Stephanie's Heart: The Archive

[reading_rainstorm]

In your dreams you are in a thick and foggy forest. It could be mistaken for the woods around Tributary if you don’t know your plants. You are on a trail leading into a clearing, in the center of which is a simple, concrete structure with a single door. A chaos star has been spray painted on it with a stencil.

You approach the structure. Looking over your shoulder you see a large shape lurking in the fog, obscured by the foliage. Two shining Feline eyes peer at you from the brush. You feel your heart rate spike as you turn the knob and find an old fashioned elevator tucked neatly inside with an accordion grate standing between you and the ornate, gilded interior. It creaks open as the presence behind you steps into the clearing. It is a sphinx, an eight foot tall lioness with the face of a woman and the large brown wings of an eagle on her back . The feminine face and olive skin tone of a Greek woman from antiquity smiles as she readies herself to to pounce, the wings on her back stretching and give a few readying flaps.You back into the elevator and close the gate with shaking hands as the sphinx leaps at the elevator. Her claws twisting and shearing the metal of the grate slowly, but she is too late. The elevator springs to life and you descend.

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A small light above flickers on as it illuminates your view outside the exposed elevator as you sink into the concrete structure. You descend for a few moments before an opening in the concrete gives you the view of an observation deck on a hill, looking down on the sprawling suburbs and campus of a college town. The elevator continues downward. The concrete gives way to old, dusty marble as you continue sinking. You see a vast maze stretch far and away that gets nearer and nearer. This has to be it, right? Your destination? No. You plunge further down, past the walls of the maze and the marble is replaced again by well polished wood. Beautiful stained mahogany rises past you as your descent finally starts to slow. You are greeted by another grate that creaks open for you. Entreating you to enter.

Comments

[maskformask]

Ohh, sweetheart. [makes a little pained noise, trying to gently and carefully extract both Harriet and the card from the gears] It's hard to move past a loss. I know. I know. It sticks in you.

[reading_rainstorm]

You're able to take them from the gears. There's a bittersweet feeling to it. Untangling all this. Once the figure and card are free, it feels like some tension has been relieved. You let out a breath you didn't know you'd been holding in.

[maskformask]

Phew...

[hesitates, looking at harriet, then gently puts her in the box of people who have left. Better than in the gears, and it feels like putting her back up there would just be going against the arrangement here.]

[reading_rainstorm]

Safely where she belongs. It feels good knowing she's safe there. Do you push the moon button again?

[maskformask]

[Yeah, he'll try that again now!]

[reading_rainstorm]

The diorama springs to life, all but a handful of figures go to their respective homes as the light over the diorama changes again to a silvery light shining down on the clearing. The cottages Stephanie has been in open up to show their residents inside, with tiny warm lights illuminating their interiors.

A set of figures gather in the clearing, and a few of the figures you saw in the box: Jhaez, Sharolin, Harriet. A soft song plays from a speaker as the Stephanie figure spins and moves about the clearing, as if performing a dance. Stephanie's voice, though one deeper and raspier than the one you know fills your head.

"Day 4 Cont. Is this too much to hope for? Not only actually doing magic myself but...making My body my own? Or...more my own. I can't dismiss the work my forgotten self has made to make this body livable even if she also made it uncomfortable in stranger ways than garden variety dysphoria. It is hard to believe I have been here for under a week and the people here are already doing so much for me. I hope in due time I am able to repay the favor. I'm being shown wonders beyond belief as though they are common occurrences, I must endeavor to give as much as myself to this community as they have given to me."

[maskformask]

[gently touches the side of the diorama.]

While it's not the same thing, I understand. At some point, the status quo is at least one you have made it comfortable and livable, even if it's not what you really want...

[hesitates, then takes his mask off, hanging it at his belt again.] Then they give you hope. And that hope's frightening too.

This place is a good one. By which I mean, the people have made it that.

[laughs a bit] Look at me. Talking to a diorama.

[reading_rainstorm]

The girl at the end of the hall pipes up

"With the way some of the dioramas work sometimes i think they're alive too.

[maskformask]

[comes over to her, rubbing his chin] Does working with them make it worse or better?

[reading_rainstorm]

Getting closer to her, you can see that like Harmony behind the reference desk, this woman is wooden.

"Worse I'd say. I don't even know why Steph keeps some of them around. She's always been a bit of a packrat though."

[maskformask]

[does this one resemble Stephanie like Harmony, or do they just seem like, well, a visual shorthand for heart npcs?]

Well, sometimes things are important to us even if they're complicated.

[reading_rainstorm]

No, this one looks very different from Harmony. Taking a jab, yeah these are Steph's npcs.

"Even that one?"

She's pointing at the dormitory diorama.

"That shit has rancid vibes."

[maskformask]

Sometimes the most rancid stuff still gives us part of an understanding? But I'll go look.

[he heads over there. He glances the figures over briefly, their pose etc, though he ...avoids looking them in the face]

[reading_rainstorm]

Focusing on the diorama, it seems to gain depth and width Beyond the bounds of its alcove. The first figure is dusty and poorly maintained; he is an anxious looking man with dark hair and glasses staying off to the side, observing with a grimace you have seen on Stephanie's face before. The other figure seems to have been defaced, chunks chopped out of it in places. It holds Stephanie's journal above a fire that looks a lot more real than it did a moment ago. His gaze seems to meet yours with a smug satisfaction. He stands rigid and upright, dressed in well pressed dress shirt and slacks with a stole over his shoulders. The stole has a symbol of eyes with crosses for pupils at its ends. The room is lit with buzzing fluorescent lights, a row of child sized bunks stretch to the end of the room. The bunk behind the men is in disarray, the cot has been removed from its frame and lays on the floor In a heap. Having gotten closer, you notice a third figure: A child probably eight or nine. They are watching in horror at the scene, tearing at the hem of their shirt as tears stream down their face.

[maskformask]

Ah. Yeah. Rancid, I see.

[reaches over to try to take the card out of the journal]

[reading_rainstorm]

The velvet rope drops for you as you attempt to reach across it.

"Ah, letting you in a bit. She must trust you to only break things in ways she likes"

[maskformask]

I like her a lot. I'm really happy she's trusting me, though obviously I don't want to overstep.

[gently leaning over to try to extract that. grimaces. How small is this diorama? Life-size, or miniature?]

[reading_rainstorm]

Life size. You're able to get the card. It's The Emperor.

[maskformask]

[goes to look at the child]

[reading_rainstorm]

It's Stephanie. You can see it in the nose and the ears and the brow. They have bright green eyes. Following their gaze you can tell they are most focused on the other figure. Not the priest, their father.

[maskformask]

[Louis assesses the following things when trying to decide what to do.

1. is there a button
2. is the journal built into the diorama or it can it also be moved
3. are the tears painted on or are they actually moving]

[reading_rainstorm]

1: No button
2: The journal can be removed.
3: They are "Moving" in that stop motion way the npcs are moving. They aren't made of water though.

[maskformask]

[attempts to take the journal and give it to baby Stephanie. Being gentle, though, doesn't want to break anything.]

[reading_rainstorm]

The journal is hand made, and leather bound. There is an owl embossed on the front. You're able to put it in Stephanie's hands and a feeling of a calm and contentment washes over you. The tears stop flowing.

[maskformask]

[softly] Of course there's no way to change the past. But, well, all the things in here are of you. They're still with you, in the end.