❪ 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

Comments

[rosebyanyother]

[Peter doesn't seem perturbed by the observation at all. He chuckles lightly and shrugs.]

Maybe it does.

[He keeps getting stuck watching Juno. They're supposed to be enjoying a picnic, but Juno is just...plucking flowers. And Peter is watching him. Watching him raise the flower up. Watching him stretch out on the blanket.

...It actually takes him a moment to respond to Juno's question. He's got his knife and fork poised over his food, but he isn't eating. Actually, Peter realizes, his mouth is a little bit...dry?

He clears his throat, licks his lips, manages to tear his eyes away from Juno to reach for his glass again.]

Anything's possible. [He raises his eyebrows at Juno a bit, with that familiar look of indulgence mixed with chiding.] You're not eating, Detective.

[stuns]

[ the pause doesn't go without notice - but then again, this entire place feels like it's sort of... stopped itself. the sound of the grass shifting softly is the only indicator of movement still. he tosses his head a little bit, shifting his shoulders some. the way the ground fits beneath the blanket, beneath his shoulders, feels really good. ] In a minute - [ let him have this.

he's about to keep going, except for when he takes a breath. the faint clicking his throat makes as he swallows nothing but air mid-phrase and -

it's a warm smell, spices from some far off planet. he's not sure how he didn't catch it when they were walking, how he hasn't really lingered on it before.

he drops the flower onto his chest. ]

You're wearing it.

[ he doesn't mean to blurt it out so suddenly, like he's half stuck in a dream and the link to that is the goddamn smell of peter nureyev. he tightens his teeth together behind his lips shortly after because that's? embarrassing? what do you say, "i still remember what your cologne smells like"? no no no no no, that's dumb. but it's already been said, hasn't it as he finds nureyev's eyes with his.

reflexive almost, he sits up and takes the empty glass meant for him, pouring a drink for himself and absolutely Pretending He Didn't Say That (a novel). ]

[rosebyanyother]

[If the first pause was noticeable, then the second one will be too. It's longer, because...well...he has to push past the image of Juno, lying on the blanket, practically writhing. His breathing has perhaps gone half a notch shallower.

Alright, not WRITHING, exactly. But it's simple for his imagination to make the leap from Juno tossing his head and shimmying his shoulders to...a little more of a full-body movement.

So. It takes him a moment or two. To process when Juno interrupts himself to blurt something out. It takes him those moments to truly understand what Juno is talking about. And in his defense, it's not the clearest statement. But, process of elimination says....]

I usually am, Juno.

[Peter sounds amused. He is amused, at the way Juno bolts upright. Amused, but also...a little disappointed. He'd been...enjoying watching him lying on the blanket.]

I'm a little surprised you didn't notice before.

[stuns]

Yeah well...

[ he's fighting for the words when a quip would come naturally to him. the scent is brighter, more noticeable than before. it almost feels like the first time as he drags his hand along the back of his neck, down the side, holding it sheepishly. he tries to avoid eye contact, but ultimately it's hard to stray too far from them.

nureyev has those eyes that really drag you in. or maybe the whole packages just drags juno in headfirst, like those old earth stories about mermaids and sailors, except nureyev's sea is the stars and juno's never left the shoreline, just looked out and held onto the longing. ]

Look, I noticed, okay. I notice a lot of things. It's just...

[ it's just what? he asks himself, brow drawing, but only lightly. there's a slope to his shoulders, the tension and the fight in him more flustered than usual, held back and he feels it. a creeping heat up his spine, up his throat. it's dizzying, like blood loss, but with a sweeter taste to it. ] It's nice, this close up.

[rosebyanyother]

I'm glad you like it.

[Peter still sounds amused, but it has an added warmth to it now. Watching Juno closely, he can see those signs of tension. Of Juno holding something back. What, though?

...As an experiment, perhaps, Peter lets one of his hands brush across the blanket between them, grazing Juno's fingertips in the process.]

It's nice to hear that it wasn't just the blood loss talking, last time.

[stuns]

I tried real hard.

[ not to say anything. ]

But losing that much blood makes me honest.

[ he remembers it, sometimes finds the scar on his arm before he sleeps, thinks of it now as fingertips reach over and brush his own. there's an electrifying sensation to it, a snap of synapses and heat as his own fingers reach outwards, touch nureyev's knuckles and climb them like a vine to a trellis without hesitation.

something in the back of his head wants to claw its way forward, something like common sense or the idea that something's a little off maybe, but it's getting muzzy and warm the longer he feels just nureyev's knuckles beneath his fingertips. enough that he takes his hand beyond just brushing the tips of their fingers, turns it over briefly, lifts the pulse of it to his mouth like it'll cool the way his entire face feels like it's on fire. ]

[rosebyanyother]

[Oh. Oh.

Peter just goes very still as Juno's hand creeps on top of his, though a deeper, more pleased smile makes its way onto his face. He hums in appreciation. And then--

Then Juno is taking it a step further, kissing his pulse, and oh.

Peter prides himself on being savvy and cool. Collected. But the way that Juno brushes his lips against Peter's wrist sends his pulse racing like a horse out of a gate. Quite against any wish to make this seem relaxed or easy, he finds himself breathing in unsteadily.]

W-well. [Pull yourself together, Peter. He uses his other hand to smooth his hair back reflexively, like it will help him to calm down.] I do appreciate honesty.

[Said the...thief.]

[stuns]

[ everything feels so goddamn hyper-sensitized in the moment he presses his mouth to nureyev's pulse. the kick it gives against his lips, the way it frantically beats on his mouth when he lingers. it betrays his voice, which is almost as steady as it usually is.

and there's something kind of thrilling about that. so much so that it surges to the forefront of juno's mind, a pleasant little thrill that he can make nureyev jump like that. ] You put it here,

[ a half smile, an indignant little huff caught in his throat following. ] — which is weird. Who does that?

[ his fingers hesitate briefly, trailing up so far as nureyev's elbow, wanting to touch, thumbing along the contour of his arm. his brow draws a bit, like he's trying to remember something, and he feels like maybe he's? forgetting? except he's got something else he wants to investigate now and that's: ] Where else?

[rosebyanyother]

Plenty of people do that.

[Faintly indignant without any bite behind it at all.

Following the initial touch, Peter settles a bit. His pulse isn't beating any less quickly, but he eases into the sensation of Juno's breath against his skin, of his lips moving. Well. He mostly eases into it. His breath catches at odd moments. Especially when Juno's fingers start moving again.

It's...strange, this sense that he's the one being seduced. When Juno asks that question, Peter smiles again, pleased and warm. If that isn't a question with a purpose, he'll be very surprised.]

Here. [His free hand hovers at the dip between his clavicles, the bottom of his throat, fingers just barely brushing it.] And here.

[Tilting his head to one side slightly to bare his neck, the back of two fingers resting against the pulse point just below his jaw.

Then he waits expectantly, breath trembling ever so slightly.]

this is called: you dropped me a tag like this at lunch and i had to answer it asap

[stuns]

[ juno moves and almost doesn't realize it at first, one knee and then the other, pushing up just a bit to where nureyev's fingertips graze his throat. there's a dip where bone meets and a shiver of a pulse and he only knows this because instead of reaching out with a hand, he leads with the tip of his nose brushing the line of his throat.

he lingers because he can, because nureyev isn't moving away yet and his fingers find the breadth of his shoulders, pull him a little closer in a way that's more suggestion than demand.

and then an admission: ] I never could get it out of my head.

[ the brushing of lips against that pulse, no kissing, simply skimming their way up his jaw because he can, because nureyev's skin is soft and warm and his jaw is lean and pretty. ] My office, my clothes...

[rosebyanyother]

[A suggestion is all it takes, and Peter gives, swaying forward towards Juno. A breathless chuckle bubbles up at the way that Juno noses at his throat. Otherwise, his breath shivers in and out as he continues to hold himself still. As if doing too much will spook Juno from his course.]

Perhaps I'm selfish but--

[Juno is exploring his way across Peter's skin and it is intoxicating and distracting. He arches his head even more, giving Juno all the access he could want while one of his hands alights - butterfly soft - on Juno's shoulder.]

I'm glad. That I was still with you.

[That Juno couldn't forget him.]

[stuns]

[ nureyev sways into him and it reminds juno of the sway of the grass, the trees, the way they lean towards the sun. he moves forward just that much more, other hand coming up to slide against his chest. there's no spooking him at this point, he feels rooted here on his knees now, mouth brushing just faintly now over the curve of his chin and then up against his mouth.

still with you.

he hesitates a moment, doesn't falter so much as he lets out a faint huff, like a laugh. his voice leaves him and it's a little hoarse. ]

Yeah, well...

[ fingers skimming up into his hair — ]

You're... kind of the best thing that's happened to me. [ — he feels like he's cracking just a bit in the heat of it all. blood loss isn't the other thing that makes him honest, maybe — ] in a long time, Nureyev.

[ and he presses his mouth down the rest of the way, barely a hair's breadth from his lips. ]

[rosebyanyother]

[Oh.

He's heard that before from Juno's lips and...a shiver runs down his spine because the last time he heard it was under wildly different circumstances. From behind a door, angry and scared. Feeling hopeless because this impossible, stupid, lovely lady was about to give his life away and there was nothing he could do about it.

And now? It's a warm day, Juno's lips are just barely at the corner of his mouth. Juno is before him and it seems like he's not going anywhere.

The sound Peter makes is uncharacteristically strained as he turns his head incrementally to properly catch Juno's lips. As he pulls him in as close as close can be.]

[stuns]

[ it seemed right. to say it again properly this time, instead of when he's certain he's going to die. nureyev pulls him close and he moves with him, pulling at his shirt a little more eagerly now, kissing him in a way that he only knows how because he's done it before — with a hungry desperation because it's been next to forever and the pounding in his blood is urging, urging, urging.

and he wants him, there's no doubt about it.

maybe it helps that he feels flush and maybe it helps that nureyev's skin is warm to the touch, his lips are soft and feeling like home in the middle of nowhere, his body pressed to his is close enough that when he breathes he can fall right into him. there's something so irrevocably irresistible, as if there isn't normally, as if something's off but it only tips into his mind briefly and extricates itself.

his fingertips find the fold of his shirt, slip against the jut of nureyev's collarbone, trace with one callused finger where he'd pointed to before splaying a little more beneath the fabric. ]

[rosebyanyother]

[Encouraged by the way Juno kisses him, Peter's hand slips from one shoulder to the opposite one so that his arm curls across both his shoulders.

There is something in the back of his mind, too, that says that this is dangerous and not quite right but...Peter lives for danger. It only makes the circumstance that much more appealing, for him.

Juno's fingers splay beneath his shirt and Peter sighs almost immediately. It's no surprise that his skin is warm because he feels warm. Too warm, overheating. His free hand comes up to begin to unbutton his own shirt and there's a tremble to him. Strange, for the sure-fingered thief.]

[stuns]

[ it is strange, but, but he isn't going to question it just yet, not when there's more of nureyev for him to touch now, to kiss. he drags him in close by one open end of the shirt, his hand now slowly moving down the line of his chest, over his stomach. he meets his trembling fingers somewhere in the middle, thumb skimming thumb, finding a button and tugging it free, then another, and then one more, and by this point juno believes that nureyev has too many buttons to warrant undoing in full anymore.

and he's just too clothed in general.

it's hot, really hot, and he pushes nureyev down with the last button, fingers splayed over his breastbone, mouth trailing along his throat now, teeth and pressure and hunger, enough to leave a mark, and then another, a trail that will bruise later on. ]

[rosebyanyother]

[Peter chuckles but there's something almost...stunned about it, as Juno rushes to help him unbutton his shirt and then abandons it entirely. Up until the moment when Juno's lips leave his, he's kissing him hungrily now too. His pulse pounds.

And keeps pounding, especially when Juno bears down on hip, pressing him back against the blanket. Peter yields, again, his hand slipping up into Juno's curls to hold on tightly.

There's teeth now, and he groans softly as Juno leaves his trail. Ever so slightly, he presses down on Juno's head. Not to guide him anywhere. As if to urge him for more roughness. Because that feels like passion and a certain need and...Peter is greedy and wants every sign he can get that Juno wants him.]