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Mraagvpeine posted:You don't have to look through the whole thread, just the first page from what I've seen. Probably should have mentioned that before. The posts on
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Apr 21, 2018 23:50
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...so, uh. The wish Giselle made in the room wasn't to be able to touch Michel. Or, that wasn't her first wish. Her first wish was to know how the witch felt. I'm worried that's the thing that cursed her to reincarnating and always being the one blamed for the resulting tragedy, instead of the Maid being blamed. I'm not seeing any posts on the first page that have been recently edited, though. PetraCore fucked around with this message at 00:39 on Apr 22, 2018 |
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Apr 22, 2018 00:28
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PetraCore posted:...so, uh. The wish Giselle made in the room wasn't to be able to touch Michel. Or, that wasn't her first wish. Her first wish was to know how the witch felt. Did you check the op?
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Apr 22, 2018 02:32
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Mraagvpeine posted:Did you check the op?
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Apr 22, 2018 03:24
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 The flow of time was hazy within the mansion’s walls. They had little way of telling whether it was night or day, preventing them from knowing exactly how much time had passed. The White-Haired Girl had made a habit of climbing the observation tower every so often to see whether the sun was up, which allowed her to approximate the time of day. Consequently, when she heard the knock on the door, she was not aware just how deep the night was outside — that forest and beast alike lay quietly at rest.  (Oh, right, the stores in the cellar are almost exhausted...) (It must be this month’s delivery.)Not thinking it was worth bothering Michel over, she made her way out of her chambers and headed for the entrance. There had only been a single knock, leading her to conclude that, as before, the servant had simply left the box outside the door. So without a second thought, she opened the door — and there she saw a strange, vagrant man standing in the moonlight. His clothes were tattered, his bearded face bony and emaciated.  BGM: Venomous Angel She gasped, shrinking back several paces. The heavy door began to swing shut, but the man forced it open, glaring down at her with unfocused eyes and mumbling,  It was in that moment that the White-Haired Girl realized she had been careless. The man had sought out the mansion because he believed the legend of the witch. And he did not seem particularly right of mind, either — perhaps a result of wandering through the forest for several days. Or perhaps it was because he was so beaten down that he thought to ask for a witch’s help. In a word, he seemed mad. N-No... There is no witch here... Sure there is. Don’t ye lie to me... I can ’ear the witch’s voice... She led me to this ’ouse! Ngh... I-I promise you, there isn’t! Now please, be on your way! ’Ave ye any idea ’ow long it took to find this place?! ’Ow many days I’ve gone without food or water?! And ye’re tellin’ me to get lost?! I-I don’t know what you want from me... I’m happy to give you a little food, so please! ... Is there really no witch? There’s no witch here! It’s nothing but a legend. If she does exist, she doesn’t live here. I see... Then that means... ye’re just an ordinary person. — ?! Just a person... just a girl... so there ain’t a thing ye can do... Why waste time waitin’ for ye to get me a little grub when I can just take it all?! I’m starvin’ ’ere! I’m so ’ungry I could eat human! You’re about to commit a grievous sin! Are you not ashamed to act in defiance of God?! God? If I believed in God, would I come beggin’ to a witch?! I don’t fear ’im, and I sure as ’ell don’t fear people! Oo’s gonna show up at a ’ouse in the middle of nowhere? Oo’s gonna call me out? Oo’s gonna stop me? No one, that’s oo. No one’s gonna stop me, and no one’s gonna offer me salvation! — ! Aaahh, there’s a thought... Ye’re a woman, so afore I kill ye —  What?! There’re other people ’ere?! — !The White-Haired Girl lay pinned on the floor beneath the yelling bandit, pleading for help with her ruby eyes. As soon as Michel grasped the situation, he tossed his candlestick aside and leapt for the man. — !The candlestick gave a sharp clang when it hit the floor. The impact extinguished the flame, bringing the mansion to near perfect darkness. Something glinted in the bandit’s hand, and then, without hesitation, he thrust it at Michel. Nn...rgh...! Michel! Hah, hahah! ’Ow stupid must ye be to come at me unarmed?!In his hand, the man held a knife, its tip dripping with Michel’s blood. Red spilled from the gash in his arm, the flow growing heavier with each passing moment. ... Ye’re the only other person ’ere, by the looks of it, eh? Perfect! I’ll take ye both out! You... What? You don’t appear to know whose house you tried to break into... What’re ye on about? Ye’re messed up in the ’ead, ye madman! Ay, stay the ’ell back! Take one more step an’ — — ?! I inherited the witch’s curse. L — Let — Let go — !Michel clutched the man’s face in one hand. The man raised his knife to strike back, but... Ngh, rgh, nnh, mmmnph! A-Ahh, what, what’s ’appenin’?!...the strength drained from his fingers, the knife falling to the floor. The man writhed in Michel’s grip. Ah, aaaah! M-Me face! Me face! Gaah, I can’t breathe! Ng, ngggh, rrrgh! Leave this place immediately. Though you won’t get far afflicted with my curse. Ah, ahh, aaaahh, aaaaaaahh!Helpless to fight back — nay, helpless to even consider fighting back — the bandit fled from the mansion in terror. In his wake, only the White-Haired Girl and a bleeding Michel remained. ... (His face withering away... sucked completely dry...) (I didn’t doubt him, but... dear god, that was...) That was quite disturbing for you, I’m sure. ...No, no, not at all! It’s my fault, anyway. If I hadn’t been so careless... Oh, your arm! We need to get that wrapped up! Please, do not touch me. You mustn’t touch me. The wound is hardly fatal. It’s all my fault... I’m so sorry! No, a degree of the blame falls on me for saying nothing. Next time someone comes to the door, let me know. I’m sorry... Please, you don’t need to apologize. I... um, well... Yes? For once, I’m actually proud of myself. Proud that I could use this terrible ability of mine to do something more than just take life — to protect someone I care about. ...! Ah, erm, uh... So like I said... please don’t apologize... All right. Thank you. Um, Michel? ...? I’m glad you’re here. I care about you too. ... Th... Thank you...Had the flame of Michel’s candle not gone out when he threw it to the floor, he would have seen a heartfelt smile on the White-Haired Girl’s face, and she would have seen a flush of red and an awkward smile on Michel’s normally blank face. He also might have seen a little glimmer on her cheek — where a few drops of his blood had landed. But alas, they had no light...  BGM: Desolation (piano) Perhaps it was because she had touched his blood instead of his skin, but the deterioration of the White-Haired Girl’s health crept along at a relaxed pace. The life was not sucked out of her in the blink of an eye, as it had been from the bandit. She merely grew progressively less and less healthy. Amidst her physical decay, she was bestowed with one blessing: her beauty remained untouched. But as far as blessings went, surely there were others she could have been granted. Could God have not picked something a little better for her? ... ...By the time the two of them realized what was happening, it was already too late. The White-Haired Girl had grown so weak she could hardly leave her bed.  Yes? Oh, you are there... I am. Thank goodness. I can’t see very well anymore... ... How could this happen? I thought I had saved you, but no, I did the exact opposite. Please... don’t talk that way. You... You did save me that day. But you’re on the cusp of death now, and it’s my fault! Because of this curse I bear... How? How could this happen? Why did this have to happen? What am I? Why was I given this body? Michel... ... Can I, um, ask you a favor? Go ahead. ... I was going to do as much anyway... Thank you. I’m happy, Michel. Happier than I have ever been. And I mean that. ... You didn’t just save my life. You saved me. (I’ve been saved,) (but... only me.) (I wonder how he’ll handle things when I’m gone.) (If only I hadn’t opened the door that day...) (I wouldn’t be leaving him all alone...) (and we could be happy together for even longer.) ... ... Um... Yes? Would you... please hold my hand? ... I think... it’s probably safe now... I will not. I cannot touch you. If I do, I might take what remains of your life. Take your beauty away... and force you to die hideous. ... I cannot touch you...  ? Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 02:23 on May 1, 2018 |
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Apr 22, 2018 14:22
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quote:Ooh boy, this doesn't look good. Mraagvpeine fucked around with this message at 16:20 on Apr 22, 2018 |
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Apr 22, 2018 16:16
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At this point it's probably okay to stop using spoiler bars. For the record, the actual context of this: The text is different when playing the game than it is when you use the log viewer to examine the text of previous scenes.
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Apr 22, 2018 16:48
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We're getting little to no xxxxx xx xxx's? The story's changed?
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Apr 22, 2018 16:49
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ProfessorProf posted:For the record, the actual context of this: The text is different when playing the game than it is when you use the log viewer to examine the text of previous scenes.
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Apr 22, 2018 17:55
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It does make it about impossible for someone to catch up with the thread now, though.
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Apr 22, 2018 18:53
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There will come a point where I'll revert everything and provide access to both versions for convenience.
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Apr 22, 2018 19:03
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Another interesting point about this chapter--If you listen carefully during this track: Ohos na Sala Esculo, after the 1 minute mark, even the music for this part is a bit off.
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Apr 22, 2018 19:51
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ProfessorProf posted:For the record, the actual context of this: The text is different when playing the game than it is when you use the log viewer to examine the text of previous scenes. Being somewhat familiar with how visual novels work, I thought it might be something like that, yes. The different medium of pure text allows for, and sometimes requires, extra features to accommodate the reader, such as a cast of characters, a glossary of terms, and a backlog at least a little way, so you can reread what you missed or check something. And the presence of these features do allow a clever writer to... mess about a bit in service to the story, such as what we're seeing here. For another example of what something like this might look like, I recommend looking up an interesting little title called Doki Doki Literature Club. It's free! But back to the story... hm. That was both quick and... surprisingly expected. I'm not disappointed, exactly, it's just... I've come to expect twists in the tale from the other stories, and there's not really one here: it was expected Giselle would get poisoned through contact, and she did. Just a bit anticlimactic, I mean.
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Apr 23, 2018 01:26
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Who says this is the end of this part?
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Apr 23, 2018 02:27
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She's not dead yet. Perhaps there's something Michel can do to save her, such as making an ill-advised witch bargain that ensures she's not going to die.
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Apr 23, 2018 06:06
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 BGM: Cicade ...?On his way back from the washroom several days later, Michel heard muffled voices.  ...e...got it? ...ill...im...good...He was having trouble making out what they were saying, but he could tell it was several men, and they were outside the front door. The fact that he could hear them at all through the heavy door meant they were probably shouting quite loudly. ...An indescribable sense of uneasiness came over him. Dread. He drew nearer to the door and focused on the voices on the other side. They grew clearer — enough for him to make out what the men were saying.   This is definitely the place. That half-dead bandit said she was in this mansion. Listen well. No matter what we find in there, we kill it. It could be a child for all I care — that doesn’t change anything. Kill the witch... Kill the witch! Kill the witch! Kill the witch! — !What he heard beyond the door was a group of men shouting for the death of the witch. In that moment, Michel regretted his decision to let the bandit go free and not watch over him until the moment of his demise. He must have made his way down to the village in search of help, where he revealed what he had found at the mansion. Dammit!But it was too late. Regret would solve nothing. He could neither stop the villagers from raiding the house, nor could he stop the White-Haired Girl from dying to the effects of his curse. He was helpless to do anything. The gears of his fate had locked him onto a path of tragedy and were turning mercilessly onward. — ! While the first strike was not enough to breach the barrier, it was still quite powerful. He was certain it would not hold for long. Michel’s mind raced. Was there anything he could do about this predicament? How could he escape from the corner he had been backed into? Despite his possessing inhuman powers, he would be powerless against a full mob of adult men. The villagers almost certainly came armed, as well.  A weak voice came from behind him. Aghast, he spun around to find the White-Haired Girl stumbling toward him. She breathed heavily, leaning against columns for support. What are you doing out here?! You’ll only worsen your condition by exerting yourself! I had... a sinking feeling... and I heard noises on my way here... It seems... that I... have brought all my misfortune upon you... Don’t say that! If I hadn’t come here, this never would have happened... You never would have been in any danger... Please, Michel, hand me over to the men outside. Absolutely not! ...I will do no such thing! They’re here for the witch, aren’t they? I’m guessing they’re the same people who were chasing me before. The village had a poor harvest this year, I hear. Like the village in the legend. And they believe it’s the witch’s curse... But you’re not a witch! They need someone to fill the role, though... So please. Hand me over. And then escape on your own. ... I could never... Please, Michel. I’m the one who’s cursed, not you! And you want me to hand you over?! What would I have left then? Nothing. Not a thing. I would have nothing. After so long, I finally found someone... who isn’t afraid of me... who won’t run... I have no interest in a world that would take you away from me, make me live alone once more... To hell with such a world. Michel... ... ... ...Would you... ... If... If that’s what you wish... then stay with me until the very end... (I probably wanted to hear that just as much as him.) (No, not probably. I did.) (I wanted to have someone at my side as much as him.) (It’s so lonely not having anyone.) (To live alone. To die alone...) (To not have anyone watching over you. For no one to even know you’re dead.) (I simply wanted...) (someone to tell me they’re here for me.) (To be there. To hold my hand.) (How wonderful that would be.) (The sense of utter relief it would bring...) (would be enough to cast away all the pain...) (to allow me to accept all our suffering.) (...) (So please...) (tell me you’ll...) They could hear the crash of the battering ram against the door, the shouts of the men, and their stomping feet — but despite all that, the ray of light shining through the little window was as beautiful as always. The room’s air of serenity remained unimpeached. After the long climb to the top, the White-Haired Girl was terribly out of breath. Michel considered several times offering her his hand, but the possibility that doing so might rob her of her last scraps of life stayed his hand. ...It sounds like they broke down the door. I’m glad we made it up here when we did. I’m so sorry for asking this of you... Don’t be. I would have chosen here for my final moments as well. This is the one place in this mansion... with any sunlight. The one place I can get a good look at you. ... Thank you... ... That I was able to meet you... And more than anything, that you said you cared about me... Have I managed... to become an essential part of your life? Do you even need to ask? I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I feel the same way as you — I’m sure of it. The two of us... are more similar than you probably care to admit. ... Can I ask you one more thing? Go on. Would you... embrace me? ... If this is to be the end... if this is to be my last chance... then I don’t want it to end without having been able to touch you. ... Please, don’t refuse me this, Michel... Just... do it, please... I... I won’t keep you waiting long... Thank you... The truth is... I... always wanted this... I dreamed of being able to hold you... ...I... dreamed of it too... Thank... you... I’m... so... very... ... ... What a cruel joke... Could you not have given us some other miracle?! One that would allow us both to survive?! Where are you?! Where’d you get off to?! I can’t find her, dammit! Hey, there’s some stairs over here! They lead up! — !Beneath the single ray of light, the White-Haired Girl lay completely still; not even a frail sigh escaped her closed lips. She remained as gorgeous as ever; it was as though she had simply fallen asleep in the sunlight. Looking down upon her, Michel determined to do one thing: I will not allow anyone to sully this sight.He gave a fleeting glance back at her pristine corpse, then opened the door and stepped through it alone. He would protect that room where she lay. Hey! There’s someone up here! So this is where you’ve been hiding, you infernal witch! Wait... that’s not the girl!The raucous sound of their footsteps rang up from below. Shortly thereafter, the men themselves came into view. As he had expected, they were heavily armed. He glowered at the men, then sucked in a deep breath and shouted at the top of his lungs:  You hear that?! But he’s a — Man or woman, it doesn’t matter! Death to anyone who has ties to the witch! Cleanse this earth of all impurity! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!Michel did not flinch at the sight of the men. He stood unyielding between them and the door. He did not flinch when they raised their weapons against him, nor when —   ...Ngh, ggh, gah! Die, and take your curse with you! Rgh... hah... hahh... gghah... ...Hahh, nnh... ahh... aaah... I have no... need for... this life any longer...! It’s all yours! I am... I am cursed... to kill even that... which I wish to protect... But... at the very least... I can protect one thing before my life is done... Not even one of you will leave this place... Wither and die by my curse!The blood spilling from his skewered body flowed down the stairs, down and down like a little river, soaking the feet of every single man who had stormed the mansion. This was the last thing he saw before the final grains of life slipped between his fingers, which brought a faint smile to his lips.  ... Nnh... Ah...Neither of them had expected what happened next, though, for God has a most twisted sense of humor. The White-Haired Girl had not miraculously passed away without being robbed of her beauty — Why... am I... still alive...?— she had, rather, not passed away at all. Quite cruel of Him, was it not? Michel...? Where have you gone, Michel? Michel... ...I... I smell... blood... — !For had He allowed her to die, she would not have been made to witness the scene that awaited her. No... no...And I am sure you know just what it was she laid eyes upon in that moment.  ...and the sickening stench it raised. No... Why?!And his was not the only body — the villagers who had assaulted the mansion had been subjected to his curse, the life drained from their withered shells. Why... did this... Michel, why — ?! Why am I the only one still alive?!That is a question I cannot answer either. Perhaps his curse did not affect those he loved — as terribly cruel as that might be. I cannot say... Why... You said we would go together! A world without you has no meaning!Had she actually expended her life there in the room at the top of the tower, perhaps this tale could have had a happy ending. She would have at least been able to have the man she loved at her side until her very last moments upon this earth. But that was not what had transpired. She had survived, been left utterly alone. I felt a profound pity for the miserable girl... so I called out to her:  BGM: Cicade Wha... I have the power to help you meet him again. Who’s there?! Where are you?! You know what they call this mansion. So who do you suppose remains on these grounds? No way... You’re... from the legend... You... You actually exist... Now, I asked you a simple question: would you like to see him again? ... (The witch grants people’s wishes... but at a price...) (I said I wouldn’t ask for her assistance if I met her...) (but that’s all changed...) (Now that I’ve lost him...!) If it’s truly possible... then yes... I want to see him. Bring him back to life! Regrettably, I cannot directly meddle with the forces of life and death. However, I can guarantee you this: Reconstruction? Correct. To ensure that you remain as yourself in future lives, and are not reborn as someone else, your body and mind shall be reconstructed. As shall his. If you sincerely wish to reunite with one another — if you genuinely need each other in your lives — you will eventually meet again. All I can promise you is eternal reconstruction. What you make of it is up to you. ... You want to see him again, don’t you? You want to hear his voice again, don’t you? You want to feel his hand on your cheek once more, don’t you? If that’s what you want, then you must remain who you are. If you are simply reborn, that wouldn’t be you, so there wouldn’t be any point, would there? Me, as I am... and he, as he is... Make up your mind quickly. I will not wait long. ... I... I... I want to see him again! ...Hehehe. As you wish, sweet little girl. I shall grant you both eternal reconstruction. And pray with all my heart... that you can attain true happiness.Shortly thereafter, the White-Haired Girl took her own life. She decided she had nothing to gain by remaining in the present time, and that in order to reunite with Michel, she needed to make her way to her next life.    Have they, Master?  You know now who you are, do you not? You remember everything now, do you not? You were present in every single era. The reason for which is as I described in the previous tale: because you yearned to be reunited with someone. But that person never showed up — in any era. And poor, sweet you, having no memory of any of that... lived those lives with other men. Is it any surprise misfortune befell those eras, then? The door swung closed. But rather than outside, You and the Maid were inside the dull, monochrome room at the top of the observation tower. The awe-inspiring ray of light shone not through the lone window high upon the stone wall. Wrapped in a curious, impenetrable darkness, You both stood alone in the room. The Maid wore a gentle, but brittlely cold smile as she looked straight at You. It is not your fault misfortune befell you. The only force to blame for that is fate. You were always so kind, so pure of heart. You had boundless trust for others and the goodness of people. You were the very image of all that is right. There is no greater misfortune than someone as pure and beautiful as you... being mercilessly thrown into the grinding gears of tragedy again and again. You must be utterly exhausted. Constantly betrayed, the man you were waiting for never appearing... After so long, your spirit worn down to the bone, you lost any and all awareness of who you even were. Who were you hoping to find wandering into this illusory mansion, cut off from the real world? You and I are the only ones here. The man you seek is nowhere to be found. Have you still not figured it out? Then allow me to tell you everything:  Did my calling you “Master” confuse you? If so, then I apologize. My habit of calling the master — or mistress — of the house “Master” is quite deeply ingrained. And yes... that means precisely what you think it does: that I have accepted you as my new master. That I wish for you to remain here. To stay with me. So let us put an end to this journey. Do not worry. There is nothing to fear. We are simply going to step outside the river of time. Nothing unpleasant will ever happen to you again. I will be here with you for all eternity, and I will give you my utmost care. You will not have to wait for anyone. Forget about him — the man you once sought — and I am sure you shall find happiness. Please... do it for me. I have been waiting for you for so, so very long. I have wanted nothing more than to see you again. But you were continually stolen away from me... despite my sincerest desires to spend my days with you. Which is why I wanted you to recall everything. For surely you would not willingly repeat the same fate... if you knew of all the pain it has caused you to suffer thus far. Spend eternity with me... in the gentle embrace of darkness. Her fingers, brushing up against Yours, were as cold as ever. But her breath tickled Your skin pleasantly, and her sweet words rang in Your ears, filling You with warmth... You thought back on Your time with her in the mansion. She had, indeed, always treated You with great compassion, and nothing she had said seemed to be a lie. And so You pondered. What were You to do?  (Well, since she asked so nicely.)  You had seen an excess of tragedy. You had borne witness to far too much pain. And Your spirit was deeply wounded by it. You could not possibly endure any further tragedy. And so, if she was offering You relief from all that, perhaps You should accept it. She had guided You this far, never letting go of Your hand. And it was her presence that had allowed You to bear the bleak, disheartening, and wretched tales You saw. Did You really need anything other than her? If she said she wanted to be with You, then surely You were allowed to want the same.  You gently wrapped Your fingers around the Maid’s cold hand. Never again to let go. Never again to remember. Never again to look back upon the past You might have had, the rare, treasured days of happiness, or the bitter days filled with nothing but pain, or the person You were supposed to find. But You were fine with that. There was no one to criticize You for averting Your eyes from Your pain and seizing the opportunity for happiness lying before You. You made the correct choice.  BGM: The Maid (Piano) Oh, thank goodness. You have awoken. I was getting worried there for a moment. What kind of herbal tea would you like to start your day with? I have some wonderful chamomile leaves, if you would like. Or perhaps your tastes have changed since last we met. Tell me, Master... Hehehe... I beg your pardon. I allowed myself to get too excited. But... we get to be together forever, after all. Free of the flow of time, nothing to endanger us or our lives. Just peace and serenity for the two of us. I will serve you forever... and ever.  ? Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 21:45 on Oct 23, 2018 |
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Apr 24, 2018 12:54
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Great, we got a happy ending after all...?
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Apr 24, 2018 13:34
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ProfessorProf posted:Dark. ... Ye gods. BAD END. She might be who she claimed to be, but that does not mean that you are Giselle. How do you know that's who you are, and not Michel? And even if you are Giselle, how do you know that was the wish you made, that there was any wish at all? No, there are holes here, holes that need to be filled, away from her influence. And she might have sugar coated things, made bad tragedies better by bringing a fairy-tale spin to them; it could be that what really happened will be too terrible to bear, as she warned they would be- no greater tragedy than your own, after all. But how do you know you've never met Michel again? How do you know Morgana has played fair here? The last witch was pointing toward the truth, but this one... this one is pointing away.
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Apr 24, 2018 14:16
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Pretty sure she's also lying. Hilarious that Death Herself fell in love with one of her victims, though.
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Apr 24, 2018 14:41
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This sounds quite restful but I'm assuming based on the title that this was not the correct choice.
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Apr 24, 2018 15:45
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resurgam40 posted:... Ye gods. BAD END.
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Apr 24, 2018 16:29
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Also I feel like if Michel got burned to death, hypothetically, the spreading smoke might cause progressive madness and plague in the surrounding area. Which is what I thought was his plan once Giselle 'died'.
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Apr 24, 2018 16:31
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That was the game's first ending, but let's be clear - we aren't close to finishing this LP.
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Apr 24, 2018 17:26
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Morgana has negative chill, jeez girl. I don't think she's wholesale lying, but she is definitely not telling the entire truth and/or embellishing the tales in ways that suit her.
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Apr 24, 2018 23:53
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Morgana le Fay isn't exactly known for honesty, though why she wanders around in a maid costume is beyond me.
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Apr 25, 2018 01:19
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oh boy I can't wait to play Just Morgana forever! 
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Apr 25, 2018 02:29
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Like Clockwork posted:Morgana has negative chill, jeez girl.
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Apr 25, 2018 03:36
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Sorry for the longer-than-usual wait, I forgot to get to this before work. Next post will go up this afternoon.
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Apr 26, 2018 15:26
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 (On second thought, maybe that was a bad idea.) You could not accept the Maid’s offer. If what she said was true, You could not give up on Your search. You had spent years and years waiting to reunite with someone. Your previous attempts may have been rife with mistakes, but You could not stop trying. Come, Master. Spend eternity with me in the mansion. We will have the most wonderful time together.The sweet tone of her voice. Her cold fingers. Her icy smile. These were all terrifying now. You had to escape. Had to break out of this darkness, make it outside. Master? What is the — You brushed the Maid’s hand aside. As her eyes widened, aghast, You fled from the observation tower.  Down and down and down and down... At long last, You arrived at the bottom, dashing from the next room without a passing glance at the angel in the stained-glass window. The Maid had shown You around the mansion, so You knew its layout. Or perhaps... You were familiar with it even before arriving here. A large door came into view. The exit was up ahead. Master.But the next moment, her voice seized You from behind. You turned back, and there stood the Maid, wearing the same smile.  This mansion is quite large. You could get lost if you go walking around unaccompanied. Now come, let us head back. And please do not let go of my hand.It was the same smile she always wore. The exact same. But right now... it seemed inexplicably ghoulish. The chill that ran down Your spine was not from the lack of heat — but utter terror. Come, let us head somewhere else...You had to get out of here. Oh, I know. We can put some more kindling in the fireplace and start a fire. The sweet firelight and gentle warmth will have you feeling wonderful in no time.You had to get out of here. You must be quite disoriented. The impact of regaining your memories has you terrified. Am I correct?You had to get away. You had to escape. You had to get out of here. Do not worry. I will always take care of you. Keep you safe from anything that scares you. I will be here with you, forever...You clawed at the door. It was not barred, so it should open. Nevertheless — it remained firmly in place.  How could I possibly allow weak little you to go out into that? Now come back to my side, please. You have no need to be here. The Maid drew toward You.She reached out her hand. Her whole body seemed to be trying to encase You in ice. She wanted to keep You chained here in the darkness. Do not worry... There is nothing to be afraid of...You had to get out of this place. You had to break free. From this house of darkness. From this doting Maid. And from the maelstrom of tragedy. You had to remain firm, unyielding in that desire. Your desire to go outside. Your wish to be set free. You could not compromise or relent. Your thirst for escape had to be stronger than the Maid’s intent to keep You here. If it was, the door would surely open. — ! M-Master! There was nothing blocking Your escape outside. No fog, no forest, no sinkholes, and no beasts in sight. The light was so bright it almost hurt Your eyes. It was a world exactly opposite the darkness within the house.  You could hear the Maid’s voice, but You kept running through the light, as far as You could go. Wherever You arrived, You were sure that was where You were meant to be. Once, though — just once — You looked back over Your shoulder. It was blurry in the bright light, but You could see the mansion there. It wavered like a mirage — as though it could disappear at any second — the Maid standing in the open door. She was desperately reaching her hands out for You, but You were far out of reach. It seemed she could not leave the house. Perhaps You felt a pang of pity for her, but You were not sure. And when You could no longer hear the Maid’s shouting for You, Your consciousness snapped off. You fell not into darkness — but light.  ... ...Huh? What... was I doing, again? Umm... Oh, that’s right. I was on my way to school... Now what was I doing dozing off in the middle of the road? I’m not sure...I feel kind of... in a daze. Like I just woke up from a terrible nightmare... In the middle of the day? In the middle of the road? Nothing like that’s ever happened before... Has it? Something doesn’t add up. I can’t remember what I was doing. It’s like there’s a big gap in my memory... What was I doing? Who... was I looking for? Need to stay focused. I have to get going or I’ll be late. ...I know this place all too well. It’s the same route I take to school every day. There’s a vendor along the way that always waves good morning to me. Always...? The same route? I know this place? Yes... I know this place. I see it every day. Every day. Nothing changes... It’s always the same... My perfectly normal... ordinary, everyday life... ... ...? Ah...A gentle breeze brushes against my cheeks. My hair flutters as my gaze slides upward.  I... I think I know this man. As soon as I see him, I feel like someone’s stuck their hand in my chest and is squeezing my heart. It’s hard to breathe, and the overwhelming sense of familiarity... has me on the verge of tears. Elation jolts through all of my extremities. Ahh, I know... This is the person I’ve been searching for... E — Excuse me! ... Um, excuse me!I have to get him to turn back. I have to look him in the eyes. I have to talk to him. We have to be reunited. I don’t know his name, and he probably doesn’t know mine, but still. This is fate, so — ...back to the mansion... What? H-Hold on! There’s, um, something I need to tell you! How could I have made that mistake? It was the worst possible decision... I have to make things right... I have to take her hand... I have to make her smile for me... If I can’t do that, what am I even alive for? What did I even return from the everlasting darkness for? Nothing... Absolutely nothing... U-Um... What are you talking about? This time I’ll do it... Can you... Can you hear me?Why won’t he look me in the eyes? And if it’s not possible in this life... Stop! Please, listen to me!Why does he keep moving forward? ...then I’ll just have to place my hope in the next one... — ! Wait, red light — ! I beg your forgiveness... I made the worst possible decision... Though I will not make the same mistake twice. No matter what form you may assume... I will not err again. I promise, I shall come back for you, Hey! Someone call an ambulance! Someone’s... been hit by a car! ... ...What?
Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 02:00 on Apr 27, 2018 |
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Apr 27, 2018 01:21
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These tragedies are getting remarkably efficient! Next up, white haired baby shoes, never worn.
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Apr 27, 2018 19:35
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Alopex posted:These tragedies are getting remarkably efficient! Next up, white haired baby shoes, never worn. I laughed. I actually missed that that was an ending and figured it may be the start of the next story! I'm kind of at a lost for what 'There's sill more to be done.' could mean, but it must be more wandering around the mansion and speaking to portraits.
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Apr 28, 2018 20:44
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Toalpaz posted:I laughed. Well, we've met Morgana, and we're Giselle, but Michel is still absent. We gotta find our lost boyfriend I guess?
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Apr 28, 2018 21:22
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 (This third option is not always available. If you don't reach into the painting after chapter 2, and don't make it into the master bedroom after chapter 3, there are only two options. But by now, we know that there's more to this story.)  BGM: This Mutilated Body Not only with the story she had just told. With her. And with You, Yourself. Assuming everything she had said was the truth...  Which will strike you first, I wonder — regret, or the curse? You seem to be doing just fine. It’s only a tale... The witch is real. Very much so. It is not a legend, nor a fairy tale. ... The witch — — is me.That’s right. It wasn’t the White-Haired Girl who had claimed to be the witch. And that wasn’t all...   If you do — if you’re sincerely prepared to do that, then be wary of the tale that comes next. Any tragedy that seems too beautiful to be real... is precisely that — a fabrication.None of Your questions had been answered. You still didn’t know who the painting was, or what had taken place so long ago that caused the mansion to summon people to it. You didn’t even know who You were, for that matter. There was still more to be done. You had to find the truth. You needed to find someone — that much was certain. But was the story the Maid had told correct about whom? And if it was... what about her? What about the woman whose name You couldn’t say? The woman who had so cheerfully called You “Master”?  And I hope... you can make your own list about me too. This is just the beginning, after all... We’ve got a long, long time ahead of us. Plenty enough to get to know each other, no? You must say her name. You must take her hand. You must make her smile once again!                  That’s right... The White-Haired Girl...    ...There is still a story left untold. The fourth door was all a lie. What do you mean? It was not some sweet little tragedy! The story you told was pure fantasy! That... No, that was the truth. That was where it all began. Because of what happened then, you spent innumerable years lost... until you showed up here, and... ...What?You reach out, grasping for it. You pull Yourself in. Your silhouette, which has been hazy until now, begins to take form. Your mind. Your consciousness. Your heart. Your soul. And Your body! Who... Who are you?The veil in Your mind dissipates. A crack forms in the shell encasing You. Then another. The invisible shackles chaining Your spirit fall to the floor. Reality fades in atop the indistinct, foggy world around You. Bony fingers appear before Your eyes. Long hair. Your voice... No...  My body. My fingers. My arms are frail and my joints weak, but despite my resemblance to the White-Haired Girl, I am not her. This... is who I am. I have finally reclaimed myself. You weren’t waiting for the White-Haired Girl... You were waiting for me!And that’s exactly why I came here! What... I have no idea... what you are talking about... I have always waited for the White-Haired — There was never a White-Haired Girl! There was only — This time — This time I must say her name. She is —  ... I am... Giselle...? No... No... I am not Giselle! I am a servant of the house. And I am the witch, the cause — You are not a witch! The witch is someone else! — ! Why do you insist that you’re the witch?! What changed you so much? I’m sure this is Giselle, but... why is she so different? What happened to the spark she used to have? Where did the light she once shone upon the world go? I have to remember. I must remember. This cannot end until I have. This is no longer a story. No, what I need to face is my past — and her heart. She was not even present in the story she made up. Everything about it had been changed. The past I lived and the wounds she bore were more grounded in harsh reality. Not wrapped in a film of fairytale magic. That was... the final tale, and it was all true! That’s how it happened! It was a bittersweet story! No. How can you not see this?! Yes, it was a beautiful tragedy, but was there even a scrap of humanity in it?!Behind the three preceding doors, there had been a constant thread of ugliness and conflicting motivations, but there was hardly a trace of that behind the fourth door. The characters felt like nothing more than characters. Is that what you want to turn it into? Is that what you want our history to become?! O — Our... history...? Our... But that... But I... I don’t... I don’t remember anything at all! You don’t remember anything... No... I don’t want to. I don’t need a past, or a future... All I have left inside me is uncertainty! Giselle... Ahh... No, no! That’s not... That is not my name! Please, stop trying to confuse me! I’m fine with things the way they are... If it means I don’t have to hurt, that’s all I want! Let me keep being a guide — not some foolish girl!Is that... Is that what she honestly desires? Does she want to cast aside her past for good? If so, then —  I can’t force her to do something she doesn’t want to. If she doesn’t reclaim herself on her own... I’ll never get to hear her say my name again... But if she wants to leave all that behind her... then it’s not my place to interfere. I’ve done things that would warrant her wanting to rewrite her past, erasing me entirely. But I think, more than anything... I’m afraid of hurting her, of breaking her any more than she already is. ...No, mine is a more cowardly fear. I’m just afraid she’ll no longer take my hand.  BGM: Bad End What should have been behind the door... was our life together. But for her, there’s nothing but misery there anymore. In our time together, and in me. Forget everything I’ve said. The tale within the fourth door was the whole truth. I can live with that. ... I would just ask you to allow me one thing... To remain by your side. I... Of course you may. I was the one who asked you... to forget about everything and live in eternal darkness with me. Hehe... what a silly question. Did you think I would ever say no? ... Right... You did, didn’t you? Yes, I did. Worry not, I will banish the memory. I am sure you were simply disoriented at having learned who you are. There is nothing to fear. Only happiness awaits you. ... Hehehe. I am getting excited now. What should we do first? Oh, I know. We should throw a party in commemoration of your decision to remain here with me. I shall prepare the most wonderful feast, my sweet girl. So you forget all about him, all right? ... If that... is what you desire...I will never be anyone, ever again.  Ahh, this is absolutely brilliant. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders. My centuries-long wish has finally been realized. The one thing I didn’t expect was for you to recover yourself, but it all turned out the same in the end. Hehe... You know what? Sure. I’ll stay out of your way. And I’ll pray for you both to be happy. Oh, thank goodness. You have awoken. I was getting worried there for a moment. What kind of herbal tea would you like to start your day with? I have some wonderful chamomile leaves, if you would like. Or perhaps your tastes have changed since last we met. Tell me, Master... ... No, that will do. As you wish. Say, Master... can I hope for you to compliment my tea again? To say it is the best you have ever had? ... Master? Oh, um, yes. I’m sure I will have something nice to say about it. Hehehe... You were never one to withhold your praise, Master. Such a gentle-mannered, kindhearted girl... ... I do recall telling her, when I saw her gathering strange weeds from the garden for her “herbal tea,” that doing so at this house, given its reputation, only made her look like a real witch. And how did she react to that? I think she puffed her cheeks and frowned, and then... ...I can’t remember. She thinks I’m the White-Haired Girl, yet she calls me “Master,” completely oblivious to how absurd that sounds. But she won’t say my name. Eventually, I’ll probably forget it too. My name, who I am, everything that’s happened to us. Washed away by the darkness, never to be found again. She’s smiling. I know it’s not real, but I honestly don’t care anymore. All that matters is that she’s smiling. 
Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 00:48 on Apr 30, 2018 |
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Apr 29, 2018 18:00
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And now I am confused. The maid is actually WHG in disguise and we're Michel? What?
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Apr 29, 2018 18:16
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From what I can tell, there was no white-haired girl at all. The maid was lying to us this entire time, trying to retroactively create history. But I don't think that she had any bad intentions; she seems more like another victim to me. For some reason, it appears to be important that we don't remember what really happened when we were Michel.
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Apr 29, 2018 19:06
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So the narrator's gender, which was always a mystery, is... even more of a mystery. They tried to claim Michel (I'm guessing, through process of elimination), a man, but the Maid insists they're a woman. That act of rewriting, of brainwashing, feels like violence. And what does this all have to do with the preceding stories? If WHG wasn't in Michel's story, was she ever in anyone else's?
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Apr 29, 2018 19:56
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You've got image 984 in there twice but it kinda works. Is that intentional?
ultrafilter fucked around with this message at 21:45 on Apr 29, 2018 |
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Apr 29, 2018 21:42
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The maid didn't really have any role in any of these stories except for Bestia's, but even then she "disappeared" when it was most convenient and the WHG entered the story.
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Apr 29, 2018 23:13
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ultrafilter posted:You've got image 984 in there twice but it kinda works. Is that intentional? Nope, fixed.
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Apr 29, 2018 23:31
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witchcore ricepunk posted:And what does this all have to do with the preceding stories? If WHG wasn't in Michel's story, was she ever in anyone else's? If Giselle, who we believe is the maid, was replaced by the WHG in Michel's story, then maybe she also replaced the maid in all the other stories as well. Maybe it's a defensive thing? The maid may be so traumatized by the events of her past that she's telling stories with the WHG in her place to make them easier to deal with? But this also messes up a lot of the stories as they appear jumbled in her mind.
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Apr 30, 2018 00:01
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