[closed] i have made mistakes

[dontpokethat]

Who: Ginko and Foster (and Steven and Greg and Psi)
When: October 18th
Where: Foster’s apartment
What: Foster helps Ginko with his fae flower problem.
Warnings: Mind control, probably talk of attempted kidnapping?? Also like. Eye socket trauma.

It takes well over an hour for Ginko to wake up from the effects of the pollen - plenty of time for Foster to remove him from the park and take the necessary precautions.

When he wakes up, it takes him a few moments to realize that he’s not where he had been before. Rather than lying facedown in the park, his face shoved into the dirt and his skull feeling like it’s breaking apart, he’s on his back on an actual bed, with his skull feeling like it’s just cracking a little… which would be an improvement, if it weren’t for two factors.

He’s got no idea where Steven is, and he can’t move his arms.

Or… well, he can. But not very far, or effectively; his wrists are cuffed to the bed, and no amount of pulling against the cuffs seems to be loosening them up. He looks around frantically, trying to get some idea of how he could free himself - or even how this happened to begin with.

Comments

Content warning uhhh fire, setting things in people's faces... on fire... you know

[control_freak]

He can feel Ginko tense underneath him, like a seizure, like a spasm, but he doesn't react save to close his hand down harder over Ginko's mouth, his fingers pressing into cheekbones. Ginko's struggles are only going to make it harder, and Foster's forcibly attempting to hold him still.

He keeps his hold on the rose.

If knowing Axel has taught him anything, it's that the fastest solution to plants is fire. And if he sold his soul for anything...

The heat starts in his fingertips, a feeling like sparks and like being burnt, like slivers microscopically fine being inserted into each and every groove or pore--or maybe emerging, needles of hellfire, travelling up the stem and down the rose in thin lines, kindling inside the woody core.

And the rose begins to burn. Inside, first--Foster doesn't know anything about plants, but he's trying, with every ounce of concentration, every ounce of power and focus and control to keep the entire thing from igniting like a bonfire inside of Ginko's face.

The fae nature of the thing is the only reason it doesn't. The stem begins to crumble in the middle, bright spots of ember and the inner fire still visible--like a column of ash from a cigar, burning and intact, but barely.

[dontpokethat]

Not too surprisingly, having something that's in his eye socket burned is... not exactly comfortable. And, even if the rose isn't actually a part of him, its magic is.

The pain starts out dull and burning, just inside his eye socket - and then it spreads, sharpens, like needles in his skull. He struggles all the harder, his muffled protests becoming louder and more insistent, until, if it weren't for Foster's hand over his mouth, he'd be screaming outright.

I ROLLED A 4

[control_freak]

Wow, yes, Ginko, that's really helping him concentrate. He does his best to filter out the excess--Ginko's muffled attempt to scream is actually less distracting than the way he's fighting the cuffs, thrashing under Foster as the warlock struggles to hold him down.

The column of ash and ember travels up the stem as well as down it--the roots extend invisibly behind the bone, so that Foster can no longer use his eyes to guide him.

The heat is inside Ginko's eye now; Foster himself is breathing hard, irregularly.

The petals and leaves begin to wither and smoke.

Suddenly they ignite, and Foster loses control. The head of the rose combusts inches from his face, the roots flash over.

The fireball of petals falls as the ash column crumbles, scattering embers over Ginko's face. Foster really only has a fraction of a second to stop the spell from igniting everything, leaving him with less than that to decide whether to catch the rosehead or not.

Ginko is definitely going to owe him a new pillow.

BETTER THAN A 2

[dontpokethat]

For a while, Ginko keeps fighting back as well as he can - which isn't saying much, but. He's trying. He keeps trying as the pain burrows into the socket, stabs into flesh and bone, and--

The rose bursts into flames, and suddenly agony whites out all his other senses, until it's all he can feel.

Then he doesn't feel that, either.

On the bright side, Ginko isn't conscious when the embers burn against his skin - and he's not struggling anymore and making it more difficult for Foster to run damage control.

[control_freak]

And just like that.... it's over.

Ginko, unconscious, his face dusted with ash. The remains of the fae rose have collapsed into the empty socket of his missing eye, covering the open burns from Foster's hellfire.

Foster, still sitting--breathing hard, only just now becoming aware of the sweat slicking his hairline.

His hair is in his face. He reaches behind him, his arms... weak, weirdly heavy, and fumbles to retrieve the butterfly clip he'd closed over one belt loop. As he pulls his hair back, he finally rises up on his knees, clipping the messy coils up before he swings his leg over Ginko's chest to sit on the mattress, legs half-folded on the sheets.

He's hazy and tired. Still angry. But...

More than anything, he wants to collapse backwards on the bed and just lie there, maybe close his eyes for just a minute, but if he does, he won't get back up again. And he knows it.

Before he gets up, he reaches forward and gently turns Ginko's face sideways on the pillow.

Just in case he vomits.

Char and burnt ends spill onto the scorched pillowcase, debris from Ginko's burned socket.

He... has a lot of cleaning up to do.