[i. artifacts a] gravity it makes no sense to me / but it pulls me just like you do (cw: body horror, moths)
[It starts off as an itch beneath their feathers.
A gorgeous, beaded moth broach, beautiful in design, appears at Rue's vanity one morning and immediately they know it is a gift from Hob. Their beloved has always been generous in that way - small trinkets, sweet compliments, unexpected texts through the day reminding them how dearly they were treasured - but the intricacy and loveliness of this particular piece takes them by surprise.
It reminds them so dearly of their friend Binx, with her moth wings and her cozy court, and Rue has a chic hat it will look absolutely perfect pinned against.
And at first, the broach is only a fashion statement piece, something they delight in seeing whenever they catch their reflection in the mirror, the gleam of shiny wings in blues and greens and soft pinks against their mossy feathers.
But then the itch begins soon after they pin the delicate hat to their feathers and Rue can not stand how they keep having to pause every other moment to scratch themself. And just when they think it can't get worse, after pressing their back into a door frame to get at that terrible itch between their shoulder blades, Rue catches sight of their back in the mirror and notices the tiny pairs of insect wings that have begun to sprout from their body.
Which is precisely why the owlbear has thrown on the most weather-inappropriate coat for this time of the year, grabbing at whoever they can find stalking around the ADI apartments or offices, before dragging them into a private space before addressing them.
Not even a lifetime of perfect, effortless composure can hide the way their beak trembles slightly.]
Pray, I need your help.
[ii. artifacts b] the higher i am the harder into ground i will slam / it will kill me it'll be messy (cw: body horror, moths, intelligence drain, dysphoria)
[The sound of screams isn't exactly unusual in Gloucester, but that doesn't make them any easier to ignore.
It follows Rue with every step, strangers shrieking in outright fear, children bursting into tears, their parents bodily dragging them away from the new abomination stalking down their streets. They call Rue a monster and how can they blame them when they look like this, fluttering insect wings covering their body, their wings, their head, translucent and horrifically beautiful in the sunlight, buzzing around Rue with their constant attempts to fly away.
When Rue is found is up to you, characters can run into Rue just as they are beginning to shed some of their intelligence, trembling and terrified and overwhelmed with the reaction the public is giving them, or they can be found after, an owlbear in a torn dress and dainty hat, prowling the city streets on all fours, fighting for the last shred of humanity within them.]
[iii. artifacts c] here i am planted on the ground and waiting / waiting for it to pull me (cw: talk of the above triggers, hurt/comfort hours)
[It's no surprise that after their delicate, beautiful broach is knocked from their head and crushed to pieces beneath their great paw, that Rue retreats. They hole up in their apartment for nearly a week, unwilling to face anyone while they process through the mess they've made of everything.
A lifetime spent trying to prove that they were so much more than just a beast, all completely swept away in an instant. It's devastating in a way that can't even begin to articulate.
Perhaps their absence is felt. Rue is difficult to miss during the day, especially around the office, cheerful and bright, a big personality who genuinely looks forward to catching up with their coworkers after every weekend. Or perhaps enough unread texts is worrying enough to check in with Rue at home. You may need to let yourself in though, Rue can barely hear the sound of knocking over their own swirling thoughts.]
[iv. wildcard] if my logic isn't sound / what's keeping our feet on the ground?
[ooc: hit me up if you want a personal prompt or anything!! :>)
delloso de la rue | d20 | ota
[It starts off as an itch beneath their feathers.
A gorgeous, beaded moth broach, beautiful in design, appears at Rue's vanity one morning and immediately they know it is a gift from Hob. Their beloved has always been generous in that way - small trinkets, sweet compliments, unexpected texts through the day reminding them how dearly they were treasured - but the intricacy and loveliness of this particular piece takes them by surprise.
It reminds them so dearly of their friend Binx, with her moth wings and her cozy court, and Rue has a chic hat it will look absolutely perfect pinned against.
And at first, the broach is only a fashion statement piece, something they delight in seeing whenever they catch their reflection in the mirror, the gleam of shiny wings in blues and greens and soft pinks against their mossy feathers.
But then the itch begins soon after they pin the delicate hat to their feathers and Rue can not stand how they keep having to pause every other moment to scratch themself. And just when they think it can't get worse, after pressing their back into a door frame to get at that terrible itch between their shoulder blades, Rue catches sight of their back in the mirror and notices the tiny pairs of insect wings that have begun to sprout from their body.
Which is precisely why the owlbear has thrown on the most weather-inappropriate coat for this time of the year, grabbing at whoever they can find stalking around the ADI apartments or offices, before dragging them into a private space before addressing them.
Not even a lifetime of perfect, effortless composure can hide the way their beak trembles slightly.]
Pray, I need your help.
[ii. artifacts b] the higher i am the harder into ground i will slam / it will kill me it'll be messy (cw: body horror, moths, intelligence drain, dysphoria)
[The sound of screams isn't exactly unusual in Gloucester, but that doesn't make them any easier to ignore.
It follows Rue with every step, strangers shrieking in outright fear, children bursting into tears, their parents bodily dragging them away from the new abomination stalking down their streets. They call Rue a monster and how can they blame them when they look like this, fluttering insect wings covering their body, their wings, their head, translucent and horrifically beautiful in the sunlight, buzzing around Rue with their constant attempts to fly away.
When Rue is found is up to you, characters can run into Rue just as they are beginning to shed some of their intelligence, trembling and terrified and overwhelmed with the reaction the public is giving them, or they can be found after, an owlbear in a torn dress and dainty hat, prowling the city streets on all fours, fighting for the last shred of humanity within them.]
[iii. artifacts c] here i am planted on the ground and waiting / waiting for it to pull me (cw: talk of the above triggers, hurt/comfort hours)
[It's no surprise that after their delicate, beautiful broach is knocked from their head and crushed to pieces beneath their great paw, that Rue retreats. They hole up in their apartment for nearly a week, unwilling to face anyone while they process through the mess they've made of everything.
A lifetime spent trying to prove that they were so much more than just a beast, all completely swept away in an instant. It's devastating in a way that can't even begin to articulate.
Perhaps their absence is felt. Rue is difficult to miss during the day, especially around the office, cheerful and bright, a big personality who genuinely looks forward to catching up with their coworkers after every weekend. Or perhaps enough unread texts is worrying enough to check in with Rue at home. You may need to let yourself in though, Rue can barely hear the sound of knocking over their own swirling thoughts.]
[iv. wildcard] if my logic isn't sound / what's keeping our feet on the ground?
[ooc: hit me up if you want a personal prompt or anything!! :>)