☘ 010; [action; 50% event]

[riastrad_ridire]

['Something is wrong' was not the right phrase for this, and Lancer knew it. This was more than simply 'something wrong'. This was reality as he knew it tearing itself apart. He knew who he was--of course, how could he not? Lancer was always sure of himself if not of anything else. But what was going on, why was he remembering things he knew he shouldn't have remembered? Why were the things he knew to be fact feeling more and more like lies and false memories?]

'I was born and raised in Muirthemne Plain. Ulster is the only place I've ever called home.'

'What? No, I've lived in quiet, peaceful Mayfield my whole life.'

[Both thoughts were fact in his mind. But that wasn't possible, of course not. How could someone have lived an entire lifetime in two different locations? One had to be true and the other a lie.]

'...can't be. Is this what happened to Bazett, is this what I couldn't stop?!'

'What am I talking about? Nothing happened, she's still living in the same house as always.'

[Lancer didn't remember what his initial droning had been like, and so in the brief moments of lucidity--_{which one's lucid, I'm not sure anymore}--he felt something remarkably similar to apprehension and concern. Was this what it was like to fear something? He honestly wouldn't have known.]

'This is wrong. This isn't home and that's not my family.'

'Of course it is, they always have been. Why am I questioning it?'

[Lancer ground his teeth together in frustration, shutting his eyes and concentrating the best that he could. One of these had to be right. He knew which one was the truth, but why was the other so persistent?! One hand went to his head, the other arm wrapped around a pair of notebooks; one blue and one gray. Why had he made a point of picking those up when these fake memories started pouring in?]

[...and which memories were even the fake ones?]

[A; action; park]

[Lancer was out of it, to say the very least. But he knew he spent most of his time at the park, and somehow he'd wound up there today. He was sitting under a tree with the same pair of notebooks lying closed on the ground beside him. To say he might have looked troubled would be putting it lightly; he was pale, clearly unsettled, and speaking to himself under his breath.]

My name is Setanta mac Sualtam. Cu Chulainn. Servant Lancer. My mother's name was Dechtire, my father by blood Lugh Lámhfhada. My wife's name was-...it's...

[Those...were the right names, weren't they? Why had he faltered like that? He knew his wife's name as well as he knew his own, so why stop so abruptly as if there was any question about it? Lancer raised a hand to his head, an unusually blatant look of worry on his face. It wasn't that he'd forgotten, he knew the answer. But no matter what name he finished that sentence with, it would surely sound incorrect somehow. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he finish that sentence?]

Comments

[brotherseyes.livejournal.com]

Lancer!

[It was the look on his face that drew her over, even before the familiar sight of him did. It wasn't like him to look that way, so...unsure. So conflicted.

Please, please don't let the town have gotten to him too.]

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

[Lancer. Lancer. What the hell kind of a name was--]

[--no, he was supposed to answer to that. Where'd he even get a name like that? And who was he talking to?]

'Nina-'

'Anna-'

...I...what is it?

[At least his voice was steadier than his thoughts, considering the disoriented look on his face. Though the question could have been anything from 'what do you want' to 'what's going on here and what's wrong with me'.]

[brotherseyes.livejournal.com]

You don't look very well.

[Without waiting to be invited, she sits beside him.]

It's doing it to you too, isn't it?

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

I'm not the only one?

[No, that made sense. Mayfield did stuff like this, didn't it? Why did he remember his hometown doing such weird things?]

[...hometown? No. No, this wasn't even the right country for that.]

An-Nina, I...don't know what's going on. I've always lived here, but...but I know I haven't.

[gandere]

[ ♪♪♪ ]

Mister Chulainn? [ Even though she wore her familiar ribbons within her hair, this magus was back to the normal long skirt and shirt of a 1950's teenager, dressed in red, white, and blue for the holidays. ]

You look troubled. Are you looking for something in those notebooks?

THAT MUSIC WHY WOULD YOU /EVER/

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

I-

'The hell'd she just call me? Don't tell me she's getting it too--'

'...huh, I think I've seen her somewhere before. Can't remember her name, though.'

...I don't actually...know. I can't read whatever's written in them.

[Why did he distinctly feel like that was fundamentally wrong? It was some foreign language he didn't understand, and yet it was as if he'd been looking at something he'd forgotten a long time ago.]

IT IS CALLED TRAPPED THOUGHTS IT IS SO FITTING??

[gandere]

[ Straightening up, she is torn between offering to help and ignoring her neighbor. The citizens of Mayfield have always prided themselves on being outstanding and kind to their fellow neighbors...

... but it was also summer and Rin Warren didn't want to spend this beautiful day reading a bunch of notebooks. Holding out a hand though, she'll give a nod. ]

I'll take a look at one of them then, Mister Chulainn. This must have been more important than coming by to clean our garage. I don't think my father was too thrilled with you coming by today however. Work is important, yes, but this is one of the greatest holidays for our lovely town.

[ Huh? Looking him over, she gives a disapproving frown. ]

Why isn't your family here at the park with you?

/CRIES FOREVER

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

...no, it's-... Don't worry about it.

['I will accept your oath under the name of Lancer'--it was a thought that came out of nowhere, with no context behind it save for the faint yet persistent sense of some kind of attachment.]

Does anything...feel a little off to you today?

A

[murderpuppy.livejournal.com]

[There is a Connla in the tree above you, Lancer.]

Her name was Emer, daughter of Forgall Monach. Do you forget the name of your wife so quickly, Cu Chulainn?

[He had weird memories, too-- ones of growing up with his family in Mayfield, but they felt foreign, like they had been planted there. It wasn't right and he knew that they were false, but sometimes... sometimes they seemed real as his own memories.]

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

O...of course not. I knew that.

[And that was Connla, Rin's brother. ...wasn't he? No, that wasn't right. He knew it wasn't right, so why did he think it was?]

[murderpuppy.livejournal.com]

You don't sound very sure.

Do you remember who I am, prince of light?

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

'I always hated that title. Made me sound like an idiot. Didn't think anyone but Diarmuid would use it, though-'

'--no. No, this isn't right. Why is he calling me that, it sounds ridiculous.'

I...should, shouldn't I? You're important, someone I said...I swore I'd never forget. But you can't be, I barely even know you. So I remember you, but I don't know how much I'm supposed to remember about you.

...I don't know what's wrong with me.

[uberchickmagnet.livejournal.com]

[Unbeknownst to Diarmuid, he had no idea what was going on at the time. If anything, he hardly payed little attention about today, as he was concentrating on his bartending like always.

However, upon passing Lancer, there...was something not quite right. He didn't know what, but a look of concern adorned his face as he approached his blue-haired idol.]

Is something the matter, my good fellowman?

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

Wh-

[Diarmuid. He'd know which was the right set of memories, wouldn't he? But could Lancer really trust his word? What if he was just as wrong as wherever the false set of memories were coming from?]

I...something's wrong. I can't--I know that like I've lived here my whole life, but there's another part of me saying I'm wrong and that I...that there's something else.

..Diarmuid, who exactly am I? You know that much, right?

[uberchickmagnet.livejournal.com]

[The Fianna knight raised a brow.]

You are the Prince of Light, Cu Chulainn, the greatest hero of our country, Ireland.

[A simple enough answer that should've sufficed. But, he had a feeling that it wasn't going to be so easy.]

...has something happened to you, Cu Chulainn?

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

...I don't know. Something--stupid town has to be doing something to me.

[He remembered Ireland, sure. Remembered his parents, his comrades, the one friend he'd ever had--and at the same time he remembered a completely parallel life in Mayfield. His family,something Lancer knew should have been a foreign concept to him and yet it wasn't.]

[Scowling, Lancer pressed his hands to his head and shut his eyes tightly. He had to focus, he knew Diarmuid was right and yet at the same time believed he must have been wrong.]

I can't--I can't forget. I can't, I--this isn't right, I never lived here.

Action, 25%

[imaginenumbers.livejournal.com]

*Sakura only has to take one glance at that face. She drops her groceries and runs over to him.*

L-Lancer?!

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

[Servant Lancer. Lancer. He was supposed to answer to that. It took a moment or two for that fact to connect before he finally looked up. This was...wait, who was she again? Rin's sister--no, was that right? Couldn't have been, but he wanted to say that was the case.]

...Sakura?

[imaginenumbers.livejournal.com]

Yes, that's me.

Um...

*She kneels down in front of Lancer. He's still huge and intimidating but it seems like he needs help right now.*

What's the matter? Why are you muttering to yourself like that?

[ Action ] - The Park (Have 100% droned Souji)

[inababanchou.livejournal.com]

Hey Lancer.

[ A familiar voice calls out, walking up to him. ]

It's Independence Day. I got some fireworks.

fffuuuu souji you're enough of a troll when you're normal

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

...What?

[Oh goddamn he was getting such a headache.]

:3c

[inababanchou.livejournal.com]

Fireworks.

[ He has a paper bag in his hands with assorted fireworks inside. He gives the bag a soft rustle. ]

Want to blow some up

A - 100% droned

[fated_blade]

[Walking by in full '50s get up; hair, dress, makeup, and all. She's been completely absorbed by the town]

...Hm? Oh! Mr. Cu, is something the matter?

Re: A - 100% droned

[riastrad-ridire.livejournal.com]

...oh shit, not you too.

[But this...this was normal. Of course it was normal. So why did he feel so confused about this?]

[fated_blade]

Me too? I am feeling quite fine, Mr. Cu, so I am not sure what you mean.