It may very well be the worst thing that's ever happened to you! | OPEN MINGLE

[vitaelamorte]

Who: EVERYONE!
Where: EVERYWHERE!
When: Friday October 27th - Tuesday October 31st
Rating: PG-13, warn if you're gonna go higher!
Summary: A catch all for the Horrible Memory Truth Event!
The Story:

For the duration of this event, everyone's entire room will be replaced with a memory playing on loop. They will likely recognize the moment as soon as they see it – it is a moment they remember as the worst moment of their entire lives. It could be a memory from home or something that happened in Wonderland. Lengths of the memories will vary, but they will find that these are not memories they can merely watch – they can step into these memories and attempt to make changes to them, and the memories will be long enough that they have time to make changes (though no more than 24 hours). However, anyone who tries will find that it is futile. No matter what you do or how hard you try, the outcome is always exactly the same somehow. No changes you make will prevent that horrible outcome. It just happens over and over and over again no matter what you do.

On top of that, perhaps complicating any attempts to make changes, everyone will be forced to be honest for the duration of the event. No lies or half-truths are allowed, and filters will be gone for the entire five days. If something bothers someone then they will blurt it out, regardless of whether or not it hurts someone's feelings, and no one will be able to simply keep quiet when they have something to say. They must be truthful and honest with every word they say.

This is a catch-all log for all of your Worst Memory needs! Please mark your threads clearly in the subject line with your character's name and Room Number + Floor for character rooms, or just location if you're making a top level for a public place in the mansion (like the tea rooms or the kitchen) so people can see if there's already a thread available. And here's the plot post if you need it!

Have fun!

Comments

[kryptomight]

He did forget me, once. ( obviously it wasn't bad enough to be his worst memory, but. ) Mr. Mxyzptlk. . erased me? I guess? But Mom and Dad both forgot who I was for a little while.

( jon's very pointedly keeping his eyes away from damian's as he speaks, nose wrinkled in distaste. ) I made them remember because I was there, but this time--I'm here, and I don't know where they are. What if they forgot and I can't help them?

( being paranoid and pessimistic is damian's job, but--sometimes, he can't help it. jon is still only a child, and sometimes--he can't avoid negative thoughts. )

closed to elena.

[eyething]

They've been sticking close to each other since the Event announcement.

They don't want to take chances after the last one where they were separated and then torn to shreds when they finally found each other again, but it means they're both in the room when it happens. Damon means to step outside of the room briefly while Elena's busy talking to someone on the network device, trying to figure out what happened. He doesn't expect to see two doors in front of him. He has no idea what lies behind either one.

This must be the Event. He steps forward, toward the one. He opens it- All he does, it's opening it, thinking he'll tell Elena- tell her something happened. They're a team now after all even if he's still incredibly protective of her. He'd take her place- He would.

But he opens the door and he immediately recognizes the memory (the fire, the coffin, he thought he'd killed her, and he finally understands what Alice meant. The worst thing. This was the worst thing to ever happen to him. She was sleeping soundly in a coffin for years (and will for many, many fucking goddamn more because of his mother), and he thought he'd burned her alive so she'd never wake up, never get to live a life at all, and he would never get to see her again.

He wanted to die. He tried to die. The Hellstone drilled a hole in his head he's not sure ever got fixed.)

He's quick to leave. He doesn't bother to change it. Now he knows it wasn't Elena after all. The Hellstone just made him think it. It wasn't her, but he's shaking when he leaves it. It's right there. If she sees, if she asks, he's- he can't tell her. He can't but what the fuck can he say about what's on the other side of that door?

His fingertips dig into it hard. He's panicking. He's holding the door closed as if it's the boulder- the mountain that's weighed down on him since showing up. He doesn't realize how long he's been gone. She'll see- she'll notice, and she does-

The door swings open. He forgets how to breathe like a panicked animal for the first time since being trapped in that cage. There's no escape from this. There's no saving her from this, no protecting her from this anymore, but he would give anything- anything for her to never find out.

But like he could never wake her up, he can't stop this.

[mucked]

[ his second cup won't go unnoticed. it's such a simple thing when he refills his cup -- mirroring a month of similar gestures with whiskey bottles, so much so that she already knows what he's about to do when his arm lifts. she knows it before his fingers even touch the thermos. it's more than an indication of rip's mental state; the second cup is her signal to stay where she's seated. unspoken permission to hold guard with him. to keep talking.

no matter the risks posed. no matter that she didn't bring sugar along. ]

I did. [ it's easily said. and fora brief tick of time, peggy almost convinces herself it's a truth she'd given up willingly. not so, however, when the rest rushes out. ] I wasted the better part of my Friday on it.

[ pleading; promising she would find him; confessing a love she'd like to pretend is gone but in truth it still sits lodged in her heart like an arrowhead. still, steve's plane crashed. peggy, this is my choice -- and oh, how she wished she could rob him of it.

equally, she wished she wasn't forced to confront the selfishness lurking toe-to-toe with love. ]

Nothing changed. [ he doesn't need her to say it; her tongue wags anyway. this particular line of conversation is just merciful enough that she doesn't go blurting her memory out in frantic, unhappy syllables. instead, she keeps her voice calm. ] After I saw your broadcast, I locked the door. I haven't been back since.

[ peggy hadn't said a word over the network. but, it seems, she'd been watching all the same. monitoring, really. ]

[sonofab]

[Well that much he didn't know. This must've been another one of those things that happened in the future...] I didn't know your parents forgot you to.

[Damian notices Jon avoiding eye contact. That won't do, Jon. He moves his hands up to cup Jon's face and make the boy look at him.] No one has erased you this time Jon and if they did forget you, you'll make them remember again when we get back.

[didntknowbest]

Oh. So, they would have listened to her all along. She could have just...

...Except. Her train of thought is quickly interrupted. Something about it doesn't... it couldn't really have been that easy, could it? And normally, she'd just quash that thought down, blame herself for causing so, so many problems because of her own unwillingness to try. But instead, she voices that thought.

"What about outside of that best path?" she asks them. "Do I come for you then? Do the people listen to me in the timelines where you did not personally show everyone how not all humans are bad?"

She feels stupid for asking, really. Like she knows what the answer is going to be.

ota.

[eyething]

After Elena finds out, he's hollowed out.

He'd been holding on to it so tightly for so long (panicking when he found her deep asleep unable to wake her, losing it when Wonderland sent her back, rushing to Regis as an absolute mess).

He sinks to the floor outside of their room.

The door's slightly open, and he can hear the noise of the memory happen over and over again. He's desperate to see her. He takes Tyler out on the way. His hallucination tells him what he heard on an endless loop that year (what you really are is dark and evil and terrible and a monster, and the hellstone has remade you so you could embrace who you really are). Damon learned better after that. He put himself in a coffin, and it didn't fix anything. Damon had to choose that himself, but it doesn't mean he can't remember what it was like in the moments following setting her on fire, how much it felt like everyone's beliefs (including and especially his own were confirmed).

He tried to stop the hallucination by setting it on fire- Henry on fire. Henry was a real person once a long time ago on one of the worst days of Damon's life (which he relived over and over again in the Hellstone. This Event sounds familiar. Hopefully it doesn't come with its own hallucinations).

But he doesn't- he can't move from this spot.

[directed]

[Simple, yet significant; and yes, even without the sugar he seems willing enough to drink again, rather than claim that he's had a few bites, a few sips to match, so Peggy's due diligence is done and she can be on her way. Few in this mansion could receive such an offer should they show up as she had. Peggy, perhaps, might be the only one whom he has not known outside of Wonderland.

She speaks of how she spent her first day, the hours that passed before Rip had gathered the will to transmit his broadcast for those of Wonderland, and he's reminded of one particularly angry man who berated him for too little effort offered too late in the day. It seems such very well might be the case with Peggy--or she might have stubbornly gone on anyway, decided to prove Rip and the universe itself wrong, that she could make a change.

The tea's still warm when he sips it; still bitter, without anything to sweeten it.]

I told you when we first met that I worked for an organization called the Time Masters. That was true for a time. [But not when she first limped out of his closet, or even when Rip himself dropped into the fountain outside during the winter prior.] I betrayed them and stole one of their ships in order to attempt to save my family. Went back in time over and over to try and rescue them from--this.

[Not Wonderland, obviously. Rip need only look at the door for Peggy to understand.]

I failed. The only thing that changed was that I was forced to watch my family die, rather than finding their bodies in the aftermath.

[bravejemma]

No.

[She chokes out the answer before she can check herself, and gives up on the pretense of being anything resembling in control. The outpouring of emotion isn't like her at all; even breakdowns are normally tightly controlled things for her.]

» tea room

[mucked]

[ -- and his self-flagellation, his guilt, his raking himself over the coals of his own perceived inadequacy...it's all very heartrending. and if peggy had a moment to think to herself, she might have found a kind word to say.

but the event compels her onward. with a tilt of her chin, she asks the obvious question: ] Does this mean you're dead back home?

[ the way he described it? she has no reason not to believe he isn't talking about a legitimate complete death. ]

[angewiesen]

"Everyone's capable of being a horrible person," Jean tried to say in an unaffected manner, although it was clear that he was concerned over her sudden admittance to him. He knew she was fretful but... "Trust me. People are complicated. They're not all good or all bad all the time."

[suspense_kills_me]

Behind mine? The day my daughter died. [He sighs] It wasn't real. The whole thing was faked. It still feels real, even now.

[He downs the rest of his drink and pours another for himself.]

War is a terrible business....is your husband's about the war too?

[mucked]

[ what peggy had done on friday -- on that first day -- had been to take what she couldn't change and seal it away. her first instinct upon reviewing rip's broadcast had been to find something she could change. take all her nervous energy and channel it into something better, if such a thing even existed. so she remembered the glimpse of red and gold at her window mid-plea (sixth, eighth, tenth attempt to talk steve down from his choice) and she'd gone to check on tony. she feels...responsible for him in that same starched fashion: he's not even a blood relative and lord knows she doesn't owe howard any favours, but he is who he is. and for that alone peggy had seemed intent to see him through this.

and for her efforts she got another shock to her heart. the rest of her friday had been spent in mourning. the fact of the matter is...she feels more prepared to hear out rip's story, now, because at least she knows it'll have no bearing on her own life. she can be supportive without being subjective. it's a role she's sorely missed.

peggy claims another pastry. they're sirens, sitting there untouched. something to do with her free hand. something to chew and swallow and engage her mouth so that she doesn't go bursting between his sentences and interrupting him with things she'd ordinarily know better than to say.

and at the given gap in rip's words, she also glances back to the door. still, it looms. ]

...So. This event is less figurative and far more literal than I first suspected. [ time wants to happen, he'd said. the words stick in her thoughts and cycle around all her others. this isn't some ghoulish analogy trapped in their rooms. for rip, it was ghoulish reality.

all the pastry in the world can't stop her next question: ] How many attempts did you make?

[angewiesen]

Jean noticed Mondo when he first wandered into the hall, and may have given him a Bro Nod-- after taking in his hair, holy shit, how did he make it stand up like that!-- because Apathy Couch buddies should stick together. Still, he kept to himself, and his chips and reading, until Mondo spoke up.

"Yeah," he replied after chewing and swallowing, "it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. It's a pretty common nightmare. What about you?"

» tea room

[hypoxic]

What? Oh -- no, nothing like that.

[It's just that his penchant for hyperbole manages to find a way even during an event like this.]

I wasn't dead for very long. It was still within a reviveable timeframe. [Because bringing people back from the edge of death is something they can do in the future.] My brain was without oxygen for several minutes, but the brain damage was minimal. As. Minimal as can be expected. [He should stop there, but he doesn't.] I had to relearn speech. It was a frustrating time. Still have episodes every here and there -- they're quite embarrassing when they happen.

[saved]

Hey, it's okay.

It's okay to not be okay. These memories in our rooms are- They're terrible. ( They're the worst moment of their lives like Alice said. She really did tell them what was coming, but there was no way to prepare for this.

Peter finally lets his hand reach out the rest of the way, resting against her arm, squeezing it tightly before he kind of tugs her a little toward him so he can hug her if she'll let him, if that would help. )

[sonofab]

FUCK OFF! [Damian screamed and lifted his legs to press his feet to the door and keep it closed. Jon couldn't back out if he couldn't open the door. No leaving. He was staying here. He had to--Had to--]

Just leave me. Why are you doing this? [He says hoarse and strained as he pushes at Kent's arms and face, trying to break from his iron grip. He hears Jon's words and at first, they don't seem to have any effect on him... but a broken little sound slips out of him.

A sob? A whine? It was hard to tell because the teen quickly covers it with a growl. He grit his teeth and his hand stop pushing, only gripping tightly where they rest on Jon's arms and hair.]

Just leave you fucking abom-- [Another sob slips past his gritted teeth. Closing his eyes tightly his forehead presses to Jon's and he let out a scream of frustration and pain as some tears start to roll down his cheeks. Suddenly he threw his arms around Jon's neck and buried his face in the boy's neck. His shoulders shaking as he tries to keep his cries silent.]

Mettaton | OTA | Second Floor, Room 19 and Elsewhere

[mettatonvevo]

Mettaton's Room

[The memory is an easy one to catch him off guard. After all when he wakes up there's no difference in his room. No difference in the weather. Everything is exactly where it was before. There are only a few details that set this morning apart. For one, Mini is strangely absent from the room. For another, he finds an odd invitation to a party on his bedside desk. It sticks out in its oddity, though Mettaton does not immediately recognize it for what it is.

But other than those pesky details, it's a familiar routine. Get out of bed, prepare for the day. Consider outfits if he wants one. Make his way over to the mirror and check out his hair. Respond to the writing on the glass with his usual banter.

Here is where he begins to suspect something is wrong. The words he writes don't... match, in a way, to how close he and his mirrorself are now. They feel oddly distant, friendly but not as familiar, and Mettaton tries to ask what is wrong. But he finds he can't change the track of the conversation.]

No... no, this can't...?

[It's as if he is watching a horror movie; the part where the monster reveals itself, stepping out of the mirror with a wicked grin that on his own face shouldn't send such a chill of dread down his spine. He easily falls into his old position, so surprised by this crossing that Mirrorton ensnares him without much fuss, dragging him to the ground and holding him there as gets his rope and gag from the closets, so graciously given to him.

Some details are glazed over as he's shoved unceremoniously under his bed to rot. It's a bit hard to process the memory correctly as it simultaneously ends and begins. When he "wakes" again on his bed, ready to start the day, he tries to change it. Tries to make something else happen. Tries to get his mirror to understand, no, this is awful, please-

But, as he will discover, it won't change. It can't change. All roads lead back to the destruction of Rome. Anyone who happens to overhear Mettaton's attempts to change this memory will find the door curiously unlocked. However, he won't be particularly happy to see you if you come in. Neither will his mirror, incidentally.]

All Around Wonderland

[Eventually he gets the hint. The door is locked, dead bolts and latches securely in place. He's angry and frustrated and hurt and for the first time in awhile he avoids any mirrors he sees. Eventually he has to sit down somewhere, so you can find him in The Library trying to read something to get his mind off things. Or you can find him lounging in one of the Second Floor Tea Rooms, glaring at the ceiling as he makes quite the attractive throw cushion. Or you could run into him in any hallway or portion of Wonderland that's open to the public. He's determined to put as much distance between himself and his memories for as long as he needs to.

This would be a perfect way to avoid things if he didn't want to spill his guts to everyone he sees.]

[saved]

Peter shows up at the Youth Center, looking for Billy or Elena. He knows they both like to keep busy. They'd both be thinking about keeping the Youth Center in tip-top shape for the... youth of Wonderland, and Peter wants to lend a hand, but also he wants to check in on them.

It's how he needs up at Billy's office.

Peter's hair is a mess like it tends to be when he's stressed or frazzled. He slides a hand up against the back of his neck.

"Hey. I know there's a whole truth Event going on, but I- I had to check in on you and see if you were okay anyway. Or as okay as possible given the hell that is this Event."

[directed]

I don't know.

[More than a dozen, less than an eternity. Until Rip had no more energy to try and had screamed until exhaustion claimed him. Until after that fitful time that could neither be called rest nor sleep, not truly, but close enough to allow him to formulate a different plan than repeatedly pushing the same boulder up the mountain, only for it to come crashing down on a trail of destruction and blood.

He shifts where he sits, one leg bent while the other remains straight in front of him. The cup gets momentarily set aside; he leans his arm against his bent knee.]

Enough to take a different course, eventually, than trying to escape with Miranda and Jonas directly. I formed the Legends to try and destroy the man responsible for their murders before he could get to them. Before he could conquer the entire world and install himself as the vicious and cruel dictator of the planet.

I CRY

[mandrakes]

[He recognised the young man from a distance and made an effort to not approach too quietly. The look he gets as he approaches, though, tells him that he could have made his way down the corridor with a marching band behind him and Damon would have been none the wiser.

Regis kneels beside his young friend and wordlessly puts an arm around him. Giving Damon affection when it seems the young vampire needs it has become second nature by now, and he gives his arm a gentle shake with his free hand.]

Come along, son, get on your feet. Can you do that?

[mucked]

[ ...flipping hell.

fortunate for the pair of them, perhaps, is the fact that peggy doesn't quite manage to articulate the thought in her own head that rip's actions -- his motivations -- put her own hypothetical selfishness into sharp contrast. there's some itchy inkling there somewhere in her brain, but it's quashed by sympathy long before it takes shape. instead, her focus pivots to the second name. jonas. that's three, now, that she's heard and filed away in her mental dossier. and all from this same conversation.

the gears might slow in sympathy, yes, but they never stall completely. peggy also shifts where she sits, turning her upper body so that she's angled toward him rather than parallel to. some of the things said out at the firing range -- while rip had been altered, brainwashed, whatever the most appropriate term might be -- spring back to her with a touch more clarity. like reverse-engineering details into those hard, hurtful memories. ]

And your organization, [ the time masters, ] didn't approve.

[ hence the betrayal, hence the stolen ship, hence a whole bloody lot. peggy doesn't know what box she's opening when her 'interrogation' continues. ]

...Why not?

[ what she betrays now is utter disbelief on his behalf. personal stakes aside -- even knowing what she knows from the crumbs rip's let fall about the time masters and their mandate -- nothing sits right in her bones about allowing a despot to rule. blame the so-called greatest generation. ]

[directed]

[She's not wrong in her summation. Rip remembers well the day he stood before them, his last ditch effort to persuade those protectors of history to defeat Savage before he destroyed the very world itself. He'd predicted they would say no, stood ready to enact his own plans when they did--oh, but Rip had no idea just how deep their plotting went.]

Because they wanted Savage to rule the world. They possessed a device that would allow them to see the future--the actual future, as it would unfold, rather than a projection or prediction. And they saw an invasion of an alien force only a few short years after the conquest I wanted to stop.

So they set in motion their own plan. The device allowed them to not just see all of time, but to manipulate it; to guide the actions of those whom they chose to suit their purposes.

I could not save my family because they ensured I would not. [His fingers tighten; he knows Peggy has turned to face him, but Rip's gaze is not on her, nor the door.] They were the ones who sent Vandal Savage to kill them. To make use of my rage and grief to "spur me on," as they told me.

[bravejemma]

Of course not!

I suppose I must know how much I have to apologize for this time, ridiculous as it is.

[It's the strange thing about being from the different points in the timeline. He knows things, has had conversations that she has not, and there's a thousand small intricacies in all that knowledge that she can't possibly know.]

[adaptiveimmunities]

ninth floor, room 62 b

[The van door opens and a Newsie who would only be recognizable to the original After the End Times staff as Rick Cousins gets ready to leave. George is sitting in a chair at a console looking pale. One of her sleeves is bloody. "Shaun? Train’s leaving. You want to jab and go?”

"And let you finish this without me?" He shakes his head. "No way. Rick, you be careful out there."

Rick’s shoulders tighten and then he's gone, stepping out into the evening air. The door bangs shut behind him.

Shaun sits down on the floor in front of George, an injector in his hands. It's a two-barrel array, ready to deliver a mixed payload of sedatives and her own hyper-activated white blood cells. Together, the mixture could slow conversion… for a while. Not for long, but if they were lucky, for long enough. Expression staying neutral, he says, "Give me your right arm."

She holds it out and Shaun presses the twin needles to her elbow and presses the plunger home.

"Thanks."

"That’s all we’ve got." He opens a biohazard bag and drops the used injector into it before sealing the top. "You’ve got half an hour, tops. After that--"

"There’s no guarantee I’ll be lucid. I know." He rises, walking stiff-legged across to the biohazard bin and drops the bag inside. George swings back to her monitor and her hands hover over the keyboard for several moments until Shaun returns and presses the barrel of a gun to the base of her skull. "Shaun…"

"I’m here."

"I love you."

"I know, George. I love you, too. You and me. Always."

"I’m scared."

He bends forward and presses a kiss to her hair.

"Shaun…"

"Shhh, Georgia. It’s okay. Just write."

She does. And when she starts to turn, he keeps the promise they've always made to each other--he shoots her before she can amplify and hurt anyone. Then he moves as far away from her as he can and sits down on the van floor, letting the gun dangle from his hand between his knees.

He watches the blood dry. Even knowing that this has all happened before makes it hard for Shaun to pull away. Even knowing he can't save her.]

elsewhere

[After he's pulled out of his memories, Shaun has no interest in going back. He locks the door, walks away, and opts to spend the rest of his time in places where he can punch things, shoot things, or be with George. He's not great at being angry quietly, and that gets to be too much for her sometimes.

That's fine. The shooting range is a great place for him when he's pissed.]

[OOC: Shaun will be primarily places he can be active--the shooting range, the training arena, outside. Or he will be anywhere you might find George.]

[shslliar]

[Oh, good! The guy's still alive! Kokichi waves in greeting.]