Rose Strider ∴ truculentTactician (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
restitchtime) wrote2012-08-01 08:36 pm
restitchtime) wrote2012-08-01 08:36 pm
(no subject)
Rose Strider's first awareness to Derse occurs long before she ever hears the name Sburb, in an incident so trifling that she doesn't even recall it by the time it becomes relevant to her life. She's five years old, resentful of her brother already and perpetually in a foul mood owing to the severe sunburn nearly always plaguing her. It will be some time before she realizes the rays of Houston don't share the intense love she feels for them in kind; until then she simply slathers herself on aloe every night before slithering into bed.
This particular night is ominous long before she ever shuts her eyes with a storm on the horizon and thunder rumbling sullenly in the distance. Rose doesn't pay it much mind (she loves the frenetic rage of summer storms) and soon drifts off to sleep on an oversized mattress that makes her small frame appear even more fragile than it actually is.
She awakes in a world of purples and velvet silence, blinking furiously as her young mind attempts to make sense of its new surroundings.
All confusion is instantly eradicated as hopping out of bed elicits the joyful discovery that for some reason she's capable of flight in this lavender room. Rose spends what feels like an eternity flipping and zooming around, acting like the child she is in ways she won't allow herself in the real world.
Soon enough however she becomes aware that the heavy silence blanketing this strange world has been broken, as if some presence is reacting to her actions. A crooning almost whisper pervades the room, leaking in through the open window standing tantalizingly close to where Rose is floating. Unable to keep her growing curiosity at bay, she closes the space between herself and the window and sticks her head out eagerly.
What she sees sends her hurtling back to wakefulness, screaming and thrashing in her bed until she falls off it in a noisy tangle of terrified girl and sheets.
The chaos in her room is enough to bring Bro in from wherever the man goes when the sun sets (she refuses to believe he sleeps) to check on his charge and insure that she hasn't been brutally murdered by a thief. Rose is distressed enough that she doesn't pull away from him when he finally detaches her from her bedspread, a fact worrisome enough to prompt him to spend the night asleep on her floor.
She never tells him, but it makes her feel much better.
Years later Rose Strider is thirteen and newly aware of the purple planet she'd visited once (and only once) as a child. Although it has a name and a fellow resident now, she remains as disdainful of it as she had been after that hazy night in the past. The horrorterrors hanging from the sky like demented stars sent chills down her spine and made her determined to never leave the obsidian tower of her dreams.
Today she breaks that promise.
With sunglasses neatly folded up and hung off the collar of her stupid lilac pajamas, Rose walks with slow purpose to the window and slings herself over to perch on the sill. Her eyes narrow as she practically feels the ancient eyes of the tentacled gods in the sky turn to regard her with excited curiosity.
She isn't afraid today; she's angry, and that familiar emotion gives her the strength to face down these monsters in their own territory. She had something to say and these monstrosities were going to listen whether they liked it or not.
"All right, listen up. We both know that you're not actually Lalonde's friends and you're leading him on for your own shadowy bullshit." Her tone is sharp and businesslike, but her hands dig into the rough stone of the window as she speaks. She hopes they can't see.
"So I'm not going to run through vague cryptic bullshit with you fuckers because we both know what's up. I'm just going to let you know that if you hurt him I'm going to personally eradicate you all from existence and make it as painful as I possibly can."
Without her glasses she's painfully exposed, nothing to keep her apart from this undulating horrors. But Rose isn't compelled to put them back on - she wants them to see just how much she means this, how close they are to fucking themselves over a thousand times.
With her message delivered she swings her legs back into the tower, pausing only to throw one last comment to her endless audience.
"That's not a threat, by the way. That's a promise."
-- fuckinghandles [EB] began pestering truculentTactician [TT] --
EB: hehehehehehe.
EB: my darling red rose, i really and truly underestimated you!
EB: i knew that you were a loyal friend but i did not think you would be so endearing about the whole thing!
EB: it is really touching.
TT: What the fuck are you talking about, Lalonde? You sound even crazier than you usually do somehow.
EB: did you really think that my friends would not tell me about your naptime escapades?
EB: you are so rarely on derse that it was practically all they could talk about!
TT: ...I don't know what's harder for me to believe here, the fact that a bunch of otherworldly nightmare squid are gossiping about the goddamn threat on their life I made or the fact that you think it's cute.
TT: Is everyone associated with that fucking moon touched in the head or something?
EB: protest all you want, rosie, but i know that you do not make promises lightly.
EB: you must care for me very much if you would take such lengths to insure i am safe.
TT: I honestly don't care if your stupid dabbling with dark forces gets you filleted and pinned to a wall because you'd deserve every fucking minute of that shit.
TT: But I don't know if you've noticed, but we need all the players still breathing to finish this clusterfuck of a game.
TT: I'm just trying to make sure that you don't sabotage an already shitty set of odds.
EB: of course. i suppose that i was just being silly.
EB: but it is still a very lovely gesture!
EB: almost as lovely as you are, red rose.
TT: Ok, I'm fucking done here. Go creep on somebody else, I've got shit to do.
-- truculentTactician [TT] has stopped pestering fuckhandles [EB] --
This particular night is ominous long before she ever shuts her eyes with a storm on the horizon and thunder rumbling sullenly in the distance. Rose doesn't pay it much mind (she loves the frenetic rage of summer storms) and soon drifts off to sleep on an oversized mattress that makes her small frame appear even more fragile than it actually is.
She awakes in a world of purples and velvet silence, blinking furiously as her young mind attempts to make sense of its new surroundings.
All confusion is instantly eradicated as hopping out of bed elicits the joyful discovery that for some reason she's capable of flight in this lavender room. Rose spends what feels like an eternity flipping and zooming around, acting like the child she is in ways she won't allow herself in the real world.
Soon enough however she becomes aware that the heavy silence blanketing this strange world has been broken, as if some presence is reacting to her actions. A crooning almost whisper pervades the room, leaking in through the open window standing tantalizingly close to where Rose is floating. Unable to keep her growing curiosity at bay, she closes the space between herself and the window and sticks her head out eagerly.
What she sees sends her hurtling back to wakefulness, screaming and thrashing in her bed until she falls off it in a noisy tangle of terrified girl and sheets.
The chaos in her room is enough to bring Bro in from wherever the man goes when the sun sets (she refuses to believe he sleeps) to check on his charge and insure that she hasn't been brutally murdered by a thief. Rose is distressed enough that she doesn't pull away from him when he finally detaches her from her bedspread, a fact worrisome enough to prompt him to spend the night asleep on her floor.
She never tells him, but it makes her feel much better.
Years later Rose Strider is thirteen and newly aware of the purple planet she'd visited once (and only once) as a child. Although it has a name and a fellow resident now, she remains as disdainful of it as she had been after that hazy night in the past. The horrorterrors hanging from the sky like demented stars sent chills down her spine and made her determined to never leave the obsidian tower of her dreams.
Today she breaks that promise.
With sunglasses neatly folded up and hung off the collar of her stupid lilac pajamas, Rose walks with slow purpose to the window and slings herself over to perch on the sill. Her eyes narrow as she practically feels the ancient eyes of the tentacled gods in the sky turn to regard her with excited curiosity.
She isn't afraid today; she's angry, and that familiar emotion gives her the strength to face down these monsters in their own territory. She had something to say and these monstrosities were going to listen whether they liked it or not.
"All right, listen up. We both know that you're not actually Lalonde's friends and you're leading him on for your own shadowy bullshit." Her tone is sharp and businesslike, but her hands dig into the rough stone of the window as she speaks. She hopes they can't see.
"So I'm not going to run through vague cryptic bullshit with you fuckers because we both know what's up. I'm just going to let you know that if you hurt him I'm going to personally eradicate you all from existence and make it as painful as I possibly can."
Without her glasses she's painfully exposed, nothing to keep her apart from this undulating horrors. But Rose isn't compelled to put them back on - she wants them to see just how much she means this, how close they are to fucking themselves over a thousand times.
With her message delivered she swings her legs back into the tower, pausing only to throw one last comment to her endless audience.
"That's not a threat, by the way. That's a promise."
-- fuckinghandles [EB] began pestering truculentTactician [TT] --
EB: hehehehehehe.
EB: my darling red rose, i really and truly underestimated you!
EB: i knew that you were a loyal friend but i did not think you would be so endearing about the whole thing!
EB: it is really touching.
TT: What the fuck are you talking about, Lalonde? You sound even crazier than you usually do somehow.
EB: did you really think that my friends would not tell me about your naptime escapades?
EB: you are so rarely on derse that it was practically all they could talk about!
TT: ...I don't know what's harder for me to believe here, the fact that a bunch of otherworldly nightmare squid are gossiping about the goddamn threat on their life I made or the fact that you think it's cute.
TT: Is everyone associated with that fucking moon touched in the head or something?
EB: protest all you want, rosie, but i know that you do not make promises lightly.
EB: you must care for me very much if you would take such lengths to insure i am safe.
TT: I honestly don't care if your stupid dabbling with dark forces gets you filleted and pinned to a wall because you'd deserve every fucking minute of that shit.
TT: But I don't know if you've noticed, but we need all the players still breathing to finish this clusterfuck of a game.
TT: I'm just trying to make sure that you don't sabotage an already shitty set of odds.
EB: of course. i suppose that i was just being silly.
EB: but it is still a very lovely gesture!
EB: almost as lovely as you are, red rose.
TT: Ok, I'm fucking done here. Go creep on somebody else, I've got shit to do.
-- truculentTactician [TT] has stopped pestering fuckhandles [EB] --