rosamund

[polliwog]

🪡🦈

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w0 ; first saturday

[polliwog]

[ near the observation deck... ]

Oh—hello again!

[ he stops from running into her, because that'd be a mess. ]

I see you've found your proper clothes? [ ASSUMING SHE'S CHANGED he is wearing a bunch of silver jewelry and a cravat now, wow. ]

explodes

[rosebleed]

[He would kill her on impact but he'd get infected from thorn pricks and die. We'd both be free.]

Yes! Yes, I have. [Proper is generous, considering they are ripped to shit.] It feels so much better. And I didn't have to cut up your suit! Would you like it back?

Though...

[He seems p happy naked. Keeping prudent eyelines here.]

WEEK 0: First Monday

[rosebleed]

[They're at the bar because I want to see Sidon on a shitty cocktail stool. She's got a mug of tea and is once again flipping through profiles on IRIS, and does not notice his approach until a l o n g shadow falls over her.

To which she startles and grabs for her bow.]

Aaah!

[oh it's just him]

[polliwog]

[ unfortunately, he is very large and enemy-shaped, as he's learned this weekend. it's a good reason to jump—within a beat of surprise, he quickly reaches to cover her quiver with one large hand, since he won't beat her to her bow. there is not really a lick of fear in him. ]

Hold, Rosamund! It is only me.

w0 ; fri

[polliwog]

[ he's over by the barriered locations; there's a trash can tipped over, presumably from where he's tried to break his way in a la mini-event, but it hasn't worked. obviously. now he's here, and his emotions are—less bright than usual. obviously.

he reaches out to touch it, and isn't hot enough to burn, but it's still warm enough that he draws his hand back in a futile burst of frustration. ]

Curses!

[rosebleed]

Sidon!

[Rosamund comes running. She's got her bow in hand and an arrow at the ready, both trained to the ground as she sprints towards him.]

What's happening? Is there something in there?

[After turning up bupkiss everywhere else, she's praying for a damn miracle right now.]

w0 ; sun

[polliwog]

[ he's sitting in the obs deck with a book which is probably comically small for him to flip, but also he's not really reading it, looking out to the stars instead. he isn't exactly tired, but the vibes are a little subdued, for him. ]

Hello, Rosamund. [ he offers her a smile when he notices her presence. ] Come to clear your mind?

[ if such a thing is possible. ]

[rosebleed]

[little book in big fingies

wait fins?

idk i'm too tired to go find out]

In a sense.

[She fidgets. The vibes are down bro.]

Mind if I have a seat?

WEEK 1: Thursday

[rosebleed]

[Assuming he'll be posted in the medbay, Rosamund arrives some hours after the return with a bouquet of flowers and a box of fresh fish and chips.]

Sidon? [She edges through the door warily.] Are you feeling all right?

[polliwog]

[ rosamund you are so cute and for what. thank you for not thinking eating fish is cannibalism.

he's just reclining against the wall, resting his eyes. his arm has stopped bleeding, the trunk of it closed over in that gross state of fresh, barely-healed injury. he's not sleeping though, as evidenced when he cracks open his eyes at her quiet footsteps.

he'll wave her in with his good arm. ] Rosamund! Hello. [ spotting her Gifts ] You didn't need to bring anything...

WEEK 1: Sunday

[rosebleed]

[She's shunned most company today. Once again her room feels too stifling, so she's left to wander in search of solace elsewhere. Her fingers are drifting idle and uninterested over the clothing racks in the concourse when she's joined by a familiar looming shadow.

She doesn't reach for the bow this time.]

Kind of a strange selection in here. Don't you think?

[polliwog]

[ it's a little pointless for him to do so, given that he doesn't wear clothes or even fit into most of these, but he reaches out to gently push one hanger towards the next. ]

Maybe they're trying to cater to everyone.

[ an eclectic collection for forty people. he speaks pleasantly. ]

They do have some very odd jewelry.

w2 ; tues

[polliwog]

[ they can be in the fur shop, because being cold is not very fun for him and also it's a neat spread of wares. besides clothes, there's plenty of little trinkets and artisan crafts, and ink drawings—though they seem to be drawing them on people. tattoos...

in a conspiratorial side whisper, which is pretty loud because he is not a quiet person, ]

Rosamund! What is that!

[rosebleed]

[Oh she feels this. Fuck the cold. Love nature! But fuck the cold.

She suppresses a laugh because there is no indoor voice on this man (missing thought-share week rn) and leans in to whisper.]

It's a tattoo! They put ink under your skin with needles, and then you have a picture on you forever.

WEEK 2: Thursday

[rosebleed]

[It's not so dreadfully cold on the morning of their departure. Enough so that Rosamund feels solid about doing more exploring. She let herself off easy this week, feeling glum and chilly and none too enthused about carrying on work for this ship, but now that their time here is ending she'd like to at least poke around a little.

So she snags a free ELD and kidnaps Sidon, who'd felt similarly about the weather, cavorting off to the old village. There's something nostalgic about ruins, no matter what kind or where you are. She disembarks, breathing in the fresh air.]

It's beautiful. I can see why they settled here.

[polliwog]

[ he's gotten better at bundling up at least, though he's very eager to not have to wear a bunch of warming pads and stuff. this planet's weather sucks. however... ]

It is. [ he pats the (large) elc he's on. ] The forests are lovely. If you're lucky—you might see waves of color in the sky. Apparently they have revered them for ages.

[ it's pretty, in the way that the arctic north is. ]

I still wouldn't want to live here, but our hosts have made a home of it.

w4 ; weds

[polliwog]

[ post paintball, there is just a guy hanging around outside somewhere. just resting up for a second after all the chaos. ]

[rosebleed]

[NOT BALDLUC

can i cancel this pc]

WEEK 5: Monday

[rosebleed]

[Rosamund is still scoping the place out, coming to terms with her untimely demise, pretending Diluc forgiving her makes everything okay. It's fine we're in it together.

She is currently in Sweeney Hut Jr's, frowning deeply at the marriage of back alley surgery and pie shops. She lifts a pie to her nose and sniffs...]

[polliwog]

[ ah yes, the process of coming to terms with murder-death. he only had to deal with the death part.

he just sniffs the air so she's not alone. ]

Looking for something, Rosamund?

w5 ; thurs

[polliwog]

[ she can catch him shortly after he's revived, recent enough that he's still putting on one of his bracers, clasping it into place. ]

...Rosamund. [ he's tired, but he gives her a little smile in greeting. ] Sorry—I feel like we gave you all a fright.

WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY FIIIIIIISH

[rosebleed]

Seems like we're all spinning bottles to take turns on that, Sidon.

[It had been a rough four hours. She had to put her faith in the resolute assurance of everyone else that it was only temporary. Only now that he's square in her sights does the vice on her chest loosen. Not by much, but enough.

Rosamund draws closer, holding her hands towards the remaining bracer.]

Allow me?

w6 ; mon

[polliwog]

[ as with all my planetside threads, you're legally obliged to show me a swimsuit fit

they can have taken a boat out into the water, because humans can't breathe liquids for some reason. ]

It's so beautiful here! [ very similar to his own home... ] Can you swim, Rosamund?

[rosebleed]

[why would you send me on such a dangerous pinterest spiral?? anyway i won't cheat and reuse the one from the last log so here we're going against floral themes for once.]

A little? I wouldn't say I'm a natural at it, but I won't drown on you! [She smiles.

Then splashes him a little from the side of the boat.]

Just don't leave me in the dust too quickly.

WEEK 6: Wednesday

[rosebleed]

[Hungover but knocking on his door with a breakfast tray.]

Sidon? Are you awake?

[polliwog]

[ jumpscared by this notif

anyway hungover or not he's awake bright and early and chilling wherever. going over town hall notes. ]

Rosamund! Good morning! [ yayyy mornings ] How are you feeling? I woke up with an incredible headache!

[ wow! ]

WEEK 6: Friday

[rosebleed]

[Rosamund can be found at the Rat's Share. The wine ain't fine but she is finding it soothes her nerves. Maybe she should consider slowing down at some point, drinking has become something of a habit on board the Eudora, and a crutch now that the limits are off in the Helly Belly.

But tonight, she feels it warranted. Everyone lived, but that only stokes her worries further. Something terrible awaits them, she can feel it.

She greets Sidon with a wave when he enters.]

Care to sit down?

[polliwog]

No need to even ask.

[ see, drinking isn't so bad as long as you're not drinking alone. an easily remedied problem, considering he does come sit down and one of the rat bartenders works at fixing him a drink immediately. ]

We've been putting the bartenders through their paces this week. [ the hot chocolate was a nice break in what's becoming a norm ]

WEEK 7: Monday ((cw: body horror, squelching noises))

[rosebleed]

[The memory starts in fits. He gets the sense that he's in a hut, stinking and cold, manned by a massive, spindly hag. She addresses the wayward souls gathered within — one familiar, the rest very strange — in a gravelly voice with a thick Slavic accent.

"Anyway, you have your chores."

The puppet boy speaks up. "You know what we were talking about? If you're not interested in wolves, how do you feel about harps?"

The hag smiles cruelly. "You know, with a gift, it is the thought that counts, and I like for a gift to hurt to give."

Then the scene flickers out in favour of the woods. It's Rosamund alone, checking snares in the bush. Then there's a sound in the distance.

The story unfolds quite clearly from there. A bitter ending hits, and they are back in the hut.

Except they are changed. There's no little girl with wolfen ears, only a grand wolf. A bullfrog the size of a mount, a crown on the precipice of falling off its head. What the puppet, the cat, and the old man have lost is less clear, but there's a slump to each shoulder, a reluctance to meet any eyes.

Rosamund reaches out to her newly canid friend. "Ylfa, would you like some skritches?"

The wolf replies. "Who's Ylfa?"

Her face nearly falters. But she smiles brighter, because that's the only option left to her. "Would the Big Bad Wolf like some skritches?"

And then it ends. Back to the Eudora once more.]


((Watch from 0:53-End))

[polliwog]

[ it's a gruesome scene. the stench of death, the feeling of something lost that will never quite grow back. a person created for her to love. perfect in every way. how could anyone ever match up to that? she would choose her own loneliness to contrived perfection. a hut full of friends who have chosen something broken, too.

he takes her hand when they're free of it, the smell of death and wolves and the forest floor receding. ]

...You chose freedom for the both of you. [ her prince, too. she saved an innocent person and herself from their perfect life together. ] I'm sorry it came at such a cost.

[ but not sorry about the choice itself. ]

w7 ; friday

[polliwog]

[ after todomatsu dies in front of everyone, he's giving her a piggyback ride to her room. ]

Rosamund... are you feeling any better? [ did throwing up 500 petals help ]

[rosebleed]

A little...

[Healthy purging. Some of the many water and bread are finally kicking in. She's still slung indelicately across his back though.]

Thanks for carrying me.

WEEK 7: Saturday

[rosebleed]

[ignores the dire need to tag back the other one

There's a lot of rubble to clear. Rosamund's set to work on clearing up the parks, gathering fallen branches and tossed picnic paraphenalia, checking for injured animals. She waves to Sidon when she sees him approaching. Bright at first, then a touch nervous.]

H-hey! I missed seeing you earlier!

[After everything went crazy.]

[polliwog]

[ he can help check on the critters, oh no... but first, greetings. ]

Rosamund!

[ there's a bit of that worrying energy again on his end, but it's just concern. when he greets her, it's with a quick peck to her hair, where a briar won't stick his cheek. ]

You're all right? I'm sorry, we were scattered to go man those cannons.