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madllamamomma · 2 years

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The Visitor~ Part 8!!!!

Chapter 8~

The King of Pentacles~

[WARNING: Major trigger warning! Scenes contain physical and mental abuse. My content is also for more mature audience, 18+ please!]

As the arrogant Sir R. Martin Alarie III strolls towards his daughter’s magic shop, Beatrix his familiar, lazily drapes around his neck. With his eyes unable to resist the glimpse around him, he can’t help but continuously be disguised and repulsed by the streets of Vesuvia, despite them being the best they have ever been and the people being as kind as they ever were.

Continuing his walk, the cogwheels instantly turn and tick in his head. With just a day before he was expecting to return to his ship, time was running out. Now, more than ever he felt now that his plans must be in full swing by this evening.

“... Taking Pigeon home tomorrow, Master?” Beatrix murmurs in her master’s ears as she wakes up from her short nap.

Still continuing his proud wide stride, and his nose straight up, the Archamagister quietly replies under his breath. “... Perhaps. The child has been rather stubborn about staying here with these filthy lowlives… But we will persuade her one way or another.”

The creature shifts her weight uncomfortably in his shoulders, knowing full well about this man's temper when things didn’t go his way. “... Master won’t hurt her… will he?”

“.... I do not plan to, Bea… perish the thought.” He answers, slightly shaking his head.

Beatrix relaxes her little head feeling slightly relieved.

“...But then again, we shall see what she makes me do after tonight…” He continues with a small shrug.

The badger glances her blue eyes up towards her master’s face. Feeling uneasy, her fur raised on end. “But Pigeon is nice now… didn’t try to burn Bea’s tail like before…”

“..Yes… well, ‘Pigeon’ doesn’t realize what she’s throwing away… You know that.”

“...B-... But Pigeon’s grown up now…”

“She is going to have something I never had at her age…. A father to guide her to the right path…she’s still a valuable asset in Charlès. She’ll see that when she is back home.”

Without a second thought, the beast blurts out, “.... Pigeon seems happy here, and Master shouldn’t–”

The archmagister stops dead in his tracks with a cross look on his face as he beams into his familiar’s blue eyes. Beatrix slowly shrinks into herself, getting as small as she can. She couldn’t believe what she had just said, she never questioned him like that, what had gotten into her??

With a sharp annoyed sigh, he softens his gaze and takes a look at his pocket watch before stuffing it back into his silk pocket. “It’s getting rather late... How about you go off to find dinner for yourself, eh, Beatrix?”

Poor Beatrix's hungry stomach grumbles as she innocently stares at her master. “.... Don’t make me repeat myself.” He quietly grumbles.

Slowly and reluctantly, she climbs down his arm and hops to the ground whimpering sadly, hoping he’s changed his mind.

But instead he picks up his cane and starts to walk along down the street again without an ounce of remorse. “...Why don’t you go find some rats to eat instead…” He shouts over his shoulder.

The poor badger whimpers a little more, having a bad feeling in the pit of her little stomach.

“...You should know better than anyone I don’t need anyone holding me back…” Martin mutters under his breath as he slicks back his hair.

______________________

The shop never felt more apprehensive before. As closing time came, Rhemi swiftly blew out the lantern and preparations immediately got to work on a grand homemade dinner.

Asra being the ever supported friend, even though hating every second if it, makes his special seafood curry. He cooked it to a mild spice level just in case the old man wasn’t up for the heat, yet it never lost any of its tangy flavor.

Muriel made fried bread, a special recipe he learned from his cousins back in the south, simple enough to make, but the results were always extraordinary. He was half terrified it wouldn't come out right, but part of him felt like he had been doing it all his life.

Of course Rhemi was in charge of the dessert. Her loving Muriel, despite completely hating the idea of having to be in the same room as her father, brought fresh apples from the forest to make an apple pie. Usually she liked to buy her pastries from the bakery, but something about homemade pie sounded good. Luckily Portia and Argippa taught her an amazing recipe which was perfect for the occasion.

After a few hours, dinner was done and set on a simmer and everything smelt amazing. The pie looked absolutely delicious and was ready to be put into the oven, and the fried bread was crispy yet light and fluffy at the same time, the curry was slightly sweet and very savory, probably one of Asra’s best batches yet. Everything was perfect.

Almost exactly on the dot, a knock was at the door, and dread hit Asra and Muriel instantly.

As she hears the much anticipated knock on the door, Rhemi quickly uses her magic to evaporate from the kitchen to the door in seconds before anyone else could answer. “I got it!” She shouts as the sparkles still loom over her while unlocked the door and she tries to fan them away.

“Père!” She overenthusiastically greets as she sees his almost grim face. “Welcome…. A- again…”

Martin steps into the shop with a polite grin, happy to see his daughter, but also attempting to hide his disinterest about tonight’s dinner.

Muriel and Asra drag themselves towards the door and try their best to be somewhat polite (or at least Asra is successful–The hermit, not so much).

“Sir Martin, what a pleasure to see you again.” Asra says lying through his teeth with a fake smile.

The old magician bats his eyelashes in a bit of surprise. “Oh, yes…. More of Rhemiela’s… friends…”

“....Fiance….” Muriel grumples under his breath.

“Hmmm… So you two will be joining us as well then?” Martin asks, almost annoyed before looking back at his daughter.

Despite the obvious tension already before the evening got started, Rhemi continued to smile and giggled sweetly, “Of course they are! Why, they both help make dinner!”

As they all feared. Dinner was awkward and slightly dull conversation wise. Luckily, Asra’s curry was the best batch he ever made, and Muriel’s fried bread went with it so well. Unfortunately, Martin barely touched his food, always looking at it suspiciously. He did however seem to like the wine, nearly finishing off the entire bottle himself.

Stopping before any of them were too full, they all made their way to the velvet couch area as Muriel placed the pie in the oven and Rhemi made a pot of tea, leaving Asra and Martin alone for a moment.

“So…” Asra says to break the awkward silence. “How was your stay so far in Vesuvia, Sir Martin?” He politely asks.

The archmagister slowly blinks, “As well as one could have expected… Other than finding Rhemielia here, this trip was dull and tedious as ever… The streets stink of low tide and oysters and the palace reeks of incense.”

As Asra and Martin lock eyes and stare at each other loathingly. Every time this man speaks, Asra continues to just despise him even more. Just before Asra finally gives him a piece of his mind, Rhemi returns with a pot of tea and cups.

Happy to see the tea, the old man smirks as he reaches down and takes a cup of tea his daughter poured for him“... Good thing we’re leaving tomorrow…” Martin scoffs as he takes a sip.

Seeing a segue, Rhemi decided now was as good a time as ever to ask her father about walking her down the aisle. “... Actually, Père, there is something I wanted to ask of you–”

BANG! – “Owww!” Shout the poor mountain man from the back.

The three of them nearly leap out of their seats as they hear the poor hermit cry out from pain. Finally ending the staring contest with the old magician, Asra places his cup down to the coffee table and smiles fakely, “Ummm, sorry… Hold that thought, Rem…”

He stands to his feet and peers over the corner to see his tall friend clutching his foot. “Muriel? You okay?”

“The hell is this chest doing in the middle of the hallway??” Muriel grumbles, shaking out his stubbed big toe.

“OH! I almost forgot!” Asra suddenly shouts out as he sprints towards the back hallway. He opens the once very enchanted and locked chest. “Hey, Rhemi, remember that chest?”

“The one that was enchanted shut?... And the one that my poor Muri apparently stubbed his toe on?” She shouts back to him.

“Yep!” He replies with a laugh. “—That's the one! I was trying it again today and realized that it finally unlocked!”

“You mean you somehow got it opened?”

“No! I mean, for some reason the lock was just unlatched yesterday afternoon!”

“Huh….” Rhemi’s eyes flutter and she shakes her head curiously. “That's… odd….”

“Anyways…. I was going through it and looking at what happened to stumble upon!” When he returns with Muriel tailing behind him, with a picture frame in his hands. With a large smile, he hands Rhemi a small glass frame about the size of a large book, with a delicate watercolor painted portrait inside. There were two women, both holding each other close and wearing beautifully embroidered clothing. One on the right who looked a lot like Rhemi, the one on the left was taller and had darker skin. Even though their faces were new to her, the apprentice knew exactly who they were.

“Is… is this..?” Rhemi stubbles over her words.

Asra smiles cheerily and points, the tall woman first, “That’s Athena,” he then moves to the other woman, “..and I am pretty sure that's your mother, Rhemi.”

Her mother was so beautiful, her hair was a dirty blonde, her eyes a deep hazel brown. Her frame was a bit skinnier and frailer than Rhemi’s but she did have a nice shape. She looked so kind, so loving, someone you would want to just hold you and sing you to sleep.

Muriel comes from behind and wraps his arm around Rhemi’s waist with a warm grin. She looks up with her eyes slightly watery and feeling so happy. “My mother….”

“...You were right, you are a lot like her, Rhemi.” He kisses the top of her head and she buries her face into his forearm. “...Even down to her smile.”

Martin just stares blankly at the three of them, feeling somewhat a whirlwind of emotions himself, the only portrait he had of his wife was back in his home in Charlès, and those were nearly two decades old.

Rhemi untangles herself from Muriel and cheerfully walks over to her father with the portrait, carefully handing it to him. Slowly he takes the portrait in his hands and he carefully studies the painting, nearly holding his breath as he takes in the painted images in front of him.

He seemed to take a long time to say anything, either it was the wine or he was in shock, but either way his disposition seemed to have rather shifted. A sense of vulnerability surrounding the man. Happy to finally have an opportunity to talk about her mother with him, she smiles and points to the woman in the painting and he takes a large hard swallow. “Look, Père! It’s Mum and—“

“—Phara…” Martin mutters under his breath behind his gritting teeth before his daughter could finish what she was saying.

Rhemi then notices that he’s starting to tremble the longer he looks at the picture, slowly baring more and more of his teeth. His icy teal eyes are now somehow colder and filled with malice and it sends a shiver down Rhemi’s spine.

“P—Phara?...” She scoffs tilting her head in confusion and shakes her head. “What? No! Father, that’s not not her, Phara was an evil witch!” Rhemi couldn't help but defend her poor deceased teacher, and she points to the tall woman with such confidence, tapping on the glass that protected the portrait. “That woman standing right there is—”

Quickly, her words start to die in her throat as she is suddenly overwhelmed with memories—Seeing Athena’s face for the first time in the hallways of the mansion in her nightmares. But she doesn't look like how she remembered her. Without her iconic long locks and traditional colorful clothes—no, instead she wore a bright scarf over her then short curly hair, and a rather plain looking Charlèsian outfit and large ornate earrings.

“....Rhemielia, my sweet dear.” Her mother’s soft voice rings in her ears, and sprouts pain to her temples. “...I want you to meet an old friend of mine… she will be your tutor from now on.”

Rhemi’s then acquaintance kneels down to her level with her sweet patient smile and tilts her head slightly. The woman’s golden yellow eyes stare into her own and extend her hand out to shake it. “Hello, my dear. My name is Phara. It’s lovely to meet you.” Her voice was deeper than most women, and she had a slight accent that she didn’t recognize. But her voice was the kind you wouldn’t mind listening to it all day.

Rhemi could feel her lips curling up into a shy smile as she reached her small hand to shake this beautiful woman’s hand. “Hello..”

“Rhemi??” Asra's voice mutter’s through the static.

By the time Rhemi realizes that she was staring off into nothing, it’s been nearly half a minute.

“....Athena…..” She quietly mutters her hand slowly drawing back to her body, feeling her breath become shallower by the moment.

Martin takes a few steps forwards clutching the picture in his hands, making the leather gloves squeak from his grip and his eyes glued to the frame. “You said…. You said that you didn’t know anyone else other than your mother….”

“I…. I…” A pit hits Rhemi’s stomach as if she was thrown off a steep cliff. Seeing the anger in her father’s face sends her absolute dread.

Muriel and Asra glance at each other, bewildered by these two's sudden change in emotions.

The trembling in Martin’s hands increased, the angrier he seemed to get. “... After all these years….. I scoured over half the world… Offered most of my fortune for her safe return….. I even prayed to the gods that I don’t even believe in to hope she’d return to me…. And what did I get in return?” Martin’s eyes gazed back to his daughter’s striking fear into her heart. “.... She fucking married the stupid frigid cunt of a captor!—”

——CRASSSSH!!

Without warning Martin hastily slams the picture frame to the ground, shattering the glass on the wooden floorboard. With a quick snap of his fingers the edges of the small watercolor portrait burst into flames. Asra gasps and Rhemi clasps her hands over her mouth in horror.

“—HEY!!” Muriel quickly lunges at him, but Rhemi throws up her hand and stops him.

“NO!” She waves her arm and closes her hand, extinguishing the flames before it destroys the portrait. “Wha—What the hell are you doing?!” She yells still keeping herself in between her father and her fiancè and Asra swiftfully snaches the painting from the ground. Clutching it to his breast for safety and he keeps his eyes peeled to the man as he slips the unprotected watercolor back into the safety of the large chest, and hasility placing a binding spell back onto the box so her father couldn’t destroy it or anything else in there for that matter.

Martin's eyes are still cold as he just stands there fuming with wrath and hate, starting into nothingness at the wall with his nostrils flared and breathing shallowly. “....I hope those stupid bitches rots in the hottest depts of hell…” he utter to himself, complete resentment painted across his his face.

Rhemi feels so confused and her heart starts to feel heavy filled with so many emotions and she grabs the sleeve of his long silk shirt. “—What?! That's the only portrait I have of my mother and Athena!! You told me this Phara person was evil…. But… if she was Athena– she… she never–... I.. she always was…. But you– …. And why the hell would you—”

Finally her father whips his head violently towards his daughter. “—You fucking knew about this, didn’t you?? You lied about forgetting things didn’t you?!” Her father raspily accusations just above a whisper, aggressively pointing his finger at her.

His rage is eerily similar to the man in Rhemi’s dream from before back in the south with Ezavior. For a moment Rhemi also seems to recall hearing that tone in his voice before. It’s so abrupt, and violent, and it feels toxic, dark, and resentful…

“You knew what that witch was doing behind my back, didn’t you?! What did that bitch tell you about me, HUH?? WHAT LIES DID SHE SAY ABOUT ME?!?” He continues to accuse her.

“Père, I never lied–”

—Smmmmack!!!

Dead silence engulfs all the shop for a few seconds, making the noise ring in everyone’s ears.

Rhemi’s cheek starts to dreadfully sting.

The archmagister slapped his daughter’s right side of her face so hard with the back of his hand, it nearly knocked her over. The uter smoothness of his actions rather sickening, as if it was almost a reflex. What was worse, he was so quick and unfazed by his terrible action.

Shocked and appalled, she stumbles backwards and lightly brushes her fingers on her stinging cheek, completely shocked and breathless. Why do I know this feeling of my cheek burning like this….. she thought to herself.

“RHEMI!” Asra and Muriel shout simultaneously.

Muriel’s eyes widen then he lunges forward to him again, intent on following through this time, but Rhemi quickly grabs his wrist with both hands, “—MUR, NO!!”

“WHY?!” He barks looking like he wants to rip the man in two.

“I-I have to know what’s going on!!!!” She desperately shouts back, tugging his arm harder. He stops reluctantly, fist clenched, putting himself in front of her, his arm blocking her body, but allows her to speak with him safely.

“What did Aunt Athena have to do with any of this?” Asra interjects standing tall next to Muriel and in front of Rhemi and just as furious as he. Athena was once his teacher too. She took him in from the streets, clothed him, educated him. He cared about her just as much as Rhemi did and wouldn’t stand for anyone trying to soil her memory. She was such a kind woman. A good woman.

Martin sneers at Asra, and just glares in disbelief. “…Athena?.....Aunt Athena?!?” A bone chilling laugh erupts from his lungs as with a matching crazed expression as he shakes his head. “This entire time… She was actually under my nose. So that’s what the bitch called herself all these years?? Of course she changed her name. But the ancient Augustan goddess of goddamn wisdom?? What a fuckin’ cunt you were, Phara....”

“No… No Athena was Rhemi’s Aunt! Not this Phara person!”

The confused expressions on all of their faces just infuriates Martin even more and his anger grows. “...Is that really what they told you, Ass-rat? That she was Rhemielia’s Aunt?” He laughs, despicably throwing back his head, strangely entertained by this. “Oh…. My! Is that rich!! I’ll tell you tha’! That is goddman FUCKING rich!!” He slicks back his hair with his hand. Traces of an arrogant, shrewd, high and mighty nobleman melt away. Exposing this angry, yet hurt and vulnerabile and even almost fear mix with his sadistic and toxic ego. It is off putting to see this side to the man, but he now felt more dangerous than ever.

“HEY! Don’t insult him!” Muriel growls, leaning his upper body over Rhemi’s shoulder.

Her father finally stops laughing, but keeps the same malicious grin as he looks at her. “.... My little pigeon... You really don’t remember anything at all. Do you??”

Rhemi squints her eyes and shakes her head slightly, unsure of what he is inferring to. But the way he says that, she’s almost afraid to know. “What—What am I supposed to remember exactly?..” She clutches onto Muriel’s forearm that’s blocking her from him.

Martin’s grin falls as he tilts his head sadistically beaming at her. “... Don’t you remember that your mother was a damn unfaithful slut?!” He mutters in a low vicious tone.

“W-What?!” Her face twists, not believing his disgusting insult. Muriel growls through his gritted teeth holding back the urge to pick him up, and throw him out the door. “How….. —How dare you call my mother th—”

“—Don’t you get it you stupid girl?? That fucking woman you for some reason or another, called your ‘Aunt’ was the witch who stole you and your mother away from me!”

“B-but….. A…. Athena was never evil…. She was kind…and…. She… She taught me magic–”

“–She’s the one who taught you what women should never learn! I told that bitch to help you control your magic! NOT TEACH YOU MORE! Magic is no place for a noblewoman in Charlès!! It would have absolutely destroyed our standing in the court! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY CAN DO TO PEOPLE LIKE US?”

“... What?!”

Silence chokes the shop once again, but the air now feels even heavier somehow.

Rhemi just stares at Martin’s face and an ice cold shiver runs down her spine once again.

Suddenly, she remembers his expression. “...Wha—?....”, she mutters as another flash of memory creeps in.

Her father is looking down at her the same exact way he is right now, but he’s much taller and only purple in his hair. She’s looking up, laying on the ground, blood trickling from her nose and forehead. Rhemi’s mother is trying her best to breathe. And Athena….. or was she Phara then…?? She’s fighting Martin with her magic... it’s all coming back so quickly— too quickly—It’s just.. too much! Make it stop!!!

A sharp pain hits Rhemi’s temples and spreads all the way over her forehead. This migraine…. it’s happened before, many times in fact, but not since Asra last told her about coming back to life. He’s always erased her memory to make this pain stop. She holds her head with both hands lightly, staring at the floor feeling more confused and disoriented by the second.

Martin trembles with fury as he continues ranting. “...Why do you think we haven’t seen each other since you were a damn child?! Why do you think you are called by a different name than the one you were given??”

A flood of emotions and memories pour inside her head all at once, the pain is just agonizing. She braces her temples harder, desperately wanting the pain to just stop. Her vision starts to even become hazy; In the corner of her eyes, for a brief moment, she can see her past self before she died, with her sick pale skin and blood red eyes just glaring so angry at her father. Her mouth is moving like she's giving him a piece of her mind, but she can’t hear anything coming out.

As Rhemi drops to her knees with a hard Thud, the old Rhemilia is gone. Muriel and Asra now turn their attention to the sound. “RHEMI !!” Muriel falls to the ground behind her and clutches her shoulders. “Rem!!! What’s wrong?!”

“It…. hurts….” She whimpers gritting through her teeth, eyes tightly closed shut, the light someone making it even worse. “It—it hurts so much!..... Muri-..... A-Asra!..... Fuck!!” tears overwhelm her eyes. “IT FUCKING HURTS!!!! Pleaaaase!…. Make it stop!!!!”

Muriel cradles her in his warm arms trying the best he can to comfort her. “.....I’m here, Rhemi.” He utters to her, fighting back his own tears. He’s never seen her in this much agonizing pain before in this realm. This is even worse than the dream with Ezavior back in the Steppe before the winter solstice. It's so hard for him to watch her be in misery like this, he just wants to take the pain away, but is left helpless as well.

But Martin just presses on and on, not even caring about his child’s obvious suffering. “Ugh! You blubber and complain just like your mother did…. I have had enough of this!!! We are leaving this godforsaken shit hole!”

“Stay away from her!!” Muriel growls.

Asra squints his eyes suspiciously towards her father and shakes his head. “Can’t you see she’s in pain?”

“I know my own daughter! She’s fine–” With a quick flick of his wrist his cane is suddenly in his hand. “Get up this instant, Rhemielia! We are going home.”

Muriel’s brow furrows even more as he stares a hole in his face. “What are you talking about?”

Martin’s nostrils flare as he glances back to his daughter and he presses his lips together angrily. “... Oh, so you mean you didn't tell them, Mielia? Why am I not that surprised.”

“... Tell us what??” Asra asks, staring at Rhemi with his purple eyes with hurt behind them.

“I….. I…” Rhemi’s bottom lip trembles, unsure what to say, she lied to them. All of them for the past few days hoping that she’d fix it. “I was gonna fix it, I swear–”

“–She’s coming home with me!” Martin finally says, cocking his head to the side. “Back home to Charlès where she belongs.”

“No…..” She whimpers through the pain and grasps her fiance’s arm. She could tell he was furious, she could only hope it wasn’t at her. “Muri… Muri I never…I tried to tell him–”

Feeling her tremble, he glances back towards her and takes her off guard to see his surprisingly understanding face. “Rhemi… It’s ok…” He gently strokes her hair, trying his best to soothe her through this terrible situation. She nearly collapses into his arm, wishing she was just honest with him to begin with. What was she really afraid of before??

“Oh for fuck sake—This game has gone on long enough, Rhemielia!!” Martin's angry voice interrupts, making her tremble all over again. “...So far, I was willing to play along, but I have now lost all of my goddamn patients!! Now get up, we are leaving!!!”

“.... LIKE FUCKING HELL!” Muriel aggressively grunts as he wraps his arms around Rhemi's, determined to never let her go. He still didn’t understand why she lied, but then again, this man was crazy… Deep down, she must have been terrified of him.

Asra stands in a wide stance, hand up and ready to do whatever he has to keep Muriel and Rhemi safe. “I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome, Sir Martin. Don’t you see that she doesn't want to go with you?...”

Unable to respond to a single person, she continues to wriggle around in pain clutching her head. It feels like hundreds of hot needles are pricking her eyeballs while simultaneously being hit with cold hammers in her temples as if she were a bell. The pain was absolutely agonizing.

But her father wasn’t apparently convinced as he started to hiss and spit with each word that came out of his mouth. “What little pigeon? Does the truth hurt? WELL HOW DO YOU THINK IT FELT FOR ME?!!—My family was ripped apart because of some FUCKING WITCH WHORE BRAINWASHED YOU AND YOUR MOTHER! And you and your mother was stupid enough to believe her! Then that STUPID BITCH TURNED YOU BOTH AGAINST ME!!! SHE EVEN ATTACKED ME!!”

Pulling up his right sleeve, he shows to everyone the terrible old burn marks across his entire forearm. “—THAT WITCH SET OUR HOME ABLAZE!!–EVERYTHING I WORKED FOR!! EVERYTHING I DID, BURNED DOWN ALL AROUND ME!! ALL OF IT WAS FOR YOU AND YOUR UNGRATEFUL MOTHER!!! Do you have any idea what I had done to get in the position I’m in, Pigeon?! HMMM??? What I had to do to secure your future?? And then your mother and that cunt threw it all the fuck away! AND FOR WHAT?! To live in a piece of shit like this??” He shouts guestering to the shop with his left hand.

“... I GAVE HER DIAMONDS! I GAVE HER SILKS! A MANSION! STATUS! EVERYTHING SHE EVER WANTED!!!!”

Asra eyes widen and he starts to panic as he watches Rhemi slump over in agony on the floor. “R-Rhemi!!” Confronting the Archmagister, he summoned magic into his hands about to strike. “You need to leave! NOW!!! You're no longer welcome here—”

“—STAY OUT OF THIS, YOU QUEER SACK OF SHIT!!” Martin shouted, holding up his cane pointing it at the white haired magician.

But Asra refuses to back down and starts to make a whip from the water in the air. “I said…. Leave. GET. OUT!” Asra shouts back, threatening him with his weapons. “Don’t make me hurt you in front of your own daughter!”

Martin looks him up and down with a sneer. “Do you really think an Archmagister fears water, you goddamn idiot?”

“She SAID, she doesn’t want to go with you, Martin!!!”

“... And I was not asking…” Martin hisses as the jewel in his cane starts to illuminate, his dark metallic magic quickly summoning to his fingertips.

In one swiftful move, Martin throws up his walking stick, the strange stone brightly illuminating, green and purple magic pours out of the stone handle, opening a barrier spell around him just as Asra conjures sharp ice sickles a half second too late. This barrier was the kind that would get stronger the harder someone from outside would hit it and the sharp sickles break instantly after impact.

With a smug look on his face, Martin starts to take a few steps closer toward walking past the magician no matter what he did. Now standing over Rhemi and Muriel, the barrier shielding just himself. “.... Get your disgusting monstrous hands off my daughter and give her back to me, you bloody creten.”

“Over my dead body.” Muriel grunted, holding his lover even tighter in his arms, refusing to let her go. “LEAVE HER ALONE!!” Muriel glances up at him hatefully and growls as he protectively tucks Rhemi closer to his chest and covers her body with his arms. “—GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!!” He shouts with his booming voice loudly cracks like thunder.

“What?... Are you gonna kill me? Indeed you were rather good at killing back in the colosseum, weren’t you, Scourge of the South?” Martin smirks once again. “....Are you going to cut me down with your ax?”

His sharp words make Muriel shudder, shaking him from his core. It’s been over a year since he has heard that name—no one dares to call him that after everything he’s done for this city.

Suddenly, Muriel can feel himself being ripped away from Rhemi like a powerful wave of dense, heavy water. Despite his strength, and tried as he might, he could feel himself being whisked away. “No! RHEMI!” It’s no use as he is overwhelmed with the force and is thrown towards the staircase.

“Muriel!!” Rhemi weakly cries out as she falls face first to the floor, her hand outstretched for her lover, tears streaming down.

SMASH!!! The poor hermit’s grunts out a heave of pain as he crashes into the staircase, breaking some of the wooden steps underneath him and ripping up the back of his shirt. His forehead is trickling blood slightly from the cuts. It takes a moment to get up, but he recovers himself, realizing that Martin expanded the small barrier, and pushed him out, leaving Rhemi alone with her father unprotected on the inside.

“R-...RHEMI!!” Muriel cries out, chest filled with dread as he scrambles to his feet, ignoring the pain that he’s in. “NOOO!!!” He yells, ramming his large right shoulder into the barrier as hard as he can, but it just makes a Thoom sound as he makes contact with it.

Now seemingly getting his way, her father seems to have slipped back into his prim and proper self as if he did just lose his temper. He clears his throat as he slicks back his slightly disheveled hair as he strolls over to where poor Muriel is struggling to break down the barrier with his bare hands. Somehow Martin looks down his nose at Muriel, despite him being much taller, sneering. “.... I thought I recognized your ugly botched-up mug, you bloody bastard…”

Muriel gnashes his teeth, so angry and terrified at the same time.

Martin glances down to his gloves to adjust them as he continues to speak, almost insanely calm, considering the situation. “.... Back in the day…. His Majesty liked to come here to this shit hole of a city for the tournaments and I would frequently accompany him… He and I won a lot of bets on you when you killed for a living in the colosseum….. I am right about that, aren’t I, Scourge of the South?”

The hermit could feel his jaw clenching as he slams both fists on the barrier like a gorilla, getting angrier and angrier by the moment and nearly only seeing red. But all his effort was no use as he was constantly being pushed back by the barrier. If he got his hands on this man right at this moment, he'd most certainly tear him to ribbons.

The Archmagister’s viscous smirk curls up wider. “Judging from your reactions, I am….. And to think….. someone like you believed they were going to marry my daughter…”

“FUCK. YOU!!!” Shouts Asra as he does his best to try and open the barrier with his own magic.

Muriel just stands there silent, showing his bare teeth before starting to pound on the barrier harder and harder.

“M-Muriel… Asra..” Rhemi whimpers as she opens one eye and still clutches her head, unable to think straight from all the pain. She tries to stand, but stumbles right back down again. Out of the corner of her eye she can see her sweet Muriel’s head trickling with blood. Quickly, anger swells in her chest, making her heartbeat ring hard in her ears. No one hurts my Muri. No one calls my Muri the Scourge. “...Get…. out…. of my house...” she mutters furiously. “L-... Leave…. us… alone…”

Martin turns himself back around to see the sight of his pathetic looking daughter on the floor. In just a few steps is standing over in front of her. “.... I don’t think you understand, child... You and I are leaving this place. You no longer live here. You and I are getting on that ship and we are never coming back here!”

“No… No I am not!” She hisses, trying to get through the pain. But then a sharp tugging sensation on her scalp makes her shrek yet again.

Suddenly, he snatches the hair on the back of her head and jerks her up to her feet. She cries out painfully, trying to hold his wrist as he peers down with such deep loathing into her eyes. “Look at what you are making me do, Rhemielia. I don’t want to hurt you, child, but you leave me no choice! You will get on that ship! Even if I have to drag you all the way there!”

“—Let me go!” She squeals pitifully.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER!!!——LEAVE HER THE FUCK ALONE!!!” Muriel keeps punching, kicking, and ramming himself into the barrier repeatedly to no avail. His poor arms start to bruise under his shirt and his knuckles and elbows even start to bleed.

Asra cries out, “RHEMI! HANG ON!!!” As he desperately tries various spells to try and break it, but nothing is working. This is no ordinary magic… Asra inner thoughts scream in panic, completely confused at how this barrier was so strong for a simple spell. Soon, his fingers start to bleed him trying to claw the barrier open, but it's still no use.

Completely disinterested in Muriel or Asra, Martin leans his face into hers as she grimaces and bares her teeth in pain as he gruffly mutters. “I will never let you out of my sight ever again... You are my daughter and you will obey me! Now… We. Are. Leaving. Now—HOOOOF!!!!”

Finally, Rhemi musters up the energy into her right knee and shoves it into him with all her might. Just nearly misses his groin, she knocks all the wind out of his lungs and makes him release her, but the barrier still is holding strong.

She stands to her feet taking a wide stance, tightening her hands into fist by her side. “I said…. get out… of my shop!” She says through her gritted teeth, somehow now bearing the pain and fluid by pure fury.

Martin regains himself and starts to lurch forwards towards her angrily, about doing something drastic and violent. But she picks up her head, eyes wide and wild, revealing that irises have brightened to a fiery orangey-red and her body starts to steam with searing heat. Her father hesitates, sensing her power quickly building and Rhemi feels her magic suddenly stick in her throat.

“Père……. Get… the fuck….. OOOOUUUUUT!!!!!” Her voice amplified, making a god awful loud shriek like a banshee from her lungs as she continued to scream.

Suddenly, the unnatural screech shatters the barrier from the inside, breaking apart along with all the glass in the front of the shop that bursts into thousands of shards across the ground. Forcing Martin backwards slamming him against the front door. He holds his stomach as he tries to get to his feet.

Muriel and Asra are forced to cover their ears with their hands, and Faust covers her little head with all of her snake body. It’s so loud, feeling their eardrums wanting to rupture as their ears as they continue to ring loudly. The awful sound even disrupts all of their equilibrium, making them feel off balance as they attempt to stand.

Finally, she stops her awful howling, and sharply takes in a breath of air as if she came up for air in the middle of the ocean.

Martin coughs hard and it turns into a cackle, somehow amused by all the pain, or perhaps he’s still a little drunk. “That witch really was a piece of work teaching you that kind of shit magic…” He mutters trying to get himself off the floor.

Rhemi breathes shallowly trembling head to toe as she glares at him. “...You hurt my mum…... ” She mumbles to herself. Asra and Muriel finally regain their balance and they rush over stepping in front of Rhemi once again. “You tried to kill her…”

Martin barks a laugh and a little blood oozes from his head. “Phara made you think that didn’t she?! I never tried to kill her—”

The poor girl’s lip trembles as tears stream down but her forehead narrows so angrily. “—I… I never want to see you again.”

Martin pauses for a moment, his face stricken with pain. Not from the injuries, but what she had just said. “.... I want you to leave… and never…. EVER come back!!!”

His eyes seem to water for a moment, but then he shakes his head and pushes aside the sadness with a sadistic smile. “ Nooo…. No, no no.... You really don’t get it do you, Pigeon? I’m here to stay, whether you like it or not!! You are my daughter!!... YOU ARE MY CHILD!! Now that I have found you—I refuse you to end up like those lowlifes that stole you away from me!!!” He sticks his thumb into his chest hard.

Asra conjures a whip out of water finally getting to his feet with a ferocious wrathful expression. “Rhemi told you—you're no longer welcome here, Martin!!!” Quickly, he cracks it at him, breaking down the front door. He stops the blow by forming a small shield with his walking stick, but he’s still forced outside, shattering the wooden door from its hinges onto the cobble street. “... SO, GET OUT AND STAY OUT!!!!”

He stumbles to his knees, still laughing in amusement. “Interesting… You really are just like your fucking mother, Pigeon… she always had to run and hide behind people who are stronger too.”

Muriel and Asra stand their ground as Rhemi becomes breathless and suddenly feels so weak. Realizing that she was just hiding behind them. She’s never done anything by herself, ever. She had help with the courtiers, the battle with the devil, and even now. She’s always had help. So… what can I do?....

Martin slicks back his hair with his head, and wipes away the blood oozing from his head, slowly realizing that he is no match for two magicians and a nearly seven foot tall ex-gladiator.

He finally stands to his feet and brushes off the dirt from his clothes and straightens his neck tie, and summons his cloak and hat and dramatically bursts the door wide open. “I’ll be back.” He shouts before turning walking away down the street.

“WE’LL BE READY!” Muriel retaliates hitting the door frame with the side of his tight fist wishing it was the man’s face. He and his best friend watch as the man disappears into the night and onlookers just stare at the drama unfolding.

As soon as the tension calms down, and his anger subsides, Asra hastily fixes the now bellowed door back straight with his magic and places the locking spell on the door.

Muriel swiftly turns himself back around his beloved. Rhemi is just standing in the shivering, on the verge of hyperventilating and tightly digging her fingers into her scalp. Muriel rushes over to her and gently places his hand over her’s, letting her know that he is there. “.... Rhemi?”

“.... I—I let...him in my home—I-In our lives!… I let that bastard in here, Muri...” She whimpers through her tears.

She grabs his shirt with her trembling right hand and he pulls her into his chest. He winces slightly, her skin is hot to the touch—Not like a fever, but like a hot kettle under a fire. Despite this, he brings her close, and she goes willingly, immediately her skin cools down to normal.

“This is my fault...” Feeling something wet, she glances through her tears and sees the blood on his head and arms. “My god, Muriel, honey! Y-you—y- you’re b-b-bleeding!….”

“T-They’re just scratches—I’m fine.”

Burying herself in his chest, she cries even harder. “T-...t-this is all my f-f-fault… You tried to tell me…”

“Rhemi….it’s alright. He’s gone.. and he won’t ever lay another finger on you again… Not if I have anything to say about it.” Muriel mumbles looking furious and heartbroken at the same time.

“T-this is all my fault… this is all my fucking fault…..” She keeps repeating over and over again.

“What?? No! Rem—This isn’t your fault!!”

“—I let that—that— monster in here!!..... That’s what—what she’s—trying to tell me!!!—She was warning me!! Everyone tried to tell me—-but I didn’t—I didn’t listen….”

“What?? Who?—”

“That….. other me!! The o-o-ne in my dreams!!—AHHH!” She shuts her eyes tightly as a huge wave of pain hits her temples and travels down her neck and she can feel her heartbeat throbbing with the pain.

“...Y-....you couldn’t remember, that's not your fault, Rem!”

“I-I-I-I can’t handle this. This fucking hurts so fucking much!”

“I—It’ll be ok. You-…. You just need to breathe—”

“—Muri, I— I can’t…do this…...I-I-I—I can’t—I…. I—” Out of nowhere, a high pitch ringing in her ears takes over and her vision starts to fade into a dark gray nothing.

“.... I-... I...can’t….” She utters one last time. Without warning, her body collapses into Muriel’s chest, complexly boneless.

“Rh—Rhemi??” Muriel catches her before she sinks down all the way to the floor and his heart sinks sickenly. Gently, he shakes her, but she doesn’t respond in the slightest; She’s like a little ragdoll in his arms, and he soon realizes that she’s no longer conscious, her eyes half shut, and her pupils blown.

“Rhemi…… Rhemi???—RHEMI!!!!!!” His voice echoes farther and farther away like she’s being aimlessly transported into the darkness.

Tar-like hands reach out for her and pull her down into the mucky sickness, before she could cry out, her mouth is covered with black oozing hands as she is sucked into the darkness.

✨To be continued…

[WOW. Just.... fucking wow....

It's been more than a fucking year since I have posted. I am so sorry! I have had an incredibly tough year, between my own medical issues, selling a house, and moving, life has been getting away from me. I also know I'm kinda beating a dead horse here since the fandom has kinda died and I have no idea what even happening in the fandom lately. But whatever! Here this is! I still really for some stupid reason really want to tell this story, no matter how cringe or hyper-fixated it is. I really want to tell this story *shrugs*

Anyways! Thank you for all the lovely trash pandas that are still here <3. As always, enjoy my hot garbage!]

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lawrichai · 2 years

Link

Kickstarter: Alaris — Fantasy-Romance Visual Novel

A game inspired by the lore of Dragon and Fae. Where your choices have the power to shape your story, personality, and relationships. A world of magic awaits! Alaris is a fantasy-romance visual novel, where you can customize your character for a dynamic and immersive experience steeped in magic. You decide whether you will be brave, kind, wise, or charismatic. You take command of your fate as you uncover a history lost to the ages. Play the demo on Itchio and Steam

#Alaris #Crescent Studio #Kickstarter #Visual Novel #Amare Game #Otome #Indie Otome #Indie Game #Fantasy Romance

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hummingbird-games · 4 months

Text

2023 In Review (Indie Games)

Last year's! | 2021

I apologize in advance for how long this might be. As a reminder, I don't bash games here so even if I hated something with every fiber of my being...I ain't sharing. As a second reminder, my more in depth reviews and live blogging has moved to Gem's Game Gems so I don't clutter the HBG's main blog. Okay. ON WITH THE REVIEW!!

DEMOS

Diffraction (Demo)- A rainy day otome indeed. I love the quiet gentleness of this game, the two romance options, and the fact that our MC is a photographer and struggling with her art and stack of life "failures" (because...SAME!!)

Alaris - I was asleep and now I am awake: I came late for the advertised fae and dragon lore, stayed seated and waiting for Fenir zjgjdf. Oh, and I guess the mystery surrounding our MC's abilities LOL.

The Summit Library - When I say I was maaaaaad when I realized I blew through chapter 1 and would have to go back to waiting for more content??? LOL, I was very miffed. Anyhoo, check out this title for the gorgeous art, another intriguing mystery (like what is *up* with the magic in the poor library?? who or what is to blame?? 👀) and of course the lovely characters we've been introduced to thus far.

Of Sense and Soul - I'm a regency romance girl. Like after you strip away the other stuff, I am but a poor woman with simple needs: a good ass love story 🤧💛 It's about the yearning and the slow burn and the will they/won't they/PLEASEEE they...I've never been so charmed by a demo, and the full game is going to be amazing I just know it!

Made Marion - This project is a game I've been keeping tabs on for a hot minute but hadn't taken the time to sit and properly enjoy the demo. I'M SO GLAD I DID!!! It's in early access now, so I'm hoping eventually I'll be able to carve out some time to play, but guysss Velvet Cupcake is doing the Thing?!? No idea which love interest I'll go for first, but I had a fun time meeting the Nottingham peeps in the demo.

Herotome (Super Demo) - Oh gosh. Oh gosh oh gosh oh my GOSHHH. Where do I even began?? (Really the question is where the hell do I end because this is one of those projects I talk about a lot/think about a lot and surprisingly haven't run out of things to say zkjfksjd). Another game I've been following for a while, it 100% lives up to the superhero genre in its aesthetic, the characters you interact with, the music and sound design, and of course the slowly unfurling story. Jade and Mia had come out as my top faves, Warden is still there, like hovering in the backgroud, shhhh but I have a special place in my heart for Griffin too (that conversation we have with her?? I have so many screenshots just so I can go back and reread and sear the words in my brain. Like a weirdo. Yup.)

Celestial Crowns - Stats building, celestial royalty, dating sim where you fuck around and find out your choices directly affect your MC's personality?? I'm sat. I supported the Kickstarter and now I try to practice patience for the full game's release siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighh.

OTOME/JOSEI JAM

Please note this is a SUPER abridged list for my sanity and I fell a little more in love with these 2 jams with each entry I played...

Intertwine - As embarrassing as it sounds, I've never given much thought to the "red string" thing, and I consume more than enough romance media LOL!! But Van is suuuuuch a beautiful man, the UI for this game is so interactive and lovely, the music is ALSO lovely, just lovely-love all the way around teehee. (Also this game encourages replayabillity so like, do with that info what you will.)

Spring Boy [Demo] - I believe this game is going through a complete rehaul, so my thoughts and feelings refer to the original jam entry I played. The art is bright and cute and it's a super super short demo, but I was intrigued by the other student we meet on our mission to plead with our professor about our bombed exam lol!

Assignment Due: Project Blue - IRl group projects??? Suck absolute ass. Group projects with a guy name Asher?? Suddenly it's my new favorite thing in the world 😁

Cryptid Campaign Manager [DEMO] - Remember the last time I looked over a cryptid dating sim??? Remember how I was SUCH a fool?? Good thing I didn't make that mistake again!! The prologue is such a tease but you get an idea of what the full game is gonna be like, and I'm excited to see where my career involving love (and politics) goes!

Heart Cage [Demo] - Yoooooo I stay my ass far far far away from yanderes (could never get into the trope or the character type). WELP. Guess I just needed to keep searching because I really downloaded this off a whim--well, the whim being one of my fellow dev peers playing and rating-- and proceeded to get sucked in 🤧I thought being a detective would be the highlight, but I guuuueeesssss I was more into the romance options than I thought. Oops.

Evernight - I tried to explain what this game meant to me on the side blog, but words failed me. I still don't know what to say other than I loved it?? Which is like ummm I say I love everything, and yeah I'm easy to please BUT Y'ALLLLLL if you play no other game, play this one. Please. Date a werewolf. Or a vampire. Or a fae. Plz. Also figuring out the mystery of your MC's abilities and past is just delightful, ugh.

Bright Oak (demo) - Anotha one I wrote about on the side blog!!! Play this one!!! The writing is lush and atmospheric and the characters are all delightful and it's another game with a mystery to untangle!

The Faithfulness of the Universe- This one gets the award for most unique all around entry that I played. Theeeeee prettiest pixel art to bless my eyeballs, and this tasty mystery concerning Fate and witch Faustina's future (or lack thereof 👀) and what it all means. As a player I very much want to know what it all means!

A Cup For All Seasons - Another game that needs its flowers y'all. It's short but super healing and super cozy and the voice acting and music really tie the gaming experience together???

The Working Woman's Guide to Burning Bridges - DEMO - It's the way I played the demo twice and I've been thinking about it ever since 😭😭😭🙃 obviously life happens and things come up, plus this was a demo. But. BUT!!! I am on my hands and knees prayinnggg the team gets together again to finish the game. I love playing as a stressed, lowkey bitter hot mess who doesn't have her life together 😂somehow the fictional version is soooo much more entertaining!!!

Keyframes (Spring Demo) - After the game College Craze, this is legit THE college, slice of life visual novel of my dreams. I cannot wait for the updated demo next year, and the Kickstarter whenever that rolls around. And now that the developer is on Tumblr, I've definitely been stalking the account and reading each new post like it's my day/night/weekend job 🤧

Hello Counsel 💋 - Okay I take it back, Evernight is like a 20/10 but Hello Counsel is like an 100/10 👁️👄👁️ This game is necessary for my mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual health, alright? The banter ✅ the character designs ✅ the music ✅ the sizzling chemistry between Poise and Salem ✅ I wish this game had more buzz because IT'S SO GOOD!!! (also the dev, Miseri, is who I wanna be when I grow up. I've made it through almost their whole backlog of games and there are no misses and EVERY game is different from the rest and it makes it hard for a toodler dev--ME--to cope LOL)

Candied Hearts - Isekaied into a candy themed game?? Sign me TF UP!!! (Peppermint I love you dearly, you must understand.)

Fully Released & Played (at least 1 playthrough)

The Knight's Dilemma - I don't even know how I originally stumbled upon this??? I just know it had been in my backlog for a hot minute and I was intrigued enough to save it way back when. Y'ALL WHY DIDN'T I PLAY SOONER SKJFHFJFH! There's a couple different endings, I loved the voice direction, AND it's such a simple concept of a game that was just executed beautifully.

Trouble Comes Twice - If I had to make a top 5 list of romance VNs, guess who makes the list?? Guess. Guess guess guess. Have you guessed yet??? LOL! I have been in love with TCT since it's development days and with each passing month, waiting in anticipation, playing the Pateron beta builds, screaming on the main blog about every single thought I had about Jace and Hazel (shoutout to Jace for helping me figure out *me*) Lol if you're curious about said thoughts, those posts are on this blog and not the side blog.

Aelfric the Wondrous - 10/10 would love to forget my first play through JUST to have that experience fresh again 😭😭💛Cute and funny and a wonderful parody type game all around.

A Summer's End - Hong Kong 1986 - Goodness, there's no excuse for why this took me years to finish but anyhoo, I finished, I loved it, I recommend it! It's romantic and achingly authentic and the art is soooo gorgeous I literally can't stand it 😭

The Things You Do For Love - Unhinged yandere manages to entertain and garner sympathy and laughter from Gemini. And that poly ending is chef's kiss too????

Band Camp Boyfriend - There are a handful of games I found and loved before I began my game development journey, and this is one of them. BCB is so dear to me, because of the story and characters but also because of the Dynamic Duo creators and their team behind the scenes. I was never a band kid I was a chorus kid but just as the band geeks loved this game to pieces, us normal folks do too!! Even the boys who I didn't like I STILL managed to find joy in playing their routes (still have a few more to finish at the time of this posting lol, GOTTA GET THE FINAL ROUTE YO). Anyway, this game more than delivered for me and I hope more people keep discovering it!!

Belle Automata: Chronicle I [RELEASED] - While only Chronicle 1 is out at the time of this posting, I already know that the 2nd and 3rd parts are going to be just as amazing???? I wrote about this one on the side blog, so here's my copypaste that still rings true:

I love TNP (The Nightmare Prince) but Victor’s route hit the sweet spot for me. Maybe it’s the slow(er) burn nature of this route, maybe it’s the reserved nature of Victor and watching him slowly start to care (AND NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THOSE FEELINGS TEEHEE) for me.

A Date with Death - I wrote about this on the side blog--again--. The demo. And then right after finishing a route. And then again where I was fully awake and still managed to sound deranged. No copypaste for that, I shall be nice. But yeah!! Another game where I was screaming at the sky about how much I love it and how I'll never know peace as long as I live.

Our Life: Baxter DLC - I need to offer an official apology to both Cove and Derek because falling head over heels, down the stairs, crashing into the parking lot, falling again but down a manhole for Baxter's infuriating ass was NOT on my 2023 bingo board??? HELLO???? I bought his DLC just to complete my OL collection. Was not expecting to love it this much. Was not expecting to be called to write fanfic and abandon all responsibilities to do this. WHILE DOWN WITH COVID TOO. Allow me to play the song of my people. *Send in the Clowns plays*

Our Cinderella - (this is so funny I'm taking about a side game before the main game LOLOLOLOL) Guys. Guysss. You guyyyysss 🥹if you're looking for a cozy, hilarious, equally oddly and wonderfully sweet short game, this is the one!! You may have your personal favorite Iggy ship (like me) but all the pairings are so amazing and just make sense lol!

Wylde Flowers - This is the only non visual novel game on here but it gets the spotlight because I did NOT spend 90+ hours on this game to gatekeep this beauty. No. It the coziest, the funniest, the funnest, the most addictive Switch game (after Teacup) I've ever played.

Fully Released (& still on 1st playthrough)

Garden of Seif: Chronicles of an Assassin - Life kicked my butt and then sat on me SO while I finally got my grubby hands on the full copy, I still have only played the entirety of the demo. But. We will return to this in 2024 and hopefully I'll have a full review for the next wrap up!

Our Wonderland - I looked back at the side blog and I can't believe it was only THIS year that I started OW??? Because I'd known of the game and the dev for longer than that??? So basically what I'm saying is that I was chicken shit for longer than I've been in love with this world that Developer Carrot has created kjzhhshggj. But OMG to get me, who is scared oh so easily to get hella invested in this clearly labeled horror game??????????????? And even with shit gets super absurd and hella disturbing, I cannot stop playing. At the time of this post, I'm only in Act 4, hence the category above, but it's only because I play each act in a sitting and lose track of space and time and myself. That's a compliment btw.

...

Okie!! That's 2023 in a nutshell! I played a looooot of really good games this year and while I would have liked to talk about them all, I think this list provides a nice overview.

Let me know if we share any favorites!

- Gemini 💛

#gaming year in review #gamedev rambles #yeah no I cannot keep creating more work for me #2024 I am GOING to make a shorter list 😭🤧#hmmmm fun drinking game:#take a shot every time the word 'mystery' is used ☠️

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ravenstargames · 2 months

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Could you explain what lost in Limbo is?

*JAZZ HANDS* ✨ AHEM!! Glad you asked, anon! I will assume you are not familiar with visual novels (for the sake of answering the question as best as I can if anyone else stumbles upon this ask), so let's break down Lost in Limbo to its basics! If you have any more doubts, you can always send another ask! 💜

*Also friendly reminder that English is not my first language and I also suck at explaining things, so I'll do my best ; v ;

✦ Lost in Limbo is a dark-fantasy romance visual novel...

As the title says! A visual novel is a videogame genre mostly defined by its interactive nature and for heavily leaning into its narrative aspects. It's like reading a 'choose your own adventure' book but seeing 'everything' that is happening on the screen. Interactive fiction, they also call it!

You basically play through a story, reading it, having visual depictions of the characters and the places as the story happens*, and you can usually change the story's outcome or some other aspects like relationships via choices or other forms of interaction. There's usually a couple of different endings to the 'same' story!

*Not all visual novels have choices, or have all their characters / scenarios depicted, etc. There's a lot of ways to do a visual novel!

Lost in Limbo is focused on the romance / fantasy genre, and the story takes place in a fictional world you'll explore as you play. You'll be able to experience the story through seven different 'routes', meaning you'll have to choose a character to romance and find more about the story and the cast through that very same romance. This kind of visual novels are often referred to as 'otome', 'amare', or 'dating-sim'. Each term has its differences so if you are interested, I suggest doing some research on them!

To keep this short, you can learn more about LiL in our Masterpost! Which needs another update!

If you are curious about this kind of games, you can check out different 'otome' games / dating sims on itch.io, Steam, and even the Nintendo Shop! OR TUMBLR!! Here are some personal recommendations of fellow indie devs that are working / have worked very hard on their projects!

✦ Alaris and Intertwine by Crescence Studio

✦ Made Marion by Velvet Cupcake Games

✦ Trouble Comes Twice by Foxglove Games

✦ Save the Villainess by Best Laid Plans Productions

✦ 3 Seasons by Hamilton Hour

So yep! A game. Interactive fiction game. You romance some hotties. You play through a story. You can die a few times and things can go downhill in numerous ways. You solve some mysteries and hopefully immerse yourself in the story. And a few more things!

#visual novel #otome #indiedev #lost in limbo #about the game

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Text

Just to kiss me (Part 3)

pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

(AO3 mirror)

Part One, Part Two, My Hunger Games Masterlist

summary: A night at the lake goes sour. Finnick does some reflecting

warnings: drowning, implied drug use, references to depression, some hurt/comfort (although there will be more in the next part)

required reading: The song "We'll never have sex" by Leith Ross <3

a/n: plot??? in my fic??? who woulda thought

wc: 3.4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

Not to take me home

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s cold. Sharp, shallow breaths, and his head pounds in his skull. The weight of a thousand depths on his chest. Something pressing behind his eyes; his head filled with lead.

Finnick opens his eyes, and he’s met with the bright lights of the mens bathroom. Cold ceramic against his palms as he looks into the basin’s mirror; its ornate frame spanning the width of the double sinks. Beyond its walls, the dull thrum of the gala. Behind him, a man steps out of a stall, donned in shiny grease and draped fabric. Finnick flashes a well practised smile, and steps out.

He walks through the corridors, transforming. Shoulders back, upright, leisurely pace. Walk in like he's Finnick Odair; capitol darling. A deep breath, and he steps through gilded double doors.

The Great Hall is packed, unsurprisingly. They all blur together, a writhing mass of limbs and wine. Hushed whispers and elbows and raised eyebrows: it washes over him like water.

Easygoing and free flowing, he drifts between embankments of people. He tugs on the sleeve of his jacket absent-mindedly. Pulling at the threads was an art, at this point. Between sips of champagne, a gentle hand on the back, a well-placed compliment; he pulls and pulls, until they're almost threadbare. An art; skills honed in those four walls, the victory tour, press conferences, a life of cameras and glamour. Watching, always watching. And so he puts on a show.

Some of his best work yet, he thinks. In the middle of a conversation about a raucous night with Panem's finest; he spots something. Someone. A girl in the corner, eyes flitting around the room like it's her first time. There's always one, shaky, doesn't know how to pretend like the rest of them; she hasn't built that reflex yet. His mouth moves faster than he can think; ichor flows like it's second nature. The group around him; enraptured. He likes this part, at least. Weaving stories, watching the fish in the river rush past his ankles.

BANG! A spear into the heart of a writhing salmon, and he slams his glass on a side table. "....it was like a rocket! Cora's on the floor, Alaris can barely stand and I'm still trying to figure out which way's up…" laughter erupts from the crowd around him. The girl barely glances at him. He watches as she tucks herself behind the desserts tray, wholly more interested in the cakes than him. She's pretty, of course, but they always are. A newcomer floundering like he once did, overwhelmed by the sharp teeth and pink tongues. He's still tugging at the thread of his jacket.

In the afterglow of conversation someone taps his shoulder, presses their lips towards his ear. Discreet. He doesn't look, Finnick knows better. Instead, he waits for instructions.

"Venia Laurel, on your left, towards the door. He knows something." A familiar voice; of which her name he makes a point not to know. Quietly, he hums in affirmation.

"How long do I have?"

"He needs it done tonight."

He flashes a smile at a waiter, grabbing a flute of gold liquid. Under his breath, he says. "I need more time." It was a quicker turnaround than usual; and Finnick needed the time. Whilst stupid, many wouldn't divulge sensitive information that easily; he'd like to avoiding waking up in a bed other than his own.

"Tonight." Firm. An unspoken threat in the air. He sighs and downs his drink. The mask drops when he begins to move away. And then, sharp nails latch onto his forearm.

"He knows." She says lowly, voice trembling. Finnick stops like she's stabbed him. He turns, and her eyes are wide, bloodshot, scared.

He knows.

He rushes out of her grip, shaking. Thudding at his temples, the lights are too bright, the people too loud. Chest tight, he pulls at his sleeves and almost stumbles into an oncoming tray of hor d'oeuvres.

In his haze, his manager, bumbling and rosy, slaps a hand on his back. Well-meaning, but it makes him jump.

"Odair!" He splutters, lips curling so his moustache touches the apples of his cheeks. Any other time, it would've been comical. "We've got a certain Councillor Arachne, who wants a word."

Finnick rubs his eyes, tired. "Now's not the time, Stannis."

The man opposite huffs. "Not the time? She's bankrolling us -I mean - you with her campaign. All she wants is a word. Probably pimping you out to her friends, or something."

He winces at Stannis' bluntness. "Sure… sure. Lead the way."

Every step feels like lead. He's not listening when introduced to Councillor Arachne and another girl about his age. Arachne; a tall, spindly woman, dressed in a simple gown and pearls; stretches her face into a thin-lipped smile. Well-practised, too polished.

"Mr Odair, how lovely to meet you again!"

"The pleasure's all mine," He says, shaking her hand. It feels clammy, he's sure of it; the room's hot and thick with sweat. The girl besides her buzzes despite his nerves. "And this is…?"

“V-Vonnie. Sir. Mr Odair… s-sir. My name's Vonnie Dulaire, and I am so excited to meet you…!" She's bright, babbling on and on. Her lips are bubblegum pink, moving at a thousand miles an hour and he's barely able to concentrate - unable to stop thinking about the words spoken to him earlier.

".....and I'm probably your biggest fan! I was actually at the victory tour for your mentee, and it was electric...."

He knows.

".....is your suit custom? I hear there's a stylist you always work with that designs similar looks, like in your last interview…"

He knows.

"....I can't imagine Ceasar actually said that to you, live! I've got a friend, who swears she 'doesn't watch that kinda crap' but even she said it was quite a scandal…"

He knows.

"....I got it specially made and I think it matches yours, too. What do you think?"

He snaps his head upwards at the question. He gives her a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, but enough to dazzle. "Couldn't have said it better myself. I-If you'll excuse me." He nods, walking off towards the door.

Finnick can't breathe.

Clawing at the collar of his shirt, gold jewellery like a noose around his neck, he stumbles onto the balcony - grateful for the cool air. He was careful, he made sure of it. Made sure there were no eyes, cashed in long-standing favours. How could Snow have found out?

Dizzy, he steadies himself on the balcony. There wasn't the time for a panic attack, not now. He blinks away hot tears, gasping for a breath. Something clatters on the floor behind him. In the gloom, he makes out the silhouette of a stranger. Of you.

~~~

You're frozen at first - paralysed with fear on the deck. Finnick isn't moving. A man basically born with gills, sinking into the inky blue. Why wasn't he moving? Did he fall? Where did the blood come from?

A thousand questions, not enough time. You don't think, not really, as you reach for the zipper on your gown. Haphazard, you wrench it off - not caring for the tears and rips created in your wake. Before long, you're in the slip dress underneath miles of beaded net. Barefoot, trembling, you don't hesitate. You take a step back, and jump.

The first thing you feel is cold; consuming, numbing cold. Calm, for a moment. And then biting realisation. When you surface, you look for a sign of life - anything that can tell you where Finnick is. There are slight bubbles, a few metres away. Deep breaths, and you dive into the blue-black.

~~~

He can't stop thinking about you.

Finnick sits in white sheets, looking up at the ceiling. Exhausted, but he can't sleep. Gentle snoring from beside him punctuates every thought. In the capitol he's constantly surrounded by beautiful things: gaudy, gauche, sickly-sweet and beautiful. Your meeting on the balcony shouldn't have been anything special, and yet…

Even in your fancy dress, your personality shone through: kind, funny, genuine. He can't help but replay your laugh, your smile, in his head. Gently, he rolls out of bed.

It's early in the morning, dregs of sunrise scatter through the window. He's draped in amber light as he pulls on a shirt; padding on plush carpet. In the mirror hanging up in Venia Laurel's bedroom, he looks a sight, he thinks. Sallow, glitter smeared around his eyes, and lean lined. There's a nasty bruise on his neck; bite marks at his stomach. He pokes at them demurely. It's tender, but he'll live.

Methodical, he makes his search. He starts in the bedroom, pulling at cabinets and looking for false bottom drawers, anywhere that could conceal what he's looking for. Laurel's apartment is surprisingly messy - unexpected for such a clean cut actor. Finnick dabbles in secrets, and the older man certainly divulged; he knew of the actor's connections with ex-gamemakers, but nothing concrete to suggest he leaked plans to interested parties.

When he searches the grand living room, he stumbles onto something out of place. A panel in the floor, it's lip jutting out of the wood. He presses on it, and it pops out with a hollow clunk. Inside, a chip the size of his thumbnail. Finnick pockets it, hoping it may be what Snow is looking for; hoping to appease the tyrant. It burns a hole in his trousers as he covers his tracks, before calling a pod to take him home.

He can't sleep, for the usual reasons. Guilt, nightmares, fear; take your pick. It's too nebulous and vague to put a name to; he realises quickly. A ticking clock careening towards the end for as long as he could remember. Tick-tick-tick in his head, a countdown of which he dreads to hear it stop. White noise now, the scratch and itch of it all bone deep. He tried to do a good thing, for once; he tried to help Annie. But Snow knows - and now his punishment will be slow and painful.

In the weeks that follow, waiting for a knife in the back, he analyses every word. On the balcony, the way your lips curled into laughter, how soft your hand was. It was a fantasy, somehow, one he had to convince himself actually happened. A conversation, lilting and light, that he locks up in his heart for safe-keeping.

It keeps him distracted at events. Instead of worrying about Snow, he fans his breath, adjusts his collar, and stops picking at his sleeves; preening like a songbird. When he asks for the sleeveless sheer shirt instead of his usual, his stylist humours him and lets him choose, just this once. In the middle of a conversation, when he hears bright laughter, he turns around, looking for you. Waiting on balconies, pacing corridors. He's gone insane, he knows. But he needs something to hold on to. Someone that makes him feel like a good person - like he isn't Finnick Odair.

~~~

You're not the strongest swimmer. Ironic, considering the circumstances. Moonlight streams into the depths as you look for a hint of gold. The water stings your eyes but in the gloom, you see him. Eerily still and rapidly sinking. You pump your legs desperately; darting towards him as best you can. Lungs screaming for air, you swim further down, reaching out for something to grab onto. The tips of your fingers graze his own. He looks peaceful despite it all: eyes closed and hand outstretched like he always does. Except this time you reach for him, a frantic grab in the dark.

You touch something. His wrist. Curling your hand around his forearm, you pull, and grab onto one arm and then the other. You're dizzy now, hand hooked onto Finnick, kicking with all the strength you can manage. Upwards you go, closer and closer to the surface as black spots dance across your vision. A little further. A little closer….

~~~

The day of Hadrian's soiree, he pretends he's not looking for you. Pretending proves to be marginally easier than to act like he isn't disappointed when he doesn't find you. Instead, there are droves of people in masks. The hair on the back of his neck bristles: they make him uneasy. He finds it harder without a face to a name, beady eyes through masks that follow him around the room.

His own mask was gaudy; triple faced and golden. Its strap itches his nose, and his eyes are caked in glitter. At his stylist's the night before, she gave him talking points for the reporters - a face looking towards Panem's past, present and future. A handsome young Victor, making waves within the Capitol, championing it's people. Pseudo-patriotic drivel to feed the vultures, he thinks.

Dregs of conversation drip through the night. It's always the same things - empty gossip and the like. Today's topic is no more poignant: the mentors announced for the 72nd Games. A few familiar faces, and faux shock at those not on the list. Everyone dances around the topic when he lingers, and disperses into whispers when he doesn't. Talking of bets placed and withdrawn at the news, he assumes.

The truth is, he was tired. It was only right he took Mags' place when he won, but he was so young. Odair, bright-eyed and sprightly. A wonderboy, and Capitol favourite from the start. In the mirror of silvered bowls of food, he sees that little boy with bloodied palms and sunken eyes.

He blinks, hard. The image washes away. Seeing things in the light? A side effect from the little white pills he takes before bed, he's been told. He staggers slightly from the table. Annie tugs at his sleeve from behind.

"You ok?" she whispers, concerned.

Finnick brushes her off, chuckling. ".... I should be asking you that. It's not too much?"

She shakes her head. It's the first time since her victory tour she's been at one of these events, and he's worried that it's too much, too fast. Perceptive as always, he watches for a tug of her red hair, or the blank look she gives when overwhelmed. Annie was getting better, lucid for the first time in a while. She smiled, she laughed, she shone.

That's why he couldn't tell her what he did, what he had to do, to let her see her parents. To let her live. Another time, perhaps.

She clears her throat, mischievously. "Looking for your mystery girl?“

“T-That's not-"

"-what you were doing, I know, I know. That's also what you said the last five times." She bounces on the balls of her feet, restless. "I know you like the back of my hand, Finnick. It's not like you to mope in the corner - something's up."

Annie's unrelenting: she doesn't let the man worm out of her gaze. Despite his discomfort, it's nice to see her like this; the little spitfire in Class 9, kind and sweet and determined to help. A change of pace, he presents his forearm to the younger woman.

He smiles, "We should dance."

~~~

You break the surface with Finnick in tow. He's completely still in your arms. Desperate and tired, you try to remember the swimming lessons from your youth; on your back, resting him on your legs with an arm hooked around him. Kick with everything you've got, keep his head above water. It's messy and ugly, as you pump your legs towards the shore; searching for the moment the depths below give way to sodden banks.

You hit silt, suddenly. Your toes touch the lake bed and you desperately try to drag him onto shore. Without the spray of the water, you can see him properly: sallow and grey. Like a corpse. His stillness is terrifying and you try not to think about what it means, or how long it's been since he's taken a breath. On autopilot now, you lay him on the banks, pressing shaky fingers to his pulse. Nothing. Rushing, you tilt his head upwards like you've been taught. With trembling lips pressed against his, you pinch his nose and breath out. You press your hands against his chest and push down, hard. Quick compressions, and you count from thirty.

Nothing. And so you try again. Warm lips around his cold ones, deep breaths out, and quick compressions. Again. Desperate, harder, determined.

When Finnick splutters to life, you think you could cry from exhaustion. His eyes are wild, as he coughs and thrashes; a hand tight around yours.

"It's okay…. y-you're okay…" You soothe, holding back sobs. It seems to calm him as he lies down, brow furrowed and taking deep shaky breaths. Up this close, his pupils are dilated, and he seems disoriented, dazed. There's a sticky cut at his brow, but his eyes are locked onto you. Green and striking in the low light. Alive.

For a while, you stay like that; watching his chest rise and fall as you hold hands by the lake. He's closed his eyes, but still breathes steadily. You barely register anything but him, until a chill blows past. Cold. Wet. Tired. The adrenaline of the moment dies down. You have to coax his hand out of yours to grab the things you dropped before… before all this. Every few seconds you glance over your shoulder to make sure he's still there, to make sure he's alive.

He settles his head onto your shoulder, and you cradle his hands with your own; listening for the cruel staccato of his breath. He's groggy, asleep maybe. You've wrapped yourselves up in the blankets, too tired to move. You should, really: the remnants of your dress strewn onto the jetty, shiny from where you are by the trees. Cottonmouth and lead-limbed, you wait for him to become lucid.

Something's wrong. You've felt like this before holding Vonnie's hand on the bathroom floor after a night out with the wrong crowd. Calm, and then a moment of mania before a rough comedown. You can't help but to search for needle marks on Finnick's arms, his neck, anywhere. He's pliant, unusually so, but you don't find anything.

Your heart sinks, when you realise. The pills in his car. Morphling? He could've slipped or fallen in. He could've… jumped. And if he's been drinking….? It wouldn't matter how strong a swimmer he was usually. You dread to think of what could have happened if you were even a minute later. Tears fall even faster. You hold onto his hand a little tighter.

When Finnick comes to, properly, you've fallen asleep. He opens his eyes to you by his side: hair down your shoulders, glitter-peppered skin, pearls in your locs, and in a white flowing dress. Well and truly, he thinks he's died. Somewhere faraway he doesn't deserve, waking up besides you. His head hurts.

You startle, awake from your shallow slumber. Eyes red-raw, you've been crying. He wipes at your cheek and smiles weakly.

"Let me take you home."

Defiant, you shake your head. "No. N-no. You need to see a doctor. I can call a pod and-"

"-no. We can't. No doctors. I'll take you home."

"Finnick, you almost died. You need help, medical attention…"

"I can't. Please."

He must look so pathetic like this, he thinks. You soften under his gaze. "N-no doctors, then. But I'm not leaving you alone like this."

"I'll be okay. I've got a first aid kit at home - don't need you worrying about me."

You stand up. "I'll come with you, then. Help patch you up."

Exasperated, he moves to argue but doesn't have the energy. And so, he nods faintly. Despite his injuries, he towers over you, to wrap you up in the blanket, criss-crossing at your chest. It feels intimate, too close, warm breath in the cool air. With the way you look up at him, he hears his heart splinter. He pauses.

"I'm sor-"

"No." You say.

Finnick frowns. "I'm s-"

"No." Your lower lip trembles, threatening to spill over. So he sighs, softly, and makes towards the deck to get your dress. Hand tight around his arm, you stop him. He's not going anywhere near the lake, not if you can help it. Hands up like he's guilty, he waits and leads you towards the car.

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x capitol!reader #finnick x y/n #the hunger games #the hunger games fic #angst #slow burn #Spotify #thg #thg x reader #kat_writes😼

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