untilldeath (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
untilldeath) wrote2025-04-12 05:28 pm
untilldeath) wrote2025-04-12 05:28 pm
Limelight Memories
Memories that Till has received and the items and amount of times each one has left for viewing! Memory items have not been used within the order in which they were received.
Memory Items yet to be used:
Flipbook (Unlimited)
Memory Items yet to be used:
Flipbook (Unlimited)
Memory 1
Uses: 1
Remaining: None
Memory: A vision of watching a little pink-haired girl and dark-haired girl playing together in the distance as he watches, hiding behind a tree with a bruised up face and body.
Memory 2
Uses: Unlimited
Remaining: Unlimited
Memory:
[Till is younger than he is now. He looks to be in pain. And he is. Everything hurts.
One eye is so swollen that he can't see out of it anymore, and bruises litter his face and body. Gritting his teeth, he moves gingerly across the cold, bare floor, trying to hold back pained tears that linger at the corners of his lashes. He can't see the collar around his neck, but he can see the light of the little tell-tale red dot, indicating his heart rate is fast on the one that is fastened around his mouth.
He doesn't even remember what he's supposed to have done wrong this time. But opening his mouth and protesting definitely didn't help. Chains are fastened around his ankles, and in the monitored, dungeon-like room, cameras are fixed upon him and follow his movements. That's why he doesn't want them to get any sort of satisfaction from his tears.
The only thing he's been given in the room is some paper, thrown onto the floor, and writing material. He knows that the only way they are going to let him back out again, eventually, is if he properly composes. Dragging his knees up, though, all he can do is think about her. Mizi.
Mizi is warmth and sunshine. Mizi is flowers and summer. Mizi is light. Sniffling a little, he eventually unfolds himself and reaches for a pencil. He's not doing this for them. He's doing it because he wants to see Mizi again. Because if he can just appease them right now, then he won't be stuck in here all alone for days. And he wants to see her. He can go back to class with her, and maybe, she'll even smile at him. She's kind like that.
It takes a couple of starts and doodles of Mizi for inspiration, but finally, he begins penning down notes and ideas for a song. The garden might sometimes be a nightmare too. But it's less lonely when he can see her and the others. And, at the very least, he likes composing.]
Memory 3
Uses: 1
Remaining: 0
Memory: A memory of piggyback rides... and failing to articulate himself to his crush. He'll take what he can get, though!
Memory 4
Uses: Unlimited
Remaining: Unlimited
Memory: Memory of watching Round 5 from inside his little egg capsule, and unsure on what exactly happened to Mizi (the pink-haired girl) at the end of it.
Memory 5
Uses: Unlimited
Remaining: Unlimited
Memory: Memory of performing Round 2 - smashing a living guitar to the ground and defeating Acorn in their musical battle on the stage.
Memory 6
Uses: Unlimited
Remaining: Unlimited
Memory: He got the memory back of receiving the brand on his neck and going through obedience training for having put up such a bad fight over it.
Regains: With this memory, he regained the brand on his neck.
Memory 7
Uses: Unlimited
Remaining: Unlimited
Memory: He received memories of being with his mother and their seperation.
Memory 8
Uses: Until the ink runs out
Remaining: Until the ink runs out
Memory: He has the memory of being experimented on while he plays a guitar for the aliens to study how human brain waves work when playing music.
Memory 9 CW: Abuse and suggested SA
Uses: Must roll a 12
Remaining: Unlimited so long as you can roll a 12
Memory: He takes a memory of a particularly bad Karaoke Party.
----
[ Karaoke. Tomorrow, you are supposed to sing for your life with every fiber of your being– and your last night alive is supposed to be spent singing karaoke for the very same freaks who will bet on and cheer for your death. You try not to think of tomorrow. You try not to think of anything.
The beginning of a song plays and the melody brings you back to the previous rounds and the voices behind it. One of them, at least. Of Mizi. Hollow emptiness fills your stomach and heart. It has been a couple of weeks since her last performance. The image of her broken expression haunts you, then her rage as her pain and sorrow turned to violence– before all hell broke loose.
Your fingertips still haven’t healed since clawing at the glass of your egg-shaped prison to try and get to her, helpless and unable to do anything as confusion, violence, and death swept the stage.
And now she is gone.
Suddenly a microphone is shoved into your face. That’s right. You’re supposed to be singing. On reflex, you turn away from it with a grimace as reality and the present jolt back into place. That is the wrong reaction though. You know it the moment you pull back because you hear the scrape of the chair as your ‘guardian’ rises, throwing part of his dinner across the room at you in front of the guests. Within seconds he is upon you. Pain blossoms in your cheeks and jaw as one of his massive hands grabs your face and drags you forward so that he can snarl down at you. You just stare at him– a mixture of fear stirring in your stomach from the pain you expect, but also a numb nothingness. What more can he do to you that has not already been done…?
Sensing that, he twists you around and shoves your nose toward the table- toward a magazine article. Mizi decorates the cover
‘Missing? Dead?’, it reads.
It’s the question everyone has wanted to know. The images are of her when she snapped, attacking her opponent, Luka, on stage. Mizi. Mizi.
Urak shoves you closer yet.
What does he want? What the fuck does he want from you? What the fuck does he expect? Bitter sorrow and hopelessness turn to blinding rage. You have nothing. There is nothing left for you to lose, and this asshole reminds you by shoving your face into the pain and devastation you have felt since that performance.
Fuck him. Fuck them. Fuck all of them!
White hot rage burns. Teeth gritting, you don’t think as your emotions boil past the ledge. They can die. They can all just burn in hell where they belong, and even that would not be a fraction of the pain they have inflicted! Grabbing for the nearest item you shove up from Urak’s grip and turn, swinging toward the nearest segyein freak you can reach. It doesn’t matter who. You want them all to burn. You want them all to feel pain.
Just die! DIE DIE! DIE!
The bottle smashes into the eye of the nearest monster, before you launch yourself toward another, frantic, wild, and violent as your bottle swings through the air, reaching for them with glass, and nails, and teeth and fists.
Sorely outnumbered, despite doing a good amount of damage, your breath is knocked out of you as you are slammed into a table. Even then you don’t stop fighting. It takes multiple hands to hold you down as your collar is slipped back into place around your neck. Snarling, it is seconds after that when you feel the needle inserted into your throat and the burn of the drug that spreads quickly through your body. Despite resisting, it’s useless as it takes effect. Your perception of reality warps, concentration fades and it's impossible to focus properly, especially when you feel yourself slammed and thrown, your head ringing from the impact.
Perhaps the drug is an unexpected blessing in the end because the rest of the night is much darker. Frantically, your mind reaches for something other than reality to grasp hold of—to do the only thing you can in this moment—to disassociate and disappear.
Mizi…
She floats within your mind.
You don’t want to be left behind. You don’t want to live anymore. Please. Please just come back. If she is really, truly gone for good, then there is no longer any light in this miserable, hopeless world. You want to disappear from it too.]
((Video: The scene starts here.))
Memory 10
Uses: 3
Remaining: 2
Memory: The memory is literally just one of his religious classes, where he's taught to learn about the Great Anakt that they are all meant to worship and love. It sounds like a cult and alien propaganda. Most of the children devotedly follow along.
Till, on the other hand, is simply bored. He doesn't give a damn about an apparent deity that doesn't give a damn about him.
Memory 11
Uses: Whenever forwarded
Remaining:Unlimited
Memory: A young Till attempts to cheer up what appears to be a dying flower and ends up offended due to Ivan.
Memory 12
Uses: Many
Remaining: Until the box runs out
Memory: Till is shocked when others remember his birthday. He receives a number of weird gifts, including a love-hate confession threat note...apparently.