Meridian
local liminal entity
- Location
- The Casca Region
- Pronouns
- any/all
The Scrapbook
Within it's pages are memories and spaces where your psyche is organized.
Three (3) Longterm Memories are accessible to you with ease, and are anchored within the scrapbook.
"That [Pond] was like a level in a certain videogame..."
Your window into the memory shows a wetlands pond surrounded by banks of reeds within a forest.There looks to be something else than yourself within this memory, and the filter that's always present brings back nostalgia for a game series you can't place the name of.. but you do know like with a cognion you needed a 'starter' to travel.
"That was my first time volunteering for a convention..."
It's one of the slow moments during a volunteering shift at the convention you were attending, so you take a break in the back room for staffers and volunteers. Crates sit full with backup supplies as the days of the convention stretch onwards.Something happened to the memory at some point when you fell... as the door doesnt lead to anything but a starry and infinite void. Something about it makes the memory feel slightly less stable.
"Take to the tunnels when the stars fall upon you..."
That's how the hymnal begins.. and so it came to pass.No matter the direction you turn a hunch backs it: You could walk infinitely in that tunnel, couldn't you?
How long does a pilgrimage in refuge last if there is no destination to be had?
As soon as you recalled yourself another page was able to turn and depict two pages of memories..
"A gift in every hollow"
Its a transient moment as any on the surface ends up being. So many creches to find a trinket within, so many to keep track of what you owe to where.Two different individuals left their markers visibly within this snapshot, and a long-faded sign stands watch over the cache.
"Hoping for a view below?" "Either's fine, really."
Only so many dedicate themselves to actually visiting the cities. The passages wind and twist so narrowly that its understandable.You'd moved into a new place, and the communal courtyard was one that gazed up at the depthscraper chamber's ceiling.
A neighbor expected you were the sort to prefer a gaze corewards.. and while you weren't opposed you knew enough tales of slipping through the open air ports and having to spend too long transiting back home.. and both a glass ceiling and a glass floor alike are... stifling to say the least.
It would be an easy place to take your breaks and gaze at the cavern lights.
"-your furred sona?" "No defense ; I admire greatly"
It was the call that made you laugh in response not to deflect but make acknowledgement of what they'd said. You shared with your mentor why you admire them. Wonderment at how beasts like what you'd made dash through the forests above, and what it might be like.It earned some playful responses.. as you could surely chase and run down most of those beasts.
Their shape was different, and they moved differently as such.
Of course you can live with the differences, but your creation is your metamorphosis, it is your joyous becoming in the vein you can have.
You linger almost too long in this one. It is the workshop you undertook your apprenticeship within, and the one where you created your instrument.
"The view from up here is amazing"
You'd heard it from one of the others gathered on that venue's rooftop.Roof access wasn't unheard of, but it was a good evening to view the cavern lights. In this fashion you could look out upon the depthscraper network and see the support structures throughout your cavern's cell, tracing the superstructure into the ceiling above, and seeing all the twinkling lights of others living their lives as they would you.
It was your standard music venue in this strata of the depthscraper city you'd come to call home, and you were there for a show by some aggressive synth group you'd come to enjoy that cycle.
It got to be too much, so you took to the roof to enjoy what break you could take from the crowds. The cavern lights blinking in the distance were a light show of their own.
"Supposedly it goes back a lot further"
You'd come across an abandoned store. It seemed fresh, but you'd heard talk of a much older one than you had initially thought.A quick check showed that it was the same store as you'd heard.
Just like you'd heard a decoration somewhere in it's depths was still being set off now and again by motion.. or maybe it was just always like that?
Other pages stick together and resist your attempts to pry them apart.. else you risk tearing them.
They release their grip on each other as you release your own upon them.
Both covers of the scrapbook's interior have a pouch to keep small objects, and you've stashed your sticky-notes that record past segpocks within them.
At some point you should really organize them onto a page, but it's all the same for now.
The sticky notes so far:
- That Room I Woke Up In? Cramped.
- The tunnel out.. it stretched on for a bit
- The forest path did too, but at least I found that patio space
- The pantry with the broken pots, and the pantry I got a protein bar from
- The daisy field where I met that alien, and the stairwell we hung out in
- That cultural garden is where I started feeling like I couldnt breath right
- It chased us through the mall, I thought I'd collapse
- After the bell rang out I took an emergency exit into an alleyway of hedges
The only other thing you can think of is the enchanted page.. it doesnt tell you much more than what you already know, but you should get in the habit of checking it. That alien said it was influenced by where you are at the moment.
hm, we dont have an informational threadmark system, so just take these worldbuilding threadmarks as containing both Quest Info, and Setting Info