APPLE ORCHARDS AND TORN DREAMS [OPEN]

[cordibus]

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.]

Comments

[whitefox]

[The groan hadn't gone unnoticed, and when sounds of his guest's movements did not desist entirely, quiet as Vincent may have been trying to be, Kit turned off the tap in the bathroom and wandered into plain view.

His clothes were changed, his hair tied back once more, and his hands bandaged already; were it not for the faint way they trembled in their attempt to hold onto a clean, damp cloth, he might have appeared as though he hadn't suffered any recent damage at all. Even the way he regarded Vincent, calm and understanding, seemed to suggest it was someone else he'd nearly asphyxiated in the park.

Nothing was said as he tossed the cloth to the other teen, its purpose obvious and not needing to be explained. The same could be said for the midnight blue sweater he pulled from his closet a moment later. The shirt Vincent was still wearing was stained and torn. Had he won their contest, he might have treated it like a trophy, but as it was, Kit thought he might appreciate being able to change into something a little less crusted with dirt and blood.

He came closer and held it out to him, still perfectly silent.]

[blacktemper]

[while it was unpleasant to have been found out at all, Vincent can at least be thankful that it happened by the time he'd managed to lower himself onto the ground. being caught in the middle of that careful navigation may have been too much for his ego to bear; as it was, he could accept staring up at his apparent host with his back gingerly leaning against the side of the bed.

he manages to catch the washcloth tossed at him, although not without cost. the reaction is slow and immediately regretted - without thinking he'd used the arm which had been so harshly bent and abused only hours before. there's no way he'll give the other boy the satisfaction of hearing him hiss, but the twinge on his face as his fingers close around the cloth is unmistakable.

when Kit approaches him with the sweater, however, he can't keep silent any longer. he looks up at him, expression caught somewhere between petulant and proud.]

I don't need a nursemaid.

[whitefox]

[Such petulance could be endearing at times, a window into the soul to glimpse the raging fire that burned within, but there was a time and a place, and Kit would have none of it, not now.

With his free hand he reached out and caught the arm that he'd brutalized earlier. His own gesture was not without a price to pay, his grip significantly weaker than it had been during their confrontation, but it seemed he still knew precisely where to stab the tips of his fingers in order to trigger pain or render a limb weak or even numb.]

Are you too proud to let me repay my debt?

[He released the arm again, but did not back down. Instead, he pushed the sweater in Vincent's direction again.]

You could have left me in the hallway in the Leviathan Habitat, but when I awoke, I was back in my bed. Or did you think I wouldn't notice?

[blacktemper]

[his arm is screaming, but he refuses to break eye contact with Kit for even something as trivial as a flinch. their gazes remain locked even as his jaw tightens, physically pushing down the pain threatening to overload his senses once more.

it's with untold relief that his companion finally relinquishes his grip, although Vincent is certain to take his sweet time in moving the arm to a more comfortable position. as evinced by his following words, it was clear that nothing escaped his 'partner's' gaze.

it would almost be admirable if it weren't so goddamn irritating.]

...hn.

[for a moment it seems as if he was still going to refuse the gift, but at least the silence breaks with an irate noise as he practically yanks the sweater out of Kit's hands. it settles peacefully in his lap while he goes to work pulling off his own mangled shirt with neither warning nor fanfare; given the intensity of their fight it would be wise to do this first so he could wipe everything down at once with the cloth.]

People don't remember their actions while they're unconscious. That's nothing new.

[it seems that he still hadn't given up entirely on the embers of his pride. despite having been directly called out on it, he refused to acknowledge that one weak moment of kindness.]

[whitefox]

[He was sorry for being so forceful when the sweater was yanked so roughly from his hand, but at least his point had been acknowledged. However, there was still one more debt to Vincent that Kit had left to pay and, giving his guest some privacy to clean up and dress, he wandered out of his bedroom to see to its fulfillment.

The dorm's kitchenette was small but well organized and very clean. Everything he needed was easily found, from an ice pack into which he dispensed fresh ice, to two cans of beer he'd pulled from a small pack in the mini fridge that had been gratefully supplied by someone he'd done business with last week. He didn't drink often, but every now and again as a reward to himself or simply to blunt a particularly sharp edge he would indulge.

Never enough to dull his senses or lose himself, and he would not supply his guest with that sort of luxury, either. But one drink...for the one he'd promised to buy him before.

When he returned to the bedroom, he offered the ice pack first with the instruction that it should be applied to his throat.]

You may not be the front man for your band, but that doesn't mean I want to see any lasting damage done.

[It was only after he had taken a seat on the edge of the bed and relieved his sore muscles from the burden of having to carry his weight that he held out the drink. It was as much a peace offering as it was evening the score.]

[blacktemper]

[it takes him longer than usual to complete such a simple task, thanks to the sorry state of his entire body. even removing his shirt had required a moment's pause before wiping away the crusted blood that seemed to have congealed on every available surface. he's more glad for the opportunity to clean up than he'd ever say - it's a strangely familiar relief to get Kit's blood out of his eyes completely.

by the time his host returns he's moved back onto the bed, more from how exhausting the mere idea of sitting back down on the ground had been than anything else. the sweater was too large for Vincent by more than a bit; he'd been forced to roll the sleeves up an unconscionable number of times to locate his wrists, and even then they still had a habit of sliding right back into place.

it's not something he acknowledges, even as he reaches out to take the ice pack with a skeptical look.]

I've told you before, it'd only be an improvement.

[Kit was the one who'd suffered real damage to his hands, after all. all of his own injuries would only increase the performative impact his band had.

but even with the flat correction, he obediently presses the ice pack against his throat. Vincent watches him with vague sharpness as the other boy settles onto the bed near him, expression barely shifting as he regards the beer.

there was a choice to make here, and they both knew it. the silence stretches out an intolerable length of time to the point where it seems that the decision has been made - only to be broken by a soft chuckle as he reaches out to take it.]

[whitefox]

[Theirs was a tentative and delicate truce, the sort that was born in an instant and tended to die just as quickly, dependent entirely upon the purpose it served and whether the struggle to maintain it was even worth the inconvenience.

But...it was still a truce.

Forged when they'd pooled together their knowledge to make an ofuda, and again when their fight had concluded before the Leviathan Habitat's sleeping quarters. Given life when they'd worked together to outrun whoever had been following Kit from Green Valley, and once more now when they were both too tired to continue fighting.

It truly was a satisfying sort of fatigue, though. As Vincent accepted his drink, Kit contemplated it as he struggled just to open his own can. If he'd refused to indulge his companion's temper and had better managed his own the way he'd done in the past, it was possible he'd have walked away from their few encounters mostly unscathed. And yet he found that he relished the way his body quivered from exhaustion and strain because it meant that he'd used it to its fullest. Knowing that, how could he possibly have any regrets?]

I'll have to verify for myself whether or not that's true one day.

[blacktemper]

[this was what he wanted out of life. a challenge so all-consuming that it left him feeling utterly depleted, unable to complete a task as simple as balancing an ice pack and drink at the same time. he'd lost, but the failure had left him feeling invigorated rather than irate.

it was a strange feeling, as was the excitement over knowing that he could attempt to remedy his past defeat whenever he liked. was this what people referred to as companionship? it seemed silly to even contemplate.]

Go ahead. Just don't expect any help from me.

[finally, finally he manages to fumble his way into getting the beer open. the faint satisfaction makes its way into the amusement in his voice as he takes a swig, more shallow than he'd like thanks to the severe trembling from his hands.]

[whitefox]

Cooperation? From you?

[Kit chuckled softly, shoulders shaking with the sound. Even that hurt, but in the same vein as all the rest of his injuries it was a fine ache for the way it reminded him he was alive. That was, perhaps, the root of his enjoyment of Vincent's company, too. The other boy had a way about him. He was completely unapologetic in how he challenged the world and it reminded Kit of when he'd been a little younger and a little bit more free to be himself.

It was far more intoxicating a feeling than any beer could ever prove to be.]

I don't expect you will ever make things easy for me.

[He never had and, as Kit felt certain their paths would continue to cross, their threads of fate inevitably intertwined, he was certain Vincent would continue to prove difficult. Such was his way.

Finally pushing open the tab on his can, he took a sip of the beverage. It was too little too late, however. There was no hiding his amusement behind the tin, nor his fondness. It seemed that Vincent's difficulty wasn't something he had any desire to see corrected...]

[whitefox]

It was a foolish question, and Kit's expression said as much.

He would see it all if he had the time and if he could be certain his sleeping body could handle the experience without dire repercussions. He wanted nothing more than to unlock the truth at once, to cease this meandering and to take for himself what clearly belonged to him. Being fed scraps was nothing short of cruel.

As if on cue, a glimmer of something silvery white appeared before them accompanied by a tall, darker shape. Kit stiffened instantly, not upon recognizing the youko's presence, but rather the deluge of regret that filled his heart when he was finally offered a glimpse the other's face. Sharp features and horns, long and pointed ears, and raven black hair. He had a cruel mouth, twisted with an insatiable battle lust, but there'd been a time when he had been one of Kurama's favorite people.

That was before he'd outgrown his usefulness and proven himself a liability.

The shapes before them grew separate and a third slipped into the vision. A lesser demon than the youko, but still strong enough to prove a threat to Yomi. And while Kurama had taken no pleasure in the act, he had nevertheless sent that monster to finish off his friend...

Scarlet splashed the darkness before him and Reimi, the result of long tracks left across Yomi's handsome face. He would survive, even though he had been left for dead, but he would never see again. And Kurama would continue on with his life as though the punishment doled out were no more than a sneeze, hardly worthy of his time, much less any deeper consideration. In fact, it would not be until much later in his life when the seed of regret sown in his heart would flourish...

"I'm sorry, it seems I'm not the person you thought I was."

[kokuyoyo]

What a charming title, but then again, is it any less on the noise than something like "the black market"? Chikusa keeps his eyes on the creature's movements even as Kit tries to work through his buried memories, waiting for a reaction. Any kind, it doesn't matter what. The shadowy foes it seems they're stuck fighting rarely do nothing, after all.

So it's no surprise when it darts forward, and Chikusa's crossbow jerks in kind, tracking it carefully. "You'll want to keep out of the way then," he murmurs, Astaroth's head following his gaze. If it's only one enemy so far, then... Anticipate has him move his crossbow suddenly ahead, firing off a Poisna right into the spot the Tracer goes next.

Judging by the burst of green light that sinks into the creature and how it wobbles off course, it's a success.

As an expert poisoner in his own right beyond this, Chikusa has no doubt that it'll eat through the creature in due time. So long as it stays away from Kit, that's the ideal. Adjusting his crossbow a bit, Chikusa keeps talking. "But you're a student, aren't you? That kind of thing isn't in the curriculum..."

[kokuyoyo]

No wonder he hates plants. Those kind of boring things... "Not all plants flower... And there are more that only have it as a part of the process before they bear fruit, which are more interesting." There's a pause as his gaze drifts, and he shrugs after a moment.

"And there are flowers which aren't made for brightening anything... and are actually dangerous. Although you probably won't handle those yourself..." The school probably doesn't want to accidentally murder a child, after all. "Have you been in the greenhouse?"

[kokuyoyo]

...Alright, maybe he's going to have to step in.

He's been content to let her stare and yell all she wanted to. The stronger the emotion, the easier it will be to remember, right? And yet it quickly becomes clear to Chikusa that Natsuru isn't going to be content with just that... He ducks beneath Astaroth's coils, moving forward to try and intercept before something can happen.

If this means firing off a spell to either her or the creature that's showed up, well, he's prepared to not mind that.

"You're not going to beat him as you are now," he says, readying his crossbow as Astaroth stays close to him.

[miseris_socios]

"I haven't, no. This is... my first time here. I just moved to town like... last week." But those kinds of plants sound nicer to deal with. Less like the things the girls coo over.

[kokuyoyo]

"I can show you it, then..." It'll be useful in more ways than one, and Chikusa leaves the flyers on the table. The younger members of the club can handle this. "I was only here to drop some things off, so..."

[miseris_socios]

"... All right." He's not all that interested, but he might as well. It'll get him away from the bustle of all of the clubs, anyway.

[blacktemper]

[yeah, there's no mistaking what the look on Kit's face is meant to convey. he gives the other boy a sharp look that hangs between them for several long moments before he seems to accept the sentiment with faint amusement of his own.

the idea of someone being fond of him was completely alien, now that he's forcibly parted ways with his parents. everything about his mannerisms and opinions are offensive, meant (intentionally or not) to put people off and keep them feeling vaguely hostile towards him. it was how he best understood how to interact with the world.

but the idea of Kit feeling endeared towards him...for whatever reason, it wasn't as repulsive as it should be.]

Why would I? You wouldn't be worth tolerating if I had to dumb everything down.

[it's a genuine statement, even if it's disguised as a joke to both of them. ...and even if Vincent deliberately gives Kit a mild jab with his elbow when he next lifts his beer to take another sip.

listen, just because he's accepted that sentiment from him doesn't mean he should be able to think he can keep doing shit like that.]

[kokuyoyo]

That's a fair enough answer, he guesses, and it's not like he's here for fight picking. Instead, he just fishes out his wallet, handing over his card with the appropriate amount of macca in it when Squalo is finally done. As it gets put through, he takes the drink and has a sip just to get to it.

There is a significant pause.

Significant as in that Cesare might have to throw the card at his head for him to actually snap out of it, although if he does or not will take a minute regardless. Eventually, he blinks. "....I think my heart stopped..."

So, mission accomplished?

[failedhandjob]

There's a tension in Reimi's body when the shadows materialize, but only at first; after such a close call she didn't have the luxury of assuming that this would simply be another memory. Her shoulders ease back into place once the scene begins to play out, but the solemn look in her eyes never leaves.

It's a tragic scene for all involved, but it doesn't seem as if she has any desire to back away from her companion in revulsion. She can't help but think how many times a similar scene must have played out in Morioh, however. The only use that Kira saw in women was as props to his childish fantasies. Once he'd removed the one part he needed, what were they if not liabilities?

It was both the same and not here in this moment, watching a man's life be torn so cruelly from him. Her chest aches in sympathy, but she can't find it within herself to feel disgust. Reimi wasn't so naive to think that this didn't happen every day in the world somewhere, human or not. But its occurrence wasn't what was most important.

When she turns to look at Kit (not Kurama, not yet) her expression is still unreadable. She regards him silently for a moment, hands resting atop one another, before gently shaking her head in the negative.

"No, that's only ever happened once." And she had already paid the price for that.

His past life had been fraught with callous acts. There was no denying this, and it would be insultingly foolish to even attempt to do so. But it was clear that at some point even Kurama himself would learn the weight of both his actions and regret - and the view of the entire path was what Reimi was concerned with, not a single cobblestone.

[secretmakesawoman]

Christina closes her eyes for a moment, then smiles. Her brows are still knit with confusion though.

"I suppose I was mistaken then. My apologies. I could have sworn..."

She rests a finger on her lip, still deep in thought. Absentmindedly, Christina starts to walk towards the vanity. It feels like she's drawn towards it. However, the two cloaked heroes are in her path.

She pauses once she's a foot away. "Excuse me," Christina says as polite as can be. Despite her puzzled state, her manners are warm as ever. "May I?"

[kokuyoyo]

With nothing much else to do, Chikusa trails after her. He's in no particular hurry. There's only so much he can do as a student right now, after all.

"Maybe that's why we were referred to the orchard that one time." He shrugs slightly. "Or maybe it's just coincidence. It's a common enough flavor... right?"

[spoilsfun]

As she approaches, Shinichi takes a step back, bringing himself closer to Ran. It was just enough to stay out of arm reach from Vermouth.

"Perhaps you're mistaking me for someone else."

[kokuyoyo]

"This way, then." It's easy for him to navigate the crowd through to the doors, and he glances back at the boy to make sure he doesn't lose him. "...I'm Ciro Bonavida."

Since that's information he should probably give.

[miseris_socios]

He's keeping up fairly well, despite his disadvantage with the short legs and all. "... Riki Itsumi. Sixth year, Primary Cycle. ... I guess the outfit gave it away, though."

He's still not used to that. Sure, he's worn a uniform before, but they were different.

[possedere]

Mukuro wasn't one for physical touches, and usually kept a healthy space between him and even his beloved subordinates, but Faustino would have no problem taking a pretty girl's arm, so he did so without comment or hesitation.

"Does it involve more theft?" He murmured it low enough for only her ears to hear, his lashes lowered and his lips quirked upwards lightly. He was curious to see her reaction.

He glanced up when she gestured pointedly with the tilt of her head that she wanted an apple, laughing lightly. "If you want something, perhaps you should use your words. It's easy to misunderstand otherwise." Not really, but Mukuro just liked to be contrary.