hadriel_logs | Event Log: Memories Past

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!

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.

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She's out and about, like she typically is. The medium sized black and tan dog with her two pointy ears tends to make her way around the various islands. No wings, at least not yet, although more often than not she is more than a little wet and smelling of damp dog. She does have a dry place to sleep, a couch, although the Dog doesn't feel the cold and doesn't need sleep.

She doesn't require food either, not that it is stopping her from sniffing the air near the bakery. A mark, he could be called, as she watches him exit the building and her famous nose catches scent of the items in his shopping. It is why she comes trotting forward, tongue lolling to one side, tail wagging happily. Feed a poor starving hungry dog, Wash?

Wash is headed back to the boats at the shoreline when the Dog crosses his path -- oh no. Oh no, he's fallen for this what, like. Four times now? Where it wasn't a pet, it was a Hadrielite. Or whatever the people trapped here call themselves. A wolf, a cat, a sheep, he just keeps falling for it, except... well sometimes it is a pet.

...this dog sure is acting like a dog, but then Tucker did at first too, but on the other hand he knew Wash personally and was trying to prank him, but this person might too...

No, he's just too fucking paranoid. It's a dog. A hungry dog that smells the bakery treats.

"Hey uh--" a quick check, because even if a dog can't understand what he's calling it he wants to be accurate, "hey girl. I don't know if much of this is good for dogs, sorry."

He does make an effort to peek into the box for her, though, because sometimes Del does put in rolls and bread should be fine-- oh, there are this time, excellent.

"You're in luck." Wash snags one through the tilted lid and squats, setting the box down and tearing pieces off the roll to offer to the Dog. He tosses the first one to see if she can catch it.

Arguably, the Dog isn't actually a dog, but for all intensive purposes, she acts like one. Looks like one as well, and quite likely smells a little like a dog that has been enjoying the water just a little too much. Is she a dog? No, but that is a story for another time and another place, or never, really, because she will wiggle and squirm her way out of it.

Maybe, just maybe, it appears that she can understand exactly what he is saying. She is doing a very good job of begging, those eyes all but glued to the box in his hand. She is sitting prettily though, tail gently thumping, looking not at all aggressive. Her ears do perk, and the roll stands no chance, because the Dog catches it midair a few seconds after his hand lets it go. Inhaled? More or less.

There is a little scoot forward, tongue darting along her jowls, an expectant expression on her face.

"...geez, you're hungry," Wash comments almost worriedly, as he tears off another piece for the creature in front of him. He's only more convinced the Dog is a dog now, from this behavior.

He keeps tossing pieces of the roll, but is wracking his brain for what a dog might like that he's got at the house.

"I feel like we can do better than this. How do you feel about fish? Or stew?" As if a dog could answer him, but maybe he can get it to follow him. He straightens up, holding the remaining half of the roll and trying to lead her with it. "C'mere, girl. It's okay."

Poor Wash. Feeding a not dog that doesn't need to eat at all. That being said, she does appreciate the gesture and at the moment she is more food driven than anything else. Then again, the Dog doesn't sense any threats from any fronts, as then her personality would change completely.

And, like a good dog, not a crumb of bread touches the ground, as no matter the toss, those jaws are there to snap it out of the air, all but swallowing the chunks in one gulp. There is still a good portion left, which her eyes never stray from, at least until he speaks again, which brings an answer from the canine, whether she meant to or not. With her, one never knows anyway.

"So long as the seasoning is right."

The Dog could have tricked him for far longer, so it's good on her that she outs himself early, honestly. Now he's annoyed at himself for not asking immediately, not her for putting on an act. Still, he recoils in surprise, because he'd thought that surely this time he was dealing with an animal, this time his judgment call must have been correct.

It was not.

"So long as-- what?! Oh my godddd, it's never just a dog around here. Never! I'm an idiot..." He shakes his head, then just offers her the rest of the roll because really, what's he supposed to do now? She must really be that hungry, if she was playing up the dog act for food. "I should've just asked, that's it, I'm done guessing. But if you're actually hungry you can come back with me."

Unfortunately with his flailing here, Wash has forgotten about the event. So if the Dog touches him at all when she comes to get the rest of the roll, he won't think to pull away in time.

"Seasoning." Supplying that matter of factly, as if that is actually what he has been asking after. She has always told Lirael that she would eat the library mice, if they were cooked and seasoned properly. Her Mistress had never taken her up on her offer though. She huffs a little though. "I am too a dog. A disreputable one, but still one regardless."

Which is true, but which is also completely false. She is a dog, but that is not all that the Dog is. Not that she so easily gives an answer to what she is, as it is an art that she has perfected- squirming out of situations. "Thank you. I'll happily still come."

Not that she is hungry. She doesn't need to eat, ever, not that it stops her tongue from darting forward to aim for that last piece of bread, and yes, there may well just be a brush of fur and tongue against his skin as she does so. The bread does go down, but the Dog pauses, bread poised within her jaws.

A disreputable dog... Wash looks skeptical, because she is definitely more than just a dog even if that's her real form. Normal dogs don't talk, don't say thank you and request seasoning on their food. But he's happy to take her along, especially if that means he gets to ask more questions.

When the Dog'snags the bread she goes still, and Wash realizes his mistake. But he isn't seeing anything -- sometimes it's just like that, it's one way and he hopes it's nothing too terrible. The Dog may be a dog but even if she was normal he wouldn't want to inflict the suffering he's been through on an animal either.

--

Wash is standing beside a line of recruits trying to shoot cones off a concrete barrier set up downrange. The first three all hit their targets, the fourth misses several times.

"Lieutenant Palomo! Explain to me how, in light of your recent promotion, you've somehow managed to become worse at target practice!"

The soldier replies, speaking a little too quickly as if he's intimidated. "Uh, because the newly added pressure of my rank makes me second guess my actions more frequently in hopes I won't let down my fellow peers."

Wash starts out still yelling, trying to keep up the act, "Why don't--" but then mellows quickly. "Oh. Um. I mean that's... understandable, Lieutenant."

"Also, I've been trying to make a smiley face for like nine minutes." And when Wash glances back at the wall, this seems to be true. "Nailed it."

Wash sighs, and someone wails his name from behind him. "...now what?"

It's a man in orange armor, sounding urgent. "Where's Kimball?"

"Ohhhhh. Captain Grif. How nice of you to join us, we missed you at practice this morning."

"Yeah. That's probably because I wasn't there." And it doesn't sound like he cares.

"So you weren't. Which is why everyone is going to give me three laps around the training facility." The Lieutenants start complaining about how unfair it is, but Wash just orders them again. "Get moving."

"You're punishing them?" Grif doesn't understand either.

"Remedial training. Disciplining the group for the actions of a single soldier leads to social pressures that typically result in the hasty correction of undesirable behavior. Classic military strategy."

Palomo shouts from his run, "Thanks a lot, fuckface!"

"So," Wash continues, "Are you ready to begin today's training?"

"Uh... no?"

"Alright, then. Let's make it four laps!" Again, the troops groan.

"How're you feeling now?" Wash asks Grif.

"I feel like this military's fucking weird."

"Five laps!!" More groaning, but Grif seems delighted.

"Man! This is the best punishment ever!"

The memory fades out on their conversation, something something Kimball something, and Grif's back retreating while the recruits collapse into a pile.

--

Then she's back, swallowing the offered food, and Wash sounds almost sheepish. Beneath that is resentment, not at the Dog but at the gods, for inflicting his life on other people.

"Sorry, I forgot about-- are you alright?"

The Dog has seen many things over the years, both as herself and as who she was. Most has likely been forgotten or warped, but she can recall many things. Not that she tends to have a need to, as her time with her mistress had been better served. Lirael had come to her own and found her own answers, with only a little help from the Dog.

It is a strange experience though and she snorts, as if trying to rid a strange scent from her nostrils, before she goes back to swallowing the chunk of food. She takes a moment, mulling that over, before her tongue lolls to the side and her ears perk up. Humans are quite strange. "Are laps supposed to be punishment? I would find that enjoyable."

Oh... he didn't accidentally traumatize her, that's good. He thinks he might know what she saw, even, either his own training back in the day with his drill sergeant, or something more recent on Chorus, in that role himself. The corner of his mouth quirks up.

"Uh, they're kind of seen that way, yeah, when you order a whole bunch of them. But it's really just training." He tilts his head at the dog -- is she still coming for better food? "You really wouldn't ever get tired of running? The point for humans is to push yourself farther than you think you can go."

Food is food. While she would like a nice ham bone, she isn't above accepting the hard bread that Lirael had offered. Can't break her teeth or upset her stomach. Her pointed ears shuffle a little, head tilting back up to his face. At least she is slightly distracted from the rest of his food, insomuch that she isn't actively begging even if her nose has told her all. "I'm not human though."

Not that she explains what she is. She never has, save for that one time at the binding, at that was only because she had needed to. As she had back then, so had she in that moment - she had stood for herself. "Bored, perhaps. I don't suppose there could be some rabbits tossed in to chase?"

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Event Log: Memories Past

4 eventually

we will get to puppy pettings!

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