MPC 50B - Me, The Forgotten Memory
May 15, 2018 14:19:35 GMT
Post by Genesis (Basile) on May 15, 2018 14:19:35 GMT
Name: Me, The Forgotten Memory
MPC Scenario: Quite a sharp turn from the 50A prompt; in this prompt, your character has much less to celebrate. Namely, to everyone other than themselves, they have ceased to exist. Yet, their consciousness still wanders the world. How do those around them react? Do they mourn? Do they move on? Was it all a dream in the first place? That is of course up to you.
Requirements: As always, all Monthly Roleplay Challenges require 1000 words to be graded. You may do this alone, or with friends, as long as the thread contains at least 1000 words by all participants. That is to say, if you have multiple participants in a thread, everyone has to make at least 1000 words in total.
Posts Please
It was strange, the nothingness of this life. As he watched human, digimon and spirit users alike live out their lives… He’d tried to interact with anybody, somebody. But no one could see him. He’d often raged at the unfairness of it all, that he was doomed to this hell. But that didn’t really get him anything while he was alive, had he even been alive in the first place? But it wouldn’t help now. He wished that somebody could see him. Anybody, it could be the rudest most anti-social jerk in the world. It could be a genocidal super villain hell bent on world domination. Anybody to talk to would be an upgrade to this hell.
At first he’d refused to believe this was his reality, to be doomed to wander the world as a ghost, a shadow in the corner of someone’s eye. To know that nobody could see, hear or smell him. That he couldn’t interact with anyone. It was maddening. Honestly, if he was honest with himself, he’d lost his sanity a long time ago. The Human Mind Needed other people to interact with, it needed social interaction among other things.
After a while he’d started to imagine what it would be like to be like everyone else, to actually exist it always hurt when his delusions ended. But for those brief shining moments he felt like he existed. That he belonged in the human world. His recent delusion had been the best he’d decided. He’d been a human from a perfectly average family, gotten a Digimon partner for life and they’d gone on adventures throughout both worlds meeting new people and fighting new enemies. It was a great delusion while it lasted.
But his delusions could only shatter as he was pulled back into that foul reality of his situation as a damned soul needed judgement. He mused back to when he was first instated to this ‘position’. The screech of rubber on cement, the blaring horn and panicked yells for people to get out of the way. A brief moment of agony before his head was crushed under the speeding cars wheels and then nothing. He’d woken up as a spectre… a ghost.
He more ‘felt’ rather than heard or saw the waiting-to-be-judged-dead. It wasn’t enough that some jackass had sped nearly 40 miles over the limit and killed him on impact. Someone had to rob him of his afterlife and damn him to this hell. He’d awoken as a spirit and gained the power to judge the dead and either elevate them to heaven or damn them to hell. First the first week after he’d discovered this, he’d tried both options on himself. Neither Worked. It was only after about a year of this existence that he decided to be ‘Death’ if nothing else… it broke up the tedium of non-existence quite nicely.
Of course, even death had his favourites, a couple of lucky shibuyans were approaching Superman levels of invulnerability and some ‘bad guys’ were approaching ‘sneezes would give them concussions’ level of frailty. Was it Fair? No. Then again, neither was life. He’d always taken their lives into account. It was *Natural* for him to have favourites. They often showed up when he deluded himself into believing he was real. Sometimes they were his allies, possibly even lovers. Sometimes they were his bitter enemies who he battled with fiercely.
As the shadow of death poked around the soul’s memories… he supposed he’d be nice this time. A boring human life, nothing special about him and he’d worked the grave yard shift at the local super market… nothing good. But nothing bad either. He ascended the soul with some regret. Why was it so easy to ascend these good for nothing losers when it was impossible for himself? It wasn’t fair. Then again… neither was life…
One of his current favourites, Miyu and Bloom were battling with some good for nothing Digimon who’d come to the human world to cause trouble, he overlooked the battle with interest. He had been initially attracted to the pair because of their sunny dispositions and always positive outlook, he’d watched quite closely then, as he normally did with his favourites. Keeping tabs on them if he couldn’t interact with them, then they were definitely surviving till they died of old age and damn near nothing else.
He watched as Bloom was easily overpowering the invading digimon, She’d recently finished her quest, she’d reached the pinnacle of Digimon power, the Super Mega State. To everyone else it was like going Super Saiyan. It was a form with such overwhelming power that it couldn’t possibly be beaten. If he still needed to eat, he’d compare it to like watching a movie, with popcorn and soda. Watching the hero’s comeback that won them the battle.
The Invader snarled at Bloom/Miyu …. their biomerged form thingy. It was on it’s knees panting and thoroughly spent from the battle. He watched as the pair he’d quickly come to like offer the beast mercy. Sometimes he thought they were idiots… but he could understand why they were the way they were. Hell, he’d kill for a friend if it meant freedom from this lonely afterlife.
That’s when everything went wrong, the creature slammed its hand *through* the combined Super Mega’s chest. And Horror rippled through him. With more than small amount of fury. He’d effectively decided on damning that soul just out of spite. He watched as one of his other Favourites. Cinder, who had been waiting in the wings announced her presence by Impaling the Invader on her Firey Katana thing. But the brutalising didn’t end there… He watched as Cinder ripped It’s hand Off and started cutting it to shreds. He didn’t bother watching the murder, he’d see it in the Invaders memories after all… He was watching the biomerged form of Miyu and Bloom… That wound was fatal regardless of power level… everyone needed a healthy pair of lungs and heart. The creature had lightly grazed the heart but had hurt the lungs. He watched as familiar shadows started to gather only for him to wave them off. He could ignore the call to collect a soul if he tried hard enough… though it got harder the more times he’d waved the death off.
With their forms Regeneration, they’d survive if he didn’t accept their soul. So he would endure and use every ounce of his willpower to keep them alive. Resisting was hard. It was like taking the weight of the world upon your shoulders quite literally, if he could feel pain he’d have never been able to save anybody…
But because he couldn’t, it was his willpower versus the ‘natural order’ of the world. It was a race against her regeneration. Their regeneration was going to win. If he was forced into this role, then the world would bow to his whims and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. Because god dammit he deserved something for being the universes plaything like this.
Final Word Count - 1178
MPC Scenario: Quite a sharp turn from the 50A prompt; in this prompt, your character has much less to celebrate. Namely, to everyone other than themselves, they have ceased to exist. Yet, their consciousness still wanders the world. How do those around them react? Do they mourn? Do they move on? Was it all a dream in the first place? That is of course up to you.
Requirements: As always, all Monthly Roleplay Challenges require 1000 words to be graded. You may do this alone, or with friends, as long as the thread contains at least 1000 words by all participants. That is to say, if you have multiple participants in a thread, everyone has to make at least 1000 words in total.
Posts Please
It was strange, the nothingness of this life. As he watched human, digimon and spirit users alike live out their lives… He’d tried to interact with anybody, somebody. But no one could see him. He’d often raged at the unfairness of it all, that he was doomed to this hell. But that didn’t really get him anything while he was alive, had he even been alive in the first place? But it wouldn’t help now. He wished that somebody could see him. Anybody, it could be the rudest most anti-social jerk in the world. It could be a genocidal super villain hell bent on world domination. Anybody to talk to would be an upgrade to this hell.
At first he’d refused to believe this was his reality, to be doomed to wander the world as a ghost, a shadow in the corner of someone’s eye. To know that nobody could see, hear or smell him. That he couldn’t interact with anyone. It was maddening. Honestly, if he was honest with himself, he’d lost his sanity a long time ago. The Human Mind Needed other people to interact with, it needed social interaction among other things.
After a while he’d started to imagine what it would be like to be like everyone else, to actually exist it always hurt when his delusions ended. But for those brief shining moments he felt like he existed. That he belonged in the human world. His recent delusion had been the best he’d decided. He’d been a human from a perfectly average family, gotten a Digimon partner for life and they’d gone on adventures throughout both worlds meeting new people and fighting new enemies. It was a great delusion while it lasted.
But his delusions could only shatter as he was pulled back into that foul reality of his situation as a damned soul needed judgement. He mused back to when he was first instated to this ‘position’. The screech of rubber on cement, the blaring horn and panicked yells for people to get out of the way. A brief moment of agony before his head was crushed under the speeding cars wheels and then nothing. He’d woken up as a spectre… a ghost.
He more ‘felt’ rather than heard or saw the waiting-to-be-judged-dead. It wasn’t enough that some jackass had sped nearly 40 miles over the limit and killed him on impact. Someone had to rob him of his afterlife and damn him to this hell. He’d awoken as a spirit and gained the power to judge the dead and either elevate them to heaven or damn them to hell. First the first week after he’d discovered this, he’d tried both options on himself. Neither Worked. It was only after about a year of this existence that he decided to be ‘Death’ if nothing else… it broke up the tedium of non-existence quite nicely.
Of course, even death had his favourites, a couple of lucky shibuyans were approaching Superman levels of invulnerability and some ‘bad guys’ were approaching ‘sneezes would give them concussions’ level of frailty. Was it Fair? No. Then again, neither was life. He’d always taken their lives into account. It was *Natural* for him to have favourites. They often showed up when he deluded himself into believing he was real. Sometimes they were his allies, possibly even lovers. Sometimes they were his bitter enemies who he battled with fiercely.
As the shadow of death poked around the soul’s memories… he supposed he’d be nice this time. A boring human life, nothing special about him and he’d worked the grave yard shift at the local super market… nothing good. But nothing bad either. He ascended the soul with some regret. Why was it so easy to ascend these good for nothing losers when it was impossible for himself? It wasn’t fair. Then again… neither was life…
One of his current favourites, Miyu and Bloom were battling with some good for nothing Digimon who’d come to the human world to cause trouble, he overlooked the battle with interest. He had been initially attracted to the pair because of their sunny dispositions and always positive outlook, he’d watched quite closely then, as he normally did with his favourites. Keeping tabs on them if he couldn’t interact with them, then they were definitely surviving till they died of old age and damn near nothing else.
He watched as Bloom was easily overpowering the invading digimon, She’d recently finished her quest, she’d reached the pinnacle of Digimon power, the Super Mega State. To everyone else it was like going Super Saiyan. It was a form with such overwhelming power that it couldn’t possibly be beaten. If he still needed to eat, he’d compare it to like watching a movie, with popcorn and soda. Watching the hero’s comeback that won them the battle.
The Invader snarled at Bloom/Miyu …. their biomerged form thingy. It was on it’s knees panting and thoroughly spent from the battle. He watched as the pair he’d quickly come to like offer the beast mercy. Sometimes he thought they were idiots… but he could understand why they were the way they were. Hell, he’d kill for a friend if it meant freedom from this lonely afterlife.
That’s when everything went wrong, the creature slammed its hand *through* the combined Super Mega’s chest. And Horror rippled through him. With more than small amount of fury. He’d effectively decided on damning that soul just out of spite. He watched as one of his other Favourites. Cinder, who had been waiting in the wings announced her presence by Impaling the Invader on her Firey Katana thing. But the brutalising didn’t end there… He watched as Cinder ripped It’s hand Off and started cutting it to shreds. He didn’t bother watching the murder, he’d see it in the Invaders memories after all… He was watching the biomerged form of Miyu and Bloom… That wound was fatal regardless of power level… everyone needed a healthy pair of lungs and heart. The creature had lightly grazed the heart but had hurt the lungs. He watched as familiar shadows started to gather only for him to wave them off. He could ignore the call to collect a soul if he tried hard enough… though it got harder the more times he’d waved the death off.
With their forms Regeneration, they’d survive if he didn’t accept their soul. So he would endure and use every ounce of his willpower to keep them alive. Resisting was hard. It was like taking the weight of the world upon your shoulders quite literally, if he could feel pain he’d have never been able to save anybody…
But because he couldn’t, it was his willpower versus the ‘natural order’ of the world. It was a race against her regeneration. Their regeneration was going to win. If he was forced into this role, then the world would bow to his whims and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. Because god dammit he deserved something for being the universes plaything like this.
Final Word Count - 1178
