1. The Lost Ones -- General [[CW: Loss, murder, death]]
[The harsh cold of winter arrives -- a season that Lucille usually adores more than any other. It is a season known for darkness, crackling fires, warm blankets, and solitude. And yet, she finds no joy in winter this year. Instead, her mind swirls with heavy emotions, rising and falling in waves but never wholly leaving her in peace. She cannot sleep, cannot rest. The monster rose last month, spilling blood to protect her loved ones, but her actions fail to ease her mind as they usually would. Eddie's disappearance, after all, is a harsh reminder that she can fight and kill and maim for her dear ones and still have them taken away from her forever.
Eddie was like a son to her, and to have him vanish without a word feels most cruel. It's an excruciating loss, more painful to Lucille than anything else ever could be. It is a pain that reminds her of how she felt upon losing Thomas, a pain that could turn her into a wild, howling wraith if she isn't careful. And so she retreats, vanishing so that she can contend with her heightened emotions in solitude. She is utterly terrified that she'll lose others after this. That she'll be alone once more. When she is out in public, she can be found at Sapphora, playing sorrowful melodies that occasionally get complaints from the hunters, who want to hear more upbeat songs. Those criticisms fall upon deaf ears, and management doesn't seem particularly interested in doing anything about it. Occasionally, she appears at the homes of her dear ones, silently checking in on them to ensure they haven't vanished. She has no intention of being caught, as she doesn't wish to be seen, but there is a good chance of it happening anyway.
She can also be found at the beach. She goes there seeking solitude, but she can be found easily. All one has to do is follow the gentle, mournful lullaby being carried by the icy wind. She'll be found sitting upon the sand, watching the ocean, singing as if doing so might summon her lost child.]
2. Winter Mourning
[She hangs her Winter Mourning above the fireplace -- a thing made of twine, twigs, dead leaves, and antlers all neatly arranged into a beautiful wreath. She only creates one with the hope that it might protect her -- and her dear ones -- from harm. If she can gain the favor of Dorothea, perhaps she won't lose anyone else. She sits by the fire, a book sitting in her lap, when the wreath begins to emanate an intense glow. She raises her eyes and stands, setting the book down on the chair. A slender hand reaches out to touch the wreath...]
A -- Death of a Tyrant [[CW: Child Abuse, Abusive language, eventual poisoning]]
[Lucille recognizes her surroundings immediately. It's Allerdale Hall -- her ancestral home, though it looks much nicer than she remembers. There is no gaping hole in the roof, no peeling wallpaper, or red clay oozing from the floorboards. Lucille feels overjoyed, but that feeling is temporary. It's quickly replaced with dread. A booming, male voice screams her name, and the way it echoes sends chills down her spine. The sound of heavy boots can be heard upstairs stomping against floorboards. The voice yells her name again and then calls her something cruel and violent that no child should ever be called. There's a little sob coming from the elevator; she can see a child-like shape crouched in there, frozen on the spot, and she knows exactly who it is.]
Oh no...
B -- Dusk of Childhood [[CW: Child Abuse, Murder, Blood]]
[Lucille sees her child self holding a cleaver, standing in front of a closed door. A young boy is standing beside her, looking at the girl with red-rimmed eyes. "I wish I could do something," the boy says feebly, sniffling. "It's okay. I'll do it. I always protect you, don't I?" says the girl. An older woman screeches Lucille's name, calling out to her from behind the door, and the younger Lucille raises the cleaver.
"She won't hurt us anymore. We'll be free."
The older Lucille, who has always kept this memory close to her heart, watches the children wide-eyed. She then looks to whoever accompanies her.]
If you can, please, walk away from this memory. It is meant for no one else.
C -- The Wolf and the Rabbit
[Now, this particular memory may feel, to a certain degree, familiar to anyone who had ever been to the Grady Hotel in Deerington. On this particular night, there's extravagance all around. Loud music plays in the background, and a sea of people fill the room, talking, laughing, and dancing. When Lucille sees herself amidst this crowd of people, her heart instantly fills with an icy dread. This was the night before reality shifted, and she believed herself to be trapped on an ill-fated vessel. She sees herself approaching a child sitting away from the crowd, and wants to call out to both of them. She wants to plead with them not to go into that office. But there's nothing she can do.
Not a single damn thing...]
3. Run, Rabbit, Run
[As days pass, her agitation grows. She thought that solitude was the answer, but being alone with her thoughts has made her feel more paranoid, more frightened. Eventually, she emerges from the house with a knife held tightly in one hand -- a large knife used for carving. The blade, thankfully, is clean (for now), but her breathing is erratic, and her eyes are wide with fear and hatred. Someone is standing near her house, and she doesn't like it.]
Why are you here?! [She hisses, her words poisonous and sharp.] What do you want?!
Lucille Sharpe | Crimson Peak
[The harsh cold of winter arrives -- a season that Lucille usually adores more than any other. It is a season known for darkness, crackling fires, warm blankets, and solitude. And yet, she finds no joy in winter this year. Instead, her mind swirls with heavy emotions, rising and falling in waves but never wholly leaving her in peace. She cannot sleep, cannot rest. The monster rose last month, spilling blood to protect her loved ones, but her actions fail to ease her mind as they usually would. Eddie's disappearance, after all, is a harsh reminder that she can fight and kill and maim for her dear ones and still have them taken away from her forever.
Eddie was like a son to her, and to have him vanish without a word feels most cruel. It's an excruciating loss, more painful to Lucille than anything else ever could be. It is a pain that reminds her of how she felt upon losing Thomas, a pain that could turn her into a wild, howling wraith if she isn't careful. And so she retreats, vanishing so that she can contend with her heightened emotions in solitude. She is utterly terrified that she'll lose others after this. That she'll be alone once more. When she is out in public, she can be found at Sapphora, playing sorrowful melodies that occasionally get complaints from the hunters, who want to hear more upbeat songs. Those criticisms fall upon deaf ears, and management doesn't seem particularly interested in doing anything about it. Occasionally, she appears at the homes of her dear ones, silently checking in on them to ensure they haven't vanished. She has no intention of being caught, as she doesn't wish to be seen, but there is a good chance of it happening anyway.
She can also be found at the beach. She goes there seeking solitude, but she can be found easily. All one has to do is follow the gentle, mournful lullaby being carried by the icy wind. She'll be found sitting upon the sand, watching the ocean, singing as if doing so might summon her lost child.]
2. Winter Mourning
[She hangs her Winter Mourning above the fireplace -- a thing made of twine, twigs, dead leaves, and antlers all neatly arranged into a beautiful wreath. She only creates one with the hope that it might protect her -- and her dear ones -- from harm. If she can gain the favor of Dorothea, perhaps she won't lose anyone else. She sits by the fire, a book sitting in her lap, when the wreath begins to emanate an intense glow. She raises her eyes and stands, setting the book down on the chair. A slender hand reaches out to touch the wreath...]
A -- Death of a Tyrant [[CW: Child Abuse, Abusive language, eventual poisoning]]
[Lucille recognizes her surroundings immediately. It's Allerdale Hall -- her ancestral home, though it looks much nicer than she remembers. There is no gaping hole in the roof, no peeling wallpaper, or red clay oozing from the floorboards. Lucille feels overjoyed, but that feeling is temporary. It's quickly replaced with dread. A booming, male voice screams her name, and the way it echoes sends chills down her spine. The sound of heavy boots can be heard upstairs stomping against floorboards. The voice yells her name again and then calls her something cruel and violent that no child should ever be called. There's a little sob coming from the elevator; she can see a child-like shape crouched in there, frozen on the spot, and she knows exactly who it is.]
Oh no...
B -- Dusk of Childhood [[CW: Child Abuse, Murder, Blood]]
[Lucille sees her child self holding a cleaver, standing in front of a closed door. A young boy is standing beside her, looking at the girl with red-rimmed eyes. "I wish I could do something," the boy says feebly, sniffling. "It's okay. I'll do it. I always protect you, don't I?" says the girl. An older woman screeches Lucille's name, calling out to her from behind the door, and the younger Lucille raises the cleaver.
"She won't hurt us anymore. We'll be free."
The older Lucille, who has always kept this memory close to her heart, watches the children wide-eyed. She then looks to whoever accompanies her.]
If you can, please, walk away from this memory. It is meant for no one else.
C -- The Wolf and the Rabbit
[Now, this particular memory may feel, to a certain degree, familiar to anyone who had ever been to the Grady Hotel in Deerington. On this particular night, there's extravagance all around. Loud music plays in the background, and a sea of people fill the room, talking, laughing, and dancing. When Lucille sees herself amidst this crowd of people, her heart instantly fills with an icy dread. This was the night before reality shifted, and she believed herself to be trapped on an ill-fated vessel. She sees herself approaching a child sitting away from the crowd, and wants to call out to both of them. She wants to plead with them not to go into that office. But there's nothing she can do.
Not a single damn thing...]
3. Run, Rabbit, Run
[As days pass, her agitation grows. She thought that solitude was the answer, but being alone with her thoughts has made her feel more paranoid, more frightened. Eventually, she emerges from the house with a knife held tightly in one hand -- a large knife used for carving. The blade, thankfully, is clean (for now), but her breathing is erratic, and her eyes are wide with fear and hatred. Someone is standing near her house, and she doesn't like it.]
Why are you here?! [She hisses, her words poisonous and sharp.] What do you want?!