tornheart | APPLE ORCHARDS AND TORN DREAMS [OPEN]

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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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[the toothless complaint causes Vincent to laugh, breath causing the other boy's hair to dance in the wind once more. if anything he seems to be proud of the accusation, overly pleased at being obtuse to the point of distraction.

nothing pleased him more than knowing that someone was having a hard time because of him...except maybe this. he lets out another contented exhale as Kit's weight settles more closely against him, the sort that someone makes at the end of an intensely satisfying stretch. without much thought he tugs their intertwined hands slightly, moving them just enough so that his arm was more cozily wrapped around the other boy.

this was nice. all of this was very nice.]

Flowers aren't gonna cut it.

[His arm was...oh.

Kit blinked down at their clasped hands resting now along his collarbone, suddenly more aware of Vincent than he'd been a moment ago. He'd thought he could enjoy the closeness for a few more minutes, but already this was...he should stop this.

Just as soon as Vincent stopped breathing against his hair like that...]

What have you got against flowers?

[unfortunately for the better half of Kit's senses, his companion doesn't seem to have any intention of halting in the near future. in fact he nuzzles in a little closer in his attempts to readjust and make his head even more comfortable, triggering new sensations into the other boy's lovely hair when he responds once more.]

Nothing, really. You're just going to need something bigger than that, that's all.

[Kit cleared his throat, the soft sound intended to disguise the deeply contended sigh that had wanted to emerge in its place. He really needed to get up and put a bit of distance between them. There was the beer cans to consider. Those had to be rinsed and returned to the case for disposal later. But that meant forsaking his comfort and...

...and it was a little strange that someone as violent as Vincent was so cuddly. Almost as if he'd been starved for affection for a very long time.

Considering this, Kit finally unlaced their fingers and turned around to better face the other teen. On his knees, in between Vincent's own, he was better able to look him in the eyes and to see for himself how...innocent he almost looked. And sleepy. Probably, he was as unused to liquor as Kit was.

That thought amused him and, as he placed his hands gently against Vincent's cheeks, he teased...]

What about a very large flower?

[Or a whole garden. He did have access...]

[it was an unnecessary cover on Kit's part; with his head as filled with cotton as it currently was, there was almost no way that his companion would have noticed the slip, let alone been able to ascertain its meaning. he was struggling enough just to keep up a coherent train of thought long enough to continue participating in this conversation.

he'd hit the nail right on the head in one aspect, at least - Vincent's lowered inhibitions were finally allowing him to indulge in the sort of affection he'd nearly forgotten the feel of by now. it's also why he lets out a low growl of dissatisfaction when he finds his hand pried free of its partner, the unhappiness making its way into the petulant look he levels at the other boy as his face is softly cupped.

this was nice too, there was no doubt about that. but it didn't quite manage to quell the sleepy outrage he felt at not being able to squeeze that soft hand whenever he pleased.]

That'd violate your beauty rule.

[because of course when someone says 'large flower' and 'beautiful' to him he immediately starts thinking of corpse plants. some things even alcohol couldn't change.]

[At first, Kit didn't seem to ascertain the meaning behind Vincent's words, and then it hit him almost as strongly as would have the scent of the aptly named corpse plants.]

I would not be the least bit surprised if the botanical engineers in Eddan have created a variety of those plants that smell of roses instead.

[But, by the expression he wore and the way he shook his head, it appeared that while Kit was fascinated by the idea, he also hoped such a thing hadn't been attempted. Part of the beauty of those plants was their unique odor. It wasn't pretty by any means, but that was nature, a two-faced entity through and through. And to strip away the very thing that defined anything living, sentient or not, would be beyond despicable.]

A real one wouldn't violate my rule, though. As I recall, apart from their smell, those plants are rather fantastical and pleasant to look at.

[With the other boy's face still cupped between his hands, Kit brought Vincent's face closer to his own, pressing their foreheads together.]

Of course, if I can't find any here, then I'll have to find something else to show you.

Waste.

[if the ill-tempered mumble is anything to go by, it seems that Vincent holds similar opinions on genetically engineering plants. the brutality with which the ugly little things faced the world was what he admired most about them, after all - what point would there be if they weren't so openly defiant?

he doesn't share the belief that there was anything conventionally pleasant about viewing them, however. the expression on his face hints at an oncoming protest which is almost immediately stifled by finding himself forehead to forehead with Kit. much as he'd prefer not to on the grounds of stubbornness, this really did more than make up for the lost handholding.]

You wish. There's nothing in this city you could show me that I'd think was beautiful.

[although he was currently in possibly the most comfortable place in the city right now. as if wanting to lock in his approval of the new position, Vincent's now freed arms come up to wrap loosely around the other boy's neck. it was nice, as was the potential to pull him closer if he so wished.]

That sounds like a challenge.

[And, as Vincent's arms encircled him, it felt like one, too. It was a reminder that he'd wanted to put distance between them for their own good, but now he would have a much harder time extricating himself. Worse still, he was already less inclined, the warmth provided by Vincent's arms around his shoulders being quite pleasant, much like being able to look so deeply into the other boys eyes. He'd never noticed before what a brilliant hue they were.

Like twin jewels...they were completely beguiling.

Staring too long into them meant abandoning what was best in favor of what seemed most satisfying and, as he dropped one hand to Vincent's thigh to support his weight when he leaned even closer, Kit ghosted his lips across Vincent's cheek to whisper in his ear...]

I accept.

[even in his impaired state, the feeling of the other boy's lips against his skin is enough to raise goosebumps across his entire body. were they always so pleasingly smooth? the fact that Vincent would have no way of knowing before now completely escapes him.

there's something rising up in his chest other than contentment, but he can't quite place it. maybe if he were more sober - or maybe if he were more open with his own desires at any point in time. whatever the strange feeling was, he knew for certain that he didn't want to relinquish it.

it's why he cants his head to the side to catch Kit as he was pulling back, lips nearly pressed against his own. they brush occasionally when he speaks, voice low and filled with that familiar overconfidence.]

What do I get when I win?

[Each subtle brush of Vincent's lips against his own when he spoke caused Kit's hand to squeeze his thigh tighter, fingertips kneading through the fabric of his pants. He could taste the beer on Vincent's breath. Without having an opportunity to sour, the aroma was just as intoxicating as the liquor itself, tempting Kit closer between his knees until he was practically pressed against him. The hand on his cheek wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers raking through his short hair. He wanted...

...what he needed was a little fresh air to clear his head. His moments of clarity and inhibition were becoming few and far between.

But what he wanted was a kiss.]

What do you want if you win?

[that was more than pleasant. Vincent's breath shudders gently at the feeling of the other boy's fingers working their way along his thigh, a sharp pang of heart curling in the bottom of his stomach.

what did he want? more of this. without really thinking his knees press around Kit's sides, pulling him across those final few inches separating them. carefully, to keep from disturbing the feeling of his hair being caressed, he rests his forehead against the other boy's.]

A little closer...

[was that his answer or a request? it was likely that even Vincent himself didn't know. but the only significant part of the two that hadn't come together was their mouths, which continues to tickle and tantalize Kit.

finish what he started, his eyes dare him. take what he wanted or resign himself to a lifetime of this torture.]

Closer...

[For a few moments it seemed as though Kit might obey. He could scarcely tear his eyes away from Vincent's, especially when they were arguably the only thing in the whole room worth his undivided attention. His breath quickened the closer their mouths got, lips parting in anticipation every time they brushed, and it was torture, the sort he was torn between wanting more of and wanting nothing to do with.

In the end, however, Kit couldn't bring himself to act on that impulse, not even with a head full of alcohol. What he wanted was dragged down somewhere deep and buried inside, leaving him physically exhausted and outwardly discontent.

He didn't pull away from Vincent or fight the way the other boy's knees caged him, however. He opted instead to turn his head away and to press his face into the curve of Vincent's neck, as if that space were some sort of fiery sanctuary from all of this.]

[Kit's not the only one dissatisfied with his decision. his jilted companion lets out a noise that was likely supposed to be a growl but comes out more like a petulant whine. if the weight of his face on his neck weren't so irritatingly wonderful he'd shove him off immediately just to be a brat.

instead he takes his revenge in what is ultimately a much more devious manner. Vincent rests his own head against the other boy's soft hair, taking a few moments to breath in that heady scent before moving to take his earlobe carefully between his teeth.

he doesn't bite down very hard. just enough to make his presence known, and to occasionally roll it to and fro. no reason.]

[The moment Kit felt Vincent's teeth graze across the soft surface of his earlobe, two things happened simultaneously. The first was the way one hand knotted firmly in Vincent's hair while the other roamed higher across his thigh. And the second was how his breath caught, the sound elicited from him something between a gasp and a sigh...

It was a sound he instantly stifled against the base of Vincent's throat.

Probably, if moments like these came with their own sound effects, a siren would be blaring for them right now. This was dangerous. Sweet, but in no way healthy.]

[the reaction caused Vincent to squirm, although certainly not in any direction that would carry him further away from his companion. the touch was more than welcome, even as it excited him in a way that he must know was dangerous.

he should be stopping, not tilting his head so that Kit's hand pulled even more pleasantly against his hair. certainly not relishing in the vibrations of the other boy's masked sounds of delight against his bare skin. he was on fire, of that there could be no doubt.

continuing would be a poor idea, but those seemed to be the building blocks of his life. determined to hear that sound again, to see how high he could make that hand jump, Vincent gently relinquishes his hold on the other teen's earlobe, allowing his teeth to slide tantalizingly down until the skin was free. he turns his lips instead to pressing open-mouthed kisses along Kit's exposed neck; occasionally he drunkenly misjudges his force and nips a little, but that could only add to the experience.]

[Every time Kit thought that this had gone on long enough he found some other reason to hold out just a little bit longer. The comfortable way they fit against one another. The warmth of Vincent's arms around him. The intoxicating scent of wildfire that clung to the other boy. The way his short hair slid through Kit's fingers, dark as night and soft for all that it was a little coarse.

The way he squirmed at his touch...used his teeth...

It was that very thing that rendered Kit so weak, his own mouth trailing upwards towards Vincent's ear with every nip, along his jaw at every heavy breath that floated across his skin, and nearer to his mouth with every sigh. He knew what he wanted. Was hunting for it, and with a tug of that hair he tilted the other boy's head back so that kiss could finally be all his.

...and it would have been if it weren't for the sudden knock at the door.

Kit nearly jumped at the sound, his head whipping around and preventing any kind of liplock from taking place. And when the knocking persisted, he muttered something like "not now" under his breath before deciding he'd need to see who it was. Awkwardly, he rose to his feet with both hands blindly feeling over Vincent's thigh and front for support. Standing was much more difficult than kneeling had been...]

[the sound that escapes Vincent's mouth now is definitely a full-fledged growl, like a wild animal that's just been denied its meal. his irritation only escalates when the other boy's attempts to rise cause his hands to press up against injured tissue and...areas that were sensitive in other ways.

thankfully he has just enough good sense left to hold still and act as a brace for Kit before making any sort of attempt to stand up himself. although his voice is barely a mumble, the stormy look in his eyes makes the words clear even if they render themselves inaudible.]

I'll kill them.

[His companion's reaction ought to have sobered Kit for the way it threatened whoever was at the door, but instead it elicited an eruption of laughter. The very idea that they had both gotten so carried away from a few drinks of beer that they had almost completely lost themselves in the moment...it was too funny.

It was something else, too. Something Kit didn't dare think about. But if he had, he might have found his mind dwelling on the fact that he never would have anticipated the violent spark between them could be something more.

With a gentle pat to Vincent's cheek, Kit carefully maneuvered his way around the living room furniture and towards the front door. Opening it revealed a small cluster of people, one of whom owned a particularly loud and enthusiastic voice. Thrusting a paper flyer at Kit and shouting something about a 'quad-becue' to celebrate school spirit, the miniature cheer team told him to come and invite his parents before they were off again.

Slowly shutting the door, Kit looked back at Vincent then and waggled the flyer between two fingers. It wasn't a bad idea. Or at least not the worst one he'd had. If nothing else, food would help absorb some of the alcohol out of their systems. And, more importantly, all of it was free.]

Still hungry?

[school spirit. god, what bullshit. it wasn't even the right time - seasonally or in the semester - for that kind of garbage anyway. as soon as that awful voice stopped ringing painfully in his ears Vincent was more determined than ever to pull someone's voicebox out.

when look he casts at Kit over his proposition was perhaps the most baleful expression a human face could withstand before contorting itself out of existence. when he speaks, he can't keep the sulk out of his voice.]

Not for that.

[but clearly whatever had been happening just moments before was irrevocably finished. even in his inebriated state he could easily sense that there was no going back now.

even so...he was actually pretty hungry. Kit's fridge had produced a poor yield, liquor aside. the idea of vacuuming up a couple grills' worth of meat was more than a little tempting; despite his having already turned the invitation down, he begins slowly getting up off the couch.]

[Vincent's response elicited a loud laugh from Kit, the meaning behind those three words perfectly clear. But he only had one thing to say to such a sentiment, himself...]

I think we might have had too much to drink.

[It was the only explanation for any of what had just happened, or at least, it was the only one he would allow himself to consider. Even if, in his inebriated state, he still thought what they had nearly done was tempting, he knew better than to think too much of it. If they'd been sober, nothing of the sort would have happened. They'd sooner have wound up brawling one another again.

Amused by the thought, shoulders shaking with mirth, he made his way back towards the living area and towards Vincent, gently pushing the poster against his chest and then pushing the other boy back down onto the couch again.]

They know me...so I'll go and bring us something back. Can I trust you to wait here?

Maybe you have.

[his brash mutter had its feet almost immediately cut out from under it as Vincent finds his wobbly stance completely decimated by a simple push. he hits the couch with an aggravated huff, staring up at Kit with all the petulance of a toddler denied ice cream after dinner. despite all this he seems perfectly content to hold onto the flyer all the same.]

You don't even know what I like.

[as if that really mattered. anyone who'd had even one meal with Vincent would know that he was willing to consume anything and everything in his path so long as it was vaguely edible.]

[Seeming to read Vincent's mind, though it wasn't hard after seeing the way he disposed of anything remotely edible whether he liked it or not, Kit laughed.]

As long as you can eat it, right?

[Implying that was the only standard Vincent had was mean...but it was also true.]

If that isn't good enough, you can always tell me what you like.

[it's too late to keep him from taking offense; with another sour look he decides that Kit isn't even worth the dignity of eye contact and instead lays down on the couch petulantly. for a long moment it looks like the other boy isn't even going to get a response, but the allure of food causes him to finally relent.]

Burgers. Sausages, if they have them. Baked potato. Corn if they don't fucking incinerate it. ...hot dogs are fine, too.

[another pause, and then:]

Pile everything they've got on them.

[so, basically, anything he can fit in his mouth.]

Oh, that's an easy order to fill.

[Chuckling to himself, Kit made his way back to his bedroom to change his shirt and grab his wallet, the long sleeves of his larger sweater better hiding the bandages on his hands. When he emerged again, he shot the other boy a teasing smile before proceeding towards the door to slip on his shoes.]

Let me see if I've got this right. Basically every form of barbecued meat and carbohydrates, but more condiments than anything else?

[...he was still bloody chuckling.]

What refined tastes.

I wouldn't expect a rabbit to understand.

[he's seen the inside of your fridge, Kit. you have absolutely no room to be judging anyone for their culinary tastes.

to underscore what a hypocrite he was, Vincent finds enough energy within himself to send a pillow hurtling right towards the other boy's head. it's pretty impressive aim when you consider how inebriated he currently is.]

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