late nights with warm, warm whiskey.

[nightmarist]

Who: Residents of St. Monmouth & OPEN to visitors
When: Throughout May
Where: St. Monmouth in Kauto R2
What: Various suspicious happenings over at the dream farm.
Warnings: Look to the subject headers.
Notes: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!

[Save the addition of a tiny house now tucked into the woods of the property and scattered scars from the storm last month, St. Monmouth remains largely unchanged. Its dreamer has been putting most of his focus into repairs rather than additions, when he's in a state to be dreaming at all. The scorch marks on the land have already been replaced with fresh, living greenery. Any major damage to the farm buildings has been repaired either with magic or tools. It's almost good as new.

The main house of St. Monmouth retains its pleasant lived-in atmosphere. The rooms were made to feel cozy, even with so many tall windows and open spaces. The temperature is always a drowsy sort of warm. Because the dreamer has to dream in so many locations, piles of pillows and blankets end up tossed in random corners throughout the factory-church. The fridge never runs out of pizza, the liquor bottles are never empty, and cupboard hinges sound like they're humming songs instead of creaking.

In the garden, some of the flowers look more like abstract art pieces than plants. Wrapped candy bars grow on many of the trees instead of fruit. The pond somehow contains freshwater and tropical fish living together in perfect harmony. When night falls, fireflies made from pure light wash over the property like a glowing tide coming in.

As far as anyone living there can tell, the farm itself produces nothing. Cows are milked and eggs are collected, but there's only enough for the household to consume. None of the cattle are ever slaughtered, yet Ronan always makes his mandatory delivery to the locals in exchange for the land. He gives them more than he's required, too, in steaks and cheeses and ice cream and fruit. Hopefully not enough to attract attention.]

Comments

"Alexander Malcolm"

[brochtuarach]

Stables;

[ The damage here was relatively minor, and none of the animals were injured, so it doesn't take long before Jamie is back to his usual routine - cleaning stalls, brushing down the horses, repairing tack. By now, he's a fixture around here, and all the residents of St. Monmouth who spend any time at all around the stables should recognize the big Scotsman.

Today, he's got a skittish mare, her coat almost the same color as his hair, and he gently rubs her velvety nose, even as she snorts and stamps. Jamie speaks, low and almost musical, his words unrecognizable unless someone listening happens to know Gaelic. She begins to calm, focusing on the man in front of her - remarkably gentle, for someone so big and brutish-looking. ]

The grounds;

[ A few days later, and the mare is ready to go for a ride. Jamie is a gifted rider, and anyone can see that as he leads the mare across fields, pastures, eventually into a wooded area. He eventually stops her, leading her as gently as ever to a nice cool stream for a drink of water, and a bunch of oats from a bag attached to her saddle. It's a beautiful day, and Jamie removes his sweat-stained shirt to cool off with the water from the stream. ]

Wildcard;

[ Jamie can be found in various places throughout the grounds of St. Monmouth, including working around his own small cottage. He rarely comes to the main house, but every few days or so he may, just to try and get some of these hooligans to eat some parritch rather than cold pizza for once. Or to borrow a book from the extensive library. He enjoys adventure novels in particular, such as Robinson Crusoe, but will read anything that tickles his fancy, including the occasional steamy romance. ]

jesse | all over, all month

[heisenbitch]

☲ Gardens outside Monmouth - OPEN

[ Jesse often hangs out in the gardens when he's got nothing to do. Not only is it quiet, colourful, peaceful (although, not so colourful ever since that bewildering storm struck the planet), he often winds up being accompanied by Matthew's giant dog, or Chainsaw. Sometimes, early in the morning when Jesse has had a restless night and can't sleep, he'll come down into the gardens in his satin boxers and a t-shirt, sleepy and barefoot and seated on the steps while smoking, and Boof will come bounding up to slobber all over him, massive tail wagging, Jesse unable to help laughing as the dog nuzzles at his face or tries to sit on him like a puppy who has no concept of its own size.

Sometimes, he'll be down in the gardens in the afternoon, smoking (always smoking), dressed in whatever he's wearing at the time, and he might be tossing a dog-slobbered ball for Boof to go thundering after in between drags of his cigarette, or he might be seated on the step feeding scraps of meat to Chainsaw, or he might even be found letting Chainsaw hop onto his thigh or his shoulder. He can never quite stop being intimidated by that large beak and those sharp, beady eyes - the bird can be a total bullying menace like Ronan at times, and there are times when Chainsaw seems to take delight in tormenting Jesse in a way that has him both ducking in fright and laughing at the same time. Sometimes, if neither animal is around, Jesse might curiously be studying an alien bug that he's let crawl onto his hand, or might be examining some strange alien beetle looking thing nestled on the leaf of a nearby plant.

Sometimes, Jesse can be found down in the gardens at dusk or after last light has sunk from the sky, and he might be seated again on the step, again smoking, ruffling a hand into Boof's shaggy coat while staring deep in thought at nothing in particular. Or Chainsaw might be perched on his shoulder, tucked against his neck and snoozing, the bird seeming to have taken a liking to Jesse in ways similar to how Ronan and Matthew have.

Any time Jesse is found down in the gardens absorbed in the company of an animal or some other critter, it brings out a joyfully curious softness in him that he might otherwise not show. Feel free to find Jesse down in the gardens in any of the above circumstances (or feel free to make up your own where Chainsaw is taunting the shit out of Jesse or something :D). ]

☲ Farming & stuff - OPEN

[ Almost every day, Jesse winds up down on the farm. Mostly to hang around the animals - he's grown to love the horses and cows and the chickens and the goats so much - but also because he likes Jamie's company. The guy never seems particularly rattled by anything for the most part, and that has a calming effect on Jesse. Jesse hates hard work unless he's actually good at the job he's doing, but he works pretty hard around the animals if only because they, too, have a calming effect on him.

There are times Jesse can be found mucking out the stables, or filling up oat buckets in the feed shed, or filling up the water troughs, usually dressed in baggy clothes with knee-high rubber boots on. Other times, Jesse can be found just hanging with one of the horses, patting it affectionately, or he could be found slouched on the grass under a tree outside the paddocks, smoking a cigarette while on a break. Sometimes, if he loses himself enough in the task of mucking out the stables or brushing the horses, he might wind up singing a dumb song out loud to himself, entirely off-tune with pretty crude lyrics. ]

☲ Jesse's bedroom - OPEN

[ Jesse doesn't sleep very well most nights. He might pass out for a few hours, sunk deep in an exhausted sleep, but something will usually almost always wake him up. A nightmare swimming with vivid unsettling reminders of Gale, or haunted by Jane's face, or brimming with anxiety where Mr. White often winds up involved. Or sometimes he wakes up sweaty and restless for no particular reason. Or sometimes he wakes up because Ellie is right there in mind, and he'll rouse from sleep expecting to find her there. Sometimes, he just doesn't sleep at all.

Of course, Jesse often winds up lying in bed smoking. Propped up on the pillows, ankle crossed over ankle, chain-smoking while staring at the wall. There are plenty of times he winds up starting up his game console, too, and with the volume down, he will race virtual cars for hours around a virtual racetrack, or he will finds himself deeply engrossed in a game where he has to shoot people over and over again. Those games can wind up particularly addicting, almost punishing, especially if Gale is on his mind.

Anyone else who might be restless and unable to sleep in Monmouth would be more than welcome to knock on Jesse's bedroom door. ]

☲ Jesse's bedroom (again) - CLOSED TO RONAN

[ A night where Jesse has managed to drift off to sleep eventually. He is lying on his side, curled up, face buried into the pillow while he breathes heavily and steadily. It's pitch black, middle of the night. Another night where his dreams are a fretful, anxious thing, brewing with unsettlingly familiar themes that often haunt his dreams in distorted, uneasy ways. So deep is he sleeping that he doesn't hear his bedroom door quietly trundle open, nor does he notice the weak light filtering in from the hall, and doesn't hear the door being rolled shut again.

He only stirs when the mattress suddenly shifts and dips under the weight of someone crawling onto his bed. His eyes snap open wide when it registers that the sheets are being pulled down and someone is climbing into the bed beside him. He lifts his head quickly from the pillow and looks over his shoulder in alarm - and realises through the darkness and the groggy haze of being startled awake that it's Ronan. Though his heart has picked up, that it's Ronan makes him instantly relax a little. ]

Shit. Startled me, man. [ Exclaimed in a hushed voice. He doesn't sound annoyed so much as surprised and maybe just a little on edge . But then, in a softer tone, more concerned now than alarmed: ] Everything okay?

☲ WILDCARD

[ OOC; Any other scenario you want to do, anything we've discussed doing that we haven't gotten around to doing yet, etc etc! Feel free to hit this thread up with a starter of your own! ]

[nightmarist]

Everything's fine. I just wanted to scare you.

[Ronan's kidding, of course. But it's not a surprise that he inadvertently frightened Jesse. Ronan's scary even in full daylight, let alone when he's creeping around in the dark.

Now that he's here, though, he sidles up to Jesse, long limbs wrapping themselves lazily around Jesse's smaller form.]

[heisenbitch]

[ The quietest of snorts from Jesse, sarcastic, amused, relieved, all at once. ]

Gee. Thanks, asshole.

[ Any startled alarm still lingering within him is fast melting away under the surprised flood of warmth rushing into his chest at Ronan crawling into his bed. It's so unexpected, so strangely sweet, something Ronan has never done before. Something neither of them could ever do, really, until recently. Dropping his head back to the pillow, he can't help shifting into the solid warmth of Ronan pressing up behind him. Kidding, his voice scratchy with sleep: ]

Got lost on the way to your own room, huh?

insomnia in jesse's bedroom!!

[deconstruct]

[ jesse hasn't been allowed to come to R1 with andyr again since that night. "allowed", but that doesn't always mean jesse won't show up uninvited. thankfully jesse hasn't attempted to take him to a hospital again, but with the lack of alva around to stitch him back together, he can tell the anxiety's rising. andyr knows he'll survive. he always does.

he comes back late at night again, blood still dried under his finger nails, small traces at the edge of his hairline that he hadn't quite scrubbed hard enough at. jesse's awake, but laid in his bed, smoking, andyr knows, because he can smell the cigarette in the air when he passes by his door. he knows he's too wired to sleep right now, that he'll have dreams of hapsburg and his cell, of posie and alva, of the sounds of bone saws. a shoulder shoves against the door, pushing it open, and andyr slumps in lazily, making no comment for greeting or explanation. jesse likely knows where he's coming home from.

slouching over, when the toe of his worn tennis shoes hit the edge of the mattress, andyr tips forward, flopping onto the mattress at jesse's side, forehead touching to his hip, legs starting to curl up. he doesn't want anything in particular. just the presence of his friend. something slightly less isolated than he feels. ]

[heisenbitch]

[ There are times Jesse goes into R1 when he knows Andyr is going to the cage fights. He hates it, but he goes, and he loiters around in the shadows with his arms crossed over his chest, anxiously shifting from foot to foot while occasionally craning his neck to peer out over the crowds at the cage, but usually just hanging around just in case.

Other times, Jesse stays at Monmouth when he knows Andyr is going in for another cage fight, but that doesn't mean he still isn't loitering around, waiting for Andyr to come home. Sometimes, when he knows Andyr is home again, Jesse will slip into Andyr's room just to hang with him. Not saying much, not doing much. Just being there. Jesse knows he's absolutely no kind of replacement for Alva, but he also knows he's one of the very few people who's seen Andyr at his worst, at his most vulnerable. He knows Andyr being alone is the last thing Andyr should be.

Tonight, Jesse has so much on his mind, though. A hundred things, whirling through his head, while he lies stretched out on his bed, smoking. The bedside lamp is on, dimmed to a low glow. Cigarette smoke curls into the air, ghostlike, and the ashtray by his bed is close to overflowing. He's staring at the wall, absently and anxiously jiggling a foot where it's crossed over his ankle when the door suddenly rolls open.

Andyr doesn't need to say a word. Jesse can tell just from the sight of him that it's been another one of those nights at the cage fight. It's not just in how dishevelled Andyr looks; it's in his eyes, in the small telltale signs of dried blood clinging around his hairline. God, it's a thing that never quite fails to make Jesse a little nervous about Andyr. Not afraid. Just nervous. He's seen this man, someone Jesse would even consider a best friend, in rages unlike anything Jesse has ever seen. He's seen how those hands can tear a person limb from limb, he's seen how crazy and distant and dark those eyes of Andyr's can go, he's seen savagery coming out of Andyr that would make a lion tearing apart its prey seem tame in comparison.

As Andyr wordlessly enters the room, Jesse takes a quick final drag of his cigarette before stretching it across to the ashtray to stub the rest out. He exhales smoke as he watches Andyr slumping down onto his bed. For a few beats, while Andyr lies there beside him, Jesse lets him be. Lets him just rest there, in silence and peace, while Jesse watches him. A twist of helplessness and an aching concern for his friend knots up in his chest. Reaching a hand out, Jesse quietly touches Andyr's head, gently brushing his fingers through Andyr's hair. ]

Need anything?

[ Asked quietly. Water. Food. Even help getting into the shower. Anything. Jesse knows exactly where Andyr has come from, and he knows all he can do is just be there for his friend. ]

jesse's br.- in which no one at monmouth has the ability to sleep

[son_of_a_dreamer]

Declan can't sleep. This isn't too much of a difference from his usual, except since coming to this place he hasn't had his sleeping pills, and that's been making things increasingly more difficult. He's been drinking more, he knows that much, but he tells himself he has reasons for it. A lot of reasons, this tossing and turning bullshit being one of them.

He gets up, frustrated as hell and goes downstairs to the kitchen to fix himself a drink. He's worried. People having been sent home worried him, the demon worries him, Matthew's soul worries him. Not being surrounded by people in the way he was back home, that bothers him. He wonders if Ronan's awake. Maybe, but if he isn't, he doesn't want to risk waking his brother and feeling pathetic about it. The last thing he wants is to seem like he's not handling things well, especially himself. Pathetic. He wonders if Jesse is awake.

For some strange reason that Declan doesn't want to look too closely at, he and Jesse talk. It's not just the talking, though. Jesse seems to... understand? See things from his perspective? Declan's not sure he's ever really had that before, not even with his colleagues. All of that has always been so fake. Jesse is far too emotional to be fake.

He sighs heavily, knocking back some of his drink, and he finds himself grabbing is TAB and texting Jesse: Are you awake?

[heisenbitch]

[ Jesse's TAB going off has Jesse looking away from his racing game over to his bed, where his TAB is lying. Huh. He assumes it must be Daisy, or Ronan. Most likely Daisy. Ronan barely uses that thing. Pausing the game, he pushes himself up and slouched across to his bed, picks up the TAB... and frowns in surprise at seeing it's a message from Declan. Wow, that's a first...

Must be important. Declan wouldn't contact him for no reason. He swipes the screen and types back a response. ]

Yeah what's up?

Matthew

[dreamkid]

i. CURRENT EVENTS

[ A few hours after the airing of this announcement, Matthew can be found on the front stoop of Declan's brownstone, his massive dog draped over his lap like some giant, hairy, circulation-disrupting mountain. Every so often, the boy gives the creature a distracted pat, but his attentions are more focused on his TAB. He texts rapidly with one thumb, stops to stare at the screen, and then starts typing again after a minute, an anxious expression etched onto his normally carefree features. ]

ii. PIGGYBACK RIDES

[ This is happening. Somehow or another, be it the result of a joke, a dare, or simply a cheerful offer on Matthew's part, he is giving your character a piggyback ride. (Or trying, in the case of anyone who might happen to weigh a great deal more than a regular person.)

He's a big, sturdy boy, and there's very little danger of him dropping anyone after they're securely in place on his back and he's got his arms hooked under their legs. Which is good because once that happens he gives only the briefest warning before he takes off running across the grass, whooping and laughing. ]

iii. CHORES

[ Matthew is not an ordinary teenage boy in a number of ways, but his laundry habits are fairly typical--in that he forgets it's a thing he has to do until pastel shorts and button-downs are spilling out of the basket in his room, which is an accurate description of his current situation. He likes going to the main building for laundry, even if he has to cart his clothes over and does run the risk of the machines already being in use, because there are more chances of running into someone and "alone" has never been his favorite thing to be.

Today, the dryer's full of somebody else's clothes, warm and fluffy, the cycle just finished. Matthew tosses his own clothes in the wash, pours in a rather arbitrary amount of soap, and then helpfully starts folding and hanging up the other items of clothing for whomever is coming back for them. (Or perhaps Blue, Monmouth's resident clothing magpie.) ]

iv. DRIVING LESSENS; CLOSED TO RONAN

Is this really okay?

[ Matthew has to ask, because he is a generally rule-abiding child, but there's no mistaking the thrill of eagerness in his voice and the fond way he runs his hand over the hood of Ronan's gleaming dream car, one of many in the garage. It's a ridiculous car, and Matthew loves it, and he loves the idea of learning to drive like his brothers, but he's not sixteen yet.

Wait. Actually he doesn't even know when he's going to be sixteen. What day is it on this planet? What a weird thought to have never had before now. But not weird enough to distract him fully, not when he's so excited to get behind the wheel of this vehicle and see what happens. ]

v. WILDCARD! Hit me

ii

[shadowblends]

[The offer of a piggyback ride when he was small had always been too good to pass up. Now that he's older, Kurt seems somewhat tentative about climbing onto someone else's back, regardless of how well he knows them. It doesn't take too much to make him cave, though, and Matthew certainly has a charming smile.

His arms rest loosely over his friend's shoulders at first, those iridescent eyes darting frantically back and forth - like he's afraid someone might see them. That might be a bit embarrassing the more he thinks about it ... Good thing Matthew is also a great distraction; he's barely got time to register the warning before his arms lock together and the blond takes off, making the blue boy dip his head to briefly hide his face in the other teen's shoulder.

That doesn't last long, since Kurt had promised that he wouldn't 'freak out' or anything. He takes a slow breath, lifts his head to peek up then perks at the sight of grass and vibrant blossoms rushing past them. A laugh of his own escapes and what do you know? He even tosses his arms up and also lets out a cheer before clutching onto Matthew's shoulders again so as not to knock them off-balance.]

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew lets out a shout of laughter when Kurt throws up his arms, his own momentarily gripping the mutant's legs even tighter to prevent him from falling because Matthew is not going to slow down. Actually, they've just started down a hill and that causes him to pick up even more speed, so that the slight breeze of the day feels like wind in their faces, blowing their hair back. It's a good thing Kurt's hanging on to his shoulders again.

When he reaches the bottom of the hill he puts on the brakes, slowing and then finally coming to a stop in the grass and the wildflowers. ]

See? [ he asks, hardly even out of breath. ] I told you it'd be fun!

backdated;

[pillz]

[it's a beautiful day for soft, smol blond dream boys to be running about the farmstead, exploring her hills and wading her rivers, admiring her fantastical wildlife, such as her many-horned stags. an unreasonably charming rainbow has shot itself out over the edge of the sky, thanks to recent rainfall; everything smells like petrichor. the alien birds are singing their alien songs and you do not have to be an alien to appreciate them. though granted, a substantial chunk of kauto's population likely qualifies as alien, soft, smol blond dream boys included.

also your local dream thief.

he appears rather suddenly. not because of any special gift of teleportation, but because matthew had been running and there had been a herd of cattle between them, blocking kavinsky from view. but in true comic book villain style, he breaks dramatically into matthew's sight. perched on a boulder. a high-powered rifle (dreamt) hanging over one shoulder, a half-eaten apple (stolen) in one hand. something that looks oddly like new paint is drying on his elbow. kavinsky stares at matthew blankly, his hollow eyes half-mast.] Sup.

[dreamkid]

[ It really is a beautiful day, one of those perfect sorts to which Matthew has grown so accustomed here. He's admired the stags, laughed joyfully at the rainbow, spoken kindly to a few of the cows, and is very ready to go on and be pleasantly surprised by the next nice thing to cross his path except the next thing to cross his path is not very nice.

He comes to a comical halt, arms windmilling just a bit, and blinks. Gun. Blink. Paint. Blink.

Oh. Oh shit.

His stomach drops. Plummets, really, right into the ground, which also seems to be further away than it should be, and he stumbles back a step. ]

You're-- what are you doing here?

[ He throws a look over his shoulder, but there's nobody back there, no one around but the cows. Not even Boof the giant dream dog, who can so often be seen galloping along at his giant dream boy's side, but was taking a nap on Declan's porch when Matthew left to fill his "meandering" quota for the day.

All-in-all it's a very different reaction from the last time he and Kavinsky ran into each other, because enough time has passed between then and now that even sweet stupid Matthew has realized who brought him from the Ingress Complex to this farm. He's just been doing his thing and ignoring the unpleasantness (not to mention the baffling impossibility) for as long as possible.

Which is right up to this moment and no further, it would seem. ]

[nightmarist]

Of course it's okay. We're on my land. I make the rules here.

[This is technically true, at least where driving is concerned, though he's sure Declan will be voicing his disapproval if he hears about this. But he's not here right now!

The doors unlock with Ronan's touch and he climbs into the passenger seat.]

Come on!

[dreamkid]

[ Well that sounds legit, and even if it didn't, Matthew would be utterly helpless to resist his brother's urging. He pops open the driver's side door and folds himself into the car, grinning like mad as he pulls the door shut and latches his seatbelt. Once that's taken care of, he makes a very brief study of the car from this position. Hands on the steering wheel, then one hand reaching up to touch the mirror, and then he leans to the right so he can see his own face reflected.

And that's when he laughs his sunny laugh, clapping both hands on the wheel again. ]

Okay, all right-- keys?

Declan | Superpowers | backdated May 9-13

[son_of_a_dreamer]

[It's not like Declan to lay around lazily in the middle of the day, but it's been a slow day and the weather has been getting colder, so getting his tan on while he still can is something he's willing to lay out here for, before the sun goes down. He doesn't expect to fall asleep, because sleep hasn't come easily since he got here, so sure enough, that's exactly what happens.

When he sleeps, he doesn't really dream anymore, or if he does, he barely remembers them. Bits and pieces here and there, always fading before he has a good grasp on them. Growing up in the household he grew up in, Declan never felt like this was a problem. He used to be scared of his dreams when he was younger, then he was relieved he never had any. Sometimes he was jealous and then he got over it. Besides, after a while there really wasn't any time for dreaming anymore. There were bigger things to worry about.

But now, laid out on this lawn chair, he's falling into the deepest sleep he's had in a while and this time he dreams. It's mostly feelings and memories that come together, mostly from before he got to this planet. He dreams about his brothers, about the feeling of keeping them safe, being able to surround them with protection, knowing that even if he was gone for a little while, he could always find them in the same spot. Like every Sunday when he'd drive back to Henrietta to see them at church. There were a couple times they weren't there, but then they were found, and they all returned, together.

It's the strangest dream he's ever had, because he can remember every detail of this church, now big enough to be a cathedral, but it's like nothing he's ever seen before, not as a whole. Maybe bits and pieces of places he's been to or even what this dream space looks like- blues and purples and cosmic energy that all seems to flow together somehow. When he walks into this cathedral from his dreams, he knows his brothers will be there. He can feel them there as he walks in, and then he wakes up.

The Cathedral that stands before him when he opens his eyes scares him enough that if he wasn't feel completely paralyzed, he'd be falling back off the chair in surprise. He wonders if he's still asleep, if he's having a heart attack (thanks, Ronan), or if he's dying- because no. This couldn't be what he thinks it is. There's no way in heaven or hell. This can't be the Cathedral from his dreams. It doesn't exist, but now... it does.]

wildcard

hit him up after the discovery and he can dream you up stuff, or mildly freak out to you about it.

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew's been having a bit of a strange day, too. He slept in late, which is odd for him but not alarmingly so (he's a boy who has a strange relationship with sleep), and then instead of getting to his chores right away, he lets Boof out, grabs a box of cereal from the kitchen, waves sleepily to Declan, and then wanders back to his room, yawning. Something feels off, but he doesn't dwell on the jitter in his hands, or the feeling that his molars are rattling against each other.

That's probably nothing. "I'll be out in a little bit," he promises his brother through the door, before Declan makes it outside to work on his tan.

Less nothing is when Matthew finally sets aside the book he was trying to read, rolls out of bed, and makes it to the bathroom, where the bulb over the sink explodes with a pop at the exact moment he catches a sneeze in his forearm. A little yelp escapes him and he looks up with wide eyes, alarmed. The jittery feeling increases and the cup holding his toothbrush starts to jump and rattle across the sink like its being manipulated by a ghost. ]

Umm. Declan?

[ Matthew backs out of the bathroom, eyes on the cup, which stops rattling when he leaves. Okayyy. Okay, this is fine. ]

Declan?

[ He checks a few rooms, and then happens to glance out of the window to see his brother apparently asleep by the pool--also strange, but Matthew is more relieved to see him than anything else. It takes him less than a minute to shove his feet into his holographic sneakers and trot out the door, but in that minute something extraordinary happens.

His mouth falls open when he sees the church, so impressed with its magnificence that thoughts of exploding light bulbs and walking cups leave his mind completely. ]

Whoa...

[ He wanders over to Declan's chair, his eyes fixed on the church. But where's Ronan? ]

Hey, Declan--

[ Matthew leans down to shake him awake, but his eyes are already open. ]

Are you seeing this? [ He gives the area another glance. ] Can Ronan dream stuff long-distance now or something?

[son_of_a_dreamer]

[Declan sees it, alright and he wants to tell Matthew to stay back, but he's too damn shocked to even get the words out before Matthew is next to him, shaking him. It's better that he does though, because it gets Declan moving, pushing himself up out of the lawn chair and backing up into Matthew. ]

He's not here? He must be here. Maybe he passed out upstairs.

[ Because there's no other alternative. That has to be it. ]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan doesn't find Declan immediately. In fact, Ronan doesn't leave his room for several hours, because he realizes upon waking that something very familiar and very wrong has happened to him. The subtle, ambient hum of magic that accompanies his dream nature has been silenced for the first time since the Midway Hub, and Ronan tears through his closet until he finds his pac disc and retrieves a canteen of purple water he'd stocked up on from the caves.

He drinks it. He passes out. When he wakes ninety minutes later, he finds no power returned to him. After overturning several pieces of furniture and collapsing in a quiet and solitary panic, he finally gathers himself up enough to go outside and encounter other people.

Ronan starts running for Declan's brownstone, and when he rounds the corner, the cathedral suddenly pops into view. That - obviously - wasn't there yesterday. His pace slows to a stop. He stands there on Declan's lawn, staring at the massive building, feeling as if he's got no air left in his lungs.

He thinks he may be beginning to understand what happened.]

[morethan084]

[Daisy had caught wind that something had happened to Declan, she just wasn't sure what. All she knew was that people were concerned when she arrived at the farmhouse. It's been a while since she had seen him, but they had been talking on and off through text messages.

The Cathedral is hard to miss and she isn't sure how the hell it got there, but Daisy ignores it in favor of going up to Declan's house and knocking on the front door.]

Blue Sargent

[amplifyings]

( OUTSIDE )

[ Blue spends more of her time outside of St. Monmouth than inside. Sometimes venturing far into the forests, and other times wandering the seemingly endless expanses of green grass -- and usually barefoot, something about the feeling of grass under her toes reminded her of summers spent back home.

Today, she seems set on a more specific task -- the fine art of flower picking. With a handmade basket hanging off of her arm (honestly a laughable attempt with uneven sides and poor weaving, but that didn't stop Blue from making use of it as though it wasn't.), she trudges through the small field of flowers that she's found herself in, reaching down every few moments and picking out ones to add to it. ]

( OUTSIDE )

[ Blue spends somewhere near a good fifteen minutes contemplating exactly how she's supposed to get from the dry land where she's standing to the swing that's hanging a short distance away without getting soaked by the water between the two.

She ultimately deems it impossible. If she possesses the power of teleportation, she's yet to discover it -- and she's also not going to bet on it suddenly manifesting itself right in this very moment. So, leaving one small pile of extra clothes on the dry land, she dives in, swims the distance and after only the slightest bit of struggle hoists herself onto the swing.

And that's where she spends most of the day, laid out next to a drying pair of mutilated shorts floating from one nap to the next and filling her awake time with the sounds of her own thoughts, the wildlife around her and the idle dipping of her toes into the water beneath her. ]

( WILDCARD )

[ literally anything you want, anywhere you want! hit me with something! ]

the swing

[nightmarist]

[Everyone but Ronan seems to have trouble figuring out the swing. Unbeknownst to Blue, he's hanging out in a tree a short distance away, watching her struggle the entire time, doing absolutely nothing to assist.

Once she's settled, he makes his descent through the tree branches, hops onto a neighboring tree, and takes up a perch so that he's now in plain sight and facing Blue. Draping himself comfortably across his new branch like some kind of overlong Cheshire Cat, he plucks off a handful of leaves and rains them down approximately onto her face.]

Flower picking!

[disentombs]

[Gansey's been too preoccupied with the fallout between Adam and Ronan lately, trying to put back the pieces of his best friend.

He needed some time outside and there was no end to the beauty of the outside of St. Monmouth. He ends up in the flower field with Blue, partly to see the flowers, mostly to see Blue.

Seeing her like this calms him and there's a warm smile as he approaches.]

Quite the collection already.

nsfw af | for ronan, i tried my best not to make a porn novel 8T

[deconstruct]

[ after everything that's happened of late, the issues with gansey, with adam leaving, with alva leaving, the way andyr's been coming unraveled piece by piece whether ronan's been told of that yet or not, they're sitting out in the pasture some day, looking out at the mountains on the border of region 2, and andyr says "I want to go there." after everything, it seems needed. they pack up and take the horses (Cow, too, because Andyr still thinks gripping onto the animal's neck like he's giving her a hug constitutes as 'riding'), let the others know, and set up a tent in a clearing on the mountain side for a weekend, close enough to a stream to splash and dunk, close enough to a more gentle hill to roll down it like children.

this tent, at least, is bigger than the one they'd had on the Hub, and the pacdisc makes an actual mattress easy to tote along, all the familiar blankets and pillows from home surrounding them when night falls and they curl up together, bare. andyr thinks back to the night when it was just them, when he'd narrowed the world down to ronan's lips and the feel of their warm skin press together, their fingers tangled, the soft sighs coming from him, the ecstasy running through his nerves like overloaded circuitry. and this love, bright and innocent and pure and simple. ]

Do you want-- [ andyr starts, breathing coming in heavy pants as he feels ronan's heart pounding through bone and skin, pressed down over him, their hips locked and rolling together. it seems like asking too much, but god, he wants him. with ronan's arms around him, the taste of him on his lips, and his eyes watching him so so bright and so beautiful. andyr swallows, a thumb stroking over his cheek, as he tries again, soft. ] We can do more, if you want.

[nightmarist]

[There's something about this that feels strangely like coming home. Or, if not that, then it's like returning to the beginning of them. The details aren't precise, but it's close enough to fool Ronan's senses and bring him back to those early days when it was only him and Andyr in that tent, when they were only just discovering each other. When they first fell in love.

When they break to breathe and Andyr makes his proposal, Ronan almost doesn't understand. This is how it's been between them since they started, two bodies tangled around each other but never becoming one. That was a privilege Ronan had denied himself at first, and later it had been one that was denied him.]

Are you sure?

[Ronan palms Andyr's cheek, searching his eyes.]

I don't want you to feel like you have to.

[He's aware of the imbalance between Andyr and Adam and himself. He could see this easily as Andyr's attempt to even the scales. If Andyr's still sleeping with Adam, like Ronan assumes, then the question might have arisen out of guilt. And guilt is no reason to be with someone.]