now it's in the past and i'm stuck here.

[nightmarist]

WHO: Residents of the Meadows & OPEN to visitors
WHERE: The Meadows outside De Chima
WHEN: Throughout June
WHAT: Day-to-day encounters at the magical farm commune.
WARNINGS: Look to the subject headers.
NOTES: This is a mingle/catch-all log. Start your own threads! Tag around!

[The Meadows, being a place largely created from magic, has a subtle strangeness to it. From the outside, it could be taken for any old Appalachian farm: scattered barns and stables, a lakeside castle, a roomy wooden farmhouse, a 19th century stone chapel that some hoodlum graffitied. There's evidence that the farm is occupied by unsupervised teenagers, too, in the donut tracks that mar the grass and the remains of regular bonfires. As long as the monsters are out of sight, everything seems ordinary.

Once inside the farmhouse, however, the odd discrepancies become more apparent. The layout of the rooms doesn't quite match how the house appeared from the outside. There are windows where windows shouldn't be, stairways like vertical mazes to secluded rooms, and views from rooms that look into other worlds entirely. Half of the appliances work without any source of electricity, fresh coffee's always waiting in the pot without anyone having to brew it, and the refrigerator never seems to run out of leftover pizza. Things are simply wrong about the place, for all the cozy warmth of its design.]

Comments

Matthew and Gansey

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew got a late start this morning after the previous night's events. He ditched the terror of Ronan's near death when he threw out his nothingness-stained shirt, and he washed away the grief when he hosed the remaining black gunk from his hands, holding on only to the intense relief of Ronan's recovery and the meaningfulness of Matthew's own part in it.

He won't forget what happened as long as he exists in this universe, but he won't dwell on the worst parts of it either.

The next afternoon, he's on the living room floor and playing with his dog like nothing happened when he hears a familiar pair of footsteps and leaps up to his own feet. ]

Gansey!

[ Max barks, echoing Matthew's excited tone. ]

Matthew and Quatre

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew waits for Quatre at the end of the driveway, just in case. Even when one has an address, the Meadows can be a tricky place to find, tucked away like a secret world in the Virginia hills.

So he helpfully parks himself in a visible spot, barefoot and wearing a bright yellow t-shirt. An excitable grey pit bull romps around in the grass behind him, never still for a moment, while Matthew plays a game on his phone to pass the time. He looks up eagerly at the sound of any person or vehicle approaching. ]

[fource]

[It does take Quatre a bit of time to find his way there, but he enjoys the wandering. Shortly after the bus passes through, Quatre comes walking up the road, a black and white border collie trotting along in tow. He's dressed in the same sort of oddly formal clothes he wore last time-- a button-down long sleeve shirt tucked into trousers, despite the weather and his constant proximity to exercising dogs-- but it doesn't seem to bother him. He waves when he sees Matthew, Poptart already wagging her tail at the sight of the other dog, though she waits for Quatre to give her a little hand motion to run up to greet him.]

It's beautiful out here, isn't it?

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew returns the wave with a huge windmilling motion of his arm, bright and enthusiastic as ever. ]

Yeah, it is, [ he agrees, pleased as punch that Quatre thinks so, a touch of warm pride in his voice. Both here and in his own universe, these same hills are his home, and his love for the place runs just about as deep as Matthew goes. ] It's my favorite place in the world. C'mon, I'll show you around!

[ He starts to lead the way up the long driveway, trusting Quatre and the dogs will follow along. Max, meanwhile, is just about as pleased as Matthew to have the company, investigating Poptart with delighted interest, though he won't let Matthew get too far away before chasing after him. ]

[fource]

[Matthew's cheer is so contagious. Quatre was already feeling very content about this visit; now he breaks out in a grin and hurries after Matthew up the driveway. Poptart alternates her time between sniffing excitedly at Max and trying to herd the two boys and Max along the path like it's up to her to lead the pack.

Quatre's always appreciated nature when he gets the chance to see it, and he's never had an opportunity to see a farmhouse like this before, so he takes his time to really admire the view, even gasping in quiet delight once the scope of the property becomes visible.] This is really amazing! I can't believe you get to live out here! How did you even find it?

[dreamkid]

[ Poptart has a much greater sense of responsibility than Max, who is more like Matthew in his enthusiasm and easily compromised attention span. He's a good animal, but a bit wild, definitely not a dog who has learned to follow as many rules as the ones Quatre trains.

Matthew lets out another joyful laugh in response to his friend's reaction and spins around to face him, utterly delighted to be able to share his home like this. He continues to walk like that, trusting his bare feet to carry him backward without tripping over any dogs or stepping on anything painful. ]

The first time I got ported in, everybody I knew already lived here. That was a long time ago, so some things were different. But it's always been--

[ He spreads his arms wide, letting the gesture speak for him about the span, the nature, the safety and the magic of the place. Actual for-real magic, by the way. ]

Like this. My older brother, Ronan. He's made almost everything here.

[ Matthew is so proud of him, an emotion that rolls off of him in waves. ]

[fource]

He made it? [Quatre repeats in surprise. He can tell that Matthew is telling the truth, but it's still amazing to wrap his head around-- he assumes Matthew's referring to just the house itself, which alone would be incredible for an imPort to accomplish in however long they've had here. He looks around with new appreciation, not just a beautiful place but someone's personal project.] How many people do you know from home here?

For Annabeth and Blue

[disentombs]

They've gotten in the habit of being available to each other at night when their thoughts became too much to bear by themselves. Sometimes it was at Fauxhalla and sometimes it was at the Meadows. Tonight they were at the Meadows, specifically Gansey's room.

He's leaning back against his bed on the floor in his pajamas and glasses, small rendition of one of the barns on the Meadows grounds made out of cardboard in one hand, paintbrush in the other. Leaning against him is Annabeth, book in her hands. Gansey has been having more nightmares recently of inky black nothing swallowing up everything he ever cared about, and so Annabeth of course had been his first contact. Gansey feels a sense of peace with Annabeth, knowing she was a kindred soul, knowing she knew but was polite enough not to always ask about why he contacted her this time. He shows her the same courtesy.

[athnvas]

It was normal, at this point. Simply a part of both of their routines. Percy knows about it, understands it, and lets her go - snorting in his sleep if he's sleeping, or heading out on his own thing- to the sea, to the pool, just on a walk. And Annabeth heads to the Meadows. Or- when it's at Fauxhalla, they all huddle together. They make it work, and when Gansey receives a text he knows what it means, and when Annabeth gets one, it's only a few minutes before she's stepping through the door and settling into the spot next to him.

Tonight it's been a quieter one, with Gansey asking errant questions about random things as his hands worked on his models, and Annabeth - eyes still on her book - offering her own opinions in the midst of it. For one reason or another, something he says has her eyes glancing over her shoulder while her head lulls back a bit on his shoulder, and-

"You know that's horribly out of scale, right?"

[disentombs]

"Entirely not the point of this exercise I will point out," he says facetiously, trying to look down at her on his shoulder.

"I would love to see the miniature city you would make," he gently teases and challenges. "However you won't find me making calculations or anything of the like with this. Just so you're not disappointed next time you see me working on it."

[athnvas]

"That's the point of making a miniature city. You make it to scale." Equally teasing, but her tone makes it obvious she's not joking. And after a moment, she sighs, setting down her book and turning so that instead of leaning up against him she's instead sitting directly next to him, her hip and thigh pressed against his.

She looks over the buildings he's been working on closely, before shaking her head. "I already knew you didn't make calculations. I knew that the first time I saw you working on this." She picks up the closest, finished, building and turns it over in her hand. "But if you did just a few of them when you were starting, it would look better."

Annabeth grins a bit at him at this, very much teasing this time.

[disentombs]

"A terrible thing I didn't have you around when I started working on these," he replies with the slightest of shoulder bumps.

He's quiet a few moments, continuing to work on his miniature building's paintjob.

"I had a model set at home as well. It had our local downtown area that I was working on."

[athnvas]

"Yes, absolutely terrible." She laughs a bit at his shoulder bump, pushing back a bit against him herself in response. In those next few moments, the quiet is pretty comfortable, as she's looking over his construction of the building in her hands before she leans over him to set it back down.

"You lived in Virginia, right? How long have you been working on that one?"

Her book is forgotten for now - she'll pick it up later if she feels like it, but the conversation feels easy for now.

[nightmarist]

(( Continued from here. ))

[Ronan gets out of Murphy's way, which is the most assistance he offers in this process. He leans lazily against the far counter, content to leave all the effort to his twin.]

They're...

[He realizes he doesn't quite know how to answer that.]

I don't know. Things have been strange. I went home for a year, which fucked things up. Fucked me up, specifically, which always has kind of a ripple effect.

[rekt]

Nothing like home to fuck up your head.

[ he knows how that goes. ronan already had a pretty screwed up life there, from what they'd exchanged before. heropa's world at least made it easier in terms of having no immediately pressing emergencies or need to face realities. they're spoiled here, but honestly, Murphy's glad for it. He chatters while he works, setting up all his cooking business. ]

And the ducklings act like you have to be cared for and protected and wrapped in blankets at all times. Not surprised.

[ the Ronan Lynch Protection Squad needs to fucking chill already. they are high key anxious about every detail, and even while murphy does find some of ronan's bullshit alarming, you can't help the kind of person he is. throwing a fit about everything is just going to be worse on him.

at least, that is dr. murphy's diagnosis. ]

[nightmarist]

To be fair to them, I did start rapidly decomposing a couple weeks ago. Which makes that the second time most of them have witnessed me rapidly decomposing, and it's really fucking gross and creepy, so yeah. The panic is almost reasonable if we're working under the assumption that I deserve to be alive at all.

[Maybe he's just supposed to die? But good luck getting any of them to accept that possibility.]

[rekt]

Pretty sure that's the assumption they work under 24/7, as most people like them do. [ you know, boy scouts and their All Life Deserves A Chance etc etc you can't kill people, murphy, that's mean, it's only okay when clarke and bellamy do it. anyway, getting some spices and shit set out, or whatever cooking looks like. ]

But you're clearly not dead now, so. Time they got over it. Wake up and smell the fleeting mortality.

[nightmarist]

[Murphy's bitterness is refreshing. Save Adam, this is a household of boy scouts.]

You're talking about a bunch of idiots who used ritual human sacrifice to keep me alive. They're not about to get over anything anytime soon. If they had their way, I'd live forever. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they're working on that.

[rekt]

You have the weirdest groupies.

[ something Murphy has difficulty understanding - as much as Murphy adores him, for his own variously grey reasons, he doesn't get the fan boys. He isn't the typical person you'd find at the center of a group like this. He's dark and violent and grim, a drunk with a closet full of skeletons. Not Clarke and her determination and righteousness. Not bellamy and his charisma and command.

Maybe that's part of the charm. Who knows. It's a mystery to us all. ]

Want me to put on a mask and threaten one of the others? Give them someone else to freak out over for a while?

Adam's departure

[nightmarist]

The sudden absence of Adam is tangible in the air. It's like the moment just after the power goes out, when the ambient hum of electricity clips out and leaves only heavy silence and darkness. Ronan's heart stops with it. For a second, he's sure that all of him will stop, that he'll drop to the ground like all dream things do when the energy that sustains them is abruptly gone.

He's in the main house when it happens, which is good, because it means someone might hear him when he barks out, "Did anyone else fucking feel that?" Not that there's any reason to believe they would. Adam is only Ronan's, and only Ronan feels weak without him, sinking to his knees because it's difficult to stand - or breathe, or think - without Adam in the world.

[disentombs]

Gansey moreso feels Ronan’s distress than hears him call out. He comes down the stairs, brisker than his usual saunter, to see Ronan on the floor on his knees. Coming over to kneel next to him, Gansey’s quick scan of Ronan at least reveals no physical changes—no void spillage or nightmare injuries—so that’s a temporary relief.

“What happened?” What could have Ronan this distressed?

[nightmarist]

"Adam," Ronan answers, quiet now. He doesn't look at Gansey. Or anything, really. He looks past the room entirely, as if he's trying to look through it, and he says, "Wait."

Then Ronan himself is gone entirely, dissipating just like Cabeswater without a ley line. He's hardly gone for a full second, less than the time it takes for Gansey to blink twice. When he reappears, it's like he never left. Just an image flickering out and back in.

"I can't find Adam."

[disentombs]

Gansey blinks a few times to be sure he isn't seeing things but Ronan is right there. Likely Adam wouldn't be home yet and so he can't feel for Adam's emotional signature at this point anyway, but he can feel the bottom drop out of his stomach.

Gansey takes out his device and flips through, attempting to send a text to Adam but he simply freezes when he can't.

[nightmarist]

This is a punishment, Ronan thinks. This is divine punishment. This is God ripping the heart out of his chest and leaving him to suffer without it. For months, for years, forever maybe.

"He's safe at home," Ronan assures Gansey, catching the stricken look on his face, though it's really for his own benefit. "It's fine. He'll be fine. He's just going to college." There's nothing left to hurt Adam there. There's just the rest of his life, which will be better than it's ever been.

Ronan reaches out to the table beside him, as if he's going to brace himself against it to stand up. But his hand changes its mind halfway through the action, sweeping the table up by its leg and sending it careening across the room with a violent crash.

[disentombs]

Gansey weakly reaches out to bring Ronan's hand down. They both know that won't help with anything, but Gansey also understands Ronan's distress. He won't protest Ronan's coping mechanisms too much for the moment.

"He is. We know that," also assuring both himself and Ronan. They both are from far ahead of when Adam was from so they know.

The grief and guilt from Ronan overwhelms him.

"This is not your fault, Lynch."