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sanctimoniousscrawlings · 5 years

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Prompt #1 : Lull of the Forest

Greenvale is quaint. At least that’s what the townsfolk say. Personally, I’ve never been fond of life here. Half the people here are ignorant and bigoted. They’re nosy and self-serving. Nine times out of ten I’ve found that the thick veneer of kindness and good ol’ fashioned neighborliness is born of duplicity, and to be quite honest it’s exhausting.

I’ve been saving money to leave since I turned sixteen and got my first job in the town’s only book store- a tiny thing, barely larger than my room back in my apartment. I’ve been thinking of moving to a big city- it may be too crowded for my taste but I’ve found that it has the opposite vibe to small towns. People start out assholish and then turn out to be kind. It’s a pleasant surprise.

Here I am ten years later with only half the cash I would need to get my own place somewhere I’d actually like to be. I’m scrolling through real estate sites and beginning to reconsider the whole roommate thing, much as I revile the thought of having to live with random strangers when my phone pings. It’s my best friend, Demeter.

D: omg Riley did you hear Me: oyg did I hear what? Me: and are you sure I can’t convince you to come with me D: Dylan is gone and certainly not, you know I can’t stand urban environments Me: pls tell me he absconded from the woods with his tail between his legs and the only thing he left behind was a trail of urine Me: I really don’t want him living next door to me again D: ... D: i heard the fairy house is a pretty grizzly scene Me: wow Me: guess i won’t have to live next door to him after all. neat. D: i know he was an asshole but do you need to be so blase about it? Me: only as much as he needed to chase me with a MIG torch Me: look, i know you aren’t supposed to speak ill of the dead (but honestly he shouldn’t have been such a dick) and I wouldn’t wish death on anyone- but I definitely don’t have to care that he’s gone Me: besides, he probably pissed off whatever’s in those woods. haven’t you noticed that when the people who live in that house are super cool, the hidden folk just play (mostly) harmless pranks- and they have never ever attacked children D: no, they just kill the parents and steal the kids Me: the bad parents. We both know the Bonners were abusing their kids. And pretty heavily. How many times did you call cps on them? D: ...monthly. But that doesn’t make it right. Those kids are probably scarred for life- and scared. Me: maybe. I think I might try buying the place tbh- I don’t even have half the money for a place in any of the cities I wanted to move to but I have more than enough for that place. It’ll be a dent in my funds, but I think it will be worth it. D: what Me: hear me out: I’m a misanthropist. They are clearly also not fond of people. Maybe we’ll get along. Plus, I can keep the deed to this place to protect the forest from the idiots in town moving in. D: First of all that’s a stupid idea. Second of all, you’re too kind to be a misanthropist. You’re just a curmudgeon. A philanthropic curmudgeon. Me: what Me: that doesn’t even make sense D: you’re grumpy af but I’ve never seen you do anything to cause even the people you hate the most harm. Hell, how often did you help Dylan with his homework or share your food with the delinquents who couldn’t afford lunch when we were in school. D: the whole “I hate humankind blah blah blah destroy all humans” thing is just a front because you always had this complex about helping everyone and it kept backfiring. And then after Ashe... Me: sorry, Demi, gotta go. I’ve got paperwork to fill out. D: DON’T YOU DARE MOVE INTO THAT HOUSE I S2G RILEY ANDREW FERGUSON

I know she cares but I really can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got a house to buy.

For the next two weeks, I avoid Demeter. I love her but she’s overbearing sometimes and I’m not gonna let her talk me out of this. All the paperwork is taken care of and fortunately, my lease was ending at the end of the month so this should prove to be a smooth transition. All my packing is complete and I get to move into my new place in another few days. My shift ended at the bookstore so I head back to the apartment only to find a grey slip of a man waiting for me. “Riley Ferguson, there you are. Your presence is required at the law office of Paz & Squalor. If you have some time to accompany me there, I urge you to.” His voice was strained and gravelly. “It concerns the property in the woods.” “Sure thing. Let’s go.” I wonder if there’s a hitch in the bureaucratic workings and if there is I’m damn well gonna sort it out.

An hour later and I’m in Ms. Paz’s office. She peers across the desk at me with a grave look on her face and I can see that she’s mulling something over. The look of concern in her eyes is disconcerting. She starts abruptly, clearly having decided to get on with whatever I’m here for. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Ferguson.” “Loss?” “Dylan Daniels. You are Riley Andrew Ferguson, correct?” I nod, but the confusion on my face doesn’t assuage her concerns. “He left the house to you in his will. And everything in it.” She opens a dwarer of her desk and pulls out an envelope, clutching it to his chest. “He also left you this.” She extends the envelope across the desk. “Sorry it took so long to get this to you. The police only found his will a few days ago- everyone was unaware he even had one until then. I just need you to sign some things.” She pushes a stack of papers and a nice pen across the desk. I’m too stuned to respond. “Riley.” She pauses and reaches a hand across the desk to squeeze mine. “I know this must be very hard for you. Take all the time you need.” The next few hours are a blur. I find myself at my desk, clutching the sealed envelope. There’s no way this isn’t some sort of prank. He probably has the entire town in on it- they have always distrusted me here. People gossip about what sort of mental issues I may or may have. “He has the autism,” is the most favored line I hear from the elderly ladies at the old rumor mill. I am a hundred percent sure they don’t even know what autism is- and to be honest that gets to me far more than them actually suggesting I’m on the spectrum. There are worse rumors of course. I have schizophrenia and murdered my own family in a hallucination. Or I’m a sociopath and did it in cold blood. Of course, it doesn’t matter that I was asleep in the back room at work at the time- trying to avoid going home. My boss is a little scenile and his word isn’t good enough to assuage the good people of Greenvale. They’d probably accuse me of doing Dylan in, too, if it weren’t for his proximity to the woods. Deep breath. I open the envelope. There’s a letter inside. When I pull it out, another piece of paper drifts down to the floor. It’s stained with graphite- the pencil must have been smeared. I reach down to pick it up and freeze before I can. I recognize my own writing on the small paper. What the actual hell? I pick it up and read it, wracked with anxiety. It’s a poem. It’s a poem I wrote in eighth grade. A flashback takes me back to when I wrote it. My first real crush on a guy. It was a boy I had P.E. with every year of middle school. I had just started dating a girl I rode the bus home with when I realized that I liked this guy and the poem quite bluntly reflected the turbulent emotions I was feeling at the time. I had a firm grasp on metaphors but even now subtly and nuance elude me when I experience emotion- which happens far more often than I would prefer. More importantly, why would he have this? How did he even- I’m hit with another memory. I wrote that the day that little demon stabbed me in the hand with a pencil. I still have the black mark under my skin. Bastard gave me my first tattoo. He must have taken it from my binder when I was in the nurse’s office. Okay. But why would he keep this? It was fuel he could have used to burn me before I came out my senior year. I remember the letter. With some trepidation, I begin to read it.

Riley,

I was really hoping to tell you this in person. Frankly, I’ve been trying to for years but you evaded me at every turn. You can’t evade me at this one, though. My death ensured that- that is unless you’re not reading this and I misjudged your caliber on the whole fairy house thing. I don’t know, I figure you’d thrive there for some reason. I think Walt Whitman said something about the strongest tree in the forest is the one that sprouts against all odds.

My eye twitches at the butchering of the quote and that he confused Walt Disney with Walt Whitman, but I carry on.

Anyways, sorry not sorry for rambling. I like you. No, that’s putting it mildly. I think I’ve been in love with your weirdness since we first sat together in that class. I had hoped you wrote this poem about me but was too afraid to ever ask you about it. I know it’s no consolation for the animosity I displayed toward you, but I was just so terrified. Your presence left me unsettled and we got stuck together so much after that. So I reciprocated and instilled the fear in you that you put in me. It was wrong and I really am so sorry. Now you know how I feel, though. I bet the creatures of the forest got me. If I’m right, you owe me a kiss when next we meet, wherever that may be.

Love, Dylan Daniels. P.S. And I mean love. P.P.S. I know I got the quote entirely wrong. I bet you did that thing where your eye twitches when you can’t correct someone cuz you’re frustrated. That will be another kiss. P.P.P.S. No dictionaries were harmed in the writing of this letter. P.P.P.P.S. Well, I might have lit one on fire after.

I feel disgusted after reading the letter. He was an asshole and a creep. A knock at the door startles me into yelping. I catch my breath to answer it and Demeter pushes her way in. “Sit. We’re talking.” I do as she says; I’m still reeling from everything I just found out and Demeter is the last person anyone should ever piss off. She may be a kindly teacher and a great friend but not even the gods can save someone incurring her wrath. “You got the house, didn’t you.” It clearly wasn’t a question but I nod quietly anyways. She sighs. “Well, if anyone from this town could thrive there it would be one of us, but still. What were you thinking?” I stare into the nether. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t even want the house now,” I murmur. “It’s tainted. He even ruined the fairy house for me.” “What do you mean? You knew he had lived there when you made the ridiculous plan to swoop in on it.” I silently proffer the letter and poem without looking at her. She lets out an incredulous whistle. “Well... He tried to put his heart in the right place. I think. Ooh, girl, this boy was a mess.” She pauses, squinting at the letter. “Wait. Did he leave you the house? Holy hell.” Demeter stayed the night. I woke up the next morning to a note on my bedroom door: I’ve reconsidered the roommate thing. Be back soon, packing my stuff. If they didn’t already, the townsfolk were about to think Demeter insane, too.

Days later and we were moved into the house, though I was still uneasy. He left a lot behind- including some nearly new furniture. Probably for the best given how spartan Demeter and I both lived. I brought a desk and computer while she brought house plants and a bed. The house was old and quirky and had an air to it that we both adored. The rear garden was pressed right up against the old forest; with the fence having rotten away long since the tenants before Dylan had lived there, a new one was half built in its place- and wildflowers had overtaken most of the space. All except for one tree that sat in the center of our new yard, between the forest and the house. The entire rear half of the house had large beautiful windows that faced the forest, as well as a massive section of glass doors that opened up to the rear garden, almost like an entertainment area, thanks to the simple stone porch. “Oh, I am so fixing this up.” Demeter sounded giddy, standing in the decrepit garden. “We’ve totally got this.” “I hope so.” I can’t shake the uneasy feeling I’ve had all weekend. “I’m heading in to set up some of my supplies.” I leave Demeter to her own devices and get to work in the back room with the enormous glass doors. After a few minutes, it feels as though the very air is weighing on me. I open the doors wide, not paying any mind to the dangers of the forest. Let them come, they’d probably make better company than 99% of the good townsfolk of Greenvale. The invigorating scent of the forest fills the room and I’m suddenly in the mood for oil pastels.

It’s been a week now and I still feel trapped whenever I’m in the house. I feel as though I’m being watched any time I’m on the property. The eyes from the forest seem more curious than anything- it’s inside that I feel I’m in danger. After going on an unnecessary shopping trip for the umpteenth time since moving in, I decide to be productive and prepare a basket of food for those that dwell in the forest. Fruits, nuts, pepitas, and even some actual food I cooked up. I set the basket out back, near the treeline, and go back to the room I claimed for my studio. When next I look outside, the basket is empty and moved closer to the house. I hope they enjoyed it.

I get home earlier than Demeter and begin to make a habit of leaving food out for my new neighbors- including a dish of milk on my window sill. Each day, the basket is returned closer and closer to the house. I begin finding gifts of seeds, flowers, and odd trinkets in the returned basket. Demeter joyously nurtures the seeds into all manner of strange and exotic plants. One day, when the house is feeling particularly stifling, I decide to go to the forest edge to get away from it. I find a cozy spot beneath a tree and start writing. I hear the basket being moved but I’m too in the flow to pay any attention- that is until I notice a curious fox looming over my notebook. I don’t want to spook it so I continue writing. Eventually, the fox lays its head on my wrist, watching the pencil soar across the pages. I suppress the urge to make a high pitched noise in joy at this blessing. My trips to the forest edge became more frequent- as did the fox’s joining me. I started bringing treats for my new friend who cozied up to me as I worked. One day, when Demeter was out later for student conferences, I went out to the back porch- still outside but sheltered from the storm that had rolled in. I mistakenly drifted off to sleep to the sound of rain- and far more easily than I could have fallen asleep inside the house. I awakened to find myself wrapped in a fine silk cloak lined with the softest fur I have ever felt in my life- and I pet a lot of cats. I also note that I am now inside and the doors are shut. It’s already morning, as well. Demeter is in the kitchen, making herself a quick breakfast before she heads off to work. “I’m glad to see you made it home safely. Did you bring me inside?” “What? No, you were asleep on the floor when I got home last night. I feel like it’s the first time you’ve slept since we got here.” I grunt noncommittally and leave the room. Later on, I return the cloak, folded in the basket with yet another assortment of tasty goodies. This time I'm reading rather than working on one of my projects. The fox returns once more and- to my joy- curls up in my lap. I stroke his soft fur while I read and eventually I can hear the soft contented snoring of my vulpine buddy. I'm so comfortable that for the second day in a row I make the mistake of falling asleep outside. This time, as the beams of morning sunlight drift through my eyelids, I’m in my room. The luxurious cloak is covering me once more and the fox is curled up next to my head. The Prompt Next

#part 1 #I've been at this for almost six hours and need to stop #writing prompt #Lull of the Forest #the prompt is the post before this one

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rkhyemin-blog · 7 years

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끈!

⋯ , hey everyone !! thanks for the welcome back. a brief recap from hyemin’s about page ,

CURRENTLY, she’s a communications major at SNU who does art on the side; she resonates with jane lane from the show daria. she has the most precious dimples you will ever see, & a ridiculously expansive makeup and wig collection. tbh she’s having a weird midlife crisis about a few decade too early and is combatting that with alcohol !!

PERSONALITY-WISE, she’s an isfp, a.k.a. colorful, charming, & creative BUT competitive, wary, easily stressed, a little cynical & super unpredictable !! very easygoing with the people she loves and her home is your home.

below are some PLOT IDEAS ( unrestricted by gender, but may have other reqs ), all of which can be expanded to fit muses !! i’m also down to plot something new ( either by IM or by twitter dm’s @vellichord ) if you can’t find anything for your muse —- leggooooo

☇ 01 . rehab ⋰ you meet as the only two patrons in a hongdae bar on a thursday at 11 AM. bonnie & clyde as alcoholics, baby!

☇ 02 . back to black ⋰ it’s complicated − you two bummed your way through high school together, thinking smoking in the stairwell was cool. hyemin hadn’t found herself, and she attached to you. bandmates, best friends, and something a little bit closer to the heart. ( ‘freaks & geeks’ aesthetics !! )

☇ 03 . in my bed ⋰ what began as a simple, neighborly ‘hello’ has devolved into months of crises, poignancy, conundrums, parties − and now, your bond is so robust that your doors are always unlocked for one another. cheers to complaining on each others’ couches and borrowing pots & pans!!

☇ 04 . fuck me pumps ⋰ you two are simply trying to hook-up at a mutual friend’s house party because single and lust-imbued but every distraction and obstacle that could present itself occurs.

☇ 05 . you know i’m no good ⋰ the messier hyemin gets, the more she latches onto bad habits. will you berate her and tell her how unhealthy it all is, at the expense of hyemin resisting and changing the topic with all her might?

☇ 06 . will you still love me tomorrow? ⋰ from a high school romance filled with furtive glances, tenderness, and profound phone calls, the saccharine moments were bound to dissolve bitterly. you parted ways due to inevitable consequences and distance, but she never expected to lock eyes with you years later, when you walk down her street as she smokes on the steps outside of her apartment building.

☇ 07 . i heard love is blind ⋰ every bit as broken as hyemin, you possess a dynamic, roughed up bond -- enabling each other yet looking out for each other. it’s your flaws which tie you together, it’s an addiction as much as it is a panacea.

☇ 08 . wake up alone ⋰ you had a relationship akin to john-and-yoko’s -- free, flowy, blissful and airy love, hyemin’s best pieces of art borne of your love. the cracks materialized and burst forth when your affair came in the form of an untimely stroll through your apartment at the wrong time. you come to hyemin now, seeing forgiveness, and she must make a decision.

☇ 09 . know you now ⋰ hyemin cannot wrap her head around a class assignment, so she stops you after class. somehow, ten hours later, you have gone out for drinks, gone shopping together, and the assignment hasn’t been started at all. ( must go to snu, or take classes there )

☇ 10 . october song ⋰ everybody has embarrassing moments from their pasts, buried under formulaic suppression. while hyemin revels in the fact that she formed a band with her high schoolmates years back, you stop her on the street with a laugh brewing, recognizing hyemin from the show where the performance consisted her band being egged by a rival band at the school.

☇ 11 . body & soul ⋰ you decide to couchsurf for a weekend, just to get away from the droll routine or chaos of your life. you know what that means -- eternal slumber party, baby !! popcorn, tv, hyemin practicing makeup on you, and late night talks until the sun rises.

☇ 12 . cherry ⋰ it’s the artist-muse relationship of the era -- wherein you respond to a flyer hyemin posts, and she awkwardly and silently admires you from afar, pretending like your posing nude for a few good hours isn’t driving her up the wall.

☇ 13 . between the cheats ⋰ hyemin only pins you as the horrific ex-partner of her brother. what is she to do when you slime your way into her life, with a favor to ask?

☇ 14 . like smoke ⋰ simply, you overhear a hammered hyemin telling her friend how attractive she finds you in an art gallery -- how will you respond to that?

☇ 15 . mr. magic ⋰ as much as hyemin feigns cynicism, your charm is gratingly effective. however, she’s unwilling to admit it to anybody, as obvious as it is. how much longer until you sway her?

☇ 16 . some unholy way ⋰ the beginnings were tender, pals joined by the intimacy from when hyemin was a humble twelve years old. family camping trips, eating lunch together every day, the works -- ‘best friends’ was too distant to describe the loyalty you two had. come high school (senior year), and a slew of drama wrenches the two of you apart. hyemin could never forgive you, effectively wiping the memories from her mind, but the blind date one of her friends sets up happens to be you.

I ALSO REALLY WANT HER TO BE A PART OF A CIRCLE OF FRIENDS IN THEIR EARLY 20′S WHO ARE ALL KIND OF FLOATING & FIGURING SHIT OUT TBH,

GIVE ME ALL THE ANGST IN THE WORLD,

AWKWARD FLASHBACKS TO WHEN HYEMIN WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL, AND MORE PEOPLE WHO WERE PART OF HER BAND IN HIGH SCHOOL,

NO ONE’S RELATIONSHIPS ARE ALL PEACHY KEEN, THERE WILL DEFINITELY BE PEOPLE WHO LOSE TOUCH WITH HER, WHO DISLIKE HER DUE TO DISAGREEMENTS, PEOPLE WHO STAND HER UP OR DISRESPECT HER FOR ONE REASON OR ANOTHER,

SHE LOVES TREATING PEOPLE YOUNGER THAN HER (EVEN BY A FEW MONTHS) LIKE HER BABIES,

OTHER PEOPLE WILLING TO GET DRUNK AF WITH HER AND GETTING INTO ALL SORTS OF SHIT (THINK IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN PHILADELPHIA),

AND LOTS OF PLOTS REVOLVING AROUND HER BEING AN ARTIST THX. VALIDATE HER.

#* & . ribbons #tw*alcoholism #tw*mention of sex #( if i'm gonna be honest she's one of my fav muses in a long time )#( tbh just a fun-loving gal finding her place in this universe pls love her or not )

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