Why’d you have to go and steal my picture, eh? I described the situation and everything! It would have been awesome!
[I've always found it best to start at the beginning."]
["I haven't the foggiest. I've been wanting to know what this is all about since I came here, but Nathaniel was never very good at explaining things in words I can understand. 'Fix watch', and that was as far as I could get."]
["He said, before the kitchen had gotten wrecked, that you had suggested something to him?"]
“Where shall we begin?” Perhaps if you had any clue as to what the question meant, you could at least attempt
a beginning. But after all that’s happened since the last time you talked to her? How are you supposed to respond to such a large umbrella-question as that? Ask her a question? Demand an explanation? With the mansion’s situation standing on the edge of a knife, flying off the handle might not be the best idea, and you’ve had rather bad experiences thus far from committing to ideas without enough information. Think back to E-Card…You’ll start slow, and go from there.
“I guess, well, maybe from the beginning?” you suggest, doing little more than fishing for a response right now. “No offense, but I really haven’t the foggiest idea of what’s been going on here. I’ve wanted to know for days—ever since I came here, really—but the only answers I’ve ever gotten were from Nathaniel, and, well, he’s, umm…”
“Difficult to understand,” Remilia comments, completing your sentence for you. “Yes, he is at that. So very enigmatic, that man; so very polite at the dinner table, but ask him a question any other time, and all you get back is philosophical nonsense. I often wonder why I allowed him to stay for as long as I did. If only I would have known that he was to be such a bore…”
She closes her eyes and licks her finger, spinning it round the wine glass and creating a silvery crystal ring that permeates through the dark room. Setting it on the floor next to the green bottle, she begins to answer your “question”.
“The beginning,” she muses, resting her chin in an elegantly curled hand. “Dear me, such a long time ago, the beginning…” She turns around and looks at the giant portrait behind her. “The beginning would have to be my grandfather, then, up there. Vlad the Third, ‘Tepes’. He was once a great prince, long, long ago. A ruler of a small country in Europe, back when war was all the minds of men could fathom. It was under his guidance that his people remained free, though armies pressed against him from both sides all his life. He did not care for ceremony or royalty, but for the common man and woman and child who lived under the shelter of his shield and rod. His methods were hard, and his unwavering determination harder, but the love for his country hardest yet. And yet, though he loved them…they did not love him back. His nobles disliked him, his enemies misunderstood him, even his own family did not trust him. Time and time again he was betrayed by those whom once he trusted, to fight back and regain what he had lost, only to lose it again, and again, until his last stand ended with his sad death.
“I never met my grandfather, you see; he died over a decade before my birth. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like, to have a grandfather to talk to, for him to have a granddaughter to bounce on his knee and smile at. I wonder what we would have talked about, what he could have taught me, and what he would have expected of me. Parents are supposed to care for their children, of course, but grandparents…in them you will find true love, and true devotion. In their age they are wise, and wish to pass on the stories and wisdom to their children, and their children’s children, so that one day perhaps the younger generations can do what they never had the opportunity to do.”
She’s standing on the seat of her chair now, her back to you, leaning against the large throne childishly. Though she’s talking more to herself now, you can tell that she really feels for what she says.
“I wonder, Grandpa…would you have liked me? Would you have been proud of me? Would you have loved to see me grow up to be big and strong like you? Would you have liked it if I gave you a present for your birthday?
She slides back down and returns to a normal seated position, shaking her head bemusedly. “Dear me, but that’s probably not what you wanted to hear at all, was it? I’m beginning to sound like our dear friend Nathaniel! Of course, you would have questions about your stay here? Well, starting at the beginning is no good at all; those are the hardest questions to answer, after all. Let’s start with the end and go backwards, shall we? You ask the first question.”
Question? Well, if she’s going to go back and forth like this, starting from now and going backwards, there is
that one little question about Nathaniel you want cleared up.
"Nathaniel said, before the kitchen had gotten wrecked, back when he was talking with you I think, that you had suggested something to him. What was it?”
She makes a little “tsk-tsk-tsk” noise with her teeth and shakes her head. “Dear, he said that, did he? Well there’s no truth that I can see in it; I haven’t talked with that man since, oh, over a day now. And from what I remember, the last ‘suggestion’ of any sort I made to him is that he really ought to let Sakuya help him with that foolish watch of his. Now, my turn: why did you hit my little Sakuya with that chair?”
Wait, wha—but you didn’t tell her that! Your mind races for an explanation, but Remilia doesn’t give you time to fabricate a false one.
“Ohh, we’re afraid that I found out about your little lie, are we? Fair is fair, young man. If you want some truth, you’d better be prepared to give some in return, and if you’re going to lie, please be prepared beforehand; it’s so pitiful when you don’t even try. Now, the chair?”
There’s no way around it; you have to tell her the truth now, if she’s already called your bluff (but how
did she bloody do it?!). “I hit her because…because I thought she was going to kill Nathaniel, and if I did nothing I thought Nathaniel would have killed her too. I don’t want anyone to die here, not if I can help it. And, well, if it means I have to do things like that, then I’ll do ‘em. Even if it means you’ll throw me out of the mansion for it.”
She laughs at your remark. “Oh, so afraid of me?! I wouldn’t throw you out because of a little thing like that! Sakuya’s been behaving rather poorly these last few days; I daresay she deserves it! I really must have a talk with that girl when she wakes up. But I’m getting too far ahead of myself. Your turn.”
[ ] You may ask Remilia some of the questions burning in your mind. However, for every question you ask, Remilia will be asking one as well. Ask as many as you like, but be prepared to give answers for her questions in return. Do not expect questions of low magnitude to be countered with ones of equally low magnitude, or vice versa.
[ ] You may wish to describe the tone of your questions, or some further-reaching goal of your inquiries. Questioning without a purpose may not help you very much.
[ ] Possible counter-measures or fail-safes could come in handy in case things go sour somehow.