The Soulmate Fuckup Meme

[cornichaun]

The Soulmate Fuckup Meme
There's a name on your wrist. Maybe you were born with it; maybe it arrived around the time you reached adolescence. It's spelled out, in clear script - the script you learned to read first, your native language. It's the name of your soulmate.

What would a world like this be like?

Fucked-up, that's what.

(Based on this tumblr post.)

PROMPTS:
Choose just one, choose a couple, mix and match. Do what u want.

RELATIONSHIP
1: ORIENTATION CONFUSION. The name on your arm is the wrong gender. Maybe you thought you were straight, but the name is the same gender as yours. Maybe you knew you were gay, but the name is opposite-sex. Maybe you just didn't want anyone to know, and you hide your arm, pretend to be something you aren't. But there it is - the evidence glares at you every time you brush aside your sleeve. The name has to be right. Doesn't it?
2: JUST PLAYING AROUND. You're not soulmates with the person you're with. You're just playing around. Or maybe you're really in love - and no one will believe you. How do you face the complete inability of society to accept you? How do you face the inevitable, fated end of your relationship? How can anything be important, when you know it won't last?
3: ONESOMES, THREESOMES AND MORESOMES. You're soulmates with person A who's soulmates with person B who's soulmates with you. What now? - Or maybe you're meant to be in a polyamorous relationship. Or you're asexual, and the thought of that name fills you with dread.
4: ALONE. Your soulmate died. Your soulmate never showed up. Your soulmate never existed. Or your soulmate refused you.
5: FIRST TIME. You've never dated anyone else before. What would have been the point? And now you're moving in, you're getting married - why wait? You're soulmates, aren't you? What could go wrong?
6: TOGETHER. Yep. Here we are. Here you are, and here I am, and here are our names on each other's arms.
7: OTHER.

STAGE
1: INVESTIGATION. So there's this name, and you've plugged it into Google, and the only match you can find is some asshole's Facebook account. He looks like a real jerk. Or maybe you got nothing, and you hired a private investigation firm that specializes in this kind of thing. Now you have an email address, or phone number, or a home address, and what's next is to pick up the phone, write that letter, knock on that door.
2: REVEAL. A superstar's name is on the wrist of a teenager. The President's name is on the wrist of her opponent. Your name is on the wrist of someone in jail. Turns out that name on your best friend's wrist was yours - only you never knew, not until you found out who your parents were. You've just discovered your soulmate, or just revealed yourself to them. What next?
3: GETTING TOGETHER. You're in the early stages. Dating, maybe. Getting to know each other. Moving in, under the watchful eyes of other friends, happy and soulmated and eager to have their view of the world confirmed in you. But do you even really know this person? What makes you so suited, anyway?
4: TOGETHER FOREVER. Maybe you've been together thirty years, and you still have that same fucking argument about who washes the pans after you cook a steak. Maybe you sit in silence because there's nothing to say, and it's incredibly boring. Maybe you work in harmony, but you wonder: is it because you were supposed to be together all along, or just because you never had another choice?
5: TECHNICALITIES. Society won't let you get married. So what if you just change your name to the name on her wrist, and she changes her name to the name on yours… Or maybe you can't get insurance, because you're not married with a soulmate. Don't have the right to vote. Can't get promoted in your job.
6: A BROKEN SYSTEM. Soulmates might be perfect, but people aren't perfect. The world isn't perfect. And this world has screwed you over, time and time again. But - maybe you still found a way to be happy.
7: OTHER.

Comments

6-1

[hisownjustice]

[Yuri's never cared much about this name on his wrist. As far as he's concerned, the whole thing is a dumb superstition (no matter what anyone else might say) and he's never even bothered to try to figure out who that name belongs to. So the fact that he's here now is nothing more than coincidence. Perhaps fate, if he happened to subscribe to such a thing.]

((ooc: Wherever we are, he's just kinda passing through. You know a lot more about what's normal for your character than I do, so I'll let you set the scene and he'll respond accordingly. Bonus points if she's presently in need of help somehow; he can't leave it alone.))

[wolfishsurvivalist]

((ooc: I can work with that!))

[After everything that had happened with her brother and the fact that after six years he was still mourning the death of his soul mate on top of her own feelings that even if she did find the person whose name was on her arm they wouldn't want her anyway, she'd written off the whole business as a complete wash. It was too big and too terrifying. Her family was supportive and understanding but no one else could wrap their heads around why she'd covered up the name and never wanted to look at it again. She found decorative accessories that covered her whole forearm, long-sleeved shirts for colder days, layers upon layers that kept it as far out of sight as she wished it would be out of mind.

Not to mention the fact that whoever's name it was didn't even sound warou-ish. Not even in the languages of the other tribes and packs across the globe. Mika knew, because she'd checked once when she was much younger. Now she was thirty and too busy trying to juggle her business and art, and didn't have time to waste scouring the internet for someone she was too terrified to meet.

Unfortunately, trying to juggle a portfolio full of poster-sized wall art, a satchel, a travel mug of coffee, and her shop and car keys was a terrible idea. Especially when the five-times-mended handle of the large portfolio finally gave way completely and the whole thing crashed to the sidewalk and vomited sketches, finished pieces, and notes everywhere. Even her instinctive grab for it had only led to her getting a good smack in the face with her messenger bag that left her swearing as her sunglasses clattered to the ground with the rest of her things. Shoving the thing behind her after a quick rub of her face to be sure she wasn't cut, Mika stooped to collect her papers with a sour expression and a furious grumble of irritation.]

[hisownjustice]

[He couldn't help but notice the woman walking down the street toward him. She wasn't the first animal-person he'd met here, but he still wasn't used to it. Where he grew up, there wasn't any such thing. Not that he had anything against them. He wasn't one to judge anyone based on appearances alone. Hell, they were even attractive in their own way. Something about the ears...

When the bag she was carrying decided to fall apart, the resulting mess was almost impressive. To make it worse, a gust of wind picked up at that exact moment, scattering a few of the papers even farther. He reached out to grab one as it fluttered by him and quickly moved to get a toe on the corner of another. Luckily for all the papers, the wind quieted down as soon almost as soon as it started. With the runaway notes and sketches successfully contained, Yuri turned his attention back to the woman.]

You alright?

[After all, getting whacked in the head with a messenger bag hadn't exactly looked fun.]