Exploration Event: Neverwere

[lifeaftr_mods]

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

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LOGS ● OOC ● STORIES ● MAIN NAVIGATION

( CODED BY BOOTYCALL )

Comments

[postictal]

[The lack of specificity is bothering him, to be sure, but at least she answers, and...okay. Good. She's here alone, and she won't be here alone next time, and that's the important thing. Tim blows out a soft huff of a sigh in evident relief, and hands her pen and pick.]

[Surely that's...the end of it. Right?]

Okay. Good. We always play safe spaces, but...probably shouldn't hang around places like this all on your own. Yeah?

[catpiper]

[Who cares about parents and guardians when she's got his autograph?? Pen and pick back in her grubby little fingers, she starts to shove all the items from the floor into her bag without much thought. What's even in here? Who knows.]

This is your favorite place to play, isn't it? I've seen you here a lot.

[P....robably.]

[postictal]

W - uh. We...no?

[No, right? He glances up, surveying the area, squinting, trying to figure out if they've actually played this joint before. He genuinely can't remember. Surely they don't get booked for that many gigs? Or maybe his memory is just...shit? Has it always been shit?]

[After a moment, it occurs to him that he's been frowning at the middle distance for entirely too long, and should probably think of something to say.]

I guess it, uh, all kinda blends together after a while.

[catpiper]

[Maybe it does, who is she to say? She would've thought the band liked it in this area, given the times she's seen them happily play their sets, but maybe she's mistaken. It's not like her memory's clear right now. She must be tired from all that running around.]

Are you going to play here tomorrow?

[postictal]

I, uh -

[He...wow. He doesn't know his own band's schedule. That's pretty crappy of him, huh? He scratches his nose in an attempt to stall the inevitable admission that he doesn't actually know, shooting a look in Jay's direction as though quietly beseeching his help.]

[Jay doesn't notice, and help never comes.]

I don't think so, kiddo. Sorry.

[catpiper]

[That's disappointing. Asking seemed like the best method to figure out their band schedule, instead of using-what? A bulletin board? A weird rock? Just showing up and hoping for the best?

That sucks.]

I want to see you again. [Weh] Are you going to play here in June?

[postictal]

I’ll see if I can work something out. The guys that own this place probably wouldn’t mind it.

[God help him, he has literally no idea if they’re playing in June at all. Why the hell can’t he remember his own band’s damn schedule?]

You...need a ride home or something, buddy?

[catpiper]

[The whole point of her asking about June was because she has a specific date in mind-the 19th. It's weird. She fully expected him to say yes, to have it be on or near that day, because she associates it so strongly with him. She thought it was because they played that day every year. Weird.]

It's okay. I can walk under the lights so nothing scary will get me. I'm going to get cake first.

[Which is on the way? Maybe? It's fine. There's a grocery store, somewhere.]

I'll bring some back to this place, so you can eat it when you play again.

[What's better than stale cake?? Nothing.]

[postictal]

Seriously?

[She wants to walk home, alone, in the middle of the night in Alabama? The thought looks, very reasonably, like it fills him with utter horror. Leaving aside the non sequitur of cake - cake? - he stares at the kid, looking...more than a little bit aghast.]

You - you don't have anyone you can walk home with? Nothing like that?

[catpiper]

I think everyone's asleep.

[Or not with her, in any case. Coming here despite knowing she has to walk home alone shows her dedication to the band, obviously. Remember her and give her front row seats at the bigger venues.]

So it's okay. I know how to listen for weird noises and run very fast.

[postictal]

Kid, there’s no way I’m letting you walk home alone in the summer in Alabama.

[Seriously, fuck this!!! He’s not gonna let this kid hoof it while people try to shoot beer cans off of fence posts, which is a thing he knows for a fact tends to happen on Friday nights. It is Friday, right? Hell if he knows.]

I will drive you home myself if you don’t have anyone else. Okay?

[catpiper]

[She would be foolish to turn down a ride a second time from someone she idolizes so much. It means she can't make a late night grocery store stop, but that's fine. If he's going to be with her, that's worth more than a slice of dessert.]

Okay, we'll go together. I'm good at finding my way home, so it won't take a long time.

[Especially if they're driving. She lives...around? Yeah, she's confident she'll find it going at mach vehicle speed.]

[postictal]

Good. Good, okay. Just...gimme a minute, and I'll finish packing up.

[The assurance that he'll be making sure their tiniest fan gets home safe loosens a coil of something taut around his chest, an invisible line garroted over his lungs.]

I'll be right back, okay?

[catpiper]

[He's gonna turn his back on her and she's gonna get distracted by something shiny, that's the honest truth. That trash can is looking mighty full and there's something glittering in it. Could be glass, could also be a treasure.

But first-]

I can help you 'pack' up. That's something I can do.

[postictal]

[Ah. Well. That's...Tim glances at one of the amps, and figures that it's maybe two-thirds the kid's height. While the mental image of her trying to hoist one all on her own is something to behold, he's pretty sure she'd end up hurting herself.]

Most of these instruments are...pretty heavy and stuff. It's okay. You just...you can sit tight and we'll finish up real quick, okay?

[catpiper]

[She's tough!! She's strong!! She can pitch like the wind!!

But it's also a good thing he keeps her away from the expensive music equipment. She can't pick that up and a strong desire to help doesn't make her physically stronger, so.

Fine, she'll wait.]

Okay, I'll sit here.

[postictal]

Thanks, kid.

[It’s not until he’s boosting an amp into the back of Gladio’s car that it occurs to him that he’d been far more persistent than might be typical or even fucking required of him. It’s not necessarily his business that the kid likes walking home from concerts. So why’s he give a damn?]

[Chara, he tells himself. It’s the same instinct that drove him to them. Has to be.]

[He takes brisk inventory, claps Jay companionably on the shoulder, and heads back to his tiniest fan.]

Sorry. Didn’t think it’d take long.

[catpiper]

[When Tim's out of sight, she patiently waits on that floor for about a minute. Maybe two. The point is, she did her best, and as the room starts to empty out with the most of the patrons heading home or to whatever other venues are going on in this small town, she starts to explore.

It's not a big space, so she really just hobbles around to the stage, sits on the edge, gets bored, pops back down, gets back up, hurries off the side and-

Well, the age honored tradition of etching your name into walls and floors when someone isn't looking seems to be a habit she's fully embraced. On the side of the stage, she writes a quick 'Ren' and doodles a small cat face next to it. Right into the wall. Incredible.

And that bit of vandalism ends just as Tim comes back into view. She wasn't doing anything, don't look at her pen? It's fine.]

It's okay because you came back. [That's the important part!! She doesn't have to be alone.] This place is fun, so it didn't feel like a long time.

[postictal]

[Honestly, if he notices it, he doesn't find it very objectionable. A name signed by a cat face is far less offensive than most of the shit he tends to see coloring the walls of venues like this one; which is to say, it's vastly preferable to yet another iteration of TRAVIS SUCKS COCK, or whatever the kids think it's funny to scribble onto the walls these days.]

Yeah? What were you doing?

[He, uh...notices the pen now.]

[catpiper]

I wrote my name so you wouldn't forget.

[Because this might be the last time they can have a one on one conversation like this! He's a busy musician, living his best music life, and while she plans to come to every single show until her dying day, gobbling up every CD with her allowance money like the heathen she is, she doesn't know if he'll have time to speak to her. Names are easy to forget, Tim!!! Don't 4get hers. ]

[postictal]

["Ren," with a cat face.]

[It's...cute, really. God, she really is young. She was perfectly content to just wander down the streets all on her own? Where are her parents? Did they allow this? Jesus christ.]

Ren, huh? That's your name?

[catpiper]

[She's fine. It's whatever. All she cares about is this band-that's the entire focus of her young life anyway. Who needs parents?? She can take rides from strangers and get midnight cake. This is the best life.]

Yes, it has three letters, like 'Tim' so you won't forget.

[She distinctly remembers drawing two characters for her name, instead of using three letters, but this is Alabama and that's a dumb thought. Three letters it is.]

It's easy.

[postictal]

[It’s easy. He can remember. He can remember just fine, because this isn’t a universe where Timothy Wright has woken with weeks bled out of his skull, blinking against the pressure of a headache comprised of everything he can’t remember. This isn’t a universe where Timothy Wright occasionally squints because he cannot remember his own name. This isn’t that universe.]

[So why does he feel like he should write the name down somewhere, in case he forgets?]

[A shake of his head. It doesn’t matter.]

Pretty name. [Is that...is that all he meant to say? No - ]

You ready to go?

[catpiper]

[It's hard for her to believe it's pretty. It's just a name-one she was given from some people-

Who she doesn't see anymore? She's going to a different home, maybe? This is going to be a rough car ride that's for sure. It's easy to find her way home from the sidewalks, almost like second nature, but now that she has to think up directions without being about to rely on chalk cats, it gets tough.

But, oh well! Time to go! She starts walking towards the door, ready for their incredible adventure.]

Yes, we'll go 'home'. To that place.

[postictal]

[Thank god. Tim waves his bandmates farewell, fishing his keys from the pocket of his jeans. He holds the door open for her and starts scouring the parking lot and its wash of orange streetlights for his car.]

[He flicks the button, and a car chirps somewhat distantly. He thrusts his hands back into his pockets and begins to walk.]

What's your address?