EVENT LOG: Bright Lights

[tramitem]

✦ MOD LOG ✦

... 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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Comments

Lisa Imai | BanG Dream! | open

[traceofeffort]

[A | closed: NPC | February 11th | a bar in the Bronx]
"It's hard to believe, but you're gonna miss this..." Lisa sang, strumming lightly as she went into a chorus she knew by heart as she half-sits on a stool in front of a microphone. She loved this song, and it was always good to play, both for herself and for crowds. She'd been playing this place for a few months now, maybe once a week, and she'd found herself a decent following again. Everything will be fine. Definitely... ah, gotta pay attention, can't phone the last note in. Even if she would much prefer to be at home getting some quality time with that damned paper. I'm gonna be up all night working on it... oh well. Gotta pay the bills, right?

"You're gonna mi-"

Something goes off, and suddenly she's a year or two younger, with something that is definitely not a guitar in her hands. Someone is... singing? It's powerful, but she can't understand the words, or recognize the silver-haired girl "her" age belting them out. Next to her, long blue hair and a tear guitar blasting out a rock line; behind her, a younger girl with purple twin tails banging on the drums. Lisa's own hair sweeps over her hands as she plays... is this a bass? She can barely focus on it through the feeling of euphoria running through her. Older-her hasn't ever played with a real band before, not one that matters anyway. There's a feeling of. Gestalt, maybe? She can't think of a better word for it. But something is sweeping her along, and even if she doesn't know who these girls are, doesn't know the song, can't play this instrument, she wants to be here, wants to play together with them, wants to-

-the moment ends. Lisa is so abruptly dumped back into herself that she loses her balance on the stool, expecting to still be standing, and falls to the stage, twisting so she lands on her butt and not on her guitar, or on her phone. "Ow... dammit, that hurt. So-" Before she can get out even a question under her breath, he's there, and she just sits and listens. Once Martin's done, Lisa blinks, before letting herself slip into a sardonic tone. "I'm not sure I got myself into trouble yet. Is your Bureau gonna come calling when everything goes to hell despite our best intentions?" There's a tiny note of challenge in her tone, just a little bit of steel; she doesn't appreciate the accusation. Absently, she pushes to her feet, swinging her guitar to her back.

[B | open | February 11th, immediately after A]
Once she dusts herself off and isn't quite so numb over what just happened, Lisa calmly steps off the stage, apologizes to the bartender and says she's gonna quit a bit early tonight, and asks for a glass of the strongest thing he can serve a minor. Armed with a Shirley Temple and a wry look at her before she walked off, she's sitting in a booth staring into the drink like it'll have answers, hands shaking. She'll be okay, just... not yet. Not for a while.

[C | open | rec center | TDM carry okay; new threads welcome]
Lisa's visibly a little nervous as she sits in a chair and glances around, trying and mostly succeeding to keep herself from hiding behind her mane of hair. A cup of lemonade is in her hands, shaking a little, but she's keeping her composure well enough after what's proved to be a somewhat trying meeting; her fingers on the cup, semi-consciously, move in imitation of (unfamiliar) bass lines before she catches herself and forces them to still and her heart to slow. It's some time, maybe a few minutes, before she shakes her head, works herself up to an almost-convincing smile, and musters the courage to do what she usually does when she's feeling lost: focus on other people until her thoughts settle. Lisa stands, and approaches anyone that doesn't seem too occupied with other people.

"Hey, you all right?" she gets out softly. "New stuff in your head not too overwhelming?"

Nailed it.

[D | open | network, text (voice/video OK) | February 17th, afternoon]
Help, I got kicked out of the library after I blew out two computers and a florescent light and I have a paper due in four hours I need to print. Also, less urgent, but even if the Northern lights are beautiful, I think we broke the climate if it's shining over us.

[tramitis]

[ Mr. Martin doesn't seem ruffled by her words, or her tone, whatsoever. There's a slight arching of one eyebrow, though, as he appears to be evaluating how much of a fuss she might be intending to kick up. ]

That does depend on what is causing the trouble.

[ He looks around briefly, then nods to the audience members, who are all being memory wiped as they speak. ]

Imagine if all of them could remember what you remember, or similar. It would cause a riot.

[traceofeffort]

And you're trusting us not to cause a riot? Trusting me, that you've only known for two minutes? [She looks like she ate a lemon, now. A breath, then:] I don't plan to cause trouble. But I've seen enough sci-fi on TV to understand that trouble might find me, now, and I don't wanna just run away when it comes calling.

[tramitis]

[ The sharp-eyed look he gives her next might be considered an intense stare by some. ]

I do believe you're blowing some of this out of proportion. This is not the stuff of science fiction. Indeed, that should be clear by the fact that it has actually occurred.

[ His gaze becomes a bit softer then. ]

I understand that it will be difficult to accept for a while. But you should not need to cause a riot over it, since you are merely one individual who is experiencing this. Remember, also, that you have the network to discuss your feelings over this matter.

[traceofeffort]

Urk. [She hadn't meant for the sound to come out, but she can't help herself.] Probably, but I don't know what the proportions are. When y'all come and show up in the middle of the night over a vision and do... whatever it is you're doing to these folks, I feel like you don't get to say I'm blowing things out of proportion. [She groans, shaking her head.]

Dammit, I'm so far out of my depth here it isn't even funny. But... yeah. Not alone, shouldn't need to riot, going to go out of my mind before things get better, and it's. It's fine, it'll be okay... [Lisa stops herself from what's looking like a breakdown in the making, taking a long, deep breath, before looking back up to Martin with a slightly less guarded expression, if a little more wild.] Sorry. I'm- I'm fine. I'm just kinda... yeah. I think I said a little too much.

C

[darkforcerising]

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?"

[traceofeffort]

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."

[darkforcerising]

"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."

[traceofeffort]

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?"

[darkforcerising]

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?"

[traceofeffort]

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?"

[darkforcerising]

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."

[traceofeffort]

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?

[darkforcerising]

"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."

[traceofeffort]

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?"

D.

[howkickassiam]

[ York remembers this girl from the support group, so he casually answers her message about an hour after it crosses the network. ]

Honestly. I think I'm lucky my phone still works.

[traceofeffort]

Oh. Oh no, I didn't even think of that. Oh, I hope nothing happens to mine! I need it.

[There's nothing for a long moment. Then:]

It restarted on me! Ugh, dammit, I don't have time for this!

[howkickassiam]

Shit. I noticed mine had been setting its screen to the brightest setting over and over, but I didn't think that was part of this whole thing, for some reason.

[traceofeffort]

I have no idea what is or isn't part of this. It's really frustrating and I don't need more stuff going wrong along with everything else. Has anything important broken on your end, or just phones and lights being weird?

[howkickassiam]

Nope, nothing broken.

You think the northern lights last night were connected to this?

[traceofeffort]

You know, it wouldn't shock me. I don't know HOW they would be, but it would make a lot of sense. Strange things don't happen in isolation, right?

[howkickassiam]

They happen in 3s is what my mom always said

[traceofeffort]

Lights going crazy, northern lights over the city. So what goes together with those? Sudden lunar eclipse?

[howkickassiam]

I was kind of referring to the memories starting in the first place, actually. This all happened around the same time, at least for me.

[traceofeffort]

Oh! Oh, yeah, that would make a lot of sense, I somehow forgot that timing worked too. Great, something else to add to the pile of strangeness that's our lives now. Maybe that means someone remembered the Northern lights or something? I guess?