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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waking up in a place that was most definitely not Derse, unless they had suddenly populated the place with a completely outdated series of identical suburban houses.]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?]
[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?]
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[She's being totally polite and stuff! But it's certainly amusing to hear Mika and that strange canine sound.]
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[Mika rubs her eyes and tries not to yawn into the phone. Especially since her yawns tend to have a tiny bit of a whine in them first thing in the morning.]
You just got here, right? What do you want to know? I'll admit, I'm still new around here, but I'll give you what I know anyway if you want it.
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I think those are enough questions to begin with.
Mika ==> Put on nerdy goggles and proceed to TL;DR
This town, for all intents and purposes, seems to be a big playpen for some insane scientist who's using us as some kind of medical/social experiment. The droning business is part of this and is used to keep us all in line and under control. When we misbehave they take it out on us by droning us or having all hell break loose.
Er, sorry about the language. [Noooo she said a bad word around a younger kid noooo bad mika.]
Usually we get our things back in the mail, a piece at a time, after the outbreaks of craziness. Either that or you can go to the post office and request something from home, whether it's a material object or immaterial thing like any magical powers you have. I would highly recommend not requesting anything at the post office. Doing that usually means paying a heavy price for whatever you requested, whether it's memories or giving up a body part or sacrificing the very thing you wanted back. It's not safe and an extremely high gamble, so I've never really seen why it would be worth it to try.
Did that help?
Rose ==> Take notes. ALL THE NOTES
This is all very useful. Thanks...person whose name I should have asked before this all.
And you don't need to worry about the language; by now I'm more than used to see others use way more lewd language in far less serious situations; if you feel more comfortable by speaking in any other way, please do.
So chaos must strike before I can reclaim something for me. Sounds...fair.
Mika ==> Run out of useful things to say. TL;DR anyway.
[She huffs, her ears twitching and her tail waving a little even if no one can see it.]
I try to at least set some good examples where I can.
Pretty much. I'm not quite sure how it works, but I've been through a few bouts of shenanigans and only got my real body back, so I think it's sort of hit-or-miss? Also what we get back seems random for each person, and sometimes it's partial. Like, a person could get their real body back but without any scars. I got my real body back and not only did I have scars, but I had quite a few injuries too. I was set back to the condition I'd been in right before I was snatched. It's a little confusing, you might want to cross-check with someone who's been here longer.
Rose ==> Start psychoanalyzing the helping woman on the background
"Okay"
"Uh-huh" later.]
So if I understand correctly, we have no word on what we obtain, how we obtain it and when we obtain it, with the only constant being the fact that every so or then something will happen in this town, after which we will be "reworded" by whoever has the reins of this faux-town. Even worse, things that were detrimental to use might come back just as well, even though we would do much better without them.
Yes, I think I will make sure to contact someone who has been long enough to experience this to its fullest, but I thank you for your aid, Mika.
And I'm Rose. Rose Lalonde.
Mika ==> Be happy you were useful for once!
[Tailwags! She was helpful!]
Nice to meet you, Miss Lalonde. [The 'miss' seems to be proper when Rose is so verbosely formal.] I hope you get the information you need.
Rose ==> Offer cookie?
I don't think there is much more information to obtain, but I'll see what can be done. I'll be sure to repay your in spades once I manage to settle.
Mika ==> Accept delicious baked goods.
Also they could talk about Lovecraft and H. G. Wells and horror terrors and things and Mika would bake cookies.
The older girl huffs, her tail thumping against the couch cushions.]
I don't need much, I didn't really have too much to offer, I don't think.
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As it might be, everyone is in need of help sooner or later. Know that I will be there to give a hand.
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If I ever need it, I'll be glad to accept it.
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I'm glad you accept it, then. The first step to survive this place is to make proper allies, after all.
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[And subject them into everlasting torture no human soul could survive or pretend to endure was missing but Rose isn't one to point at mistakes like those.]
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[She huffs, her tail wagging as she's feeling pleased with herself.]