It would not be inaccurate to describe what it felt like to hear the old Velvet once more as ‘salvation’. And when she speaks once more, her immense gentleness and kindness flows forth unbidden, like a gentle brook that had never really stopped in the first place. If you took away all her hatred, all her despair, all her vengeance, Velvet would still have something, something that mattered.Īfter spending about 90% of the game listening to a Velvet consumed with burning rage and fury, the true Velvet breaks free of the prison of her own doing at last. Velvet named him, taught him the importance of free-will, and for what it was worth, treated him with the love of a sibling, naming him ‘Laphicet’ as well. She eventually adopts a flat tone, reserved for those who have given up on life, the living dead.īut the child Malak that she kidnapped into her party along her journey refuses to give up on her. Her words start to feel barren, and cease to carry weight or meaning to even herself. The higher notes start first, and shatter like stained glass. Was everything that she had done thus far pointless? All that effort, all those lives taken, all that pain suffered …Īnd so, Velvet’s voice starts to break. She learns that Laphicet was going to die from his illness anyway, and actually volunteered to be sacrificed for the greater good. Arthur sacrificed Laphicet to awaken a god, and the god has taken on Laphicet’s form and his memories. The gentleness in it long dead, slaughtered under a blood-red moon.Īfter slaughtering her way across several continents, Velvet runs up against an impossible wall. You can hear the very darkness that has consumed her soul in her quest for vengeance. She deals in threats, insults, blackmail, curses, and worse. She speaks coldly, bluntly, and with barely suppressed rage and despair. There is a real hardness to it, a steel as unyielding and fierce as any sword. The Velvet Crowe who once felt sorry for a boar’s family is no more. She breaks out of prison, finds some unlike-minded companions and makes her way across a terrified world, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. ![]() When we see Velvet again, she is battered, torn, and just as enraged as the day her life became hell. And there she festers for three long years, feeding on other daemons that are thrown down into her cell. When she awakes, she is at the bottom of a prison pit, and her left arm is replaced by a fearsome red daemon’s claws. As she falls into a black oblivion, she tastes the agony of losing her beloved brother and the bitterness of betrayal. Screaming in anguish and disbelief, she tries to drag Laphicet out of the pit he was thrown into, but Arthur cuts off her left arm. On the night of the blood-red moon, Arthur, her respected brother-in-law, betrays the family and sacrifices Laphicet to the gods in front of her very eyes. He means the world to her, and you can sense it in her loving tone and she speaks to him, or speaks about him. ![]() And more obvious than anything else is how much she loves her frail younger brother, Laphicet. When she speaks, you can feel the gentleness in her voice, the uplifting lilt of a little hope, the soft rounding off of the vowels in the Japanese syllabary. She dreams of her brother becoming well enough to travel the world, and maybe setting up a Quiche shop with her friend Niko. She cooks, she cleans, she shops, she nurses her chronically sick brother, and can rattle off 10 different uses of water after it’s been used to wash rice. Her family, which she has effectively been in charge of since her elder sister was killed seven years ago. She studies martial arts under her brother-in-law, Arthur, and hunts boars on the outskirts of her village to provide for her family. Velvet Crowe is fundamentally gentle, but by no means sheltered.
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