[Well GOOD NEWS ABOUT THAT, LIL MISS. Dahut's expression immediately brightens when she complains?? Why??? Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he is not suffering with a tray of sadge food, unlike her...]
Good news, good news! I have access to the kitchen, so I can see if there are any good ingredients there that I can use to whip up something tastier!
Whenever Rosamund is next moseying through the observation deck/lounge area, she might be in for a little surprise! It's perhaps a bit hard to see things well between the darkness of space stretching out beyond the windows and how often people tend to look out through them instead of at the floor, so maybe she'll bump into it.
It being a pile of white fabric on the floor. Investigate??]
It's a foot! A Dahut foot, attached to the rest of the Dahut that's currently balled up under this balled up coat. He doesn't seem to respond outside of that just yet, though. The emotional spread is, as always, slightly off kilter - like something very nearly human - and a tiny bit muted, though notably less so than Scien. The most notable thing right now is this funkyass cyclical panic, though! That's fun. It's just a feeling of panic that seems to fade a bit, flicker like an electronic about to shortcircuit, and then surge again, over and over.]
[Hi Rosamund! Are you enjoying the party? This guy hopes you are! Or something! Who knows... He's just sort of man-standing there, pixelatedly, looking at her like he's considering something?]
Oh—! Please be careful with those, they may harm you!
[Fortunately they will not, but he's cautious just in case. That flower, as well as the entire field spread out before them, is a blanket of red spider lilies - but they're all jet-black, making for a striking contrast with the blue of the sea and sky.
He also glances back behind them toward where the rift has SEALED THEM IN. "it opens if they visit it" not this time it doesn't.]
...Unfortunately, I think we'll have to proceed through whatever nonsense is here first. Just take care, okay?
No need to apologize! These are just dangerous, typically... Or rather, I can never tell when they'll be dangerous to others when they show up in things like this.
[Because this happens SO OFTEN... He'll hold her hand, though, making his careful way through the flowers. There's a little path that cuts through, so they can walk without stepping on any - and he's cautious not to.]
...It is, most likely. Or at least, this cliffside is one I'm very familiar with.
[Which, speaking of: though the sun was only just hanging a few feet above the horizon, it starts to set at an unnaturally fast clip, entirely set in just seconds. Overhead, the clouds scatter, and a big, full moon hangs over them.
The scent of the ocean also mingles with something more acrid. She's probably familiar with the iron tang of blood by now.]
[WHAT A LOVELY DAY TO BE....... at the... dripping debussy........ Hateful that this name is so awful when the location is decent.
Anyway, as she's wandering through, her peaceful lil walk will be interrupted by the sound of someone apparently coughing themselves to death behind a pillar.]
Anyway thank you very much for the comforting backrub, Dahut's trying desperately to get his coughing under control. He has so many blue flowers and petals in his lap and in the hand that's covering his mouth.]
—Sorry! I'm-- [COUGH.] -fine!
[A little poof of tiny blue petals flies out from between his fingers.]
[ROSAMUND AND GREGOR OUT HERE WITH THE KILL SWEEP well. Dahut is alive! Again!! He's freshly cleaned and wearing a nice new outfit that isn't garbage stinkified, and he seems... very fine! Completely fine! There is a brightness about his mood that is maybe a little uncanny compared to his usual demeanor but that's surely fine, too!
He'll wave a hand and smile when he spots her, his head canting curiously to the side.]
Mademoiselle Rosamund! I believe I heard your voice earlier...?
[NOOOOOO ROSAMUND!!!! SHE'S SO SWEET and he is delighted to be scooped into a hug, even if it's with an unhinged air of optimism. He hugs her in return!! And pats her back so reassuringly!]
Oh, there's no need to look so sad! You all did your very best, I'm sure of it. And everyone is so strong that I'm equally sure they'll all feel perfectly fine in no time at all!
[Just like him! A perfectly fine-feeling normal lad!]
jk it's one of the libraries. Rosamund is laying ponderously on the ground, a book open across her chest, staring at the ceiling. She's come to no profound conclusions about the what the lack of a murder means, and the plan to revive them all hasn't quite hit fruition, so she's waiting. Antsy, dry-mouthed. She doesn't startle when she hears footsteps. She just waits.]
Dahut will meander over, enjoying a brief reprieve from the insanity of his CYOA effects. Ah, clarity of mind! He misses you so much when you're gone! He'll settle down next to her, tucking his legs up.]
A little of that, a little of wanting to give everyone a break from dealing with my terrible side-effects, a little preemptive nostalgia...
[He's been here for so long, after all - longer than almost anyone, and losing this stupid fuckin Helly Belly represents losing a lot of things to him, in the same way he imagines it means to Rosamund.]
[Very grateful its standard edition Dahut for the moment. Alter Dahut can wait.]
Oh. So you did knew you weren't quite yourself. [Not that he wasn't cheery, but it was a more palatable brand of it. Less denial involved.]
Nostalgia? [Odd. She turns her head and blinks up at him, curious. Hesitant to say much about herself.] I suppose I'm all right, really. I just don't like having to sit on my heels and wait. I know we've got a plan underway and things didn't turn out like we expected last night, but it all feels a little too...tidy.
[Regrettably, Dahut is standing a little too close to a certain princess when a memory rift swallows them whole.
He finds himself looking through the eyes of Rosamund. It's a room in a dark inn, a candle of ominous importance on the table. Standing around are a motley crew, more fable than human. They speak, fretful but quick-paced, as if sensing they're on the verge of doing something they'll regret.
"Do you want privacy while you talk to your mom?"
"No, no. I'm not-"
Rosamund pipes up, "I'd like to meet your mom."
The little puppet boy fidgets on the spot. "Yeah, I'm not embarrassed of my mom. I mean, I've never had a mom before, so, I mean, I just... And she's just very..."
He hesitates. The candle flickers before him, waiting for his choice. Before he speaks, the old man panics and thrusts Rosamund — only Rosamund — into a closet.
The light in the crack of the door shifts. There's a sense of expansion. There's a scream — a woman, not anyone present before. A shadow stretches, vast, unknowable.
And by the time the madness ends, their saviour sums it all up with one concise phrase.
Dahut's dropping his plate of scones for the third time today, he really should just give up and leave them in the kitchen and tell everyone where to get them if they want any, damn.
That's a whole lot of wildness to take in in just a few moments, though - a few moments that simultaneously sure do feel strung out over years. As the vision fades, he's left gasping for breath, a hand rising to clutch at his chest over where his memory bank is struggling to process the onslaught of foreign, strong feeling.]
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WEEK 0: First Saturday
I've never in my life had a meal where the meat tasted just like the vegetables.
[Which in turn taste like sawdust.]
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Good news, good news! I have access to the kitchen, so I can see if there are any good ingredients there that I can use to whip up something tastier!
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I mean I've eaten rough meals before. I can put up with plenty! It's no trouble, I mean it.
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w0 mon
Whenever Rosamund is next moseying through the observation deck/lounge area, she might be in for a little surprise! It's perhaps a bit hard to see things well between the darkness of space stretching out beyond the windows and how often people tend to look out through them instead of at the floor, so maybe she'll bump into it.
It being a pile of white fabric on the floor. Investigate??]
w0man.....
Rosamund bends down to peruse it. Delicately, with one hand, she prods a safe looking lump.]
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It's a foot! A Dahut foot, attached to the rest of the Dahut that's currently balled up under this balled up coat. He doesn't seem to respond outside of that just yet, though. The emotional spread is, as always, slightly off kilter - like something very nearly human - and a tiny bit muted, though notably less so than Scien. The most notable thing right now is this funkyass cyclical panic, though! That's fun. It's just a feeling of panic that seems to fade a bit, flicker like an electronic about to shortcircuit, and then surge again, over and over.]
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w4 weds
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Also she's got suspicions now. Gives a little wave?]
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AND THEN STARTS ZOOMING OVER. As soon as he's close enough, he throws a hand out toward her?!]
Hi! Let's go!
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ME WRITING THIS TAG BEFORE TRIAL AND THEN WATCHING YOUR MURDERHANDS EMERGE
w5 weds OUR OWN MEMSHARE!!!!!
[Fortunately they will not, but he's cautious just in case. That flower, as well as the entire field spread out before them, is a blanket of red spider lilies - but they're all jet-black, making for a striking contrast with the blue of the sea and sky.
He also glances back behind them toward where the rift has SEALED THEM IN. "it opens if they visit it" not this time it doesn't.]
...Unfortunately, I think we'll have to proceed through whatever nonsense is here first. Just take care, okay?
OURS! NO ONE ELSE'S!!!!!
Sorry!
[They're just so unusual? Perhaps that was the first sign they should not be trusted.]
...All right. [She nods slowly. Her first steps are cautious, and she'll reach for the boy's hand as they go.]
I take it this is something from your past?
BUNNYKICKS THE REST AWAY
[Because this happens SO OFTEN... He'll hold her hand, though, making his careful way through the flowers. There's a little path that cuts through, so they can walk without stepping on any - and he's cautious not to.]
...It is, most likely. Or at least, this cliffside is one I'm very familiar with.
[Which, speaking of: though the sun was only just hanging a few feet above the horizon, it starts to set at an unnaturally fast clip, entirely set in just seconds. Overhead, the clouds scatter, and a big, full moon hangs over them.
The scent of the ocean also mingles with something more acrid. She's probably familiar with the iron tang of blood by now.]
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FEEL BETTER SOON SWEET KABBY AAAAAAA
I'M TRYIN MAN
THE FLU RLY CAME FOR YOU...
it did, bursts into tears!!!!
OUR MEMSHARE BEFORE MEMSHARE 2
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w6 mon
Anyway, as she's wandering through, her peaceful lil walk will be interrupted by the sound of someone apparently coughing themselves to death behind a pillar.]
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Hello? [Immediate concern. She moves towards the pillar, one hand outstretched tentatively.] Hello, are you — Dahut!
[Fussing at once! She rubs at his back and holds him by the shoulder.]
Are you all right? Should I find some water? Are you sick?
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Anyway thank you very much for the comforting backrub, Dahut's trying desperately to get his coughing under control. He has so many blue flowers and petals in his lap and in the hand that's covering his mouth.]
—Sorry! I'm-- [COUGH.] -fine!
[A little poof of tiny blue petals flies out from between his fingers.]
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w6 thurs
He'll wave a hand and smile when he spots her, his head canting curiously to the side.]
Mademoiselle Rosamund! I believe I heard your voice earlier...?
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...You did.
[Okay fuck this she immediately scoops him into a hug.]
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Oh, there's no need to look so sad! You all did your very best, I'm sure of it. And everyone is so strong that I'm equally sure they'll all feel perfectly fine in no time at all!
[Just like him! A perfectly fine-feeling normal lad!]
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WEEK 6: Friday
jk it's one of the libraries. Rosamund is laying ponderously on the ground, a book open across her chest, staring at the ceiling. She's come to no profound conclusions about the what the lack of a murder means, and the plan to revive them all hasn't quite hit fruition, so she's waiting. Antsy, dry-mouthed. She doesn't startle when she hears footsteps. She just waits.]
Not sure what to do, either?
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Dahut will meander over, enjoying a brief reprieve from the insanity of his CYOA effects. Ah, clarity of mind! He misses you so much when you're gone! He'll settle down next to her, tucking his legs up.]
A little of that, a little of wanting to give everyone a break from dealing with my terrible side-effects, a little preemptive nostalgia...
[He's been here for so long, after all - longer than almost anyone, and losing this stupid fuckin Helly Belly represents losing a lot of things to him, in the same way he imagines it means to Rosamund.]
How are you feeling?
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Oh. So you did knew you weren't quite yourself. [Not that he wasn't cheery, but it was a more palatable brand of it. Less denial involved.]
Nostalgia? [Odd. She turns her head and blinks up at him, curious. Hesitant to say much about herself.] I suppose I'm all right, really. I just don't like having to sit on my heels and wait. I know we've got a plan underway and things didn't turn out like we expected last night, but it all feels a little too...tidy.
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U DONT HAVE TO TAG BACK i just prewrote this before return kicks it out of my tabs
binch i WILL write back
REACHES MY PAWS FOR U
WEEK 7: Monday ((cw: body/edritch horror, cannibalism, threatening minors, squelching noises))
He finds himself looking through the eyes of Rosamund. It's a room in a dark inn, a candle of ominous importance on the table. Standing around are a motley crew, more fable than human. They speak, fretful but quick-paced, as if sensing they're on the verge of doing something they'll regret.
"Do you want privacy while you talk to your mom?"
"No, no. I'm not-"
Rosamund pipes up, "I'd like to meet your mom."
The little puppet boy fidgets on the spot. "Yeah, I'm not embarrassed of my mom. I mean, I've never had a mom before, so, I mean, I just... And she's just very..."
He hesitates. The candle flickers before him, waiting for his choice. Before he speaks, the old man panics and thrusts Rosamund — only Rosamund — into a closet.
From there, things get strange.
The light in the crack of the door shifts. There's a sense of expansion. There's a scream — a woman, not anyone present before. A shadow stretches, vast, unknowable.
And by the time the madness ends, their saviour sums it all up with one concise phrase.
"What the fuck was that?"]
((Watch from 17:39-End))
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Dahut's dropping his plate of scones for the third time today, he really should just give up and leave them in the kitchen and tell everyone where to get them if they want any, damn.
That's a whole lot of wildness to take in in just a few moments, though - a few moments that simultaneously sure do feel strung out over years. As the vision fades, he's left gasping for breath, a hand rising to clutch at his chest over where his memory bank is struggling to process the onslaught of foreign, strong feeling.]
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WEEK 7: Saturday
You saved us! I can't believe it! That last shot? Incredible!
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Aha, thank you, thank you! Our team really managed to do some good at the tail end...
[Since they BUNGLED THE FIRST PART SO BAD.]
Are you doing okay? No injuries?
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