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

[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.

[ ♆ ] 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!

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[Grimm does not know if Brumm returned after he fell asleep. The Troupe Master had not been able to wake in time to see if that was indeed the case. There had been no time to say a long good-bye, no chance of holding the Ritual off unless they had all been collectively banished from Hallownest itself.

A perpetual greeting and farewell was the fate the Nightmare King had known he would create the moment his feet touched the physical world. The broken cycle would come at the cost of his children, the death of the Grimmchild. He could not bury the anguish that came when he thought of stopping, of cutting off his limbs and senses to the waking world by tearing his child to pieces.

Not now. Not ever.

Grimm feels a tug at his cloak and kneels down to look at the Knight. It had been the appearance of Brumm that brought this memory to the forefront and he had never intended to speak of it otherwise. Well, it appears this dream took matters out of Grimm's hands.]

I apologize if that caused you any worry, my friend. The pain I experience does not last that long.

[In the long run. There were...other reasons why the Ritual caused him pain but Grimm will not speak of them now.]

[ If their expression could change, they would be displaying skepticism; Grimm's pain in the memory had been very clear. As it is, they seem to radiate uncertainty, and after a moment they just...

They just pat him gently on the head, apparently at a loss for how to answer that politely otherwise. Disagreeing seems rude, but ignoring that he clearly found the entire thing painful was...also rude?

It's...easier to 'speak', in a dream. Easier to get the meaning of their signing across, even with someone who doesn't know it as well. They opt for speaking with their hands rather than writing, this time.

The malleable nature of the dream fills in the meanings for what they don't know how to say. Brumm is a soft-spoken figure with an accordion, clear in their memories, and so they mimic the way they'd seen him play as a standin for his name. ]

Saw-met-listened-to-Brumm
after-he-left.

Can-tell-you
what-he-said.

If-you-want.

[ Grimm seemed to value that individuality, so maybe he wouldn't want to know...? But then again, it probably doesn't matter either way.

It's not as if the conversation will really ever leave this place. There was no helping either of their fates, after all. ]

[Grimm cannot help the huff of laughter when the Knight pats his head. Was this how the Knight felt when he silently called them out during the situation with their sibling? That he was so obvious with his true feelings that he may as well have waved a sign lit up with blinding lights?

It hurt. The Ritual was an agonizing process and that had never changed over the eons of that cycle. He cannot and should not lie about it.]

I was being rather transparent, wasn't I? Again, my apologizes.

[For trying to hide it. But their offer quickly arrests his attention.

That knowledge had been that spirit's go-to to grab Grimm's attention, the unknown. The moment where he suddenly no longer could see where Brumm was. Where did he go? Why did he leave?

Was it a matter that Brumm could go to Grimm for help with?

The Troupe Master stares at the Knight and it is as obvious as the pain in his memory was that he wanted to know. But eventually he shakes his head.]

You are kind to offer, my friend...but I am certain he had his reasons. Yet are you able to tell me if Brumm left of his own free will?

[Grimm respected the choices made by his Troupe members and will continue to do so. But he wanted to know at least that Brumm himself made the choice to leave rather then was forced out by another's power.]

[ Even though the subject matter is serious, the Knight still seems to be amused at Grimm's reaction. All these little reactions, adding up...

They're very similar, in some ways. At his apology, they simply move their hand to pat at his shoulder. It's okay.

They're hardly going to judge, considering they've done the same themselves.

But upon seeing his reaction to the next question, that amusement is gone. It was obvious that Grimm clearly cared about where Brumm had gone.

And as for Brumm himself...

"But if you return to the Master and complete the Ritual...
As long as you do it without regret, I will bear you no hatred."

They still wonder if they did the right thing, even knowing his words. But this is a simple question to answer, at least. ]

Was-not-forced.
Went-far-away
on-purpose.

[ They tilt their head, and after a moment: ]

He-cared-very-much.

[ It's a vague sort of addition, an artless observation. It clearly has something to do with the topic at hand, but the Knight is sort of torn between 'tell him because he wants to know' and 'don't tell him because he said he didn't want to'.

They've settled for an ambiguous middle ground. ]

[Much like Brumm, Grimm is telling in his silence.

As he's stated before he respects the choices that those in the Troupe made, especially when they chose their time to leave. Grimm always gave them the choice to join and the choice to leave, to end the nightmare when they believe it is time to do so. Grimm was the Nightmare King, the God of Nightmares who could live in them indefinitely.

Bugs could not.

Grimm remembered them all because they were their own individual selves. He did not let all of those who once held his title to blur and remembered those who stood by the side of each of his reincarnations. Eons of lives touched by a single moment they met the God of Nightmares in their dreams.

(A story told to a Goddess of Light, They answered "Because when you come back maybe we both can finally have a good dream together.")

Alone nightmares were something to be endured until the end. But they were a connection, a bind between lost lands and the bugs within them. Perhaps it was a mark of his failure as a God to be unable to endure that silence alone.

(Would it be Grimm's own personal hell to return to that?)

But he could not and so he did not. He met many bugs, bugs who laughed with Grimm, who offered an understanding silence. The Knight says that Brumm cared and they are not wrong.]

Yes. He was very kind.

[And Grimm would not forget Brumm. If when he left he chose to take off that mask and end the nightmare, he clearly chose to do it without regrets.

The Troupe Master bows.]

Thank you for indulging my question, Knight. If Brumm chose this of his own free will, I bear him no ill will. I never will.

[For the three thousand years and a bit that Grimm grew with the silent musician, he will treasure these memories and pass them onto his child in the hope that they too meet someone like this.]

[ A performer watched by a cheering crowd, a king surrounded by a silent audience;

someone whose fate was already set, a song that never ends, a fire burning itself out, bright and vibrant until the end.

Rather than say or ask anything else, they take advantage of the fact that Grimm is kneeling and therefore at their height. They step close, reaching up as far as they can to gently grip his cloak, and press their forehead to his.

They make no claim to understand that ages-old loneliness, a silence he wandered the world to escape. But their own loneliness is something that resonates with that, they think; a life spent traveling and not quite understanding the empty ache within them, not able to understand why they don't quite belong.

Maybe even that small connection is enough. ]

[Once upon a time it was not so quiet. But the madness of conflict and the respective personalities of those involved would have torn everything apart long before they themselves were destroyed.

("One realm now must stay apart.")

Theses were not just the words of the last moth in existence.]

Thank you, my dear Knight.

[He is truly touched. Loneliness was difficult to explain so one often needed a silent act. To share in it quietly, an ache the Knight had not understood at the time because their memory was gone.

The ache that now remained because they remembered.

It is a connection born of loneliness, of stages when the lights go out and secluded bodies of water. But it is enough.]

[ They had wondered before, vaguely, if he found the facts of his existence lonely; if he found that parting painful. If it still hurt.

They think they regret ever asking the question, even in the privacy of their own thoughts; the answer is something that that runs deep and sad and isn't entirely dissimilar to their own feelings, which is distressing as much as it is comforting.

(They wish that the circumstances of their meeting had been better. But wishing was useless with no power to change what was already done.

This will have to be enough.)

After a moment, they shift their position, a more familiar motion of burying their face in his shoulder. It's almost apologetic, almost guilty. A childish gesture.

They have learned much about him, in these last few months. It is not comforting information, and though they would rather know than not, are grateful for that closeness...

Sometimes it is a little much. ]

[No, there was nothing either of them could have done to change how they met. The time that the Knight called the Grimm Troupe was when it was time for Grimm to pass on his title. That is how it was and even the Nightmare King could not change it.

As with everything, reality is what remains when one wakes from their sleep.

He knows what they mean by the gesture and wraps his arms around the tiny child. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that for all that they were capable of, the Knight was a child in the end. They shouldered burdens that even adults would falter under the weight but there should be a limit.

Grimm did not want to be a God who dominated those who chose to follow him. He did not desire followers who did not question the steps he took. And, most importantly, he did not want to be the kind of bug who dumped his problems upon children and leave them with the burden.

Memories were memories and will fade with time. But sometimes it simply does not work that way.]

It is sad to witness this, is it not? Even within the realm of Nightmares I could feel it. [The warmth that flowed from nowhere, the voice that spoke to Grimm.] Are you tired, my friend?

[It is a strange thing to ask of one who is dreaming, but Grimm does not necessarily mean if the Knight is sleepy. Are they just...tired of all of this?]

[ Are they tired? It's...it's a reasonable question. It's not one people usually ask (it's not something they've ever asked themselves), and so it's a question they have to think about and answer properly.

They are...

Knowing these things is painful, yes. A burden, a weight, adding to what weighs them down already. The reward for uncovering deeper secrets is a bigger shovel, or something like that.

More work. More hurt, because they can't help but hurt at another's pain. That is how it's always been.

But...that, too, is its own reward. A reminder of life (dying means you feel nothing at all), of feeling (something they were never meant to have, something they were thrown away for), a reminder that others exist and change and they, too, lived.

Struggle and grasp for every inch of life, snatch back the traces of memory erased by light. Hold it in your heart; keep it alive and burning inside. Remember it. Remember how it changed you.

Yes, such things can be tiring. At times the weight of all their burdens exhaust them. But.

They would rather know than not. They would rather have met than not. To feel pain at the thought of parting is to know the person well enough to have connected with them, and that bond makes all the difference.

It takes a long time for them to respond to the question, but--

"All tragedy erased. I see only wonders..."

They shake their head, still holding on tightly. Taking comfort from the arms now wrapped around them.

When has tiredness ever stopped them?

They'll be all right. ]

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

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