deercountry | (open) — have you seen a little girl?

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(open) — have you seen a little girl?

^{Who: Rose Da Silva / horrormom + you!
What: Catchall — includes general & event prompts.
When: Throughout the month of November.
Where: Various places around Trench, The Tower, etc.

Content Warnings: distressed mothers / themes of missing children / religious themes & imagery / fanatical cultists (from Rose's canon as well as Trench) / event-related warnings in later prompts (sleeper farm, imprisonment, bodies, etc.) / blood}

MOM ON A MISSION

( Rose Da Silva is somewhere strange and frightening — alien in ways, like some place frozen in a time that's not hers — and her little girl isn't beside her anymore.

Rose has lived this before. And like last time, there's only one single purpose driving her: to find her daughter. The difference is that this time, there are seemingly no clues to follow, no little puzzle pieces left behind. Something within Silent Hill had called to her, guided her through its monsters and nightmares, showed her where to go. Here (wherever here even is; she's heard the name Trench but Rose thinks it must be some extension of that otherworldly place, of Silent Hill) she's all on her own. And so she keeps looking.

Through November, it's what she does: wandering the streets and shops of this place, seeking out information, searching. Like last time, she won't stop. )

^{ooc ➤ Throughout the month, Rose can be stumbled upon just about anywhere throughout Trench. Feel free to wildcard your character encountering her roaming around your district, near your home or business, etc. I've listed some specific scenarios below, but I'm 100% flexible. The titles of each section below link back to the game info about them, for easy reference!}

i. WILLFUL MACHINE
( Rose soon enough finds her way to a hub of activity, stunned by how lively it is in comparison to Silent Hill. No townspeople scrounging through the dust of abandoned buildings for scraps of food, no deadly-quiet spaces in which time seems to hang heavy and tense, before those sirens wail to unleash a nightmare.

It almost seems... like a normal place, here in Willful Machine. The smell of fresh things cooking, the bustle of civilians buying and selling from various stalls and shops. And yet, with that comes a new type of dread in Rose: this place is huge and there are many more people here. It would be much easier for a tiny little girl to stay lost.

Well, she certainly isn't shy about asking questions. You might see her — a well-kept woman in a long tan overcoat and knee-high boots, approaching various stall owners, asking to speak to whomever's in charge. No one really seems able to give her a straight answer on that, but she's not giving up; of course she isn't. Rose keeps looking around, keeps asking. Maybe she winds up at your business, or approaches you on the street as you're browsing. Her questions generally cycle between:

'Excuse me, can you tell me who's in charge around here?'
'Sorry to bother you, but have you seen a little girl? Long, black hair? She's only nine.'
'Hey, do you know where I can get a charger for this? Like an electronics place, or a pharmacy or something?', in which case she'll be holding up the cell phone that's hanging from her neck by a strap. ...This was a Prime Mom Cell Phone in 2006, okay. )

ii. DARCMOUTH
( This place feels more familiar. With its dreary haze, the fog that seems to be a permanent fixture. Like a dream — just on the cusp of becoming a nightmare. Rose makes her way through Trench's fishing district wide-eyed and alert, a perpetual chill down her spine as though in anticipation of some monstrous thing to come crawling out of the fog her way. No monsters come and no siren sounds, but she can't relax, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat, shoulders hunched upwards against the November chill, even more nippy out here by the sea. It bites her cheeks and nose, leaving them flushed red.

She wanders the docks, listening to the deep creak and groan of boats slowly moving up and down in the water, trying to ignore the heavy stench of fish and brine. On occasion she has to tuck her nose into the crook of her elbow, swallowing down a gag. If, for some reason, you are also at the gloomy district, you might see the woman who looks severely out of place yet purposeful — searching nooks and crannies, stepping lightly over a mound of fish entrails to peer into the frosted-over windows of a rundown old warehouse, its entrance locked. She's dragging her nails against a window, and then crouching to find a dusty brick, which she starts hitting the window with — though its glass is extremely thick and doesn't immediately bust. Rose doesn't stop, however, because she is absolutely determined to break in and doesn't seem to have any real concern for who might hear her doing so.

Or maybe you hear her doing something else — shouting, running — after someone, the glint of something large and shiny held in their hand (a locket with the Virgin Mary on the front). Maybe you can help stop the thief from taking off with what is clearly very precious to the woman. Rose is pretty fast, but the person who stole her locket knows the ins and outs of this place, taking turns through alleys, around trade stalls, and she has no way of stopping them. No weapon, no powers; all she can do is run.

Eventually, Rose also finds her way to the shoreline, the place she remembers coming up from. Something here... feels different, somehow; it's some awareness she can't quite explain. As though within her spirit something is stroked so gently that it's barely a touch at all, and something inside of her shudders gently in response. She won't turn away from it, no. Rose slowly makes her way down that soft black sand, eyes narrowed and teary against the sharp sea breeze. By now, she's... tired, and she aches in a way she's beginning to grow used to aching.

She doesn't know how long she walks, but at some point she comes across something lying there where ocean meets shore, waves lapping up against where it's wedged into the sand. The woman slows almost to a halt, feeling as though the breath has been knocked out of her. Then she's approaching the item she already knows she recognises, crouching to gently lift it up out of the sand.

Rose gasps, falling down onto the sand, legs tangled beneath her as something racks through her very frame; it's a reaction that physically hurts. She presses the item to her chest (it's soaked through, cold and limp against her), and wails loudly out to the ocean — a name, Sharon.

If you get close enough to see, you'll realise that what she's holding is a brown teddy bear. )

iii. CRENSHAW
( When she hears about an orphanage in this city, Rose immediately finds her way to it through word of mouth, some desperate hope still remaining in her. It's all she has, that desperation, that hope: the two mingled together into an almost tangible presence up under her sternum.

Her daughter isn't there. She looks for her amongst every single lost child currently inhabiting the orphanage — calling for Sharon and then Alessa — but her little girl isn't there.

She might show up there, though. God, she might. Maybe if someone finds her and brings her somewhere safe... And though Rose can't possibly keep watch every day, she does end up visiting the orphanage very often, perched on the cold stone steps outside of it, the bag that washed ashore with her tucked close to her feet. On her lap, she holds a couple of drawings, and she keeps looking over them — one a cheerful, child's depiction of sunflowers, the other a... much more horrific sight. The woman's frowning deeply as she examines them, brushing the pad of her thumb gently over the crayon art, seeming to be searching for something within. Some hidden clue that maybe she missed.

Beside her, a white dove sits, docile and calm, occasionally fluttering her wings and giving soft sounds as she keeps a look out. )

THE SLEEPER FARM ➤CW: EVENT WARNINGS APPLY; SPECIFICS WILL BE IN SUBJECT HEADERS

( She sees what they do — how they take people, and though Rose doesn't know where that may be or why, she knows she has to follow.

She's trembling to her core as she quickly trails the horrible thing that was maybe once a person into the black hole it creates, but she's faced horrible things before, and she will never back down from facing them again. Not if there's a possibility that her daughter is threatened.

She never sees the attack coming, but it must have caught her in the act. She wouldn't have tried to evade it anyway, wouldn't have tried to escape. She has to end up wherever this thing is taking people; there is no other option for her. And so Rose is knocked out in an instant, a willing captive. )

i. THE STALLS

( When Rose comes to again, it takes her a few long moments to try and pull herself from her thick, stunned haze. She keeps her eyes closed, though her other senses begin to pick up on the things around her, and she knows that she's been taken to a nightmare.

The sounds of machinery whir and thud and grind somewhere not far away; the potent (familiar) smells of oil and must and what she recognises as blood greet her as though she'd never left. Rose slowly peels her eyes open and stares at the room she's currently in — not so much a room at all, but a sort of stall, like what an animal would be contained in. Her heart skips a beat so hard that she gives a shaky, pained sound.

The Darkness, she immediately thinks. What those in Silent Hill had run from, hidden from in their Church, tried to keep at bay with their beliefs. Their faith..... their ugly, twisted, monstrous faith. Their fear, their cruelty. She'd helped destroy them and their Church, watched Alessa rip them apart as they screamed.

But it isn't over, she thinks. Those deformed creatures that take people here... they could be connected to The Brethren, maybe working for them. Some of those cultist people could have survived the massacre back in Silent Hill. They could have taken her Sharon again.

It's then that Rose realises she's not alone in the stall. There's someone else — and she calls out to you, her wrists bound together behind her back, shackled. Fuck, if that's not familiar, too. )

Hey! Hey, you awake?

ii. STORAGE

( Or maybe you encounter her after you've escaped from your holding pen and are making your way through the industrial, bleeding labyrinth. By then, Rose has gotten out of her own shackles and grabbed a large wrench she found lying around, holding it to her chest. There's some blood smeared across her jumpsuit and staining the soft blonde of her hair, smudged against a cheek; it's not her own blood, but she's been exploring and brushed across a hanging body or two (or three or four, it's endless, the mutilated bodies in this horrible place are endless.)

If you've had the misfortune of being hung up and are clearly alive, Rose will rush over to you; she'll help you, won't leave you behind. Or maybe you're safely on the ground and happen across the woman exploring one of the countless rooms. Quiet and barefoot, tracking blood-stained footprints across the cold ground, Rose doesn't seem to be searching for a way out. No, she's not trying to escape. Not just yet. First, she has to see if Sharon is here and she's not fucking leaving until she searches every single room.

So she explores dark storage spaces filled with tools or piles of bodies in bags, the wrench held tightly in her hands. She's afraid, of course she's afraid, but something other than fear is what drives her. She's done this before, not so long ago at all; she'd gotten her daughter back no matter what it took. At the time, it felt like it took everything, every single thing, but oh— there's more left in her; she feels it now, a certain anger she's grown to rely on rising up from the well deep within her. And she'll use it to protect anyone who needs protecting, and to kill whatever stands in her way now. )

WILDCARD / ETC

^{ooc ➤ Hit me up on plurk (skeletals) / discord (large bat#2354) / pm / Rose's plot post
Respond in prose if that's your preference, and I'll gladly follow suit!}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm in charge.

[He is, in fact, the only person in here at the moment! Welcome to the Garb Place!

It's pretty normal that it's mostly empty right now. Michael's still setting things up in here. Right now, he's just chilling at the counter in the front, apparently drawing something in a notepad. Nothing that can't be interrupted; he sets the pencil down and laces his fingers together.]

Can I help you with something?

( After a whole lot of cryptic answers like "the ones who bless us", Rose finds herself stunned by the direct response the man gives. She blinks, taking him in for a moment.

He looks.... like a pretty normal, competent guy, and he definitely has some managerial vibes going on. Relief dares to pool into her, and she's releasing a sigh that sounds like it's been pent-up for a long while. Has she finally found the manager she can complain to...? )

Oh, thank god. ( Rose steps closer to his countertop, brows lifted. )

Can you tell me what state we're in? Nobody seems to want to tell me, or give me any clear kind of directions at all. ( Apparently, street signs are not a thing in this place and nobody she's asked seems to even understand what she means by them. None of the houses she's seen even have addresses. It's completely inefficient. )

[Michael raises his eyebrows in return.]

What state? Like...America state?

[He knows that America has states! He knows what like, probably twenty of them are, even! He doesn't see how anyone could really mistake this place for one of them, though, at least if they went through the entire squid journey first...]

I'm sorry, did you just get here?

Yeah, America. This isn't West Virginia, is it?

( ....Unless this... isn't America at all? That might make sense, given some of the architecture and styles she's seen people wandering around in.

Truthfully, Rose hasn't even remotely begun to really process the whole squid thing. What she's been told, and even what she's felt inside about it — those things have all been shoved aside. She firmly believes this is just a continuation of the place she was in before. Yet clearly... somewhere else, now. Somewhere that isn't Silent Hill, West Virginia. )

Yeah, I just got here. ( There's an urgency in her tone that makes her a little snappy — not at him, just generally. ) What, is this like Europe or something?

[Ooookay, this is gonna be a Whole Thing. Michael sucks a breath in through his teeth and leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk.]

Alright. So, this isn't actually Earth. Or - well, it might be a far-future version of Earth, but most likely not in any of our timelines specifically... [Mmm, no, he waves a hand.] That's not important. My point is, this isn't the world you just left.

( Rose stares at him, clearly dumbfounded by the explanation. By now, she has no reason not to believe just about anything she hears — not after what she's seen and experienced. Really, she doesn't have the luxury for doubt anymore, at least not in regards to all of... this.

Still, it's a lot, and she rakes both hands back through her hair for a moment, like she has a headache. Or is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She never got a chance to breathe after rescuing Sharon from Silent Hill, and now here she fucking is again.

...But she coaxes herself through it, tries to stave off the immense urge to break down into tears. Focuses on him instead — he certainly doesn't look like one of The Brethren, but if he's in charge of this place... The woman swallows, looks him in the eyes. )

Do you have my daughter?

...no?

[Where did that come from? Michael had only meant that he was in charge of this particular storefront; they're working from completely different premises here. But whatever - important thing is, she's apparently missing a kid. And unlikely to get her back, in his estimation, but it's still worth asking:]

Have you...seen her here, in the city?

( Sorry, Michael. She's a Horror Protagonist™, so she gets kind of stuck on one concept for a really long time. )

No, not yet— but I know she's here.

( She.... doesn't, but it only makes sense — this is too similar to what happened before. Clearly, the nightmare isn't over for her, and her daughter's been taken again.

Rose immediately fishes her locket up out of her shirt, opening it to show him the photo inside. It's a smiling little girl who doesn't resemble her at all: with her long black hair and much darker blue eyes. Rose leans forwards to show him, watching the man's reaction carefully. )

This is her. Have you seen her anywhere? Do you know anybody who might want to hurt her?

Edited 2021-11-19 19:30 (UTC)

[Michael cocks an eyebrow doubtfully, but leans forward to look at the picture anyhow. He doesn't really have a strong enough sense of how human families work to notice the lack of resemblance. Mostly, he notices that this isn't one of the kids he's seen around town.]

No...there's monsters that crop up around here sometimes, but not anybody sapient.

[And frankly he doubts this girl is present at all. Wishing she were doesn't make it so. Still...he can't verifiably say that she isn't. So despite his apparent skepticism, he shrugs and adds:]

You might want to check in with the Sleeper kids. Varian and Fern's house, maybe Eddie and Richie. The young ones tend to flock together.

( Slowly, she draws the locket back, easing it closed and brushing her thumb over the front — the familiar visage of the Virgin Mary. If he truly had any connection to those fucking... cultists from Silent Hill, he'd absolutely have reacted to the picture of Sharon.

It's a relief to have some evidence that someone in authority isn't connected to those people, but Rose realises it also leaves her completely lost as for how to go about... pursuing what to do next. That's when the man mentions Sleeper kids, naming a few of them, and she blinks back up at him again. )

They're all here without parents? What does this place want? What do you do?

I...am gonna run this store, eventually.

[It's plainly not really open for business yet. And it's also pretty plain that she wasn't asking after his work, but...Michael hasn't got many other answers to give.]

This isn't like the last town, where we knew why we'd shown up here. According to the locals, it just happens. [a little shrug] It's not that common for people from the same world to show up here - I've only seen a few come in with family members. They're alright, though, they aren't...little ones.

( Rose blinks, looking taken aback again before casting a glance around the shop itself. )

This store? ( She points upwards, as though for emphasis. ) You don't already own all these?

( Rose.... no... She's frowning at the next part though, clearly still concerned for the little gaggle of young people he'd mentioned by name. )

Is there anyone protecting them? Some kind of... I don't know, authority?

Well, I've moved into the building, and I brought all this stuff here.

[Notably, no mention of buying the space! But then, things here seem to function on squatter's rights.]

But we're not open for business yet, no. [...] There's not much of a local authority around here. We just look out for each other.

( Wait, so he just like— moved in?

She's casting another look around the space. It... really is a boutique. And he's the only person in sight, and what that means is just now really sinking in. Admittedly, she's not thinking too clearly at the moment; she hasn't exactly sat down since she first transformed from a squid (again, something Rose hasn't remotely processed)....

She'd just kind of... latched onto the concept of him being in charge. But now... She pushes a hand up into her hair again, fingertips pressing against her temple. )

....I'm sorry, are you not the— mayor... equivalent of this town?

....no. I meant I'm in charge here.

[Michael gestures around to the space, frowning - he'd thought that was obvious? Then again, it really wasn't clear to him, when she came in, that she meant are you in charge in Trench, generally?]

You would've been right, back where I came from. I was in charge of a lot of things there. But here in Trench, you're basically looking at it. [He sounds pretty okay with the demotion, anyway?]

...Oh. ( She's looking around some more, taking in the things set up in the shop. )

I guess I didn't expect to see something like this.... here. It seems so normal.

( Like the kind of little boutique she might drift into with her girlfriends, searching for unique items. After a moment, she turns to look back at him. )

Do you know who is in charge of this place? The whole thing. I need to talk to them.

Huh. [He leans forward, resting his elbows on the countertop.] Well, there's no Mayor or anything that I know of. The Tower is the original Architect of the place, or so they say - but I think that means something different here.

[Plainly it means something different to Michael than the common use of the word "architect".]

If you want someone who really knows what's going on, I'd ask one of the Pthumerians. They're not all easy to find, though...and you have to be alright dealing with immortals.

[Granted, she's dealing with one already, but he's pretty low-key about it and doesn't see much reason to present that fact right now!]

( The Tower, Architect... They're words that Rose saves in her bank of information, frown tightening a bit with thought. )

Sounds dangerous. Architect.... ( She repeats it quietly, not liking the way it feels. Yet again, it reminds her of something that might belong to Silent Hill, and the mental image is of some monstrosity, constructing things with supernatural ability, warping the world and people to its pleasure.

....Which ironically, her mental image here might be a lot like the type of Architect that Michael's familiar with, actually. )

I'm... pretty sure I have some experience dealing with immortals. ( ....Because she doesn't exactly know for sure, but whatever Dark Alessa had been — a demon? The Devil? — she most certainly was something ancient and powerful, possibly incapable of being killed. Rose swallows, looking back up at the Very Tall Boutique Owner. )

Have you talked to any of them before?

Well, you do now!

[Michael grins - he's joking! Not about the immortality thing, he's just trying to be lighthearted about it.]

I've talked to a few. I like the Tower, and Argonaut seems nice. Remina's supposed to be the one who knows everything, though - she's sort of a floating eyeball? You might want to start there. I've heard she can be a little pissy at times, but as long as you don't burn any books in front of her, you'll be alright.

You— ( Wait. ) You're immortal?

( It's asked with hesitation, and yet not disbelief, because despite being very new to all of this, Rose does accept it as real, at least. There's not a single part of her that would doubt otherwise when it came to Sharon, so.... sure, immortal things exist, even if she so barely understands them.

Maybe she can learn to understand them a little more. Even though this guy — in his neat suit and bowtie, freshly running a boutique — doesn't suit the image that "immortal" tends to conjure to mind. She'll return to the Pthumerians he's mentioned later; first, she's focusing on him.

.....And possibly he's something dangerous, but her need to understand and ultimately help Sharon outweighs any need to distance herself from this stranger. In fact, Rose, in true horror protagonist form, moves a little bit closer to him, peering at him carefully. )

Does that mean you're not a human?

No, I'm a demon. Usually we're only around in the human afterlife, but here -

[He waves a hand as if to indicate "fucking anything goes!"]

There's a lot of Sleepers around who aren't human. And a lot of weird humans, assuming they don't have magic powers or whatever in your world. They don't in mine. Of course, pretty much everyone gets those when you get here no matter what... [Sometimes he almost forgets that, with how similar his Darkblood abilities are to his regular ones.]

( A demon.

Rose just stares at him for a few long moments, eyes wide, but not necessarily afraid. Very quickly, he's become another type of potential resource for her. )

I'm pretty sure I haven't gotten any powers, at least not any I'm aware of. But my daughter... ( A pause, and then she just says it. What does she have to lose? This entity could help her, the way Dark Alessa had. )

She's part demon, maybe. Part.. something. And the people who are after her want to kill her because of that.

[Michael, ever a wellspring of tact, grimaces in disgust.]

Ugh. Things must be different where you're from, we don't breed.

[But the rest of that, you know, that's probably a little more important. Michael leans forward against his desk, peering at Rose again.]

Listen, are you really sure any of these people are actually here in Trench? Have you seen anyone from home?

Oh— She's actually... She's adopted.

( The reality of it is really only still sinking into her. She adopted a child that isn't only a child. It's... a lot to take in; she doesn't quite know how. )

No, I haven't seen anybody from there, and none of the people who were after her. But— well I know this is going to sound crazy, but I can just feel it. That it's not over. How could it be? That'd be too... easy.

Well, shit happens. It doesn't always go the way you think it will.

[But he...doesn't know. It's probably not great to put in a ton of effort trying to convince this woman that her kid's not around when, really, Michael doesn't actually know that. People come in from the same world sometimes; it's not like it's impossible. Either way, it's not really his business, is it? She'll figure it out, whichever it is.]

Let me see the picture again?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(open) — have you seen a little girl?

i. willful machine

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