Work Text:
After Alan had reached out to Rose from the Dark Place, the town waitress’s life becomes a lot more exciting. For good and for bad.
Working at the Oh Deer Diner and the Valhalla Nursing Home gives her enough to do throughout the day and keep her wandering mind busy and occupied.
In her free time, she delves into the world of fiction writing, much like her beloved author, though her stories aren’t as dark or serious as his. It’s Rose’s own little escape from the real world terrors she had seen and witnessed back in 2010 and after.
But now that Alan Wake needs her, she also works hard to leave clues and encouraging messages for his so-called ‘hero’.
Rose had not meet them yet, but she trusts the writer’s words for it. So now unpaid nightwork has been added to her never-ending list of chores.
After the sun sets, she makes sure the woods are a bit safer again with her trusty rifle in one hand and a lantern in the other.
It’s harrowing and terrifying work but at the same time, Rose finds it empowering: to take back her life after the Darkness had temporarily possessed her.
Banishing the monsters into their shadowy depths of the lake and setting free the tortured souls once inhabiting the Takens.
In some way, it also feels like she’s purging and banishing the Darkness that remained inside her after the 2010 incidents.
Rose Marigold bravely follows in Cynthia Weaver’s footsteps quite literally. It doesn’t take the waitress long to find the yellow painted marks all around Bright Falls and the dense forests.
“You’re a real manic woman, Cynthia Weaver!” she exclaims to herself when she finds the hundredth painting, this time a Torchbearer logo on a large rock.
These are the marks Alan had followed, had guided him. Rose wants to do the same for the hero. And hopefully, one day they can serve Alan again once more.
She figures that the Alex Casey lunchboxes might not be the things that draw the writer to them.
From his first and last visit to Bright Falls, Rose had noticed the man’s dislike in his own franchise.
Rose could no longer blame him for that.
The afternoon sun is slowly setting at the Valhalla Nursing Home, basking the living room in a warm, safe golden glow.
Rose’s shift is almost over and she can go home for the day.
Still, she tries to be there for the elderly residents. It has gotten quieter since the ‘Lamp Lady’ had passed away.
Cynthia Weaver has left an empty spot in the living room. She would often stand in front of one of the windows, the Angel Lamp clutched to her chest like a dear baby, muttering to herself.
Still, in the dark, Rose can sometimes see a glimmer of a Taken Cynthia in the corridors.
Rose regrets how she had treated the old lady before, thinking she was completely crazy.
Yet, Cynthia Weaver had trust the nurse to carry on her work as the Lady of the Light. The elderly woman had gazed at her with compassion and knowledge: she knew that Rose had been touched by the same Darkness.
She had seen the girl’s determination and knew that the town would be safer in Rose’s hands.
It makes Rose feel all the more guilty for taking Cynthia’s lamp away and giving it to Alan instead. Had that not happened, then maybe Cynthia would’ve stayed alive longer.
But Rose knows she can’t dwell on her past action too long. That wouldn’t help anyone.
And to some extent, Rose hopes Cynthia would’ve understand her decision to help the writer she loves.
She slowly focuses back on the tasks at hand.
At the communal table, Norman is seen trying to teach Ahti a card game. At the same table, Pat Maine is reading a book.
The Anderson brothers and Donna are sitting on the couch, watching TV with Tor grumbling and complaining about its content.
Mandy-May sits in her usual armchair, knitting away. It seems she is creating more pieces for Rose’s special rocks.
“Rosie, dear, can you please help me get upstairs?” Donna suddenly calls.
Rose quickly walks over to the elderly lady and nods. As she helps the woman get off the couch, Donna mutters.
“Graffiti vandalism, huh? Did you know my son is a graffiti artist! Legal!”
Rose throws a glance at the television. The local news covers new spots where youngsters spraying their tags illegally.”
“Back in our day, we did all kinds of stuff!” Tor exclaims. “This is nothing compared to what we did, huh, bro?”
Odin chuckles in reply.
“Aw you rascals. The Sheriff should dedicate some walls where they can put their tags on,” Donna exclaims.
“Let’s get you upstairs,” Rose tries to steer the conversation away from getting too heated.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Tor argues but luckily Donna lets herself be guided to the staircase.
Still, she talks to Rose about her son.
“Michael is a great artist in Seattle now. Got commissioned by the City too once!”
“Oh really?” Rose asks.
Donna nods and grips the staircase railing with one hand, while hooking her other arm around Rose to balance herself.
“Yes, he does. At first, I didn’t understand it. Thought it were just ugly scribbles sprayed onto random walls. But people are doing great stuff with it.”
Rose calmly nods along as they climb the two staircases.
“They want to leave their mark on the world. And Mikey does in a bold way,” Donna continues as they reach her bedroom.
“That’s great to hear, Donna.”
“If you want, I can show you some pictures after I call him,” Donna suggests.
Rose smiles. “I’d love to see his works.”
The short conversation with the Valhalla Nursing resident has given Rose an idea.
While practicality is at the centre of the Torchbearer paints, Rose wants to give her own spin to it. To make her own mark on the world, even if only a small percentage of people in Bright Falls will see it.
And so the next couple of days, she spends her time looking up graffiti artists and supplies necessary.
She also talks to Donna about it, though keeps her interest at surface level. After all, Donna had made it clear that she frowns upon the people who spray their stuff on unauthorized spots.
In her diary and on some pages of her printed fanfic, she doodles her sketches.
Pretty early on in her little research, she has settled for the nickname Wildrose. Maybe not too subtle, but again, she doubts the average Bright Falls resident will notice it anyway.
After a long work day of two different shifts, she gets home and prepares a microwave meal.
She sits down with a cup of tea and takes out her sketchbook. It holds snippets of fanfic drafts, drawings of Alan and now the start of her graffiti career.
While her meal is heating up in the microwave, she makes some warmup sketches.
A bubbly font gives her the most satisfaction and fits the most. She pushed her usual handwriting for the encouraging words for the hero to her limits and blew them up to get the wanted style.
At the local hardware store, she buys some cheap spray paint to practice.
Once she is confident in her tagging and throwies, she buys a new can. This time, the ones that are only visible by shining a light.
Luckily, the store clerk doesn’t question why a nurse and waitress like Rose Marigold needs special paint like that.
Being the town’s perceived crazy lady has its perks every now and then.
When the evening arrives, Rose drives to the edge of the National Park. She wears her hoodie. In her pocket, she has a mask and in her backpack, she has batteries, the spray can, her sketchbook and extra ammunition for her rifle that she has also thrown over her shoulder.
To her luck, it’s pretty calm tonight. She finds a sweet spot and gets to work. When she puts on her mask and settles down, a new rush of adrenaline surges through her body.
In a way, it feels like she’s a rebellious teenager.
It takes her half an hour to put on her name throw up and a decorated arrow that points toward a secret Alex Casey stash, hidden a few feet away.
As soon as she’s done, she takes off her mask which had gotten damp. Just as she stores away the mask an the spray can, she hears rustling and a muted but distorted voice.
Quickly, she takes her rifle in her hand and with enough expertise, also handles her flashlight.
A single Taken stands in her pathway. It tries to avoid her light ray but Rose makes quick work of the monster and burns away its shadow shield before putting a bullet in its head.
The monster evaporates like a black mist.
The waitress turns to her first graffiti piece and puts her hands on her hips and nods approvingly.
“That should be enough a bold statement. May it serve you, hero and Alan,” she mutters to herself with a smile.
Rose then hurries back to her car. She’s glad when the safety of her trailer pops up. That’s enough adventure for this night.