Rose, who lives on the barest of means, who speaks gibberish sometimes and who once stuck her fingers in a fire and pulled them out glowing red and next time her fingers were seen they were fine but for faint circles that look like they were left by tentacles? But that’s dumb, there’s not an ocean for miles-
Can we just pretend it’s not completely embarrassing how much I love Rose going grimdark in non-Sburb situations?
Like seriously, why aren’t there more stories with Rose puking up tentacles and slick black bile in shitty apartments and trying to hide the way her hands shake until she really can’t go out at all
only Eridan totally notices how she can’t even speak anymore without gritting her teeth every other word, like there’s something that keeps trying to escape and she has to try so hard to hold it in, and yeah, this dark magic business is bullshit but her moirail isn’t doing shit and someone has to step in so I mean, until her trawling though old bookshops looking for a “cure” somehow leads to her teaming up with this offensively hot computer nerd who’s got like two months until his brain explodes wow, all my ships are just kind of embarrassing, huh?
I’m seriously invested in non-Sburb Rose, particularly a Rose who flirts with the vast unknown- a Rose who, for all her studies into the cosmically horrible, has no actual clue what’s wrong with her. Sometimes she vomits gallons upon gallons of salt water, and it’s only on closer inspection that she find that it’s invested with tiny, pearl-white eggs clumped together in sticky globs. She’s unclean, so horribly, horribly unclean, but nothing can stop the tirades of gibberish and visions. Sometimes, if the lighting is right, she fancies her skin gray and her eyes black, and there’s a stab of horror at how utterly alien she is before she realizes that no, no she is fine. She dabbled in black magic and in return became messenger of the Old Ones, the horrorterrors, but she has no context in which to know them, no reason to suspect they exist aside from the tentacled arms that sometimes thrash and thrive in place of her organs.
Rose Lalonde, a dark and withdrawn curiosity, slowly falling into the dark and brackish waters in which reside the gods she never quite believed in.
also, yeah, Sollux is a staunch-nonbeliever but for the gnawing voices of the soon-to-be-deceased, but that can be chalked up to bipolar tendencies, right? No, it can’t, and he knows that but whatever, he’s got shit to do and this Lalonde girl his a huge headache bigger than his existence and it’s not like she’s attractive or anything
I really have nothing to add to this perfection, I just desperately need it on my blog.