deercountry | (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

( Rose gives a nod of thanks at his words, gently closing the locket after a moment and sliding it back underneath her shirt. )

I really appreciate it. I'm Rose. Rose Da Silva.

( She slips her hands into the pockets of her coat, squaring her shoulders a little. Some flutter of confidence returning, because saying her name makes her feel more like herself, again. And she has help, someone who seems competent and normal, for lack of a better term — normal in comparison to the residents of Silent Hill, at least. The man already reminds her a little of Cybil, and her heart clenches a little. )

What's yours?

[Erwin offers a faint smile when she tells him her name. He's well aware that he has a certain trustworthy, authoritative aura around him, and it's good to know that people still respond to it here.]

A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Da Silva. I'm Erwin Smith.

[Since she has her hands in her pockets, he doesn't offer to shake.]

Now, what kind of place do you think would attract your daughter? Would she be more interested in somewhere unusual and exciting, or more recognisable and safe?

( The question has Rose thinking for a moment, almost as though unsure. Truthfully.... she isn't sure, not anymore. Her daughter isn't.... quite the same anymore. Whatever happened in Silent Hill most assuredly left Sharon changed forever. In exactly what ways, she isn't sure of either. There was hardly any time to process what had happened, to make sure of the little girl's state.

But she knows how Sharon used to be, and so it's what she goes with now, even if her brows furrow and her expression is strange, torn. )

Somewhere safe, I think. She— she gets scared of things, she's very sensitive. Very sweet. ( Such a precious little thing. )

And we were somewhere.. horrible before this. There were people there who wanted to hurt her, so I think she'd be.... trying to find somewhere safe, away from them.

[Erwin certainly takes note of Rose's expressions, but he doesn't comment on them. There's something deeper going on here, something beyond just a missing child, but there will be time to find out about it later.]

Ah. So somewhere safe, and non-threatening.

[A moment's thought.]

Have you tried the local schools, or any kind of authority figures? Perhaps she'd have sought them out to find someone to help her.

There are schools here? ( Her brows lift at that, the thought clearly standing out to her. )

I think she'd be too scared to go to someone herself, but she might go to a school. That's... familiar for her.

( Or familiar to Alessa. God, this is... complicated. )

Do you know if there's one for children? An elementary?

I don't, but I'm certainly willing to help you look for one.

[Erwin is pleased that she liked his idea, and that they have a direction now.]

Perhaps if we asked some of the locals, they could point us towards one?

( Yet again, Rose finds herself relieved for some help. She's nodding at the idea, casting a quick glance around for anyone who seems open to being approached. There's a woman selling trinkets nearby, so Rose gestures to her and moves that way with him, asking if there happens to be a school around here.

After a little bit of back and forth, the important facts are collected: there's an academy in the Gaze District, one where "the scholars study the arcane arts." That sounds......slightly ominous, but she's ever the more determined now as she thanks the woman and steps in the direction she was told to go. Then she's tilting her head towards Erwin as she walks, speaking a little more quietly now, hushed. It's becoming very clear just how different this place really is. )

Arcane.... That kind of stuff sounds like magic, doesn't it?

( Maybe it's kind of clear from the way she says the word that she doesn't have much experience with the concept. )

[Erwin lets Rose do the talking with the merchant, falling into the background. The seller is more open to talking with another woman, and Erwin won't intrude on that. He does, however, listen closely to everything they say.]

[And then they're off down the street, and Erwin lengthens his stride until he's walking next to Rose. He bends his head down and drops his voice as well.]

It does.

[Which is both exciting and terrifying?]

Do they have magic, where you and your daughter are from?

No— nothing like that. ( She admits with a sigh through her nostrils, looking a bit stunned about it all. )

...At least, I always thought that was the case. But.... ( A pause, and Rose worries her bottom lip for a moment. )

...my daughter. She's adopted, and I recently found out she's not... well, I'm not sure she's entirely human.

I know, it all sounds absolutely crazy, doesn't it.

Less crazy than you'd think.

[In fact, Erwin is a bit relieved that she comes from a world with powers. He's found that it's easier to relate to people who at least acknowledge that things can be more than what they seem.]

What did she do that made you think that, if I may ask?

( Likewise, there's a strange sensation of relief to hear his own reply. It means that he probably isn't listening to what she's saying with the thought that she should be tossed into the looney bin.

Though explaining it is... complicated. Rose hesitates, glancing around almost as though to make sure no one else is close enough to listen in as they walk. )

The place she came from.... something really horrible happened there. I went there to try and learn more about her, and found out she's... well, the people there think she's some kind of witch, or demon.

( Her brow tightens again, mouth tugging back into a tight frown. ) I don't know what to call her, but she's... not evil. I know that much. People are just afraid of what they don't understand.

And what they don't understand, they try to eliminate.

[This is all familiar to Erwin. Not the exact details, perhaps, but what she's talking about are things he knows intimately. He comes from a similar ~~Japanese horror~~ place, and so he accepts everything Rose is telling him.]

Then if she's here, we need to find her as quickly as possible. Have you checked the communication device to see if her name is there?

( The way Rose's expression shifts — tightening, eyes hard and upset all in equal parts — probably betrays that he's said something that's struck her hard. That's exactly it, and even if it's just a familiarity for the general concept, it's something that makes her feel ten times less alone.

There's a firm nod, mouth tugged into a tense line. )

Someone did show me how to use that thing earlier, and I scrolled through looking for any messages from her. But... nothing. ( It was a deep disappointment, but there are certainly many more avenues to explore. Going to check out the school with someone else to help is already giving her a renewed sense of hope, and she's quickening the pace as she heads that way. )

I really appreciate you helping me, Mr. Smith. Hopefully she's at the school, waiting for me to come to her. Like last time.

( Unfortunately.... )

(open) — have you seen a little girl?

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this could be a good place to wrap / assume they explored the school for a good while, if u like!