Cursed Night Market

[pantheraliam]

Welcome

You’re not sure how you got here, but you don’t seem to mind. You feel a pervasive sense of calm with regard to your environment. You have entered what appears to be a night market. Perhaps the concept is familiar to you, or perhaps it isn’t. Colorful stalls, glowing with lantern light, line the path before you. You know what you need to do to return to where you came from. Investigate the various stalls - buy and sell what you have, until you’re able to purchase a path back. The merchants will take any currency that you have on hand. If you don’t have any, you will find some coins of an ambiguous nature in your pocket.

Rare Items

The first stall that you encounter boasts that you can buy and sell rare items. After trading a coin, the merchant hands you something - insists you take it. You don’t recognize the item, but the person behind you does. It is something extremely dear to them. If they check their person, they will find the item missing. If you attempt to return the item to them, you will find that you are unable to. Helpfully, the merchant offers that the person the item belongs to must tell the buyer a story about the item before it can be returned.

Fortunes

The second stall you encounter claims to buy and sell fortunes. Trading a coin, the merchant will relay to you a fortune, but, as you listen, you realize that it isn’t your fortune at all. With a cackle, the merchant explains that you must deliver the fortune with the person behind you. Neither of you can leave the booth until you have revealed to them their future.

Memories

The third stall you encounter claims to buy and sell memories. You can choose to sell the merchant a memory you would like to forget, or you can ask to buy someone else’s memory. Selling your memory will transfer it to the person behind you. In return, you will gain one of their memories. Buying a random memory will instead cause you to forget one of the people most important to you. In some instances, you might feel a great urgency to find someone, although you don't know who it is.

Dreams

The fourth stall you encounter claims to buy and sell dreams. Trading a coin at this stall will cause you and the person behind you to be transported into a shared dream. The dream may be about the highest point in your life or the lowest. It may also be about a close friend, there or gone. It may reveal your greatest desire or your greatest insecurity. Or any number of other things!

OOC notes

Suggestions on prompts: if you’re going to write one where someone will be seeing/receiving something from your character, it’s helpful to describe it in detail in the brackets in your TL. I know some of these prompts are probably a little confusing, but, I mean…it’s roleplay. Just fuck around. No one’s gonna police how you do things here.

Please feel free to top-level, tag in, and share this meme wherever you’d like - it is open to anyone. The four stalls mentioned are prompt suggestions, but you can go crazy and have any stall do basically anything you want. Please see/use subject line CWs. This musebox doesn’t have a dedicated rule list because it’s just for my personal shit, but please be kind, follow standard RP rules - just be nice! Do the right thing! If you have any questions, hit me up here.

code by Flyleaf ❖ inspired by event code by 10billionghosts ❖ background via unsplash

Comments

[sadpoem]

[Sure, then...If the fortune didn't say anything else, it's all over, and they can go...

[...but, they can't go. They're still here. Basil isn't telling the truth, and Sunny hasn't noticed himself gripping his own chest as he watches his friend's lips lie.

[Everything is not okay...]

There...has...to be more...

[forbiddenlore]

[He took a moment to compose himself, Eren was right, panicking wouldn’t solve anything.

Or at least succumbing to his panic wouldn’t. He was absolutely capable of panicking and being fully functional at the same time. It was called multitasking, and it just so happened to be a speciality of his.

So he looked himself over for any signs of transformation. His arms were clear, legs still infuriatingly rigid, skin still that Sandy human color.]

Provided there’s no signs of that I’m reverting on my face, I should have twenty-four hours at least, three to four days at most.

[He stepped back closer to Eren and glanced over at the stalls.]

It’s a long shot, but if this is a market, perhaps we might find a vial here? Or even just the reagents so I can make something myself.

[abandonhumanity]

[Eren lets out a short breath, momentarily closing his eyes as he nods, as if afflicted by whatever's caused Maruki to lean against the stall; he doesn't lean, himself.]

I guess it is. [Slowly, green eyes open - duller than they were, or maybe as dull as Maruki remembers, but still green, nonetheless.] Not just all that you've experienced, but others, too - countless others.

Imagine that for a minute...

[courageless]

Why, to deal with obstacles of course! Monsters, boulders in your path, enemies. The mallet comes in handy all the time!

> dreams !! (laby maruki, canon armin :3c)

[placation]

[ Maruki doesn't know him, not really– but he does. In the way that no one is truly a stranger in dreams, and– something else.

That would be strange enough, and then there's the fact that he hasn't dreamt since he regained Azathoth's abilities and was able to leave that facsimile of an office. He relives recent memories when he sleeps, sometimes, but that's the extent of it.

Either Somnius is fucking with him, or his subconscious is beginning to break in new and exciting ways. Perhaps both.

His own pantlegs are similarly rolled. The water is cool, laps at his shins. It's– peaceful, he thinks, though he's on edge by design.

Maybe they're sharing dreams again. Maybe he's new. Maruki keeps his voice soft so as not to scare him as he announces his presence. ]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. Are you... lost out here?

[abandonhumanity]

[Azul knows a lot more about potions and potion-making than Eren does. Maybe he can indeed find the ingredients.]

What would you need?

[placation]

[ Maybe he got lucky, in the end. The collective unconscious was his to tap into and his to leave behind as he desired. Sift through someone's memories to find what would make them happiest, then move on to the next. They didn't linger with him, not in any real way. Not in the way Eren experienced. ]

I'm imagining, and it's a nightmare.

[ Inhale, hold. Exhale, hold. Always with the breathing.

His head aches, but that's nothing new, and for a quiet moment he only watches Eren. ]

You're– different. Than either of the ones that I know. [ Knew? No, present tense. They know one another everywhere, in every time, even when they aren't together. Maruki's sure of that. ] How?

[placation]

[ To his credit, he tries to hand it over the, but–

No luck. Like his arms are locked. His hand curls around the glove and he looks over at the merchant who's tutting his tongue at them like they're particularly stupid children.

Maruki turns his attention back to Akechi, brows raised. ]

I guess that's not good enough. It does say rare items, to be fair...

[ Akechi's always wearing gloves. A single piece from one of the many pairs he surely had back in their true reality shouldn't be considered rare. ]

What's rare about it? Maybe that will work.

[abandonhumanity]

[Always with the breathing, but...upon closer inspection, Eren isn't breathing...

[Therein lies the difference Maruki is searching for.

[They both knew he would die; Eren still dreads the reaction. Maruki cares. Eren believes that he loves him. He knows the grief that he's caused for so many others. What's one more, and yet...]

I'm dead. Actually dead. That might be it...

HEHEHE

[thebomb]

[The presence doesn't startle Armin. He sensed it, somehow, even before he heard Maruki's voice. At first, he doesn't turn from where he's staring out at the waves. There's truly nothing...

[At last, he faces the stranger. Armin doesn't recognize Maruki the way Maruki recognizes him. He's out of place; lost.]

I'm not...[No. He knows exactly what he's looking at.

[He smiles, easy. There's something beneath it.] I was just expecting to be alone.

[herosandwich]

Well, it does sound useful, but I don't come from a place with monsters, and I've never had to smash any boulders, either.

[courageless]

Well, that is a shame! I'm sure you could have been a hero in the making.

oh i can only recommend watching the full video when you wake : ))) Them

[placation]

[ If Maruki only had memories of his life in Tokyo up until Christmas Eve, he might crumble into grief. Maybe if he only had those memories, and then the ones from a medieval village in the space between waking and dreams. But he has so much more than that, the knowledge of the realities they've inhabited together, separately – the cyclical nature of life and death, love and grief, memory and consciousness – the sea of mankind's hearts to which they'll all return – the Paths – the Aetherial Sea – everything – all of it– ]

We die, but we don't.

[ Stated softly, simply, with a smile that's more peaceful than anything else. ]

You're dead, but you're not. You're here. We both are. Maybe I'm dead too. Who knows?

[ And then, because he knows his friend: ]

How does it feel?

[placation]

Ah, sorry, I can go...

[ Except–

It's been so long since he last dreamed, and he was never able to get himself out of them before. It took someone else waking him, or else he'd see it through to its natural end. He tries pinching his arm, sleeves rolled up to his elbows; no luck. Tries looking around for anywhere he could go to leave this guy alone; there's only water, and his feet feel leaden in the sand.

Maruki's mouth twists into an apologetic grimace. ]

It appears that's a lie. I can't. But I can keep to myself, if you don't want the company.

[forbiddenlore]

It depends. It’s unlikely they’ll have what I need for the transformation potion, it’s difficult and costly in general, but potions for land breathing are made made of more common reagents.

[and once more he takes hold of his husband’s arm, ready to resume their leisurely stroll.]

Let’s go browsing, shall we?

[notwalking]

[ Guy from 1959 hears a lightly Slavic accent? Fun stuff! Charlie squints at the guy, takes in his uniform, and then–

Oh, they're playing keepaway with the book. Real mature. Sheesh.

He doesn't reach for it, because he's not a damn kid. Just listens to the recitation and rolls his eyes. ]

Live is the word you don't get in that line? What's the alternative, dying deliberately?

[ Hm. Ouch! He hurt himself in his confusion. But he stands by it, eyes bright with a challenge. ]

cw: LOTS OF BLOOD

[thebomb]

[Armin watches this man - polite, apologetic - pinch himself and turn in every direction, searching for a way to limit inconvenience. He feels fondness, grief. Human beings are, sometimes, such funny, awkward, fumbling things. There is kindness. There is, as ever, kindness...]

If you're pinching yourself, then...this is only a dream?

[It makes more sense that way. What he really saw was...

[Blood. It's up to their knees now. The stench of it is inescapable and everywhere. Flowing water becomes viscous, red rot.

[Armin watches the horizon, but there's nothing else.

[The world He wanted to see...]

Sorry...[Idle, distant. He sounds sorry, but...there's no horror. Shouldn't there be horror?]

I really was expecting to be alone.

[herosandwich]

Oh-- [Hero interrupts himself with a bright laugh, throwing his head back.] Well, you might not believe it, but I already am a Hero - that's my name.

[dreamdog]

[Mm. Dying. He thinks of someone. A dreamy, giddy grin spreads out over his lips. Prokopenko looks relatively harmless most of the time, but there is some wickedness to that grin remisicent of someone crueler.]

Dying is a boring side effect.

cw: suicidal ideation

[abandonhumanity]

[He's dead, but he's not. How does it feel?

[The same way it always feels to be awake. It's always been Hell, hasn't it? Eren was never satisfied - never can be, maybe, because he still isn't. Memories endure, always, many more terrible than beautiful. There is no death - no peace - for people like Eren and Maruki. He'll struggle to accept that forever, maybe; he's lived so many forevers, already.

[Eren doesn't breathe. At least, there's that.

[His response, finally, perhaps unsatisfactory:]

I wish it would stick.

[Still. He's glad to see Maruki.]

Clearly, that's just not how it works.

[abandonhumanity]

[Azul is so good at acting composed that it's hard to tell if he's actually still nervous at all, but Eren can't help but assume. Tightening his grip on his husband again, he moves them down the row of stalls; looking at the signs, however...]

Dreams...

Memories? [A glance at Azul, asking an unspoken question - what in the Hell is that supposed to mean?

[The principles remind him, vaguely, of things the Founder's power is supposedly able to influence, though he's never been allowed to try...]

Hold on. Let's look...[And they move toward the memory booth.]

[bellismortis]

[Basil’s not one for crowds, but even he would rather get lost in one than venture into the murky black beyond the market. So it’s just a short walk towards the middle of the market, maybe towards a food stand, away from these suspicious shops—on which note…]

Have you… noticed anything strange? About the stalls?

[bellismortis]

Th– There really doesn’t! [Ha. Hahahaha. Basil tries to muster a laugh; it looks more like a grimace. Sunny can’t be leaving, and want to talk about it now. Basil even tried, before he learned. Not now, hours away from…]

We can just… stay here. You, and me. [And it will be okay. He doesn’t dare reach for Sunny’s hand, but his own pry and tangle, bony fingers twisting, untwisting, perfect little knots…

[sadpoem]

[No...

[No, they can't stay here - at this booth where they can't walk away? What in the Hell is Basil talking about? None of this is okay! Sunny winces, his own knuckles turning bone white with their grip on his vest.]

We...can't...

YAY FINALLY I GET MY OWN BLOOD OCEAN

[placation]

[ Ah. There it is.

The blood startles him; of course it does. He staggers a couple steps back, arms drawing up protectively in front of him, but there's no threat to defend against. Just blood.

He's never been good with seeing so much of it, and this is more than ever before. His stomach turns. He wants Azathoth.

And the other dreamer–

Doesn't seem bothered at all. ]

Well, I wouldn't want you to be alone in the middle of this mess, so maybe it's glad that I came. But yes, it's a dream...

[ It's his lot in life to always have such an ironclad awareness of his own consciousness. It's exhausting.

He tries to offer a smile, nervous, fleeting. ]

My name is Dr. Maruki. Maybe I can try to help you get out of this...?