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Princess Maker 1.5: Heart Soldier Senshi
[ 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, her nursemaid, are there instead, 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 dog, 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 11 stands, smiling at you. A stern-looking shepherd dog sits obediently next to her.
This is your little girl. 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 she'll need a guiding hand, you know. Better she become a princess than go off to war, though—better that she bear the burden of aristocracy than living a life of loneliness wrapped up in duty like her mother, or losing that life on the battlefield like her father. Whether she actually becomes a princess or not . . . well, that's up to fate, isn't it? Fortunately, when she goes to the Lost Continent, she won't be alone: you, as her longtime caretaker (her third parent, really, or her first, if you consider how her family's left her care entirely to you), may accompany her to her new school. You'll be her ally, her support, her greatest weapon; you'll be the one who determines her success . . . or her failure. ]
[ Of course, you're not the only one that thinks your charge can do it: Joyous Dark Firestorm Starling, one of the Queens of your Kingdom, hand-selected your employer's child. She could not send her own child to the Lost Continent, of course—she has her own inheritance battle to face within the Kingdom and sending her own child out is essentially forfeiting that battle—so she's selected theirs to sponsor. It's because of her that your charge will be able to go at all—in other words, it's your patriotic duty to make sure your charge gets that inheritance. ]
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, her nursemaid, are there instead, 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 dog, 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 11 stands, smiling at you. A stern-looking shepherd dog sits obediently next to her.
This is your little girl. 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 she'll need a guiding hand, you know. Better she become a princess than go off to war, though—better that she bear the burden of aristocracy than living a life of loneliness wrapped up in duty like her mother, or losing that life on the battlefield like her father. Whether she actually becomes a princess or not . . . well, that's up to fate, isn't it? Fortunately, when she goes to the Lost Continent, she won't be alone: you, as her longtime caretaker (her third parent, really, or her first, if you consider how her family's left her care entirely to you), may accompany her to her new school. You'll be her ally, her support, her greatest weapon; you'll be the one who determines her success . . . or her failure. ]
[ Of course, you're not the only one that thinks your charge can do it: Joyous Dark Firestorm Starling, one of the Queens of your Kingdom, hand-selected your employer's child. She could not send her own child to the Lost Continent, of course—she has her own inheritance battle to face within the Kingdom and sending her own child out is essentially forfeiting that battle—so she's selected theirs to sponsor. It's because of her that your charge will be able to go at all—in other words, it's your patriotic duty to make sure your charge gets that inheritance. ]
Re: TALK TO NARI.
"I learned . . . uhm, there might be something weird going on with sportspuck. You know, last semester? It turns out, the people wearing gold—they were near the school that day. They're not part of the school, so it's pretty suspicious if you ask meeee. . ."
There's a pause.
"Oh, but I don't think they did it or anything. 'cuz there's no evidence of that. But I thought I should investigate it! So I've been going out. . "
Another pause, like she recognizes something—
"Sorry. Did I worry you?"
Re: TALK TO NARI.
But looking into a problem before jumping to a conclusion of any kind is always a good idea. Making hasty decisions can sometimes make things worse, because you don't have the full story. Remember the stolen goods from the other semester, well, it looks like the three girls accusing the commoner were found with them. [ she shakes her head. ]
[ she opens her mouth to mention the sports thing, but then closes it promptly. ] Heh, a bit, if I'm being honest. Going out at night, alone, can be dangerous. [ she's going to pull her into a hug. ] I'd rather you didn't, but I admire your search for the truth. You're a good girl and I love you very much and I'd hate for something to happen to you.
Re: TALK TO NARI.
"I'm sorry, Didi. I've been really careful, though!"
Re: TALK TO NARI.
Re: TALK TO NARI.
She looks a little shy.
". . . Actually, I got into sportspuck."
Re: TALK TO NARI.
Re: TALK TO NARI.
She says that with a huff, somewhat proud. What the fuck kind of name is
". . . We're not always playing together! But a lot of the time I get to play against her."
Re: TALK TO NARI.
I'm glad to learn she has a name. [ also what the hell are her other classmates names, LOL. ]
But that sounds like a ton of fun. Do you think you could teach me to play? Maybe instead of sneaking out at night we can dedicate some time to sportspuck.
Re: TALK TO NARI.