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Zakrelo
Dec 19, 2015
Michel :(

Toalpaz posted:

That was a really good read and game theory trans Michel crowd!

Yeah, I think this is how the nun could be connected. Otherwise I don't see how Michel and Giselle fit into Morgana's cursing pyramid scheme. And specifically how Morgana comes to occupy the mansion. I know the tower seems to be the place where she was imprisoned and died in, it just seems like the mansion itself is a bit odd for the era they're talking about. I'm thinking the first time Giselle meets Michel is while he's being cursed to tragedy... But that doesn't make sense cause Morgana can only affect the world of the dead!

Otherwise how does the mansion appear in the middle of nowhere for Michel to occupy, and why is this particular one haunted by Morgana. Becuase Morgana passed away In a city, and woods surrounded Michel's mansion (though there was a ruined village close by). It's quite a coincidence.

I'm just trying to understand exactly now Giselle and Michel ended up entangled with Morgana.

It was mentioned that Michel "awakened" Morgana IIRC, so presumably he gets exiled to the mansion by his family, the mansion happens to be the one Morgana died in, and he either intentionally or unintentionally revives her spirit, then as we saw Michel and Giselle get tangled up in Morgana's revenge scheme as pawns.

It is quite a coincidence Michel would get sent to that cursed mansion, but Morgana's story is basically all about unfortunate coincidences. I'm not sure we got a date for Morgana's backstory, so enough time could've passed to where the surroundings of the mansion changed to be how they are by Michel's time (assuming the mansion can't change locations or do anything magic while Morganas "dead").

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Like Clockwork
Feb 17, 2012

It's only the Final Battle once all the players are ready.

Poor Michel. I had a feeling this was coming and was bracing for it, but it still sucks.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
I'm on vacation for the next week, and I'm almost done with DQXI, so this thread should be reviving pretty soon.

PetraCore
Jul 20, 2017

👁️🔥👁️👁️👁️BE NOT👄AFRAID👁️👁️👁️🔥👁️

Poor Michel. He's not any less of a man, but it's not like there's really a trans community he could connect with. Hell, even today there's plenty of people who end up totally isolated and in horrific situations simply for not being the person others project onto them.

conclave
Oct 4, 2018
Woah what a read this was.
Having played this last year, it was refreshing to revisit the story in this format, with all the speculative comments.

Maybe this type of online storytelling could turn into a commercial genre? Kind of like how Mafia party game was first popular on online forums then online games were made.

I have to give props to ProfessorProf for keeping this thread going for months.

Your great work made me purchase an account on this site

conclave fucked around with this message at 15:42 on Oct 4, 2018

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

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






The first its parents embraced — and the second they wholly rejected. Although, it was some time before the baby’s second peculiarity emerged, and until it finally did, no one was any the wiser — not even the child itself. Its mother surely enjoyed that brief period of happiness — before her child finally realized the truth. Blind to the fact that the moment it had let out its first cry, everything came crashing down. To this day, she still doesn’t know the child she gave birth to... That she set loose a curse upon the world — a curse that turned angels into demons, humans into witches.



Hehe, she’s beautiful, isn’t she? Have you seen her laugh?
Not yet, I haven’t. At any rate... that color certainly is something else...
God’s gift to us. No... she’s an angel sent from Heaven.
An angel... Ah, yes. I can see it now, Lydie.
Her white hair and almost translucent skin, it’s beautifu —
— !
My, she opened her eyes! Maybe she felt you nearby. Hehehe, do you like your father more than me? Is that it, sweetheart?
Gorgeous, aren’t they? Such a deep, enchanting color... like two little jewels.
Ah... that they are...
A magnificent shade of red.
I-I’ve never seen anything like it! And this is our child...
She’s special... I can feel it. We have to take good care of her.
...
She needs a name — one that’s just as special as her. Have you already chosen, Antonin?
Y-You were the one begging for a girl. You do it. Besides, I already had to wrack my brain for the boys’ names.
Now it’s your turn.
Are you really going to let me? My, my, that’s quite a lot of pressure...
Name her after an angel then.
Oh, I like that. All right, then...
We’ll call her Michelle, after the archangel Michael.
You’ll grow up to be beautiful as an angel, my Michelle.
I’ve always wanted a little girl.

With her snowy white hair, skin so pale you could see the veins beneath it, and her ruby red eyes, she was a very peculiar-looking little girl, and her mother showered her with love. She truly believed her daughter was an angel sent from above, born as a human child. The blessed babe, born a girl, was given an angel’s name:



Me.



BGM: Girlhood in Shambles

Gah! ...Ahh, ahhhh, I see, that’s what you did! Curses, I completely overlooked that!
I thought you were advancing with your pawns... but that was all a diversion.
You’re too shortsighted, Didier. You need to look at the big picture. Sometimes, it’s the tactician and not the soldier holding the sword.
Haha... you got me. You’re quite good at this, Michelle!
What inspired you to take such an aggressive strategy?
It was not inspiration. It was derivation.
Derivation?
Chess is in many ways similar to real war tactics.
Ahh, my military texts. You haven’t read all of them, have you?
I have nothing but time.
Impressive. Even I haven’t read all the books in my room. You planning to join the order with that kind of knowledge?
You jest. You’re the one who’s going to be a knight, Didier.
Haha, that I am. War is the men’s job, after all. You — I want you to be there to welcome me home.
...



I didn’t know you were home, Georges.
Just got back, yep. Ohoho, playin’ chess again, are ya? Lessee, what do we have here?
G-Get away from the board!
Yiiiikes, you got trounced, huh. And you call yourself her big brother! Ahaha!
As if you’re any better!
That’s not funny, Georges. I cannot approve of someone who can’t keep up with the flow of battle becoming a knight.
Given our family’s rank, you would eventually be put in charge of other soldiers.
What, are you worried about me?
No, I’m saying...
Mhmm. I’ve been blessed with such a caring sister. But fear not.
I have a guardian angel, after all.
...Where’s the logic in that?
Ahhhh, ahem! Sorry to interrupt your, er, moment, but...
Does nobody listen to me...?
Haha... Now, now, don’t pout. So, what seems to be the problem, Georges?
Ah, yes, listen to this —



How unfortunate for you. I can already see you on the ground sobbing.
Hey, now! That’s just mean! Besides, my hands weren’t meant to hold a sword. Look at these dainty fingers!
They’re covered in calluses.
Dainty calluses!
Tell me, why would they have an artist swordfight?
That’s the whole point, I would think. No need to get so worked up — no one’s expecting you to win.
Maybe not, but we do have a name to worry about. And you know what that means, don’t you?
I’m going to lose! That’s a given! But I want to do it in style!
I feel bad for your sword.
Oh, don’t be like that. Now c’mon, time’s a-wastin’. To the courtyard we go!
Just so you know, if I train you, I’m going to train you right.
All I want to know is how to look good!
...Um.
Hmm? What is it, Michelle?
May I watch?
Fine with me. But you know you can’t go outside.
I’ll be watching from the hall. I can open one of the windows facing the courtyard...
Still, you need to be careful. You can’t spend too much time in the sun.
...I know.



The eldest, Didier, belonged to an order of knights that served the Church. And below him was Georges, who served as a court artist. He was, in all likelihood, who would inherit the family estate, as knights were not formally allowed to own property. Nevertheless, the Bollinger family name was upheld by Didier.

And then there was me, the youngest — the only daughter. Physically, I was not in particularly good health. Because of the color of my skin, I was hypersensitive to sunlight. I rarely left the estate. My world was contained entirely within these walls. And perhaps out of some sense of pity or compassion, my two brothers spent a good deal of time with me. Didier played chess with me, and Georges taught me how to draw. And among other things, they taught me how to read and write. For a girl, I was incredibly fortunate.

The one thing I wasn’t allowed to do, though, was hold a sword. While hardly anything unusual, it bothered me deeply. And it had for as long as I could remember. If I had been told I couldn’t do it because I lacked the strength, I probably would have accepted it. But the reason given was not that I was weak — but that I was a girl. And with each passing year, that smoldering frustration in the back of my heart grew larger.



L — L-Like I said, all I want is to put on a good show!
Oh, you’ll put on quite a show! Unless you learn how to swing that sword properly!
Gimme a breeeeeeeeak!



Out in the garden, my two brothers traded swings bare-chested. All I could do, though, was observe from afar. And every time I found myself forced to watch, I felt a sharp pain, like a needle piercing my chest. A needle that seemed to be growing ever thicker. My mother and my brothers loved me dearly, but that didn’t change the fact that the outside world lay beyond my reach. I was trapped in the estate by my own body.

At first, I thought that was the root of my pain. But that answer seemed to contradict something inside me — something I couldn’t explain. Something I couldn’t ignore, even as a child. So I searched within myself, trying to find an explanation for the constantly swelling sensation of wrongness inside me. Day after day, I gazed into the cavern of my own heart.



Georges was asked to do a swordsmanship show at the royal court, so Didier’s helping him...
Swordsmanship? Oh, I just can’t stand those shows. Blades are so dangerous; I can’t watch people swinging them at each other.
...
Why don’t you come back to your room with me, Michelle? I would love to teach you how to sew.
But Mom... I want to watch them practice...
Michelle.
...
First of all, you need to watch how you speak, young lady. You do not call me “Mom,” you call me “Mother.”
...
This is what happens when you spend so much time around boys. As your mother, I don’t approve of you playing chess or making art.
A woman has no need for such “skills.” They will only make you look insolent.
But...
I want you to grow up to be a respectable woman. That is my job, and my dream, as your mother.
...
Now, come. I would rather you looked at some fine embroidery with me than a couple of sweaty men.
...Yes, Mother.
You are my little girl, after all.



Was it because her world was so isolated? No. That wasn’t it. Her gentle voice. The sweet scent of her perfume. The way she constantly told me how much she loved me, and her diatribes about how wonderful it was to be a girl. Everything she did put so much pressure on me. But above all, she loved to say,



And there was nothing strange about that at all. Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw the daughter of a noble. That was who I was. So the only thing wrong was how I felt. But every time I was faced with the reality of who I was, my heart wavered. I had no interest in learning to embroider. I didn’t understand why that was necessary. I knew what purpose it served. Everything she taught me I would need when I was wed off to some noble boy, and it was my responsibility to learn those things. It didn’t feel right, though. I couldn’t even accept the fact that, one day, I would be married. It was but an ominous shadow lurking in my future.

I would have preferred ravaging the books in Didier’s room than having a conversation with my mother. Tales of heroes of old and dauntless soldiers. Military texts written by tacticians in the midst of war. Thinking about them set my heart aflutter — and made me think about my brother. He was training to be a knight. I envisioned armor flecked with rust. A longsword glimmering with the blood of savages. Soon, I found myself in my fantasies, imagining how the sword would feel in my hands. The sensation of the hilt beneath my fingers. Swinging it gallantly — like my brother. How heavy was it? How much muscle would I need to carry it? How much impact would I feel in my hands when I struck something? How restricted would my vision be wearing a helmet? How much did it weigh? How hot was it inside?

I had no way of answering any of those questions, though.



I have some cloth... if you’d like to wipe yourself off.
Oh, yeah, thanks. Uggggh, I’m so dead...
You were at it for a long time.
I’ve never known Dee to half-rear end something once he gets started. Which, I guess, is what makes him knight material, but...
Are you opposed to him becoming a knight?
Well, y’know, I’d kinda assumed he’d inherit the estate and handle takin’ care of everything.
So it’s like, why’s he gotta go and be some priest’s whipping boy? ...Don’t tell him I said that, though.
He wants to fight for the greater good.
I dunno... Despite the name, he wouldn’t be doing much fighting himself...
Anywho. Someone as passionate as him might be able to make changes for the better.
Changes?
He knows what condition the order is in. That’s why he’s joining.
Figure he wants to whip ’em into shape — melt ’em down and reforge the whole thing. Ahaha.
...
Huh... So he might be able to change things...
What? What’re you muttering about, Michelle? Hey — Whoa! Hold it!

The pain I felt in my chest when I smelled the sweat emanating from Georges’s body, when I looked at his slender but distinctly male build... I was convinced it was admiration. Did I want to become a knight too? Maybe the discomfort I felt was because I wanted to be like him? Would it all go away if he were able to change the rules and I could join the order as well?

I was positive it would.



Michelle?! H-Hold on. You can’t come barging into my room unannounced. I’m trying to change.
We need to talk.
I said stop! You’re a girl. You can’t just walk in on a man as he’s changing.
I see no reason for you to be so self-conscious.
Listen to me, Michelle —
Georges tells me you’re planning to overhaul the order.
H-He told you that?! No, I hardly have such grand aspirations.
Don’t be coy. I believe you have what it takes to do it, Didier.
Wh-What’s gotten into you? You’re unusually fiery today...
So I want to ask you a favor.
When you have enough influence in the order...
I would like you to make me a knight too.
...You what?
I’m tired of the way Mother treats me! Always saying I can’t do this or that because I’m a girl!
I want to learn how to swing a sword.
I don’t want to do embroidery! I don’t care about jewelry or fancy clothing!
M-Michelle. What’s gotten into you?
I’m so much more interested in the world you live in, Didier. So please —
Well... I’ll be. I suppose we must have let ourselves spend too much time with you.
Not you too! That’s exactly what Mother said!
First of all, Michelle, you don’t have the strength to hold a sword.
Then I’ll train until I do. And if that doesn’t work, I still have my mind.
You know good and well I could —
People are not chess pieces, Michelle.
But Didier!
But above all... you’re missing the most important point.



Didier —
This may seem normal to you, growing up with two brothers, but I want you to listen to me, Michelle.
Men and women walk different paths.
Men wield swords and fight against dangerous enemies. And they do so to protect the weak — women and children.
I am here to protect you, and your mother.
...
You’re no different than her. You don’t treat me any different than her.
Honestly, what’s gotten into you, Michelle? Why wouldn’t I treat you like a daughter of the Bollinger estate?
Your brother and I, we never meant to make you think —
Forget it.
What?
I’m sorry. I knew what I was asking was foolish.
O-Oh?
— !
But I thought you would understand how I feel!
Even just a little bit!



Even I didn’t understand the things I felt. I wanted to know what had gotten into me far more than he did. What I had done was no better than throw a temper tantrum. Was I that desperate to become a knight? No... I had just thought that the key to the chains in my heart lay down that road — but ultimately, there was nothing. Assuming Didier had agreed, and assuming I did become a knight, it wouldn’t do anything for the core problem.

As I dashed from my brother’s room, I snuck a peek at him. His face was filled with an intense perplexity. And how could I blame him? I had tried to push a dozen different ideals onto him at once. Filled myself with the vain hope that he would somehow be able to make sense of me when I couldn’t even make sense of myself. And now, bubbling with unwarranted anger at being let down, I fled to my own chambers.

I can only imagine how frustrating that must have been for him.

Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 04:28 on Oct 6, 2018

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
(Content warning - This update contains a (much less explicit than last time) depiction of attempted sexual assault.)



BGM: Springtime Tears

Heavy clouds filled the sky, blocking out the sun and giving the impression of late evening all throughout the day. I, for one, preferred it when the sun wasn’t out. Not that sunlight would kill me, but if it was bright enough, the whole world was so white I could hardly see a thing. Which meant I could only go outside on days when the weather made most everyone else gloomy.



As I was meandering through the courtyard, I spotted someone I had never seen before. A warm breeze blew past, sending up a swirl of flower petals. The girl’s dress hung lightly over her frame, tracing her gentle curves.

...Who are you?

I asked bluntly, and the girl twirled around, smiling.



Long, chestnut hair flowed over round, feminine shoulders. It swayed slightly in the wind. The cloud of melancholy dissipated in the light of her smile.

You must be Michelle. You’re just as pretty as I heard.
And you are?
My name is Aimee. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.

“Finally” meet me? What was she talking about? As I stood there, baffled by this strange woman, she stepped toward me, kissing me softly on the cheek.

I’m thrilled to make your acquaintance, Michelle.

Her voice was like someone pouring honey into my ear. Electrifyingly sweet.



And it also stuck another needle into my chest.

She was a noble girl by the name of Aimee Joubert. Though only fifteen, she was the very image of refined — polished to a shine. No one had told me my brother was to be married. It came out of nowhere, and it seemed I was the only one who didn’t know.

That evening, when the family gathered around the table for supper, Aimee was there too. And they prepared an extravagant feast for the occasion. My father Antonin looked so proud of his two boys — Didier soon to receive his assignment, and Georges soon to be wed. The banquet proceeded smoothly, not a doubt in the air that we were a happy family. But my mind was elsewhere. I found myself unconsciously chasing Aimee with my eyes. Watching the way those slender fingers gripped her spoon. Her full lips parting to allow a piece of fruit in. Her deep red tongue, visible for but the briefest of moments. The way all the muscles in her face seemed to relax in bliss as sweet juices seeped into her mouth. The way she spoke, so soft and gentle, letting each sound hang in the air just briefly before intoning the next. She was distinctly feminine — in a different way than my mother.

Apparently, Aimee was going to be living at the Bollinger estate for some time. Mother was pleased to have another girl around. Or, more specifically, she was relieved to have found someone other than my brothers for me to spend time with. I had assumed I would hate being around another girl. Surely she wouldn’t be able to play chess, after all. But for some reason, I felt much less... suffocated around her than my mother.



One night, Aimee’s family and an array of nobles from both houses’ social circles assembled at the estate for a party. A din the likes of which I had never heard in my life filled the great hall. Everywhere I looked, there were people, people, people. Servants scrambled every which way. Silverware clanged against dishes in an almost constant hum. Voices from all directions. I felt moderately ill.



And who was it who went about inviting everyone he came across again? Who are those people?
They’re artistes like me. I met them at the court. Let’s see, we have some painters, composers, sculptors, troubadours, poets, writers, you name it.
None of them have any connection to the Jouberts or Bollingers!
Sure they do. They’re my friends. And y’know, this is me and Aimee’s party!
You can play with your friends elsewhere! I hope you realize we have a reputation to uphold!

Off in one corner, several men — presumably Georges’s friends — gathered in a circle. They stood out from the other aristocrats, both in appearance and the air they gave off. The clothes they wore. The embroidery hidden beneath their jacket cuffs. Their manner of speech. The way they held themselves. They were, simply put, a far cry from the hardheaded Didier’s ideal party guests. Even watching them from afar, it was clear my two brothers ran in very different crowds. The only reason headstrong Didier and free-spirited Georges were able to get along at all was because they were brothers. If they had been strangers, I doubt their paths would cross much — and if they did, those intersections would be quite rocky.



Georges’s shouting voice pulled my preoccupied mind back to the surface. He summoned his friends, then led them to where I stood.

What are you doing hiding in the corner, Michelle? I didn’t even notice you!
Allow me to introduce you to a few of my friends.
Oh, um, no, I...

Georges put his hands on my shoulders, peeling me off the wall and standing me in front of his male friends. Socialization was the last thing on my mind. I searched for Didier, hoping he would come to my rescue, but he was off trading pleasantries, facing away from me.

This is my baby sister Michelle. Be nice.
Georges, I don’t —
Graces! Your skin is even more pale than I imagined! It’s like something out of a fairy tale. And why have you never brought her with you to the court? She’d be a sure hit!
And how old are you, now? Twelve, mayhap?
Now, now, don’t treat the lady like a child. I’ll have you know she’s fourteen.
All the more reason she should be out there makin’ friends.
The whole court’d flip if they knew you had such a gorgeous sister, Georges.
Don’t be a brute, my man. Our little angel has to be kept inside for... personal reasons.
Uh oh, sounds like I haven’t been showing the lady her due respect. I’ve yet to even properly introduce myself. How rude, indeed!
...

Their laughs grated on my nerves. And so did the way Georges spoke as though I was his property. They looked like they were appraising me, which made me sick to my stomach. I had been paying enough attention to notice the man who had asked if I was twelve — and the rest of them too — examining me from head to toe in search of curves.

I was, indeed, underdeveloped for fourteen. But what did that matter? I didn’t want a body shaped like Aimee’s or my mother’s.



The man got down on one knee before me. For a split second, I didn’t comprehend what he was doing.

Go on, Michelle. He’s waiting.

He whispered into my ear. That was when it all came back to me — the traditional greeting performed between a man and a woman.

...
C’mon, Michelle. Don’t tell me you forgot what to do.

I knew. I knew the process. I had that knowledge. Mother had taught me the rules. Shown me the procedure. I was to present my hand to the man — for him to kiss.

...

All I had to do was hold out my hand, but I was frozen. My body fought tooth and nail against the simple act. The thought of that man putting his lips on my skin sent a chill through me. Why? Why was this a traditional greeting? Why did I have to go through this?

Michelle!

But at the sound of Georges’s frantic voice, my arm creaked up from my side. Then, I remembered that despite being his friends, they were still nobility. As wanton as his social interactions may have been, he still had a reputation to maintain. And I understood that. I also understood that, as their sister, it was my responsibility not to do anything that might tarnish either of my brothers’ names. Also, by tradition, the man wasn’t supposed to actually kiss the woman’s hand. The proper way to do it required he simply mimic the act, rather than make real contact. That much I could handle.

The man kneeling before me gave an uncomfortable chuckle at my reluctance, shrugged, and reverently took my hand in his. And then —

— !



There was a vaguely warm sensation on the back of my hand for the briefest moment.

What do you — ?!

Reflexively, I smacked the man’s hand away. Georges’s eyes went wide in horror, and the man gave another playful shrug.

I was merely offering you a greeting, milady. Or is even that a new experience to you? Your innocence is truly precious.
— !

I was half a second away from throwing a barrage of insults, but I bit my tongue and stomped off instead.

Wha — Michelle?! Hey, come back! Michelle!

I had spent all that time convincing myself I couldn’t humiliate my brothers, but now, I wouldn’t hear a word of it. I had drawn a fair bit of attention, and other people tried to stop me too, but I brushed them all off, marching my way out of the great hall.



You call that a greeting? No, that was no greeting. That was...
I’ll be taking that!

I say, practically swiping a glass of water off a passing waiter’s tray. With it, I washed my hand by the window facing the courtyard. But no matter how much water I poured over it, I couldn’t erase the sickening sensation of his mouth on my hand. So I rubbed it with my sleeve until my skin was bright red. I wanted to feel something else — anything else — even pain.

Think before you act, Georges. What were you doing inviting people like that into our home?!

I was angry, and I had every right to be. He had not performed the proper greeting. Even in jest, he had no business actually putting his lips on my hand. It was not acceptable behavior for an aristocrat. He was a guest — he should have been ashamed.

...

...Was I angry that he had been disrespectful? No, that wasn’t the reason. It was —



— !

At the sound of his voice, I — couldn’t turn back. I felt a sickening warmth almost directly against my back. The man from the great hall grabbed me by the wrists, spun me around, and pressed me against the wall. The bitter scent of wine wafted from above.

What the hell are you doing?!

I tried a second time to get away from him, and that was when reality sunk in. I couldn’t do it. All the strength I could muster wasn’t enough to make the man’s hand budge. My arms were locked in place. I didn’t think he was especially strong, either. He was hardly built like Didier. And still, I couldn’t move an inch.

You’ve got a tongue like a boy, milady. But I know some people’re fond o’ that these days. Can’t say I mind, m’self.
Let go!

Had I always been this feeble? Were my arms truly so worthless I couldn’t even escape this brute’s grip? Why did I have to get stuck with this body?

Now, just so we’re clear, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m no monster — I promise you that.
Then why are you holding me against the wall?!
Because I want a chance to try and woo you. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable back there, but the second I laid eyes on you, I knew you were a keeper.
Then let go of me!
But if I do that, you’ll run away. And it’s my personal rule to never let go of anything I like.
Your brother says you can’t go outside, so if I set you loose now, I might never get a chance to catch you again.

I wanted to vomit. Apparently taking my silence for approval, the man perked up and kept going.



Besides, I’m a minstrel. Spend some time with me, and I’ll write you all the songs you could possibly want.
G-Get away from me...
Ahh, you really do have the most striking eyes. Makes me wanna keep ’em all for m’self.
With a muse like that, I could write the most incredible songs you’ve ever heard.
I said get back, you creep!
Huh... That’s odd. That one’s never failed me.

The man brought his face in just inches from mine and peered into my eyes. I could feel his hot, wine-stenched breath against my cheeks. It gave me the chills. I couldn’t understand why this was happening to me. Panic and confusion had my heart racing.

Go try your luck with someone else! I’m not interested!
You will be soon enough, darling. You’ve simply never known a man’s touch.

He drew closer. He was already practically on top of me, but still he closed in. Closer and closer. The world faded out. I couldn’t see anything. I could feel his rising body heat so near it made me nauseous.

My eyes flung open, but there was nothing there. I only felt — I could only feel —



I couldn’t move. My body wouldn’t budge. In my mind, I kicked the man away. Pulled my fist back and slammed it into his jaw. Again and again and again, until his face was unrecognizable. Again and again and again and again I beat him. But reality would have none of that.



Three seconds? Ten seconds? Longer? I had no idea how much time I had lost. But the next thing I knew, Georges had the man by the collar. I fell back against the wall, staring absentmindedly as the two struggled. They traded blows and they traded insults. Before long, they had drawn a crowd.

While they went at it, I distractedly drifted away. And I only had one place to go. I didn’t even bother to light a candle. I just stared into the darkness. My heartbeat was maddeningly loud in my otherwise silent chambers.

What had happened? What had he done to me? Why — Why couldn’t I do anything?



The last thing I wanted to do was cry. Tears would only serve to worsen my humiliation. Only magnify how wretched I was. Only make me more effete.

Ggh...!

I bit down on my lip, hard. I had no need for that trash on my body. I dug my nails into my arms. I had no need for that trash on my body. All of this. Every last bit of it. That was why I was the way I was. I didn’t know how to put it into words. I didn’t know how to express this boundless frustration within me. But after enough wordless groaning, a single word slipped from my lips — and it felt incredibly right.



I knew good and well a girl should not be using such words. Even Didier and Georges would have gotten an earful from Mother or Father if they were caught saying that. Regardless —

God...dammit!

— it was the most fitting word I could come up with to represent even the smallest bit of my anger and loathing. I knew all I was doing was shifting the blame. That all it would accomplish was making me look pitiful. But I would take that over crying like a girl any day.

Nnh... haaah!

I let loose a sigh that was halfway to being a scream, then started clawing wildly at my hair. I wanted to yank out every last drat strand of it. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want any of it. Any of this body.

But in that case... what did I want from my body?

Quinn2win fucked around with this message at 01:35 on Oct 9, 2018

Leraika
Jun 14, 2015

Luckily, I *did* save your old avatar. Fucked around and found out indeed.
:smith:

mycelia
Apr 28, 2013

POWERFUL FUNGAL LORD



It was weird playing this for myself and realising, oh, this is what people mean when they talk about how important representation is for them. Michel's inner monologue here is so real and so raw, reading it was cathartic.

Good thing everything from here is wonderful and nothing is terrible and bad!

ultrafilter
Aug 23, 2007

It's okay if you have any questions.


ProfessorProf posted:

Oh, um, no, I...

I don't think that's the right picture.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

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


I don't know why the forums are doing this to my new comments, but it's going to make the next update difficult to post.

POOL IS CLOSED
Jul 14, 2011

I'm just exploding with mackerel. This is the aji wo kutta of my discontent.
Pillbug
Server side character encoding issue mainly affecting smart quotes and other smart characters. If you're using Word to write updates, turn off smart characters and replace the quotation marks with the normal type.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
Emdashes too, apparently. I'll try to get this thing up in a bit.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

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


...

It was Georges's voice, slightly muffled through the door. The man who had invited those people into this house. I would be lying if I said I didn't hold that against him.

Michelle...

But at the same time, he had also come to my rescue. Besides, I hated myself the most. I despised myself for being so helpless.

I'm sorry, Michelle... I didn't mean to hurt you...

It's not locked.

After a few moments of silence, Georges stepped into my room.



That was when I first noticed the stinging sensation in my lower lip. A metallic taste spread through my mouth. I had been biting it much harder than I realized. And there was a lot more blood than I expected. A trail of it was running down my chin, seconds from spilling onto my clothes when Georges wiped it away.

I'm really sorry, Michelle. He can be a real rear end when he drinks...
...
And he's a bit of a womanizer at that. I never expected he'd try to go after you, though. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen...
A-Ah, but, y'know, there's a chance he may have, um, genuinely taken a liking to you -
That just makes it worse!
- ! S-Sorry. Y-You're right. You want to be with a man you like, I understand.

He ran his hands through my hair, as if trying to calm me down - at the same time cleaning up the mess I had made of it. It made me feel like I was some kind of plaything. A joke of a doll.

I don't...
...Huh?
I don't want to be with anyone.

I would never, ever be comfortable with a man putting his hands on me like that. However -

...I'm sure you'll find someone eventually, Michelle. Someone that feels right for you.
I feel kind of awful for introducing you to him, but...
but there are plenty of men in the world. You might not be interested now, but that'll change soon. It's part of growing up.
You'd be best off forgetting today ever happened.



The very idea that I might one day meet a man who I wanted to touch me made my skin crawl. Why? Why did I feel like this? Was I just not interested in men? No, if that were the case, I wouldn't admire my brothers' bodies. I didn't have an aversion to men. In fact, I enjoyed spending time with my brothers far more than indulging my mother and her woman's world. What I couldn't stand was the particular look men would sometimes give me.

But why? Why did I not like that? I had no answer. My thoughts were only going in circles.

Are you okay, Michelle?

He peered down at me, his face twisted in concern. But I couldn't answer him. How was I supposed to articulate this? My anger. My frustration. My irritation. My fear. I had no confidence he would understand.



Aimee's voice came from the doorway. Inexplicably, I felt like someone had stuck their hand in my chest and was now squeezing my heart. Like I had just been caught in a compromising situation by the last person I wanted to see me.

Ah, yeah. She's doing good. ...Aren't you?
Yes... I'm fine.
Glad to hear it!

I was clearly lying, not even looking him in the eyes when I'd said that, but that seemed to have gone over Georges's head. Aimee, on the other hand...

You don't look fine at all.

She said, a hint of pain in her voice, and then entered the room.



You should get going. I'll stay here with her.
Oh, is he? All right, then. Sounds good.

Once the sound of Georges's footsteps had faded into nothing, Aimee took a seat beside me and, without warning, wrapped her arms around my shoulders.



...

My heart leapt into my throat. But beyond the shock, I also found myself welcoming the warmth. It was pleasant, unlike the man's.

That must have been terrifying. But don't worry. You're safe now.
It... wasn't really, no...
No need to pretend, sweetie. If a man had me pinned against a wall, I'd be scared too.
...
I mean it... I wasn't scared... I'm just... disappointed in myself.
...All right, I believe you. You're a strong girl, Michelle. There aren't many who wouldn't have been scared.
...
I'll be sure to give Georges a stern talking-to about his choice in friends. Something I learned today is that he's somewhat of a pushover, hehe.
...You're a lot more... tenacious than I thought.
As a woman in this world, you have to be. And if you're not, well... you'll figure it out soon enough, Michelle.
Of course, even as strong as you are, I'm sure it'll still be difficult to forget what happened to you today...

Georges had told me to forget it as soon as possible, and Aimee that I wouldn't be able to. Was it the difference in their individual perspectives, or was it the difference between the way men and women thought? I wasn't sure. As my head rested against her breast, a bit of my frustration slipped out.



I couldn't believe... that I was really so weak...
That's just... the way of the world, Michelle.
Men are physically stronger than women, so you'll almost never overpower one. You're not any weaker than a normal girl.
Don't blame yourself.
...

Though it wasn't the consolation I had hoped for, her words still filled me with warmth. I had exploited my own weakness to hear more of that soothing voice. And I alone knew... how foolish I was in doing so.



BGM: Face like a Mask

I didn't know if it was at Mother's request or of her own volition, but I prayed it was the latter. She was a very touchy-feely person, and she seemed to have a particular fondness for playing with my hair. Whenever her voice danced its way into my ears, it would wreak havoc inside me. Being enveloped in her scent day after day... stoked the fire growing within me.

I did my best to remain as straight-faced as possible, because the last thing I wanted was her catching on. I understood that the things I was feeling... were untoward, to say the least.



...I think having color is much prettier.
Oh? Well, Georges says white is the most difficult color to make with paint.
There's no greater challenge than capturing the beauty of true white.
Living with such a splendid example of the color must have given him a very high standard of quality.
...
Say, Michelle, maybe you could tell me about yourself today. I would love to get to know you better.
Tell you... about myself?
Yeah. We could become even better friends if we found some mutual interests.
I enjoy playing chess... and I consider myself quite good.
Oh my, chess? I've never played. You're such a bright girl, Michelle.
...Would you like to try? I could teach you...
I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll pass. I doubt I would be any good.
...Oh, okay.
What else is there? Say... your favorite kind of flower, fragrance, color of gemstone... Are there any embroidery patterns you're particularly skilled at?
I don't have any favorites, no... and I'm not especially good with a needle either.
No? Do you have shaky hands, then?
...I wouldn't say that, no. I'm, uh, fairly good with a knife, I think.
A knife? Oh, like a kitchen knife?
No... a sculpting knife...
...Sculpting?
Is that really so strange?
Hmm. It is a bit unusual, I'd say.
But Georges does it all the time. His room is practically made of woodchips and charcoal and paint.



...Why is it okay for him, but not me? Does being a girl really make that much of a difference?
Well, um...
...
Why don't we practice embroidery together, Michelle? I get the feeling you've spent too much time with your brothers.
But now, you have me. I'm sure it won't be long before you appreciate how much fun cooking and needlework can be.
...
(She sounds just like Mother...)
(And she gives the same reason too. Because I'm a girl. But that's not an explanation. It's a vague generalization.)
(That said, if I agree... I can spend more time with her...)
...Okay.
Wonderful. We'll come up with beautiful designs together. And when you've made something you're proud of, you can give it to a boy who catches your eye.
Or, if you'd prefer, you could give it to your father or brother. I would like Georges to have what I make, though...
...
Oh, I've been wondering... Did you and Georges meet at the royal court?
Oh, heavens no. I've never been to the court.
One day, my father told me I was getting married,
and the next day is when we first met.
It... happened that quickly?
What, are you worried about me, Michelle? Hehe... Don't worry. I'm not displeased with the arrangement.
In fact, I'm quite happy with it. Aristocratic marriages are almost always sudden.
And as a woman... you get used to being a piece in their games.
But Georges, he's different. He's a gentleman -
A gentleman? Him?
You sound surprised.
I believe “hedonist” suits him better...
Oh, I quite disagree. I have complete faith he'll do good by me.
...



Especially a man she had only just met. How could she trust him at all? She was nothing but a pawn, and she knew it. So maybe she was simply putting on an act. I had trouble believing her smile was anything but genuine, though.

One day, you'll meet the right man for you, Michelle. And he won't be a drunk like the guy from earlier. He'll be a kind, hardworking, respectable man.
I... would rather not find anyone...
Ahaha... I suppose this is all still too soon for you, huh.
...
Say, how old are you, Michelle?
Fourteen.
Oh, wow. I assumed you were younger.
Do I... really look that young?
Hehe. No hard feelings. You're just like a tiny little doll. So small and slender,
and look, not one bit of meat up here at all!
H-Hey!

She playfully grabbed me from behind - and started prodding at my chest.



Every heavy thump of my heart felt sinful. She couldn't know. I couldn't let her. Everything I had been fighting to keep down came hurtling to the surface.

You're so cold, you know that?

She was touching me like it was nothing. Caressing my hair. Was she this intimate with Georges? Or was it because I was a younger girl that she was so keen on putting her hands all over me?

Before I understood what I was feeling, my body acted. It was pure, unfiltered impulse.

- !

In my attempt to escape from her grip, I twisted around, only to find my face inches from Aimee's. Slowly gravitating closer, I pressed my lips against the corner of her mouth.



...

Aimee sat there, flabbergasted. I was equally aghast.

I-I'm sorry.

As I frantically put some distance between us, I'm sure my face was red as an apple - though I didn't know it at the time.

W-Well, that was certainly unexpected! I'm sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable touching you so much?

Aimee was smiling, though it looked forced.

N-No, not at all...
Then I must have startled you.
I'm sorry. If I had let you go sooner, we could have avoided this accident...
What do you mean... accident?
A kiss on the lips is -
It wasn't an accident.
...
It wasn't, Aimee... I -
I seem to have confused you somewhat, Michelle.
What...?
I know I can be very... touchy-feely with you. And you took that to mean you should do the same.
No...
You can't do that again, all right? If you want to kiss your friends, you do it on the cheek. Save the lips for... the man you love.
...
I should get going then. Georges starts getting cranky if I don't give him enough attention.
H-Hold on, Aimee - !
So long, Michelle.
...



Once Aimee had fled my chambers... that was when I finally comprehended my own emotions. That she had stolen my heart. But Aimee was Georges's fiancée... No, that wasn't the problem.

I -
my body -
was not meant for her love.



...

I awoke in the middle of the night to pain in my joints.

Not enough exercise, I guess...

I tried bending and stretching my arms and legs, but it did nothing. So after pondering on it for a bit, I decided to go for a late-night walk to distract myself.

...?

As I approached the corridor adjacent to the courtyard, I heard a woman's voice.



Aimee's voice. Doing my best to remain perfectly quiet, I pressed myself up against the wall by the window and listened in on their conversation. I knew it was improper to eavesdrop, but the sound of her voice had me frozen in place.

It's Michelle... I'm afraid I've... confused her.

A tiny jolt ran down my spine, my muscles all tensing up at once. The sound of my name rising to her lips - but not in the way I would have liked.

She kissed me. Well, almost, but... how could I have guessed she thought of me that way?
Mother told me she didn't have any female friends...
and asked me to be one for her, which is why...

So she had only been coming to see me because Mother had asked her to... I had been afraid of that. Afraid that she wasn't there... to be with me. That she had no fondness for me. That my yearning for her... was one-sided.

She kind of scares me... the way she looks at me. Always watching every little move I make...
I'm sensitive to that sort of thing. I can tell what's going through Michelle's mind.
I managed to deflect it this time, but...
I should have never gotten friendly with her.

She had seen through me from day one - understood what I was feeling before even I had.



(Homo...sexuality?)
(Did I... hear her right?)

Something inside me crumbled. And with it came an intense sense of wrongness. There it was again. That overpowering discomfort. That fear coursing through my veins. That repulsion. That irritation. That apprehension.

What on earth... was I? Did I view Aimee as a member of the same sex? Were the things I felt... homosexual?

I heard Aimee sigh from beyond the window. Then, the man beside her, who she was confiding all this in, replied:

She's still just a child.

That voice -

And one with underdeveloped social skills, besides. Understand that she's going to do and say some inappropriate things.
It's not uncommon for a child to mistake admiration for love. And I didn't know this until recently, but when she gets something into her head, she has a tendency to run with it without thinking.

- was not the man's I had assumed it was.



Why -

It's not very often there are women other than Mother at the estate.
I imagine she simply got nervous being around you and something got mixed up in her head.

Why was Didier out there with her?

I hope that's all it was...

Aimee... hadn't you told me... you thought Georges was a gentleman? So what were you doing... getting so friendly with Didier? And Didier... weren't you my ally? Or was that all an act, like her?

You were going to be a knight... so why were you out here with your brother's fiancée?

I'm glad to have you here, so I hope you can figure something out to make it work.
I'll do what I can... but...
and I'm kind of reluctant to say this to you...
but something has to change. As it is... she kind of grosses me out.

...



So what, I was some kind of sick, disgusting creature? All I had done was show feelings for her. I couldn't be Georges or Didier.

Ngh!

The needles piercing me expanded. Both in size and number. Soon, I was being skewered by a dozen of them. And the heated sighs rising from the courtyard only served to make the pain worse. All I could do... was cover my ears and run.



Wh-What were you doing out there... Didier?!
How am I gross, Aimee?!
Ngh... it's not real... It's all a bunch of lies!
This entire house... is nothing but a fraud!
...!
(None of it was ever real! The family gatherings... Aimee's smiles!)
(Didier's kindness...)
(Georges... What about Georges?)
(Did he agree to the marriage knowing about them?)
(What the hell are they thinking?!)
You want to know who's really disgusting?!
Ngh... nnnmh... Goddammit!
I will not cry...
I will NOT cry!
I can't let myself...
(Girls cry... Tears are for girls...)
(Not for me...)
...



Squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could manage. Tried to get away from the things I had seen. Images of them embracing in the night threatened to float back to the surface, but I shook my head, casting them off. Praying I wouldn't have any nightmares, I drifted off to sleep.

Skylight
Nov 25, 2011

DIE TO THE DEATH!
SENTANCE TO DEATH!
GREAT EQUALIZER IS THE DEATH!


Ah yes, Aimee. I really, really want to punch her. Even if she's just regurgitating a viewpoint re: sexuality, she's still a cheater. Georges may be a dope, but he deserves better.

Michel deserves better, too, but we already know that. :smith:

e: Didier also deserves to be slapped. Seriously, that's your brother's fiancee...

Skylight fucked around with this message at 04:11 on Oct 12, 2018

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

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


BGM: The Bollinger House

I hovered in a sweltering wave of heat, unable to tell dream and reality apart, listening to a seemingly endless stream of cracking noises. The sounds were coming from inside my body. I thought I was falling apart.

Mother was horribly worried. I had never been the most healthy child, but I had never fallen this ill either. I couldn’t get out of bed. My voice was raspy, like an old woman’s. I was genuinely afraid I would wither away and die. Mother called in doctor after doctor to see me, but they all said it was the flu. That bodily pain was common with a fever. While there was a doctor in the house, Mother was able to remain relatively calm, but once they were gone, the anxiety came back. She stayed with me, day and night, even foregoing sleep.

Her hands gripped mine. They held me fast. She had her head bowed, as if in prayer.



You are His child... You are His angel sent to Earth...
He will not forsake you... The doctors say it’s just the flu...

Though her words seemed to be directed at me, there was a vacantness in her voice, as if they were really for herself. For so long, she had wanted a daughter. I couldn’t understand her fixation, but seeing her there through my cloudy eyes, I wanted to apologize for ever thinking spending time with her was agonizing.

How are you feeling? Your mother’s here for you. Don’t worry.

But the only sound that came from my mouth was a faint gasp.

I drifted in and out of sleep, Mother’s hand wrapped around my own. And I had numerous dreams.



In my dreams, I was Didier and I was Georges.
In my dreams, I fell in love with Aimee, and in my dreams, I loved her.



But with one word, the dreams twisted into nightmares. My body was torn into fleshy chunks, and I sunk into the darkness.



...?
Ah... aah...?

Several days later, my fever was gone — like it had never been there. However —

...Ggh!
Wh... What the...?

— my voice did not recover —

...!

— and when I attempted to climb from my bed, the murderous pain in my joints came rushing back. Instead of my feet, I landed on my face.

Haaaaaahh!

My voice was unbelievably deep —

Ggh... rgh!

— and the pain only got worse.

Every time I took a breath, it felt like someone hammering a spike into the back of my neck. It felt like my body was falling apart. Like my dreams were becoming reality.



When Mother scrambled into my chambers, I remembered the time she had spent at my bedside, and a wave of relief came over me. I reached my hand out, in a show of vulnerability, but she didn’t take it. She couldn’t take it.

M — Mother —
Wha —
What’s wrong with your voice... Michelle?
...
A-Ahh, I see... You’re still not feeling well, are you, Michelle...?

A look of restrained fear on her face, Mother stepped toward me, placing her hand on my forehead. Her palm felt hot against my skin.

You don’t have a fever...
But I hurt all over...
...
My joints...
...
Y-You’re still sick, Michelle, but don’t worry, you’ll be fine in no time.
Now, back to bed with you.
Y-You’re a girl... You’re a girl, so you shouldn’t be sitting on the floor... It’s bad for your back...
...



Was I really sick? Was this actually my voice now? And if it was... what was I turning into? My voice... was certainly not a girl’s voice.

My voice never went back to normal, though, so Mother ordered me to remain in my room. I hadn’t “recovered yet.” And so long as I was sick, I couldn’t be let out. Again, something felt wrong about her calling it a sickness, but I had no evidence to the contrary. I had no way to know I wouldn’t get others sick if I exposed them, as she claimed, so I had no choice but to do as she said.

In time, Mother too stopped visiting me, and the only people I saw were servants. They did their jobs, but refused to look me in the eye. No one else came to see me, though. Not Aimee, Didier, or Georges...



Occasionally, the pain in my joints would withdraw. At other times, it would worsen. Whenever I would drift off to sleep, I would hear the sound of my own joints creaking. I would dream of a woman standing in the courtyard, her soft, chestnut hair fluttering in the wind as she twirled to face me, a smile on her face and her breasts exposed.

One day, after around six months of servants refusing to make eye contact, I stopped one and made a request: to have a mirror brought to my room. While he didn’t acknowledge me, the next day, I had my mirror. By that point, I was fairly certain I knew what was happening to my body. I had no clothes to wear — because none of the multicolored dresses hanging in my wardrobe fit me anymore.

...

Pulling the heavy red cloth covering the mirror aside, my completely naked body came into view.

...Hah...

Something resembling a mix of a chuckle and a sigh of pity spilled from my lips.



Six months. After only six months’ time, I could hardly recognize myself. Extending my hand for the mirror, I traced the outline of my bony reflection. My shoulders lacked Mother’s curves, and my skin Aimee’s sheen. I was pale and haggard. But structurally, I looked like my brothers.

Obviously, being younger than them and not as active, my muscles lacked any kind of strength, but I wouldn’t have batted an eye if I saw myself holding a sword. I was a full head taller than I had been six months earlier, and I felt an odd certainty that I wasn’t done growing either. Staring at myself in the mirror, I traced my name across the surface.

Michelle.

Don’t need the last two...



BGM: Venomous Angel



For the first time in my life, I liked my name. I still didn’t think an angel’s name suited me one bit, but it was staggering how different it felt now, even if it sounded exactly the same. Those last two letters changed the meaning entirely. Turning it from a girl’s name — to a boy’s name.

This... now this makes sense...

Everything was falling into place. My admiration for Didier. The envy I had for my brothers’ bodies. The feelings I had for Aimee. The indecent dreams I’d been having.

I...



Pffft... hah...
Hah, haha... hahahaha!
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

I cackled like a fool for the first time in my life. I laughed so hard at the sight of myself my stomach hurt. It was the first glimmer of light I had seen in this locked room for far too long. This was what I was supposed to look like. My life up until six months ago, constricted and uncomfortable — my life as a girl — was all a lie.

Aaaaaaaahahahahahahahahahaha!

No one could possibly look at me and call me an angel.

Hahahahahahahahahaha!

I was always a boy, but I had been told I was a girl — forced to act like one. Of course that wouldn’t feel right.

Hahahaha... haha!

They needed to know... I couldn’t be the only one who understood — everyone in this house needed to.

Hah... hah!

Fueled by this one desire, I wrapped a sheet over my shoulders and threw open my door.



And now, I felt fantastic. If there truly was a God in Heaven, then this, this change within me was His answer to my prayers.

...

A manservant carrying a tray of food did a double-take as I passed him. The farther I proceeded through the corridors, the more eyes I felt on me.

The midday sun shone obnoxiously bright through the windows. But now, with its piercing radiation illuminating my proper self, I felt an odd affection for the light. I could hear the family gathered in the great hall — everyone but me. Didier’s voice complained about the simple meals the Church provided, but his pride came through in his laughter. Georges’s voice playfully bragged about life at the royal court. Father’s voice informed everyone his investments had borne fruit, and with the money, he had purchased several new estates. Mother’s voice was distinctly less bright than the rest of the family’s. She gave vague, empty indications she was listening, though mostly stayed out of the conversation. Aimee’s voice sang her praises for Georges, her beloved husband. Never mind the fact she was sleeping with Didier.

It was all a façade. A mere shadow of a family.



I was there. I was right there. I hadn’t gone anywhere. You had just locked me in my room.

I hope she recovers soon...

I was never sick at all. The child you called “Michelle” was actually your son. That was all there was to it.

...
...Huh?
...?!
Wha...

Everyone’s gazes concentrated on me. I gave them all a quick glance, and then, with my deepened voice, I said,



Who — Who are you?
Surely you haven’t forgotten my face, have you,
Father?
— ?!
M-Mich...elle...?
Michelle?!
This boy is Michelle?!

A wave of chatter spread through the hall. Mother went pale. Father objected. Didier stared. Georges gaped. Aimee watched cautiously, fear in her eyes. What a farce. They were the ones who had wrongly decided I was a girl.



You were dressing your son up like a girl, Mother?!
I... I assumed he was a girl... Otherwise I wouldn’t have...
put my hands on him like that...
You lied to me! I would have never agreed to it had I known!
N-No, you’re wrong! She’s... Michelle is my daughter!
You call that a girl?!
All these months, I was worried because you said he was sick... But that was all a lie...
You couldn’t pass him off as a girl anymore, so you locked him up in his room! Is that what this is?!
And you, you could have just stayed there... What possessed you to show yourself now?!
...
Stop that! Don’t look at me! Don’t give me that look!
You said you can tell what’s going through my mind, didn’t you?
Wha —
Then you should know exactly how I feel about you right now.
Don’t be so damned full of yourself. I have no interest in a whore like you.



— !
Y-You — !
Wha? What? Huh? What are you talking about? Why Didier? Why not me? What?
Hey! Anyone want to explain that for me?!

What had once been a nice “family” meal was now utter chaos. For the briefest moment, I felt sorry for Georges, but that wisped away almost immediately. There was a crash! from the table, and dishes fell, shattering against the floor.



A chilling darkness oozed from her voice.

She’s cursed...
She was my daughter... I saw it with my own eyes...
I gave birth to her! She was a girl! Michelle was a girl!
A malevolent curse has been placed on her!

When Mother lifted her head, I had difficulty believing that was the same woman who had sat by my bedside as I lay sick, sacrificing sleep to care for me. Her hair was a frazzled mess and deep creases covered her face.

Restrain her! Throw her in her room and lock the door!
She’s a girl! A girl! She was a girl, I swear it!
— !
Open your eyes! Do I sound like a girl?!
Do I look anything like a girl?!

Mother’s cries sent me into a frenzy. I ripped the sheet off my shoulders, throwing it to the floor —



— and shouted.

Eek!
A-Aah, aaaaaahh... R-Restrain her... Please, someone restrain her!

Fear reigned in the great hall. But then, several moments of icy silence were broken by a muttering that shocked me as much as anyone else.



What... What on earth are you?!



“You’re not a boy.”
“You’re an abomination.”

I’m... what?

I had seen myself in the mirror. I was undoubtedly male. Lacking in strength though they may have been, I had visible muscles. My chest was flat, and I was taller than a girl should be. My voice was deep, and I had an obvious lump in the middle of my throat. I was male. I had to be male. What else could I be? So why... Why was Aimee looking at me like some kind of strange creature?

A chill ran down my spine, and I suddenly found myself deeply uncomfortable being so exposed.

There’s nothing there...
You’ve got nothing there!

...Nothing... there? I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Unable to press further, I fell silent, at which point several servants burst into the great hall and restrained me.

She’s a girl... She’s my daughter...

Mother, seemingly in a mad daze, just repeated the same thing over and over.



As Mother wailed, she wandered off somewhere. Father stood there in silence. Aimee stared at me with disgust in her eyes. Georges was still in a panic, and Didier clenched his fists. Eventually, I started regaining my composure, which is when I realized I had made a mistake.

My sickness... had been made into a curse.

HerpicleOmnicron5
May 31, 2013

How did this smug dummkopf ever make general?


wait

did they never see a dong during their life as michelle

did georges never sculpt or paint dongs

goddamn :(

Skylight
Nov 25, 2011

DIE TO THE DEATH!
SENTANCE TO DEATH!
GREAT EQUALIZER IS THE DEATH!


HerpicleOmnicron5 posted:

wait

did they never see a dong during their life as michelle

did georges never sculpt or paint dongs

goddamn :(

He probably didn't do anything like that where Michelle could see it, no. "Delicate female sensibilities" and all that bullshit. :(

Robindaybird
Aug 21, 2007

Neat. Sweet. Petite.

Skylight posted:

He probably didn't do anything like that where Michelle could see it, no. "Delicate female sensibilities" and all that bullshit. :(

yeah - it gets dumb, though it's much later than Michel's time period, ancient statues did get covered with plaster of paris fig leaves to protect women's eyes, if not outright chiselled off.

TheGreatEvilKing
Mar 28, 2016





I'm totally confused now.

So Michel is intersex? And has distinctive genitals that don't match either gender? But no one noticed male-ish protrusions?

Toalpaz
Mar 20, 2012

Peace through overwhelming determination
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooof.

Music is good.

Michel is most likely intersex and family called him a girl cause of it. He hit puberty and got a healthy dose of testosterone but they're freaked out cause his genitals don't match what they thought was right.

coolusername
Aug 23, 2011

cooltitletext

TheGreatEvilKing posted:

I'm totally confused now.

So Michel is intersex? And has distinctive genitals that don't match either gender? But no one noticed male-ish protrusions?

I think Michel is intersex, puberty kicked in and he had a masculine growth spurt but the junk remained the same. So male in body and mind but feminine in the pants.

ultrafilter
Aug 23, 2007

It's okay if you have any questions.


There's a condition that's surprisingly common in part of the Dominican Republic where male children are born with no obvious male genitalia but grow a set at puberty due to the testosterone flood. That could be what Michel has, if the writers are going for accuracy.

Robindaybird posted:

yeah - it gets dumb, though it's much later than Michel's time period, ancient statues did get covered with plaster of paris fig leaves to protect women's eyes, if not outright chiselled off.

On the other hand, unless the writers are much better with medicine than they are with history, anything particularly realistic might be a bit much to hope for.

Lord Zedd-Repulsa
Jul 21, 2007

Devour a good book.


I was going to post about that condition too, ultrafilter! I know accuracy isn't completely what this game's going for but it's still really interesting to me that this part, of all things, has a real world counterpart.

Like Clockwork
Feb 17, 2012

It's only the Final Battle once all the players are ready.

I interpreted it as an autoimmune reaction from the flu because of the repeated mention of joint pain, since that does rarely happen and ovarian damage can cause birds at least to develop stereotypically male traits (surprising number of hens with iridescent hackles and long spurs after getting sick or surviving, like, fox attacks). I don't know enough about medicine to know how it'd affect an actual person or if an autoimmune disorder caused by the flu could even hit reproductive organs in that short a time, but it at least sounds plausible in my head.

It's probably intended to be that Michel is intersex, though.

Lord Zedd-Repulsa
Jul 21, 2007

Devour a good book.


I took the joint pain as growing pains related to onset of puberty because I remember all too well what that felt like.

PetraCore
Jul 20, 2017

👁️🔥👁️👁️👁️BE NOT👄AFRAID👁️👁️👁️🔥👁️

I know there are intersex conditions where the genitalia never develops properly and is left as a pseudovagina but the person is genetically male, but I'm not sure if you'd still get enough testosterone production to get such a dramatic male puberty. Then again, there's a 6 month time gap and Michel's second portrait is no doubt idealized to some extent, since it's not like he'd have much actual muscle after being locked in his room for 6 months, but puberty would still give him more definition and a different distribution than he had before.

Usually if you're XY but completely androgen insensitive, you'll also develop feminine secondary sexual characteristics, which is explicitly something that never happened to Michel. There are degrees of androgen insensitivity, though, so it seems possible that Michel could end up resembling a girl at birth but having a puberty that's masculine enough to shock people, especially because he completely and totally just rolls with it. In the end, there are enough intersex conditions that have been identified that the specific scenario Michel is in isn't pinging me as impossible.

Alopex
May 31, 2012

This is the sleeve I have chosen.
You can tell Michel is a man because he tries to make time with an unavailable woman and then calls her a whore in front of god and everyone for having a private conversation with someone else. Everyone in this family is an rear end in a top hat, and so is everyone in this game except Giselle and Pauline. I'm still happy for him even if he's going to get shut up in a forbidden mansion for ten years. Possibly because he's going to get shut up in a forbidden witch mansion for ten years, that family is awful.

Toalpaz
Mar 20, 2012

Peace through overwhelming determination

Alopex posted:

You can tell Michel is a man because he tries to make time with an unavailable woman and then calls her a whore in front of god and everyone for having a private conversation with someone else. Everyone in this family is an rear end in a top hat, and so is everyone in this game except Giselle and Pauline. I'm still happy for him even if he's going to get shut up in a forbidden mansion for ten years. Possibly because he's going to get shut up in a forbidden witch mansion for ten years, that family is awful.

I don't think Michel should be calling any one a whore first of all.

Second of all, they weren't just having a conversation.

Cyouni
Sep 30, 2014

without love it cannot be seen

Robindaybird posted:

yeah - it gets dumb, though it's much later than Michel's time period, ancient statues did get covered with plaster of paris fig leaves to protect women's eyes, if not outright chiselled off.

I ended up doing a quick skim for paintings in that country in that time period, and found few-to-no dongs on public display. Sculptures were the same way. A fair amount of the ones I saw ended up being religious iconography, which does play a part.

witchcore ricepunk
Jul 6, 2003

The Golden Witch
Who Solved the Epitaph


A Probability of 1/2,578,917

Cyouni posted:

I ended up doing a quick skim for paintings in that country in that time period, and found few-to-no dongs on public display. Sculptures were the same way. A fair amount of the ones I saw ended up being religious iconography, which does play a part.

Thank you for your service

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

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


BGM: Necto Nédio

In addition to the door being locked from the outside, the windows were boarded over so no one could see in, leaving me in perpetual darkness. I received no visitors except the servants — and again, none of them would look me in the eye.

Every day was the same. Day in and day out, day in and day out. The only time the routine changed was when, on occasion, a servant would arrive bearing a letter. It was my mother’s handwriting on the parchment. We lived in the same house, yet she refused to show herself before me. I had no choice but to respond to her letters.



There was a constant sense of urgency to her letters — like she might fall apart completely at any second. And so I did as she said. I signed each letter “Michelle” — the female name she bestowed upon me at birth, which I so despised. Every time I used that name, I felt like I was denying my own identity. On paper, she expressed her concern for me, but that concern only served to cause me more pain, so every time I took up my quill, my hands trembled.

Mother... prayed daily that my curse might one day be broken.



Was it not... because I was male?
“There’s nothing there”...
What did she mean by that...?
Why did she look at me the way she did?
How am I... an abomination?
Why? I don’t understand... Someone, anyone... Please tell me!
Someone! Please!



...
I will be back shortly to retrieve your dishes...
...
I’ll be going then...
...Wait...
...What?
Wait a minute...
Y-Yes? What do you need, Michelle?



...Pardon?
Which are you?
I am... exactly what I appear to be.
...Which are you?
...I am a man...
...
If that is all... I will be going now...
...Clothes... off...
What?



Wha — Surely you jest, Michelle...
I am very serious.
I-I... I could not possibly — !
Why not?
I-I could not... expose myself!
...I ordered you to take off your clothes.
You mean to humiliate me?! I beg you, please reconsider — !
What are you?! You’re a servant of the Bollinger estate!
...!
And what am I?! I am... a child of the Bollinger family!
...
I may be locked up... imprisoned in this room, but that doesn’t make you any less my servant!
...
Am I wrong?!
U-Um...
Clothes off.
Michelle!
I... I ordered you take your clothes off!
...
Ngh...

Not even the tiniest sliver of guilt arose in my conscience. I felt no shame in what I was doing. All that mattered to me was figuring out what Aimee had meant. I wanted to find the truth, not knowing I would have been better off in the dark.

...
...

His face twisted in humiliation, the servant undressed before me. In the dim candlelight, the man’s body was shaped almost like a rectangle, and at a glance, he didn’t appear much different than me.



Why...?

My lower body lacked the part... that made a man a man.

A-Are you satisfied, Michelle...?

It was then that I finally learned... what a man’s body was supposed to look like.

...
I’m begging you, please allow me to dress... It would be an unbearable shame to remain unclothed any longer...
before the young Bollinger daughter...
Daughter...?
...
You still insist on calling me a damned girl? Look at these shoulders. My chest. Listen to my voice.
How can you possibly think any of that belongs to a girl?
B-But how you appear d-does not —

There was a distinct look of fear in the manservant’s eyes. Not out of respect for our difference in rank, but out of disgust for this incomprehensible thing standing there before him. Those trembling eyes and the reality dangling there before me blew the lid once more off everything I had been holding back.



Wha...?
Everything else... Everything else is all the same... So why... why does it make such a difference...
that you have one and I don’t?!
M-Michelle...?
I — I am a man! I’m a man, just like you!
I am no one’s daughter!
Nnh!
And if you still insist we’re not the same... then I’ll make you like me!
Aah — ?!
Without that, you’re no different than me!

It was a mix of dread and panic that pushed me over the edge. And so, in order to keep myself afloat, I decided to bring another pain.

P-Please don’t do this, Michelle!
— !

In a blind frenzy — hardly even aware of what I was doing, just riding the current of my erupting emotions — I swiped a knife off the tray the man had brought, knocked him down, and climbed onto him.



Without it, you’ll be just like me!
G-Get — Get off me, please! Someone, help — !
I’ll make you just like me!
Get in here, someone! Anyone! M-Michelle — !
She’s delirious!



There were as many, if not more of them than when I had made the scene in the great hall. A dozen menservants stared down at me, their eyes filled with fear and revulsion. And in the shadows beyond the crowd, I saw Mother looking in on me with vacant eyes.

...
Mother...
Mother! Why... Why will you only speak to me through letters?!
Why do you say I’m cursed?!
...
Mother! I’m... I’m male! I was always male!
...
Tell me that I am, Mother!
...
Let me out of here, please!
I’m not delirious! My head is perfectly clear! I’m normal! There’s nothing wrong with me!
I’m... I’m not cursed!
...
Mother! Say something!
...



After that, I was shut in my room again, and even the servants stopped coming. I pushed and I shoved and I pulled and I pounded with all my strength, but the door and windows didn’t budge. A day passed, and then another. With no food or water, I started fearing death was upon me. I’d had no idea how miserable it was to go so long without water. My throat was dry and cracked, and it felt like it was on fire, making breathing difficult.

Two days. Forty-eight long hours. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. After just two days, my skin stretched tight across my bones, looking hard and dry in the soft candlelight.



I need... water... Someone... please... give me water...
...Why... won’t anyone... bring me any...
Why?!
Ngh!

My family had abandoned me, and were leaving me to die in this room. When I realized that, I broke into uncontrollable shaking. The helplessness threatened to suffocate me. Fear of death turned to panic, which only scrambled my already confused mind further. I grabbed a chair, swinging it at the window — at the door —

— !

— but all my attempts ended in crushing failure.

Anyone!

I clawed at the door, begging for help.

Someone, open the door!
Anyone!

Water! I need water... One drop, that’s all I need...! I’m going to die in here...!

Someone...
Anyone — !
Mother...! Father...!
Didier...! Georges...!
Someone open the door, please...!
Help me!
Someone!
I need water...!
M-My throat hurts... It burns... I’m... I’m so weak...!
Someone, water!
Didier... Georges...! Aaaahh...!
ANYOOOOOOOONE!



By that point, I was expectedly devoid of any sense of dignity — and I sat there, covered in all manner of human filth... as my body quickly wasted away. Still, I clung to the vain hope that someone would open that door. It was all I had. Occasionally, I would hear footsteps. Whenever I did, I mustered up what meager strength I had left to bang on the door.

Whoever’s there... please... open the door...
I’m begging you... someone...

But my pleas fell on deaf ears. Though they didn’t respond to me, I could hear the abigails muttering to one another in the corridor.



Yes, I did.
I wonder what’s gotten into Lady Michelle...
They say she was cursed.
Maybe she sold her soul to the Devil.
How dreadful...
We should stay away from that door...
if we don’t want to be cursed too.
I — I am not... I am not cursed...
I did not... sell my soul... to the Devil...
I’m kind of scared.
I might have to find work somewhere else.
Gotta make sure we stay away from that door.
Why... do you... think I’m cursed...?
I... I never... did anything wrong...
Lady Michelle has lost her mind.
She’s deranged.
I’m scared even thinking about her...
I am not... deranged...
My mind... is perfectly fine...
She’s right crazy.
She’s right mad.
No... I’m not...! I’m perfectly normal...!
Tehehe.
Tehehe.
Aaaah... aaaahh... aaaaaaaaaaaahh...!
Someone...!
Someone... please get me out of here...



and by that point, I was hovering on death’s brink. I lacked even the willpower to hold myself up against the door... so I simply lay on the cold floor, waiting for the end. I felt no sorrow, no anger, no despair. Nothing. I had been sucked completely dry. I couldn’t even compose a coherent thought. Which is why, when the door I had so yearned to open actually did

...

— and someone stepped inside, standing over me, I was unable to process it.

My god... What a mess.
...
Hey, are you still alive?
...Ah... nnh...
Well, look at that! I was afraid you would be dead.

It was Aimee’s voice.

Alopex
May 31, 2012

This is the sleeve I have chosen.
Michel's dad is allowed to mutilate and scar the female servants but Michel isn't allowed to cut off one measly dick? Truly the dark ages were a time of injustice and double standards.

POOL IS CLOSED
Jul 14, 2011

I'm just exploding with mackerel. This is the aji wo kutta of my discontent.
Pillbug

Alopex posted:

You can tell Michel is a man because he tries to make time with an unavailable woman and then calls her a whore in front of god and everyone for having a private conversation with someone else.

I laughed

PetraCore
Jul 20, 2017

👁️🔥👁️👁️👁️BE NOT👄AFRAID👁️👁️👁️🔥👁️

I'm fully expected Aimee to make things worse here because Michel kind of screwed her over with his big public scene, but also we know Michel lived and having gone 4 days without water is edge of death, so someone saved him and convinced people that exile to a country house was the better option. I don't think it was Aimee, but I do think it was one of Michel's brothers. I'm just not sure which one.

Toalpaz
Mar 20, 2012

Peace through overwhelming determination

PetraCore posted:

I'm fully expected Aimee to make things worse here because Michel kind of screwed her over with his big public scene, but also we know Michel lived and having gone 4 days without water is edge of death, so someone saved him and convinced people that exile to a country house was the better option. I don't think it was Aimee, but I do think it was one of Michel's brothers. I'm just not sure which one.

Speculation:

Georges is probably thankful for revealing the affair. Didier is vindictive, hence the death squad sent to the mansion later in life. Michel doesn't know what brother actually saved him, and mistakenly believes Didier is the one thankful. An unfortunate misunderstanding.

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

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


I was a little upset.
...Ah... ah... rgh...

I couldn’t tell what she was saying. All I could hear were garbled sounds. And all I could do was moan at her.

The servants are all afraid of you now, after your little episode. So I volunteered to bring you your food in their place.
Everyone was so grateful. I don’t think anyone likes you anymore.
...

Eventually, my muddy mind managed to make sense of the thing she was holding in her hands: a tray of food. I could smell it from here.

Aah, aahh...
At first, I just gave your food to a stray cat. I wish you could have seen it devouring every last bit.
...Wa...ter...
What I didn’t know, though, was that people can die in just a few days without water. I never intended to kill you.
I just didn’t know. So I’m really sorry about that.
Wa... Water...
But you’re alive. For someone so physically weak, you sure are tenacious.
Isn’t that nice? You have one thing you can be proud of.
...Wa...ter...
What was that? Water? You want water? Hold on, I’ve got some right here.

She picked up a goblet with her delicate fingers. My hands swiped weakly at the air, trying to grab it. A grin spread across her lips, and then she let go.



...
You’d better hurry, or the rug will absorb it all.
...
You wanted water, didn’t you?
...
Then drink.

In that moment, I could hear the sound of the last of my dignity crumbling away. Driven solely by my survival instinct, I bent down toward the rug, pressing my lips against the spreading puddle.



No, cats are much more graceful!
...
I can’t stop laughing. The daughter of a prestigious family — the Bollingers — sucking water out of a carpet!
...
Ahh, I wish I had a painter here to capture this image on canvas.
...
So you know, I accept that I made a mistake, Michelle. I promise I’ll bring you your food from now on.
I’ll take very good care of you.
...
Hehe... This is going to be fun.

Listening to her childish, yet deeply malicious laughter, I understood. I was her plaything now. My hell was only just beginning.

Having gotten food and water, my body recovered somewhat. But I was hardly in peak condition. That would take some time, given how badly malnourished I had been. Aimee continued to treat me like her pet, constantly stoking the flame of rage within me. But I was too weak to stay on my feet for long, and talking hurt my throat. I assume it was a calculated effort on her part to maintain power over me. To keep me as miserable as possible. She always had a smirk on her face as she gazed down on me.



...
What’s the matter? I can’t put anything in with your mouth closed.
...
Or do you want to starve to death?
Aimee... Why are you doing this...?
Why? Because it’s fun, why else?
...! You married into this family, you sick wench!
What gives you the idea... you can treat me — ?!
Are you saying that, because I married in, I’m of lesser stature than you? That’s true, I am.
But what’s your point? You think you can intimidate me with formalities?
Aimee!
Eww. I would rather you not speak my name, if you wouldn’t mind.
— !
That doesn’t excuse your treatment of me! Someone — Didier or Georges will make you pay for this!
You don’t have a single friend here, Michelle. No one to take your side.
And no one to say a thing about me playing with you.
Assuming you were, somehow, able to tell someone,
no one would believe you.
That’s a lie!
Do you have any idea what people say about you?
They say you’ve gone mad. That you’ve sold your soul to the Devil. Do you honestly believe anyone would trust you?
I-I am not... mad...!
I dunno, you look plenty mad to me.
Grah!
Fine, then I’ll run away! I’ll escape from this estate — and from you!



A stray cat could lift more than you. You’d never find work. I give you a week, at best.
You... can’t be so sure of that! Maybe I could make it on my own!
Maybe. But either way, there’s no way you’re getting out.
You try to run, someone might just cut your legs off.
How is that... at all necessary?!
Don’t ask me. Maybe because your curse hasn’t broken? You know, you’re lucky you’re even allowed to live.
Ngh...
And you should be grateful to me for volunteering to take care of you. Nobody else wanted to have anything to do with it.
So if you want to keep living, you have to show me some respect, and you have to do everything I tell you to.
Understood?
So this... this is the real you?! You were just pretending to be respectable...
when in reality, not only are you sleeping with Didier, you’re a downright vile woman!
You’ve been putting on an act ever since you got here!
Oh, you make it sound like I’m somehow worse than anyone else. I’m quite normal, thank you.
How is this normal?!
Listen to me, Michelle.
The side of me you see right now isn’t necessarily the whole thing. The sweet girl I am for the family is also me.
And when I held you in my arms, that too was me.
I’m not putting on an act.
Liar!



If Mother hadn’t asked, I would have never even considered getting friendly with you.
Aimee!
You know, life as a noblewoman is so dull. It’s so... restrictive. No room for love at all.
So can you really blame me? There so happened to be the most wonderful knight right there for the taking. Why shouldn’t I have gone after him?
I’m still young. Let me have some fun, you know? Not like women have much else in the way of recreation.
So it wasn’t Didier... but you who seduced him?!
And it all would have worked out beautifully too... if you had only kept your mouth shut.
You ruined our family gathering and damaged my reputation.
And you called me a whore. That wasn’t very nice, now, was it?
Is it any surprise I’m a little sore? You brought this on yourself, Michelle.
I brought this on myself? Don’t you dare — !
Nothing justifies what you’re doing to me!
I’m not the disturbed one! You’re a crazy whore, and don’t you try and pretend otherwise, drat you!
Oh my... Such language.
You’re not being very nice to me, Michelle. Girls aren’t supposed to talk like that, you know.
Ngh... I am not a girl!
Then what are you?
I’m... I’m a man!
A man? Ahaha... with that body?

Aimee quietly rose —

Ngh?!

— grabbed me by the hair, and shoved me to the floor.

L — Let go of me!



Ggh!
I’m not all that strong, either. In fact, I’d say I’m rather weak.
Just a small, powerless girl... If you were a man, you would have no problem breaking free, malnourished or otherwise.
But you can’t.
Agh... g-get — !

She traced the lines of my emaciated ribs with her nails, traveling slowly, slowly... down my chest.

But even ignoring that, you’re missing the most important part.
S-Stop — Get off me!

I tried to shove her aside with all the strength I could squeeze out of my arms, but as Aimee had said, I couldn’t even overpower a girl. All I could do was lie there beneath her and beg —

Get off me!

— groaning in anger and frustration.

...

Her finger came to a stop just above my navel. She looked up at me with a sweet smile — and then pulled her hand away. And just as a wave of relief spread through me, she shoved me back, jumped up, and slammed her foot between my legs.

Nnnngh!

I shuddered as the pain jolted up my spine.

Nh, gh, ah, graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!

Aimee looked down on me as I screamed —

Aaah, aah, ah, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!

— a smirk spread across her face.



Ah, rgh, s — sto — stop, please!

And she didn’t stop at stepping on me.

I — I’m begging you, stop, please...!

She dug her toes into my flesh.

What are you, exactly, Michelle? From the feel of it, you don’t quite have proper girl parts either.
A — A-Aimee — ! P... Please...!

On top of the physical pain, unbearable humiliation and shame corroded away at my spirit.

What a strange creature you are... Hehe...
S — Sto — Stopppp!

If I could have died right then and there, honestly, that would have been preferable t0o the emotional hell she was putting me through.

You should take a look at yourself in a mirror, Michelle. You’re crying. Sobbing like a sad little girl.
Ahaha... Not much of a boy, are you?
Ngh...
And you lusted after me... with this body?
...
Ahaha... seriously...
You’re disgusting.
I can’t believe...
you actually had the gall to fall for me.



As she had promised, she came to feed me every day, but her arrival brought nothing but anguish and torture. Every day, she chipped away more of my spirit. But I hadn’t succumbed to her yet. My anger still overpowered any fear I felt.

About a week after Aimee started “caring” for me —



I’ll set it right here for you.
...
...What’s the matter, Michelle? Your food’s right there. It’s going to get cold.
...
Go on, eat. But no using your hands. Crawl over and use your mouth.
...
Come on, eat. Or would you rather I fed you?
...y...ou...
What was that? Do you have something to say?
I’ll... ki...
I can’t understand a word you’re saying, Michelle. If you would eat, you would have enough strength to talk.
...ll... y...ou...!
...Huh?
I’m going to kill you, AIMEEEEEEEEEEEE!
— !

That was, I believe, the first time in my life I had felt a sincere, overpowering desire to end someone’s life. I wanted to see her dead. With my hands and legs tied up, I lurched for her, and like the dog she so wanted me to be, I chomped down on her wrist.

— !
A-Aaaaaah...!



Ggh... nrrrrrrrrgh!

But I was determined to not let go of her wrist for any reason. I would gnaw through to the bone and rip her entire hand off. She could beat me unconscious and I still wouldn’t let go. She would have to kill me to get me off of her. I wanted her to feel the same pain I felt when she trampled on me.

Let GO!

My body never did what I wanted it to, though. I could swear on my life I wouldn’t release her arm, but I could never seem to make good on my determination.

Grh! Ngah!

Aimee’s foot flew up into my emaciated gut. The pointed tip of her shoe dug into my flesh like a knife, and I collapsed to the floor in a fit of convulsions. And just as I was about to cough up a mouthful of stomach acid, she rammed her foot into my abdomen a second time.

Nnnnrgh, grah... gghhhhhhhh...!

She didn’t even give me enough time to get to my feet, let alone fight back, before she kicked me again.

Ngh... rgh, agh!

Again and again and again and again.

Grh... ah, s — sto — !

My gut, my chest, my legs — and my face.



Agh, aaaaaagh!
What you did to me that day was incredibly hurtful. Yet here I am, bringing you your food. Can you not see just how kindhearted I am?
...Cough! Nrgh...!
So why would you go and bite me? What would possess you to do such a thing?
Ggh, mgh... ahh...

Gasping for breath, my consciousness slipping away from me, I caught a glimpse of Aimee’s eyes as she swung her leg back for another kick. And when I did, a single word rose to my mind: demon.

...
Ahaha... isn’t that something? You can’t even stand up to a girl.
...Ah... gh...
I’m not that strong. I’m weak and frail. This is the first time I’ve ever kicked someone.
I have absolute control over you, Michelle. You understand that now, right?
You learned your lesson, didn’t you?
Nnh... ngh...

Not an ounce of strength remained within me. My tongue and cheeks were torn up, and my mouth tasted of blood. Thinking herself weak and having no experience in the ways of physical violence, she knew no restraint. The ignorant can be so much more brutal and viciously relentless than the seasoned. My vision had gone red, and I could hardly feel my own face. There was a strange gurgling sound with every breath I took.



...Ngh... ah...
Oh, I know... I’ll tell everyone you finally lost it...
and tried to bite my hand off.
... ...
They’ll all feel so bad for me. I can just see the sad looks on Didier and Georges’s faces.
...Th... They... will... not...
You know, your brothers...
have completely given up on you.
...
A deranged sister...
is nothing but trouble.
...
You know what you are, Michelle?
You’re a demon child.
...

Why... was I the demon... and not her? Why... did no one come to my aid...?

Several times, I considered ending my life, but every time I did, memories of better days came back to me. Of the time before my body had transformed. The days when we were all so sure of our happiness... kept me chained to life. Why couldn’t things still be the way they had been then?

Quinn2win
Nov 9, 2011

Foolish child of man...
After reading all this,
do you still not understand?
Side note - some updates to youtube have hecked up polsy, so be aware that all polsy links run the risk of exposing you to spoilery thumbnails.

Faerie Fortune
Nov 14, 2004

Michel :(

I mean he obviously survived this ordeal but still, he's been through so much already can't this boy catch a break?

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Alopex
May 31, 2012

This is the sleeve I have chosen.
What if something nice happened for a change?

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