grimmdark | One Knitted Sweater

A. Phone. Early Morning. Unfiltered.

[It's not that Rose is an early bird. She's a rather regular bird, if the metaphor lends itself for such uses, but she wasn't supposed to be sleeping. Dave was supposed to be sleeping and waking up later, as per the effect she expected to cause after that yarn ball throw. Still, she was the one waking up in a place that was most definitely not Derse, unless they had suddenly populated the place with a completely outdated series of identical suburban houses.]

I seem to find myself in quite the predicament. On one hand, I have the imperative necessity to return to my duties, as they played a rather critical role yet to be defined. In the other hand, though, I am called by the Great Outdoors, as this new locale pleads to be explored.

But before I devote myself to that enterprise I would like to ask for further instructions regarding the nature of this place.

[For the record, Rose sounds as if someone had done something of the magnitude of using all the sugar in the kitchen, not displacing her through time and space. She's really playing it cool here.]

B. Streets of Mayfield, Afternoon.

[And so Rose traverses the streets, sometimes silent, sometimes barely humming a tune, but always keeping an eye on everything. She doesn't even bother with the drones, leave alone the adult ones, but rather focus on those that have a certain shine in their eyes the canon fodder lacks. To them she gives more examination time, although she won't really engage in a conversation by her own initiative. Not until she has managed to get the upper hand in this place. Or in its default, to have lost her patience, whatever happens first.

But yeah she's wandering around, go bother her.]

C. Mayfield High. Fashionably Late.

[Like the coolest teenager, Rose arrives late to school...and goes directly to the yard, where she sits somewhere calm and with shade. The day has been too exciting -or rather, mildly exciting- to enter the classrooms; she'll have time to do that later. But it's a good time to have a chat with her fellow classmates, perhaps?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're... taking this really well. You sure you're alright?

An understandable reaction, I suppose.

Would it make more sense to you that I flail and shriek in the face of the unknown? Because I truly don't know of other way to proceed.

Sorry! I'm just surprised, usually people are at least angry.

But yeah, this place is called Mayfield. There's a bunch of people trapped here, nobody's figured out a way out, don't drink the milk, and expect crazy shit to happen. Those are the biggest things to know.

Shrieking and flailing does not become me. It's unrefined to say the least.

Whatever happened to the lactose?

[Lactose? Who the hell calls it lactose?]

Let me put it this way. When we were forced to drink it? You got anything from mood swings afterwards to razor blades in the milk to poison so bad you were dead within two hours.

So yeah, don't drink the milk.

Then it's obvious hat the milk? It's not milk, but something else that looks like milk.

I won't drink from the milk carton. Or bottle, as it might seem to be case.

[Yeah, it makes perfect sense.]

Any other piece of advice you have to spare?

You have to go to school at least once every few days or you get turned into... uh, basically a mindless zombie? Everyone calls them drones - people that act like they've been here their whole lives.

Also the post office isn't worth it.

Memory erasure and indoctrination? Sounds like this place has a rather strict way to enforce its lineaments.

What's not worth of a post office? Although it's obvious correspondence is not going anywhere anytime soon.

At Mayfield's post office, you can make trades to get back stuff from wherever you came from. But it's a high price - I've heard of people losing memories, or limbs.

That most certainly sounds like a terribly short sighted plan if one is expected to remain trapped for an unknown period of time. I shall keep that in consideration.

Do you have a name, by chance?

Oh, right!

I'm Yosuke. Yosuke Hanamura. You?

Rose Lalonde.

I don't recall ever meeting someone from Japan. It's interesting I would have to end here for this to happen.

Nice to meet you, Rosa. Sorry your first isn't someone more exciting - I'm more or less a regular Japanese guy.

Rose. Is short enough to keep it from senseless modifications.

Nobody is more or less regular; that is but a defense mechanism.

Rose, right! Sorry, I must have heard it wrong.

How about this - I'm a regular guy aside from all the crazy insane stuff that makes me not regular.

Very well.

That's a contradiction and you know it.

Then I'll explain it sometime when you're not so eager to get out and explore. Oh, right! Stay away from the milk factory and the mayor's house.

And now it sounds like avoidance as well, but it is too early in the morning for me to properly set shop, so I'll let it slip for now.

The milk factory, all things considered, was a dead giveaway as far as for the "places from which to stay out" list goes, but I am honestly surprised to hear there is such a thing as the Major's house. Must I suppose that the inhabitants of such a place are drones as well?

The mayor is... a special case. I don't know what he is, outside of an asshole, and an enemy.

Well, I suppose that for the time being I have your word only to judge my future decisions.

I don't see why I would want to interact with anyone remotely related to our captor or captors anyway.

The police chief is the same way too. And the milkman, but I'm sure you've figured that one out already.

If you want more information, there's a pamphlet out there with a lot more than I can remember off the top of my head. Ask the librarian for it, okay?

Fortunately for me, authority figures have never meant much to my immediate interests.

Recompiled information? I will be certain to get one for myself, thank you.

Anytime!

Stay safe out there, alright Rose? And stop by the record store sometime to say hi, that's where I work.

Record store, sounds like the kind of place a friend I have would go. Maybe I'll show up, just to check how it is.

The music here is all pretty old - by my standards anyway - but not all old music is bad. I'll put on some good tunes for you when you drop by.

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