I just thought it might be a fine idea to give you a little insight into my script for the upcoming second chapter of my visual novel Teleny. Here it is:
Camille: As I was absorbed in my work, halfway through the papers that had been spread out before me, an unexpected presence interrupted the quiet. I was so deeply entrenched in my thoughts that I barely noticed the footsteps approaching while almost mechanically and while still focused on my task I muttered:
Camille: “Sir Larsson, don’t mind me. I’ll be finished with this issue shortly.”
Camille: But then, a faint chuckle broke through the haze of my concentration, a laugh I immediately recognized. It was Briancourt. My gaze snapped up, startled, and for a moment, I almost forgot where I was.
Briancourt: „So, you are free after this?“
Camille: His words, though framed as a question, carried the weight of a declaration. He leaned languidly against a cupboard near the entrance, his eyes fixed upon me with a kind of intensity that made me feel both scrutinized and admired. I met his gaze for a moment, unable to stifle the faintest of smiles that tugged at the corner of my lips.
Camille: “My mother sent you, did she?”
Camille: Briancourt gave a dramatic shrug, the air of theatrical resignation in his manner almost comical.
Briancourt: „Not precisely. I had intended to call upon you, but your mother informed me of your condition. “Ill and still working,” she said. Naturally, I thought it best to come and see for myself if you had maybe collapsed in the middle of your papers.”
Camille: He spoke in jest, as was his habit, but the glint of worry in his eyes told a different story. He had witnessed me at my lowest ebb and was well acquainted with the number of days that had passed since my ailment began to plague me. With a heavy sigh, I could do little but yield to the weight of his gaze.
Camille: „It’s not that bad really. Just a slight fever.“
Briancourt: “Your mother will never let you live this down once you return, you know that?”
Camille: “I am well aware.”
Briancourt: “Ah, yes, you do know her well. When I talked to her, he seemed composed on the surface, but we both know, the tempest within is all too evident, if one knows how to look.”
Camille: “I know exactly what you mean.”
Briancourt: “There is, of course, only one way to resolve this dilemma.”
Camille: I frowned, bracing myself for the inevitable: Yet another of his grating theories on the “finer points” of dealing with women, none of which ever seemed to be grounded in any real understanding of the complexities of human nature.
Briancourt: “After you’ve finished here, come with me and we’ll have dinner. My father is away with his associates, so the mansion is ours, - just the two of us.”
Camille: “ I don’t know…“
Briancourt: “It’s either my mansion or your bed, you see. I promised your mother I’d bring you home, but I never promised I’d do it immediately upon your finishing that tedious work of yours.”
Camille: „You know, I…“
Briancourt: “Come now. She’ll scold you regardless, so you might as well give her a moment to calm herself. Do you remember? When we were boys, you would always retreat to my mansion, seeking refuge from her wrath.”
Camille: A sigh escaped me, laden with an unspoken resignation.
Briancourt: „I swear, I shall allow you the luxury of resting upon my bed for a while.”
Camille: „Well… I am coming with you“
Camille: It was no use resisting, and truth be told, I had little desire to do so. For as long as I could remember, I had followed him in his reckless pursuits, - his foolishness never once leading me astray. He had never failed me, and I was certain he would never allow harm to come my way. With him, I was safe, as though the world’s dangers could never touch me. His words rang true. The thought of evading my mother for a while longer was an enticing prospect.
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