[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'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.) ]

[catpiper]

[Their words tug her heart in a painful way, echoing thoughts she's had in her own mind a thousand times over-because she was born for one reason, the others had died, she was destined to die because of her own flaws and they found a girl that was better suited for the project and-

Seeing them form these words hurts. Because she wants to deny their claims-that they're flawed, they're not right, because how could a creature who fights so bravely, who sits by her side when she's too sick to move, who tries to find her in the woods, despite all her attempts to get away-

How could they think they're not perfect.

It's like Tim, who still thinks so poorly about himself, despite all the good in his heart.

She doesn't know how these thoughts plague their mind, when despite all their supposed flaws, she sees their beautiful hearts so clearly. But she gets it-the constant pressure of feeling messed up and wrong in a way no one ever understands.

It takes a second for her to recover and then a small smile forces its way to her face.]

I know about things like that. You feel 'right' to me, so it's okay.

[And she holds out her arms, in case they want to feel a warm hug.]

You won't get thrown away here. This place is-it's better.

[lightlessfuture]

[ The comfort is appreciated, but they can't miss--

I know about things like that, she says, You won't get thrown away here, and there's a sudden weight in their chest that wasn't there before.

Ren is sweet and soft and someone who has always treated them with warmth. Someone who has always been kind to them, over and over, without restraint; someone who runs off into trouble and danger and things she's afraid of because she doesn't want to hurt other people-

She says I know. She had hesitated before she smiled. She... ]

Were-you-thrown-away-too

[ They look up at her, silently wishing for the truth. It is a painful connection, if it's true, but--

If it's true, they can do something for her. They can be there for her, like before, like they've been a thousand times, but for something deeper and more painful, more close to home and to both their hearts.

(A burden that is impossible to fully understand unless you've carried its weight; were given it by someone who didn't care about you.) ]

[catpiper]

[It takes a second, a minute, for her to figure out what to say. It's a topic she would ignore, on any other day. She doesn't want anyone to find out something in her is wrong and messed up, because the connections she has with them might vanish, but-

She can remember choking to death under the weight of her own stress and lies. Remember Guzma's face when he said those painful words that sting deeply to this day.

She can see the Knight's face now, looking at her for an answer. Something in their hollow eyes makes her swallow, glance to them, then away and back again and-

Maybe it's okay, if she lowers her voice. Tries to make it so only they can hear the words coming out of her mouth. If they're the same as her, if they were in that environment, then deep down they already know.

So maybe it's okay to say it, aloud.]

I was 'unsuitable'-they had to.

[They found another girl to use-one less sick, one with a stronger heart, someone who was pulled away from everything she knew to lead the same lonely life they all had.]

But they let me stay in my room and I got to color.

[She didn't have to crawl through the corpses of the other failed catalysts, trying to fight for every chance to live. All she had to do was sit there, play with blocks and quietly take her pills until they no longer worked. If it weren't for the project's failure and humanity's near extinction, she'd still be waiting there.]

People are different here. I don't think-maybe we don't have to worry about that kind of thing now.

[lightlessfuture]

[ At least Ren's experience was...less unpleasant. Still unwanted, still discarded, but...more peaceful.

But it wounded just as deeply, they think - no, they know. By the way she lowers her voice and hesitates, by the way the answers come painful and reluctant and slow, they can tell. They -- they understand.

They nod, in response. Yes, people are different here. They see - children who run and play, deserve to be given attention and affection freely. Not faulty, failed experiments. Not an unsuitable catalyst, not a discarded vessel.

After a moment, unsure of how to convey what they want to convey through words, they sketch something in the sand.

She had said to them, once, that their heart glowed. It reminds me of the stars, she had said.

A thing that gave warmth and light - not the harsh, painful light of a plague unconstrained, but a warm, soft feeling. Kindness and affection.

They point to the simple drawing they've made in the sand, and then reach out to pat a small hand against her chest. ]

Star [ they sign, insistently, repeating it for emphasis. Not unsuitable, not flawed, not wrong inside, not in a way they care about, not in the way that matters. Her heart shines just as brightly as she said theirs did. It always has. It always will. ]

[catpiper]

[It takes one, two, three seconds to understand the drawing before her. Not because their artistic skill is bad-to the contray, she can make out both their forms in an instant. It's that recognition that made her heart pound and pound and pound against her chest, to the point she's sure their small hand can feel it pound, pound, pound and-

She can't tell them they're wrong to put her beside them. Can't sit there and say I'm sick and something in me is bad and tell them the glistening, shining star that's replaced their heart is a mistake on her. That they aren't looking at her if they can't see what's bad.

The small bug in front of her isn't flawed, but she is. Just because people are kind enough to look past it, doesn't change what she knows is the truth. There's nothing in her heart that matches the pretty ones around her, no matter how much she wants to pretend that image in the sand is reality.

No matter how much she wants to believe you're our treasure and-

Their attempt to comfort her, when they're the one that needs it, only proves her right. They've had a terrible vision of their life play in front of them for all to see. Yet here they are, trying to offer solace in the form of a drawing that she finally has to rip her eyes away from because-

It's enough they're able to draw themself that way and take some of her past words to heart, in the way most others don't.

And maybe one day she'll find a way to say they're the most beautiful star she's ever seen.]

That's right. That's how you look all the time.

[There's a shorter pause this time and she quietly adds-]

But even if you forget sometimes, that's okay. I'll remind you. You can ask me what your heart looks like and I'll always answer.

[lightlessfuture]

[ They recognise the signs of that denial, that deep-down refusal (because some things leave wounds so terrible that the scars that remain are dark and jagged) -

It matches their own.

They've led vastly different lives, but at least some of their injuries are too similar to ignore.

Rather than follow along with Ren's words, they press their hand insistently to her chest for a long moment, before staring up at her. ]

You-too.

Don't-forget
We're-the-same.

[ They hope she understands their words. ]

[catpiper]

[They're the same. Their small hand is pressed against her chest, like they're trying to pretend there's anything special beyond the pounding, pounding, pounding.

She doesn't say a word and mimics their gesture, pressing her hand against their chest, over where that shining star resides.

They're the same-forgotten, failed experiments looking for another, better life where they aren't held to the impossible standards they grew up with.

She doesn't need words to understand their vision is one she needs to remember-know how much they struggled for life and how deserving they are to be in this loving place.

Her arms wrap around their small body and if they let her, she's going to pull them into a tight hug and try to hide them against her. Whether they need it or not, hopefully they understand the option is always there.

She'll always shelter them when they need it.]