his doing? The memories, the monsters, the pain and the sound of an animal desperate to escape its cage?

Clenching shut his eyes, Kit chuckles.

"That sounds about right."

He would do such a thing to himself, wouldn't he? In fact, his whole life up until now has been proof, his every decision one that has cost him. Because risk reaped the best rewards.

Uncurling his fingers from the front of his shirt, Kit's eyes open and meet Emily's again. They're harder now, and only grow more determined when a swiping white paw reaches through the tear in the fabric of darkness surrounding them. Whether this is all just a dream or something more real within one, he's ready to face what's coming. More than that, he wants to know.

He's suspected for a while that something was wrong in this city. Has felt there's something more going on behind the scenes. If this is it...then the only way to be able to understand is to open himself up to the possibility. It doesn't matter if it hurts. He's never feared pain anyway.

"Alright." He gives a nod of approval. "But allow me to apologize for whatever you may see."

He doesn't know what to expect, but if it's anything like it feels, feral and hurt and alone, he thinks it's something she shouldn't have to see. In fact...he almost wishes she wouldn't look at all.

Reid immediately grimaced when he heard the word "police." It was a reflex by now, one he probably shouldn't have shown off to a kid, but then, Reid was clearly less careful about the impressions he left than Riki. He was far from the responsible adult figures Riki must have been used to.

"Did you forget where you are, kid? Censoring yourself around here's just gonna make you stand out more," he scoffed, ever appropriate. A sigh, and he ran his hand through his messy bangs. "Ass. Say it. Ay. Es. Es. Ass. You're about to walk through a whole street full of bare ones. Of course, this is my fucking problem."

Watching him laugh mirthlessly, Reimi finds herself struck with a sudden pang of regret that she never took the time to get to know Kit better. It's clear that even without the burden of awakening, he was carrying a great deal of weight on his shoulders. For her to dive in like this with such reckless abandon almost felt as if she were violating that privacy.

But there was no avoiding that now, was there? She wouldn't be able to keep him safe through this ordeal if she averted her eyes now.

Kit's apology startles a laugh out of her, at once fond and a little bittersweet. It's an understandable thing to say, given her appearance, but the truth was - "Don't worry. There's not much that frightens me anymore."

How could there be? She lived and died with the rise and fall of the sun now. She'd spent fifteen years helplessly watching the mutilated victims of Kira pass wordlessly by her before finally confronting him herself. She'd stared blindly into the future as the demons of the alleyway whispered against the back of her neck.

They could discuss the implications of her witnessing this whenever it was over. But Reimi refused to back down or look away from whatever was to come. It was unthinkable.

With a nod in return for his own, she and Orias close the small gap between themselves and the tear in the dreamscape. She pauses and turns only once, to shoot a reassuring look Kit's way. "Don't be afraid, alright? I won't let anything hurt you."

And that was a promise she intended to keep, even against the snarling white beast she continues to glimpse through the rip. Pulling her face into an equally steely expression, she and her persona latch their hands around the bottom corner of the tear...and pull.

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" The query comes just as easily as Kit's replies, settling into the back and forth with an unwarranted familiarity. How had they managed to preserve this rapport after so much time since their first meeting? It was troublesome. "You ought to take your own advice and look a little closer if that's the case."

There were an awful lot of plausible explanations for Vincent's presence in this district despite his apparent disdain for it, and whichever one his companion settled on really didn't matter. The point was to continue being cagey, withholding as much information as he possibly could. Only idiots blabbed at the drop of the hat.

He has enough to focus on without divulging personal statistic. The increase in speed doesn't go unnoticed, and while he still matches it without struggle, it's tipped him off to something in the environment bothering Kit. Despite his continued nonchalant tone, his eyes are now wandering idly across their scenery, trying to spot something out of place.

Her concern isn't met with a response. After all, he isn't afraid, not for himself. It was like climbing over the railing in the stairwell all over again and preparing himself for the inevitable drop. It was foolish. It didn't make any sense, and anyone with half a brain or a modicum of self-preservation would be backpedaling towards the safety of those warmer memories. But he doesn't move.

Except to stride towards the beast that surges out of the tear Emily and her demon widen with their bare hands.

There's scarcely any time at all to glimpse what it is before it collides with him, claws raking his skin, teeth tearing flesh, every wound given mirroring one the four-tailed fox bears — every wound given providing one more piece to the puzzle. He was chased down. Hunted to within an inch of his life. He'd had no choice but to flee to the human world and to bury himself deep within the womb of a young and beautiful woman. She had a kind smile and an even kinder heart.

Shiori.

She deserved a better son than he could ever be...

"...mother?"

The ground rises up far quicker than Kit realizes and his knees scream out with pain as he crashes down. The fox is gone now. Or is it more accurate to say that it is within him? He doesn't know, can't think straight for the pounding of his heart, as if it's beating for the first time.

Did Emily see any of that? Can she see the tracks across his skin and feel his pulse hammering out of control?

It's that thought that finally convinces him to take a deep, steadying breath. Not for fear of being seen as vulnerable, but because he doesn't wish to worry his companion. She'd been so adamant about protecting him...like her.

This is the least he can do.

To rise to his feet again and meet her gaze without fear, but with gratitude.

"Playing street corners?"

The comment has no bite. Kit saw Vincent's lyrics. Even without knowing how well his band performs together, he knows the other boy has too much talent to stoop so low. Probably, he's coming from practice or from playing a gig.

Strange... He's almost sorry he missed it.

Continuing with the same pace, his gaze roams the familiar street ahead. He doesn't come often to Hagu anymore, but not much has changed in a year. It's still the same seedy district it's always been, meaning that a lot of the avenues he'd taken to using as escapes before his stint in juvy still exist. They should be coming up on one shortly. An alley with lots of twists and turns behind various businesses, and a forked exit. Determining where they'd come out would be difficult for his pursuers.

"I have a more important question." His tone is perfectly smooth, like polished ice. "Will you follow my lead?"

Vincent's gaze remains on the world passing by before them, the picture of practiced apathy. There's no way for an outside eavesdropper to tell that they're discussing something a little more meaningful than the weather as he removes the spent cigarette from his mouth. Once again he douses it with his fingers, pocketing it rather than littering on the ground. Only then does he reply, focus still in front of him rather than on Kit.

"Guess you'll just have to find out." It's a strange sort of thing. They've spent only a scant number of hours together before now, and yet he's completely confident that his companion will be able to translate this difficult-seeming response into its proper meaning. Where had that trust sprung up from?

Everything had rushed past with almost staggering rapidity, but Reimi had seen it all. She'd been unable to tell whether the fox was part of his consciousness or an enemy like the tracer eye, and that hesitation had allowed it to maul Kit quite thoroughly. Orias' stances changes as the beast vanishes, glowing hands moving away from withheld attack spells to something more supportive.

Injury was a natural part of this world they'd both been drawn into. The ever-fresh scars on her own back were proof of that, twisting slickly even now beneath the fabric of her clothes. But that didn't mean that it was something to be suffered forever, or alone.

Without a word her persona drops a small smattering of spells upon her companion's head: Dia, for the pain, and an increase in his defense for what was certainly to come. Even as she returns his gaze with a thin smile, a part of her mind can already sense unpleasant creatures being attracted to the ruckus they were making. It was no deterrent, of course, but things seemed bound to turn ugly sooner rather than later.

"Family's important, isn't it?" Her words are soft and mingled with sympathy. She still remembers the blissful pain that had run through her body upon having her first family returned to her mind. "You can get to know her better if we climb through, I think."

Whatever spell Emily cast, it feels like being reborn. The pain vanishes along with the marks left behind by the fox...but the memories remain. The feelings that came with them, too. That creature was as desperate as Kit feels now, wanting to do whatever is within his power to maintain control of his life.

Even if that should mean stepping in a new direction and into the unknown...

"I wouldn't know," he answers even as he offers Emily a grateful nod and small, appreciative smile for her magic. That woman aside, he's never had a stable family that he can remember, and he doesn't know who his real parents are, has no memories of them from when he was younger, no photos or letters or anything else to go by. They're ghosts as far as he's concerned, maybe even less than that for all that they were never there.

Still...he thinks he wants to know Shiori. So he joins Emily near the opening even as more of those distant skreeeeees can be heard migrating in their direction.

Placing his hand upon her shoulder, he says gently but firmly...

"I'll go first."

"I suppose I will."

There is a reason Kit didn't ask if Vincent trusted him. Even if the other boy wouldn't have provided a straightforward answer, whatever response he did offer would have been telltale and reminiscent of the trust displayed that night at the Leviathan Habitat. Even Kit doesn't know where it sprang from, but he knows that even if it is still budding, it exists.

He gives no indication of what he's about to do, trusting Vincent to read his body language as well as he had during their fight. He slips nimbly into the alleyway he'd been looking for the moment they come upon it, a spring in his step that launches him into a sprint around any obstacles that bar their way: litter left to the wind, garbage cans that have been overturned or knocked over, or the odd cat that's startled into a low hissing crouch by their approach before it tears off out of sight.

The more quickly they move from this point on, the better their chances of slipping through their pursuers' fingers.

But carrying extra weight such as he is, will Vincent be able to keep up? Kit wonders as he tosses a look back at the other boy. The alley isn't full of simple hurdles, after all. It's an obstacle course, complete with a fence near the end that they'll need to scale. Clunky boots and a guitar will make the task more complicated.

Kit could leave him behind if it comes to that, perhaps even ensuring his own escape...but he won't. He owed him for helping him back to his own bed at the Habitat, and Kit pays his debts.

"Then it'll be good for you to find out."

To have people that you can rely on without thinking, whether that bond was forged in blood or experience...it was the most precious thing that Reimi could think of in any world. She's glad that Kit will have the opportunity to feel that now with a sincerity that might have been odd in anyone else. Few people felt deeply for relative strangers.

When he drops a hand on her shoulder she returns his words with a cheerful tone that belies the stubbornness burning in her eyes. A smile quirks up one side of her mouth as she links her arm with Kit's own; it's symbolic more than a true vice grip, easily escaped from whenever he wishes. "We'll go together."

He's been in one tussle too many to be unable to tell when someone's preparing to hightail it and run. Vincent swings into a charge almost instantaneously when the other boy suddenly makes a sharp turn, flying after him without a moment's pause. It's strange to be doing something like this with a partner, but in the exhilaration of the moment he finds that he doesn't mind at all.

Kit was right to worry about the perceived handicaps his companion was working with, but a quick glance back will find that even these are nothing in the face of his unrelenting stubbornness. Rather than take the logical approach of attempting to dodge the various barriers in their path he's instead chosen to run right through them. Empty cans crumple under those selfsame clunky boots, an arm lashes out to knock oncoming garbage cans out of his way, and the other clutches the strap of his guitar case flush with his body. With his posture bent the way it is to compensate for the burden on his back, it almost seems silly to imagine any of those could have been a problem.

This guitar had been purchased before he'd departed from his family's house, after all. It was hardly the first time he'd been forced to run with it.

The rapidly approaching fence will prove tricky, admittedly, but it was nothing that he couldn't handle. Vincent was confident his strategy wouldn't cause him to lose pace with his companion - and who knows? Perhaps he'd even pass him during the climb.

He shouldn't have doubted. Of course Vincent is able to keep up. This realization pleases Kit, though why it should isn't something he can answer at the moment and, given their current situation, decides it's also better not to dwell on.

There'll be time enough later.

For now, his focus should be concentrated on swiftly shimmying up the chain link fence at the far end of the alley and down one of it's many forked paths. The fact that his companion can not only keep up with him during his ascent, but even climb over the top first, is something that surprises Kit considering the other boy's burden, but after the way he'd flattened everything in his path leading up to that point, perhaps it isn't so surprising at all.

On the other side, Kit's feet have barely touched ground again before he's running. There are fewer obstacles now to bar their way, and within a few moments the mouth of the alley and the street behind finally come into view. There Kit slows down to a light jog, and then to a walk, and when he's certain they're alone, he turns to Vincent.

"I never got a good look at them, but someone has been following me since this afternoon. I think we've lost them now, though."

Come to think of it, if Vincent hadn't come along when he had, Kit had planned to confront them. What about the other boy's presence had made him change his plans?

Edited 2017-09-09 07:00 (UTC)

Kit makes no attempt to escape and instead finds genuine mirth returning to his laugh.

Beneath the shelter of his free hand, which rises to conceal his amused smile, he murmurs to himself, "Walk with me hand in hand."

The meaning of the cosmos flower. Bold and pink and symbolic of peace, it suits her far more than he'd realized before tonight, although that is something he'll keep to himself. For now, at least, especially as he steps through the large tear in his dream with her on his arm and what he believes more of those eyes fluttering after them from behind.

The other side reveals an ordinary looking scenery, albeit many, many miles away from Eddan in the country Japan. Kit recognizes it not so much from whatever this vision is, but from what he knows of the culture and has learned through his reading. Though it does seem familiar, particularly when he sees himself as an infant in Shiori's arms, as a toddler raised in her care, and a young boy too independent for his own good.

He feels the soul of the youko within him, biding its time until it will be strong enough to return to the Makai, but that desire changes one day when the woman saves his life...

As Kit looks on at the stupidity of this child that looks so much like him, his heart flutters in sync with guilt and concern for the mother whose arms are lacerated by glass but worries not for her own injuries, only his. She would give her life for him, he realizes. If he let her, she would gladly give it up. And that terrifies him.

In order to ensure that his case doesn't catch during the descent Vincent takes a large jump from the top of the fence, landing heavily before continuing the imaginary chase. Even after having overtaken the lead he's still able to follow his companion's directions through his peripherals, something he's never found himself able to do with anyone else. How strange.

Unlike Kit, there is no modulation in his speed when their path comes to an end. He skids to a stop instead, sliding almost half a foot before finally using up all his momentum. He takes a moment (less than he truly needs, out of pride) to catch his breath before replying, an eyebrow cocked in open interest.

"You must be losing your touch." He may be curious, but even that can't keep him from being an ass about things. Thankfully his expression settles into something a little more serious as he continues. "Any idea why they'd bother for that long?"

Reimi tilts her head a little to try and catch the muffled words, but fails to glean anything coherent from the attempt. She doesn't pry, however, perfectly content to have done...whatever it was she'd done to bring a little sincere brightness to his disposition. Moments like that would be precious tonight.

The prediction comes true almost forcefully as soon as they enter the next layer of Kit's memories. The setting before them is so much like Morioh in so many ways that she finds herself startled to the brink of tears; only the sudden shift to the more intimate setting of Kit's former home and a very determined set of blinking prevents the waterworks from beginning. God, she missed home so much.

It's easy to distract herself with the appearance of an incredibly adorable baby, which she makes certain to comment on to that effect to her companion. As time accelerates before them she falls silent out of respect, quietly watching events unfold. It's a little selfish, perhaps, but she sees so much of Rohan in this childish overconfidence.

Eventually she speaks again, her voice much softer and filled with an undefinable emotion. "...you're lucky."

"I wish it were so simple," Kit laughed, but he suspects that the truth is more complicated than that. It has to be. It's almost as if the ones giving chase knew him better than he knew himself, or they could predict what he'd been about to do. It seemed that the introduction of Vincent had been an anomaly they hadn't planned for. Or at least...that's his guess. Why else should they have been able to make such a successful escape?

It's not as if they make a good team or anything. Except...maybe they really do?

Maybe.

"You didn't see them either, did you?" But Kit suspects that Vincent recognized the feeling of being watched, just the same. It hadn't been as powerful as the feeling at the aquarium, but it was similar in the sense that it had been unrelenting for a time. Not otherworldly in that they'd managed to shake it, and that feeling is one that makes Kit feel both relief and pride. But perhaps there's some truth to Vincent's jab, after all? If he wasn't losing his touch, might he have seen those faces?

It's a thought for another day as he peeks around the corner and into the street.

"There are a lot of reasons someone might follow me, but whoever that was, they weren't aggressive, and that eliminates a lot of possibilities." After a moment, he shakes his head. "I'm afraid I can't really be sure why..."

And then he pauses. There is one reason why, perhaps. Maybe someone else had seen that symbol he'd noticed above his head earlier? Maybe it hadn't been a strange hallucination after all?

He glances back at Vincent curiously.

"...it may have to do with something they saw, though. But that's only a theory."

Vincent snorts at the question while his companion checks the street for possible threats, completely ignoring the fact that he'd been listening to the other boy's explanation with a surprising amount of focus. He continues to lie about his own actions and intentions by stating "I can't see what I'm not looking for."

He hadn't seen them, no, but it wasn't for lack of trying. How could he possibly have been unable to feel the same tension in another that had been running through him all day? It would have required more than willful blindness, and he has neither the time nor patience for such purposeful stupidity.

There's a snarky comment just begging to be tossed out about secret admirers when Kit voices Vincent's own wonderment over the strange way they'd given chase for so long without any attempts on his person, but thankfully his 'theory' catches his attention before it can emerge. After sharing the lively rush of an impromptu sprint, it would be a shame to let his poor personality ruin things.

"And what's theoretical about that? What they caught or whether they saw it at all?"

Make no mistake. Cesare loves his job, he just hates his boss, his boss' recipes and his boss' vision.

Oh wait.

Either way, as much as he would love to pretend that the apple abomination (which, unfortunately, will probably taste nice and adventurous to plebs) is not served in this place, he can not. He settles for a glare.

"Depends. Do you prefer dying a disappointment, or instant revitalization?"

She's definitely one of his least favorite customers, mostly because of the Unicorn Latte Incident which we will never talk about again, and countless lesser crimes. Which is... honestly what a lot of his customers do.

What can we say, he has very few favorite customers.

His generally annoyed expression shifts into one of disgust as she places her order (also nothing new, probably), and he stares at her for a couple seconds. It's like he almost wants to say something, but what is there to say? There's nothing that could possibly make this drink worse, not even caramel.

"You're aware you're literally buying diabetes in a mug, right?"

Is all he offers while turning to whip up the 'coffee' with cream foam hard enough to stick apple slices in.

For a moment, Cesare thinks that this is it. Whatever horror flick he'd accidentally gotten trapped in had reached a culmination, and he is getting murdered by some creepy child, a giant doll or a less stabby and more strangley version Freddie Krueger. There's a surprising lack of panic, though. As if he's not all that scared of death, and before that can properly set in, he recognizes the voice.

"Fuck! Don't do that!" He presses a fist into Reid's cheek half as a threat and half as a jest. "What if I kill you before I recognize you?!"

Because, you know, that could totally happen.

Cesare tries to wiggle out of the headlock, with a bite to his pal's arm if needed, so he can properly see whatever he's supposed to check out. Oh.

"What happened?"

Kit doesn't miss the way Emily responds to the dreamscape. More than the way her eyes glisten even if no tears escape down her cheeks, he can tell by the way she holds onto his arm. For reasons he cannot fathom, can only assume, she finds something here familiar. But it isn't him. She makes that clear when she pulls herself together again to tease him, and again after when she tells him that he's lucky.

For as much familiarity as she may have discovered in his dream, Kit senses a wonder at the newness, too. Perhaps the appeal is a home so far away from home? After all, if he can dream of being born in a country so far away, isn't it also possible that she could do the same?

What about any of that is fortunate is beyond him, of course. He feels like a fool for having been the one to cause Shiori to throw herself in harm's way for him. This woman who had done nothing but care for, protect, and love him...and this was how he repaid her.

"Perhaps," Kit answers quietly after a moment, "but I cannot say the same for her."

The spirit of that youko had stolen its way inside her and had overtaken the life of her unborn child. Not unlike the many families Kit had charmed his way into, but it always ended the same way. He takes so much from other people, but what has he ever really given back in return?

Something in the distance, glimmering faintly upon a pedestal, captures his attention. From where they are now, he cannot make it out clearly, except to discern that it must be a fragment belonging to another dream. Patting her hand, Kit starts in its direction.

"Let's go."

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Page 3 of 29

APPLE ORCHARDS AND TORN DREAMS [OPEN]

i've never heard of that, is it a noncanon light novel?

i feel like an unreachable dildo would just fruther his torment, not alleveiate it

yeah that's what i thought

sounds like the fate he deserves tbh

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for what, trying to wrestle the sun???

be careful or i can start talking about all the things that don't make sense between yomi and kurama

for strumming on lisa lisa's legs, that was a dick move

as a jojo's fan i have to be able to laugh at shit that doesn't make sense

BUT IT'S NOT BOWL OF RAMEN IN A SHEET OF PAPER KIND OF NONSENSICAL

are you kidding me that was amazing

i'm not saying it wasn't but it was still a dick move!

as if that's the only nonsensical araki does tho

NO DICKS ONLY GLORY

i don't want to talk about weather report

i can't tell if you sound more salty or wounded

your kars boner is showing

the answer is both. always both.

but the pillarmen so cool and all the heroes are so lame

of course, how could i forget

HE WAS MY FAVORITE AND NOW I CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT HIM ;A;

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ngl they really were the best part about battle tendency