[Log] White Rooms Who: Sophie Hatter When: June 14th Where: Commons What: Sophie does her cleaning and has a little accident. She ends up in a very odd place indeed. Open or Closed: Closed Observable: No
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Sophie stretched up to clean off the top of the bookshelf. She’d rather the drones didn’t try to do this kind of work. They’d end up hurting themselves, but she was limber enough to didn’t bother her at all.
Not one bit.
“Get out of my way, blasted spiders,” Sophie snarled.These spiders would have pleased Howl. They were large, black, and had neon glowing designs on their abdomens. Sophie was too frightened to touch their webs, but they were fairly obliging when she asked them to move.
“Keep running or I’ll sweep you up!” Sophie cackled at them, which sounded off now that she didn’t have an old woman’s vocal cords. Sophie pondered this as she heard footsteps approaching. She ignored them. She’d learned not everyone here was nice. In fact, some people seemed to dislike her because she was a witch! Imagine that. She’d often distrusted people because of what she’d heard their magic could do, but she’d never disliked someone just because they were a witch.
As she rose up on her toes, Sophie felt her stool wobble. She started to sink her heel back down as she swiped at the last bit of dust, but the stool didn’t wobble this time. It jarred itself out from under her. Sophie shouted and grabbed for the top of the bookshelf. She hand slipped, and she felt one of the spiders crunch under her hand.
Bother, Howl will be furious. Sophie thought as she fell. She saw something out of the corner of her eye--someone running, maybe, then she cracked her head on something. ~ Sophie awoke to find herself on a very cold floor. She opened her eyes and was surprised to see that her head didn’t hurt at all. In fact, she felt very light. She sat up and found herself in a little room. A little girl’s room, she thought.
The room was white with sheer curtains across the window that blew inside the room in soft puffs. The wind brought Sophie the smell of flowers, and the more distant smell of a farm. The little window seat was filled with pastel pillows and a small tabby cat. Sophie blinked and sat up a little more, looking around. There was a little brown dresser, a chest that was probably filled with toys, and a small bed with blue and green sheets. The first pass of the room told her no one was there, but as she glanced back at the window, there was a little girl standing beside it.
The little girl wore a white nightgown with a ribbon around the neck. Her brown curls fell to her shoulder, and she smiled at Sophie as if she’d just received the best present in the world.
“Hi, my name’s Molly. Did you come to play?” The girl asked in a delighted voice. She took a hurried step forward, her bare foot making only the softest “pat” on the floor.
Sophie sat up a little more and looked around again. The room had no door, but the window was open. How, Sophie wondered, did you get into a room with no door. More importantly, how did you get out of it?
“I...I don’t know. I’m not sure where I am or how I got here...” Sophie admitted. She was wary, because she knew things were not always what they looked like.
The little girl smiled. “I brought you here because other people were being mean to you.” The little girl reached out her hand, her wide eyes bright and delighted. “No one ever comes to play with me anymore,” Molly admitted sadly.
While she looked like an innocent little girl, and just a bit like Lettie when she was younger, nothing here had to be what it appeared to be. Sophie was almost certain she’d hit her head, and now she was in a room with no door. That didn’t sit well with her, but it didn’t mean it was Molly’s fault she was here.
At Sophie’s silence, Molly’s face fell. “Don’t you want to play with me?” Tears welled in her eyes.
Sophie sighed and slowly stood up. There was nothing for it. “Of course I do, what are we going to play, Molly?” She would have to find a way out of here while she played with the child. Besides, she couldn’t think of any harm that would come from playing.
Molly beamed and dove for a box. She pulled out two ragdolls, one who looked amazingly like Gin Charlie. “We’re going to play war. You can be the hero. I’ll be the priestess.”
The doll thrust into Sophie’s hands did indeed look like Gin Charlie, thought without the crooked nose. It had his tattoos, but it was missing his collar. Stitched to his hand was a sword--it looked real and it pricked Sophie’s hand when she touched it. Sophie hissed and stuck a finger into her mouth. She tasted blood.
Molly beamed at her, oblivious, and held a small doll that looked like her twin.