aftr_stories | [MU] - DECEMBER STORYTELLING / MEMORY SHARE

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.

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[Shepard is quiet for a moment, watching her friends dazzle their ways across the room. Jack gets up on the table and starts dancing as the other cheer and dance and she chuckles.]

It's incredible to look at this and know it really was all chance. If I hadn't been picked for being potentially being a Spectre or if Saren had never swung by Eden Prime that day...

[She shakes her head.]

None of this could have happened.

[The look on her face is forlorn and bittersweet.]

I just hope I did get it right. For them. For them and for everyone out there in the galaxy. [Her expression darkens a bit.] For everyone left, at least.

[Muffet pauses for a moment, unsure whether or not it would be a welcome gesture, then gently lays one hand on Shepard's shoulder- a touch meant to be comforting, but still light enough to be easily brushed off if she'd rather not.]

Even if you didn't get everything done perfectly, looking at this? I do still think you did it right. Perfection is usually something we chase, not something we achieve- but it doesn't need to be a perfect ending to be worthwhile.

[Sometimes you can't save everyone. The question you need to ask yourself is 'did I save everyone that I could?']

[Shepard doesn't start or move when Muffet places her hand. It feels odd but it also feels right. She relaxes just a tad. In the context of this memory it feels particularly biting in a way that strikes a place in the center of her chest.]

"If even one person is still left standing at the end of a war, then the fight was worth it."

[Garrus's words roll off her tongue with ease and she lets out a small huff of air.]

Perhaps I should try harder to remember that.

[Muffet's experience with war is limited to having grown up in a culture shaped by its' aftermath, carrying the consequences of a fight she never saw, so she doesn't say anything about it. Instead, she smiles gently at Shepard and adds:]

In the end, I suppose it's not something anyone else can decide for you- but for what it's worth, I don't think you're the kind of person to do anything less than her best.

[Shepard knows she does her best. She pushes as hard as she can as far as she can, though she knows that her best still isn't enough. Nothing will ever be enough, it seems, and the souls of all who have died because of her mistakes will haunt her for the rest of her days. But a gentle hand on her shoulder paired with a gentle smile and the vision of her friends dancing to some random techno music makes her smile and think maybe there is something to all of this.]

Thank you, Muffet. I appreciate that.

[She watches the memory a little longer and then sighs.]

There's no point in getting too wrapped up in the past, huh?

[It holds you back. Though she can't help but feel that she is the past now. There's no future back home. These kinds of moments are the best she will ever get.]

I think it's not bad to remember- just as long as it doesn't keep you from moving forward.

[She gestures at the memory in front of them.]

We know can do great things because we've done them before. Doesn't it make you want to see what new things we can do, if we try?

[Shepard is silent for a few moments, really digesting what Muffet says as the memory fades.]

That might be better for those of us who still have new things waiting for them. Still, it's a nice thought.

[She turns to Muffet and smiles.]

Thanks for sitting with me. I wish you could have been there. I think you would have liked knowing everyone.

[If only if only. She wouldn't want to expose Muffet to the horrors of the Reaper War though. She deserves better than that.]

[MU] - DECEMBER STORYTELLING / MEMORY SHARE

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We can probably wrap this soon.

sounds good to me!