[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

[thermalwind]

His temper rouses like a fire that has been fed enough dry branches to spread. Keith leans towards him his voice raising a hair. “I went over there to bring you back! I wasn’t trying to get rid of anyone. That side of the island messes with people’s heads. Even messed up I knew I’d do what I set out to do. I was a good choice to go in and get people to safety.”

He settles back into a more comfortable position as his anger ebbs again. “Of course you’re alive. That’s not going to change here unless something nasty gets to you before anyone else can save you.” He’s pegged Gabe as someone who has no idea how to function. He’ll step between him and danger no matter how weird or dangerous he feels.

[ungrieved]

“What’s the worst anything else can do to me?” He sounds downright incredulous as he says it. Not like there’s anything worse you can be than dead. Dead, and alive on a technicality, alive on a metaphor and someone else’s instability.

Alive on a latte and a prayer. Right, Dad?

[thermalwind]

“Do you really want to find out?” He grabs a stick and stirs up the fire. Sparks rise into the air and die out not far from the flames. This place has a literal god and maybe more beings like that. “You haven’t had much experience being alive.” Living is full of pain. His own memory of the trials of the Marmora should be a warning to that fact.

“There’s a lot that you haven’t dealt with before.”

[ungrieved]

He’s well acquainted with pain, thank you. It’s what has defined him for years upon years. There’s no escaping it - death is central to his story, even if he is more alive now than ever before. Than ever before.

“I’ve had more than you think.” He smirks at that one. “I’ve been around.”

In his mother’s head, in his father’s denial. In his sister’s resentment, and the doctors who wouldn’t listen.

[thermalwind]

“In what way? Haunting other people?” It’s not the same. He studies him and comes to a decision. “You never told me your name.” He can’t keep labeling him as That Weirdo for the rest of their time here. Well, he could but a lot of the people he’s seen and met could be listed under that. He crosses his arms over his chest.

[ungrieved]

“You never guessed.” Because that’s not generally how introductions work, Gabe, unless you happen to be little imps in fairy tales who spin straw into gold.

He’s not family, after all. He didn’t try to forget the name. Even Mom couldn’t remember, when the time came and it all came trickling back. He hasn’t heard it spoken aloud since -

Since he truly lived.

“I think I’ll keep you guessing.”

[thermalwind]

"So, That Weirdo. Got it." He's not playing games. Besides if his companion keeps following him like some really screwed up shadow he'll see it on his pack. Keith crosses one leg under himself and leaves the other extended.

"Got anything else you want to ask me?"

[ungrieved]

"You're the one asking questions." Gabe shrugs, his grin no less artless and his disposition no less smug. Not that Keith's really getting answers; Gabe's having too much fun to supply those so very readily.

He's already showing up in Keith's dreams. That's always the first step.

[thermalwind]

“Anything else you want to ask me?” It’s like talking to a wall. The grin grated on his nerves. Oh he could cure it but he isn’t like that. Not like he was in that forest.

“So we don’t have any more misunderstandings about my history or anything.” Chew on that.

[ungrieved]

"I think I know everything I need to." No, he definitely does not, but you won't hear him admitting it. That would put a real dent in his smug, all-knowing persona. That's taken enough hits in recent times already, if he's entirely honest with himself.

Which he isn't, but it's the thought that counts.