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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
It sounds like lots of stuff has changed, though.
Maybe sometimes it's better to forget?
no subject
[ And how could he forget, really, everything that happened here? The emotions, the tragedy, the tension.
The feeling of Solomon's blood seeping through his fingers, metal in flesh on a chapel floor. ]
And maybe it is, for some people. But I've already decided to carry my burdens with me, and it's a little late to shuck off them just to feel better about myself.
no subject
But it's okay if you forget. Everybody's gotta someday, whether it's gonna make you feel better or not.
[A pause.]
Do you wanna be alone, Senpai?
no subject
[ 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.
1/2
You asked for it, though.
[The phone falls silent. The sheep sits, unbothered, also silent.]
2/2
A boy floats far above him, completely upside down, a rose in bandaged fingers as he plucks the thorns off one by one. He doesn't look any older than eight. He's completely barefoot, his clothing worn and threadbare, and his neck and both hands are bandaged roughly, with a galaxy of pinprick scars against his exposed skin, like a sea of freckles.]
You still gotta weapon on you? [His eyes don't leave the rose.
Another thorn is pricked off, falling to smack Yugamu in the face.]
cw
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.
no subject
You're not always super good at tellin' the truth, Senpai. But it's kinda easier when you're here and you're older.
[His head tilts down, his bangs hanging freely in the air like a curtain, eyes just as brassy as the day they parted.]
I'm guessin' you're older, anyway. Kinda hard to remember. But you hold yourself all different.
no subject
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?
no subject
[He nods to himself, seemingly oblivious to Yugamu's suspicion as he rotates in midair, letting himself drift a little further down as though he's a feather, idly plucking all the while. His fingertips are growing red from the effort.]
It's not like I ever forgot that part. But I see a lot of the kids from the Academy, so it gets hard sometimes to tell all of the different "yous" apart. And I don't like it when you try to stab me.
no subject
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. ]
Spoiler warning: hundred line
Shoma's always scared, Tsubasa always throws up, Gaku never shuts up and Kurara always blows something up, so I think Father gave up on all of them a long time ago.
...Hiruko's smart. Eito is misunderstood. Nozomi always has trouble making it to the end. And Takumi's always different, and sometimes Takumi isn't really himself, but I guess he isn't here this time no matter who he is.
[He twirls the rose idly between his thumb and forefinger.]
I've seen all of 'em. All sorts. Some that remember being alive or dead. Some that got to grow up and be adults, some that are still kids.
You, too. I've seen a lot of you. [He cocks his head with a grin that doesn't meet his eyes.] I always like seeing you. No matter what you it is.
hundred line spoilers //
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?
hundred line spoilers //
Even if the differences are a lot... at the same time, they're not. Like millions of tiny reflections that always are you.
[He sighs as his feet skirt the ground, stumbling lightly to a walk. He's a very fragile child, from how he holds himself. Weak, malnourished.]
Only one sort of you ever remembers, though. Remembers from before.