away with us he's going, the solemn-eyed.

[nightmarist]

Who: Residents of St. Monmouth & OPEN to their various guests
When: Throughout February
Where: St. Monmouth in Kauto R2
What: The Backstreet Boys move into their magical farm of dreams.
Warnings: Look to the subject headers.
Notes: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!

[Ronan didn't hesitate. Almost as soon as they arrived, he was making arrangements and picking out a plot of land. No payment necessary as long as he agreed to feed the locals? Fine. Perfect. He'd signed whatever he had to and picked out his favorite place in the lot, then he'd laid down in the grass and dreamt.

When he closed his eyes, he wasn't sure what he would build. The idea of "home" conjured up so many images in his mind. He thought of the Barns, of course, but also of Henrietta as a whole. He thought of Monmouth Manufacturing and dusty old books and the scent of mint. He thought of St. Agnes and its magnificent stained glass and the cramped coziness of Adam's bedroom above the office. He found Cabeswater sprouting up in the strangest places as the landscape shifted around him, spilling out of the walls and claiming rooms all for its own. Corridors and staircases emerged out of his memories, leading him through a maze of rooms both familiar and not-quite. In the end, when Ronan stepped outside to take a look at his work, he found he'd made himself a palace of nostalgia. Then he imagined a set of house keys, turned the lock of the front door, and woke up.

Ronan woke with his head resting on the welcome mat, sprawled across the front steps, gazing up at the spire of what he would dub St. Monmouth. It would be the main building of several he'd end up creating. Their new home.

Like God, he didn't rest for several days. Every time he shut his eyes, he devoted himself to dreaming something new. A farm needed animals and crops and barns and feed and equipment. Home needed streams and fish and bridges and flower gardens and glittering lights. He let his imagination run wild, and this meant that his dream things often emerged strange and senseless, but that reminded him of his father, which made the place more beautiful.

When he was finally satisfied - although not completely finished - he invited the others to join him.]

Comments

Scrying stabbinating ffa

[unaffluent]

[ Adam's been practicing scrying. It's harder here. The ingress energy isn't as familiar to him as the leylines at home. It's bigger, more dangerous and when it comes down to it, Adam's still not sure what he's doing, what exactly he's searching for.

There's fragments, some familiar, most not. He's not sure how to learn how to communicate, how to understand this.

Each time he goes, he's taking longer, it's harder to get back out. He tries to scry when he's alone, not wanting to explain himself or what he's doing or why he's doing it.

But he needs to get a better grip on it if he's going to help Ronan, that's all he knows.

So, you've probably found him outside under a tree or in the weird canopied place or in one of the smaller rooms around St. Monmouth, holding the edges of a scrying bowl and you should probably get him to snap out of it before, you know, his soul detaches from his body forever. ]

[deadthing]

[When Noah stumbles across Adam clutching the bowl, eyes vacant and unblinking, he panics. Of course he panics. He's seen this before, how easily Adam slipped away and was almost lost to them forever. And he has no idea how long he's been gone this time, only that he's still alive, so there's a chance.]

Adam. Adam!

[--No, that won't work. He has to do something. He looks around frantically, wishing someone else were here to take charge. His hands flutter, reaching for Adam and pulling back. Then he screws up his courage, reaches out again, and slaps Adam as hard as he can.]

[unaffluent]

[ It's still easy to get lost when he's scrying. It's hard to keep track of time. It's nearly impossible to know when he's broaching that limit, the point of no return. If it wasn't important than he wouldn't have really been trying to do this but he needs to find a way to save Ronan. He's determined. There's only the very vaguest of realizations that someone is saying his name but it's too far away for him to hear it. He doesn't know how to turn up the volume. Does he really need to leave yet?

Then, the sharp pain of getting slapped jolts him, pulling him back into his body, his hands gripping the bowl and his eyes a bit frantic until the land on Noah. His skin still hurt where his hand had landed but he doesn't reach to touch the skin. ]
Oh, Noah...