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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
Hiding away, or more like forced to hide away, not unlike Sika Madu. Strange that he lacked a more direct route. Was that, too, a punishment? A change that Father forced upon his new witch?
Regardless, the divot is found, and he fishes the little star out to press into the slot. ]
no subject
The water comes with in a flood. You flounder. You choke. The pressure increases around your body as the light above you fades rapidly.
But just as despair starts to tint your thoughts and your vision clouds with stars, your feet settle and your breath returns. It's a portion of the sea floor, with the elevators of the Backstage set a short distance away. A deep blue expanse stretches in every direction. Looking up will show the faintest hints of lighter color, though whether it's still light or not is hard to tell. You can bring yourself right to the edge to stare down into where the chasm continues to drop further, where blue rapidly turns to black, but an invisible barrier seems to stop you.
There is no sea life. The rock is dusted with coral that has long since died. There is only the blue, and the twisting shapes in the water of plants that don't belong.
Roses.
The boy sits at the edge of the cliff, hair floating in the water and bubbles fluttering out of his nose as he breathes, a blue rose in hand. He picks thorns away from the stem with reddened fingers.
There is no sign of the sheep.]
Wow. You really weren't joking. [He doesn't look up from his task.]
You must really wanna talk to me, huh, Amon?
no subject
Even like this, Solomon finds ways to annoy him... ]
Why wouldn't I, Solomon? You are the only reason I return to this wretched place.
no subject
[The cadence is slightly different. Still the voice of the boy, but the tone and word choice is sharper. More familiar.]
I did kill you, you know. Are you mad I didn't do a good enough job?
no subject
Oh, you did a fine job. I do applaud you for it, even if it didn't stick, but you see, because you did this for me, you were trapped here.
[ He straightens up again and offers Solomon a shrug. ]
Thus, I feel obligated to see if I can't drag you out of here all the same. Do not mistake this for an emotional connection; it is merely one sorcerer owing a debt to another.
Cw: suicidal ideation
The boy listens silently, turning dull eyes to Amon as he explains
before bursting into laughter.]
Oh, Amon. Surely you don't feel guilty?
I wanted my wish, and you wanted to be dead. Whatever agreement we had ended there.
The people sent me to my fate when they decided your desire didn't deserve to be kept no matter the excuse. They deemed me the Witch and stole my wish from me. Not you.
cw: suicidal ideation con't.
[ Does it? No. Surely not. He's just annoyed that Solomon being stuck here was a snag in what would have been a perfect escape. That has to be it. He strolls over to the child, joining him at the edge of the cliff. ]
No one was ever getting a wish out of this place, Solomon. We agreed to that deal because it made it simple to decide who the final death would be, not because you wanted anything out of it.
[ Fandaniel was expendable in the end, a man wanting to die, needing to die, even in the face of the people who tried to convince him otherwise. ]
Have you really not regained a lick of your senses after all this time?
cw: suicidal ideation con't.
[He snorts a little, continuing to pick thorns from the stem. Now that Amon is seated, he can watch the boy toss the thorns one by one into the blackened pit of the chasm below.
Staring too long into the black, you'd think the space might very well be breathing for how it seems to twist.]
It's in Father's Edicts. Escape with a kill and he will acknowledge you with his Beatitudes. And He is very, very thorough about his Edicts, Amon. Very thorough.
[He hums, adjusting the petals just slightly, leaving red fingerprinted smudges behind.]
But I guess what we remember as failures or victories doesn't change where we are, does it? You're here again. So am I.
And you probably don't want to die again, or you'd be trying harder.
no subject
[ If only. ]
Maybe you would actually say something sensible then. Tell me, Solomon, how many of your little Troupes have actually gotten away with a Beatitude from Father?
no subject
[There's a strain to his smile as he admits as much.]
You could try to attack me, if it'd make you feel better. But this body isn't really me, you know.
[He tosses the rose over the side, quiet as he watches it float down. The rose slowly spackles with black, quickly swallowed by the dark.]
Father doesn't want me to see the light, no matter where I end up.
no subject
Then I suppose I will just have to get to your real body and do it.
no subject
[Light, as though not expecting a true answer.]
Would you try to kill me, like we tried to kill Sika? Father hasn't forgotten about that, you know.
no subject
[ Does he share them? Of course not. Solomon should be considered as much of a threat as Sika Madu had been, no matter what kind of aid he suspiciously offers. Funny enough, that Fandaniel would return here at all, but would he really fall for the same nonsense a second time?
Well...
It would depend, but share what's on his mind? No. ]
What of you? You can't want to remain here. You must have some scheme or another in the works. You already mentioned wanted as many of us alive as possible.
Cw:plant gore
[He lifts his hand to his neck to let another rose grow freely from the inky skin underneath, the thorns ripping up through flesh with ease as red starts to trail upwards through the blue of the water, disappating. Unlike the previous time, the boy can't hide the pain that drifts across his face, visibly bracing himself through it before covering the skin back up and proceeding to pluck the thorns again, as before. One by one, into the abyss.]
Anyway... that's right. I want my freedom. I'm a prisoner just like the Troupe.
The more of the Troupe that can be kept from becoming Extras, the more room we have to make a Key. We can't leave without it.
I have to get started right away, though. A Key needs suffering. And you'll all start forgetting soon. The more you forget, the less I can do, and the more He'll take hold instead.