devilmind (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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deercountry2022-04-17 08:59 pm
devilmind) wrote in deercountry2022-04-17 08:59 pm
Entry tags:
(closed) open up your skull, i'll be there
Who: The Operator
What: The Operator encounters their Tether and doesn't react well. Rose intervenes.
When: Mid-April
Where: Somewhere in Cassandra
Content Warnings: Creepy doppelganger, mentions of insanity
[ There are many things that the Operator likes about living in Trench.
They like the freedom of movement they have—in the few short months they’ve been here, it feels like they’ve walked a greater distance than they have in their entire, centuries-long life back home. They like the people and the easy, unthinking kindness they show—a rarity to one accustomed to being seen as a god, a devil, or a monster in their own world. And, they are coming to find, they like the idleness of the place, the lack of urgency. They may spend an afternoon in meditation or gathering herbs for trade, and there is nothing more to command their attention than the current activity at hand. They had said once that life here was peaceful and though some might disagree, the Operator had sincerely meant it.
There is also one other aspect to life here that has been a great relief to them—that, in the months they have lived here, they have not heard his voice, nor seen his empty eyes. For those first few weeks, they had waited for some sign of him. After two months, they’d felt the first glimmerings of hope that this place was beyond his reach. And now, four months in, they have begun to actually believe it—
Which is why their heart drops so suddenly when they see the figure waiting for them outside the church one evening. He, of course, looks like them. He always looks like them—their clothes, their face, their voice. However horrifying it is to see him here, that much is expected.
They walk towards him, heart pounding, yet they feel curiously numb. No matter how long it’s been, they know it always goes the same way. They approach. He reminds them of their deal. And then he vanishes. Even here, it will be no different. Won’t it? But as they draw closer, they realize something is wrong. They freeze mid-step, staring in cold shock.
His eyes are a bright and luminous gold—the same as their own.
They stare for a long moment, shock slowly giving way to horror. Nausea curls in the pit of their stomach. He has never appeared as a perfect reflection to them before. Always, the eyes are wrong—they are a starry void or silver light. But they know that he has rescinded that mercy before. They know what happened to Albrecht Entrati.
They are frozen for all of a few seconds. Then, their twin takes a step toward them and they run.
The Operator is fast when they want to be. At times, they disappear from view completely, their presence only signaled by the sound of rushing wind. When they reappear, they are meters away in the blink of an eye—and yet, when they look back, their identical shadow is always keeping pace—until they reach the point where they cannot run any longer.
The little street where they’ve found themself is lined with shops, most of them in the process of closing for the evening. At the end of the corner, their doppelganger stands watching them.
A few short months ago, they would have, on some level, accepted their fate—that they would be destroyed or driven mad or possessed. They had made the deal. And now, the due has come. That they might cry out for help, as if they were a child, wouldn’t have occurred to them at all. They aren’t a child. And the thing pursuing them is not an entity that can be dissuaded.
But their time in Trench, with all its freedoms and kindnesses, has changed them. And when they see a familiar figure coming out of one of the shops, they hesitate for only a moment before bolting towards her. ]
Rose! [ They close the distance and practically throw themself into her arms. They don’t think she can protect them, not really. All they know is that whatever happens next, they don’t want to face it alone. Their words tumble out in an incoherent flood, voice breathless and near-tears. ] The Man in the Wall— he's here—wearing my face, my eyes. [ They stare up at the woman, knowing that there is so, so much context missing in this world and yet desperately willing her to understand. They think of Rell, how the Lotus had said it was all in his head when the Man in the Wall came for him. They shake their head, a pre-emptive denial. ] Whatever happens, it’s him, not me. [ Their face crumples as they say the words, suddenly overwhelmed at the thought of not being believed. ] I’m not crazy.
What: The Operator encounters their Tether and doesn't react well. Rose intervenes.
When: Mid-April
Where: Somewhere in Cassandra
Content Warnings: Creepy doppelganger, mentions of insanity
[ There are many things that the Operator likes about living in Trench.
They like the freedom of movement they have—in the few short months they’ve been here, it feels like they’ve walked a greater distance than they have in their entire, centuries-long life back home. They like the people and the easy, unthinking kindness they show—a rarity to one accustomed to being seen as a god, a devil, or a monster in their own world. And, they are coming to find, they like the idleness of the place, the lack of urgency. They may spend an afternoon in meditation or gathering herbs for trade, and there is nothing more to command their attention than the current activity at hand. They had said once that life here was peaceful and though some might disagree, the Operator had sincerely meant it.
There is also one other aspect to life here that has been a great relief to them—that, in the months they have lived here, they have not heard his voice, nor seen his empty eyes. For those first few weeks, they had waited for some sign of him. After two months, they’d felt the first glimmerings of hope that this place was beyond his reach. And now, four months in, they have begun to actually believe it—
Which is why their heart drops so suddenly when they see the figure waiting for them outside the church one evening. He, of course, looks like them. He always looks like them—their clothes, their face, their voice. However horrifying it is to see him here, that much is expected.
They walk towards him, heart pounding, yet they feel curiously numb. No matter how long it’s been, they know it always goes the same way. They approach. He reminds them of their deal. And then he vanishes. Even here, it will be no different. Won’t it? But as they draw closer, they realize something is wrong. They freeze mid-step, staring in cold shock.
His eyes are a bright and luminous gold—the same as their own.
They stare for a long moment, shock slowly giving way to horror. Nausea curls in the pit of their stomach. He has never appeared as a perfect reflection to them before. Always, the eyes are wrong—they are a starry void or silver light. But they know that he has rescinded that mercy before. They know what happened to Albrecht Entrati.
They are frozen for all of a few seconds. Then, their twin takes a step toward them and they run.
The Operator is fast when they want to be. At times, they disappear from view completely, their presence only signaled by the sound of rushing wind. When they reappear, they are meters away in the blink of an eye—and yet, when they look back, their identical shadow is always keeping pace—until they reach the point where they cannot run any longer.
The little street where they’ve found themself is lined with shops, most of them in the process of closing for the evening. At the end of the corner, their doppelganger stands watching them.
A few short months ago, they would have, on some level, accepted their fate—that they would be destroyed or driven mad or possessed. They had made the deal. And now, the due has come. That they might cry out for help, as if they were a child, wouldn’t have occurred to them at all. They aren’t a child. And the thing pursuing them is not an entity that can be dissuaded.
But their time in Trench, with all its freedoms and kindnesses, has changed them. And when they see a familiar figure coming out of one of the shops, they hesitate for only a moment before bolting towards her. ]
Rose! [ They close the distance and practically throw themself into her arms. They don’t think she can protect them, not really. All they know is that whatever happens next, they don’t want to face it alone. Their words tumble out in an incoherent flood, voice breathless and near-tears. ] The Man in the Wall— he's here—wearing my face, my eyes. [ They stare up at the woman, knowing that there is so, so much context missing in this world and yet desperately willing her to understand. They think of Rell, how the Lotus had said it was all in his head when the Man in the Wall came for him. They shake their head, a pre-emptive denial. ] Whatever happens, it’s him, not me. [ Their face crumples as they say the words, suddenly overwhelmed at the thought of not being believed. ] I’m not crazy.
no subject
That feeling isn't necessarily new; she'd never once trusted it here. But it's this month, with its perpetual darkness and it's strange fog, that is making her feel especially on-edge. As though all of the fears she's been hosting are reaching their climax, and the truth about why she and Sharon were brought here will finally be revealed. Some dark, dark truth that will threaten to take her daughter from her once again.
Rose will not allow that to happen. And it isn't only her own child she must protect, now. Part of her thinks maybe that is why she was brought here — to protect them all, save them all. It's an overwhelming thought if she lets it be. But it's not one she has any desire to run away from. She accepts the idea of this role as though that's how it's always been. As though it's been waiting for her, and there's a warmth in her spirit through the fears.
Rose patrols the streets and shops diligently, checking in on people and stocking up on supplies she thinks might prove useful. It's a bundle of incense and some candles that make up her recent purchase, and she's just exiting the shop when a smaller body is suddenly against her, fretful. The woman doesn't hesitate to wrap her arms around them, even those seconds before she processes who they even are; she welcomes them to herself, immediately protective. Then it hits her as they speak, it's Tenno, or— Cedar, as Junia had referred to them as. Rose isn't sure, but titles and names don't matter. Only that rush of upset, on the cusp of tears.
Rose's eyes widen in alarm and concern and she's staring down at them; the words come through like a gut punch. She doesn't have to understand the context of their alarm in order to feel it. Immediately, Rose believes whatever they say, and the need to soothe their upset comes in like a wave, Rose shaking her head fervently. )
You're not. ( Her hands move to take their shoulders, hold on tight. ) It's okay— I believe you.
( And in the next beat, the horror of whatever entity has upset them is dominating, and Rose is looking around, her grasp on the child defensive, protective. ...Angry, her brow furrowing, mouth twisting just slightly towards something that almost looks like a snarl. Aimed outwards, as though this bogeyman — The Man in the Wall, it sounds like something from a child's nightmare — is lurking just nearby. )
I won't let him hurt you. ( She thinks of the knife tucked into her boot, and gets ready to use it. ) What does he want with you?
no subject
I don't know, [ they say wretchedly, head turning in the direction they had last seen their doppelganger following. ] I... I owe him. That's what he always says.
[ They remember the Man in the Wall's offer: to save them and all the other children from the grown-ups howling at the door. They remember his hand outstretched towards them—their own hand—and how they had seized onto it in desperation. They remember being willing to pay any price, anything at all for salvation. What they don't remember was what they had promised in return. Had it been their life that they offered up? Their body? Their mind? There is no price he could have asked that they would have turned down—and that is what terrifies them now. ]
There! [ Their hand shoots out, pointing down the road at a figure on the horizon—a figure that is steadily approaching. The first thing Rose might notice is that the figure is not a man at all; it is small and slender, no larger than a child. As it draws closer and its shape resolves, it becomes clear that it is a child—the very same one that clings to Rose now.
Immediately, the Operator tries to pull her in the opposite direction. Exhausted as they are, their instinct is to get her away from danger, never mind that it was them who fled to her. ]
I can't fight him, [ they whisper, shaking their head. ] Fighting him only makes him stronger.
no subject
But she won't stand for the implications of this. Like some price to be paid — No. Yet again, she thinks of her daughter, and the other little girl who came before Sharon: Alessa. The price she, they, had paid.
No.
She'll kill him if she has to. This thing, this man. That's what she doesn't tell them aloud, but she's holding onto them more tightly, head continuing to whip around in search, before...
'There!'
....But what she's seeing coming their way isn't a man at all, or even a monster. It's... them. Rose is stunned, not understanding how this is possible (but then.... of course, she's seen doubles of a child before). For a moment, she lets herself be urged by the child pulling her, but then Rose stops, reaches for their arms, holds onto them to gently but firmly keep them in place. )
Tenno, wait— ( She tries to catch their hands if she can, an almost instinctive gesture, to hold onto them protective and secure. )
It's you. I only see you.