piper90npcs: (Default)
piper90npcs ([personal profile] piper90npcs) wrote in [community profile] goneawayworld2020-12-01 08:29 pm

HERE, HAVE SOME SPIRIT

Who: Three Ghosts and the little New Hires
What: Sharing the Christmas Spirit
Where: Good question
When: Post-Rose Tattoo
Warnings/Notes: Possible violence, angst, likely visions of death.

Are you sleeping?

Maybe. Maybe not. It's hard to tell. This could be another ARE, after all. What you can tell is that the halls are filled with mist, the smell of pine, and the sound of jingling bells off in the distance.

And then comes the wailing.

Tearing past you, screaming like a damned soul, skeletal figures flood through the halls. Some of them wear business suits, weighed down by chains crafted from ledgers and money boxes. Some of them are soldiers, bound by their own twisted weapons. Police, politicians, no one seems spared. Someone whispers, warning you, begging you to pay heed. For you will be visited by three ghosts who are on an errand of great import.

And then something charges with a howl and all goes white. Slowly, the light dims, and the mass of spectral entities is gone. Instead there stands a figure, or maybe two or three of them. For each person, it's different, as they'll have different messages and purposes for each.

One is neither male nor female, the only certain features being a well-muscled, well proportioned body, wearing a white tunic and a beautiful belt of pearl. Its hair is long, white, as if ancient, but no matter how its face changes, there's no sign of age upon it. There seems to be an aura of white flame around its head and, in a voice that belies nothing but charitable warmth, introduces itself as the Ghost of Christmas Past. It will show scenes of someone's past, offering enlightening details with little judgment.

The middle one is a large man on a veritable throne of food, tantalizing and delicious, wearing a fur-lined red robe and a crown of holly upon his head. The Ghost of Christmas Present is a big man, with brown hair, and a booming, jovial voice that can turn blisteringly harsh and back in a single sentence. He'll show what the character was doing immediately prior to their arrival upon the rig. Perhaps what they're doing right now. But he'll also be content to walk either the character's home world or this Gone Away World, viewing the sights and people enjoying Christmas with the character.

And the final one, a phantom in a dark, green robe, green smoke billowing around it. Its skin is pale, pulled gauntly around whatever body part it exposes. The gaze underneath the hood is as cold as the grave, and it would be wise not to try to match that for too long. It remains utterly silent, simply guiding its guest through the Christmases Yet To Come with a pointed finger. It will show how a character dies and how they'll be remembered by others after. It acts cold and merciless, but this very visit is a mission of mercy, one it silently prays will succeed.

The surprise, though, is that they aren't showing the character that history. Instead, they'll be guiding their guest through someone else's life. Maybe just a fraction of it, maybe a full span. But when it's all over, it's as if no time has passed. In fact, no. The characters are returned to an hour before the ghosts visited them.

[[Remember, this isn't your typical memshare. The ghosts are NPCs, but they'll be controlled by the players. They will not show characters their own histories, presents, or futures, only those of different people. They can show the same scenes to different people or different scenes to different people. One person might not even see all three of the Ghosts.]]
zerofield: (019)

PAST

[personal profile] zerofield 2020-12-09 02:25 am (UTC)(link)
The Ghost of Christmas Past leads its guest to an elevator, moving not through a building but suspended in a swirl of distorted space. Images - memories, rather - float past, and the sharp-eyed might be able to pick a few out before they're gone: A tiny Tio in the arms of her parents, although her eyes are a cool blue rather than the gold those who know her today would recognize. Rows of beds in some kind of laboratory, Tio only one of the many children restrained and hooked up to IVs and sensors. Tio unconscious in the arms of a concerned man wearing a jacket marked POLICE.

"Zemuria doesn't have Christmas," the Ghost explains. "But...ah, I think this is in the right spirit." The elevator slows, and they're in a hospital room. Tio, still maybe nine years old or so, is in the bed, still a bit pale and thin but not looking nearly as bad as the previous images. And the man in the police jacket is entering, grabbing a nearby chair and turning it backwards to straddle it next to her bed. Some people are too cool to sit normally, evidently.

"You're looking much better," the man says cheerfully. "No wonder I've got permission from the nurses."

Tio looks at him, her expression barely changing. "Does that mean..."

"Yeah. Few more days, and we'll have you on your way back to Remiferia. The chief talked to your parents, they sound pretty excited to have you coming back, too."

There's no excitement on Tio's end. Her gaze only drops to the bedsheets. "I see."

Awkward silence for a few moments. The man reaches over to put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. I know this is rough. It's not like everything just became okay the minute we got you out of there. But I'm not just shoving you on an airship and taking off. I'll be with you all the way back, and I'll be sticking around for a bit while you settle in again, too."

She looks up. "You will?"

"You bet. Hey, I got something for you, too." He lets go of her shoulder and goes to dig something out of his pocket. "Thought a good luck charm might be nice to have before we set out, you know?" He presses something into her hand and gently closes her fingers around it. "Mishy's kind of a big deal here in Crossbell."

Tio holds it up to the light. A keychain, with a silly-looking cat character.

"So maybe he can keep you company once I have to go home, right? Rest easy, give it some time. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next day, but I'm sure you'll become happy again...and if you don't, call on me. Anytime." He grins. "And we'll beat up whatever's making you sad. I promise."