tabularasa_rp | 003 - Memories of a False History

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003 - Memories of a False History

Memories of a False History State of the World ▲ Locations ▼ Bestiary
OOC ▲ Comments Please refer to the original Event Announcement for more information or to ask any questions you might have! For the disaster prompt, players are not restricted to the versions given, but they are intended to be the most common. Feel free to borrow ideas from the disaster suggestions thread as well!

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The Sound of All Things Bad
The sound comes without warning. What the sound is cannot quite be made out - it is at once artificial and natural, bestial and mechanical, rumbling and roaring and crunching, shattering and crashing and screaming. Everything about it feels like a threat, warning of danger. The cacophony of noise reaches throughout the entire Void, loud and inescapable, the mangling and clashing of different sounds leaving each individual with a different idea of what it could possibly have been. It sounds different to everyone, each person able to pick out a part of the sound that ties to their own fears.

What if...?

How long the sound lasts would depend on how the individual perceives time. It might last for seconds, or it might last for minutes, but once it stops it does not repeat. Where it came from or what it is does not become the slightest bit clearer, and people are left to only speculate.

Disaster
No one can quite be sure what has prompted them to remember that day. It might have been that noise of approaching doom, or perhaps it is seeing the crumbling ruins of Hammerlocke itself. Once a stray memory surfaces, it is easy enough to look into the details and recall in full the vivid memory of Hammerlocke’s destruction - the ‘truth’ of what caused the mountainside city to crumble into ruins, as so many have wondered since their first appearance. Though the memory is clear and detailed, vivid enough to have been witnessed in person, it is out of place and does not belong, and anyone who can recall the events knows it.

Attempting to discuss the matter will soon reveal that while others recall the event with similar clarity, the details vary from person to person. Over time, their own memory changes and adapts, occasionally changing to something new entirely, yet the original is never completely forgotten. Memory is a strange and fickle thing, so easy to influence and manipulate, that the truth is difficult to find.

While memories differ from person to person, there are three particular tales that recur:

From the Sky

Though the sky above did not change from its paper-like blank white, the land grew darker and darker as though cast in shadow. The source of the shadow was clear: above, slowly descending towards the wings of the castle, was... something. Something immense, yet shrouded in crackling storm clouds.

As it continued to grow closer and closer, something in the clouds began to swell. It grew larger and larger, an electric hum of energy in the air, until with a resounding crack it burst and a great shadowy beast fell to the ground, landing with such force that the resulting shockwave shook the earth and tore through the stone buildings, causing so much of the city to tumble in an instant. It moves, and it screeches, raising its head up as the great storm above continues to swell and crackle.

This would not be the only beast.

(Based upon: Meteor, the Lunar Cry, and the Darkest Day)

The Battlefield

It was never clear why the fighting eventually made its way to this defenseless city, but it came without warning. The chaos was heralded only by explosions as the city walls were blasted through by tanks that had somehow made their way along the treacherous and narrow mountain path that simply was not meant for such heavy machines. The thundering explosions and the collapse of buildings could surely be heard for miles, and people and animals alike were quick to flee.

Though they reached Hammerlocke first, the tanks seemed like nothing compared to the enemy. The enormous shadowy monstrosity that swooped in from the sky seemed to be made from far more advanced technology. Even just the one towering machine, as large as the castle falling to ruins beneath its feet as it lands, proves deadly as it fires upon the approaching tanks, blasting them all to pieces within an instant before turning fire on whichever buildings remain standing.

(Based upon: Tanks, and Reapers)

The Mysterious Storm

There had been no way to predict the change in the weather, never mind how destructive it would prove. One moment, everything had been still and quiet, and the next the city was assailed by howling, violent winds and freezing, glittering snow and ice. Though the city was built of stone and had stood the test of time for centuries, it could not stand against these combined forces. The only shelter was underground, for the furious storm was so powerful it could rip through earth, lift up and fling any object in its path with devastating force, shattering windows and toppling buildings.

Propelled by such force, the ice and hail proved destructive in its own right. As the storm froze everything in its path, the hailstones became like bullets and great chunks of ice became missiles. By the time the winds began to grow calm, there was little left standing.

Something about the storm seemed somehow unnatural, but where it came from was anyone’s guess. Some, however, may have spied a vague figure through the tempest, of unclear appearance but its presence somehow threatening.

(Based upon: Weather, El shortage, and Diamond Dust)

Misplaced Memories
Worries about whatever disaster must have befallen the ruined city of Hammerlocke aside, people quickly become aware that memories of the disaster are not the only invasive, foreign memories. How the other memories come to them seems, on the surface, to be very similar: a connected thought occurs, and upon realizing the memory is not theirs, people are compelled to think more about it until the memory is uncovered in full detail. Unlike the memory of the disaster, however, this one quite clearly belongs to someone else. Someone who is here.

On puzzling this out, some might find they have more than one stray memory sitting in their minds. More importantly, however, is the feeling that something from their own memory is missing, and whatever memory is missing feels like it is something important. It could just be their own phone number, or it could be their name, or the face of whoever is most important to them. It could be something small, it could be something big, but all people know is that it’s something important and it’s gone.

There is no clear, immediate answer as to what people can do about their lost memories. With regards to their new memories, however, the path might seem a tiny bit clearer, for surely it seems a bit unfair that they can see into someone’s past in such a manner without their knowing. Perhaps it’s best to talk to them about it?

Although the lost memory is not always the same as the ones borrowed, taking the memory back to its source and prompting them to discuss and think about it proves a great help - as they talk, the invasive memory leaves, a lost memory is restored, and those who succeed are able to tell others the solution.

While the invasive memory is gone, people can still recall having it, and can still recall the details, but they will no longer remember it from the other’s point of view. Perhaps it might change how they see each other from now on?

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(It's a quiet conversation in his head. Mona isn't here, giving his feedback and opinion, but Ren's never truly alone, is he? Satanael might be as quiet as he is, but at least he provides his insights from time to time and Ren keeps in touch - it's not like he can summon him, anyways. His hands were busy, pliers and metals being worked with until it hits. The sound is loud, cannon fires and missiles assaulting his ear and the vision of Hammerlock being torn to the ground... It lasts several minutes and Ren attempts to cover his ears to make it more bearable. Not that it helped him calm down when it ceased. Several images flash in his head - a burning village, Kamoshida, a duel, a mountain, and among so many others... Himself? Little by little, his own memories begin to fade and he closes his eyes abruptly, trying to hold on to them - an unsuccessful attempt. If just feels like gaps where a story should be and it rushes panic through his body, specially because of the one memory that's circling over and over. Him, with a bullet in his forehead and the nasty feeling that comes with it. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn't supposed to be there, he remembers very well his own satisfaction of victory, smirking through the pain sitting in that room alone.

He needs to find Akechi, that's what he decides as he rushes out of his room, hastly making his way to the first floor and without a second thought, banging on the door. It's an impulsive mix of despair, confusion, panic and concern. If Ren got hit like this, how's Akechi? How's Ann? Fuck, he needs to do something and it has to be now.)

Goro, open the door. (He demands, voice as strong as it could possibly be in its order while his hand is ready to grab the lockpick in his pocket. If his head is killing him and he feels dizzy to the point he could easily pass out, how are they, even? Is Akechi even alright? Can he reach it?)

[He's crying.

Fuck.

He hasn't cried since he was a child. And over a model gun, of all things, like some spoiled brat who didn't get their present after wheedling his parents. It's hard to understand the sheer loss that hit him at the thought, the memory of a dreary winter day spent at all his favorite places. Places he'll never see again, will he?

He jumps when Ren pounds on his door, and he doesn't trust his voice for several seconds, hastily sucking in a breath and modulating his voice to sound as normal as possible. It works, kind of.]

Just- give me a moment, please. [And the polite request sounds somewhat off, even if it's how he's always spoken. He hurries into the bathroom, runs the water as cold as he can to dab at puffy eyes, blow his nose. He needs five minutes, yet Ren probably won't even give him one.

Satisfied that at least his nose won't run, he comes back and opens the door, a genuine smile rising to his lips at the sight of the only person he truly cares about.]

Sorry. I wasn't feeling very well. [He reaches up, gently rests a bare hand against Ren's cheek to study his face, brows pinched in concern.] Are you alright, Ren?

(... ?

He hears the request and it's... Not what he expected as an answer. It's too... Soft? He is convinced he hasn't heard that tone from Akechi often, is it mockery...? His head pounds once more, sharp with the memory running through his eyes once again and he squeezes his eyes shut as he waits, the hallway spinning in lightheadedness.

By the time Akechi does as Ren has asked, he had managed to compose himself - aside from the fact he's pale as a ghost, and upon inspection of Akechi, he frowns. There's something extremely off, from the apology and voice to the fact that there's a warm, soft hand on his cheek, one that he hasn't yet felt upon his skin, and the door wide open. For someone who was adamant in keeping them as quiet as possible, this was such a huge leap that it convinces that this is not Akechi in his right mind.

He moves inside, closing the door behind them to do the same, a hand on the other's cheek as well as he wordlessly scans the reddish eyes fixed on his own. Nothing like he's seen. Not a speck of sadness, not a hint of the everlasting wrath that resides within him. What the fuck did the Void did to you?)

There's something off.

I should have guessed this wasn't a social call.

[He steps back to allow Ren to enter and close the door, and the other boy will find his apartment unchanged from the last time he was here to swap out the flowers. Ren looks distraught of all things, and again, Akechi's hit by the sense that he's forgetting something of incredible importance, even as he leans slightly into Ren's warm touch.]

Tell me what's wrong, [he commands softly, eyes scanning Ren's face once again.]

(This. This is very much wrong. The memories dancing in his head, punching him in the stomach every now and then are wrong, but this? This is outright panicking him. When has Akechi ever been so... Loving? Why can't Ren remember how they got here? His eyes goggled at the leaning, because he surely can recall the last time Ren got caring and was told, or even commanded to quit it.)

Goro. You're not being yourself.

Edited (finger brrr) 2020-09-17 17:22 (UTC)

[The accusation hurts, and after a moment, he draws his hand back from Ren's cheek with a frown.]

That's my line.

[Ren is the kind and loving one. Not the one who gets to the point. And frankly, Akechi can't remember Ren ever looking quite so worried about anything.]

Sit down. Take a moment to compose yourself.

[The hand that he'd drawn back from Ren's cheek finds his hand, giving him a gentle tug to try to coax him back toward the bed so they can sit together.]

(... His... Hand?

Ren wouldn't sit, but that took him by such surprise that when he noticed it, he was already sitting on the corner of the bed with Akechi's soft hand between the two of his. There's nothing to keep his hands occupied, so they resort to gently caressing and drawing random shapes on the back of Akechi's hand. How should he even open this conversation...)

What do you remember from the last year at home? (Sounds like a good place to start.)

[He has Ren's complete attention, even as he's thinking about other things. That, at least, is how it should be, though for the life of him, he can't imagine why he hadn't let Ren hold his hand before. The gentle shapes almost tickle, almost feel like too much against bare skin so rarely touched by anyone else, but he wouldn't trade the feeling for the world. Being wanted. Being loved.

His brows pinch briefly again. That doesn't feel like it should be a novel concept to him. Especially not in light of Ren's question.]

Not the destruction of Hammerlocke, if that's what you're concerned about.

[Because that had been invasive, nearly as much as the memory of the model gun that had made him cry. What was that?]

I'll be hurt if this is your way of saying you don't remember the time I spent working with you and the Phantom Thieves.

(Hammerlocke is a concern for later. Right now, what cares about is figuring out what had happened to the others, Akechi most of all. He had made it clear before that he isn't fond of it when he's spilling pleasantries and softness for the sake of upholding an image that they both know isn't real, but this isn't that. It's genuine like he'd lost a part of himself and it has Ren mentally shuddering in the uncertainty of the situation at hand.

Working is the keyword that perks him up. It's usually the excuse he gives to explain what they're doing, isn't it? Both of them know that in reality, it wasn't exactly that.)

You... (Fuck, he sincerely believes it, doesn't he?)

You were working against us. Don't you remember?

Edited (wording) 2020-09-17 17:58 (UTC)

[Akechi pauses, his hand going slack in Ren's as he looks at him, really looks at him. It sounds right, but it simply isn't.

He laughs pleasantly for lack of any real knowledge as to how to respond, turning and reaching with his free hand to press the back of it to Ren's forehead.]

Did you hit your head? [he asks with a smile, intentionally using the words he'd used when he and Ren had first reunited. Reunited...

wait

what? When were they apart?]

Don't you remember? We worked together in Sae-san's Palace, after I uncovered your identities. I did keep them from the press, if you'll recall.

(Ouch. The words poke at his heart - there's so much he remembers and so much he just can't recall. He's starting to put the puzzle pieces together that perhaps, Akechi's own memory is playing tricks in twisting him into a whole new person, one that perhaps could exist should certain pasts be erased.

He squeezes the hand placed on his before he comes closer, pressing a kiss to Akechi's forehead in a silent apology. This is the closest Ren'll get to him before he's him again, if he'll ever be him again and he sighs, heavy and sorrowful that he'll have to destroy the one time he's seen Akechi truly happy.

After all the talks they've had regarding Maruki's cheap notion of happiness, of just erasing one's past... Akechi refuses to be manipulated, doesn't he? Very well. His promise stands even here.)

I think something is messing with our memories. We need to talk.

Edited 2020-09-17 20:37 (UTC)

Ren...

[That kiss hurts, and he doesn't know why. It's so touching and emotional, unbearably gentle. Is that the kind of relationship he and Ren have? It's confusing. Something's missing.]

I agree. [And while his voice and expression are still those of an open, honest boy, there's unmistakable seriousness in his tone as he shifts slightly to put some distance between them. Not much, certainly not enough to draw his hand out of both of Ren's, but he still studies him carefully.]

Tell me what's wrong.

(How to summarize almost a year of rapid fire events? Ren notices the shift, but the hand remains with him and for the impact of what he's about to tell Akechi, he isn't releasing it. Instead, he intertwines their fingers and keeps the hands put on one of his legs.)

I don't remember how we met. We went out several times, but they're blurry to me... You figured out who we were and you plotted with the police... And you sold me out. (Ren takes a deep breath, taking the moment to study Akechi's expression. See if something is returning to him.)

The TV studio. I was being interviewed, and approached you after. We played pool together at Penguin Sniper.

[As for the rest... it's chilling. He keeps his eyes on Ren's, brows knitted together. There's a part of him that wants to deny it outright, but it feels right. Ren wouldn't lie to him. He could be confused, but it sounds right.]

...Why? [he can't help but ask, brows knitting further together as his hand goes slack in Ren's. Russet eyes scan the other boy's face, trying to make sense of it all.] I don't care for the police, I was just using them. I'd never sell you out to them.

[...Wouldn't he? Hadn't he? There's a blur there, something that keeps slipping out of his grasp as soon as he thinks he has it.]

(Maybe this Akechi wouldn't and he honestly believes it, from the very bottom of his heart. But reality is what it is, and he remembers that room more than ever now, with double the experience.

It pains him to resume their talk - not because of himself, at least not now and Ren is currently the last worry in Ren's mind.)

So you could kill me and get revenge. We tricked you, so you killed a Shadow... Then we went to Shido's and I thought you had died.

(That part stings for him personally, but before the words start to die in his throat, he continues.)

Then The Phantom Thieves and I defeated God, and now we're here... And I don't remember how... Us. I don't remember how us happened.

(What even is "us"?)

Revenge? [he echoes, and something digs at his heart. Something claws its way free, hisses yes, destroy them and his hands clench. The surge of overwhelming hatred at the mention of Shido makes him gasp, every muscle in his body going stiff and still as he closes his eyes.

What the fuck is Ren talking about? Why does he hate his father so much? Bits, pieces trickle in as he tries to follow a path with the scantest breadcrumbs Ren is giving him.]

We... parted ways in Shido's Palace.

[The words come slow, like he's questioning them himself. Then his head snaps up, searching Ren's eyes again.]

My mother. What happened to my mother? I can't remember!

(He knows he's starting to get to him because his hand is being squeezed with unfiltered strength. At least it's a sign and he doesn't mind that Akechi's fingers are exerting pressure on his bones.

The words are confirmed by Ren with a slow, but upset nod. He doesn't like to remember it, to relive how feeling helpless while Akechi's signal dies right in front of him. With how all he could do is give him a promise.

Just then, the next surge of panic from Akechi arises and there it is. This is what's missing, among so many other things. Ren doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to ruin it, doesn't want to make it hurt again... So he composes himself, squeezing the hand back before he could tell him.)

She is gone, Goro. I'm sorry. (The apology oozes with sincerity. Not only for the situation, but also for the need to bring it back into light.)

Edited (wrong icon) 2020-09-21 01:27 (UTC)

Gone?

[It's a whisper. His mouth opens as if to keep asking, keep pressing, but suddenly his heart aches. He was alone, so alone. No one at school wanted to associate with him, he could never have friends over his house. Men, countless men in his home while he was sent to the bathhouse. He knew better than to go back before she came for him, but she always came back for him. Always. The one damn person who stayed with him, no matter what.

Until she didn't anymore. She deserved so much more. And Shido, if Shido had done a single fucking thing, maybe he wouldn't have been such a cursed child for her. Maybe he could have done something for her. Maybe maybe maybe maybe.

Sadness is quickly wiped out by hatred, by a hissing sneer coiled around his heart whispering yes, yes, take from those who have too much and give it to those who deserve it. Take and take and take and rip it all down. She was too good for this fucking world, and the whole world can burn for all he cares.

Belatedly, he realizes he has to be squeezing Ren's hand hard enough that it hurts, and he lets go, draws back with a surge of horror.]

I... I...

[His hand goes to his face, and for a moment, he seems lost to find that there's nothing there. No mask, nothing to tear at but his own flesh, and so his fingernails bite into the skin near his eye as he tries to ground himself with something.]

Edited 2020-09-21 01:50 (UTC)

(Ren observes it, quietly, as if he could see the process right through Akechi's brain. He sees the cheerful man he has just met dim into sadness, and then transform that into anger. If only they had met a few years earlier, the thought pops into his head again. If only.

Akechi's nails are squeezing so hard that they've punctured his skin, but Ren doesn't flinch. If anything, he just keeps himself steady, ready to be there for him in whatever way necessary.

It's almost like watching a reawakening, the rebellion, the anger and the injustice too much to bear and as expected, Akechi's hands search for the mask that isn't there because there's no release here. There's nothing they can do to rip their pain out and act upon their resolves. Immediately, he sees that the realization wasn't enough and he takes Akechi's hands off his face by the wrists as to protect him from himself.

What he does next is to pull Akechi close, wrapping his arms around him strongly to keep him in place and from destroying everything in sight, and possibly himself in the process as well. It's an attempt of comfort too, but even so, he isn't sure that will be welcomed. If it's up to him, Akechi would never be alone ever again.)

Edited 2020-09-21 02:05 (UTC)

[He wants to scream. He needs to scream, fingernails gripping the side of his face and starting to drag down, as if he could rip off his own flesh to get at what's beneath and expose it. Look at me he'd wanted to scream back then. It never mattered. No one cared. No one wanted a noisy, unruly child. They wanted a polite boy, a boy who hid how he felt and guessed at the answers they liked best, a boy who kept himself out of the way and smiled pleasantly no matter what horseshit they fed him. A boy who molded his interests and personality into whatever shape would make people want him around.

And then his hands are taken from him, and he snarls with the unfamiliar action, resists being drawn into that hug.]

Stop. I don't need your pity. [His voice is shaking with the effort of maintaining his calm, and he tries to yank his hands back with a wild look in his eyes. That's right, he is an unwanted, cursed child, isn't he? His mother left him. No one else wanted him. His head is pounding, face itching, and he yanks to try to free his hands.]

Let go!

(Ren can't read minds, but he can see the despair, the pain and how there are thousands of thoughts swimming through Akechi's mind, clogging his judgement - almost like Call of Chaos, all he seems to see is red and whatever he wants to interpret from the situation at hand. Again.

Ren has never spoke of pity, he had never looked at the other boy like he was less than due to his past. Concern has a different color, and sometimes, Akechi doesn't understand it. But this isn't a fight to the death again, where everything goes.

He doesn't correct Akechi on his misunderstanding, but neither does he move entirely. Instead, Ren only pulls back enough to look at him, eyes never moving from the goggled ones once he does.)

Is that what you really want?

Edited 2020-09-25 00:03 (UTC)

Shut up!

[It's a shout with a hoarseness that surprises even himself, and he shoves himself to his feet and yanks as hard as he can to break Ren's grip and stumble backwards.

Everything hurts, and he can't classify any of these emotions because he's forgotten what some of them even are. Everything feels like it should be sharp and pointed and tinged with red.

Ren shouldn't see him like this. He doesn't want Ren to see him like this. So it's a shout, filled with as much hateful malice as he can muster in a verbal attempt to shove him away in defense.]

Get out, get out!!

(Dilemma.

Ren doesn't want to leave and that's the biggest part of him. He wants to be here, where he can actually do something, unlike the last time he saw Akechi this unhinged. A time when he had no choice but to let go and accept, a time that still rips him inside. It wasn't too long ago and that wound is still fresh and bleeding.

On the other hand, this isn't about him. As much as he would much rather help, there's a clear barrier that his pushing isn't going to help it budge. Perhaps, just perhaps, it's better to let him find his own balance for the time being.

Ren tries to make his hurting sigh as inaudible as possible before stands up, wordlessly studying the other on his way to the door.)

[Once his hands are finally free, he grips the sides of his head, tugging at his hair as if that might help him ground himself. Like a caged animal, he watches Ren move toward the door, equal parts wanting to scream about being alone, and not wanting Ren around while he works his way through this.

So he says nothing. He just glares daggers, breath coming hard and sharp through his nose.]

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003 - Memories of a False History

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