#palais mermonia
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genshinmp3 · 1 year ago
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Suddenly the Rain Stops from the New Character Web Event for Neuvillette HOYO-MiX
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ag40249 · 1 year ago
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problem solved👍🏻
starting my december with meme doodles🦦✨
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abysschildd-sims · 1 year ago
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Palais Mermonia
under construction ~
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bonjin-no-kamera · 1 year ago
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The life of Melusines
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vila-of-burning-waters · 7 months ago
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<From x>
"I hope that the trinkets I sent Miss Traveler and Miss Paimon helped! A bunch of ingredients and a pretty orange and green water rock that's cool on my membrane... Mint for Mel and Seagrass-stuffed Tidalga for me make a great quick meal when I'm on an adventure, after all."
Vila grins, looking at the city and getting a metal plate out of her bag that she carefully wraps around Mel... It covers the bottom of the Slime and seems heat-resistant, since it hasn't started melting.
"There we go! Now you can join me in the city too, Mel! Gotta thank Miss Estelle for making this when I visit Muirne and Sedene and Liath..."
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redthemarten · 25 days ago
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He just... gets a little overexcited when talking about his puppy is all... 👉👈💦
Kind of a followup to [this].
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hypostatic-oath · 11 months ago
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Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry
I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.
Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.
SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW
Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.
Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.
A shimmering light crosses the sky.
Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.
Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?
That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.
She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?
Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...
It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.
She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.
She can still hear you calling.
The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.
It's both relieving and heartbreaking.
At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.
Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.
He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.
Wait, Furina!
She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.
She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.
She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...
She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.
Foçalors, come home.
Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.
The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.
No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.
Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."
It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.
But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.
"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"
The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.
It hurts.
With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.
The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.
So she does what she can do.
Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.
When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.
She's sorry.
She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."
The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?
Furina still feels like it might be hers.
The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.
Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.
Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.
She considers it.
She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.
She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.
Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.
She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.
Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.
She's on trial.
________
She's crying.
She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.
If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.
She doesn't witness your relief.
Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.
You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.
Not about her.
Not after knowing the truth.
You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.
Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.
So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.
You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.
You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.
After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.
The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.
"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.
"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.
"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."
Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.
"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.
"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."
The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.
There is so much to do...
_________
Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.
Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?
Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.
She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."
Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.
Furina. Come home.
You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.
Now, she simply looks up.
"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.
You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.
The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.
Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.
You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.
You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.
Welcome home, Furina.
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welcometoteyvat · 10 months ago
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@apologems asked for wanderer & furina (among others) for the random characters prompt. I was gonna post all the pairs in your ask together but I love instant validation so they're getting split up lol. here, have too many words. feedback deeply appreciated!! <3
———
Furina opens her eyes to blank, vast emptiness. The cream tiled floor of the Palais Mermonia stretches on and on beneath her, the white-veined marble mirror smooth. It reflects the dismal cloudiness outside—if there even is an “outside” in this strange space. She wonders idly whether she could ask Neuvillette to cheer up a bit, to make the dreary grayness go away, or whether he would even listen to her requests like he used to. Rain seems likely.
She supposes she should walk around and find a way out of this place, even though it doesn’t seem very urgent. Nobody needs her to take care of anything now—they won’t be waiting for her return. Her footsteps echo against the marble—one, two, three—one, two, three. Is it possible to dance a waltz with just herself and the empty silence? Oh, but there’s someone a ways away, over there. Maybe they could dance with her, and it won’t be as lonely.
The figure in the distance is dressed all in blue, wearing a wide brimmed hat with strips of fabric dangling from the edge. They turn when she comes close, and their eyes meet; it’s a young man, with red eyeshadow, a bored glare, and puffy cheeks on a pretty face. It’s rather striking how he looks so sharp yet soft, swooping curves and hard angles, all at once.
“So, whose funeral is this?”
“What? Where?” A funeral? But she didn’t see a coffin…
“The dead body’s right there. Are you walking around with your eyes closed?” He sneers, and gestures carelessly to the bare floor in front of her.
“There’s… nothing there.” That catches the hat-guy off-kilter. He narrows his eyes, and his gaze is like a quick knife.
“Don’t play dumb, idiot. It’s quite obviously you, isn’t it? Look at that white vest and suit.”
“I—what?” There’s really nothing there. She’s definitely alive, too—no dead double in sight. But—what is he saying about a white vest? Unless… this is one of those fantasy children’s novels where everything is just a rabbit-hole dream? Just in case, Furina blinks a couple times. She opens her eyes, and—huh?!
“Same stupid rooster-frill tailcoat, small blue top hat, frivolous accessories, mascara eyelashes; the only thing different is the long jellyfish h—”
“Wait! I can see someone, but it’s not me. It’s a child, wearing all white with a purple veil.”
And she expects him to scoff again, because maybe she really is seeing things, maybe her acting has gone a little too far, but instead, Hat-guy blanches. He throws her another sharp, piercing glance, seems to find nothing—and then—and then, a terribly familiar smile creeps onto his face. The sight of it makes her bones ache and her eyes fill with inexplicable tears.
“Well, if that’s what you see, I suppose this is a funeral for both of us. Hah, how curious.” His voice has turned into sandpaper and tea's bitter dregs, scratchy with loathing and cynicism and absurdity. Now he's turning towards her, and in his fierce gaze she sees... her old self, lying there on the cold not-Palais floor. Her eyes stare unseeingly at nothing, and that horrible, wretched smile is frozen on her lips. Furina flinches. She wants to throw up, to pluck out her eyes, to claw at her face until it bleeds. She looks away instead. She knows that Hat-guy is watching her and is grateful he doesn't comment, and when she finally meets his eyes again, she is grateful too that his face is carefully blank. He simply offers Furina his hand and says, “Shall I do the honors?”
She nods, and takes his hand.
A fire blazes up immediately, engulfing the dead child and his purple veil. Furina watches as its clothes disappear in licks of flame, as its doll joints are exposed, then stripped away, until nothing remains besides a pile of ash, and a small, blackened kernel that might have once been a heart. She wonders what Hat-guy saw—a little Oceanid, evaporating into nothingness at the final curtain call? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. It’s past now, regardless.
Furina doesn’t know when it starts to rain. The last embers have long since blackened when she realizes that the downpour is soaking her clothes, running down her cheeks. Water drips from the edge of Hat-guy’s hat, dampening his knee-high socks. Yet he makes no move to leave, so neither does she.
They continue to stand there, long after their clothes are soaked all the way through. Two false gods, drenched, alone.
———
a/n: idk whether I handled their emotional states correctly please give feedback if ooc. this entire thing is just "it's about THE NARRATIVE PARALLELS" and i dont even know whether it's the interp I wanted. extra ending thoughts include this wouldn't happen in canon bc i think wanderer is already at a place where he's partly fixed. maybe emotional closure. idk idk. people who think more about furina and scara should give me your theses on them. and of course, if you're wondering What Even Happened In This Fic, don't worry, so am I. didn't stick the ending but that's ok
also on ao3 ig
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ladyfocalors · 1 year ago
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Edit: Requests are now closed!
I don't want to enter writer's block but I am barren of ideas so I am opening requests for 3 days. Do look through the request rules before requesting.
Characters: Lyney, Furina, Kazuha, Nilou, Ayaka, Aether
Also please bare with my inconsistent schedule, I am very busy.
Thank you so much for your patience!
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iwantescapism13 · 1 year ago
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Neuvillette had walked the halls and examined the place in its entirety. Palais Mermonia was quiet… save for his footsteps. The sound of his heeled boots echoed in the halls. He looked straight ahead, not even bothering to move his eyes around to search for any sort of presence. It was to be expected, he thought. After everything that had occurred, the human staff of Palais Mermonia must be creating a ruckus outside to celebrate their overcoming of the long-destined prophecy. The Melusines, on the other hand, must be out there helping any survivors. It was a massive victory for the people of Fontaine. But…
…that wasn’t until she had to take her life.
He found it as the most unjust punishment. Unfair. And certainly absurd. For the sins of Egeria, the successor had to be the one to make the ultimate sacrifice - to come up with a solution to protect her own people.
Was it just?
Neuvillette was not one whom anyone would call “fully attuned to one’s own emotions”, but he knew that he didn’t have to be to understand the unnamed sorrow that he felt once the Indemnitium-filled sword crashed down onto Foçalors. His hand reached for her, wanting to save her from a sentence he never agreed to and felt was unnecessary.
But it had to be done.
‘Did it?’ he questioned himself. ‘One sacrifice to save hundreds, thousands, millions. One sacrifice to deceive the Heavenly Principles. And Foçalors wasn’t even the one who committed the sin. Was it… worth it? And what about--’
His monologue was cut short by a sound of a thud - like someone had tripped and fell to the floor - and a voice cursing under their breath. It was then followed by a soft whimper. It seemed like whoever it was had hurt themselves on some type of wooden furniture. He only knew one such person that would react exactly that.
“Furina…?” he slowly made his presence known. His head went downwards as he saw the said girl kneeling down and massaging her knee.
“N-N-Neuvillette?!” Although in a little bit of discomfort from whatever injury she sustained, Furina stood up, dusted herself, and cleared her throat. “W-What are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be rejoicing out there with the others now that the prophecy had come and gone?”
The mock trial that served to only get answers from her due to everyone’s desperation had definitely did a number on her. And yet, this child… this poor child… had not changed even a little. Her high-and-mighty posture and mannerism did not subside even after everything that she had gone through. He wondered whether he should be relieved.
“I could say the same thing to you.” he replied in respect to answering her questions.
“Well, I am… tired.” The tone at the beginning was not different from when she replied to him the first time. But the tone of the last word was something else. She looked downwards with a small smile on her face. “But I’m very glad to see that everyone in Fontaine is safe. Despite the prophecy being fulfilled, I mean. I guess… the trial that all of you had set up… was the very trial that I had been waiting for… all these years.”
He didn’t miss all of her words, even if the last sentence was muttered yet again. “‘Waiting for’?”
Furina smiled wistfully. Then proceeded to sigh heavily. “Forget it. It’s fine. Don’t mind me, I’m just exhausted.”
He had heard those words out of jest, out of childish whining, out of escaping certain duties. But not this time. He could feel the genuine exhaustion emanating from her sentence.
“Furina… you--”
“I’m sorry to cut this conversation short but I seriously couldn’t stress enough how tired I am right now. I’d like to rest, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. But before that, I’d like to ask you one thing…” He eyed the bunch of clothes that were scattered all around her bed, making a huge mess that he was sure would take about two Melusines to settle.
She seemed to understand the unworded question as she followed where his eyes were darting to. “Ah. It seems you’ve caught me. I’m… leaving Palais Mermonia.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Everyone’s perception of me has definitely changed. I do not wish to ruin it any further by continuing to pretend I’m special. I’m no one now. I don’t belong here.”
Neuvillette found it beyond absurd. “You belong here as much as every staff member, every Melusine; even as much as I, if not more. Nothing has truly changed. It is not necessary for you to vacate the premises just because you no longer bear the title of Archon.”
She laughed weakly. “You’re amusing, Monsieur Neuvillette. I’m very grateful for the offer to remain here but I can’t. I just… can’t.”
Emotions were not his strongest suit. He only knew how to present facts and evidence. And there was only one way he could try and explain.
“At the very least, allow me to tell you what had happened in the middle of the trial - before the All-Devouring Narwhal had appeared out of the Abyss.”
Furina’s facial expression slowly changed to that of interest. “More things happened before Mr. Tartaglia attacked the big whale thing?”
Neuvillette nodded once. “That is correct. I enlisted the help of Aether and Paimon to execute the gigantic beast.”
“Oh… I see.”
“But that is not what I want to tell you.”
“Well then, spit it out! You don’t need me to ask one by one--”
“It’s about Foçalors.”
Furina whipped her head around to look at him, her eyes went wide at the mention of the name. “W-What did you just say?!”
“I met her, Furina. Your divine self. After the sentencing was declared.”
“‘Mirror-me’...?” he heard her mutter under her breath.
“She had told me about your mission; that for 500 years, you must act like a god in order to fool the Heavenly Principles and save the people of Fontaine from the destined prophecy. And… for her to be able to sentence death upon herself.”
“W-What?! That… That can’t be! H-How could… how could mirror-me just…”
“I believe it was her entire plan all along. For you to keep up the act long enough to create a weapon to destroy the Hydro Throne… and… to bring back… what’s supposedly… rightfully mine.”
“‘Yours’? What are you talking about?”
“I am sure you are aware of my identity.”
Furina seemed to have caught on. “The Hydro Dragon Sovereign… of course…”
“But you are no longer bound by any duty. You are free now.”
“And the first thing I want to do is get out of here.”
“You still insist on leaving?”
“Neuvillette… I never really get to say this - and don’t you dare put this back to me in the future! - but I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done.”
Neuvillette was taken aback by her words.
“No. I…” He bowed in high respect, with his body bent 90-degrees. “I’m incredibly sorry… and… thank you very much.”
Furina was flustered and tried to pull him up. “S-Stop that! I… I don’t deserve to be praised for deceiving my people.”
Neuvillette didn’t budge, despite the desperate pulls from Furina to get him to stand up straight. “It was for the benefit of everyone. If no one is going to be grateful for your actions, then I will be on everyone’s behalf.”
“P-Please… stop that.” Slowly, Furina’s strength diminished. She held the side of her arm. “I… don’t want it.”
“Furina…?”
“In any case! I’ll be leaving Palais Mermonia and that’s that!” She turned to the pile of clothes on the floor and then to the bed, compiling a certain number on her arms and putting them in a luggage stowed at the side of the room. She zipped it shut. “I’m just gonna take these few clothes with me. As for the rest… you can give them away to whoever needs or wants them. If a Melusine can fit them, I don’t see why they shouldn’t flaunt it.”
“Furina--”
“Please don’t follow me. I… just want to be alone for now.”
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zhongrin · 1 year ago
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Hi I’m obsessed with the new judge character but I can’t fucking remember his name help
i think his name is uh
n... nuv... nue... nev... new-fillet i think /silly
neuvillette. his name is neuvillette lol
i can't blame you tho nonnie, i kept forgetting at first too but then i started remembering 'it's similar to new-fillet' and then eventually i remember his actual name
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genshinmp3 · 1 year ago
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Harmonia of Polysynodie from Fountain of Belleau Arcangelo Chen, HOYO-MiX
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cashewally-sarcastic · 9 months ago
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NB and Venti travel to Fontaine and NB falls in loves with sweets. They two of them are having so much fun splashing in the puddles (And Venti has made sure that they both have nice warm hotel rooms to to go back to when the sunsets). NB is like "huh i wonder why its raining so much" while Venti is trying his hardest to avoid Neuvelette. All the Melusines have this weird deja vu feeling around Venti dont know why. (They and Elynas can sense the Durin energy in it) (they are going to adopt this guy) (this is a threat) (Neuvelette is >:/ at all the Melusines staring at Venti. He thinks they feel threatened by him but in actually they are just curious)(Hydro dragon is a protective mama hen 😔)
They splash around in this fountain in the middle of the city:
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Also YES the melusines. Neuvillette "that bard god is threatening the melusines they keep staring they are SCARED." and the melusines are just. curious. (they wonder if venti is like them) (new friend? new sibling?) (why does Neuvillette not like him D:)
NB would probably get along with the melusines too, I think he'd be friends with Mamere :) Like yeah the melusines all say some weird stuff but also friend
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abysschildd-sims · 1 year ago
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Palais Mermonia
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a-yarn-of-purple-prose · 5 months ago
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Part of being in a videogame fandom is that people really go with the idea that no one ever changes clothes (because ingame the characters usually have the one skin so of course they wear hotpants to the church), but what really gets me is how no one is allowed to have manners
This is to say, gloves come off for meals. And hats come off indoors. And you take people's coat and bag when they come inside.
Regular politeness.
You are all so quick to describe characters removing their shoes when they walk into someone's home but they're always wearing their coats
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redthemarten · 3 months ago
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Been feeling kinda down all day and Wriolette is cheaper than therapy, so
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