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connan-l · 2 years ago

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Meandering Souls - Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Nellie Rhodes & Isadora Rhodes, Mell Rhodes & Nellie Rhodes

Summary: Until their souls cross path once more in the boundless sphere of fate.

Nellie’s mother gave her a mirror as a present for her fifth birthday. She’d always loved looking at her reflection with it, until she doesn’t.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @fata10thanni prompts:

Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany

Day 3: Door 3 - In the Shadows]

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: Happy 10th Anniversary, FataMoru! And happy Fata Week as well!

Shh, I know, I know, I’m late, but listen. Better late than never.

So, this was written for the Fata Week in celebration of… well, Fata’s 10th anniversary, from those prompts: on Tumblr and Twitter. Ideally I really wanted to wrote a little something for each of the 10 prompts, but I dunno if I’ll actually be able to make it. Even if I do it’ll probably take some time cause for some reason I have zero energy lately and it feels like a struggle for me to write. But well I’ll still try! We’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, here’s the first prompt for Door 1. This takes place, well, before, during and after Door 1, so spoilers for that as well as for the short story related to it, ‘A Slow-Killing Poison.’

And oh, yeah, in case you were wondering: the names used here for Nellie and Mell’s parents, Isadora and Barnard, are their actual official names; they were given in the guidebook as well as in one untranslated short story.

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When she turned five years old, Nellie’s mother offered her a huge mirror for her birthday.

It was beautiful — all golden and silver and shining, with gorgeous, delicate flowers carved in it (not roses, sadly, but those lilies were pretty enough that Nellie tolerated them). She was so small at the time that when she stood in front of it she could only see the top of her head and two amber eyes peeking out in the bottom of the glass, but even so she couldn’t help but stare at her reflection excitedly every time she passed in front of it.

“You really like this mirror, don’t you, Nellie?”

Her mother Isadora asked her this once with a soft, content smile, as she looked at the little girl spun around right before the mirror.

“Yup! Like that, I can look at how cute I am every day!”

Isadora laughed — and Nellie didn’t know why because she was very serious — then gently caressed her daughter’s flaxen hair.

“You know, mirrors are very important for women.”

“To help us making us pretty!” The child exclaimed proudly.

“Well, there’s that,” her mother conceded. “But it also helps us to remember who we truly are.”

Nellie didn’t understood that. Isadora looked a little strange saying this, but just when she was about to press her further, she noticed Mell’s silhouette popping up at the door and her face beamed.

“Dearest Mell! Have you seen the mirror Mother gave me? Hey, hey, have you?”

She dragged her brother in front of the mirror — because he was slightly taller than Nellie, unlike her his entire head could be seen in the reflection — and then she excitedly told him all about all the other presents she’d gotten. Mell just smiled gently at her, nodding quietly, like he always did.

And so she completely forgot all about this conversation, until one night a few weeks later when she went to find her mother in her bedchamber. Nellie should be asleep already at this time, but she had a nightmare and couldn’t stand to stay alone in her bed anymore. Usually, she would’ve gone to Mell to comfort her, but both he and their father Barnard weren’t home tonight; they went out of town because of some complicated business matters and Barnard had wanted his son with him for some reason. They wouldn’t be back until a couple of days, so unfortunately only the women of the house were here tonight and she had to settle for her mother instead of her brother.

It wasn’t like Nellie disliked Isadora or anything. She very much loved her, in fact; just as much as she loved her father. Both of them were very kind and always complimented her and gave her everything she wanted.

But… they still weren’t Mell.

Her mother was quite affectionate, but she also strictly scolded Nellie whenever she did anything little girls weren’t supposed to. Her father always bought her the most beautiful dresses and dolls, but he hated letting Nellie play outside or forced her to talk and be polite to men and boys she had no interest in.

Mell never expected anything like that from her. He never tried to restrict her. He always listened to her in such a genuine, attentive way that her parents just never did.

With Mell, she was always free, and she never felt that way with anyone else.

Isadora was sitting down in front of a mirror in her gorgeous embroidered white nightgown, while her long, wavy blond hair — of a very distinct fairer color than the rest of the family — fell on her shoulders elegantly.

Her mother was very beautiful. The most beautiful woman on earth even, in Nellie’s eyes. She really wanted to be just like her when she’d be grownup.

“Mother,” she murmured while trotting over to her, and Isadora got startled when she felt her daughter’s presence and her arms wrap around her waist.

“Oh my. Nellie, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nightmare,” the girl mumbled in her mother’s clothes. “Can’t sleep.”

“Oh, poor dear.” The woman grabbed her daughter right away and put her on her lap, gently caressing her hair in a soothing manner. Nellie buried her face in her mother’s neck, letting herself get lulled by her warmth and faint citrus perfume.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Don’t remember.”

“I see…”

Isadora then fell quiet. After a moment of complete silence, Nellie lifted her head and stared curiously at her. Her mother… looked strangely sad. She stared fixedly into the mirror, her features stretched in clear sorrow and nostalgia.

She did that, sometimes. She’d go quiet and all melancholic, lost in thoughts.

Nellie never knew what she must be thinking about when it happened, but she never dared to ask; as if doing so would break some kind of taboo.

That’s when she suddenly remembered what her mother had told her, when she’d offered her the golden mirror for her birthday.

“…Does it help you remember?” She asked.

Her mother blinked, then looked at her oddly. “Huh?”

“You said it the other day. You said mirrors help women remember and see us for who we really are.”

Isadora’s expression cleared in understanding, but then something more complicated spread on her face.

“Oh, right…”

She looked up into the glass once again, and stared. Nellie wondered what she must be seeing, because it didn’t seem to be her reflection.

“Yes, I suppose it does. Whenever I look at it, I can’t help but remember him, and her—”

“Him and her?”

Isadora smiled sadly, grief filling her eyes, and then she shook her head.

“Yes. It helps me remember them, and then, it helps me remember my sins.”

Nellie’s eyes widened with surprise. “Mother, you sinned?!”

‘Sin,’ in Nellie’s mind, was when she didn’t listen to her governess or broke a vase accidentally or went running around in the garden without being careful and dirtied her clothes. But those were all things she could never imagine her beautiful, elegant, always perfect mother doing. However, when her mother looked at her and replied, her answer had nothing to do with what she’d expected.

“I fell in love.”

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Nellie took the habit to stop and look at herself in her mirror every morning.

With each month, each years that passed, she could see herself grow up little by little in the looking-glass; her hair became longer, her silhouette refined, her chest a bit bigger.

By the time she reached fourteen, Nellie looked almost like a grown woman, almost like her mother — Isadora and Barnard and every adult around her always made sure to compliment her on this, on how pretty she’d became, how she’d have no trouble finding a good suitor with how beautiful of a young lady she now was.

But instead of making her happy like she’d imagined it would as a child, it started to fill her with dread.

The less she looked like a little girl, and the more it was harder to deny the reality that was catching up to her dreamy, ideal life.

Nellie wasn’t stupid, contrary to what most people around her seemed to think; she was well-aware her sheltered life where she could just spend her days playing around with her dearest Mell would inevitably come to an end.

She’d have to get married, leave Mell, have children.

The simple thought of it got her stomach tied up in knots. It made her want to run away and never look back; but she was too scared to do so. Not all alone, anyway.

Nellie hated being alone more than anything in the world.

That was why she couldn’t bear the perspective of getting separated from Mell, because he was the only one who truly loved her for who she was — but no matter how much she wished it, she couldn’t bend reality just because she wanted to.

At some point, she knew she’ll have to wake up from the dream — and she knew it’ll hurt more than anything.

And that point seemed to grow nearer and nearer as her appearance kept changing.

She didn’t want to grow up. She wanted to stay a little girl forever, so that she didn’t have to part away from Mell, so that she didn’t have to get married, so that she didn’t have to get locked up in that cage everyone around wanted to fit her into.

Unlike Mell, who had the privilege to keep meandering in life however he pleased, Nellie would be forced to wake up brutally.

(And maybe, just maybe, despite how much she loved him, there was a little part of Nellie who resented him for it. Just a little.)

She used to love looking into that mirror, but now it only made her feel ugly.

Maybe her mother’s words from all those years ago were true, after all.

Mirrors were there to help them remember who they truly were.

But Nellie didn’t want to.

“Oh my? Why did you cover it up?”

Isadora stared strangely at the big mirror, which was entirely hidden by a large piece of white sheet Nellie had gotten somewhere.

“Mother,” she said, softly, without looking at the other woman. “What do I look like?”

Isadora probably didn’t understand her real question, because she just smiled gently at her.

“You look beautiful of course, my darling. Soon you’ll be as pretty as all the noble ladies of the court.”

Nellie’s chest twisted. It hurt, even though it was stupid of her to feel that way.

She’d already knew her mother would say that, after all, because that was what everyone always said.

Her mother, her father, all of the servants and nobles and anyone glancing at her.

In the end, even her dearest Mell thought that way.

“I’d much rather having been born ugly.”

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The curtain kept flying up under the breeze in the room.

There was never any sound.

Or at least, there wouldn’t be from an outsider’s perspective, but to Nellie, the bedchamber was always filled with laughters and cheerful high-pitched voices.

Her brother, not much taller than the bed, was always next to her, reading and smiling — and Nellie was happy just staying by his side, occasionally trying to childishly bother him away from the story.

Mell would sigh at her exasperatedly, of course, but he’d never get angry at her.

Mell had never been able to truly stay angry at her for long.

Because he knew it’d hurt Nellie, and Mell could never hurt Nellie.

The door suddenly opened.

It took some time for Nellie to truly realize it; but even then she didn’t stray her attention away from her beloved brother. She wanted to give all of her attention to him and only him.

The person sat next to her bed. She had long, pretty blond hair, and a long time ago she probably would’ve been beautiful, but now she only looked ashed and exhausted.

It took a long time for Nellie to realize that this was her mother.

When was the last time Nellie had spoken to her mother?

“My darling, can you hear me?”

Her voice felt barely audible, like a dream’s whisper. A complete shadow from what her mother’s gentle voice used to sound like.

There was a sigh, some awkward gesture. A larger hand grabbing hers, holding her, caressing her skin.

“I know I haven’t come to see you in a long time… I apologize. I have been a very terrible mother. I…”

Fingers tightened their grip on hers, but Nellie couldn’t bother to care about it.

Nothing and no one could reach her, not anymore.

Only her dearest brother stuck in the dream mattered.

“Nellie, honey, I’m sorry. None of this would’ve happened if your father and I had not… made so many mistakes and actually paid attention to you. But I…” A pause; a shaky breath. “Please, my darling, it is not too late. We can still fix this. You can still… you can still come back to us. Please? Nellie?”

It sounded like someone was begging desperately, but it barely registered to Nellie.

The voice slowly faded away in a corner of her consciousness, words stopping making sense.

She looked away from her brother, and instead stared straight in front of her.

The mirror she’d gotten as a gift at five years old stood there, uncovered.

Her reflection smiled back at her, and she giggled.

She’d never been happier to look so ugly.

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docholligay · 1 year ago

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House in Fata Morgana: The First Door--1603

I have never reviewed a visual novel before, but @iscahwynn made me a very generous offer and a long line of patience, knowing that we are trying something very new. To that end: Please don’t spoil me for the game at all! If you are reading this, I have only gotten through the part written above, and I don’t want to be corrected, even if I’m wrong, even if I’ve missed something, i don’t want to have anything confirmed or denied, and I don’t need any trigger warnings or extraneous explanation. Iscah would like my pure, naive experience of the game. Thank you!

Non-Spoilery: Holy shit, I don’t think I have consumed a visual novel with this kind of fervor. In fact, the only other visual novel I think of where I was like, ‘I have to keep reading what happens” was We Know the Devil, and while I would say that game whups on this one prose-wise (I can’t relate to a lot of what people love about WNTD, but holy shit was the prose some of the most beautiful game stuff I have ever read. I wished the whole time it was a short story or novella instead. Still do!) this one has a lot of plot driving through it and the writing is also very strong--I am used to a certain amount of ‘anime gotta anime’ writing styles, and there is none of that here.

Spoilers below

I love a story that rewards patience. I could see some people saying that this moves too slowly, but I like to read a Meaty Tome, and so it doesn’t bother me to have to deal with a certain amount of setup, especially because I know this is a collection of short stories, sure, but it’s a collection of short stories taht are all driving at an ending. It might not even be fair to call them short stories so much as…episodes, maybe? I don’t know, they are connected but years apart. I guess i’m actually spitballing too much for having actually not played beyond chapter one.

So i am 98.6% sure we are in England (please don’t tell me!) Given the references to the Thirty Years’ War, the Golden Age, and winter being a rainy season, all packed into one. Also Rhodes is a British name. I might be wrong but I would be surprised if I were.

How do I organize this “progress reviewlet” or whatever I want to call it? Let’s just go with the flow.

Again, I love that this is unvoiced. It makes the game read so much more like a book to me, which makes me consume it voraciously, and also doesn’t take me out of the moment. Intensely aware that I am in the minority here, but when I’m reading something that I think probably takes place in late Elizabethan England, and I’m hearing Japanese, it takes me out of the immersion and it’s more like watching an anime, which is fine but doesn’t light up the same center of my brain, generally. Actually, the same would be true if it were English. I can’t mainline the story and let it play out in my mind the way it does when I read it. I read this like I do a visual novel, I barely pay attention to the art except in the “where is everyone standing” way, and that’s not even very helpful for this. So in reading it like a book, I feel like I saw Mell slap Nellie, I feel like I saw the light cross the White Haired Girl’s face as she failed to strangle Mell. It just makes the whole thing more immersive for me.

Speaking of Nellie, what a wild ride that was. I mean, we knew something was going to be up with Nellie’s level of spoiled when we heard that they removed the thorns from the roses in the garden so she would never be pricked. In that moment, we learn something about the fact that Nellie doesn’t understand what consequences are, she never learns that the things we may want can hurt us. And so she keeps going for the exact things she wants, and she has no sense of danger or of the need for pragmatism, or anything beyond the desires and whims of a spoiled child.

It truly says something about the quality of the writing that pretty much my most hated squick came up and all I could do was go, ‘Oh girl what happens next” and just kept clicking. I mean, the game very much tips its hand to it, it is not trying to shock you because that’s not the sort of game it is. It wants you to understand that this is who Nellie is and of course this is how she’s going to act.

But for as monstrous as she is, you feel for her, or I do, when she says, not wrongly, that she was only ever, a “a doll for the family to play with”

The idea of paintings being alive, of being changed as they are painted, that really stuck with me, and I know the painting was the small mystery within the bigger ones contained within the game, I can’t quite get anywhere with it, but I do agree that paintings have a quality of life to them. This is why it could be some future girl, it could be Nellie, it could be another person in another time.

So witches. Let’s talk about this. I know that we have a lot of cross talk about the white haired girl, and if the white haired girl is the witch she takes herself to be or if she’s a hidden princess. And then we have the maid. These two are the unnamed characters within the story thus far, and I know they must be unnamed for a reason, but I didn’t really take the witch thing on its face until the rose turned in her hand.

Oh, Doc, so you think there’s a real witch, and you think it’s the white haired girl? One, yes, I suppose I do and two, no, i suppose I don’t. Remember, the Maid is with her, and I’m also remembering the that the title of this game is The House at Fata Morgana, and I also know, being the one thing I know from the start being about fatas morgana, that they supposedly come from Morgan Le Fay, A WITCH.

So, I’m wondering if the maid isn’t the witch, and if she isn’t creating all of this as an illusion, and IF she is creating all of this as an illusion, how much of it is the facts of that matter? Or the truth? Those are different things, but related. Is it all created of whole cloth?

I mean, i feel like the game of the story has to clearly be about the White Haired girl and the Maid, I can look at a title card--OH SHIT AM I THE WHITE HAIRED GIRL?? (Please don’t tell me but do put a pin in it) that would make sense, we’re both the two unnamed characters, we’re on the title card. Hm.

Is it better to know something, or to be happy? I mean, this is basically the core question and thesis of this segment, and it seems to lean heavily toward no. Everyone was happier not knowing, except, i do want to point out, Nellie. I’m not arguing she’d be happy knowing, she’s not, but I do want to say she would be UNHAPPY in either circumstance.

I don’t agree with the maid that his error was his kindness. His kindness was not his fuckup. It was his desire, and his drive, that came outside of any thought of the family (especially rich considering how he lectures Nellie) to HAVE this girl who captured him in her own flame. She didn’t even mean to, like the candle means no harm to the moth. But kindness, no, kindness was not the issue.

But I do love when she says that we have to follow the paths we’ve begun to trod down. He can’t change any of it, and so he has to go forward.

In all, I liked this section, I have no idea how it will stack up against the others but I can see it laying building blocks for the future of the story.

While being cautious of spoilers, please, if you have any questions, i’ll try to answer!

#Doc plays games #commission review #doc plays the house in fata morgana

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