Oriane Soleil's Story

If there was one word to describe how she was feeling presently, it would be sick of this shit. Except that was four words, and Eloise was far too done with this day to care to fix it. Word counts are for essays, not life. If she treated everything she did like a college course and its homework, she would be like the miserable students who couldn't step out of the library until they were forced to at close, and then only kept studying back at their dorm. I mean, god, would it kill them to live a little?

Of course, essays and classmates with no lives weren't her main concern right now. Oh no, they were far from her mind, but passing her music class and keeping her scholarship were very much at the forefront. It wasn't as if she had tried out for the solo part of the spring festival, in fact she hadn't even tried out at all. But of course her music professor had approached her, mentioned the festival and before she could even object, there it was. "Miss Grace, I'd love to see you perform solo again. If you don't, you'll take a hard hit to your grade." Why thank you, Mrs. Barnes. That had been just what she'd wanted to hear, and exactly how she'd wanted to spend a free night. Goodbye, Netflix and instant ramen. Goodbye, going out with her friends to band practice. Hello, practicing the instrument she hated so much even more than she already forced herself to.

She was lucky she had no roommates, truly. They would have had to be subject to her angry, begrudging playing, and no one liked to hear that. Not even her own parents, who insisted that they loved to hear her play no matter what. Apparently, the sound of musical venting was not so nice to the ears of the listeners.

For as much as she hated this, she pushed through, because a "hard hit" meant failing her class in no short words. She didn't need her professor to sugarcoat it, she may as well have said, "do this or die," and Eloise would have felt exactly the same as she did now. But the woman's horrid treatment of her ever so faithful student didn't end there. Oh no, it went further. As if she couldn't be anymore humiliated by the prospect of having to attend a goddamn renaissance fair, she was told that part of her grade was presentation and participation. Oh but don't worry, the kind professor told her, she would provide the material necessary for those parts, it wouldn't cost Eloise a dime.

And so she found herself standing, staring at the horrid dress that she would have never been caught dead in if she had free will and choice. Staring at the thing that she was supposed to be wearing in just a week's time had made Eloise nearly lose her lunch all over the thing, and she would be lying if she said she didn't cry on her walk home after leaving her professor's office. Sure, it wasn't hideous by normal standards, and maybe dressing up like a little princess on the way to a ball was fun and appealing for some, but for her? Absolutely not. She wasn't some pretty dress-up barbie, she wasn't a little fairy princess, and she wasn't a renaissance fair goer, but in an instant the cruelties of university shove those things down her throat, and she was left with no choice.

When the day did finally arrive, she had nothing but a migraine and sour mood. Packing up the violin in its case, somehow managing to get herself into the dress that had hung in her closet since two days ago, and out the door she went. Who cares if the trail of the dress was wrecked with travel, she didn't. Maybe it would give it more personality that way, a little wear and tear. Maybe her professor would decide to let her put on something else of her own choice if the state got so bad it would humiliate them all.

Yet, when she did finally arrive to the festival, stepping foot on the grasses of the park, a single look around told her Mrs. Barnes had actually, genuinely, had mercy on her. Oh my god, she had had so much mercy. Her own dress was annoying, sure, but did these people realize what they were wearing when they put these outfits on? Did they know the colors, the size, the gaudy extravagance was one step away from making Eloise burst into hysterical laughter and point fingers?

Slapping her hands together in a prayer of thanks, she clenched her eyes shut and stifled another dumfounded laugh, please forgive me for my previous anger and cold words, Mrs. Barnes, for I am truly a fool. Thank you for not putting me in a bright pink ball gown, I owe you my life.

With a slight mood boost obtained through internally making fun of people, Eloise finally began making her way further into the fair and its sights. She had never been one to attend these sort of things, too noisy and usually dirty, with people lacking basic common sense and care in their overexcitement. Far too many children loose too, with parents no where to be seen, only made her feel more on edge, as they zig-zagged through every person and nearly tripped or knocked them over in the process.

But hey, at least there were plenty of stalls for food. Overpriced food, no doubt, but it was a fair's only redeeming quality in her eyes, and she would be sure to seek those out to eat away her emotions, to tide her over until the time for her performance came. For now, she kept her walk towards the small "stage" that had been setup for the volunteer and university orchestra. Lines of stands and chairs, plenty of places to set down instruments and supplies with a careful eyed man keeping watch over them all. She wasn't sure if he was supposed to be the conductor or a security guard, the way he was dressed along with everyone else. Not that it mattered, it wasn't as if she was here to steal anything. Rather, it'd be great if someone would steal away her violin before the performance. Oh no, she can't perform anymore without her instrument? What a shame! Guess she'll just have to try next time. (Never. Never again. This was the first and last time she would ever visit something like this, let alone perform in it.)

After placing her case somewhere safe enough and making sure it was locked, she took the key to it back, shoving it away into her bra, given there weren't pockets on the dress. Hadn't time moved on enough to provide those for women now? No? Whatever, she barely wore them anyway, especially not this style.

Given that her performance wasn't for another two hours into the fair, Eloise took to her feet to find ways to pass the time instead until then. Food was the first thing on her mind, and with her small backpack slung over her shoulder lazily, she made way for the first stall she could find, selling fruit cups. Sure, it wasn't the sweetest or most exciting thing, but this would be far from the last snack she bought. It was good to start out light, she told herself. Fruit was refreshing anyway, and helped to calm her nerves a bit.

Not that calmed nerves lasted very long; if her music professor wasn't already turning her hair grey, then her English professor was. Lilith Evers, the kind woman who was perfect in every way, that Eloise could only do her best to run from when she saw her on campus, and try and hide in the corner of her classroom when she was there. The woman was dressed to fit in with the rest of the fair, and against Eloise's own nature she acknowledged that, yes, it did look quite pleasant on her, even though it looked like too much for herself. At her side was what looked like a freshman girl, though she had never been that great at guessing ages just by looks. Still, the counseling vibes she got from watching the situation from afar made it feel all the more likely that she was just a first year.

Little freshman! Run! Don't fall for her kindness, or you'll never be free from it!"

Her thoughts are cut short, however, when she realizes that she's been staring at the two of them for far too long. Her gaze is quick to turn to the ground, the sky, other stalls, anywhere else in hopes that the professor hadn't noticed her attention, and wouldn't approach her.

Lights, camera, action! Welcome to Liliya's start of her day, and the very beginning of her plans to enjoy this weekend off to the fullest. A small paper laid over her kitchen's dining table as she ate her smoothie bowl she'd prepared for her breakfast, pink pen scribbling along what she needed to do, and what she wanted to do, all in a neat list that was organized by time and location. It was something her mother had taught her to do from early on, organization and scheduling, to make sure she could make the most of her day. Whether or not she always stuck to her self-created schedules, well that...was up for debate.

"7:00, smoothie bowl, check that off darling." She smiled to herself, making a swift mark in the box of the graph paper, marking off just one of her many desires to enjoy the daylight and soon, the moonlight, as much as she hoped to avoid being out in the dark for long, to be able to return to the comfort of her bright apartment, or her bedroom's dim fairy lights for sleep. She was the master of running from the dark now, while still using up every bit of daylight she could too.

"7:30, morning run." A glance to the clock, she smiled at the time, a comfortable 7:23am, just enough time to finish her food and get dressed into her active wear. Moving the wooden spoon around the glass bowl to get the rest of the fruit and granola, it was soon rested into the sink, rinsed clean and waiting for her to load it tonight when she returned from her activities. Over to her room it was next, half skipping to her closet and opening up the door, stepping inside. Those capri leggings would work nice, and that sports bra...and then out the door she went. It was always nice, brisk, the only way she could really wake up as entirely as she wanted to, and by the time she got back and showered, it was already 8:30am. An hour and a half of being awake and she was already as productive as could be. Maybe it's time for me to write my personal motivation book! Bet it'd just fly off the counters. A pause, maybe if I added a couple pictures in there of myself, too. A small snicker, before she's back in casual wear, wandering to her list to mark off some more things.

Hair and makeup, check. Lunch, check. Stopping by the agency to make sure that there was nothing left for her to do, check. Stopping for a drink at the new café, double checking her homework and projects were on track or finished, double checking the time of the fair, check check check. All that was left at this point was redoing her hair and makeup to make sure it fit the event and her chosen dress. It didn't take terribly long, pulling it back into a pretty little braided bun and leaving out sections to frame her face, and soon enough her makeup was slapped on, quick and perfect as always after years of trying everything she could possibly think up. Her day off was going to be stress free, perfect, and entirely enjoyable, with nothing to make her feel down or disappointed even halfway through the day.

Finally the dress was on, comfortable and perfectly fitting, all thanks to her own alterations that she had done by hand a week or two ago; she was going to be a fashion designer, so of course she had to learn how to do something like that. It was part of her classes anyway, and now this dress could work as a perfect piece to include in an assignment or her portfolio. If she recalled correctly, she'd seen some of he other students working on a dress for one of their upperclassman...Althea? Regardless, she hoped she could see the girl in the dress when she visited the fair.

She'd made her way out of her apartment soon after, catching a couple glances from passerby and neighbors, giving her a little bit of glee over the attention. Where would they think she was headed off to? She didn't know, but she was sure she looked beautiful; she'd put so much time into this look after all.

It didn't take very long for a familiar car to pull up, top down and easy to climb into as soon as she started running towards it. There were already three others sitting inside, two boys in the front and back, a girl in the passenger, and their excited cheers gave a small hop to her step as she approached. "Hurry up, Lily! Before we miss all the midday stuff!" Came Luke's voice, and she rolled her eyes as Galen reached across the backseat to open the door for her. Making sure her dress was well stuffed into the seat and wouldn't catch in anything, it was shut again a moment later before she relaxed into the seat comfortably. Off they went, the gentle breeze of the car running through her hair, though she wasn't that worried about it getting messed up. Queen of hairpins and hairspray, at your service.

"Looking beautiful as ever, miss model." Came Galen's voice from her side, and she gave a joking flip of her hair as she turned to look at him, eyes glinting with a childish joy at his compliment, "why thank you, Gale. You're ever so smooth with your compliments. Never miss a chance, do you?" A shift over to the middle seat, and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he returned it with one to her lips. "Of course not, how could I? The dashing goddess herself accepted my request to date, after all."

It's a sharp giggle from her at his words, and she lands a couple playful hits on his chest as she leans back into her seat again, "enough of that, we aren't actually living in medieval times. I like your outfit Gale, wanna let me take it off you tonight?"

"Agh!" Came from the front seat, and Liliya let out a high laugh, "TMI, TMI! Don't you two lovebirds know that your friends are sitting right in front of you? Keep the sex talk to yourselves or wait until we're gone! We didn't plan this first double date for you guys so you could show off your gross honeymoon phase!" Tia's voice sounds disgusted as she speaks, and she only dramatizes it by sticking out her tongue and scrunching her expression. "If you're gonna act like that, get a room!"

There's only more laughter as they continue on, and soon it settles into comfortable conversation over the sound of the wind over the car. It had mostly been done to get a reaction out of them, really, but Liliya wouldn't lie and say she enjoyed her boyfriend staying over for the night, especially when her weekend was so free. Boyfriend, as in Galen, who she had only been dating for about two weeks now. So soon after being dumped just a month ago, and she still wasn't sure what to think. Was this love or just another one off relationship that would end in another week or two? She'd at least let herself enjoy it for the moment.

They'd arrived soon enough, jumping out of the car to the fair in front of them. Joy flitted over her face at the sight of the dresses and stands, and she didn't give anyone time to gather themselves before they were off to enjoy the sights. Unfortunately, the play was missed, and unfortunately the music performance wasn't for another couple hours, but there was plenty else to look for. Games, food, prizes, what wasn't there to enjoy? So she forced them to walk around for plenty long enough, before they began complaining, and Galen's usual impatience began to dampen the mood, make her feel uneasy as if their new fragile relationship might already be over if he lost his temper now. He wanted to head back to her apartment already, but it was only 3:00, and she still had things she wanted to try and see. "Go wait at the car or wait for me back at the apartment, then." Came her pout and half fit as she looked up to him. "There's still things I wanna do, and I cleared my whole day out for this, I don't wanna just sit back at my apartment for the rest of the night." And that was exactly what her friends and he had done, leaving her alone to the fair that she had barely managed to convince them to come to in the first place. Her pout had been stuck on her face for awhile after that, but joy returned soon enough when she spotted familiar faces a short ways away. Ms. Evers, and her classmate Dawn. In a sudden dash over to the pair, she approached the younger girl from behind before throwing her arms around her, bright smile making its appearance over her face, peeking out from the girl's shoulder.

"Dawnie!" Came out her name, and Liliya gave a small giggle before releasing the girl from her hold. "I didn't know you were coming! Or you, Ms. Evers! Come on, you guys should have let me know you were planning it, I could've come to hang out sooner!" There's a short pause to her giddy voice, and then she's offering a slightly flustered smile, "care if I tag along with you guys? My date ditched me."

Picking away at her fruit cup lasts for a decent amount of time, until she's nearly finished with it and about to move on, but he movements are halted and she finds herself staring down at the green-haired girl that was oh-so familiar, someone in her english class that she had seen occasionally within it if she gave herself the time and effort to look around at the faces of classmates. Her name was...

Cassie. It's Cassie, come on. How could you forget her? Little bundle of energy that seems to make friends with everyone. Is that what being extroverted gets you? She was quite content with her little group of "delinquents," or so the staff and professors had taken to calling them. Did she care? Hell no.

There was only confusion with why the slightly shorter girl was speaking with her. Most people avoided her, or only spoke to give a show of niceness and friendly personas, but there was no reason for people to approach her in a public space like this unless they were actually friends. Or at least, that's what she thought. Cassie didn't think of her as a friend, did she? Probably just acquaintance. Yeah, that sounded more sensible.

Finishing off the little plastic cup, Eloise grabbed a napkin from nearby to clean off her hand from any of the fruit juice that had gotten onto her fingers; getting a stain on the dress at this point would be a stupid thing to do, and the rainbow colors of fruit would show up bright and ready against the white and grey of her dress if she let it get anywhere. The black was probably safe, though, but that didn't mean she wanted to wear a dirty dress anyway. She wasn't a slob, thank you, and if she was going to be stuck in this dress for the rest of the night, she wanted it to remain as comfortable as possible.

Looking back down at Cassie, she's faced with the girl's confused expression, and Eloise wants to groan. Girl, I know I look weird wearing a dress, and anyone who has ever met me knows I'd rather die than show it off in public like this. You can blame Mrs. Barnes! Stop the staring already!

Staring is finally over when Cassie speaks, though, and Eloise's brow twitches slightly at her words. "You look great but you look like you wanna die!" Why thank you, so kind of you to say. Of course she was uncomfortable, who wouldn't be!? A glance around said that pretty much everyone here wouldn't be and weren't with their dresses right now, but her point still stands. Who, as in Eloise, wouldn't be uncomfortable in this goddamn ballgown?

Groaning slightly and forcing herself to straighten out her shoulders, to look a little more "appealing" in terms of appearances (she was technically supposed to help advertise the performance later, and risking getting docked for not "participating" even during a non-performing hour was not on her to-do list. Let me pass the class Mrs. Barnes! I swear to God I'll even pay you!) Still, the irritable look doesn't leave her face, even if it lightens slightly with the opportunity to half vent to a classmate who had opened the conversation herself.

"Of course I'm not comfortable." She mutters, running a hand over her skirt to smooth it out, and rolling her shoulder slightly to try and help with the discomfort of the sleeves, readjust it somehow. "You think I wanna be here? You can thank my professor for my appearance and presence. This fair has practically become my final grade." Dull colored eyes look down at Cassie's vibrant green, before she lets out a sigh again, "not to ruin your fun, but I definitely am not here by choice. If I could change back into a pair of jeans and a hoodie, I think I would be in heaven right about now. Lucky you, not being forced to get all dressed up." A short laugh leaves her, airy and half sarcastic. Wanna take my place, Cassie? You get the grade and the dress and I can get the comfortable outfit and the freedom.

Her continuous complaints are halted though, at the sudden new arrival of bright pink hair and two girls almost on their asses right in front of her. She chokes back a laugh though, and watches as the pink haired one - it was...Willow, right? Yeah, absolutely, how could she forget that girl's name? - apologized in a flustered panic. Of course, the realization of who they both were brought the faintest groan out of her again; not one, but two extroverts? She couldn't even balance the personalities anymore.

"It was an accident Willow, I'm sure Cassie doesn't blame you. No bloody noses or broken bones here anyway, right?"

She can see the slight look of pain over Cassie's features as the girl pulls away from them both, and Eloise's eyes narrow slightly at her words, her reaction. Sure, the collision hadn't been gentle by any means, but it seemed to have put her into a sour mood already, or at least from what she can tell as she turns away, walks off. Wasn't she supposed to be the happy-go-lucky type, laidback and extroverted? Why was she acting all moody now? Jesus, girl, what's got your panties in a twist today? You seemed just fine earlier. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest, whatever, not my problem.

Green hair and eyes are gone, and now all she's left with is pink hair and eyes. Lose one overactive extrovert, and they're immediately replaced, apparently. She's not even sure how to feel about that, but at least this little embarrassment might tone the other girl's active, talkative self down a bit, right?

A look over to the shorter girl, only to see that way too persistent smile stuck on her face. Never mind, to that toning down. Of course that wouldn't happen. "Well, I for one want to get some food and watch Ms. Evers story-telling. If you want, you could join me - who knows, maybe it’ll make this day a little less shit despite you being shoved into a dress?" The girl's laugh rings in her ears, and Eloise isn't sure if she's trying to laugh with her or at her at this point. A light scowl takes her features in a downward curve, and she lets out a huff at that. "Food was the plan anyway, so whatever, it works," comes out muttered. "At this point, the only thing that'll make this day less shit is me getting out of this thing." It's true, really. Getting out of this dress, going back home, it was all she could think of to improve her continuously dampening mood. But she can't, because her 4.0 is sitting on that stage, and she's not about to lose it after enduring these last couple years of hell. Once I graduate, I'll only have to play that damned instrument when I need to.

Shifting lightly in her spot, she glanced around the stands again, before Willow continues her talking, and dull brown eyes settle on her, eyebrow moving upwards slightly. "I know we aren’t really friends, but that doesn’t mean we can’t become them." Friends, huh? Was that what she was seeking out? Silence falls over Eloise for a moment as she thinks. Was it genuine, or just an idea of the moment thing? To her, Willow seemed fairly popular, comfortable with herself and her life, happy. Eloise, instead, was quite disliked by most of those within the campus and college, regarded as unpleasant, too easy to irritate, someone to very much avoid. Them becoming friends just...wouldn't make sense, would it? They were opposites in every which way.

Still, she doesn't have the energy to try and make a scene or get away from the girl, so she just shrugs. Willow could do as she wanted, but she better be prepared to be disappointed.

A sigh and closed eyes, she raises a hand as she opens her mouth to speak, but when she's letting in the light of the day again through her half shut eyelids, she finds that the magenta haired girl has already wandered off, talking to someone at a stand selling desserts. Alright, straight to it then I guess. Mutters her mind, and she shifts around to her bag, trying to find where she'd just shoved her little wallet this time, but she's not even fast enough before a funnel cake is held out in her direction like an offering. Blinking once, she stares at it, and then looks back to the other, her brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

"Eat it while it’s hot - don’t worry, I don’t think anyone will care."

Her hands stop digging into her small satchel at that, grey-brown eyes staring at the dessert as she tries to make sense of it, before dainty hands take hold of the item of food, fingers already getting coated in the powdered sugar layered on top. This was...oddly kind of her. Or maybe it should have been expected, with her personality. Shaking it a bit and letting the sugar flitter off like small flakes of snow, she takes her first small bite, the cake half melting over her tongue, and a small sigh of pleasure leaves her then. It was good, she'd say that; so maybe Willow did have good taste. It's a little mood boost.

"Sorry, I'll pay you for it once I've finished..." Is all she mutters, another small bite taking off a chunk of the dessert. "Thanks for grabbing one for me..."

The quiet settles for a moment as they both eat their fair food, and as sweet as it tastes, Eloise is sure it's unhealthy, but it's what she deserves for being put through this, so she enjoys every overloaded sugar bite. A little of the powdered sugar does end up on her dress in the end too, but she hardly cares; it half blends in with it anyway, the small specks of white in the black fabric mimicking the starry vibe it was probably trying to go for. More personality to it too, in her terms anyway, because rips and wear and tear, distressed looks were common in her wardrobe.

She does eventually finish it off, softly licking the remains of the sugar off her thumbs, and she's nearly about to turn towards the other girl, shove her hands in her own bag again to try and find that cash to give her, but suddenly a weight hits her, goes right through the spot her pendant sits over her chest, and she freezes up, tries to catch her breath. What...was that?

Gaze shifting over to Willow then, they show something akin to panic as the sensation sets in, and before she can reach out or ask for her help, she's sunk to her knees, dress billowing out around her into a black and white puddle on the grass. She can feel the stares of people around them, before the scene before her fades as if it were nothing more than a movie, and in rolls the next.

It's like one after the other, burning into her mind, and while they invade every corner of her vision, it feels like that wall that always kept her from recalling her childhood breaks down. And it breaks down too fast, like a dam of water finally overflowing with that single push, that single drop of rain. Her head aches, burns, as she sees all of it, and her eyes sting soon too. The images, the voices, they're all familiar. Those halls, filled with paintings on the walls and furniture along the edges, a perfect rug down the center, bedrooms filled with beds and desks and books that look like they'd run her wallet dry before she even tried to pay for half of one, servants that bow their heads as she runs past, laughing along with someone- someone important that-

"Valken!" It's her own voice, but higher, younger, "Valken, slow down! Papa- Mama will get mad at us!"

The head of dark hair, the pale skin, wearing something so regal she'd say it looked like a fairy tale prince's. Just as he's about to turn his head, the scene shifts, and she's laying with a man and a woman, warm and kind. The man's hand is gently running through her hair, careful and soothing, and the woman is looking down at her, warm smile as she keeps hold of one of Eloise's far too small hands.

"Oh little Euphemia..." The woman whispers, softly pressing her lips to her forehead. "Isn't it time for our little princess to be brave enough in her own room? Mom and dad are only across the hall from you, and Valken is right beside you in the other. There's nothing to be afraid of, darling, they're just bad dreams."

The man's voice comes through next, just as kind, just as warm, "would you like Raulus to sleep at your bedside tonight? He'll keep you warm, Euphemia, and safe. No one would try and fight one of my wolves, you know that."

Again it fades, and flashing by are all the different memories that she had dug for her whole life, an abrupt unraveling that she can't even control, before finally it settles on the finale, and she finds herself in a different place that she hadn't seen through all of those, half collapsed on the floor with the pain of death and grief tearing at her, ripping down her mind, while the cries, fear, terror, fill the room. Again, there's that boy, and he's standing in front of her once more, but instead of playing, running, he has his feet planted over the ground, a glaive drawn at his side and pointed at someone in the darkened shadows of the room. "Stay there, Euphemia! I'll keep you safe, I won't let her hurt you!"

His voice makes her heart shatter, her chest tighten and her building tears finally pool over. Finally, he looks over, and she finds her own eyes locking with those brilliant, fierce blue ones, terrified but determined to protect...her. Euphemia, not Eloise. Euphemia. And that was Valken, the face and voice she'd so yearned to remember all these years, her...

Her brother.

The vision ends, and just like a movie it goes dark for a moment, silent, before a new scene rolls in. Reality, or was it? She stares blankly at the area around her, the ongoing fair and the people who either walk past her without a care, or nervously wonder if they should step in, make sure she's okay. How long had she been sitting here like this? How long had those visions lasted? What was...who was...who was she?

Taking in a trembling breath, she moved her arms around herself in some sort of self-comforting hug, trying to stabilize her emotions, trying to reground her wild mind, before looking to the girl that she had just been with, as if she might even know what had just happened, if she had even experienced the same thing Eloise...Euphemia? just had.

Trying to gather herself, her thoughts and her composure once more are difficult. She doesn't feel anger like she normally thought she would, she doesn't feel bitterness, not towards her own parents or brother, but rather towards the woman she'd seen at the end, that oppressive force and nature she held nearly stealing her breath away with an agony she can't contain, a burning grief that won't subside, for her family, her family that she had forgotten. How could I? They protected me, they saved me, and yet I... Her brother, so young, so terrified, standing up against the towering woman who would leave him a bloody mess on the floor at her feet, was he even still alive? He is, comes the sudden thought, perhaps a self comfort and a useless cling to hope, he has to be.

Choking back the sob, but unable to control the tears that break out of her dam of emotions - goodbye, makeup. Goodbye, reputation and image. No more mean tough girl, you just cried after falling onto the ground like a little girl. They fall freely down her face, onto the ground and onto the dress that has a layer of disaster around the edges, crawling up her legs now too at this rate. It was the least of her worries all the same; why would she give a damn about performing tonight after this shit? Surely her stupid professor would be willing to let her call out on it, for having a genuine flashback and break through for her memories? Not that the woman would believe any sort of story of those memories she could tell. Let my shitty understudy do the solo, I'm done. I'm done. It was a return to the apartment, that was all she wanted. To get out of this stupid dress and these horrible shoes, to sob into her bed and sleep for the rest of forever.

Sure, her memories were back, but what did that mean? And where had they been? Rhindeval? She didn't even know a country of that name, didn't know any subzero countries that kept to medieval era fashion and culture. What, was it some sort of parallel world? Then how the hell had she ended up here? Some land where things were modern and livable and she was just some orphaned, bad mouthed girl that caused far too much trouble and garnered every glare and bit of hate wherever she went? Not that being an exiled, presumed dead princess sounded all that much better, perhaps worse than the life she had now. Dead parents there, living adoptive parents here, no friends there, friends here, ancient living conditions there, modernity and comfort here. Really, which was worse?

But my brother, comes her thoughts again, and she winces at the pain it brings, the flash of his young face in her mind again. How old would he be now? Mid-twenties? If he were still alive, and her heart cried that he was, what had he been through? How had he survived that woman? What had he had to do, to live? Could she just turn her back on him again, like she had all those years ago?

I was a child. She thinks, but so was he.

Her conflicted, panic of thoughts are interrupted then, gaze moving up to look at the woman before her, that Willow Oriane that she knew from her childhood. Had they seen each other often when they were young? Living in such different environments, the bitter cold and the sweltering heat, she wondered how common travel and visits were, memories still slowly unpacking and reminding her of the past.

"Seems like we have a bit more in common than we originally thought, huh?" The words of her's come out in what seems to be an attempt at a joke, but she can find it in herself to laugh, to try and brighten the moment. Perhaps Oriane had the personality for optimism and the light at the end of the tunnel, but Euphemia had consistently lived her life as a glass half empty girl, and that wasn't going to change now. Not when her locked memories turned out to be more horrific than she had even imagined. Instead, she just gives a nod, and in the haze of her shock takes the other girl's hand while she's pulled back up to her feet. Steady, steadier than she thought she'd be, she takes a step or two back until she's leaning against a post, no doubt pricking and tearing at the fabric of her already ruined dress now as well. Would her professor charge her for it? Or was it some poor fashion student's project that had fallen to tatters at this point, a definite "F" on their report card.

"You...saw it all too, then?" She doubted it was the same as her own visions, but the girl had that same look in her eyes that Euphemia was quite sure she had in her own. "Oriane?" The name comes out in almost an echo, uneasy and unnatural even for its newfound familiarity. Still, the terrified tone it holds shines through more than she'd like, and she tries to swallow back tears again. "Who am I? What...what's happening? What happened?" The anxiety and discomfort of an anxiety attack raise up inside of her, and she tries to push the building emotions back and she shoves her gaze to the ground, "why here? Why now? What am I even supposed...what am I even supposed to do now...?" Go to Rhindeval, find her brother, that's what she wanted to do in this moment, yet at the same time there isn't even a clear path or way to get there. No safety with the idea either; disappearing off the face of the earth would only harm her parents, her living, loving parents, and the last thing she needed to do now was cause them anymore pain, whether it was by them thinking she'd lost her mind with these stories, or simply never speaking to them again when she left.

Another shake of her head, a hand moves to run back over her bangs, into the rest of her hair before falling back in a tussled mess. This disaster certainly wouldn't solve itself, and the more she thought, the more her gaze wandered, out from the empty stalls and lack of crowds to the trio of girls her age, to the woman who stands so patiently at her stage of performance, as if she knew exactly what they were experiencing, what they were seeing. And that was probably true, given the woman was Lilith Evers, after all. Not her English professor, she was the sorceress that had been exiled with them, that had kept this a secret until now, without warning.

That rage begins bubbling up again, so familiar and burning, but even then it's redirected, doused with a bucket of water as another overly familiar face appears; not Cassie, Meridian.

"I knew both of you before college. Can I ask you something? Were both of you adopted? I know I was, but those memories are a blur. Sorry, I feel so confused, like a dam just burst inside my head and I am remembering things prior to the age of eight and they're overwhelming." An outflow of words and questions, that same confusion that they were all wrestling with through migraines.

"You're hardly the only one that feels confused," Euphemia manages, bites back the disaster of emotions once again, "we all saw something like that."

At least someone here knew how to ask the right questions. Or something like that, if the way Rhea- Liliya? Rhea? God, she didn't know anymore. The pink haired underclassman of her's was at least the first to approach, in a far gentler manner than Euphemia herself ever would have taken. Rather, she would have snapped, vented her rage out on the woman before them all, made her know that dumping this bullshit dam of memories at a renaissance fair and in public was, put gently as she could think, a huge fucking mistake. Excuse her language, but how was she supposed to deal with grief that had been stunted and hidden for thirteen years all at once right here? How was she supposed to deal with these memories of a family she'd had half dead, and a mystery brother who she didn't even know the status and condition of at this point in time? And how the hell could she explain this to her parents here? Would they believe her? Would they look at her like she was drunk, or high, or in the middle of some mental break episode again, just like in high school? Probably all of the above, at this rate.

How do I even start this conversation!? Hi Mom and Dad, sorry to show up looking like I've been sobbing my guts out for the last week, turns out I'm actually a pretty little princess from a wholeass alternate world, and I'm going to travel there soon to save my long lost brother! Hello nurses, we're checking Eloise into the psych ward for the third time in her life now. We don't think she'll hurt anyone, but she's seriously lost her mind this time. Call us back never! She wants to shriek, and scream, throw up and jump off a cliff and sob on the ground pitifully and ugly all at once. It was too much to deal with, too much to process and now she wasn't sure which emotion dominated: burning anger or heart-stopping fear. An agony that twisted her heart and stomach, and she finally lets the first few tears escape her eyes, even if she brushes at the furiously with her palms. Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this!

Lilith's voice is filling her ears through the absolute breakdown she's experiencing though, and she heaves out another shaky breath as she lets herself lean fully into that post, legs shaking but unseen under her now ruined dress. Hair shadows over her face as well, and she hopes to god that no one can see the tears, or even pay enough attention to try and notice in the first place. I just want to be ignored.

Words of comfort mixed with apologies, and hope are what she gathers from the woman's words, the falsely titled English professor that's apparently a real goddamn sorceress from a magical fantasy land that Euphemia wishes she could pretend wasn't real for a bit. She'd wanted her memories for so long, sought after them, torn herself and her mind to bits in the late hours of the night to just get a glimpse into her past and what her family was like, who they were, and yet now even just thinking about it felt like she was staring in the face of some ridiculous fantasy book made for children. "Rhindeval," they said, and all she could think of was some Lord of the Rings knockoff that made her sanity turn in its grave. "Come back and be a princess Euphemia." And she wants to tear her hair out. Her? A princess? Absolutely not, the only reason she mildly resembles one right now is because of this joke of a final exam assignment. Have you seen her wardrobe? Have you seen the alcohol she has in her fridge? The leftover weekend drugs her and her friends used, that she's left inside her bedside nightstand because she's too lazy to dispose of them? Even the tattoos that sit over her body. Yeah, no, she's not a princess, thank you and goodbye. If those two are really my parents, they'd be beyond disappointed in me.

They are your parents, and they are disappointed in you, comes that incessant voice that never gives up, and she almost screams out her anger at that alone, only further risking the look of completely lost sanity.

That endless barrage of thoughts and lost patience with herself and her mind ends though, when Lilith speaks again, such a simple offer and hope, a question that nearly makes Euphemia blow her top off, but instead she quiets, listens, "I was hoping all of you would come back with me, but I know it's a lot to ask of you, plus it's dangerous, so I am leaving the decision up to you."

Go back. Of course the woman wanted them to do exactly that, why else would she have clicked that lock right off of their blocks? Her brows furrow as she thinks, as she listens to their others and their choices, finds their final decisions almost jaw dropping. Some of them made sense, others had such a haughty, already regal phrasing that she wants to laugh out loud at them. Protect their people? She didn't even know the face of her own damn "subjects!" Who was she protecting!? She only knew one face, and it was her brothers and by god she wasn't...

She wasn't going to let him suffer for her anymore than he already had. Than he still likely was, if he still breathed and lived as she did.

"Fuck this," she hisses, that spark of rage and bud of hatred still lodged in her chest, a weed that wouldn't let go of her heart, that she was sure would be here to stay for ages longer until that grudge and the emotions with it were there to stay with all the others she refused to let go, "I'm going with you, but not for anyone else. Just Valken, just my brother, I don't give a damn." Her gaze turns fiery as she looks at Lilith, glare still apparent over her features, "once I make sure he's alive and okay, I'm done with this, that's it. I'm sick of my life choosing to be a shitshow with every turn it takes."

"You have every right to remember who you are and where you came from. I know it's a lot to remember and not all of it good, but I am sure you had unanswered questions most of your life. I just wanted to give you the answers to those questions, Rhea. As for the pain you're feeling right now, I know sorry isn't enough, but I truly am sorry for I have failed you and the others. I only hope I can atone for my mistakes and hopefully this will be one of those ways."

"Not all of it good," echoes in her mind once, and again those images flash in her mind, that horrid scar on her friends face, that tearing agony over her parents' deaths that took her breath away before she even saw or heard that they'd passed, that they'd been murdered by none other than her English professor's sorceress's sister. It's not Lilith's fault her sister chose this path, comes to mind a moment later, and her brows furrow, shaking her head, of course I know that.

But still that woman's face comes to mind again, the terror of the moment that she looked them all down as children, that made her mind shut down, blank, empty as she listened to screams and cries, her own expression of agony just a blank face and silent tears, wide eyes that grew emptier with each passing second. And again, that flash of a memory that she doesn't expect, leaving her blank in the current reality too as she tries to process it. At least this time there's a chair for her to half fall into, rather than just the grass and dirt like before. A not so graceful fall later and she's staring at nothing, just darkness, until she realizes that it's because her face is buried into her arms and knees.

Lifting her head, once again she's in that far too small body, tiny features and too childish to be right, but she's starting to get the hang of this now, or so she hopes. Who knew how many more scenes like this she'd be thrown into? At least wait until I get home...

The area around her is not much brighter in contrast to the buried arms from before, but at least she can make things out this way. There's a dull, fading agony in her chest still, the chest that's too small to carry all the emotions that she knows she's feeling in this moment in the past, but at least now she can make herself disconnect from it. A tattered dress, covered in muck and grime and no longer fit for the princess that she knew this child was, but no other options in the musky, putrid smelling place that this was. It didn't help keep her warm either, and with the slight damp edge and spots now soaking into her skin, an uncontrollable tremble kept her in its grip as she looked around more.

It was a cell that she was in, almost entirely alone if not for the two boys in front of her, one laying on the ground and the other crouched over him, hands moving to try and stem...bleeding? Or perhaps just readjust the haphazard cloth being used as bandages. The boy over the injured one doesn't even look much older than her, yet he still tries his best with his work, even as the small hics and whimpers near silently escape him.

That was...Xiaoli, wasn't it? He couldn't have been older than nine. And the one on the ground...

"Xiao? Valken...my brother is okay, right?" Such a familiar voice, and as she turns to look, spots Euphemia, or Eloise as she knew her, just a few paces away but behind a different set of bars, keeping her separated from their trio. Her brother. The girl had clearly been crying, but all of them seemed to be, even herself as the uncomfortable sensation of tears over her cheeks made itself known.

Xiaoli is quiet, doesn't respond for a moment, but eventually that far too childish voice makes its quiet sound, a soft, "...I think so." Sitting back then, the boy runs hands through his hair, letting out another soft hic, sounding more his age as he does. What made him seem so mature for such a young age? Was it his family? Something told her that was the case.

A quick glance to the older boy on the floor, and with his labored breathing, the feverish state he appeared to be in, all together with the giant gash over his chest, his stomach, something told her that him being okay would be a long shot. Are the people here just going to let him die? Or, perhaps, they were confident that they'd be able to bring him back out of whatever state he ended up in by the time they got around to the handful of children trapped in some sort of horror-story prison, without food or water or clothes to change into, blankets or beds.

That silence, beyond the sobbing and wails from all different cells, settles for a bit, keeps things feeling as hopeless and terrifying as she knew they were, the fear beginning to grip even her actual self, so hard to pull away from even in a...right mind, if one would call her state that. Yet it doesn't last; instead, there's the sound of something opening, a heavy door that slammed shut and reverberated around the dark, echoing chamber. Despite better judgement, Rhea feels herself tense up in the small body, wide green eyes moving up to look over at the woman who makes her way in, steps elegant and smooth, full of confidence and power, striking fear into her tiny, child heart. Just a glance and Rhea knows this woman is her enemy, and a terrifying one at that. Someone to run away from and do your best to hide, just to pray that you wouldn't end up in her hands and at the mercy of her twisted experiments. Lady Lithera Helare, she found herself thinking, knowing better than to try and call the woman anything else in her position. Blonde hair and dark attire, that odd, rigid circlet-crown she always wore before being sent to Brimmix's prison. The woman is staring at Rhea alone, and before she can even think to run to the other corner of her cell, that elegant hand is reaching out for her, taking a too tight hold of her memory form's chin, jaw, twisting it up to look at her.

"By the gods, you're a hideous little thing." She hisses, forcibly twisting her hand to shift Rhea's head the other direction, "if Ivelda wasn't keen on just sending you somewhere else, I'd be rid of you myself. Surely it'd make for worthwhile entertainment, leaving you in the pit of a starving beast..."

Without thinking, Rhea finds herself bursting into tears, a high, terrified cry echoing around the room, but the woman's grip is lost as the other small figure in this room with her intervenes, Xiaoli's hands moving to tear away Lithera's, slamming them into the cell's bars hard and roughly. The woman lets out a surprised cry, but it only turns to rage as she puts her foot through the gap, square into the boy's chest and knocking him across the stone floor. "Damn brat! You're lucky our queen doesn't want you dead!" It's a shriek, and one of her hands moves to grip the bar, the other to grab a handful of Rhea's hair before she can run to the other side, yanking it upwards as she lets out another cry, "I'd take you apart piece by piece until you begged for death! Huang should have just cut your head off that night, it would be better for you to be dead and out of my hair!" Another yank of her hair, and the vision fades out, drags her back to reality even as she tries to process anything she just saw.

Shaking her head more, her hands move to run through her loose pieces of hair, trembling breath leaving her. She'd process that memory in full later; right now would be too much. Instead, it would be better to focus on what their professor was saying, apologies and worries, a plan, though still weak given she hoped that the girls would all choose to follow her. Follow her, right. That's what she was asking. That fear returns for a moment, but so does the desire to see this land for herself. To see the people that looked to her family as support and stability, that adored her as their tiny princess.

Letting out another slow breath, she looks to Lilith again, faint smile even making its place despite the restless emotions. "It would only be right to go, wouldn't it? To leave others to suffer like that for all those years...I don't think I'd be able to rest knowing that it's still happening, when I've had the chance to change it by my own hand." Will I die?