[EVENT] Memory Tapes

[vrdr_mods]

On the morning of November 21st, denizens in the Velvet Room will awake to a message on their phones or by their bedsides in an envelope. Perhaps even on their computer screens.

Greetings! If you've received this message, then you've been selected as a participant in a new activity to strengthen bonds within this community.

In order to facilitate connections with your fellow residents, we advise you to watch this video. Watch it and return the tape to its rightful owner. If you lacked the means to watch VHS tapes before, we have provided you with the necessary equipment.

Failure to do so may put your own memories at risk. Do not be selfish, lest you find yourself struggling to recall crucial moments of your life. You have no way of knowing which memories have been shared, so ask yourself if it is worth the risk to selfishly hoard another's secrets.

They will soon find a VHS tape, with a case that gives off a soft, blue glow to symbolize its importance. If they lack a TV or VCR, they will find one in their living space.

What they do is up to them, but they should heed the warning, if they value their own memories.


[For links to characters' memories, please see this post in the OOC comm. Have fun!]

Comments

[mirrorkechi]

Network
Ah yes so I’ve seen this announcement which explains a few things. I’ll keep this brief, if your an Akira with some sort of time travel ability I believe I have something of yours. I’m open for contact so we can find a way to return this.

return to sender
you can either find Akechi in person or contact him via the network to return/discuss tapes

Locked and super private to mirrorkechi

[linkclickakira]

[this message was deleted] DUDE???? WHAT THE HELL??


Akira's eyes practically pop out of their sockets as he looks at the text like he's just seen Goro die all over again- which in itself is an exaggeration but in the context of the fact that everyone can read this message will pound down on it a million times. He can already see the ripples.

He takes a screenshot of the chat. Then another. Just in case he has to go back to it. If Igor allows him to.

Uh I mean.
I am the Akira. Its me. Don't worry about the context.
Could you please take down that post and give me the time and place to meet up so I can collect it?

Re: Locked and super private to mirrorkechi

[mirrorkechi]

Oh that was quick. Well he supposed it’s not exactly a common ability to have. Better reply.
do you realize how concerning that sounds even with the context? Regardless I don’t mind deleting the post though I am curious as to why.
I digress. Do you know where Penguin Sniper is beyond the Tokyo door? Unless you are busy I can meet you there in about an hour

[linkclickakira]

I just...don't want the attention, I guess. I don't want to experiment how this place deals with anomalies like me.
Even if he did push his luck with Falcon, he doesn't want a repeat of that.

Ah.
Penguin sniper.
Trust me I would teleport to your place rn Sounds good! An hour from now!

He winces- looking through another reply from...shit. He knows him. That Ren. The profile is a match.
Oh well. That is future Kira's problem.

We can play billiards or darts or smth. I promise its not as terrible as it sounds.

[mirrorkechi]

of course. I’ll see you then.
I can still delete the post if you wish though it appears it’s already been seen. Apologies for the attention this has drawn. I wasn’t aware this was a big deal
It’s time travel, I mean of course it’s a little bit of a big deal.
But if it’s already been seen then rumors can spread and… yeah

TW: suicidal thoughts

[linkclickakira]

Yep, Akira can see that it is seen as well.
Lucky me.
His heart pangs in his chest- sheer panic building up within his nerves as he looks at the comments now spewing through this Akechi's comment and he half wishes that people could die so that he could shoot himself in the head again.

Just delete the post. Please.

network

[willowandoak]

[ But it's too late. Before Akechi can take down the post, if indeed he was going to do so, Ren finds it. ]

theres a time traveller here?

network

[reluctantprince]

Ren....

[herewardbound]

arent there like


three at this point
how is this news still

[lakebrat]

*Three*? Really?

[Is he that out of the loop?]

[herewardbound]

four now ig?

[willowandoak]

ok fair
but i wouldnt have said u have a time-travel ability urself u know
its different if smth else is doing it to i
*u

Re: network

[cybermask]

gotta be more specific theres. Several. One that shoots himself, then Crane,

[willowandoak]

[ Aaand there's Futaba. ]

crane doesnt count, go back to the other one

[ Locked to Futaba: ]

i got one of ur tapes btw

[cybermask]

that's not shocking. I expected you would out of everyone.

[willowandoak]

[ By that logic, Futaba should have gotten one of Ren's. He doesn't like that thought. ]

did u get one of mine then
i can come by and bring urs back either way
also seriously can we get back to the guy who shoots himself and time travels

Re: super private reply to bmtaba

[linkclickakira]

I DO NOT shoot myself. I simply excel in dying and making it everyone's problem.
On second thought can we like not engage with this. please.

Re: network

[mirrorkechi]

I’m sorry there’s more than one time traveler???? What is wrong with this place!

[fogboundcrow]

Time travel sounds fascinating.

Easy to abuse, but it's one of the oldest fantasies.

only reading the text. not replying

[linkclickakira]

Akira grits his teeth as he looks at the replies flying in around the network- considering the next best way to gear himself up for the inevitable. He's usually very prepared for something like this but something tells him he wouldn't be able to contain this secret for long.

Or maybe...he should pose as a newcomer?

The wide-eyed innocent response almost takes him back to how he first started in all of this. Despite getting arrested when he tried to undo his own grief...he had it all together atleast.
And now?
Now it all seems like a distinct memory.

[takutomaruki]

[Well let's just say after a certain long day, or perhaps even days of recovery- Maruki has now finally found the energy to finally respond and actually understand how the network works. He even went as far as to go through this specific Akechis post and a certain post where him and Hannei talked closely]

I believe I have your tape.

Where would you like to meet?

[mirrorkechi]

Oh great he does have a tape floating out there.
Wonderful.
I see, thank you for contacting me then, how about we meet at the Junes in the Inaba door? I can be there in 30 minutes

He still isn’t quite sure what to make of the man, he hasn’t heard great things but also hasn’t met the man himself either. Better keep it on neutral ground then.

[takutomaruki]

I won't be able to make it there that quickly.

Make it two hours. Please.

[mirrorkechi]

very well, I’ve no reason to argue against that. I’ll see you in two hours then

Wonder what the hold up could be? Oh well, that’s not his problem, if he’s curious he could just ask Hannei to snoop around.
And currently he isn’t.

[takutomaruki]

Okay.

That's all Mockingbird would see on the other side.

---

The quiet hum of fluorescent lights buzzed softly in the dim room as Maruki sat slouched in a chair, one arm trembling as he tried to wrap fresh gauze around the gnarled, pulsating wound on his left hand. His lab—the same one that had once been his Palace—was now a patchwork of reality and unreality and a whole fucking mess

Files and bookshelves stood where twisted roots and distorted landscapes once claimed dominance. The remnants of his power lingered like ghosts, whispering to him from the corners of his consciousness.

The mirror on the far wall reflected a version of himself he barely recognized. The black-green scarring that crawled across his face like veins seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. He winced as he touched the edge of his face mask—a haphazardly stitched piece of black conjured to fit his face while he worked away the healing spell in the background. The greenish hue seeped past the edges, an eerie reminder of Azathoth’s lingering presence.

His Persona was silent now, but its betrayal echoed louder than any words.

“Damn it...” Maruki muttered, his voice raw. The gauze unraveled again in his shaking fingers, and he slammed a fist against the desk. The pain shot up his arm like a firework, but he welcomed it. It was grounding.

The memory of Corvus—of Kou—stabbed at his mind. The look of sheer agony on his face, the anger that had echoed through the trauma maze... It hadn’t been meant to hurt him. Maruki had only wanted to help.
To show him a path forward, past grief. Happiness.

But instead, he had unleashed horrors that no one should ever endure.

And in the end, Azathoth had deemed him unworthy of even his own body’s autonomy.

The bandage slipped loose again. This time, Maruki forced himself to breathe and tried again. His hands steadied, bit by bit, as he worked. He had learned to patch himself up after his power turned inward, when the Megidolaons had ravaged his body. Each layer of gauze and tape was both a physical necessity and a ritual—a reminder of his failures, yes, but also that he was still alive. Barely.

Alive enough to make amends. Or try.

After finishing the last knot, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the directory on his desk. Another tape bearing a label, a name, a story. His eyes fell on one in particular: Mockingbird. Hannei. Another Akechi, another thread to untangle. His body screamed for rest, but guilt refused to let him stop.

With a sigh, he reached for the mask he’d prepared to cover the veins. Its surface felt scratchy against his fingertips, and he hesitated before wearing it to his face. The scarring resisted, flaring briefly in pain before quieting down. The green-black lines, while still visible at the edges, were mercifully obscured.

Maruki stood, every movement slow and deliberate.

The tape labeled Mockingbird rested on top of the directory now. His fingers brushed over the label, lingering for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

“Maybe this time... I’ll get it right,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the room.

With that, he gets up, leaves the Lab with the tape tucked in the wide pocket of his black hoodie (one that he widened enough using his persona) and opens the door stabnding effortlessly at the side of the streets of Odaiba.
Whether it was simply the cruel twist of fate or something else entirely, he's back in the cold blue room. The woman's voice singing to him as he looked onward.

Inaba.