[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

[lightlessfuture]

[ 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. ]

[fireindreams]

[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?]

[lightlessfuture]

[ 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. ]