—Ah, you remember. You're Dahut. There's something you have to do, but what is it? You can't remember. All you know is that you are Dahut, and there is something you seek.
Before you is a corridor, though for some reason, you can't make out the details yet. All you can see are that there are doors, and that a mirror hangs on one of the walls.]
[NOT THE AMNESIA. Well, he guesses he's Dahut. Maybe he's looking for the kaiju ramen shop...
He'll start walking down the corridor after a second of hesitation, though, squinting a little at the obscured details. First, he moves to set his hand on a doorknob, gently trying it and wondering if whatever he's looking for is tucked away somewhere behind one. He still keeps a wary eye on his surroundings, though, and calls out with a somewhat hesitant:]
Hellooo...?
[As he tries to PIECE TOGETHER HOW THE HELL HE GOT HERE. AND ALSO WHO HE IS.]
[HEWWO Dahut goes to the sound of silence in return...
Unfortunately, the door does not open to the kaiju ramen shop. In fact, it doesn't open at all; looks like it's locked. Though looking at his hand, it seems... small? Smaller than it feels like it should be, perhapsmdash;in that he feels like it should be larger relative to the doorknob, not that it's small proportionate to the rest of his body.
... Were doorknobs always this high up? Well, that might be a silly question to think. Maybe this door is just huge! It's fine.]
ALSO WHAT THE HELL well this is fine, except his brow is definitely furrowing because this does not seem right at all, somehow. These fuckin willy wonka-ass doors he hates it here. His gaze flicks briefly over to the mirror but he doesn't want to head there just yet...
He'll move to try another couple of doors first, jiggling the handles and even knocking on one.]
Most of the doors produce nothing, but after knocking on one, he finally gets a response—a muffled voice, behind the door.]
What is it? It's not time for your lessons yet.
[Your lessons? You started your lessons last year or so, in preparation to raise you into being a proper ██████. This voice sounds like your teacher.]
But oh! Hm. Lessons? It sounds familiar... Something about this still doesn't feel quite right in a way that makes him a little wary, though. He pulls his hand away from the door, holding it to his chest. Another quick glance from where he's standing to the other end of the hall.]
I'm sorry... I don't want to be out here anymore, so may I please come in...?
[Oh. Well! As soon as he hears the word "mother", he immediately loses any desire to break into this room and visit his teacher WHO WON'T LET HIM IN ANYWAY!! DAMN. Maybe it's her that he's looking for? Something about that feels compelling.]
Mmm... I'll go eat breakfast first! Goodbye!
[GOODBYE as he turns and is still in this corridor full of doors, but now he's just thinking to himself that he would like to find the door that leads to the dining room and hopefully his mother.
He'll test a few other knobs, glancing toward the mirror again. No trust.]
But as Dahut heads down the hall, its features start taking shape. This place is familiar to him, he's sure—he's walked down this corridor before, many times. Opening the doors leads to rooms he recognizes, and eventually, he starts passing by acquaintances as well. They bow respectfully when they see him—though even then, they're taller than him (which is normal, right? he should be this height—this age. how old is he, again?).
Like this, it shouldn't be too hard to find his way to the dining room.]
[i dont trust you jan specifically OR your funhouse mirrors
It's still hard to collect himself, mentally, but he starts to feel a little more at ease as things come into shape around him. There's still that nagging feeling in his heart that he's looking for something, so he doesn't spare much time for the people who pass him by, just smiling up at them or greeting them politely and then continuing to walk.
He knows where the dining room is; his little feet have carried him there many times before, and they carry him quickly once again. Before he even crosses the threshold, he's calling out:]
[His mother's voice calls back. When he enters, he'll see her there, standing by her dining chair. She smiles warmly at him, gesturing for him to sit down.]
You're almost late, you know. Come on, have a seat. Breakfast is ready.
[There is perhaps still that tug inside of him telling him that he's looking for something, or maybe some sense of unease clinging like a cobweb to his heart, but the sight of his mother immediately just blasts every other thought out of his brain. GOOBY...
He scampers right on over, nearly tripping in his haste to reach her. NOT VERY ELEGANT BEHAVIOR but it's fine it's fine... BOWLING INTO HER so he can hug her with all the might in his tiny little body. He's always been clingy.]
I'm sorry, Mother! [He says, clearly not sorry at all and also not moving to sit yet.] What are we having today?
[This is decidedly not elegant behaviour, but she will overlook it... She hugs him back. Her baby boy!! Aki is going to tell me this is a wildly OOC mom but it's fine, Dahut is still living somewhat in AUland.]
We'll be having some of those pastries that you like, as well as some fresh fruit. Make sure to eat all of it, especially if you want to grow up big and strong, all right?
[I don't know shit about what royal families eat for breakfast. Help me. Anyway, the chefs bring everything out and it all looks good and tasty. A servant pours them both a cup of tea as well.]
[JAN TAKING A SHOT IN THE DARK AND PLAYING AN IC MOM. This AUland is accurate and he loves his mother very much. girl same tho it's fine FUCKING PASTRIES AND FRESH FRUIT LIKE THIS IS THE LOCAL RED LION.
He'll finally step away from the hug so that he can go take his seat all prim and proper, though it's clear that he would be reaching for his mother's hand right away if he didn't need both of his hands to eat this continental breakfast.]
Oooh! Yay! It's been forever since we've had those! [IT HAS PROBABLY NOT BEEN. Or maybe it has? Hm. Well, this is fine; he'll thank the servant for the gracious pour and turn his attention back to her, waiting for her to take a sip so he can match.]
[Alas, Dahut does not have more than two hands. No hand holding.
She takes an elegant sip, and assuming Dahut does the same, perhaps less elegantly—
Well, first, the tea is good. Imagine if they served you shittyass tea.
Second, after a bit, Dahut will... start to feel sick? Perhaps his vision starts to fade, or his head swims, or his stomach hurts, but. Something feels wrong.]
[NO HAND HOLDING AND NOW HE'S SUFFERING WITH THIS GOOD TEA THAT'S MAKING HIM SICK. He'd put his cup down after that (slightly less) elegant sip and was in the middle of reaching for a piece of fruit, but almost drops his fork as his vision swims and flickers.
Naturally, the first thing he does when he feels unwell is look to his mother.]
[His mother rises from her seat in alarm, rushing over to him. Dahut will find himself no longer able to sit upright, about to collapse were it not for his mother holding onto him. This close up, she's looking a bit pale and sweaty herself, though maybe it's just concern for her child?]
A doctor, immediately! [And then, back to Dahut—] Dahut, my dear, stay with me!
[Though unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Dahut will find himself blacking out sooner or later as nausea overtakes him.]
[NOT HIS PALE SWEATY MOMTHER. He sees that, and he's worried about it, but he can barely hold onto his own conscious thoughts and it takes all of his effort just to try grabbing for her hand.]
Mother... You...
[Blacking out is a mercy nausea is so gruesome. He tries to struggle against it anyway, but eventually his grasp slackens and he KO's the fuck outtie, nightynight peanut.]
When Dahut wakes up again, he's in his bed. He still doesn't feel great, as residual nausea swims in his head, but he at least feels better than he did when he blacked out.
His hand sure is warm, though! If he looks to it, he'll see that his mother, seated by his bed, is holding onto it. Though she's currently asleep, she looks as though she's been crying.]
The residual sickness is terrible, but at least his hand is warm! He blinks back the grogginess, reflexively giving his mother's hand a squeeze. Rolling over a little in his bed is met with immediate regret OURGHHGH HIS TUMMY, but at least now he can reach out with his free hand to tug on her dress.]
Mother...? Mother... Are you okay...?
[Both because he vaguely remembers her looking unwell and also now SHE'S BEEN CRYING.]
[When Dahut tugs at his mother's dress and speaks, she awakens, giving a start when she realizees Dahut is awake as well. Clutching his hand more tightly, she leans forward.]
Oh, Dahut. I'm so sorry—I should've been more alert. How are you feeling?
[NOT HIS SWEET MOMTHER!!! As she leans forward, he does his best to wigglescoot to the edge of the bed with his stupid little body so he can hold his arm out toward her, wanting to be picked up and held even though he's still a wilting cabbage.]
I feel better... [Which isn't a full lie even if it isn't the full truth.] My belly really hurt...?
[Which is said in a disgruntled, vaguely confused way, like he can't put together why even though that little distant part of unease in him is still present.]
[She's his doting mother, so of course she'll pick him up. Her baby. ): She still looks a little pale, shaking slightly as she embraces him.]
It's okay now, Dahut. All you need to do is focus on recovering. Your mother will protect you, no matter what.
[But Dahut will hear voices beyond his bedroom door. Something feels off about them, like he can't quite tell—are there people speaking outside, or is he recalling something about the situation? Deducing?
Poison... Must find who did it. ... Terrible, but perhaps it was fortunate it showed in him first, before Her Majesty drank too much...]
[No he just clings to his doting mother, tucking himself into her arms and hiding his face away for a moment. It would be so easy to listen to her words and believe in them - to believe that no matter what, she would protect him.
But the voices - are they voices beyond the door? He isn't sure, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment even though that does nothing to block them out. Poison. He peels himself away enough to look at his mother's pale face, to really take in the slight shake to her arms.]
...We were-- poisoned...?
[But who? Why would anyone do that? It makes no sense. He doesn't even think of himself in this moment, but his precious, loving mother, who works so very hard for her people.]
[Why would someone do that? What have you and your mother done wrong, other than simply be born with royal blood? Your mother, surely, has always lived up to that privilege. Who could ask for a better queen? Why would anyone want her gone?
Are these questions Dahut has ever received answers to, in the recesses of his memory, or are there any answers he could ever accept?]
... Yes, but it's all right. The doctors worked hard to cure the both of us before it got too dangerous.
[Dahut pulls away for a moment, but his mother then hugs him even more tightly.]
It's all right. I won't let it happen again. Oh, Dahut, my son...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
DAHUT
—Ah, you remember. You're Dahut. There's something you have to do, but what is it? You can't remember. All you know is that you are Dahut, and there is something you seek.
Before you is a corridor, though for some reason, you can't make out the details yet. All you can see are that there are doors, and that a mirror hangs on one of the walls.]
no subject
He'll start walking down the corridor after a second of hesitation, though, squinting a little at the obscured details. First, he moves to set his hand on a doorknob, gently trying it and wondering if whatever he's looking for is tucked away somewhere behind one. He still keeps a wary eye on his surroundings, though, and calls out with a somewhat hesitant:]
Hellooo...?
[As he tries to PIECE TOGETHER HOW THE HELL HE GOT HERE. AND ALSO WHO HE IS.]
no subject
Unfortunately, the door does not open to the kaiju ramen shop. In fact, it doesn't open at all; looks like it's locked. Though looking at his hand, it seems... small? Smaller than it feels like it should be, perhapsmdash;in that he feels like it should be larger relative to the doorknob, not that it's small proportionate to the rest of his body.
... Were doorknobs always this high up? Well, that might be a silly question to think. Maybe this door is just huge! It's fine.]
no subject
ALSO WHAT THE HELL well this is fine, except his brow is definitely furrowing because this does not seem right at all, somehow. These fuckin willy wonka-ass doors he hates it here. His gaze flicks briefly over to the mirror but he doesn't want to head there just yet...
He'll move to try another couple of doors first, jiggling the handles and even knocking on one.]
Hello? Hello...!
no subject
Most of the doors produce nothing, but after knocking on one, he finally gets a response—a muffled voice, behind the door.]
What is it? It's not time for your lessons yet.
[Your lessons? You started your lessons last year or so, in preparation to raise you into being a proper ██████. This voice sounds like your teacher.]
no subject
But oh! Hm. Lessons? It sounds familiar... Something about this still doesn't feel quite right in a way that makes him a little wary, though. He pulls his hand away from the door, holding it to his chest. Another quick glance from where he's standing to the other end of the hall.]
I'm sorry... I don't want to be out here anymore, so may I please come in...?
no subject
Are you sure? Your mother won't be happy if you're skipping breakfast, child.
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Mmm... I'll go eat breakfast first! Goodbye!
[GOODBYE as he turns and is still in this corridor full of doors, but now he's just thinking to himself that he would like to find the door that leads to the dining room and hopefully his mother.
He'll test a few other knobs, glancing toward the mirror again. No trust.]
no subject
But as Dahut heads down the hall, its features start taking shape. This place is familiar to him, he's sure—he's walked down this corridor before, many times. Opening the doors leads to rooms he recognizes, and eventually, he starts passing by acquaintances as well. They bow respectfully when they see him—though even then, they're taller than him (which is normal, right? he should be this height—this age. how old is he, again?).
Like this, it shouldn't be too hard to find his way to the dining room.]
no subject
It's still hard to collect himself, mentally, but he starts to feel a little more at ease as things come into shape around him. There's still that nagging feeling in his heart that he's looking for something, so he doesn't spare much time for the people who pass him by, just smiling up at them or greeting them politely and then continuing to walk.
He knows where the dining room is; his little feet have carried him there many times before, and they carry him quickly once again. Before he even crosses the threshold, he's calling out:]
Mother? Are you here...?
no subject
[His mother's voice calls back. When he enters, he'll see her there, standing by her dining chair. She smiles warmly at him, gesturing for him to sit down.]
You're almost late, you know. Come on, have a seat. Breakfast is ready.
no subject
He scampers right on over, nearly tripping in his haste to reach her. NOT VERY ELEGANT BEHAVIOR but it's fine it's fine... BOWLING INTO HER so he can hug her with all the might in his tiny little body. He's always been clingy.]
I'm sorry, Mother! [He says, clearly not sorry at all and also not moving to sit yet.] What are we having today?
no subject
We'll be having some of those pastries that you like, as well as some fresh fruit. Make sure to eat all of it, especially if you want to grow up big and strong, all right?
[I don't know shit about what royal families eat for breakfast. Help me. Anyway, the chefs bring everything out and it all looks good and tasty. A servant pours them both a cup of tea as well.]
no subject
He'll finally step away from the hug so that he can go take his seat all prim and proper, though it's clear that he would be reaching for his mother's hand right away if he didn't need both of his hands to eat this continental breakfast.]
Oooh! Yay! It's been forever since we've had those! [IT HAS PROBABLY NOT BEEN. Or maybe it has? Hm. Well, this is fine; he'll thank the servant for the gracious pour and turn his attention back to her, waiting for her to take a sip so he can match.]
no subject
She takes an elegant sip, and assuming Dahut does the same, perhaps less elegantly—
Well, first, the tea is good. Imagine if they served you shittyass tea.
Second, after a bit, Dahut will... start to feel sick? Perhaps his vision starts to fade, or his head swims, or his stomach hurts, but. Something feels wrong.]
no subject
Naturally, the first thing he does when he feels unwell is look to his mother.]
—Mother...? I don't... feel very...
no subject
[His mother rises from her seat in alarm, rushing over to him. Dahut will find himself no longer able to sit upright, about to collapse were it not for his mother holding onto him. This close up, she's looking a bit pale and sweaty herself, though maybe it's just concern for her child?]
A doctor, immediately! [And then, back to Dahut—] Dahut, my dear, stay with me!
[Though unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Dahut will find himself blacking out sooner or later as nausea overtakes him.]
no subject
Mother... You...
[Blacking out is a mercy nausea is so gruesome. He tries to struggle against it anyway, but eventually his grasp slackens and he KO's the fuck outtie, nightynight peanut.]
no subject
When Dahut wakes up again, he's in his bed. He still doesn't feel great, as residual nausea swims in his head, but he at least feels better than he did when he blacked out.
His hand sure is warm, though! If he looks to it, he'll see that his mother, seated by his bed, is holding onto it. Though she's currently asleep, she looks as though she's been crying.]
no subject
The residual sickness is terrible, but at least his hand is warm! He blinks back the grogginess, reflexively giving his mother's hand a squeeze. Rolling over a little in his bed is met with immediate regret OURGHHGH HIS TUMMY, but at least now he can reach out with his free hand to tug on her dress.]
Mother...? Mother... Are you okay...?
[Both because he vaguely remembers her looking unwell and also now SHE'S BEEN CRYING.]
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Oh, Dahut. I'm so sorry—I should've been more alert. How are you feeling?
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I feel better... [Which isn't a full lie even if it isn't the full truth.] My belly really hurt...?
[Which is said in a disgruntled, vaguely confused way, like he can't put together why even though that little distant part of unease in him is still present.]
no subject
It's okay now, Dahut. All you need to do is focus on recovering. Your mother will protect you, no matter what.
[But Dahut will hear voices beyond his bedroom door. Something feels off about them, like he can't quite tell—are there people speaking outside, or is he recalling something about the situation? Deducing?
Poison... Must find who did it. ... Terrible, but perhaps it was fortunate it showed in him first, before Her Majesty drank too much...]
no subject
But the voices - are they voices beyond the door? He isn't sure, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment even though that does nothing to block them out. Poison. He peels himself away enough to look at his mother's pale face, to really take in the slight shake to her arms.]
...We were-- poisoned...?
[But who? Why would anyone do that? It makes no sense. He doesn't even think of himself in this moment, but his precious, loving mother, who works so very hard for her people.]
no subject
Are these questions Dahut has ever received answers to, in the recesses of his memory, or are there any answers he could ever accept?]
... Yes, but it's all right. The doctors worked hard to cure the both of us before it got too dangerous.
[Dahut pulls away for a moment, but his mother then hugs him even more tightly.]
It's all right. I won't let it happen again. Oh, Dahut, my son...
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