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
hello officer yes that little shit steering the blond anime twink. i want them both *annihilated*
Well, despite all evidence to the contrary, I haven't attained corpsehood just yet.
[ Midnight looks down at the bench, considers it briefly before answering. ]
Well, I was upright, then decided that verticality wasn't worth it for a bit. Apparently. I actually don't remember very well, it just seems like something I'd do.
[ Midnight aims a smile at Kaveh. It's a joke. (It's always a joke!) ]
If you're asking what I was doing before that, I think...
[ Midnight pauses, then pulls a planner from his pocket, catching the letter that falls out with it with his other hand. He gently replaces the envelope between the back cover and the pages, then flips to the current date. ]
... Looks like I planned to go to City Hall for a bit. I should probably pick up some water on the way. Care to join me?
[ This is followed by a grin. Of course Midnight wants company. When does he not? ]
STILL LAUGHING but also apologies for the slow! busy's over, so i am back, flexes fingers
also: fangs. but, kaveh thinks, after having stared for a moment, didn't some people simply have sharper teeth than others? that must be it. tighnari has ears the size of small wings, after all, and there's nothing wrong with that sort of thing. if your teeth were a little sharper than normal, wasn't that just genetic variation at work?
kaveh's brain spirals.
in any case, midnight is smiling at kaveh, and kaveh isn't quite sure why it bothers him so much. ]
Well, yes- I mean no. I mean. [ kaveh starts, and stop, and then starts again at a clip. hey, his brain informs him, you're getting your mixed signals on again, in which kaveh considers the premise, and decides that this is very understandable given the nature of the conversation and the context of it.
then, he remembers - he'd found midnight on a bench less than thirty seconds ago. ] Wait, you were passed out on a bench, and you don't remember how you got there! If you don't remember, it means you must've passed out at some point, and your body took over the rest. Are you alright? You're smiling like you are, but I'm suddenly not as convinced as I was a minute ago.
[ yes! kaveh's brain cheers. yes! a thought has been parsed! ]
not you coming back just when life ground pounds me.... anyway hi i'm back
Midnight laughs, pushing off from the bench, and inclines his head to the path toward the closest convenience store. Is this offer to walk with him going to take Kaveh's mind off of his groundbreaking discovery? Midnight is going to give it a shot! ]
Well, I'm standing, breathing, and blessed with the company of someone both stunning and eminently compassionate, aren't I? All other nonsense aside, I believe I'm doing well for myself.
[ This is honestly the truth! Now, whether that speaks to his health or not is a huge shrug, but one that Midnight's going to let slide for now, if Kaveh doesn't hold him to it. ]
I would like some water, though, and I think we can both agree that will do me some good, yes?
HAHA life was taking turns and it was your turn, but wb!!! new midnight icon?? :eyes:
the light of the nearby convenience store creates a natural path for them to follow. kaveh considers this. ]
I can agree to that. More than just the mere blessing of odd company, water will ensure you're, well, watered, along with all of those other things. You can't go wrong. [ he says, cautiously. midnight has a way of reminding kaveh that the night is a feverish thing because the air is cool upon your skin; it reminds you a little of your own foibles. observe: the casual realisation that kaveh hasn't had water in some time, and maybe that's why he feels, oddly, like he's drowning.
kaveh frowns. ] No, I should have started with this. Midnight, I'm not particularly good company right now. [ for various reasons, for obvious reasons, for sleep-related reasons. but the question is an offer in reverse: ] Um, are you?
[ does midnight truly, actually want company this very moment? ]
it is!! also THANK YOU FOR THE PAID BUT I HAVEN'T DRAWN ANY OTHER GOOD MIDNIGHTS LATELY AAA
It means that no matter what Kaveh does, he's good company in Midnight's eyes. Then again, Midnight's never needed much to clear that threshold. He turns a little, making sure that Kaveh's following. ]
My darling, I'm always good company.
[ A softer laugh, the kind that is completely confident in one's ability to escort. ]
But what of you? I do hate to steal you away if you're not willing to be stolen.
I BELIEVE IN U FRIEND or maybe... arknights... will release...... midnight alter.......
but it's not a 'no', and midnight has yet to give him any indication that he's the sort of man to think one thing and demure another entirely, and so kaveh goes where the light is. ]
I'm the one who stole a section of your bench, remember? I've something to repay for that, so consider it a theft for a theft. Though I don't really consider this stealing. [ well, some walking will be good for him, kaveh thinks. or rather, walking with a purpose. he'd been walking for half the day trying to get out of his own skin, but even travelling to another world proved that couldn't be done. ] Convenience store, and then city hall. I've been meaning to check up on the latter; I hid a few of my schematics behind the brochures a little while ago, and I'd like to see if the words or lines on them have changed, or if they've remained the same.
[ kaveh looks at the line of midnight's silhouette in the line, as if studying for a minute crack along a marble front. ] Were you arrested for the chandelier, Midnight?
i feel completely normal about this idea (fingers digging into my thigh, stress headache imminent)
[ They've made it to the windows of the convenience store, and Midnight pulls the glass door open for the door, the chime soft and inoffensive in its banality. (It is odd how very little personality anything has around here. Even specialty items have a sense of generic cheer...) ]
I've run a few tests of my own with regards to the books and text thereof, but I'm interested to see if yours have yielded anything different. Less theft, more of a mutual excursion.
[ ... Ah. ]
Well, we should pick up some drinks of another sort, if we're going to spend a bit of time together.
[ He doesn't remember the alcohol spiel, but he did remember to check the whole laundromat shitpost, alcohol spiel included. There's always time to spare for a fellow drinker, naturally. ]
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what instead comes: the brisk, cool air of the convenience store washing over him. it's funny, kaveh thinks; he ought to be used to this by now. but he isn't, not really. sumeru city had been hot, is the thing. between the typhoons and the monsoons and the acrid heat of the desert and the moist humidity of the rainforest, you couldn't go anywhere without sweating a good bucketload. how useful would it be, to have perpetual cooling that cleansed the heat from your skin every time you walked into a building. how glorious it would be. a lump catches itself in kaveh's throat. he misses sumeru city, he thinks. it's silly what reminds you of this sort of thing. the little fragments weigh in his pocket as he rolls to a stop in the sliding doorway of the convenience store, and only manages to restart himself when the doors impatient jiggle towards closing.
so instead, a far easier thought to parse: kaveh breathes out between his teeth. ]
Oh, you know all my opinions on alcohol already, don't you. [ says he, with some measure of tailored despair as he looks to midnight, just a little aghast, but perhaps grateful for it. kaveh's fingers card sheepishly through his hair, snagging on his clips as he peers into windowed displays. ] I'd be the first to say walking and drinking is a terrible idea, but I could really use something right now. Come now, you've tried all of these - what's a recommendation or three?
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Follow me. There are a few IPAs here that lend themselves well to an afternoon walk, I think. Not enough to pull one's attention from a conversation, yet a fulfilling experience for the palate.
[ He takes the lead, scooping a water bottle from a fridge on the way, noting the way Kaveh's attention drifts to his surroundings again. The fascination with the folding bags, the automatic doors. Midnight's taking snapshots again. ]
Have you been acclimating all right? Drinks aside, you seem to have been getting accustomed to this place in a way I haven't had to.
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along the way, kaveh catches on a pack of what promises to be mints. he picks it with some measure of ingrained guilt, eyes flitting over the rest of the store before he sequesters it into his palm. ]
Hm? [ kaveh clears his throat. ] Oh, thank you for asking. I'm doing well. Where you come from, the majority of these technological advances must be common place - I still remember you telling me about your break room and its myriad of changes at a touch. But I'm still taking apart things as I go along. I reckon there's still a few months of work to do before I understand enough of this place for my liking. It's the design thinking that we have yet to catch on, in my opinion.
[ kaveh looks to the fridges lining the wall, and allows his hand to sweep over them in demonstration. ] For example, we have ice-boxes for this sort of thing, and some stores keep mist-flowers, or pays a Cryo-vision holder to drop by once in a while to refresh a rune or a seal or two, but nobody's thought of putting everything behind glass and refrigerating it all at once like this. It must be terribly energy-intensive, and the wiring behind it must be fascinating, but someone's thought of it and made it viable. We have all the technology, we just haven't implemented it in this particular format, and I'm examining the culture here from that lens.
[ like the hawkers down the street with their ice-box carts, laughing in the shade with palm fans as they complain about the humidity or the heat, making brisk business with cups of kulfi in little takeaway boxes shaped from sealed palm leaves. kaveh chews the inside of his cheek. ] I'm rambling. But I'm glad all of these things are new and interesting to take apart. It keeps the hands busy.
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[ So, less forgiveness here, more mildly bemused pleasure. (He notes the mints, but that emotion that accompanies it is absolutely indeciperable with no other context, so he tucks it and said context in his metaphorical back pocket for now. ]
I don't pretend to understand everything you've just described, but more societal barriers exist for your vision of a future similar to this one. You've failed to mention which ones. [ ... Midnight laughs. ] And if you'd like for this all to change your world in the way it's shaped this one. And mine, of course. You're right, of course. It's energy-intensive in ways that one could consider prohibitive. Here.
[ And he tucks a can in Kaveh's hand. ]
This one's a cider, not a beer. Pear, if that suits you.
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If I spent time detailing which ones, we'll need more than just a single can of cider. [ with the slow shake of his head. ] You don't want that. I'm not sure if even I want that.
[ but the cider is readily accepted, and welcome. kaveh cracks open the can. the drink is not terribly sweet, not terribly sour. it's not terribly anything, but the acrid taste of alcohol is there, and that, too, is welcome - he follows. ] And what are you drinking?
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[ While he thinks about that, though, he looks over at the open can in Kaveh's hand, then his reaction to it — not at all objectionable, obviously — then reaches down and snags a 6-pack of the same brand. There. More than a single can. It's good to have the option. ]
Been looking into more herbal brews recently, but only for variety's sake. I like fruit in my lighter beers, generally. So... choose for me. This, or this.
[ He'll point at two drinks: one that promises a tropical mango aftertaste and an herbal hibiscus concoction. He'll grab whichever one Kaveh picks. (Or he might just grab both and drink Kaveh's choice first. Why not? Money's no object, after all.) ]
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herbal, he says. the two choices presented to him are in cheerful, terribly impersonal packaging. luckily, kaveh has an opinion on everything. observe: ]
The hibiscus. [ kaveh says, immediately. ] Every fruit in this place tastes artificial regardless, so the mango aftertaste promised by the first one will inevitably be disappointing. It shouldn't even be allowed to be called mango. It's more like the memory of a mango that's been put through a three-dimensional modeling software and then reconstructed by someone who thinks they know what a mango tastes like, but lacks the tastebuds to actually try. Hibiscus, at least, is meant to have a bit of a sour aftertaste. It's terrible in alcohol no matter how you slice it, so you won't be missing out on something better.
[ theory set, kaveh reaches for the hibiscus drink, and picks it up. he hefts it in hand, passes it along to midnight with a quirk of his brow. ] You're not going to grab six of these, too, are you?
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[ Midnight is very rarely so forthcoming about the ways he's aware he can get under other people's skin. It's just funny. Kaveh's so very funny to him. Most people are, but when Midnight can manage to get past the barrier of having to step gently around a stranger... Well, it's simply more fun to be a nuisance, is all.
He scoops up both the herbal and the fruit beer in one hand, but opens the bottle of water first, taking a sip and wincing slightly at how sharp and sweet it tastes. Well... he needed that, apparently. How awful it is for food and drink to taste refreshing. ]
You mentioned you were poor company earlier. Why is that? I can't begin to imagine a reason to think so.
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kaveh cuts himself off. not because the realisation is anything to have a mild crisis over, but because midnight just flinched at drinking water. what manner of man, kaveh thinks, a little despairingly, must you be to live a life where the taste of water has become foreign. the rest of the script practically writes itself: kaveh reaches to filch both beer cans from midnight, an architect's knack for balancing more than his fair lot of things in one hand coming into play with three cans stacked in a single hand, one of which is open - and graciously uses the other hand to tilt the bottom of the bottle that midnight's holding back up to his lips.
bottoms up it goes. ]
One more big sip. Preferably one that drowns you. Oh, I know you, one only gets that odd about the taste of water when it's been at least seventy-two hours without it. Come now, this is happening before you dehydrate yourself again with alcohol. What was this about me being good company?
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Midnight's smile drops, but more into bewilderment than any personal offense, as his precious alcohol disappears from his grip and he is led to water like a burdenbeast. ]
Bit dramatic, isn't it? It's been less than seventy-two hours, I'm sure. [ This is in a self-possessed murmur, less petulant than it is simply a bit puzzled, but he obediently takes another sip. He isn't going to drown himself. His survival instincts might be lacking, but his fear of death is still alive and kicking back there.
But there we are. The flashbang of being cared for out of the blue can't last forever. Levity floods in to fill in the void, fast and loud like a broken sound barrier. ]
I'd insist you were good company, really, on account of your concern for my level of hydration, but I would like my beer back. How much water until I've reached quota, sir?
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the water bottle empties itself into midnight. kaveh observes it with a critical eye, red and sanguine and entirely unimpressed. ] One third of the bottle now, and one more third before we get to city hall. You get your beers back once both those conditions have been fulfilled. [ kaveh is already reaching for another reusable tote bag - he loves these, and more so that they're plain, because they can be painted over and decorated - and begins slipping a few more water bottles in. ... and midnight's beers. ] And caring about your hydration level has nothing to do with good company, and everything to do with preserving what little sanity I have left. This is about the bank, isn't it?
[ - abruptly, kaveh stops himself. and merely stops there, the words bitten off like the heads of truncated snakes. ]
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It isn't, actually, although I do wish I could convince you otherwise. If you acted any more like my mother, you would have written the letter in my... pocket.
[ ... The sentence dies. Lets out air like a sad, half-dead balloon. Midnight thinks back, finds the smooth, flat stop Kaveh's nagging hits, and extrapolates back to this moment fairly quickly.
He looks into his water bottle, then back at the door. The bottle is still two-thirds full, and he never heard the tumblers in the lock clicking into place. Eventually, he lifts the water to his mouth, drains it to half, and recaps it. ]
Let's start walking. Did you need anything else?
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kaveh's breath seethes between his teeth. and then, his brain catches up to him, and he follows the trace of midnight's gaze.
um. ]
Well, no. [ ... with phenomenal self-restraint, just on this side of brittle: ] Why are you looking at the door like that? [ ... with slow, dawning deliberation: ] Does this place lock too?
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[ His hearing has been a little weak, though, so he walks over to try the door... Which swings open as easily as anything. He breathes a little sigh of relief. Well, they're not trapped, at least. ]
We should leave. I don't want this place changing its mind on us, no matter how partial I am to your company.
[ Midnight pushes the door open for Kaveh, leaning his head toward relative freedom. Well... They're not obligated to share at the cost of their freedom, at least, but it seems as though they're not quite off the hook. This is much more preferable to being stuck in a bank vault, though. Midnight doesn't like being trapped in places with others. Or, rather, he doesn't like the idea of others being trapped with him. He's not at all claustrophobic, just... Wary. People should be free to leave him. ]
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You really ought to stop saying that. It gets old, you know. [ is what kaveh says instead, after gauging the moment for safety. because that's certainly what's happening here - the careful picking and choosing of words, and then the dance around a compulsion that is suddenly a third wheel in this entire conversation that kaveh has never been comfortable with. ]
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[ Midnight, on the other hand, is measuring how much truth he can deposit into the conversation with regards to the letter in his pocket so he can satisfy the city's appetite for schadenfreude, relax, and have a normal conversation. He's quite aware that just thinking about this in terms of having a "safe conversation" may inflate the threshold of what the city thinks would suffice, though... ]
I generally use my lies much more wisely. Well, unless it's amusing to lie. I'll make an exception for that.
[ 1/2 ]
[ or rather, kaveh knows his own measure - he is not, in fact, good company on most days, especially not on days where he feels like he's being taken and contorted into a shape not of his own making, and that midnight is saying so despite all evidence to the contrary is a good indication that this compulsion bullshit is - ] And in the case that you are not and this is simply you being compelled to say things you genuinely don't mean to assert as any form of truth, I'd like to point out that I liked it much better when we weren't being emotionally candid and having to consistently swerve around the topic of what's in our pockets-
[ 2/2 ]
this is, in fact, the sound that an anemo slime being stepped on by a cat might possibly make. ]
- the audacity of these people! [ the bright flare of kaveh's temper leaps, ] Who do they think they are to compel me or you to say things we don't want to? Do they think they're gods? Because I happen to know one that's been reduced to a heap of scrap metal in a basement somewhere, and that's exactly what's going to happen to them if this continues.
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me, watching kaveh's drunken ramblings give midnight a minor crisis:
i wish standing man emoji was an emotion one could describe in words other than standing man emoji
HAHAH
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