THE THINGS I GAVE YOU.
» THE BANK — INTRODUCTORY NOTES
District 2 is open, bringing with it access to new and interesting locations—including the city's main bank branch. The bank is a large building with a stone exterior, wrought iron grating on the windows, and large, heavy metal doors that take surprisingly little effort to open, their hinges silent and well-oiled.
Early in the day on July 19, characters in the vicinity of the bank will hear first a low, metallic creaking sound from inside the building, like metal straining against metal. This is followed by the sharper noise of locks disengaging, and then the large, heavy doors on the front of the building swing open slightly, enough to let a person through.
Directly inside the doors is the bank lobby, and beyond that is the main banking floor, with elegant marble flooring and dimly lit chandeliers. It would appear that this was once the main commercial bank of the city, although it is now completely empty, with no tellers behind the counters and no cash in any of the drawers.
You may rifle through the tills and filing cabinets to your heart's content, but similar to the files in City Hall, there is no useful information to be found—all the papers are blank, or are empty forms without any personally identifying information. There are no monetary devices to be found either; this is, after all, not a city that operates on a cash system, so there are no coins or paper bills in any of the tills or, indeed, anywhere within the bank.
What you might be able to find, though, is a rack of delicate, burnished brass keys on a wall toward the back of the main banking hall. Each of these keys is attached to a stamped metal keychain bearing a name on one side and a number on the other. Some of these may be names you recognize, and some of them may not, but they are all names belonging to current residents of the city, and each key corresponds to a safety deposit box within the vault at the back of the building. Can you remember what you stored in that box for safekeeping? Maybe you had better go find out.
At the back of the main banking hall is a vault secured with a large circular metal door. The door is currently unlocked and propped open; it can be closed, but cannot be locked (intentionally, anyway) from either the inside or the outside. The vault contains row upon row of safety deposit boxes, each locked. Participating characters who are in possession of a key can open their own safety deposit box, but it is not currently possible to force open any safety deposit box that does not belong to them. After August 1, players will be able to use their safety deposit boxes to store their own belongings, and break-ins will become possible with prior player permission and appropriate consequences.
Below sections detail the safety deposit boxes for both choose-your-own-adventure players and randomized players! Please see the randomized matches for this event HERE.
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IT'S TRUE, PEOPLE TAKE THINGS BUT RARELY.
» SAFETY DEPOSIT BOXES — A SELF-GUIDED TOUR
For some of you, getting into your safety deposit box is quite straightforward.
You take your key from the rack behind the teller's counter and make your way back through the building and into the vault. It's cool inside, the temperature well-regulated and the air dry. On the walls are rows upon rows of safety deposit boxes, and it may take you a moment to find the one that corresponds to the number stamped on your key. Does that number mean anything to you? It may, or it may not.
When you find your box, it takes very little effort to open it. A slide of your key, a quick turn, and the safety deposit box's door springs open to reveal the metal container within. You remove the metal box from the wall and bring it over to the table in the center of the room, clearly placed there for this express purpose. Maybe there are others around, or maybe you're alone. Do you remember yet, what it was you put in here? Well, there's no time like the present to check.
You open the safety deposit box to find—something that shouldn't be there. It's yours, that much you're sure of, but you didn't bring it with you to the city. You reach into the box to pick it up, and the surge of memory is immediate, sending your mind back to your strongest memory associated with the item in your hand.
Then the vault door swings shut, trapping you inside with whoever else has the misfortune of sharing the vault with you right now. No matter what force you try, the door won't open again. There doesn't appear to even be a mechanism that unlocks the door from the inside, and from within several feet of metal and stone, no one on the outside will be able to hear you shout. It seems hopeless—how long can anyone last, trapped in a place like this?
Should you turn back to the open safety deposit box, you might notice a slip of paper resting on the bottom. The paper looks aged, like it's been in the box for quite some time, and in printed text it reads: "Nothing is yours. It is to use. It is to share. If you will not share it, you cannot use it."
Maybe it means you should let another hold the item you've retrieved from the box… or maybe it means you should share the weight of memory. Try to interpret the meaning in whatever way you can. But should you decide to unburden yourself, and share with someone else the weight of the item you're holding in your hands, you may find that there's a means of escape after all.
Once you free yourself from the vault, for the next several days you find yourself feeling rather honest, like you may not be able to stop yourself from confessing the truth about the item you now carry…
Characters who wish to participate in the event, but who do not wish to randomize the contents of their safety deposit boxes, can open their safety deposit boxes to find an emotionally significant item belonging to the character—player's choice as to what the item is. The only guidelines are that it should be small enough to fit reasonably in a pocket and may not have any magical or weapon properties. Similarly, players are able to choose the memories associated with the items in the safety deposit boxes. The vault door will remain closed until the characters in the vault explain to each other the significance of their items and the memory associated with them, at which point it the vault mechanisms will disengage and the door will swing open as if it had never closed to begin with. However, for the four days following the event, characters who carry their safety deposit box item on their person will feel oddly compelled to tell other characters about its significance and meaning.
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A CRASH-SITE IS SACRED, WE'RE FAITHFUL.
» SAFETY DEPOSIT BOXES — A JOINT VENTURE
For others of you, the contents of the safety deposit box may be considerably more disconcerting.
You also take your safety deposit box key from the rack behind the bank teller's counter and make your way back through the building and into the vault. It's cool inside, the temperature well-regulated and the air dry. On the walls are rows upon rows of safety deposit boxes, and it may take you a moment to find the one that corresponds to the number stamped on your key. Does that number mean anything to you? It may, or it may not.
When you find your box, it takes very little effort to open it. A slide of your key, a quick turn, and the safety deposit box's door springs open to reveal the metal container within. You remove the metal box from the wall and bring it over to the table in the center of the room, clearly placed there for this express purpose. Maybe there are others around, or maybe you're alone. Do you remember yet, what it was you put in here? Well, there's no time like the present to check.
You open the safety deposit box to find—wait, what is that? It certainly doesn't belong to you. Tucked inside the safety deposit box alongside the item is a slip of paper with another name on it, as well as a cryptic message: "Nothing is yours. It is to use. It is to share. If you will not share it, you cannot use it." The item isn't yours, but it does appear to belong to another resident of the city. Maybe your safety deposit boxes somehow got mixed up? It seems like it would be a good idea to find this person and return their property to them.
Whether you encounter the owner of the item in the vault or elsewhere in the city, when it comes time to hand the item over, two things happen. One—the doors are locked tight, refusing to allow either you or the item's owner out until you both understand what the item is and what it means to the other. To unburden your heart is the only way to free yourself.
And two—as the owner of the item explains its significance, you find yourself oddly captivated, resonating strongly with whatever emotion the item's owner most closely associates with it. You may not be able to see the memory that the other person describes, but you can certainly feel the emotions they felt—after all, the easiest way to unburden oneself is to share the load with another. Isn't that right?
Once you free yourself from your enthralled state, and once you have your own belongings returned to you, for the next several days you find yourself feeling rather honest, like you may not be able to stop yourself from confessing the truth about the item you now carry…
Characters who opted to randomize the contents of their safety deposit box during the plotting post, or who plotted a joint experience with another character, will open their safety deposit boxes to find a small, non-magical but emotionally significant item belonging to another player character in the city. They will need to find the owner of that item and return it to them—this can either be inside the bank vault or in another location within the city. Regardless of where the meeting takes place, the character holding the item will find themselves unable to leave until the character who owns the item explains its significance; as they do, the holder of the item will find themselves swept up in the emotional highs and lows of the memories associated with that item, allowing them to share all of the feelings, regrets, joys, griefs, and rages that the owner experiences in the telling. Additionally, for the four days following the event, characters who carry their safety deposit box item on their person will feel oddly compelled to tell other characters about its significance and meaning.
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WILDCARD.
The city is by no means small, and there are plenty of things for you to see. There's no rush in exploring, so feel free to take your time looking around and peering into various nooks and crannies and alleyways—and don't worry, you're not very likely to find anything peering back.
If none of the above prompts appeal, feel free to check out the Locations and Maps pages and write your own freestyle prompt using one or many of the available locations.
This month's event headers come from "The Things" and "The Gatherer," two poems by Brendan Constantine. The text of the paper slip comes from Ursula K. LeGuin's The Dispossessed.
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citylogs2023-07-19 08:45 pm
no subject
So she pushes herself away from the table before hopping up to sit on it and get comfortable.
"I won't tell, promise. I know I'm kind of a bitch, but I'm not the 'spread secrets that aren't my own' type of bitch." She gestures to her book. "Besides, I'll have to tell you about this too. I don't really care as much if others know, but I'm sure some people will be weird about it, so." So, you know. Maybe keep it on the downlow for her too.
She leans back on her hands a bit and watches him, quiet and expecting.
no subject
He takes a deep breath. “I went through something really awful, and he was there for me the whole time, he promised he would be. But there was this girl with super powers who we thought died and she came back right at the end.”
It already stings to bring up.
“So when I recovered there she was, and they were dating, and suddenly he didn’t care about me because he had her but I still needed him.” He still does. There haven’t been many moments in this horrible place where he hasn’t wished that Mike was there to keep him sane. Or go crazy with him.
“He’s called Mike and she’s El, I think it will be easier with names.” He’s stalling.
“I really needed him and he wasn’t there and eventually I got sick of it and I told him I was but I didn’t say it right.” Stupid girl was not a nice thing to call a girl he barely knew who had saved his life and he knows that. “I called girls stupid and he thought I was calling El stupid and I guess I was but then he said something equally stupid…” it’s not my fault you don’t like girls and he’s sure there was an unspoken ‘yet’ in hindsight but he’s also aware he will never like girls in the way Mike meant.
“Sorry this is…” hard? Awful? Terrifying? All of the above. “He implied I’m…” say it, William, just say it. “That I’m queer. Which…” is true actually. “And I don’t know about where you’re from but where I am that’s bad, really bad and people are dying from queer disease, it’s all over the news and the president basically gets on TV and says they deserve it.” His throat is getting tight.
“So I ran away and I destroyed the place I felt safe, because I didn’t feel safe there anymore anyway because of the bad stuff and I tore the photo and nothing has been the same since.” He looks over at the door like he’s expecting something, a groan, a click, anything, that means this might be working but it’s quiet and solid and still closed.
no subject
She looks back when he mentions 'queer' and her mouth forms an 'o,' understanding suddenly. "Oh." Oh. "I get that." Miu had never thought too much about any of it. She knew guys liked her--she could feel the emotions and thoughts of those who touched her, she knew their thoughts and desires. She hated them, finding it all disgusting, hated having those base desires and thoughts directed toward her. Knew she wasn't worth anything more anyhow. Knowing this was all that awaited her and what she needed to capitalize on to get ahead. The memory of a lingering camera on her chest as she posed, the gravure photoshoots she did that sold like hot cakes.
'It's all so stupid,' she'd said, and she still means it now. So, so stupid.
And then there'd been Yuri, with her stubborn need to be helpful, to be kind. Quiet, soft, pretty--all the things Miu could never quite be. Miu, who was empty and all edges, a bad attitude with a worse mouth.
If Yuri had snapped at her, she would've been mad too.
She gets it.
So stupid.
"It's...rough." Queerness is still one of those things where it seems to teeter back and forth between being tolerated, accepted, or outright hated. Miu had never kept up with any of it, but she gets why he might be so worried about it all.
"I don't care about that, if you were worried. It doesn't matter to me. I don't know your friends, but... Maybe after you all mature a bit, I'm sure they'll accept you." A pause and then, "well, you know your friends best, so..." What does she know!!
She looks at the door and then at her book, sighing deeply. "I won't tell anyone." She already said so, but it feels like it needs to be reiterated and that she should reassure him now that it's out. She runs her fingers over her book cover. "Super powers, huh..." Miu glances up; the door staying shut still.
"Guess it's my turn?"
no subject
It’s rough is an understatement. But he understands the sentiment so he doesn’t question it. The lifelong bullying, the way his own father hated him and then left because of him. The kids at school parroting things their parents had said. The way he knows what people think happened when he went missing and that a twelve year old deserved that. It’s a nightmare comparable to monsters in the walls.
“They might.” They probably suspect. Even if they don’t know about The Mike Thing. He’s not convinced it isn’t obvious. The whole town seemed to know before he did.
“Yeah, she’s telekinetic and telepathic and she’s one of my favourite people in the world even though I used to hate her.” Some part of Will thinks maybe she hated him back. It doesn’t matter anymore, or it didn’t before he pissed her off somehow in his meddling and trying to make Mike fix things so they’d both stop being so unhappy.
“Yeah I guess… Sharing is caring. I can turn my back if it’s easier?”
no subject
She picks up the book, settling it in her lap, hand on the cover. "Nah, it's fine. You don't have to. 'Preciate it though." A breath. "Well...When I was 3, my mother..." Then she stops, tilts her head, then shakes it. "No, this goes before that. Let's see..."
She's quiet again, before she opens the book and decides to just read it aloud.
"Where Ghost Marriages take place, tales of children of the dead are often found.
They are known as "Shadowborn", or "Children of the Underworld," and are feared by the people.
"The Shadowborn"
Once, a man beloved by a girl living in a small village went missing in the mountains.
Every day, the girl went to the mountain shrine to pray for his return, but years went by, and the man never came back.
After ten years, the girl had lost her mind. She went on living and talking to a man who wasn't there.
One day, the villagers noticed that she was with child.
She said that the man who had gone missing was the father.
Ignoring the talk in the village about the identity of the father, she gave birth alone.
The baby girl that was born had the missing man's eyes.
As for the man, he was an outsider who had stumbled upon the village. It later transpired he was killed by the villagers ten years prior.
When the child learned how to speak, she asked the villagers,
"Why did you kill my father?""
The spooky story sounds like something you'd tell around a campfire trading scary stories with your friends, but Miu's expression is grim. She closes the book and tosses it aside, leaning back on her hands again, face tilted toward the ceiling.
"I'm a Yomiko--a Shadowborn. My mother was alive, but my father was a spirit. I was born 'half-dead' and I guess I'm half-ghost, or something like that." She kicks her dangling feet, trying to look indifferent about it. "It means I've got powers too, and I dunno about your El friend, but take it from someone who has them: It sucks."
no subject
“I can’t say I understand how that works but that sounds pretty shit.” Will tells her tugging on his sleeves. “I died once and sometimes I still feel like I’m half dead too so if you ever want someone to I dunno…” he tails off, shrugs and the manages a small half-smile at her, “recreate a less violent version of night of the living dead with you can always message me on that network thing.”
He thinks about it and hopes that El wouldn’t mind him talking about her with this kind of honesty. “With El she was born in a lab, they stole her from her mom, and I think she really just wants to be able to be normal but none of us can because there’s monsters after us and…” he gestures, careful not to do so too violently in case she doesn’t like fast hand movements in the same way as things slamming. “None of us get to be normal, but she deserves to.”
no subject
“El and I have quite a bit in common, I guess.” She finally looks at Will, thoughtful before continues her story.
“My mother had abilities similar to me, but mine’s a lot stronger. But she…” Miu hesitates, then sighs. “She dropped me off at a friend’s house and took off. Her friend didn’t have any powers herself, so…”
She looks away, seining her feet again. “I was about 3, and that’s when my powers showed up. I could see ghosts, and I was terrified. I used to totally freak out, but she just… thought I was making things up. That I missed my mom and was acting out because of it or because I wanted attention.
And… I could hear people, when I touched them. Their true thoughts and feelings. Their memories. I knew from the beginning and all growing up that that woman didn’t love me or care about me like a daughter. She just felt sorry for me. Do you know what it’s like to grow up knowing all the lies people tell and knowing that people always want something from you, that no one really cares about you?”
Miu shakes her head, looking down at the book. “I hate her. If she stuck around, I’d at least have had someone who understood…”
no subject
“She left you to just deal with the powers that are her fault in the first place? That sounds…” Will considers it carefully. He doesn’t mind when Jonathan talks unfavourably about their father but he knows he has an almost knee jerk reaction of trying to play it down whenever someone else does. “Kinda selfish honestly. She could at least have left you with somebody who could help.”
At least El had been taught about her powers. At least she knew how to use them and didn’t flounder totally on her own. Will can’t imagine having no family to care about him, it’s his lifeline, no matter what anyone else says about him he knows he’ll always have Jonathan and his mom.
“I’ve only been able to read one other person and that’s because he used a monster to possess me and it left a connection so I can only imagine how much it sucks to have that but with everybody,” his particular mind link does leave him occasionally tuning in to the thoughts and feelings of a serial killing madman. “Knowing just how many people don’t care about your well-being or actively hate you hurts too, when my father started telling people he suspected I was queer they made sure I knew that they thought I was an abomination and I’m not saying its the same because that all sounds horrifying but even if I don’t understand totally I can empathise.”
no subject
Miu is, for all intents and purposes, an actual 'abomination' so she snorts and reaches out to poke at Will's shoulder. "I'm an abomination. I'm literally not fully human and something that shouldn't even exist. You just like dudes, something half the planet does. Those people are stupid."
Which isn't a surprise--Miu considers most people stupid, but still. She leans back, quiet a moment as she stares at the rows of safety deposit boxes. "...Thanks, though. Sometimes it's enough just to know it's okay to be upset or angry. I just..." Miu cuts herself off, sighing deeply.
"...I heard rumors, that someone who looked like me, who looked like my mom, had been seen near this mountain. I dropped everything. My agent was probably going nuts trying to figure out where I disappeared to. But I ran to that mountain and got caught up in some crap, all just trying to find her. I wanted to ask her what was going on, why she'd left, I want to understand. But I don't know if anything she says will make it okay. I dunno if I can forgive her, or if I even want to."
She swings her feet again, huffing. "And then when I found her, I woke up on that train. This place sucks." She glances to him, a ghost of a smile on her face. "But at least I've met some interesting people."
no subject
“I think it would be weirder if you weren’t upset or angry,” being abandoned stings even when it’s not done maliciously and he has plenty of experience with feeling like he’s all alone. “I mean okay I get it, parents are people too and they make mistake and fuck up or whatever other things people like to say to make you feel guilty for not being eternally grateful to your parents for giving you life, but also nobody asked to exist and I think that means it’s totally okay to be mad when their fuck up hurts you.”
Will stretches his legs out and plays with his sleeves a moment before adding, “getting answers is important sometimes, and I think it’s brave to go looking because you might not find what you want but at least you can say you tried.” Ever since he found out there was a real person behind everything that’s happened to him he’s wanted to ask why me? He’d probably consider doing something like walking into danger if he thought he could get some answers so he doesn’t blame her for trying.
“I’ve been here weeks and you’re right; it sucks. Like really sucks. It’s been throwing the stupid Mike thing in my face since I got here and I’m already sick of it, so don’t be surprised if more than this gets dragged up for you too.”
no subject
She puffs out a breath, shaking her head. "This place really likes toying with us. But hey, maybe this'll help if that Mike guy shows up, so you can talk." She pauses, then adds, "and if you don't want to talk to him, I'll, I dunno. I can kick him in the shin for you."
It's a goofy, silly offer designed just for that, even if she kinda means it. It's the least she can do since he listened to her little sob story about her mom, even if he still got some cliffnotes version of it.
There's a soft click and a groan noise of the door being unlocked, causing Miu to sit up straighter and peer at it. "Huh, guess that worked."
no subject
“Wanna get out of here before it decides there’s more it wants out of us and locks us in again?” Will asks, eying the door suspiciously as he hops off the table, shoves the torn photo into his pocket, the note back into the box and gets to putting it back so he hasn’t just left a mess for the next unlucky bastards who get curious as to what might be in here.
“Also I meant it about the whole if you need to talk ever thing, if you want to trade usernames?” It’s been an age since Will had to offer friendship first and the question is vaguely mumbled. At least she knows he’s gay and won’t read into it, small mercies.
no subject
It isn't until they clear the doors that she actually seems to relax, giving a soft 'phew.' The question makes her look over, tilting her head as if she has to consider it before she gives a little smile.
"Yeah, sure. Mine's 'yomiko'. Y-O-M-I-K-O." She pulls out her phone to receive his. "I thought it'd be funny, but joke's on me I guess..." Especially if she's having to share its meaning with people now. "And...the same goes for you too. If you ever want to talk, or vent, or whatever. I'm always free. It's not like I've got anything to do in this city right now."
no subject
“So I guess we’re in the same boat with embarrassing usernames,”
He’s incredibly glad to be out of the vault but still feeling shaken by it so once his phone is back in his pocket he pulls his sleeves down over his hands. “I’ve not done much either, other than sit in the apartment I took.” It looks like a mad artist lives there now, sketches and assorted detritus littering every surface. “Might be nice to know someone other than the two people from home.”
no subject
"At least you have people from home," she says as she stretches and yawns. "I'm on my own. But it's not so bad. Maybe an arcade will open up or something. Love to see how they make that messed up and connected to us." She would not, actually, her tone sarcastic but at least an arcade would be something.
no subject
The idea of an arcade is also fun though he’s not sure how it would work considering that music and movies and other pop culture doesn’t seem to exist in the city. “If you do find an arcade I’d go with you if you want? I haven’t been to one in forever because the one at home shut down.” It might be shit and terrible and find a way to fuck with them but it’s a risk Will would be willing the take just to find out it it was fun instead.
no subject
She stretches her arms above her head, listening to her back pop in satisfaction. "Didn't think the worst thing I'd have to deal with here is boredom. But I'll hold you too that, I'll definitely drag you around if I see something fun."