lifeaftr | Exploration Event: Neverwere

Entry tags:

Exploration Event: Neverwere

EXPLORATION EVENT: NEVERWERE

Who: Everyone!
What: Your wildest dreams come true!
When: May 15th to May 18th
Where: Ziziphus, those still on Ensō...and Mu
Warnings: Mark as needed!

Then Know That My Life Was Just a Killer Dream
You can find most of the information you need in the OOC info post! In the meantime, feel free to use this log as a catch-all for your dream worlds, as well as detailing your efforts to free one another. Whether they're on Ziziphus or Ensō at the time of the dreams' capture, your character is free to access as many dreams as you like, as the interlocking mental landscape allows for that sort of crossing over apropos of nothing. And time, of course, is very fluid in dreams - many days, months, and years can transpire in a matter of mere minutes.

Will you fight your way free from Ziziphus's vines or Mu's thrall, or are you content to die in your sleep?

Remember to let us know if your character dies during this event!

Event Timeline

[ ♆ ] May 15th: The vines make their move, ensnaring characters in ideal fantasy worlds
[ ♆ ] May 17th: The Storyteller will make contact with those they can, as well as issue information and a potential solution
[ ♆ ] May 18th: Those that have not freed themselves from the vines or from Mu will suffer a death

LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ This place is strange; an endless plain of darkness, dotted here and there by tilted fragments of another world. A sliver of a pale palace, the lanternposts of a sleepy town, fungal growths and strange glowing plants and the shore of a lake. A metal bridge, stretching to nowhere.

Sometimes there are other people; they don't stray beyond those fragments. Some reoccur, over and over. One is dressed in red, wielding a needle and thread; her voice is sharp and often hard, but not cruel. She speaks about the kingdom, about responsibility, about taking up a great burden.

"You could do it, if you had the will."

Another is blue, sometimes with a mask, sometimes not. His voice is soft; gentle and warm. He speaks about the wonder of the ruins, their beauty and their danger.

"Is it that, just faintly, you can still hear the echo of the bells?"

Eventually, no matter where you go, you come to the center. To an iron bench surrounded by drifting lumaflies, and to the huge, curved form of a cracked sphere.

The Knight is likely to be asleep, but sometimes they rouse themselves from their dozing state. They're slow on the uptake; they seem to have forgotten mostly how to speak with their hands, instead attempting to 'speak' in the same language the people dotted among the ruins do. The strangest thing is that it works, somewhat; they're capable of making sound. Small words like wait and home and hello.

Other times, they might just stare up, clearly a little confused as to what you're doing here. Did you need them for something? ]

[This world is odd. Not necessarily bad, just...odd. Ammy feels slightly like she's been shrunk by the Lucky Mallet again, but no. No, this is another world entirely that she's entered, and not the world of the Storyteller, either. A dream, but not the same as the ones her sibling god projects. Ammy treks cautiously and slowly, taking in the sights and the insectoid people around.

Where is she? Whose world is this? She has an idea, given the look of the various villagers and other people in this world and the visions that flicker before her eyes, but she doesn't see the little bug she's specifically looking for...not for a while. Only when she has prowled about for some time does Ammy find who she is seeking, moving over to the resting Knight when she sees them. Lowering her head, she gives them a careful sniff before nudging her wet nose against their face gently.

What are you doing down there, little friend?]

[ The Knight is slow to respond when they're nudged; they lift their hands, gently patting at this sudden interruption of their nap in sleepy curiosity before attempting to sit up.

They know who this is, though they don't quite know what she would be doing here in the abyss. Beings of light and beings of darkness are not meant to meet, except as enemies.

But here she is, regardless. ]

Hello.

[ They have no voice; they cannot conceive what their own voice might sound like. It's a soft, garbled murmur that sounds an awful lot like the voices Ammy might have heard earlier among the ruins; someone else's sounds.

They tilt their head in clear curiosity, tired though they are. Why come here? they seem to be asking. ]

[Blinking, because she did not expect such a voice to echo past her ears, Ammy flicks them once and stares around the dark halls. She honestly isn't sure why she's here either, but there feels to be something very...off about this place. It feels like the dreamscape of the island some newcomers first visit before entering the world of Lifeaftr properly. So, in a whispery voice like theirs, Ammy responds. She has a feeling that writing now wouldn't translate as well...though she loathes speaking so very much. Oh well.]

A dream? [She questions them, looking around slowly with a sway of her tail.]

Dream...Home.

[ The Knight has a limited vocabulary, even in a dream; their imagination doesn't stretch that far, apparently. They kick their feet and gesture expansively at the darkness all around. ]

Birthplace, [ the small voice murmurs, and the darkness begins to take on a texture, especially around the bench and that broken sphere. Light from some unseen source glints off countless masks, like the Knight's - but all broken, all empty. It feels uncomfortably like bone. ]

[Home? This place? This place is where her small, sweet friend was born? Ammy peers through the encasing darkness, the gleam of white from other, broken masks like Knight's casts ghastly shadows here and there with their jagged horns. All are still, all are empty. This cannot be a place of birth, of life, it seems more like...like a graveyard. Ammy's ears fold back, sadness filling her dark eyes as she lowers her head, uttering out a soft whine.

She won't necessarily force them, but this dark place reminds her too much of the depths of the cursed Ark of Yamato, where the God of Darkness himself, Yami, dwelled...ages ago, back in Nippon. For a moment, she recalls the monster's image, and could have sworn she saw the glow of red from the markings cast into the shell of its armor in the blackness. Ammy shudders, the fur on her back standing up.]

Can you go elsewhere? [Are they even allowed? There must be somewhere else that's not like this here in this world. Somewhere else that they can not be surrounded by such an oppressive sense of...sorrow.]

[ They study her expression and her movements, and then nod, slowly. ] Yes.

[ They hop off the bench finally, a little crackle of bone coming from underfoot, and begin to walk. If Amaterasu follows, it's not long before the darkness gives way to a pale blue light, and the shores of a tranquil lake.

The water stretches out in every direction. The masked figure in blue, with a soft voice, is here too; they sit, looking out at the water.

The Knight sits, too, and looks at her. Inviting her to sit as well.

(There is no place free from sorrow; their life has been shaped by it, defined by it. But this is one of the few memories of their recent life not dragged down by that enduring sadness.) ]

Friend, [ they murmur. ]

[The crack and shifting of bone under her paws isn't exactly new, but it certainly is unsettling as well as uncomfortable in a variety of ways. Amaterasu doesn't enjoy this place, and it's easy enough to tell - her tail is tucked between her legs and her head is low, tongue flicking out over her lips as her ears are flattened against her skull. This place is too reminiscent of a much more wicked place she knows...so Amaterasu isn't at all fond of it. The pressing weight of sorrow and ill-omen is smothering. She has to get out of here. It's like a Cursed Zone, bearing down on her and sapping her very strength second by second.

So, the more relaxing lakefront is a much more pleasant sight, and she seems to exhale the moment she can breathe a less oppressive air. It's far more peaceful here, and she sits when bid to, laying down beside the tiny Knight to catch her breath. Looking to where they gesture, she nods her head and seems to smile.]

Tell me? [She's asking if they can tell her about their friend there - she has heard so few stories of other people's homes, the friends and families left behind, that she can't help but be curious. Besides, if this is what can make her friend here recall a moment of joy in their life, then that will make her happy as well.]

Storyteller. Explorer. Kind. [ They lean against the wolf, almost subconsciously aware that if they were to do the same to this memory, it would fade.

Dreams are strange things, sometimes too real to bear, sometimes slipping away. They are careful to preserve this one, to stay a while longer. Like a child asking for five more minutes of sleep, pulling the covers over their head. ]

Very old. From long ago. [ They miss him, that much is certain. There's a certain ache to the words, to this clear memory. ] Long journey. Task complete. Resting now.

(no subject)

mamaterasu - 2018-06-17 23:31 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

lightlessfuture - 2018-06-24 06:29 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

mamaterasu - 2018-06-27 20:13 (UTC) - Expand

[ he's been wandering in the darkness of someone else's dream for what feels like a long time, now. Gloved hands touch worn-down lanterns, boots shift against the ground where many before him have gone.

It is...quiet. And in the center of it all, a small figure, resting against a bench. Slumped as if sleeping, or sad. The world feels...larger here, though. Otus has to climb onto the bench to sit beside this other being. To sit beside his friend. Maybe to figure out what's going on.

The voices, sharp, soft, and waning, echo around him. Otus looks off to the lumaflies-- to the gentle warmth of their glow, and then to the Knight, waiting as if the Knight would just start explaining, but...that wouldn't happen. But maybe he can just be here, as the knight has been for him. ]

[ It takes a while for them to react, unlike their usual quick movements in the waking world. People sitting beside them, the world moving around them while they stay still, untouched by time; it feels natural.

(It feels lonely.)

Eventually, they shake their head slowly, lifting it as they come out of their apparent deep sleep, turning it to look at their friend. ]

Otus?

[ The voice - the voice is strange. It sounds too much like the voices of those people strewn among the ruins; the Knight has never had a voice, so how would they know what theirs might be like? They mimic the sounds of others, to create something else.

But it's still speech. It's still something they're incapable of, in the waking world. They tilt their head in obvious curiosity.

They're not quite sure what he's doing here, but they seem to be happy he is. ]

[ Otus blinks, looking around-- that...voice? He'd never heard the Knight speak verbally, and...he never really needed to. Content to respect and appreciate his small friend however the Knight wanted to be. If...he wanted to speak? He absolutely could. Otus cracks a smile and scoots closer to his friend, legs dangling off the bench.

To be completely honest, Otus has never known what his own voice sounded like, either, so Knight's voice is not as peculiar to his ears as one might think.

The owl looks around. It's dark...what is this place? ]

[ The Knight studies Otus' face, reads the confusion in his movements. They look around, too, at the familiar darkness, and gesture encompassingly. ]

Home. Born.

[ There's a hint of authority in those soft murmurs; the voice of someone they have only heard in dreams. No cost too great.

Where there was an endless plane of darkness, there's now masks upon masks. All broken, all cracked. Different shapes, but the same size.

They make another gesture at the great egg, at the broken masks underfoot. Their head droops in apparent sadness. ]

Family.

[They don't, but somehow, Chara always winds up here anyway. It's a source of mild interest to them; how each and every corridor, each sharp drop, each winding staircase leads right back... here. Back to a lonely bench, back to the tiny creature occupying it. They've never been awake before.

They are now. Looking up with clear confusion as to why someone is occupying a space that, prior to their slumber, wasn't occupied at all. Head tilting slowly to the sie, Chara stares back, not particularly inclined to start the conversation.

If the lack of inclination feels wrong, well, that's someone else's problem.]

[ Chara doesn't ask anything of them; not to wake them from slumber, not to ask about the bits and pieces of their world they've no doubt seen much of by now, in their wanderings.

It's peaceful. The Knight feels like they could sleep again, and they wouldn't be judged; and that thought compels voices from far away. From their memories. ]

What compels its climb out of the darkness? What compels its return to this sacred kingdom--

--eturn to darkness, little ghost. Leave us in peace--

[ Without moving, the world changes. They're remembering something else; a dream within dreams. What is real? What is not? Does it even matter?

They are very, very tired. They have a long way to go, and so much to do. Such a burden to carry.

But they feel they owe their guest (?) an explanation. So they gesture expansively around them, to this space filled with light. ]

Dream, [ their voice (?) murmurs, quiet and soft. ] Vessel. Inside.

[ It's a little unclear what they're trying to communicate, with those last two words. It seems their vocabulary is limited even within this space. ]

[The world twists and swirls, transitions from deep grays and blues to warm creams and browns with light strewn undertones. Chara barely bats an eyelash, eyes drifting across a space that reminds them, somehow, of a corridor bathed in golden light. It smells like bones.

But then, it doesn't, really. How can they be reminded of somewhere they've never been? Brow furrowing, Chara's gaze returns to the Knight, listening with no signs of comprehension.]

I don't understand. [Not just the last two words.]

No? [ The Knight stares, conveying curiosity in the tilt of their head. For all they know, right now, this is simply - a pleasant dream. An abyss in which memory lingers. A place of rest; somewhere to sleep, now their task is done, now that the light is destroyed. ]

Why?

[In contrast Chara is both fooled-- and willing to be, quirking a brow at the small creature.]

Because your words don't make sense. Perhaps if you try to explain each?

[ The Knight hums gently (the mimicked sounds of people they've heard, their little habits) in thought, kicking their feet. How to explain? ]

Dream. Rest.

[ They remember...the Radiance. The light, being consumed by darkness. Sleep, at last (so tiring to be alive, to keep pushing forward in pursuit of duty). They sort of gesture. ]

Forever dream. Last dream. Ending. My ending.

Purpose is...vessel. Keep...dream inside. Light inside. Light...sickness. Plague. Light makes...dreams hurt.

[ They look out at the dreamscape, bowing their head after a moment, as if remembering something tiring or sad. ]

Now dreams...no more hurting. Light destroyed. Before, so much sacrifice. Didn't work. Sibling tried. Too much light inside. Had to...

[ They trail off. There's a lot of thoughts in that head of theirs, and not much voice to get them all out. But it's fairly obvious what might have happened to the sibling they speak of, in their sorrowful, stilted words. ]

Journey, over. Duty, over. Now end. Now sleep. [ they 'say', haltingly. ]

[It's all a little clearer, now. Chara nods along, filling the gaps in the explanation as it continues. The little bug is... sleeping due to a great burden, a hereditary one. Some kind of light that's harmful, wrong. It's their duty. Was, their sibling's duty.

But their sibling is gone, now. Chara doesn't need the words to understand that, chest constricting with... sympathy?

No. Empathy. They can relate, somehow. Chara has no idea why. It's-- unsettling.]

I see. [Their lips purse, not quite happy with all the conclusions they've come to.] Must you sleep, though?

Your life doesn't have to end, simply because your journey is over.

(no subject)

lightlessfuture - 2018-06-12 13:38 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

achievementhunter - 2018-06-17 05:44 (UTC) - Expand

[ It's so dark around here. He just keeps on walking, curiously watching his surroundings as they come. He tries to ask the people where he is, but they're gone before he has any answers. It's kind of frustrating.

He calls out in "hello"s and "is anybody there"s. Man, he must've taken a wrong turn somewhere, because he certainly can't remember travelling through this town.

But he soon spots a familiar figure, and the fact that he can hear them speak words doesn't even register as weird.]

Hey, bud!

[ Magnus' voice easily rouses them from slumber; they lift their head with sleepy curiosity, wondering what he's doing here in a place like this. A place that, as far as they know, is...for resting. A reward, almost, for a wearisome task completed.

They move sluggishly, inching themselves to the edge of the bench closest to him, tilting their head up (and up) to look at him properly. Only polite, even if they are tired. ]

Hello.

Resting too? [ He doesn't look like it, but they certainly wouldn't mind if they had company. Brief moments of peace had been rare in their life; sharing it with someone who had only been kind to them would be a pleasure. ]

Oh, nah. [ There's something really peaceful about this place, weird ghosting people aside. He feels like he could chill here.]

I think I'm lost? [~~He doesn't remember walking here. What was he doing before? Why does this whole conversation feel unnatural?~~ He must've taken a wrong turn on his way to make a special delivery. It wouldn't be the first time, but hopefully the client won't be too mad about the delay.]

[ The Knight hums thoughtfully (someone else's voice, a mapmaker they followed by the sound of his song) and looks around. Darkness stretches in every direction. ]

Lost? Going where? [ Maybe they can take him there. It wouldn't be a bother. It seems perfectly natural that he should be here, looking for something. ~~It's not. Though Magnus is nice, he doesn't belong here. Not in this place, not in this world.~~ ] Can help.

Edited 2018-06-24 06:32 (UTC)

Huh...

[ He opens his mouth to respond. But-- no words come to mind. No town. No person to see. No direction to head on.

There's a vacancy, a lack of anything. It feels...

He doesn't know how it feels.]

I don't...kknnnow?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Exploration Event: Neverwere

The Knight | OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

-casually slides in here-

\o/

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

Re: The Knight | OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject