IN MEMORIAM

"The dance of the stars, the silent whisper of numbers, the foretelling of cards... Yet, this is just one supplementary tool. To hear one's speech, to venture into their hearts, to glimpse their memories... that's where the most precise truths are revealed."

[anamnemetic]

Talents - Application - Dossier

Black Swan from Honkai Star Rail - aff. w/ Gnostic Hymns - as memorialized by Cecil

About Cecil:

29 - They/Them - Married

Hi! If you know me, you probably know me from TOA—over there, I play Poe, Emma, and Al. I am really curious if people accidentally calling me Poe will carry over to a group where I do not play her. Please I want it to happen just once. Black Swan is my only muse here.

I'm slow sometimes! I have a full-time job, a wife, and a couple of other hobbies. I try not to let it happen too often but it does sometimes take me over a month to reply to a thread. You're welcome to check in about it if you think I've forgotten it and I won't take offense, but it's likely I haven't and it's on my thread tracker.

I am relatively caught up on Honkai Star Rail (I have not played every single side mission but I have played through the main story). I do not play HI3 or Genshin and I don't plan to I'm sorry. Still happy to thread with your muses!! I also don't care about spoilers so don't feel the need to tag them for me.

No noteworthy triggers that I think will come up in this space. Happy to tag basically anything for literally anyone. Just lmk—you can even send me an anon message if it’s more comfortable. No questions asked.

If I’m committing a faux pas or doing something that bothers you, tell me! I promise that I’m chill. Like to think I’m pretty cognizant of the fact that I unknowingly make mistakes sometimes.

I am not specifically here for shipping. I definitely don't mind IC flirting or ship-tease content where not obtrusive, but I am largely not interested in plotting a ship in advance—I much prefer seeing where the dynamic goes naturally. My muse will not develop romantic feelings for yours without your explicit consent, and I would prefer the same from my thread partners. Black Swan is 25, so I will not be engaging in anything of that nature with muses below 20. I am also not interested in sexual nsfw. Sorry!

this is my first time playing a character that anyone knows i am so fucking scared please for the love of god bear with me /lh

[anamnemetic]

maru mori: the heartbreaking simplicity of ordinary things.

Obscure Sorrows 2 — Closed (Also asked by @unfxllenone)

There used to be a well, here.

Black Swan has seen any number of grander societies than the one that she drifts through today, unseen and unheard. She has listened to more influential figures than the humble homemakers who survive here, witnessed firsthand more exciting events. Memokeeper first and foremost has met with greater intrigue, more advanced society, brighter lights and taller buildings and closer skies, if not starrier nights. If it came to the notable, there was stiff competition, even given her relative young age when compared to the vastness of Fuli's remembrance.

And still, when she sees the tell-tale remnants of a circle of stones in long-since settled dirt, the little her awed by even the mundanity of a hearth still recognizes: there used to be a well, here. Long, long ago—long enough that no man left alive knew the full truth of it. They may be able to find out who it belonged to, they might be able to surmise what it was for, how long ago it stood, how important it may have been based on its size, its location, how neatly the stones are arranged and how well it has stood the test of time. But this is hardly even the half of the well. The conversations held around it, the days it overflowed with rain or ran low with drought, the wishes children had made tossing coins into its depths—each of these was as much of a part of the well as each and every drop of water it had ever contained.

And time had drank them up.

Societies made note of great conflicts and concessions, achievements and accomplisments. Rarely did it make note of the littler and equally important things. Memokeepers did not frequently meddle in each others' affairs by necessity—and so until they were collected by the Garden of Recollection, these little things simply did not exist. Locked away in caskets until finally unearthed and opened.

Few would find the point in remembering such a simple thing. Few would even stop to notice it, and fewer still would kneel by it as she does, running fingertips against stone so old it is smoother than a babe's skin, selflessly committing its feel to her memory, self-servingly leaving her own however imperceptible mark upon it. She no longer occupies such a worldly space, and Black Swan does not need to worry about getting dirt in the fine mesh of her stockings, but she wouldn't even if she could. Because even that had its place.

There used to be a well, here—and she would be fortunate to ever know it.

[anamnemetic]

To Be Something Else

A great brand will inevitably have its cheap knock-offs, trying to grab a piece of the pie - or at least a few crumbs - for themselves. Such is the case for SoulGlad, which now faces a rival, SoulJoy, entering the Penaconian market in reality and dream alike. [...]

[anamnemetic]

There is nothing new under the sun.

Imitators were and always would be the standard. What would come to be would always echo what had been, and where gaps were left as something old was lost to time, new forms of the familiar were born like specters of the beloved. Charitably, where there was a gap to fill, man would always find something to fill it. Less so, where those were captivated by another's bright shine, they too would try to capture some piece of that to emulate, like lightning in a bottle. There had always been something fascinating about the lengths individuals were willing to go to secure their own place in the world.

And to her especially, those willing to eschew individuality entirely towards those ends.

Willing to try, at least. Black Swan did wonder sometimes whether any echo could ever be an exact replica of where it came from, and there were no place better than to ponder questions like that than Penacony itself in its current moment. Under the dreamy limelight she watches each individual come and go as she navigates seamlessly from one place to the next; a fish has never so effortlessly made its way upstream as she weaves through crowds turning not a head but the ones she wants to. Because this moment, too, strikes her fancy—the butting of heads between old glory and promising upstarts was a tale as old as time, but never any less interesting.

Even if it were only soda.

(The mundane is sometimes more interesting than the out-of-the-ordinary, isn't it?)

As watchful eyes trace figures, she spots one familiar, special. Where sweet treats and syrups were the indulgences of many—and she too had a fondness for such things from time-to-time—more attractive to her were the fascinating people who often enjoyed them. "If that isn't a familiar face," The woman comments in announcement of her presence only once she is within feet of the other. "Fancy seeing you here, little bug. Are you enjoying yourself?"

@chrysalidembers

[anamnemetic]

The Reach of Destruction

Mission Board: Crystallize Thread associated with the Fiends in Fontaine minigame

[anamnemetic]

Black Swan stands on the edge of Fontaine, memetic arm grasping remains of an antimatter head and crushing it to dust.

In self-defense, of course. Never did she go anywhere in search of a fight of her own, though they did end up finding her on occasion. It came with the territory, she supposed. A memokeeper has any number of reasons to be in any given place at any given time, in times of peace and not. Duty-bound to collect all so that it might be preserved eternal, that they had not been seen in more places was less an indicator of where they had and had not gone, and more where they had and had not chosen to be seen. Every home, in every city, in every world, was worthy of a page in Remembrance's book.

This world, at this time, though, has this memokeeper's specific interest. Her occupation supplemented by her curiosity have her knowing a wealth of things she may not otherwise—scarcely did she even need to tap into that to know of the Antimatter Legion. What surprises her is not that they exist; what surprises her is that they have made it to this world to which few of her accumulated memories can attest. In that, this moment, in this world, would be memorable.

Point two always went without saying.

An odd smattering of individuals, those that have ended up here on the edge of Fontaine tonight. She hadn't needed to get to know them to know that—here, under the evening sky in a land where the Antimatter Legion lurks in every impenetrable shadow, she knows anyone on the prowl is more than a little unusual. The quiet near-whir of Nanook's fiends lingers here, after all. All around, really. Unlikely that anyone here would be able to abscond to safer pastures without a scrape with Destruction.

Black Swan rolls an Event (Roll: 3) Reprieve enjoyed; all muses regain +1 HP (Sparkle 10/10 HP, Blade 10/10 HP, Black Swan 10/10 HP, Alhaitham 10/10 HP)

She wonders how long that near-whir would be quiet.

"I am not sure whether to be surprised to see you here, though." She asks aloud, because some faces here are more recognizable than others, and if she does not acknowledge her, she will almost certainly be acknowledged. "Is it that I followed you, you followed me... or something else entirely, this time?"

@hahanabi

[nameforthelove]

𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥.𝟐.

a collection of words to describe the strangeness of being human, continued.

✦ aesthosis: the state of feeling trapped inside your own subjective tastes—not knowing why you find certain things beautiful or ugly, only that you do.

✦ anoscetia: the anxiety of not knowing “the real you”.

✦ chrysalism: the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

✦ elsewise: to be struck by the poignant strangeness of other people’s homes, which smell and feel different from your own.

✦ exulansis: the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it, which allows it to drift away from the rest of your story until it feels out of place.

✦ fata organa: a flash of real emotion glimpsed in someone sitting across the room, as if you could see backstage through a gap in the curtains.

✦ flichtish: to be nervously aware how much of your self-image is based on untested assumptions about yourself.

✦ funkenzwangsvorstellung: the primal trance of watching a campfire in the dark.

✦ ghough: a state of panic that everything good will be taken from you too early, which makes you want to swallow the world before it ends up swallowing you.

✦ hiddled: feeling the loneliness of having to keep a secret to yourself.

✦ jouska: a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

✦ koinophobia: the fear that you’ve lived an ordinary life.

✦ loss of backing: an abrupt collapse of trust in yourself, which makes it that much harder to guarantee that your word is worth anything, even to yourself.

✦ mahpiohanzia: the frustration of being unable to fly.

✦ malotype: a certain person who embodies all the things you like the least about yourself, which leaves you feeling repulsed and fascinated in equal measure.

✦ maru mori: the heartbreaking simplicity of ordinary things.

✦ midding: the tranquil pleasure of being near a gathering but not quite in it, feeling blissfully invisible yet still fully included.

✦ nementia: the post-distraction effort to recall the reason you‘re feeling particularly anxious or angry or excited, trying to retrace your sequence of thoughts like a kid gathering the string of a downed kite.

✦ occhiolism: the awareness of how fundamentally limited your senses are.

✦ ochisia: the fear that the role you once occupied in someone’s life could be refilled without a second thought.

✦ onism: the awareness of how little of the world you’ll experience.

✦ querinous: the longing for a sense of certainty in a relationship.

✦ rückkehrunruhe: the feeling of returning from an immersive trip only to notice it fading rapidly from your awareness, as if your brain had automatically assumed it was all just a dream.

✦ sayfish: a sincere emotion that seems to wither into mush as soon as you try to put it into words.

✦ solysium: the unhinged delirium of being alone for an extended period of time.

✦ tarrion: an odd interval of blankness felt after something big happens to you but before you feel the resulting emotional reaction.

✦ the kick drop: the moment you wake up from an immersive dream and have to abruptly recalibrate to the real world—unquitting your job, falling right back out of love, reburying your lost loved ones.

✦ the standard blues: the dispiriting awareness that the twists and turns of your life feel new and profound but are not unique, which makes even your toughest challenges feel harmless and predictable, just another remake of the same old story.

✦ the wends: the frustration that you’re not enjoying an experience as much as you should.

✦ vaucasy: the fear that you’re little more than a product of your circumstances.

✦ vicarous: being curious to know what someone else would do if they were in your shoes, eager to watch another actor put their own spin on the character that is You.

✦ watashiato: curiosity about the impact you’ve had on the lives of the people you know, wondering which of your harmless actions or long-forgotten words might have altered the plot of their stories in ways you’ll never get to see.

✦ wellium: an excuse you come up with to rationalize a disappointing outcome.

✦ wildred: feeling the haunting solitude of extremely remote places, which makes you feel like you’ve just intruded on a conversation that had nothing to do with you.

✦ zielschmerz: the dread of finally pursuing a lifelong dream.