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

Comments

Memory: Becoming a Grandfather (cw: childbirth and use of the word 'daddy')

[symbolofstrength]

((This is for Leo but if you want your character to get this memory too let me know and we can arrange something.))

A very pregnant brown-haired woman pants and strains as she reclines on a hospital bed; a man in scrubs at the end of the bed busies himself between her legs, telling her to breathe and push. At her side, supporting her and holding her hand, is her father-in-law, already grey-haired but not yet as old as he will someday be. Eventually a baby's cry mingles with her sounds of exertion, and the grey-haired man turns toward the sound, unable to keep a wide smile from forming across his face. A grandchild! And him, a grandfather!

"It's a boy!" The doctor announces; a grandchild, and a grandson!

"You hear that? You have a son!" Samuel turns back toward his daughter, who wears her exhaustion plainly on her face, but is smiling just as widely as him.

...Mother and child are cleaned up, afterbirth is taken care of, and the pink wrinkly baby is now wrapped up and in her arms, while the proud grandfather peeks over her shoulder. The baby wiggles, vaguely waving an arm in his direction.

"Do you want to hold him, Professor?" The woman offers, and Samuel nods; she carefully passes the baby over, and he cradles him to his chest. There's a look of pure love on his face as he carefully peels back the blanket to get a clear look at the baby's face, as he offers a finger for him to grasp. But something else is bothering him, and his face sobers slightly as he looks back up at his daughter-in-law... no, his daughter.

"You know... you're the mother of my grandson. I think you've earned the right to call me 'Dad'." Having his grandchild's mother address him as 'Professor' and not by some fatherly title, or even just his name... it doesn't seem right. They haven't spent much time together, he doesn't really know her that well... but they're family now.

The woman is surprised by the offer, but soon gives him a tired smile and leans toward him, resting her head on his broad shoulder to look down at her son.

"Okay, Daddy." Sam feels his face grow warm, but says nothing, instead looking back down at his grandson as the smile softly returns to his face, slowly waving the finger the baby is grasping and gently pulling his arm along with the movement. For the moment, for mother, son, and grandfather, there is peace.

[bachagain]

Leo's something of a mess with all the fragments of things in his head, but he's taken to functioning through it all by focusing on one thing, one memory at a time. There are some that are easier than others -- both in finding the source and the content -- and this is one of them. It's... actually surprisingly mundane, domestic, and normal in the deluge of extraordinary things in his head. That's a good thing. It's motivation, too, to find the owner.

Which shouldn't be too difficult? Even his one braincell can determine that there's only so many people in the Void that could match a memory like this, considering the age this person must be... Unless Leo was dealing with some kind of Normal Memory From An Immortal or something? Which was entirely possible. That'd be interesting, actually--

Okay, mmm, maybe deal with the obvious suspects first. This reason is why Oak is approached by this orange-haired boy (wherever he is), with nothing but a simple wave.

"Heya! Are you a Professor...? I'm looking for a Professor!"

Random. So very random. But this ingenious plan of latching onto a random, identifying fact in these things and casting his net out wide has been doing wonders... Why stop?

Very sorry, Oak.

[symbolofstrength]

"Professor...?" He blinks blankly at the boy. "I don't know, I might be."

No, that isn't a flippant way of dodging the question. His title isn't mentioned on his ID, so he has no idea.

"I must be some kind of scientist or doctor, I think, but I don't know about professor." And where did he get that idea? He holds out a photo, one that has him in it, and the professor in the picture is wearing a labcoat (while the man standing before Leo is not). Well, he kept some of his cultural knowledge, at least?

"Why do you need... a professor?"

[bachagain]

Oh, no. He's really hit a snag here, hasn't he...? Or rather, this maybe-probably-Professor has hit a snag. Imagine losing this much of yourself that you don't even know who you are? That's a little sad, now that Leo thinks about it.

Maybe he can provide a little piece to fix this...? He isn't sure, actually. Can someone who's this lost about things recognize something that's theirs, even?

There's no harm in trying. And Oak is asking the question anyway, so looking over the picture, Leo simply answers with the truth.

"Mmmm... I have a memory. Since, you know, that's the thing the Void wants to go with this week!"

Or, however long this is. Time. Not that that's the concern right now, so moving on--

"It's hard to figure out what belongs to who when I haven't spoken to 'em before, so I've been focusing on the small stuff I can pick out. This one mentioned a "Professor", so I've been sticking with that! I reeeaally hope this is yours, 'cause from the sounds of it they really dug into your head. D'you not remember anything?"

[symbolofstrength]

"Oh, is everyone else having problems with their memory too?" That would explain his own amnesia.

At his final question, he nods. He still has his general knowledge, but everything personal is just... gone. "If it weren't for my ID, I wouldn't even know my own name." He crosses his arms in thought, before pulling out his wallet.

"I've got some photos of other people with me... I figure they must know me, and if I can find them they can tell me about myself." Even without memory, his intelligence and problem-solving skills are still intact.

"Can you take a look, and see if there's anyone you recognize?"

[bachagain]

He's really starting from square one, huh... Leo isn't sure how coherent he'll be explaining this to someone who truly, truly has no clue about the who, what, wheres and hows of their own existence, so maybe he should just take this one step at a time.

Step one: do what Oak is requesting, and then move onto trying to line his pieces up in the way Leo knows... has been kind of working? He doesn't wanna spook this mindwiped grandpa too much, honestly.

"Sure, sure! It's the least I can do. Show me the pictures, and I'll tell you what I know... and maybe a little more than that, after? I'll follow your lead!"

What a weird thing to end that sentence with, but whatever.

[symbolofstrength]

With a hopeful smile, Sam carefully removes the photos from his wallet and hands them over.

"Please don't damage them." Of course, that goes without saying... maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it, maybe he gave him ideas?

However, there is a jackpot in the photos as far as determining who the memory is from goes: The brown-haired woman is there! There's a brown-haired boy as well, with a strong resemblance to her. Of course there are others, but they have no clear link to the memory.

[bachagain]

"I won't. I know this stuff's important, so I'll be suuu~per careful!"

Leo can be an energetic disaster, but he's not careless enough to ruin someone's important things when he's told to take care of them. So, he's gentle when flipping through them... and when he catches sight of that familiar face, something in his expression and eyes lights up. Yep, yep, so this was for sure the right person. With that confirmed, he outstretches the photos back to Oak, the one with the brown-haired woman right on top. And, umm, isn't that brown-haired boy kinda familiar looking...? Was he in the memory too?

No, Leo, focus.

"This one's familiar! The lady is, I mean. Mm, I don't think that person's around here, though? At least, I haven't seen 'em," but before Oak can interject, Leo continues on. "But! This just means that I'm sure now that I've got something to give back to you, Mister Grandpa. Can I tell you what I know about 'em? See if that gets your braincells working a little, going 'oh, woah, how did I ever forget'?"

[symbolofstrength]

Sam waits while Leo flips through the photos, glad to see he's being careful with them. He glances down at the photo when they are handed back, still as clueless as ever.

"Oh? Do you know who she is? Her name?" He hasn't mentioned it yet, so... maybe not? But wait, something else Leo said caught his attention:

"What do you mean, grandpa?" Is he just calling him that because of his age, or is he actually a grandpa? At his question, though, he nods eagerly. Whatever there is to sit in the vicinity, he'll take a seat himself and wave Leo toward another nearby. Somehow he feels like he'll want to be sitting down for this.

[bachagain]

Leo's following behind with a smile. There's no hint of an explanation provided until they're both comfortably sitting down, as he fidgets somewhat... not in nervousness, but in a kind of playfulness. He kicks his feet back and forth as he begins:

"I dunno her name and I dunno who she is, not really! But, I remember who she is to you? She's your precious daughter! Not by blood or anything... She ended up in your family by chance, by luck, and then you found a way to love her as if she was your own!"

Or he could just say that's his darn daughter-in-law, but Leo is, unfortunately, prone to theatrics and poetry. Especially when it concerns family you have and family you find, so.

"Is that working? Or did I say that in a confusing way? I'm really bad at explaining stuff sometimes!"

At least he has some self-awareness, as he props his chin up on the palms of his hands.

[symbolofstrength]

Funnily enough, that's not far off from how Sam would have described her when he still had his memory; he would always introduce her as his daughter, not his daughter-in-law. Meanwhile, his eyes light up at the revelation.

"I see, so I have a daughter!" He takes a better look at the photo, smiling affectionately down at it. Though oddly, there were no pictures of women his own age in his collection, nor do his fingers show any signs of ever bearing a ring... so how he got a son for his daughter-in-law to be married to will forever be a mystery.

"Do you know anything else? From that 'memory'?" He nods, at least, at Leo's question. He understands their relationship well enough, now he just wants all the details he can get.