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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.]
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.]
no subject
You think so?
What we care about doesn't matter to Father. He's never gonna be happy. Never ever. He's gonna keep you all here as long as he can.
[A single strand of wool is twisted beneath small fingers. Slowly pulled taut.]
I can find a different way, though. So long as the rest of you don't give up.
no subject
[He's dubious.]
Forever and ever and ever...? Are you running yourself ragged? Solomon.
Cw: animal abuse
[His words are light as he pulls the wool tight into his wrist. The sheep doesn't respond. But the bud of a rose starts to unfurl from the spot of the violence, under a small pooling of blood at the roots.
The rose is black.]
I have forever. You guys don't. Not here. And I don't want Father to get another Extra with your name. He has too many now.
[His smile is too cheery as he plucks the newly blackened rose from Ibuki and sticks it behind his own ear.]
So we're gonna make it work this time! I'm gonna be free. And so are you. As many as I can. So long as you get to go home and be yourself again, you don't mind, do you?
no subject
[Lovecraft moves closer, squatting down - he then holds out a pale, spindly hand, as if asking for the rose.]
You say good words. Are they just words?
no subject
You don't trust me?
I'm not Sika, you know. Everyone knows. Father does, too. [There's something that settles strange in his smile at that.] But it's okay if you treat us the same! A Witch is a scary thing that breaks the rules. That part isn't any different.
no subject
[A tilt of his head, his face expressionless. His hand is still held out.]
You're not Sika, no. So who are you? And who...do you...want to be?
no subject
You learned. You did.
[There's a tension in his brow at the recollection, looking again at the outstretched hand. Considering.
The sheep under his arms stirs, and sits itself up. The boy allows it pliantly.]
I'm Solomon. The Wise and Powerful. The Witty Sorcerer, Keeper of Knowledge.
[It's recited childishly.]
And all I want is to be free.
Don't you, Lovecraft?
no subject
[In reference to what, he doesn't say.]
I always want to be free. [A hum at the back of his throat, considering.] Could you...give me the rose?
no subject
The boy's brow furrows deeper. The sheep watches Lovecraft with intent now.
Something sharp crosses brassy eyes at the question. An expression not fit for a child.]
If I do, would you help me?
no subject
Help you with...what?
no subject
[His smile widens. The sheep stares, just a moment longer, before dropping its head back down to the tile with a wet plop.]
The Key needs suffering. But it doesn't gotta be from just one person.
You can take part of the burden. [He giggles lightly.] It just comes with a price.
no subject
[He looks....droopy at that.]
Eh.... [A SIGH....] You are bad at this Witch thing....Solomon. Sika was more tempting. You contradict yourself.
no subject
If you don't wanna help like that, you don't have to. [His head cocks again as the rose is pulled from his ear and held out.] And I don't have to ask you anymore, if you don't want me to.
no subject
[Is it that simple? He doesn't think so.]
[His hand reaches out-
but moves past the rose, to grasp onto his wrist with cold, and clammy fingers. Like a drowned man's hand.]
Do you truly want "help"? Or simply..."company"?
no subject
His skin is just as cold to the touch.]
Company...?
[...
An exhale. Another giggle, slightly off.]
You're thinking really hard, Lovecraft. Maybe too hard?
I can't be free on my own, and you can't be free on your own, either. Even if you don't believe me, I can still want both.
no subject
So how does taking on...your suffering....free you? Exactly. You hide behind...vagueness. You won't...win me by. That.
no subject
[He twists his thin little wrist in Lovecraft's grip, thinking.]
Do you remember how Sika found their Keys? With me, and with some of the others? They picked only a handful, and poured lots of despair into only us.
Sika waited a long time. Piled it all on at the end. I want to let it build. Give lots of people time to support each other through the pain, so it won't hurt as much. Sharing with the whole Troupe means there's more ways for it to grow without any one person drowning in it.
But I can't share the suffering if people don't believe me. No suffering means no Key. And no Key means nobody leaves.
So I gotta start somewhere. With people that remember me. Like you.
no subject
And what if we don't suffer if you ask us to? Are you...dead in the water? Solomon.
[A very noted turn of phrase.]
no subject
Can't die. Heh. I'm no good to Father if I die.
...
If you agreed to it, I would help you. I have my own rules, just for you. But if there still wasn't enough, even with me, then it means no one gets to leave.
Not unless they win Father's test. And even if you win Father's test and get his Beatitudes, it only counts for you.
The dead people still stay here. The people who forget too much do, too, or the people that refuse to leave.
I have to stay, too, for the next Troupe. 'Cause there always has to be a Witch.
no subject
[A lot he doesn't understand. So he will start with his first question.]
And what if you decided to stop...being a Witch? Let someone else take it.
no subject
[It's rather abrupt, enough that even the boy himself seems surprised at the words that leave his mouth.
The sheep once again sits at attention as Solomon seemingly collects his words.
...]
That's the way Sika chose. And Father's already really angry about that, so I don't think he'll allow it to happen again.
But I know there's gotta be another way.
no subject
[As if suggesting something to eat for lunch.]
Truly He is the source of the...problem. Yes?
no subject
Mmhmm. He's part of it. But it'd take lots and lots of power to do something like that. I don't know if even the biggest Troupe could make that much power.