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)
goneawayworld2020-08-08 01:55 am
goneawaymod) wrote in goneawayworld2020-08-08 01:55 am
Entry tags:
- #memshare,
- #rig logs,
- adora,
- alloran semitur-corass,
- bunnymund,
- catra,
- dan sagittarius,
- guts,
- kevin armstrong,
- nora valkyrie,
- remy lebeau,
- rogue,
- ronald mcdonald,
- ronan lynch,
- sam winchester,
- saturday,
- setsuna higashi,
- stacia novik,
- tenten,
- ✘ aleifr bjornsson,
- ✘ remus lupin,
- ✘ sirius black,
- ✘ steven universe
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.]]
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.]]
no subject
"What are you doing here?"
When she turns around, she'll see ... a second version of the man lying on the furs in front of her standing behind her - just dressed and significantly angrier looking.
no subject
(They don't seem to be able to see her or the angry version of the viking, but she's not taking any chances.)
"I have no idea," she says quickly, holding up her hands defensively. "I didn't come here on purpose, I have no idea how I'm here, and I'd like to not be here almost as much as you'd like me to not be here. I am very, very sorry, please point me to the exit and I'll never speak of this to anyone."
That should cover all the important bits.
no subject
"I've seen you before," Aleifr says, "on Piper 90."
He doubts they've spoken two words to each other before now, but he recognizes her face.
no subject
"Yes," she agrees. "Hi. We haven't really talked? I'm Stacia. And I'm really sorry about being here, I can tell it's a private moment But I genuinely have no idea how I got here."
no subject
"Aleifr." He gruffly introduces himself. "I believe you. And you're right. It is private. When we're back, I have every intention of finding out what caused this."
And what fool had the gall to use some magic to root around in his head.
no subject
"It's probably the Stuff," Stacia says. "If the Jorg could get inside our heads, I don't think they'd send us to spy on each other. But we can discuss that outside the tent! Door? Or do you think we can pass through the wall?"
no subject
As to how to get out, he looks around. The walls look solid as they ever have, but he's no gothi. He wouldn't know anything about walking through someone's mind or whatever the rules are. The door is probably their best bet, but before he can say as much, his eyes settle on his past self and the red-haired woman laying next to him.
He sees her stir. She rolls over and sees his past self looking at her, smiling warmly, and a little flush of red comes to her cheeks. She grins and gives him a playful shove.
He knows what day this is, now. And it makes his heart ache.
no subject
"'Scuse me," she murmurs, trying to do so as quickly as possible. Awkward.
no subject
"Sorry." He grunts, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "This day was ... important."
Aleifr turns towards the door. "The door makes sense. Can't think of what else might serve as an exit."
no subject
But mostly, she wants to get out of here before she learns anything more about how Aleifr looks naked. Fortunately, reaching the door isn't a problem anymore. Yay, door!
no subject
His voice trails back as he looks back one more time. At everything that he called home before he was dragged away from it. He hangs his head for a moment.
"I asked her to marry me a few hours from now."
His voice is soft. Tinged with the melancholy he feels right now in a a display of emotion that, while subtle, is more than most will see from him.
He doesn't say anything else. He turns towards the door, and walks.
no subject
"...Did she say yes?" she adds, because she's incurably nosy. Even as she opens the door to let the two of them out into whatever's outside.
no subject
A small smile - the barest hint of one - plays about his lips, and one of his tree trunk arms crosses over his body to rub at the other. He has tattoos on both arms. Lettering in some unfamiliar, runic script.
"We married when the--"
He stops as he opens the flap to the tent and steps outside.
Instead of open air, they emerge into the interior of another tent - a far larger one, thick with the smoke and the scent of roasting meat. Clusters of tribesmen clothed in furs and leather sit in ragged groups, drinking and conversing loudly.
They all seem just as oblivious to Aleifr and Stacia's presence as the previous echoes had been. They're far too busy celebrating something.
Aleifr isn't looking at any of them. The moment his eyes fall on a tall, blonde-haired boy sitting near one of the cookfires, with a red-haired girl a year or two younger than he is seated next to him, none of the rest matters.
no subject
It would be cuter if he hadn't stopped mid-exit, but wiggling around big dudes blocking her path is one of Stacia's many skills. She puts it to use, but--
"...Huh, that's not outside." She looks up at Aleifr, the follows his gaze to the two kids. A blond boy and a redheaded girl, where ever has she seen that before?
"So, I'm guessing escaping an overly-personal moment isn't going to be as easy as I hoped," she says, instead of boy, puberty hit you like a mack truck.
(He wouldn't know what a mack truck is, anyway.)
no subject
The irritation creeps back into his voice just a bit. He feels like his mind is being played with.
"The first battle I ever fought in. This was the feast after it."
The Aleifr seated across the room looks perhaps fifteen or sixteen at first glance, but the longer you look at him the clearer it becomes that he looks older than he is. Especially since the girl seated next to him looks to be maybe twelve or thirteen at most.
no subject
"That's you and your wife again, huh?" she asks, gesturing at the blond and the redhead. "I'm glad she was there for you, first battles are rough and the aftermath isn't much better."
She'd comment on his youth, but she doesn't know how young is young to his people. He's too young by the standards of the society in which she was raised, but he's certainly within the window in which most Garou have their First Change.
no subject
The younger Aleifr certainly looks worse for wear. Not physically -- he was barely touched. His eyes are distant, though. He's lost in thought up until Aila nudges him as a tall, dark-haired woman approaches him and kneels down in front of where he sits, briefly conversing with him before handing him a drinking horn full of some amber liquid.
no subject
"And there's the booze," Stacia says wryly, nodding toward the drinking horn. The thing she's learned about those is that you can't put them down until they're empty -- no flat surface on the bottom to hold them upright. "Another important part of the after-battle recovery party. What is it, mead?"
She'll just...talk with the grown-up version of the guy instead of poking around his memory. That's probably the best course of action.
no subject
There's a brief flicker of a fond smile on his face.
"Damn good stuff, too."
no subject
"Nice," Stacia says. "Maybe I should suggest my sister learn how." She frowns. "But then again, I'd probably just get a lecture about the effects of under-aged drinking, never mind that I can walk off anything that isn't actually magical."
no subject
"That a fact?"
no subject
Stacia grins up at him.
"It is absolutely a fact," she says. "Don't get me wrong, I probably can't put too much away before I have to shift; but give me fine, ten minutes and I'm good to go another few rounds."