and oh, my god, i'll take you to the grave.

[nightmarist]

WHO: Residents of the Meadows & OPEN to visitors
WHERE: The Meadows outside De Chima
WHEN: Throughout July
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

@ ronan | plot times!

[pillz]

[the meadows are overrun by children again, like perhaps their terrestrial equivalent, the barns, once used to be in ronan's real world. in ronan's real world, there had been three boys, two of them made up half or more of dream stuff.

these ones are different, even if the setting looks a lot like the barns were— dreamlike, sunny, pretty, idyllic.

at least, right up until a small child— ten-years-old at best, spiky hair, the baby fat not yet gone from his cheeks-- whips around the corner, a monstrous-looking nerf gun in his hands. he squares it on the older boy, the middle of his chest. and pulls the trigger. fwup fwup fwup, the projectiles bounce violently off ronan's person.]

GET SOME MOTHERFUCKERS, [kavinsky screeches.] AND GIVE MURPHY HIS FACE BACK.

[unorphaned]

[Ronan laughs in disbelief as he's suddenly ambushed. He knows by now there are so many people running around the Meadows, and he recognizes almost none of them even though almost all of them recognize him. Noah was the one who didn't, and now this other tiny kid, who recognizes him only as someone else.]

It's not Murphy's face, it's my face!

[He dips down to pick up one of the projectiles that just hit him and throws it back toward the kid. It doesn't fly very far when it isn't being shot from a gun.]

screams what are these icons pana

[pillz]

That's a fucking lie, [hisses ronan's miniature nemesis, scooting backward to find the nearest bookcase behind which he might hide himself from (ineffectively) hand-thrown nerf projectiles. in a moment, he has stuffed himself behind a corner, but the edge of him is poking out-- half a diminutive elbow, the edge of his clothes, the brightly-colored corner of his nerf gun.

the next moment, half his face peeks out again. one heavy-lidded eye.]

I don't see your name on it. Did you stamp it on your butt instead?

babbus

[unorphaned]

Did Murphy stamp his name on it?

[Ronan picks up another one of the fallen projectiles and tosses that one, too. He isn't putting much effort into it, on account of all his laughing.]

[pillz]

Nah. I'm pretty sure Murphy stamped my name on it.

[the small vinsky watches where the projectile falls, his eyes narrowing. it's some confusion of knowing it's only a game, and taking every game a little too seriously, that fuels up his brain with hormones that promise to someday turn into borderline sociopathy.

in a moment, he's charging around. nerf gun swinging. not yet having been appraised of his miniature size, he's hell set on knocking ronan down bodily and sticking the muzzle of the nerf gun up under the chin of ronan's stolen face. a hostage he'll have.]

[unorphaned]

On his butt?

[Being significantly taller, it's very difficult for Ronan to take this game as seriously as Kavinsky. The force of that charge only manages to make him stumble a few steps, giggling all the way. He does, however, put his hands up in surrender and allow himself to be taken hostage by Murphy's defender.]

[pillz]

Yeah! Left cheek, motherfucker.

[like the fairies of j.m. barrie fame, kavinsky is rather little right now, and so little perhaps that he can only fit in one emotion at a time. his bloodthirsty, territorial jealousy evaporates the minute he seems to have won. he sits on ronan and pokes the nerf gun under his chin, only a bit threateningly.

the next moment, he's tapping the older boy's huge noise.]

Was it smaller when you was smaller?

[there's just the slightest dirty kink to his eyebrow.]

Post first date for Mags and Ronan!

[disentombs]

[Gansey is spending a lovely evening sitting in the main reading room brushing up on the moirai considering all of the things floating around the Network of late. He's wearing his typical eveningwear of flannel pants, white tshirt and glasses.]

[nightmarist]

[The roar of the BMW's engine announces Ronan's arrival, but when he walks through the door, he's not alone, with one arm slung around Magnus's shoulders. The both of them are heading toward the stairway that leads to Ronan's room, but he comes to an abrupt halt when he spots Gansey there.]

Oh - hey.

[fehus]

[Magnus stops when Ronan does, and the easy slope of his shoulders (the shy press of his hand to the small of Ronan's back) goes instantly a bit stiff, as much at the sudden Other Person in the area as anything else (Magnus may have kind of forgotten other people exist, tonight). a stupid, illogical rush of embarrassment fills him, as if Gansey might be able to see he'd just been considering laying a kiss on Ronan's dumb, unsuspecting face once they got up to his room]

[night-time Gansey, however, is a familiar sight for any Chase, and in a moment his shoulders soften again]

Hey, Ricardo. [a small, easy smile]

[disentombs]

[The familiar sound of Ronan's BMW doesn't catch his attention. However, Gansey looks up as the two of them walk in...much more overtly intimate than they usually are. What he can feel radiating off of either of then isn't necessarily different, simply more amplified. Magnus' comfort with not only the way Ronan is touching him but with how he's holding on to Ronan wouldn't be something odd if Gansey didn't already know of Magnus' discomfort with touch in general.

He gives Magnus a wry smile at his nickname.]

What have you two been up to?

[Asked innocently enough of course.]

[nightmarist]

[Magnus isn't exactly a secret Ronan's trying to keep, but he'd hoped he would get an opportunity to tell the others about the situation without Magnus in the room. It's complicated. He doesn't want Magnus to think that complication is in any way his fault. But now that they're caught, Ronan doesn't pull his arm off Magnus's shoulders.]

Breakfast-for-dinner date at IHOP. I'm nothing if not romantic.

[fehus]

[Magnus realises, abruptly, that he has no idea if Gansey thought he was -- that is, if there's ever been a time he and Gansey have talked about his being less-than-entirely-straight-label-to-be-determined. they certainly haven't talked about how his feelings about Ronan have grown to be more than just platonic, or if Gansey would ever particularly okay with Magnus dating his ex. Magnus realises that he and Ronan haven't remotely talked about any of the out-ness of being a couple, much less his complicated dating history, but Magnus thinks that's not entirely his fault, as it's been less than 36 hours since their first kiss. his face doesn't quite freeze, but his mouth thins and stretches and his eyes flare a bit wide and his eyebrows go up]

[ok. ok. apparently, as in all things, he's hitting the ground running]

There were crayons on the table and individual syrup pourers and everything. I'm a real lucky guy.

[is this joking? are they all joking? what the fuck?]

[disentombs]

[He looks between the two slightly confused.]

Is today a special occasion?

[nightmarist]

[Ronan glances at Magnus. If he didn't look so nervous, Ronan would ask if he'd like to do the honors. But he can already tell that Magnus does not. So he turns back to Gansey with all the confidence Magnus lacks.]

First date counts as a special occasion, right?

[fehus]

[it very much does count as a special occasion to Magnus, who immediately flushes, and can't help the slightly more genuine twitch of his lips in a small smile. his fingers curl at Ronan's back, leaning on that confidence as he thinks, nope, there probably wasn't any room to interpret that as their usual campy banter. he would love to add something about a promotional IHOP event being an even more special occasion, but for once the sass doesn't manage to make it past the nervous lump in his throat]

[he likes Gansey. he really likes Ronan. (he likes pancakes, too, but -- that was so much simpler than the world of teen dating)]

[disentombs]

[Again, confusion as he dogears his book and places it aside.]

Your first?

[That's worse than Gansey was with Blue, Ronan.]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan isn't sure what would be confusing about that.]

As far as I'm aware?

[fehus]

[this confusion is very tranquil and relaxing and not the worst at all. Magnus' hand grabs tighter]

Unless he's been watching me in my sleep, true to his vampire aesthetic...?

[disentombs]

You're only just now going on your first date?

[nightmarist]

[Ronan stares at Gansey for another two seconds. Then he tosses his head back and laughs.]

[fehus]

[next to him, a noise comes out of Magnus' throat like a cat getting its tail caught in a closing door. he wheezes, sagging forward with an elbow on his own knee so he doesn't just. faceplant]

Rickyyyy...

[disentombs]

[The scene before him would be highly amusing...if Gansey understood what was going on.]

I feel like I missed something. Also, you were pushing it with "Ricardo", [he lightly adds as an aside.]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan gently gathers Magnus up in his supportive arms.]

It sounds like I missed something. Yes, we just went on our first date. The very first, the official event. You thought we were together already? Seriously?

[fehus]

[it feels a little embarrassing, for Ronan to scoop him into his arms like that, but also -- good. warm. he presses an incredulous smile to his shoulder for a moment before looking back at Gansey]

I feel called out. [but he feels -- and looks -- sort of endeared about it. this isn't a bad way, for this to have gone, at all] Dude, no. We just sealed the boyfriend deal with chocolate chip pancakes.

[disentombs]

For months, [he replies earnestly.]

You certainly appeared to be dating.

If you're not playing a joke on me, [a knowing look in Ronan's direction,]

Then congratulations on finally realizing what I knew months ago. [and he smiles for the first time through all of this confusion.]

[nightmarist]

Months? For fuck's sake, Gansey. Adam would have murdered him.

[And might, should he ever return. Sorry, Magnus.]

[fehus]

[that gets a half-sharp look from Magnus. he doesn't particularly want to dredge up Adam tonight of all nights, nor does he want to sound like he'd fight over Ronan with Adam like a dog with scraps. Ronan was a person, not a prize]

Or, I wouldn't have gone out with him in the first place. [he reiterates, firmly] No "murder" necessary. [the tone is dry. anyway. more cheerfully;] But thanks for the vote of confidence, Gansey.

[disentombs]

[And even so, even despite Adam's hatred of Magnus, Gansey had honestly thought Magnus and Ronan were together for...at least a couple of months.[

I'm simply observing the fact that you two were acting as though you were dating for quite some time, [he insists, but there's absolutely a teasing note in there.]

[nightmarist]

[Catching that look, Ronan quips cheerfully:]

Too soon?

[He gives Magnus a squeeze that's meant to be reassuring, but probably isn't.]

Your radar is hypersensitive, Gansey.

[fehus]

[the quip is ignored (the squeeze less so, keeping his cheeks annoyingly warm despite the context). Gansey's insistence is snorted at]

I dunno. [dutifully:] I learned tonight that dating is basically just doing whatever the hel you want with somebody you -- uh, [he feels absolutely embarrassed again, thinks its unfair that he can, on the one hand, experience death and the weight of the apocalypse, and on the other still feel embarrassed in talking about the boy he likes] -- you know, somebody you like. And that makes you happy? So, by that definition, he's not wrong.

[but it does feel different. enormously different, all nerves-prickly and romance-sappy in rapid turns. a higher heat and focus on what was previously a low, repressed simmer] Um. While also being way wrong. [he refuses to talk (more) about the warm fuzzies in his gut, for the moment. he turns a steadier eye on Gansey] -- I would not have shared my pancake stack with someone I wasn't going steady with. For example.

[disentombs]

Ah, I see. You've taken quite the step today, Magnus, [now this is overtly teasing.

Turning back to Ronan,]

Considering many people had a feeling this would happen, I would say that would nullify your insistence that I'm hypersensitive.

[nightmarist]

Magnus had no idea.

[And, frankly, Ronan had no idea how Magnus would react once he knew. Everyone else in the world might have seen this coming, but both of them were frustratingly, mutually blind.]

I'll concede it's long overdue. We should have been sharing pancake stacks fucking ages ago.

[fehus]

[it's possibly the stupidest reason yet, to feel like he wants to kiss Ronan Lynch, but this is apparently his afterlife now. we should have been sharing pancake stacks fucking ages ago isn't exactly poetry, but he's not exactly a poetry kind of guy]

[So dumb and offhand as it is, Magnus can't help but smile, crooked and happy, over it. Gansey's teasing only contributes to the rising, full feeling in his chest -- and it's times like these when Magnus thinks maybe he can get the hang of dating, truly]

[he's not quite bold enough yet to follow through on the impulse to tug Ronan's face down to kiss in front of their friend/best friend, so he shyly wraps his arm over one of those Ronan's been using to squeeze him. He squeezes it back with that dumb, besotted smile on his face, holds tight]

Yeah, we should have. [a bit more slyly than shyly;] We'd be "quite" a few more steps forward. Like... sharing hashbrowns and bacon.

[disentombs]

[Gansey claps his hands over his ears dramatically.]

My innocent ears! You can't talk about sharing hashbrowns and bacon with other people around!

[nightmarist]

Nerds.

[Ronan says it with a sappy little smile, brought on mostly by Magnus's closeness. He, too, fights the urge to kiss Magnus here and now, with respect for Gansey as his ex. There's still a conversation to be had, one that was delayed by Ronan's grief over Adam's departure. He's still uncertain about where he stands with everyone, except Magnus, who makes it very easy to be certain.]

[fehus]

[Magnus bursts out laughing, delighted by both Gansey's stupid sense of humour and Ronan's warm disgust. the hand not pressed to Ronan's skin holds up a palm, conciliatory]

Hey, now. It's not like I'm talking cantaloupe and honeydew. Let's all calm down.

[he shoots a glance back at Ronan over his shoulder, lips curled in a pleased smirk]