Quinn's Recorded Sensations

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*DigitalDragoon
Posts: 212
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *DigitalDragoon »


Initiation
Sponsored by Sasha Andor and recorded with her assistance
*These are publicly available unless otherwise noted.
wrote:Touch - Sensation of Purification by Reincarnation
The memory starts with a dull, cold feeling. Some part of the viewer's mind is aware they are laying on the grass at the center of a ring of standing stones.

A slight pressure at the sides of your head forces the memory outward, staring up into a blurred face above you. The figure's long hair obscures most of the view. "Are you rrready?" A voice growls quietly, but in a calm tone. "This only has a chance to work." You response is a strained and hollow voice. "I am." Immediately a pulse of warmth traces through your skull, echoing through your bones in a rising sensation of burning, cleansing magic. you rattle faintly, system succumbing to shock as something within you is wrenched and seared away. A flicker of grey appears before your eyes before a blinding white envelopes your sight. There is a numb agony, the desire to scream but nothing responds to your will any longer. A second memory bleeds through, reminding you of this..a crippling pain and scent of decay..It reminds you why this was necessary.

The Memory jars.

When it consolidates again, it is dark and voices can be heard. Something tickles against your skin...Grass. A Breeze. You actually feel these things and it is a wonder to simply feel it again.. Actually feel it. You know it worked. So much pain and misery is truly at it's end.

The Memory fades..
wrote:Sound - Story time
The memory begins with the faint crackling of a fire and expands outward. You find yourself within a room of a small, humble cottage. It is warm, though sounds of rain lapping at the windows and wind hissing over the eaves can be discerned.

A small voice pleads for a story and your attention is drawn to a young human girl with dark hair, bouncing restlessly on her bed. Pity wells as memories of taking her in bubble to the surface..her mother. Such a pity. "Alright, Alright." You hear yourself chuckle softly. "Settle down. I think I have just the story for a night such as this..Have you heard the tale of the Great Panther and Night Hag?" It is a story you have told her before.

Her favorite stories are the adventures of the Grey Witch and her fey companion, the Great Panther. As you rattle off the familiar tale, awe shines in her features. You pay little mind to your words as the grim tale runs it's course.

When the tale has finished and you begin to leave you heard her small voice pipe up once more, giving you pause.

"Goodnight Papa, I love you!"

It makes your heart skip for a moment and a small smile begins to form as the memory fades.
wrote:Taste - Honey Cake
The memory unfolds on stumbling out of the dark into a brightly lit, warm shop that smells of wood fire and baked goods. Feelings of weariness and hunger leave you feeling slightly distracted.

A pudgy human woman behind the counter takes notice of you and beckons cheerfully, Chittering on happily about her shop. She offers a slice of something that seems unfamiliar to you, saying it is a free sample and to not worry about the cost. The food is accepted gratefully, as hunger continues to gnaw at your gut.

You try a bite. This taste...What is this? It is overwhelming to yours senses. Rich and flufy with the sweet sticky flavor of honey. You cannot remember the last time you tasted anything so miraculous. You force yourself to eat it slowly, savoring the flavors.

You vow to yourself you will find a way to be able to eat such treats everyday one day.

The memory fades..
wrote:Smell - Sewage
A wretched stench assaults your nose the moment the memory begins. You can feel the wet slap of something raining down on your cloak and find yourself thanking whatever powers that be you purchased something with such a large hood.

Wondering why you are evne doing this, You look up from the dismay that is filth pooling up around your boots on the drain you stand over. Through the discolored liquid pouring over your mercifully large hood, you can see the smug face of a blond half-elf woman. Resignation fills you, much as the smell fills your nose. Ah. Yes. She asked you to stand here, in this fountain of filth for her amusement. You feel mixed feelings watching her take joy in such a humilating thing. You want her to be happy but this seems abit much. Protesting is not worth risking her bow though. She used barbed arrows the last time you protested.

With a small sigh, trying not to breath too deeply, you resolve to give her exactly what she deserves after this. A big smelly hug. Let's see the look on her face then!

The memory fades..
wrote:Sight - Viewing Spirit Fire
The interior of a cluttered tent canbarely be made out in the gloom as the memory begins. The smoky threads of incense mix with the smell of leather, giving the room a musty, crypt-like scent. Something about it has the feeling of safety and home. Something whispers in your ears, a dozen voices just beyond hearing, as you settle back on a small uneven stool.

You slowly open your mind to something beyond your normal senses.

Slowly small glows begin to flicker into to view. Little flames of color, resting on candles and floating about the room. Spirits. In the cages some of the disembodied flames are gathered together to play radiant shows of light across the sides of the tent. The tent is bathed in a kaleidoscope of otherworldly colors, casting long and eerie shadows on everything below.

Greenish blues and orange seem the most common but you have searched long to gather others for such a beautiful collection. Your gaze is drawn to one cage in particular, a dark purple and black fire that writhes in it's confines. The smaller, brighter lights seem to shy away from it. The Prize of your collection. You cannot recall where it came from or how..but it is certainly the rarest.

A twinge of sadness touches you briefly. The recollection that one day you must release them all when they are ready to move on. For now you content yourself to watching.

The memory fades fade on a feeling of comfort and dancing color.
*DigitalDragoon
Posts: 212
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *DigitalDragoon »


wrote:The Fabulous Modrone
This is a sensation regarding a rather peculiar vision sensation. You can see a Monodrone, donning a pair of fancy boots on the ends of its spindly mechanical legs, strut about in front of the fire-pit in the bazaar. A fancy cloak flutters behind it while several bystanders watch. The whole quirky spectacle leaves a feeling of delight and amusement.
*DigitalDragoon
Posts: 212
Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am

Posted by *DigitalDragoon »


The placement of this particular sensory stone is left to the discretion of society higher ups, though it is requested to be placed in the public sensorium with a warning for more sensitive viewers if deemed safe to display. The old mage to whom it belongs is seems moderately jumpy for a day or so following the recording.
wrote:Horror in the Hive
The overwhelmingly sickening scent of blood and death hit you before your eyes even have the chance to adjust to the dim light of the rundown infirmary.

You feel your senses open up briefly to something beyond your normal view. The effort is met with a painfully dazzling display of color that shatters your focus and immediately plunges you back into the the dark room.

Blinking away lingering motes, the scene begins to unfold in earnest. Overturned furniture,  mangled corpses and severed limbs litter the room. Blood is slathered everywhere and gathers in pools on the floor. You quickly find yourself making your way to the nearest body, channeling and trying to see if only you can call back one of these unfortunate souls back before they truly depart.

There is a flutter of motion as those you arrived with with begin to fan out and search for survivors. Their words barely register. Working your way desperately through one room and then another trying to bring someone, anyone back. A deep seated dread crawls through you gut as each failure.

Faces of Men.
Of Women.
Even children.
Each one, in disturbing detail, lingers in your mind as channeling turns to prayers and the horror of it threatens to overwhelm. Another memory begins to bleed through and breath comes in short gasps. The phantom scent of fire rising and the sound of shouting..

A sharp pain across one shin jars your senses back into focus with a sudden start.

You seem to have slipped while ascending the stairs. A creek of blood trickles down the steps from above making for slick footing. Stomach turning at the thought of what might be up there, the climb resumes.

A number of people clutter the hallway leading to a door. The floor is literally lined with remains of dozens and blood runs across the floor in a thick red streak. The room begins to spin even as you stoop to try bringing back any of the victims up here.

There are banging sounds and arguing as your companions manage to bust the door open. Images of another time and place begin to bleed into the sensation once and it becomes hard to breath. You barely feel your head smack back against the wall. Sinking....sinking...Everything blurs together. Men in armor and the sounds of fighting. A woman in blue consoling a man red. A spear striking through the heart of someone you are trying to tend. Mangled bodies and blood soaking into floor boards. Blood glistening on cobblestone.

You feel your heart seize a moment before everything goes black, jarring you out of the memory.
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