Event Log: Memories Past

[hadrielmods]

Who: Everyone
What: Memory Share Event!
Where: All around the city
When: November 14th-20th
Warnings: Please remember to tag all warnings for memory shares!

Have you ever looked through someone else's eyes? Heard through their ears, spoken with their tongue? The gods have tried to teach some of you empathy, but it's time you learned the hard way, exactly what the others here have been through. For a week, every time you brush skin to skin with someone, you'll experience a memory of theirs: happy, sad, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it feels real to you.

The first touch may come as a surprise- it lasts only for a split second but may feel like an eternity, where you're trapped in someone else's memory. After that, it could be more expected, and some may even figure out how to control it and share specific scenes from their past with others. Or, you might wear gloves and long sleeve shirts for awhile, nobody's judging.

Maybe curtail the handholding for awhile- or go right ahead, if that's your thing. After all, you never really know somebody unless you've walked a mile in their shoes, right?

► This log covers November 14th-20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you die in a memory, you don't die in real life, but if you do die in real life please let us know here.

Comments

Pell | OTA

[pellameno]

Pell doesn't stray far from west island most days -- at his house of course, with his little adopted family, or at the clinic where he spends the majority of his time. He's always available as a healer and now for lessons in either first aid or healing itself. With the event the latter is tricky, but he could share a healing-specific memory on first touch to hopefully make it work.

When he's not working he can be found... also working, technically, but something more familiar and relaxing. He has a garden on the north island, vegetables and herbs that he tends lovingly, and after minding it he has a tendency to visit friends with a bag of produce, because feeding people is a valid way to show your love, okay? He will always need a boat ride between west and north islands, being too afraid of the water to go it alone.

Although the event makes it involuntary, Pell's no stranger to sharing memories. He can do it all the time, if he so wanted, and in fact has in Hadriel many times. That doesn't mean he's comfortable with the randomness of this, that an accidental brush means he doesn't know what the other will see. Some of his life has been... traumatic, after all.

1. cal riding up to the cevarro farm, asking for shelter and joining pell's family for dinner
2. inception in saltrock, and a glimpse of althaia, the changing (cw: body horror)
3. a lesson with orien, the first time he used his new abilities to move a glass across the table
4. pell's first grissecon, or magic orgy (cw: blurry sexual content)
5. encountering the irakka and deciding to save cobweb, and injured prisoner of war
6. discussing with cal whether or not they're in love, potentially immediately followed by:
7. his murder/death scene (cw: violence)

Pick a memory and I'll reply with it! I can be reached on plurk @ cuddlebug or on discord @ Ana#1461 for plotting/questions or something custom! ]

[itsnotaonesie]

[Perhaps we'll pick a memory later. Maybe body horror, that's fun, but for NOW, rampant stupidity. Stupidity in the form of Peter hanging around the house and doing mundane house things while fully decked out in his Spider-Man gear. Apparently he's heard about the skin to skin memory thing already and is taking zero chances of people getting into his brain.

Aaaand looking like an absolute assclown in the process. It probably doesn't help that he's hanging upside down from the ceiling and reading his phone in the living room. If he's gonna go weird, he's gonna go full weird, okay. That's how Spidey do.]

[pellameno]

[ Peter. Peter you are a sweet precious creature and Pell loves you but you are really weird sometimes. At least it doesn't phase him anymore to walk into a room and find the human hanging out on the ceiling. He simply blinks once, and points to his own temple curiously. ]

Don't you find all the blood rushes to your head like that, Peter?

[itsnotaonesie]

[Peter looks up from his phone and gives Pell a little shrug]

It does, but it takes a while. I'm actually trying to see how long I can do this for before I either pass out or my nose starts bleeding. So far I'm two hours in and feelin' pretty good.

[pellameno]

That's far more than I could handle. Please do call for help if you fall directly on your head and concuss yourself.

[ He doesn't continue to the kitchen, though, still having questions. He gets the spider outfit now, but. ]

Is the full costume really necessary at home? Mask and all?

[itsnotaonesie]

I will! Unless I'm unconscious. Not much I can do then.

It probably isn't necessary at all, but I'm not taking any chances. I don't need people getting all up in my brain business, know what I mean?

[pellameno]

Then if I walk in and find you unconscious I'll try to keep the suit on, but I make no promises if you're bleeding.

Unfortunately, I'm very familiar. Both with Hadriel's tricks and my own kind's. But no one's going to grab you for a hug right now, I think we'd all rather keep the transfers to a minimum or nonexistent.

sure gimmeeeee... 2 :3 | boat ride

[redwinekindofgirl]

Hold the boat, hold the boat!

[Julie comes racing down the shore, though the boat itself isn't looking set to move away just yet. Her running is likely unnecessary, given Pell's wish to not set out onto the water by himself, but she comes to a stumbling stop a few feet away from him with a grin.]

Hey, Pell. You heading out? Mind if I join?

cw: body horror, and gimmie 3!

[pellameno]

Hey, Julie. Are you a strong swimmer?

[ He's mostly kidding. He can wrangle a boat, if it was an emergency he'd manage but really he simply prefers to have company just in case. The seas look pretty calm today, they'll manage fine.

Pell stands up, offering Julie an hand to climb in without realizing that's a mistake -- he hasn't had any accidental encounters yet. Unfortunately she either forgets as well or is comfortable enough with him to not be on high alert over an event happening. As soon as she touches him, Hadriel is gone.

--

It is the morning of Pell’s Harhune, his inception. He’s woken to be pampered by two attendants, skin oiled and perfumed, his long dark hair brushed til it shines and then done and adorned with flowers, and is dressed in a robe of sombre black linen. Two more arrive, taller figures with seemingly more importance from their attire, green and gold and adorned with jewelry. Julie may recognize the one as Seel, still with the beads and tassels in his multicolored hair, but everyone has the same ambivalent male-female countenance as the Pell that Julie knows. The other, who passes him a goblet with foul murky liquid, seems to have great authority. Pell drinks it down and immediately feels sedated, and needs to be aided as he’s led out of the building he was in.

Saltrock is a small town up in the mountains, everything hand built and rough but it has its charm. And it seems there’s some kind of celebration going on, but Pell is afraid. He lets himself be guided to a carriage adorned with flowers and ribbon, and as they ride towards the Nayati the townspeople sing and call to him joyfully. It would seem whatever’s going on is about Pell, and there’s some pleasure in that, but it’s overwhelmed by the uncertainty of what is to come.

When they arrive at the Nayati he nearly has to be carried, feeling drunk from the philtre and ill from fear. The building seems to be made for ceremony, seats surrounding what may have been an altar, and other hara taking their places. Pell is led towards a chalked pattern on the altar, propped between the two larger figures, and Seel grabs a staff and strikes the ground. The crowd rises and begins to chant. “Harhune! Harhune!” Pell’s fear grows. Seel pushes him onto his knees.

“Today we witness the inception of Pellaz Unhar. He is deemed fit by myself, Seel Griselming and my colleague Orien Farnell. Does the Harhune take place?” He asks the crowd, who respond with a resounding “Aye!”

The two tall hara begin to anoint him, partially disrobing him before the assembly to write symbols on his skin. It’s all beyond Pell’s understanding, except that he has to do this. And it’s only once they’ve finished that two more hara enter, these of even more seeming importance. They are dressed in white and gold; one holds a metal dish and the other a blade.

“Pellaz, be still,” Seel tells him, and Pell’s eyes close as the blade is raised. There’s a shearing sound, and when he opens his eyes again his hair, his one true vanity, still adorned with the flowers his attendants put in, is in the dish. Pell begins to shiver with fear, now.

There is the distinct sense that nothing is over, not even close. One more has yet to enter and does so now, a mighty figure in pure white, his red hair flaming around him. He has an aura of power that even human Pell can feel, and he is terrified. The others gasp and Seel sounds shocked when he utters, “Him? Him?!”

His companion at the start, still at Pell’s side, merely says, “Yes. I know.”

The congregation is now kneeling before this new har, but as he takes his place Seel and the other pull Pell up and lead him over. He introduces himself as Thiede, and orders the pair to disrobe him completely. Pell can only stare at this new figure, who asks him, “Are you here of your own free will?”

“Yes,” Pell hears himself answer, and Thiede orders him drugged again. The world goes black.

Things skip ahead, or so it would seem, as the memory picks up with Pell surging awake, in terrible pain. He screams, a high terrified sound, clutching at his abdomen for the twisting in his gut. The next stab of it makes him spasm so hard he’s flung from the bed to the floor, but Pell can hardly see from the pain. Everything is blurry and spinning, but he starts to crawl, seeking help. Trying to call out for someone to come, but he can’t get enough air.

He seems to hit something, hand slapping a cool smooth surface, and he sees something move out of the corner of his eye. Turning to see what he’s touching, what the movement is, he finds a monster. No… it screams and recoils as he does. He’s looking in a mirror.

Pell’s half-naked scalp gleams damp and white, paler than he used to be. A long matted plume
of hair covers half his face -- they’ve only cut the sides -- but that face is bloated and grey, the eyes rimmed with red, the mouth purpled and slack. All that he can see of himself is bruised and discolored, swollen in odd places. His left arm is nearly twice the size it should be. Pell tears his eyes away from the sight and wretches, spitting up blood and mucus. He can’t scream anymore, but someone is coming.

Someone calls out, “Get him back on the bed!” but the voice is unrecognizable.

A softer tone: “It’s started.” And the memory fades out. ]

[redwinekindofgirl]

[She doesn't even think as she reaches out to grab the offered hand, having not learned yet to be wary of everyone, but she could not regret anything more. Julie doesn't feel her body hit the bottom of the boat as she loses her footing, tied up in the flashes of memory as she is, and in return--

The car screeches to a stop, and Julie's head snaps forwards. She smacks her nose against the seat in front of her and tenderly feels it to see if it's bleeding as she slumps back. Between the front seats, she can just about see out of the front window of the car.

They have just crested a hill. Across the road, directly in front of them, is a chain meant for shredding tyres, and in front of the chain is a wall of wrecked cars extending across all eight lanes of the freeway. Beyond that, across what was once farmers fields, is a war zone. The shopping district has been reduced to burned out shells; the only vehicles in the parking lots are tanks, some with their turrets blown off, some lying on their sides. And behind that, the tall, skeletal remains of concrete buildings engulfed in the white flames of Fire Church phosphorous, left as a warning... or a monument.

A small voice comes from the twelve year old. "Why?" she says, but gets no answer.

Her father leaves the car with a shotgun. Julie cranes her neck around, but she can't see anything moving down in the valley. Her mother calls out--

"John, let's just go around. We can take the back roads until I-5 clears up." 'John', her father, says nothing. He's assumed the pose of a trained soldier, in procedure mode, locked into patrolling the area until he's certain there's no threat. Her mother calls out again, then sighs and grabs her own gun. She turns to Julie. "Stay here."

Julie stays. She watches. She watches her parents argue, too focused on it to see the person creeping up towards the car. The window beside her smashes, an arm reaches through and pulls the door open and Julie just manages to grab her shotgun as two hands grab her ankles and swing her out of the truck. Her head hits the ground, her vision swims and she sees the man is not a man at all but a boy. Just a boy, barely older than her.

She shoots him in the chest.

Everything moves slowly as she drags herself back to her feet. Her parents run over, but she hears them talk as if through a long tunnel, or under water. She's watching the boy, watching as his last breaths leak out like a popped bicycle tyre. Her father bends down, picks up the gun she doesn't remember dropping, and puts it back in her hands.

Something about this infuriates her mother-- "Are you serious? Are you fucking serious, John?"

Julie is still watching the boy. His eyes seem to vibrate as the colour drains out of them.

"It's her third kill and we can't keep hiding this part from her, she needs to face it."

She's twelve years old! She doesn't need to face this yet!"

A wet-sounding breath attempts to fill the boy's chest. Julie's mother steps forwards, but Julie's finger is already squeezing the trigger of the shotgun. The boy's head explodes in a spray of blood. The girl says nothing as she secures her gun inside the truck again and buckles herself in, staring blankly forwards as her parents join her and they move off.

"Hey, Julie," her mother says. She points to a flag as they pass it, the letters fading but one standing out clearly. "R."--

She doesn't know what Pell saw. What she realises when she snaps out of it is that she suddenly hurts in places she didn't before, and her stomach feels as if it's about to crawl out of her throat.]

I think I'm going to be sick. [Julie whispers, struggling into an upright position to lean over the side of the boat and breathe in deeply, trying to wipe the image of her-- of Pell's face in the mirror out of her mind.]

[pellameno]

[ Pell looks shell-shocked once the vision trance passes, his eyes wide and startled. But whatever Julie saw... Pell has some ideas and they're all troubling. He reaches out again, this time careful to only grip her shoulder over her shirt. ]

I'm sorry, we both forgot. What did you see..?

[redwinekindofgirl]

Um.

[She flinches under the touch to her shoulder, but when nothing else happens she straightens herself up and pushes herself onto the nearest seat in the boat.]

Uh, you, but... ugh, god, it wasn't you. There was some kind of ritual, a--... and you were in so much pain, Pell. God.

[pellameno]

[ Pell lets his hand drop once it's clear she's alright, and when he realizes what she saw he looks pained all over again but this time apologetically. That's not... a pleasant memory. At least it sounds like it cut off in a bad spot and didn't show her what came after, he might have died of embarrassment on the spot. For the most part, he doesn't feel that way often anymore, but Julie is practically his sister. ]

Althaia -- the changing. The blood of my kind redesigns the body quite a bit and birth is never pleasant, I suppose.

[ He tries to think of it as rebirth rather than a series of agonizing mutations, because he doesn't regret it. But Julie's right, it was horrible. And he remembers that glimpse in the mirror... Pell shakes his head as if to ward it off, considering Julie again. What he saw. Maybe she doesn't want to know? ]

3 maybe?

[unknowable]

[Adam spends a decent amount of time at the clinic. Usually he's doing the small tasks that need to be done - inventory, cleaning, delivering supplies. But he's not the sort of person to pass up the chance to learn something new, and especially not something that would be incredibly useful to know.

His first aid skills are solid by now, after all the time he's had to learn, but what he's never quite been able to figure out is whether he can use his own magic for healing. So he's asked for a demonstration - or an explanation, at least. Some idea of what Pell does, how it works.

It probably won't help him figure out his own magic, but it's something.]

Do you need an injury to demonstrate on?

[He's probably got a bruise someplace...]

switching to 5 as discussed, and the forest sacrifice for adam?

[pellameno]

[ Pell nods thoughtfully, not that he wants to hurt either of them for these purposes but it would help. ]

If you think you can sense what I'm doing, yes. If you were har I could tell if you're channeling the proper energies, but our magic is not alike. It's best to see it, to feel what you're doing... and even being told I was doing it right my first time healing practically was a learning experience. I could cut myself? Just a scratch.

[ No, Adam says, he's got bruises, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal one on his forearm like he bumped his wrist. That'll do just fine, Pell tells him, and says to breathe and focus on the sensation -- and he doesn't have to touch to heal, but it helps with humans especially. And it's instinctive, as he's found it soothes the patient. So he doesn't even think about it now, but the second they make contact the clinic fades away.

--

Pell and Cal, a blond har possibly recognizable from his stint in Hadriel, are on horseback. They’re being led towards a town in the distance, and Pell feels distinctly uneasy about their escort. The feeling intensifies as they get up close, and it becomes clear that this is no town after all -- it’s a stinking husk of one, made sadder by the fact that the humans who used to live here must have been decent and affluent. The houses, now destroyed and crumbling, look like they used to be charming. And ‘stinking’ is literal. The abandoned streets are full of trash and corpses, human and animal. Pell feels his stomach turn as they’re led through the streets to the town hall, somehow still intact. A sign out front declares this place Phesbe.

The hara here don’t look much like what those in Hadriel have gotten people accustomed to. They share the same androgynous features, but none of the long-flowing hair of Pell and his fellows. No, these hara look more like soldiers, their hair shorn all or shaved, their skin tattooed, and all in black leather armor. They allow Pell and Cal to gather some things from their pack horse before heading inside, and the town hall reeks of sickness and smoke. These people clearly care for nothing except themselves and their horses; this town is just a pit stop of ruin.

“We are fighters, not thinkers,” the har who led them inside says bluntly. He looks like their leader. “We have no time for Saltrock fancies here.”

“Quite,” Cal comments dryly, but Pell’s gaze drifts away.

He catches sight of someone lying motionless in an area set up as sleeping quarters, a hideously emaciated har with dark hair and filthy clothing. The leader catches him staring. “Leg broken,” he explains. “The bone came through. Time says he might not heal.” But he draws them away then, and the memory seems to skip ahead, fading and blurring but not quite ending. And then Pell is approaching that huddled mass of har, drawing the blanket away. The smell of sickness and rot intensifies.

“Why have you no healers?” Pell asks, trying not to gag.

The har only glares at him, either uncaring or wishing for death rather than aid. Pell reaches for his leg, and his whole arm goes numb with cold. The pain and infection, the brokenness of it makes him want to pull back. He doesn’t. But it makes him nauseous and he isn’t sure where to start.

“Why bother?” Cal asks at his side, but Pell ignores the question. He’s going to bother. “I suppose you are going to invoke water elementals to get rid of the dirt?” he continues, cheerfully sarcastic.

Pell ignores Cal again, the tone making him angry, and speaks directly to the injured har. “Have you water here?”

“Don’t waste your time playing with me!”

“...find some water, Cal. Please.”

Cal sighs. “All right, all right. If you must. Don’t make a habit out of this kind of thing, will you!” And then stomps away to find water. Pell turns back to the har, speaks to him softly and receives only venom in return.

“I despise you! I hate you that you can help me!”

“Hate me all you want,” he says, but soon enough Cal is back with water and the leader of the soldier-hara has come to see what Pell is doing. He’s wary, expecting the other to complain, but there’s no commentary at all as Pell works. He cleansed the wound as best he could, placed his hands on the leg to apply his will. Anyone viewing the memory will be able to sense what he’s doing, manipulating his energies and forcing them into the damaged limb, visualizing crushed bone knitting back together.

It’s his first time putting these skills into practice, and for someone so very injured and ill. It takes him awhile -- he loses the focus and finds it again, keeps working.

“The bone is shattered. Why have you done nothing for him?”

“That’s none of your business,” the leader says, sounding cold. “Anyway, you’re helping him now.”

Pell continues to work, and he can feel the sickness clearing but the har is weak and there’s so much damage to the bone itself that this will take repeated treatments. Still, the pain is dramatically aided. And so Pell asks his name again.

“Cobweb,” the injured har tells him, and the memory fades. ]

perfect!

[unknowable]

[Adam is very focused on what they're doing. He's trying to put himself in the right state, halfway to scrying, where he can feel the energy Pell uses. It won't be quite the same, but it might help him figure out what would work for him.

Which means that even though he knows this isn't a great time to touch someone, he doesn't think to stop it until that memory washes over him, dragging him under for a long moment. It feels so real.

And in return -

--

This memory begins in an island of stillness in the the middle of chaos.

Adam is there, in the center of a pentagram he has only just thrown himself into. Outside the pentagram are a collection of other teenagers - one of whom is Ronan, also living in Hadriel now, though he's younger in this memory. He is on the ground, having been smashed in the side of the head with a gun. That gun is in the hand of an adult man, and it's being held on one of the teens. One of Adam's dearest friends, now meant to be a sacrifice.

When Adam speaks, within he seems utterly certain, as if this is the only possible course of action. And it is, because a sacrifice must be made, and so he gives up the thing so important to him, the thing he's worked so hard for.

"I sacrifice myself."

One of his friends shouts, denying this, and there is a crackle in the air. The ground begins to shake. The trees are moving, leaves and branches falling, the teenagers yelling in surprise and fear. The man with the gun stands, thwarted anger on his face.

"What would you know what to do with power? What a waste. What a fucking waste."

He raises the gun, points it at Adam, and pulls the trigger. The bullet does not hit Adam, because the magic does not allow it. Instead, it is simply gone.

His friends are horrified. The man drops the gun. The trees begin to speak.

A stampede of strange forest creatures bursts into the clearing. They part neatly around the pentagram, leaving Adam in utter safety. His friends find shelter. The man who had the gun tries to enter the pentagram, but Adam, who now has the gun, does not allow this. It all happens very suddenly. When the stampede is over, the man is on the ground, dead.

The memory ends.

--

Adam blinks, pulling his arm away in a motion more instinctive than anything.]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but - I saw something.

[His first reaction is to apologize, because Adam kept secrets about his own life for so long that privacy is incredibly important to him. He can't know how personal that memory was. Maybe it was nothing - but maybe not.]

[pellameno]

[ Pell blinks, stunned -- more by the suddenness of it than what he saw or the fact that it happened. He knew this was going on right now, but is accustomed to memory sharing on his own terms, so is less on guard than most. He lowers his hand as Adam pulls his arm back, then shakes his head. It's not Adam's mistake. ]

No, it's my fault. I forgot about the whole... [ He gestures in the air as if to indicate "all of this" for the gods' antics. ] May I ask what you saw?

[ His life.... has some questionable moments. Nothing he's done wrong, nothing he's ashamed of, but it can be a bit much at times. Especially for humans. ]

[unknowable]

It's the gods' fault, really.

[He says it with a quick smile that's maybe a bit awkward. Neither of them meant for this to happen, after all.]

I saw you arriving at a town. Rundown, maybe it was - attacked? They had injured, and you tried to help, though it seemed like no one particularly wanted you to.

[It's not the sort of thing Adam would ever have seen at home, and if he hadn't spent a couple years here he might have been shocked. But he's seen enough, been through enough, that all he feels is sadness for what was and some admiration for Pell's own efforts. He tried, even if he wasn't appreciated for it. That means something.]

Did you... see something too?

[pellameno]

Ah... that was Phesbe. The Irakka killed all the humans, during their war with the Varrs. You saw me treating Cobweb, he was actually a prisoner of war, sort of. They wanted to breed with him but didn't know how and he was too gravely injured. We did get him home. Took him with us when we left, and he did appreciate it later.

[ That should be all the explanation necessary, he thinks, unless Adam has more questions. The one the human asks is harder to answer. Pell doesn't quite understand the situation, or the magic he felt in the memory. ]

You were in a forest with several others, and a man with a gun. He was going to kill one, but you said you "sacrificed yourself" and then... that isn't quite what happened. Did the forest protect you?

3 in a bit

[knifecollecting]

[Towards the end of the week, Jo has spent a bit more time in the house than she normally liked. She doesn't like finding out things about people they don't mean to tell her, just as she doesn't like people learning something she doesn't want to tell them.

She hears someone in the kitchen and heads down to see who it is, though it's almost certain to be Pell. Of course, it is Pell, and she clears her throat before she steps in so he doesn't get surprised.]

Hey.

and drinking at bobby's, soon!

[pellameno]

[ It seems like everyone's been keeping to the house more towards the end of the week -- Peter has been living in his full-body suit even at home, to avoid accidental memory sharing, and Pell suspects all the rest of them are just tired of it happening. He still goes to the clinic and his garden but is definitely more aware of the event than he'd like. It's familiar, but it distresses people, and the lack of control is somewhat disconcerting.

He isn't wary at home, though. When Jo clears her throat he glances up from where he was pulling down things for tea, offering her a smile. ]

Evening. Any incidents today?

Re: and drinking at bobby's, soon!

[knifecollecting]

[Jo takes a seat at the table and watches him work.]

No, but I've been home. [It's hard to run into someone when you haven't left your room.]

What about you? Have you had any trouble?

[pellameno]

Ah, the old hermit-to-avoid-god-antics routine. I know it well.

[ He just can't afford to do it anymore, he's got too much on his plate. ]

No trouble, really, though a few encounters. I'm used enough to sharing memories it doesn't affect me as much as what I see... there were only two today, one was far worse than the other.

[knifecollecting]

[Jo watches him for a moment, sighing after a bit.]

You can't control it, huh? Do all the har share memories?

[pellameno]

When I'm doing it myself I can. For this... I think I can control what of mine people might see, if it wasn't accidental contact, but I've been getting random scenes from other people's lives. Maybe just whatever's on their minds. It's disconcerting, having it in my head so suddenly.

[ So basically, hermiting is a wise choice. ]

We're all capable of it, yes. Like anything, it takes practice.