Let's stick close... Or better yet, hold hands to not get lost.
[ You are all wrangled to hold hands in a single file line, little ducklings.
... So as they wander around, they don't notice anything dangerous at first. It's empty, dark, and the furniture is quite nice despite being old and covered in dust. The candle lights you all receive illuminate with its natural glow, but you can use your I.R.I.S. if that's more comfortable. Amalthea hums, filling in the eerie silence of this place.
There's no white noise. No anything, like they're stuck in a space in between. It's hard to know if there's anything outside this manor. Looking around, there are doors that can click open but Amalthea doesn't open them wide, then doors that are just locked shut. ]
... It seems that there are four doors we may enter and my guess is that once we experience all four doors will this storm release. [ She offers them a smile... It isn't quite reassuring, it lacks warmth, and there's something eerie to it much like this manor. ] Are we ready to open the first together?
[hold hands! Rosamund will have elected to hold one of Amalthea's at the front of the line, because she is already forewarned about their frigidity.]
Same here!
[She shoots a smile and a wink to both Nodd and Yuri. Maybe this will go pear-shaped before long, but she's very pleased with the choice in company. Small blessings!]
[ every other mission, people come back with weird(er) hair and less limbs. he hangs on the end, holding yuri's hand and a now lit candelabra. sucks to have his darkvision still turned off. boooo.
... is rosie winking bc she's gonna go for the npc? damn. so brave. ]
[ Since they're ready, Amalthea opens the door... She looks into it and so do they. They get pulled in, not physically, but spiritually and they become bystanders of this story.
It's a story about a girl running through the forest, persecuted for her white hair and red eyes for being a witch... She finds an abandoned manor, believing it will shelter her from the rain, from persecution, only to find another lives there. It's a man who shares her likeness in complexion and color. He himself was abandoned by his family for holding a witch's curse—all who touch him die. Tragic.
They barely interact, both awkward as they are, but it's a beautiful tale where two othered souls find comfort in each other. Their companionship blossom like the roses in the garden which was once empty and derelict. Together, they cultivate these flowers and much like their lives this garden's darkness dissipates. They teach each other what it means to be human again, what they have always been. ]
Ah, I see... This is my master's story, the white-haired girl, and how she met the man she loved.
[ The man carefully places a rose behind the girl's ear and she smiles at them. Somehow, separated from the rest of the world, they were able to find happiness yet they longed the touch of one of another. They wanted to hold hands... They wanted to share a kiss.
A curse keeps them apart. ]
This is tragic, isn't it? [ ... Amalthea looks to them. ] What should we do to change it?
[Rosamund looks to Amalthea now, unsure. She'd said this place might reflect their thoughts back at them, but this is a bit more direct than she expected. And frankly, hitting too close to home.]
Find whoever put the curse on them. Make them change it.
A kiss would kill her, Mister Nodd. The curse is at the touch of his fingertips. All he touches... End.
[ A tragedy, honestly. ]
These are good answers. Let's see...
[ ... You remove the curse... And you remove the witch that cursed the man. In this story you changed, they can embrace now. In a warm embrace, the girl sheds tear of happiness and so does the man. ]
... My master may not know it, but in this story you have given her happiness. [ It really is literal, isn't it? Amalthea is back to watching this story, incredibly immersed in it. Of course she would be, she has vested interest—she's connected to it. ] You have saved them once.
[ Days pass as they watch the story of the white-haired pair. They watch them eat together, the man mentioning he doesn't like parsnips and the girl saying he should eat them... They watch a scene where he's surprised to know she reads. Women are often not taught to in this time period, but this means they can read the many books lining the shelves of a dark library in the manor.
... This manor they live in, it's familiar isn't it? Not too unlike the place you all are in now.
But the story continues—happiness is only a moment. Knights who wave the banner of God over their heads appear. They start ramming the door while the pair climb the stairs of a connected tower. This is where the man locks the girl in the room with a metal door and tells her she has to live.
He doesn't survive, skewered and bloodied. The girl, left crying, is met by a witch—who looks exactly like Amalthea. Here, they create a pact. As her guide, she promises her new Master company with every reincarnation. She won't be alone. ]
I wonder how we should change this?
[ But as the three of them consider this story, the image of the white-haired girl in their minds distort. Instead, who they remember in her place is a woman with black hair and green eyes, very similar to Amalthea. No matter how hard they try to remember the white-haired girl, they remember this woman instead.
As if this is her story, not the white-haired girl's. Amalthea doesn't react. ]
[ Yuri frowns. There's some sort of mental interference that she doesn't like, but she certainly remembers someone similar to Amalthea to replace the white haired girl.
But she also didn't expect it to be changed based on their suggestion, so-- ]
[Her jaw's locked tight. There's something wrong with the memories here. A doubling up. The girl just doesn't feel right any longer, and the story took a terrible turn after their change.
But would the knights have come if they hadn't been able to touch? Did one shift beget the other? And what's with the Amalthea of this story? Is she a witch in truth, or is this just reflections from their own minds, distorting everything?]
Make it so that no one is afraid of them. They've done nothing wrong, they just look a little different.
[ The knights never come, no one fears the man any longer... And the woman with black hair doesn't make the pact with the witch. She doesn't accept the witch's offer to guarantee she meets her beloved in every lifetime. She doesn't suffer thousands of years waiting for him.
She doesn't forget him—her memory doesn't deteriorate where she mistakes him for a girl with white hair and red eyes.
The woman with black hair and the man with white live happily ever after, sailing somewhere far away. Adventure calls for them.
... Amalthea smiles. ]
What a beautiful ending... The white-haired girl would be so grateful to you three.
[ She doesn't see. It's like she's actively rejecting what's in front of them. The memories of this woman with black hair like Amalthea's, green eyes like Amalthea's, are so clear they are undeniable and yet she doesn't see it.
The darkness surrounding them becomes darker, deeper. The void is taking them in. It tries to swallow these memories and throw them away. It tries to paint them over. This denial... It's going to swallow them whole. ]
[ it's something nodd has accepted. memshare week has been/will be an exercise in continued acceptance. he sees this false joy writhing, decaying. everybody loves a happy ending, but nobody wants it faked. ]
Where's the white-haired girl, Amalthea? What's her real name?
[ all this hand holding--don't make him drop his candle. ]
... What's wrong? [ To Nodd: ] My master's name is Michelle.
[ She doesn't see it yet she grasps Rosamund's hand tightly in concern. But then her own appearance changes in short cuts, small blips... It's that woman with black hair, green eyes. They are the same. ]
... What are you all talking about? My name—is Morgana.
[ But no. Morgana is the witch's name. Michelle sounds very similar to the name of the man, Michel. You three who have seen this story come to realize that.
And her name.... Her name is none of those.
With rejection, with denial, despite how there's recognition and epiphany found in her eyes, the dark swallows them up before they can do more. It's like this manor speaks to her emotions—she doesn't want to see it. She doesn't want to face it. Not now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
DOOR 1
[ You are all wrangled to hold hands in a single file line, little ducklings.
... So as they wander around, they don't notice anything dangerous at first. It's empty, dark, and the furniture is quite nice despite being old and covered in dust. The candle lights you all receive illuminate with its natural glow, but you can use your I.R.I.S. if that's more comfortable. Amalthea hums, filling in the eerie silence of this place.
There's no white noise. No anything, like they're stuck in a space in between. It's hard to know if there's anything outside this manor. Looking around, there are doors that can click open but Amalthea doesn't open them wide, then doors that are just locked shut. ]
... It seems that there are four doors we may enter and my guess is that once we experience all four doors will this storm release. [ She offers them a smile... It isn't quite reassuring, it lacks warmth, and there's something eerie to it much like this manor. ] Are we ready to open the first together?
no subject
I'm ready.
[ She is holding hands. Enjoy the warmth. ]
no subject
Same here!
[She shoots a smile and a wink to both Nodd and Yuri. Maybe this will go pear-shaped before long, but she's very pleased with the choice in company. Small blessings!]
no subject
... is rosie winking bc she's gonna go for the npc? damn. so brave. ]
Ready.
no subject
We may have this song for background music.
It's a story about a girl running through the forest, persecuted for her white hair and red eyes for being a witch... She finds an abandoned manor, believing it will shelter her from the rain, from persecution, only to find another lives there. It's a man who shares her likeness in complexion and color. He himself was abandoned by his family for holding a witch's curse—all who touch him die. Tragic.
They barely interact, both awkward as they are, but it's a beautiful tale where two othered souls find comfort in each other. Their companionship blossom like the roses in the garden which was once empty and derelict. Together, they cultivate these flowers and much like their lives this garden's darkness dissipates. They teach each other what it means to be human again, what they have always been. ]
Ah, I see... This is my master's story, the white-haired girl, and how she met the man she loved.
[ The man carefully places a rose behind the girl's ear and she smiles at them. Somehow, separated from the rest of the world, they were able to find happiness yet they longed the touch of one of another. They wanted to hold hands... They wanted to share a kiss.
A curse keeps them apart. ]
This is tragic, isn't it? [ ... Amalthea looks to them. ] What should we do to change it?
no subject
Get rid of the curse.
[ She says firmly. ]
no subject
Find whoever put the curse on them. Make them change it.
no subject
he listens to each of his companions respond. considers. ]
Don't kisses usually work?
no subject
[ A tragedy, honestly. ]
These are good answers. Let's see...
[ ... You remove the curse... And you remove the witch that cursed the man. In this story you changed, they can embrace now. In a warm embrace, the girl sheds tear of happiness and so does the man. ]
... My master may not know it, but in this story you have given her happiness. [ It really is literal, isn't it? Amalthea is back to watching this story, incredibly immersed in it. Of course she would be, she has vested interest—she's connected to it. ] You have saved them once.
[ Days pass as they watch the story of the white-haired pair. They watch them eat together, the man mentioning he doesn't like parsnips and the girl saying he should eat them... They watch a scene where he's surprised to know she reads. Women are often not taught to in this time period, but this means they can read the many books lining the shelves of a dark library in the manor.
... This manor they live in, it's familiar isn't it? Not too unlike the place you all are in now.
But the story continues—happiness is only a moment. Knights who wave the banner of God over their heads appear. They start ramming the door while the pair climb the stairs of a connected tower. This is where the man locks the girl in the room with a metal door and tells her she has to live.
He doesn't survive, skewered and bloodied. The girl, left crying, is met by a witch—who looks exactly like Amalthea. Here, they create a pact. As her guide, she promises her new Master company with every reincarnation. She won't be alone. ]
I wonder how we should change this?
[ But as the three of them consider this story, the image of the white-haired girl in their minds distort. Instead, who they remember in her place is a woman with black hair and green eyes, very similar to Amalthea. No matter how hard they try to remember the white-haired girl, they remember this woman instead.
As if this is her story, not the white-haired girl's. Amalthea doesn't react. ]
no subject
But she also didn't expect it to be changed based on their suggestion, so-- ]
The knights never come.
no subject
But would the knights have come if they hadn't been able to touch? Did one shift beget the other? And what's with the Amalthea of this story? Is she a witch in truth, or is this just reflections from their own minds, distorting everything?]
Make it so that no one is afraid of them. They've done nothing wrong, they just look a little different.
no subject
What it is it about gods and witches?
[ he doesn't let the questions hang there for long. ]
Right. Forget the tower. They could have sailed away somewhere better, instead.
no subject
She doesn't forget him—her memory doesn't deteriorate where she mistakes him for a girl with white hair and red eyes.
The woman with black hair and the man with white live happily ever after, sailing somewhere far away. Adventure calls for them.
... Amalthea smiles. ]
What a beautiful ending... The white-haired girl would be so grateful to you three.
[ She doesn't see. It's like she's actively rejecting what's in front of them. The memories of this woman with black hair like Amalthea's, green eyes like Amalthea's, are so clear they are undeniable and yet she doesn't see it.
The darkness surrounding them becomes darker, deeper. The void is taking them in. It tries to swallow these memories and throw them away. It tries to paint them over. This denial... It's going to swallow them whole. ]
no subject
She holds onto Rosamund and Nodd's hands very tightly. She would prepare her gun, but she doesn't have more than two hands. Alas. ]
Amalthea, what's...
no subject
Is it rejecting all this? Because it isn't true?
no subject
[ it's something nodd has accepted. memshare week has been/will be an exercise in continued acceptance. he sees this false joy writhing, decaying. everybody loves a happy ending, but nobody wants it faked. ]
Where's the white-haired girl, Amalthea? What's her real name?
[ all this hand holding--don't make him drop his candle. ]
no subject
... What's wrong? [ To Nodd: ] My master's name is Michelle.
[ She doesn't see it yet she grasps Rosamund's hand tightly in concern. But then her own appearance changes in short cuts, small blips... It's that woman with black hair, green eyes. They are the same. ]
I have to lock it away. I can't... I can't.
[ They're whispers she can't herself hear. ]
no subject
When she doesn't see Amalthea react to that, she looks over at Nodd and Rosamund. You guys seeing this shit?? ]
no subject
Almathea — I don't think you're remembering this correctly. I think that girl was you. Right?
[She looks to the others.]
no subject
[ he gently disentangles his hand. he wants to approach their dear senior officer. ]
no subject
... What are you all talking about? My name—is Morgana.
[ But no. Morgana is the witch's name. Michelle sounds very similar to the name of the man, Michel. You three who have seen this story come to realize that.
And her name.... Her name is none of those.
With rejection, with denial, despite how there's recognition and epiphany found in her eyes, the dark swallows them up before they can do more. It's like this manor speaks to her emotions—she doesn't want to see it. She doesn't want to face it. Not now.
They're taken elsewhere in the manor, in front of a new door. ]