Seth’s heart breaks when he sees annie’s sad smile, but it completely shatters when she tells him she tell him that she should be the one asking him if he needs anything and all at once it is like a levee breaks for him as a tears begin to spill from his eyes. Though he’s quick to hide his face behind his hands, not wanting her to have to see him cry. He didn’t think it was fair to try and ask someone so young to bear the burden of his feeling, especially not when she was so obviously hurting herself. “Don’t say that,” Seth’s response is curt but there wasn’t any anger or annoyance in his voice, just sorrow.
PERHAPS THERE IS selfishness on her part for asking him about his problems rather than divulging her own, though she wouldn’t even know where to start. even so, she sees him cry and wonders if she accidentally caused that, all the while feeling tears prickling in the corners of her own eyes. she scrunches her eyes closed in order to get rid of them before dropping her bag down on the counter and moving around so she’s on the other side of it. ❝ but i’m worried, ❞ she says, then opens her arms. ❝ do you want a hug ?? i’ll be honest, i could do with one right now, too. ❞ the seth / seteth thing aside, this is someone who was there for her when no one else was. the least she can do is listen to his problems.
It was clear to everyone who knew him that Seth was hardly his usual self since the new year started. How could he be after that terrible nightmare he had, or with all of the questions circling in his head about what he had seen in it. He could make enough sense of why he might have seen his sister as his daughter he’d raised her for most of her life. The battlefield and the deceased wife who he had never seen before in his life and how real it had all felt, more like a memory than a dream, that was what he had struggled to wrap his head around since. That was the reason he hadn’t slept in almost two days now. It was what had him sitting here with his head in his hands when he heard footsteps approaching, though even then he didn’t look up at first almost too exhausted to even move his head. When he finally did look up he tried to offer the person in front of him a friendly smile, but he had no illusion that they wouldn’t see how half hearted it was. “Hello,” he said softly, his voice hoarse, “can I help you with something.”
ANNIE ISN’T IN the best of spirits, to the say the least. she doesn’t think she has ever felt so low in her life, and the constant visions and dreams are starting to get to her more than ever, especially now that she’s remembered things. she knows her name, knows that she has known her friends for far longer than she originally thought, knows that she’s had a whole other life. she doesn’t have all the pieces yet, but she thinks it’s only a matter of time before she does.
going to seth’s is a risk. the others could show up at any time, ingrid or felix especially, but speaking to seth tends to help her out, and so she is willing to risk it. that is, until she sees him and her mind goes blank, a familiar feeling by this point. she sees seth ( no, seteth, his name is seteth ) standing in some sort of office before she forces herself to snap out of it. now isn’t the time for that. she’s sure she’ll see it later.
when he looks up, she gives him a sad smile. she’s sure she looks just as bad as he does. ❝ it’s alright, ❞ she says, already brushing her own issues aside. ❝ i should be asking you that. ❞
THOUGH HELENA’S NEW YEAR’S EVE hadn’t been particularly eventful — other than the fact that she got to spend it with laurie and miriam of course , that didn’t mean the girl hadn’t had fun . in fact , to kiss her dear crush at midnight was definitely fun ! a smile appeared on the magenta eyed girl’s lips at the memory , the faintest shade of pink warming up her cheeks . what a good way to start the new year !
the excitement for things to come led the girl to go on a little adventure today , which was no more than a little walk around town , hopefully to gather some inspiration for the spring collection of her shop ; after all , she would have to start working on it soon . however , she wasn’t counting on running into a familiar face while wandering around the park . a familiar yet sad face . ❝ … annie ? ❞ helena greeted while approaching the redhead , head tipping to the side in confusion . ❝ you okay ? … not to be mean , but you look like an episode of the walking dead . ❞
THIS IS EXACTLY what annie was afraid of — running into someone she knows. she knows it could be worse, that it could be one of the people she texted on new year’s eve, and so that’s why she barely hesitates before looking up once she hears the familiar voice —
❝ you said how hard you’ve been working not to disappoint your family. you cleaned my room, or tried to, because i was feeling overwhelmed. you’re always taking on other people’s burdens. ❞
❝ hmm... you might be right. it could be nice to do something for myself sometime. but if i hadn’t tried for other people’s sakes, maybe i wouldn’t have tried at all. i might not have made it this far. so really, i don’t regret a thing. who i am now is the sum of everything i’ve done. ❞
— she shakes her head, a small, barely noticeable movement. ❝ it’s okay, you’re absolutely right. ❞ she hopes she doesn’t sound too shaken up. ❝ i know i look terrible. ❞
HER MOTHER HAD been worried about her shutting herself in her room all day, shooing her out mid-afternoon to get some fresh air. the last place she wants to be is anywhere in public where she could run into anyone she knows. she doesn’t know whether it’s for the best for her to see anyone, not after the disaster from new year’s eve. she hasn’t even texted them back.
for now, she sits on a park bench, staring at the nearby pond. she isn’t truly looking at anything, her mind replaying everything she saw — remembered — in the past twenty-four hours. she knows she looks like an absolute mess, but she can’t bring herself to care, not right now.
ANNETTE DOESN’T BOTHER being quiet as she returns home, storming upstairs to her room as fast as her legs can take her. she’s shaking, she realises, her fingers fumbling with the doorknob for a second too long before she flings the door open and stumbles inside.
her head is pounding and she doesn’t know how to make it stop.
her text tone echoes throughout the room and she realises she has been clutching her phone this entire time. she catches the name on the screen ( finn, except it isn’t finn, it’s felix, she’s known that for a while, hasn’t she ?? ) and everything in their message blurs as her vision is obstructed by tears. she closes her eyes in an attempt to be rid of them, but the moment she does —
she’s surrounded by flowers. the greenhouse is beautiful this time of year, but she isn’t looking at any of it. instead, she is focused on the friend in front of her, and she can feel her own confusion.
❝ well, if you feel like that about it... i suppose i could sing for you sometimes. if you’d like that sort of thing. ❞
that’s her voice, that is definitely her voice. and the person who responds —
❝ oh ?? i’d better go. bye. ❞
the abruptness is not lost on her. she knows that voice, too, perhaps not as much as she knows her own, but more than she thought she did.
❝ hey, wait !! you just got here... do you want to hear me sing or not ?? ❞
❝ uh, yes, i do. ❞
❝ well, what song do you want me to sing ?? bears, swamp beasties, boxes, or dungeon ?? ❞
❝ i’d like to hear all of them, if you don’t mind. starting with the library song, in full. sing for me. please, annette ?? ❞
❝ well... okay, just this once. ❞
— her eyes fly open as melodies infiltrate her mind, lyrics about libraries and steak and cake buzzing around and not leaving her alone. she knows these songs, she made these songs, but when ??
her movements are clumsy as she unlocks her phone in her search for answers. she doesn’t respond to her most recent message, instead scrolling down to the next message on her list, the group chat started by isolde —
❝ more importantly... do you notice anything different about me today ?? ❞
that’s isolde. isolde is standing right in front of her, but she knows that it isn’t isolde, but who... ??
❝ yes !! it’s very subtle, but i could tell right away that you were using the makeup i gave you !! ❞
❝ you could ?? ah, that makes me happy. i was trying to apply it just how you showed me. ❞
but she doesn’t remember ever doing that — no, wait, she does. she does !!
❝ you did great, and it really suits you. ❞
it does.
❝ i think there’s a lot i can learn from you, annette. you’ve helped me embrace a lighter side of life i quite like. ❞
ingrid, she thinks before the image disappears entirely. this is ingrid.
— guilt is all she feels when she comes to again. guilt for not remembering ingrid’s real name sooner, guilt for having gone through similar scenarios as annie without realising it. the logical part of her that currently occupies a small spot in the back of her mind knows that none of this is her fault, yet the guilt is so immense that she can barely comprehend it.
she doesn’t stop, though. she can’t. she isn’t annette fantine dominic if she isn’t willing to learn every single little thing. she focuses on the next name on the list, dimitri —
she’s looking at a king. she has to crane her neck, he’s so much taller than her, but this is definitely a king. or someone who is soon to be a king. this is his highness.
❝ if i leave you to your own devices, you’ll forget how to laugh !! we can’t have that. you won’t be able to do what you have to do with such a miserable look on your face. so, if you’ll have me, i’d like to stay by your side. if you’re sad or suffering, i’ll just starve you until you smile !! ❞
❝ starve me... hahaha !! ❞
she’s stunned. she doesn’t think she has ever seen him laugh, or if she has, it has been a long, long time.
❝ hey !! you weren’t supposed to laugh at that part !! i thought a lot about this !! ❞
❝ heh, sorry, i could not help myself. certainly, with you around, i will not have any cause to frown. by all means, join me, annette, and never lose that sweet smile of yours. ❞
❝ yes !! i promise !! ❞
— should she be mortified for addressing his highness so casually ?? it isn’t her fault if she didn’t know, right ?? now that she thinks about it, does dimitri even know ??
a hand shakily covers her mouth as she slides the other over the screen to see the final name, one she had always thought was strange, as though it gave her a sense of deja vu, and now —
❝ there’s just one thing i want you to remember. ❞
she’s seen this classroom before. it’s become as familiar as the scenery at work, as her own room.
❝ guys like me who hate hard work and sorta get by on our wits ?? it all falls apart eventually. i’m smart enough to know that. so i respect people like you. i mean it. ❞
❝ oh. is that... sincerity ?? it’s kind of creeping me out, it’s so unlike you !! ❞
❝ huh ?? ❞
❝ when you say nice things like that, i can’t take joy in beating you !! i want to beat you when you’re at your best !! that’s why it bothers me so much when you don’t try your hardest against me. ❞
❝ let me put this a different way... i’ve always been treated like i’m special, and i’m not. at least, i don’t think i am. i’m just tired of people thinking they know what i can and can’t do. when everybody expect something of you or envies you, it’s kind of suffocating. i’d rather people think i’m dumb. well, i can still be pretty dumb, heh... ❞
no, she thinks, and she doesn’t know whether it’s the her in her memory or truly her thoughts. probably both. you are special. all of us are special in our own ways, special to at least one other person in our lives, just as we deserve. you deserve to live a life without expectations, sylvain.
❝ i have to admit, i have a hard time understanding where you’re coming from. just know that... i want you to keep being great at things without trying. if you stop being that way, i won’t have any competition !! ❞
❝ competition, huh ?? i like the sound of that. where the heck were you when i was growing up ?? if i had someone like you back then, i think i may have turned out different. better, i mean... ❞
— her phone clatters to the floor, and she’s thankful that it landed on carpet rather than wood. she curls in on herself ( when did she take her shoes off ?? was it before or after she started flashing back ?? ), resting her head on her knees and taking deep breaths. it does nothing to stop her sobs.
who else is there ?? who else has she forgotten ?? who else —
❝ i think i love you more than just about anything in the world !! ❞
❝ you do ?? oh, annie, you’re too sweet. ❞
❝ not as sweet as your baking !! i love your baking more than anything in the world, too, other than you. ❞
❝ well, i’m always happy to bake for you, annie !! ❞
— her gasp gets caught in her throat, right between her voice and her cries. she muffles this new wave of sobs by holding her face in her hands, pressing them against her mouth so as not to be too loud. exhaustion is tugging at her already, but all she can do is utter one name. the name of her best friend.
❝ mercie. ❞
and even as she feels herself succumbing to slumber, she knows that her dreams will be full of memories, whether she’s ready to confront them or not.
— WHEN SHE ACCEPTS THE REQUEST , Shiloh gives perhaps an even wider smile of relief because hey , business is business and of course does it occupy their time while they’re sitting out her in the cold. They at least don’t have to focus on the wintry wind biting at their nose & cheeks and the holiday stress that is weighed upon their shoulders ; it’s a relief , and it’s also a nice way to try and make a friend. Because of course , lord knows that Shiloh could use some of those.
❝ Awesome !! Awesome , I … ❞ It’s obvious they’re excited ; they almost trip over themselves as they reach to push towards the decorating items towards her , screwing on plastic frosting tips to multiple bags and laying out containers of sprinkles and candies. ❝ You can use whatever you want here ; I even made my own little guy here , you see ?? ❞ They hold up their own little gingerbread cookie , a spiky-haired blonde mullet-sporting gingerbread man in a long , black coat. A blue instrument thing is drawn on poorly with frosting , but it’s still cute. ❝ He … doesn’t look that good , but I tried. ❞
ANNIE WRAPS HER scarf so it covers more of her neck. she knows that the cold winds are making her nose red, which she supposes goes with the holiday season. she can be everyone’s personal rudolph. she wills herself to force any thoughts of the cold away and focus on thoughts of warm things — fireplaces, warm jumpers, blankets. anything she can think of.
she stares at all of the different things she can use to decorate her gingerbread man, and it’s then that she gets an idea. it may not help the problems she’s been having lately, but it may at least help her get it out of her system, and so she asks them, ❝ how many am i allowed to make, by the way ?? ❞ she starts on their first one regardless, looking up at shiloh’s as she does. ❝ i think it looks better than anything i can do, ❞ she says with a laugh. ❝ mine will probably just end up looking like blobs with lopsided faces on them. ❞
is there anyone here that you remember a lot, even if you don’t have specific memories about them yet?
❝ i… i remember names. i think names are a big thing. i remembered felix earlier, and there’s the name ingrid, who i think might be… well, maybe i’m wrong. i know i referred to someone as ❛ his highness ❜, but i don’t — i don’t remember his actual name. there are a few other names, too, but the ones that stands out the most is mercedes, or mercie. that pops up a lot, and i think they’re the same person. gilbert, too, but i… something about that last one… upsets me. ❞
how has remembering everything been for you so far?
❝ well, i know i haven’t remembered everything. i know that my father left when i was young, something about… the tragedy of duscur. i don’t know what that is, just that it’s bad — i mean, it’s in the name. i know i went after my father in some way, got into a school. and more importantly, i remember my real name. there are some familiar faces, too, and i’m starting to remember their names, but… if these people are who i think they are… then i’ve met them here in town. do they remember me ?? if they do, i wish… i wish they’d just told me. ❞
Alrighty , babes !! Honesty Day has OFFICIALLY started , so what you may now do is reblog this post with links to your characters’ inboxes , and then send out questions to EVERYONE else you see participating !! Please just keep in mind to make sure you send everyone you possibly can questions , and also keep a balance between serious & joke questions so everyone gets an equal share of chuckles and thoughts. I hope y'all have fun !!
SHE DOESN’T REMEMBER where the doll comes from. she has just always had it, even if she doesn’t always see it. it sits in the back of her closet most days, gathering dust, and it’s only when she cleans her room that she finds it again. the mystery still plaguing her, she reaches out and —
she’s twelve, she thinks. somewhere around that. she clutches the doll to her chest as she stares out her bedroom window ( this is her bedroom ?? but everything is so vintage, and this isn’t her house, but it also is ), waiting for someone to arrive on the front lawn. she doesn’t care where he’s been — though she has her suspicions — she just wants him back. he needs to be with her and her mother.
a knock on her door. she already knows who it is without looking behind her. her mother’s voice is soft and sweet, but also lower than her own, but it’s soothing, even when she says, ❝ annette, would you like to read a book with me ?? ❞
( that’s mum, annie thinks. she’s dressed like she’s from a fairy tale, but that’s definitely her. )
she shakes her head. ❝ no, mother. ❞ her voice is small. smaller than she has ever felt before.
there are stacks of books beside her, two open before her, makeshift bookmarks stuffed between the pages. a blank scroll sits on her lap and she readies her quill. as intelligent as she is, there is no way in seiros’ name — ( wait, who is seiros ?? ) — she will be able to memorise every single word in these books.
determination runs through her veins as she writes until her hand cramps. she rubs her wrist and looks around the library she sits in. candles line the wall, illuminating the room in a soft, orange glow.
( candles ?? when is this ?? medieval times ?? )
she spots something out of the corner of her eye and, when she realises what ( or rather, who ) it is, she grins and waves them over.
the walls are tall and the crowd is bustling. she didn’t realise just how many people would be coming to garreg mach at the beginning of the school year.
( school ?? garreg mach ?? )
her mother isn’t with her. she didn’t want her to come in case they saw her father too soon. even now, she scans the crowd for a familiar face with aged lines, for red hair that matches her own. nothing. it doesn’t surprise her. nothing would be that easy.
she carries her bags by herself. a mage she may be, but axe-wielding runs in her family, and so she has enough muscle for the most mundane of tasks. searching for that familiar face becomes less pressing the more she looks around the monastery. the architecture is beautiful and she can smell something roasting in the dining hall when she passes by. several students are gathered by the pond, pointing at something swimming below the surface, one of them trying to grab it with their bare hands.
she is thankful that her room is on the ground floor. it makes life easier for her morning routine. she gets to work by pulling items out of her bag, tripping over a stray book pile in the process. when she stands up, she finds herself directly in front of the mirror.
( annie stares. she isn’t in control of this person, but she stares, because this is her. younger, with a more youthful hairstyle, but definitely her. )
❝ alright, when i call your name, please respond so i know that you’re here. ❞
the professor calls names, a few recognisable, but she doesn’t raise her head until she hears them say, ❝ annette ❞ and she responds with a loud, ❝ here !! ❞
( roll call continues, and annie can only watch from her seat. class proceeds normally, but the lecture is drowned out before it even begins — )
— she blinks. the hand that holds the doll loosens its grip and the offending item drops to the ground with soft thump. it doesn’t register. she takes a step back, then another, and another until she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. she turns to ensure that she’s still her, that she’s still annie nix and she’s right in castle town where she belongs.
but she isn’t annie nix, and this isn’t where she belongs. she knows that now. her gaze wanders to the doll on the floor and a surge of emotion consumes her as she remembers just who made it. this is it. this is the only thing she has from her past life.
she knows now. she knows who she is and where she comes from. what her true name is.
— IT’S COLD ; IT’S COLD BUT SHILOH HAS A JOB TO DO , the warmth coming from the box of warm , fresh gingerbread cookies beside them as they stand outside the bakery. It’s a gingerbead cookie frosting stand - for the small price of five dollars , one can buy and frost a large gingerbread version of themselves. Shiloh came up with the idea , sure , but they don’t want to admit it. And now they’re standing outside , freezing , before they spot the redheaded muffin girl from a few weeks prior - the one that talked with them about the stolen items.
It’s a nervous clear of the throat as they call over , holding up an unfrosted gingerbread man in their plastic gloved hands - ❝ H-Hello ; do you want to make your own gingerbread man for five dollars ?? ❞ It’s a nervous , pleading smile. Maybe because it’s so BORING standing out here by themselves , especially with no business.
SHE DOESN’T HAVE work today, and so her usual distraction from her problems is gone for the next twenty-four hours. it does mean she was able to sleep in, however, and that is always something she appreciates, especially in the colder months when she just wants to curl up in her bed beneath the warm covers. the only reason she has left her room at all is because her mother wanted her to go grocery shopping, and she rarely says no to her mother’s requests, especially nowadays. the least she can do is help out wherever possible, she thinks.
while her original intention was to make a beeline for the supermarket where she knows there has to be some sort of heating, she can’t help but stop when addressed. she is always glad to see a familiar face and smiles when they offer the little gingerbread man. surely the groceries can wait just a little, right ?? ❝ sure, i don’t see why not. ❞ and besides, she loves sweets.
WITH EVERY NEW ENCOUNTER with annie , the blonde finds herself hoping that maybe the redhead will have a new dream to share ; a dream that she knows to be a memory , one that her friend cannot quite place . it makes her wonder whether or not she should be the one to help put those puzzle pieces together , or if the right thing to do would be to simply wait . waiting seems to be all isolde has been doing since waking up in castle town . it’s almost like a game — a terrible , painful game .
nevertheless , isolde listens . after all , the surest way to losing a game is by losing hope , and the blonde refuses to waver . a knight would never waver . ❝ missing something … yes , i do miss quite a few things these days , ❞ a pause , the corners of her lips curling upwards into a faint smile . the redhead’s efforts to turn her into the most fabulous of knights were surely missed . ❝ but i suppose it’s not in the same way as you might , annie . um … is there anything i can do to help ? ❞ she inquires , knowing better than to start blabbering about the past . she could never do such a thing , not without annie’s permission .
ANNIE DESPERATELY WANTS to share what she’s seen, she really does, but she is also absolutely terrified of being told she’s being delusional, that there is no weight or substance to any of the things she’s seeing. she is past the point of thinking that it is all just a dream, but that begs the question of what it is, exactly. she still isn’t any closer to figuring that out. part of her wants to ask isolde, to see if she knows anything, but she fears driving her away if her inkling is wrong.
her curiosity gets the best of her and she asks, ❝ like what ?? ❞ before she can stop herself. ❝ unless it’s too personal. ❞ she adds it as an afterthought, knowing that some things are too close to the chest to share. the question of whether isolde can help has her biting her lip in an attempt to stop herself from blurting out one of the many questions she has. she looks down at her hands as though they can provide her with insight. ❝ it’s... hard to explain. and it’s hard to believe, anyway. ❞ the laugh she lets out is almost mocking, aimed only at herself.
&& — THIS IS FEELING A BIT LIKE DEJA VU NOW , this exact scenario playing out in the back of their mind as it unfolds before them. are either of them really that different if that can happen once again ?? nothing feels like it’s that different from before , at least , not here - they’re both still the same , clearly , as much as they’re unsure that’s a good thing or not , but at this moment in time they can decide the former … after all , it meant she was still here. maybe not the same , but she definitely lingered , her personality staying uniquely consistent , warm as can be despite any pain that might be lurking beneath the surface.
“ you were trying to be nice ?? ” they roll their eyes slightly , burying their hands in the pocket of their hoodie. “ i do believe you and all , i really don’t know if you can do any wrong but i’m almost positive you weren’t being so innocent right there. ” there’s another pause , a smirk now twisting on the corner of their mouth. “ sadly , though , it’s permanently etched into my memories. ”
& it really is. a mountain of sweets , as well as steaks and cakes… they could hear her singing it so vividly still - they’ve always been able to. they stop in their tracks when she does , however , looking around for a moment before finally meeting her gaze once more. “ are … you good ?? ”
the emotions that flood through their veins next are ones they’d expect , an urge to protect her in case whatever was going on along with the urge to run in case they were that pain. they hadn’t always been this flighty , but damn , they weren’t going to sit around if they were hurting her in some way.
THERE IS A part of her that craves familiarity, and she has her suspicions that it comes from the gaping hole in her heart left by her father’s abandonment, but she can’t be sure. for all she knows, it could simply be another side-effect of the dreams and visions she’s been experiencing, or maybe it was always there and the dreams are simply amplifying it. either way, she seeks to be in the company of those who make her feel this way, and they are definitely one of them. she doesn’t think she will ever say anything, though, simply because it’s so embarrassing. no one needs to know how deep her insecurities go.
she gives them a side-eye, though she can’t help but wonder how they can sound so sure that she is capable of doing no wrong, perhaps even more sure than she is of herself. still, that doesn’t spare them from her ( rather tamed for now ) wrath. ❝ you have no way to prove otherwise, ❞ she says, holding her head up high. she has to, being so short and all. ❛ permanently etched into my memories ❜ is a phrase that once again tugs at that feeling of familiarity, so much so that at first all she can do is puff her cheeks out in defiance until she says, ❝ then un-etch them. ❞
she doesn’t realise she has stopped completely until they say something, and she quickly smiles and shakes her head. ❝ yeah, i’m good. just trying to decide what i should get. ❞ she turns her attention to the food on display, hand resting on her stomach when it rumbles. ❝ there are plenty of options. ❞ when she moves forward to take a closer look, she smiles back at them. ❝ what are you gonna get ?? ❞
