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EVENT

Reverted
The city of Recollé...have you looked beyond the city lately? It may be time to do so.

I.

The good news, perhaps, is that everyone is back in their original bodies. The last few weeks may have been trying and embarrassing for several of you, but never fear! You're all in this together.

The nice thing about returning to your original body is that everything else seems to disappear along with the unintentional swapping. Your dreams on the evening of the 16th and the 17th are unoccupied and you're blissfully alone. Hallucinations fade away and the city almost feels brighter and cleaner. The messy paint job from May and June slowly flakes off to reveal a sparkling almost-new landscape below. All buildings, landmarks, flora and fauna are back to their original colors. The sky, however, is still painted a strange wash of colors and symbols.

The other nice thing about returning to your original body is that it's much easier to feel the sudden, sharp pain on your palm at midnight on the 18th, a needling high-pressure pain that lasts for all of 30 seconds. Upon looking at your hand, however, you'll notice something new.

In bright red font there's a new marking that reads: 13 Days:23:59:59.

58. 57. 56...

The timer steadily counts down, each second synced with each beat of your heart. As the days pass by the timer will slowly shift from the red to a dark, ominous purple. The glow of the mark becomes harder to ignore, and there doesn't seem to be a way to remove it. Good luck with that.

II.

The Retrospec app doesn't seem to be much better. The scrambled messages and posting errors seem to have stopped and users are no longer receiving messages and pictures about themselves.

In fact, the app seems to be quiet for a while.

As users continue to use the app they will find that any post, comment or message that they send via the app will be tagged with a different ID. Instead of their name, all messages will be from Alpha##### or Beta#####. The string of numbers will be unique for each user and cannot be changed at any time. Individual mailboxes will be attached to your name, but the Alpha/Beta ID has made its way there, too.

Over the course of the rest of the month, Alphas (those who have had the app for at least a year from August 2017) will find that messages to other Alphas are sent more easily than to Betas (those who have had the app for less than a year from August 2017) and vice versa. Messages to anyone from the opposite "faction" may drop out half-way or appear blank entirely. It might be wise to find a better mode of communication in the meantime.

III.
Even if you're alone in your dreams, you're not alone in the waking world. No one is free from the timer on their palm, though they may come to find that it impacts some users more than others.

Some users will experience a steady pulsating in their hand as the timer counts backwards, each second ticking by. Standing still just long enough will send the pulse out of their hands and through the rest of their body, over their arms and through their feet straight into the ground.

The earth begins to shake under these unlucky users, little quakes and trembles that spread out and seek out anyone else nearby. Whether you know this person or not, whether you're alone or several of you are impacted by this earthquake, the ground beneath you splits open and you're pulled straight down into the crevice, falling aimlessly. Instead of finding your own life flashing before your eyes, you'll find yourself witnessing events, faces, and memories that are important to the user the pulses came from.

On the outside of things, the user will promptly collapse into a coma-like state no matter where they're at. Inside their mind, however, a scene begins to set itself to welcome you as you land. It isn't a memory and it isn't a hallucination. It's a construct of someone else's innerworkings that have trapped you and blocked you in.

As the haze around you dissipates, the puzzle you received earlier this month floats in front of you. Whether you have finished building it or not it is now fully completed and all of the words have faded except for "Gordian Knot."

Your cell phones will not work in these dreamscapes, and even Retrospec seems to be disconnected. It's up to you to venture further into someone else's mind and help them untangle whatever mystery is hidden within themselves.

IV.
So about that timer. As time begins to run out, more and more people begin to experience dream dives and encounter the knots of others that they must fix. Even inside the dreamscape, the timer glows just as brightly as it had out in the real world and it continues counting down.

At least it gives you a sense of time and just how many minutes, hours, or days you've been stuck inside someone's subconscious. You might even realize that the timer is directly tied to just how much time you have to unravel the knots of your friends, loved ones, and strangers.

Easy, right? Take caution, citizens. The monsters and demons lurking in the corners of someone else's psyche can manifest to something quite powerful. You will not wake up and be booted out of someone's dream if you are attacked, but your physical body and mind will shut down and remain unconscious for one week.

Be careful how you approach these knots, however! Should you change any part of them too much, the host will find themselves rejecting this new information. Too great of a change will result in the loss of an important memory to them and no way to recover it inside the dive.

Even with these possible losses divers are responsible for fixing what's gone wrong and relieving the knot wound tightly in the host's mind. Venture forward, explore, and break it apart to awaken then. You will be greatly rewarded for your effort.

Failure to break the knot and save the host from this comatose state will result in all parties suffering a loss. At first it may not be obvious, but over time it will be clear an important memory or item has left your possession.

Is it just limited to dives though? Some users will feel that even with successful diving they don't quite feel like themselves. It seems as though there's some further self-evaluation they must meet in order to fully recover who they are...or were, as it may be.

Tick-tock, Retrospecters. Mind the time.

BONUS.
Ever since he moved in back in February, the lights have always been on in Zee's office and home at the top of the Towers. Office hours are whenever he feels like making them and he's usually reachable by phone, email, or app.

However, beginning on the 18th, messages to his inbox begin to go unanswered. Checking the inbox itself will reveal a change as well.

Delta#02018329 is no longer receiving messages.

On the 19th, the lights go off permanently. Beginning on the 20th, anyone who ventures to his office will find the building empty and locked, no sign of Zee at all. Reaching out to him receives a bounce-back error message.

Any previous correspondences with him will remain, though his name has been replaced with his Delta ID.

It's hard to say what's happened, but after some time, all users will finally receive a message from Delta#68422.

Stop him.

No other messages will be sent or received from this account.

Welcome to

recolle's August event, part 2!

As notated in the plotting post, the dreamdives are now live! Players are in charge of creating their own unique dive experiences for characters to explore and play through. These can be as harmless or as dangerous as you'd like. However, please be sure to let us know here if your character will be failing a dive and what memory/item they will be losing!

For Prompt II, characters IDs will be comprised of the following: The date your character first appeared on Retrospec (so in Zee's case, that was 02/01/18) and the last four digits of your character's IC inbox as found in the HTML (in Zee's case, 8329.) These IDs will be more relevant in September, but for ease of playing/making sure no one ICly overlaps please use these numbers!

Friendly reminder that if your character will be keeping their new AUs, please reply to this comment on the OOC plot post! As per Prompt IV, characters who are failing to recover their original AUs will begin to notice something is off and will not be able to accomplish what is needed to regain their original AUs. What this is is up to you!

As per the plotting post, threading out successful dream dives will earn you a free memory! Qualifying threads must be at least five comments from you and can be from you either hosting a dive or participating in one. Please note that failed dives will not be eligible for freebies.

Any questions you have regarding this event may be directed to the mod comment here. Be sure to review the mods' question thread on the plotting post for important information as well!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Well. That's not ominous one bit.]

[Freya almost wanted to roll her eyes, especially when the facility PA chimes a message about their friend AL 288-1 a mere moment after Freya saw the entry. She took another alert glance over her surrounds before clicking on it.]

[Most of the entry was scattered, plagued with data corruptions caused by unchecked aging software. What was still legible was that the subject was acquired on [REDACTED], hostile to people, killed at least one researcher who got too close, and sedation was recommended if they were to be moved. No loose objects were permitted within a two meter radius. A restraint helmet was recommended if the subject was not sedated. Awaiting instruction from the Director.]

[Helpful.]

[She could dig further on this old thing later. Freya straightens up and eyes the trail of bloodstains once more before cautiously proceeding into the hallway. Never let it be said she didn't have a sense of adventure.]

[More blood. And--life? Freya approaches the door quietly, listening. Are we a survivor, or the interior decorator?]

[There seemed to be a good reason papers were spilling out of the room. It sounded like someone was furiously rustling papers in there, flipping through them, discarding them, opening and shutting filing cabinets.

The voice is muttered and unintelligible in some places, disjointed and barely coherent.

But it's definitely Lucy's voice. Or...something babbling with Lucy's voice.]

...where is it? ...not supposed to be here...will see, not supposed to see, can't see...throw it away...

[Something--no, many somethings--nudged at the back of Freya's mind. Little sprinkles of information, tidbits, and hints from across the last year and a half begged to snap into a larger picture.]

[Freya shuts those possibilities out of her mind, for the moment, like that action could make them far-fetched somehow. It might have been unwise, but she'd traversed Lucy's dreams before--and fought off its monsters. If that was her on the other side, it was a risk worth taking.]

[She pushes the door open.] Lucy?

[The door opened to a disaster zone of a room. Not a bloody one, but one full of endless rows of filing cabinets, most pulled open and their contents either ripped out or dumped on the floor. Some were newspapers yellowed with age, some were printed on clean white paper like a clinical report.

The sound of rustling papers stopped abruptly right as the door opened, and don't start up again. They had been coming from a row off to the left.]

[Maybe it was the throbbing pulse on her palm that made her usually paranoid, or maybe it was. You know. All the blood. But regardless, the sudden stillness brought forward a whole host of learned habits from that other life.]

[Danger. An ambush. Predator, or cornered prey. They were the same, back on that wild world where a chocobo could easily decapitate someone.]

[Freya did not move from her position in the doorway.]

You in here? Wanna tell me what's goin' on?

[Silence, for a long moment. Then, whisper-quiet, papers rustled with footsteps--leading away from Freya.

And Lucy(?) started to mumble again, like she'd been away from people so long she forgot they could hear her talking. Forgot how to behave around them.]

...not here, not here, not here...

[...]

Guess she's not in here. [She turns her head, directing her voice into the hall behind her, as if she were walking away.] Better check somewhere else.

[But Freya didn't move otherwise. She watched the room for movement, or peeking heads.]

[The mumbling and footsteps stopped when Freya spoke, but as soon as she'd gone--or seemed to--another cabinet drawer was opened, screeching on its bearings. Papers fluttered to the ground as whatever-she-was rifled through them, desperately looking for something again.]

[Once the rustling resumed, Freya crept forward, inching her way along silently. This was probably a bad idea, but clearly, she wasn't going to get any answers standing there. Her gut still screamed that something was wrong; Freya wouldn't lower her guard.]

[But wariness didn't stop her from hopping up and propping her forearms on top of the occupied file cabinet, peering down at the other side.]

Need help?

[The thing going through the drawers startled terribly, dropping the sheaf of papers in its hands. It looked like Lucy. And...not like Lucy.

Her face was too sharp, its features exaggerated and yet emaciated, a crude mask of skin stretched over bone. Her red eyes were widened in a human expression of shock, but there was something...wrong about them. They seemed...flat, and like they were looking through Freya instead of at her. Her hair was a tangled, dull mess that fell in her face as much as it trailed down her back. The limbs were far too long and too gaunt, the joints and fingers all sharp angles.

Then Lucy(?) screeched, a sound that wasn't human and wasn't animal, uncurling its spiderlike limbs and their overlong reach to leap at Freya's torso.]

[In all fairness, the shock was mutual; Freya hadn't been expecting the emaciated creature on the other side. She did recognize hostility, though the scream tipped it off even if she'd missed it. Freya swore, kicking off the cabinet backwards. She landed with a combination thud and clang as she sprawled out on the floor, on her back to avoid the ghostly limbs, colliding with the filing cabinet behind her in the process.]

[Freya scrambled to the side, halfway down the aisle, then paused, warily watching. "Subject" made a lot more sense, now. That had seemed... a lot more like a creature than a person, as cruel as that sounded.]

[Predator, or cornered animal, her gut reminded her.]

[The creature scrabbled onto the cabinets, dragging its long nails into the metal to anchor itself. Its limbs didn't offer Lucy(?) a very human posture, crouched like a frightened animal. It shuddered, but didn't scream again.

The babbling returned, faster and louder this time like all the mutters were trying to escape in the same moment.]

Out-out-OUT. Not supposed-can't see-out!

[Lucy(?) pounced at Freya again, jabbering words interspersed with panicked sounds. Towards the door, towards the door, not away from it.]

Lucy! Cut it out!

[Freya staggered back a few steps before planting her feet and raising her forearms in a loose guard, somewhat surprised by Lucy's(?) rush. She probably wouldn't win a two-armed-vs-eight+ wrestling match, especially with all these filing cabinets within bashing reach for the pink haired woman, but it might work. Mandatory time outs have worked for Lucy--her Lucy--in the past.]

[The creature grabbed at Freya's raised wrists and elbows with her physical hands--and froze for just a moment when she heard her name. A name. Was it really hers?

The moment passed, and Lucy(?) shoved against Freya with inhuman strength, still trying to wrestle her towards the door. Its nails were sharp, but it didn't dig them in. It didn't want to hurt Freya--it just wanted her out, away from the terrible secrets in this room.]

[Her strength came as a shock. Freya only had a split second to consider her options when her balance broke; she backpedaled along with dopel-Lucy's shove. No telling what other surprises were waiting.]

[But the gaunt thing had hesitated; that had to mean something.]

Hey, easy!

[No such luck this time; the creature didn't let up, kept pressing Freya backwards. Papers kicked up by the struggle made an even bigger mess of the floor, and some of the empty filing cabinets had fallen over. The creature slipped on some of the papers, hands dragging on Freya's arms as it tried to regain its balance.]

[Freya didn't even wince when the nail-claws scratched across her skin, instead trying to reverse the grapple and grab doppel-Lucy's arms. Above, the PA repeated it's thoughtful warning.]

[The creature recovered its footing in time to screech again at the touch, pulling backwards and thrashing to get away. Its movements were erratic and too fast, like trying to grasp an escaping insect.

The intercomm made her go very quiet, though the creature didn't stop trying to escape.]

[Reflexively, Freya let go. The Creature resembled Lucy enough to make her hesitate at its distress, but was wild and wrong enough that she couldn't relax her guard. It was an awkward position to be in.]

I'm not gonna hurt you. Calm down.

[The creature scrambled backwards, crawling onto a row of still standing file cabinets to get more space. It crouched instead of stood, long arms supporting much of its weight. And it still shuddered, making the cabinets under it rattle.]

...not supposed. Not supposed to be here. Here.

[Even the voice sounded wrong, like Lucy's voice reduced to its basic, blunted components. It sounded nervous and like it hadn't slept in days on end, the emphasis of words in strange places. How long had it been? Talking was strange.

It started to crawl forwards--dragging itself, more like, with the arms pulling its body along behind it. It wanted to run away and hide. But Freya was still in here.]

[Freya glanced about the room, then raised her palms in a peaceful gesture. She took one, two, three slow steps back to the threshold of the room.]

What're you looking for?

[The gaunt thing froze when Freya raised her hands, not recognizing the gesture. But it did recognize her backing up. Its limbs pulled it forwards another arm's length.]

Hide. Not supposed to. See. Not supposed to know.

[...well. It was An Answer.]

[AL 288-1. Recolle. Escaped. Please hide.]

You mean the mess out there? [A head nod backwards, towards the splattered halls.]