#there's actually a speck of explanation for this connection in Tell Me's Secret Ending

[beastenraged]

Dream like a Memory

Another POV of this by @hallowed-nebulae. Tempests verse is theirs, while Tell Me verse is my playpen. :)

Even is not a man that enjoys the pangs of sympathy that strike at his Heart here and there. It makes things for difficult for him, especially when those pangs are attached to individuals particularly not keen on sympathy from him. 

However. 

There is someone sniffling in some dusty corner of the castle. A sound that might be tugging at his heartstrings. Slightly. 

“Are you alright?”

That skin and hair...Even has his theories on who exactly this child is. Especially considering that the other two are already variations on others he’s met before, however briefly. 

But that doesn’t matter. He, they, aren’t the same as the man Even once knew and followed after. Anymore than Ruse is Riku or Xion Sora. 

No answer. He tries again. 

“Are you alright? What are you doing down here?”

This time Even kind of gets an answer? The child blinks at him like a lazy cat. Somewhat aware. “M tired. And lonely.”

That’s as good of an answer as any, he supposes. Where are their companions?

He reaches out, pulls the child onto their feet. They follow, a puppet on tangled strings. 

“May I...pick you up?” Even asks, feeling...well. He has no idea what he feels. 

The child considers it, before eventually nodding. Once they do, he carefully lifts them up in his arms to walk briskly down the hall. To the lab, where he has a cot. For reasons. 

For some odd and surprising reason, Ruse is on the cot in his lab when Even gets there.  A place she usually avoids. But isn’t for some reason. 

“I screwed up so bad,” Ruse moans, squishing her face into the pillow. “I should have known better, of course they wouldn’t be fine, Ven probably already hates me since I said that thing about Terra and-”

Not to cut into this pity party. But. 

“Ruse,” Even enunciates clearly. “I need you to get off the bed.”

She pauses. “Ah, right. You’re here, because this is your space. And you need it. Yes.”

Then she rolls off to make space. Even ignores the quiet thud and ‘ow’ that comes from her hitting the ground, electing to instead to place the child on the bed.  

Said child curls up into a ball. Reminding him of Ienzo, on the poorer days. A pity Mirage no longer exists as a comforting stuffed animal to use. 

“What can I do?” Even muses. The child is muttering something. He leans a little closer to catch exactly what. 

The answer isn’t exactly enlightening. “Chirithy?”

“Chirithy’s a kind of Dream Eater.” Ruse nervously taps her chin from where she lays on the floor, looking up at him. “Maybe I could help? Somehow?”

“How so?” Even asks, with a speck of curiosity. “Due to your own connection with Dreams, I suppose?”

She pauses. Again. Tilting her head. “Well, sort of. I’ll try.”

Her scarred hand reaches. Hesitates. “But maybe I shouldn’t. Since this is probably my fault too...”

“Is there any way, in any shape or form, for you to explain exactly what you did, to drive our guests away?” Even asks in an acid tone. 

“I asked a friend of mine to come by, to help get them home,” Ruse explains, “But that friend...isn’t someone they like very much where they come from.”

...how short-sighted of her. But Even finds himself almost relieved that what’s this is, a mistake made from the common thought-faults of most teenagers. Normal. 

“If this is a result of a mistake, fix what you can of it.” 

(Even if it’s all you can do. Even if too much is broken.)

“Okay.” Ruse nods. “You’re not...that’s not bad advice.” 

Even frowns. “I always have good advice.”

“Okay, okay! I’m doing it!” Once her hands touch (by the child, not directly on them), she immediately starts to hum. Something soothing, unfamiliar.  

Somehow, the tune seems to be calming the child down, luring them to a gentle slumber. 

Everything Ruse sings has a name. So. “What is this called?”

She stops mid-hum. “Oh. It’s home. It’s Daybreak Town.”

[lilly2ac]

Pearl Blight: The truth about my life

I realize I have not yet spoken about what brought me here as a narrator. I have a habit of talking a lot, telling people a lot about myself while simultaneously staying secretive. The multiverse is vast, and I am just a speck within it.

My name is Pearl Blight. I am 18 years old. My birthday is February 4th. I wish to be a writer when I grow up. I hate swearing. I see myself as ignorant because I am unable to detect moods. I feel the CMY color wheel is superior to the RGB color wheel. I tend to be social and outgoing. I have a habit of putting the blame on myself. I have a habit of going into tangents. I have insomnia. I identify as pansexual. I feel closer to Gal than any of the other people I work with. I am a narrator.

I will not pretend to be someone who is bright and bubbly on the outside with a dark secret eating away at them on the inside, I do not have a dark side of myself. I have a sad history that I have been trying to move on from. I do not wish to return home, however, I feel the story of my home needs to be told.

I was born to a Jaden and Silver Blight on February 4th, 2002. I had a happy childhood. My mother was in the army and was away constantly once I was around 6, however, I was close to my father. I would write stories or plays for him. We would go on walks in the evening together and just talk about whatever we felt like.

I still loved my mother, and the three of us would always do fun things together when she visited. I remember back when I didn’t really comprehend what my mother’s job actually entailed, I would write silly stories about her fighting a dragon or saving the world from aliens, and she would always listen.

Around the age of ten, my father started having a friend over, someone he had known since college by the name of Lojilee. They would hang out in the living room together, have a few drinks, and talk about life, their jobs, and things bothering them. It was never taken further than that. I used to write about her as well, portraying her as this evil scientist. I do not know why I thought of her that way even back then, however, I clearly knew what was wrong.

Then, things started to change when I was thirteen. One day, I woke up and walked downstairs, my dad on the phone, frantically talking about a huge storm approaching and moving with Lojilee to keep us safe. He told us to pack what was necessary and that we would be leaving soon. We were gone within an hour.

We moved into this bigger house, with many people I had never seen before. There were a few people around my age, some a bit older and some a bit younger. We all got to know each other pretty quickly and would play games to pass the time.

A few days after we left, there was news about changes in temperature across the earth, fires breaking out, and a report that the radioactivity from the sun was now considered deadly. I remember I stepped outside for a moment and the smell of smoke was unbearable. Luckily, the house was well ventilated.

The heat wave followed with rain. Once the rain started, Lojilee knew what to expect. They patched in the windows and doors on the first and second floor to make sure no liquid would get in, and yet still had all of us move to the second floor to be safe.

The rain continued for about a week before finally stopping. There was about 20 foot flood. At this point, it was considered an end of the world event and there was no contact with the outside world. By the end of it, we had all retreated to the third floor to stay safe, even though the house managed to stay stable. We also managed to save a few more people who were stranded by the flood, helping them get in before the sun could kill them.

About two weeks after the flood, the water was down to a bearable amount, and the ground started to shake. There had been multiple earthquakes in the area, massive ground-splitting earthquakes. It was a miracle that none of them hit our shelter, I don’t know what would’ve happened if they did.

There were multiple earthquakes spanning over a week, then a windstorm hit. It started out with large, hundred mile per hour winds, followed by tornadoes. At this point, I had no idea how this house was still standing. It was as if it was designed for this tragedy.

After the hurricanes, there was nothing. It seemed as if it was all over. In fact, even the temperatures began to stabilize themselves. After it went quiet, no one looked outside for what seemed like a month. During that time, we kept ourselves safe and busy. By the time I decided to leave the house, it had been three months since we had moved in.

I decided one day early in the morning to step outside. I decided to see what the world had become, however, I was shocked by what I saw.

Most of the houses had been destroyed in the storm, and there were trees, flowers, and other flora where they had been. I expected to see nothing, but instead, it was as if our house had been teleported to a forest, untouched by anyone within the last century. What was even more odd was that it seemed like there were orbs of light everywhere, adding to this beauty created by the destruction of our world.

Losing all sense of fear, I walked around what had once been a small suburban neighborhood on the nicer side of our small town. I started following one of the orbs of light that appeared, feeling a familiar warmth of it. I was reminded of my mother...

I wondered what she was doing. By the time we left, she had only been gone for a month. Dad said once it was over, we’d likely be reunited, and that mom was going to help others escape the tragedy. I hoped she was ok wherever she was...

I returned to the house, not telling anyone what I saw. It seemed the worst was over.

About a month after that incident, we had all officially left the house for the first time.

After two months, we received contact with the outside world.

After six months, the official percentage of deaths was released. It was announced that 80 percent of the population had perished.

And one year after the incident, we learned my mother had not survived...

The people within our house had started to rebuild as a small community. Thirty seven of us had been sharing one home for months. I don’t think any of us kids had questioned the circumstances at the time, however, it started to become clear that Lojilee knew this event would happen and had prepared to keep as many of us safe as possible. It was lucky that my dad knew him.

We had all worked together to build a small community where our town once stood. We were rebuilding from scratch, surprisingly managing to stay stable, however, tragedy struck.

Seven of the people had fallen ill, my father being one of them. No one seemed to know what it was. First, they stated they started to feel warm. Then, their hair and eyes started to change, with no pattern or explanation. Soon after that, they started acting aggressive. They had to be separated because they were attacking people. I was not allowed to see them.

It was soon after that that Lojilee started acting odd. She was not ill, she had just succumbed to madness. It was odd to watch, seeing how we were more free than ever now, we were no longer trapped in that shelter, we were in the process of rebuilding our own town, creating a new community.

She acted cruel, vindictive, and unfortunately, I was her victim, her guinea pig, she had me working for her as a lab rat, purring myself in risky situations so that she could try to learn more about this virus and how it could have connected to the apocalypse.

She switched to blackmail, and would use my own father against me, saying he wouldn’t be cured unless I continued to help her. This continued for about three years, until my father couldn’t take it anymore, and ended his life.

In my time with her, we learned about the existence of the multiverse, and she learned how to leave our universe. I had decided I had enough, and a month after the death of my father, I left.

I decided to hide in the doodle sphere for about a month after that, polishing my writing skills in the hope of finding a place where I could make it as an author. I learned about narration, an amateur job for those over 18 where you would follow the playable characters of the Creatortale AU and write about their life. I applied, got the job, and was assigned to narrate Tier, Creatortale’s Frisk.

I am so happy to have gotten this opportunity. I am happy to have started over my life a second time. I wish the best to the residents of my old AU, however, I do not wish to return.

I told this story so that you could gain a better understanding of what my life has been like. I want there to be a record, within Creatortale, of my story, and the story of the tragedy that struck my AU. And if have taken the time to read this, thank you. I am thankful to be able to share this story with you, and I hope you have found some meaning behind it.