[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

AUDIO ONLY

[youngmother]

"What is it, Asuka? Calling right before the test?"

A woman in her late twenties walks out of a bunker in a military base, talking on a cell phone while crews around her organize supplies and direct vehicles. She's dressed somewhat differently from those around her, in a bright red jacket and short skirt, but the attitude she gives off indicates she definitely belongs here. The voice on the other side of the call crackles through, loud enough to be heard by whatever has captured this moment.

"I just wanted to talk to you for some reason, Misato."

The woman--Misato--smiles and looks off to the side. "I see. I haven't thanked you properly for doing this yet, so...thank you."

From Asuka's side comes a hissing sound, as if something has released a burst of air, but there's no sense of alarm due to it. "You don't have to thank me. It's simply the duty of the elite to protect the innocent masses. I mean, having a meal with everyone was never really my thing."

Misato smiles and shakes her head, listening in silence as Asuka goes on in a calm and matter-of-fact tone. "Pretending to have fun with the others will only wear me out. I don't want to see others be happy. I should just pilot EVA. I've aways liked being alone. I never needed close friends. THere's never been anyone who sees me for who I realy am. As long as I get top scores in this test, I can deal with eating alone at NERV."

The next part brings Misato pause, her gaze growing slightly distant with thought. "Though, recently I've been thinking that it's nice to be around others. It's not like me to say that, though..."

"That's not true." Misato looks up towards what seems like a construction pit, surrounded by massive cranes framing an enormous humanoid machine, currently inactive. "You're a kind girl, Asuka."

There's a pause before Asuka replies. "You're the first person I've said this to, Misato. Somehow, I feel better now. It feels good to talk to others." Her tone has shifted, and one can hear the smile in her voice. "I never knew..."

"This world is full of interesting things you have yet to know about. Look forward to them."

"Yeah, I will. Thanks, Misato."