Entry tags:
- #event,
- alec lightwood (shadowhunters),
- amanda perry (sgu),
- aymeric de borel (final fantasy xiv),
- era ra (final fantasy xiv),
- farraige oconell (oc),
- ion fortuna (trinity blood),
- john murphy (the 100),
- joseph kavinsky (trc),
- juno steel (penumbra),
- magnus bane (shadowhunters),
- nico di angelo (chb),
- rafaello d’este (oc)
RAIN & MEMORY SHARE
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
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.
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.
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...
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.
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.

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.
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.
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

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!

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.
no subject
but it's a date. well, it's a date as soon as the weather stops being such a bitch and they have a date. et fin ♥]