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Priority Log - Part 2
Log 06 Priority (Part II)
Still the Big Screen Car
The last two weeks have been a busy time at FONY Records! Maybe you've been working diligently on your upcoming projects — or maybe you've been fighting the sense that something is wrong. That this life, whether it's better or worse than before, is not your own.
Either way, passengers will finally receive a new objective on their phones...
From here on out, characters can regain their real memories. They can do so randomly, but the most reliable way is to work with another passenger: they will know that by touching foreheads (yes, headbutting counts) for pairs, or huddling very closely for groups, they will unlock some memories for one or all of them — of course, it also allows the other person to see and feel everything play out, as though they lived it themselves.
It's memshare time!
As passengers regain their memories, their AU lives will start to fade. Production crews disappear, texts from your parents delete themselves, your favorite coffee shop is suddenly empty... Because you can't have both.
At least one character will need to reject the AU in order for everyone to progress; there is no minimum comment count. Characters may go both routes, but should ultimately prioritize one for the AC Poll.
Remembering
As characters regain the memories of their real lives, all semblance of their fake ones will rapidly disappear. And choosing to remember comes with side effects: passengers are overtaken by a fierce chill as the source of the cold finally presents itself. The shadows in the empty buildings around them start to stretch out. These shades collect in huge swathes — and shape themselves into sharp, spindly arms and fingers. They'll grab at whoever passes, leaving them cold and constricted, making it hard to remember what's happened and trying to drag them back into the illusions of the AU. However, when these shadows have manifested, they're also vulnerable: they can be dissolved by using a strong light, like a fire, flashlight, or stage light. Even sunlight will do the trick, but physically resisting the shadows will grow more and more difficult as they sap warmth from everything they touch.
For those less physically inclined, the shades have one more weakness: real, happy memories. By focusing on something that brought them past comfort, however small, characters can drive off the shades little by little.
This force controlling the AU clearly lives in shadows. Characters can weaken it by confronting these shades, in which case they will find themselves alone with their memories and a ghostly, empty city of Danaca.
Resisting
But maybe you don't want to remember—maybe your life in Danaca is too good to give up, and you'd rather have this even if it's not real. Unfortunately, once the illusion starts to shatter, there's no stopping the cracks from spreading.Characters that don't regain their memories through contact with other passengers (whether intentionally or unintentionally), will still find their fake identities starting to fade away, but their real identities won't be able to fill the gaps. Instead, they'll find themselves... hollow. Devoid of personality, hopes and dreams. Empty.
...And in that empty space, something else might slip in. The steady collapsing of Danaca has left plenty of strong emotions and ghosts hovering in the air, and passengers might find themselves embodying a powerful current of despair or anger. Or perhaps one of the false denizens might inhabit them (Chadsef, anyone?). Contact with another passenger might also ignite enough memory to return their personality, but it might also give them the wrong one; they might start acting like someone from their memories instead, such as a childhood friend (or enemy).
Regardless of the scenario, there is one common thread: an innate desire for contact with other passengers. Though they won't remember why, passengers will eventually be driven to reclaim their original selves through memshare with other characters. Whether they get everything back before they leave is up to you!
OOC Notes
AC Check is up! The deadline to submit AC is December 1st, 11:59 p.m. EST. Please note this is a day extended as we've pushed the log back a day, AC schedule overall will remain as normal.
Memshare: To add a little spice, memories do not need to be limited by your character's canon point. That is to say, sharing scenes from your character's future will also count as memshare.
Continuing Memloss: Characters may or may not regain all their memories prior to leaving the car, player's choice. The memshare mechanic will no longer be in effect, however players are free to naturally regain memories over time.
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no subject
[ He gives her a look like he very clearly believes the lunacy coming out of his mouth.
Even though, for a second, a flicker of doubt. A moment of confusion—when? where?—before he settles back into haughty arrogance. ]
Just because I'm not pawing at you doesn't mean I am not myself. In fact! I would say that behaviour is more out of character. The result of too much drink... Normally I would never be so uncouth as to let my base urges overpower my adherence to chivalry.
no subject
[She means it.
But also, she's now positive something is Wrong. Claude would indeed never be, ahem, "so uncouth as to let his base urges overpower his adherence to chivalry." But he would also judge the hell out of anyone who put it like that. The man may be an enigma but he is nothing if not a self-effacing.
Toko takes two steps forward. Right into his space. She's not usually so pushy, she vastly prefers to keep her distance from others, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She cants her head up to meet him with a steely glare.
And slaps him across the face.]
no subject
So apparently, Toko slaps Claude so hard she knocks a memory right out of him, and suddenly,
You wake up, and it's to a hand around your neck and the ominous glint of a blade in the moonlight.
It's the first time you've woken up like this. You're maybe five, or six years old, and you're filled with fear first, and panic second.
But you still know better than to scream.
You slap the arm that's keeping you pinned to your bed, and it doesn't do much, except wherever that knife misses wherever it was meant to cut, slashing deep and bloody over your chest instead, pain slicing through your veins as your legs kick out, earning a grunt of pain when they connect with—something soft and human.
The situation starts to take shape in your head, and something else seeps in around the fear: fury. Indignation. Rage that anyone would do this to you- you're a prince.
You kick again before your attacker manages to shield himself, into that same spot, another more pronounced cry of pain. But the reason your shadow stuck close was because this time, he lodges his blade into your shoulder, and it burns so much that you lose track of everything else. How hard your fists are beating into the arm around your neck. How furiously your legs are kicking at the shape above you until eventually it staggers back.
And against all odds, you get up too. The knife wasn't driven deep enough to stay in place when you move, and suddenly it's very accessible.
Suddenly the knife is in your hand and you're screaming, launching forward and you know that you hurt him, some where, some amount of times because there's blood spraying over your floors different from the droplets dripping from your own clothes. But you're only a child, and when the fog clears from your head you realize that the would-be assassin is gone.
It's just you, covered in blood and left without a scratch. ]
Ultra Despair Girls spoilers
Anyway the real tragedy is that even though she slaps him into last Tuesday, she's stuck along for the ride. Toko has the curious sensation of being both smaller and younger than she should be, and gets to puzzle over that for three whole seconds.
Then there's a knife.
She screams. Not the child, she, Fukawa Toko, is screaming. Because there's a searing gash where no one has cut her in her life, and a strange man in her bed. His bed. Their bed.
The more she fights for her life, the less it makes sense. The blows should render a kid useless, but they don't. The tables turn. There's blood shooting through the air and the swift strokes of a knife, but it's all by her own hand. Then, suddenly, all that's left is the foul air and the break-neck pace of her heart. She's painted herself in red, but there's no one here. And there's no cuts, either. Not even a scratch.
Toko doesn't understand...
As for Claude?
You wake up on the ground. Cement. Smokey air fills your nostrils, and you feel like your heart is breaking. You've got to let her go, it's the only way.
But there's footsteps coming up behind you, and now you really won't have a choice. "Well personally, it's for the sake of the game. Byakuya Togami is important to you, is he not?"
If you weren't beaten so badly just now, you'd be able to do more. He pulls out a canister. You tell her to run. Whatever he sprays you in the face with does the trick quick. Once sneeze is all it takes —
— and you're good as new, sailing through the air and cackling high, brimming with glee. You want blood and there's two meatsacks full of it just dead ahead. The white-haired boy, pretty little thing, face painted up by those maniac brats he's been slaving under, and the dark-haired girl. She's pretty too, but that's not the one for you. That one's got to go.
"Please! Please stop!"
No can do. You launch forward. The girl screams and braces herself.
But it's the boy who's left weak in the knees. He sinks to the pavement, both thighs sliced in one neat line. He goes down with nothing more than a gasp. There's something wrong with that one.
"Blah-bliddy-blahblahblah! Shut the hell up! You lanky, wavey-haired bastard!"
He looks confused for all of a second, then smiles. Smug little shit. "Ah. Oh right. Even though you two share knowledge, you don't share memories. Correct? So then, you have no idea who the real enemy is. An honest mistake, I su—"
"Idiot!" Like you're gonna take that shit anymore. You flick your scissors as you strut closer, just to punctuate your point. "It's no mistake. What I share with her isn't just knowledge. She and I also share...emotions. If we didn't there's no way we'd both love Master."
The distance breached, the scent of death rising, you come to a stop before him. The ends of your scissors, sharpened on both sides and primed to slice steel, point to the end of his nose. "And my emotions are telling me this: to kill you. And let Dekomaru escape."
The heat swells inside of you. It's been so long, the very thought is raising gooseflesh all over. Your eyes blaze with madness as you croon to your new boy. Your first in ages. "And you're something of a pretty boy yourself! So I can kill you as I like! No remorse!"
And do you?
You made a promise, but man oh man, this has got to be the exception.]
((Watch here: from 7:15:10-7:21:30))
no subject
But it's displaced, somehow, by a sense of wonder. Of awe. He doesn't think that anyone has ever championed him so fiercely. This part isn't familiar. It's foreign and uncertain. Even the hope that blossoms in his chest feels fragile, like he can't believe it's real.
... And, to be honest, he really can't believe any of this is real. Had he really thought he was Lorenz? How long had be been walking around like that? ]
Ow.
[ He complains dully, rubbing his cheek and giving Toko an annoyed look. ]
You know, I think a gentle forehead touch would've done the trick.
[ Anyway, he's 100% not going to acknowledge anything either of them just witnessed. Or the fact that he was forcibly kinned to Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. That's all in the past now... ]
no subject
Toko comes too on shakier ground, thanks for the fond childhood memories. She has to blink Claude back into being before she can parse his whining. Then her nose wrinkles. All right, well, at least he doesn't think he shits gold anymore. But EVEN SO.]
Ghh— You ungrateful t-twat! I very kindly spared you from having to get close to my putrid face again, that's all! [She huffs, shoving her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.] And you w-were behaving like an ingrate. Why should I subject myself to more of that nonsense? What was that, anyway?
[Because it didn't seem like his Danaca persona either.
Now that she's spewed her venom, though, the furrow in her brow takes a more perturbed turn. Toko purses her lips, unsure how to broach the subject. By now she knows the deal, they'll each have seen something. But she didn't understand what had happened at all.]
So...um...about just now...
no subject
He's tired. He just spent who knows how long thinking that he was Lorenz of all people. ]
Okay, I'll apologize for that... It seems that I got the wrong set of memories back. [ He pinches the bridge of his nose briefly. ] For some reason I thought I was one of my classmates. Not one of my favourites.
[ But at least it wasn't Hilda. That would've even be more mortifying.
He can see that's she doing her best to acknowledge the memories they both saw, which he is steadfastly not going to do. ]
Your friends seem much more palatable. [ He gives her a smile, and its genuine. ] It's nice to know you have someone in your corner like that.
no subject
Anyway.]
Another classmate? [Toko makes a face. How was that even possible?] He's n-not here is he? Warn me if he is, he sounds like a pain in the ass.
[To put it politely.
Claude breezes past the gaffe, as he does most things. Toko scarcely has time to wonder if it's a positive trait or he's secretly a psychopath, he's already pulling the rug from under her again.]
Friend? Y-you mean— [Right. He would have seen something of her own past. Toko's cheeks flush and her hand comes to her mouth, as if he'd named the colour of her panties instead.] Komaru? She's...yes. We're friends.
[The shock wanes, and in its place comes a wee smile. Toko is staring at her shoes.]
I'd never had a friend before. It's so n-nice, to have someone lower themselves so much for your sake...it's probably because she's too stupid to know better. But I'm. Aheh...grateful...very grateful to have her by my side.
[She trails off, lost in some fond reverie. Though her deepening blush makes it seem a touch lewd. Oops.]
no subject
Normally, Claude is pretty careful with his words. He prefers to insinuate than be straightforward, leading people to ideas and conclusions as if they were their own.
But sometimes, it's just easier to be blunt, ] Ohh, so she's your lover?
[ Hm, he thinks about that for a moment, stroking over his chin. ]
That explains why you're a little... [ one does not simply call a lady horny ] You must be frustrated without her here.
no subject
But Dangans is not a perfect world. Alas.]
WHAT?!
[All the blood in her body shoots to her face at double speed. She looks fit to rip her own hair out, yanking at it like that.]
Whaddyou—NO! No-no-no! What were you seeing? W-was she trying to get me in the bath?!
[GOD.]
W-w-well it's nothing like that, I'll have you know! She's just — get your head out of the gutter! As if a man c-could understand the complexities of female friendship!
no subject
[ It seems to him that the lady doth protest too much. Maybe she hasn't realized the true extent of her feelings?
Well, given that the train is a place of self-improvement, it would behoove him to give her a helping hand. ]
Maybe I am a stupid man, but it definitely seems like you two... could be more.
[ He points a figure in her direction. ]
They do say that friendship is the best basis for a relationship.
no subject
[She scrapes at her scalp, face red as a hot coal.]
Just sh-shut up! Stop subjecting me to your insidious lesbian fantasies! Besides!
[And now she points a finger right back at him. J'accuse!]
You still have to explain yourself! You weren't the only one s-seeing things, you know!
no subject
But he supposes they aren't friends anymore now that the illusion has passed. Something that doesn't make him any more inclined to answer her request when she wrests the subject back to the memories they'd both witnessed.
In the face of her accusing finger, he just shrugs. ]
No, but why does that mean I have to explain myself?
no subject
Well you—
[The bulk of the bluster dies. Toko blinks.
She had been crying coming out of the memory, and the teasing in between made her forget why. Now she has the decency to look ashamed, eyes to the ground.]
Um...
[Her thumb is once again prisoner between her teeth. One day she'll gnaw it to the bone.]
You were b-basically just sleeping and then... Someone attacked you. [She swallows thickly. Her eyes dart to his before retreating to the ground.] Even though you were just a kid. And then there was — you g-got the knife away from them, and I don't know if you killed them or they just escaped or anything, but by the end I couldn't feel it anymore. Where they st-stabbed you.
Like it never even happened.