RAIN & MEMORY SHARE

[spoofer]

Characters: Ensemble cast, any/all characters of Xistentia!
Summary: Rain has come to the world, and with it, comes whacky memory share phenomena— certainly not all of which is wanted. Characters are driven to find shelter and solutions.
Date(s): September 30-October 7
Warnings/Notes: None specific, please warn in your subject headers

Awash In Memory

The landscape after cruelty which is, of course, a garden

The Rain

At first, it's just rain, expected to last a week. A swirl of silver cotton-candy clouds in the sky that rolls into a mist, and then a drizzle that freckles the gutters and chases people to their cars or into the shopfronts. It's nourishing and not too cold— a good excuse to share an umbrella or maybe just fitting of a shitty, blue mood if you would like to walk around in a billowy coat like the King of Pain.

Gimme Shelter

It can be a cute or enormously embarrassing way to meet people, pretty much up to you. Fall in step with someone under an offered umbrella, or dart around like a panic with a pizza box or plastic bag over your head. Maybe you'll just find an overhanging tree branch or store awning to tuck yourself under. Hopefully you're stuck with someone you like.

Quite a few restaurants seem to be offering rainy day specials, including Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe, comprised of hot cocoa and half-off a second cup if you're buying for a friend. You probably won't be the only one there.

However, for those of you who are taking the weather more seriously, the citadel has opened for shelter. Here, there are beds aplenty scattered throughout, and the bar and lounge is open with its terrible soundtrack as well as plentiful if repetitive food and drink. Residents are also exchanging resources of their own, including harvested foodstuffs and clothes. You can also check out the control room to see the meteorological analysis and forecast... which is behaving a little unpredictably, but-- it'll probably be fine.

Like My Mood

Alternatively, #mood.


Maybe everything sucks because you got stood up for a date or otherwise rejected recently-- it's a good time to storm around tragically in the street. Alternatively, if you're the happy type, there is an entire musical dedicated to the fine practice of dancing in the rain. Who needs musical accompaniment when you have the rhythmic drubbing of water on the earth and the sweet smell of petrichor?

Or maybe you're in the mood to talk. Certainly, there's an increasing sense of nostalgia going around that's stronger and more widespread than the average effect of poetic weather...

Oh Shit

However, the downpour steadily intensifies over the next few days, and soon after F.A.T.E.S. issues a warning— D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. has hijacked the climate. At first, there are only a few concerns— herds of animals coming into the city seeking shelter. Be careful if you find a herd of bison gathered under the highway overpass, or your kitchen is suddenly full of fairies. Hell, maybe you're a Good Samaritan, trying to rescue some hapless native cat or other.

But then it begins.

The Memory Share

As the rain grows heavy, the nostalgia turns into something unexpected. Characters who touch one another find themselves sharing brief sensory memory. These can vary from the sudden and terrible pain of old battle wounds, to the overwhelming, heart-pounding joy of welcoming a new child to the family. The scary thing is, these memory share are uncontrolled, and might come from even the shortest, most accidental touch.

The Telexistence Temple

News from your fellow residents: Era Ra and Ezekiel won visions during the fair. And now Era has information to share, that uploading memories at the Temple can lock and protect them from the involuntary release, as well as fortify the defenses of the city. She's also talking about some kind of a key hole there, which you can check out yourself. Weird!

You can teleport East from the Citadel to the Temple, or you can walk there on your own two legs. Weather allowing.

Within the Temple the chamber lays behind a large round door covered in inscrutable carvings. It's surprisingly bright in here now, in contrast to what Era's message held. It contains numerous strange beds, all of which are now online, having awakened in answer to the rainfall. The characters must lay down on while the daemons connect to a holographic interface.

From there, the memory share becomes intuitive even for the most technologically impaired of Xistentia residents.

The Temple Chamber

If you should choose to share, you may control who sees it; filter it to someone of your choice, or leave it open for everyone. You may post anonymously, but visual cues of identity cannot be erased. Pain is muted and impressionistic, but pleasure tends to be evocative enough. It's the way the mind works. Daemons will flag graphic or commonly disturbing material. With every new memory shared, the rain seems to be lessening.

You can also choose to lock it away, preventing anyone from seeing it for at least another month. Unfortunately your memory will not help to shield the city, but at least it will stop embarrassing you. Let's hope it doesn't provoke any intrusive questions in the meantime.

After 48 hours, enough memories have been shared. The sky over the city and the sphere of forest surround the urban bounds develops a barrier that looks almost liquid, translucent. Though residents can pass through it, it cuts the rain down to half. A few hours later, the storm wanes out and stops entirely. The shield also fades away, and the animals begin to ebb as well, back into the wild. It's only been a week, but it might feel much longer.


The memories will dissipate from storage in a month, regardless of whether or not they're viewed again.

Comments

Era Ra ☘ OTA

[astralera]

☘ SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT ► VIDEO

There is a chamber in the temple where you may protect your memories from being involuntarily shared. By doing so you are not only keeping your memories safe, but fortifying the city's defenses as well.

There is also this strange key hole here... It's an odd size.

[ She gestures toward said key hole and Emeraldd turns to display it across the network: ]

☘ RAINY DAY SPECIAL

Hot cocoa has been her comfort drink of choice since her days in Dragonhead, so it's no surprise that on a dark and rainy day Era would find herself waiting in line to purchase one. She had been on her way to the citadel with Anima (who is taking refuge in her purse) because something about her recurring dream combined with the weather has made her antsy, but the call of hot cocoa was too strong - especially if she can pick up a second one to-go for Aymeric while she's at it.

☘ THE TEMPLE

While Era knows that there is likely no risk to her memories by assisting, she finds herself irrationally terrified of giving any to the temple for protection. She has so few memories - not even a handful of years' worth - that any chance of losing them, no matter how small...

Instead she does her best to keep her distance from everyone, not daring to get close enough for even the fabric of her clothes to brush against another. Most of her memories are not pleasant, and she would not wish the pain held within them on anyone else.

☘ WILDCARD

((feel free to hit me up on Discord @ Era Ra#4916 or froakie, or just toss your own starter here and I'll do my best to just roll with it! If you want to do a memory share contact me so we can work out a good memory to use. c:))

special announcement

[helical]

Thanks for letting us know. [ but he is a little wary, as usual. ] Did you find this place yourself, or did your daemon show you?

announcement;

[bangitybang]

That's an interesting discovery. Did you get a chance to look for the key?

MEMORIES (spoilers abound)

[astralera]

☘ OPEN MEMORIES (eorzea & othard tour + meet the primals)

[ After her fears had been eased somewhat, Era decided to take the opportunity to share more about her home world. She had visited more places than even most adventurers, and each one was something special.

It takes longer than she thought it would, but she wanted to make sure to censor out the moments where someone paid unwanted attention to her race. With Ishgard it was impossible to find a memory without at least one person eyeing her with distrust - or even disgust. She did her best to focus on the memories of awe at such a marvelous city in the sky, and not the guilt and mourning she had been experiencing at the time.

The end product is a nice tour of Eorzea and Othard that Era is quite proud to share. Her deep love for her home is a constant undercurrent even when other emotions are at the forefront of her memories.

Shortly after finishing that, Era recalls Amanda's interest in the gods of her world and decides that it wouldn't hurt to share some of her fighting experiences as well. It doesn't take much from there to create a highlight reel of sorts where she initially comes face-to-face with each Primal. There is no fear in her memories - just determination, an unyielding desire to protect her loved ones, and a low boiling anger.

((1 (ARR + HW), Susano, Lakshmi, Shinryu {phase 2}))

The Mothercrystal comes next; memory of an infinite expanse of space lit by an enormous crystal. Peace and comfort are the most prominent emotions whenever she encounters Hydaelyn herself. She shares the moment she regained her blessing from Hydaelyn, to give a further glimpse of the Mothercrystal's Light.

And a last one for Amanda - meeting Migardsormr; father of the dragons. ]

☘ ACCIDENTAL MEMORIES

[ Happy: Lord Hien's first address to his people.

WTF: Meeting Hildibrand.

hello darkness my old friend:

Walking through Ishgard and being stared at with contempt; people whispering cruel words to each other behind their hands, loud enough still that Era could hear them. 'What was he thinking, taking a dragon mongrel of all things as a ward?'

Waking up, scared and confused outside of Ul'dah. Realizing she has no memories; being stared at as though she were the leading attraction in a side show.

The loss of a friend; the birth of the Word of the Mother.

When she took a moment to warm up and was poisoned for it.

The death of a friend.

And another.

Why
couldn't
she
save
them. ]

Amanda | OTA + one closed prompt

[miss_brilliant]

A. Rain:

Amanda likes the rain. At least at first, because she spent so long without being able to feel really feel it, in fact she could hardly go out in it thanks to maintaining her body temperature being enough of a hassle in a house let alone in any kind of real weather.

So you might be able to find her out in it for ten minutes or so with an odd smile on her face, a drink in one hand and the leash attached to her Eevee in the other. And occasionally, when Heddy splashes in a puddle, Amanda actually laughs. If you know her well, you should know it's odd to see her in a good mood when she's not playing chess or fiddling with electronics, so you wouldn't be blamed if you're a bit worried about her, especially during the moments when she seems to gaze off for a moment with a somewhat distant look on her face.

B. Shelter

As much as she likes the rain, there is a point when the novelty does wear off and she realizes she's not getting anything out of it except cold, wet clothes and a cranky Eevee. So eventually, Amanda will be choosing to head inside to enjoy a cup of hot chocolate. When she's sure her hair is mostly done dripping, she'll have her tablet out in front of her and will be tapping at it whenever she's not trying to keep Heddy from crawling up on the table.

Still, even though she's occupied, if someone walks up to the table she won't be annoyed at being interrupted at all, although she might have more trouble keeping her excitable Evee from jumping over to them]

C. Wild card

[want something else with Amanda? Hit me up at keenquing]

Memory Share | Closed to Arthur and Kavinsky

[miss_brilliant]

Amanda had hesitated in sharing this for the obvious reasons. But she's not sharing the accident, and she doesn't have much else that comes to mind. So, she's doing this, and maybe it's cowardly to only share it with the people she's really told parts of it to, but even so it's helping. Maybe that will make her feel better about it when it's done. Maybe.

She does still take a shuddery breath as she lays down, and she doens't even try to convince herself it's due to a chill or anything but the fact she's sharing a part of Nick.

[This can't be real. You must be incredibly drunk, to imagine that Nick is actually coming into your room in the night.

But he's here. He's here, in your quarters, because you invited him and he said yes and he's staring at the bed and this is happening. Your heart is hammering in your throat and your palms are somehow both sweaty and cold, and it's frightening but not like if the same thing were happening if your body was the way it usually was.

You want to be clever and attractive. You've imagined this so many times, saying something so much better than 'Mr. Brilliant'. But it was never like this in your dreams. Never in space, never inside another woman's body. But it's your only shot.

So you just reach out, wordlessly, and touch his arm. Just his arm, mostly his shirt, but it's rough and warm and you can feel it and that's enough to make you tear up but you're not going to cry and ruin this, you're not.

And then his hands are on your back, he's holding you and his mouth is on yours, and god, he tastes...not like you dreamed, not after months without tobacco or coffee. Like whatever came out of the still, mostly, but still undeniably him, with that bit of stubble brushing your cheek as his mouth moves into yours. You have to close your eyes, because if you cry he might stop, he might---

Shove you away. Like he's doing suddenly, breaking his mouth away--]

Look, I'm sorry. Darling, I'm sorry. I-I-I can't do this.

[Of course. Of course after so long being the person who didn't see the chair, he can't see you now. You try to laugh. It doesn't work very well. Especially when you turn to see a mirror, and see an Asian woman looking back at you. You've been trying not to look at the gold band that isn't yours all this time, but it's impossible to ignore her face. Still, there were papers signed, she knew this might happen. Didn't she?]

Nick, it's me.

I think we both know it's a bit more complicated than that.

The word is insane.

Yeah.

[it's hard to keep from sobbing now, and you're definitely begging as you cling to him again]

But this is also a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me.

[and now he's the one tearing up, his voice is changed and--]

Mandy…you know, probably better than anyone, how I was when Gloria passed away. I recently experienced something that made me go through it all again. More than a dream. As real as this is to you now. And I can tell myself that it's been years all I like, but in my heart, it's just happened again.

[Gloria. Of course it's Gloria. God. You're horrible. Because you do know, you saw how he changed, pulled away. Except from you. You were the person he trusted, for whatever reason, or at least the person he let in.

What do you do, when the man you love is crying for a woman who isn't you, who's been dead for years?

There's only one thing you can do, if you really love him, if you don't want to seem like a petulant child being denied a toy. You reach out, stroke his cheek--savoring the rough stubble for what might very well be in the last time--and try to smile]

Well, at least this time. I can do this.

[and you hold him, let him sob into your shoulder and cling to you in return. And it's enough. It has to be.]

[ooc: video, from here to 3:01]

hanako 'rosalina' nurumi 🌹 ota

[hasitsthorns]

rain (nsfw-ish);

[ Ffffuuuuckkk this.

Ths isn't the kind of wet that Rose likes being. She'd gone out because the dogs were getting restless indoors after a few days of not being able to properly run and play. It's really coming down now but she thought she'd been alright. That was until a strong gust of wind stole her umbrella from her hands. It only took minutes before she was practically soaked to the bone despite her scrambling towards the nearest shelter. ]

Uuuuuuggghhh, [ the woman groans from a vacant building she'd ducked into. Her dogs are all calmly seated out front under the awning. They'll cheerfully great anyone familiar they approach but Rose is nowhere to be found. If one steps inside to find her though, they'll likely be greeted by a whole lot of skin. It wasn't like she was going to just sit there in heavy sopping wet clothes. Still, she also wasn't planning to show off her bare back with prominent lines of silvery claw mark scars. ]

-Woah! [ she'll exclaim with a jump soon as she realizes someone else is there. Also, y'know, fold her arms over her chest to keep from being completely indecent as she turns to face her company. She'd rather her chest be exposed than her scars, honestly. ] Sorry, didn't mean to give you a show. [ At least she still has her pants on? ]

temple;

Do you think this'll really work?

[ Someone sounds just a touch skeptical, honestly. If it helps, well... She'd be glad to have helped. But if it doesn't, that means there's a part of her life there for people to see that wasn't necessary. It's definitely something she has to mentally weigh before making a decision. Even knowing it's voluntary, that she can keep it from people she doesn't it's a big deal.

Rose doesn't open up easily, even these days. Even people she's known from Eudio for the better part of a year are still finding out things about Rose. ]

wildcard;

(( ooc have another idea? hit me up at puddingandpie or Discord me at Pudding#5286 and we can work something out! ))

1!

[hermajestyssword]

[The dogs under the awning were what drew him to the place to start with - the building had to still be in somewhat decent condition if someone were willing to risk their safety and their pets' sheltering there, right?

So he peers around the door frame, intent on asking if he can come in - just in time to catch the woman inside peeling her shirt off. He yelps, unable to help it, then turns his back as quickly as he can manage (which happens to be very quick) in order to preserve the poor woman's modesty.]

N... No, no! [He manages to stammer, and though his back is turned she might still catch the side of his face turning red.] It's my own fault; I should have knocked!

1

[smileslie]

[Mandy has been rapidly alternating between being melancholic and flat out pissed for the last few days, for no real reason she can pin down besides the fact the rain makes her think of London which makes her think of why she left London. Thankfully, she knows herself well enough to know when she's approaching the point of snapping at someone who doesn't deserve it, and she'd been toeing that line all morning and the only target would have been poor sweet Arthur who wouldn't deserve any of it.

So, she'd gone out with the excuse of having to grab something from the club to clear her head. All that happened was her head got soaked and she couldn't even light up because it was raining, so eventually now she's given up the venture as a lost cause. It always had taken her too long to see those for what they were. But she's also shivering and her shoes are absolutely flooded, so she decides to duck in doors just long enough to sort that out.

Surprisingly for her, she's too busy taking off her shoes to empty them out to notice Rose. She does note the sound of dogs, but as long as they're not jumping on her she's not bothered. She's lived in big cities too long to be put off by noise.

When she does look up, she laughs for the first time in what feels like years even if it's just a few days, even if the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes]

I think I should be the one apologizing for not having anything to pay you with.

alec / ota

[helical]

RAIN / the window's open; i see it coming

( the rain has been going on for days now. alec would be sick of it, if he could muster the energy to care about something like the weather. he has a lot more on his mind than the rain. besides, the rain seems fitting. it's as gloomy as he's felt, although it's been slowly getting easier day by day.

however, now that it's come to light a simple touch can trigger an exchange of memory, his moodiness has resurfaced. like a dark cloud in the furrow of his brow as he walks hurriedly in the rain, hands in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders hunched, attempting to make himself as small as possible while avoiding contact with others. that he has no control over which is the biggest problem, here. he's too private to be comfortable sharing most of his memories even with friends. not being able to give his permission for the exchange bugs him all the more after his return from home and his memories flooding back, adding layers to events he's still trying to process.

brooding as he is, he doesn't notice he's about to step into a puddle that's much deeper than it looks. his foot falls, water splashes up his pant leg, but most of all he's thrown slightly off balance. enough that his hand escapes his pockets and flaps out, looking for something to grab onto.

maybe you're standing right there and feel his hand on your arm, or maybe as he stumbles back from the puddle while cursing, you walk into his shoulder. either way,
as soon as alec feels the contact, his eyes squeeze shut in annoyance, preparing for the memory exchange to just be over and done with so he can wave you off and go on his way. )

OTHER / the light is soaking; over the ocean

( let me know if you'd like something specific with alec, and we can organize a memshare or other encounter!! you can reach me at midworld or charlie#5771 on discord. )

rain

[infatyuated]

[ mikaela is making his way through the town, exploring it as he tries to come to terms with being separated from his best friend. he's here to save his world and in turn save yuu, so he's determined about doing what he must.

but the rain is a bit of a nuisance. it's soaked his cloak and uniform, dripping off the pommel of his sword, and though it's good there's no sun out, the rain makes for an annoyance as it drips into his ruby-red eyes and streams down his cheeks like tears. it's been a few hours since he'd had his first taste of human blood ( yuu's blood, that he'd drank as actual tears streamed down his cheeks ), but he can already hear the beating of hearts around him, smell the blood in people's veins. he needs to get off the street and find shelter, but he's stopped by an unusual scent and an arm catching his.

eyes narrowing, mika looks over the person that's grabbed him. the man, not much older than him, both does and doesn't smell human in a strange way. however, he doesn't have much of a chance to think about it as a memory washes over him...

Ne, ne, Yuu-chaaaann!

[ it's mika, but so much younger. and instead of piercing red eyes, his are now a vibrant blue as they take in his companion. it's a surly boy of dark hair and green eyes whom mika is currently latched onto. the other boy scowls at him, a frown on his lips as he tries to shake off mika. ]

Get off, Mika! I'm going to beat up those vampires once and for all!

Don't be stupid, Yuu-chan. [ mika is smiling, tugging on yuu's arm before throwing himself bodily at the other boy so he can wrap his arms around yuu's neck. ] Besides, our family is waiting! C'mon!

[ again, yuu tries to shake off mika, to no success and huffs in displeasure. with a grumbled "I have no family!" yuu crosses his arms over his chest. mika merely laughs and shakes his head, used to yuu's denial... ]

[ as the memory fades, mika blinks and stares at the other man. and then a scowl forms on his lips as he glares at the stranger. ]

What did you just do to me, human?

[hasitsthorns]

She is, in fact, standing right there. She'd been trying to find them shelter, lead them to somewhere they could both get away from the rain. But then Alec stumbles after stepping into a puddle from Hell that was deceptively larger than it first appeared.

"Jeez, dude-" she starts, a quip ready on her lips about how he's not even drunk or something to that effect, but it stops short because as soon as he touches her something rushes to the forefront of her mind. Something that Alec can see, too, she'll soon find out.

It's raining and gloomy, gray puffy clouds lining the sky far as the eye can see. Rose peers up at it from under the awning outside a dimly lit music stadium. The show is long since over, nothing left but soggy paper and the muddy footprints as evidence of earlier rocking out. "C'mon, guys, you're not going to make me walk home in this?" she starts, but the men and women piling into a car at least make the attempt to look apologetic. All the seats are taken, no room left for the blond.
"Sorry, Rose," says a clean-cut man, grimacing. "I can swing back for you later but I can't promise anything."
She doesn't allow her shoulders to sag. Instead, she just smiles and shakes her head. "It's cool, dude, I'll walk."

She's anxious as she begins the trek 'home.' It's just a bedroom in someone else's place that was kind enough to let her stay for the concert today. It doesn't take long though before she realizes she's being followed. She'd known they were there, had noticed their presence at the show. Hunters. Her pace picks up but all it takes is one wrong move and suddenly someone's yanking on her hair, hooking their arm around her neck and dragging her into an alleyway away from the main thoroughfare. She gives a growl, "Whatever they're paying you, it's not worth it! I haven't done anything!" Not in years, at least. Not since back then.
"Shut up," is his only answer, emphasized by the feeling of a gun pressed to her temple and a tightening around her throat. "What they're paying me and knowing a monster like you will be dead is good enough."

'Monster.' She was that once, certainly, but hasn't been for a long time now. She's just trying to live. Rose already running ways she can get out of this situation without fatally hurting him, how she can escape when suddenly a shout of "Hey!" sounds from the edge of the alleyway she'd been pulled down. "Hey, leave her alone!" What a good Samaritan. Luck like that doesn't come around often so she's going to take full advantage of it. Rose gives a swift kick back to his groin, tilting her head in a painful way just as a shot fires off and ricochets through the alleyway. It barely misses grazing her head. The stranger showing some good will swears and decides this is a little more than they bargained for and takes off. Rose does too, now that the man's focus is elsewhere due to pain causing his grip to loosen.

The blond is a practical blur to the eye but it's too risky to bring this back to where she'd been staying. The woman refuses to put any more people in danger tonight. Probably a good thing she ended up not being able to hitch a ride, they'd all be safe now. She doubts the hunter will give up so easily, he'll call for backup once he's come to his senses. There's too much money - and apparently personal investment - to just let her go.

So until she can properly shake them, she finds a dumpster in a different alley to dive into and prays that trash collection isn't tomorrow. Shaking scared, smelly, and alone isn't how she'd planned to spend her evening. But that's apparently what it means to be a 'monster.'

rain;

[bangitybang]

[they've met a few times before. at the citadel, mainly; checking out the largely dormant technology and interfaces in the 'situation rooms,' the screens overlooking the sea. there was one time they went to the same cafe too, and took up seats at the same long table, leaving one stool empty between them, speaking not a word. most recently, alec and vex had come back into town with a rented truckbed full of rock troll parts, the archer visibly favoring one arm. passing by, janus had overhand thrown a pack of gauze they'd been salvaging. unsurprising, alec had caught it.

it's not exactly surprising they're running into him again. partly because they've had such delightful !! encounters in the past, and partly because-- rain is a little impairing for janus, when they aren't on mission high-alert. they have some harpy characteristics in them, and being desperate to get out of the water makes them a little clumsy, smacking into alec inelegantly now--

and the stuttering memory is strange perhaps— familiar in some ways. there's a youth standing tall in a dark and urban space.

alec is that youth. no; he inhabits the youth for this moment.

and below him— below them, writhes a creature that some might call a monster, horned and fanged, eyes glowing and jaws dripping with blood. the youth carries a sword in hand, and with one fluid stroke, with perfect balance, they fell the creature. a liquid squelch and cracking of bone, an animalistic gasp of air. it only takes an instant, and its life flees its body, leaving behind nothing but a carcass.]

magnus lightwood-bane.

[lacquers]

rainy day memories, ota.

[ After a few days, Magnus is about ready to say enough with the rain. But whether or not he's done with the rain and the accidental sharing of memories, they are not done with him. One day, when it becomes necessary to venture forth for supplies, Magnus can be found walking the streets, sometimes with umbrella in hand and others without (and yet, his hair and makeup never seems to get disturbed). Depending on when you run into him, he might also have what looks like a tarp over one arm. He'll be amenable to stopping and chatting a bit.

After all, while the rain's going nowhere, neither is he. No particular rush, right? Then again, most people dressed as nicely as he would usually seem to care a little more about potentially being rained on and there might be times when you walk past him and he seems a little faraway for some reason. There's quite a bit knocking around in his head and this rain might just be making it worse... ]

silver ring, ota.

[ As a prize for winning at the fair, Magnus received a silver ring. It allows Magnus to "lull [a person] into a peaceful memory, effectively eliciting comfortable nostalgia, as long as Magnus is talking to [them] about such a memory or time." If anyone would like to take advantage of the effect, you can message me on his journal or get ahold of me on plurk at downworlder. I'd be happy to plot re: this item or potential memory shares. ]

ROSE.

[lacquers]

for rosie.

[ So, about that umbrella....

It has met with an untimely fate. As Magnus was walking along with tarp in hand, there came a moment when he had to choose to save two of three things: his umbrella, the tarp, or his outfit. The last of the three is a given, of course. And the tarp happens to be for his plants at home, because of which he's getting quite the green thumb, and consequently, there's little chance he'd risk their well-being if he has a choice in the matter!

So, byebye umbrella. Now Magnus is forced to choose between the tarp and his outfit and the outfit wins again. There's a chance he may round a corner with the folded tarp over his head and come very close to barreling into his dear friend on accident. He has good reflexes though, so maybe there won't be any actual collisions, just a quick ] Rose! [ and an abrupt halt in front of her. He musters a smile in these gloomy surroundings of theirs. ]

Fancy running into you!

TONY.

[lacquers]

for IRON MAN. (black sabbath plays in bg)

[ This rain is just relentless. First, it ate Magnus' umbrella and forced him to use his tarp to keep water off what looks to be an improbably perfect hairstyle. Not a hair out of place! It's unquestionably suspicious. Super suspicious, right?

Well, never mind for the time being. On his way back home, he's going to happen across an interesting sight. At least, it's very interesting to him. Stopping with the tarp still held overhead, he cocks his head curiously in the direction of man and machine. ]

You know, I think you might need this more than I. [ Eyes rising, Magnus looks at the aforementioned makeshift umbrella slash savior of tiny pots full of plant life, then he gazes into the rain, which is nearly everywhere, it would seem. It's sort of tough to stay practical about keeping it at bay.

If Magnus hands over his tarp, it's likely the solution that keeps his plants from drowning is going to be as magical as whatever's keeping his hairstyle intact. ]

nico di angelo ▪ open + anonymous memshare

[deathkid]

𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙜𝙤 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 ➨

[ nico doesn't mind rain. on a list of things that annoy him, rain wasn't up there. mostly because it was far preferable to a lot of things he's experienced in his life ( like the fiery waters of the phelegethon ) and really, he doesn't see what the big fuss is. the rain means he doesn't have to water his and will's little herb garden and nico figures once the rain has passed, the air will feel fresh. something he looks forward to.

the more time he spends in the rain, however, the more he notices his mood seems to veer in a positive direction. he feels uncustomary cheer and at some point he reaches for the person closest to him, grabbing their hands and twirling around in a circle with them. ]

There's something refreshing about rain, isn't there?

[deathkid]

𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 ➨

cw: violence, forced outing

[ the memory opens without any name attached to it. nico thinks it's better that way give those who know him will be able to tell who the memory features. and really, this isn't a memory he really wants to share, but nico has always been a little self sacrificing and if it'll help the city, he'll open himself up.

it's set in the ruins of an ancient roman palace. columns and stone are strewn about, and among it all stand two boys. one is bright, all blond hair and piercing blue eyes. the other is dark, shaggy black hair and black clothing. and as the scene progresses, it's clear there's a third someone hiding somewhere among the rubble.

suddenly, something comes zooming out of nowhere and all around the boys, columns begin tumbling, walls begin collapsing. the blond boy stumbles, but it's the boy with dark hair that steps forward, swinging an arm out in anger. ]

Stop it! It's me you want! Leave him alone!

[ the blond collapses near nico, who steps forward, his sword out. he stands as tall as he can, but there's clearly fear in his eyes.

then, suddenly, from seemingly nowhere and everywhere at once comes a voice. it echos in the ruined palace, bouncing off stone and wall alike. nico whirls around to try and find the source, but fails. ]

Poor Nico di Angelo. Do you know what you want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. It was the only way to atone for her lack of faith. And you—what have you risked in my name?

[ for those who haven't guessed at the speaker yet, it's cupid. god of love. and nico glares, snarling at the unseen god. ]

I’ve been to Tartarus and back. You don’t scare me.

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

[ next to nico, the blond pulls himself up. but as he does, the ground shifts. the grass at his feet begins shriveling up and dying. the stones at their feet crack, as if something is trying to work its way to the surface. ]

Give us Diocletian’s scepter. We don’t have time for games.

Games?

[ something slams into nico, and he hits a nearby crumbling wall. ]

Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work—a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you—especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

[ next to nico, the blond stands, glancing over at his shaken companion. ]

Nico, what does this guy want from you?

Tell him, Nico di Angelo. Tell him you are a coward, afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him the real reason you ran from Camp Half-Blood, and why you are always alone.

[ screaming suddenly, nico lashes out. skeletons erupt from the ground and crawl to the surface. many are dressed in either togas or roman armor. ]

Will you hide among the dead, as you always do?

[ waves of darkness roll off nico, slamming into his companion and making the area around them colder. the skeletons grip hold of something invisible and begin grappling with it. ]

I left camp because of love. Annabeth, she—

Still hiding. You do not have the strength.

[ one of the skeletons is smashed to pieces. the boy next to nico makes placating gestures. ]

It's okay, Nico. I understand.

No! [ nico's face is awash with misery and pain. ] You don't! There's no way you can understand.

And so you run away again. From your friends, from yourself.

[ nico trembles and the skeletons go back to grappling with cupid. the undead have cupid pinned, but the god merely laughs. ]

I don't have any friends! I left Camp Halfblood because I don't belong! I'll never belong!

Leave him along, Cupid. This isn't...

[ shaking harder, on the verge of tears, nico looks up at his companion, a mask of pain and suffering covering his features. ]

I- I wasn't in love with Annabeth.

[ the blond boy merely gives nico a sympathetic look, understanding shining in his bright, blue eyes. ]

That’s why you didn’t want to be around her. Especially why you didn’t want to be around... him. It makes total sense.

[ all the tension, the fight, everything seems to melt out of nico. the darkness fades, the roman soldiers crumble to dust, and nico holds himself as if that's the only way he can find solace. ]

I hated myself. I hated Percy Jackson...

[ his voice is like shattered glass and a tear rolls down his cheek. that's when the memory fades. ]

john murphy | the 100

[rekt]

RAIN/ACCIDENTAL MEMORY SHARES;

[ when rain first happened on the ground, it was incredible. real rain, and everything about it had been magnificent. later, when he'd been left on his own in the wild, he learned it was deadly. but here, he wouldn't have to run to a cave, strip out of his soaked clothes and bundle up in furs to try to keep himself warm before he got sick. there's a warm apartment he can head back to, with a heater, hot showers, warm blankets, a few new sets of clothes.

so, he takes his time to leisurely stroll through it all, maybe even humming a song, splashing in a few puddles. it's a pleasant little trip.

but, by the time memories start to bleed on contact, these strolls of his get dangerous. without the machines in the temple to filter out the bad bits, anyone who brushes against him has a high chance of getting one of the morbid, horrific, terrifying or torturous memories he carries along with him. See the prompts below to take your pick of any (save for the Ontari one). He's seen his father executed, found his mother's dead body in a pool of vomit, spent most of his teenage years in a space station prison they called 'sky box', was damned down to Earth's surface to attempt to survive among vicious, war-like natives, ones he was tortured by 3 times. Seen friends and other children die in gross and horrible ways. Been nearly killed several times. And, oh, got a girlfriend for a little bit. One of the few bright moments in his life.

Enjoy. ]

MEMORY SHARE - PRIVATE TO KAVISNKY;

You're not gonna wanna see a lot of this. [ it finally became too much, when he'd been with kavinsky in his bed, bodies moving around each other, pleasure mounting and shooting blissful fire over his skin, up to the point that k's hand landed on his throat and squeezed. it's happened in an instant - all it took was the brief reminder of the collar on his neck, and suddenly k was in that room with him. standing before the false grounder commander and trying to say no. the one thing he'd never wanted to have to think on again, and it was out in the open. suffice to say, he's awkward now, skin feeling like it's itching, hating the idea that kavinsky must see him as something weak and conquered now. some trembling victim. he wants this rain gone, fast. ] At least, this way, the painful crap's muted.

[ Better off that the people who'd accidentally brushed up to him in the city and had the full experience of torture and horror, suddenly falling over in the streets, screaming in agony, clutching their fingers over the phantom feeling of nails ripped off, or their shoulder, as boiling hot oil was poured over it. knives slashed and stabbed along skin, ropes biting trenches into their arms, a spiked whip lashed across their face. these are the things he's here to drop off, not only from keeping others from witnessing him at his weakest moments, but for having to endure them with him. it was cruel enough to live through it, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone else.

and murphy would really rather not live through it again, but hopefully the machine doesn't make him - just whisks them away like the brief images of the past they are. he knows, viewing them later, you'll be able to tone down the volume on it all, but this, laying back under the technological screen, the bright lights and beeps that come from it, feels like willingly walking himself into a nightmare. with kavinsky's fingers on the edge of the bed, murphy's reach out an inch or two, to lock one or two together, swallowing against his fear. time to get started. here's the fun selection kavinsky's given, for safe keeping -

» A Girl Dies, Murphy's Banished [CW: CHILD DEATH]; There's something close to horror in his mind, as Charlotte turns towards the cliff. Surprise, in the least. He wanted to drag her back to camp, yes, he wanted her to take punishment for something he'd been the whipping boy for. Had he wanted her to die? He couldn't say, and Bellamy's on him before he has the time to have a crisis over it.
» Murphy Gets Tortured/Escapes [CW: GORE]; It starts before the clip here, Murphy captured, and goes through the three days and nights he'd spent in the Grounder prison camp. The torture he'd gone through, the fear screaming through him. Blades and barbed wire and pliers pulling at his skin, marring him, his own voice sounding alien and brittle as he screamed. The times he'd passed out, the times he'd thrown up, the hunger that gnawed at him and constant, throbbing, searing pain.
» Murphy Gets Revenge/Some People Die; Two boys die, and Murphy only feels a cold satisfaction. Feels powerful, here. A bandage to the helplessness he'd felt at the hands of the Grounders, at Bellamy and Clarke's feet, and the end of the rope these people had put around him. He feels drunk on it.
» Murphy Hangs Bellamy; Maybe he would've killed more, before Jasper showed up, but this was the ultimate goal. The one he truly held responsible. The worst betrayal of this all. Murphy'd had his back, stood at his side, fought for him, harassed for him, considered him a friend. And he'll never forget the moment Bellamy kicked the box out from under him.
» 3 Months of Isolation + Almost Suicide [CW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT]; Hopefully Kavinsky gets the option to fast-forward through a lot of this, and it's more of the blur the clip gives, but the feelings of insanity soaking in and despair choking him are all there.
» More Torture; With the army leader outside the drop ship camp, tied to a tree, as a knife stabs into his thigh and twists. slashes across his face, metal covered fists of warriors slamming into his cheeks, boots against his ribs. He tells them enough to make them happy, but keeps one part in - the mines. An explosion rips through the night air, and a part of him is proud, before another blade meets his flesh again.
» Watching Alex Murphy Get Floated; He's a boy, still coughing and feverish, as they drag his father towards the airlock, his mother holding him tight as he asked her why, and the sight of his dad begging underneath a guard reading out his sentencing - the punishment for stealing medical supplies, like all crimes on the ark, was death. He sobbed and weeped and groveled at Jaha's feet. Murphy would feel his mother's scream through the chest she held him to, as the airlock opened, and Alex Murphy was sucked out into space.
» That Ontari Scene [CW: RAPE]; And finally, this. The one Kavinsky'd seen before, but in more detail now. The bite of the metal collar around his neck, the complete belief that this brutal, savage woman would pick up the closest sword and run him through if he refused her, and the sick dread, shame, and violation that he had to choke down to even get hard enough to manage this with her. Thank god for teenage hormones.

MEMORY SHARE - UPLOADED TO THE PUBLIC/OPEN TO ALL;

[ murphy leaves a few open to everyone, the ones less dangerous, less exposing. a couple instances of horror, because there really isn't enough of joy in murphy's life to share, but he figures it's enough to do a good part in getting the damn rain to stop.

» Watching Space; If you've never seen space before, here you go - looking at the Earth turn from the wide window of an observation deck aboard a space station called The Ark. He'd been small, and it filled him with awe at the time. This was before it started to get routine, boring, just the wallpaper of the tin can they were all trapped in.
» Dad Brings Medicine; When he'd been young, maybe 10 or 11, he'd gotten the flu. There was only so much medicine allotted to the people, and his family wasn't of the kind of important personnel status that meant they'd get priority on it. But his fever was high, too high, and his mother and father fretted. He'd heard them arguing one night, through fever warm delirium, and the next morning, his father was looming over him, helping him sit up in bed as he fed him medicine with a spoon. His hands were warm, and when he hugged him against his chest and kissed his head, Murphy thought there'd never be anything wrong in the world again.
» Seeing Earth From the Ground, For the First Time; He's behind Clarke and Octavia, and like the others, he's apprehensive, terrified, of what radiation will eat their skin away when that door opens. The light filters in first, and he flinches away, instinctively, but it's only warm, not searing. The air smells musky with a dewy morning forest (something he won't recognize for much later), and clean. No machine hum, no artificial lights, no cold steal. Just Earth, and it's so beautiful he could cry. Instead, they all shout out, run into the bushes, tousle around and throw grass at each other. For the first time in so long, he feels like a kid again.
» Mob Justice; It's probably best you don't turn on the pain for this one, but the fear is definitely there. The sadness, the loneliness, and when Bellamy, the one he'd considered a friend, kicks the box out from under him, the betrayal.
» Murphy Meets A Girl; And has cute little crushy feelings. She's pretty, and she likes talking to him, and there's something of a bond there, and she doesn't hate him, and she's cool as hell. Somewhere behind the memory, there's a warm, kindling kind of love gently blooming. He misses her.
» A Whiny Guy Gets Eaten [CW: GORE, MONSTER EATING A DUDE]; Abject horror. Basically just that. Also, Chancellor Jaha, ladies and gentlemen.
» Murphy Does The Right Thing; And it's a little bit cool. Also look at him, saving those bitches who lynched him that once.

That's all he's got, folks. ]

tw rape, torture, cannibalism, etc. per memories shared above

[pillz]

[so this is episode ten out of fifty two, where kavinsky thinks he's hit an all-time hardcore phase of life, you know, surviving a multiversal apocalypse after childhood drama and attempted suicide, becoming a fucking vampire hybrid, fucking like twelve people at the same time, like. he's pretty impressive, definitely the protagonist of his own storyline.

then murphy rolls in with his whole, i've been raped, tortured, half-starved, almost blown up by radiation kind of shit.

eudio taught him a lot of things, and most of it was good. however, the most double-edged of kavinsky's experiences there has been the sudden development of empathy. he suddenly has to feel bad about shit! like, when he's doing some erotic asphyxiation, a guy goes full on ptsd flashback, white as a sheet, boner gone, and even hours later, when the announcement comes out and the two boys head into the temple, it's clear that murphy's still not well, a greenish tinge to his complexion and a sweating tremor to his hands.

his life is hard, and the worst part is, it's not as hard as john murphy's. it'd be funny, if it were actually funny.]

You look like shit, sweetheart, [he says afterward, watching murphy's daemon dial the memory share interface closed. it's very fucking weird to watch a giant stag operate a computer inside of an ancient temple, but kavinsky's barely paying attention, looking at the animal without seeing him. he doesn't want to stare at murphy, who he realizes— incredibly-- has probably been through enough. he squeezes the other boy's fingers.]

juno steel / ota

[monologue]

THE RAIN ( OH SHIT )

[ juno's found a pretty decent corner booth to hole up in from the rain, but he isn't just sitting there having a hot drink. Nope. Instead, he's sitting there with about four unruly cats (ranging from straight up scraggly and old to scraggly and kitten-aged) and an extremely wet-looking peacock crowding the booth. the kittens themselves are wrapped up in his coat, which looks like it's seen better days already, but they seem content to mill about and mewl. ]

Hey, you, over there. [ real polite, juno. ] You look like a cat person. I've got four. How about it? Want one?

[ it's hard to take him seriously when the smallest is trying to clamber her way onto his shoulder. he has to catch it mid-way, a lopsided kind of smile to his face as he picks her up and holds her very carefully in his scuffed up hands. you can't have this one, clearly. she's picked him. not that juno knows it yet until she starts yowling for him when he tries to put her down. ]

Seriously. They won't all fit in my pockets and I think good old Pop or whatever his name is isn't going let me sit here much longer with 'em. They all swear they're well behaved. I gave them a good talking to about that.

THE RAIN ( GIMME SHELTER )

You don't ever really get rain like this on Mars.

[ scene: the citadel's bar and lounge. mood: nostalgic. why you're sitting with a schmuck named juno steel is anyone's real guess, but maybe you didn't have anywhere better to sit with everyone fleeing indoors. the citadel's cozy enough, and the corner seat you both are at (at the bar itself or in a small booth for two, doesn't matter, you just needed somewhere to sit, the both of you, maybe.)

his drink is mostly ice at this point and he frowns a bit. ]

( OOC if you'd like brief contact-initiated memories, let me know below and i'll cook one up for you, though they may come with content warnings listed here so let me know if something is/isn't ok! it's 100% unlikely that you'll get a memory based on the last option. )

THE MEMORY SHARE

[ sharing memories? this is pretty invasive for a first date, xistentia, but if it's going to... well if it's going to do something about this business with d.e.s.t.i.n.y. then far be it from him to deny the greater good. he's selective about all of it, hesitant, like peeling back layer after painful layer, but there are a few, and makes sure that none of them sting too too badly. this one'll do. and it is, indeed available to pretty much anyone. ]

mr. & mr. rose.
[ dahlia rose never got a script for his performance, just some papers with a newly printed identity. he's a married dame now with a name that "isn't half as pretty as juno." that's what he was told anyways. even after "duke" leaves to let juno park the car, he can still smell duke's cologne that he leaves behind. it's an overwhelming scent, and maybe that's the embarrassing part: how invasive the smell is for a memory: foreign spices, sharp and sweet and warm. you could bury yourself in it for hours. so could juno. he already has.

but juno has a job to do, so no more lingering on that. it goes a little something like this: con a retired jewel thief-turned-gambler named brock engstrom for the codes to climb aboard the utgard express (a traveling vault that hurtles across mars at thousands of miles an hour, crazy, right?) then snatch a dangerous martian artifact off of it, escape said locomotive, destroy that damn piece of ancient space garbage, and save the day.

simple, right?

so fast forward, juno parks the car, all of his paperwork as "dahlia rose" checks out and he's left here. a hotel room: empty, but lavish. his nerves? running higher than ever before. can he trust him? can he really trust duke rose? rex glass? ▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒? can he trust a man who runs from his names faster than juno runs from everything else in his life? god he wants to, wants to trust ▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ who swept him up into the best kiss he's had in a long time, who pick pocketed him with sly slender hands, who stole a mask out from under his nose. beautiful, impossible, nameless, fantastic, terrible, fox-toothed, full-mouthed ▒▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ hurtling in like a comet and whisking him away the way he'd always wanted deep down in the pit of his stomach.

a phone call stirs juno out of his internal panic. the duke of roses himself. he exchanges words briefly. ]

( You’re my good luck charm, Dahlia. If I could do this without you, I would have left you at home. Oh, and do wear that suit I love so much, will you? I hung it in the closet for you. Don’t say I never get you anything. See you soon! )

lo and behold: there is a suit hanging in a closet from this man, this newly-minted duke rose. juno tries to make it sit right, tries to make it believable, but in the end you and he both know that's not the case. he knows duke's real name, but you, dear viewer, don't and you never will. juno's mind is too stubborn (still too loyal). duke, rose, duke rose, duke rose. the funny thing is? there's something thrilling about all this, being part of a crazy scheme that makes his heart race. juno does his sort of best to look as dahlia rose as he possibly can. and hey, there's even an old tube of lipstick rolling around his coat pocket, so he tries that out just as well, figures it's worth a shot, figures that since he's dressing up anyways...

the finished product? doesn't look half bad.

voila. now you're dahlia rose now, in the flesh, walking toward engstrom's private gaming suites. yes. that's what standing between duke rose and you and that train. a card game. a stupid... stupid dumb card game.

and juno knows the role he's supposed to play the minute he stepps in, and he's fucking bored of it already. he steps in and stands close to duke rose like a little prize, a real good luck charm, all dressed up in brilliant, fiery red-to-orange gradients that looks more like a layer cake of old-timey earth sunrise: cinched waist, high collar. a lady wears this kind of suit and feels power at his fingertips, but juno's never been a proper anything really, so all he feels is lame. he gets the sense already from duke's elaborate show of fussing over him in front of engstrom, their target, that his role is... just him. maybe, a bit haughtier. too bad juno doesn't do haughty, just permanently pissed off.

dahlia should know exactly what he's doing, has duke in the palm of his hand. but really, juno's certain he's dancing at the mercy of this man.

it's a shame that dahlia rose really isn't a proper dahlia. isn't much of a flower at all. ]

memshare;

[bangitybang]

[someone like me, janus thinks. but is he?

the memory follows them around for the next half-hour, after they vacate the memory share bed. in the field, janus is a creature of certainty and tactical methodology, but in matters such as these, they are full of questions and doubts, questioning whether this is the same matter, if it matters at all. obviously there was a larger context to dahlia rose's existence. engstrom's private gaming suites, duke rose, it reminds janus unmistakably of the elaborate cover identities and missions that their cohorts are tasked to go on. personally, janus was never assigned to anything of that level, of course. their niche was the opposite to that one.

and maybe there's a sense of kinship there too— how uncomfortable juno had felt in his costume.

anyhow. anyhow—

they're trying not to stare as they see the now-familiar face down the temple's stone hallway. no makeup. rather dour. janus walks past him. focusing. one foot in front of the other, thinking briefly of the faraway patter of rainfall outside. and then,] You didn't look lame, [comes out of them, blurted, all of a sudden. they twist their head around suddenly.]

[cantseame]

A. Rain - OTA

It's been such a long time since Farraige was able to do this. When accompanied by Pyrius and Periwinkle he would often get strange looks for his preferences. While Pyrius might worry about the rain from his life as a regular moth and Periwinkle would worry about his clothes, Farraige reveled in the rain. It was the closest he could come to floating in the ocean as he would often to in his home town. For how close water was to him, being in it felt right.

Depending on the time of day one finds him, he could be in quiet meditation. He remains still and breathes softly while the water runs over his being and soaks him to the core, though it doesn't bother him any. Other times he might very well be cutting loose, utilizing his magic to manipulate the water around him into different patterns, shapes, and colors. He's been almost all business since arriving in the city, and he's not going to miss this chance to really let himself relax and let it flow, laughing and smiling all the while.

B. Shelter - OTA

Though he realizes not everyone might be so jazzed for the rain, he figures a larger gathering might be a good place to learn a bit more on their situation and others there. After all, it's not often he would make a physical appearance. Having fallen back into his old ways aside from a few exceptions, he's doing his best to offer a good joke or an awful pun to raise the spirits of folks around him.

His first time to the control room is a fascinating one, examining all the displays and tools about and asking anyone who looks like they might know more about the devices laid out here. Even as his daemon floats along and attempts to offer information, Farraige is a bit more hands on with his learning. Someone might want to stop him before he presses something he shouldn't.

C. Wildcard

((Hit me up at chrysm if you wanna plot something specific or memory share!))

[cantseame]

For Rosie.

In a place relatively secluded but close to home, Farraige is attempting a process he's only done a handful of times before. With the rain ongoing and the calmer atmosphere, he figures it's as safe as it'll ever get to attempt separating himself from the creature, at least temporarily. While it has happened before, it's something he has been wanting to try under more controlled circumstances.

His left hand falls to the bracelet on his arm, serving as both bind and connection to allow him to communicate with the creature. After a few minutes of concentration, it manifests before him. He notes the form has changed somewhat when it begins taking shape, forming as a spectral jellyfish that seems to emit a soft hum, changing in time and tune with the glowing fluid in its body. Its cap seems to glow with specks of color against an inky darkness that one could easily mistake for distant galaxies swirling about or stars in the sky.

While the bell of the creature is solidified, the tentacles are still somewhat translucent. It's enough, Farraige figures, for it to try moving around.

"Just take it slow, okay?" He says in a reassuring tone. "I don't know how long I can sustain you, so don't go too far or try anything crazy."

janus lefevre ⚔ ota

[bangitybang]

{ closed to ezekiel, pre-memshare }

[in the past day, the weather has gone from drizzling to real rain. rain-rain. janus managed to get in with the last batch of groceries, but since then, they've taken to lolling in bed, dozing in between periodic fits of pushups and doorframe pullups and breaks to eat or use the restroom or help shave zeke's head. it's: a lot of lolling. if you think about it, this the human-shaped equivalent of a bird hiding under under a branch, feathers puffed, disgruntled. it makes sense because they're part harpy.

this grey morning, they're sleepily admiring their handiwork with zeke's skull, tracing their fingers over the fine brown skin that they'd meticulously trimmed yesterday. everything about zeke's body is so perfect, they think; it's so him. eight years later, it's nice to remember. (it's also nice not to fight.)]

Ezekiel? [they whisper. they scrunch their head down lower to look at zeke's face, see if his eyes are open or fluttering, and if they aren't!! they'll pet his head and whisper more vigorously until he wakes up.] Ezekiel, I think we should do something to remember home by. A commemoration ritual.

{ open rain prompt }

[after three solid days indoors, janus can no longer stand it !! even though rain is their least favorite. the cabin fever drives them outside. objectives vary from groceries to patrolling the city for unusual animal behavior. they're going around looking like the antihero from a terrible pleather goth action show with a heavy electronica soundtrack: dressed all in black, always, their coat slapping around damp and boots squelching gracelessly, sword strapped over their back. now and then it gets too much for them-- they might scoot in with you in a shop or under a cafe umbrella.]

{ If you'd like a memory share, please hit me up via PM or on Plurk! }

<3

[salveo]

[ Zeke didn't mind the rain and continued to do his routine. It reminded him of Maui almost, despite the very non-tropical setting, it was very wet. Wet he could deal with a lot more than he could deal with the fact that he was having strange dreams, and he was constantly worried about his uncertain relationship with Janus as well as his world and--

He couldn't help it, Zeke was a worrier. Yet somehow he didn't look it, he appeared to be completely relaxed in the tiny bed with Janus. He didn't want to buy a bigger one for several reasons, one being that he loved cuddling with them so much that the extra bed space would be completely wasted, and two he didn't want them to think he was forcing them into a commitment. Even though he knew he technically was, he was being a lot more pushy than he had been in Mythian. He should back off. He should, but he won't. ]

Hm? [ Oh, they had a nice voice. And face. And freckles. So many freckles... His golden eyes were barely open and warm with admiration. He hadn't really been asleep, there was too much on his mind. ] That's a good idea. Um, should we make a statue or something?

COMMANDER SHEPARD. ▎ota.

[upside]

ＭＥＭＯＲＹ ＳＨＡＲＥ
a story of life and death.

( the normandy.

fastest ship in the galaxy. cutting edge technology that would make ( and has made ) a quarian cry. disengaged ftl drives. emission sink active. stealth mode activated. a sleek interface and a crew to match, sharp uniforms calling air to a cause greater than what any fleet has attempted before -- manning and defeating the artifical intelligence life called the geth. and you, the leader of it all, commander jane shepard, the crew's idol.

there on the radar. a cruiser spotted. following the ship? it couldn't be, stealth mode is on and the geth -- )

Brace for evasive maneuvers!

( this comes from the ship's pilot, a man named joker. the normandy hurdles and tosses the crew around, avoiding fire from the cruiser behind. the reload time is nothing at all -- it shoots again, strikes the ship, tearing through protective layers of lightweight metal. bodies fall on the floor. the entire ship is a state of chaos. )

Kinetic barriers down. Multiple hull breaches. Weapons offli-- somebody get that fire out!

( a fire in the cockpit seems like the least of your worries -- the normandy, the beautiful, tech forward and art-savy normandy, is losing this battle. bad.

you have no choice. you -- )

Shepard!

( liara, you know the voice immediately, fastening your space helmet on your head, you turn from a panel on the normandy's status to meet her, happy to have your expression concealed. if your hands shake, she either doesn't notice, or has the courtesy not to say anything. )

Distress beacon is ready for launch.

Will the Alliance get here in time? ( you think. the ship rattles again and knocks liara off balance -- you catch her, nodding once. you have no doubt. grabbing a fire extinguisher, you toss it her way, helping to get rid of some of the fire blocking her path. )

The Alliance won't abandon us. We just need to hold on. Get everyone onto the escape shuttles.

Joker's still in the cockpit. He won't evacuate. ( she turns to look at you. ) I'm not leaving, either.

( you take a deep breath. there's no time -- and the crew's safety, that's what's important. you chase to her side. )

I need you to get the crew to the evac shuttles. I'll take care of Joker.

Shepard ...

Liara. Go. Now.

... Aye aye.

( liara runs off. she's a good soldier, you think, giving the captain's order to release the shuttles, watching them leave before continuing onward. manning your way through the debris that has become your ship, you force your way forward, hearing joker echo mayday mayday! through the intercom. for as loud as it is in the pit of the ship, when you reach the upper levels, it's quiet -- dead space, the ceiling protecting you from the ultimate doom of space missing entirely, showing the picturesque image of a nearby moon, something you might've enjoyed if not for the unknown enemy destroying your ship. you can hear yourself breathe in the comms of your suit, heavy and emotional, swallowing down the thicker parts of grief as you push forward. you can't think about what's been lost -- only what you still have to save, joker sitting in the pilot's seat.

you push forward, coming up behind him. )

Come on, Joker! We have to get out of here!

No! I won't abandon the Normandy! I can still save her.

The Normandy is lost. Going down with the ship won't change that.

Yeah ... okay. Help me up.

( he has a condition you know about -- something that makes his bones brittle, with a name you can't remember off the top of your head. you have to be careful, but it's not impossible, helping him up with his arm around your shoulders, before -- )

They're coming around for another attack!

( a shock of a laser blasts through the pit. okay. okayokay. forget it, no time for careful. you come back to joker, gripping him tightly, probably shattering his arm if the way he hisses in your ear is anything to go off of, but a broken bone is better than a dead body, so you decide joker will just have to deal with it.

limping, you half pull half carry him to an escape pod, forcing him inward. before you get the chance to follow in after him, the ship splits apart, and the sheer force of it sends you flying backwards, away from him. you hear joker shout commander! shepard!, but it's too late, you're already too far gone and another blast sends you battling further off into space, body a useless puppet being flung by explosive force.

you get a nice view of the normandy being totally demolished, right before your very eyes.

fine. take the ship. you look around for an escape route, a way out, some miraculous thing flying by you can latch onto and ride to safety.

and then you realize your oxygen tank got unlatched, parted from your helmet. you writhe wildly, trying to catch that pulled tube, but the world steadily gets darker with the less air in your lungs, your head feels like it's about to explode from the built of pressure, your eyesight is going in and out and you feel cold all over, and then

you die.

dying is a lot like space. cold, dark, and full of mysteries. )

i skipped through the video to refresh my memory AND BROKE INTO GOOSEBUMPS (cw ableist language)

[servomotor]

[It's a lot.

To be perfectly honest, it's too much. Tony stopped getting panic attacks something like-- a year ago? Time blurs together. It feels like a long time, until it feels like yesterday, that he'd lose his shit in the middle of a bar and grill because some kid with glasses asked him how he got out of the wormhole. Jackhammers in his chest, cold dread scuttling spider legs down his spine, nausea like a horse kick to his gut. Too many animal phrases. After that, the elbow-height dork with the potato gun had spazzed him out. That isn't politically correct, spazzed out, but it had felt accurate in the worst and most awful stereotypes about mental illness. He couldn't handle a Goddamn alleyway.

It's almost like that, seeing her memory. Drifting alone into the cold vicissitudes of deep space, nebulae spinning in the distance. The light going out. No hope of home. No promise of prolonged-- oxygen.]

Free beer for you.

[Clink. He sets it down on the stone ledge by her bed.] Don't-- ask me how I got in here, but there are no 'No Food and Drink' signs. Say, I dunno how you can stand to stay in that thing, [he adds, nodding down at the glowing pod below and around her.] Masochism?

Ion Fortuna | OTA

[hermajestyssword]

I. The Rain
[Ion only minds the rain inasmuch as it keeps him pinned down wherever he happens to be during the day - the clouds don't block UV rays, and even if he were inclined to use up the small supply of anti-UV gel he brought with him (he isn't), the gel is water soluble and all too likely to wash off. It's best not to risk it, really.

So he spends his days sheltering in the temple - Abeld has, by now, explained the importance of interpersonal connections here. But he's never been especially good at sitting still, and the press of bodies (the scent of blood) makes him even more stir crazy by usual. So by night, he slips out to wander the city.

He makes an effort not to make contact with anyone, having heard by now about the involuntary memory shares the rain is causing. His life has been a lot better than some, but there are still things he doesn't particularly want to share - or inflict on the unwary. It might still happen entirely by accident, though, whether because he trips and flails for balance, reaches out to steady someone else doing the same, or is so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly collides with this hypothetical other party.]

II. Shelter
[He has something of a sweet tooth, so the lure of inexpensive hot chocolate proves impossible for him to resist. Stopping in early in the evening and settling with his mug into a seat with good lines of sight on the exits quickly becomes a habit.

As the nights wear on and little happens to justify his wariness, more and more often he ends up paying less attention to exits, instead staring out into the rainy night and reminiscing.]

III. Memory Share
[He's a little skeptical about how much this will actually help, but. Provided he won't lose the memory in question, he doesn't see the harm either. So:]

[The memory begins with the sight of a dark-haired boy sitting inside, reading - as viewed through the window, looking in from outside.]

Radu! Come out and cross swords with me!

[The other boy's head jerks up, his book clattering to the desk in his suddenly loose hold.] Young Master Moldova!

[You wait impatiently on the lawn until he emerges from the house, practice sword in hand.] There's a clearing there that's suitable for practice- [You start to say once he finally joins you, only to be cut off.]

Ah! Sir, you're injured! [He drops to his knees, examining the scrape you'd scarcely noticed on one of yours.]

Oh, it's alright. I got caught in the branches just now, is all.

You should take more care, Young Master! If anything happens to you, I'll get a scolding from the Duchess of Moldova-!

Radu! [He stops, looking up at you.] You're no servant, so stop talking like one! And... call me by name. Call me Ion, tovarisch.

[The memory ends with the feeling of a smile stretching across your face as Radu stares up at you, wide-eyed.]

[ooc: Brought to you by these manga pages and my own admittedly faulty memory of the official Tokyopop translation.]

IV. Wildcard
[Choose your own adventure! Alternately, hit me up either via PM or at moony810 for a custom starter/memory share/etc.]

Mandy Slade | OTA + one closed prompt

[smileslie]

A. Rain

[living in England for so long, Mandy's well used to rain. That doesn't mean she's especially fond of it, but it does mean she's willing to brave it to go out when it's necessary. However, she doesn't bother with doing anything about her makeup and hair unless she's going to the club, and even then she waits until she's there.

So if you see her in the streets, you'll just see a woman with a bleach job that is quickly growing out and a black coat pulled tight and high to both to shield herself from the worst of the rain and to hide most of her face. Not just because she looks dreadful, no matter what Arthur might say, but because the rain makes her…

Well, as much as she hates it, it's making her bloody nostalgic. For the days when she and Brian didn't have a driver, or even a car that worked reliably. When they would go to secondhand stores together to find things like old curtains or dresses to make into costumes for him, when they stayed up all night talking about the possibilities space could hold, and so many other things that somehow still broke her heart.

Which means that she might be stopped dead in her tracks at some point, staring into the rain, possibly with an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips, as she's sucked into the past]


B. Shelter

[it's funny, that a place she's partially modeled off of Brian's first real venue makes her trip down memory lane less than being outside, but the Masquerade is so wholly hers that being here doesn't hurt at all.

Once she has her hair rung out and pinned to hide most of her roots and a little bit of makeup on, she can be found alternately joking and singing bawdy ditties on the little stage or wandering over to whomever might be looking for a refuge themselves. In fact, she might walk over to you, leaning over to show off what the black blazer and loose white puffy shirt she usually wears hardly conceal at that angle, bracelets jangling as she puts her hands on your table or leans her elbows on the bar next to you]

Hello there darling. Having a good time?

C. Wildcard

[want something specific? Hit me up at keenquing]

Memory Share | Closed to Arthur

[smileslie]

Given how much she would tell him that was ugly and painful, Mandy had to think hard about what to actually show Arthur. Because it was different to be told the stories and to actually see them with fewer illusions stripped away. Not that her memories could take all of them, of course, for far too many reasons, but still--the price of surviving the entire mess and not changing themselves meant that she and Curt had been left with truths that were ugly even when they tried to look through rose tinted glasses.

But he deserved...a piece of when it had been as real as it could be, when she thought Brian had really believed in a revolution instead of just fame, and had maybe seen her as an equal in that.

So, after steeling herself with a strong drink (...or maybe two. Or three.) she's come to the temple and lays back to quite literally think of England.




[If you stop to think about it--and you don't often, really because you don't have the damn time--it would be fucking unbelieveable. Three years ago you were living in two rooms where the heat didn't work half the time and had still cost an arm and a legs, trying not to shiver while you sewed sequins onto thrift store jackets. And now you--both of you, which is a thrill all its own--are getting dressed in a hotel room you didn't even know the cost of because Jerry was 'taking care' of everything and that was good enough, and you're heading out to dinner with the head of some magazine to hammer out the details for a photoshoot and probably screen the questions for the interview that will go along with it.

And it's still work, but it's worth it. You remind yourself of that, as you get your not-inconsiderable tits to get underneath the tight black sequin top]

His wife's coming too, isnt' she? [you ask, distractedly, as you notice Brian walking in from the bathroom, occupied himself with tying a purple cravat about his gorgeous neck] It's the blonde, isn't it? The one with the amazing rack?

[Brian chuckles, and you hear his lighter flick open, letting out a quick spark before he snaps it closed again, walking closer to you all at the same time. You've barely put your hand out for the second cigarette you know he was lighting before it's in your fingers] I think this one's the ginger. Polly or Molly. She's the one with the incredible legs and the good sense to show them off

[You smile around your cigarette, taking a long drag before setting it in the ashtray in the middle of your large collective mess of cosmetics, reaching for the silk jacket on the chair that matches his--your husband's, jesus, that's still a trip--scarf] Oh right. Think we can talk her into coming up for drinks without him this time? Not that I wouldn't take the package deal if that's what it took, but I don't think he'd be interested in anything more than watching, and I do have some limits to my perversions

[Almost choking on smoke, Brian then actually laughs at that--not the smug litlte chuckle he gives to interviewers, but an almost hyena-like cackle] If Mandy Slade has limits, I must be in line for the throne

[it's absolutely ridiculous what hearing him say your name--your married name, something you swore you'd never have not long ago--does to your heart and other places far further south, still. But you manage not to show it in a way anyone but Brian might see, limiting yourself to an eye roll and a gentle smack on his shoulder. He jerks away, still chuckling, before darting in to set his own smoke aside and then to flick the tip of his tongue against yours] I think between the two of us, we've got more than enough charm to make her see reason for a night. We'll tell him...that you're fitting her for a new dress. He won't have to know you've already got her measurements memorized

[You can only shake your head, still disbelieving that this talented, bizarre man is not only real but yours. Even if you don't always share your other lovers, he always comes back to you, and that is the truly incredible thing in all this. Not the money and fame and attention, as mindblowing as that is--but that you haven't lost him to it

There's a sharp rap at the door, then Jerry's booming voice] Hurry up you two, I'm a miracle worker but I can't keep them holding that table literally forever

[Brian, of course, is the one to take charge] Won't be a mo', Jerry [but he's grinning boyishly as he says it, winking at you.

[once you hear his footsteps fade away, you're both laughing, and he actually dares messing up his lipstick to kiss you quickly] Right. [he clears his throat] Let's get ourselves dressed so Molly or Polly or whoever owns those legs won't be able to resist getting us undressed so she can wrap them around us

[You only roll your eyes a little, an unspoken 'you're impossible', before kissing him back then quickly grabbing several things off the vanity, handing a few off to him just by feel,and then you're both leaning in front of the mirror to put yourselves back together, just so you can be undone. Together. Even if it turns out to just be another boring dinner with another boring suit, you'll be doing it together]

Vanyel Greyjoy | OTA

[drehnifusbahi]

A. Rain
[He doesn't mind the rain so much at first - he's dealt with worse, and it's not as if getting a little wet is actually going to hurt him any. Even getting sick isn't such a worrisome prospect when you have potions stashed away specifically meant to cure any disease.

But as it wears on and on and on, reminding him more than anything of the summer storms in Anvil, it does start to wear on him. The news that it's the fault of D.E.S.T.I.N.Y. -and, more to the point, the news that there's something they can do to stop it- is more than welcome, when it finally comes.

He braves the rain to make for the temple, taking more care than he usually might to avoid contact with anyone - brushing arms and shoulders is part and parcel of maneuvering through crowded city streets, and it's never particularly bothered him. But he has plenty of less than pleasant memories he wouldn't want to inflict on anyone, even accidentally, and he doesn't want to invade anyone's privacy, either.]

B. Shelter
[He ducks under awnings and into cafes when he gets sick enough of the rain, more for the chance to be sociable than anything else. He's always liked meeting new people, and now that they know this place runs at least partially on the same sort of energy that Eudio did... well, that just means getting to know his fellow refugees serves more than his own idle curiosity.]

Sorry, but do you mind sharing for a bit? [In this case, it's a booth in the diner -a hot drink and possibly a hot meal to go with it sound heavenly about now- and the person already in the booth he's eyeing will get an apologetic smile even as he asks.] Only, it doesn't look like there's room anywhere else. I'll buy you a cup of cocoa to make up for it, if you'd like.

C. Memory Share - Open to All
[Something reasonably light and cheerful seems in order, to combat both the weather and the general air of melancholy that seems to have settled over the city, so he chooses accordingly.

The memory begins on the Great Porch of Dragonsreach, with you standing before an enormous red dragon. The dragon is forced to crouch awkwardly under the weight of an enormous yoke, and you do him the courtesy of circling around into his field of vision so he doesn't have to try and turn his head.]

You have reconsidered my offer, hmm? [The dragon's voice rumbles, low and rough.] Onikaan kron? You will release me, if in return I promise to take you to Skuldafn and stop helping Alduin?

[You take a breath, square your shoulders - and send up a quick prayer to the Eight that you aren't making a horrible mistake here.] Yes. I'll set you free if you promise to take me to Skuldafn. [There's an outbreak of muttering and even one or two shouts of protest from the guards behind you, but you ignore them.

Odahviing, for his part, seems pleased by your response and a little amused by theirs.] Onikaan koraav gein miraad. It is wise to recognize when you only have one choice. And... you can trust me. Alduin has proven himself unworthy to rule; I go my own way now. Free me, and I will carry you to Skuldafn.

[You sincerely hope he's telling the truth about that - that you truly can trust him. But you don't have many other options left. Durnehviir might be able to carry you there, but the journey might also take longer than he can safely stay outside the Soul Cairn. So, you turn toward the guard manning the pulley that lowered the yoke in the first place.] Open the trap.

Uh... you sure about that? [The helmet hides most of his face, but his tone says plainly enough that he thinks you've lost your mind.] You want to let the dragon go after all the trouble to catch him in there?

[Imperials are supposed to be so cursed good with words, but all yours seem to have deserted you at the moment. This is a gamble, even you can't deny that, but it's a risk you have to take-]

Carry on, soldier. [Jarl Balgruuf cuts in, stepping up beside you and laying a hand on your shoulder.] This is all part of the Dragonborn's plan.

[So they do. The yoke is hauled slowly back up, and Odahviing rises, stretching his wings. You murmur a quick word of thanks to the Jarl before hurrying after the dragon as he makes his way to the edge of the Great Porch. His strides are so long you have to half run to keep up.]

Saaran uth- [The dragon says, glancing down at you.] I await your command, as promised. Are you ready to see the world as only a dovah can?

[With the moment at hand, what else is there to say but] I'm ready.

Zok brit uth! I warn you, once you've flown the skies of Keizaal, your envy of the dov will only increase! [He crouches, then, lowering his neck, and you climb on. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of Lydia and Erandur hurrying after you. But before they're anywhere near close enough to climb on themselves, powerful wings flap once, twice - and Odahviing takes flight.]

Sorry! [You call down to them.] Only room for one, apparently! [But the wind whips the words right out of your mouth, and you're not sure they even heard.

Dragonsreach falls away beneath you, smaller than a child's dollhouse, the city of Whiterun and the surrounding countryside spread out like a relief map around it, and- something in you thrills at the sight. Despite the fact that you had to trick him into doing this, that he may well be carrying you to your death... you can't help the joy that surges in you.

You laugh and whoop, and though the wind devours those sounds too, you can't shake the sneaking suspicion that Odahviing heard - and is quietly smugging about it, the bastard.]