I doubt you've anything to worry about. So far I haven't heard of a single case of somebody picking up a shard and receiving someone else's memory. Our own, yes, and our familiars can trigger them, but nobody should be able to pick up one of yours from the street.
Yeah, but what if I stumble into the same one again, and get stuck with that memory showing to even more peo--
[ He doesn't manage to finish because, as he's talking, he leans back and props his arm against the ground, forgetting that...there's quite a few shards around, and he's just touched one. So instead, they're thrown into a memory. (12:52 - 15:05)
It's a strange thing, to be in the middle of what feels like a routine Providence fight--protect the innocents from the big bad jerk EVO--but know that you have such a personal stake in it. It doesn't feel like it. It's foreign to you, but still carries a weight, a finality of sorts, to it.
The petty squabbles, the tower--those mean nothing, really. But the small ragtag group's freedom...this is closure. For them, and perhaps in a strange sense, you as well.
You defend them, offer your protection, because they deserve it and you can, even if it's not technically what you're supposed to do. And maybe, it's even a way to make amends for disappearing on them and forgetting them.
Then Quarry says those words, "it was Rex who gave you to me in the first place," and everything tilts on its axis.
He holds up the journal, the one you just found out about the other day. You demand it back--partially because he shouldn't have it on principle, and partially because...well, this is the closest you've ever come to understanding yourself. It's the only link there is to who you were before, where you came from, the only link to understanding a you who is so similar and yet so foreign. A look into a mirror and finally being able to understand what you're seeing.
As Quarry hits play, though, your stomach sinks. You hope for a second that this is a setup, that Quarry somehow framed him all those years ago and is now springing the trap, but you know it's not. Because you do remember--not entirely, but in flashes.
Meeting these other lost street rats and forming a group. Running around Hong Kong worry-free for the first time, knowing you have backup. Orchestrating robberies to feed yourselves, protect yourselves, find shelter. Striking a deal with Quarry to feed him information in exchange for extra protection and more cash. Maybe even enough cash to finally be secure, pull yourself out of the streets for good. And if the other street rats are collateral, then...that's on them, for not having the ruthlessness that's needed to make it out here.
You hadn't considered that when you finally got a look at yourself in the mirror, you might not like what you see.
Tuk decks you to the floor and you try to reassure them, that's not you! And in a sense, it isn't--you thought you'd understand yourself better by learning about your past, but you find that you can't understand what you did here years ago, it doesn't make sense, how can you possibly answer for the crimes of some other cruel kid who wore your face once upon a time, who you are now just wants to give them a way out--
That doesn't help, though, because they don't understand either, not anymore.
no subject
no subject
Still...now I feel like I shoulda been collecting them all along! No way am I gonna find all the ones that triggered my memories again.
no subject
I doubt you've anything to worry about. So far I haven't heard of a single case of somebody picking up a shard and receiving someone else's memory. Our own, yes, and our familiars can trigger them, but nobody should be able to pick up one of yours from the street.
no subject
[ He doesn't manage to finish because, as he's talking, he leans back and props his arm against the ground, forgetting that...there's quite a few shards around, and he's just touched one. So instead, they're thrown into a memory. (12:52 - 15:05)
It's a strange thing, to be in the middle of what feels like a routine Providence fight--protect the innocents from the big bad jerk EVO--but know that you have such a personal stake in it. It doesn't feel like it. It's foreign to you, but still carries a weight, a finality of sorts, to it.
The petty squabbles, the tower--those mean nothing, really. But the small ragtag group's freedom...this is closure. For them, and perhaps in a strange sense, you as well.
You defend them, offer your protection, because they deserve it and you can, even if it's not technically what you're supposed to do. And maybe, it's even a way to make amends for disappearing on them and forgetting them.
Then Quarry says those words, "it was Rex who gave you to me in the first place," and everything tilts on its axis.
He holds up the journal, the one you just found out about the other day. You demand it back--partially because he shouldn't have it on principle, and partially because...well, this is the closest you've ever come to understanding yourself. It's the only link there is to who you were before, where you came from, the only link to understanding a you who is so similar and yet so foreign. A look into a mirror and finally being able to understand what you're seeing.
As Quarry hits play, though, your stomach sinks. You hope for a second that this is a setup, that Quarry somehow framed him all those years ago and is now springing the trap, but you know it's not. Because you do remember--not entirely, but in flashes.
Meeting these other lost street rats and forming a group. Running around Hong Kong worry-free for the first time, knowing you have backup. Orchestrating robberies to feed yourselves, protect yourselves, find shelter. Striking a deal with Quarry to feed him information in exchange for extra protection and more cash. Maybe even enough cash to finally be secure, pull yourself out of the streets for good. And if the other street rats are collateral, then...that's on them, for not having the ruthlessness that's needed to make it out here.
You hadn't considered that when you finally got a look at yourself in the mirror, you might not like what you see.
Tuk decks you to the floor and you try to reassure them, that's not you! And in a sense, it isn't--you thought you'd understand yourself better by learning about your past, but you find that you can't understand what you did here years ago, it doesn't make sense, how can you possibly answer for the crimes of some other cruel kid who wore your face once upon a time, who you are now just wants to give them a way out--
That doesn't help, though, because they don't understand either, not anymore.
"At least we know who he is."
They walk away, and you don't try to follow. ]