Entry tags:
princess maker - BAD END=DEAD END
[ When you insert the key and open the door, you'll find yourself in a humble cottage, in what seems to be the living room specifically. There are several doors, but a specific one catches your eye: simple in its decoration, the door has a cute little wooden plaque with flowers carved into it. Though the door is closed, you can see through it—as if it's somewhat transparent.
A wooden cradle sits in the room beyond, which is otherwise plain. Inside, a baby sleeps peacefully. When she stirs, calling for her parent, you are there to cradle her back to sleep. ]
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[ Slowly, the scene changes, fading in and out with various silent scenes—the baby coos pleasantly, giggling jovially when you (presumably) make faces at her; she tries to pick herself up and falls over, but she does not cry; a disagreement between you and her lead to a thoughtful discussion; the young girl carries a large laundry basket to do chores; she buys a pet bird, looking so proud for having earned the money all by herself; then the wall becomes opaque. ]
[ In the middle of the open doorway, a young girl the age of 10 stands, smiling at you. A bird with beautiful plumage rests on her shoulder.
This is your daughter. You tried your best to rear her, and she's been good to you. You know she is capable of anything if she puts her mind to it - even becoming a princess. But you also know it's not easy to become a princess - she'll have to work hard, and she's capable of it but you'll have to guide her hand, most certainly. Better she become a princess than go off to war, though; you could not stand to see your baby girl die on the battlefield. Whether she actually becomes a princess or not . . . well, that's up to fate, isn't it? All you can do is try your best. ]
A wooden cradle sits in the room beyond, which is otherwise plain. Inside, a baby sleeps peacefully. When she stirs, calling for her parent, you are there to cradle her back to sleep. ]
-
[ Slowly, the scene changes, fading in and out with various silent scenes—the baby coos pleasantly, giggling jovially when you (presumably) make faces at her; she tries to pick herself up and falls over, but she does not cry; a disagreement between you and her lead to a thoughtful discussion; the young girl carries a large laundry basket to do chores; she buys a pet bird, looking so proud for having earned the money all by herself; then the wall becomes opaque. ]
[ In the middle of the open doorway, a young girl the age of 10 stands, smiling at you. A bird with beautiful plumage rests on her shoulder.
This is your daughter. You tried your best to rear her, and she's been good to you. You know she is capable of anything if she puts her mind to it - even becoming a princess. But you also know it's not easy to become a princess - she'll have to work hard, and she's capable of it but you'll have to guide her hand, most certainly. Better she become a princess than go off to war, though; you could not stand to see your baby girl die on the battlefield. Whether she actually becomes a princess or not . . . well, that's up to fate, isn't it? All you can do is try your best. ]

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There's.... something else I need to discuss with you, though. And I want to say right here and now that I will believe what you tell me, so please keep that in mind. The neighbors have been whispering about drugs. Have you taken any?
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That gets him a look.
"I ain't taking any. Okay, wait - I did try it once, but it was gross! Like, alcohol? Shit's nasty. And I don't wanna breathe in any smoke."
She shrugs.
"But I'm not judgin' 'em for takin' it. My friends do take 'em."
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Moonfire pauses, giving a little frown.
". . . Uhhmmm. . . . does that count with kissing, too?"
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If anyone tries to touch ya in a way you're uncomfortable with... Same thing holds.
... Has someone done that to ya?
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"Uhm. She got kinda. . . close. . . to me. . . I dunno, she didn't really touch me though."
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What'd she do?
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Just, gesturing a bit.
"She leaned over an' I could feel her breath an' she said that I had a cute face an' I gotta be careful 'cause she could have totally kissed me, an' . . . that I'm way in over my head, 'cause I'm so young."
There's a pause, and she huffs - she's not sure how to feel about the distance, but she does know how she feels about the taunt.
"I'm old enough, though! I can kick her ass, I bet."
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-- She gets too close like that and you let her know, that type of shit ain't gonna fly, alright? And if she gives you any more trouble... We're gonna have a talk.
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She nods, pretty serious. Poppop . . . is serious . . .
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[ gives her a pat on the head. ]
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"Uhhmmm. What should I do if she keeps going even after I tell her to stop?"
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You remember how to take down a bigger guy than you from those classes of yours, right?
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"Yeah. I remember."
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We'll come get you. Anytime, anywhere. You understand me?
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"How do I tell you? It's really far away. . . "
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You call someone. Or you text.
You need me to show you how?
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Got it?
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"Got it!"
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" a'course I am!"