#memory bubbles

ive got a good chunk of the bubbles on the space station done, but theres some im gonna need to find on my alt(looked at them before i realized theres not a way to review them) and some others i just didnt get to yet

but yeah heres the link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/18-JqVuxJP44EgWmp2CoYc1HLuHnTXxZP6te302QdEZk/edit

-🐈‍⬛

Link for everyone:

I’m going to transcribe it here (because pasting screenshots would be insane of me):

Your neurons are connected to the bones of Mecha No. 16′s arms – the experience has always been uncomfortable. You turn around, ready to complain to your partner, only to find Leah is also staring at you. No words are necessary.

She smiles, then raises her arm. You sense a reaction in your forearm. Like a marionette, you are controlled by invisible strings. You try to resist it, but it hurts. At last, you lift your arm, and the pain lessens as expected.

“You don’t like being controlled by me in this way?” She snickers at you with her head crooked. Blinking her eyes, she sticks up her index and middle fingers and rests both hands on her head, making them look like a pair of rabbit ears. You are forced to do the same and feel embarrassed about it.

You know she is  making fun of you. "Could you not read my mind?” You deliberately crease your forehead and quickly spin around to avoid meeting her eyes. This is not something you are used to doing.

Leah chuckles before inching her face closer. "No. 16 isn’t capable of that." You can feel her warm breath caressing the back of your neck. "Are you blushing? C’mon, you are a girl too."

You decide to steer the conversation away from the awkward topic. “What’s our mission this time?” You grit your teeth, feeling as though there are burning coals in your mouth and your body is on fire. Your voice is cracked.

"Catch that star". She looks up at the light of the star that glides downward outside the cockpit and falls into the ocean, where it is crushed by the waves. You let out a muffled grunt, unable to figure out why she appears so calm.

"You’re scared." She extends her arm in your direction, but your arm does not move in response. It seems like she has cut off the connection. While you are deep in your thoughts, she beckons you over. "Come on," she invites in a serene tone, "let’s do it like the old days.”

You reach out your hand silently. She gently laces your fingers together and holds your hand in a tight grip as usual. She is strong despite her slender and small body...

The stars are still sparkling on the ocean outside the cockpit. Instinctively, you tighten your hold on Leah’s hand to prevent the starlight from slipping through your fingers.

The Nightcrawlers Memory Bubbles (1984)

During a bleak and dark night, an old man is walking through a silent snowy landscape, surrounded by gnarled trees and dusty ruins. His eyes are constantly looking at strange transparent bubbles all around the place, some are as big as a little house, other barely reach the size of a human head and several of them slowly move around. But all of them are filled with some kind of imagery, most of which is moving. As the man walks, he is dressed in an old shabby coat and holding a homemade walking cane, his body is frail but apathetic to the unforgiving winter. He stops for a while, looking at a human-sized bubble with two transparent young people inside, plotting something together while having great time, the same scene repeats again and again, lasting for about five minutes each time when they walk away and suddenly appear back. After watching the same cycle twice, the old man walks to his next stop - a small bubble lying on the ground, depicting a rock with symbols painted on it. "Oh, I remember." the man says and then looks a few meters further from it, the exact same rock is lying there but completely solid and with only a small traces of paint left. He walks very slowly to the rock and picks it from the ground, then puts it in the bubble, trying to match the position of the projection. The old man then sits on a decaying stump surrounded by a huge bubble projecting a sinister shaped tree with several carved pictures in it. Looking around, he sees dozens of bubbles, some containing people and animals, others just objects and a few meters from where he is sitting, a much more clearer but still transparent imagery can be seen – it is an old man standing and looking around, the same one that is sitting on the stump right now but with fewer wrinkles and a less shabby coat.

On the subject of Kurloz’s religion, and indeed, the religion of all subjuggulators...

I AIN’T SURE IF MEULIN AND I EVER BROKE UP, IF WE DID THEN WE GOT BACK TOGETHER, ME AND MY KITTYBITCH JUST WEREN’T GONNA BE SEPERATED. SHE WAS SHOCKINGLY FORGIVING, I DIDN’T DESERVE ANY OF THE SWEET TREATMENT SHE GAVE ME, BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP HER.

I DIDN’T KEEP THE STITCHES. I KEPT MY VOW, BUT AFTER A COUPLE DAYS MEULIN JUST WOULDN’T HEAR OF ME KEEPING MY MIRACULOUS MOUTH ALL SEWN SHUT, SHE KNEW I COULDN’T STUFF MY GOB LIKE THAT AND THE THOUGHT OF ME STARVING WAS MORE THAN SHE COULD BEAR. SHE CONTACTED THE MARYAM GIRL AND HAD HER MAKE ME A SET OF SPECIAL LIP RINGS. IT WAS LIKE A MOTHERFUCKING MIRACLE. I KEPT MY MOUTH PIERCED SHUT AND TOOK THE RINGS OUT TO EAT. IT WAS A VERY NICE COMPROMISE, KITTYCAT EVEN SAID THEY LOOKED HOT.