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PRINCESS MAKER 1.5: ☆ZRAEL
[ When you insert the key and open the door, you'll find the room inside looks like the living room of a mansion. There are several doors, but one in particular stands out to you: it is ornately decorated, the very door's wood itself carved beautifully with gold etched in to make luxurious patterns depicting what looks like the sky and the wind blowing through the grasslands. Though the door is closed, you can see through it—as if it's somewhat transparent.
The room is painted baby blue and a gold-plated cradle sits in the room. Inside, a baby cries—high pitched and noisy. That child, your charge—you're her nursemaid, so you go to her and rock her to sleep. ]
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[ Slowly, the scene changes, fading in and out with various silent scenes—the baby sits up, trying to climb out of her cradle; a little toddler dressed prettily with expensive clothes beams pleasantly; a tantrum, thrown by the little girl who's distressed; the little girl holding a puppy, pleased as punch; then the wall becomes opaque. ]
[ In the middle of the open doorway, a young girl at the age of 11 sits on a chair, smiling at you. A long-haired, pure white cat is curled up beside her.
This is your little girl. you couldn't help spoiling her, honestly—after all, she's a noble too, and she should like to become a princess as well. She deserves it! But you also know, with how her family history has gone, she's going to have to work to get to the top. Still, you have faith in her—she's your girl, after all. 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 deserves the world: in the dark of the night, you received an ill omen. A vision of nightmare, if you will. You saw the flames dancing high, blood spreading through the rivers and streams - if the wrong person were to rebuild the Lost Continent, one not properly blessed by the shadows, then the calamity of dragonfire and hatred that had consumed this land centuries ago would once again visit it.
And you know this, because you saw it. Because you were told. Because you know. In this vision, you saw her - the girl impaled, the monster sent to her death for the crime of simply being too monstrous to be allowed to live free: ☆☆☆oth.
And as if that were not proof enough, the next day, you received a letter in the mail.
Your daughter would be sent to the Lost Continent, and you knew that she must be the one to rebuild it - even if she had to become a monster to do so. ]
The room is painted baby blue and a gold-plated cradle sits in the room. Inside, a baby cries—high pitched and noisy. That child, your charge—you're her nursemaid, so you go to her and rock her to sleep. ]
-
[ Slowly, the scene changes, fading in and out with various silent scenes—the baby sits up, trying to climb out of her cradle; a little toddler dressed prettily with expensive clothes beams pleasantly; a tantrum, thrown by the little girl who's distressed; the little girl holding a puppy, pleased as punch; then the wall becomes opaque. ]
[ In the middle of the open doorway, a young girl at the age of 11 sits on a chair, smiling at you. A long-haired, pure white cat is curled up beside her.
This is your little girl. you couldn't help spoiling her, honestly—after all, she's a noble too, and she should like to become a princess as well. She deserves it! But you also know, with how her family history has gone, she's going to have to work to get to the top. Still, you have faith in her—she's your girl, after all. 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 deserves the world: in the dark of the night, you received an ill omen. A vision of nightmare, if you will. You saw the flames dancing high, blood spreading through the rivers and streams - if the wrong person were to rebuild the Lost Continent, one not properly blessed by the shadows, then the calamity of dragonfire and hatred that had consumed this land centuries ago would once again visit it.
And you know this, because you saw it. Because you were told. Because you know. In this vision, you saw her - the girl impaled, the monster sent to her death for the crime of simply being too monstrous to be allowed to live free: ☆☆☆oth.
And as if that were not proof enough, the next day, you received a letter in the mail.
Your daughter would be sent to the Lost Continent, and you knew that she must be the one to rebuild it - even if she had to become a monster to do so. ]
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It's a witch hunt. Regardless of who was actually responsible, the seeds of mistrust and rivalry have already been planted.
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Until she can fend for herself, she'll need to play by the rules.
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