[MU] - FEELING LIKE A GHOST (PART II)

[lifeaftr_mods]

"No, no...no!"

The Storyteller's voice cuts through the inkdrop-dark, frantic and scrambling. A distant blot of campfire gutters in the far distance - far from where you are. The disorientation of the week preceding this one has translated into Mu, and everything is hopelessly out of place. The Storyteller sounds muffled, clearly addressing someone or something else, their voice cushioned by the uniform, void-like night.

"Stop it. Stop it! I wasn't gone for very long at all. You can't behave for two weeks? You have to make it all...all...wrong? I can't keep this up - not with what I've had to do since returning - !"

Gradually, however, the shadowy campsite solidifies into being. Or...a semblance of it does, in any case. Four glistening pyres rear out from the shadows, each glowing a different color. The strange material that domes them almost resembles worked steel, forming different patterns against their multicolored backdrops.

[ ♆ ] The first glows a deep crimson, kicking scarlet embers into the dream-night air. Its pit sphere portrays a crowd of people in silhouette, heads bowed in genuflection - paying homage to some looping, many-coiled shape in the sky above.

[ ♆ ] The second glows a deep orange. Its pit sphere is worked into the shape of a looming mountain, with what might be some sort of village or ruin sprawled at its base.

[ ♆ ] The third's flames are a rich green. Its designs are most abstract; the starburst patterns that swirl across the metallic composition of its fire pit sphere could be explosions, maybe...or something else entirely.

[ ♆ ] The fourth pyre is one bearing host to golden flames, amber sparks sprayed out from behind the shape of a set of scales nestled among a flurry of birdlike shapes.

Beside each pyre is heaped a pile of sticks, colored to correspond to their respective flames. The Storyteller sounds agitated when they manage to speak again:

"Will you let them at least make the choice I left to gave them?" When there is no response, they sigh. "If you can hear me...I can't make it clearer than that, at the moment. Pick one. Pick one, quickly, and try to get out before it decides to make things worse! Just add a stick to whichever one looks best to you!"

Unfortunately, whether you abstain from voting or make your choice, that's not all there is to this night...



Tonight's Storytelling, further warped by Mu's capricious nature, will likely feel familiar to those of you who were with us in December of the year prior. Only this time, you don't get much choice in what kind of story you're telling...or, indeed, any choice in the matter at all. As you wake by the Storytelling campfire, Mu shifts to form three separate events from your character's present - which is to say, within one full year of their current canonpoint - 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.

---

While the initial setting will be familiar for oldcomers, and newcomers will recognize it from the introduction they received in their dreams, things will be far more similar to the memory share that occurred in December. All memories must be from within one year of your character's canonpoint. For questions, please refer to our OOC event post!

Even those who prefer not to voice their stories aloud are not safe this time around. The memory does not need to be willingly recalled in essence in order for Mu will shift to accommodate it in full.

Just like the last time this happened, all memories will be worth two offerings each, as if in compensation. So at least there's that!

Comments

[piercetheheart]

Not by a long shot but it's something. And the fact that it happened without any outside influences on him says a lot for what Iggy's trying to do.

[Convince him that there's good still in there, despite all the hate and rage.]

I guess... Gilgamesh was meant to belong to him, not-

[Not the Founder King.]

[piercetheheart]

[Gladio doesn't have the strength to even pretend like he's not crying. Seeing Noctis like that, seeing his King like that... he's pretty sure if it had shown him actually drawing the sword out of Noct's chest he'd have been sick right there on the sand.]

Hey... Kiddo.

[It's weak, quiet, his voice wavering and for a moment he forgets and simply reaches for Shion, only to drop his arm back to the sand with a grunt of pain.]

Sorry. Not... doin' so hot.

[catpiper]

You're a king?

[Not that titles hold value to her, in that sense. Aunt and uncle hold more weight than king, but imagining him as one of the people in her storybooks is-

Cool. He's like a fairytale come to life. It's incredible.]

Do you have a castle?

[piercetheheart]

I didn't think you were going to wake up.

[A gentle squeeze, so much gentler than he wants it to be.]

You and Noct were both so hurt but you took so much longer to come to... and all I could think about was that Mom... she never woke up.

And then you wanted me to just support you doing something that was going to take you from me. I was so sure it would. I just wanted to wrap you up and tuck you away somewhere safe and I know you'd have hated me for it but that was worth it if you were safe but I couldn't fucking say any of it.

Idiot.

[want_to_belong]

If what he said was true, I guess you weren't exaggerating about his size.

[He scooted off of him some, considering that Gladio hadn't really been holding him he thought maybe he was a bit too close or maybe he was dragging this out too long.]

[catpiper]

[Siblings is-

There were so many tiny corpses littering that path and while she expected that answer, judging by how similar their bodies are, it still hurts. It's confusing.

She can't imagine how it was for them to crawl through that, fighting for life when the death of their family surrounded them at all sides. It's impossible to gauge their expression for any sign of discomfort and she relies on watching the way their hands form words to tell her what their face can't. Slow-maybe sad? Maybe-

It's hard to decide what to ask next, if she should ask anything, or let sleeping bugs lie, as it were.

She almost doesn't want to know what happened to them. Doesn't want them to relive what happened because whatever occurred, whether it was disease or something else-it killed them all. But there's a question itching in the back of her mind and-]

Were they-

[She hesitates again, ]

'Vessels' too?

[lightlessfuture]

[ They've relived it a hundred, a thousand times. In their restless nightmares, climbing through an endless maze of masks.

(In those dreams, the maze never ends. No relief, no exit, nothing.)

They nod, tiredly. Yes. They were vessels. All of them. ]

Made-for-one-use
But-all-flawed-not-right
Not-perfect
Only-one-perfect.
Sibling-was-chosen.
Others-thrown-away.

[ Killed, destroyed, cast down into darkness, never to be seen again, never to be thought of again... Their head droops, as if they're struggling to bear the weight of the thought.

(And they, too, were a flawed vessel. Not right, not fit, for their purpose.) ]

i. they beat the bitter of war / where nobody won / we were just casualties

[lesbeau]

[The scene, as it opens, is chaos.

A caravan of covered wagons can be seen on an empty road between mountains, a large tree felled on it's side directly on top of one of them. There are people everywhere- mages clad in robes with books slinging spells, fighters with swords keeping busy on either side. A few familiar figures can be seen within the chaos- Beau, off to the side, wailing on a mage in robes with her staff, and Mollymauk on the other side of the combat, engaged with a truly massive human looking figure with his swords. Among it all is a dwarven woman in full armor who stands staring and engaged with a hulking beast of a man armed with a glaive, but stands unmoving- frozen. Some people may recognize her from Beau’s descriptions as Keg, the woman who was following Beau around just before this in her head. The rush of sound from the combat is stark in relation to the scene around them, the world still warming in midmorning dew as the sun rises.

Beau does a quick smack upside the head to the person she's fighting and they go down hard, the side of their skull caved partially in from the force of the hit. She wastes no time as soon as they're down, turning and leaping over a cart to land on the horse pulling it and engage the man directly.]

Lorenzo!

[He looks to her, a grin starting to spread on his face. She's obviously picking a fight with something bigger than her- though those who know Beau will know this is hardly uncommon. However, Mollymauk turns when he hears her engage, turning on his fight and running behind Lorenzo to take three slices into his back. The first strike hits, splattering blood on the ground, but the second two miss as the other man turns his attention away from Beau. He slams his glaive into the ground and prepares to attack, but out of nowhere, his vision and eyes go black--

And so do Molly's, as he suddenly crumples to the floor.

Beau's eyes go wide, and she's already moving, but it's too late. Lorenzo's glaive slams directly into Mollymauk's chest, and despite the wild swing Beau takes at him it doesn't seem to have any effect. He stops, looking behind him at Keg standing completely immobile still, to Beau's wild eyes, to the realization they're all having in tandem. He meets her gaze with a sickening smile.]

An example it is.

[He's interrupted for just a second as Molly, on the floor and impaled, spits a mouthful of blood into his face. His smile only grows wider.]

Respect.

[And he twists the blade, cutting Molly's chest open in a gush of blood and gore. His eyes never close.

The world feels like it’s moving in slow motion. Two crossbow bolts rocket across the field and bounce off the dwarf’s armor; two arrows come at Beau and one whizzes past as she catches the other one in her hand, not even looking at it. Their eyes are affixed on Molly’s body, the hand holding the arrow shaking until she snaps it in her hands. Meanwhile, Lorenzo turns towards her, his grin still wide.]

Is it time for another, or have you learned your lesson?

[Beau snarls as she repositions with her staff.]

You should know: I have no respect for authority.

[He starts to move towards her.]

Then another life it is.

[Finally, Keg moves, climbing over the felled tree and beginning to scream at the pair of them--]

Stop! Stop! Make me the example. Stop. Just stop attacking them--

[Lorenzo looks back to Keg, but Beau isn’t nearly done, even when given the escape. She closes the gap, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a tinderbox.]

Hey Lorenzo! This one’s for Molly and Yasha!

[And she lights him on fire. He doesn’t even look. She hits him, desperately, jaw clenched, missing the first swing and beating him in the chest with the second-- and he doesn’t even turn towards her. The flames lick off his shoulders and he doesn’t even care.

Beau curses, jaw clenched, tears in her eyes, as she retreats.

Everything starts to reassemble itself. The live people collect themselves and their items, the woman Beau felled earlier unmoving on the floor. Another woman comes over and heals some of Lorenzo’s wounds as he approaches Keg, speaking to her quietly, and drags her over to where Beau now crouches- two other figures have appeared, a shabby-looking ginger human man and Nott, the small goblin girl some may have seen around the island. Keg doesn’t fight as Lorenzo brings her to her knees, flanked by his fighters, glaive at her neck as he addresses them. The memory is fuzzy here- he speaks, but Beau doesn’t remember the dialogue. Didn’t bother. What she does remember is him leaning down to whisper in Keg’s ear.]

That’s a bit too quick. I want you to live with the memory of what you did today.

[He kicks her back to the ground, finally pats out the flames, and turns to leave.]

We’re moving on! If I see any of your faces again– well, at least you’ll be able to see your friend on the other side.

[Beau can’t help herself, rising to her feet, fists clenched. There are tears burning at her eyes she doesn’t even realize, shoulders shaking with barely repressed emotion.]

Fuck you, Lorenzo.

[He laughs as he and his caravan pull off into the darkness, leaving only their four figures-- and Mollymauk’s corpse-- remaining in the dirt.]

Fuck me indeed.

[And it’s finally, finally quiet.]

ii. but if i let it out / vibrations in the throat can convey more than just sound

[lesbeau]

[This scene is tighter than it appears; the space morphs into a warehouse, the room illuminated by only a single lantern hanging from the ceiling. Inside, Beau stands with her arms crossed in the center, a female elf with a shaved head standing close in front of her and watching her intently. Meanwhile, a delicate and lithe looking elf stands, posture looking a bit desperate and if he's almost about to resort to begging. Beau stays stony-faced as they seem to argue.]

Expositor, I do not think that I have been given a fair shot. Please–

[She waves her hand at him, cutting him off easily.]

I know this girl, because I see much of myself in her. You cannot reach her. Go.

[The elven man looks like he's been crushed, but looks sympathetically towards Beau, mouthing "I apologize that I failed you" as he takes his leave. Meanwhile, Beau finally speaks, looking between the door and the woman before her.]

The fuck was that? -- I feel like he made me look like an asshole, feel like an asshole. Fuck, maybe I’m an asshole.

Maybe you’re an asshole. You probably are an asshole. That’s all right, because so am I. Because sometimes you need someone to be an asshole to get shit done. I am Expositor Dairon, of the Cobalt Soul. I take it you have heard of our station through whispers.

[Beau rolls her eyes, chattering back as they go back and forth. However, Dairon charges forward, serious in her speech and intent.]

We are the hidden strength of the library, you are not wrong. We wade in the filth of society. We weed out the corrupt. We pursue the secret evils of the world, and expose them to the light. We twist the arm of the unjust, until they spill their mysteries. We are the spies. We are the hunters. We are the watchmen to those who rule. We are not kind. We are forthright. We are truth. Do you, Beauregard, want to see the truths of the world?

[It's silent for a second, before Beau cocks a hip, tilting her head and reaching down to rub a hand on her ass.]

Oh god, I’m sorry. I have this burn in my butt from all the smoke you just blew up my ass. It’s just, oh god. Is that a magical talent? All tha--

[She's cut off all of a sudden as the woman moves, lightning quick, and her fist connects at Beau's jaw without even seeing her move. Beau hits the ground hard, the sound echoing through the empty space as she tries to pull herself up.]

Are you listening now? Do I have a choice?-- Let me be your teacher.

[Somehow, Beau still manages to roll her eyes.]

Oh, boy. Is that what I have to look forward to?

[The woman simply shakes her head, otherwise unmoving.]

No. What do you want to do now, that that’s happened?

[Beau's pulling herself off the ground at this point, wiping some blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.]

I kind of want to fucking punch you back.

[Dairon grins, wide and excited.]

Then do it. What’s stopping you?

[And finally, Beau grins back.]

Now you have my attention.

[Beau takes a reckless swing towards her face, relentless and pissed, and Dairon sidesteps her easily. They fall into this repertoire in the silence- Beau is strong, and fast, but she's reckless and difficult. She gets in some good hits, but Dairon is obviously stronger and faster- she seems like she's barely tapping Beau, but with every hit, her movements get more stiff. It's obvious as the battle goes on that it's one-sided; Beau won't give, won't relent, but Dairon takes shots where she stops herself just before impact to give light taps, or sidesteps gracefully out of the way of lunges that take Beau to the ground. Eventually, she stops, Beau in a heap and frozen.]

I can start you on this path. You can return to your wanderlust, your allies. Our kind learns more in the world than in a library. Agree to my instruction, to use the skills I teach you, as you return throughout your journeys. One day, you too, can become an expositor.

[Finally, Beau is pulling herself from the combat, breath returning to a shaking body. She has bruises forming on her arms, blood falling from her lip, but she looks excited. Alive.]

Okay. I got to hand it to you, that was awesome, and I want to know how to do that. You beat me.

[Dairon's wild smile returns, and she crosses her arms.]

Very well. Your first lesson begins now.

[Be careful wandering into this one, watchers. It may not be safe for those who don't wish to become an example.]

[scourgingstars]

Is that your term for 'idiot'?

[lesbeau]

Player Name: Alex
Character Name: Beauregard
Character Journal: lesbeau
Number of Memories: 2
Offering(s): sorry there's so much blood in these

[forwearemany]

Perhaps, but it does not have to be. They chose to make it so.

(They turn away.)

Regardless, we are glad that you are treated better here. Many residents appear to have been treated poorly in their universe of origin.

[savedbyasong]

Mine didn't happen either. [None of them. Three things that he has no memory of past the vague images from the mirror. He was being shown a future, a potential future. As was Prompto by the look of it.]

Futures can be changed.

[crosslaced]

[After a delay, he looks to Shion.]

...yes?

[He glances to the vision being played, re-orientating himself. But even as he seems to process the vision there's still no recoil of horror or pain. He just seems to be flatly watching it.]

Is there something you wanted to talk about?

[hyperlit]

as are you?

[As were you. But it goes both ways.]

[savedbyasong]

[Shion puts his arm around Gladio looking at him in concern at the grunt of pain, eyes seeking out anything that might mean that pain is physical rather than the emotional pain of seeing the vision that is being played out.] I'm sorry...

[There's not much to be said.]

[savedbyasong]

A future then. [A potential future where Dagger escapes this place.] You saved them.

[He was bleeding and perhaps dying but he had saved his family. It was some hope to hold on to.]

[savedbyasong]

"Elyurius..." Shion's voice was quiet as he watched the vision fade. It was... so much. He had died. Of course dying was nothing new to Shion, nothing unusual at all. But to die on his own world and be brought back.

How was that even possible? He only knows the answer to Ignis' question because of the futures he had seen in the mirror and the vision he had seen on the floating island. Elyrius. A god. Safu his best friend.

He's caught up in the moment but then he frowns and turned to Ignis. "You saw that?" He could see? Shion notices the flames and moves closer, to see if it is indeed just a trick of the light.

[forwearemany]

Yes. Prior to our arrival, even our supposed allies insulted, mocked, and insinuated that any assistance given our people would later be used to murder organics.

(Legion still trusted them: they're not always the smartest about this sort of thing.)

This does not occur here.

[savedbyasong]

[Touch was very important. To remember that you weren't alone, grounding and safe.]

I'm sorry you had to see it again... [Sorry that everyone had to see it. Their minds should be their own.]

[savedbyasong]

Made it up? [Was that possible? Connor was very imaginative. If this place had tried to pull a memory from him was it possible they had pulled something that wasn't real from his mind to show everyone?

But it seemed to also show futures. Shion's could be explained. He had looked in the mirror after all. He had seen potential futures even if he could remember none of them clearly.

But other people... It couldn't have taken them from their minds.

He has no idea. No theories.] Do... Do you remember anything else around it?

[piercetheheart]

[It's so strange, not only seeing the joy on Ardyn's face through all of this but... the fact that it makes him sad for the bitter, ruined man here. Could he be happy like that with Ignis?

Could it ever be that easy without making Iggy chose one or the other?

But he's happy, somewhere, in one story at least he's... He's happy.]

You two are cute.

[Her and her dwarf... Though he can definitely see where she has some problems with him. Broad and well muscled, warm amber eyes and that spark of playful mischief. No wonder she latched onto him.]

[savedbyasong]

No... [Still a lot of wariness. He knows now that Laurent doesn't hate him. But that doesn't mean Laurent won't lose patience with him. But... Shion is worried so he stays.] Is there anything you want to talk about?

[demonpuppy]

+1

[youngmother]

+1