[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

Re: IV. then let my heart be hardened

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Even if he doesn't choose to lift his head and look at her, Ardyn will likely hear the soft crunching noise of footsteps on the sand as someone walks around the fire over to where he sits, and then slightly closer sound of her seating herself carefully down beside him.]

[One by one, Muffet has seen four dead men tonight:]

[An innocent child, who died crushed under the weight of a destiny that a grown man could not have borne.]

[A compassionate healer, who died infected by the plague he sought to cure for his people.]

[A caged, snarling beast, who died alone, unmourned, and forgotten.]

[A cruel, vicious demon, who died with his descendant's sword thrust through his utter lack of a heart, in the ashes of the life he'd burned to the ground.]

[All four of them are sitting here next to her tonight, however much he desperately wishes than he had been allowed to die and stay dead any time they'd killed him. She won't say that he hasn't got the right to want that, either- it might well be a kindness.]

[But neither of them have a say in the matter at this point. There's just the two of them sitting in a dream here and now- two inhuman beings, more or less as mortal and lost as each other.]

[If he doesn't say anything, she'll eventually break the silence- but just for now, Muffet sits beside him in silence, just quietly being another living presence that isn't something else from out of his past. It's not nearly enough, but it's where she can start.]

[scourgingstars]

...What.

[Ardyn greeted her flatly, hands buried in violet hair that had once been red and yellow eyes that had once been hazel focused on the ground. Damn it, damn it, damn it he hated every second of this. Hated the person he became now that he was sane enough to know better, hated that everyone knew what he was and what he'd turned into, and hated that he was too afraid to leave a miserable desert and bring the monster back to light.]

Go on, say something.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[As afraid as Ardyn was of the monster inside him, the monster sitting next to him didn't seem to be. Muffet takes his unhappy greeting in stride, answering in a calm, even tone:]

I'm just wondering if it would be all right if I were to hug you. Honestly, if you were another spider monster I wouldn't have waited long enough to ask- but even if you aren't one at the moment, strictly speaking, you were brought up in a human culture and I know most of those tend to be more concerned about personal space.

[Miss Manners did not cover how to comfort the ex-human avatar of a daemon plague, okay? She's making this up as she goes along, much like everyone else on this shitshow of an island.]

[scourgingstars]

...I'd prefer it if you didn't, I think. My body temperature is understandably miserable under this coat, and I-...

[. . .]

I am not exactly accustomed to being touched.

I actually had to ask a mod if Muffet could get people drunk at the Storytelling. :D

[prettypurpleparlor]

Fair enough.

[There's no judgement in her reply- he's allowed not to want to be touched if he'd prefer it that way.]

If unfamiliarity with it is the problem, specifically, I suppose you could start with hand-holding and try to gradually work your way up over time. Otherwise, I think we're down to either stupid but obligatory questions like 'are you all right' and 'do you want to talk about it', or getting incredibly drunk- and for some reason I'm apparently not allowed to bring alcohol with me into the ambiguously real collective dream world.

[Yes, she actually tried to test this. She clarifies, sounding ruefully exasperated:]

Technically speaking, if I fall asleep carrying some it shows up here with me like anything else does, but it has no effect at all. It's like drinking blackberry-flavored water.

omfg

[scourgingstars]

In order: I would prefer not to, I have not been alright for two thousand years, and while talking is something I find I do an abundance of, it would serve little purpose now.

[But Ardyn finally did straighten up a little, pushing unnaturally-colored hair out of unnaturally-colored eyes only for it to fall right back into place.]

...Shame, that. I suspect we could all have used it.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Muffet nods in agreement.]

I wonder why it works that way? It can't possibly be some kind of safety precaution, we're demonstrably capable of getting into trouble here whilst perfectly sober.

[She's looking at you, Guzma. And Jaune, if he's still anywhere on this island.]

[scourgingstars]

Blame the Storyteller. I find blaming gods always makes me feel slightly less miserable.

[prettypurpleparlor]

Hmm, I'll have to take your word for that- I'm still not used to the idea of having deities one can berate in person. Truth be told, I was never much of a believer back home- I swore by the angels, like most monsters did, but that was more habit than anything else.

...Well, that and it takes a particularly dedicated sort of atheist to shout 'ouch, random coincidence of the universe' when they burn themselves trying to bake a cake. It's just not as satisfying.

[scourgingstars]

[Ardyn actually managed a shaky laugh at the comment, smile halfhearted but no less sincere.]

My brother used to favor something like cursing by the Fulgurian's beard or Infernian's horns. I think we made a competition of it, once--which of us could come up with the most elaborate and ridiculous-sounding one.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Even without knowing what either of the deities in question is meant to look like, the mental image still makes her laugh quietly. Given how abstract most of their depictions tended to be, she's not sure what body parts the angels would even have beyond 'wings, probably'.]

Dare I ask what the winning entry was? Or is it not the sort of thing one says in polite company.

[scourgingstars]

Oh, I'm afraid I've long since forgotten.

. . . I more than likely won, though.

[prettypurpleparlor]

Naturally- you've a great wit. If not a terribly proper one.

[Judging by her impish smile, Muffet isn't quite as worried about propriety as she claims.]

[scourgingstars]

I never was very good with etiquette. Izunia was the proper twin, I was the rebellious one.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[As if confiding a secret, Muffet winks and explains in a low tone:]

The trick is to be calm, considerate, and control the urge to burst out laughing whenever something ridiculous happens. Generally if you act as though you're being very proper and serious, people will assume you're much more respectable than you actually are.

[A brief pause, and then:]

Also, it helps to have good posture.

[scourgingstars]

Oh, my, I've been let in on a brilliant trade secret.

[...]

Are you implying something's wrong with my posture?

[prettypurpleparlor]

Now, did I say that?

[Credit where it's due- despite sitting in the sand on a beach that might not really exist, Muffet's posture is still impeccable.]

Though you do have a tendency to... lounge, on every surface I've seen you sit on thus far. ...And while standing, somehow.

[scourgingstars]

I have a tendency not to care what others think of me, it rather goes hand in hand.

[prettypurpleparlor]

Well, so long as you don't wind up flopping over entirely. Half the time I see you standing like that, I can't help but wonder if the next stiff breeze is going to send you head over heels.

[Seriously, dude, why are you always posing. Do you ever just... not drama. At all.]