impacter: (150)
Solomon ([personal profile] impacter) wrote2025-09-15 12:09 am

THE ROSE WITCH - SOLOMON

[You're not sure when you received the envelope.

It slides into your belongings when you're not looking. Small, quaint, the seal of a rose in blue rather than red.

The same rose as before. The same request as before.

The writing is done by hand. But the pen seems unsteady.

---

Would you tell me?

Tell me, please, what would you give for a wish?

Dear Troupe, are you like all the rest? Or are you different now? Were you ever different? Will you ever be different?

Can you find a path forward when the world says you can only go left or right?

Show me. Find me. I want to build a path together.

Okay?
]


-------------------------------------

[For those of you who have known of the tower, you know when you last heard from its Witch. The doors, forced open, but one left behind. Coated in black roses. Unable to be freed, unable to progress. And as the way of escape closed to the rainbow roads leading into the stars, only the Witch was left behind. Only the Witch, always the Witch, smothered until nothing was left but petals of black in the silent creaking of doors.

---

If your character follows the written note, they will find their entry much the same as before. The subway greets them like a stranger, though they find their space occupied now. Filled with shadowy silhouettes. They are not like the Extras. They do not talk, they do not interact. They do not see you.

You are you. The rest are the rest.

And even before you step into the halls of the tower, there is an odd malaise that settles over you. An odd sense of separation, as though every way you look, there is glass between yourself and your surroundings. The roses are no longer red, but a deep, deep blue. Blue, blue, blue, like

the bottom of the ocean






All school roles are the same, and Extras still wander the halls, though they seem far more like apparitions. Though you can speak to Extras, and they will interact to you if prompted, you find you cannot touch them. You find their gossip is far more muted. They still speak of you, but they never seem to notice you're standing right there. They do realize it's you they're talking about, right?

Right?

--

The longer your character stays in the school, multiple things will start to happen:
- They will feel a deep loneliness sinking into their bones. Interacting with others will alleviate it slightly, but it will take effort to feel like a team. The longer they are there, the harder it is to fight.
- All characters have their memories intact on arrival, but it seems for every day spent, random memories from their past start to shed away. The oldest are at the most risk. The details grow fuzzier and fuzzier. What was important to you once? What is important to you now? Will you remember, from day to day? Does it matter?

Your character may recognize others from their previous troupe, or they may be surrounded by strangers. The school's layout has not changed much, outside some key exceptions:

- The go-karts are missing entirely. The room has been replaced with an observatory similar to the one once found in the chapel. The constellations change every time you look into the skybox, but are never quite familiar enough. At random points in the day, you might see the sky in the observatory flicker to a brilliantly unnatural white, or to a deep and unforgiving purple, before returning to normal. Sorry about your eyes.
- The chapel is back to the way it had originally started. It does not change. If you stay too long, the windows that show your sins will start to move for everyone in the space, and you can swear you hear voices calling from the glass, echoing the sounds of your memories.
- Reading through the library, you will find that in many books, regardless of subject or location, you find stories about yourself. Details stripped and greatly exaggerated, if you didn't remember yourself so well it would seem like a cruel joke. But every story you find in succession seems to twist more and more, further and further into something monstrous, filled with malice and fear. The Extras gossip will change to match the stories found in the Library, no matter how cruel they turn.
- Spending too much time near or inside the pool will have a negative effect. It may start as general unease, slowly increasing to a mental and physical pain that's hard to place, as though an unfathomable weight is pressing against you on all sides. You will have an urge to run as far as possible, to the nearest available light source, where you must stay for the effect to diminish.
- Every ingredient in the kitchen is unrecognizable. You will have to trial and error your way through your cooking.
- The elevator to the Backrooms will take you down, but every hallway loops in on itself. Waterfalls flip upside down, walkways that were dry one moment are wet the next. Disorienting, frustrating, and leading nowhere. Every once in a while, a star can be found grooved into the tiles, as though something might fit. Maybe it's just decoration.

---

The rules of your engagement for Father are presented, not by your Dramaturge, but by a sheep. A bell around its neck and a pink ribbon tied to one horn, it seems to always be roaming around the school, and its bell is all you hear when it herds you into the chapel. Staring, as a sheep does, unable to talk, as the same set of rules descends in writing to plaster permanently into the main altar area. There is no one there to answer your questions this time (the sheep certainly isn't going to!), though perhaps you might be kind enough to explain to the panicked strangers among your midst.

It is only when you leave the chapel that your phone pings. A username only called STAR.]


Oh no!

I missed everyone again?? I'm really sorry.

I hope Father wasn't too mad. He's good at that.

But don't worry! I'll find a way to meet all of you. :)

Why don't you tell me your favorite spot, and I'll come find you? You're probably confused. Unless you're certain people who aren't!

Isn't it interesting that way? I wonder if they remember why they remember! I wonder if they'll tell. Or will we pinky promise to take it to our graves?

Anyway! You're not gonna be able to respond, but you can tell Ibuki, and Ibuki will tell me, okay?

They remember a lot for being a sheep. But maybe it's better to ask a sheep than to ask a person!

:)

-☆


----

[OOC: Please use this as an AU space for Rose Witch!Solomon. I'm sorry in advance. You may prompt however you'd like, or you can come DM me on discord if you want something a little more unique. I will treat everyone as the same Troupe instance unless you specifically request to be alone in a separate Troupe.]
trollophoroi: (pic#18017988)

for yugamu we're hijacking the post; cw for blood ofc

[personal profile] trollophoroi 2025-09-15 07:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ And once more, Fandaniel is in the infirmary. So it goes, only this time, rather than an unexpected neck biting, he managed to rile up some unknown who had come in with the rest of the Troupe; not someone he recognized from the previous group, thus far less forgiving of the former ascian's antics.

He's pushed his braid aside as he works, yet again, at fixing himself up. It's as if nothing has changed at all! With him staring intently in the infirmary's little mirror as he stitches up a cut along the cheekbone. This time, his blood is fresh and red, and he grimaces at each stab of the needle, at each tug of the flesh, the pain now brighter and sharper than it had been in the past, during his first run of this wretched tower. Being actually alive certainly is a drag at times, although he can't quite claim the cons outweigh those of being a barely functional body run by magic.
]

...at least now I know who cannot possibly take a joke.

[ A sigh, overly dramatic as always, though to himself alone, or so he thinks, anyway. ]
dokudoku: (83)

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
Not everything.

[ That makes him lean back, hands on concrete. ]

Some things you carry 'till you die. Even if part of you forgets, not all of you will. That's just how people work.

[ Even if a time comes where these memories fade, instincts remain. Muscle memory. Nostalgia. The next life may be blank, but that's merely what will come after.

Yugamu peers downwards. He already has a feeling where this is going. ]


Me? I've spent a lot of time alone...I think I'm fine with a bit of company now.
trollophoroi: credit: <user name=bloodcrazed> (060;)

[personal profile] trollophoroi 2025-09-15 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ So many versions, so many choices, so many alternate endings for so many different stories. It unsettles him slightly to think he may or may not be the real him, although who judges who and what is and isn't real? All of them could have been, are, and will be the real one.

No. He will decide here and now that he is the real one, the one who must be here.

Anything less could lead to madness.
]

Mm, better that they are. I have little love for him or Hermes.

[ Cowardly, pathetic Hermes, and yet so tragic, too. He watches the child from the corner of his eye once he's reappeared. ]

No doubt they were of little use compared to me, although I must wonder, what is it you think will work this time?
dokudoku: (178)

yeehaw!!

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ Old habits die hard for everyone, it seems.

Even if he doesn't plan to let things go as they will, Yugamu still finds it an old habit to shuffle to where he can find what he's looking for. The costumerie first, for the classics; the needles, thread. Then comes the infirmary, for the rest.

In the same vein of old habits die hard, his steps are woefully silent, as is the slide of the door. Entering places like a ghost is something that still causes his teammates ire, especially early in the mornings....and upon seeing a familiar figure, however changed, it brings that familiar grin to his face. If he gets a few steps in without being noticed, all the better. ]


Already getting yourself into trouble, Sensei? [ Perhaps the term is more teasing now, even if he's back to wearing that old uniform. Look at them both, growing their hair out. ] And here I thought you were going to try and behave yourself. Not that I think it's a bad look for you...

[ Doesn't this bring back memories, however strange? An infirmary, Fandaniel fixing himself up, some unwanted(?) watchers...it's almost like they never left. ]
dokudoku: (pic#17993588)

cw

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 07:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ It may be painless and small, but Yugamu still jerks back on reflex at the sensation, fingers brushing the handle of his infuser all the same. His gaze locks onto the source for all of a few seconds before his head tilts back to look up, and he can't say he likes the sight.

This is...not what he was expecting. He's not sure what he was expecting, really, but it wasn't this. The snap of blue eyes is to catalogue everything, though it lingers on the bandages and what seem to be a nigh endless row of pockmarked scars.

A vision in his head of black roses engulfing pale flesh, ripping through the skin and blossoming like rot on a corpse. His stomach churns further. ]


...Does that surprise you?

[ Yugamu catches the thorn, letting it dig into his glove, his flesh. ]

I didn't plan on digging it out after all this time, but I figured better to be safe than sorry. Not that I'm too happy about it, mind you, I thought I'd done a pretty good job of leaving the whole 'bloodshed' thing behind me.
trollophoroi: credit: <user name=apocalypsios> (012;)

[personal profile] trollophoroi 2025-09-15 07:37 am (UTC)(link)
[ Could be he's losing his touch to let Yugamu come lurking up on him like that, because while he doesn't get a jump out of Fandaniel, he does get a pause, a sudden freeze, then a slow turn of the head to watch him from the corner of an eye. If nothing else, a familiar face is comforting, and whatever brief tenseness to him there was drains away quickly enough. ]

Oh, you know me. [ He turns back to the mirror, continuing his delicate work, but not without an amused little hum and smirk playing at the corner of his lips. ] When can I ever keep my mouth shut?

[ Ha, not a bad look? ]

You think? It is in the perfect spot to form a dashing sort of scar, isn't it?
trollophoroi: credit: <user name=bloodcrazed> (045;)

[personal profile] trollophoroi 2025-09-15 07:45 am (UTC)(link)
Ha, freedom. A curious goal for a supposedly wicked witch.

[ What they had left behind, a changed man, a wicked man, one who should not be. Amon lets out a quiet sigh and turns his full attention back to the piano keys under his fingers, and thus he begins playing a slow, winding sort of tune. ]

Or is that no longer who you are? You see, I remember the man who was left behind, buried in black roses, his life twisted into chains to keep him here.
dokudoku: (22)

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ah, there's that satisfying reaction. It's small, barely there for most people, but for Yugamu's trained eye, it just widens the grin on his face. A little more teeth, although it feels less like a mask than it might have back in the early days.

The tension leaking from Fandaniel's shoulders is the go-ahead he gets to make his leisurely way across the room, partly to admire the other man's handiwork, partly just to see it up close. He really has never lost his less than savory tastes, even as the years have gone by. ]


True, but that's what's charming about you. [ And he means it, of course. ] You wouldn't be as much fun if you didn't have that tongue.

[ No, not a bad one at all. He lifts a hand to his chin, faux contemplative. ]

I think it would...but shamefully, I might get a bit jealous if you went around cheating on me with other scars before I got a chance to give you your old one back.
dokudoku: (pic#17847746)

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 07:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ What a normal, childish noise. It scrapes at his eardrums, along with that title. It doesn't fit coming out of that mouth, directed at him. ]

Maybe I am getting a little rusty, if that's what you think.

[ He's not wrong, in that sense; it's natural instinct to weave a white lie here and there. Never the full truth, with a few deflections. It helps, in some ways.

But he doubts that will work here now, staring into those brassy eyes. To see something so lifeless on the living feels unnatural in a way he knows he can place, even if he'd rather not. ]


It's been a few years for me, you know. I'd like to think I'm at least a little more mature than I was. [ There's a faint thinning of his lips, gaze narrowing faintly. ] ...Didn't I say I'd rather not forgive you if you forgot?
dokudoku: (31)

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 08:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's something morbidly disconcerting in the way he simply just...hovers, like a ghost. Even as he drifts closer, Yugamu's gaze is still locked onto him. It's just the faintest twinge in the back of his mind, old instincts of a threat.

He'd rather not think him a threat, if he can help it. But naivety won't get him anywhere here.

Especially after that. ]


'Lots' of kids? [ That...he doesn't like that. ] And what do you mean 'you's? I'm certain I've done it before, but last I recalled, that was consensual.

[ He feels he knows, but he doesn't really want to hear the answer. He's going to dig for it anyway. ]
dokudoku: (pic#17993600)

hundred line spoilers //

[personal profile] dokudoku 2025-09-15 08:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ Yugamu likes to think he's gotten better. His impulse control and urges, and everything in between. It had been fine sparing the details of the goings on here, giving them enough hope to latch onto when they left for somewhere else. He was best suited for this type of thing, after all.

That's why Yugamu's fingers clench tight in the stone he's sitting on, nails digging dangerously to the point they threaten to crack beneath soft white gloves. It should have just been him— not them.

( He thinks about piercing Moko and Nozomi's ears in the bathroom of their apartment as a sort of remembrance, for being the only Second members remaining. He thinks about them having a night every week or other week where they have dinner together, where Gaku puts Kurara's curry on the table amidst his whining about shifts and ungratefulness. He thinks about movie night at Tsubasa's, where Shouma jumps at every jumpscare and Takemaru pretends he doesn't. He thinks about— )

Nothing will come of taking it out on someone left behind. ( It isn't Solomon's fault ), but it is Solomon's fault.

Part of it is also Yugamu's fault. He hadn't been quick enough, fast enough, thorough enough. And now... ]


...Do you? [ If he focuses on the others, it'll distract him. No, that can wait. ] And what kinds of me have you seen?
ohrlyeh: (Default)

the pool...

[personal profile] ohrlyeh 2025-09-15 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[Here again. Bound again. This time, he accepted because he wanted to. This irritable mage. A fool. A man who thought he could bear the weight of it all on his own.]

[Again, the weight of playing human is unbearable. He trudges along through the familiar corridors, shies away from the shadows. He finds a place that he once loved - the pool. Serene. Lovely. A shadow of the ocean, but...]

[What....is this feeling?]

[His skin feels like its boiling. Even as he moves, his bones - or what little he has made in semblance of them - are cracking. He's trying to fight the fear physically - stubborn to the extremes.]

[He aims a dour glance at the walls around him.]


Even your fears are leaking into such things. Solomon. How pathetic.
ohrlyeh: (in the vault)

[personal profile] ohrlyeh 2025-09-15 02:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Urgh...

[It's an effort just to pull out his phone. He aims a glance at the sheep, before texting.]

I like the water. Unlike you.

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