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!

▲▼▲▼▲▼▲▼▲
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?

back to top

code bases by tricklet

Comments

[simulatio]

Rank 10+ (closed to Rinoa)

Everything around you is blazing white. You've never been in a Palace with so much light before, it's sickening. If you cared, you'd feel absurd at just how much your black and blue bodysuit, with its clawed gauntlets and clawed boots, stands out against the background. In Sae-san's Palace, your white, fake prince uniform had stood out painfully. Now, in your truest form, you stand out even more.

At least Ren and Yoshizawa stand out just as much. They almost match, in a way, their long black coats well suited for enhancing dramatic flips. Your own cape is tattered, torn, fitting regalia for a fallen prince.

Wearing that one? Ren says, and you smirk, hold a hand aloft as if admiring its tattered sleeves for the first time, how its claws are perfectly pointed and ready for ripping flesh apart.

Oh, you mean this old thing? Your smirk tugs wider behind your mask. Everything is tinted red behind your visor, and you're just fine with that. Yoshizawa-san aside, there's no reason for me to uphold the pretense of a righteous, sincere Detective Prince.

You head into the Palace with your two partners, ready to get to the bottom of this mystery. First, they need information, and engaging with the Shadows is the most efficient way to do it. Of course, talks break down almost immediately, and that same smirk tugs at your lips. Loki clamors in your heart, the raw, feral urge to go all-out and show Ren what you can really do almost overpowering, the bloodlust leaking into your voice as you call commands in battle. Gone are the precise, almost delicate cuts from a laser saber; your serrated sword is for hacking, not for finesse, and oh, you're so good at it. A manic laugh bubbles from between your lips as you rip and rend and let the sheer joy of battle flow through your veins.

Oh, this is great. Finally, you can be yourself, eyes wild as Loki's power sings in your veins and echoes in your mind. You'll sow chaos as far as the eye can see, and Ren will have to witness it all.

1/2 Rinoa's memory

[pinwheels]

[ You're still shaking. If he'd been much later, you'd have fallen to your death. You're here, though, you're safe. It's a mantra that you keep repeating to yourself over and over. You're here. You're safe. Squall's with you. You can breathe.

You turn to him, swallowing the lump of fear in your throat. ] Thank you.

[ For a moment, he seems kind of flustered. ] It was, uh... don't worry about it. [ He regains his composure quickly though, gesturing a hand toward you. ] It was my job. We're still under contract. And it was everybody else's idea too. And I just happened to find you. That's all.

[ You can't help yourself; you start to laugh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. ]

So like I said, don't worry about it.

[ Now it's your turn to regain your composure, straightening up to nod up at him, a small smile on your lips. You're already feeling so much better. Even when he's being difficult, he has that effect on you. ]

You know something, I couldn't afford to fall off that cliff and die. I have something very important that belongs to you. I can't die until I give it back to you, right? [ You reach to the silver necklace you wear, fiddling with what are now two rings hung around it, where before there was only one: your mom's wedding ring, and one that's larger, a roaring lion etched into the silver. ] Zell gave it to me, see? I've been holding onto it.

[ He looks irritated, shrugging his shoulders and not saying anything for a long moment. He's probably trying to decide how he's going to go about murdering Zell. Eventually he sighs, putting his hand to his chest, like he's about to deliver some big heartfelt speech. ] That's my favorite ring. You'd better give it back.

[ You nod. ] I'm sure it is. It's a cool-looking ring. What's this monster on it anyway?

[ Squall stares at you in frustration, and you have to fight hard to keep the smile from curving your lips. ]

It's not a monster. It's a lion. Lions are known for their great strength and pride.

[ You fold your hands behind your back, closing the ground between the two of you. When you reach him, you lower your gaze, toes of your boot scraping over the ground. ]

Hmm... great strength... pride... Kinda like you, Squall.

[ He shakes his head. ] I wish...

Hmm... so this L I O N of yours, does it have a name?

Of course. Griever.

So that's what you call it. You know, Zell said he'll make me one exactly like it. who knows, maybe I can become like a lion, too. [ Your smile brightens, and you clap your hands together, looking back up at him. ] That'd be crazy, huh?! I mean, everyone might, you know, get the wrong idea about us. [ You didn't do a great job of hiding how happy the thought makes you, but then again, you weren't really trying, were you?

Squall is visibly uncomfortable. His arms fold over his chest, and he looks away. Is that a blush starting on his cheeks? ]

You sound like you want everyone to get the wrong idea.

[ You shake your head, wag your finger at him. ] No-no-no-no-no! [ Despite your protests, though, there's a smile on your face that tells him that he was probably right. No hiding.

He sighs, and his arms drop from where they were folded, looking back at you with a tired expression. ]

Everyone's waiting. Let's go, Rinoa.

2/2 Starter!

[pinwheels]

[ The only reason she knows who the memory belongs to is that Ren is there, talking to her - or rather, to whomever the memory belongs. ...No, whomever is the wrong word. It's clear that the memory is Akechi's. Clear despite the fact that the personality in the memory is completely different to the one he's shown her.

...there's no reason for me to uphold the pretense of a righteous, sincere Detective Prince.

It explains a lot, Rinoa thinks. Right from the moment they met, she knew he wasn't quite sincere in how he acted, but... nonetheless, she didn't expect him to be... like that. The bloodlust in his voice, the singing heat in his veins, the manic laughter, the sword that she remembers seeing on the beach - serrated for a reason. There's something about the memory that sends a chill down her spine.

She doesn't know which apartment is his, so she heads to Ren's - the door is surprisingly closed, and she knocks with a smile that hides the strange anxiety she suddenly feels. She trusts Ren, knows he would have told her if Akechi was a real danger to the others in the Void, and yet she can't help but worry anyway. ]

Ren? It's Rinoa. Have you seen Akechi? I... think I have a memory of his.

[simulatio]

[If there's one thing Akechi hates, it's weakness. Feeling weak, feeling like he has to rely on someone. But for a moment, when he thinks back, it's... a weirdly nice feeling, to know that someone was able to save him. Squall?

The voice and mannerisms in that memory certainly don't match his own, though, and as he sits in Ren's room with a notebook in front of him, slowly trying to sort out the things that belong to him and the things that don't, a more difficult task than one might initially assume -- he hears the knock and Rinoa's voice.

There's a part of him that wonders if he shouldn't just ignore it, the same part of him that whispers that he's a trespasser, that Ren will get tired of him being here and throw him out. It's what always happens, after all.

But then she says his name, and, well. He simply rises to his feet and unlocks the door before he can think better of it, meeting her eyes unflinchingly.]

Ren isn't here right now, Rinoa-san, but I'd be quite interested in hearing about it.

[More than anything else right now, Akechi looks weary beyond belief. For one thing, he's not wearing his smart school uniform, but rather Ren's casual white v-neck over his usual uniform pants. There's a lot that can be assumed from that alone, but the correct conclusion to draw would be that the hint of gauze and bandages just barely visible beneath the cut of his borrowed shirt, wrapped around his left shoulder, probably has something to do with it.

For another, there's no hint of warmth in his expression, just a cool wariness lurking behind tired eyes as he opens the door more widely.]

Please, come in.

[pinwheels]

[ If she's surprised to see Akechi here, she doesn't voice it.

And really, she's not that surprised. With his determination in the memory to show his power, with Ren's apparent acceptance of Akechi's true self, it's clear that they're important to one another.

She has questions, of course, but in reality there's a lot of things the memory has cleared up for her. And so it's with a smile that she accepts the invitation, stepping into the apartment. Her own experience with this whole thing has taught her that Akechi won't remember the memory of his that she currently possesses, and so she explains: ]

You were in something called a Palace, with Ren and a girl called Yoshizawa. Everything was bright and pure and white - you hated it, even though it looked red through your visor. But... you were being yourself for once.

"There's no reason for me to uphold the pretense of a righteous, sincere Detective Prince."

[ She tilts her head with a curious smile. ]

Which is kind of the same pretense you've been upholding here, right?

[ She wants to ask him why, but there's time for that later. First, they have to get through the part where he gets his memory back in his own head. Then, they need to address why he looks so tired. She hasn't spotted the bandages yet, but if she does, those will be added to the list. She can sat her own curiosity after the fact. ]