Piper 90: Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
goneawaymod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
goneawayworld2021-04-10 09:37 pm
goneawaymod) wrote in 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.]]
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.]]
cw: mention of parental death
"I was a jumpy little kid. Back then I could still be woken up by loud noises, ma hearin' loss hadn't progressed so far, so the thunder and rattlin' scared me somethin' fierce," she says, with a nod. "Think this was ma first power outage, actually; stuff's usually built to withstand this kinda thing, these days."
"Hush now," her gran says, gentle but firm in her reassurance. "We're all here, and all safe. It's just the wind's taken down a line somewhere."
"What about Mam?" little Cammie asks. "Is she in the dark?"
Her dad laughs softly. "Oh, Bun, she's likely better off than we are. Those rigs are built to take the weather. She's probably tucked up in her bunk right now, reading a nice mystery, or out on the Ether talking to her friends."
The real Cammie smiles, a smile edged with both nostalgia and a little touch of sadness. "Maybe, aye. It's hard to live up to home." Gods, she misses it. It was quiet, just her and her Gran, but it was home. "Think I'd put my money on that bein' somethin' to do with the way ma brain's wired, or ma experience with havin' other people's memories, but that's the boring explanation. I like yours better."
She doesn't mention how her Dad's dead, now; how he didn't live long past finding out her Mam had died in an attack on a rig she was decommissioning, years later than this night. She doesn't mention it just like she doesn't question the implication that Robbie's childhood decidedly did not live up to the illusion presented by Darlington, because this is still a nice memory, and she's sure neither of them want to depress themselves.