003 - Memories of a False History

[tabularasa_mods]

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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code bases by tricklet

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Rinoa <3

[blue_eyed_obsession]

[References: Orphanage, Lil Seto & Mokuba]

[Having just lost both of your parents in a tragic accident, you were now standing just inside the gates of a sprawling orphanage, with your little brother at you're side. Between the two of you, you carried the few scant belongings you owned inside your respective bags, and you were wearing downtrodden expressions while the adults around you talked as if you might as well not even been present. They were deciding your fate for you, without allowing you to weigh in on it. The two attendants from the establishment at least tried to act cordially. The relative that was dumping you here spared a few pats to the top of your brother's head as if that was supposed to be comforting. Why start feigning to care now? They didn't. They got what they wanted out of the deal, taking whatever inheritance your parents left you and your sibling and disposing of the rest.

It was hard to describe just how you were feeling at that moment since this was the culmination of so many ill-fated incidences but you knew you wanted to appear strong for your brother's sake. He was taking it pretty hard and didn't entirely understand what was going on. When he'd been able to talk Mokuba had asked you about where you were going and what was happening and you'd tried to explain it but his apprehension made you question if he really appreciated the full weight of what you said.]

Where are they taking us?
To an orphanage.
... for how long?"

[This question pained you the most, since it was obvious that he thought this was some temporary stay-over and he didn't want to be left here.] ... possibly forever. There's no one left to care for us so they're dumping us here.

[The days and weeks that followed once you had been admitted weren't much better. For whatever reason the resident orphan kids didn't immediately accept the pair of you and they took to bullying Mokuba. Catching them surrounding the raven-haired boy you warded them off with a ferocity in your eyes that seemed to speak to them even louder than your words and actions did. From that point onward, the pair of you kept to yourselves not associating with the others if you could help it. That was fine. All you cared about was your little brother anyway.

Taking him out for a walk one day you drove the one point home you thought would matter, that would make this easier for him. The sun was setting casting yellow hues over the terrain, and as you neared a bridge you stopped and spoke to him.]

Okay spill it, what's on your mind?

[Wiping the tears away that were starting to pool at the corner of his eyes] I miss mom and dad. I wish that they were here with us right now. It's not fair that they left us here all alone.

Come on, no crying. [Speaking through gritted teeth.] Tears aren't going to help us now. There's only one way you and I are going to get through this. We've got to get tough. Emotions will only get in the way of our survival. Don't expect anyone else to help us ever again. You and I are on our own now. [Rather than accepting the feelings of pain and loss, you rejected them flatly and tried to encourage Mokuba to do the same .]

1/2 Rinoa's memory

[pinwheels]

[ Quistis tells you that your job is the most important. They may be the ones up on the stage, but you're the one they're relying on to make sure Squall shows up. And in the end it's not as hard as you think it will be; it's as simple as telling him that you'd like him to come out, that you want to talk. There's reluctance in his blue eyes, but he agrees, and before you know it, you're seated on a ledge looking out over the floor of Fisherman's Horizon while your friends play a jig. ]

It's about your promotion. Things are gonna get real tough for you, right? [ He looks away, but that just gives you the courage to keep going. ] Squall, I'm sure there'll be a lot of difficult things that you'll have to deal with from now on. We were talking about that, and saying how you'll probably try to handle everything on your own. They know you too well. I do, too, although I haven't been around you that long.

[ He's easy to tease; you copy the way he slumps, brows creasing, hand to your forehead. He starts, frustration on his features, and you roll away with a giggle. ]

I'm out of here.

Oh, come on! I'm sorry! [ Despite the apology, you're still giggling to yourself as you move to crouch behind him, smoothing the soft cream fabric of your dress over your thighs. It's just... ] ...You can't handle everything on your own.

[ And then your hands find the flat of his back, and you shove him right off the ledge, sending him sprawling onto the glass floor below. He's furious, you can see it all over his face, he even gestures angrily with his arm, but you meet him with ferocity of your own. ]

That's it! Just let out anything! [ Your own fire dies quickly, fingers closing around your mother's ring where it's hung at your neck. ] We want you to talk to us a little more. That's all. Y'know, if there's anything you want to tell us, or anything we can do, don't hesitate to let us know. I know it's not easy but I wish you would trust us and rely on us a little more.

[ Squall puts his head in his hand and turns away, silent. Silent, despite what you only just said. You can see the cogs turning in his head, but there's still no words on his lips. Your hands locked behind your back, you turn to walk in a circle, and when you talk, your tone is flirty, playful. ]

What a night. Great music... Good-looking guy... Not only is he good-looking. He's the sweetest guy... a great listener. Right now, he's seriously thinking about what I said. He's shy and doesn't say anything, but I know. [ You stop walking, hands falling back to your sides, looking at him quietly. The flirtacious tone is over, your face serious again. ] So, what do you think? None of our business?

I appreciate your concern... But...

[ You run to him, heels clicking on the glass floor, lifting a hand toward him, palm out as if to tell him to stop. ]

No 'buts'! [ You tilt your head, looking at him with a smile. ] Just think about this. This might be the only time we'll all be together. So, as long as we're together, we might as well enjoy each other's company and... just talk, right?

...Just for now, huh? [ He shakes his head. ] Forget it. I don't want friends who won't be around tomorrow.

[ You can't help it; you laugh, hand coming to your mouth to hide the wide smile behind it. ]

Gosh, you're such a pessimist. There are no guarantees in the future. That's why TODAY, the time we have now, is important. Squall, we wanna help you, as much as we can, for as long as we can. [ You reach out, tap him over his heart before lying your hand over your own. ] We all love you. There, I said it. Please don't freak out. We just wanna live, y'know, live through this time with you, together.

[ His eyes are wide as he looks at you. ] ......Together...?

Keep it in the back of your mind. Call on us whenever you need to. We'll be waiting. Like I said, who knows what's gonna happen in the future... but I have a feeling we'll be together for a while.

2/2 Starter!

[pinwheels]

[ It starts with a trip to Aerith's church, a gentle brush of her fingers through the patch of flowers. Her mind's wandering, thinking back to the field of flowers by Edea's orphanage, the promise she and Squall made, the—

—orphanage.

The memory surfaces in her mind like it was always meant to be there, so strong that for a moment she almost believes it really is hers. But she never had a brother, and it's the others who lived in an orphanage, not her. Nor would she ever hide her emotions behind clenched teeth. Really, there's only one person she's met in the Void who would do that... ]

Kaiba?

[ She knocks on the door of his apartment again, not sure if he's there or elsewhere, but it feels like the first best place to try. ]

Would you open the door? It's Rinoa.

Awesome /o/!

[blue_eyed_obsession]

[By this point, Kaiba had experienced enough strangeness for the day tyvm. He'd taken back to the confines of his apartment trying to block it all out but the door and these paper thin walls weren't enough to shield him.

Another set of imagery that didn't fit his personality. This time it almost had him believing that he would hound someone else to confide in him, and instill the virtues of the power of friendship. It was borderline nauseating especially with the overt flirting whether it was intentional or not. How come so many of these lost memories were from female perspectives. What kind of game was the void playing with him?

He notices the second knock- and huffed. Having been seated at his desk, holding his head in his hands, he pushed back from the table and assumed a more dignified position. Looking briefly to his jacket he left it hanging on it's respective hook before reluctantly moving over to open the door.

His eyes landed on her and he looked thoughtful for a moment, questioningly]

What is it?

[pinwheels]

[ Rinoa offers Kaiba a smile when he opens the door, something soft and gentle and not at all like her usual bright and friendly-bordering-on-flirty kind of smile. She's sure he'd be angry if she ever admitted it, but she feels bad for him.

"We've got to get tough." Was that where it all started? With the only family he had left leaving him behind? With being abandoned at an orphanage, left to care for and protect a younger brother who needed support? And he was only a kid himself...

Self-protection, then. Shutting himself down to protect himself from those who might hurt him. Strengthening himself so that the bullies would leave his brother alone. It reminds her of Squall, of his determination to be strong. Like a lion.

She takes a deep breath, fiddles with the rings hung at her neck.

It's not an easy sort of question to ask, knowing how he probably feels about it, but... ]

You have a younger brother, right? Mokuba?

[blue_eyed_obsession]

[Looking at her expression already gives him a queasy sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach, mostly because he can tell that something is off- different somehow. Rinoa wasn't incorrect in her assessment, he wouldn't appreciate her sympathy equating it more to pity.

Was it a coincidence that she was here now, thinking back on the memory he'd recently viewed. It wasn't difficult to draw some parallels between how she carried herself and the person who'd served as his point of view. The persistence, the airiness of her tone, the pep talks. Still, as he was gazing at her now and her delicate features he briefly wondered something- if she spent so much time concerning herself with others, what sort of insecurities might be hiding herself? Not that it was any of his concern.. It's not as if they were close companions.

Little did he know that she was conducting her own character analysis in the reverse, and an alarmingly accurate one. Seto had done what he had needed to be in order to ensure that what was little was left of his family remained both together and secure. If that meant casting aside his emotions, and becoming cold and unfeeling then so be it. Any weakness could be used against you, chipping away at your foundations until you crumbled into nothingness. Therefore, he vowed to have none.

Seeing the nervous gesture, he looked past her into the hallway]

Maybe... you should step inside before saying anything else.

[That was a big maybe, but guess just this once he would have to make the sacrifice of inviting someone else into his personal space. Stepping to one side he allowed her to pass by him if she chose to do so.]

[He quirked up an eyebrow at that. When had he told her that? Tifa had overheard him saying the name before, had the girls compared notes?]

Yeah.... [Said with suspicion in his voice] What about him? [For one brief moment he felt oddly hopeful- maybe this meant that Rinoa had found the younger Kaiba and was working towards reuniting them but he mentally chided himself for the momentary lapse. Would she look so apprehensive if it was good news?]

[pinwheels]

[ The suggestion is accepted, and Rinoa nods, slipping past him into the apartment when he moves aside for her. She casts a quick glance over the room, noting not for the first time how even with the apartments being identical when they first moved in, how even with the limited amount of things they have available to them here, they've managed to make their individual places unique.

But she has more important things to talk about than the state of his apartment; she offers him a small smile and reaches up to curl her fingers more tightly around her rings. ]

Then it was your memory...

[ She shakes her head. ]

I can't really explain it, but I've got a memory of yours, I guess? At the orphanage, with Mokuba. They were bullying him, you know? The other kids. You protected him a lot, tried to help him...

[ In his own way, at least. Completely different to how she herself would handle things, which is partly why the memory felt so out of place in her head. She would never encourage anyone to accept being alone.

(Little does she know that she's lost a memory of her own that proves exactly that.)

But she's not here to lecture him or try to change him, at least not today. This memory is his, and she needs to give it back to him. ]

Does that sound... familiar to you at all?