hotel: sylvain

[shaft]

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week 0, saturday, courtyard

[shaft]

[ Sup, Sylvain. Claude is chilling, looking at the statues. ]

So, which of these are yours?

[philandery]

[ smiling cheekily ]

None of them, I'm afraid. But I think I look better in the flesh, anyway.

W0 / Tuesday / Doors

[philandery]

11. You open a door and see hell. It feels impossible to walk away; rather, you are compelled to walk through the door. You will be set free once you have been sufficiently punished for one of your own sins, or once you have sufficiently punished someone else for one of theirs. Once freed, you find yourself back in the hall, disoriented and a little feverish. Only four minutes have passed.

[ he pales as soon as the door opens in front of them, yet his feet carry him forward, against his will. he casts claude a mildly panicked look when he sees him following ]

Why? Are we walking into hell?

[ rhetorical question. he looks around them haplessly ]

This place makes Ailell seem like a breeze...

[shaft]

Nope.

[ Is the first thing he says, trying to grab the door handle to pull them out if this. ]

Nope. Is this a joke?

[ The door disappears. ]

W1 / Tuesday

[philandery]

One of the new doors has bees behind them--7 or 8? 2's got evil clowns. I recommend neither.

Did get to visit a beach outside the hotel though... Nicest break I've gotten yet. You go anywhere interesting?

[shaft]

The mountain. It was hell.

There's a beach?

week 1, friday

[shaft]

[ Where is Sylvain. Claude is looking. ]

[philandery]

[ he's on the mezzanine level, wandering the big dipper hall near the cemetery. there's a distinct look of concentration on his face, like he's searching for something, or someone... ]

W1 / Friday / Late Night

[philandery]

Mikazuki's okay, he's with Tsurumaru now.

Heard you were in a bit of a bind yourself...? Are you injured anywhere?

[shaft]

Where was he?

week 1, saturday, hallway

[shaft]

[ Claude is just loitering in the hallway, looking tired.

He'll straighten up when he sees Sylvain, though! ]

Sylvain. Getting some rest?

[philandery]

Not a chance. But I wouldn't mind sitting down somewhere.

[ chat? ]

week 2, tuesday, laundry

[shaft]

[ Hello Sylvain, Claude is staring at the laundry machine in amazement.

Also, he has antlers today! They seem to have moss hanging over them. ]

Any clue what these are?

[philandery]

[ sylvain is also staring down the laundry machine. he broke one of these, his first day in courtrooms. ]

Yeah. They're dangerous. If you put the wrong thing in, they overfill with bubbles... And they don't stop.

[ also sylvain has a pair of fox ears for today (but no tail, he's an erune). i am nothing if not predictable. ]

week 3, tuesday, wiwaldi / farm

[shaft]

[ There's no time for small talk. They're just trying to relax, when a memory comes at them.

The scrapes burn across your legs and your sides as you lie on the grass, eyes turned toward the sky. The grass tickles your bare feet, the evening wind cool enough to soothe your aches where the dirt road had dragged against your legs, and where the rope around your wrists had rubbed the skin raw. You're used to your father's efforts to mold your behaviour into something greater than you are, and while it hasn't helped your manners any, you've gotten remarkably good at emerging relatively unscathed.

The bruises that mottle your abdomen and face are from something else entirely, already starting to fade. It's something that might've left you spitting mad when you were younger, but now, almost fifteen, you've learned how to keep your calm.

Along the borders of Almyra, the war makes heroes at the expense of families and children. You don't know about the orphans and casualties yet, about the tragedy and strife that haunts them, you only know of the brave that venture out to the Throat, earning glory with the blood of women and men.

Your brother is one such star. He'd left for the border at the age of sixteen, spending five years making a name for himself before returning to the capital to receive thanks from the king. He's young and handsome, enchanting the women and children of the palace, and he hates you down to his core.

So he requests to spar with you in the evening, with an axe to the back. And he offers up a demonstration of his leadership skills, by arranging that his companions do the same. This, too, once burned rage in your chest, potent and furious, and you once screamed and shouted until you realized that it never made a difference. But now, like your father's discipline, you've learned the best way to survive these situations is to keep hold of your temper.

Normally it's a point of pride for you, that you're clever and slippery enough to rob others of the satisfaction they want out of your blood, but this time, after a match with your brother's cronies, when you catch his eye, you don't see the anger or hate. You see disappointment that cools into disgust, as though you were being tested, and you failed.

"Nothing ever changes with you, does it."

That, for some reason, infuriates you.

Which is why you slip poison into his wine at dinner, knowing full well that there could only be no other culprits when he kneels over onto his plate. You couldn't even feign remorse when your father had turned his gaze toward you.

You don't feel it even now, as you push yourself up onto your feet, thinking about the quiet darkness around you, and the golden lights of the palace in the distance. You realize you feel nothing toward the sight of it, toward your home or your family. So your gaze returns to the stars and you follow them west. And suddenly, you wonder to yourself if perhaps your brother was right. Maybe you do need to change.

Claude doesn't look particularly pleased that that's just been put out in the open, but he doesn't try to pretend it didn't happen. ]

Hope you're used to having no privacy by now.

[philandery]

spoiler warning: has a lot of sylvain's 3hopes backstory (from what i've managed to play so far) and some supplemental headcanon

[ it's remarkable how similar the memory is to his own. they almost bleed together. but not quite... no. in the end, sylvain's childhood is still distinctly different. quite the opposite, in some ways:

Your brother has inherited your father's cunning, but not the family's crest. He resents you for it—hates you more that anything, so much that you begin to hate yourself, too. For taking what should've rightfully been his.

He's the son of your father's beloved first wife, and the margrave's second marriage is not a happy one. Your father has been distant ever since he'd lost Miklan's mother, and is often occupied with the Gautier-Sreng border.

Your brother makes sure you're just as miserable.

His hatred for you unfolds throughout the course of your childhood and even into adolescence—bruises and sprains from 'training', a tumble down the well written off as an 'accident'. Spoiled meals, interrupted sleep, ruined belongings—your life is hell so long as he's around.

You quickly learn to defend yourself. You learn to duck your head and to survive. And when that doesn't work, you learn to be loud and rambunctious. You try to find ways to dissuade your father from passing you the title of margrave, and you try become someone else entirely—a fool and a philanderer.

But your circumstances do not change. Your brother still hates you, enough that he's the one to leave. He continues to curse you, even with his dying breath.

And when you finally slay him, you don't feel relief, or even vindication—just self-loathing.

...Sylvain actually has to look away for a moment—he needs a second to process. ]

Is that where you went? After Derdriu...?

W3 / Friday

[philandery]

[ just sitting around at the bar nursing a drink while looking glum. looks like he isn't the only one... ]

...Hey.

[shaft]

[ Claude is more staring at his drink than looking at it, but yeah, that's the mood.

He takes Sylvain's have, the grip is oddly tight. ]

You look blue.

W4 / Tuesday / Station

[philandery]

[ sylvain is where he belongs, in the dog park:

This room almost doesn’t even seem like a room at all because the moment you step inside all you see is grass for forever. Grassy hills, dirt running paths and small little ponds of water make up a majority of this room but more importantly there are several dogs freely roaming the area. Dogs of all sizes can be found here, and most of them are very friendly and ready to play! You may wish to be careful though, because there’s something a bit…off about them. Did that chihuahua just jump 10 feet in the air? Why is that pomeranian dashing at mach speed? Oh, and watch out for the fire-breathing rottweiler. Assorted kiosks around the park are equip with everything you need including dog food, leashes, and toys. Be sure to give these furry friends plenty of love and affection and they’ll be loyal for your time here.

he's busy trying to wrangle a small and particularly yappy poodle, and grins up when he sees claude. ]

Cute, aren't they?

[ the poodle, despite being a fraction of his size, knocks him over. it then pounces on claude to do the same, tail wagging furiously. ]

Uh oh—

[shaft]

[ Claude is here! And so is his wyvern. She's sailing through the sky above though, enjoying the "fresh" air.

He grins when the poodle slams its little body against his legs, crouching down before pretending to be knocked over, wincing slightly as it leans its weight against his chest but otherwise not complaining. ]

Ah, I wouldn't mind going this way...

week 5, monday, realm / town

[shaft]

[ Hello, Claude is here, eating a turkey leg. ]

This almost reminds me of Fódlan. It's a little surreal to be somewhere so familiar after all this time.

[philandery]

It does a little, doesn't it...

[ he props his chin on his arm, which is in turn resting on the table ]

You know, it's strangely satisfying watching you eat.

[ like... claude loves food so much? it reminds him of ingrid. (the only thing they have in common—they're fatties) ]

W5 / Thursday / Security Room (Pre-Curfew)

[philandery]

[ sylvain's group obtained a VHS tape from their excursion, which he was able to make a copy of and is showing to anyone interested... it's time for a plot dump before they get locked up for curfew: ]

The video is a little staticky at first. It wobbles and it wavers, but after a few moments the picture becomes slightly more clear, opening up to the cemetery. A lithe figure enters the area, shovel in one hand and a greasy paper bag in the other. They stop toward the back of the cemetery, setting the bag down before they begin to dig. A sizable hole is made, and they reach into the paper bag to pull out a cardboard box. The side of the box says “Filet O” but the rest is blocked by their hand as a sandwich is soon thrown into the hole. A carton of french fries is upended into the hole shortly after, and the figure pops the top of a cup of c*ke to douse the mess entirely. It’s a little unclear what’s happening, silver fog rolling in as they hold their hands out over the hole and seemingly appear to be talking to themselves…

…and soon a smaller figure appears at the edge of the hole. The first figure isn’t looking at them yet, closing their eyes as if to regain some of their strength.

“Hey,” they say, and you may recognize the voice as Aquarius’s. “You got summoned, so–” They open their eyes and soon take notice that something’s wrong. Namely, the small form is unconscious, and also tied up. There’s a startled noise as Aquarius’s concentration breaks briefly, and the figure nearly falls straight into the hole. They focus again, grabbing onto them before they turn and immediately run out of the cemetery.

The footage appears empty for a while. The hole of food looms ominously. Fast-forward, and soon the camera angle changes to a group of eight gathered around a mausoleum.

One of the tallest figures is… kneeling, actually, down by the one who was bound, hurriedly untying whatever’s holding them bound together. They immediately take that figure’s wrists and rub their thumbs into them, glancing briefly at the others, but their attention is mostly on the smaller figure. When they speak, their voice is recognizably Orion’s, and they sound relieved, at first, with a “Virgo,” and then, a little quieter, “You’re awake.”

One of the figures in the mid-range of heights is holding a knife, as though they expect a fight. When they speak, their voice is recognizable as Lepus’s. “What the fuck? Please tell me the dead just decided to go and lose it. That seems like the least worst possibility here compared to others.”

The second-shortest figure is standing near Lepus - well, leaning against Lepus, actually. They bring a hand up and it goes under their veil, as if they’re rubbing at their forehead. “It’s - what are they doing over there? Did they hurt you?” They pause, and then facepalm. “...they tied you up, that was a dumb question. Why on earth would they– What were they thinking?”

The tallest of the figures also moves to kneel down, their veil shifting to reveal a flash of pink just for a moment. If they say anything, the video feed doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

The figure recognizable as Aquarius stumbles a little, swaying on their feet before all-too-casually leaning up against the mausoleum as their hand scrubs at their face under their veil. “This is terrible. We can all agree this is really terrible, right?” They seem to notice something though and pause to slap at a tall figure’s arm before hissing. “That’s for Virgo, not you!”

One of the midrange figures seems to drop in height; a pair of wings fold into their back, recognizable as Aquila. They land beside Aquarius, immediately moving to support them towards their very casual lean onto the mausoleum, but stay standing, folding their arms and overlooking their downed comrade. Their voice seems a little smoother than usual, less gravelly, and they glance between the person stealing the fries briefly and Aquarius, and say, “It’s terrible. Eat after. What happened?”

One of the tallest figures hovers nearby for a moment, pausing in their movements to reach for some leftover fries. “Oh come on.” They relent though, and suddenly they drop like a stone, losing about five inches of their height. They immediately sit down in the dirt instead and lean back against the mausoleum, turning their attention to the smallest figure.

The smallest figure - Virgo, whose hands are being held by Orion’s - seems a little out of it. “...they - they said that someone was hurt, so I…” Slowly, they shake their head, then wince, drawing one of their hands out of Orion’s to rub at the back of their neck. “Once I got there… they knocked me out. I do not know what happened next.”

Something seems to occur to them, and they gasp, patting themselves down over their pockets… but they come up empty, and both their hands come up to cover their mouth.

“...they took the key. If they have set him loose, they will need help.” They look swiftly at Aquarius. “Please send me back. I have to do something.”

Orion sounds incredibly stressed, immediately, repeating, “Virgo.” and then looking at the others, voice grim. “... He is – a danger, yes, but…”

Lepus sounds calm, although almost deliberately so. “If they went as far as knocking you out, then frankly, it sounds like they might be able to handle things over there. I’d worry more if they were a bunch of soft-hearted idiots.”

“...wait, hold on, you’re telling me they thought it was a good idea to unlock a door that had a cannibal behind it?” Vulpecula, unlike Lepus, does not sound calm. They sound kind of disgusted, actually. “I’ll say it again - what were they thinking? And you want to go back and help them after they attacked you - what are you thinking? I don’t want to see them in trouble either, but this sounds reckless even by my standards! You’re lucky someone over here called for you when they did, or else you might be—”

Cetus presses a hand to their head, as though exasperated. It doesn’t sound as though they’re saying anything, as a momentary silence apparently ensues.

Gemini groans a little, half out of agitation and half out of uncertainty. “Okay, so…what do we even do? Can we even do something about it? A lot of them know how to fight, but…” They appear to be slightly worried about something they won’t say. “I kinda agree though. That was a bad idea.”

Aquarius seems to be sliding a little further down the side of the mausoleum, tipping slightly into Aquila. “I’m going to destroy all of them.” It’s hard to sound threatening when they mostly sound exhausted. “...I’m sorry. I don’t think I should send you back right now. They’ll have to be on their own for a little while.”

Virgo’s shoulders hunch, and they look down at their hands. “But it was my responsibility to keep them from opening that door, and I failed. If they get hurt…”

Aquila’s the one to cut that off before it gets any further, tone sharpening from where they’re supporting Aquarius. “There’s no point in mending the pen after the sheep have bolted. It was their choice, and they’re going to have to figure it out. It’s going to end up even worse if we attempt to suppress it ourselves. Lepus is correct.”

Before any of them can say another word though…all eight of them begin to hear the sound of bells being dinged and typewriters coming on. It’s recognizable as the sounds their bells at the front desk make and the ding of a typewriter as a message comes through. They share looks with one another…and in one fluid motion everything comes to life. Gemini stands, suddenly rising to be several inches taller. Cetus grows more proper in their stance, waiting for the others. Virgo mutters “fuck” under their breath, and Orion pulls away from them. All eight of them agree to regroup later as they disperse, leaving the mausoleum behind.

Guests await, after all.

W5 / Sunday

[philandery]

[ he's gonna show up at claude's door, looking Rather Concerned. ]

...I gotta say you were the last person I expected to see here. What happened...?

[ also he's gonna look around for his girl sahar...!! ]

[shaft]

[ sahar is here!! further in the room, looking extremely unfriendly

Claude will let him in. ]

I could say the same, Sylvain. You were also targeted Thursday night?