dramatispersonae

Kunzite

You find yourself in a dark space. The pale not-a-Persona is sitting cross-legged on a . . . ledge? a little above head-height, lit with what appears to be their own light, because you sure can't make out anything that it's actually sitting on.

Pinned on the ground in front of you is a stuffed manikin, white and squishy and doll-jointed, with a blank face and obvious stitching.. There are metal pins stuck through it, jamming it against the ground, in five places—three in the head, one in the chest, and one in the hand. A little loop of string is tied to each, with room for a label.

"The heart, the mind, the mouth, the eyes, and the limbs. I'll give you the labels, and you tell me what goes where, and how to put a person together the right way."

[instructions]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What do you mean, if I put it like that?

If that's what you're giving.

[after talking to teammates]

It is what I'm giving.

[. . . holds out a hand for it]

[...idk how to hand you a piece of something inside my head, gamerunner puts his hand on top of theirs and kind of concentrates on the memory and hopes for the best.

the memory itself is waking up in bed, then lying in for a few minutes, indulging a blurry recollection of a battle between four warriors. the recollection itself is an image of Rider and the way he fills a room, then a dreamlike impression of the blur of weapons between four warriors; of a great surge of fear and uncertainty; and then -- of something happening that replaced it with uneasy warmth and a touch of hope, feelings that make the half-awake Waver kick and huddle under the blankets for a moment, fussily excited.

it's a big ball of uncertainties and positives rolled together, basically; very personal.]