Dahlia- Chapter 1

It's been two and a half days now and you still couldn't believe it. All those years, who knows how long you actually spent in there, slaving away. The unbearable heat, the heavy dampness, that retched stench, you'll probably never be able to truly forget your durance under that thing that robbed you of your life. And yet none of that mattered now.

You escaped.

It felt like a one-in-a-million chance, the circumstances that somehow led a mortal into the Hedge and to encounter you. You couldn't see him from where you had hid, but you heard him all to well, screaming as that damned thing dragged him away in your place. You could try to rationalize your choice all you wanted but it still sat like an lead weight in your gut.

But you had other things to focus on now.

You tried to follow the path the camper had taken back, and lo and behold, there it was; the real world at last. Wandering around in a slightly euphoric daze you had found his campsite. It was mostly still unpacked but you found some loose clothes that were wearable, some trail food, and most importantly a map. You were in a forested mountain range, surprising given it also said you were still in Nevada. Following it back took two days but the rush from being back in your old world fueled you along. Today you had finally reached civilization; the streets of some small rural town. Following them you came in to the first public building you could find, a library. As you rest you are suddenly overwhelmed by everything that has happened in just three days with one question looming over your head:

What Now?

Old instincts bubble up-- ask a librarian for a phone, call your parents, call the police. Casper's face flashes in the back of her mind and she has to take a deep breath to center herself. Not a little girl anymore. A monster, can't forget that. His fault.

She decides calling her parents is more important than calling the police.

She hides what's left of her hands in her pockets and approaches the librarian. Belatedly, she realizes she doesn't know what her face looks like. Too late for that now.

Addendum: The Things They (now She) Carried-
Altogether you found the following at the campsite:

-a small collapsible tent (sleeps one)
-a travel thermos filled with water
-four days worth of camping food
-a one person sleeping bag
-a flashlight
-a pocket lighter
-a compass
-a map of the greater Mount Charleston region of Nevada
-a pair of adjustable sandals, fits sizes 8-9
-two outfits worth of men's clothing. they fit, albeit poorly or loosely. they are contained in a small duffel bag.
-a stick of old spice deodorant
-half a tube of toothpaste, a folding toothbrush
-a citronella candle
-a heavy duty camping backpack
-a grey collar. tags linked to it say that it was issued locally along with a phone number and the name "Daisy". thin blonde hairs have been caught in the fabric.

now on to the actual post:

The librarian, a middle-aged, middle class looking woman, turns to address her as she approaches. She winces slightly, as one might upon seeing an old injury's scar, but quickly snaps back into her customer service mode. Either she is particularly unfazed my monstrous appearances or she can't see what you (probably) actually look like.

She provides you access to the library's phone as you punch in your family's phone number. You tense as the dial tone rings before a wholly unfamiliar person's voice answers you.

"Hello?"

Well. That's interesting. First no reaction to her exposed bones by the man in the Hedge, then almost nothing from the librarian. She watches the woman while she dials the phone, and sure enough, her hands don't attract any attention. Bizarre, and suspicious. She needs to find a mirror.

"Oh. I'm-- Is this the-- the Murphy residence?"

Her hands are shaking. Shit.

"No, this is the Alderosa residence. Murphy... that name does actually sound familiar though. You know yeah, I think Murphy was the name of the family we bought the house from. That would've been about three years ago now".

Three years. Okay. Okay. That's. That's a time frame reference, right? It's been at least three years. Has to be longer, she counted days for the first couple years and that was forever ago--

"I'm-- I'm a relative, do you have their number?"

"I think I have it around here somewhere".
You hear the sound of many small pages being flipped through.

"No luck with a number I'm afraid, but I found a forwarding address. Looks like they moved to a 5421 East Harmon Avenue, Las Vegas. Couldn't tell you if that's up to date now though, that was from back in 2013".

Dahlia scrambles for a piece of paper and a pencil. Luckily, library desks usually have those. She repeats the address back as she writes it down.

Wait.

"2013?"

It's 2016, then. It was 2002 the last time she checked. Fourteen years.

"Three years ago, yeah. The Murphys were apparently around for quite awhile but I guess they decided it was time for a change or something. I'd love to help out some more with this but I'm afraid that's all I know, so I'm not sure what else I can tell you".

"I-- thank you. You've been very helpful. Have a good day."

And she hangs up, reeling from the vicious reminder that no, there will be no going back to her old life. Even the house is gone.

Ok, her old home?
Gone.
Her old family?
Maybe not so much.

The address may not have been much to go on, but right now it was the only lead she had. The address wasn't that far off, maybe a few towns away. You just need to figure out how to get there.

Oh, and finding some way to support your continued survival, that would be important too.

Alright. Priority one: a safe place to sleep and hide in case her master figures out they've got the wrong human. A basement or an attic would probably do the trick for now, if she could find one. From there she can start stealing some more advanced supplies and planning her trip out to Vegas.

As you're planning it starts dawning on you how attention grabbing your current appearance is. A dirty, unkempt young woman wearing clothes too large and carrying bags stuffed with camping supplies, not to mention however it is you actually look like to people. You could probably make a few bucks in homeless charity, you already looked the part.

   Though you were very easy to notice, people were letting their gaze linger on you for long. Well, except for one person at least.

   She was a tall, thin woman with a inquisitive expression on her face. She had the dark tawny skin of someone from the Mediterranean, her complexion complimented by her loose, earthy colored tunic and headscarf. She was plainly dressed, her only accessory a small black pendant in the shape of a bird.

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   She was statuesque. No, quite literally she looked like a human cast in copper. Fine filigree was etched into her fingers and her eyes, two brown-black glass spheres, were magnified by crystal lenses embedded in her face.

Finishing her approach she sits at your table.

"Excuse me miss," she says with a calm smile, "are alright? I don't mean to pry but you look like you might like some help".

Once upon a time, a creature like this would have been startling. Instead, the sight of another otherworldly person is a relief, a grounding. The banality of the library was starting to feel unreal.

Dahlia looks her up and down, trying to get a read on her, what kind of something she is.

"You can see me, then? Ah, I mean. This me."

She raises her hands for inspection.

(Wits + Empathy)

The member 'Admin' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'D10' : 4, 4, 2, 10

10-Again, 1 success so far

The member 'Admin' has done the following action : Dice roll

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'D10' : 10

(Success!) You get the same sort of vibe from her that you did from your "co-workers" back in the other place, a little more self certain though perhaps. She doesn't seem to acting maliciously right now, not at the moment at least.

"Yes, that you. I think I might be able to help you with that".

The last person who 'helped' Dahlia is certainly regretting it now, but she shoves THAT thought out immediately.

"How?"

She needs more information out of this woman, but she's also wary of revealing how desperately inexperienced she is.

"I'm a social worker, helping those in desperate situations is my job. Most of my cases have fairly mundane solutions, granted, but I can offer quite a lot to those in unique situations like yourself. Support networks, housing, employment, whatever it is you need to restart your life, I'd like to help you find it". She seems to show a genuine interest in your well-being, though her pitch has a well-practiced inflection as well. "The only thing I ask in return is your willingness to help others who find themselves in your situation".

Dahlia holds her tongue to keep from making a comment about child services. She honestly didn't know social workers did anything besides take kids from their parents, that's the only thing she'd ever seen on TV. And she doesn't actually want to sign on to help others, but if this is the way to get her footing, she can always back out later.

"How's it work? Do I... sign something?"

The woman laughs under her breath, a metallic tinkling sound.
"Nothing so formal, a promise is quite enough for our purposes". Her posture shifts, she's all business. "Now then, all I ask of you is to try returning the favors others do for you, simple tit-for-tat nothing unreasonable. So tell me, what is it you would like out of this deal? What do you need to start off on the right track"?