"Miss?"
A gentle, masculine voice shimmered out of the dark. It had to be my doctor, bringing me back from the anesthesia-induced haze of surgery.
Why on earth would he call me miss? That was both too intimate and too impersonal. Besides, it’s kind of part of his job to at least know my name is Hanna.
"Miss, can you hear me?"
I rubbed my forehead. Blobs of light peeked through my eyelids. I felt…too light, like someone scooped out all my bones and guts and I was gonna float away. Thankfully, a warm hand was on my shoulder, anchoring me down on a soft…sofa? The smell of flowers and wood polish stuffed my head with cotton balls.
"Let me help you up. Easy, now. You struck your head very hard."
I’m at the hospital. Bits of my dreams are leaking into my senses, that’s all. Just like before, in the road with the carriage, and the woman…
"Your Highness, let me–"
"No, no, it’s alright! What are princes for but helping maidens?"
Why do I know that sentence?
My vision cleared. Instead of a sterile surgery room or even a modest, impersonal recovery den, I was in a lavish parlour, crowded with knick knacks and clashing patterned furniture, like I’d stumbled onto the Bridgerton set. And a blonde young man was right in front of me.
A weirdly familiar young man.
Oh.
Everything crashed into me. The literal crash itself, the puddles in the street, and that snide, wickedly gorgeous face sneering down at me from the carriage as it raced past…
Antoinette Delphine!
I bolted straight up. The Your Highness watching over me jumped back and hit a coffee table strewn with teacups; the parlour rang with the jangle of porcelain. I knew this parlour. I knew that mustachioed butler in the corner and the hodgepodge of different French and Germanic eras all thrown together into an autumn-toned backdrop, stuffed to the brim with the flowers that made up for much of Love Blooming’s marketing materials. I knew that young man with his uncommonly pure blue eyes. His blonde hair tousled just enough to be boyish and sweet, juuust enough to make you want to see who he could be if he loosened up his perfectly-pressed powder-blue suit.
Étienne Alarie.
This was phase two of the game’s prologue, where Marie–the protagonist–wakes up in the first love interest’s palace.
Probably satisfied that I wasn’t gonna keel over and break my face on the coffee table, a smiling Étienne skirted around it and sat on the sofa opposite me.
"It’s reassuring to see you awake, Sleeping Beauty."
Love Blooming’s crappy DS storage couldn’t handle more voice acting than an old Ace Attorney game: just the occasional sigh, gasp, or chuckle. And yet here was Étienne’s voice and every subtle French lilt within it.
I reached across the coffee table and poked his bare hand. He was warm.
Wait, wait-wait-wait.
The night before my surgery, I’d been so wound-up that (instead of crying all night) I wrote a whole oneshot on my phone in bed, and then posted it, un-beta’d, on Tumblr at 3 in the morning. Obviously, my subconscious was clinging to it, right?
Prince that he was, Étienne didn’t shake off my prodding. Instead, he lightly cupped his hand over mine and said, "You’re fortunate my staff saw that awful crash. The clinics are all closed at this hour, but–"
"But they knew you’d want your personal physician to check me over." My voice wasn’t my own and it tripped on the way out of my mouth.
His blue eyes grew wide. "Oh. Yes, Miss, that’s absolutely the case."
This body was shorter and slimmer than mine. Black bangs kept tumbling in front of my face, and the hand that brushed them away had longer fingers and nails, so I nearly took my eye out in the process. The only thing keeping me from running around the room and screaming What the hell! WHAT THE HELL! was how I’d probably land flat on my face.
Even if he was kinda a basic beginner’s choice, Étienne was a fan favourite. Seeing his warm, easy smile and the dimples in his cheeks, I could suddenly understand why. He was the princely archetype plus an actual prince in this game’s faux-France kingdom, Eavredor, and he had the easiest difficulty rating.
When playing Love Blooming for the first time (with no idea how much it’d change my life), I skated right on past Étienne. I wanted to find that wickedly beautiful redhead who I kept seeing in the background of untranslated Pixiv fan comics. She had to be a secret girl love interest, right? Sure, she didn’t get even a fraction of the fanart and fanfic that the guys did, but what else was new? Maybe she was a new character for the uncelebrated tenth anniversary Steam port and that’s why the only things I could find for her were a dramatic silhouette on the promo art and a pile of weird lewds on Danbooru.
Nope.
Turned out, Antoinette’s the jealous, petty love rival, who makes Marie’s life miserable no matter which guy you go for. The villainess of Love Blooming. And my favourite character, despite her bare-bones script, total lack of backstory, and her undignified, unearned downfall that the game forces her through so Marie can run off with her own true love.
Blech.
Marie. Antoinette. Their names were meant to stitch together. They were made for quippy ship names and fanfic titles. Would it have killed the game devs to give her a little connection with the–?
"What’s your name?"
The world stopped.
Literally. The steam from our teacups hung in the air like cotton, the round lavender pearls freezing. A perfect stray strand of blond hair stopped mid-tumble on Étienne’s forehead. The butler was caught with his hand halfway to his mouth, about to clear his throat.
Ping!
A dialogue box appeared between us. Coffee-brown partial transparency, cheesy stock filigree on the edges, golden text.
My name? It takes me a minute to remember…my memories are so hazy…all I can find in the shifting sand of my life before this moment is a first name. I know nothing of my family. Nothing of my origins, nor my fate. But my name…it’s…
Hanna. Duh.
I never, ever used my real name when I played otome games. I couldn’t deal with those anime boys saying my name, staring too deeply into my soul, like they saw the university student on the other side of the screen and wanted to romance her. I mean, there’s a reason Doki Doki Literature Club tries to creep you out by making Monika access your computer’s username. We all hide behind something when we play video games.
How did I forget? The name’s [TYPE NAME!]! Please forgive me, in all the madness, I forgot… My name is [TYPE NAME!] Ugh, fine, only because you helped me… [TYPE NAME!]
Spice!Marie. Sugar!Marie. Sour!Marie. The personality type presets, all here.
…Dang, I had a good imagination, huh? No wonder I was such a good fic writer.
Tentatively, I reached up for the hovering keyboard.
The name’s C-H-L-O-É, Your Highness!
The dialogue box sang a happy little tune. Something, somehow, pressed Play on the world. Those very words popped out of my mouth and I involuntarily bounced in my seat, exactly the way I imagined spice!Marie to do.
That charming curl fell on Étienne’s forehead and he effortlessly blew it back into place before saying, "What a beautiful name. I had a beloved aunt with that name. Now, hearing it reminds me of warm cocoa and fairy tales. Well, I did call you Sleeping Beauty, didn’t I, Miss Chloé?"
A shiver zapped down my spine. Exactly like if he’d said Hanna.
Marie, with the pixelated DS screen and tinny music, usually stood between me and the boys, doing all the daring tasks, casting her chaotic magic, and flirting her way into their hearts.
Yet right now, I couldn’t deny how it was my hands that were scuffed from the road, my face he was looking at, my body he could reach over and touch.
What do I even look like?!
Come on, don’t be silly.
I stood up. If this was a dream, I only wanted one thing. Antoinette. This was my brain. And my brain had spent almost a year of my life hyperfixated on that redheaded Top Bitch. I stomped towards the door.
When she was human and not an anime-style pixel drawing, how much more beautiful was she? I’d make the most of it and have her glare me down with those gorgeous eyes!
Étienne was quick to catch me, and his butler was even quicker. The old man neatly stepped in front of the door.
“Miss Chloé, what do you need?” Étienne asked. “Please. We can bring you food or–”
“I need to see Antoinette!” I tried to dodge around the butler. The old guy was pretty nimble. “Right now!”
"Lady Antoinette Delphine?"
“Yep, the heiress to the Aconitum Corporation! The loveliest girl in all of modern gaming!”
“I-I understand you’re upset that her carriage hit you. My guards are working closely with hers to solve why–”
“No need. I know why she was on the road. She lost an earring at a dinner party and she thought the servants might have stolen it from her, so she was racing back to catch them.” Blah blah, vain women are evil, blah blah. “Fetch me a carriage to find her and–”
Ping!
Thanks for getting right on the case, Your Highness! Please don’t inconvenience yourself for my sake. I hope you make her pay for what she did to me.
Where was the option for, Seriously, leave it alone! Let’s get on with the magical boarding school plot! Someone hand me a dying houseplant to save!
I carefully tapped 2.
"Please don’t inconvenience yourself for my sake," popped right out of my mouth. Hand-wringing, eye-averting, and all! Damn it, sugar!Marie!
"It’s hardly an inconvenience." Étienne tried to steer me back to the couch. "You were seriously hurt. Don’t worry. I’m sure Miss Antoinette will apologize and this will all be smoothed over."
Antoinette will refuse to cooperate with Étienne by apologizing to Marie or helping her recover her memory, which puts a dent in her reputation with him (a pretty substantial feat). This dumb crash starts everyone off on the wrong foot.
I needed to see her. She was the home base for my muse, my stresses, all my pent-up creative energy, all my fandom passion that got me in so much trouble on Tumblr. Seeing her was the only decision that felt sane.
So I needed to…move the plot forward?
“Étienne, please, I need my tea. My head’s all spinny.”
Gallant as always, Étienne handed me my cup with the dramatics of giving me a legendary diadem. Tightly-wound lavender pearls floated in it, tinting the tea purple. I lifted it to my mouth and thought magical, magical, Love Blooming thoughts.
In the game, Marie’s anxiety about forgetting her whole life (and the handsome prince doting on her) triggers her magic. Maybe it was my anxiety about potentially losing my whole life that made the lavender pearls pop open into blooms the size of cinnamon buns, flinging themselves out of my cup from the force.
Marie made a cutesy, pre-recorded "Eep!"
I, meanwhile, flung the cup across the room and covered the crown prince in tea.
"Miss?"
A gentle, masculine voice shimmered out of the dark. It had to be my doctor, bringing me back from the anesthesia-induced haze of surgery.
Why on earth would he call me miss? That was both too intimate and too impersonal. Besides, it’s kind of part of his job to at least know my name is Hanna.
"Miss, can you hear me?"
I rubbed my forehead. Blobs of light peeked through my eyelids. I felt…too light, like someone scooped out all my bones and guts and I was gonna float away. Thankfully, a warm hand was on my shoulder, anchoring me down on a soft…sofa? The smell of flowers and wood polish stuffed my head with cotton balls.
"Let me help you up. Easy, now. You struck your head very hard."
I’m at the hospital. Bits of my dreams are leaking into my senses, that’s all. Just like before, in the road with the carriage, and the woman…
"Your Highness, let me–"
"No, no, it’s alright! What are princes for but helping maidens?"
Why do I know that sentence?
My vision cleared. Instead of a sterile surgery room or even a modest, impersonal recovery den, I was in a lavish parlour, crowded with knick knacks and clashing patterned furniture, like I’d stumbled onto the Bridgerton set. And a blonde young man was right in front of me.
A weirdly familiar young man.
Oh.
Everything crashed into me. The literal crash itself, the puddles in the street, and that snide, wickedly gorgeous face sneering down at me from the carriage as it raced past…
Antoinette Delphine!
I bolted straight up. The Your Highness watching over me jumped back and hit a coffee table strewn with teacups; the parlour rang with the jangle of porcelain. I knew this parlour. I knew that mustachioed butler in the corner and the hodgepodge of different French and Germanic eras all thrown together into an autumn-toned backdrop, stuffed to the brim with the flowers that made up for much of Love Blooming’s marketing materials. I knew that young man with his uncommonly pure blue eyes. His blonde hair tousled just enough to be boyish and sweet, juuust enough to make you want to see who he could be if he loosened up his perfectly-pressed powder-blue suit.
Étienne Alarie.
This was phase two of the game’s prologue, where Marie–the protagonist–wakes up in the first love interest’s palace.
Probably satisfied that I wasn’t gonna keel over and break my face on the coffee table, a smiling Étienne skirted around it and sat on the sofa opposite me.
"It’s reassuring to see you awake, Sleeping Beauty."
Love Blooming’s crappy DS storage couldn’t handle more voice acting than an old Ace Attorney game: just the occasional sigh, gasp, or chuckle. And yet here was Étienne’s voice and every subtle French lilt within it.
I reached across the coffee table and poked his bare hand. He was warm.
Wait, wait-wait-wait.
The night before my surgery, I’d been so wound-up that (instead of crying all night) I wrote a whole oneshot on my phone in bed, and then posted it, un-beta’d, on Tumblr at 3 in the morning. Obviously, my subconscious was clinging to it, right?
Prince that he was, Étienne didn’t shake off my prodding. Instead, he lightly cupped his hand over mine and said, "You’re fortunate my staff saw that awful crash. The clinics are all closed at this hour, but–"
"But they knew you’d want your personal physician to check me over." My voice wasn’t my own and it tripped on the way out of my mouth.
His blue eyes grew wide. "Oh. Yes, Miss, that’s absolutely the case."
This body was shorter and slimmer than mine. Black bangs kept tumbling in front of my face, and the hand that brushed them away had longer fingers and nails, so I nearly took my eye out in the process. The only thing keeping me from running around the room and screaming What the hell! WHAT THE HELL! was how I’d probably land flat on my face.
Even if he was kinda a basic beginner’s choice, Étienne was a fan favourite. Seeing his warm, easy smile and the dimples in his cheeks, I could suddenly understand why. He was the princely archetype plus an actual prince in this game’s faux-France kingdom, Eavredor, and he had the easiest difficulty rating.
When playing Love Blooming for the first time (with no idea how much it’d change my life), I skated right on past Étienne. I wanted to find that wickedly beautiful redhead who I kept seeing in the background of untranslated Pixiv fan comics. She had to be a secret girl love interest, right? Sure, she didn’t get even a fraction of the fanart and fanfic that the guys did, but what else was new? Maybe she was a new character for the uncelebrated tenth anniversary Steam port and that’s why the only things I could find for her were a dramatic silhouette on the promo art and a pile of weird lewds on Danbooru.
Nope.
Turned out, Antoinette’s the jealous, petty love rival, who makes Marie’s life miserable no matter which guy you go for. The villainess of Love Blooming. And my favourite character, despite her bare-bones script, total lack of backstory, and her undignified, unearned downfall that the game forces her through so Marie can run off with her own true love.
Blech.
Marie. Antoinette. Their names were meant to stitch together. They were made for quippy ship names and fanfic titles. Would it have killed the game devs to give her a little connection with the–?
"What’s your name?"
The world stopped.
Literally. The steam from our teacups hung in the air like cotton, the round lavender pearls freezing. A perfect stray strand of blond hair stopped mid-tumble on Étienne’s forehead. The butler was caught with his hand halfway to his mouth, about to clear his throat.
Ping!
A dialogue box appeared between us. Coffee-brown partial transparency, cheesy stock filigree on the edges, golden text.
My name? It takes me a minute to remember…my memories are so hazy…all I can find in the shifting sand of my life before this moment is a first name. I know nothing of my family. Nothing of my origins, nor my fate. But my name…it’s…
Hanna. Duh.
I never, ever used my real name when I played otome games. I couldn’t deal with those anime boys saying my name, staring too deeply into my soul, like they saw the university student on the other side of the screen and wanted to romance her. I mean, there’s a reason Doki Doki Literature Club tries to creep you out by making Monika access your computer’s username. We all hide behind something when we play video games.
How did I forget? The name’s [TYPE NAME!]! Please forgive me, in all the madness, I forgot… My name is [TYPE NAME!] Ugh, fine, only because you helped me… [TYPE NAME!]
Spice!Marie. Sugar!Marie. Sour!Marie. The personality type presets, all here.
…Dang, I had a good imagination, huh? No wonder I was such a good fic writer.
Tentatively, I reached up for the hovering keyboard.
The name’s C-H-L-O-É, Your Highness!
The dialogue box sang a happy little tune. Something, somehow, pressed Play on the world. Those very words popped out of my mouth and I involuntarily bounced in my seat, exactly the way I imagined spice!Marie to do.
That charming curl fell on Étienne’s forehead and he effortlessly blew it back into place before saying, "What a beautiful name. I had a beloved aunt with that name. Now, hearing it reminds me of warm cocoa and fairy tales. Well, I did call you Sleeping Beauty, didn’t I, Miss Chloé?"
A shiver zapped down my spine. Exactly like if he’d said Hanna.
Marie, with the pixelated DS screen and tinny music, usually stood between me and the boys, doing all the daring tasks, casting her chaotic magic, and flirting her way into their hearts.
Yet right now, I couldn’t deny how it was my hands that were scuffed from the road, my face he was looking at, my body he could reach over and touch.
What do I even look like?!
Come on, don’t be silly.
I stood up. If this was a dream, I only wanted one thing. Antoinette. This was my brain. And my brain had spent almost a year of my life hyperfixated on that redheaded Top Bitch. I stomped towards the door.
When she was human and not an anime-style pixel drawing, how much more beautiful was she? I’d make the most of it and have her glare me down with those gorgeous eyes!
Étienne was quick to catch me, and his butler was even quicker. The old man neatly stepped in front of the door.
“Miss Chloé, what do you need?” Étienne asked. “Please. We can bring you food or–”
“I need to see Antoinette!” I tried to dodge around the butler. The old guy was pretty nimble. “Right now!”
"Lady Antoinette Delphine?"
“Yep, the heiress to the Aconitum Corporation! The loveliest girl in all of modern gaming!”
“I-I understand you’re upset that her carriage hit you. My guards are working closely with hers to solve why–”
“No need. I know why she was on the road. She lost an earring at a dinner party and she thought the servants might have stolen it from her, so she was racing back to catch them.” Blah blah, vain women are evil, blah blah. “Fetch me a carriage to find her and–”
Ping!
Thanks for getting right on the case, Your Highness! Please don’t inconvenience yourself for my sake. I hope you make her pay for what she did to me.
Where was the option for, Seriously, leave it alone! Let’s get on with the magical boarding school plot! Someone hand me a dying houseplant to save!
I carefully tapped 2.
"Please don’t inconvenience yourself for my sake," popped right out of my mouth. Hand-wringing, eye-averting, and all! Damn it, sugar!Marie!
"It’s hardly an inconvenience." Étienne tried to steer me back to the couch. "You were seriously hurt. Don’t worry. I’m sure Miss Antoinette will apologize and this will all be smoothed over."
Antoinette will refuse to cooperate with Étienne by apologizing to Marie or helping her recover her memory, which puts a dent in her reputation with him (a pretty substantial feat). This dumb crash starts everyone off on the wrong foot.
I needed to see her. She was the home base for my muse, my stresses, all my pent-up creative energy, all my fandom passion that got me in so much trouble on Tumblr. Seeing her was the only decision that felt sane.
So I needed to…move the plot forward?
“Étienne, please, I need my tea. My head’s all spinny.”
Gallant as always, Étienne handed me my cup with the dramatics of giving me a legendary diadem. Tightly-wound lavender pearls floated in it, tinting the tea purple. I lifted it to my mouth and thought magical, magical, Love Blooming thoughts.
In the game, Marie’s anxiety about forgetting her whole life (and the handsome prince doting on her) triggers her magic. Maybe it was my anxiety about potentially losing my whole life that made the lavender pearls pop open into blooms the size of cinnamon buns, flinging themselves out of my cup from the force.
Marie made a cutesy, pre-recorded "Eep!"
I, meanwhile, flung the cup across the room and covered the crown prince in tea.
