(no subject)

[lostinlaundry]

The Mental World Meme

     Everyone’s got a special brain, some more special than others - they all contained a little retreat from the real world that helps gather their thoughts and memory, and keeps them from going completely over the edge… usually. But sometimes that little world that someone created in their mind has a few cracks or skeletons buried so deep inside that their waking mind doesn’t realize they exist.

     Whether you came in on purpose or by accident, a mental world isn’t a place to be mucking around casually, you might end up discovering something about that person you really didn’t want to know. Or you know, end up making things worse for them... but if you're really careful, and have a knack for it, one can do a world of good - just be careful!

Rules:

1.         Top-Level must put in a description of their character’s mental world.  Blank Top-levels will be deleted.

2.         The mental world is often an imperfect metaphor for the person: For example, an artist’s mental world is all done in garish black velvet art, with his rage at being dumped represented by a bull charging around, or a paranoid schizophrenic sees a distorted 1950s neighborhood with spies creeping all over the place.  These worlds aren't empty, they're often filled with inhabitants that reflect either an aspect of the person themselves, or how they view the world outside, and you might even met the "owner" of these minds.

            If you want a more thorough idea of what to do with your character's mental world, take a gander at this guide: The Psychonauts Guide to Building Mental Worlds

3.         Please put a warning in the header if there’s a chance your mental world will delve into trigger-y or uncomfortable content

Prompts:

1. Whoops!: Well you didn't mean to touch that, and now you're stuck in somebody's head and now you gotta figure out how to get out of there before you touch something else and make it worse.

2. Don't worry, I'm an expert: You got the Psychonauts Merit Badge, or a Dream Therapist license, or you're the headed of a school for gifted youngsters, you got this, man. You're here to help this person out to work through whatever issues they may have, but remember, while they consciously agree to this, their subconscious might have other ideas, but helpers will be there.

3. {Inception Horn Blare}: You're here for a purpose, but not necessarily for the owner's good. They got something locked away in their brains that you need to get, or something to plant in their head - even if it's just an earworm. Of course, their mental selves will look poorly upon such intruders and react - often times quite violently, so don't get caught. 

4. Basic Braining: Whether it's learning how to enter people's heads, or some other skill, you two are here to learn and train. Now remember to follow the teacher's guidelines or things could get messy!

 

5: You got your brains in my brains: Somehow your mental worlds merged together and is making a huge mess all over the place! Obviously you can't keep it all together, I mean who wants that in your head? There might be a way to get it unstuck, but search me. 

6. Obligatory Party Time: Who needs to be all serious all the time? Sometimes you just want to relax and do something crazy that you just can't simply do in the real world, such as stomping around like a Kaiju or have a massive disco roller derby party. Stay within the limits, and have a good time. If you want to do something more - well, that's none of my business.

7. Other: Well, as they say, the only limit is your imagination.

Comments

Sinbad | Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic | OTA

[ofsevenseas]

Sinbad's mental world least so far is a large, tropical island with impossibly blue seas licking at blinding white sands as emerald-green jungle foliage grew around a bustling city.

Every building looked like it was made from gleaming marble, with vivid splashes of color from awnings, curtains, or goods hanging - and golden roads intersect these towering, blocky buildings towards an Onion-domed palace perched way high up on the hill, looking like it's made entirely from gold and mother-of-pearl. The people that ran through the streets looked like children - and in fact, if one pays attention, everything just looks too big, as if the intruder was themselves a very small child.

combination of 1-7 and maybe 5 eventually? will that be ok?

[knight_king]

Arturia Pendragon sleeps soundly at the heart of Avalon, but she doesn't dream. She hasn't dreamed since she was five years old. Since the day that Merlin visited her and the half-incubus devoured her dreams. She thinks that is a small price in exchange to be trained as an ideal king.

Trapped in her endless slumber, she sees a barren world first. Her breath stops while she witnesses the painful journey Shirou carries out on his own lost in a landscape of fire and steel. She wants to call out for him, but he cannot hear her. There won't be words of comfort for him. Nobody can reach her while she remains in her utopia.

(Yet she still hopes to see him again, waiting for a miracle that won't come).

That's the usual routine. Sleep and hope, watching all the sights that Merlin wants her to see and speaking to her oldest ally. Today seems it seems her routine has suffered an abrupt modification.

She's suddenly in a large, sunny island that is not Britain. The weather is heavy and humid, the sea is of a vivid shade of blue, and the forest has trees she has never seen in her life. She frowns in confusion and turns away from the wilderness, thinking this must be one of Merlin's pranks. She doesn't share his eccentric sense of humor when she marches into the glistening city. The buildings grow large around her, but she's always been short in stature to notice if her body has shrunk even further. She can't recognize the construction style of the houses, and she thinks that the pearly palace and golden roads look gaudy and ostentatious.

The people, she thinks, looking at the bustling citizens come and by. They are children, shining with the simplicity of youth and filling the air with their mirthful laughter. She can't help but smile at that vision.

Re: combination of 1-7 and maybe 5 eventually? will that be ok?

[ofsevenseas]

There was the continuous ambient noises of a party filtering around - but sensitive ears may catch more sinister whispers, too low and muffled to catch what they're actually saying but enough to suggest that for all the brightness and child-like exuberance that this place is guarded.

A small group of children waving sticks and wearing handkerchief masks circle around the woman before running off, playing Bandits and Guards, before suddenly scrambling as a woman's voice called out that supper's ready.

There's a brightness here, and a subtle sense of something is off... perhaps the lack of any kind of shadow, or none of the doors had visible handles. Then something blue starts to form on the awning - taking the shape of a man with ridged scales covering most of his body, a serpentine tail curling around his crossed legs.

"A dragon...? No a human... - a king?" He questions, correcting himself with a deep voice reminiscent of rolling thunder. "How did you come to this paradise?"

Red Pyro, Team Fortress 2, welcome to pyroland friends

[balloonicorns]

∂σ уσυ вєℓιєνє ιη мαgι¢?

oh this ought to be good.........

[donotsummon]

[This place feels familiar. If Bill didn't know any better he'd swear he was in Mabeland. How do you feel about sweaters, Pyro?

Anyway, the mercenary may or may not notice a glowing, gold one-eyed triangle in top hat and bow tie floating around his(?) colorful candy-coated mindscape.]

[balloonicorns]

[Have you ever seen a Heavy giant teddy bear in a sweater? If you had, Mr. Cipher, then you would understand that yes, Pyro is indeed a big fan of cold-weather apparel.

And of course Pyro notices an unfamiliar face floating around Pyroland. It is, after all, Pyroland. Pyro waves at the pretty triangle, then beckona him over to join the tea party that the Balloonicorn and Pyro are currently having.]

Huddha!

Helena Crawford ((OC))

[myhoodieisdrooling]

[Something about the world just feels wrong. The sky is frozen in a perpetual twilight - purple on one side and orange on the other - and ever so often it pulses in a way that projects a distinctly unnatural feeling. If one watches closely, they might notice that the few stars that are visible are actually glowing eyes dotting the sky.

The world itself looks like a rugged port town, bordered on one side by the waters of a black bay, and bordered on the other side by a dark and foreboding swamp. The city itself consists of a fairly modern town, with a few rickety shacks thrown in between at odd intervals. All the proportions look off, with average two-or-three story buildings somehow looming like non-euclidean skyscrapers from some angles.

Some of the buildings are wrapped in large, tentacle-like appendages, originating from whatever nearby shadows are large enough to spawn them. There are a few cats roaming around, with eyes more intelligent than would normally be expected. Somewhere near the outskirts of the town is a somewhat normal-looking house, surrounded by a fence with a lock on it. Any attempt to near it is blocked by some impassible force, and though it sounds inhabited, it's impossible to see anyone or make out any of the sounds coming from the house.

But make no mistake, there are worse things lurking here. And Crawford's mind may not be the sole contributor to this world.]

Anakin Skywalker | Star Wars (sorry, I got wordy)

[morally_cryptic]

Anakin's mindscape has a couple of sharp divisions. The vast majority is a city with a mixture of wide boulevards and twisting alleyways. The sky overhead is of the night but quite brightly lit by an ever-changing series of stars, moons, and planets. Most of it is fairly clean and well-managed but every now and again you'll feel the crunch of sand underfoot and find it clinging to your shoes.

Through all of the streets and paths there seems to be a branching line of light threaded in the surface and sometimes climbing up building walls or wrapping around lampposts. In the brighter areas it tends to be shot through with blues and greens but as the streets get darker shades of red seem to creep in. The light seems to pulse a little in time with a heartbeat and if you were to touch it, you might get flashes of emotions not your own, visions too quick to quite take in, or a feeling of suddenly being filled to the brim and nearly overflowing with power.

From time to time, you might get the sense of something stalking you, even in the most bright spots of his mind sometimes there is a sense of creeping dread that can flicker away as quickly as it comes.

Two places are rather sharply delineated away from the majority. The brightest actually takes on an almost golden hue like that time as the sun sets when everything takes on a bit of a glow. Here, instead of a cityscape there are flowering plants (the air is heavy with their scent), the sound of water rushing in the background, and birdsong in the air. Inhabitants here are few and far between but there's an ease and relaxation to them that doesn't quite seem to come with those seen elsewhere in his mind. The whole space is surrounded by a high fence with only a couple of gates guarded at all times.

The other blocked away space has no gates, just a high and thick wall of durasteel. If you were to stand next to it, you might get the sense of something large and heavy on the other side breathing deeply and just waiting. If you were to look hard enough, you might find a couple of spots where the plates of metal don't quite join together all the way and there are cracks to peer through though nothing but a cold darkness can be perceived. There is no getting away from that feeling of being watched and that creeping sense of dread is more like a chilled fear that staying is only asking for the worst to happen. If you do stay long enough, you might see someone in heavy armor pass by, steadily patching up the wall in a neverending quest to keep whatever is on the other side locked away.

[organa]

A dreamless sleep was, perhaps, too much to ask for.

Bakura had been a draining experience emotionally, as well as physically. It's taken more out of her than she's willing to admit, but knows that Han is infuriatingly well aware of without having to pull any sort of confirmation out of her. Assisting Luke — finding him, watching him, yelling at him while he refused to answer her, helping him heal... She doesn't know how Jedi did this sort of thing on a day-to-day basis before the Empire purged them from the galaxy. But they also had proper training, whereas she'd been pretty much flying blind the entire time.

The last thing she wants is to waste energy she doesn't have right now on fitful sleep plagued by unnecessary dreams. Especially ones that come equipped with that spine-chilling feeling that there was someone watching her; following her.

Somehow, she knew: she wasn't alone.

[morally_cryptic]

As much as she might not want to admit it, she's a Skywalker and with that comes the possibility of too-vivid dreams they might rather not have.

And she's definitely wasn't alone even if the man in dark robes seems to melt out of nowhere. "Why do I get the feeling you're not supposed to be here?"

Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier | MCU

[zimasoldier]

[Warnings: His mind is fractured. Violent encounters are more likely than not if you choose to step through The Door. You have The Void, The Town, and The Door. Encounters in The Void will be the Winter Soldier lost between Bucky and HYDRA. The Town will be good ol' Bucky Barnes. The Door will be the Winter Soldier in his dreadfully frightening glory.]

At first glance, his world is a vast wasteland. Cold as ice and barren as a blank canvas. You might first think, with the cold, that you're looking at a blinding blizzard, but looking closer, you see that you are indeed standing in a white void. There appears to be no ground beneath your feet, but you can still advance forward without the sensation of falling. You're walking. Moving along the vast nothingness. As suddenly as The Void was blank, you see blotches of faded colour like watercolours bleeding against the canvas. You might think, perhaps you're walking a dirt road until oddly blurred shapes appear around you, still fuzzy like a watercolour painting, but with more defined colours. They're squared, likely buildings, browns and greys. Other blurs walk past you, some in pairs, some alone and of different blurred colour combinations. They have voices, but they can't be understood, like the buzzing of a distant crowd. Unlike the cold, empty world before, it's warmer here. Happier. You can almost be certain you're walking amongst a watercolour town of wonderful people with no sky or distant features. They don't have faces, but that's okay, because they're all wearing different colours. They're not all the same. It's isolated, but no one seems to mind. Except there's a dark, solid, foreboding door at the edge of town in a wall that stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction beyond the watercolour world. This door is in sharp detail and it's shut tight. There's a deeply imprinted etching of a skull sprouting six cephalopod-like tentacles encased in a circle. There's a figure sitting beside the door, back against the wall. Unlike the rest, this young man has features. In an old military uniform, circa WWII, with short-cropped brown hair. He's still faded as if painted of watercolours. Are you here to find him? Or are you here to see what's beyond that door? Or are you here entirely by chance? Unlike the others, this young man seems to notice you and even looks up.

"The Door keeps this place safe. If you open it, I'll have to shut it once you're through, but I'm warnin' ya, it's a living nightmare on the other side. Knock three times in quick succession and I'll let ya back in, but don't bring that thing with you. You'll know what I mean when ya see it."

[Warnings for violence start here.]

You ignore the warning and you push open The Door. Either what you're looking for is beyond it or you're just too curious not to, this is where you end up. Unlike the previous two fractures, this place is dark--inverted. Almost mechanical in design. A black background with halls, buildings, trees, rails made of code. As if they have a mesh but no skin. The code wraps over their invisible form in strings of binary and Cyrillic lettering that scroll over them, mostly in green. You see the edges of the world where the code wraps and winds over curves and corners, but beyond the black and green, there is nothing. Until one of the figures, moving stealthily, is coded red. Something about this code is angry, bright. You might want to avoid it--but out of no where, the only human figure you've seen in this world steps out. He's in full colour. Shoulder-length brown hair, a black mask and goggles over his eyes and face. A single metal arm with a red star panted on the left shoulder, the right is flesh, or so it seems. He raises a gun and shoots the red coded figure presumably in the head. It falls and the code shatters before dimming out of sight. This man--not a man. Man implies it has free will, free thought. This being is a tool. A weapon. the Soldier, acts like an anti-virus program, eliminating anything and everything that doesn't belong. Oh look, red code dances over your skin. You don't belong. The Soldier doesn't give warnings. The Soldier doesn't respond to anything that isn't a command given to it by its code. Are you HYDRA? Do you think you have what it takes to control The Soldier? Try your luck or head for that Door quickly before The Soldier turns its gun on you.

[OOC: Prose or bracket is fine with me.]

[zealots]

[If anything needs changing, please do not hesitate to fire off a PM my way.]

Even knowing what to expect, he is surprised by the extent of the damage he finds. A lesser telepath than he may have lost themselves entirely lost upon entering the wasteland, unable to separate this man's fractured memories from their own and left as anonymous as faceless as the other phantoms here. All telepaths, even the most powerful of them such as he, create familiar frames of reference to navigate the infinite complex maze of the human mind, but here in the Void that is James Barnes, all those doors lead nowhere but nowhere. He is traversing through new territory here, and proceeds cautiously.

In his own way he is a ghost too, this dark-haired man wearing the tunic and garb of not just a different decade, but a different century, a time now lost to all living memory save his own. That is one reason why it was him who was asked to come here, to do what even the Earth's mightiest heroes could not. He is no stranger to being a man out of time. But what he is seeing here is not just as disconnect with the present day; indeed, he catches split-second glimpses of form in those blurred shapes of a myriad of different times, decades that passed in minutes for this man who, like him, was forced to stand still while time kept moving for everyone else. They're all still here, for all the work Hydra did to scour them away. So too is the man

"I know what you mean," he says solemnly to Bucky Barnes in answer to his heartfelt warning, apprehensive about waits for him beyond that door. Outside of this place he is Exodus, the heir apparent to Magneto himself and one of the most powerful mutants alive. Here, all of that means nothing because this is James Barnes's mind, not his, and the nightmare that waits beyond this door is a thousand times more powerful than it would be even in the real world (where it was already plenty powerful). It is a concession, and perhaps a gambit to even the odds, that his own appearance changes as he pushes open the door, his long hair shortening to the high-and-tight style favored by WWII GIs, his tunic unraveling to reveal an olive-drab soldier's uniform from that era. No, he is not passing through as something he is not, for his identity remains the same. But to face this man's worst he must come to him wearing his best.

Through Hydra's Door now, and yes, he feels a cold pit of fear in himself when he feels it close behind him. As disjointed as it all was before, he at least still had the option to withdraw, to retreat back the way he came if he had to. But now he is trapped in this bleak hollow at the center of this man's soul, and here waits a worse fate than losing himself. Here he can be unmade entirely, and though his body will still live on in the physical world, nothing of him will ever return to it.

It's coming.

He stands his ground, despite every instinct in him screaming at him to move and run for cover. Dread hangs in this place like a fog, so thick as to almost have a tangible presence, and when the Soldier appears, it's all he can do not to surrender to the dread and retreat outright. But he doesn't. He stands at the ready, armed only with a heater shield pulled from the brightest corner of Barnes, the real Barnes's, memories.

"Come, revenant," he says to the Soldier, gesturing with one hand. "You have your orders."

He could never defeat it in a test of marksmanship, and even in hand-to-hand will be a challenge. But if he can defeat, overwrite and dismantle its code into something diffuse, then he can dismantle this place with it. Bucky Barnes will never be free of his memories, but maybe, just maybe, he may be free of Hydra's lingering legacy.

Dia Starfall | SW:TOR OC

[pathfromdarknesstogrey]

Much of Dia's mental landscape is the inside of an ancient temple. Views outside the windows reveal a rumbling, eternal thunderstorm. Rain pouring down outside, despite no visible entrance or exit. It continues on forever, gray shadows and light dominating the view.

Several emblems are scattered throughout the shadowed side of the temple. Defaced in various ways with a superheated blade.

Frisk | Undertale | OTA

[bestillmybeatingsoul]

[Frisk's mental world is mostly drab, in grays and blues, often with spooky shapes - glaring and jeering faces fit for jack-o-lanterns - barely visible when one looks directly at them, and much more noticeable in one's peripheral vision. If one listens carefully, one can hear mocking laughter coming from far away.

[The ground beneath one's feet is like thick mud or tar, clinging to limbs and making movement slower. No matter how roughly or gently one tries to shake it off, it continues to cling on.

[It passes after awhile, sinking deep into the ground again, and it seems like the sky opens up somewhat, with a brightly-glowing moon easily seen above. The surrounding houses nearby are pitch black, with only the moonlight casting even a sliver of definition over them. There's one house different from all the rest, defaced with words written in red spray paint. They're too offensive to repeat. The least-offensive are words akin to "freak".

[Frisk is nowhere to be seen. Depending on canon point, other paths may open up.

[How did you get here? This isn't a happy mind.]

[[ooc: Please note: there are themes of suicide and various kinds of bullying within this headspace. They are likely to be more prominent if you choose to ask me to age Frisk up.]]

[donotsummon]

[Bill Cipher was a frequent visitor to troubled minds. As far as Frisk's went, it was nothing new. Representations of anxiety were prominent, along with clear signs of that the human has been a victim of significant verbal, and also perhaps physical, abuse from peers. Without a doubt, he's seen it all before.

Of course, that means he knows exactly what to do once he actually locates the owner of this mindscape... including what to offer.

There's a glowing triangle here who'd like to meet you, Frisk. Maybe you could come out and say hello. After all, you do appear to have a habit of making friends with monsters.]

if you wanna run this in the same verse as our psl, it's fine by me!

[skelepunned]

[as a skeleton shrouded in mystery, sans isn't a stranger to travel - although most of his tends to be the time travel variety, as opposed to whatever place this is. he doesn't remember how he got here - just that he's here after taking one of his infamous shortcuts.

this isn't like anything he's familiar with. it's enough to put him on edge just a little, his lazy posture giving way to something straighter, eyesockets on alert, though he keeps his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets.

he walks, paying no mind to the ground beneath him, until the path opens up, formless houses sinking into shadows, save for the one smeared with red in all sorts of grotesque words.

sans grits his teeth. this wasn't a happy place, not at all.]

* hello?

[worry tinges his quiet tone, but he keeps still - no sudden movements seemed like the best of ideas.]

[veryhellpful]

[As everyone was very fond of telling him, Gwangnam was not an ordinary ghost. The full extent of how and why eluded him because for a guy like him it largely did not matter. He just got on with it, whatever 'it' was at the time. Somehow his attempt to enter a dream had gone a little wrong, ending up in a vastly deeper part of the mind.

In typical Gwangnam style, he first throws a tantrum. Apparently not considering the possibility that this may be a more delicate situation than his expertise calls for, he instead whines about the sticky floor, grabbing at one leg and trying to pull it up. Even with the ability to float, once he gets one out he has to put the other down to brace himself enough to try again. Eventually the cycle frustrates the ghost enough he ends up bellowing to the strange, dark world itself-]

Why is it so damn hard to move!? What's the trick!?

Sans | Undertale | OTA

[skelepunned]

trigger warnings for death, suicidal ideation, and unreality. if anything else comes up, i will warn accordingly!
_________

[the first thing noticeable in this world is the incessant ticking noise - it seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, the kind of clock ticking that's impossible to avoid once you've noticed it.

the second thing that's noticeable is that the entire world looks like the inside of a hellish clock. gears seem to be everywhere in all shapes and sizes, grinding and moving, though mysteriously it never feels like you're being pulled along with them.

paperwork seems to be everywhere - if you decide to pick the scraps up, they seem to be filled with scientific equations in indecipherable handwriting.

the gear platforms continue to spin, shrouded in darkness, though farther off, there seem to be larger gears with something different on each one - a lower gear has a snowy forest, while a higher gear has some kind of science lab. another gear still is barely lit, but seems to have gold somehow.]

* i just wasn't ready for the responsibility.

[it's easily missable due to the constant ticking, but someone speaks - even if it's someone who isn't present at all. his voice sounds mournful and sad - maybe you recognize it, if you know him.

there are smaller gears that work as platforms to get to where you want to go.

where will you start?]

Going with same 'verse, but will change if you'd rather not. <3

[bestillmybeatingsoul]

[They didn't know how they entered this place. The ticking is one thing. Constant, but not annoying. But it makes them more aware of their own heartbeat and breath, and sets them on edge.

[Frisk stays still, watching everything for the moment. The gears don't frighten them; they did have some fascination with them, anyway. Clocks. It's spooky, but it doesn't bother them, either.

[The papers draw them in next, and they pick them up. (If it's in WingDings, they recognize it as "that weird computer font", but they can't decipher it.)

[Looking up as they hear the familiar voice, chills go up their spine, and worry sets in.

[Sans...

[Gently setting the papers back down and giving them a little pat, they begin to traverse the smaller gears to reach the larger one with the snowy forest depicted upon it. Not because it was the first one they noticed, but because it was the first one that looks familiar to them.

[For now, they travel in silence.]

[donotsummon]

[Now this is an intriguing place. As Bill floats through the enormous clock-world he picks up the loose, scattered papers and attempts to read them. Indeed, most of the writing is too messy to discern, even for him. It's a shame, since if they were legible he'd certainly have no trouble understanding the equations, which would probably serve to tell him even more about the owner of this mindscape.

Luckily the all-seeing eye does more than just see, as even among the incessant ticking and tocking the triangular entity still manages to hear Sans's voice. He follows the sound of it, floating in that direction as fast as he can in order to locate the skeleton and meet with him face to face.]

Re: Sans | Undertale | OTA

[rosemaster]

[Honestly Rosie was almost done with whatever place this strange space was until...]

*My, you sound like you have the fate of several worlds on your shoulders. Perhaps you need someone to talk with, dearie?

[While she couldn't recall the voice enough to see a face in particular she did recall something else. The voice had a tone of misery and tiredness in it. Oh yes Rosie had heard that before...in herself and another.]

Tiz Arrior | Bravely Default | OTA

[thiswarrior]

Growing up, Tiz's dreams had mostly taken place in his village, where he'd grown up and worked. Small surprise then that the inside of his mind would resemble the town of Norende.

At least...it had. The town no longer stands so much as it lies, smashed to bits, at the bottom of a great chasm with sharp and steep walls. There are broken bodies lying in the rubble, adults and children, men and women, their faces startlingly clear in contrast to the vagueness of their injuries; sheep call in distress beyond the ruined houses. You can hear, toward the other end of the chasm, the sound of someone digging, even when they should be trying to climb up.

This probably isn't where you want to be.

Perhaps the beach, then? --which isn't really a beach, but a small grassy meadow that abruptly slopes into seawater. There are sheep milling about the meadow calmly, even straying into the water a bit, though Tiz is quick to call to them before they go too far. He's on a huge--huge, it seems to go on and on--picnic cloth with plenty of dishes and other people. It's lively and bustling, though the other picnic-goers' features, while still recognizable, seem to be just slightly blurred as they talk and laugh and eat.

Sometimes a child's voice calls from the direction of a large and vast pit off in the distance. Tiz's shoulders tense up when that happens, but otherwise he doesn't react, doesn't look that way, but laughs and jokes with his friends. Right now, it's time to have fun.

Aria Peggio | OC | OTA

[strummerclef]

No matter where you are in Aria's mind, there is always music playing. The instruments and tone may change, the volume may vary, but it always keeps an even beat. And this beat is so catchy, virtually everyone, including the intruder, feels compelled to move to the beat.

The main entryway seems to be a large, nature themed, and colorful concert hall. The stairwells and upper halls feel kind of like being in a forest contorted into a human building. Though there's nary a soul just yet, the place feels strangely lively.

The music does more than attempt to dictate the speed of everyone's movement. Depending on the intruder's intentions, it may be a sweet siren call toward the actual stage. It could be an aggressive beat that serves as a warning. Or even a sinister, sensual beat that calls the intruder back stage.

However, it's very doubtful that this intruder will be alone for very long. The mind's owner very much wants to find out what brings them here.

[[Be warned that back stage could go into perv territory. Avoid if not looking, have fun if you do. Regardless, I hope you know how to Crypt of the Necrodancer.]]

Chara - Undertale - OTA

[buttercup_eater]

[[ I'm just going to throw up a blanket warning for potential themes of suicide, child abuse, bullying, murder, and quite possibly other issues because Chara is not a very psychologically healthy person. Also, possible spoilers. ]]

Chara's mindscape is a garden encircling a tower. Except everything in the garden is dead and the tower is a crumbling ruin.

In the garden, the trees are gnarled and gray, the frail branches snapping under the limbs of anyone who attempts to climb them. Dead leaves litter the bases of the trees, all of them a uniform brown. The flowers are drooping and faded, their dull colors doing nothing to brighten up the garden, and all the flowers are missing petals and leaves. Even the grass is dead, having long since turned to a dirty pale brown.

Furthermore, the entire mindscape is covered with a visible layer of dust and ash, turning everything to even more dingy shades.

The door to the tower is locked right now, but visitors to Chara's mindscape who look up at it will notice holes in the walls of the upper stories, as well as bits where splintering wooden beams stick out like broken bones. Some stones from the tower litter the garden, covered as thickly with dust and ash as everything else. It's as if somebody made an attempt to knock the tower over long ago, and then gave up partway through.

If you stray far enough from the tower you'll notice the ground getting thinner, somehow, until you finally fall right off the edge of the garden and into a dark gray void, which happens to be the same color as the sky overhead.

And as the final touch of atmosphere, there's the constant, quiet noise of a human heart ceaselessly beating away.

Although the place seems abandoned, there are a few inhabitants lurking in the shadows of the garden. You may not wish to meet them, however...

5 and 1 mix maybe?

[dustless]

Except, suddenly, there's a tiny red flower.

A poppy, so far on the edge that its tiny roots stick right through the ground and hang above the endless void.

...and then another.

Two, three, four, all the way until there's seven, bobbing in a breeze that doesn't exist.

And then there's a child standing there between them, throwing themselves forward because it feels very much like the ground's about to give beneath their feet.