Scarlet: Hi. Yeah. Umm... Gellie! Do the disclaimer!
Gellie: I'm sorry... She has socializing problems! Anyways... We don't own Rozen Maiden, even though I can draw them awesomely well!
Scarlet: GELLIEEEEE! YOU SHOW-OFF! AND WHO SAID I HAD SOCIALIZING PROBLEMS?!
Gellie: Pfpth... Oh well. This is a collaboration account/story, which I guess is quite obvious. Now I gotta run because Scarlet is mad at me... *sprints away*
Scarlet: GET BACK HERE! Anyway... Bye. Enjoy the story?...! GELLLLLLIIEEEEE! YOU ARE SO DEAD!
Long long ago...
"Are you ready?" a man said to the looming shadows.
Without waiting for a reply, he turned his back on them, counting the floorboards out loud. When he reached the desired number, he bent down and pried the board up. The man took out a sealed wooden box that he had hidden under the floor beds. He drew out a knife and sliced his palm, allowing dark droplets of blood to splatter on to the lock. The blood slowly sank into the metal, as though the steel was vampiric.
Everyone in the room watched with bated breath as the last speck of maroon was swallowed. There was a loud click as box flew open, and the man reached down. His hand came up again gripping a bottle, with a black, shiny, object sealed inside the container. Looking closer, you could recognize the inky object as a crystal. With shaking hands, he used the knife to pop out the cork, and the hollow stopper bounced on the floor thrice before rolling to a stop. He tilted the bottle over at a slight angle, the fist-sized crystal inside slowly sliding out to land in the man's hand.
He grasped it tightly, turned around again, and faced the now exposed neat row of young women in front of him, waiting for their answer of the question he had asked earlier. As one, they all nodded their heads.
A young lady stood up, not suppressing her curiosity, tilted her head, and looked at the glimmering stone.
"So this is the Rosa Mystica?" she said loudly, her voice clear and layered with a strong British accent.
The man squinted, eager to see her expression. He wondered if the girl's face was pale with trepidation and strained to clear his vision even more; he had always enjoyed seeing the uneasiness of others. Luckily for her, the room was dark and dim, so her face was hidden by the darkness that came with flickering lights. Tsking at the fact that he couldn't see well, the man walked forward and stood face-to-face with the young woman.
"Yes, this is the Rosa Mystica," he said in an apathetic tone.
The young lady's face broke into an imperceptible smile as she realized why the man was so unforthcoming. He didn't want to admit that he couldn't finish this project alone.
Almost flaunting his lack of success, she smirked before announcing, provoking, "In the end... In the end you still need our souls to polish it. You need us to make it gleam so that the doll's lives could be activated. Is that so?"
The man ignored the girl's words, pushing the memory of his failure away. The reminder just increased his taste for cruelty as his mind sharpened. Eyes narrowing unconsciously, he scanned the room slowly, letting his eyes linger uncomfortably on each and every person there.
"Who's first?"
Nobody answered.
The man sighed and walked to another young female. This person had an Asian appearance. Her dark hair was woven into a long braid that snaked down her back. The man snatched the girl up from her seat, taking no notice of her cry of pain as he pulled her arm roughly.
"Let's start with you then," he said coldly.
Another girl with curly black hair that was sitting beside the Asian girl rushed up to him. She pushed him away from the Asian, turned and mumbled a few soothing words to the girl before swiveling around to the man again, her eyes gleaming with defiance.
"Wait a second! You said that my doll could be the first doll, but she's not finished yet!" she snapped, complaining.
Her hands clenching at her side, the girl went on, "How can you have us start polishing now when she's not finished? Are you going to the let the first thing she learns to be the fact that she is imperfect? How could you? It's so..."
Her firm voice faltered and she dug her face into her hands, gulping, allowing the tears brimming in her eyes to tumble down her cheeks as she sobbed slightly, "Don't you think that she's pitiful? Aren't you their Father? She doesn't even have a stomach! How can you do this to her when she loves you so much?"
The man snorted, running a hand through his blond hair, looking as if he didn't care about what the girl was saying at all. A scraping sound rang through the room as yet another person stood up. An older girl with wheat colored hair wrapped her arms around the black-haired girl, comforting her.
The light-haired girl swept the man with a deadly glare and drew a sword from her waist, growling, "Rozen, I'm sure you realize that I can kill you, right here, right now." The young lady's turquoise eyes glowed with killing intent.
"And there are two reasons that I wish you dead: First, you didn't give my doll a whole body, as you crushed one of her eyes during one of your stupid tantrums. Second, you didn't even bother to give her a body at all!" she snarled, eyes blazing, as she slashed her sword at Rozen.
Hard.
Rozen narrowly avoided the slicing cut by stepping aside, but the blade still managed to shear off a few strands of his golden hair that glided down to rest gently on the floor. The male's eyes flared and he said icily, "That's enough. You came here of your own violation; it's not like I forced you here."
The murderous look slipped off the girl's face. She hissed in irritation before slouching back down on her chair. She couldn't think of saying something to prove Rozen's statement wrong, because all of them had come here themselves. They had all fallen into the man's deadly trap, lulled by his empty, worthless promises and poisonous, sweet, words.
The room quieted and nobody protested anymore.
"Done? Good. Let's start polishing now."
He walked over to the wheat haired girl who had defied him earlier and his eyes flashed with sadism.
"Starting with you."
Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.
—Albert Camus (The Fall)
First Arc ⎡Lies⎦: Begin
Scarlet: And that's our wrap! PEACE! :D
Gellie: Are you still mad at me?
Scarlet:...
Gellie: Nani?
Scarlet: YESSSS!
Gellie: Eep! Anyways... I edited this again!
Scarlet: Without even TELLING ME?
Gellie: KYAAAAAAAA!
Scarlet: ...