devilmind: (Default)
devilmind ([personal profile] devilmind) wrote in [community profile] deernet2022-02-05 02:19 pm

audio -> video | un: 10-0

Hello, everyone.

[ The Operator’s youthful voice is cordial and cautious. Though they aren’t exactly shy, neither are they accustomed to mass communication. Sure, they come from a world replete with advanced technology and they’re familiar with the concept of network communications, but that’s usually handled for them by non-Tenno agents. The Tenno themselves have a reputation to maintain, one that’s about as far removed from diplomacy and idle chatter as one can imagine—the vast majority of people in their system don’t even know they can talk.

But, well, the Tenno certainly don’t have such a reputation here—and there is something the Operator very much wants to know. ]


I understand that this is the time when new Sleepers arrive in Trench. I’ve seen them washing up on the Farther Shores for the past few days.

I’d like to know: how many usually arrive at one time? And how likely is it that those new arrivals have some connection to the people already here?

[ Their tone up to this point has been quite serious and measured, their wording precise. They’re all too aware that this isn’t their usual role and they're doing their very best not to come across as incompetent or rude—or worse, childish. Yet, their even tone falters as they continue. ]

I was also wondering if—if anyone saw a certain person among the new arrivals. She might have looked like a woman with a purple headdress. Or she may have looked like a Sent—

[ They cut themselves off. No one here will know what a “Sentient” is and even if they did, they’d still be better off not hearing it in this context. But how else can they describe what the Lotus looks like? What she is? Words come to mind and they all make the Operator’s stomach churn. Insect. Amalgam. Monster.

For an instant, they bury their hot face in their hands, wanting nothing more than to disintegrate into the Void rather than to hear another word from themself. Then, they sigh, short and angry, and switch to the video setting on their Omni, propping it up to face them. Their surroundings show stone walls, flickering with firelight.

The video broadcast lasts mere seconds. The Operator, glaring at the Omni with luminous golden eyes, folds their hands in front of their chest as if in prayer. ]


Like this.

[ Then they reach once more for the Omni, and their broadcast ends. ]
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (— 106)

video | un: Da Silva

[personal profile] rosae 2022-02-05 10:32 pm (UTC)(link)
( She recognises them well before the switch to video; Rose remembers voices, particularly ones that are so clearly youthful. For three months she's been absorbing voices: listening out for any sign of her daughter's fairy-lilted sweetness amongst the audio messages that stream into this place. It's given her something of an extra ear for such things, perhaps, a focus on subtle things that others might easily look over.

She turns her own Omni to video, exposing her face. Her wintery meeting with the golden-eyed child had been brief and almost dream-like (the shore feels that way to her, a door between worlds), but she certainly hasn't forgotten them. They've joined the ranks of the many young ones in this place whom Rose frets over, hopes to encounter again.

And now she has. )


Hello again. ( It's said with an easy smile, warm, but she can't quite hide the little ache there in her eyes. They're looking for someone they know, asking the same questions she'd been wondering. It makes her heart hurt. )

I'm not sure how many arrive at a time, but.... I was told it isn't likely that someone from my world would arrive here. She did anyway. And I've heard others mention people from their worlds showing up, too.

( She doesn't want to give the child false hope, but.... hope is something Rose has clung onto time and time again; it's a precious thing. She wants to give them some of it, too. Her smile softens, reassuring. )

I haven't seen a woman like that, but I'll look for her. Is there a name I should call her?
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (Default)

[personal profile] rosae 2022-02-08 12:38 am (UTC)(link)
( Rose can see the frustration — the way it presents itself childlike, youthful in a way that ripples within her comfortably, makes her feel fond. Nostalgic even, for some random memory or other of Sharon upset about something. A math problem she couldn't make sense of, a toy she couldn't find. Rose would smooth her hand through her adopted daughter's long dark hair, kiss her forehead. )

It's all right, ( she says, and she means it, her smile simply warming in response, conversational. ) Sometimes it's hard to explain something. Put it from thought to word... I definitely know what that's like.

( Especially now, her world being something that involves parts and pieces that couldn't possibly be transcribed. They can only be thought, like a dream, or a nightmare. )

Lotus... like the flower. That's such a beautiful word. ( Their gesture of folded hands does mean something to her understanding and experience, and she wonders if it's the same for their world, though perhaps not, if they aren't able to word it that way. Still, she asks gently, as though trying to help coax thought— )

Natah — when she's praying? Is that what it means?

Thank you. It's my daughter. I've been searching for her ever since I woke up here.
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (— 054)

cw: mention of religious themes / figures ; religious doubt

[personal profile] rosae 2022-02-10 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
( So "praying" is an act that exists in their world, as well. Rose nods thoughtfully, a soft frown touching at her mouth as she listens to the child's words. Trapped.... made to kneel with hands folded. Sad.

It... sounds sad. It makes her feel sad. Rose's frown deepens, watching their dipped golden eyes, wondering just what this child has known. What this woman is to them. What... happened to her. )


Something else makes her do it? This... ( Rose slowly imitates the folded-hands gesture then, and she realises abruptly, with a strange pang, that she has not prayed since she left Silent Hill. Despite the locket that remains around her neck even now (the one with the Virgin Mary's visage upon it, the figure that had always brought her such intimate comfort), Rose has not prayed. She used to, all the time. On her knees, hands folded just like this, whispering — though rarely to God, Himself. It was always Mary she felt a connection to. The Mother.

But after seeing what happened to that little girl in that place, there hasn't been much... room inside of Rose, for what used to bring her comfort. She's not even sure she believes in God, anymore.

....Her eyelids flutter softly, and she swallows, slowly lowering her hands from the position. )


Can she escape it....? Whatever's.... making her do it? ( She seems disturbed by the concept, that frown spreading to her eyes. )
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (Default)

[personal profile] rosae 2022-02-16 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
( That frustration is, once again, quite clear — and Rose knows that particular type of frustration. The 'I don't know' in face of questions you don't have the answers to. She's been full of questions of her own and no one can help her— not really. It's a loneliness, an ache, a horror, an anger. Unfair.

She studies their face thoughtfully, sadly, wishing she could provide more. Help more. )


I promise, I'll look for her.

( She will; it's become a way of life for her, even if the person she's been searching for has been found. Now her role is to help others find their lost ones, and Rose possesses a certain relentlessness there; she'll absolutely be asking shop-owners and passerby if they've seen a woman of this description. If there's a chance this child can find someone from their home world, she'll do whatever she can to make that possible.

—A pause, and then her tone lightens, a little smile touching her mouth — an attempt at something a bit light-hearted, even if she very much means it. )


My name's Rose, so it seems kind of fitting for me to find a Lotus, doesn't it?
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (Default)

[personal profile] rosae 2022-02-27 01:11 am (UTC)(link)
( It's not impossible; Rose is sure of that and she's certainly a testament to it. She may not quite understand the rules of this place, what logic it runs off of, but that only means she stays open to the possibility that anything could happen. And her daughter came here for a reason.

Maybe their Lotus will, too. )


It's nice to meet you, Tenno. ( Her smiles brightens a little, happy to have a name to refer to them as. She hadn't gotten to ask last time on that dreamlike, snowy beach-scape. )

Are you doing all right here, otherwise? Have you found a safe place to stay?
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (Default)

[personal profile] rosae 2022-02-28 05:05 pm (UTC)(link)
( "Calm" is a strange word to hear used to describe this place. It's... telling of what sort of world they might have come from.

Rose's smile is settling into something a bit more somber, thoughtful — worried, in her way. She does worry about what the children here might've once known. She's met some with all manner of capability (and responsibility, as a result.) There's even a boy here who was in training to be a "hero", who knows things children possibly shouldn't.

That nudge of worry suddenly finds a new form at what they say next. Rose blinks, looking visibly taken aback by that. )


There's a church here?

( When she'd first arrived, it's what she'd looked for first: a church, thinking this place was surely the work of the Brethren. That they had her child again. She hadn't been able to locate one and nobody mentioned any other places of worship.

Alarm pinches within her, tight and sharp and unpleasant. )


Is it— are there other people there?
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (Default)

cw: fire-related horror / imagery

[personal profile] rosae 2022-03-05 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
( The Church of the Holy Flame. It's a new title to her, but not at all a new concept. In fact, it's so achingly familiar that for a moment Rose's senses are invaded with memories that are still very fresh, and she feels sick.

Ash upon skin, the way it smeared almost like paint against the tips of the fingers. The smell of perpetual fire: not pleasant, not warm and cosy and comforting. Not even powerful in a beautiful, terrible way, the way the holy fires of God Himself are said to be in the religion she'd always followed.

No, this fire smelled like rot. Like skin and hair burning, endlessly. Like fluids boiling, like tissue curling inwards. That fire was said to cleanse, but all it did was torment. It wasn't something holy. It was pain, and destruction. It was unspeakably cruelty.

For a long moment, Rose is outside of her body, detached from it, numb. They're here, she thinks. They're here, and her daughter isn't safe. Maybe she'll never be safe.

....But it might not be them, and she flutters back into her body again, mouth tipped slightly open. Some ounce of logic hangs on, reminds Rose that she's encountered people here who reminded her of the Brethren and they weren't.

Still...... this is big. This is— she's going to have to address this. Find out more about it, as soon as possible. And.... if Tenno is in some sort of danger here, a thought that rests like a stone in the base of her throat, makes it hard to get proper breath. It may be this one woman for now, but what if the rest of them are gathering? What if they hurt Tenno the same way that— )


I'd— like that. To come see it. ( She tries to compose herself a little better; she doesn't want to risk scaring them, or potentially alerting this "Sister Junia" in the process. )

Sometimes churches can be a little... scary. Do you feel safe there?
rosae: ( 𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑨𝑬 ) (Default)

[personal profile] rosae 2022-03-16 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
( Hearing that they feel safe there is, at least, some relief. However, it's hardly an all-consuming one, and certainly not lasting. Rose knows too well what dangers could be lurking beneath seeming kindness, and safety. The stone in her stomach grows, makes her body feel heavier.

But not stagnant. Never that. No, she won't be sitting still, won't be keeping quiet. She'll find out more about this. )


I'll definitely be paying you a visit, in that case. ( She wills a smile, the kind she'd conjure up for Sharon after she had her bad spells at night. Often the little girl would wake up crying, confused, upset — a state that would only be made worse by seeing her parents' upset. Rose learned how to try and smile for her daughter even when she wanted to put her face in her hands and scream. )

Until I see you again, please know that you can always contact me if you ever need to. If you ever need help, or anything at all.