[MU] - DECEMBER STORYTELLING / MEMORY SHARE

[lifeaftr_mods]

Something is wrong.

This may not very well be obvious, at first. The Storyteller is not present to put forth yet another diatribe, informative or apologetic, and the backdrop of guttering flame and sandy campfire is as present as ever...albeit briefly.



Those who tell their stories will start to notice something...odd taking place. Indeed, no matter how they intend to begin their tale, the land of Mu will immediately start to warp to accommodate it, or something utterly unlike it, until storytellers and listeners alike may find themselves in an exact recreation of a seemingly random memory, in the most stark and painstaking of detail. There is no altering the memory, nor is there any preventing it once it's begun to play - you will simply have to witness memories that are not your own this go around.

Furthermore, stories that take place in worlds other than LifeAftr will be, frankly, inevitable. Those memories, too, will be recreated, to be relived by the teller and lived by the listener.

---

It is time, once more, for you to tell a story...with a slight twist! This is, in fact, our first player plot, as provided by Dragon! The initial setting will be familiar for oldcomers, and newcomers will recognize it from the introduction they received in their dreams.

Yet for this Storytelling only, people can imagine whatever stories they wish, from both their homes and their time on LifeAftr, as long as they don't mind the fact that others will be reliving those stories in the form of an impromptu memory share.

Even those who prefer not to voice their stories aloud are not safe this time around. If the memory is recalled in essence, Mu will shift to accommodate it in full.

There is, however, a benefit to this: those who venture memories to be relived will receive both a befuddled apology from the Storyteller, who will assert that this was most definitely not meant to happen (they're the Storyteller, not the Rememberer!), as well as a tired promise that the relived memories will be worth two offerings each, as if in compensation.

Not that it counts for much, probably.

Comments

[catpiper]

It's not the memory itself that makes her stiffen when she sees Taako out of the corner of her eye. The whole ordeal had been painfully normal to her-the dying child among many and hiding under a bed because that was the only place to go when she wanted to play with blocks. It barely registers as a blip in her mind and only the tremor in her hands might show she had any kind of reaction to it. Mostly the white coats, the familiar walls and the fear that's so ingrained in her about it all. She just hates that place.

But what makes her turn to look him in the eyes, silent despite his words, is the expectation something will change. For him to see that she didn't belong in a tent with them in the middle of the woods, something that's started to feel like a home-A place most adults recognized she wasn't supposed to have. A place she knows she shouldn't have. She waits to see his eyes harden, maybe come to the slow realization that she's just a tool for a failed project on his own, and doesn't belong in a place where she gets to learn about families. It's what she would expect from an adult, but-

It's uncomfortably long, maybe, the length of time she stares into his eyes, like she's trying to feel out the gradual change of his heart through them. But no matter how long she stares, nothing happens. Nothing changes. The kind tone of his voice doesn't turn into something cold and he keeps trying to find words that might make her feel better until he-

You get to be something else.

She's not sure how much he understands. Thinks he can't possibly get the full scope of what happened in that room or something would have changed in his eyes when he looked at her. But those words cause a beaming, wide smile to cross her face and the tension in her body vanishes. Nothing changed. He's still looking at her the same way he always has and saying nice words to her because he knows she likes to hear them.

"It was a long time ago. It doesn't make me sad." She hesitates, trying to find the words to express her gratitude and coming up empty except for-"I get to see Taako's pretty smile now. So that kind of thing doesn't matter anymore."

[ohshitsweetflips]

Oh good, he didn't just step all up in it with his dumb rambling, great, nailed it. He was worried for a second that maybe he didn't nail it but Taako pulls through yet again, who could have guessed, and he grins back like there was never any doubt. Taako doesn't have much time to bask in victory though, as he's almost immediately catapulted back into flusterment, blindsided by Ren's own distinctive brand of compliment. His ears snap forward, then back, incredulous.

He opens his mouth, and then visibly thinks better of whatever he could possibly say. Which is what, even? Listen, Ren, I'm a garbage fire adrift on the ocean and can in no way make up for your busted ass childhood, least of all by smiling, but thank you. Read the room, Taako. "...Hell yeah, damn right it doesn't matter, that's how we do--" would it be wrong to go for a highfive? He should have laid that groundwork earlier, probably, what a tragedy. "Being slowed down by your past is for suckers. I mean, look at me." This is what reading the room looks like when you have emotional dyscalculia. At least he's trying.

"But if you do get sad as like, a fluke or whatever, we can go draw on some fool's house about it. Gotta have all your bases covered."

[catpiper]

"I mean, look at me" and she does.

Even if it feels like she never stopped to begin with. From the day he caught her shoving her hands down his bag-back when it was fear that made her stare at him to-

Watching him cook. Watching him set up the store. Watching him take his special treasures there, most created with his own two hands, to share with the people around him. Watching him draw weird animals on houses next to her. Watching his face when he could sit and talk with his sister.

She hasn't wanted to look away. Not for one second because he's part of the reason why she's able to experience the things she is-why she can glimpse into a world that's not meant for her, but she wants to be in it for the short time she can.

She can't wait for Seto to meet him. To show him a heart that-

That shines so bright. Like a beautiful treasure.

"Hell yeah," Comes the tentative, happy response as she tries to copy his words yet again. "If Taako gets sad, we can do that too. We can draw and draw until our fingers hurt." There's a short pause and then." I'll make a happy mongoose for you. We can do that together."

[ohshitsweetflips]

Well, Taako doesn't get sad, so that shouldn't be an issue, but it's the thought that counts, right? And that's Ren's specialty, he's coming to find out. Her own particular school of magic. Thoughtfulness? Empathy? Something like that, easy and natural in a way it will probably never quite be, for him. If accepting the gift of a carefully hand-drawn happy mongoose helps preserve that quality in some way, so much the better. Even if her mongooses are just long cats. Now more than ever he realises he needs to not fuck this up.

"I uh, thanks." He means it, but that's not enough. It's one thing to get vague intimations about someone's past trials and whathaveyou but this is still. Very stark, and kind of offensively impersonal? A whole world of things happening that will absolutely never involve him, but are still very real. "But you gotta-- I might not know." He clears his throat, steers clear of calling himself any kind of dumb in front of Ren, but he doesn't have to say it to make it true. He can be kind of...not good, at things. Shitty, even. "If you're sad. Because we're good at hiding, which is fine. You can just make like, a pile of rocks, and then I'll know." A secret rock-based emotion language. Good, right? Utilitarian. Thematic. Taako looks hopeful.

[catpiper]

If the stars align in her favor the same way they have since her arrival, he'll never know. A day hasn't passed where she's been distressed or upset, save for his mysterious disappearance. For those few days where she didn't get to watch him make breakfast or create items from thin air-where she waited by the beach, hoping the Storyteller found him and would make him appear on that sandy shore.

But that's in the past and as he said, they're good at hiding. Hiding treasures, hiding themselves, hiding behind words that sound true because they've said them enough to believe it. Everything. He understands. That's why his idea shouldn't shock her. It shouldn't make her fingers curl into fists, like she's trying to keep them from immediately placing rocks into little piles. Because she's not sad. Because it's in the past and it doesn't matter anymore. Even if the idea of stacking stones to go mongoose drawing with him is appealing. But she doesn't want him to think she's sad when she's not-she can't be. That's how it is. For someone like her, that's how it was always supposed to be.

She knows who she is, anyway, and the bits and pieces that get lost in translation are known by Taako, who says she can be something else. Who believes she can be something else and not meant for one, singular purpose. A person who looks at her with those soft eyes and lets her pretend it's possible to be better-to be stronger, to be someone worthy of receiving all the kindness he offers her.

She wants to pretend too. For awhile, she wants to believe it.

"I'll put my treasures into a pile, if my heart gets sad." And she expects him to do the same. "Your treasures are different-you can put your pointy hat on the ground. That looks like a tower too. If my heart can't reach you, I'll look for that."