❪ event ❫ spirited away

[natha]

PRELUDE     I'll get straight to the point, Thesaens. Dranbu is in dire need of assistance. I have received confirmation that the disappearances we were investigating last month have... escalated. Be cautious as you make your way through Josa Forest. Ideally we could go straight through, but it seems the main entrance to Dranbu is overgrown with thorns and vines, and there's a bit of a glitch with the rail system - the train is having trouble recognizing the Dranbu station as a destination. I've uploaded a homing beacon to your devices with this message. Once enough of you have arrived in Dranbu proper, it should communicate with the train and register it as a stop. With any luck, that will make getting back and forth much easier for you all from now on. Best of luck. Entry to the forest is not only overgrown with vegetation, but seems to be growing at an increasingly alarming rate. Any attempts to clear the vines will be met with even larger ones growing in its place, and it only confirms Nurray's findings as true. The only way in is across the sound from Nadril, entering the forest from its snowy back yard. It doesn't stay cold for long; as one ventures further into the forest, the snow will disappear, as though it was completely out of place in the first place. The red sun's warmth will take its place soon after— and before long, you'll feel too warm for the clothes you came with. That's when you know you've entered the heart of Josa Forest. WITHIN THE FOREST     The forest seems to be thick with a profound presence that can’t be ascertained. While venturing through it, one will feel like there are being watched or followed. This feeling will only intensify as metallic-scented drops of rain begin to fall between the clearings in the trees. Unfortunately, what many don’t realize at this point is that this is how the forest itself eats. How it subsists and lives through the minds of those who eventually get lost in it. Wandering this far in is akin to walking into a lion’s jaw, or rather… straight to its stomach. But, the forest has a way of making one stay. While it swallows someone up, it shows them sinfully beautiful and picturesque sights. Even showing them people or things that are familiar to the lost. All of which will urge them to go in deeper and deeper. But, while the forest begins to prey on the mind of their victim— they will suddenly hear an elegant and alluring voice urging them back. This voice promises them comfort and safety. Promises to be kind and open. Promises she has a place for them where they will never feel displaced or unwanted, or lost. Before they can fully accept, they will find that they are whisked away in Barthala’s embrace. Some will be taken, wiped of all their previous memories and inserted new ones. Others will find they have no prior memories at all of themselves, only urged to go on with regular life. What is prevalent is the forest's desire to turn you. Metamorphosis is a phenomenon that occurs only to certain individuals, and there is no rhyme or reason to them. Some adventurers would find themselves changing by the minute, the hour, or the process may even take days and weeks. The forest toys with you, but it only wants to draw you closer to its core — as though there's a story there it wants you to see and understand. Will you go on anyway, knowing the forest has already has its claws on you? I. ALL ROADS LEAD TO — Exploring the forest is not a perilous experience - Barthala's blessing ensures that paths remain clear of any dangerous obstacles, and keeps anyone who enters the woods from losing their way. However, it will not always lead adventurers where they want to go. Stressed? Your path leads to a meadow, grass drifting gently in the breeze. Tired? You'll find your way to a tree with roots perfectly curved for a nap, the shade a peaceful retreat from the sunlight. The hungry will find streams full of fish or bushes laden with berries, and the curious will come upon elder trees, unique and beautiful. Only those who are truly satisfied with their circumstances, with themselves, can forge their own path, and venture to Barthala's Grotto. II. BARTHALA'S GROTTO — The deity's home is host to an abundance of life. Butterflies drift through the air, brilliantly colored and unbothered by any intruders. Foliage blooms in a rainbow of colors, many plants unique to this area alone. With trees arranged to provide a canopy over the path and small clearing, the scene is something out of a fantasy. Any plant life taken from this area will not survive long, though even in its dead, dried state, it retains a curious beauty. Explorers and creatures finding themselves in this area will suddenly find their clothing to be an unnecessary burden - what could be better than feeling the wonders of nature against bare skin? There is nothing unbecoming about such a natural state, any perverse inclinations are an aspect of personal preference. While the presence of Barthala can be felt here - a warm, comfortable sensation emanating from your core - she is nowhere to be found. Only one will have the opportunity to pass under a veil of willow branches and emerge to the cool air of a clear-as-glass spring. Another nearby grotto is home to a plant with intoxicating effects. Just smelling the leaves is enough to entice most animals, and consuming them has effects on both mind and body. More easily amused, with thoughts that weave deep and distant, along with increased sensory perception can bring the user on a pleasant trip lasting up to five hours. III. INFLUENCES — (18+) Every five days, a weed scattered in patches among the forest underbrush blooms. The flowers are small and white, unremarkable except for how clustered they grow. When their petals fall, after only hours of blossoming, pollen drifts through the air. It clings to clothing, to hair, in the throats of the sensitive animals dwelling in the forest. Even those unaltered by Barthala's magic can be affected. The locals of Dranbu claim the pollen enhances fertility, but in practice, it simply serves as a poignant aphrodisiac. Those affected won't differentiate between the warmth of another or their own, a simple need to experience sexual ecstasy overwhelmingly pervaded. The pollen loses its potency after about three hours, leaving behind only a sweet smell. YOUR NEW (NEW) LIFE    Adapting to an entirely new setting isn’t always so simple. People often say that assimilating oneself to the environment happens fluidly, and before you know it, you’re a part of it. In Dranbu, these words hold an uncanny sense of truth. When you awake, your day begins like it always has. Your daily routine meets largely unchanged, except a few tinier details. Perhaps, you’ve realized your true calling is an occupation within the villages itself. Maybe in farming up strange medical herbs, maybe in acting as a witch doctor for the people, or maybe you find yourself drawn to the arts and you really enjoy sculpting fellow villagers in the nude. Once you commit these tasks, you realize, it feels like what you’ve always done. As if it were natural, as if you’ve done them for years, and maybe you have? At least that’s what your gut is telling you, and slowly your memories will too. At the end of the day, when you return home, you realize you’re not alone. You have a partner who shares the same values and whom you love deeply. Or maybe a spouse whom you’re always arguing with. But, even that will feel as commonplace as the rest of your day. All you know is that the day that might have started off not being yours is entirely yours and yours alone. IV. THE HUNT — Those taken by the forest, animal features adorning their bodies, will find that their palates have changed as well. Carnivores crave raw meat, while herbivores don't mind snacking on a patch of grass or pulling leaves from branches. For most, there's no reason to cook a meal; once prey is captured, instinct says dig right in! It can be a gruesome sight, mangled bodies gorged upon leaving bloodstained faces, but it's natural. As is the hunt itself - any size of game can be found in the forest, and no one will go hungry for long. The magic that dwells here ensures a catch even for the clumsiest predator. Just take care not to stalk one of your own. For a hungry predator, there's no difference between a deer and a deer-like human. THE BOUNDARIES BEYOND     For some, placated is synonymous with bored. While there is a sense of wonder in the beauties of nature that adorn the woods, serene forest life isn't for everyone. Those seeking more adventure can explore the challenging slopes of Waco Mountain. Barthala's influence is weaker on those bluffs than in Josa Forest itself, so thrill chasers won't be disappointed. Lose the path, slip on loose rocks, fall into a stream and spend a night wet and cold, there are many perils that come with traveling a mountain-side. Scattered ruins offer some shelter, their walls carved with images resembling Barthala, a dragon, and three other stranger creatures. While the deity's pacification does not flow as deeply through this region, all are still save from mortal wounds, and the veil cast over their memories will not lessen. If you have made it this far, however, there is no reason to try to return to the main city of Dranbu. Accommodations are always available in the neighboring villages: Phares in the north, and Stroln in the south. These villages are in friendly competition with one another, and will tempt travelers with women and men of their kind in order to draw in business to their hotels. FINAL OOC NOTES     No REP is available for this log. REP will now be primarily available through achieving NPC quests, which will be available on the 19th! Please keep an eye out for that! Dranbu is entirely available for exploration! You may find that most of Wyver and Olympia Flora/Fauna may be found in the forest as well. For more information on your characters' (opt-in) Metamorphosis, please refer to the November Outline! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

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Brianna Randall | OTA

[givingback]

WITHIN THE FOREST

[ It's a note Brianna leaves for Claire; she wants to go explore, she doesn't really see the inherent danger in simply being curious. She's always loved the outdoors, chasing rabbits when she saw them when she was little, fishing, camping. It's never bothered her to be outside in nature. Her note mostly says that she's borrowed a cloak from her mother and she'll be back once she's done exploring the woods. She doesn't specify, but with the transmission on their devices, she's sure it won't be that hard to put two and two together.

Maybe she'll help someone while she's at it, so she sets off. She's glad for the cloak when she's met with snow, but soon enough she sheds it, entering the forest proper. ]

I. all roads lead to--

[ Bree finds herself relaxing almost immediately. This? This is beautiful, and unlike anything she's ever seen before. Tilting her face up toward the warm sun, she smiles and unpins her hair, letting wild and unruly curls cascade down her back. This is where she's supposed to be, this is what she's been looking for.

There's a spot that's sunny and perfect for sitting and reflecting, so sit she does, taking off her shoes and drawing her knees up as she leans back on her hands. She smiles at anyone who may pass by, as if she hasn't a care in the world. ]

It's beautiful here, isn't it?

YOUR NEW (NEW) LIFE

[ As far as she's concerned, this is home now, though even under the powerful influence of magic it seems apples don't fall far from trees. Bree's days, as far as she knows, are spent gathering herbs and flowers, things to press or things to turn into medicine or salves. Wearing an apron over a light dress and bare feet, she gathers things in it, humming to herself. Every now and then, faintly, she's reminded of someone who might have done this very same thing, but she brushes it off.

She has no idea that to her mother, her brother, she's actually gone missing. This is the life she's always had, as an herbalist. It will take quite a lot of convincing to make her realize this isn't where she belongs. ]

WILDCARD

[ For anything else. Or hmu on plurk @babybokchoy ]

your new (new) life (with some winging it)

[america]

[ It takes a few days, but Steve and some of the other refugees eventually do make it into Dranbu - and with their own memories intact, thank God.

He's been collecting bits and pieces of information throughout his trek towards the village, but it's a relief to finally make it past the Josa forest knowing what he knows now about the disappearances Nurray had spoken of.

He's headed towards the main city district, looking for a place to catch his breath, maybe figure out his next move, or find a familiar face who might have made it here too.

It's a damned fine coincidence that he spots a very familiar looking woman up ahead, dressed lightly while she casually studies the flowers before her. He approaches, hooking his shield back over his shoulders. ]

Better the warmer weather here than the snowstorm in Nadril, huh?

[ He is, of course, speaking of the first time they'd met, back when the newest wave of refugees had been initiated to the new planet by way of blizzards and ice storms. ]

i. all roads lead to--

[directives]

[ Kathryn is a seasoned explorer, a skilled survivalist who knows how to make do with the bare minimum and knows better than to stop for too long when investigating uncharted territory. It makes her considerably less susceptible to the forest's over accommodating whims than others, and she barely gives the scenery around them a passing glance before responding, ] A little too beautiful.

I!

[summertimeblues]

I guess you could say that.

[Richie doesn't like it. Or rather, he's unsettled by the feeling that he does. Some honeyed sensation that's like sucking back your first lungful of dope.

He bristles. Just to be sure he still can. Yet he still takes a seat at her side, peering out at the saccharine sights.]

I don't think I've seen vegetation this green outside of a holiday special.

thomas nightingale | rivers of london

[ettersberg]

ONE // FOREST

[ the forest is beautiful. the sights change from picturesque to stunning and back, there is frequent birdsong and the path is clear.

even given the sensation of being watched or followed, nightingale has to acknowledge that beauty. he takes it in and files it away because there’s precious little beauty in the world at times, but it isn’t something he finds he can let himself linger on. when he turns to whoever walks with him, it’s with a dry - ]

This is a pleasant walk. Too pleasant, I fear.

TWO // POLLEN (nsfw, m/m)

[ there is nothing remarkable about small, white flowers and nothing remarkable as such about pollen drifting through the air in a forest. there is nothing remarkable about it and that explains while nightingale takes no precaution, while his mind is wholly unguarded against this particular invasion.

he notices it first when his throat grows a little dry, when his eyes drift to his companion’s backside, when he imagines hot kisses and skin sliding against naked skin. he notices it again when his trousers grow too tight, when he has to slow his steps, drag in a deep breath. when his fingers itch to touch his own chest, to slide downward, to press against the bulge of his cock filling out.

it’s need, pure and simple. the need to touch himself or be touched, to feel pleasure, to come. it’s need, and he barely manages to keep his hands still by his side. ]

Pardon me. [ he says, voice quiet and tightly controlled.

if his companion is likewise affected, there’s an obvious solution to both of their needs. if his companion remains unaffected, nightingale will need to find a more private area for a while.

alternatively, someone might stumble across him while he is alone, fully affected, one hand steadying himself against a tree and the other romancing his own body. ]

THREE // METAMORPHOSIS

[ nightingale changes.

he doesn’t realise it as such, but he changes - there are wolf ears atop his head that were not there before, his senses heightened in a new way and a wolf’s tail at the base of his spine.

if he remembered the things he’s seen, this would be horrifying to him - and it will be, later, most likely. if he regains those memories, if he realises how unnatural this is to him. he’s seen chimeras, those whose bodies were magically used with animals. he’s seen it done against their will and the horrible aftermath of it. to him, this is the most ethically challenged of magics.

but he doesn’t remember that.

find him hunting, stalking his prey as a wolf would. find him, too, caring for the young and being protective of those he might think of as being in his pack. alternatively, find him and realise he doesn’t quite remember who you are. ]

FOUR // WILDCARD

[ i’m into prompt two being pretty filthy with aphro stuff and possible voyeurism going on if anyone’s into that, but despite the aphro stuff, it should be between two characters who’ll at least not hate that they had sex with one another afterward. also m/m only. ]

two, awkward stylez.

[bellare]

[ frank hears a strange noise and, thinking it's an animal, stealthily makes his way into the clearing with the objective to catch whatever it is by surprise. but it's him who gets the shock, accidentally watching nightingale for a whole moment before clearing his throat loudly and looking away. he's familiar with how this part of the forest makes people feel, so he isn't that scandalized overall, but he also hadn't meant to sneak up on the other man so he does feel a little bad about it. ]

...Sorry.

T W O

[lednikovyy]

[ Bucky spends some of his trek through the forest alone. Other times, he falls into step with others who are traveling easily, though he's fairly quiet, letting his mind wander as the forest leads them. It's easy to see they've got a common goal and Bucky likes feeling like he's working towards something.

It's his mind wandering that has Bucky missing the effects of the pollen sprinkling his skin and clothes until he, too, is half-hard and huh it's really been a while, hasn't it? Even with most of his memories back, he just hasn't had much of an inclination lately. That doesn't seem to matter much right now, though, does it? He's certainly not averse to it. It just hasn't come up much.

The words pull him out of his thoughts, but when he turns to answer, he keeps his hips angled away in what might be a futile attempt at modesty. ]

You alright?

[ His words are almost clipped off when his eyes move down and he sees that he's not alone in his predicament. ]

dutch | killjoys

[motivation]

[ some closed starters ig, hit me up at abiosis if you'd like to do something with dutch! ]

@rocket

[motivation]

[ people have been disappearing.

it's not new as such; people have been going back to stasis and that's its own kind of disappearing act. she's promised rocket that she wouldn't, but it isn't the sort of thing she or anyone has any kind of control over. (she hates that most of all. that she can't change it, that she can't hate those who leave for leaving her because it isn't their fault. she doesn't know how to move on without that anger.)

people have been disappearing and here she is, investigating those disappearances. combing through the forest for signs of them.

she doesn't expect to find rocket, curled up quite peacefully under a tree. ]

Hey.

@luke

[motivation]

[ she should have expected running into him here. she should have, and while she didn't actually, there's no surprise in her gaze when she does, just a quirk of her lips, amusement that is tinged with something grimmer.

they walk the path together, searching for clues of those that are missing. ]

Someone's been here. [ dutch indicates some branches that have been broken. ]

Prior Walter | Angels in America

[priorly]

OLYMPIA


[Prior's shot through with a wired energy this month, fractious and frenetic. Maybe it's just the phone in his pocket, it's incessant goddamn beeping, or maybe there's a feeling that something's coming due. The city works in cycles, it seems to him, and nothing's been burned or broken in a while. It can only be a matter of time.

Maybe it's just that he's been here a year and it almost feels like the clock's been ticking backwards for most of it. Like he's lost more than he's gained.

But, normal service remains in place for most of the month, and Prior can be found going through the motions of his daily business. Stopping off for coffees loaded with enough sugar to fund a dozen dentists through drilling school, and trying to reverse its effects in the late evenings with drinks at enough quiet little bars to have him wondering if he takes after his mother more than he'd known.

There's work too, of course. He's often to be found at Shades Darker, strewn somewhere around the bar with enough casual familiarity to be easily confused for one of the goods on sale, or napping on one of the silk couches in a back room somewhere, topping up the sleep that never seems to come as easily at home.]



WITHIN THE FOREST

a.]] [Who knows what possessed him to come. That beeping. The idea of another city calling for help and not being heard. Or just not wanting to play the little woman left at home while everyone he knows decamps to this place, as ill suited as he is for camping. He's been slowly peeling off the layers that got him through Nadril's snowstorms since they entered the forest.]

It always feels like a betrayal, sun at this time of year. Like spending Christmas on the West Coast.



b.]] [Of course, the hope is that they'll reach one of the rumored little villages before the threat of having to spend a night under canvas looms too large. The walk isn't proving so bad. Something in the air here's managing to untangle the knots in Prior's muscles. Even his leg's losing its ache.

And the trees are full of distractions. Always something flitting past, just too fast for the eye to follow. The sound of running water. A stone angel unfurling wings built too heavy for flight...

...No, that last one vanishes as soon as he turns his head to look.]

Did you see–

[But turning back brings another mirage into view. Deeper into the forest, walking without purpose, far too familiar even now, even after a year, even from the back, and Prior's running before he knows he's moved at all. Stop him, and the face that turns back to look at you will be uncomprehending, brown eyes flooded with black.]



c.]] [He's not quite lost yet, though the same can't be said for half his clothing. Not just the snowsuit - long gone before they got to the grotto, but gradually layers beneath have been shed too. For someone usually precious about showing skin bruised and marked by traces of sickness, it's proving impossible to get him to keep a shirt on. But maybe the sunlight here's doing some good: his skin's a richer shade of gold, here, dappled with bruises but with something brighter, too.

He's also chewing on leaves, a small stack of them curled into his palm - and one held out just for you.]

It's not as if I'm extolling the virtues of a raw food diet. Mon dieu, people can be so picky. Just try one. They taste like... bitter chocolate. And the feeling, it's like every nerve ending in my body just woke up. I want to touch everything, it's as if I didn't know what touching things was before.



d.]] [He's lasted most of the trip with only small, strange signals of the changes to come. Indicators of things going wrong. Those eyes turning from brown to black and back again. Two hot, hard bumps either side of his head, buried under the thick muss of his hair. Memories slipping - some from a few minutes ago, some of names he's known for months. Gone for a moment, then back, then gone.

But, in the course of traveling between villages, still waiting to understand what within them set off the distress alert, Prior finally goes missing, too. He vanishes from a hostel during the night, and isn't to be found for days. When he is, he's in a different village, where people seem to know him, and where the antlers crowning his head don't seem to be anything worth remarking on.

His former life's gone, or should be. It's a strange thing, though. There are some faces that can't help but stop him short, skittish as he is about strangers and as certain as he can be that he's seen them somewhere before. He watches, frozen stock-still like a mouse in the shadow of something circling above, then tries to shake the sensation off - darting down one of the villages quieter alleys in search of a swift escape.]



WILDCARD.

[You know the drill]

c

[kikoku]

[Law similarly has done away with his own shirt (though, weirdly, he's retained his hat), exposing a variety of tattoos in lieu of any bruises. His exposed skin is marred by a few scars, though, a few small circular ones on his chest, and a larger angrier band of scar tissue arround his upper right arm, as if it'd been cut off.

He's been having an alright time in the grotto, up till now. He has all but a few seconds to note Prior's bruises before he finds something to be more actively concerned about, which is that he's eating a random plant he found in a strange forest.]

Wh- Hold on, do you even know what that plant is?
[He's assuming not, given they all only just got here. You can tell from the exasperated, tired tone in his voice.]

It could be poisonous, it certainly sounds mind-altering.
[You wouldn't expect a guy with this many tattoos to be such a fucking square about drugs, but then again he is also a doctor.]

Olympia

[sweetwater]

[ Cheryl's picked up on Prior's strange energy this month, and has determined to get to the bottom of the situation. she beats him to the coffee shop one morning, and when he shows up she greets him at the door, drinks in hand. ]

Coffee for your thoughts? I had them add enough sugar to give you lifelong health issues.

Olympia

[torchwoodteaboy]

[It's not that Ianto doesn't pay attention to the patrons in the line at the cafe he's found a position at as their resident Front of House/Barista. It's that he's a relatively private man and the handful of people he knows in the city don't usually make it a habit of frequenting this little place without making their presence very known.

So he's focusing more on the drink orders and the polite conversation than the people in front of him -- which is exactly how he manages to be surprised by the face in front of him as Prior steps up to the counter and Ianto launches into his regular spiel, stumbling through the middle of it as his brain catches up with his eyes and he actually recognizes who it is in front of him.]

Welcome to Olympia's Daily Grind, how -- Prior?

D is for Oh Deer

[summertimeblues]

[He'd woken to a cold stretch of sheets where a body should have been. Morning haze made him just fit enough to blink at it, drunken, and crease his cheeks with a frown. His hand patted the mattress as if he might find the missing form wedged under the fitted sheet.

Then, as if a hurricane gale expelled the fog from his mind, Richie bolted up straight. Something was wrong. A cold instinct told him. Not unlike the kinds he'd get in Derry. This one's borne not of godly nudges but of two weeks of conversations gone odd and dreamy. Carding his hands through Prior's hair and frowning at the lumps he would refuse to take to the doc.

He leaps out of bed in a flash. He doesn't bother with contacts, with combed hair or brushed teeth. His legs are stabbed into his jeans and his shirt is rumpled, unbuttoned over the dark tee he'd found on the inn floor. Richie vanishes from the inn, quick as gun smoke.

It takes ten hours to find the village on foot. He stumbles in, dehydrated and plying for a seat at the first joint his weary eyes can make out. He takes a breath, head in hands.]

Water. [He demands of the bartender from the shield of his fingers and palms. Bad idea, Richie, a phantom Eddie chides in his ear. Even excepting what must be lax sanitation standards, you have to remember where you are.

The waters of Lethe. You drink from the river of Hades and you'll forget it all, Trashmouth. Mike. Surrounded by his books and his bided time. He wishes sorely for that frazzled bastard to be sitting at his side now — next to Bill, Mikey would best know what to do.

He's bushwhacked though, and he needs a drink badly. A rest. His panic saw him fleeong without rations, and he's paying for it with sweat and cotton mouth.]

And a moment of your time if you've got it. I'm looking for someone.

bucky barnes | marvel 616

[deadthenred]

1 / The Forest

1.01

[ Of course Bucky responds to the distress signal, even though he's been around the block enough times to suspect he might be walking into a trap. Hell, walking into a trap is something he's real good at. Before things start going south, though, he's in a big group of people moving slowly towards what they hope is their objective, some of them familiar faces, others less so— the way these big refugee roundups go, in other words.

He tries to be affable, and the best way he knows how to do that these days is to mostly keep quiet. But every now and then he'll turn to someone nearby and offer water, or a (gloved, even in the heat) hand, or a word of warning. Sometimes he stops to cut the branches back with his omnipresent knife, but soon they start growing back thicker, leaving him blinking. ]

That's not fair.

[ But they have to keep going, right? ]

1.02

[ After things do start going south, Bucky starts getting real fidgety. He has his own experiences with missing time, and memory, and doesn't much care to see them repeated. He cares even less to see them played out on other people's faces, but it sure seems like that's what's happening.

Then he hears a voice, feminine, beckoning, telling him to put his worries down. ]

Hey— [ He turns to whoever is closest, with the rough edge of urgency in his voice. Maybe they've still got their wits, or maybe they've got a pair of horns starting to sprout that Bucky hasn't noticed in his haste. ] Did you hear that?

[ Before they can answer though, he instinctively reaches for his gun. ]

2 / Boundaries Beyond

2.01

[ After a while Bucky escapes the forest and Dranbu proper, looking for a way to clear his head, maybe get a better sense of how the whole place is laid out. The fog of the goddess isn't as thick on Waco mountain as it is in the forest below, so he immediately feels a bit less blanketed.

Unfortunately, he's still a bit too relaxed, and makes a false step, nearly falling off the mountain and kicking a bunch of rocks and stuff into the path of whoever's below him on the winding, narrow mountain trail, that frankly, isn't much of a trail. ]

Look out!

[ Now he's clinging to the mountain with one hand to keep himself from falling further. Terrific. ]

2.02

[ Later on, after a day's worth of hiking, Bucky stops to rest in one of the ruins, using an old zippo lighter he had from back home to banish some of the shadows. The carving on the wall leaps into prominence, depicting some ancient scene. ]

Damn, dragons again, huh?

[ It feels like there ought to be a clue here, in all of these ruins. He can't recognize three of the figures. ]

3 / Wildcard

[ Whatever I missed. Feel free to contact me/lightfellows for a (very belated) closed starter. Bucky won't be affected by the transformation but I'm happy to have him interact with people who have been transformed still. ]

2.01

[1701]

[ Exploration is the name of the game for Jim at pretty much all times, and in between bounds of trying to herd people out of their weird mental fog and nagging at locals for an audience with this alleged goddess, he's taking a look at all he can.

Mountain climbing, no big deal.

He's aware someone's a few laps ahead of him, but his stops - checking in with people, or trying to gauge if he can detect any differences in psychic influences (nope, he's still a brick) - mean they're out of sight, mostly. Until he ends up rained on, so-- ]

You okay? [ he calls up, shaking debris from his hair. He can't tell just how bad a state the other guy is from this angle, though being able to see him suggests: a precarious one. ]

1.02

[quivers]

[ This place is weird — and it goes to show just how weird this place is by the fact that Kate is so conscious of that fact. Because she's seen plenty of weird, captured mouthfuls of it as she skip and hopped through starlit portals across multiple dimensions. But she's gone through this forest, noticing the spooks, how paranoia seems to glisten with each onward step.

And maybe she's beginning to realize that there aren't as many of them as they'd started out with. Which is where the weird is, because she was so sure she was keeping track of that.

Only now it's just Bucky in her sights, someone she knows at least remains constantly on his toes — hopefully. ]

Hear what? The creepy ominous silence of perpetual doom? Yeah, it's practically screaming right now.

juno steel / the penumbra podcast

[stuns]

all roads lead to—

[ there are no woods on mars.

wyver's undergrowth was juno's first experience with such a plethora of trees. and this here is the second. it's a hell of a lot different than the undergrowth however, juno's discovering as he moves cautiously along the smooth paths where the trees are dense on all sides, but filtering light from the sun in through their leaves. it's a warm day, or maybe it's just the woods themselves. juno's not sure... do trees generate heat? they definitely don't last time he checked. but who knows. this place is goddamn magic or whatever, right?

he doesn't go about this strolling leisurely, rather he's as alert as he can possibly be, head lifted high and steps brisk.

for maybe the first half hour. after thirty minutes, all bets are off because the path juno's walking breaks out into a clearing that the sheer sight of fills him with a sense of... uneasy calm. there's a perfect tree sitting in the middle of it, branches swaying in a faint breeze. there's a niggling exhaustion that's wearing away at his bones like gnawing teeth, heavy in the back of his mind and the closer he moves towards it the slower his steps become. he squints a little bit, touching his temples as the warmth of the sun gets to him enough that he has to shrug his coat off, that he seeks out the shade of the tree, that he drops down in a heap of tired bones and muscle and rests his head back against the tree.

it's... nice.

so maybe you catch juno unawares, having a nap underneath a picturesque tree with his coat drawn over him like a blanket.

or maybe he's ventured into the woods with you and you're looking for him after splitting up. an errant branch or turned over stone make a loud enough call of his name that cases juno jerks up from his dozing and reaches for his blaster that he's placed off to the side.

and instead ends up holding up a random stick instead, scrambling back.

whatever works.]

barthala's grotto—

[ it's hot. way too hot to keep investigating hard.

it's gotten to the point where after a good rifling around through bushes, plants, undergrowth, rocks, and trees, he's stopped by a stream that's running through the grotto. off to the side, he's dropped his boots and his coat and blaster, though they aren't far out of reach. but it's time for a break, just a little one. one that involves splashing handfuls of cold, clear water on his face while wading ankle deep into the chilled water.

immediately it feels like a fire is being put out on his skin, and he glances over and whoever he's been walking the woods with, water dripping from his hands as he gives a kind of crooked smile (congrats, maybe it's heat stroke.) ]

Water's not bad. You should come on in.

influences (21+)

[ pp me at shibes @ plurk or on discord at shibes#9000 if you would like this option! i'd prefer this to happen with already established cr, please. ]

all roads

[lemonadecandies]

[The clearing drags on her, pulling at her alertness and reshaping it into an eerie calm. She recognizes it as not quite right, but at the same time only presses lightly against it, a gentle resistance to the fog settling over her mind.]

[It's harmless. For now, it's harmless. And there's nothing else she needs to be doing right this second.]

[Then again, it becomes easier to resist when she sees someone else in front of her, spread out under his coat in a gangly pile of limbs. Sleeping, she realizes, kneeling next to him with a quizzical stare. And she recognizes him. It's Kagari's friend.]

[Kagari's friend. She's all softness and light over it, the nature of the clearing weaving in tight knit with the warm feeling of gratitude to this place that she can't escape.]

Juno-san? [Gently, precisely pronounced. She sits back on her heels, hands pressed to her knees.] I don't think this is a good place to sleep.

Takasugi Shinsuke | Gintama

[shikomizue]

The Hunt

[Food is plentiful in the villages of Dranbu, but Takasugi has become a feral thing. Sleek ears, a thin tail, and slit pupils may imbue him with the look of a house cat, but people are the last thing he's interested in. He slinks away from those exploring the forest, and its paths never bring him to the hamlets nestled within.

Instead they bring him live dinner, a large jackrabbit nibbling cautiously on some underbrush. Poised just out of sight, downwind, Takasugi watches his prey crack twigs piece by piece. It's alert, any sudden movement will send it scurrying in escape. He'll need to wait until the vermin moves itself, aligning his first steps with the pads of its feet on the soil.

The rabbit straightens, ears piqued. Ready to move on to the next berry bush-
And then your footsteps startle it. Takasugi can't hope to catch it as it retreats through the bramble, scrambling for a hole in the dirt.

What he can do, however, is take you as prey instead. Takasugi rushes the intruder from the side, intending to pounce and tackle his new meal to the ground. Claw-like nails bared, he's ready to sink his teeth into neck tendons unless something stops him.]

Influences

[There's no subtlety to the way Takasugi has sprawled himself in the field of "aromatic grass" that sprawls over a particular corner of the forest. Rubbing his head back into the foliage crushes the leaves enough to strengthen their scent - it leaves a sweet, intoxicating taste in his mouth without him ever nibbling on it.

He could crunch it up and smoke it, but his pipe has gone forgotten in his yukata. The garment is splayed more open than usual. Between his new feral inclination, and the sublime experience of watching the clouds while grass tickles his skin, he doesn't have the capacity to care about his state of dress.

A faint line of red dashes across his cheeks, blood flushed. In a moment of absolute serenity, the sky a clear blue with nothing to see but the vastness of it, Takasugi wonders...

Can he even stand?

Sitting up is a chore that leaves him dizzy, and swinging his arms in front of himself sends him reeling. Forward, and back into the grass. He'll try again, onto his knees and then slowly upwards this time. He makes it to his feet, for a moment, before swaying from side to side.

And falling back into the grass.]

All Roads Lead To (Pre-Established CR)

[Somehow, your scent is familiar. Rotting wood, harsh liquor, blood - it's all wholly nostalgic, for a place Takasugi can't remember. He follows silently, stalking through the woods from the moment he realizes the presence of another. What he's hoping to gain, he doesn't know, and that's why he keeps to himself.

Silently pursuing an answer to a question he doesn't even have.

Notice him, and he'll still. Slink downwards, eyes unblinking on the potential threat staring back at him. Leave him be, and he'll linger even when you sleep. Emboldened by the stranger's unconsciousness, Takasugi will approach. Draw close, face to face, breath falling against skin, as he stares and tries to place what's so familiar.

What makes his chest ache when he looks at you.]

The Hunt or catfight??

[milesedgelord]

[Unfortunatly, his time in the woods had taken its effect on Miles as well. Slim silver ears poked out of his head and a long tail twitched behind him. Like Takasugi, Miles also had a very distinct house cat appearance. He made his way through the forest slowly. He had forgotten what he had come in for but was enjoying the warm sun on his face, though a bird a few feet away had caught his interest. His eyes narrowed and he stared at it as it sang. It was fat and juicy and he bet that it would taste pretty good after he had a chance to play with it for a while.

Crouching down he made his way towards it when suddenly he was overtaken from the side. His ears flattened to his head and he hissed and twisted underneath him. He made some batting motions at his assailant's face, in an effort to push him off.]

Captain Jack Harkness | Doctor Who/Torchwood

[faceofbeau]

All roads lead to... a different grotto? [Open]
There's something about being planetside, out in the open- in a forest even- that's more refreshing than words can say. Not that Jack's ever been all that much for forests, but there's something to be said for nature, and for mankind's tendency of embracing it. And, after the year he'd had, well. The fresh air is a welcome change. So welcome, in fact, that he finds it almost hard to remember his purpose, why he's out here; there are lives at stake, people have gone missing. They need to be found. Since his continued search of the stasis pods had yielded no results yet, and he still wasn't ready to face Ianto, answering the call to find Dranbu and its missing residents had seemed the perfect opportunity. Yet, now that he's here...

It should disturb him, probably, how easily his attention slides. How often he finds himself thinking not of the search, not of a mysteriously missing village and its people, but of the forest in which he searches. The air is fresh, cool and soothing; the lush vegetation, so much of it unique and alien, is fascinating, the scents of the flora far more pleasant than the sterile air of the station, or the acrid smoke of the Valiant before that. The wildlife, well. It's stayed out of sight, out of reach, present but elusive, nothing more than shadows through the trees, a distant sensation of eyes upon him, watching from afar, but nothing to be concerned about. It should disturb him, how easy it is to focus on how inviting all of it is, rather than on his search... but it doesn't.

Instead, it's simply... pleasant. Inviting. Everything about the forest is inviting, welcoming. And, really, it's the perfect escape from everything he's been struggling with both before and after waking up here on the station. So when he comes across a overhung grotto tucked deep into the forest, set at the end of a burbling stream, he doesn't hesitate to stop and take a bit of refuge there. There's a lone tree within the grotto, nestled just by the water side and glowing a luminescent green that catches Jack's eye. It's here that he makes his way to, finding a spot among the tree's large old roots to sit and rest, a lone dark form within the warm glow of the wood.

His eyes slide closed as he sits; he doesn't sleep, the need for sleep long in his past, but he might appear to be asleep at first glance. It's not until he hears footsteps through the undergrowth of the grotto that he ruins that appearance of sleep by callng out with a bit of a smile.

"Care to join me?"



A Hunt... of sorts. [Open]
He's not hungry really. Not that the tantalizing scent of prey isn't enticing, not that he wouldn't enjoy the taste of fresh meat, he's just. Full, mostly. He'd been lucky enough that, not even half an hour ago, he'd come across a large gathering of scaleberries that had been perfectly ripe. They'd made a delicious dinner, and he'd even tucked some into the pouch slung around his hips to take back to Prior, but while they'd satisfied his stomach, they hadn't satisfied his need to hunt. So here he is now, stalking through the forest after- well, someone. He's not sure exactly who, he hasn't caught sight of them yet, but he'd heard them as they trampled loudly through the forest, and he'd thought.

Why not? It could be fun to meet someone new. And why not have some fun with them while he was at it?

There's a clearing up ahead, he knows, having passed by it before. His large, triangular ears shift forward, taking in the sounds of his 'prey' as they move. From the sound of it, they're just now entering the clearing; it's a perfect ambush point. Jack grins toothily, his sharpened fangs showing, were there anyone close enough to see, and he moves stealthily towards the edge of the clearing. Behind him, his long, bushy tail twitches to one side, then the other, a clear indicator of how much he's enjoying himself; the sandy red fur- the same shade as most of the incredibly fine fur that covers his exposed skin, save the white strip that runs down his neck and the insides of his arms- is puffed out with excitement. Then, he's reached the edge of the trees, and it's there that he crouches in the shadows of the undergrowth, just out of sight.

He considers actually pouncing, but decides against it for now. He doesn't know the stranger out there in the clearing yet, doesn't know how they would react. Instead, he calls out, his voice as teasing as his wide grin,

"You know, if this were an actual hunt, as lovely as you look? I think I'd rather enjoy getting a taste of you in more ways than one."



Your new (new) life... and where the hell did your artwork go? [Open]
The small store tucked into the edge of the market that Jack calls his own doesn't have much up by way of display at the moment. Somehow, and he has no idea how, he's seems to have lost all of his artwork; it's more than a little frustrating. There's not much he can do for it at the moment, as he's looked everywhere, asked around to everyone he could find, and no one's seen any of it. It seems he just has to roll with it, and start anew- and start he has. There's only two paintings on the walls to show for his art; one of a rather handsome man of the feline persuasion, laid out on a chaise with not a scrap of clothing to act ask any kind of modesty, done in bold strokes and colors; the other painting is done in even more vibrant colors, a clear portrayal of the very market the store is set it, the varying people milling the market done is quick, undetailed strokes.

And then there's Jack himself. He's in the middle of working on another painting, sitting near the front of his stall in clear view of the market. The subject of his painting is tucked out of any clear sight-line of the market, half hidden behind a hanging curtain; she's as nude as the day she was born, posed carefully in a twisting form that looks like it would take some skill to achieve. Every so often Jack looks from his canvas to his subject and back again with clear concentration; the animation of his bushy tail, its black tip flicking in all different directions belies his otherwise still form, as does the way his large ears shift back and forth with every sound from the market.

When the sound of footsteps catch his ears, they twitch visibly, and after he finishes his current stroke, he looks up to see who's approached his booth. His grin is warm and wide, disarming and a clear change form the look of concentration he'd borne before, and as he sets his brush down, he offers,

"Well hello. My name's Jack. Are you looking for a piece of work, or maybe looking for some work? I'm in the market for models at the moment."


[OOC: For the last two prompts, think fennec fox for Jack's animal characteristics. He has large triangular fox ears; extremely fine sandy red fur covers most of his body, although it fades to white along his front and the insides of his limbs; his teeth are noticeably sharper than normal, with all of them resembling more pointed human canines; his tail is bushy and full, hanging down to his knees when still, and is tipped in black fur; his nails are noticeably sharp and somewhat claw like, although they still look mostly like human nails.]

Your new (new)... lover? [Closed to Ianto Jones & Prior Walter]

[faceofbeau]

[For Prior]
"I brought you a treat."

The words are a greeting, delivered with a warm, wide smile as Jack sweeps into the little place that they've called home for... well, he can't remember exactly how long they've been here for, but it certainly feels like a lifetime. He moves about the main room with the ease of familiarity, dropping a leather pouch onto the little table before where Prior is sitting. It lands with a gentle thud that betrays the carefulness with which he'd actually set in down, in contrast to the way he'd originally swung it off from where it had been fastened at his hip. He leans, then, on the arm of the couch beside the other man, his tail swaying languidly back and forth for a moment before finally draping down to rest along Prior's shoulders. Inside the pouch, should Prior look, is a collection of ripe scaleberries; most are whole, but there are a few of the tops left from where Jack hadn't quite been awhile to stop nibbling at them.

"How was your day? Anything exciting happen?"



[For Ianto (& later, Prior)]
It's the end of the day, and Jack has only just finishing closing up his little shop. He's finished a third painting to add to the stall walls for display- or sale, if anyone takes a shine to it- and he'd dismissed his model only half an hour ago with a warm smile, a kiss to her cheek, and a promise to call her again sometime, maybe when he was ready to start replacing his lost sculptures rather than paintings. His purse is light- as it's likely to be until he's created more works to sell- and he's in the mood for some fresh air after being in his stall at the busy market all day. It's with that thought in mind that rather than taking the short and direct route, he heads out into the forest surrounding Dranbu for a 'long way home' to his lover. Prior shouldn't mind a little delay, and if he does, well, he can always come looking for Jack- he's not straying too far into the forest, after all.

He takes his time with his stroll; the forest, blessed by Barthalla as it is, is always inviting, always enticing. His gait is easy, slow and steady; his tail moves smoothly behind him, swaying as it pleases, occasionally catching a leaf or twig here or there. He doesn't pay it any mind- he can always brush out the sandy red fur later, and it's more trouble than its worth to worry about it now. His ears twitch this way and that as he takes in the sounds of the forest, and the more distant din of the village beyond that. Then they perk, as they catch something much closer than he'd expected.

Jack stills, even the motion of his tail pausing mid-swing, and his brows furrow. His large, triangular ears shift forward, to catch as much sound as possible, and his chin raises as he sniffs at the air. There's someone nearby- and headed his way. Someone unhappy, if the sound of oddly lilted cursing is any indication. Maybe they're lost?

It doesn't take much to follow the voice and the ruckus they make as they shove through the forest underbrush, and it's only a few minutes later that Jack finds the man behind the noise; he's clearly not from Dranbu or either of the other local village, not with how clearly unfamiliar he is with the forest, and Jack has to bite back a laugh as he realizes that the man's clothing is caught up in some brush. He moves forward without a thought, reaching with claw and finely furred hands to tug expertly at the plant holding him hostage.

"Here, let me help."

Bucky Barnes | Marvel Cinematic Universe

[lednikovyy]

G R O T T O
There's a peace in the forest that Bucky can't deny. He's on a mission, but it's easy to lose a little of that as he wanders on his own. He knows which way to go and he isn't worried about getting lost as he finds his own path through the trees. The forest seems to offer him what he needs, whether it's a place to sleep or the gently running water he sees as he starts to feel grimy and worn down. It's almost too perfect with the colorful butterflies and the lush green plants, but it's so inviting and he wants nothing more than to strip down and wash off the day's grime in the water.

Carefully, he strips down and folds his clothes, resting them on his boots next to his bag. With no one around, he doesn't think to be self-conscious of his metal left arm or the massive scarring where it connects to his shoulder. He even tries to tie his hair up in a bun, but it's a little too short to stay up neatly and some of it still falls down around his face as he steps into the cool water.

I N F L U E N C E
(CW: NSFW, M/M or M/F)
It's after Bucky's washed himself that he takes his time drying off before he bothers to get dressed. In that time, the little weeds have sprinkled their pollen on the ground and his clothes. It sticks to his feet and though he shakes his clothes, it still clings to them and rubs against his skin. Still, he feels cleaner than he had before and though it's a little itchy, it's nothing he can't ignore as he sits on the ground to lace his boots.

He doesn't think much of the pollen until feels a familiar old feeling low in his gut. It's not something he's felt a real pull towards in a while, but it's hard not to recognize it, especially when his pants are feeling pretty tight.

With a groan, he reaches down to adjust himself. He really should get going, but even that feels pretty good and he's alone here, anyway, so maybe he could just take a few minutes for himself here. He huffs and settles back against a tree to open his pants again. It'll only be a few minutes and this isn't any weirder than taking care of himself during the war. Maybe it's less weird, even.


[ I would prefer characters who are mid-20's or older for the second prompt and 18+ for the first one, but if you'd like to do something different, hit me up by PM or at blauren to plot something else. ]

grotto—

[quivers]

She's convinced she's facing some mad mood swings, and she probably is, but there's a sudden light step in her feet as she makes her way through the pathways painted by luminous flowers of every color. Something easing in center of her chest, where tense clutches had her panicking over the sudden loss of her companions (where are they, does it matter, no, it doesn't matter). But for all the pep she usually offers in the exterior on a day to day basis, it's the first she feels it internally, her muscles loose in the calming serenity of the forest's song.

When she finds him, he's already bare from head to toe, her eyes magnetizing to the trails of old scars marking the long history of his brutish battles, the most notable around where the sleek metal attaches to his limb.

The long locks that fall upon his neck tell her this isn't the same one she's more familiar with, the one she's sure is the man she knows from her old home — no, this is a different one, which doesn't come as a surprise from someone who's grown accustomed to the complications of multiple worlds. All the same, something stills her when she finds him, her hands moving subconsciously to the quiver on her back, letting it slouch down to the stones below her feet, her bow following suit.

She doesn't even notice the way her index finger hooks onto the circular zipper at her chest, teasing at it when an itch to pull it down, the spandex on her body suddenly the most uncomfortable it's ever been.

With a clear voice, she calls out, "Mind the company?"

Caleb Widogast | Critical Role

[breadmuffs]

all roads lead to
[Caleb does not trust easy. He does not trust good. This forest is not safe, and the fact that something is trying to make it so appealing only makes it more wrong. After all, they're here because of suspicious disappearances. So. This is all very wrong.

Luckily for Caleb, the forest can't - for the most part - offer up any of his more compelling desires. He fairly easily walks past pretty glades of flowers and comfortable resting spots. In fact, if he sees anyone in his vicinity looking like they're thinking of stopping, he'll definitely make some dry remark about how they should think twice about gifts that are so freely given.

Except. At some point as he's walking, there's a rustle in some bushes a ways off the path he (and possibly other people) is heading down. Caleb stops short as if anticipating something terrible. What really emerges....is a cat. An orange tabby kitten.  Caleb stares at it with a mixture of caution and fondness. It's so small.]

....A moment.

[Is he walking towards the kitten? Yes. Yes he is.]

your new new life
[One minute Caleb is trekking through the forest beside his friends and the next...

He's not quite the same Caleb Widogast that he was before. Not to be found in any of his usual haunts, not to be found anywhere in particular for about a day or two. But then, if you're around Dranbu or out in the forest, you might stumble upon a scruffy (but not quite as scruffy as before) man going about his life.

His new, quiet life. In the forest, he can be found collecting spell components here and there. He's picking flowers and leaves or (fairly gracefully) scaling trees to get fruit or feathers from a nest. He has new adornments in the form of stripy brown ears and a tail. And maybe some wicked looking fingernails that are closer to claws than anything.

....He's still a little skittish even in this strange other life, which means that if you surprise him he'll end up hissing defensively for a moment, tail puffing up even as his shoulders hunch. But if you need a guide through the forest back to town, he'll be obliging. If maybe a bit distracted by wildlife.

Or catch him around Dranbu, probably with his nose in a book. Probably specifically behind the counter of a small bookshop. There's definitely a small green...goblincat who finds her way in and out from time to time.

It's a nice life. But then again, what does he have to compare it to? It's the only one he's ever known.]

wildcard
(got another idea? Caleb is disappearing into cat-form pretty quick, but pre-change Dranbu is possible. So are other Josa locations! The only thing off the table is smut. I can be reached at ltmutiny for plotting.)

all roads lead to

[thedarkbond]

[At that moment, the bushes behind the kitten begin to rustle again, the sound indicative of something more person-sized. Sure enough, what emerges is...a person, with an overall manner as if he just wandered in here from points unknown. Ren's not exactly physically imposing, with a skinny form and delicate features (and some loose leaves sticking out of his long red hair, since he's been off the path for a little while now), and he seems to spot the kitten again before he spots Caleb.]

Oh, there you are-- [He takes two steps forward and then pauses as he realises there's another person present. His only response to that is to give Caleb a bright wave of greeting, though, and call over in an airy, light voice.] Were you going to follow it too? It's a cute one, isn't it?

Peter Nureyev | Penumbra Podcast

[rosebyanyother]

within the forest


a
[All truth be told, Peter isn't quite that concerned about Nurray's missing people. He is, on the other hand, curious about the general circumstances of their disappearance and this strange forest. It behooves him to know as much about El Nysa as he can. This is one aspect.

It means he's out and about quite a bit within the forest's strangely accommodating reaches. For the most part, idyllic glades and peaceful resting places don't interest him. But Peter is always interested in the new and the interesting and...perhaps the forest plays into that. Guiding his steps towards enthralling vistas and unique sites.

One such area is most certainly that fairy ring. He should probably be more cautious about where he steps and what he does, but once he realizes that the inside of the ring gives him the power to create - however ephemerally - he takes to it with gusto. Towering stone edifaces with foliage creeping up the architecture seem to be his favorite. Anyone who runs across him and catches his attention will get an exhilarated smile and a nod towards his creations.]

What do you think?

[There's also that cave behind the waterfall. You can find Peter at the water's edge (possibly stripping down to jump in) or - if you've already decided to explore on your own - behind the water's curtain. It's not as interesting as he'd hoped, but the space is very aesthetically pleasing. (And just maybe this little exploration has happened at dusk. In which case he is all warm smiles for the person entering the space with him.]

Come, sit down. It's so peaceful in here.

[He's really all over the forest, as well as Dranbu village. Catching poking pretty much everywhere, conversing with villagers and asking them many, many questions about their lives.]

b (18+ and male only, please!)

It's probably inevitable, with the amount of poking around he's doing, that Peter gets himself into a...predicament.

He doesn't even notice the cluster of unassuming white flowers but he does notice when a waft of pollen drifts into his face, settling in his hair and making him cough. Well then!! It is a forest, after all.

It takes him a little longer to notice the effects of the pollen. At first it's just warmth, but then...he's traversed through Barthala's grotto and found it unseasonably warm. He doesn't pay the warmth much mind. Until it starts pooling in his stomach. Until his skin tingles.

Until he can't ignore certain bodily urges. Really, he should make it back to Dranbu. The forest is a dreadfully open place to ~engage~ in particular activities. This forest holds specific unknown dangers. Peter should not stop.

He does. There's one of those delightfully picturesque and inviting resting places up ahead. Curved roots, even a blind of bushes. Grass and pretty flowers. It's perfect.

A little too perfect. So instead of stretching out down below, Peter stands. One shoulder against the rough bark and eyes already heavily-lidded. One hand slips down the skin of his stomach to tease beneath the band of his pants while the other grips the tree behind him. Grounding himself a bit in realness.]

b ;)))))

[1701]

[ It's Jim's third - second? forth? - venture into the forest, in between the outskirts and Dranbu, determined to find answers, or find anyone else. He's evaded the strange influence so far, endrunning its attempts to shuffle him into distraction .. until now, feeling warm and fuzzy. ]

This is dumb, [ he mutters to himself as he trudges through the annoyingly appealing, beautiful setting, ] this is a myth, this doesn't happen, this is something the xenobiology flora professors tell you to scare the prudes and--

Alex?