ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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hadriel_logs2018-11-14 07:35 am
hadrielmods) wrote in hadriel_logs2018-11-14 07:35 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- abigail hobbs,
- agent carolina,
- akira kurusu,
- atem,
- carlisle longinmouth,
- charles yvry,
- curufin,
- daenerys targaryen,
- dr. newton geiszler,
- elena fisher,
- fingon,
- floki,
- george lass,
- geralt of rivia,
- gren,
- hanako nurumi,
- harlan halliday,
- inquisitor trevelyan,
- isaac 'zack' foster,
- ivar ragnarsson,
- jason todd,
- jill valentine,
- jo harvelle,
- kettara bloodthirst,
- laura palmer,
- lup,
- lyanna stark,
- margaery tyrell,
- mariane cousland,
- michael munroe,
- nagito komaeda,
- nick valentine,
- oscar,
- sally face (sal fisher),
- sansa stark,
- scott ryder,
- staci pratt,
- terrence ephemera/sharkface,
- the disreputable dog,
- tinya wazzo,
- will graham,
- yusuke kitagawa
Event Log: Memories Past
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!
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.
julie grigio. | ota
From Julie, someone could see;
1. a young Julie in the back seat of a car, listening to the radio with her mother while her dad stands outside checking his gun
2. she and her family reaching the Canadian border, hoping for safety and finding none
3. the first time she killed somone
4. the last night she saw her mother alive
5. a memory of her first boyfriend, Perry, either good or bad
6. seeing her father die
7. seeing her favourite zombie, R, beneath her balcony in the enclave
8. wildcard! pick a mood - soft, tragic, etc - or a specific thing you'd like and I will throw a memory to fit
**JULIE'S MEMORIES MAY INCLUDE CONTENT WARNINGS**
((ooc: you can contact me on
6 bc we love trauma
Wrong.
The problem isn't caution, it's his reflexes. They're heading up the stairs in Julie's spire when she trips, and he reaches out to catch her without even thinking about it. Reflex. Instinct. Unfortunate.
He isn't going to like what she sees, but Julie might not either... ]
oh nooooo | cws for gore/semi-cannibalism or something
That is, until Wash catches her--
The boneys are everywhere, crawling up the sides of the stadium and flooding the streets below. Julie stands on the roof, the arms of a young man loose around her. He looks like one of the Dead, but his eyes are a bright, vivid gold.
"Julie!" a voice shouts, harsh and rasping, and she whips her head around towards it. A man in military uniform, his skin flaky and ashen and his jaw muscles held tight, is standing in front of the roof hatch while another man clambers up behind him. A dark-skinned girl sits against the hatch lid, her hands tied behind her. When he looks at Julie, his entire body clenches at something he sees in her face.
"Colonel Rosso," he says, addressing the man behind him. "Shoot them."
"Dad!" Julie's voice blurts out in shock and fear, but she doesn't move, rooted to the spot with nowhere to run.
"Shoot them," Grigio says again, but Rosso glances from Julie to the young man holding on to her and doesn't follow the command.
"Sir, she's not infected." Again, the words 'shoot them' come from Grigio, and each time they're spoken they echo around in Julie's mind like a gunshot. Rosso shakes his head. "She's not infected, sir. I'm not even so sure the boy is infected. Look at their eyes, they're--"
"They're infected!"
Julie's heartbeat pulses in her ears, so loudly that it all but drowns out the maddened ravings of her father. She's looking at him, taking in the strange, stretched-out quality of his grey-hued skin, the way that the shape of his teeth can be seen under his pursed lips. He points a gun at her, and Rosso grabs at him, but Grigio breaks his wrist with trained precision and knocks him to the ground.
The sight of the old man crumpling snaps Julie out of her stunned trance.
"Dad, stop!" she screams, but before she can take a step forward he's pointing the gun at her again, and her heart shoots up into her throat. There's nothing of a person in his face, now. Nothing but skin stretched over a skull.
Then, abruptly, he topples over. Rosso has stabbed a knife into his ankle, and he doesn't make a sound as his leg gives out from under him and he slides down the steep slope of the stadium roof, his fingers grasping for a handhold on the steel. He slips over the edge, but the tips of his fingers can be seen as he clings to the rim. Julie runs to help, but it's too steep, and as she starts to slip she stops and crouches, staring helplessly at her father.
As she watches, another set of hands comes up over those desperately clinging to the edge of the roof. Yellow, skeletal fingers with no flesh, browned by age and ancient blood. They dig into the steel and pull up a grinning skeleton, humming with a strange power. It isn't fast. The others have been fast, but not this one. It takes its time as it hooks its claws into Grigio's shirt and hauls him up, then onto his feet.
"Rosy!" Julie screams again, shouting to the old soldier behind her. "Fucking shoot it!"
Rosso struggles for breath around broken ribs, unable to move. The look he gives Julie is one that begs forgiveness and all that Julie can do is watch, horrified, as the creature holding her father grips onto his arm, pulls him in close, and slowly bites a chunk out of his shoulder.
She shrieks, and her father doesn't fight. He stands impassively as the boney chews into him, the lumps of flesh falling through the bottom of its hollow jaw. Julie sprints to the hatch, picks up a gun and wheels 'round, pointing it at the grinning skeleton. It finally acknowledges her presence, rearing back its head and releasing a piercing, bone-chilling roar, like a trumpet out of tune. Julie fires and her shots fly wildly, missing, clipping off pieces of bone.
It's her father's voice that stops her.
"Julie," he mumbles. "I'm sorry."
"Dad, push it off you! Fight it!"
"No."
The skeleton grins at Julie, and eats her father's throat.
Julie screams again, the sound rent with all the anguish, rage and heartbreak that one battered young heart can hold, and she fires again. The creature's skull vaporises into dust, and with its fingers still embedded in Grigio's shoulders, it topples from the roof and takes him with it.
The gun drops from Julie's hands.
-- Julie gives Wash a little shake as she finds her footing on the steps again, her expression fixed in an uncertain, almost fixed smile.]
Uh... hey, Wash? You're zoning out on me.
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Wash is arguing with an older-sounding man, his own voice youthful, his HUD identifying the other as staff sergeant. Superior by two ranks, for those familiar with the military. Superior enough to be giving orders, that’s for sure.
“There is no time for your insubordination, corporal. When I give an order, you are to follow it.”
“...no.”
“What did you just say?”
“I said no. It’s a suicide mission! We don’t have the soldiers to take what’s coming, if you send us to that planet we’re all dead and I won’t do it. No.”
“This is our duty, we are sworn to protect this post--”
“I saw the intelligence report, they’re not sending troops, they’re sending glassers. There’s no point in going down there to get nuked, we should be evacuating these, pack this ship till we have to worry about running out of air and then take a hundred more and call for relief.”
“You are a coward, son, if I ever saw one. We are marines! We--”
“You keep saying we like it’s going to be we! You’re going to drop us like you were ordered and take a slipspace transport and say you barely made it out alive, you’re not going down there to die with us. Because those weren’t your orders. Who’s the real coward here? What are you afraid of?”
“Why you little maggot. Take him into custody, now! I will handle this myself.”
Two more armored soldiers marked as privates approach Wash, albeit very reluctantly, like they don’t like the direction this conversation has taken. He glances over his shoulder at them and moves fast as lightning, grabbing the staff sergeant’s wrist since his arm is outstretched to point a finger at where he wanted Wash taken. And then it’s a fight physically as well as verbally, but not one that lasts long. Wash takes the older soldier out, has him down on the floor of the deployment bay, probably with several broken bones and a concussion.
It was fast, it was mostly efficient, but it was not without anger. He looks up at the other two soldiers, who are just staring down in what can only be supposed to be shock that Wash just did that.
“...they’re going to court martial you, man,” one of them says softly, worriedly.
“Let them. At least I’ll be alive to get kicked out.”
“Yeah, but…”
“Don’t. Just… let’s get him contained and get the hell out of dodge. I’ll tell comms to call the post about what we picked up, we can get someone more superior than this jackass to agree with me about evac.”
“Right.” The other soldier speaks up, far less timid. “I don’t know what the fuck those orders were, but it would’ve killed the platoon and that whole planet. Come on. We don’t have much time before the Covenant gets here.”
The other two soldiers pick up the staff sergeant and Wash hustles out of the bay, the memory fading on the clang of his mag boots through the ship’s metal hallways.
--
When Wash snaps out of Julie's memory he's not sure what her expression means... or even her words. Did she see something too? Or was it just him, and she's worried about what he might have seen? Shit. He was supposed to be being careful.
They're not going to talk about this in the stairwell, though, that's for damn sure. Wash jerks his chin towards the landing of her floor, starts moving again. ]
I didn't-- I need to get inside, come on.
no subject
Once again, Wash, your military sucks.]
Yeah--.. yeah. [She mutters as she fumbles with the door, pushing it open and then shoving it forcefully closed when they're both inside.]
Shit... you saw something, didn't you.
no subject
[ Inside, Julie, trust him, you don't want him telling you in the hallway. It isn't until they have a bit of privacy that Wash scrubs a hand over his face, lets the worry reach his eyes. ]
I saw how your father died.
no subject
Oh.
[Julie still sees that - the last thing she saw before she came back here again - almost every time she closes her eyes. She leaves him by the door and walks into the apartment, dropping down onto the couch.]
I don't want to talk about it.
no subject
[ No pushing, no argument, just. Okay. She doesn't want to talk about it, that's fine, but she deserved to know. ]
What did you see?
no subject
[She shakes off the thoughts that rise up around knowing what Wash saw, and some small part of her wishes he had pressed her about it... but he won't. That's just not his way.]
You were in some kind of trouble. Refusing orders from a staff sergeant because they were suicidal.
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Oh... that's what got me kicked out of the UNSC. I still don't know what the fuck he was thinking, besides wanting to look like the hero for some cushy promotion out of the line of fire.
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[She can't help the way she rolls her eyes, or the mutter of 'jesus fucking christ' that she holds under her breath. It's way too much like something her dad would do. Once upon a time, he would have been just like Wash.]
God, your military sucks!
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2
[ Cashmere's been snooping around the clothing racks too, and hands Julie a pair of fuzzy, foldable ear muffs. the hand brush is unintentional, but they both get a look at something from the past. ]
b pls c:
[She's been trying to keep from touching other people, and this time it's entirely unintentional--
The border wall is massive, rising up like something unreal behind the movie-perfect beige houses and green lawns, large maple leaves painted every hundred feet as a stern reminder of just who built it.
"There it is," announces a man in the driver's seat, a stern, military soldier type. The truck rolls to a stop at the border gate, and he gets out, approaching the black scanning window with his hands held up. "Colonel John T. Grigio, US Army, requesting immigration," he calls out. The window emits a few beeps, the gun turrets atop the wall twitch, but nothing happens. Grigio repeats himself, but only gets silence in response.
"Hello!" he shouts. "I have a wife and kid with me. We came from New York by way of the north and middle territories and have much intel to share. Colonel John T. Grigio, requesting immigration!"
The red light blinks again, and Julie watches from the back seat of the truck. In the front passenger seat is a woman who looks like an older, more tired version of Julie herself, and she's twisting her hands in her lap.
"How old was that Almanac?" Julie whispers, her young voice shaking with uncertainty.
"Two months," her mother says, and Julie feels her heart sink at the tightness in her voice. Outside, her father is still shouting, an edge of emotion coming into his voice that surprises her. She realises, in that moment, that his hopes were as high as theirs no matter how much he'd tried to hide it until now. They had counted on finding safety here, but...
Grigio smacks the butt of his pistol against the scanner window and a garbled electric response flares to life.
"--ARNING - SAULT RESPONSE - ETHAL FORCE--"
And the guns begin spraying bullets. Julie screams, her father runs back from the wall but the guns don't follow, they spin on their turrets spraying ammunition without aim, then abruptly go limp.
"--FILE - RESPONSE FILE CORRU - RETINA SCAN - AILED. REQUESTING RESPONSE FROM FEDERAL AUTHORIT - ASSWORD. ASSWORD - EQUIRED. WORK VISA. DUTY-FREE. APPLE MAGGOT."
The guns rise. Grigio dives back into the car and slams it into reverse, until they're out of range of the guns. Then, he spins it into a sharp slide on muddy grass and they all take a moment to catch their breath as the Canadian border goes about losing its mind.
"What the fuck?" says her mother. Julie rummages a bag on the seat next to her and pulls out a sniper scope; she runs it along the top of the thirty-foot high wall, past coils of razor wire and scraps of cloth, then she sees it, and her heart sinks all the way down into the pit of her stomach.
A uniformed arm dangling over the edge of the wall. Two helmets in the razor wire, one containing a head. And three city-sized plumes of smoke rising from somewhere beyond.
"Dad," she says numbly, handing over the scope. There's no safety to be found here. The world is crumbling faster than they can save it.]
no subject
everything is quiet. one of the advantages to being part of the Career Pack is you get moments of downtime - time to eat, and sleep, and laugh.
most of the arena is a swamp, but the Careers have taken hold of one of the only pieces of dry land - a narrow, long piece of land that extends from the cornucopia out into the deep water. they've only lost one so far, and the Careers remaining are both of the tributes from 2, the girl from 4, Cashmere, and her district partner Ardor.
they're all around a fire for dinner, Cashmere seated so she can see the water and what lies beyond. Ardor wanders down to the water's edge to look for smoke or signs of others across the water, and it's just a terrible coincidence that Cashmere looks up as he turns to rejoin the group.
everything that happens next happens incredibly quickly: an enormous crocodile bursts from the water and grabs Ardor in its jaws, dragging him into the murky swamp. Cashmere screams, the other tributes yell, and Cashmere finds herself picking up Ardor's bow and arrow and running towards the water. when she glances back the others are all running the other way, back to the safety of the cornucopia. Cashmere's still screaming, wailing, really. she doesn't know what to do, and though she loads an arrow, she never fires it even though the crocodile breaks the water's surface several times as he tears the boy apart.
then the waters are still. Cashmere's stomach turns like she might throw up. her vision narrows, and she's pretty sure she's still screaming. she drops the bow.
"Ardor! ARODOR!"
there's only silence in response, then the sound of a canon. it feels like something's snapped inside her, and she runs to close the distance to the water's edge, knife in hand instead of it in it's boot sheath. the anger blossoming inside her is powerful - she's never been so angry in her whole life.
as she suspected it might, the crocodile lunges onto the shore at her, and she slashes at it, connecting on the first swipe and then another. it feels like she's outside of her own body as she stabs at the beast, still screaming. it's over before she even really fully realizes what she's doing, her hands coated in blood nearly up to her elbows.
When Julie's memory fades, Cashmere sighs, a shake of her head to try and clear her thought and bring her back to the present. ]
Sorry - I didn't mean to.
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[Julie holds the ear muffs between numb hands, her fingertips rubbing lightly against the soft fluff. It doesn't occur to her, for a good few seconds, that Cashmere could have seen something, too.]
Don't worry about it, it's fine. [She clears her throat, and slips the earmuffs on.] What do you think?
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[ she picks up a fake fur scarf for herself wrapping it around her neck. her voice softens. ] I saw one of your memories. You and your family. At a- uh- a border?
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Haven't thought about that in a while. [The admittance is quiet, a little awkward, given with a small shrug and a brief inability to meet Cashmere's eyes.]
The Canadian border. My dad... He thought we'd be safe there. [She snorts softly.] He was wrong.
no subject
What happened next? Where'd you go?
no subject
That's where we've been ever since. There's some communication to other domes, but the lines are getting worse all the time.
no subject
People are just trying to survive.
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3.
So let the hard rains fall! Let the thunder deafen them! Let the snows blind them! Let the roaring winds pluck them from their feeble shelters and whip them to oblivion!"
what he doesn't see is Tinya and her boyfriend, Ultra Boy on approach to stop him. He gets as far as "And let the--" before Jo punches him in the face, using his ultra-strength and yelling back "All right! We get the flippin' point already!"
Jo's opponent only grins and says "You are strong, boy! I actually felt that! But you're so slow," and escapes using super-speed.
Tinya doesn't know what to do. he's moving too fast for the eye to see and as far as she knows, the man is halfway down to Earth by now. in the meantime, Jo has some recriminations for himself "Grife! Super-speed! And I had him! I'm stupid, Tinya, just plowing in as if one super-power at a time is enough to handle that maniac--"
but he doesn't see what Tinya is seeing. their attacker, on a direct course for the both of them. she phases to protect herself and tries to get his attention, "Jo! Invulnerability! Now!" as the man flies straight through her, hitting Jo at the base of his spine and sending both of them hurtling towards Earth.
Tinya's in a near panic. the boy she loves being attacked by a being with all of the powers of Superman with the intent to kill and she calls out desperately "Please be invulnerable, Jo! Please!"
and the memory fades]
no subject
[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."--
Julie jerks back quickly from Tinya's hand, letting out a loud growl of frustration.]
Oh my god, I am so fucking sick of this bullshit!
no subject
in her world, it's considered wrong to kill under any circumstances, it's believed that a better way can always be found. after what she's been through here and at home with the White Triangle, she can no longer say for sure that she agrees. that perhaps there truly is no redeeming some people.
she closes her eyes and tries to focus on the present] You and me both. This is--too much.
no subject
Yeah--... Yeah. Fuck, I never realised how many people I randomly touch in a day. God.
[It's starting to give her the creeps. Maybe she'll just walk around with her hands in her pockets from now on.]
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Me, either. Grife, and I don't even have to touch people if I don't want to. I think I'm gonna stay phased for the rest of the. . . however long this thing lasts.
[which she does, making her intangible. there's nothing visible to indicate that she can't be touched. this is the first time one of the aliens' manipulations has really worked on her and she doesn't like it]