missrecalled_mods: (Auradon Welcome)
[personal profile] missrecalled_mods posting in [community profile] kingdoms_of_auradon
It began with flowers. Now, flowers were nothing new to Auradon, but these were clearly no ordinary flowers. For one thing, they were distinctly not native to the area, looking much more like they hailed from somewhere far more tropical, though even should anyone- Missrecalled or local- be familiar with such things, they wouldn't be able to identify what species they were or exactly where they might be from. For another, rather than growing over time, they'd all just simply appeared overnight. And they'd appeared everywhere. From outdoor spaces where one would usually find flowers, to all sorts of places indoors where one normally wouldn't find them. Draped in living garlands around the shoulders of suits of armor. Twining around the legs of tables and chairs. Literally sprouting right out of the woodwork or wallpaper in places. 

Avoiding them entirely would be difficult, though doable if one were particularly determined. Fortunately, aside from their mysterious appearance and their sudden ubiquitousness they seem to be harmless. They even smell nice, though no two people will be able to agree on exactly what the smell is like, just that it's pleasant.

However some of the flowers will randomly cause something odd to occur. Touching one, or breathing in too deeply from one of the random flowers will draw forth a memory for all nearby to see and hear. Only one memory will display at a time, and anyone in the area can see and hear it, but only those close enough to have caught the scent of that particular flower will get the full effect. They'll see the figures and setting as solid, and may experience subtle additional effects related to the memory, such as the feeling of a breeze or the smell of cooking food. Anyone else will see and hear everything fine, but will not experience any additional sensations and will see the scene as somewhat transparent. The figures aren't solid, they just seem like that to anyone who was close enough to smell the flower when it triggered.

The memory, oddly enough, will not be from the perspective of the one it belongs to; they and their companion or companions will be observing from a third party perspective, thus allowing a person to see their own face in the memories without the aid of a mirror. Nor can the memories be interacted with; those viewing them are observers only, and while they'll be able to hear the figures in the memory and each other speaking, no one in the memories will be able to hear or perceive them in any way. The memories vary in content and tone from person to person, for obvious reasons, but a common thread will soon be spotted: all the memories involve the person's mother or similar maternal figure. Generally they are more likely to be positive memories, if such memories exist. 

Once the memory fades that flower looses its ability and becomes just like any other flower in this event. However another flower nearby might have been activated...

Picking one of the flowers and taking it back to their rooms- which are one of the few places that remain entirely flower-free, for some reason- will result in the person having vivid dreams of their mothers or maternal figures. Again, while the content of those dreams will vary widely for obvious reasons, in Auradon, the tone will be generally positive. Perhaps bright and cheerful, perhaps nostalgic and somewhat melancholy, but the dreams will be generally good ones, and those who have them will wake feeling generally refreshed and like they slept well. The dreams are just that, dreams. Even those with no memories of their mothers can have these dreams - but in the drams they will have a mother, and the dream will center around that maternal figure one way or another. Again, these are dreams and our minds can create the sweetest fantasies when so inspired. These dreams will linger one day past the event for every day the flowers had been kept in the bedroom. Also, oddly, of the flowers people pick will show no signs of wilting or drying out, even days after being picked no matter where they're left.

Then, after a week, all the flowers- whether picked or left alone - vanish overnight, just as suddenly as they appeared. A strange phenomenon, to be sure, but once it's over, other concerns will likely take precedence once again. After all, something like that couldn't possibly happen again, right? 

Date: 2024-01-04 10:53 am (UTC)
mal_contented: (Distraught)
From: [personal profile] mal_contented
"I'm keeping myself safe!" she snapped, then shook her head. "But clearly you wouldn't understand!" She turned, once again, to attempt to stalk off.

Date: 2024-01-04 10:57 am (UTC)
queen_butterfly: a pretty, pale girl with black hair, dark makeup, pointed ears, and large dark eyes (that hurts)
From: [personal profile] queen_butterfly
"If I've done something to make you think I would, I apologize," she said, not going to stop her. "That isn't my intent. But my offer will stand."

She reached back down to the flowers to brush her hand over another cluster of them once more....

Date: 2024-01-04 11:14 am (UTC)
mal_contented: (NO!)
From: [personal profile] mal_contented
She turned to snap back, but caught just the wrong flower.

Mal was in a room that was clearly on the Isle from the ramshackle quality of the broken down furnishings and the artfully patched outfits Mal was choosing between.

Maleficent stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed watching for a moment before making herself none, fingers idling on the doorframe, her other hand on one hip, a scowl on her face. "Where on this dreadful island could you possibly be going?"

"To a party," Mal said, holding up a torn pair of jeans, considering them. She was a year or two younger in the memory.

Maleficent let out an exasperated sigh. "Mal, what have I told you about parties?"

"I'm not going to have fun, mother," Mal assured her. I'm going so I can make someone miserable."

A small cruel smile set the older woman's lips. "So you're off to make someone miserable," she cooed.

"Wretched, really," Mal assured her, setting down the clothes.

The smile finished growing on Maleficent's face. She crossed the room to Mal and traced a sharp nail down the girl's face, leaving a thin line despite not breaking skin. "That's a nasty little girl," she said, sounded almost pleased.


The memory faded and Mal scowled at where her mother had stood, fighting tears once more.

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