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.]]
no subject
Rowena gives Merton a bland smile back at his critical expression, as if she has no idea whatsoever why he might be defensive. And then he folds so very easily into just accepting it, which isn't all that fun, because Rowena does love to tease.]
Those are hardly incompatible, my dear. I've heard throughout many centuries that the best lovers are your best friends. [But, as Rowena doesn't have any friends, she'd prefer not to believe that's true; Rowena hates the idea of there being something out there that's out of her reach.] So, if you were considering it, his friendship with you might be a...perk.
[A slight, innocent shrug as she checks her nails.]
no subject
[As she continues forward with the topic of his relationship with Tommy, it becomes clear that she's not just mocking him, and somehow that makes it more mortifying. Teasing he could handle, been there done that, but an honest, strait forward conversation about his feelings toward his friend? Couldn't she just set him on fire? That would be simpler, he wouldn't have to have this conversation and it would probably be more entertaining for her. A win-win, really.
At the mention of best friends making the best lovers his face turns a brilliant shade of pink, and he can't quite keep himself from glancing around the room on instinct, like the figments of his memories might overhear. Catching himself, he squeezes his eyes closed and shakes his head.]
O-Okay. There's no considering happening. There's really nothing to even consider. I don't think about him that way, and I'm not exactly his type. [Which, knowing the kinds of girls Tommy went for, that might be the understatement of the century. Quickly realizing that wasn't the best point to lead with though, he pushes forward with the next.] More importantly, there are certain aspects of our friendship that would make suggesting that...that kind of relationship arguably unethical.
no subject
And not his type just paints it plainly that the attraction is, at worst, one-sided but there.
She reaches out to give Merton's shoulder an affectionate squeeze.]
Come, dear. Show me more, or I'll never stop grilling you over that strapping young Tommy. [She bats her lashes.] If these memories were tangible and he were a few years older, I might try pursuing him myself.
no subject
Flashing an uncomfortable smile, an equally uncomfortable laugh titter out of him.
There was a temptation to bitterly joke that, historically speaking, Rowena was more his type than Tommy's, but he bit his tongue against it. That wasn't a road he wanted to so much as stick his toe down, jokingly or otherwise. It also probably wouldn't have been a great idea to just willingly open that wound for her. Rowena was sure to get enough dirt on him as it was. Why just hand her more on a silver platter?
It may have been that thought of exes though, that unfortunately spurred on the next memory, as he led them through the cafeteria doors and into a hall it shouldn't have connected to.]
[Tommy and his past self walk out of a nearby classroom that had been labeled and decorated for a “Gothic Fantasy Guild” meeting, where according to the printed signage next to the room, they’d been having a vote for Guild President. The memory of himself struggled to take off a black over-frock that was at least three times too big for him and sported a campaign button promoting himself for president of the guild.
As soon as the real Merton spotted them, recognition dawned on him and he quickly tried to lead Rowena back through the door they’d just come from.]
Oh wow, this one’s totally boring, just stupid school stuff. Why don’t we just-
[ Unfortunately for him, the doors they’d just walked out of vanished, leaving a flat wall with no exit.]
Or, we could...go with this one. I only have my dignity to lose after all. Not like I had all that much to begin with.
[ “That vote is bogus! I want a recount!” The last few indignant words get muffled as the memory of the two start heading up a staircase and the oversized frock gets caught around his head.
“Come on ya’ baby. Treasurer isn’t so bad.” Teasing but keeping his tone affectionate, Tommy walks next to his friend, making sure he doesn't trip over himself and fall back down the stairs.
“Yeah, easy for you to say." Finally freeing himself from the frock as they reach the top of the steps, he lets it drop to the floor with a huff, sounding defeated, pouty and frustrated but at least winding down to something closer to calm. "You were voted vice president and you weren’t even on the ballot.”
Before Tommy can respond, another voice cuts into their conversation with a dramatic “By the way!”, and a boy comes sweeping out of the Guild classroom with all the flair and smugness of a puffed-up rooster. Merton’s temper immediately flares back up at seeing the slick blond throwing him a cocky smile from the bottom of the stairwell, throwing back a shit-eating grin of his own. “Anytime you want me to reverse the spell I cast on you, just admit that I am the superior warlock.”
“Yeah. That’ll happen. I’ll keep that in mind.” His tone was a dangerously thin sheet of exhausted, sarcastic politeness, haphazardly tossed over a broiling undercurrent of hostility. And in a stark change from his normal timid and pacifistic temperament, it quickly breaks. “Yeah, and incidentally, anytime you want to come over and kiss my a-!” Merton quickly gets cut off by Tommy with a shell shocked, “WHOA! WHOA!”
“Merton! That is no way to talk to the president of the Gothic Fantasy Guild.” As Tommy chided him, Merton briefly looked back up at his friend with a mix of shock and betrayal, before his attention was drawn back to the blond by a mocking, “That’s right”. And it's probably a good thing that Merton didn't have Rowena's ability to set people on fire because if he had, the tall, twiggy, blond would have likely gone up in flames faster than dry kindling doused in gas.
“This guy. Sorry, chief." As Tommy blithely continued, giving the blond an apologetic wave, Merton snaps “Chief now?” with the tone of one who's trying to figure out whether or not they're losing their mind. Tommy either does not hear or just ignores it, pushing on, as he insisted, "It won’t happen again.”
As the blond shoots finger guns Tommy's way and tosses a wink at Merton, the tiny goth looked like he was about five seconds away from throwing himself down the stairs and choking him.
Seemingly sensing the very real danger of that, Tommy turns back to his friend and hooks an arm around his midsection, easily pulling him away from the other boy with a bark of “Come!”, completely unbothered by Merton struggling to get out of his hold like an angry cat.]