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

[mucked]

[ -- she looks a little queasy and downtrodden when she nods. nodding is all she does, considering the whole half a scone shoved behind her teeth. ]

[hypoxic]

Right -- of course, you wouldn't want to -- I can understand why you wouldn't want to...

But I suppose that even a national icon is capable of fancying other men. That sort of freedom is particularly American, I think.

[That's what this is about, right?]

[mucked]

That's not -- it's not about that.

[ it was never about that. time and tide makes the subject rather taboo, yes, but she was born and raised in hampstead -- the beating heart of the liberal-leaning british intelligentsia. beyond that, a considerable portion of her fellow field agents at the s.o.e. had fallen outside those traditional lines. many (including herself) had been purposeful recruited precisely because they came in from the margins.

so no -- her queasiness isn't sourced in the possibility that captain america might have fancied other men, although calling him a national icon does turn her stomach. after she a hard swallow of her scone, she explains -- shamed: ]

It's more that -- more that Steve should fancy anyone else. A selfish complaint, I know, but I wouldn't be making it aloud just now if I could help it.

[hypoxic]

But why would...

[Give him a minute. He's trying. What's selfish about that? It's not as if... Unless it is as if...!]

You love him.

[mucked]

...Dearly.

[ completely, utterly, wholly. heart and soul and line and sinker. did so from the day she saw him take a dive on that damned dummy grenade -- well before they'd pumped him full of serum and vita-rays.

it's almost a relief to see it show up as unknown intel in fitz's eyes. as though (until now) some of her secrets had remained her own. her frown breaks briefly into a small smile that doesn't reach beyond her mouth -- it's not a happy expression. it's stamped with a kind of inevitable surrender to a feeling she more often keeps under lock and key. ]

...And I was so damned happy to see him again. Here. [ her eyes flick upward, towards the ceiling, in that tell-tale gesture of someone avoiding a messy scene. ] What an opportunity, I thought.

[hypoxic]

... And that's when he told you... [He's crossing the space between them, acting on impulse alone.

And then he wraps his arms around Peggy Carter and draws her into a hug. She needs one.

It'll be another beat before he registers that he's hugging Peggy Carter.]

[mucked]

Actually, it took him a couple--

[ oh dear lord he's hugging her. she squares her shoulders and stands (quite flummoxed) until decorum tinkles like a little bell in the back of her head and she circles a grudging arm around fitz. peggy doesn't like hugs. at least...she doesn't like them with near-strangers, however integral they might be to the future of her world. her hand pats an awkward open palm against the back of his shoulder.

she huffs an impatient sigh. ]

--Months. Before he told me. Oh, for heaven's sake, must we? [ she gives him a nudge. stop that. ]

[hypoxic]

[He'll maintain the contact until she nudges him away. Oh... Was that not welcome? Did he read the mood wrong? It seemed like such a natural course of action. Was it not masculine enough of him? Peggy Carter is from a time when men were expected to behave a certain way. Is she finding him undignified for engaging in physical contact?

Maybe Peggy would get on well with his father.]

We. Don't have to. Not if you'd rather avoid it.

I've overstepped a boundary.

[mucked]

I'm not fond.

[ but then that feels a little vague, and so she's quick to add: ] Of hugging.

[ oof, this is miserable. she takes a wide step in retreat and scrubs a palm against the back of her neck. because yes, he's overstepped a boundary but... ]

Few boundaries are left sacrosanct this time around, I'm afraid. [ she frowns. ] Although there's something to be said for the non-verbal nature of a hug -- did you feel compelled to give it the same way you're feeling compelled to speak to the truth?

[ that is, was it offered of his own free will? ]

[hypoxic]

[It's his turn to be uncomfortable. The interrogation is a little unsettling, and requires the sort of self-analysis that Fitz hates to do. He wrings his hands together.]

Not in the same way. It's just -- I thought you needed one. My mum always said we shouldn't be shy with offering comfort to people who need it. I -- you should probably disregard that. It's stupid.

[mucked]

Not at all. [ and her breath hisses inward as peggy realizes precisely what's coming -- a damning condemnation of her own philosophy, because deep down she's always known it's never been enough to stand apart and untouched by the world. ] Your mother sounds wise enough on the subject. Wiser, certainly, than me.

[ it's just that there are lines between colleagues, aren't there? perhaps she wouldn't mind hugging a friend if the situation called for it. or a lover, if she ever had one again. but -- fitz falls under neither of those headers. it would be like hugging one of the lads from the office. or (god forbid) mister jarvis. respect and affection persist, but not the drive to put one's arms around the other.

she scrubs at her arms -- as though banishing her own discomfort. ]

[hypoxic]

[She's less comfortable with it, but he softens at the shift in topic.]

Mum and I are very close. I don't think she's ever said or done anything hurtful in her entire life.

[This topic isn't as bad, he thinks. gushing about his mother is easy.]

[mucked]

[ i can't remember the last time I talked with mine -- that's what peggy wishes she could say. sly and distant, putting space between herself and a family tableau that isn't tragic (far from it) but still isn't idyllic either. she brushes crumbs off her sleeve before she speaks again. ]

Truth be told, [ ha, ] I'm well overdue for giving mine a ring. Back home. [ ... ] Does she know what you do? Who you work for?

[hypoxic]

Oh -- no, that's not an option. Can't go round having mum make a target of herself. She's just happy that I'm out on my own, doing all right.

If you can make time to ring yours, you probably ought. Mums get lonely sometimes.

[mucked]

I don't believe she much wants to hear from me. Not unless it's to tell her I've 'come to my senses' -- that I've at long last decided to return to England and find myself some decent prospects.

[ it would be just like amanda carter to still be in contact with fred wells -- stringing him along, if she could, just waiting for the day her daughter returned and found herself in need of a husband. ]

But we send cards at Christmas and telegrams when the news might be more pressing.

[ god, she doesn't mean to go into such dull domestic detail. but here she is. ]

[hypoxic]

[ He presses his lips together at that. ]

I suppose not everyone can be very close with their mums. Do you get on well with your father, at least?

[mucked]

Well enough. [ ... ] Honestly, there's not much to say about it. It's all been very -- middle of the road.

[ and she'd love to stop just there, only: ] Except for Michael. My brother. He's the one who taught me how to throw punch.

[ best friends, really. ]