nuvellity | IC Inbox

[ It's alright, the denizens of the Abyss have made it very clear what they think about Constance's obsession with... stuff. She wouldn't be here if she cared about what other people think. (She also wouldn't be here if she didn't obsess about what other people think.) ]

The people from Fodlan who found their way here, they all remember the Ashen Wolves in different ways, if they remember us at all. Edelgard and Dimitri do not remember us at all. Lorenz and Mercedes, when they were here, remembered us as a part of the Golden Deer and Blue Lions classes respectively. Ferdinand remembers that we sided with the Black Eagles, but Ferdinand's version of events had all of us join the Black Eagles. [ Sylvain included, probably. Constance never really pried into Ferdinand's version of Fodlan. ] Personally, I remember joining the Black Eagles only because of our alliegance to the professor, but everyone else stayed loyal to their respective lords.

[ Oh no, why did Constance finish off all her tea earlier. Now she can only stall by refilling her cup, her brows knit. ]

Do you mean a relationship more akin to that of lovers?

[ Sylvain, please drink your tea and ignore the color that's rising to the tip of Constance's ears. ]

Well, yeah, and there was the whole thing where you joined our class.

[He nods, though his expression quickly shifts into a puzzled frown.] Felix mentioned something like that. People remembering different things. But... people just missing?

[He tilts his head a little.] The Black Eagles? Really? My memories line up with Mercy's.

... She's... not here anymore, right?

[He shrugs nonchalantly at her question, smirking a little.] Yeah, I guess. Just a little more, maybe? But sure, whatever label you want to stick on it. [He absolutely notices the flush creeping across her face and can't help but poke a little more.] So? Is there someone? You wouldn't hold out on me, would you?

She is not. [ And as much as Constance wants Mercedes to stay, this really is not a place for her. ~~And Constance has no idea how much kinkier Mercie is than her.~~ ] Save for a handful of us, the people from Fodlan tend to come and go. [ Especially Sylvain and Felix. How does Dimitri manage?

Constance frowns at him. If she's going to talk about this (and to be honest, she wants to. she has zero friends to talk about this to.), she might as well drag him down with her. ]

How do you do it, Sylvain? How do you manage to keep yourself from developing feelings for the thousands of men and women that you have intimate physical relationships with?

[ She asks, without malice, as if she's seeking help, as she refills their cups. ]

[Sylvain nods glumly but it's no surprise. He's sure he would've heard from her if she were here and, man, would he have been thrilled to know she was kinky.]

Yeah? [Again, this isn't really new information but it is something he'd put out of his mind right after learning about it. It's just a bizarre thing to think about - other versions of himself, other versions of the others.

Luckily, Constance immediately has his mind far away from trivial things like the existential dread that comes with learning that there are potentially hundreds of different Sylvains living different experiences out there and that they'd somehow come here before him and had subsequently gone back to their lives.

No, instead he happily focuses on her question and what a question it is. At first, he's convinced she's trying to flip the conversation on him but she actually sounds sincere.] Thousands of men and women? Thousands. [He echoes her words with an incredulous nod as he tried to quell the smile tugging at the corners of his lips.]

Uh... Alright. I'll be serious about this. I don't? [He shrugs, now having to force a faint smile.] They aren't purely physical. None of them have been. I... [He shrugs again.] I don't know. I thought I loved them all. Or could, at least, see myself loving them. But things just... tend not to work out. [Because he's never let them. In fact, he fell out of love almost as quickly as he fell in love. He was definitely in love with the idea of loving someone and being loved in return. It was something he both desperately wanted and ultimately felt like he didn't deserve and could never have. He was also completely terrible when it came to actually doing it, falling into the same self sabotaging traps he always did and then it was on to fall in love with someone else.]

Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Enough to make your reputation known to the denizens of the Abyss. [ So there may or may not have been some exaggerations going on, either way Sylvain's love life was a subject of gossip that Constance never really paid that much attention to.

Huh, he's taking her question more seriously than she thought he would. And his answer is unexpected. Constance was actually hoping for new useful data. ] It seems like you are not that much different from him, then. [ Minus the self-sabotage, maybe. Not that Constance is aware of Sylvain's tendency to do that when he seems so confident at all times. ] How fortunate that I am not the same.

[ Constance frowns at the window, waiting for it to burst open so she can open up more about her worries but she had sealed it pretty well. So she takes it out on this cookie, snapping it between her teeth. ]

Wooow, that's a lot of thousands. [He smirks, sipping up the last of his tea before leaning forward to set the empty cup down on the table.]

"Him"? [He raises an eyebrow but that's as far as he pushes despite his piqued curiosity.]

Not the same how? [His smirk is gone once again, serious, open expression back.] I mean, if you wanted to talk about it. [He shrugs, leaning back.] Up to you.

[ Oh dear, they're out of tea. Or rather, there's still some tea left but it's the bitter dregs, and it would be rude to serve it to a guest. And it would also be rude to not answer his question (that she kind of brought upon herself.) Moreover, with the windows closed, she is in no position to back down from a perceived challenge. ]

It is inevitable that every child that I bring to the world shall inherit my family's crest. It would be irresponsible of me to grant them such a burden without even providing them with a home. [ Note that the other Constance is already penning an apology for even deeming herself worthy of passing down her genes, to be delivered when the sun is out. ] Moreover, should someone foolishly choose to greet the sun with me, they shall find themselves with someone completely different come the morn. [ And now that apology is longer and sadder. Even if Constance is scoffing as if she did not just bare two important weaknesses to a well-known playboy over tea. ]

It is not that I am completely closed off to the possibility of falling in love, I am merely well aware of how burdensome it would be for everyone involved.

[Sylvain's expression seems to turn stormy at the mention of crests and Constance's current status as an ousted noble. He hated this kind of thing. Honestly, not having to think about any of that garbage was the best thing about being here, wherever here was.]

You don't have to worry about any of that crap here though. I mean... the sun thing, sure, but no one cares about your Crest here or even whether or not you're a noble. It's so freeing. People will just see you as you.

[He deflates a little, slumping in his chair when she reiterates how burdensome she thinks she is.] That's not true, though, Constance. It's even less true here. Why not let the other person decide if they think you're a 'burden' or not before you go making that decision for them. [It's a rich statement coming from Sylvain who basically sabotages his relationships on the regular by assuming things about what his partner is thinking and feeling.]

[ Being a noble, with all the expectations and responsibilities that come with it, is the fragile glue that holds Constance's fragile personality together. So excuse her as she continues to yell about her nobility from (sometimes literally) above. It all links back to how House Nuvelle fell from grace and how her responsibility to the people that protected her was among the few things that kept her alive.

Which makes that a more difficult topic to talk about than her relationship with another red headed spearman. ]

I have been with Ferdinand for more than a year, since I arrived here. Only recently did he find out about the link between the sun and my condition. Prior to that, he thought that I was just so upset with him, for something he thinks he did, that it turned into absolutely crushing sadness. How is that not a burden?

[ Yes, her voice reaches a distressed pitch when she asks that. It's still easier to talk about than House Nuvelle. ]

[Sylvain valiantly tries to keep his expression schooled, he really, really does. But hearing that Ferdinand had somehow been oblivious to Constance's changes when she stepped out into the sunlight was not only incredibly typical of him, it was also pretty funny. Constance is genuinely distressed by it though, which, alright, that part does suck and definitely puts a bit of a damper on how amusing the thought is.]

Well... that just sounds like a lack of communication. That's part of every relationship. [There we go, a positive spin. And honestly, it's a spin that really isn't that far off.] But you weren't saying the sun stuff was a burden. You said having crest babies under your family's crest was the burden. And that doesn't seem like something anyone has to worry about around here.

[ It's fine. Constance would probably find her own situation hilarious if she was watching it happening to someone else. ]

He could have always asked. It is not as if I am completely impossible to talk to at that state. [ Or is she? She doesn't really need to punch down on her own self-esteem right now. Let her choose to be indignant, it's easier than reflecting on one's weaknesses. ] Having children is a responsibility, not a burden. It is admittedly not a responsibility I am ready for, despite my stellar capabilities with most things [ except surviving a projectile attack, cooking, axe wielding... ], until I have managed to shed most of my burdens.

Ferdinand? Prying into why you might be upset and not assuming it was just something he was doing? Do we even know the same Ferdinand? [He smirks a little as he sits back, knowing full well that it's so much easier to call these things out for what they were when you were on the outside looking in.

At the mention of children being a responsibility, he can't quite keep his expression from twisting into something ugly, disdain written in the downward curve of his mouth.]

That might be true back in Fodlan. But we're not in Fodlan, so why are you still stuck thinking like you are? [His tone is snappier than he'd intended but maybe he would actually get through to her that way.] Those bullshit rules don't apply to us here. We can just do whatever we want. Your past doesn't matter. Your nobility doesn't matter. Nothing matters. If you like him, then do what you want with it.

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