Princess Rosella of Daventry

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

I suppose there really isn't a great deal to be said about the past few curses we've had lately, other than to acknowledge that they were just as ridiculous as they always are, and to be thankful that it all seems to have blown over now. I hope everyone can be as understanding as possible in the aftermath--after all, the hardest curses to forgive really are the ones that need it most. I'm doing my best to be as understanding as I can be, too.

Oh, which reminds me--Sparrow, I'm not certain if it really was a fair trade, a yam and some other things in exchange for your movie, so if you'd like it back, I'll be happy to return it to you. But if it's all the same to you, I'd really rather like to keep it, if I may. I think I'm going to make a day of watching movies tomorrow, and this one looks wonderfully fun.

And, er, I know this is a rather odd question to ask, but it's been on my mind lately, so I thought I'd...well. It couldn't hurt to ask, I suppose, if anyone is willing to indulge me a little. There's...no real reason for my asking, other than that it's just something I'd like to hear:

What is your best friend like, City?


[OOC: So tomorrow marks the anniversary of Sam Witwicky's departure, and therefore one year Rosella's spent without her best friend in the City. Hence the curiosity. Also, my dreams have come true and she's acquired a VHS of Mary Poppins, which she'll be viewing tomorrow along with Sam's old copy of Transformers in memory. Good stuff! Bodice-ripper? What bodice ripper. DENIAL IS NOT JUST A RIVER IN EGYPT. What shenanigans will ensue from this? Only time will tell!]

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

[Filtered AWAY from the Deities | Attempted Unhackable]

I'm sure most everyone has noticed by now the carousel animals' recent habit of jumping off their posts and stampeding throughout the City. It's an unexpected occurrence, I think, but hardly a surprising one at this point. It's May, after all, and strange things always seem to happen in the month of May, just as October tends to be a particularly horrifying month when it comes to the curses.

Still, I think this May is turning out to be much different than the ones I've seen before it. It isn't the first time I've ever heard the clock wind down into silence, and it's not the first time I've seen the animals leave the carousel and attack the passerby. What is different, though, is how long things have gone on--and how quiet the deities have been in response to it. Horrible things have happened before, but it's strange that the deities have been so silent. Moreover, they haven't stepped in to intervene this time, as they sometimes have in the past. Last year they fairly finished off the shepherdess for us, and spent a certain amount of time talking amongst themselves about her, as well. But this year there's nothing, and there haven't been any unusual invaders the way there have been in previous years; on the contrary, it almost seems as though this year the City itself is acting to cause the mischief.

It seems clear, though, that the deities aren't willing to step in this time. They left us to manage the problem of the barrier for ourselves, and it seems as though they plan to do the same for the clock and whatever else might be tied to it.

Two words have shown up now, since this trouble seemed to begin--"death", and "IECENVDE", which we think might unscramble into the word "evidence". Death and evidence could point to any number of things, really: to blood, to wounds, to the graveyard, or to the dead in the City themselves. Blood and wounds, of course, are evidence of death on their own; a graveyard is evidence of death because it's where the dead are laid to rest, and where those places are marked with headstones. And it doesn't seem to make much sense, having a graveyard at all in a place where the dead are made to live again, but it's played a role in a few times of trouble before this--once when people that tried to escape the City were put into graves instead, and another time when it filled with all new gravestones, ones that bore the names of visitors that had come to see us, and digging down into the graves only led to a set of catacombs beneath the graveyard itself.

And then there are the dead in the City, who can't help but be evidence of death just by existing here. Adrastus's mother once suggested that she was the one who paid for the dead in the City, who gave them the chance and ability to live again here. And the first time I met her was just around two years ago this month, when she came to collect Adrastus in the beginning of May.

It's hard to say, with all this in mind, what might be going on. Whatever it is, it's certainly not a series of events we've seen before, though bits and pieces of it have shown up in other places here and there--the clock stopping, the harpies, the carousel animals. And all in the early days of May.

But I think what's becoming clearest of all is that things can't go on like this, and something will have to be done because the deities certainly don't seem inclined to do it for us. There was a second way of restoring the barrier, after the first came down; what's to say there isn't a similar way of restarting the clock, if we can only find it? That seems to be the problem most at hand; if the City revolves around the clock and it's the City that's against us at the moment, then perhaps mending the clock will also mend the City. Perhaps that's the thorn in the lion's paw that only needs to come out for things to resolve themselves again. But I can't face that clock, I can't--

Which I suppose, at the risk of mixing my fables, leaves just one question: who, then, will bell the cat?


[OOC: Bzns has officially become srs. Anybody with information about the Omens Plot who wants to get together and chat it out, consider this an open forum to do so! Threadjack, talk amongst yourselves, whatever. Rosella, for her part, is still suffering from phantom pains and is fixin' to get that clock fixed; if she answers you in voice or video, feel free to notice she sounds rather strained and tense. o/]

( What immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry? )

~
[Accidental Video | Open Action]

[It's late afternoon, dwindling into early evening, that finds Rosella in the Turnabout Cafe, seated at a table near a window and carefully sipping at a hot drink. Oddly, there's a bit of dirt and mud on the skirt of her otherwise neat dress--not near the hems, where one might expect it from some casual walking, but further up and streaked around where her knees would fall, as though she'd been kneeling on it somewhere outdoors. To anyone who knows her merely in passing, she seems normal and content as she drinks her beverage; for the people who know her well, it's a bit more obvious that something has rattled her. It's something about the eyes, the shoulders--she's decidedly more fidgety than usual as she talks to herself, the words almost too low to hear.]

...who lived upon a barge; in fact he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large...

[She sips her drink, and looks out the window, and drums her fingers on the table as her lips keep moving, absently, repeating the lines of some rhyme or another she's nearly forgotten and trying valiantly to recall.]


[OOC: Please assume this is backdated a few hours! And so the Iconomancy plot marches on. The first part is a solo log and merely there for reference; the second part is open action for anyone who wants it, and Network for everyone else.]

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

Last year, Penny told me that the holiday today is St. Patrick's Day, and that it's celebrated with all sorts of things, like green beer and shamrocks and four-leaf-clovers. It's a holiday I'll have to take back with me to Daventry, I think, when it finally comes time for me to go; I'm sure the King of the Leprechauns would be absolutely delighted by it. They're very fond of four-leaf-clovers, leprechauns, and the king in particular is quite partial to them. We'd always make certain to wear them when he came to call, back when I was only a girl.

He was rather fond of me, too, back in those days. I have a feeling it was something to do with the fact that we were the same height.

Though I've heard tell of people being pinched today, and it's something to do with the color green? I suppose that's not so difficult a thing to avoid, really, if all one has to do is wear a bit of green. Tuck a clover into one's cap or tie a ribbon in one's hair and that's that. I have a few green dresses I could wear, myself, but I haven't met my resolution of wearing a modern outfit yet this month, so I suppose I might as well manage both at once today, just the same. I'm growing quite attached to those sweaters with the hood and the zipper down the front, even if they don't go very well with a dress.

Only four more days until the first of spring! If that's not something to look forward to, I don't know what is. The party's coming along well, too, or at least as well as I can make it; it may not be the grandest of events, but I think it'll turn out nice, just the same.

[Filtered AWAY from the Deities | Attempted Unhackable]

But of course, there's still the matter of the tower near Building Three.

There's sand everywhere now, and unlike some other times when damage has been caused to a part of the City, it hasn't gone away on its own. I'm told that people found writing inside the tower, as well? The verses to a song about a bridge falling down, I think--which isn't so different from a tower falling, really. I'm also told that there's talk in those verses about how to build the tower back up again, to keep it from falling further. If that's so, I think it'd be wise if we all set about getting some of those materials together, in case this wasn't the only building that should chance to turn to sand and fall.

But that leads to the problem of what might've caused it. Has anyone spoken with a little creature named Iacho? He was on the Network playing with a sand castle just the other day, and he told me he lives in the Deity Building--which, I think, is a few too many coincidences to truly be one.

To say nothing of the fact that the tower fell on the Ides of March. I do wonder about that, as well.


[OOC: Whew! My apologies for the infodump; Rosella had a lot to talk about today. Yes, she is wearing green and therefore is safe from pinching, because she actually bothered to read the Network in advance for once. FRIENDS OF HERS, please feel free to assume you received an invitation to her birthday first-of-spring party this coming Monday; if you've spoken with her once or twice, you probably qualify. Also, if memory serves, there's really no such thing as filtering away from the deities on the Network, but she's trying it anyway. ♥]

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[Accidental Voice Post]

[The snowy weather may be tapering off, but there's still plenty of it on the ground, which would explain the muffled crunching of footsteps through fallen snow that begins the audio. Fabric whispers over the microphone, most likely from the pocket the device has been slipped into; by all accounts, it's fairly clear that this recording is an accidental one. The noises continue for a short while, then slowly fade into silence--which makes way for the faint sound of water somewhere nearby to come through.]

Hello, Ellington. It's certainly been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry I haven't come to visit you more often. I'll be better about it when it's not so cold out, I promise.

[Fabric rustles again, and the device clicks against something solid.]

You're all right, though, aren't you?

[Silence and waves.]

I'm all right, too.

[More rustling, as hands slip into pockets, shuffling for something or another, and then a moment later a match strikes. A beat passes, and then a short whistle of breath follows, presumably to blow the flame out.]

I still don't know how many it ought to be, you know. But even if I did, I don't think I would've been able to find that many candles for it, anyway, much less fit them all on.

[A soft laugh, another rustle, and then a piccolo gently pipes out the notes to "Happy Birthday", which seem to drift in the chilly air until, just before the last note is played--the audio ends.]

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

Oh, it's Christmas again! Merry Christmas, everyone!

Goodness, just look at the weather outside! It's certainly not the same weather we had last year--as I recall, it was beautiful and snowy and white that day, and I was so excited because there wasn't a curse in sight--but it does seem to be traditional to have a bit of summer in the middle of winter here, doesn't it? And Christmas is as fine a day as any to have it, I should think. There won't be any snowball fights or skating on the ice, I'm afraid, but perhaps skating along the ground on wheels will work just as well, and I'm sure there are plenty of other fine things to do on a lovely summer's day in December. Wouldn't you agree, Cain?

Valor will be pleased about all this, I'm sure. I'd planned to go sleighing today and visit everyone I know, but with the sun shining so brightly and not a bit of snow in sight, I suppose I'll just have to go for a ride instead, and I'm sure that will do just as well. That was always tradition on Christmas in Daventry--going around to visit everyone and wish them a merry Christmas in person. But of course, we always had snow for it ourselves, and never any weather like this.

Oh, and, speaking of traditions...Nigel, Miss Saya, I put your gifts under the tree in the Warehouse, if you'd like to open them all together? It's...it used to be tradition, in my past Christmases here, and I'd like very much to continue it with the both of you, if you think you'd like that as well.

Merry Christmas, everyone! And I do very much hope your holiday is merry and bright.

( OOC: Gift List )

[OOC: Gift list of DOOM is underneath the cut! And Rosella went a little crazy with gifts this year, so if you've talked to her, like...more than once in the past month or two, be sure to check this list and see if you're on it. And as usual, all friends and acquaintances get a plate of home-baked cookies to munch on in their holiday season. Merry Christmas, Poly!]

[Accidental Video Post]

[It's just a bit past noon when the video flickers on--then off--then on again, wobbling in and out of darkness before finally bringing into focus the sight of a train compartment, and a slightly rumpled-looking girl sitting on the soft blue cushions, gazing intently out the window. Her own silence makes the noises of the train around her more pronounced--the rattling, the clanking, the whispering rush of air--and careful observers may notice that this girl's face is a shade paler than it normally would be, that her fingers are twisting in the fabric of her skirt in rhythm with the noise.

She hates this, the roar of the engines, the hum of machinery. There's a reason she never goes down to use the subway system beneath the City, even if it means a much longer walk above ground to get to the same place. There's a reason she has avoided this at all costs. She hates it here, buried underground in these tunnels, surrounded by the sound of the machines she loathes so much.

Her fingers twist again, the knuckles turning white, and the video dissolves into static.

But then, a few seconds later, it flickers back in again, and now Rosella's hand is pressed against the glass of the window as she leans toward it, as if that extra few inches will somehow give her a clearer look at--whatever it is she sees. Her voice, when she speaks, is quiet--and a little anxious.]

It's...it's a trick. It can't-- [A crackle of static; the video flickers.] --al. Can it? No, it can't, it's not...

[She slides closer, both hands cupped against the window now, her face pressed close with her fingers curled to reduce the glare off of the glass.]

They did this last ye-- [Static. But a bit of audio filters through, even if the video is still obscured.] --re we going?

[And then, after another few seconds, the video clicks on again--just in time to see a faint shape, deathly white, SLAM against the window from the outside of the train, and to witness Rosella jumping a mile at the sight, recoiling with a shriek that is half from surprise and half from horror.

Another flicker of the video, and now she is curled on the bench with her knees pulled to her chest, her hands over her ears, and she is mumbling frantically under her breath.]

It has to stop sometime. It has to stop. It always stops, don't look, don't-- [Static.] --ere, it's fine, it's fine, there's nothing there, it's nothing, it's--

[The train rattles, the door creaks, and the video flickers once--twice--and then finally cuts out.]


( OOC TL;DR )

[And mods, if I've gotten any of this wrong, please let me know and I'll fix it. o/]

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

There, and that's another of those silly random weekends come to an end. We've been having them quite a long time, haven't we? At least a year and a half, I think it must be. I know it's less than two years, though, since I've been here two years and I can still remember a time when we weren't having them every month, but it really has been quite some time now since they've started coming along. And I suppose they're nice, in their own way, since the curses we get on those weekends tend to be mostly harmless ones, and then we always know that the Monday afterward will be free of them, since we've just spent a whole weekend acting silly.

Goodness knows I certainly was, running around writing my name on everything I owned--or simply thought I owned, even, which wasn't always the case. And I'm sorry to anyone I might've, er, tried to mark yesterday, in my rush to get everything labeled. If I did get to you, I hope you've managed to wash the ink off by now, and that I wasn't too much of a bother yesterday when I was trying to get all that done.

I don't think I've ever had that curse before, honestly. It's usually much more likely I'll find myself turned into a child or a bird for the weekend, which is usually a bit troublesome but mostly manageable. And this one was mostly manageable, too, but it does make for some interesting questions, doesn't it? After all, we usually write our names on things that are important to us, that we want to keep for ourselves, and that's why we mark them as our own. It helps keep them from getting lost, having a name on them, because then if they do and someone else finds them, they know who to return it to. Putting a name on something lets people know who it belongs to.

But it's silly to write your name on everything that's yours, and it's even sillier to try to do it to other people, instead of just possessions. For one thing, writing your name on something might spoil it rather than helping it--like trying to pen your name on a white cat, for instance. Or it might only be a waste of ink, since sometimes things are lost and can't be returned, no matter how much we may want them back.

Still...I think there are other ways of writing our names on people, even if we don't do it with ink, and more lasting places to do it than on their skin. In a certain way, I think that's rather what it means to be friends, even--because friends have a funny way of making their mark on you, and changing you for the better, and I think that's a much better way of going about it than writing all over them, anyway.


[OOC: So yesterday, Rosella found herself hit with the Mine Mine Mine curse, and spent the day running around writing her name on everything she owned. Which, all things considered, was quite a lot of writing. And now she's got to wash it all off again, too--but hey, at least it's giving her some quality time to think? Friends of hers, if you want to assume she got to you yesterday, feel free! Otherwise, she'll just be cleaning up the contents of the Warehouse. :D]

[Accidental Video Post]

[The video opens with the sound of a click, revealing a lopsided view of what appears to be a bedroom--and Rosella, on her hands and knees, peering beneath the bed. Her hair is fanned out behind her in a curling mass of gold, a sharp contrast to both her blue dress and the carpet beneath her. However, there is something strange about the scene: anyone who knows Rosella will be able to identify at once that this is not her own bedroom, since the floor is actually visible, and her surroundings are neat and tidy. Sitting nearby, partially obscuring the frame, sits a brown basket with a blue ribbon tied around the handle and a few fuzzy-looking towels and sheets inside.]

There you are. You remember me, don't you? Yes, of course you do, it's just me, see? It's just me. Now come here, Snowdrop. Come here...

[She reaches a little farther under the bed, making a faint noise of frustration.]

Please come here? I know, I'm sorry, it's been--it's been days, I'm sorry, but I was cursed and acting quite silly and I didn't know any better, or I would've been here much sooner. Snowdrop, come here, come on...

[But gradually, she stops reaching, and instead just sits still and looks under the bed, apparently watching something.]

I'm sorry, but you have to come with me. I have to take you home with me, Snowdrop. Please come out? I know you like it here much better, but...but Blue isn't here to take care of you anymore. And that means that now you've got to...to come live with me, instead. Please? And Prince, too, we'll bring him back with us, we won't forget him. I'll remember. I'll...

Please come here, Snowdrop? I know it won't be the same without Blue looking after you, and that you're...going to miss him, so much, so very much...

[Slowly, Rosella sinks from her hands and knees to the ground, now lying on her side with her head resting against the floor and one arm still stretched beneath the bed.]

Please come out. We have to go home, Snowdrop...to the Warehouse, I mean. You have to come back with me. I promised Blue I'd look after you, and I can't look after you if you won't come out. We can't just stay here...we have to go home, so you have to come out. We can't stay here forever. We have to go home. We can't...can't...

[She slowly trails off, going quiet and hardly moving, just lying still half-curled on the floor.]

I know how much you're going to miss them, Snowdrop...

[And after another few seconds of silence, the feed ends.]


[OOC: So Blue went home on Monday, and thanks to the High School curse following immediately afterward, Rosella hasn't had to actually face that reality until now. Sob, two of her dearest friends in three months, poor kid. Feel free to recognize Blue's apartment or the fact that the cat she's projecting her sadness onto is Alice's, and put two and two together from there!

Also, for anyone interested, my HMD thread is here!]

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

One of the first lessons I ever learned in this City was about the importance of understanding. In a place like this, with so many people from so many different places, it's easy to find ourselves caught in the middle of misunderstandings simply because we see things in different ways, and because we've all had different experiences that have shaped the way we approach things now. A word from one place might be the same word in another, but the two words might have completely different meanings. A reality in one place might be nothing more than a story in another. A monster in one world might not be a monster in the next.

The curses bring about a lot of misunderstandings, too. That's the whole point of them, really, to make us do things we normally wouldn't, and to try to make us miserable because of it. And oftentimes, they succeed--especially so with curses like this. The ones that make us act differently are the ones that are hardest to be understanding about, both during and afterward, because they turn us into people we're not, make us do things we wouldn't, make us hurt people we ordinarily love. These sorts of curses are some of the worst to endure, and the hardest to forgive.

And yet, these are the ones when forgiveness is needed the most.

I'm still not certain yet if yesterday's curse really ended at midnight, or if it's decided to persist through today as well. Last year this sort of thing ended at the stroke of midnight, and in a rather humiliating way for everyone concerned. This year, it's much harder to tell.

However, when it finally does come to an end, I hope that we can all find it within ourselves to be understanding about the circumstances, and to be open to the people we've hurt, and to forgive the things we said and did when we couldn't help ourselves. And it's a duty that both people need to engage in--the people that were hurt need to find the strength to forgive, and to not hold those actions against the person that hurt them, and the person that was cursed needs to do the responsible thing and ask forgiveness for the things they did, and apologize for hurting their friend, even if they couldn't help it at the time.

I'd hate to see more friendships needlessly ruined over something as silly as a curse.

I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I won't be coming in to the Library to help today. I'm feeling a bit under the weather, and so I think I'll be staying in and getting some rest until I start feeling a bit more like myself.


[OOC: My, Rosella's certainly putting on a brave face for someone who found a human heart on her doorstep yesterday. Sob. She'll just be over here hating this curse and hiding inside her magically-warded Warehouse until the world stops being crazy, thanks. ♥]