So you didn't know that's what your world was until recently?
[ he does remember her mentioning some other fairy tale characters before, but he'd kind of assumed that meant they were just one big fairy tale universe that hung out together normally. ]
Well, our stories weren't going the way they should have, for one. I woke up after a hundred years and there was no prince, and the briars were all over me. [She gestures to them, perhaps needlessly. The scars alone would be enough.] They covered the whole kingdom. Any prince that tried to come for me had died in them. It took me months to get out.
Others were getting hurt too. Ylfa, that's Little Red, she had to eat the Wolf to survive and became something of a monster herself. And Pinocchio—
[It's as if she flipped a trigger. They're engulfed once more, though this time it's less watching and more doing.
Todomatsu 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.
[ yeah. yeah, that does sum it up pretty damn well. ]
...Oh.
[ he feels sweaty and nauseated when it's over and has to take a moment to get it together. he thinks he remembers now, vaguely, running through a world that was falling apart once before, but the atmosphere then could hardly have been more different from this. they really are from very different genres.
though that thing just now— was it really even a part of those stories or something else altogether?
he swallows. ]
Um, was that... what was behind everything, then...?
She's covering her mouth and wincing, battling back the queasiness. She's had this replayed to her a few times already and it has not once gotten easier.]
Mostly, yes. I think she was the biggest reason things fell apart. [One look at poor Totty helps clear her own nausea. She puts a hand to his shoulder. Bracing, comforting.] That was the Stepmother. From Cinderella's story. I think she was the first to really find out what we were.
And she didn't like the role she was forced to play.
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no subject
So you didn't know that's what your world was until recently?
[ he does remember her mentioning some other fairy tale characters before, but he'd kind of assumed that meant they were just one big fairy tale universe that hung out together normally. ]
How were things going wrong?
((cw: body/edritch horror, cannibalism, threatening minors, squelching noises))
Others were getting hurt too. Ylfa, that's Little Red, she had to eat the Wolf to survive and became something of a monster herself. And Pinocchio—
[It's as if she flipped a trigger. They're engulfed once more, though this time it's less watching and more doing.
Todomatsu 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))
no subject
...Oh.
[ he feels sweaty and nauseated when it's over and has to take a moment to get it together. he thinks he remembers now, vaguely, running through a world that was falling apart once before, but the atmosphere then could hardly have been more different from this. they really are from very different genres.
though that thing just now— was it really even a part of those stories or something else altogether?
he swallows. ]
Um, was that... what was behind everything, then...?
no subject
She's covering her mouth and wincing, battling back the queasiness. She's had this replayed to her a few times already and it has not once gotten easier.]
Mostly, yes. I think she was the biggest reason things fell apart. [One look at poor Totty helps clear her own nausea. She puts a hand to his shoulder. Bracing, comforting.] That was the Stepmother. From Cinderella's story. I think she was the first to really find out what we were.
And she didn't like the role she was forced to play.