goneawaymod: (Default)
Piper 90: Mods ([personal profile] goneawaymod) wrote in [community profile] goneawayworld2021-04-10 09:37 pm

3..2...1...CONTACT!

Who: The New Hires
What: Sudden Memory Share
Where: Their Memory Palaces
When: After "Don't Touch That Dial"
Warnings/Notes: Possible in every memory, warn in subject lines.

Contact.

It's during a pause in their day. A nap. An idle moment looking across the Top Deck. Taking a slow breath between reps in the training room.

The New Hires are connected. Mental pathways locking together, they're forced into one another's innermost beings. Thrust into one another's memory palaces where the mind collects and stores everything that makes them who they are. The core of their beings are only a few steps away and no one can help the violation.

To make matters worse, it comes with no explanation or no ability to pull out and stop. Once they're through the first memory, perhaps they can find a way out, but they're already witnessing some event from their host's past. And, if they left, who knows whether or not they'd end up accidentally invading another memory palace?

And if they were there, who was in theirs?

[[So, how this works: the memories can either be viewed in spectator mode or the guest can be experiencing everything themselves. The person whose memories are being shown, the host, can watch as their current self or take the form they had of their past self. They can talk about the memory with the "guest" that's visiting.

They cannot control the first memory shown, the player decides that, but they can control any other memories they'd like to show people after. Of course, there's also always the option of an extreme emotional reaction bringing up other memories unbidden.]]
paganpoetry: (Sad - Taken Aback)

[personal profile] paganpoetry 2021-04-21 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
[Oh, thank God. An escape from this sweaty room, from the squalling of the baby, from the stink of the hunting dog and her puppies, from the sight of this truly pathetic teenager pulling out her hair in frustration over how demoralizing and heartbreaking her single motherhood is. Thank God Rowena doesn't have to watch that or let anyone else keep gawking.

She takes a deep breath, shimmies her shoulders, and resets before she even begins addressing her rescuer. When she speaks, it's with a thick Scottish accent Saturday certainly didn't get back in Darlington.
] Ach, they could not have warned us?
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2021-04-23 10:13 pm (UTC)(link)
I was kinda hopin' last time was a fluke, myself. [Saturday shrugs her shoulders.] Could be worse -

[Saturday's discipline is good - she's an adept, after all - but this place is sensitive, and hungry. The same old nightmare memories spring up for a moment, fully alive around her: Maggie, throat slit. Herself, screaming. Bit, hitting the detonator. World going white. She pulls her mind away as hard as she can]

Man, fuck this place.
paganpoetry: (Surprised - Scared)

[personal profile] paganpoetry 2021-05-01 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
[Rowena raises her eyebrows and puts her hand to the base of her throat at the sudden influx of Saturday's memories, and it throws her attempts to take control of the dream world as well - for a moment, Rowena's nightmares flash into being as well, and image of her bloodied and broken on the floor as a blonde man stamps on her head, shouting magic your way out of this one, Red.

But Rowena's discipline is strong, too. Disposition determines execution is one of the tenets of spellwork; an otherwise perfectly recited incantation over the highest quality materials will backfire on the user in catastrophic ways if they haven't emptied their mind. She crams the devil back in his box, so to speak.
]

No, get someone else to fuck this place. It doesn't deserve the warmth of a woman. [She sneers and folds her arms.] When does it end?
wheyoftheadept: (Default)

[personal profile] wheyoftheadept 2021-05-08 03:08 am (UTC)(link)
[Magic. Magic is Maggie, and she grabs on to the association as hard as she can. Suddenly they're in an office, wood-paneled and filled with oddities, radiating safety. A different Saturday nestles against an orc girl - her best friend. They're napping on a couch facing a broad window looking out across a curving bay at a vast, fantastic city. Airships hang at anchor from spires that shouldn't be possible, branching into skyways and broad balconies. It gleams in the afternoon light.

They both sleep like people who aren't getting enough of it, and rarely in this kind of security. The Saturday of now hangs on to it, and the peace it brings.]


No idea. It just happens, probably the Stuff - dunno how to make it stop, it just ends on its own.