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

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

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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She's shaking her head against her knees. Frisk... What they're saying... Even though it's all a bit too much to understand right now... Even if there's so much they don't know about each other. Having Frisk see the most vulnerable moment of her life like that... Maybe what they're saying makes sense.]

Wonderland wo-won't stop... reminding me...

[She shakes her head again, as sobs cut her off. She digs her fingers into her scalp.]

I can't-...

[She looks up at last, gulping for air, frantic. She struggles to breathe properly. Her arms come down to wrap around her stomach, aching from exertion of her body.

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head again.]

It's always going to pick your worst days.

[It wants you off guard. It wants to hurt you. Hit you where you're always going to ache.]

It never goes away. Or...maybe it does. I don't know. I'll tell you if it ever really does, I guess.

[It's not really an attempt at levity. The words are as even and gentle, rounded off at the corners, as everything else they've said. It's earnest. It's as painfully earnest as everything else they've had to say today.]

[That's just how it is.]

[A small hand rests on her shoulder, and squeezes.]

It isn't real. Not here.

[Frisk's words come at her through a thick haze, her mind moving sluggishly... or rather, her mind being everywhere at once: in the room with her memory, in Arcadia Bay, in Wonderland when Chloe was here, in Wonderland when she wasn't. Thoughts swirl chaotically, but revolve always around the central theme of just... plainly missing the girl she loves. Loneliness and regret spiraling around one another...

But a few words make it through. She fights a sob long enough to hear them talk about it never going away, but maybe it does, and he'd tell her. That would be... nice.

She lets the breath out in a long, shaky exhalation that makes her shoulders tremble. And their hand is there, squeezing gently. Her own hand comes up to grip Frisk's. Then she's drawing in a long breath, trying to breathe properly, but it's so difficult, and her stomach hurts...

Shh, shh... her own mind seems to tell her.

Another long exhale escapes her. While it edges on being a sob and she still shakes with it, it's quieter. She lets her head down again to rest against her knees.]

N-not real...

[Her grip is fainter this time, not as painful as before. It's okay, either way. They don't mind it, really. And - they can't lie to themself here or now, so it means it's true, isn't it? They don't necessarily mind destroying themself against this or anything else, as long as it's for someone else's sake.]

[Maybe that's a little wrong to be thinking. But they're not saying it aloud, so that's okay.]

It's not real. [Their tone is gentle and firm.] It's Wonderland.

Remember?

[And for once, Max nods her head, forehead rubbing on knees.]

Ye- Yes...

[She's always known that, in the back of her head somewhere. This is another event. Wonderland messing with her emotions. What else is new?

But knowing that falls apart in the face of watching Chloe die... Max knows, even if she saved her, nothing would change. Not in Wonderland. Except that she'd feel better.

Maybe it was worth a shot. Maybe not.

She's still crying, but quietly now. Her head aches from the rewinds, her lungs and abdomen from the crying... But for now she's moving closer to a peaceful quiet.]

...Sorry, F-Frisk.

[There are two kinds of crying, they know. There's the loud kind, the grieving kind - the one that has you clamping your arms around your middle and hugging yourself tight enough for it to hurt, the kind that knots up in your chest and makes it impossible to lie still because it arches your back and has you howling to make it all stop and drain away. The kind that leaves you shivering, panting, stammering, soaked in your tears and your snot.]

[There's the quiet kind. The kind that hitches your throat and chokes your words and you can just stomach it, lower your head and drop your shoulders and sit somewhere no one will see. And it'll be okay.]

[Max gradually begins to drift from the former to the latter. And that means it's...it's not getting better, really, but it's getting to be something she can bear. And that's something.]

[That's something.]

I don't blame you.

[She lets go of Frisk's hand. That leaves her arm free to wipe her eyes- pretty soon she takes off her jacket and just uses the whole thing as a handkerchief. No point worrying about being embarrassed. They're well past that.

And there isn't much left in her, emotionally, to even feel embarrassed. The remaining strength in her tired mind is too caught up in sadness, trailing in the wake of everything that's happened.

Her sobs continue to subside until they're just muffled breaths, her eyes puffy and her nose raw. And the jacket's covered in bloodstains, too.

She ends up staring at the discarded pack of cigarettes. The silence goes on a little as she tries to stretch it out, tries to regain her calm. It works, a little, but the anger and grief are still there, simmering. When she speaks her voice is soft, timid.]

...I hate this place so much, Frisk. [She looks at them, like coming out of a daze.] I wouldn't mind going home and just forgetting. Blank slate. Drawing board.

Sometimes I hate it too.

[Their expression finally shifts into something surprised - surprised that it’s true at all. Surprised at the ease with which they can say it. Do they really hate it? Isn’t hate wrong? Isn’t it cruel to hate something you don’t understand- that allows you to see and do new things and meet people and change in ways you could never expect?]

[Maybe It is.]

...please don’t. Please don’t forget.

[She sniffs and wipes at her face again. There's usually a moment after you cry where you feel like it's cathartic, and a huge weight has come off your chest. But Max finds the feeling isn't there. Like the weight came off, but there was nothing left under it; a disconcerting quiet.

Max, unlike Frisk, finds that them hating Wonderland to some degree isn't surprising at all. But what they follow up with is. Her eyes widen and she leans away from them, staring.]

What...? Why?

Because then everyone would lose you.

[Is it fair to say that? It's probably...guilt, or something, isn't it? It probably is. Why are they so bad at this.]

I mean, you're...I don't know a lot of people like me. People who can do things like - like make time act the way it does. And I wish you'd talk to me about it, because I don't...I don't really get to, ever. I don't know if you do, either. Like you don't allow yourself to.

[...they've said too much.]

[This event, it - it has them saying too much.]

[Her surprise grows more and more as they speak. From "everyone would lose you" down to "I wish you'd talk to me about it", every word catches her off guard.

Her mouth hangs open for a few moments as she struggles to find a response. There's a few things- niceties- than she finds she literally can't say.

She takes in a quick breath and sniffs, glancing away to regain some composure. When her eyes settle back on them, it's like she's confused they're there.]

... I didn't know you felt that way. Is that... why you came to my room?

[She'd been wondering.]

Edited 2017-11-03 02:56 (UTC)

I'm afraid to, I guess. I'm scared that I'll make you afraid, too.

[Run away, like how she sort of did the first time. But they kind of sprung it on her, didn't they? They...weren't very fair to her, ha ha. They're not really fair to a lot of people. Here. Now. Ever.]

[Is that why they came here?]

...I don't know.

Part of it, I think. I don't like hearing someone else hurt. And, I - know how it feels.

To not be able to SAVE somebody.

[She wants to say they don't scare her, but the words hitch in her throat and come out wrong.] ...I'm already scared out of my mind, Frisk.

[She shakes her head. Something else about this event is messed up. Max wipes at her face with the jacket, cleaning away what's left of her crying.

The details of Frisk and Chara's lives were never clear to her. Her curiosity about how their time travel worked had eventually faded into acceptance that it was better not knowing. That's why she never talked to them about it. Now she sees that was selfish.

It still scares her, though.]

You'd think time travel would... help with that sort of thing.

It doesn't.

[She's...she should be.]

[She should be afraid, really. They're not a nice person. They're not a good person. They're really, really bad with promises and with secrets and with stories and with all sorts of things. They're not really the greatest kind of friend.]

[But they're also...too selfish to stop trying.]

It doesn't really get easier. And it feels like it's just...something wrong with you when it doesn't.

Right?

With me. [She mimics them, her tone hollow and tired.] With you...

[She looks at them from where she's sitting.]

There probably is something wrong with us. [The admission is heavy, but at least it's laced with empathy.] You don't... rearrange reality without some kind of... backlash. Nevermind everything else we go through...

[She's sleepy. Exhausted from what happened in her room, and the crying afterward. The words slip out, past her weary self-control, goaded on by the event.]

Does that... does it bother you?

Consequences.

[Backlash. Problems down the road. Different words for the same thing, they know. There isn't any hope in adjusting people like variables and hoping that will suffice. It's cruel, and it's playing god, and it's always going to go wrong.]

[Maybe they're just cruel.]

I guess. I don't know. I think I've ruined more things just by being me. It's just that I can't go back to fix it like usual.

[She nods, almost absentmindedly. Tiredly.] I think I know exactly what you mean.

[When everything you do- every attempt to fix things- ends up worse and worse, until finally you're looking at a heap of crap and wondering why the hell you did what you did. Like the more of you added to the situation, the worse it gets.

But you can't just ignore it, right? You have to try and try and try. And you keep telling yourself that.

But she can't imagine that happening to Frisk. They seem... too good. Too nice. Max shuts her eyes as though in pain, as she slowly forces out what she wants to say. To help them. Nevermind how the admission makes her feel right now.]

This time... What you did for me just now. It... It helped. And that... was all you. You weren't pretending... right?

I don’t think I can pretend right now. I just...don’t like the idea of people hurting the same way I have.

[ Selfish, they know. There’s no avoiding that now anymore. The fierceness of wanting to keep someone else safe for their own sake is...it’s always going to fail. That’s just how it works. ]

[What else can they do?]

I don’t know how to stop it. I know I can’t, I just - wish I could.

[She frowns at them. Not for the first time she seems confused, but now in a calmer way than before.]

Stop what...? Feeling sorry for people? [She almost repeats that they helped her just now... and maybe she should actually say thank you, to drive the point home. But it's all too painful to consider. Too awkward and... personal.]

People from hurting.

[It's not possible, they know. They can't solve everyone's problems flawlessly here.]

Back home, that's...what I'd do. When I finally figured it out. I solved everyone's problems. I made them all happier. I fixed everything, and everyone even got to see the Surface. And when I can't do that here, it feels like...like I'm just not trying hard enough.

[Max stares for a moment, unsure of how to respond, if she even fully understands what they're saying. It's been a long day so far, and more and more she just wants to settle somewhere else and sleep it off, or smoke. But what Frisk is saying actually bothers her immensely, especially coming from a child.

Her voice is soft and tired as she addresses them, trying to be soothing. Trying to climb out of the sadness she feels and help them.]

It's not your responsibility, Frisk. Even this- [She leans her head toward the door of her room, slowly.] You didn't have to do that for me...

I don't know what I am without it.

[That's - ]

[That sounds like them, ha ha. Not helping people because they want to, but because they simply don't know what they are if they're not. If they're not helping, if they're not trying, then what does that make them? Just another person who messes up, time and time again. Just another person who ends up hurting people.]

[Another fallen human with a ruthless SOUL.]

I don't know what I am if I'm not trying.

...

[Immediately, they're angling their head away from her, dropping their gaze.]

You shouldn't have to worry about that. Please don't think about this anymore.

...

[Max stares at them, confused. While she knows that Frisk, Chara, Sans, and some of the other Underground monsters have had difficult lives, the extent of how that's affected them is a little out of her reach.

Or is it? The more she listens to Frisk, the more she comes to understand that their struggle is similar.

She looks away again as she brushes at her eyes and sniffs, still recovering from her bout of crying.]

I think... more than me, you're the one trapped in a room, rewinding over and over...

[She closes her eyes and leans her head against the wall. The sound of Nathan's gun is still ringing in her ears. She wonders what that would feel like if she was Frisk's age- if she'd been stuck with her power for however long Frisk has. Like shit, no doubt.]

Take some of your own advice, okay? Just stop and... walk outside. Have a bad cry about it.

[The joke falls flat. Max stands up, bunching up her tear- and blood-stained jacket. She makes sure to pick up the pack of cigarettes too, and somehow feels ashamed for it in front of Frisk.]

Maybe learn to leave it behind...

[And Max feels like an absolute hypocrite saying that. Worse, she doesn't think she can be what Frisk was for her in that bathroom. Some stranger come to tell her everything would be alright, that she should let go, and to hold her hand as she walked out the door.

Someday, maybe, she can help Frisk the way they helped her. But not today.

Sorry, she thinks, and means it.]

[Just stop. Learn to leave it behind.]

[Is that even possible for them? That's not what they are. They don't let things go. They don't release things and back away and hope that they turn out for the best. They're not like Sans, who can get by contentedly watching the events of the world spiral lazily past and spectating idly on the tenor of each one. They're not someone who can just...sit and wait when the chance to do something, anything at all, is available to them.]

[Just stop.]

I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to...

[Deep breath. And say what's always nagged at them.]

If I have some kind of special power, isn't it my responsibility to do the right thing?

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

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