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tudabee
Jan 1, 2007

How many times must I remind you to WASH YOUR HANDS?

What is this talking about things like adults and being honest with our feelings nonsense?

... :3:

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Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?


(Morning... no, afternoon?)
MAAAASTEEEER!
...Ah.



BGM: Cicio

G-Good... morning...
Oh, come on. Put a little more oomph into it.
(Same Giselle as always...)
Hehehe. I must say, last night was something, Master. I didn’t know you had that in you. Ahh, just thinking about it...
Oww!
Hey — That hurt! What was that for?!
I was struck with an insatiable urge to whack you.
What ever happened to your “heartfelt desire” to do whatever you can for me? I don’t think hitting me counts!
You’re tough enough to get over a little bonk.
Nnnrh... You were being so nice yesterday! Where did that go?!
...So, would you like to explain why you’re making dirty jokes first thing in the morning?
Ah, yeah, just... I was trying to lighten the mood to hide my embarrassment...
...
(Fair enough...)
All right, but could you not joke about that in the future? I didn’t actually do anything to you.
N-No, you didn’t. Sorry.
... Say, uh, could I ask you something?
Yes?
You hardly ever use my name. It makes us feel so distant. Could you do something about that, maybe?
...



No, no, no, no, no! That is not you at all! Just go with my name, please!
W-We’ve graduated from a master-servant relationship to... a romantic relationship, but that is a bit much.
Romantic... relationship...
Exactly. So, uh, in honor of the new us...
let’s make this last, all right, M-Michel?
A-All right.

At the time, the light that had entered our life seemed unreal and fantastical, but I prayed that it would, indeed, last. In hope of an equally bright future, I allowed myself to rejoice in the moment, letting the unconquered shadows that lurked in my peripheral remain unseen.



BGM: Murk

Giselle still stands before me, as she did within the door, but I struggle to reconcile the two scenes.
They are both real. They are both her. The lively, spunky girl of the past and the lifeless girl of the present are both Giselle.
As different as they seem, they are both her.

Why don’t... we stop there?
...
It was a wonderful story. They overcame their troubles and lived happily ever after.
Is that not good enough?
“It could not be worse than where we are now”? All we have to do, then, is erase the “now.”
Throw everything away and start over from where it was better.
...
(“You were able to bear ’em because they weren’t your tragedies.”)
(And that goes for more than just me...)
(Actually, as a matter of fact... those words apply even better to her than me...)
The ending is already set in stone! It’s already happened! What point is there in watching it again?!
All that accomplishes is making me relive it all!
The ending has not been written!
We are both here now... which means our end still lies ahead of us!
...
Then...
can I ask you...
to promise not to let go of my hand, no matter what?



(Now I understand...)
(That was a request,)
(even if she didn’t perceive it as such.)

In place of a verbal response, I squeeze her hand in mine. I know where this tale is heading — toward tragedy. All the other doors we visited ended in tragedy, and ours is no exception. But perhaps what’s waiting at the end of this one... is even more dire than I imagine.

The door to our past swings open once more, behind which lies the end of me, and the beginning of her.



Right on schedule, the monthly delivery arrived, but in it was a letter that would dramatically change our lives. My father, Antonin, had fallen ill and died. I presumed it was the witch’s doing, but she was silent, refusing to respond to my questions. If it wasn’t her, then he must have died naturally. It seemed more than a little tasteless to celebrate someone’s death, but good taste and reality do not always agree.

I was extremely relieved to hear the news. The man had raped Giselle. He had tried to have me killed. And now, he was gone from this world. I had been waiting for this moment for years. His passing had another effect as well: my “death” could be revoked. Many years ago, my brother had told me that when he succeeded our father, he would welcome me back to the Bollinger estate, and I could be part of the family once more.

Which meant this letter signaled the end of my banishment.



...
Not sure how to feel about it?
Yeah... rejoicing doesn’t seem really appropriate...
...
But this means you can return home now, right?
In theory. My brother is set to take control of the estate... so he should be accommodating.
...
...
...I’m going to write a letter, have them send us a carriage. It is much too long a distance to walk.
...All right.
...
I’m excited. What should we do first when we get back to the capital?
Ooh, I know, how about you stop by my place!
My mom and sister won’t believe their eyes.



BGM: The March of Time

The future I had only vaguely envisioned was now within my reach. I had always spoken of this moment predicated with “eventually,” like it was some kind of unobtainable fantasy, but now that it was practically a reality, I realized I hadn’t actually given it much thought.

Hey... are you still awake?
...I am.
Not a great night for sleeping, huh?
...
Are you thinking about your family?
It all seems so... surreal.
...Yeah, it does. This house is like a desert island, cut off from the world, which makes everything feel kind of like a fairy tale sometimes.
...
Even... what we have...
From time to time, I get the feeling that nothing is real,
that the “outside world” is just a figment of my imagination.
That my entire life... only ever existed within these walls.
...Are you nervous?
...



I’m sorry. I’m finally able to take you back to the capital, and I can’t seem to get past my own negativity...
It’s only natural to be nervous.
I am too. I haven’t spent nearly as long as you living in this mansion,
but I know how you feel, because I feel the same way.
Not knowing what the future holds — it’s scary.
...
You know, I was thinking... I would be okay with staying.
...
I mean, I would love to return to the capital, and I miss my family dearly,
but even if I never get to see them again, in no way would I consider myself unhappy.
I honestly think I’ve got a pretty wonderful life.
...
If you’re not comfortable going back to that house... and you’re just saying you’ll endure it for me, Giselle...
there are other paths we can take.
You could live with your family... or you could remain here in the mansion...
Not at all, no. I want to.
No matter where I go, you’ll be there with me, Michel. It’s true, I am nervous not knowing what the future holds,
but not in a “scared something bad might happen” kind of way. It’s more of a jittery, excited anxiousness...
I’m confident the two of us can overcome anything, no matter what obstacles may come our way.
Together, we can create an even more wonderful future.
...
Don’t worry, Michel. The future’s nothing to be afraid of.
You make it sound like I’m paralyzed with fear.
Hehe... but you are, aren’t you?
...
Hey, now! Don’t give me that look!
(Once again, she’s the one pushing me forward...)
...



...Thank you.
...
Hehe...
What?
Nothing, nothing. I’m feeling kind of sentimental, thinking about how we’ve only got a little time left here.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was an important part of my life.
Indeed...
...
...
...Say.
...Yes?
Um... I, uh... well...
...?
I think I could... handle... it... right now, probably...
“It”?
Oh, use your head, you little — !
...
...I don’t follow.
Ugh... How can you be so dense?!
I mean... you know, touching, and so forth... You know, uh... take the next step...
...
I’m saying... I’m feeling up for that... right now...
...
Aaaah, it’s not proper for a woman to bring up that subject, is it?!
B-But I did kind of ask you to wait... and I feel bad leading you on for so long...
...
Um... yeah... I’m sorry...
Nnh...



I-I’m just really emotional, that’s all!
You don’t need to force yourself if you’re not ready. I can wait as long as you need.
Besides...
Besides?
...Never mind...
...?
It’s fine. There’s no need to rush things. ...You don’t need to worry.
...
...Yeah...



One to my brother, and one to my mother. One so Giselle could return, and one so I could be myself. To demonstrate who I was. I had to prove that I was not cursed. For failing to do that... would not only bring her grief, it might become the final crack in the identity I had built up for myself. I had to convince her that I was neither demon nor angel, but a human man who had fallen in love with a human woman.

However,
I was too foolish to realize
that the future I envisioned
was nothing but a fantasy.
Had I been able to grasp that,
then maybe I could have taken her somewhere far away,
where no one knew who we were.
Where things might have turned out differently...

resurgam40
Jul 22, 2007

Battler, the literal stupidest man on earth. Why are you even here, Battler, why did you come back to this place so you could fuck literally everything up?
Whoever coined the phrase, "to fall in love," got it very right. Because it is like falling, like jumping off the highest mountain peak with another in your arms. God, how exhilarating it must be, to whoosh through the air like that, to pretend one is flying, with all the world stretched around you, best view in all the world... but the world is there, gravity is a constant, and once the adrenaline rush clears, on begins to think about the lack of a parachute. Because no matter how long you stare into the face of your beloved or sharing a particularly good sunrise, the ground approaches. The end approaches, as it must, for even when love is eternal and true, life is... not.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?


(I’d rather if we left when it was clear.)
(It would be terrible if the coachman rolled the carriage because he couldn’t see where we were going.)
...

If there wasn’t so much fog, I would probably have been able to see little columns of orange evening sunlight fighting their way through the trees, but the milky white mist seemed to swallow up all the light, leaving nothing for the surrounding area. It was rather dreary weather.

(I wonder when they’ll be here.)
...
(Although...)
(if they never do show up, that’s okay too.)

I was finally able to return to the capital with Michel. To see my family again. And that was wonderful. It was like a dream come true. But it wouldn’t disappoint me if that didn’t end up happening. I didn’t care where I ended up, as long as Michel was there with me.

(That’s all that matters.)
...
...I should probably close the windows.
The coach isn’t likely to show up at night, I don’t think.
...
...?



(Light?)

And it wasn’t just the one. Looking closer revealed several more flickering spots. They moved up and down, slowly but rhythmically. As more and more came into view, my mind began seeing them as people carrying torches.

(They’re coming this way?)
(Could they be our escorts... back to the capital? Though...)
...Wha?
As soon as the thought “there sure are a lot” popped into my head, something whizzed past my cheek.
What? Huh? What was... Huh? Why, what...?



:siren:BGM: Fábula Escrita:siren:



...!
Wha — ah...

The arrow had flown through the window and pierced the opposite wall. Had Michel not knocked me out of the way...

Giselle... Giselle! Are you okay?!
Ah... I’m fine... But what — why did... What’s... going on?
Ngh...
Never mind that. Right now, we need to run!
Huh...? W-Wait, Michel!
Now! There’s no time to talk!
Stay out of sight of the windows!
G-Got it!

He grabbed my hand and broke into a run. A relentless storm of arrows showered through the windows we had worked so hard to get open a year ago. This wasn’t what we had gone through that all effort for...



What was happening? Why did we have to run? Why were those people firing arrows at us? With the wave of questions came a wave of fear. I couldn’t say anything. The sheer terror had frozen my jaw in place.

Get ready!

I nodded, squeezing his hand tight. I knew it would just be another obstacle to his safe escape, but I didn’t want to let go of his hand. I was afraid that if I did, I would never be able to hold it again.



Nnh!
Nng... hah!
A-Are you all right...?
I’m... fine... But how... There are people out front too...?
...
Hah, hahh... D-Dammit... Why?!

Several arrows were sticking out of the floor before us. Beyond the door — which Michel had managed to shut almost immediately — rang a cacophony of whoosh, thump, whoosh, thump. We were...

W-We can’t escape...?
Why... What’s going on...?
Dammit!

With a deep scowl, Michel barred the door, and all the while, the arrows kept flying. The panic in the air kept growing thicker.

I — I don’t understand... How did they...
O-Only a handful of people even know about this pla —



Ah...
Th-This is... all my fault...
It’s because I told the villagers about this place!
They think a demon lives here, not a human!
S-So they’re here to tear down the house!
Th-They made weapons, bows, just for this!
I don’t...
— !
Aah!

There was a deep rumble, and the ground below us shook. I almost fell to the floor.

They’re trying to break down the door, it seems...
Michel...
I — I’m so sorry... Th-This is all my fault!
Because of what I did — !
...
No.
...What?
It’s not your fault. It’s mine.
Michel...?
I challenged her... and because I did...
she made my curse real!
What are you talking about... Michel?
— !
A-Aah...
Ngh... This way! Run!



At the far end of the room sat a small door.

Wh-Where does it lead?

I had been aware of the door’s presence, but I had never gone inside it. Something about it seemed... somewhat different than the rest of the house. I wasn’t sure how to describe it exactly, but it felt like shadows had taken root here.

The observation tower.
A tower...? B-But if we go up there, we’re putting ourselves in a corner!
It doesn’t matter where we go! They have us trapped!
But there’s a chance that up here...

He didn’t finish that thought, however. He opened the door, leading me into the tower, his face deathly pale.



In regular intervals along the wall were rectangular windows. A layer of fog still lay thick across the land. Peering out into it made me feel like we had been thrown into a dreamworld — if it weren’t for the orange spots of torchlight surrounding the mansion. The silhouettes holding the torches —

(Is that armor...?)

— appeared to be knights.

Ngh, hah... M — Michel! T-Tell me,
why do you think this is your fault?!
What is your “curse”?!
Nnh...
Y-Your curse...
it isn’t... just the color of your hair and eyes, is it?
There’s more to it, isn’t there?!
...
There’s something else, isn’t there?!
— !

Michel’s gaze was firmly directed forward as he frantically led me up the stairs. We were breathing hard, and the sound of it echoed against the tower’s stone walls. Our panicked hearts were beating so hard, I was afraid they might be able to hear it outside.



A pile of discarded rope lay unceremoniously at the foot of a door, presumably once used to seal it shut. The door itself was deeply weathered and rotting in places. It had obviously been left sitting in disrepair even longer than Michel had lived here.

What is this...
Inside!



Frigid air nipped at my skin — and it wasn’t a pleasant, refreshing kind of cool, but a bitter, oppressive cold. This room felt unlike any other in the mansion.

This is... an observation tower? You can’t even...
There once would have been windows allowing you to see in all directions around the mansion, but all that remains now is that tiny opening near the ceiling.
If we hide out here... then there’s a chance... they might not find us.
...
Ah!
It sounds like they broke down the door.
...
Don’t worry... they won’t find us...
And when they give up their search... then we can get out of here...
I’m sure it will all turn out all right...
...

Michel’s voice was quivering. As was his hand in mine.

Michel...

We huddled together, feeling each other’s warmth in our arms. My free hand clenched his shirt for dear life.



What?
I’m... I’m to blame for this... It’s my fault you’re in this mess!
...
The pain you had to experience... your being sent to this place... and what’s happening now...
can all be traced back to my being born...
I’m so, so sorry!
...

Why was he apologizing? Why did he insist this was his fault? Why wouldn’t he tell me what his “curse” was? Why were people trying to kill us?

...Right... Right, those people were trying to kill us. Putting it into words like that made the fear that much more real. The arrows they fired weren’t threats. They meant to kill us.

Michel...
...

But with Michel trembling in my arms, I couldn’t bring myself to ask those questions. What meaning would those answers even have with death lurking so close behind us? All I could do was pray. Pray that he was right, that they wouldn’t find us and we would be able to escape.

However —



— !
Nrh...

My hopes were shattered by the sound of voices from below.

I could hear a faint clanking of armor. Our grips on each other tightened, and our trembling intensified. Fear swelled within the tower, making us its slaves.

Ngh... Giselle...
...

We were both terrified. And who wouldn’t be? Fairy tale heroes could be magically courageous in the face of overwhelming danger, but they weren’t real. The fear of my impending death, drawing nearer and nearer with each passing moment, almost drove me to madness. I couldn’t think clearly. My heart was having trouble keeping up. My head was a big, white mess.

We were supposed to return to the capital, start a new life, finally obtain our happiness. It was right there at our fingertips — enough happiness to make up for Michel’s ten years of isolation, and enough to erase that nightmare from my memory forever. What had we done to have that taken away from us? We just loved each other and wanted a quiet life together — nothing outrageous.

I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to die.
I don’t want to die!

But what scared me the most was being separated from Michel!



They...
If what they’re after is money or valuables,
we can offer them everything in the mansion! We don’t need any of it!
If they don’t want us to return to the capital, we can tell them we’ll stay here! They might be willing to talk it over!
I don’t care if I lose everything else —
as long as I have you, I can survive anywhere!

All that mattered was that we had our lives. So long as the two of us still breathed... But...









Nngh...!
Aaah...

Despair hung over us like the fog outside. There were no heretics, no witches, no unholy ones here... but they would probably never listen to us. The moment we stepped outside of this room, we would be dead, no matter what we said.

M-Michel... I — I’m... I’m a-all... I’m all right.
It’s okay, Michel... I-I — I’m not scared. Y-You’re here with me, after all.
I’m fine, it’s all fine... So please, hold me... until it’s a-all over.
Please, stay with me!
...
Ahh... Finally, you speak...
Michel?

He wasn’t looking at me, though. His unfocused eyes were directed upward — not toward any particular point, but wandering aimlessly. His purplish lips appeared to move, as though he was speaking, but no sound came out.

H-Hey... Michel... are you all right...?
...
Come back to me, Michel!

I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook, but he didn’t even seem to notice. No matter how many times I called to him, he didn’t look down from the emptiness above.

...
Michel!
Giselle...
...!

Finally, after far too long, his gaze slid down to meet mine. He looked defeated, exhausted, and cornered all at once. I was scared too, but his fear seemed to have consumed him entirely.



...
I never thought anything good would become of my life.
I never thought I would find anyone who truly understood me, who would be happy to have my love...
And for that, I hated the world...
I was in constant torment... living in the shadows.
But then... a single ray of light shone down on me...
Michel...
You, Giselle. You delivered me from the darkness.
...
I’m scared, Giselle... I’m terrified...
I used to think my life was meaningless... that it didn’t matter if I lived or died. But now, I can’t stop shaking...
That’s perfectly normal! I’m scared to death too! But —
But what scares me most is losing you.
M-Michel...

I should have noticed. Noticed his arms were tensing up. Noticed — and stopped him.

So please, allow me to repay you!
I said I would do anything for you, so let me do this!
I haven’t given you anything; I haven’t done anything for you;
so give me one final chance!
Mi —





— ?! Wh-What? Why? The door...
I can’t open it!

I shoved on the door, trying to go after him, but it wouldn’t budge even the slightest bit — it was as though there had never been a door there at all, merely a wall disguised as one. It wasn’t someone holding it shut from the other side, either. I pushed and I pulled with all my might, but I couldn’t even manage to eke out the tiniest crack.

Michel! Michel! What did you do to the door?! Come on, get back in here!
...
I — I don’t want to lose you either!
...
Say something, Michel! You’re out there, aren’t you?! Please... Please, don’t do anything rash!
They’re going to kill you if you’re out there!
Giselle... The witch told me...
Wha — ?!
...that she would ensure your safety...
Ngh... Michel... She —
She isn’t real!
There is no witch talking to you!
It’s all in your head!
A figment of your imagination created to alleviate your loneliness!
...
Rest assured... She does not lie...
Michel!
Please listen... You are a wonderful woman, Giselle. Spirited, true to yourself, deeply sympathetic...
You are not to blame... for how difficult your life has been. Most of the fault lies with me... and a bit of bad fortune...
But that’s all behind you now. Once this is over... you can start anew...
What are you talking about?!
S-So, survive... Live a good, fulfilling life.
Move past this... live your life... and always love your family. I know you can do it...
That... is my wish for you.
N-No... I don’t... I don’t want that!
I want to be with you! No one else but you!
I don’t want to let you die!
— !



Death to the heretic!
Death to the heretic!
DEATH TO THE HERETIC!
G-Get back in here, Michel! Open the door! If my choice is to live on without you, I’d rather — !
Your scars... will heal... You’ll find a nice man and have a wonderful family...
Why — ?!
Thank you, Giselle... for bringing light to my world...
Don’t say that!
But if...
If there is a next life... I hope you don’t mind if I pray that we’re able to meet again...
That we can find each other once more... in another world...
Michel!



...
It is our holy duty as knights of the Church to deliver punishment unto the heathen who made a pact with the Devil.
...
Come on, Michel! Open the door!
You are sentenced to death, your body to be hanged upon the cross for three days and three nights, wherein your unholy flesh shall be purified by the fires of Heaven.
Why... What are you doing here...?
Open the door! Michel, please! Listen to me! You can hear me out there, can’t you?!
You shall now be executed.
Hahh...
Do you have any final words?
Who... Who is it you’re sentencing to death? “Michel Bollinger,” or —
A demon child, naturally. Or a witch, perhaps.
Please, open the door! Why won’t you open it?!
He isn’t unholy or impure! He’s a perfectly normal human! And a very sweet man!
I’m — Yes, I’m the witch! The witch is in here! I’m the one you want to execute!
Kill me... Execute meeeeeeee!
Now I see, Giselle... This world —
Kill him!



...
Aah... ggh... aaaaaaaah...

So many blades pierced my flesh. A sword in my chest, lances in my arms and shoulders, arrows in both of my legs. I could hardly even tell what hurt anymore. There was an unpleasant hssssssss sound in the tower, almost like a heavy rain. It was the sound of my blood spilling onto the stone.

Red... It was red... just like anyone else’s blood. It didn’t flow into unnatural patterns. It didn’t turn into black, demonic shadows. It didn’t cause anyone who touched it harm. It was just ordinary, red blood. Regardless, this body was probably still cursed. It... It had to be...

I couldn’t hear Giselle’s voice anymore. I hoped she was safe, and alive... I prayed that at least she would be protected... That the witch... would keep her promise...



Darkness everlasting... dragged me down into its pits...

Nnrgh...
I... be...lieved... in... you...



Michel — ! Hey, say something... Talk to me...
Hey... What’s going on? What’s going on here?
No... This can’t be happening!

An impossibly heavy thud came from beyond the door, and with it, Michel fell silent. Then, intermittent squelching sounds as something slid down the door.

Aaah... aaaaaaaah... No, no... No, this can’t be... Why...?
Whyyyyyyyy?!

I pounded on the door with all my strength, but still it refused to give, the skin on my hands eventually going raw and beginning to seep blood.

Whyyyy?!
Why should Michel have to — have to be killed?! Tell me, why?!
T-Take me with you! Please! Don’t leave me behind!
That man isn’t a witch! He isn’t cursed!
I’m... I’m cursed, not him! So don’t hang him! Don’t humiliate him like that!
Kill me instead!
Pleeeeeeeease!

Again and again and again I pounded on the door. But the self-described knights on the other side seemed to not even be aware of my presence. They seemed unable to hear my cries. Their armor clanking with each step, they began to descend the staircase, and with it, I could hear the sound of something being dragged slowly across the floor.

No... Don’t take him away...
Stop! Don’t take Michel away from me!
I’m begging you!



My hope was for naught. The knights... took him away. Took him somewhere out of my reach. For all eternity.

Don’t take him away from meeeeeeeeeeee!



Michel...

After much, much too long... the door swung open all on its own. It happened so unceremoniously, it was hard to believe I had actually been trapped inside. I had no idea how much time had passed, but the chill in the air suggested it was deep into the night. And with the biting cold... there was the stench of blood.



Why?!
Michel!
I never... I never wanted this!
Aah... aaaah...
Aaaaaaaahh...
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!

You didn’t understand at all, Michel... You didn’t know the depth of my feelings for you... You didn’t know how intensely I wanted you... How fervently I loved you... I was never going to be able to find someone else... and live happily with them... It had to be you...

The thought of anyone else touching me... terrified me... You just didn’t understand...

I don’t want...
I don’t want to live in this stupid world!







Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 19:52 on Jun 13, 2018

Toalpaz
Mar 20, 2012

Peace through overwhelming determination
:smith:

And then cue someone asking her to make a contract.

(I think Michel's brother sold him out.)

witchcore ricepunk
Jul 6, 2003

The Golden Witch
Who Solved the Epitaph


A Probability of 1/2,578,917
I... hmm. Well, that's hosed. Where could we possibly go from here? I guess, tracking back, I'm struggling to see where Michel and Giselle fit into the "later" stories, if this is supposed to be the incident that sowed the seed for all of the tragic events behind the other doors. I have no idea how the game is going to bring it all together, so I'm excited!

PetraCore
Jul 20, 2017

👁️🔥👁️👁️👁️BE NOT👄AFRAID👁️👁️👁️🔥👁️

witchcore ricepunk posted:

I... hmm. Well, that's hosed. Where could we possibly go from here? I guess, tracking back, I'm struggling to see where Michel and Giselle fit into the "later" stories, if this is supposed to be the incident that sowed the seed for all of the tragic events behind the other doors. I have no idea how the game is going to bring it all together, so I'm excited!
And we still have to go over the story of the original witch, Morgana. Giselle and Michel's tragedy is a basis for all the stuff we've seen so far, but there being an actual vengeful spirit influencing all this is something we know is going on, considering she's presumably the one who wrote that fake version and tried to get them to take it. It's just not something Giselle had any insight into because it happened before her time.

...all those times Giselle was waxing poetic about the white-haired-girl's albino beauty was totally a thirst for Michel, haha.

Toalpaz
Mar 20, 2012

Peace through overwhelming determination

PetraCore posted:

...all those times Giselle was waxing poetic about the white-haired-girl's albino beauty was totally a thirst for Michel, haha.

Yup, that's some fine pining that was going on.

I think it connects to everything else because at this point Giselle must make a contract with the witch. Perhaps to reconnect her with Michel at the cost of herself? Her memories? Her real relationship with Michel (replaced with some purgatory fantasy)? Something personal for sure.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?


BGM: Murk

I remember everything now...
You died on that day...
You were killed.
You disappeared from this world... and left me behind.
That’s right...
I remember.
I remember the pain... the agony of death... and the fear.
I did, indeed,
die that day.



Do you have any idea how it felt...
to feel you dying...
from the other side of that door?
Giselle...
I wanted you to take me with you...
...
Is this what you so wanted to see?
My memories... the traces of my life on this earth...
end there.
In order to find your truth,
we need more of the story.
...
Very well, then...
If you want more story... I will tell you more.
What comes next is both a continuation... and a brand new tale...



...
When you’ve heard it all,
I expect you to commend me
for not forgetting
how to smile.



An arctic wind blows past me.
At the same time, I’m gripped with an overwhelming urge to break down into tears.
Perhaps this...
is the solitude she felt for so long.
I have to face this. I have a responsibility to her to do so.

Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 16:37 on Jun 14, 2018

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
And with that tiny update, Chapter 5 has come to a close. I'll take a small break here to prepare for the sixth door, but I've improved my text parser again, so I don't expect it will be very long.

ultrafilter
Aug 23, 2007

It's okay if you have any questions.


ProfessorProf posted:

I remember everything now...
You died on that day...
You were killed.
You disappeared from this world... and left me behind.
That’s right...
I remember.
I remember the pain... the agony of death... and the fear.
I did, indeed,
die that day.

That's not all the maid, is it?

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
I believe it is, but I can't check from the office. Can someone confirm?

Sacrificial Toast
Nov 5, 2009

Just checked, everything from "That's right..." to "die that day." is Michel

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?






A tale of a foolish, naïve girl. Looking back on it now, I’m ashamed of everything. But I will tell you my story, in its entirety, without embellishments.

I ask that you please... not let go of my hand.



Blood had seeped into the fabric, and it was beginning to dry. When I clenched it in my hand, it made soft crackling sounds. The oppressive stench of death lingered in the tower.

...
...
Michel...
there’s no point in a life without you... You know that, right?
Have a wonderful family?
You know I can’t do that...
...
Hey, Michel...
answer me... Come back to me...
I don’t care if it’s as a ghost...
I just need you here with me...
Come back to me...
Talk to me about nothing... and about everything...
Be irritated with me when I do something stupid...
Scoff at me whenever I tell a bad joke...
Trounce me at chess again...
Put your arms around me... one more time...
Come on...
I’m begging you...
...
If you won’t come back to me...
then I’ll... go to you...
I don’t care if that’s not what you wanted for me —
this world without you... is meaningless!



BGM: Everybody's Crying

— ?!



Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Rather disappointing, to be honest.
Who — Who are you?! Where are you?!
Hah, hehehe... Quite daft, aren’t you?
Within these walls, I am everywhere.
And you’ve heard of me before.
Wha...?
I — I have no —
Heavens, you are slow. Is that pretty head of yours only for decoration?
Wh-What? B-But, no... there’s no one else...
You might be thicker than these walls, my dear. Although... I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.
You never did believe anything Michel said about me.
You thought he was going mad!
— ?!
Ahaha... This is brilliant.
No... Th-There’s no way... I-It can’t be...
The cursed witch... Morgana?



You... You actually exist...?
I most certainly do, my dear. As I recall, you don’t believe in the supernatural, do you?
But it’s hard to deny when that very witch is talking to you right this moment.
...
Michel was not even slightly mad, my dear. I told him he was better off without his sanity, but he refused to listen.
He wasn’t deranged — his surroundings were. His environment, the people around him, his whole world.
Can you imagine how dreadful that must have been?
To be the only sane resident in a world gone utterly mad?
It’s a miracle he managed to keep his head.
Remember what you said just before he died, my dear?
You said it was all in his head.
You said he couldn’t tell the difference between illusion and reality.
You said he had long since gone insane. Shouted it at the top of your lungs.
N-No, that’s not what I meant!
Ahh, poor, poor Michel. If only you had believed him about the witch.
...
I feel bad for you too, though. You have my pity.
What did you ever do to deserve this? Oh, and just to be perfectly clear, I played no part in either your or Michel’s misfortune.
The only force to blame for that... is fate.
You were a good, honest, joyful, lovable woman,
and look at how the world treated you.
Hehehehe...
...May I ask you something?



Yes, it was. That was what Michel wanted.
Once... I told him I would grant his wish.
So I did as he asked.
...
Though it looks like that ended up causing you even more pain. How tragic.
...So. You’re planning to die? Are you hoping to reunite with him in Heaven?
That plan’s destined to fail from the outset, my dear. God teaches that suicide is a sin, and you’ll go to Hell for it.
Then —
I will not kill you.
Why not?!
Because I swore to Michel that I would save your life, hehe...
...!
Poor, poor Giselle. If you have any other wish, I’ll be happy to grant it. I can’t bear to see you so miserable.
A wish...
You have but a single desire right now: to see him once more.
...
Isn’t that right, Giselle?
Are you saying... you can... make that happen...?
You’ll bring him back to life for me...?
The forces of life and death are outside of my realm. That is God’s territory — or the angels’...
...



His... reconstruction?
Yes. You can meet him again — not in this life, but in some future life.
Just imagine it: finding your beloved again after overcoming so much tragedy.
Ten, twenty... maybe a hundred long years from now, you’re finally reunited.
Doesn’t that sound marvelous? True, unparalleled love in its purest form!
What do you think?
...
Just because you can bring his soul back...
doesn’t make it Michel...
I want to be with him, that brusque, impenetrable, slightly immature, but gentle as a butterfly man — the man who sincerely, deeply loved me!
If it’s the same soul in a different body, can you still call him my Michel?!
Hehe... hehehe... ahahahahaha...
— ?!
Ahh, my apologies. You beat me to the punchline, and you did so with such ardor you threw me off balance.
You’re exactly right. The idea that, if your love is strong enough, you can both be reborn and have exactly the same relationship,
is utter fairytale nonsense.
You must be the same people to have the same love,
which is why I am not promising his rebirth or reincarnation, but his reconstruction.
...
Your wish can become reality, Giselle. As long as you wish for it with all your heart, it can come true.
I’ll wish for his reconstruction as well. You have a witch asking to make this happen, my dear, so you can be confident that it will bear fruit.
And you wish for him to remain as himself. If he truly loves you, and he too wishes to reunite with you,
your wish shall be granted.
Will you really... wish with me?
I most certainly will, my poor, pitiful, dear Giselle. I shall offer up my most heartfelt prayers for you.



I can’t guarantee your reconstruction though.
...What?
I only said I guaranteed his. Michel’s is the only reconstruction I will wish for. I will not ask for yours.
Wh-Why not?
You’re not looking at a benevolent, wish-granting goddess or an angel with a magic bow-and-arrow —
you’re looking at a cursed witch.
...
Then how am I... to be with him again?
I can offer you but one option that will allow you to reunite with your reconstructed Michel.
T-Tell me! What do I have to do?!
You must live. Here, with me.
...Live with you? What do you mean?
It was Michel who resurrected me, but he could not serve as my guide.
I have work to do. But I cannot do it alone. I need a guide to assist me.
Because as you can see, I have no body.
If this house did not exist in this world, then perhaps I might be able to give myself form — my soul’s form.
I don’t understand anything you’re saying...
You don’t need to understand. All I need from you...
is for you to show your utmost hospitality to the people I’m expecting to show up at this mansion someday.
Entertain your guests?
That’s right, my dear. Michel isn’t the only one whose reconstruction I’m wishing for. There are others...



...!
So I want you to serve as a maid and watch over them when they arrive. And until then, keep the house in good condition.
Wh-What... What are you scheming...?
Is that something you truly need to know, my dear?
All you need to do is wish. Pray for the day your beloved appears before you again.
For the day he wraps his arms around you once more.
...
One word, Giselle. That’s all I require.
Do you want to see him again? Do you want to hear his voice again?
I can promise you you’ll have your happiness back.
Ah...
What reason is there to hesitate? There isn’t one. Or are you simply going to give up?
Hehehe... I wonder, what would happen if you said no? If you disappear from this world,
how will Michel react when he comes back? Will he be sad? Angry? Or will he forget about you...
and fall into the arms of another woman?
N-No... he can’t!
Then make up your mind.
Will you come with me, or will you throw it all away?
I-I...
I...



- that she was just telling me what I wanted to hear. But I believed her. I accepted her proposition. As unbelievable as it sounded, my desire for it to be real overpowered everything.

It was impossible not to grasp at the straws she was dangling in front of me. That was all I could do at the time. The witch’s voice also had an inexplicable... power to it. It made me believe, as outrageous as it was, that she really could bring you back — “reconstruct” you. Maybe because I had seen her turn a door into an immovable wall. Or maybe because I had heard her disembodied voice. But I don’t think those are enough to explain it... My guess is... she had me under her spell.

That was the moment I became the Maid. But I assure you, I was, at that point, still the same Giselle you knew and loved.



(The sound of the rain... never seems to stop...)
(Am I hallucinating it, maybe?)

From the moment I lent my ear to the witch’s sweet temptations, the mansion underwent an unimaginable transformation. No light shone through the windows, despite them still being unobstructed — not morning, day, or evening. In fact, the concepts of “morning,” “day,” and “evening” did not seem to exist. The darkness resembled that of when the windows had all been sealed off, but there was something more fundamentally... unreal about it. Like it was hovering over a vast, all-consuming abyss within a constant haze of malice. I felt like I had been cast into some unknown realm, and that was why there was nothing beyond the windows.

And the house was not the only thing that underwent changes — I too was no exception. In the blink of an eye, all my basic human urges vanished. I stopped feeling hungry, and I no longer needed sleep. Naturally, I was bewildered by what was happening to me, what I was turning into.

(I think I’ll take a look around... Maybe there have been other changes...)

So I meandered through the mansion’s halls. My original intent was to explore the entire house, but I found myself drawn toward one room in particular.



BGM: Murk

There was no light, not a trace of color remaining in your chambers. But the bed was the same shape, the walls the same texture, the curtains the same design as when you had been alive.

Michel...
I’m praying... I’m always praying... that someday, we’ll meet again...
...
...
Oh, there’s... something hidden under the bed...
What could it be?
It’s... that painting.
...



(why he got so angry about me seeing this...)
(I’m sure it’s something he didn’t want to be reminded of... Perhaps having to do with his family.)
(I was right not pressing him about it, th — )
Wha...



Haaah...! Wh-What the...
D-Did the painting just... s —
smirk at me...?
...O-Oh god!
Aah!
Ngh...
(Oh jeez, Giselle... What are you doing tripping over yourself?)
(It was just that accursed witch messing with your head...)
(No need to get spooked over a tasteless prank...)
...
(Ah... when I stumbled, I guess I knocked a drawer open...)
(There’s something inside. Letters, it looks like?)
I shouldn’t touch these... They’re not mine.
But...
...
(I want something of Michel’s to have... Something to remember him by...)
(His letters would be in his handwriting... They would contain his words...)
Please forgive me, Michel. I don’t mean you any ill will, but I’m going to take these.
I must say, there are an impressive number of —



(What the — What on earth?!)
(It’s like someone dumped an inkwell on every page! But why?)
(W-Was this... the witch’s doing too?)
(Yeah... it has to be. It must have been her!)
(I-It definitely wasn’t you, Michel... was it?)
...
...
....
(The front door... I wonder what it’s like outside...)
...



What’s going on?
(The bar isn’t set, but it won’t budge an inch...)
(It’s just like... up in the tower...)
...
I know, the windows...
They should open, then I can —
...



What the heck is going on?
(It’s like there’s an invisible wall in front of the window...)
(My hand won’t go any farther...)
...
Ahaha... This is rich... What else can I do but laugh?
What in the world...?
This is madness...
...
Ggh!
Hurry up, Michel... Return to me... and get me out of here!
Please... get me out of here!
Nrg... nnh...!

I had no idea how to explain anything that had happened to the mansion. But it was clear enough that I was imprisoned within its walls. I was all alone in a nebulous sphere of bleak darkness. And beyond its walls lay void. The layout of the house remained unchanged, but I felt as though I had wandered into a twisting labyrinth. I could cry, but there was no one there to soothe me.

All it did was provoke her disembodied cackling, which she followed with,

ultrafilter
Aug 23, 2007

It's okay if you have any questions.


I think the witch might be up to something.

Ytlaya
Nov 13, 2005

I feel like the Michel/Giselle episode is actually considerably less depressing than most of the others. The others (with the exception of the fake version of Michel's) generally have a tragedy centered around the core romance failing due to tragic mistakes/misunderstandings, but in this episode their relationship stays strong and they're just screwed over by fate.

resurgam40 posted:

Whoever coined the phrase, "to fall in love," got it very right. Because it is like falling, like jumping off the highest mountain peak with another in your arms. God, how exhilarating it must be, to whoosh through the air like that, to pretend one is flying, with all the world stretched around you, best view in all the world... but the world is there, gravity is a constant, and once the adrenaline rush clears, on begins to think about the lack of a parachute. Because no matter how long you stare into the face of your beloved or sharing a particularly good sunrise, the ground approaches. The end approaches, as it must, for even when love is eternal and true, life is... not.

Um, pretty sure that most people's loves don't inevitably end up in grand tragedy (or that the phrase "fall in love" is referring to the inevitable end to love resulting from human mortality).

Ytlaya fucked around with this message at 07:17 on Jun 19, 2018

DaniDaniDanica
Dec 25, 2012
Belatedly realizing Giselle as the maid likely retained her fondness for the garden because of the rose :saddowns:

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?


BGM: Murk

One day, I decided I would read the books left in the library. Despite there being more than a hundred volumes, I finished every one of them in what felt like no time at all. My life was a neverending cycle. Day in and day out, day in and day out...

The house had no visitors. No one — rather, nothing at all set foot upon the property. There were no signs of other life whatsoever there. No birds singing in the morning. No cats sunbathing in the garden. No mice scurrying about the kitchen. No creepy-crawly insects. There was nothing. Nothing at all. The only thing that broke the long stretches of silence was her voice.

Tell me, was she kind to you? Was she friendly and courteous? Because she was... quite harsh when she spoke to me. These were the kinds of things she was always saying to me:



Are you still praying, my dear?
Do you think he’ll actually come, my dear?
I’m still wishing, just like I promised, my dear.
You know why he hasn’t come for you, my dear?
Because perhaps he doesn’t actually love you as much as you thought.
My dear,
my dear,
my dear,
have you lost your mind yet?
Shut up! I’ve had enough! I’m done with you!
Ahahahahahaha...
Enough... Please, enough already!
Oh, what’s got you so worked up? You love to talk, don’t you?
So why not have a nice little chat with me?
This is not a chat!
Maybe not in your mind, my dear.
You seem to think chatting only constitutes conversations you enjoy.
But I don’t think the word’s usage needs to be so restricted, personally.
You’re just getting off on watching me squirm!
Oh, not at all. You’ll have all my best wishes if he ever does show up for you.
Nnh!
Ooh, so scary. If you’re making that face when he shows up, hehe...
he might not even recognize you.
Wha —
You haven’t looked in a mirror recently, have you?
Go on then, my dear.
See just how frightful you’ve become...
...
...
No...



My face was pale and lifeless, my eyes hollow, my cheeks sunken, heavy bags beneath my eyes. My hair had lost its sheen, and it grew wildly. I was quickly losing everything that made me recognizable as me, and the thought sent a shiver down my spine.

N-No, this... this isn’t me...
This is some kind of trick! You’re trying to deceive me!
Baseless accusations. You really must stop blaming people every time something doesn’t turn out the way you want, my dear.
B-But, but — ! My face was more —
More... what? More expressive? More cheerful? Brighter? Rosier?
You’re right, you were never this gloomy, were you?
R-Right, I wasn’t... I was always more cheerful than this!
Naïve girl. Could you be any more narcissistic?
Huh...?
What you’re looking at is, undeniably, exactly what you look like now.
Time did not do that to you, nor did I. The negative energy oozing from within you is what’s causing you to take on this form.
...!
Did you think you didn’t have any dark, ugly emotions inside you?
Did you believe you would always be able to smile, no matter what?
Did you assume you were pure and beautiful?
No one like that exists, my dear.



...
If you... If you weren’t always being so nasty, this would have never happened!
Anyone’s heart would be twisted listening to you long enough!
So you’re saying Michel’s heart was twisted too? I spoke to him for years.
No — !
Hehe... I’m just teasing. I suppose I may have crossed the line there.
I mean you no ill will, Giselle, honest.
...
Allow me to give you one word of advice, though:
look at yourself in the mirror often. If you continue deteriorating at this rate and end up looking like a corpse...
when Michel comes and sees you, he won’t jump for joy,
but run away, screaming in terror!
Stop talking.
Please, just stop...
You know, Giselle,
this is only the very beginning.
He might not show up for hundreds of years.
Rgh... I can’t... I can’t live that long!
Absolutely brilliant.
You still think you’re alive?
Wha...
The moment you agreed to come with me, you ceased to be of this world.
...
So don’t worry about time, my dear.
You can wait as long as it takes. As loooooooong as it takes for him to arrive.
...
Hehehe...
...



I wanted to ensure I didn’t turn into some horrifying creature... My hair grew, so time seemed to be passing... but I didn’t appear to age at all. The flow of time had become perplexingly vague and uncertain. Was it stopped? Or was it moving? I couldn’t tell. On occasion, I would practice smiling in front of the mirror. My smile was, after all, my one really distinctive feature, and I was certain you had seen me smiling more than anything. Even if my appearance had changed drastically, I thought, you would still be able to recognize me by my smile. A woman standing alone in front of a mirror practicing how to smile. I’m sure that was quite the comical sight.

And that was about how my days went — for an incomprehensibly long time.



For the first hundred years, I kept track of how much time had passed. An hour, a day, a month, a year, ten years, fifty... But once it had surpassed a person’s average lifespan, the counting started driving me mad, and so I stopped. My sense of time began to numb. In place of sleep, I spent my days in a trance-like state. Doing so, I was less aware of the passage of time, which made it a little easier to bear. Suspended in this bubble of time, my mind went out to you.



The next thing I lost a sense of was myself. I lived as a human for twenty-one years. After spending nearly ten times that trapped in the mansion, I began to feel like that was all I had ever been. That maybe my “past” was all a construction of my imagination. That, as an otherworldly being, I merely fantasized about being human. Had I actually had a family? Had there actually been other people in the world? Did cities and villages really exist? Was there ever really a time when light shone through the windows — when we were happy?

But I knew if I started doubting everything, I wouldn’t be able to maintain myself, so I settled on believing one thing: that you, Michel, were real. That you had been with me, that I had loved you, and that it was you I was waiting for. I tried to always remember that one fact.



My characteristic energy and cheer were disappearing. By then, I hardly ever raised my voice anymore. And in response to that change, the witch seemed to treat me a little nicer. On occasion, I thought I could sense her presence nearby. Like she might reveal her form to me from beyond the darkness, instead of only speaking to me. I could feel her sitting beside me.



...
Hehe... I suppose it doesn’t matter either way...
Sometimes, I think love and fanaticism are two sides of the same coin.
...What are you implying?
Oh, nothing.
I have an idea, though. Why don’t we make you some new clothes, my dear? The loom should still work, thanks to your keeping everything in order.
That outfit’s an artifact of an age long past by now.
...You know how long it’s been?
Vaguely, but yes. As we speak, time still marches onward. Not too quickly, and not too slowly,
but at the same pace as your breathing.
...
Now, on your feet, Giselle. We have plenty of time, so let’s make you the perfect maid’s outfit.
And if we don’t have enough materials, we can make more thread from the sheets or curtains.
Hehehe... How exciting.
...



They were quite strange to behold. The old me might have been stricken with fascination by them, but at that point... I wasn’t even sure how to rejoice, how to be impressed, or how to be moved anymore.





(Hssssssss... hssssssss... hssssssss...)
(hssssssss, hssssssss, hssssssss...)
(hssssssss, hssssssss...)
(What year is it...?)
(Hssssssss, hssssssss...)
(Oh, it doesn’t matter what year it is...)
(it doesn’t matter where it is...)
(as long as you’re there... it can be anytime... anywhere...)
...
Where are you... Michel?
What are you doing?
I’m still praying...
I’m still wishing for you to appear before me...
forever, and ever, and ever...
and ever, and ever, and ever...
I’ve been praying for so long... I don’t even know how long it’s been.
Before you left... you said you were going to pray too...
You said you hoped we could meet again in another life...
I’m not misremembering... am I...?
Michel...
Come back to me soon...
I love you so, so very much...
but my memories of you are starting to fade...



I don’t want to forget...
I want to always remember...
My memories of you are the only thing holding me together...
but they’re slipping away from me...
How did you speak? What kinds of things did you talk about...?
I’m losing all these memories...
Please, Michel... Come back to me...
before I forget everything...
My beloved Master...

The thought crossed my mind that maybe Morgana’s guarantee that you would be “reconstructed” was just a lie to trick me into staying here, but I quickly discarded it. Because if she had been lying, it would strip all meaning from my very existence. It would take from me my purpose for being here. So I didn’t want to accept that possibility. I had no choice but to persevere in my belief that you would return.

...I had always thought I would be all right, that my faith would never waver. I still believed in myself. But you can be the happiest, most optimistic, resolute person in the world, and you will still break eventually.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?






BGM: Her Dying Voice

Sunlight, which I had not seen in all that time, shone in from outside.

...

At first, I did not believe it was real. I thought it was a hallucination born of my inner desires. And I thought I must have completely lost it for my fantasies to have escaped my mind. But it didn’t matter if it was all an illusion; the gentle breeze blowing in through the window felt wonderful. The smell of grass, the chirping of birds, the glistening blue sky... it was like a thousand memories rushing back all at once, and it brought tears to my eyes.



And as she always did, the witch’s voice crushed my elation, dragging me back to reality. Reveling in the sight of the outside was the last thing I should have been doing, for it was that moment that began my true decline.

Work? What kind of work?
Have you already forgotten? Oh, good heavens... Do you have your head on straight, my dear?
As I said, I need you to watch over the house, and show your utmost hospitality to those who show up.
Is someone...
This is merely an appetizer.
...It looks like someone’s here.
H-Hold on! I-I have no idea what I’m supposed to do...
Do the same thing you have been doing — be a maid. Convince the house’s guests that this is a wonderful place.
Make them enjoy their stay.
...
Now go on. I’m quite looking forward to this...
...
(The bar has been removed...)
(But will the door... open?)



For so long, the door had refused to budge. For so long, light had forsaken these halls. For so long, there had been no trace of life. And now, all of that had been turned on its head. I felt like I had stepped into Heaven on Earth. I know it sounds melodramatic, so please don’t laugh. It was almost certainly a perfectly ordinary slice of nature. Leaves and grass rustled in the wind, flowers specked the earth, and in the distance was a city I didn’t recognize.

...

I wondered where I was, of course, but I neither shouted nor jumped in surprise. Instead, I found myself accepting of my circumstances, as unnatural as they might have been. As I was standing there idly before the entrance, a carriage rolled up.



...
Mm? And who might you be, young lady? That outfit...
(He’s speaking a different language...)

The middle-aged man approached me. From his attire and the way he held himself, he appeared to be upper-class. However, the words coming out of his mouth were not in the language I had grown up speaking.

(Could the mansion... have moved somewhere far, far away...?)

Naturally, I had no idea how such a thing was possible. And the longer I stood there staring at him absentmindedly, the more incredulous he became. My immediate mission was to overcome the language barrier. Fortunately, I suppose, I was able to understand bits and pieces of what he had said. As merchants in the capital, my family did business with people from other countries, and as a result, I had learned a handful of words. The problem was... it had been so long ago, I had no confidence whatsoever in my ability to hold a conversation.

I — I am... I am a servant...
Servant? Can’t say I remember asking for a lady servant, but eh, I suppose these things do happen. Doesn’t much matter who they sent.
Wh-Who are you...?
...You weren’t informed? Bloody hell. Off to a great start, I see. Well, what can you do, I guess...



As I am sure you have already guessed, this man was the Rhodes siblings’ grandfather. He was also the first person I served under as the Maid.



BGM: Petalouda

He only hired a handful of servants, claiming he was “not fond of clamor.” There was a single chef, a physician, a servant to take care of all the cleaning, and then me, who served as his personal assistant. Whenever he got the chance, Hayden would chase me down and make me practice proper etiquette. According to him, I had much to learn.

You are, at least technically, a servant of the Rhodes family, young lady, so I can’t have you going around playing the country bumpkin act.



And we’ll have to do something about that accent too, while we’re at it.
I have... an accent?
Thicker than bloody molasses! Now, I have no interest in sticking my nose into your business, asking where you hail from,
but while you’re here, you must act the part, young lady.
Lucky for you, I’m retired and have all the time in the world. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about proper etiquette.
A-All right...
Speak up, will ya?!
Y-Yes, sir!

Hayden did not go easy on me, either. In addition to my day-to-day duties, I studied etiquette, the language, proper pronunciation, and formal diction. Any time I made the slightest mistake, he would shout his dissatisfaction.



You must always act with elegance and grace. You must always maintain your composure, even if the house is falling down around you. Whatever happens, you deal with it quickly and quietly.
Your language must be immaculate. No “um”s, “uh”s, or pauses. For any reason.
Y-Yes, sir...
No stammering either!
Sorry!
Bloody hell, you are not going to make this easy, are you? Whose idea was it that a country bumpkin would make a good servant? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.
I-I... I’m not from the country.
(Not even slightly... I was raised in the capital...)
Is that so, eh? A prim and proper city girl, are ya? In that case, you should be a quick study.
Absolutely! I can learn anything in a week, tops, piece of cake!
Is that so? All right then, starting tomorrow, I’m tripling your lessons!
(I-I didn’t think this through!)

In addition to being my master, Hayden was my teacher. When he yelled, he grew twice his size, and I shrunk to half mine — but it wasn’t at all an unpleasant experience, because I knew he wasn’t raising his voice to belittle me. His instruction may have been harsh, but it was human interaction. There were people around that I could talk to, and that was wonderful. I was starting to regain some of my humanity.



...
I don’t know what kind of life you’ve lived, but I can’t imagine it’s been all that easy. Not many servant girls your age without a home to go back to.
Which is why... Which is why you need to learn this.
Once you’ve got all the rules and customs down, you’ll be able to hold your own at any noble’s estate. You shouldn’t have any trouble keeping yourself employed.
I’m sure you think I’m just a loud, obnoxious old man, but I believe we met for a reason, so I hope you’ll stick with me.
I, um... don’t think about you like that at all, Master. You’re a remarkable man...
One more time.
...
...I deeply appreciate your generous consideration, Master, from the bottom of my heart.
...Aye.
...

I didn’t know much about Hayden’s situation — why he had “retired” to this mansion all alone, away from the rest of his family, but anytime I asked about them, he would say,

It happens sometimes,

with a melancholic frown.



By that point, my etiquette had improved enough to satisfy his high standards. In that time, the mansion underwent a number of decor changes, as Hayden brought in sculptors to work on different areas of the house. He also sealed off rooms that were not in use — such as the observation tower and the chapel. It was a sad thing, seeing areas with so many memories for me falling into disuse, but as a mere servant, I had no say in the matter.

In addition, Hayden seemed to greatly enjoy renovating the house, so I watched him warmly. The furniture was all gradually replaced, gorgeous paintings hung on the walls, colorfully patterned curtains installed, and a brilliant rose garden planted.



It’s beautiful.
Did you know that, in the city, people are starting to call the mansion “Rose Manor”?
Rose Manor...
Hehe... and to think there used to be nothing but weeds here. Amazing how much it has changed.
I never thought I would see this garden turned into something so beautiful...
...Are you fond of roses, young lady?
Yes... Red ones, especially.
Red roses mean a great deal to me. They remind me... of a time long past.
Given one as a gift, were you?
No, I believe... I was the one who gave the rose. So red roses... are a symbol of my feelings.
They’re very precious to me.
(I gave you a rose... as a gift...)
(You plucked it from its stem...)
(and placed it in my hair.)
(Am I remembering correctly...?)
(My memories are so vague now...)
(I can’t even remember... the look on your face that day...)
...
There... are some kids I’d like to give roses to myself.
...Who?



Oh my... You have grandchildren?
Aye, though we haven’t been in touch for some time. Last I saw them was four years ago,
when my th — when my second grandchild was born. The sweetest girl in the world, with lovely flaxen hair.
She’s going to be a real beauty when she grows up. Anyway, they’re wonderful kids.
And one day, I want to hand this garden over to them,
each and every rose containing my hope that they’ll lead comfortable, healthy lives free of strife.
I’m sure your wish will come to pass. Your grandchildren will have wonderful lives.
Aye...

The grief of not having you around still weighed heavily on my mind, but I was slowly approaching contentedness. Life with Hayden was slow and uneventful, peaceful and relaxing. I imagine my heart was seeking anything to alleviate its pain, and it found that in the beautifully remodeled mansion, the garden blooming wildly with roses, and my time with Hayden. I was even beginning to think... this life was enough for me. That I would be okay with this being the end, if it meant more of the tranquility I felt. I was, like a coward, considering giving up the fight.

Please do forgive me for ever considering such a thing...



A gift had apparently arrived from his son, who lived far away. In it was a tea set, some leaves, and a small jar of sugar.

Miss! Miss!
How can I be of service, Master?
Brew me up a pot of this, would you?
Be careful not to steep it for too long. You want to get it just right for the best flavor.
As you wish, Master. Hehe... you seem quite pleased.
Psh. Why would I be?
A boy who’s shunned his old man for years sends him a paltry gift on a whim. I’m just entertaining his fancy.
Hehehe...
Your tea is ready, Master.
Ahh, what a wonderful smell... Tea and roses are life’s best damned spices.
Now, let’s see what that boy chose for me. If it’s no good, I’ll be sure to write him an angry letter.
(He looks so happy.)
(He must really love his family...)
...
Mm... It’s a little bitter...
Shall I brew another pot?
No, it’s not your fault. Must be something in the leaves.
Would you like to add some sugar, then? There was a small jar of it with the tea set.
...Now that’s some bloody fine sugar he’s procured. White as snow, and sparkles in the light.
He chose it just for you, Master.
Bloody hell, what demon possessed him? ...All right, give me two spoons, then.
Yes, Master. Here you are.
Mm... Ahh, splendid.
This is some exquisite tea. The sugar balances the bitterness of the leaves perfectly. I guess that boy does... have s — some...
...Master?



BGM: None

M-Master! Master!
Grh! Ngh, ggh! Grrrgh!
Th-The doctor! I need to find the doctor!
...ngh...!
A-Aaaah, aaah... w-water, water, I’ll get you some water right away!
So please... please hang in there!

Thanks to the quick treatment provided by his personal physician, Hayden survived, but he didn’t make it out with much more than his life. He was permanently bedridden by the affair. Evidently, the sugar I had put in his tea... had contained poison, which had done irreparable damage to his nerves and muscles. Most of his body was completely immobile, except for his left arm.



BGM: Archerontia Styx

...
Can I bring you something? Some water?
I’ve had more than my fill of water. You don’t need to wait on me hand and foot.
...
Haha... that face says you need to distract yourself by working.
I —
Remember what I told you? A noble family’s servants must always act with elegance and grace. You must always maintain your composure.
But... how can you expect me to remain composed?!
I-If I... If I had only examined the sugar more thoroughly!
You never would have noticed, young lady. I examined the sugar and didn’t see a bloody thing wrong with it.
He was drat crafty, that’s for sure...
Why would he do this?!
...
His inheritance, I presume...
...
Something must have come up, and he needed money quickly...
That’s no reason... to poison your own father...
Blood is nothing but an obstacle to ambition...
Or maybe... he just hated me.
How could anyone possibly hate you?!



Mine just happened to be my son...
...
I was planning to give him everything anyway...
...
He didn’t have to do this... It all would have been his.
Master...!
Killing me... doesn’t accomplish anything... but I guess it doesn’t much matter...
...Nrg.
Say, could I ask you something, young lady?
Wh-What can I do for you...?
I don’t want it to get out that Hayden Rhodes was poisoned, so could you tell people...
that I passed away peacefully with a beautiful nurse tending to my every need?
Y-You’re not dead yet! P-Please don’t talk like that! You’re scaring me!
No stammering.
B-But — !
I’m not saying it’ll happen immediately. But I am an old man, and one day, you’ll wake up and I’ll be gone.
...
This is about my own pride, not my son. The last thing I want is to go out with a black spot on my name.
...
Tell me you’ll do this, Giselle...
...
(He’s never said my name before...)
As... you wish...
Thank you...
You’re a peculiar girl... you know...
Sometimes, you seem greener than the leaves in summer, and sometimes you seem like you’ve seen twelve kinds of hell.
...



I...
Your skin is pale, your hands as cold as ice... At one point, I thought you might be Death himself.
...
But I was wrong about that. You have too big a heart to be Death. You care too much.
You must be carrying... a very heavy cross on your back...
I... What am I supposed to do?
I don’t want to lose you, Lord Hayden. I don’t want to lose this life!
...You have someone, don’t you, young lady? Someone you’re dying to meet again.
Y-Yes, but...! I... I don’t know anymore! I don’t know how long I’m supposed to keep waiting!
If something doesn’t happen soon, I-I don’t think I can hold myself together much longer...
I was so close to breaking down! And it was you who kept me on my feet!
...
I’m sure you’ve tried to remain strong plenty of times, so I’ll give you some different advice —
a trick for when you think you’re losing hold of yourself.
...
Build a cocoon.
A... cocoon?
A sturdy shell to keep your weak inner-self safe. This world has no interest in protecting you — only swallowing you whole.
So you mustn’t readily expose your true self.
You build a cocoon... and you play the role you need to play. That way, the real you will remain unharmed.
...
It’s not pleasant to hide yourself like that, but it’s better than letting the world crush you.
But a word of warning... If you spend too long in the cocoon,
the real you is liable to disappear forever. You’ll be swallowed up by your own protective shell.
...
I hope you find whoever it is... before it’s too late...
...
Now... I think I’ll get some sleep. All this talking’s worn me out.
A-As you wish.
Good night, Master... See you in the morning.

Double Plus Undead
Dec 24, 2010
Ah, so Prisoner of Illusion doesn't just refer to Michel.

BioEnchanted
Aug 9, 2011

He plays for the dreamers that forgot how to dream, and the lovers that forgot how to love.
Finally someone who wasn't an rear end in a top hat!

PetraCore
Jul 20, 2017

👁️🔥👁️👁️👁️BE NOT👄AFRAID👁️👁️👁️🔥👁️

I'm glad Giselle got a respite.

TheGreatEvilKing
Mar 28, 2016





So the incest kids are real, that make any of the first door true?

Double May Care
Mar 28, 2012

We need Dragon-type Pokemon to help us prepare our food before we cook it. We're not sure why!

TheGreatEvilKing posted:

So the incest kids are real, that make any of the first door true?

Hayden posted:

when my th — when my second grandchild was born. The sweetest girl in the world, with lovely flaxen hair.

It would appear so.

HerpicleOmnicron5
May 31, 2013

How did this smug dummkopf ever make general?


Well, that just makes the tragedy of the First Door worse. Lovely.

ultrafilter
Aug 23, 2007

It's okay if you have any questions.


HerpicleOmnicron5 posted:

Well, that just makes the tragedy of the First Door worse. Lovely.

I bet all the doors end up looking worse after this. Call it a hunch.

HerpicleOmnicron5
May 31, 2013

How did this smug dummkopf ever make general?


ultrafilter posted:

I bet all the doors end up looking worse after this. Call it a hunch.

Now, I don't think they can make the second door worse.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?


He had strangled himself with his left hand. I should have been more attentive. I should have recognized how much pain he was in, how much it crushed him to have been betrayed by his own family. I should have realized how he truly felt — how fragile he really was...

I fell into a hopeless gloom. I could hardly believe that the quiet life I had finally attained had been shattered in the blink of an eye. Hayden’s other servants quickly went their own ways, and I vividly remember the dirty looks they all gave me. Everyone who knew how he had died... assumed I had done it. I had no reason to kill him, though... But they had more than enough to believe so — for I had, indeed, been the last person to see him alive, and I held firmly to the story he had asked me to tell.

While I was unable to convince the other servants, his family was far more accepting of the story that he had departed for the next world happily. Though that did not make the truth any less heartbreaking, especially since I was the only one who knew it.



(I was happy...)
(but I can never seem to keep hold of it for more than a flash...)
(Despair always comes marching in to rip it away...)
What...
What am I doing here?
...
What kind of person...
were you, Michel...?
What kind of person was I?
...



BGM: Murk

Morgana...
Was Hayden... one of those whom you wished to be reconstructed...?
Hah. I have no interest in that wrinkled bag of bones. And if he was one of them, do you really think I would have let him go so peacefully?
Peaceful? You call that peaceful?! You call his misery peaceful?!
I most certainly do. And since you do not seem to understand this: the pain of death lasts but an instant.
The worst torture can only be inflicted upon the living.
Setting two loved ones against one another, manipulating one into taking the other’s life, and then forcing him to live with that.
The stage hasn’t even been set yet, my dear.
And you would have me... play a part in that...?
Indeed. You agreed to accompany me.
You are here to be my guide... and you’re doing a wonderful job of it so far.
I — I haven’t done anything...
Oh, but you killed that old man, did you not?
— ?!
Thanks to you, my wish is one step closer to fruition.
Wh-What — What do you — ?! What do you mean I killed Hayden?!
You mean to claim you didn’t?





N-No, no! I didn’t mean to!
Your intentions are irrelevant. Everything moves along the path forged by my wish.
And you shall continue to follow its will.
...Rgh!
You know what...? I’m done feeling like this!
I don’t want anyone else to go through what Hayden did!
And what are you going to do about it?
I — I’m done listening to you. Without me, you have no influence over this world...
Oho?
So I’ll... I’ll die. I’ll take my own life right here and now!



My hands were shaking, my heart pounding. My whole body was wracked with terror, but... I could have sworn I heard Morgana gasp. This was her one weakness, I thought.

...!
What are you thinking? Don’t do this, Giselle. Don’t be foolish. Put the knife down, right now.
I-I’m... I’m done... trusting anything you say!
Giselle... put the knife down!
(I’ve missed you so very much, Michel. I’ve wanted nothing more than to see you again...)
(but if my being Morgana’s guide...)
(is going to cause other people suffering...)
(then I can’t!)
It’s all over, Morgana!
Aah... huh?
...



Not even pain... Why...?
Pft...
Pffft... ahahahaha... ahahahahahahaha...
Absolutely brilliant. I told you not to be foolish. But you just wouldn’t listen to me...
...
Ahahaha... Such a silly girl.
...
Aha...
I really am...
Ahaha...



Learning that absolutely crushed me. My backup plan, the one escape route I had thought available to me had been ripped away. My spirit crumbled... and I felt myself sinking into a vast darkness. I began losing my grip on myself... which is when I recalled Hayden’s advice:

“Build a cocoon.”

It was the only option I had left — my final chance at protecting myself. Although ultimately... I was unsuccessful in that endeavor, as you know... but by that point, my mind and spirit had all but been lost, eroded away by the years of solitude, the witch’s whispers, the brief glimmer of happiness, and the eternal, boundless darkness it had left me in. It was in that moment that all light drained from my eyes, and it was in that moment that the Maid was born.



BGM: Ephemera

Now, Nellie, there’s no need to run. You’re going to fall, and you can’t say I didn’t warn you.
...



Good afternoon, Lady Nellie. That is correct. It is an honor to serve you.
Oh, oh! Did you do all this?
I did not. The garden was your grandfather, Lord Hayden’s work.
Wow! Is Grandfather a wizard?!
Hehe... perhaps he was. I am sure he would be delighted to know you like it.
Did Grandfather like flowers?
Yes, he loved them quite dearly.
Wow! I love flowers too. I’ve never seen a garden with so many pretty flowers!
Did you know this kind of flower is called a “rose”?
Just like our name!
Why yes, they do sound alike. And like the flowers, you are also a very sweet little girl.
Hehehe... Say, what’s your favorite color of rose?
I... like all colors.
But you don’t like any the most? That’s too bad.
My favorite is pink. Pink roses are so pretty!
Indeed they are.
Aaah, jeez, there you are, Nellie...



Oh, not at all. We were having the most wonderful time.
That’s good... I imagine we’ll be seeing each other around, so it’s a pleasure to —
Dearest Mell, dearest Mell! Let’s see what the inside’s like! Mother says I have my very own room!
Ah, s-slow down, Nellie!] I beg your pardon.
...

The inseparable siblings ran off toward the mansion, hand in hand. It was a heartwarming sight. But the next moment, when they stepped inside, I saw something else:



The whole house looked as though it was cackling. It was, I presume, the witch Morgana’s madness taking form — a manifestation of how she felt now that her centuries-in-the-making wish was bearing fruit. Those two children were the ones Morgana had been waiting for. Had I still had any willpower to fight left in me, I would have taken them by the hands and sent them somewhere far away.

I would have done something before the house swallowed them up. But instead, I just gently lowered my eyes. Misfortune would surely sink its teeth into those two children before long. Pain and misery would befall them. I knew no good lay ahead for them, but my heart had all but frozen solid. I had my hands full taking care of myself. So I let Hayden’s beloved grandchildren fall into the witch’s hands.

I was, for all intents and purposes, Morgana’s marionette.



BGM: Everybody's Crying

...
Darling, devoted Giselle... I know not how to describe for you the fiery excitement burning within me!
...
Ooh, I know. I can tell you my story. Tell you exactly what that mild-mannered little boy once did.
You’ll be open to listening now, won’t you, my dear? And you’ll surely understand that I am doing nothing wrong.
Because you’re my ally. My trusty servant. You and I, we live in the same world. We’re as close as family —
are we not?
Yes... As you say...
Hehehe...
So let us curse them, all of them.
Let us inflict a pain worse than physical torture on them. Let us put their souls on the rack for all eternity!
Curse them... Make them suffer... Curse them...
Now, listen carefully, Giselle. This is a tale of wicked men, and my curse upon them...



The bile overflowing from her words — the pure, unadulterated hatred brimming within — consumed me more than the horrifying things they described. She was brutally honest, each word a carefully sharpened blade of animosity. How much bitterness did you have to carry inside you to become like her? How long did you have to feel nothing but hatred to become like her?

I felt like, if I let my guard down, I would be consumed by her enmity — it would become mine, and I would grow to despise them myself. All the while, I kept my mind on one, single thing — that is, what was left of my mind, locked away inside a shell of my own creation. It was that solitary truth that allowed me to hold onto my human emotions, to continue believing.

(I’m always waiting...)
(My love will never fade...)
(When I was still my old self... I called them “Master” and would do anything for them.)
(Michel...)
(That was their name...)
(They were beautiful... They had pearly white hair and ruby eyes...)
(They...)
(are going to come for me...)







Michel...
All I can remember about you...
is your name... your glassy white skin...
your fiery red eyes... and your snow-colored hair...
Nothing else...





Because I didn’t remember enough... to know any better. You already know who I speak of, don’t you? The person who called upon Rose Manor that fated stormy night. The girl with almost translucently pale skin, chillingly white hair, and eyes like jewels.

(Aah... what a beautiful girl...)
(Her hair... her eyes... her porcelain skin...)
(It all matches the person in my memories...)
(She must be...)
(the one I’ve been waiting for.)
(If she is...)



Is something the matter?
No... I just thought I felt someone watching us...
Hehehe. It’s only your imagination, I’m sure.
...
If not your imagination, then perhaps some unseen force was watching you.
...Unseen force?
Are you familiar with how people refer to this mansion?
Rose Manor...
Yes, indeed. It is called Rose Manor because you can smell the sweet fragrance of the rose garden even at a great distance.
But that is not what I meant.
...
It is said...
that a witch resides within the house.
...A witch? I have not heard any such stories...
You probably wouldn’t have. It was a very, very long time ago. Nothing you need concern yourself with.
You have... a peculiar presence about you.
Should I consider that a compliment? Hehehe...
(A peculiar presence, she says... Does she sense something in me, as I do her?)
(This has to be her, then... Her name... I need to ask her name...)
It’s getting late; you should get some rest. A room has already been set aside for you.
But first, may I ask you one thing?
Yes?
I do not believe you have given me your name yet.
My name...



...
Ahh, I knew it...
You... You are the one.
What?
You are the one I have been waiting for.
Um...
I have endured so much... in anticipation of this moment.
...
So that I could reunite with you...
U-Um...
You came to this place to see me again, did you not? Held tight to those wonderful memories... until you could make it back to me.
I never gave up hope. I always believed... and I hope you’ll praise me for that.
And I ask you...
to please say my name...
To please make me —
U-Um... I...
I don’t know...
anything about you.
...
I’m sorry... You seem to be confusing me for someone. We have never met before now...
...
Hehe... you jest. You are Michel, are you not?
Th-That is my name, yes... but it’s a fairly common name. Surely you’re confusing me with —
That cannot be. That white hair, white skin, those red eyes, and that name — the name of the archangel.
Everything about you is the same! How can you say you are not my Michel?!
Please, Michel, remember for me!



...
Ah... I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, um...
You would... reject me?
I’m so sorry... I honestly don’t know you.
Do you care nothing anymore for the time we spent together?
We have not spent any time together.
You would deny everything...?
I’m sorry!
I see...
...I see...
So you feel nothing for me anymore?
...
...You do not need to say anything. I understand. You are feeling... a great deal of disgust toward me.
N-No, I...
Or perhaps it is fear. Yes... you were always so kind. You would not easily allow yourself to succumb to hatred.
...
I understand. Please, forget everything I have said.
... Who are you?
I... I am...
I am but a simple Maid, nothing more.



I no longer recognized “Michel” as anything more than a concept. Man or woman, elderly or infant, as long as they had white hair, red eyes, and the right name, they were you. I needed anything I could get. I was so desperate the thought never even crossed my mind that she was not you. What do you think, seeing me like this — that I’m helpless and hopeless?



Michel is back. She’s finally come for me.
But she does not remember anything, it seems...
Not me, not our past, nothing...
She saw me and was afraid, in fact...
Are you listening, Morgana?
Aah, darling, devoted Giselle. You poor, pitiful soul.
That must have been quite harrowing. But don’t worry, you still have me.
Besides... this might not be your only chance. As long as you continue on, Michel could appear before you again.
Do you think she will remember me next time?
I can’t say. That’s up to Michel.
You do have another option, though: forget Michel yourself and seek out a new “Master.”
Someone who can be yours... Someone dedicated and faithful — who needs you.
Someone worthy of this mansion.
...
Someone who needs me?
That’s right. Michel didn’t need you, after all.
...
It’s all right. Don’t worry. You have plenty of time.

















(It’s raining again today...)
(I... I kind of wonder what happened to him...)
(after he fled from the mansion...)
(Although... I suppose it doesn’t much matter to me...)
(The witch is surely watching him...)
(Hssssssss, hssssssss...)
(Such a dreadful storm...)
(It sounds like someone crying...)

I was, at that point, completely out of my mind. Broken. My smiles, frowns, and gasps had all been replaced with imitations. Shortly afterward, the flaxen-haired boy moved out of the house and went on to become a priest. The girl fell ill a few years later, her disease eventually taking her life, but the boy never once returned home. The Rhodes family crumbled.

I couldn’t bring myself to grieve for them, or to reflect on Hayden’s sorrowful end. I simply waited for time to begin moving once more.

Brutal Garcon
Nov 2, 2014



Oh, right. The French pronunciation of "Michael".

witchcore ricepunk
Jul 6, 2003

The Golden Witch
Who Solved the Epitaph


A Probability of 1/2,578,917
So her name’s been Michelle the whole time! But she’s not a genderbent Michel... or... ??? I also like how chill Giselle is about her soulmate suddenly being a woman. She’s great.

ultrafilter
Aug 23, 2007

It's okay if you have any questions.


Giselle's forgotten everything about her soulmate other than the name and the hair.

POOL IS CLOSED
Jul 14, 2011

I'm just exploding with mackerel. This is the aji wo kutta of my discontent.
Pillbug
It's been like... centuries. She's less chill than desperate and resigned. Not really the lesbiotic romance of my dreams, I'll tell you what.

TheGreatEvilKing
Mar 28, 2016





So all the doors are true huh.

Double Plus Undead
Dec 24, 2010
It's a good thing this is a text based medium because I have no idea how you're supposed to pronounce those two names differently.

Cyouni
Sep 30, 2014

without love it cannot be seen

Double Plus Undead posted:

It's a good thing this is a text based medium because I have no idea how you're supposed to pronounce those two names differently.

They're kind of pronounced the same. The exact same, actually, which is where Giselle's confusion in this post comes from.

Theoretically I guess you could pronounce Michel with a hard k, I suppose? But it's not.

HerpicleOmnicron5
May 31, 2013

How did this smug dummkopf ever make general?


Double Plus Undead posted:

It's a good thing this is a text based medium because I have no idea how you're supposed to pronounce those two names differently.

The twist is Michel, some may pronounce as Michael. The Maid does not realise the difference when she states her name, it's only for the audience (and the obvious note that she's a woman, so it's Michelle instead of Michel) to tell that there is in fact a difference.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
Updates may be slow this week, and if they are it's because my office is a five minute drive from the hotel where SGDQ is happening

Toalpaz
Mar 20, 2012

Peace through overwhelming determination

witchcore ricepunk posted:

So her name’s been Michelle the whole time! But she’s not a genderbent Michel... or... ??? I also like how chill Giselle is about her soulmate suddenly being a woman. She’s great.

The trans Michel theory is powerful imo.

Just that some reincarnations Michel doesn't feel the same way about gender imo. Unless we see Michel and Michelle in the same room, then I may need to revise my opinion.

It really is as the witch Morgana says though, any reality in which Michel isn't socialized similarly or have a history similar to the one he knew Giselle in means that he's a basically different person. Giselle could be waiting a long time, possibly forever, for this reincarnation stuff to shake out the way she wants it to.

witchcore ricepunk
Jul 6, 2003

The Golden Witch
Who Solved the Epitaph


A Probability of 1/2,578,917

POOL IS CLOSED posted:

It's been like... centuries. She's less chill than desperate and resigned. Not really the lesbiotic romance of my dreams, I'll tell you what.

Right... I'm just glad there isn't like a, "but I'm straight!" moment.

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Barent
Jun 15, 2007

Never die in vain.
All I will say is there is not an ounce of wasted writing or development in the whole VN.

Side note: Prof are you planning to do Requim for Innocence after this? It’s quite good

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