goneawayworld | Invasion!

Entry tags:

Invasion!

Who: The New Hires
What: Sudden Memory Share
Where: Their Memory Palaces
When: After Intermission
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 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 cannot control the first memory shown, the player decides that, but they can control any other memories they'd like to show people. Of course, there's always the option of an extreme emotional reaction bringing up memories unbidden.]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There are two people in the bushes.

That's about all that can be said of them. They have hair and facial features and body shapes and all the things people should have, but the mind fails to properly register anything beyond their existence. One of the people is speaking softly to the translucent bird perched on their forearm. The bird responds with something that isn't so much a sound as the idea of a sound and hops off the person's arm and takes flight into the clearing ahead, and the two indistinct people settle in to watch.

The clearing is occupied by half a dozen others, a mix of humans and wolves and wolf-monsters like Stacia's turned into, but unlike her brown and gray fur, all of them are shining silver. The translucent bird flies directly to one of the humans, a girl with fine clothes and silver-blond hair, and she welcomes it with the delight of a surprise visit from a friend. Then it begins to speak to her, and she stiffens, shooting a look of horror first at one of the silvery wolves and then at wolf-monster brooding on the other side of the clearing. Neither seem to notice her, but she visibly steels herself, rising to her feet and approaching the latter.

When she speaks to the wolf-monster, all hell breaks loose.

The monster rounds on the wolf and roars in incandescent fury, and the wolf explodes into another wolf-monster and everything in the clearing is teeth and claws and so, so much blood. The silver-blond girl transforms into an enormous wolf and bolts from the clearing like her tail is on fire, howling her panic to the sky. The other five are locked in combat, minds lost to rage beyond anything humanity knows.

It's over in minutes, though those minutes are stretched by the horror within. And the end of it all, the only one standing is the wolf-monster who started the physical fight, and them only barely. Their silver fur is soaked in their own blood and the blood of their pack, and the two figures in the bushes wait patiently for the snarling to cease and the horror to set in.

Then they rise and begin to walk away.

Alloran puts a hoof into a pool of blood, vaguely wondering what it tastes like, and then remembers that he doesn't have to do that, he's not annoying Esplin by sampling unpleasant things he happens to be standing in anymore. He pulls his hoof back and contemplates picking his way across trying to keep to clean spots, with his hooves closed and not eating or drinking until he's had the chance to wash away any stray fluids. Like normal people do.

Normal people also don't have to be zoned out or keep everything to themselves. <So what was the point of that? I assume there was a reason.>

Stacia appears, peeling off of one of the two unidentifiable figures. She looks grim, but neither embarrassed nor repentant. Not even a little ill.

"The short version is that they killed two of my pack, maimed me, and hurt my mother," she says. "At the end of a very, very long list of other injustices undertaken because they believe themselves better than other people. The fuck are you doing in my head, Alloran."

It should be a question, but it isn't.

<Ah. Some things certainly are universal,> he muses. There's always someone who thinks they're better than whoever they're visiting horrific things upon. He's been in both places. <Would that I knew. This is markedly less invasive than being a Yeerk, but it wasn't my choice, either.>

Alloran follows the progress of the humans he can't distinguish much of. <That's an unsettling effect.>

Yes, that's what strikes him as uncomfortable.

"It's magic being used to prevent identification," Stacia says dryly. "It's supposed to spooky."

She and Alloran are both gliding across the ground after the unidentifiable humans, since the memory they're in is tethered to one of them rather than a location. After not too long, the two humans turn into wolves and begin to run, not as if they are fleeing the scene but more as if they have ground to cover and have decided that four legs are more efficient than two. It's still hard to distinguish anything about them specifically, though one does seem to have a more noble bearing than the other.

"There's not much more to this memory," Stacia says. "So maybe whatever's keeping you here will bop you back out soon. Either that, or you're gonna get something else out of my head. I don't suppose you have a feeling as to which way it'll go?"

After reuniting with Sirius and talking things out, Remus somehow isn't surprised to find himself wandering into another memory when they've both fallen into an exhausted sleep.

He IS rather surprised to see what happens, of course. Nobody is quite ready for that. He looks back at the clearing, then shakes his head at the figures just walking away. The ones he's not entirely certain who they are. Magic, of course. Just different magic than he's used to. "I don't doubt that they deserved it, whatever you've just done."

"I'd certainly argue they did," Stacia says, peeling off of one of the two retreating figures. She brushes a hand back over her braids, which are twisted up around her head like a crown. "But then, of course I would. I'm the one who set all this up in the first place."

She leans against a tree, mouth set in a grim line. "The short version is that they killed two of my packmates, hurt me, hurt my friends, and terrorized my mother in her own home; and we were just the latest in a long, long line of people. Because they thought that their breeding made them better than us." She nods her head toward the remaining survivor. "He was executed within a week of this, for various crimes. The one who ran off, she's being...rehabilitated, I guess. Hard to say how much it'll take."

She sighs and looks a Remus, giving him a rueful smile. "Sorry, I know this is a lot of violence to have dumped on you all at once. I hope I haven't disappointed you."

Remus follows the retreating figures with his eyes for another moment before looking back to the clearing. Then to Stacia. "Good," is what he says, mouth set in a hard line. "I can't say it's the way I would have gone about it, but..." He shrugs slightly. "To be honest, it was always Sirius and James who were the ones who planned the more..." A pause, then, "Questionable pranks."

There's an ease with which he uses Sirius's name that's new, though. Something that might be as surprising as how blasé he is about the violence.

"I didn't think it would be the way I'd go about it either," Stacia says. "But I've been worrying since I shifted that I was a monster. It turns out that I can be, when and if I choose to be. It's less of a slippery slope than I feared."

She cocks her head as she looks at Remus. "You're remarkably calm about all of this. I would have thought that you'd be at least a little concerned about my ability and willingness to do all of this."

He glances over at her before folding his arms. "To be honest, I probably should be. But my world has been a year out of a war among wizards. I took part in a lot of it."

Which is why he's not actually bothered by what she did. He possibly would have done similar if it had been needed. "I still go out, occasionally, trying to find the..." Remus purses his lips. "I guess we're sort of our own version of Nazi hunters. Death Eater hunter, I suppose."

Stacia snorts. "'Death Eaters'? Wow. I'd say something about over-dramatic assholes, but then I'd have to answer for so many things on my side of things."

She calls herself a 'Shadow Lord', after all.

She glances at the woods around them which is starting to go fuzzy at the edges. "Unless we're planning on tagging along after me and Ace as we go to report back to the person who gave me an excuse, this is probably going to fade out pretty quick. Not sure what will happen after that."

"Hmm. That is a good question. If this was regular Occlumency, I would imagine we'd be shoved out of the memories entirely. However, that didn't happen earlier. It just moved on to another memory." First Sirius's, then his own. Which wasn't that surprising, considering what he'd been thinking about at the time. "I imagine something similar will happen here, though I'm not certain what will come up."

"Oh, that's reassuring."

Stacia's sarcasm says it isn't.

"No offense, I just don't particularly care to share whatever random memories float to the surface."

"I might..." Remus hums softly. "We might be able to direct where it goes. Purposefully think of a particular memory. Though I'm not sure..."

Things change around them. The room they find themselves in is round, four four-poster beds equidistant around the edges. There's not anything on the walls at the moment, but the curtains on the beds are a bright scarlet with gold fringe and cords.

The young man sitting on one of the beds is obviously Remus, though much younger. More nervous. The scars on his face are more prominent at this age, even though he'd had them for years at that point. He looks nervous and uncertain, jumping as the door pushes open and two other boys practically fall through, laughing brightly.

They could be brothers, really, with the same dark hair, though one is curly and the other just messy. The curly-haired one has grey eyes, similar enough that Stacia may recognize him as Sirius Black. The other boy has blue eyes, glasses, and an inquisitive look cast toward Remus, who reaches up to pull his hair down into some semblance of order himself.

They're followed in by a boy the same age, a bit smaller with what can best be called 'mousy' hair and an open smile.

"Oi! Lupin, right?" The boy with the glasses grins, walking right up to Remus and sticking his hand out. "We saw you at the welcoming banquet, but didn't see you sneak out. But, seeing as we're all going to be living together for the next few years, should probably introduce ourselves. James Potter."

Remus blinks, taking the offered hand as the last boy in pipes in with, "I'm Peter. Peter Pettigrew."

The blinking gets more owlish from Remus as James pumps his hand before turning to the last member of the room. "And that utter prat over there, already stealing my blankets, is Sirius Black..."

"Of the most noble and ancient House of Black," both James and Sirius intone, as seriously as they can at age eleven before they both start laughing.

Remus obviously has no idea what to make of it all, so he takes a steadying breath. "Lupin, yes. Remus Lupin." He nods to each of the other three boys, who would one day be as close as family. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Stacia had been shuffling through her memories, trying to figure out one she wouldn't mind sharing, but it seemed that Remus had something in mind.

Little Remus looks so nervous that her fingers itch to ruffle his hair and assure him that things are going to be okay. Then the other three boys pile into the room, and she gets her first look at James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. Though it's super-weird seeing Sirius looking all happy and pre-pubescent and not like a haunted skeleton.

"Cute kids," she says instead, shooting a sidelong look at Remus to try and gauge why he'd picked this memory.

The dorms were safe enough, really. The memory gets hazy, mixed up with other days spent reading and working in the room, mostly just happy.

Remus laughs softly and shakes his head. "We were a bunch of little arseholes, really. But they were the first real friends I ever had."

His tone is more wistful than anything else, though.

"Well," Stacia says, "who isn't as a teenager?"

She'd been expecting a little bitterness, considering his current relationship with Sirius. He doesn't seem to be casting dark looks at the boy who flits and fades in an out around the room, though. And he had picked these memories...

"Doesn't sound like you have any regrets about it."

"Oh, there are regrets. Just...not the ones I expected, now."

He reaches up, brushing his hand back through his hair before looking over at Stacia. "The memory of yours that we both saw. That was true, right? To the best that you can remember? Some of the small details might have been missing, but the broad strokes were all correct?"

Remus had taken it as writ that Sirius's memories were correct, because what they'd seen of his own memories were full and correct. But what if he'd been wrong?

Stacia cocks her head slightly, a serious expression on her face.

"Yeah, that's accurate to my memories," she says. "If I could have altered it, I probably wouldn't have made you watch. I wouldn't say that I'm ashamed of what I did there, but it's not exactly something I want to shove in everyone's faces. Why do you ask?"

Remus makes a helpless gesture to the room around them. "I needed to be certain. That whatever this is is showing us the whole truth, as well as we can remember it."

He watches Sirius and James pantomiming a sword fight before Sirius clutches his chest dramatically, staggering over to fall over the end of the young Remus's bed.

"This...whatever is causing this. It showed me the night that Sirius went to take the Fidelus Charm. Except...except that it wasn't him taking it. It never had been. He talked James and Lily into using Peter for their own safety because everybody expected Sirius to be their Secret Keeper."

"Oh, I see," Stacia says. "So you're double-checking to make sure that what you saw in his memory was accurate. Well, unless we haul out one of my more traumatic memories where I blacked out part way through, I can't tell you if these memories show the truth and nothing but the truth. But I've been lead to understand that Animagus forms are a somewhat symbolic representation of the soul, and you've got a dog and a rat."

She leans against the wall and raises her eyebrows at Remus. She seems remarkably unsurprised by his revelation, doesn't she?

"Rat symbology isn't necessarily terrible." It has the feeling of something rote, perhaps. But that has more to do with deflecting teasing about Peter's Animagus form. "Though, yes, I do understand what you mean. I just..." Remus waves his hand at the bed, where his younger self is looking up from his book to smile at the silliness of his friends. "I wasn't even there, Stacia. I was on a mission to France. The entire Order was suspicious of me, so being away felt like a welcome relief. By the time I got back to England, everything was over. Two of my friends were dead and one was in wizarding prison and...Everybody was so certain."

"I'm actually pretty fond of rats in general," Stacia agrees. "They share snacks and help each other out, and they absolutely adored one of my packmates."

She grimaces sympathetically. "Yeah, it really sucks that everyone was suspicious of you, and it's certainly not your fault for believing what people told you. You were in pain, and honestly it was a really good fake-out on Sirius' part. But did any of the other people you trusted know that Sirius has performed illegal magic that proved loyalty was one of his defining traits?"

"Loyalty, unfortunately, can backfire. Our House at Hogwarts was known for loyalty, too. But there are a lot of places one can put their loyalty. And, unfortunately, his family are well known blood purists." Remus scratches the back of his head with a sigh. "It was easy enough for me to convince myself that that loyalty was given to He-Who..." A pause, then he shakes his head. "Voldemort."

The wizard had been gone for a year back home. But it was probably better not to think about him too much. Not with the Stuff out there.

"But no. Becoming an Animagus and not registering the fact is frowned upon. Anybody finding out that Sirius was one would mean him going to Azkaban." Which...was what had happened in the end, anyway. "I'm not saying that the plan was a bad one. It was good, even if it would normally have meant him being killed."

"There are worse things to die for than to protect your friends," Stacia says. She sighs. "And in the interests of full-disclosure, I cornered him one night and got his side of the story already. No offense, but I think your justice system needs an overhaul."

Invasion!

Nothing To See Here (cw: violence, blood, gore)

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