gooseberryhigh | A WALK IN THE WOODS

Entry tags:

A WALK IN THE WOODS

A WALK IN THE WOODS

Rosemary Stoker is going on a hike to clear their head when they get turned around, and realize they accidentally followed a game trail that has led them too far into the woods. They're lost. The woods are something to be feared now, but panic has only just set in when Rosy smells pine needles. Brother's there, as though he always was, stepping out of the silhouettes of the trees. He holds out a hand, and Rosy can't help but take it.

He doesn’t hold your hand for long, but you don’t mind. His touch was cold but clean, like fresh snow. You should have shivered, but a deep calm filled you when he took your hand, so unfamiliar to your heart that you knew on some level that it wasn’t you who was calm. But the feeling remains even as you walk side-by-side on the trail. He’s so tall that his antlers blend in with the darkening sky whenever you look up at him.

I can bring you there now, he says, or you can ask your questions. Somehow, you sense that he wants to talk with someone. He doesn’t look at you as he walks, but he’s careful to match your pace, not wanting to leave you behind.

So you talk.

“How did you lose your heart before?”

When the moon is dark, I must sleep. His voice is like branches creaking in an early autumn breeze. He gestures upwards with one graceful arm, to the bright sliver of the waning crescent moon. He pauses, as though trying to decide if he should tell you this. When I sleep, I am defenseless. I was found, and they took my heart from me. They did not know what I was, or what they stole. If they did, I imagine things would be worse. Your kind cannot be trusted with power.

“Can we help keep that from happening again?”

I created my brother to watch when I cannot. He sleeps when the moon is brightest, and is strong enough to protect me when the moon is dark. There’s a cold laugh, wind rattling through a leaf-stripped tree. He would rather talk to you children. Talking to children was how he let my heart be stolen in the first place.

He’s quiet for a moment. Anger radiates from him, disturbing the strange peace in your chest, then slowly, carefully smooths out, so you feel his calm again. He is very, very old. He is better than you at controlling his emotions.

I have better hiding places. Not even your men in black robes can find me. And my brother… he knows what is at stake. He will not allow it to happen again. Brother turns to look at you. His eyes burn like stars, too beautiful to look at for too long. You are not one to forgive easily. Neither am I. But he will not fail you again. He fears what might happen to you if I am not here to protect the forest. You are his friends.

“Why were the ghosts (and the younger Mooseman) so angry that night?”

Brother stays silent for so long that you begin to wonder if this conversation is over. But you’re still in the woods, and he’s walking with you. He was angry with me. I do not care for your kind. I protect the forest and all that is born here, and all you know is to kill and to destroy. You may be young now, but when you grow old and strong, you will do the same. I have warned my brother. STAY AWAY.

Despite the unexpected force of his words, he still emanates calm. He waves his hand, and the thick pine trees ahead part, allowing you a way through. Brother follows behind you, and leads you to another trail.

He said I was cruel to not stop you from that fate. Without my heart, I was weak, and his anger was too strong. It touched the other children in the forest. It gave them power, power I cannot take back without hurting them. They felt his anger, like you feel me now. It was too much. My brother is sorry. He did not know they would seek to hurt you.

That night, I could not stop them, but I used what remained of my strength to hold them back from worse. The children were grateful to have not killed anyone. The only one they are angry with now is my brother.

He shakes his head, an oddly human gesture for such an inhuman being.

He was wrong. But so was I. If I had been kinder, I would have learned sooner from the children where my heart was. But understand, I cannot change my nature easily. So I allow my brother to speak to you children instead. You are wiser than you know. You will be brave if you are called to be brave. And I will protect you all, for you are loved by this forest.

Brother stops walking.

Goodnight, Rosemary.

You look up from the trail, and find yourself standing at the entrance of a campsite, before a tall wooden arch upon is carved “RIBBONFIN.” Serenity drains away from you, leaving you cold again. He’s gone.

» IC Reactions: For any reactions or scenes related to this event.

» OOC - Questions, comments, concerns!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rosy had been stressed lately. Barely six weeks into the school year and she was too far in sleep debt to see a way out, she was stretched too thin between school and responsibility, trying to keep a lid on every minor disaster that cropped up in her life. She had just needed to get out tonight, get away from the talk of the LGK copycat (and it was a copycat) and rewriting her Potions notes. Getting lost hadn’t exactly been part of the plan, but…

Standing at the entrance to the Ribbonfin camp, Rosy isn’t sure where to go right away. She feels cold, and confused, and yet that strange feeling of serenity isn’t completely gone. Brother is, though. So that feeling must be hers; a pool of calm in the core of her heart that is hers and hers alone.

It’s dark, too late to go to Coppertale now, but she wants to say something, tell someone what happened before the memory of the conversation fades and she starts to doubt her own mind. It takes very little time for her to find herself in front of the senior boys’ cabin, rapping her knuckles on the door.

It’s not late enough to try to sleep yet. Ferdie’s found himself in a juggling act this year. Answering to the whole school
Instead of just his house is new. It’s not stressful so much already as it is tiring. His homework has been relegated to low-priority, to be completed during school hours and in the dead of night while the journals aren’t exploding quite yet.

He’s not particularly surprised to hear a knock, and moves to be the one to answer. There were more surprising people than Rosy who could be there. Still, his first instinct is to ask what had happened this time. He suppresses that as he can. Nothing has to be a crisis. “Hi.” He greets, easily enough. “What’s up?”

Rosy looks distracted, or confused, with her brow furrowed and her eyes wandering as she stands in front of Ferdie. "I... kind of made a new friend?" she ventures, vaguely, unsure how to word it. She hasn't had enough time to process the interaction yet, hasn't decided who needs to know what information, and without knowing who's in the cabin with Ferdie, she doesn't want to spill the beans up front.

"You want to hear about it?" she makes a cursory glance over his shoulder to see if there's anyone inside, hoping the implied "in private" at the end comes through. "There are some freshmen over by the fire pit that look like they need chasing off."

Her demeanor and a new friend has Ferdie reaching for a sweater before Rosy can properly ask to talk. This kind of dark night always makes him think of ghosts and spirits, anyway. “We should check that out.”

He says simply, shrugging on a sweatshirt and closing the door firmly behind him before stepping out into the night.

Edited (It’s too many ands, Pearl) 2017-10-18 19:29 (UTC)

The freshmen were gone before they got to the fire pit, if they had even been there in the first place, but there was still a fire crackling away. Rosy can still feel the chill of Brother's hand on hers, and she moves close to the fire.

"I guess it was really more of an old friend," she says, and she bites her lip before looking up at Ferdie. "It was Brother, I just had a... chat. With Brother. In the woods. Alone. You know, the thing we keep trying to tell people not to do."

Edited (this was a mess, I'm a mess) 2017-10-18 20:16 (UTC)

Ferdie trusts Brother. He thinks he has to trust Brother. They're both guardians. One for a lot longer than the other, of course, and over more, but Ferdie thinks he kind of gets where Brother's coming from, most of the time.

Still, his name makes his throat a little dry out of something that couldn't quite be fear.

"What...what did he have to say?"

Rosy's quiet for a second, sifting through Brother's words for the kernels of information. What did he have to say? What would be useful to know? Everything? Nothing?

She starts with something they'd talked about not that long ago. "I asked him how he lost his heart," she says, in a voice too low to attract the attention of their fellow fish. "Anon is supposed to protect him when he sleeps, but he was distracted." Rosy looks up at Ferdie, to see if he needs more details, or if he can figure out that the thing he was distracted by was his favorite activity: talking to kids. "So it was stolen." She looks back down. "But apparently he's better at hiding now, which is, you know... good? I guess?"

While Rosy's talking, Ferdie looks her over. She doesn't look hurt. She would've mentioned if she was nearly kidnapped. He doesn't think so. That doesn't help much.

He shifts closer, to catch every detail. It all fits. "My brother's awake now." He quotes softly. He's not that reassured by this answer. "So we really should stop talking to Anon so he can do his job, basically?" He shakes his head, remembering that he has a job here too. "Where did you see him, anyway? Are you okay?"

Edited (I'M SO TIRED AND I'M DESTROYING EVERYTHING I TOUCH) 2017-10-19 03:11 (UTC)

But he will not fail you again. He fears what might happen to you if I am not here to protect the forest. The words had been comforting at the time, but looking back, Rosy wonders vaguely if that was only because of Brother's emotional influence. Anon wanted to do better, but did that mean he actually could?

"He said he wouldn't let it happen again, but," she tilts her head to the side, considering for a beat, "it probably doesn't hurt to minimize the distractions. We know the posts are a cesspool anyways." Last year, she'd been attracted to them, drawn to the fighting like it was in her blood. Things had obviously changed.

"I was just... in the woods." The momentary urge to lie and say she was on the main trail, not lost in the woods, not on the verge of panic, passes. This didn't seem like the time to lie, or the person to lie to. "I took a wrong turn, and he brought me back here. I think..." he just wanted to talk? That sounded bizarre and unlikely. Rosy sighs, mildly frustrated with her inability to pin down her own thoughts and feelings on the subject. She shakes her head. "I don't know what I think, but I'm okay."

Edited (GO AWAY IRA YOU DON'T EVEN GO HERE) 2017-10-19 03:47 (UTC)

"Cesspools that are actually harmful, now we know." He knows there's more important things to consider here. "And I hope he's right. I think..."

He glances up at Rosy, trying to measure for the millionth time whether what he's thinking sounds crazy, and how much. But they're in the middle of the woods talking about a moose's older brother. That's crazy enough as it is. "I mean, I just trust Brother a lot more than I trust Anonymous. You know?"

He thought maybe now she would know, after he guided her home too.

Trust was a hard one for Rosemary, a concept she never fully subscribed to. It was hard to say she trusted someone who could casually exert so much power over her and make her feel their feelings, to believe he would never use that power for his own selfish needs. But so far, he had helped them save their friends, he had kept the Grotto safe, he had led her right to her camp when she knew he could have dumped her in the middle of the woods and she never would have found her way out.

Anonymous, on the other hand, was kind of in the red.

Rosy nods. Relatively, yes, she trusts Brother more than she trusts Anonymous. "Yeah. That makes sense. I just hope we never piss him off. He's... strong." She lets out a heavy breath and shakes her head. "I don't know, there was more to the conversation, but it's hard to say what even, like, matters, or—do you think the other prefects should know?" The idea of telling the staff or the MACUSA agents does not actually occur to Rosy.