QUIET MOUNDS - STEF HEART

[abardacttofollow]

You find yourself in a stone room that looks like some sort of medieval dungeon. There are (thankfully), no torture instruments, but there is a man strung up here. One large manacle is around his neck, chaining him stiffly to the door. His hands are free, but each foot is manacled to the matching bottom corner of the doorframe. There is a visible lock on each of the three manacles.

It's Stefen, and there's a knife in his chest. Despite that, he's alive, apparently alert, and doesn't look to be in pain, perhaps due to the lulling, sense-dulling music that seems to be coming from nowhere at all—in fact, if you were in pain before you entered, it's gone here. His wound is bleeding, but only a little, and he smiles his usual bright smile at you.

Behind him, but in front of the closed door he's bound to, you can see three double sets of strings running vertically. Where they meet the floor, they are fastened, and then each runs across the floor to the three doors on the opposite wall, then under them.

There is nothing else in this room.

((OOC: Here's how this will work! Since we're doing individual runs, rather than me putting up individual top levels for areas, just jump the post itself, and I'll run everything for you within your one thread. If you're wanting to do a run with someone else, just stay in the same thread together.))

Comments

[abardacttofollow]

[That's his left foot. He wiggles it]

Oh, I love you, I love you. Every inch of me, inside and out.

[twicebonded]

[he fumbles as he unlocks him, looking up at Stefen, flushed. which is also not a bad image]

[abardacttofollow]

[lifts his foot after and bumps it against Vanyel's chin]

Lovely.

[twicebonded]

. . . you're a flirt. Even in this situation.

[abardacttofollow]

How could I not be?

[twicebonded]

Haah . . .

[leans up to kiss him again]

[abardacttofollow]

Mmm... [tangles fingers in Vanyel's hair. The downside is you can feel the handle of the knife in his chest bumping between you.]

[twicebonded]

[he does draw back pretty quickly, shaking his head]

I'll see you soon.

[heading off to the last path]

Performance 1

[abardacttofollow]

You find yourself in a medieval classroom in some sort of large, palace-like environment (something like this), with stained glass in the windows and old desks all lined up, slates on each. All of the desks have a different boy or girl wearing brown sitting in it—mostly boys— except for one desk in the very middle, which is empty. All the boys are whispering to each other, a soft, background susurration. The cord runs through the middle of the room and under the locked door behind the teacher's lectern.

The teacher is a handsome young man in red, who is checking a mark on his candle to confirm the time and is sighing. "Well, it looks like Stefen's got himself tied up—" there are titters from the classroom. "—So let's begin. He won't like what it does to his marks, I promise you that. If his work isn't done…"

He doesn't finish whatever threat or promise he's thinking of, just clears his throat and begins to teach a lesson on compositional theory.

The door behind the lectern is closed and locked, and there is a scale set next to it, clearly attached to the door in some way.

A sign on the door reads: "What is the weight of security?"

[twicebonded]

[. . . goes a sullen red, scowling]

[sits in the empty desk]

[abardacttofollow]

There's even more tittering as a strange boy comes in and sits at Stefen's desk. "Leave him knocked out, I wonder," one student whispers to another, deliberately audible.

[twicebonded]

[turns and gives them a dazzling, knifelike smile]

I wouldn't worry, if I were you.

[abardacttofollow]

"Who's worried," one retorts.

"Students," the teacher calls. "If you have time to gossip about observers you have time to focus."

[twicebonded]

[gives his hair a little flick, turning his attention to the desk. anything of interest . . .?]

[abardacttofollow]

You find some class notes and a fully written score with Stef's name on it, titled "Ode to Boys".

[twicebonded]

[covers his mouth to stifle a laugh]

[going to take that and move up to the front, murmuring a brief apology to the lecture]

Pardon, but it does look like Stef has completed all of his work. If you don't mind?

[abardacttofollow]

"Oh! Did he? That's a relief, when he didn't show up for class I thought... well, I appreciate you handing it in on his behalf. Please put it there for now." He gestures toward the scale plate.

[twicebonded]

I can't imagine why he wouldn't want to be here. What with the pleasant atmosphere.

[drops the music on the scale]

[abardacttofollow]

Click.

The teacher winces a little. "Well... even so, he'll only hurt his own chances. But not this time."

[twicebonded]

He'll hurt his own chances if he's not flawless in the face of prejudice? Is that what we're learning these days?

[abardacttofollow]

"If he doesn't show up or hand things in? I have to weigh things fairly." He's sweating under the collar.

[twicebonded]

Oh, yes. All in the interest of fairness.

[I'm fucking done with this conversation. heads onwards]

Performance 2

[abardacttofollow]

The next is a shared dorm room, small and cozy, with something like corking up all over the walls. It makes it not the prettiest room, but it's very quiet. Even that background music that won't stop is muffled here.

There are two twin beds crammed in, with a small desk beside each. Both desks are absolute messes of writing utensils and musical instruments and parchment. One bed is made up like it hasn't been slept in, while the other is all rucked up and has a sweet, but slightly sweaty, scent coming from it.

A young man is here—a much younger Medren, brown hair at an awkward length and his shoulders just a little too big for his current form. He's maybe twelve or thirteen at most. He's plinking away at a song on a gittern and laughing about it, the sound warm.

As before, the cord runs through the room and under a locked door with some sort of weighted platform next to it.

A sign on the door reads: "What is the weight of family? What of love?"

[twicebonded]

Oh. Hello, little nephew.

[managing to calm down a little, letting some of his anger seep away at seeing Medren]

[abardacttofollow]

"Hello, remarkably little uncle," Medren says cheerily.