the MEMORY SHARE meme

[skateboard]

 the MEMORY SHARE meme



Before you is a small floating cube.  It calls to you, beckons you.  You have no choice but to touch it.  The moment your fingers connect with the cube you see a memory from your past.  And more then that anyone near you sees this memory as if they were experiencing it themselves as well.
 

How to:

○ Standard Name and series in the subject.

○ Do not leave your comment blank! Blank comments will be deleted.  Instead write out a memory of your character's past they see after touching the 'Memory Cube'.  It could be sad or happy, or completely irrelevant.  You could just post a line or two or do something more involved.  You could even link to a comic page or a YouTube video.  Just give other characters something they can respond to.

○ Tag out, react to other memories.

Comments

tw violence, torture, blood

[lattehottay]

[ Stone really should know better than to touch strange, floating cubes - but he's a curious man, and sometimes impulse gets the better of him. The second his fingers connect a memory flashes before his eyes - and, though he doesn't immediately realize it, before the eyes of anyone else in the vicinity. ]

The first thing he feels is pain. His entire body aches from weeks of repeated beatings, but it's his back that hurts most of all, fresh wounds stinging as the dusty air settles against his skin. He's on his knees in the centre of a cramped cell, wearing nothing but a now-ragged pair of military-issue tactical pants.

On your feet, they tell him, but it's in a language he does not understand, each syllable harsh and cruel. One of his captors kicks him in the ribs and he doubles over, hacking up blood. The men standing around him laugh and jeer, before they suddenly go quiet.

Dread fills his body. In this place, silence is the most frightening sound of all. When there's noise, it means there's someone struggling to hang on to life, to keep going despite the fact that they've apparently been abandoned and left at the mercy of madmen. But when it's quiet it means someone isn't a someone anymore. It means there's a body instead of a person. It means someone finally gave in to the hell they've endured.

Stone's not dead, though. Not yet. Behind him he hears quiet commands, issued and followed with strict efficiency. Rough hands grab him beneath the arms and hoist him up onto his feet. He has no strength left to walk, but they ignore that and drag him over to the wall, where thick, knotted strands of blood-encrusted rope hang from hooks in either corner. His face is shoved against the wall as they loop the ropes around his wrists, and after a few minutes of work they finally let go, leaving him to hang there, the entire weight of his body now supported only by his arms.

Foolish American, says a voice next to his ear, deeper and calmer than that of the men who'd been roughing him up. Stone knows this voice; he's heard it before, in passing. It's one of the highest-ranking men in this entire godforsaken torture chamber - the one who really gets off on it. Should've stayed home with your mother. Too bad she'll have no body to cry over.

The threats don't bother Stone, and not only because he hasn't got a mother to cry about him. He's become used to verbal assaults and mind games. No, it's not the words that scare him. It's the sound of something soft and deadly being unravelled. It's the sound of the man taking a step back, his boots crunching in the dirt. It's the deafening thunder of Stone's own heartbeat in his ears as he waits for what he knows is coming.

The first strike of the whip is louder than it is painful, the crack rippling like thunder across Stone's consciousness. It's the second strike that makes him cry out, and the third that leaves him screaming for mercy. By the time the fourth comes he's sobbing brokenly, head hanging between his aching shoulders, warm blood seeping down his spine and soaking the dirt beneath his battered body.

When the fifth lash connects, he passes out.

[ The memory ends abruptly and Stone stumbles back from the cube, gasping, eyes wide with fear. His back is on fire, even though no real injury has happened, not since that day in the cell. ]

diana prince | dceu

[yuvaika]

[ if there’s any memory in Diana’s life that perfectly wraps up a moment of great triumph and equally powerful devastation, it’s most certainly this moment in her childhood. ]

( aka: baby Diana resorting to cheating to try and win an athletic competition but her aunt figures it out and thwarts her efforts at the very end, shattering Diana’s dreams of glory. spoiler alert: link leads to the first ten minutes of ww84. )

[eagleswept]

[It wasn't his exhilaration, nor his despair, but Ganymede still finds himself having to catch his breath when the memory fades out. This is definitely not the way to meet someone, but there's only him and this woman - Diana - here, and he still has the lingering echo of a memory definitely not his in the back of his head.

Ganymede offers up an apologetic smile as he peers around the cube.]

I think I saw something that must belong to you. For what it's worth, I think you took that really well, after having gotten so far. [He pulls a little grimace, shaking his head.] I definitely would've been a lot more loudly upset.

[yuvaika]

[ she's distracted by the way her vivid memory lingers in the aftermath of reliving it all over again, but when Diana sees someone peer around the cube, she's immediately offering a wry smile even as she sizes him up (unfortunate side effects of being a superhero):

beautiful, soft-spoken, and charming in both tone and demeanor - probably not an enemy. ]

I think I was more in shock than anything, actually. And my aunt did well to shock that lesson of truth in me properly. Even after all these lifetimes, I still remember it well.

[ she studies him a bit longer; there's something unsettling about her companion, although it's not the sort that puts her on guard. ]

What's your name?

rika furude | higurashi no naku koro ni

[miirai]

[Honestly, Rika doesn't know what she expects when she touches the memory cube. She doesn't even know that it would project her own memories for others around her to see.

And yet, here we are.

So pick your memory.

A) Meakashi-hen - cws for suicide and torture mentions

She's in a rather traditional, Japanese estate - all wooden floors, looking rather sickly and wobbly as she looks at "Mion", rather unfocused.

"Ha, ha! Look at you!! Did you really think you could defeat me? Think again!!!"

Those are the words that mock Rika, even as she uses the wall to steady herself as she moves. There's uncomfortable groans and coughs as she calls out a name: "Hanyuuu... Hanyuuu..." before the other girl laughs even more, pleasantly amused.

"Ahahaha! This is funny, so funny. But please don't throw up here, go to the bathroom, okay? Hee hee hee! I'm going to enjoy how long it'll take for you to die. Oh, but that means I can't torture you later, huh? I've been planning to use that nail table on you. So either you choke on your own vomit and die, or I pound nails on your ten fingers. Hmm, I wonder which it will be... Okay, I know. Let's move to the underground shrine storage. I'll put you to sleep so I can move you, okay? Hee hee hee!!"

"Mion" walks closer, holding a stun gun which is already making popping sounds. Seeing the sparks, her younger self moves to grab a kitchen knife.

"Oh, are you still trying to fight? Hee hee hee! That makes things more fun. I have so much I want to ask you. I would suggest you don't fight. Well, actually, even if you don't fight back, you'll go through the same torture anyway, hee hee hee!"

The laughter is almost nauseating.

"Sorry," Rika apologizes in a way that sounds bitter, and nothing like the child one might expect her to be, much less look like, "but I refuse your invitation, you torture maniac."

"Compared to what the three families have done, this is nothing. Thank you for acknowledging me though. I should be proud of myself, huh? So? Are you seriously thinking about fighting back with a knife in that condition? You can't even stand straight..."

"You're right. This is all I can do. Before you catch me and torture me, I'm going to take care of myself."

"Take care of yourself? Huh, go right ahead!"

Suddenly, Rika turns around - she places the handle of the knife on the wall and holds it in place, saying her last few words --

"Good bye, torture maniac. I won't give you the satisfaction of killing me."

-- before throwing herself onto the knife on the wall.

B) Tsumihoroboshi-hen

In this one, she's in the school's storage shed, staring down an older girl - Rena - with a nata in her hands.

Rika is blocking the door, almost protective.

And coldly, Rena speaks.

"...You aren't afraid of me? I'm impressed, Rika-chan.

This isn't a club activity. I will kill you. Rena is mad. She will kill you."

"...Rena..."

Rika's own voice is full of worry, as shown in her expression. But it soon flickers into something more akin of amusement, a grin unbefitting of her childlike nature appearing in her features.

"...Do you think that I fear death? I have crossed a mountain range of hundreds of deaths. What have I to fear now?"

"..... You're not Rika-chan."

"...Furude Rika's body is young and powerless. But I only need to buy one minute of time." Rika grabs the mop as a makeshift weapon, grinning with even more confidence. "I'll play with you. Come and get me, cleaver girl...!"]

[OOC: As a note for any castmates that may be interested - they do not have to be from these canon points to see these memories, in fact, it might be even more fun if they aren't and are surprised and/or shocked by them! I'm also 100% down for both characters sharing a memory, or if you'd prefer a completely different memory besides the two listed above; I'm willing to do write-ups for them as well!]

Ganymede | Greek mythology

[eagleswept]

A.

There was the thunder of hooves and the rattle of a chariot all around, and Ganymede was thirteen and full of burgeoning, hopeful triumph. His brother was still right beside him, and on top of that Assaracus was on the inside, closer to the tumulus of Great-Uncle Ilus, so he had the better spot. Ganymede still felt good about his possibilities of winning the race.

He'd prayed to Apaliunas, so all he had to do was focu---

Assaracus bellowed like a stuck bull, and Ganymede looked over his shoulder, startled to find his brother having fallen behind. Fighting with broken reins and cursing fit to make Ganymede blush even as he distractedly put each and every word to memory, as unlikely as he was to use them.

Wide-eyed, Ganymede struggles for a moment with what to do, but he was already up to the tumulus, and followed it around. When he reached Assaracus, Ilus was already there, sliding off the horse he'd ridden to catch up.

"Assaracus! Are you---"

"What the shit are you doing, throwing the race? I'm fine!" Assaracus shouted at him, and Ganymede, squeezing the reins of his worked-up horses, glanced to his oldest brother. Ilus, though he was still looking Assaracus over, shot him a grin.

"You heard him. Go!"

Ganymede did, and then didn't understand at all why Assaracus promptly shouted in protest, but Assaracus was fine, he'd said so, and Ganymede found himself laughing as he won the race, if on a technicality of Assaracus being unable to finish it.

B.
"Look at me."

Ganymede let Zeus tilt his face up where he was kneeling by his feet, thumbs stroking his cheeks under his eyes, and that was too much. He blinked, and the tears spilled over.

"This will not change anything. It won't make it easier." Those gray eyes were lead and brittle, dirty ice, and Zeus’ jaw was tense past the words, the implication.

"I know." It was a bare whisper, and it trembled through him with the awful knowledge of the inevitability. He could not avert this. Troy would fall either way, Ganymede knew that. It was just... "Please, Father Zeus. I cannot stand to see my father's city fall like this, just yet. I can't---"

His voice cracked and he flinched, which covered for the way Zeus twitched too, just slightly. Those dark, heavy brows drew together, and if he was free to offer Troy's survival, offer the city whole and entire, to this royal son born from it, Zeus would have.

He wasn't.

"I can't bear it."

B because frankly, how dare you

[gentle_puck]

Puck has no real context for this kind of pain, and perhaps that makes the experience all the more miserable. The fey have lost endless acres of forest and field, of course, as the ages of iron and human development took hold, but he's never called a single place his own--not like Ganymede belonged heart and soul to Troy. The horrible clarity of the experience hammers in the essence of the human idea of home, as well.

Not just a place, but a people, and for Ganymede, an entire culture and meaning and purpose burned down to bare earth.

He and Ganymede come out of it together, like surfacing from deep water with a gasp. Robin has his arms wrapped around Ganymede from the back, holding tight, curled along the line of Ganymede's spine as if he can protect him from a body blow delivered centuries ago. "I'm sorry," he whispers, once he can speak at all. He presses his cheek to the back of Ganymede's head, words stirring the curls of his hair. "But you did bear it. You could and you did."

[what do you mean, already have a thread? such words are meaningless in the face of sad!Ganymede]

I don't know what you mean, I'm an angel :)

[eagleswept]

Sometimes, curiosity really doesn't pay off. This is one of those times, and Ganymede hadn't at all expected what had happened when he touched the floating cube. Worse, it wasn't just memory, smoothed out at least somewhat by the intervening centuries. It was like kneeling in the council hall again, polished tile and marble under his knees, clutching Zeus' knees and the hem of his tunic with shaking hands and feeling like he was going to fly apart.

That hadn't even been the worst of it.

"I still haven't been back." Pressing trembling hands against his face, Ganymede just stands there for a moment or two, grateful for the way Puck's practically wound around him. His voice hitches a shade when he draws breath to continue, muffled behind his hands. "He did stop the fighting, that day. Covered Troy in red mist and chased the Achaeans off with lightning."

But Zeus had been right. It hadn't made anything easier, though that particular moment had become bittersweet in the aftermath. Yet one more day of thwarting both the Achaeans and the gods that were on their side. Yet another day of waiting for the inevitable end.

[Angst for everybody involved! thank you for indulging me. ;)]

Number Five | The Umbrella Academy | OTA

[oldmanfive]

[ Scenario A: The cube would share the memory of Five uses what is left of his strength to rewind time to save his family from dying in Sissy's barn in Dallas. It's not exactly a memory he wants to share let alone remember.

or

Scenario B: The cube shows the memory when thirteen year old Five finds the adult bodies of his siblings among the rubble of the ruined city in the apocalypse. Focusing in on the moment he realizes that they are in fact his siblings because he sees the umbrella tattoo visible on Klaus' corpse. Again, not a memory he wants to share let alone remember.]

B

[scarlettwin]

[It hadn't been what Wanda thought it would be. An object that held some sort of power and then a flash of light. A memory on full display that was not meant for her to see of someone she knew. She took a deep breath, in through her nose and slowly out through her lips. She says nothing, letting the scene play out until the memory fades away leaving her and Five alone, the object forgotten. Her mind focused on the man before her.]

It never leaves you. [A statement spoken softly, words filled not with pity but...empathy, understanding. Images, memories that would forever haunt them until they died. Only in death would they be granted some semblance of peace.]

At least, you were able to save them. [He succeeded where she continued to fail...continued to lose people she loved, over and over again.]

[oldmanfive]

[ Five inhales sharply as the invasion of his memories fade and his hand drops away from the cube. He frowns feeling violated but unable to fully express his indignation over it. He glances over to Wanda when she speaks, the only thing keeping him from snapping at her is the expression on her face and the knowledge that she's experienced a lot of lost as well. ]

I know. It took me over forty five years to finally save them...but that doesn't make the memories go away.

[ He managed to save his family for the time being, but all the trauma he has suffered won't go away...probably never. ]

A

[findingtruth]

[The memory - a scene of desperation and bloodshed - flashes before Nancy's eyes. She watches time move backward, sees Five's last-minute attempt to save his siblings from violent deaths, and she knows she'd do the same thing if she'd been in his position.

She remains silent, lips pursing together in thought while the memory plays itself out. Her arms cross over her chest, and she thinks of Barbara Holland. Barb. Her best friend. She'd finally managed to bring light to her death, and she'd given the Holland family some closure. Some peace, hopefully. But the guilt never goes away. Neither does the regret. If Nancy had the opportunity to turn back time, she'd tell Barb to stay home. She'd stay with her instead of going to that stupid party. Then she'd deal with the Demogorgon and Hawkins Lab.

When the memory ends, she turns to Five, wearing an expression of empathy. The way she looks at him seems slightly apologetic as well. The memory probably wasn't something he wanted her to see, after all.]

I'm glad you were able to save them.

[oldmanfive]

[ His hand drops away from the cube as his memory fades. It takes him a moment to compose himself and rein in his anger at the invasion of his mind. He hasn't talked about this memory with anyone. His siblings don't even realize how close they were to a final end.

Now that memory is out there and as much as he wants to shove it back into the bottle he can't. He glances over to Nancy as she speaks, noting the look on her face. After a moment of silence, he finds the words to reply. ]

Do me a favor, if you come across my family...don't tell them what happened.

[ He doesn't really want any of them to know right now, maybe never. ]

Bruce Wayne • Well all know what this memory is going to be

[gqmotherfucker]

[As soon as it begins, he understands what is about to happen, and he understands he is as powerless to stop it as he has always been to stop the nightmares, as powerless as he was on that long ago night.]

[The film re-enactments are endless – maybe you've even seen one before – but the reality... the reality of what happened that night is worse.]

[The first bullet does not hit Thomas Wayne, the way it always seems to in adaptations. The bullet finds Martha, and as she crumples to the ground like a puppet whose strings have been cut. An inhuman noise crashes over Bruce like a wave, the last sound leaving Thomas Wayne's lips, his wife's name. It sounds like a man's will to live leaving his body.]

[Then the second bullet silences him.]

[Martha does not die as quickly.]

"It's okay, Bruce. It's going to be okay. Call Alfred. You must call Alfred, trust no one else. Hurry. Alfred will know what to do."

[The memory becomes a blur as Bruce runs, desperate to find a payphone. The time it takes for the call to go through, waiting as the phone continues to ring seems to stretch into an eternity, and though so much of that night has been carved indelibly into Bruce's memory, the words that fall from Bruce's lips are indistinct as he sobs into the receiver. He can't remember what he said to Alfred, only that he was an incoherent mess.]

[By the time Bruce finds his way back to them, the details have changed. Thomas' jacket has been straightened. His eyes have been closed. Martha has laced her fingers with her husband's, one final time. Martha is already gone.]

[Face streaked with tears, Bruce curls up between the corpses of his parents, their blood, not yet cold, soaking into his clothes.]

[This is what true love looks like to Bruce Wayne.]

[Two hands, locked together in death.]

---

[OOC: All due credit for this goes to unpretty's Christmas in Kansas, of which mine is but a pale shadow, a paraphrase. You will love hers so much more. Go shower her with love.]

Ichigo Hitofuri | Touken Ranbu | OTA

[droppedasdew]

(OOC: Contains spoilers for Ichigo's Kiwame reveals. I'm keeping the toplevel as general as possible, but will reveal more specific details once the thread started.)

A. Glorious Time
[Everything is like a picture perfect replication of the past, but it's like the world is covered in a grey filter.

It's yet another victory under Hideyoshi Toyotomi. Standing by the feudal lord's side is another Ichigo Hitofuri or Tenka Hitofuri. Taller, grander and prouder than the Ichigo Hitofuri, who just touched the Memory Cube from a strange impulse. He raise his head to see his past self, who feel so distant from his current, inferior form.

Especially as Hideyoshi made his loud declaration of victory.]

B. A Peaceful Time
[Everything is still grey. But the scenery was familiar: Osaka Castle. It's a rare moment of quiet, when Tenka Hitofuri was able to spend time with the other Toyotomi swords. Ichigo observes as his old self spend time with his brothers (Honebami looks more expressive and open back then), as well as other swords the Toyotomi clan received or taken over the years.

Mikazuki Munechika, Souza Samonji, they're just a few of many the Toyotomi owned. And Tenka Hitofuri converse with all of them easily, charisma seemingly flowing from him.

Ichigo Hitofuri stay silent, although there's a small smile at seeing his brothers. It still didn't fill up the emptiness inside of him.]

C. Siege of Osaka
[Even with the grey colours, it's obvious everything was on fire. The great and wonderful Tenka Hitofuri, trapped in the burning building with no living humans around to carry him to safety. Between the roars of the flames, the sounds of the military forces can be heard outside of the window.

Ichigo stare at his past, fallen self with a distant look. It's not controlled, just merely... distant.]

Back then... that's when I lost it all.

Eskel || The Witcher (any) || OTA

[wolfdogwitcher]

One might think that his worst memory would be the one about the ruin of his face. About a knife swung with such violence that it cracked him in the teeth as it laid his flesh open down to the bones and ruined his right eye. Or the memory of trying to clean up his own mess far too late, taking the same knife from the cold, lifeless hands of the young woman he had whom he had failed unforgivably. But it isn't.
Please don't die, please don't die, please don't die... Repeated over and over and over in his head like a prayer. He's not supposed to feel fear anymore; this horrific, suffocating feeling in his chest must be something else. They'd burned the fear of them, hadn't they, out of the Trialed novices? Burned and beaten it away in the crucible of alchemy that changed foundling boys--already made fast and strong and clever by a decade of training-- into witchers, magically perfected killing machines from a half-forgotten time. Only three in ten survive the process. And to survive did not always mean an end to one's torment, only an opportunity for the masters to further test the limits of their broken and refigured bodies. Eskel had never been so grateful to have fallen behind his brothers in anything, even if the sentiment fills him with guilt as he sits beside a newly-fledged witcher he barely recognizes despite having known him for so long he knows no life without him. Geralt, his hair gone snow-white, his body dragged through some other, new circle of hell Eskel could only imagine. He's sure he's not meant to be in their natures, sitting at his brother's side. Witchers do not do comfort well, it is not in their teachings and not meant to be in their natures. But Eskel suspects that it is Papa Vesemir's intervention that keeps the other masters from intruding. With one pale hand clutched in his own, the young witcher lays his head on the mothy blanket that covers Geralt's body and closes newly-yellowed eyes, at least giving into the exhaustion of his vigil. Please don't die. Please don't die...

peter grey (petrelli) | heroes x pathology | ota

[vivicidal]

1.

The moment that Peter touches the cube, he's met with an unmistakable corridor, one that he had ventured down on many occasions. It's long, dimly lit, mostly empty, and leads directly to a very secluded wing. It's been abandoned for as long as he could remember, none of the other pathologists had any use for a morgue that was in an inconvenient area. It was the perfect setup and location for a dark and twisted after-hours game that only a select few were invited to play.

As he approaches the double doors, he can hear the familiar voices of his fellow colleagues. The leader of the group mentions a special surprise for the night's game, and he wants everyone there to bear witness. When Peter walks through the doors, every one of the game participants is there, except for one; Dr. Juliette Bath.

The leader, Dr. Jake Gallo, looks entirely deranged with a grin spread across his face, "Dr. Grey, I'm glad you could finally join us," He holds his arms out, and drops his hands to gesture to the dissection table with a body covered in a white sheet.

"Now that we're all here," He pauses to look around the room at everyone, and Dr. Ben Stravinsky speaks up, "Juliette isn't here yet."

Gallo narrows his eyes and quickly moves to forcefully wrap his hand around his throat, "Shut your goddamn mouth, and let me finish," The other man's eyes are wide, nodding quickly, while everyone else remains unfazed. When Gallo releases him, he stumbles back, coughing and gasping for breath.

"As I was saying," Gallo continues, "Now that we're all here, let the lamp fix its beam," He reaches up and flicks the surgical light on before whipping away the white sheet to reveal that Dr. Juliette Bath was their next game.

The room falls completely silent, while Gallo reaches out to touch her face, maneuvering her head to face him for one last look. Stravinsky utters a quiet, "What the fuck..." Gallo instantly snaps, "What the fuck?" He shouts incredulously and turns his attention to him, daring him to say another word. Yet again, the room is utterly silent for what feels like hours, and Peter takes this opportunity to quietly rig the gas with the intention of killing everyone after he makes his escape.

The doctor that holds Gallo's attention looks around the room, searching for a way out, as well as the support of his fellow game participants. Instead, he's met with emotionless stares while Dr. Griffin Cavenaugh tries to casually take a swig from his flask, hand shaking as he does so. Everyone in the room is terrified on some level, but none will break character.

Stravinsky finally turns his attention to his surgical bag, "Alright, let's do this," He says, and pulls out a pack of cigarettes to help calm his nerves, while panic strikes Peter instantly. He eyes the exit, contemplating making a run for it...too obvious, so instead, he casually takes a few steps closer while also watching Stravinsky.

Gallo returns his attention to everyone in the room, and Peter stops dead in his tracks, "Doctors, let's have a look inside."

Just as Stravinsky lifts the lighter to the cigarette between his lips, Peter's heart skips a beat as he makes a run for it, capturing the attention of everyone in the room...but it's too late. The morgue is engulfed in flames, and everyone is caught in the explosion, Peter included. He can still remember the heat, the flames licking at every inch of his body, the scorching pain that engulfed every nerve...and then nothing as everything fades to black.

Peter doesn't know how long he was dead for, but he suddenly wakes to a room still burning, heat surrounding him, and charred bodies littered at the edges of the morgue. When he sits up, he immediately peers down at himself, noticing his own charred flesh healing right before his eyes.



2.

The memory of Peter's first vivisection (warning: link contains images of blood and gore)
[ Also ignore the third party in the gifset ]

Eddie Kaspbrak • It • ota

[riskanalyst]

1. (childhood; can hit you back as adult Eddie or kid Eddie so let me know your preference)

[ Eddie and his friends are terrorized by a shapeshifting killer clown and it nearly kills him. ]

2. (adulthood) [ Eddie returns to his hometown and the reunion dinner with his friends gets dark real quick. ]

if you don't mind me being slow as molasses -- 1

[beepbeepboy]

[ Watching that memory over again from Eddie's perspective is somehow even more terrifying than reliving the one that's buried in the back of Richie's own head. He knew Eddie had been terrorized - he'd almost been eaten, for fuck's sake - but it never felt real to Richie. It was just too hard to comprehend, back then and after they met up again as adults.

As the images fade he realizes his heart's pounding, and the distinct feeling of nausea settles over him like a heavy fog. Swallowing, he turns to Eddie, carefully reaching out a hand to grasp the shorter man by the shoulder. He's planning to ask if Eddie's okay, but what comes out instead is -- ]

I'm sorry.

[ There's regret in his voice, fresh as the day he first felt it. After all, wasn't it his fault that Eddie ended up there? ]

Kainé | NieR: Gestalt | TW: Blood, Gore, Bullying, body shaming (if you know what this is about)

[pissoffbook]

The sound of rain filled the village. The steep cliffs that surrounded the area magnified sound, causing even the slightest drizzle to rattle like a thunderstorm. Thin wisps of smoke streamed from huts as the villagers huddled in their homes and waited out the rain.

A single child, however, had braved the downpour, and was now wandering slowly toward the wooden, hawk-shaped
weather vane at the center of town. The wanderer reached the vane, which had existed for as long as any could remember, and stared. The child's face was simultaneously delicate and fierce—like a teacup that had survived a shipwreck. Those traits combined with pale white skin to give the face an almost sexless quality.

"If the beak turns east, I go home. If it stays west, then I... I..." The child blinked. Rain slowly dripped down the young one's short hair and began its long descent to the ground. "Come on. Come on!"

The child felt a slight breeze and watched as the vane slowly creaked to life. Spinning this way and that for a moment, it finally settled with the beak pointing firmly
toward the east.

"East...? Really?"

Before the vane could move again, a jagged rock came spinning and tumbling through the air, finally striking home against the child's head. The force of the blow dropped the child to the ground as a hail of stones began to fall all around.

"Oh no. They found me..."

A heartbreaking smile crept across the child's face as the stones continued their assault. Through the rain, the sound of multiple footsteps grew louder before a voice rang out.

"Yoo-hoo! Kainé!"

The voice belonged to Dimo, worst of all the bullies in The Aerie.

As Kainé struggled to stand, a final stone came skittering through the mud and bounced against her foot. Blood oozed from a cut above her eye and blurred her vision, but she could make out the shapes of Dimo and his usual gang of idiots. The boy seemed taken aback for a moment by Kainé's seeming indifference to the blood dripping from her face, but quickly regained his bravado.

"What's up, freak? You like the rain? You like gettin' all wet? Or did you finally decide to run away from home?"

Though she knew it was futile, Kainé turned to leave. Before she could get more than a few steps, the other children scrambled to surround her, cruelty burning in their eyes.

Kainé knew those were not the only eyes on her; the tormentors' parents watched from the safety of their homes. She was attuned to this sensation—it was one she had experienced many times before. While some villagers simply turned a blind eye to the actions of their children, many encouraged it openly. In a society ruled by superstition and fear, Kainé was something to be hated, and if possible, destroyed.

"I didn't say you could leave, freak." Dimo's words chewed at her like a worm through an apple.

"He can't hurt me," she lied to herself. "Be strong. Be brave. He can't hurt me. He can't hurt me. He can't hurt—"

"Oh, look! The little freak's gonna cry! What's wrong? Are you sad that everyone hates you and wants you dead?"

Kainé prayed for the rain to flood down and carry her away from a world that seemed to have no place for her. But if there were gods, they chose to ignore her. As Dimo crept ever closer, the clouds began to thin and the rain slowed.

"Even the weather hates me. I'm useless. A failure... I wish Dimo's rock had taken my head off." Kainé couldn't meet Dimo's leering gaze; she lowered her eyes are stared at the muddy ground below. The bully moved forward until he was inches away. She could smell the scent of old meat on his breath.

The boy grabbed Kainé's face with thick fingers and yanked it upward. She tried to turn away, but he forced her gaze back and jammed his thumb against her eyelid to pry it open.

"You're a freak."

"...N-no. I'm not."

"Did you just say no?" Dimo grinned evilly. "You don't say no to me. No one says no to me." Not even taking his attention from Kainé, he called to his cohorts, "Come on, guys! Let's give the freak what she deserves!"

As soon as Dimo finished, kicks and blows began to rain down upon Kainé. Dimo paused, still grinning, as Kainé curled into a ball and tried to make the pain stop. "I don't get you, freak. Whatcha acting like a girl for, huh? Everyone knows what you really are!"

Kainé ignored the question, choosing instead to stare at the weather vane. It continued to point east, as if supremely confident about the future it had chosen for her.

"Go home? Yeah, that's a funny joke for someone with dead parents and no home to go to." she thought.

"Freak!" chanted the children. "Freak, freak, freak!"

Kainé closed her eyes and listened to the rain, waiting for the pain to start again. As the clutching hands of the village children closed around her, she bent her mind to the sound of the rain, letting it become her world entire.

Kainé screamed as the memory shot through her head like a bolt of lightning.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" she yelled as she threw the cube as hard as she could. It hit the ground bouncing once and shattering into a myriad of shining black and white shards that new littered the strange marble flooring. There was also a good sized dent where it had originally hit displaying the strength that the woman had.

It took Kainé a long while to catch her breath, her chest heaving with the exertion of her screams.

She wasn't aware of where she was, or how she had gotten here, but the strange cube and it's allure had caused her nothing but grief and she was damn glad to be rid of it. However, what she also wasn't aware of, was that she wasn't alone in viewing her memory.

Re: Kainé | NieR: Gestalt | TW: Blood, Gore, Bullying, body shaming (if you know what this is about

[yorhaberserker]

A2 had entered the strange room, not sure how she herself had gotten there. But she was there now, and she saw a woman standing there, touching a cube, seemingly mesmerized by it. She could tell that she was no android, but an organic lifeform. That took her a bit by surprise when she found herself getting sucked into the vision that she was seeing. Her eyes went wide seeing the abuse that the girl in the memories was putting up with. Kainé, must be the woman’s name. She thought as she found herself an unwilling voyeur to her most private memories.

After what seemed like an eternity she jumped, hearing Kainé scream out and throw the strange cube that looked like a machine core. She had to dodge it quickly as it came straight at her, shattering where she had been standing a split second before. She glanced at where it hit and shook her head. “Damn good thing I moved when I did.” She said dryly as she turned to look at Kainé. “That could have done a shit ton of damage to my chassis. You okay?” She asked, her head tilting in the other woman’s direction, her arms crossed over her chest.

A2 - NieR: Automata

[yorhaberserker]

A2 wandered into what had appeared as an empty cave. She had been all over this place and she had never seen this particular cave before. She stepped into it, looking around and taking in her surroundings. Moving deeper she blinked as it started to brighten unexpectedly. It got so bright that it took the android a moment or two to get her eyes to adjust. Once they had she saw what appeared to her a black box, just floating there. “A black box?” She questioned out loud. Soon she had an overwhelming urge to reach out and grab it. Her hand wrapped around the object and she found herself falling into her own mind.

Finishing the harrowing descent to earth I looked around at the surviving members of my squad. Out of sixteen units, only four of us were left. Twelve lost their lives from the enemy machines’ aerial attacks. There was absolutely no way to succeed this mission, and it left me…an inadequate, mediocre attack unit as the captain. Shit. I can’t be a captain! No.1 should have survived, not me.

No.21 had to break me out of my stupor. “We should tell Command to abort.” She said, rational as always.

“Oh! Yes! I think that’s a good idea.” I hear myself agree. How stupid I must have sounded. I knew even more so that I was not meant to be in this position. It just happened because I was the following code number.

No.21 opened up the Transmission to command and I heard Futaba’s voice reply. “This is Command, over.”

“Command, under these conditions, continuation of the mission is impossible. Out of sixteen of us, only four are still functional. I repeat. We request the abortion of this mission.”

What we heard next was like a gut punch for the four of us.

“This is Command to the YoRHa squadron. We prohibit the abortion of the mission.”

I went back and forth with Command for a few more short minutes, trying to argue our position. Didn’t Command understand? Failure was assured with just four of us. Or did they just not care? Were we disposable to them?

“This is an order.” With those cold, heartless words they completely severed the transmission, cutting us off and leaving us without hope.

A2 screamed as she finally let go of the strange black box, pulling her sword she stabbed through it downward. “Fucking Command! Why were we meant to be killed?! For data?!” She was furious as she knelt leaning on the hilt of her sword. The memories from the box had broken open the carefully placed lock that A2 had set so that she could continue living. She used the pummel of her sword to rest her forehead while she gathered back her center, to calm down.

Hi! Mina sent me :3

[become_as_gods]

There was someone else here. Not a machine, not by the sound of soft footfalls and the lack of ringing metal, at least.

But she was still repairing, and she couldn't afford to take the risk of being found just yet.

2B waits, quietly, for any indication of the stranger approaching any closer to her hiding spot, until-

"A Black Box?"

Huh? That voice was-

And then she wasn't in the cave any more. If 2B had a biological stomach, she'd think this hologram... No, it's a memory. Is this what it would feel like to have your stomach drop?

She grits her teeth against feeling A2's helplessness, her rage. She can't help but understand.

And then it's over.

2B exhales, trying not to shake. There's a soft sound of metal stabbing into dirt as the android uses her sword to lift herself up from her sitting position. She strengthens herself, keeping her limp as soft as she possibly can, and walks over.

"You know that answer."

[hunter_maverick]

In the back of the cave, something could be heard stirring. A low hum at first before a sort of grim laughter could be heard. There in the darkness a machine predating the aliens' invasion, and even the fall of humanity sat, chained to a wall in an eternal prison. The very nature of his being keeping him from simply dying, and the restraints put on both body and mind keeping him from leaving. However, as he stirred from his slumber, two crimson eyes began to glow in the darkness, peering through A2.

"I see humanity continues to view us as disposable tools, even long after their filth has been wiped from this world."

hi, I hope an OC's okay? O:

[blossominghopes]

To say that Lia was lost was something of an understatement. She'd taken shelter in this cave for the time being, hoping that this was just some sort of... weird dream. The sound of someone's approach made her fall silent and take cover.

She remains silent as she watches A2 from her hiding place... though she's not silent for much longer, as she watches the memory play out around her. This is-- this was...

... A mission where none were meant to survive. She doesn't know A2, but Lia's heart breaks for her all the same. A gasp escapes her as the memory ends, giving away her hiding place.