Yeah. The other day, I wanted to see how far of a drop it was, so I let go of my zipline and fell pretty far! I had to tornado myself back to catch another zipline...
[ wow a pig goes running by!!! wow a memory happens!!!
You're stunned into silence, dropping both your umbrella and flashlight where you stand. Another voice can be heard behind you, gasping loudly before they yell out of fear and stumble back; in the next moment they're running away back where you both came, but it barely registers to you as your own shock completely paralyzes you. Rain pours, but you don't feel cold anymore.
But you do feel as if your insides are twisting around so hard you could hurl them out at any moment.
Eventually, you're able to step forth upon the cracked wooden platform of the old, broken merry-go-round, deteriorating from years of abandonment; the entire amusement park around you is like this, emptied and decaying and surrounded by a city skyline with nary a single light on within its buildings. The only source of light for miles around is the flashlight you've dropped in a puddle, but it's enough to illuminate the carousel horse you somehow force yourself to approach in a daze.
A womanâin her thirties, dressed in a black business dress, tights, and heelsâis mounted upon the horse, both hands tied behind her back, and a rope wrapped around her waist to keep her in place. Her body slumps, completely and utterly lifeless, and it's clear why when there are numerous bloodied punctures along her torso.
I...
With trembling hands, you climb up with the bar underneath the horse, leaning over the body.
I have to get it out. I have toâ
One hand brushes aside the woman's bangs while the other grips around a bloodied icepick lodged into the left eye socket. There's no eye within, but that doesn't seem to register to you; your shaky hand only pulls, and pulls, until you're able to yank it out with a sudden jerk.
You feel so hollow inside you're not able to think of what to do next. You don't even notice the blood on your hands.
[ No, she supposes not. Ylfa's seen enough bad, from what she's told—inarguably moments worse than Mizuki's own experiences. (It's not a competition, but still.) Yet it's still sudden enough that she feels guilty for it.
[she's not necessarily meaning that her memories are so bad, so much as it makes her feel badly when people react like something they saw was gross or upsetting. she doesn't want to do the same.]
...Oh. I'm really sorry, Mizuki. What happened to her?
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adorabrawler) wrote2023-06-10 02:57 pm
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You don't like hopping around on the clouds and ziplining?
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Iiii think that definitely makes you braver than me.
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Well, I just knew I could catch myself.
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[it would have helped in trial, it turns out. it's fine.]
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Soooo that means I'll leave the jumping off clouds to you!
[ meanwhile: muffled oinking in the distance. ]
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... Oh. ]
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...she's stunned at this memory, too. she's no stranger to blood and death, but it's hard to see someone in this state, and to feel mizuki's fear.]
...Mizuki? What was that?
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[ It's like getting suddenly, unexpectedly gutpunched, really. ]
Why did it... show that...
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[but she does want to know what happened. it's hard to know what to do in these situations.]
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[she's just going to put a paw on her shoulder.]
Nothing about your memories are gross or bad to me. I just saw something scary and awful that happened to you.
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[ No, she supposes not. Ylfa's seen enough bad, from what she's told—inarguably moments worse than Mizuki's own experiences. (It's not a competition, but still.) Yet it's still sudden enough that she feels guilty for it.
Mizuki slips out a shaky exhale. ]
It was—my mom.
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...Oh. I'm really sorry, Mizuki. What happened to her?
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