rosamund babygirl

[egodist]

a shitpost will go here when i'm not at work

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week zero, monday

[egodist]

[well, you're probably minding your own business, having a little walk throughout the ship.

and then it hits! with your next breath, there is a sudden, debilitating pain that rattles throughout your system. it starts in your chest and then spreads throughout your body, setting every nerve aflame as though every inch of you is being stabbed. the pain is constant, no alleviation, just a new burst of it with every breath you take.

and then the flickers disappears.


and scien is about three feet away, playing tetris on his I.R.I.S. one-handed. he actually looks like he's having a really good time ]

this smug ass icon....i punch him

[rosebleed]

[There's a difference between the pain you know and the pain you don't. Rosamund stops in her tracks at once, bracing against the wall. Sweat beads at her temple and she breathes heavily, patting her midriff with her free hand. There's no new wound. Nothing. Just a sudden and inexplicable onslaught. A spell?

Then it's gone. She waits, hunched. Slowing her breathing down. Remembering how odd this day has been. Catching stray thoughts, stray feelings. Was this a more advanced effect?

What the hell was going on?

She glances around. Regrettably, the only familiar soul around is the one she's been dreading to meet again. Rosamund swallows, rises to compose herself. He's a healer of some kind. Maybe...]

Mr. Scien?

[She's still pale, blinking to catch up with reality.]

WEEK 0: First Friday

[rosebleed]

[It would be wonderful to not understand what this means. So much of the terminology and traditions have flitted well past her head, there's ample room for mistake.

After last night, she has no such luxury. Luke had hit the ground in a fit unlike the rest, and when they woke he was gone. So was Dahut.

She barely knows either of them. Knew.

At least one person could say different.

Rosamund draws near Scien, apprehensive, eyes burning. She hasn't cried yet. It's too horrifying to even try.]

Scien.

[egodist]

[the simple fact of the matter is that scien is a mess. he's been a mess this entire time, but dahut helped put him in a presentable state. his clothes are even more mussed than usual, his hair fallen out of its braid, and expression haggard despite the fact that they'd all fallen asleep and just awoken.

his emotions—those are the oddities. for such an emotionless man, the bewilderment, frustration, and dissatisfaction would be enough. but it is accompanied by this slow, building sense of anger. it grows and grows into a crescendo to the point that it's nearly overwhelming, making it hard to think—and then it stops. stalls. disappears entirely.

before it simply starts to build again. rage repeating itself.

he sets himself to work, examining all the vents and doors of the space that they were in, as if it will help answer anything.]

Make yourself useful to me or work out your emotions elsewhere.

WEEK 0: First Saturday, the day our friendship ended

[rosebleed]

[It's late into the night when she makes her way through the chill of the stasis bay. The door surrenders easily now, and unveils a jailer's cell in the same vein as the coffins behind her. Metal and glass. Dark in spite of the blaring lights, selective in lending their cold sheen over the steel above, below, and all around.

She draws even with Scien. He looks more himself now. She might as well. Her eyes still bear the red rims of tears, and her stare still cuts to the quick.]

...Maybe you were right.

[egodist]

[scien is

horizontal again i'm sorry this man is really splayed out on the ground looking at the ceiling. his emotions are still in that tight little box bundle, but the strongest one that leaks through is this sense of being lost.]

Aren't I always?

[stop]

About what?

week 4, post-mini event

[egodist]

[does the embed this one single time because otherwise i'm too lazy. just trust me that it's pixel shu.

but that's the thing about having similar voices? if rosamund isn't looking directly at him or is occupied with something else, she might find that the one addressing her sounds like someone else entirely. someone who should've already been gone a few weeks ago.]

Yo, Idealist. I got your mail.

THROTTLES YOU

[rosebleed]

[JUMPS IMMEDIATELY.]

What?!

[There is no Scien in the area. Only pixel Shu. Whom she gawps at for another two seconds before answering.]

This...this isn't a very funny joke...

week 4, sunday

[egodist]

[a few hours after rosamund gets settled

scien will just wander over to wherever she is. he knocks on the closest doorframe to get her attention.]

I need to speak with you.

[just makes the announcement and further approaches help me i'm sorry sweet rosamund]

[rosebleed]

[me scanning through locations like hmm what would be good AND THIS PLACE IS JUST INSANE WHY DO WE HAVE A KN*TTING HUT

We're not there by the way this is her in her government assigned pod, already missing her old room. She startles when Scien enters, blinking wide and backing into her bed.]

You do?

WEEK 5: WEDNESDAY

[rosebleed]

[There are rifts a-plenty here.

The one that scoops Scien and Rosamund up now takes them to the interior of a stunning palace. Icy cold, with frosty architecture and a spiralling staircase they've been set at the top of. The head of a beautiful woman with long white hair has been spiked onto the railing, blood frozen mid-drip beneath. Rosamund's shoulders tense at once, and not just from the cold.]

Rosamund, why don't we get you into something warm— who is this?

[There are two women with them. Stunners both, legendary beauties in their own right. The first to speak is a black woman with long braids, clad in glass armor that rends her partially invisible from the neck down, helmet in one arm and a glass shard polearm in the other. The second is deathly pale with blood red lips, dressed in layers on layers of black lace and watching Scien with piercing sunken eyes.]

Um — [Rosamund paints on a cheery face at once.] This is a friend of mine.

But of course. [Says the pale one. She extends a hand for Scien to kiss, her eyes still boring into his as she smiles.] I am the Princess Snow White. And this is my sister in arms, Cinderella. Welcome!

[Rosamund looks to him warmly, but the urgency beneath it cannot be mistaken. Play along.]

[egodist]

[sure a friend. they're....... friends? scien isn't sure if he agrees but there's a lot to this scenario that he doesn't agree with. such as the fact that he is expected to kiss the hand of a princess that he doesn't even know. his expression is even but there's still something in his eyes that's sharp.

he hates royalty. he bows to no one. it's out of some bare minimum consideration for rosamund that he'll even faintly play along with this.

he'll take her hand and bring it up to his mouth to dust the lightest of kisses to the back of her knuckles, and then drop it.]

What a welcome. [mildly] You'll have to excuse me. I'm normally not in the presence of royalty. [by choice] I'll have to let her take the lead.

[rosamund.... do most of the talking or else scien will fucking destroy everything in seconds]

week 5, thursday

[egodist]

[sorry for the boring starter but scien is going to just be sitting somewhere with a book. he's all sorts of cozy, changed into far comfier clothes, a towel around his shoulders, and hair down from its usual braids. he has a warm mug of tea in hand, and he's pulled his sleeves down to sweater paw hold it.... gap moe.

he's truly just going to be keeping to himself so you need to approach him]

[rosebleed]

[he can't pull off gap moe when i've already seen his gross soul.

Anyway she approaches with a plate of fresh cut fruit and veggies, a sweet and savory option from the snack delivery Charles so kindly sent them. She sets it at his side before taking a seat herself, dropping her chin into her hands.]

All dried off now, are we?

WEEK 6: Monday

[rosebleed]

[Drops them in the AFLbst or whatever that jumble of letters is.

Rosamund can be found seated on the floor, cutting through the flesh casings that cover the equipment. She's already freed one camera and a laser, and appears to be liberating a spectrometer with a furrow in her brow and a hunting knife in hand. She strips the flesh away deftly and drops it into a pile at her side, which is when she notices the shadow in the doorway.]

...Oh! Hello.

[She waves with the knife hand, a touch bashful.]

Coming to explore as well?

[egodist]

Taking a break.

[from all his research. he tilts his head looking at what she's doing]

You seem hard at work.

week 6, thursday

[egodist]

[yeets out me starters with reckless abandon.

but scien will be actually found in the gardens instead of any lab! he's found something comfy to wear, and his hair is down and damp again—but at least it's not because he drowned. a blanket is already settled on his shoulders (thanks dahut) and in his sweater pawed hand he has a mug of hot cocoa.....

his gaze fixates on a particular patch of flowers, as if searching for something among them. when he hears footsteps, this time he actually turns his head]

Come to lecture me, Idealist?

[rosebleed]

[Ironically, she might be the one looking worse for wear. She's changed out of her bloodied clothes and she is fresh and clean as usual, but there's clear evidence of a recent sobfest written all over her face.

Wearily:]

What possible good could it do by now? "Hey Scien, kindly stop dying?"

WEEK 6: Friday

[rosebleed]

[She's dressed rather down for her usual today. A knit sweater and a circle skirt, nothing structured or stiff. She's picking her way through a snack in the canteen, but keeps drifting off in thought.

As much as she'd like to take comfort in the lack of murders, there's a mounting dread inside of her. Too much is going their way lately, and the stakes are too high to fail. A very dangerous combination, if past experience has told her anything.

When Scien enters she doesn't do her usual startle, there's no smiles. Just a flick of her eyes and a nod, then back to a humourless study of her tea and biscuits, rubbing at what little of her neck the briars will allow.]

[egodist]

[ . . . .

well.]

You seem gloomy.

[he'll just say it. thanks scien]

week 6, sunday

[egodist]

[soooooo

auction items are unlocked :) which means that in the stasis bay, where scien had been spending a solid amount of his time, he's looking at the now glowing, active, awake reliver machine. it thrums with a foreboding energy and scien is at one of the monitors, running a diagnostics check. when rosamund approaches, he'll look up, but then turn back to the screen even as he speaks to her]

You and I might have more in common soon.

[rosebleed]

[That turns her head. She blinks at him a moment.]

I don't think you'd make a good blonde.

[But okay she'll bite. She draws even with his elbow, peering at the screen and wetting her lips as she reads. Attempts to, anyway.]

What on Earth are you up to now?

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))

[egodist]

[it's a quick trade. scien looks up from wherever he was probably seated—though on this day he possesses two whole arms. already done with his experiment, it seems.

and with that, fully formed emotions. no longer echoes of the true thing, or blurry recollections of feeling. no, instead he watches with a cool distance—but the emotions of understanding, curiosity, and some subtle tone of confusion persist in all their vivid colors.

there is so much still that he fails to understand about love. his own memory shows the same.

“You ruthless, selfish, arrogant god…” ]

WEEK 7: Friday

[rosebleed]

[At some point during the morning, Rosamund tracks him down in a rare moment of reprieve. He's been busy, and she's loathe to pester him further, but time is running out.]

Scien? [She ventures, stepping into the room with a glance back over her shoulder.] Good morning. Um — sorry to bother you, but I've given it some thought. And I would like to accept your offer.

[egodist]

[scien is busy. he's got his IRIS pulled up to show far too many notes, and he seems to be working every second of everyday. when rosamund steps in, he glances up]

Very well.

[as long as it's her choice]

Do you want your back-up made now, or after the approaching battle?

[with the whatever the fuck]

endgame

[egodist]

[she'll just get a text to meet him in the stasis bay. scien is still working, somehow, because he has projects besides what this ship has given him but.

he also has two cups of hot chocolate. he's drinking his, but the other one is untouched. he'll beckon her over]

Come here.

the final one...........god why is it so close to three hundred comments, disgustan

[rosebleed]

[bro it's saturday we're nearly at the day of the lord

She comes of course, washed up and healed (monster cat scratches...), and is pleasantly surprised to find a cup of cocoa waiting for her.]

Oh! How nice! Thank you, Scien.

[She slides into her seat and pulls the mug towards her.]

To what do I owe the pleasure?