tramitem_log | EVENT LOG: Bright Lights

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EVENT LOG: Bright Lights

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... And when my good dream came to an end, I woke up more than ready to bend ... Full Game Navigation

Before February 12: I. Event Aftermath This text is taken from the Welcome page. Thread headers utilizing this prompt may be responded to by Mr. Martin. Simply add “closed to NPC” to your thread header to receive a response. It hits you from out of nowhere. One second you are going about your day, and then for ten or thirty seconds, everything—your surroundings, your sense of self—changes. You see a moment from another life. When you come back to your senses, there is an elderly man waiting for you, and a team of workers administering to the people in your immediate vicinity. They seem to be doing something intrusive to those other people, but they are leaving you alone. How did they get there so fast? Mr. Martin introduces himself—he is the Head of the Department of Containment at the Bureau of Interdimensional Activities. His accent is hard to place. But he begins to explain the multiverse, and now your world has turned upside down. “In summary, what you’ve just experienced is the memory of a past life. You will receive more, but I cannot tell you how many, when, or what they will be... You are one of The Different now... The Bureau will be keeping an eye on you,” Mr. Martin says, and he hands you a card with the acronym ‘IBA’ on one side, and a street address and a forum website address on the other. “There are others like you, experiencing memories from a past life,” he continues. “The Bureau has set up a network so you can connect, find support… work out your confusion.” There’s something sinister about the way he says that… maybe? It’s hard to make sense of everything happening so quickly. “And one more thing—do try to stay out of trouble.”
February 12: II. Support Group There’s a generic spread of food on a table off to one side of the room: donuts and muffins, coffee and lemonade. Maybe you’re hungry enough to try it—it’s free after all. Or maybe you can’t stomach anything, given the event you’re attending. The space is a local rec center, reserved for the evening. The beige-painted cinder block walls and the fluorescent lighting are a terrible combination. The meeting was interesting—who knew there were so many people like you, receiving memories of a past life? The group was led by someone from The Bureau—the Department of Medical Services. Some people are staying in their chairs and chatting—they must know each other from previous meetings. Some of them are gravitating towards the food. How do you feel about tonight? Has it helped you come to terms with the dream of memories you’re having? Maybe it’s time to talk to others, get an understanding of their experience.
February 16-20: III. Bright Lights The first clue that something has gone wrong is the brightness of the lights around New York City. Every lamp post you see, every fluorescent tube light in the office, even the LEDs in the microwave display, glow brighter—but not consistently. The lights pulsate and flicker, buzzing furiously, and sometimes they even burn out. It’s not just that, though—even small appliances start malfunctioning, because the use of them trips the breakers. Refrigerators have to be turned down so they don't freeze the milk. When questioned, the city administration, headed by the office of the mayor, directs questions to the Bureau. That’s probably your first clue that something is really, really not right. After all, the Bureau is meant to be an unknown, isn’t it? The Bureau being put in charge of answering questions about this phenomenon almost seems to be an accusation from the mayor—and the fact that the Bureau’s PR arm does respond seems like an admission of guilt. Something else happens that night, though. The Northern Lights, in pulsating waves of green and red and purple, descend over the night sky of New York City. The people of New York pour into the streets to witness the phenomenon, raising their phones to take pictures. Normally, this would never be possible, because of how far south New York is, and how much light pollution the city experiences at night. How is this happening? And why does it subsequently happen for the next 4 nights? The rumors begin the morning of the 17th. They grow in intensity over the next few days, and the appearance of the Bureau’s spokesperson on the Network does little to assuage any fears that are being experienced by the population in the city that includes the Different. People who remember their Event are disappearing, one by one by one. Sometimes they reappear after a short time. Sometimes, it seems, they’re just gone. What does this all mean?
... What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause ...
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Anakin was bringing a donut up to his mouth when Lisa sidled up to him and asked her question. He finished the bite and chewed, and while he chewed, he shifted his backpack on his shoulder with his prosthetic hand.

"Sure, the new memory has lots of company with," he wiggled his robotic fingers - a marvel of modern medicine, the best Earth could offer.

"What about you?"

Stuck in her own head as she'd been, Lisa hadn't quite noticed his hand until he'd drawn attention to it. But when she did realize what she was looking at, her mouth opened in surprise. "If it's company to that, it must have been something. That's pretty impressive!"

When the topic turns back to her, Lisa manages a nervous, quiet laugh. "Nothing too special. Just got a vision of myself having a good time with people I've never met and now I'm kind of missing it."

"Huh, all I did in my memory was meet someone. That's... it. Well, I was a small kid again." Anakin tried to think about his memory more. See if any details stuck out.

"Ya... that's it."

Lisa smiles a little sadly. "At least you have a name! I have no idea who these girls are. Aside from a couple serious cases of anime hair, I don't even know how I'd ever find them. So that's something, right?"

A pause. "Sorry, I have to ask. Small kid with two arms again? Or-?" She gives Anakin's hand a significant glance. "Maybe it's important, right?"

Anakin follows her gaze and then back up to her face, his expression flat to indicate that was edging a line.

"I had two arms."

And because he didn't like how the conversation had turned, he changed the topic. There was a thin line separating what was appropriate to ask an amputee and it all depended on when and how close a relationship you had with them. Which were things no everyone intuitively knew, so Anakin usually gave people a pass the first time before getting rude.

"So what do you think about the Bureau? This meeting?"

She blinks slowly. Then pauses. Then her mouth opens and she shakes her head hard. "Oh, shit, I wasn't thinking-" Then it snaps shut again, teeth clicking audibly as she seems to sink into her chair, before taking the out. "I-I think they're crazy. But we're gonna have to see how it goes, yeah? If they're not gonna give us answers, we're gonna have to find 'em ourselves. Which..."

Lisa looks around the room again, before looking down at her hands before clenching them into fists, fire coming back into her, if slowly. "That's what this is for, right? Meeting each other, trading information, that kinda stuff?"

If Lisa was willing to move on from his arm, then he was, too.

"If this thing is run by the Bureau, is it really for our benefit?" Anakin pointed out. "Whatever we talk about- they probably want to know."

Lisa pales, just a little bit. But it's enough. "Ugh. I didn't think of that either. But if we don't, they'll get suspicious... but they probably are anyway... gah! I'm not made for this kinda stuff!" Her free hand combs through her hair in frustration. "Means the network's probably bugged too, huh? Is it- safe?" Is anything safe? Should she be drinking the lemonade?

"They knew where we were when our memories happened," Anakin said evenly. It was easy to talk about now, though he was sure he was going to freak out a bit when he was on his own. "I think it's a safe bet that they know more about us even if we don't tell them anything."

Her expression is far away for a moment; when she'd flopped over, he had already been there, hadn't he? Already there, talking like he hadn't needed any explanation...

"...I don't want to tell them anything," she eventually says, refocusing. "Fuck everything about this. Gotta say, I'm feeling a lot less warm and fuzzy about what I saw, now." Now Lisa visibly shrinks into herself, arms wrapping around herself loosely. The fire in her eyes is... smoldering, smoking, but not quite out. "Do- do you think they know more about. Whatever we're seeing? Our other selves or whatever this is?"

"I think that depends. If they are really past lives, maybe not?" Anakin had some theories. Almost all of them didn't paint a comforting picture.

"How do we know they are actual memories of past lives? What if they put them in our heads?"

He didn't know of any technology that could do that, but he didn't know every secret science experiment out there.

If she lets herself think about someone monkeying around in her head and putting memories of another her in there, Lisa is going to scream. She'll settle for shaking her head hard again and her grip on her arms going a little tighter. "I... then we need t' find out. We need t' get as much information as we can." Lisa's twang is coming out and at present she has no emotional strength to rein it in.

"If they are our past lives, or whatever-" Her tone is measured, slow. "Then we owe it to them to figure things out, right? I won't pretend I know what the hell's going on, but that feels right."

“Owe it to the Bureau to find out?” Anakin asked, for clarification. Anakin wasn't sure he was feeling that benevolent.

"No," Lisa says, a little more strongly. "To our past selves. If these really are our memories, shouldn't we try to find out about ourselves?" 'To hell with helping the Bureau,' she wants to add but knows better than to voice at a Bureau-organized event, never mind that she did it in this conversation already.

"We've lived as long as we have without remembering," Anakin pointed out. "Does the universe need us to remember?"

"Does it? If it did, maybe it couldn't... I dunno, ask before now?" You'd never know one way or the other, but... "There might only be one way to find out. And it might be playing into the Bureau's hands. But I have to know."

"Might be risky," Anakin said. "But maybe it's necessary. I'm gonna keep coming to see if I can find out what's going on."

"I..." On one hand, she'd be just as happy never to come to one of these again. On the other, she could miss something important, or maybe someone important. Could she afford that...? "I think I will, too," Lisa finally breathes. "Yeah! I'll keep coming back. I- I have to. I can't afford to miss anything."

She smiles at him for the first time in a bit. "Sorry, I'm sure you didn't want to deal with my being a mess. Thank you, seriously."

"I think everyone here is a mess, getting supposed memories back from another life. Who handles that gracefully?" he pointed out.

"As much as I don't trust the Bureau, this is kind of what a support group is for." Collectively helping people deal with shit.

"More gracefully than me, but... thanks. I'm gonna try and take that to heart. And hey, maybe I can help other people through, yeah? If we're gonna be going through this, then we've all gotta support each other," Lisa says, cheer returning to her. "Which. Yeah, that's the point, I guess, but."

"I have mood controlling meds," Anakin said, off hand. "I'm playing with an unfair advantage."

He extended his hand to her, yes, his robotic hand, because people shook right hands. "I'm Anakin."

"Well, that's just cheating, isn't it?" Lisa shoots back with zero heat, sticking her tongue out at him after a second. "Or maybe not, all things considered."

She doesn't hesitate at all when he offers his hand, grinning and reaching to shake it. "I'm Lisa! Pleased to meet you, Anakin."

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EVENT LOG: Bright Lights

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