The Mods of LifeAftr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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aftr_stories2018-10-19 08:54 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in aftr_stories2018-10-19 08:54 pm
Entry tags:
- ;event: storytelling,
- dear evan hansen: connor murphy,
- final fantasy xv: ardyn izunia,
- final fantasy xv: ignis scientia,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- hollow knight: the knight,
- hyper light drifter: the drifter,
- marble hornets: tim wright,
- mass effect: legion,
- red vs. blue: agent washington,
- the league: jules dagger samari,
- voltron: keith kogane,
- voltron: takashi shirogane,
- ✖ captive prince: damianos,
- ✖ captive prince: laurent,
- ✖ ffxv: gladiolus amicitia,
- ✖ ffxv: prompto argentum,
- ✖ hollow knight: troupe master grimm,
- ✖ hyper light drifter: the guardian,
- ✖ no.6: shion,
- ✖ pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- ✖ persona 5: ann takamaki
[MU] - FEELING LIKE A GHOST (PART II)
"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.
"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!
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.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:
[ ♆ ] 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.
"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!
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It's what comes after that makes it impossible to ignore that question. He'd never considered it, even when the flowers were threatening to take Ignis from him, when they'd had to face certain uncomfortable truths about Regis' ulterior motives.
Never once did he think it would be him on the throne.]
Forevermore... [He huffs the word out, dark and a little derisive, rolling his eyes as he nods toward the fire, the very god that put them here. He's worried about Tory, sure, but he's still frustrated with the little god's refusal to let Ardyn pass.
Then he reaches down to lean on a log as he lowers himself to the sand beside Ardyn, only for his arm to give out. He drops down hard, hissing a breath out in pain, gently shaking out his hand as if that might help.]
Ardyn? [He knows damn well the redhead is going to tell him to fuck off any moment but he has to ask.]
Why didn't you just kill us?
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[...Because he really didn't know.]
What, are you regretting I didn't?
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[Which is not an answer. He doesn't want to be the person they have to look to, he doesn't want to be responsible for Noct's kingdom, he doesn't want to marry a girl who, last he knew was a fucking booty call. He doesn't want to go on reaching for Ignis and never once having him reach back. Living with the guilt of outliving his king.]
Maybe I am...
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Just doesn't make sense... especially if you really wanted everyone to forget.
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[. . .]
I didn't.
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I don't know that I'll have much say in the matter but... I'll do what I can to make sure your story gets told. That people remember and we don't make the same mistakes again.
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[But he knows Ardyn is right, unfortunately.]
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[Gods it was weird to think about. Elle was pregnant. He was going to be a dad.
But for that to be true he had to go home, go back to a world where Ignis would never be his.]
.... for the future, I guess.
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Yeah, that's exactly what it is.