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- arknights: midnight,
- cobra kai: daniel larusso,
- ffxiv: elidibus,
- ffxiv: emet-selch,
- ffxiv: hythlodaeus,
- fgo: altria caster,
- genshin impact: alhaitham,
- genshin impact: kaveh,
- genshin impact: lyney,
- genshin impact: wanderer,
- library of ruina: angela,
- library of ruina: netzach,
- library of ruina: yesod,
- limbus company: don quixote,
- limbus company: hong lu
MONOLOGUE WITH THE MOON [open player event]
WHAT: You, your truths, masks to wear, and places to escape.
WHERE: All over and no where.
WHEN: 1/6/2024.
WARNINGS: Some uncomfortable visuals, but nothing blatant. Please add warnings in your subject lines as needed.
NOTES: Original plotting post here if you need to refer to it.
JUST ANOTHER DAY.
Just like any other. You follow your routine, however it may be. Mundane or not, thrilling or not, eventually there is the inevitability: you open a door, as you always have. Only, where it leads to is not what you expect at all. The door behind you is now closed, locked, and oddly indestructible; the path before you is dark and dismal, narrow, walls lined with ornamental golden doors.
Where could they possibly go?
VISUALS:
JUST ANOTHER MASK.
The door that you decide upon brings you a room, if it can be called that. Like the hallway before, it feels cramped and too narrow, too dark and dingy. Largely it is utterly unremarkable, save for a particularly specific feature: there are shelves and baskets full of masks. Not just any masks, of course, but of faces you know all too well. They bear the faces of your fellow citizens of the city, the detail impressive and uncomfortably uncanny.
Should you put on one of the masks, you will find yourself in one of two situations: either you and the person whose mask you wear end up sharing thoughts, or you hear the thoughts of the person whose mask you wear. It is possible to take these masks with you, but know after all is said and done the strange power that comes with these masks bear will fade.
VISUALS:
JUST ANOTHER MEMORY.
We all have parts of ourself we want to forget, to hide away from. Maybe a mistake we made, a cruel experience you didn't deserve -- or perhaps, something cruel by your hand? Remembering your first kill, a bad break-up, or an unfortunate incident with a seesaw? Either way, the truth of you will be laid bare before others, in some capacity. This is your room, or this is someone else's. Either way, it is here, and the curtains are drawn for the play.
This room is entirely catered to a character's memory, be it yours or somebody else's. It can be any unpleasant memory, because really why would anything nice ever happen right now? The room can function however feels most appropriate to you. Either the scene can be played like a movie projected on a screen, or it can be participated in as if you were really there. It can be as accurate as possible, or it can be as twisted by your character's fears and anxieties as much as you feel is appropriate. Bear in mind the term "room" is used in the loosest sense possible, as really this area does not abide by any laws of physics or realism, after all.
VISUALS:
JUST ANOTHER ROOM.
When a person dreams or has a nightmare, how rarely it ever seems to make sense. Memories, after all, can be skewed by time and reflection; when we sleep, the experiences our minds come up with can be average to terrifying. And thus, that is what you can make of this room: a living nightmare of all your insecurities, and no door dares open so easily for you. How can you hope to escape from yourself?
Welcome to the worst escape room, where you need to figure out how to free yourself from what binds you. Think of it less as a memory and more as everything that makes you uncomfortable and your skin crawl boarding you inside, and you need to find a way out. Maybe you need to find some keys, or a solve a series of puzzles. Hopefully the person stuck with you can lend a hand?
VISUALS:
JUST ANOTHER DOOR CLOSING.
Like all things, it ends, whatever has brought on this nightmare. But you will always wake from your dreams, won't you? And eventually, that next door brings you back to where you've been staying in the City. As good as any home? Perhaps your bonds of friendship and love have increased as a result...
Or are you the kind of person to end up crushed by what has already been haunting you like an abandoned house?
midnight | arknights | potential for blood, terminal illness, violence and familial abuse
iv.
but shadows cover the yard. kaveh knows it well, the slow, cold creep of claustrophobia even where one can see the sky. your heart can make walls out of doorways. the backpack weighs like a lifetime. kaveh looks up, then to the windows, and the small garden shed.
first, of course, he goes to the shed. what manner of lock is on its door, and how high is it? high enough to get over the wall? ]
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i.
it's unsettling, that's for certain. netzach's brow furrows as he looks over the masks, a hand lifting as if to reach out and touch one, then pulling back.]
You know, I almost feel like I should be more impressed than creeped out...
[the detail really is something else.]
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ii.
It's strange to see that sort of expression on this particular face. The other person, taunting Midnight, is a stranger.
It may be a fabricated memory, Yesod thinks, like Netzach made to kill Carmen. If nothing is altered by this space, it should unfold and end as such encounters did in the mall, but for now, he can't determine whether this is only a memory of Midnight himself back then, either, or whether it would be best to interrupt the scene before it finishes. ]
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iii.
The smell is a familiar accompaniment to Altria's common nightmares. So, too, is that sort of wet cough that signifies a grievous wound.]
M-Midnight--!
[--but there's nothing she can do about it, about this. There's nothing she can do but watch, because this isn't her experience. She isn't here, not really--but Midnight is, suffering and (is he...dying?)--she watches, with wide eyes, unable to look away. She can't look away. This isn't her memory to know, but how could she avert her gaze from the suffering of someone so kind to her?
... Something isn't right about that body he turns over. What are...]
... Stones...? [She comes closer, as much as the memory allows, eyes wide.]
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i.
Altria's mask had shown him that she could see lies. That perhaps other masks might reveal people's abilities is a thought in the back of his mind that serves as additional fuel for his curiosity, so after a moment of hesitation, he holds Midnight's mask in front of his face, just an inch away, and cautiously taps it against his face, as if that would somehow lessen the incoming onslaught of thoughts and emotions. ]
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memory prompt wildcard as discussed!
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@justscribing
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Alhaitham | Genshin Impact | CWs listed below as relevant
PSYCHE ROOM: INVESTIGATIONS + QUESTIONS
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PSYCHE ROOM: CW: IMPLIED HOUSE FIRE, LOSS OF CONTROL
closed to alhaitham. sup!!
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ota!! someone please help her
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sorry this wasn't the help you wanted or needed...
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closed to Ghost!
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MASKS & MEMORIES
for Netzach and Yesod
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for Midnight
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for Kaveh
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thancred waters | ffxiv | see below for content warnings
[You are standing in an enclosed room with metal floors and no exterior windows. Flashing red lights dot the periphery of your vision; in your ears rings the sound of warning klaxons, bellowing with the rhythm of a heartbeat. The more you become aware of your surroundings, the more you begin to realize a few things:
• You are very far from home. So far from home as to be about the furthest it's possible to get from it, really. No one in their right mind would ever travel so far from home, and certainly not in a manner like this, but here you are. There was another option you might've chosen, other than this. It would have been safer, and reasoned, and sensible, and you would never have forgiven yourself.
• You are not alone. Though you can't quite make out any of their faces, you know that the people with you are ones you care about more than anything in the world. You have been through much and more together, time after time after time. These are the people you would die for.
• You are probably going to die for them.
→ THERE IS A DARK SHADOW AMONG YOU...
There is a dark shadow among you — there and there and there, and you can't quite tell if there are countless of those shadows spawning more all the while, or if there's only one that's just figured out how to be in every place at once — and it greets you pleasantly. It reminds you that you are an aberration struggling against inevitability. That any effort you put towards anything will eventually be snuffed out by the ravages of time. That any happiness you might find is fleeting, and will inevitably be lost. That however you might think you control whatever outcome you seek, ultimately, it's really all pointless.And since it's pointless, wouldn't it be better to just stop struggling? In fact, why don't you let this dark, kindly shadow help you with that? It's very good at helping with this part.
A sensation grips you, suddenly, and you know that it's your imminent death, though you'd be hard-pressed to describe just how it is that you're dying. It's not that you're choking or burning or being torn limb from limb. It's as though your own very essence, the thing that comprises you, the thing you are, is being smothered by something you aren't, and that invasive presence is stronger than you. It pours inside you and laughs at your helpnessness and wears a glowing red mask.
Out of the corner of your eye, one of your friends is moving. Resisting, however inevitable it might be. He takes one step, though it clearly pains him; he takes another, and nearly falls from how hard he has to fight to even advance that one step at all.
And you realize, abruptly, in the moment before your whole world goes dark, that your friend wants you to survive.
...OR IS THERE?
When you open your eyes again, you're alone. The spaceship is gone and your friends are nowhere to be found, but there's some sort of nondescript ground beneath your feet and there's sufficient air to breathe. The problem is just that you're alone — or at least, you are for the moment. You can see something red and glowing off in the distance, hovering high in the air like a malicious beacon. And it occurs to you, though you don't quite know why, that you're here to play a game.
Two people have made a wager about you, about what you want. Which one will you prove right?]
[OOC NOTES: Welcome to a "choose your own adventure" prompt that is equal parts memory and escape room! It's essentially modeled after the Ultima Thule zone in Endwalker, wherein characters are introduced to a setting or circumstance that has been rendered stagnant with hopelessness and despair, and they have to confront the rationale of despair and overcome it in order to escape it.
What that means for characters tagging in is:
OUT OF CHARACTER, this is an opportunity to have a malicious NPC presence hassle your character about Oh No, That Thing Your Character Is Sensitive About™, and give them an opportunity to stand up to it! I'll be piloting the NPC in question, so please feel free to PM or contact me with the subject you'd like to come up (and whether your character is going to beat it or not), and I'll Hannibal Lecture them throughout the course of the adventure.
Hopefully this will be a good time for everybody — please feel free to hit me up with any questions!]
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instead there's ground beneath him, gritty and hard-packed and leached of color, like overdried clay or old bones. his fingers dig into it, almost like an instinct to remind himself that there's something solid at his feet, and then with gritted teeth and a harshly drawn breath Reno forces himself standing again.
the weight of it is almost crushing. for a long moment it's hard to even think about what it is—Reno's mind seems to move as if through a fog, hazy and indistinct. it's despair, he realizes. it's the desire to lay right back down on that leached-bone earth and let himself die.
but Reno is no stranger to wanting to die, and he's never let the desire win before. ]
Now where the fuck is this supposed to be.
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Because clearly this is the best way for them to not-meet
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fearne calloway ♡ critical role
( the opening scene, the setup for failure. )
( her stage is an abandoned apartment, furniture pushed up against walls with the blinds drawn. one not too far from where she's currently housed, one she disappears to for hours on end. among all the lots, it might be hard to find. but not any who might know her.
its centerpiece a large window, now drawn shut with drapes, high on a building that overlooks the crawling city below. far more effort than worth climbing to, but it means it less likely people will find her with this book. she didn't finish until the few days prior, and has spent her time preparing for the ritual ahead since.
a sizable circle is carved into the wooden flooring, filled in with her blood. any other medium would've done just as well, but considering her desire to link this realm with that of the fey, she figured it wouldn't harm it to use something of that plane as part of the anchor. it has to work, it has to be stable, and it has to stay long enough to usher in those she could spirit away. it just has to.
but the creation of a gate is the work of the more powerful and the more knowledgeable - of either which she is not. )
— i.
— ii.
closed, to argalia, daan and vergilius.
i
He walks in the broad of the sunlight with undeserved confidence. He pursues the only other figure to see. His steps carry him faster than hers, closer and closer to line up with her side.]
You'll bleed out a dangerous amount if you leave your arm unattended. [It's simply fact. Given her staggered demeanor, she may well have already.]
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i.
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ii, time for the worst double date in history
honestly, even if it was dinner it'd go about the same lbr
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i
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DON QUIXOTE | LIMBUS COMPANY | see below for warnings
cw: desc of festering wounds, self-harm
ii. just another room
cw: claustrophobia, potential for self-harm, suffocation, and torture
i.
kaveh is in the room; kaveh isn't in the room. it's difficult to describe, just where kaveh is, because that's the problem with matters of the heart: you never know where you stand, not quite. but the storybook opens before kaveh's eyes, and kaveh looks unto a scene that he has not yet quite seen before. don, standing there, gaping holes in her.
she is bleeding.
it's instinct for kaveh to step forward, panic rising like an untenable tide. don is bleeding. the scent of blood is heady iron as kaveh reaches with his hand for that rusted blade, ]
Don! You're covered in wounds! Stop that!
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ii
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i
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i
you make me sick
maybe u should think next time huh maybe u should remember who ur dealing w
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i. (:
kill m
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ii
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ii.
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ii hey girl hey
hey girl hey
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Wanderer | Genshin Impact
ii. psyche room
iii. memories
Closed to Kaveh
He isn't the only one in the room. Sitting next to the bed is a young girl, familiar to anyone who calls Sumeru their home: the Dendro Archon. And across the room, leaning against the wall is the Wanderer Kaveh has slowly come to know intimately. The man raises his head slightly to lock eyes with Kaveh, and looks at the scene before them.
He knows exactly when this is: one of the most emotionally charged moments of his recent years. And he's not looking forward to finding out what Kaveh's reaction is. Unfortunately, like most things in the City, he has no choice but to have his past bared openly for others to see. ]
You better not say anything about pretending you never saw this. Just take this chance for the opportunity that it is.
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Closed to Alhaitham
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Closed to Tighnari and Cyno
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Closed to Altria
1/2
2/2
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Closed to Lyney
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ii. hi im here
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Altria Caster | Fate/Grand Order
[Altria's mask sits ever-so-innocently on the shelf, ripe for the picking. She has not yet figured out what these are, or found it to remove it. Regardless of the reason, should you put it on--
The world shifts, just a little. It is as though there is a bit of a haze, an overlay to everything you see. And that, it soon becomes clear enough, is because you are able to now see lies--and not just lies, but the intentions of the people around you. Their true feelings, their actual thoughts behind the words they say. It is laid bare, in such a way that it feels almost choking.
Or perhaps those are Altria's feelings--dismal, tired, overwhelmed, and worn down, even as she pokes her way into the room with the same smile she always wears.
ooc note: Altria's mask will give the wearer the Fae Eyes ability, which allows them to see through all sorts of lies. Please ask permission for your fellow players, but otherwise, go nuts with it!]
ii. the Memshare Prompt
[I've got memories written up over here if any suit your fancy! Feel free to also request a specific memory/mood/emotion/vibe/etc and I will come up with one for you. Please mind the cws listed on the memory comment headers!
Sorry to any characters who stumble into here, honestly.]
iii. psyche room - sword forging
(ooc & notes: Altria's psyche room has a very simple goal: forge a sword! It doesn't matter if your character does or does not know how to forge a sword; they will know instinctively that it will be forged via their memories.
They won't lose anything through this process, but different memories will create a different sword.
Characters are welcome to enter the psyche room together and forge the sword together, or they can take it on solo. Poking around the forge can lead to discoveries about Altria, so I will hop into threads to add flavor text and info as need be.
It'd be a big help if you bold things characters are looking at/things you would like me to respond to! Likewise, let me know/toss me a note in your tags when characters are done deciding which memories they are using to forge their sword. Thanks! ♥)
--
[Your character finds themselves in a forge. It's surprisingly homey, despite its brick walls and cobblestone flooring; perhaps it is the warmth of the fire in the forge itself, or perhaps it is the warmth that the owner of this psyche has for smiths and forges bleeding through.
Tools, well-worn but clearly well taken care of, line the walls and the workshop.
There is a large work desk with plans, designs and papers scattered all across it, as well as a few baubles. Light streams in through the windows, though the door to the outside is closed.
Well? You've got a sword to forge, don't you?]
wildcard, etc
[This is so long i'm sorry, please feel free to pm me with any questions, for specific prompts, or anything like that! My arms are wide open!]
iii.
... or perhaps he did. he is look at the tools along the lines of the walls and workshop. he is drawn first to the hammer. kaveh reaches for it, and then, knowing that he is in another person's world, nearly fliches back. ]
... Um. [ ... kaveh looks up at the ceiling. he says: ] This is a bit strange and all, but - if I have permission to go poking around at these tools... can you perhaps send some kind of sign? Or a word from on high, or a flashing light of some kind? I'm not picky, I just want to make sure I'm not doing anything I shouldn't be, or you don't want me to.
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iii
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i.
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ii (first one from your link)
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ii; the fourth memory
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ii
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ii.
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Shinjiro Aragaki | Persona 3 | OTA
ii. just another memory
option a: october 4th, 2007 ( cw: blood, death )
option b: October 4th, 2009 ( cw: blood, death, reference to substance abuse & suicidal implications in the link )
iii. just another room
just another memory, option a!
Wherever this is though, he has no choice but to wander about to find the exit. If this is like all the other times he's been transported somewhere through a door, then this is someone's memory. He strolls through the streets of Iwatodai leisurely, noting how much more busy this place looks compared to the city. It's as if the city had its identity stripped away from it, compared to this place.
His meandering doesn't continue for much longer though. He turns the corner to a residential street and finds himself meeting another man when it happens. The world freezes as the sky turns a sickly green and the floor becomes blood. He looks around in bewilderment as the world changes around him, and a tragedy begins to unfold. ]
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just another memory, option bbbbbbb!!
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daan | fear & hunger
I. just another memory.
a. run little rabbit run | cw: parental neglect, implied csa
[A boy of thirteen is running through the woods frantically, gasping for air. Clearly underweight, he always has been, never quite been able to put on the necessary weight because of circumstances of life. Clothes are too big, belonging to full grown men, but he wears it all the same anyway; feet are bare, dirty, fresh cuts from the woods bleeding through.
He stops finally at the edge of a slowly moving river. Daan -- or Daniël, his parents could never decide which name it was -- reaches down and furiously scrubs his face, his breath hitching. Somewhere, back through the woods and into the field, the other Sylvian followers continue their brand of worship, their revelry and communing with the Goddess of Love.
Daan, a low, jovial voice purrs.
Daan jerks back and looks down at the water, seeing the reflection of a familiar face. The cat, with his wide grin and fierce yellow eyes. Whirling around, the boy looks behind himself, but nothing is there.
Well. Nothing, but you, anyway. Daan spots you and jerks back, scrambling away, reacting in instict and memory.
After all, there is no mercy here. There is no mercy anywhere.]
I-I don't have anything... [His eyes are wide, fearful, pleading to be left unharmed.]
b. war never changes | cw: dead bodies, self-mutilation, eye trauma/gore
[The war is over. Too long he'd spent out there, and things he'd witnessed better left unsaid, but finally he returns home.
The setting is thus: Daan, still with both eyes, is hurrying up toward an exquisite, old manor. He's shoving the doors open -- they shouldn't be unlocked, why are they unlocked, where are the maids and butlers -- and stumbling inside a dark, empty building.]
Elise?
[Fear clutches him. The letters had stopped, but he had hoped it simply meant that they were lost. But there is no response, not even from the baron. Where could they be? So, he scours, starting from the top, calling for his wife, hoping to find some revelation. The bedrooms are empty, dusty, how long since they had been touched? Everywhere else is like that too. How long has it been like this?
Eventually, he makes his way to the bricked basement hesitantly, an oil lantern in his hand to light the way. A sigil has been made into the stonework, one he does not know. Next to the sigil is the corpse of Baron Eihner von Dutch, that much is easy to determine. On top of the sigil are the remains of his beloved Elise, body pale and cold, black hair spread out around her like a halo. Daan almost drops the lantern, managing to set it down before he approaches, trembling.]
Elise-- Elise!
[His fingers touch her face. Too cold, her eyes staring at nothing. The blood on the floor is dry, probably from weeks ago. Logically, he knows all this, and yet... and yet. He must try, he will try, anything to bring her back. There is no time to spare.
Steeling himself, Daan removes his scalpel from his waistcoat. What can he sacrifice? What can he afford to lose?
The scalpel comes up, pristine and shining in the lantern light. He brings it up with a steady hand, finding himself staring down at the blade with his left eye, wide and uncertain for a brief second... until he finds his resolve.]
Vitruvia. Architect of the Human Body. I beg of you.
[For once, would the gods give him anything? Perhaps with the right sacrifice.
For a moment, the scene abruptly changes. It's Daan in the Haunted House from a few months ago, Vergilius lying dead on the floor. The doctor unwavering as he brings a kitchen knife to his arm, to give sacrifice, hoping against all hope it is enough--
The scene changes back to Daan in the manor's basement, blood running down his face, body trembling. The eye in his hand disintegrates, sacrificed pointlessly. It's been too long, and no amount of magic can piece her back together. Despite the pain in his head, his face, his socket, Daan collapses at her side, weeping as he clutches her cold hand.]
Elise, darling... come back to me. Please.
c. magna-medicinal | cw: violence, dismemberment, body horror, some nudity
[It's the middle of a fight in what appears to be a rundown school of sorts.
A woman in overalls is currently using what looks to be a buzzsaw-like weapon that's been constructed by spare parts in order to fend off against one of the creatures attacking her. She barely dodges out of the way of its serrated club, while the other attacker is rushing at another woman, who sadly is not fast enough. The beak comes down, and without so much as a sound from the woman in the bomber jacket, her head is pecked off of her shoulders.
The body slumps to the ground. Daan is grimacing.]
Levi, keep him busy! I'll get Karin!
[A shellshocked looking young man jerks, appearing confused at the words, then nods stiffly as he takes aim with a rifle, shooting at the creature and holding it off.
Daan, for his part, inhales and steels himself as he removes a bone saw from his satchel. He grimaces; not even really any time to use a tourniquet right now, not in the middle of a fight. So, he just gets to work.
Performing the service of removing limbs on the battlefield as a doctor during a brutal war is one thing. It is utterly another to do it to yourself, Daan quickly finds out. It is his intense focus that probably keeps him from screaming, but he's bitten his lip hard enough to make it bleed as he swiftly saws through his right arm. The blade is quick with its work, his limb dropping with a thud to the floor before it begins to disintegrate away, claimed by the god he invokes.
This time, it works. Magna-medicinal brings Karin back, whole and with her head reformed. She gasps, sitting up abruptly. Wh-what the hell--?!]
I'm afraid we're gonna have to talk about that later. [Daan's voice is trembling as he struggles to remain conscious, blood pouring out from where he'd cut off his arm.] Let's just deal with these guys first, hm?
d. to stitches | cw: death, body horror
[Prehevil has many horrors to share. It's probably fortunate that it does not provide every sliver of Daan's experiences for all to view, but enough. This one is no different. In the bowels of one of the bunkers, it is another fight. This time, the enemy is a woman covered in stitches, holding a sewing needle in her hand. Three other people other than Daan are present -- a girl tied up in thread, a woman in overalls trying to free her, and a young man bleeding on the floor.
It leaves Daan to his own devices, to make a choice. The unusual woman covered in stitches was wounded enough that it would only take a bit more to bring her down, and he was in a good position to do so.
So he goes in, waiting for the perfect moment before he's reaching up, sliding his scalpel for a clean cut across her throat. The woman gurgles, stumbling forward, clutching her neck as blood pours out. Soon enough, she collapses, trying to speak through her sewn lips before eventually she simply stops moving.
The scene skips ahead somewhat; the young soldier has been patched up, and the rest of them are gazing down at the corpse.
The woman in overalls glances at the doctor. Daan, can you examine her? Maybe she has weaknesses similar to that lunatic following us in the streets.]
Hmm, seems sensible. Well, let's have a look, huh?
[Daan crouches down and starts to examine the body thoughtfully.] This person looks to have a rather normal female body. A little bit more muscular than usual perhaps, but nothing out of ordinary. She has sewn her mouth partly shut and there appears to be more sewn cuts scattered around her body. Their purpose is unknown to me, but they do distort her face beyond recognition...
[He trails off, then abruptly looks absolutely horrified as a realization settles onto his face. The woman in overalls frowns and approaches. Daan? What's wrong?
A sharp inhale, and Daan turns away abruptly.] ...Let's just go. I really need fresh air.
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II. just another room.
ii. maybe eventually with some flavour of i??? listen i don't make the rules...
we can do what we want, who will arrest us
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netzach | library of ruina
[if you happen to try on netzach's mask, the thoughts and feelings you pick up from him are likely to vary; give me a rough time of day, and i'll work up something for it just so i can do different starters for anyone who tags! if you want a particular flavor of thoughts let me know.]
ii. memories; cws noted in the link
[alternately, you might find yourself in the middle of one of netzach's memories; whichever one you end up in, there's another netzach there with you. the current netzach-- the 'real' one, by most estimations, though they're both real enough in one way or another.
he startles slightly on realizing he isn't alone here, then exhales a resigned-sounding sigh. there's no attempt made at interrupting whatever is playing out.]
Everything really does get dragged out eventually, huh...
[netzach will be a little more visibly uncomfortable with any of his older memories, the ones from the l corp facility; his posture is more tense there, hands shoved in his jacket pockets.]
iii. rooms; cws: memory loss, identity loss, monsters, potential violence & death of others, drug/alcohol use, depression;
welcome to the facility. (this one got long)
[when you enter this room-- you aren't yourself for long. you blink, opening your eyes-
well, no. your eye. every sephirah is built the same, with a singular eye in their mechanical body. that's exactly what you are: mechanical, an ai created for this facility. (that thought prompts a vague feeling of wrongness, though it's decidedly brief. don't you remember being somewhere else-? doing something else...? no, you must have imagined it. you're not sure why you were created with an imagination. not sure why you were created with the capacity to feel.)
you're one of the department heads within the main branch of lobotomy corporation, an energy production facility built underground. you've always been here-- never been outside, never seen the sun, though you know enough of the city above and around you. your employees are tasked to work with abnormalities, monstrous creatures that kill more often than they prove beneficial to the facility, and it's common to see at least one of them lose their life on any given day. maybe they failed to work with an abnormality correctly. maybe one escaped (the breach alarms are so common you react to them out of reflex more than anything, now) and killed them before it was suppressed and contained once more. maybe they simply lost their mind. the manager's assistant ai, angela, reminds you and the facility manager every so often that this is nothing to be concerned with: they're expendable, after all, and the quota is more important than preserving a single life. you've seen many of them give their lives for their thankless work, and ordered some of them to their deaths yourself. if you try to keep them alive, it's rarely successful.
the other day, your team worked with netzach's safety team on a joint suppression operation. he was meant to finish his half of the report by now; you haven't seen it. you're most likely going to have to go shake him out of whatever kind of stupor he's in today.
((any characters entering this room will find themselves memlossed! their personalities will still be the same at the core, but they only remember being ais for the facility at first, with memories returning along the way... though they will feel more like remembering someone else's life.
to make it easier, they will have been given one of the following names and assignments-- while these do belong to existing characters in lobcorp this will be au'ed as if your character was the one given that name and assignment. they won't be taking on the previous sephirah's personality or memories, just ignore that the one you're replacing existed. (sorry to chesed/yesod specifically.)
malkuth, in charge of control; yesod, information; hod, training; tiphereth, central command; gebura, discipline; chesed, welfare. hokma and binah are outliers and will not be counted.
pick whichever team you like the sound of! i will be doing my best to make things make sense for the canonblind as we go but please feel free to ask questions.))]
iii.
today, kaveh's battered shell makes its way to where netzach must still be. it is harder and harder to find netzach not replete on enkaphalin. it's not as though kaveh doesn't understand the impetus. he is still stained with blood as he politely knocks on the frame of the door leading to netzach's room, before stepping in. the hydraulics hiss his entrance. kaveh looks. he says: ]
Netzach, are you here? Or rather, are you here with us today?
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iii
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for wanderer- cws: suicide attempt, experimentation, death
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Hythlodaeus | Final Fantasy XIV
Impostor Syndrome
[You enter a dark room with all of your senses and all of your memories intact. You are not alone.
There is another person in the room with you--the only other thing in the room with you--but there's something... forgettable about them (him?). He clearly has facial features and a particular color and style of hair, but the moment but all recollection of them seems to fade from your mind the moment you blink. His voice sounds familiar, but recognition dances ever out of your grasp. Only his words stick, but even then you have to fight to even care about them at all. To bother.
It's clear to you that he's unable to help after all. That there are much more competent people that could help you get out of here.
And yet... why do you feel as if you've met this man before?]
((The way to escape this psyche room is deceptively simple: your character need only remember Hythlodaeus's name, what he looks like, and that they know him at all. Once they do that, the door will open all on its own and the Hythlodaeus made from his feelings of inconsequence and inferiority will fade.))
ii. Just Another Memory -- A Day at the Office -- CW: Dehumanization, potential for non-graphic death
And you are the newest creation
[You appear in an office in a burst of light, the last lingering motes of magic fluttering gently to the stone floor you stand on, only to disperse before they reach their destination. You don't quite know how it is you got here (save for the fact that magic has something to do with it), nor do you have any idea who you are. It is as if you've simply popped into existence one day--mayhap because that is exactly what has occurred.
Luckily for you, you're not entirely directionless. In this office you are faintly aware of what it is that you are supposed to be, as well as what you were created for--whether as a companion, a familiar, a new lifeform, a toy, etc.]
Hm.... Another in the shape of a man. The fashion must be changing again.
[The (rather disappointed) voice comes from a black-robed man nearly three times your height, hood up, mask on, and setting a crystal as large as your arm down on a desk built more to his proportions than yours.
And as he begins his examination, realization begins to slowly sink in: this masked man is judging you. And if you are found wanting, your very right to exist will be revoked.]
((As mentioned above, this is Hythlodaeus's memory of a normal day at his job, and your character is one of the lucky creations being judged for registry at the Bureau of the Architect--bent a little to accommodate your character's involvement in the prompt of course!))
ii.
A man with a mask towers over him coldly, speaking with a familiar voice. He looks up, completely uncowed by the height difference and folds his arms. This must be some sort of memory he's experiencing. Alright then. He can go along with it. ]
What are you looking for?
[ It's with a slightly hostile tone that he asks as he tests the man's reaction to being addressed. Would he acknowledge the drifter, or would he be ignored? ]
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The difference between the forgettable and the enduring is artistry. [6]
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ii.
he had to mind post-sundering lahabrea and fandaniel so that's kind of like babysitting right
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Muriel | Good Omens, cw for isolation and just buckets of anxiety and religious guilt
[ If you put Muriel's mask on, the first feeling you'll be hit by is a wave of delight, followed by an equally overwhelming wave of guilt, largely about feeling delighted in the first place. There's also just a constant, low hum of anxiety that permeates every thought.
Everything is new, the humans here are so nice, but... you shouldn't want any of this, should you? You're going to have to go back to work eventually. ]
Just another memory
Muriel's neat, loopy handwriting appears above their head, cheerfully noting 'the beginning of time!'
It becomes quickly apparent that this is a sped-up montage; the years and centuries and millennia go by, with the counter above their head ticking them down, but Muriel's work stays largely the same. Sometimes the lighting in the room is a bit warmer, sometimes it's cooler; the wings disappear quickly, and Muriel's outfits go from flowing robes to early 20th-century office wear. Once every few centuries, another figure will enter the office (usually accompanied by a caption that reads something like '1748 AD: Saraqael requisitions a file!'), and Muriel will light up with excitement, bustling around with renewed purpose until the visitor inevitably leaves. When Muriel does leave their office, usually to deliver files to someone else, nobody looks at them, and they keep their head down, striding through Heaven's hallways like they're hoping not to be noticed.
Eventually, when the counter says '2023', Muriel is pictured hurrying through the hallways when they notice something. It's a corporeal matchbox, just lying on the ground, and as they crouch down to poke at it with fascinated horror, the montage fades to white.
Muriel - the real one, who's been standing there and watching this whole montage with apprehension - gives a nervous chuckle and says "It's... it's a bit weird seeing it all at once like that!"
Just Another Room
[ It's the blindingly white office again, but this time, instead of a neverending void, the office's walls stretch up impossibly high to a starry, open expanse. It's clear that this is some kind of huge skyscraper, there are clouds outside the windows, and a city is just barely visible down below.
Muriel stands by their desk, in their regular office uniform. Their wings are out, though folded close, and they're holding a collection of Earth things in their arms: there's a knitted cardigan, a box of tea, a plush bear wearing a police officer's uniform, and confusingly, an actual duck that seems happy just to chill. ]
Ohhh no... this is bad...! This is really, really bad!
[ If you look up, you'll see a giant, staring eye glaring down from that starry expanse.
((The solution to this is either gonna be finding a matchbox in the desk, or just straight-up leaping out the window! ))]
Wildcard
[ Either PM me or hit me at
just another memory
At first Daniel has a hard time even processing all of it. Sure, he thought Muriel was a little strange when he met them before, but he thought they were just a slightly eccentric regular human! Not.. whatever is going on here. An angel? The wings would indicate as much, unless they stand for something else in whatever world Muriel comes from.
The man stares in front of him, even as the vision itself has already faded - blinking rapidly to try and process any of this.
It's only when he realises Muriel is standing next to him and speaking up that he turns his head to talk to them. ]
That was--
[ Hold on. Still processing, apparently. The man's mouth opens and closes. ]
What are you? [ At least he mostly just sounds baffled, rather than angry in any sort of way.. Like all of this is a little too difficult for Daniel "very normal guy" LaRusso to grasp so easily. ]
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Elidibus | Final Fantasy XIV
I: Just Another Mask
The thoughts that come through are strange, alien, the sense of a consciousness gathering information and cataloging it at remarkable speed. They are ordered, ruthlessly so but not in a way that is forced. Clearly he is studying something, from the noted features it appears to be one of the many buildings you have access to. There is the curious sense of weighing the structure itself, the sensation of stone.
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, there is blooming warmth. A happiness almost boyish with how bright it is, almost too simplistic of a line of thinking compared to the intense research of before. But these feelings, too, are intense, neither overtaking the other.
He is balanced.]
II. Just Another Memory
Poorest Player On the Stage.
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kaveh / genshin impact.
closed to alhaitham.
you know this because the western antechamber has a mosaic done in the rare emergence of an old and vaunted inazuman technique that had been adjusted to account for sumeru's unique climate and humidity. the mosaic in gestalt is that of a flock of duskbirds in flight, rare blues and purples dyed in stone and glass shiver with the slant of the dawning light, cast shadows donning feathered life. the birds will fly so long as there is light, and the palace of alcazazaray was built for light. there is a heartbreaking beauty to the way it frames dawn between the sloped moorish-style domes overlaying the ravishing blue of a serpentine waterfall. today, as in most days, the light refracts along the fall disseminating into its primordial colours, creating the illusion of a perpetual, shattered rainbow.
within the silver gilded courtyard is a heart of gold. it resides outlined in chalk in a single, sole marble statue of a young man with a pinioned cape holding out his hands to receive the first light of the day. cupped in the circle of the courtyard's embrace is a fresco along its concave walls. fantastical beasts suspend themselves on stone wire reaching with claw and fang for the golden apple of discord. the huma bird dances over the heads of oceanids praying with spread winglets. a mess of blooming mourning flowers weep over the banks of a wending river like a pulled thread. unlike however the life-like visage of desperate detail carved into each being decorating the walls, the river will not run. the issue: a piece of the river is missing.
the gap in stone is the size of two hands put together, hewn with care and liquid smooth to the touch. the marble that had once been there has excised itself in the perfect shape of an isosceles triangle.
next to the statue of the young man, leaning as if in repose, is a chipping hammer meant for marble. the word 'diligence' is carved into the handle.
in the echoed distance, a dutar begins to play. ]
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closed to midnight.
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closed to yesod.
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closed to netzach.
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closed to altria.
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closed to wanderer.
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closed to alhaitham, again...
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angela | library of ruina | all contain minor spoilers unless noted otherwise
a third click, and the projector whirls to life, illuminating the room: it's a movie theater! there are no concessions, sorry, but there are plenty of seats, and the film is about to start.
if you were to look up, the figure of a woman stands by the window, not enough to get in the way of the movie but enough that she, too, can watch what the film holds. )
( these are OTA! closed threads to be done below. )
CLOSED TO KAVEH
find a roll of film. squint at it in the light offered by the projector. try to decipher what the name could be in reference to. "angelos" is an easy enough guess—that's what her name was based off of—but "50,000 first dates"? "orlando furioso"? she can't begin to imagine what those are.
she stares at the falling paper in the theater, wondering what they are, and puts in "angelos" to start. the beginning of her own memories—not someone else's, but hers and hers alone. it's this movie to start that kaveh will come in on, the disappointed voices of men filling the theater.
except it isn't complete—or rather, something is missing. )
We have a lot of tasks ahead of us, ( benjamin states, and the film goes bright white as if overexposed, the voices distorted beyond recognition—but after a few seconds resumes, angela alone with a stack of papers in her hands. worthy of noting is that for the times kaveh may have seen her in this city, the angela on screen is paler, more clearly inhuman than the one present here.
they're familiar, because they're what's falling from the ceiling in a continuous downpour. )
What is this? ...A script?
( and so on, until the memory ends at around 35:23 youtube video time
and then it's silent, and angela's voice, less monotone than the one on the screen, speaks out. )
Is that what I'm missing? ( a pause, and she realizes she's not alone—so she looks out of the window, high above kaveh. blond hair, but it's too long to be don quixote. she's seen him around—mr. kaveh, perhaps. a man she needs to see about a coffeeshop. but for him to be here, to see the beginning of her tale—
without her permission, the next movie begins to play, this time with no interruptions. )
What are you doing here?
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CLOSED TO YESOD & NETZACH
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CLOSED TO VERGILIUS
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Emet-Selch | Final Fantasy XIV | CWs listed by prompt; dropdowns below.
[ Just Another Mask ]
A. Seat of Redemption. | cw: Endwalker spoilers, apocalyptic themes; other warnings to be added.
Amongst the collection of masks, one in particular scowls up at you.
[Amongst the collection of masks, one in particular scowls up at you. The brow is furrowed and lined, the eyes holes heavy of lid and deeply set. Why yes, 'tis the face of the Honorable Emet-Selch, appearing unamused and weary, as if he hasn't quite gotten enough sleep as of late. Or perhaps he has simply been loaded down with too much bureaucracy; too many worries. (Or perhaps again this mask is as sour as its likeness for having been discarded in a heaping basket with so many others!)]
[Whatever the case may be, should you feel reckless enough or curious enough, or should you experience a most severe lapse in your better judgment, you slip the mask on and take Emet-Selch's face as your own. There's an irony to that, isn't there?]
[Agitation greets you. Agitation and a genuine concern. Nothing is as it should be - not anymore. He's yet to discover the answers he wants, the answers he needs, the answers that will be a slightly less bitter pill to swallow than the fate (the truth) which awaits him in that future. He must and will overcome this. If not for himself, for them. For their world. For their right to a future.]
[Just as soon as he gets this needling half-voice out of his head.]
'Do you mind? I am trying to concentrate. And I certainly don't recall extending an invitation for company!'
'Now. Get out.'
[ Just Another Memory ]
B. Answers in the Silence; Of Paradise Lost. | cw: Endwalker spoilers, death, despair, and apocalyptic themes of various flavors.
This door opens into paradise, a veritable eden filled with lush flora of all kinds.
[This door opens into paradise, a veritable eden filled with lush flora of all kinds. Flowers perpetually in blossom, enviable weather filled with sunshine and warmth. Before you spans an aquamarine lake, the Lethe, where enormous trees wade in upon their vast root systems. Yet despite all this splendor, there is an odd tension within the air. You find that you're out of breath, the hem of your clothes (whatever robes or glamoured oddity you may be wearing) slightly damp as you rush to keep pace with Emet-Selch - and your quarry. Your destination is an open shelter up ahead where a small group is already gathered. Hythlodaeus you may recognize. Beside him stands a woman in white, and on her other side a man with dark tousled hair, his face obscured by an ornate white mask - the very same displayed upon the others' breasts.]
[Perhaps most striking, however, is the small girl (or is she a creature?) who slows to a stop, caged in between you. Her hair is a downy, brilliant shade of blue, wing tufts extend from both sides of her face where ears would normally be, and long tail feathers protruding from the back of her belt. Her feet are like a falcon's talons. Clearly she was created with an avian admirer's eye. Yet you may also notice that she looks very afraid and very sorry. There are tears in her eyes the moment before she closes them.]
[And then the oddest thing happens.]
[She lifts her head skyward, her expression turning vacant as she connects to her sisters' consciousness, somewhere out there in the vastness of space. She begins to recite in monotone her findings. What they have seen in the wide expanse. The fates of countless stars and civilizations. All fates leading to...Death. "Dyo: Ruined remnants of buildings scattered across star, surface of which is encased in ice. Presence of life could not be verified. Tria: Evidence of large population centers akin to cities recovered. No extant life-forms found—only their lingering essence. Tessera: Edifices surmised to be abandoned residences found. No extant life-forms detected. Deadly plague or extreme environmental degradation likely to have led to mass extinction."]
[The masked man speaks, his voice small as if he cannot quite believe what he hears. "They are all...dead?"]
[She continues, undeterred. "Okto: Star found in state of violent conflict. Contact successfully made with inhabitants, but deployment of weapons of mass destruction resulted in total annihilation of local population shortly thereafter. Ennea: Star is a barren desert. No identifiable flora found. Bones of living beings resembling men discovered beneath sands, but determination regarding their intelligence inconclusive."]
[Emet-Selch speaks at last.]
Remind me, Hermes. What exactly was the question you entrusted to Meteion?
[The reply is prompt. "I tasked her with asking what others live for. What gives their lives...meaning..."]
Did you consider what may happen if the premise of the question is flawed?
To be able to answer it, one must be living — and desire to continue doing so. But if Meteion finds no living beings in the course of her journey... or none who desire to live, what then? What answers would she derive from their silence?
((OOC: In this scenario, your character is taking the place of the Warrior of Light. If you'd like to watch a video with the full context, you may do so here. This memory is interactive and may lead to scenes and outcomes that did not originally occur.))
[ Just Another Room ]
C. Burning Brilliance. | cw: Endwalker spoilers, death, mutilation (non-graphic), body horror (monster transformation).
High-pitched screams rend your ears. Scorching embers.
[High-pitched screams rend your ears. Scorching embers. Wave after wave of pain as something collides against a hard surface and ignites, goes numb, rekindles to life in a neverending cycle of misery and panic. You are part of that cycle - its very source, in fact. For the phoinix would be nothing but an arcane entity - a brilliant one, yes, but a construct of magicks in avian guise nonetheless. Soulless.]
[It's difficult to see amidst the violent sparks and the thick hum of magicks, but you become aware that two individuals have entered the hall.]
["There was an accident," you can hear one of them explaining. "During the concept's examination, a drifting soul merged with it ─ a soul burdened with regret, judging by the being's behavior. It rages against the pull of the Underworld."]
Consumed by the fear of death, it thrashes blindly about. It will know only pain and suffering and inflict the same upon others. A pitiful existence.
[There is a certain fond humor in the other's voice. "Such moving empathy," he says. "It's as if you wore the feathers yourself."]
[Emet-Selch waves a dismissive hand, his golden eyes focused upon you. The time for poetry and platitudes is over, and he would prefer for Hythlodaeus to simply come out with his request so that he might be done with all this and return to his newly appointed duty.]
Yes, yes. But what do you intend to do with it? Masterwork or no, we cannot well leave it as it is.
[No, Hythlodaeus agrees. Unfortunately they haven't the power to return this soul to the Underworld. But a powerful mage surely could... if he was so inclined? Such musings earn Emet-Selch's ire and a sharp glare, and yet the he takes a step forward, deciding to make a debt of this task.]
[The shadows cast across the floor flicker wildly and begin to lengthen, a dark mist forming at its center. And from this mist two pairs of molten eyes slip open as the form within grows in height and breadth. And then you realize - whatever this thing is, its entire focus is upon you. It will usher you to your death or something far worse besides.]
[Do you embrace it, or do you fight back?]
((OOC: In this scenario, your character appears as a wayward soul that has attached itself to the phoinix concept. This is an interactive memory and escape room both. Escape is simple enough - make your peace with death, or with one of your own demons. Or conquer your fears and stand up to the monster which is taking shape before your very eyes. The full story can be found here.))
D. In The Depths Where Souls and Stars Rest, Find Your Truth. | cw: Endwalker spoilers, death, apocalyptic themes.
The Underworld. Or perhaps you know it best as the Aetherial Sea.
[The Underworld. Or perhaps you know it best as the Aetherial Sea. The Lifestream. The sea of souls. The aetherial realm. Its names are many and varied, and to the Amaurotines each one is uttered with respect. For life moves in a cycle. When one returns to the star, their soul becomes cleansed within this flow, to be washed clean and born anew. And so life goes on; so Etheirys goes on as it ever has.]
[And it does look like a sea, does it not? Or perhaps not unlike a night sky twinkling with lights of myriad shades and colors you cannot identify, both mesmerizing and beautiful. Within it a labyrinthine path made of crystal winds along and occasionally cuts off all together, and it is upon this uncertain path that you are set, in whatever form you choose to fashion for yourself.]
[Death isn't so frightening, is it? To Hades, at least, it feels like an old friend.]
[And yet the world seems to tremble, a keening sound unlike anything you've ever heard before. Jagged fissures split the path before you, sending a rain of mirrored facets careening into the deep.]
[Something isn't right. The cycle is breaking, and the world is being ripped apart at the seams. Perhaps you hurry faster, or perhaps you stop and take cover - though no shelter is visible. Yet there is something, or someone up ahead. You see them in all their deep purple radiance. Or mayhap to you that color is a source of hatred and anger and grief.]
((OOC: Welcome to the Escape Room: Emet-Selch Edition. If you have any preferences, please let me know, as I will be attempting to make each iteration a little bit different based on aspects of his future that he's having difficulty coming to terms with. The stage is the Underworld, or more precisely a version of it which is beginning to break down due to the impact of The Final Days.))
[ Wildcard ]
[Feel free to send me a PM or check out my plotting thread here. You're also welcome to toss a prompt my way if you have something in mind you'd like to play with. Do keep in mind Emet-Selch has only experienced events through part of the Elpis timeline; anything later on comes to him through the first- and second-hand accounts of others.]
Seat of Redemption
'Oh! How unexpected. I didn't expect you to be aware I put this on.'
[A pause]
'You, ah, didn't happen to hear anything just now, did you?'
All brackets are in-character and at your disposal.
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a.
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in the depths...
lyney | genshin impact (falling genshin spoilers in prompt b)
[this prompt is going to be very silly]
[Lyney is slowly getting used to the city's. . . oddities (something he considers both good and bad), so when steps through the threshold of his apartment's front door and winds up in a weird mask-filled room instead, all he does is!! sigh deeply!!]
[and then pick up a mask, because what else would one do?? who knows what mask it is. it could be yours! he's not being picky! and when he puts it on--]
-- I suppose this is vaguely amusing, compared to some of the other things that have happened here.
[hello you have reached the Lyney telephone line, please leave a message after this amused pondering]
b. cue heist music (warning: there may be a fight with Lyney in this thread, depending on character actions!)
[you find yourself seated in the audience of a grand theater, surrounded by hundreds of people captivated by the performers on stage. one of them is recognizable as Lyney-- all bright smiles and showy dramatics. the other is a young woman about his age; they share the same facial features, but she is dressed in green and has cat ears and a tail. they are performing a series of magic tricks, each one drawing impressed ooooohs and aaaaahs from the audience]
[and in the midst of one such magic trick. . . (CHOOSE YOUR ADVENTURE)]
[1. a playing card suddenly flutters into your face, sticking to your forehead. you peel it off, only to find the following words written on the front: Efim Shezvhich, for your rebellion against the House, the Knave seeks an audience with you tonight.]
[you instinctively know that you should run]
[OR]
[2. an older man in the audience suddenly leaps out of his seat, bolting for the exit in the back. Lyney and the young woman on stage take one final bow, before vanishing into a cloud of billowing smoke]
[what could this be about? nothing is stopping you from investigating, after all]
((OOC: The memory in Prompt B is based on this super cool fan animation over here! OPTION 1 OF PROMPT B IS THE FIGHT PROMPT (where your character is implanted as the rebellious Fatui operative), while option 2 of prompt B is the "I just want to rubberneck this memory" prompt. Pick your poison, I'm very flexible!))
b. let's goooo
So this was to be a chase, hm? He grins. Alright. Let's see how good this magician—this Fatui agent, could be.
He stands and dashes off in the direction he knows he's supposed to go. ]
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b. SLAMS INTO THIS
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vergilius | limbus company | broad cw for violence, murder, blood, gore
1. JUST ANOTHER MASK cw; hella lots of guilt, likely will be references to murder, child death, maybe passive suicidal ideation
[The mask is alabaster, though shaped more like Vergilius's face, what with his sunken cheekbones, the scar cascading down through forehead and cheek like a sullen lightning bolt. Who wants to know the thoughts of such a grumpy, angry and intimidating man like this?]
[You do, of course! Put it on, why don't you!]
[Except...]
[Guilt comes sinking in, like an impenetrable fog. Everything that has ever gone wrong, you have wrought with your hands. Your sins are endless. It's not a feeling that strangles - not anymore - but the feeling is akin to a noose that hangs loosely around one's neck, threatening to go back to that state.]
[A miserable existence, like every breath is another reminder that you're alive, and they're not.]
[You did this.]
[But even in the midst of such suffering, there's spots on the horizon, like distant lighthouses. You bear your own light of a crimson gaze towards them. People you love. Children you love.]
[You'd burn the world for them, in a heartbeat.]
[But in the end, you're going to sink in the well of your karma. That's how it is.]
[That's how it will be.]
[Isn't that such a happy mindset to have...?]
2. JUST ANOTHER MEMORY cw: murder, blood, violence, gore
[This is a bloodbath.]
[You're standing in the midst of bodies piled up like trash in a bathroom, blood splattered in a horrendous stain all over. Ceiling, stall doors, sinks, mirror, floor. Blood. It reeks of it.]
[A man - Vergilius, but younger, with an unblemished face - is harshly holding another down over the sink, a large sword pressed against his neck. The man writhes, like a mouse in a trap.]
"Heugh...please....my kid is waiting for me at home..."
[The man suddenly whips a hand in his coat pocket, pulling out a knife. He instantly slams it back towards Vergilius' thigh, but is immediately rebuffed as the Fixer violently shoves the man against the sink. Vergilius's red eyes burn fiercely, the light practically wafting into the air.]
Wait! Lapis...
[The whispered, tearful statement falls on deaf ears.]
[For in the next second, Vergilius simply goes and slits his throat, sending a fountain of blood onto the already stained mirror and bathroom wall before him.]
[Vergilius discards the man, moving onto the next sink to wash his hands almost nonchalantly, when he notices something - a still living person, a young lady, shaking in fear in the midst of blood and gore. Vergilius asks a simple, monotone question:]
...So, what's the code?
[And she replies, in turn, voice wavering like a branch about to break.]
"Th...the file password is "Lapis"...it's the name of the boss's daughter..."
[Vergilius turns on his heel. She stammers out a p-please, let me-, but he interrupts.]
"You'll stay alive for a few hours with the cut I'm about to leave you. Consider it thanks for having told me the code."
[The monster makes good on his word. A single swing of his sword, and she collapses. He doesn't seem to care about her fate after that, turning....]
[And locking eyes with you.]
[...Nothing shows on his face. He simply stares, with vibrant red eyes, adjusting the sword in his hand.]
Who are you...? Speak now. Or hold your peace.
[Oh boy. What do you do now?]
3. JUST ANOTHER ROOM cw: hecked up blood and death imagery, body horror
[You wake up in a flooded room.]
[Or is it a flooded room? The water you're in is to your knees - but on second glance, it's not water. It's thick. The metal taste is so potent it bites at the back of one's throat. It's not a room, either, since there's no definite walls. Just darkness as far as the eye can see.]
[But you're not alone.]
[There is a man standing in the water. But this man, he's a giant, towering over you, like some abandoned crumbling colossus left behind from a civilization once forgotten. He doesn't seem to notice you, however - his red eyes stare ahead, blood like tears dripping down out of them to stain streaks down his face. The mantle he wears over his shoulder is also blood, perpetually dripping, and on his head is a mantle of thorns.]
[A blood-red sea, and a man who has given form to it.]
[The actual Vergilius, at his proper size, is here, too. He seems more angry than confused, looking around for a way out, but as he shifts, hands reach out of the water to tug at him. And you, too - there are crooked, spindly hands, stained red, that grasp onto jackets, grasp onto arms.]
[These are the hands of people you once loved.]
[Vergilius lets out a frustrated groan.]
I can't...stay here...I have to go forward...
[But to where? Maybe there's a clue or two in this room?]
4. WILDCARD
[If you want a personalized starter, please please hit me up at DM, plurk @ vampirize, or discord @ fridayivy and hit me up! I'll make one for you with custom memories at request too. :)]
2.
There isn't disgust in Daan's expression. Mostly, he takes in the scene before him, the familiar scent of blood, that coppery taste in the mouth from how much there is. Once again, it would be so easy to be intimidated. To be afraid of this giant of a man with his fierce red eyes glaring down, crimson splashed across the room.
He doesn't think he's ever been afraid of Vergilius. Not even right now. It's not a reasonable reaction really, which he recognizes, but-- well. That's how it is. Maybe it's the love he bears, or just accepting that this is a memory or something like it.]
Do you remember me, Vergilius? [It's possible he might. It's also possible that the memory bears its weight fiercely. Hard to say.]
Otherwise, this is gonna be a little awkward for both of us.
[He doesn't run.
He takes a step forward.]
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just another room.
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cyno | genshin impact | cw: child neglect/abuse, blood, violence, potential self harm
just another room;
wildcard;
just another memory
Nothing around him stands out in particular. The smattering of ruins, accompanied by the occasional tumbleweed, and an oasis in the distance—he's seen this all before. So he walks forward. If this was someone's memory, then he would no doubt be led to the focus at some point.
Eventually, he crosses over a dune, and this is where he realizes whose memory this is. There is a white haired child lying on the sand. He doesn't even think twice—he moves quickly, rushing up to the boy and kneeling down to check on his condition. Still breathing, but quite sunburnt—how long has been out here? There's blood on his hands, and on the bandages wrapped around him too. His blood, or someone else's?
Doesn't matter at the moment. The boy looks fatigued and disoriented. His pulse is rapid, but weak. Despite the sun bearing down on him, his skin is cool and clammy. Heat exhaustion. Not good.
There was an oasis nearby—one he knows to be real and not a mirage. There's no time to waste. He taps the boy on the shoulder and speaks with a quiet, gentle voice. ]
Hey. Hang in there. I'm taking you to an oasis.
[ He scoops the boy up with his arms and begins to run for the oasis, cursing his lack of a working Vision. ]
Just Another Room
memory.
yesod | library of ruina
[ Yesod's thoughts range from mundane activities to various concerns keeping him preoccupied. He might be in the middle of tasks for The Bookstore, doing yoga, or housework. There are notes and maps to update. There are questions and the recent developments regarding the experiments in this city to consider.
More personal and private thoughts and emotions abound, too — these focus on Netzach. ]
B. JUST ANOTHER MEMORY
[ Yesod's available memories span his first life as a researcher, Lobotomy Corporation, the Library, and his time here so far. While this is being posted very late, my plotting comment is here for additional details and any discussion of custom prompt requests. ]
for midnight (cw: hallucinations, minor drug use references)
The next door that Midnight takes will lead him to a room furnished with a white desk and a black chair, facing a wall of multiple monitor screens. There, across all of these screens, images begin to present him with fragments of someone's past:
"Try drinking some Enkephalin," Netzach suggests. A bright green fluid trickles from the seams of his mechanical form. The scene warps and flickers; Netzach's appearance shifts to come into focus as that of a human man, long green hair loose, uniform crinkled. "Close your eyes, and open them again." Briefly, Netzach as he is now flashes into view, superimposed here: he smiles, and the room takes on a fleeting warmer glow then.
The light dims. Yesod's hands are made of metal, like the rest of him, but as he inspects them, he has skin to keep covered, rotting to match the rest of him rotting from within, too. Every centimeter of exposed flesh is intact when he examines himself, but the rot is there, without a doubt, beneath the collar of the turtleneck that he pulls up just past his chin, its sleeves concealing his wrists, the layers of his dress shirt and jacket over it, the gloves encasing his fingers. He fastens buttons and tightens his tie. Each breath of air, day after day, is sickening.
"Yesod, do you really feel nothing about this?" Hod asks, as if the truth and expressing it would make any difference. The number of casualties increases regardless. There are more documents to expunge, information erased instead of being preserved, and the paltry gesture of remembering names stripped from the records.
(James was enjoyable company. James exploited that weakness. James caused the deaths of other employees — the order to put him down needed to be issued to mitigate further harm.)
The images grow distorted, grainy; the metal cage of Yesod's body comes apart, leaving everything festering and bound in crumbling restraints to spill forth, messy and painful. Then the office space around Midnight melts away, replaced by sterile surroundings. In front of him, the purple-haired man seated there hunches over to fold his unclothed torso out of sight as best he can, and the scratches and welts marring his skin with it, as if to shield himself, released from the straps tying him down for the medical examination forced upon him. Slowly, shoulders trembling, he lifts his head enough to gaze at Midnight through his disheveled bangs. His voice has gone hoarse.
"...Nothing is wrong. I told you that from the beginning... Why are you looking at me like that?" ]
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for alhaitham and kaveh
FIRST FOR ONCE HELLA
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