hear the ice crack // OPEN

[the_fairest_flower]

« Who: Jamie the_fairest_flower
« What: Event things; Jan/Feb catch-all
« When: January 1 - February 28
« Content Warnings: smut somewhere probably; body horror, reality break




True Love's Kiss

Anyone stumbling into Jamie's dreams will find a mix of memory and nightmare. It's hard to tell where one stops and the other begins, or if there's any real difference. Jamie is trapped in his dreams. He should be able to find his way out, that's within his power, but he can't.

Cleansed, Flensed
[ cw: body horror]

The room is large, open and airy. Gauzy curtains blow in a pleasant breeze that carries the scent of the sea and if one listens they may hear distant waves crashing. They'll also hear someone screaming or crying. A large stone tub sits in the middle of the room and there is someone in it, currently tended by two faceless, willowy humanoid creatures.

Despite not having visible mouths, one says, "Hush. You must be made ready."

The other chimes in: "Your life will be one of beauty. We must scour away what is unsuitable."

The first attendant firmly grips a sun-tanned arm in one hand; the other dips into a nearby container - it appears to be full of something glittering, like sand or crushed glass. Then it starts to rub the exfoliating paste along the arm it holds. A weaker but no less terrified or desperate cry comes from the tub.

Jamie takes sobbing, heaving breaths, broken by little hiccups that might once have been protest. There are no words left. The water in the tub is tinged pink, and it becomes clear that the sand - glass? - is stripping away... skin? Anyone looking can tell where the boy in the tub has been scrubbed already: the skin is pale and entirely unblemished with a dewy glow. Anything else is still tanned from the sun, bears a few little imperfections, scars, and bruises. There is very little of that left: just the arm currently being scrubbed, that shoulder, and part of the leg on the same side.

The second attendant looks (it has no eyes) directly at the visitor and speaks: "Assist. Or leave."


The Drowning Garden

Through the gate appears to be a country garden, but instead of a sunny meadow, the garden sits in a field that leads down to the sandy shore and into the sea. The waves reach higher with each crash, like hands stretching toward the garden - the tide is coming in. The air carries the thrilling, electric feeling of a coming storm. To stand here is to experience the perfection of those sensations, to be drawn foward.

There are beds of flowers that seem to be growing wild, but the path through them suggests some cultivation. Flowers and grasses and shrubs never see anywhere but dreams; others may be painfully familiar. Sounds come from the dense patches of growth - words, or just sighs, or just the wind through petals and branches. Around one corner there is a bench with an unobstructed view of the water (the tide has reached the edge of the field, it's reach still climbing). Standing at the edge of that flower bed is someone, something, that is beautiful to behold. Petal-soft skin in rose white and sweet pea pink, the creature seems as much a part of the garden as any of the other decorative plants and yet is set apart as something special, something meant to be seen and enjoyed. Something that is so very difficult to look away from.

"You shouldn't be here."

The sweet voice is nearly lost on the wind kicking up; it pulls at the creature's pale hair and the diaphanous fabric of the simple clothes it wears. The shape of its body is enhanced, not hidden. It looks at the dreamer - directly at them, seeing them - and hugs itself.


The Nightmare
[cw: violence, eldritch horror? ish? ]

"Jamie. You remember, right? I do. Of course I do, sweetheart. How could I ever for got you? I love you." A broad, calloused hand cradling a soft cheek, the scent of flowers and hops. "I'll get us out of here, but I need you."

A soft, sharp breath and endless blue eyes stare up. Its lips move - love - but it's a moment more before it summons its voice. "Okay. Anything."

"That's my boy."

--

The knife is sharp. It cuts into flesh that is not flesh and black water pours out into the bed. The pretty, pale creature screams, but its voice is drowned out by something that sounds like the roar of the ocean. It scrambles off the bed, falling from it and into the cold (it's so cold) water filling the room, pouring from the body on the bed. It gets up, but stands frozen, staring at writhing limbs as those emerge too. It's never hurt anyone before. Has it grown thorns?

A broad hand grips its arm.

"Jamie. Run."

--

"Who could ever love you? You were empty when I found you and the Old Man somehow managed to hollow you out more. There is nothing there to love. There never was."

It hits like a physical blow. Jamie can't breathe. He can't move. "You saved me."

"You were useful. You can do one last thing for me: your heart, Jamie."

It hurts. The weight in his chest is too much and still Jamie clutches at himself like he's trying to keep something inside him. Does he even have it to give anymore? Sam says he does.

"I can't," he whispers. "It's mine. I don't love you."

"You never could lie to me." A broad hand grabs his arm and the other plunges into his chest. Jamie screams and his voice cuts off abruptly as Sam steps back with a wilting, frost-bitten flower in his hand. Then he's gone.

Jamie lays on a hardwood floor, panting, staring at nothing, and once again pressing his hands to his chest. Tears run down his cheek, but they freeze before they get too far. Light twists and bends. He's empty. Maybe he's always been empty.

He doesn't seem to notice that anyone is still standing nearby.

Play it Safe

Public sex? Semi-public sex? The thrill of maybe getting caught? Jamie is more than happy to indulge.

[ ooc: Wildcard me for this one or I'm happy to write a starter for us! Ping me on givemedragons or PM and I'll get on it. ]