peckishmods: ([other] memory)
peckishmods ([personal profile] peckishmods) wrote in [community profile] peckenpaugh 2020-06-07 06:51 pm (UTC)

MEMORY: A Nightmare

[?UNMODERATED? - the player who wrote this memory may add some moderation at their discretion]
[CRITERIA: Minimum 3 Replies Per Character]
[RESERVE: Wildgulch Juniors]


Pitch black. Silent. Still.

Broken suddenly by the sighing of a floorboard, followed by a sharp intake of breath. A pause, as whoever is there waits to see if they’ve been heard.

“Let’s go back,” a girl whispers.

“No, it’s okay,” another girl whispers in reply. Both voices sound familiar, but without seeing their faces, you find it hard to place them exactly.

“It’s not worth it,” the first pleads.

“No one’s making you come with me.” It’s harsher than she intended -- the result of being nervous no doubt -- and in the silence that follows, you can tell the second girl regrets having said it. That she’s grateful for the first girl’s company. And after a few seconds, when it’s clear the first girl hasn’t left and isn’t going to, the second girl adds, “Thank you.”

”Lumos.” The first girl illuminates the space before them: a locked door. The second pulls out a set of keys, careful not to let any of them jingle against each other. Her hands tremble, just slightly, and you notice that her nails have been chewed down. “It’s okay,” the first girl whispers, and the words magically relax the knots in the second girl’s hands. She slides the key into the lock without a sound.

They extinguish the wand and swing the door open slowly. The light from a crescent moon filters through slatted blinds, illuminating the room in a striped pattern. The effect is like looking at a reassembled photo that’s been put through a paper shredder.

In front of them is a wholly unnatural sight. At the center of the room are beds, pushed together, atop which is an orgy of limbs, pillows, and blankets. The Wildgulch Juniors. The mass rises and falls as they dream in unison. It’s like a living, breathing island of trash in the middle of the ocean.

The two girls take a step forward and into the light. And you see them for the first time: Bear Santiago and Coriander Picquery, their faces painted in a mixture of horror and disgust. Bear looks across the room, eyes landing on a green one-piece bathing suit, draped over the back of a chair.

“It’s suicide,” Coriander whispers and we now identify her voice as the first girl from earlier.

Bear looks back at her. “It’s your birthday and I said we’d go to the hot springs.” And that’s that.

The two girls look back over the dorm. In addition to the monstrosity that is Big Bed, the room is littered with desks, which in turn are littered with an assortment of items. Textbooks, sleeping familiars, potion vials, cowboy boots, a Big Gulp, a guitar, milk that’s nearing its expiration date, a shrine to someone named Oliver, and much much more.

Bear reaches back and offers her hand to Coriander. The girl takes it and the scene freezes.

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