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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[the sudden movement of his conversation partner was faintly alarming, but he regarded it with an expression more akin to annoyance than anything else before she took hold of him. the thought that he'd have to push her back down if she kept shifting like that completely flies out of his mind, as if it had never existed.

if Vincent were to be mistaken for a statue right now, it wouldn't be terribly far off. his entire body has gone stock still, eyes as wide as a deer staring down its oncoming demise. he can't even feel his own heartbeat.

a mother's touch is powerful, but her wishes even more so. he'd stopped allowing his own mother to get anywhere near him almost a year before he'd run off and it had been even longer since he'd heard her tell him she wanted to see him happy. this wasn't meant for him - it was all for Kit, he knows - but the simple gesture strikes him somewhere so vulnerable that is incites physical pain.]

I already told you, you're asking the wrong person.

[...]

But if you're going to be such a pain in the ass about it then I guess that mistake's on you now.

[With a soft smile, Aria's hand migrated upwards from the sleeve of the jacket wrapped around Vincent and to his cheek. She was as warm as he was, but all her fire came from a gentler place.]

That is a mother's burden to carry, but I don't believe it is a mistake.

[No, the real mistake was forcing herself to sit up. With a faint tremble, her hand withdrew and she attempted to lower herself back to her bed. Kit would worry so much if he knew she was pushing herself, and he would blame himself or even his friend. She couldn't allow that. As she had told Vincent already, such things were meant for a mother's shoulders. She had to believe this was the right thing. She had to have faith.

As she settled back against her pillow, her breathing a little heavier from exerting herself, she did her best to smile again at the small teen next to her bedside. She didn't even know his name. That was the real tragedy here.]

Thank you.

[Because, for all his sullenness, he hadn't really said no.]

They're probably wondering where you are by now. I won't keep you any longer.

[the touch would have made him jerk back violently if it hadn't also shut down Vincent's brain. he simply stares at her, aghast, unable to process what exactly is unfolding here. what kind of person just went around fondling strangers, let alone ones that looked like serial killers fresh off the job?

for all her trouble Aria doesn't even get a reply to her gratitude; he's too shaken up for anything but a cranky grumble. his steps are distracted as he turns to move towards the curtain, however, and after a few moments he's turning on his heel again.]

You obviously need this more than I do.

[in one hand is his erstwhile lyric book, pulled from his back pocket. in the other, outstretched so as to not force the woman to sit up again, is an ofuda.

he has no idea why he's doing this. what he should be doing is sprinting down the hall before this crazed woman can call him back again, but...this was what felt right. and when had Vincent ever denied himself that?]

[Aria wasn't sure what the piece of paper was, or even what was written on it, but the thought was sweet and she accepted the token from Vincent gratefully. No doubt Rey would be able to tell her later what the script said and what purpose it fulfilled. In the meantime, it would be unacceptable to refuse anything given from this boy to her in any display of kindness. Especially when it seemed such things were so rare.

Her fingers had only just barely touched the paper when she saw the curtain behind Vincent rustle...and then draw silently open.

It seemed in the brief time he'd been gone, Kit's expression hadn't improved and his pallor had worsened. His eyes were still sharp, however. And, standing there, the first thing he noticed was the ofuda Vincent was passing to his foster mother.

He wondered...would she recognize his writing in Japanese? Would it even matter if she did? The amulet hadn't done much to protect Vincent and him so far, but if it could keep her safe from harm, then Vincent had the right idea.

...he was startled by that thought, so much so that he completely forgot the reason he'd come back to the ward and instead, muttering a hasty promise to his mother that he would see her in the morning, he grabbed Vincent by the back of jacket and dragged him away from her bedside and behind the curtain.]

[the sudden appearance of his companion comes as a surprise, not in the least of which because Vincent is so wrapped up in this ill-advised display of vulnerability that he fails to hear the curtains shuddering behind him. he only has the sudden sound of a murmured promise to serve as a warning before he's hoisted out of the enclosure unceremoniously.

his hands instantly fly up to try and pry the interloper off, teeth grit in an ugly grimace. if they weren't so close to Aria's 'room' still he'd be aflame with obscenities, but thankfully a little bit of common sense has decided to continue tagging along for the time being.

how the hell was his luck so consistently awful? the only somewhat personal action he decides to take and Kit walks right into the middle of it.]

[As they headed towards the ward exit, Kit's fingers unrelenting in their hold upon Vincent's collar, Rey appeared before them. It seemed he'd been just as curious as Kit as to what had been taking the other boy so long, and rather than wait as his son had asked him to do, he'd followed along behind with a tray of coffees. Like a true concerned dad, but also one who was very much regretting whatever it was he was looking at now.

Why was his son such a rowdy boy? They shared a love of books, why couldn't they also share mild-mannered behavior?

He sighed and shot Vincent a look as if he was the culprit, but the moment his gaze settled on all those piercings he sighed again and looked away. By that time Kit's hands had withdrawn and Vincent was free...to accept Rey thrusting a coffee in his direction.

"It was Kit's idea." He said like he hadn't actually promised before to buy them all coffee. As if sensing his son's protest, he looked at Kit and attempted to adjust his glasses by wriggling his nose. "I take it you're leaving now?"

Kit nodded and Rey mirrored the gesture with his own bobbing head, passing the teen the coffee he'd left behind earlier.

"Alright. Be safe." After a moment, as he started past the two boys, he added with yet another over-exaggerated exhale, "That goes for the both of you."]

[it's an excellent thing that Rey had acted when he did, because father's eyes on them or not Vincent had been winding up to slug his companion the moment that he was released from the vicelike grip. instead he finds a cup of coffee in his hands, which he stares at with bemusement for a few moments.

whoever's idea this was, he's not a fan. free things were only acceptable when he'd taken them for himself, not when they'd been given to him as an act of charity - or worse, gratitude.

the look he shoots Kit's father's way as he departs with that particular remark is equal parts suspicion and bafflement. there was absolutely some wrong with this entire picture. now more than ever he was really regretting not letting the other boy go alone and just murder someone on the way.]

[For all that Kit and his foster father had in common, neither of them found it particularly easy to talk to the other. Perhaps that was why when words finally were exchanged between them, they both knew they were sincere, chosen carefully even if they were sometimes spoken a little clumsily.

Rey cared as much as Aria. He wasn't as skilled at conveying his feelings, his closest confidants aside from his wife being the books he oversaw at the college, but his feelings ran deep. Nothing less could have ever attracted to his side a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve the way his wife did.

Which meant that for once Kit was obliged to listen to him the way he listened to his foster mother. The pair of them had enough to worry about with her staying overnight at the hospital. They didn't need to be concerned for his safety, too. And, knowing Aria, she would insist that Rey called the landline to make certain both boys were there at some point. Because at least one of them knew how to proper parent.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Kit glanced sidelong at Vincent as his father disappeared behind him. And then he froze. He hadn't noticed at first, not with the way Vincent's back had been to him when they'd been standing so near to his mother, but the other boy's collar was exposed now, that bite mark...

Had she seen it?!

He swallowed his mouthful of coffee hard and cleared his throat.]

So...what did she want to talk with you about?

[tangled up in his own self-directed anger and regrets, he doesn't realize that Kit's staring at a particular spot on him rather than in simple aggravation. he tests the quality of the coffee idly, only sparing a glance his companio's way when he asks that question.]

She thinks we're friends.

[he says this accusatorily, as if this were the other boy's fault - and really, it was. the lie may have been a joint one, but they both knew that Aria was too sharp to believe it unless she'd sensed some genuine evidence. there's only one place that could have come from.]

[Kit made a face.

That didn't tell him at all what Aria had wanted, unless Vincent meant to imply they had talked about the two of them being friends? He sounded like Rey as he sighed into his coffee cup, thinking to himself that he should have insisted Vincent stay behind at the dorm so they both could have avoided all of this.

It was too late for that now, however. With a shake of his head, Kit started into the hall and in the direction of the nearest exit.]

I'm sorry. She gets the silliest ideas sometimes.

[But what could he have told her otherwise? If she'd thought Vincent was some fling or someone who was dangerous, it would have caused her undue amounts of stress.

...not that the former wasn't true.

Or was it?

Another sidelong glance was stolen in Vincent's direction as he tried to decide. What had prompted the other boy to come along with him to the hospital? What had possessed him to give the ofuda to his mother? Was it possible that Vincent...

No, absolutely not. He may have been inexperienced, clearly so in some instances, but he wasn't an idiot. A little fooling around wouldn't have been enough to give him the wrong impression about what they were, especially if Vincent thought Kit still didn't know his name. But then, how was he to explain the strangeness of his companion's choices?]

They should check her for a concussion again.

[it's a half mutter, half reply spat grimly into the lid of his coffee. that woman really had some nerve, asking somebody like him to watch out for the world's only passively suicidal fox. the only explanation for his having accepted the request could be total inability to believe what he was hearing.

...even so, he pulls the borrowed jacket a little tighter around himself as they approach the exit and the chilly evening air. it was getting colder out these days, that was all.]

[She had hit her head, Kit thought, but Aria Gardener was more discerning than most people gave her credit. There was a reason she handled the shelter's most abused patients where she worked. Her ability to communicate with the lost and wounded was unparalleled. Even Kit, who was similarly good with animals, marveled at the ease with which she seemed to be capable of making friends with those everyone else would deem a lost cause. A bump on the head wouldn't be enough to dull her senses.

No, whatever she had seen in Vincent...that was based on something real. And Kit had been afraid of that from the start because it meant that she had seen the same thing in him, too. But so long as neither of them admitted it aloud they were free to deny it, and if they denied it long enough...maybe whatever it was really would just go away.

A good start to that might have been sending Vincent in the opposite direction as him as they stepped outside into the chilly night air, but Kit didn't seem to be finished making bad decisions.]

My parents don't live far from here. We can walk.

I'm not staying there.

[he says, turning along with Kit to continue walking alongside him. there was an actual purpose to this aside from self delusion, however - like some strange version of a boyfriend, he wanted to see his companion home without incident. with night upon them now the likelihood of an issue rearing its head had skyrocketed, and he thought it would be such a shame to ruin their perfect record right at the end.

it was pretty far from both Hagu and Green Valley, but the prospect didn't daunt Vincent in the slightest. with the pleasant chill in the air a night under the stars might prove to be quite invigorating.]

[Unfortunately for the both of them, Vincent's reply left Kit feeling mildly chafed, particularly after the remark the other boy had made about his mother and the rest of the day up until that point. It seemed the more time they spent near each other, the more complicated things became. Maybe it really would be better if they split up here. He could deal with Aria's disappointment. At least he'd have what was left of the night to indulge in some peace and quiet for...

...how long had they been hanging around each other now? Between the fighting and the alcohol, it almost felt like an entire week had been crammed into the span of a few exhausting hours.]

Don't trouble yourself.

[He took a sip of his coffee, still walking but his stride that of someone prepared to leave another behind. Maybe even trying. The thought of having some time alone away from everyone and everything was almost like a siren's call in the night.]

If you're not staying, you don't need to follow me.

[his gait remains the same, refusing to acknowledge the potential threat as anything worth preparing for, but the way that Vincent leans forward as he walks indicates a man more than ready to see this through to the bitter end. whatever that may entail.]

Little late for that, don't you think?

[it was so easy to blame decisions like this on his eternally burning stubborn streak. even Vincent, who purportedly knew better, was tempted to be lulled into such a believable excuse.]

Not really.

[Kit didn't bother to look at the other boy. He didn't even need to hear his footsteps next to him to know Vincent had not and would not falter in keeping the pace. It galled him to consider that the reasons for both might be one and the same.]

I lied about who you were, I can lie about why you had to leave, too. It doesn't matter.

[With his free hand, Kit gestured vaguely in the direction of the first turn they came to, gloved hand nearly invisible in the dark of the street but for the faint outline cast by a distant streetlamp.]

Train station is that way. There's usually cabs parked right outside.

If it doesn't matter then I'll do whatever I feel like.

[and what he feels like, apparently, is continuing on down this path forged almost entirely out of bad decisions. Vincent continues on at his wayward companion's side, passing the turn for the station without so much as a second glance. he does make a mental note of its location, however, in case he decides to slip away in the morning.

there were a lot of choices being made tonight that he didn't completely understand himself. it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that they'd look absolutely horrendous come daylight.]

[Even Kit could see the futility in continuing to argue. For whatever reason, his companion was determined to see him to his parents' home and rob him of whatever reprieve he might have found there. If only Vincent had just taken that turn...

The house wasn't far, as promised. Nestled into the back of a suburban court flourishing with greenery, it stood apart from its neighbors for being the only property lacking a picket fence. Instead, beautiful stonework fringed the yard along with groomed bushes, tall trees, and a paved walkway bordered by bright pink flowers that led all the way up to the front door. Truly, it was a lovely home...

One Kit seemed to look upon with as much objection as he did his companion. Seemingly stuck between a rock and a hard place, he approached the front door and produced the keys his father had given him. Even with his unfamiliarity with the home he had the lock opened quickly and quietly, the door held open for the other boy to enter first. Or to refuse and finally leave him in peace.]

[this was his self-imposed end of the line, wasn't it? he'd kept the other boy from venting his angst on the skulls of the nighttime riffraff as he'd promised and now there was nothing preventing him from returning home. it was only a few blocks away from a comfortable cab ride...

Vincent's stepping into the entryway before he can even complete the thought.

it was simple curiosity, he rationalized. this was likely the only time he'd ever be allowed to set foot in the domain of Kit's stepparents; it would be foolish to waste such an opportunity. once he'd indulged himself and cast a little judgement on their decorating tastes he could be on his way.]

[Curiosity or not, Kit's expression darkened when Vincent stepped inside, but his anger was directed as much at the other boy as it was at himself. Why didn't he just take back his jacket already and tell him to get lost? Wasn't it decisions like this which had led to the incident earlier? As well as his not picking up his phone the first time his father had called...

Was he so self-destructive that he was willing to repeat his mistakes?

As he closed the front door behind Vincent, he supposed he had his answer.

Removing his shoes at the door, Kit padded quietly through the foyer. The only rooms he supposed would be of any importance to Vincent would lie at the end of the hall: the powder room, living room, and the kitchen. Kit led him straight there, deliberately failing to mention the door on the left from the foyer that led to his bedroom.]

Couch is there. Television is there. If you're hungry, you may as well eat. My mother will probably be expecting as much.

[...and that was all he said before he turned to leave back the way he'd come.]

[the house is smooth and tidy. it's the first thing that springs to Vincent's mind as he instinctively sheds his shoes and is led by the nose to all of the designated points of interest. it's pleasing and disappointing all at once - he'd really been hoping for something to cast a little displeasure at without repercussions.

he doesn't mind not being informed where his reluctant host's living quarters are, figuring he can just wait and see where Kit retreats to given half a chance. but even as he takes in the inviting kitchen and contemplates clearing them out of anything with a high sugar content, something bitter rises up in his chest. his back is to the other boy now, but he can't help speaking.]

...you must be happy.

[Pausing in the doorway leading from the living room to the main hall, Kit glanced back over his shoulder toward Vincent.

What did he have to be happy about?

He was blessed he supposed with parents who were good to him and who had permitted him into their lives and into their home, but he knew better than to ever think he deserved them. In fact, just being here was inflicting more trouble upon them than they should have ever had to know. It was his fault his mother was in the hospital, after all. If he had never given her that glass rose as an apology for not staying one weekend...]

I don't know what you mean.

[his head turns slightly, just enough so that he can catch Kit's gaze.]

You get to play the martyr again without having to do anything about it. You must be ecstatic.

[Vincent had possibly made his opinion on this topic clear in the past, he thinks dimly. it's a thought that crosses his mind often and so feels like retreading old ground now, but his intensity remains constant. more than anything, this was the quality in the other boy that truly disgusted him. the hypocrisy it brought on with his other habits was simply staggering.

all of that anger and irritation at having company during a trying time, at seeing the people he ignored in pain, at having to engage with his own life made Vincent's blood boil. he didn't need to be psychic to know his former companion would return to his room and spend the rest of the night in self-flagellation before slotting this incident away with all the others which weighed useless on his conscience. disgusting.

how could someone be so insincere that even selfishness felt disingenuous?]

[Kit usually ran a few degrees cooler than Vincent, but the temperature in the room could have easily fallen below sub-zero following that accusation.]

You seem to think so.

[It wasn't the first time Vincent had branded him a martyr and Kit wasn't foolish enough to believe it would be the last. Probably, the reason it irritated him so much was because there was truth to those words. And yet the thought that someone who barely knew him could be so judgmental...

What the hell gave him the right? He was just a spectator in his life, not someone who had been granted the privilege of having an opinion worth hearing. And yet he seemed determined to spit it out every chance he got.]

You also don't seem to be doing anything about it. What does that make you?

Nobody. Just the way you want it.

[because that was what bothered him the most, wasn't it? not only did Vincent refuse to succumb to his usual bids for distance from the people around him, but he suspected that the other boy didn't want him to.

(it was a theory he could only be so certain of because it held true for himself as well)]

What the hell does it matter, anyway? I can do whatever the fuck I felt like and you wouldn't lift a finger.

[because if he did then he'd be forced to acknowledge the events that had led to his anger.]

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