Your character's 'mental world'?

[Hollow]

Your character is in a coma (or something else narratively convenient) and in order to wake them up, your friends must travel into their Mental World! A mental projection within their mind or soul, that represents who they are as a person - their personality, memories, hopes, fears, and so forth. What do they find?

 

This could be their childhood home with pictures of their friends and fears hidden in the basement, or a well-ordered library stocked with memorized facts and knowledge in cataloged rows, or an overgrown playground with broken toys and a rusty swingset, or something else entirely!

 

 

For my character, I think it would be a long dormant volcanic crater, covered in grass and trees, with a small lake in the middle. A volcano, since he used to be strong and boastful, but dormant as he's gotten older and calmer. Plants, because he's gotten a bit wiser and thoughtful (or so he likes to think), and a peaceful lake to represent his centered self of sense and what is right and wrong.

[Kaiverta]

This happened once to one of my characters, and his friend went into his mind to 'retrieve' him. I wrote that his mind was like a white 'desert-like' expanse, foggy/misty, with compartments similar to doors and rooms, partially obscured by 'grey matter' (basically just parts of the mind that weren't active) each of which held a memory or emotion in it. Not easy to identify or open up, but left his friend with a general 'sense' of what that memory was.

[Gegenji]

I thought a bit about this on the way to work this morning and this is what came to mind:

 

Chachan's mental dreamscape would actually be generally pleasant. The first thing that came to mind was a pleasant, sunny field full of sunflowers, rippling grass, and calm little streams and ponds. Pretty idyllic and friendly. His smithy would likely be there, set on a little hill at the center, along with other places he has positive memories of - like the Quicksand or Tiroro's apartment.

 

However, on the fringes - just on the edges of view from the center of the field - are darker things. A mental copy of the ruins of Doma, a Garlean Castrum, the Dimwold. Scenes of all the darker turns of his life made manifest, forever in the back of his mind - never forgotten. And yet - between all of these, perhaps even seguing from them - is that happy field. Existing either because of them, or in spite of them.

 

Something like that, anyway.

[Xihsa'li Tayuun]

Xih's would probably be a stone room, a study, with rigid walls and bookcases, a single window placed above a desk on one wall. Outside, it always rains, sometimes thunders. There's no rug and only a bare wooden chair by the desk and a fireplace one one side of the room. On the mantle, there'd be a bent and twisted hunter's horn.

At first, the place would feel at the same time cold and faintly cozy, dominated by strict lines and order, despite the storm raging outside. If one tried to take a book from the shelves, some would appear old and worn, some new - and when touched some of them would not budge at all, some shackled down onto the shelves. They are the manifestations of his memories, his thoughts, many of them bound and suppressed with the same rehearsed order. When touched by the right person, some would be more responsive. If you tried to take the books off the shelves by force, the entire room would've felt like it was shuddering.

It's how I imagine him at least. He's a control freak and has to try and keep himself and others in line through logic and order, getting easily embarrassed over showing emotion or weakness, while disguising far more depth than he lets others see. That, and books have long been his source of solace and peace. There is more symbolism there, but I'll leave them as my own little mystery.  

 

Edited February 27, 2018 by Xihsa'li Tayuun

[Aldric Sayrillont]

Vons would most likely be one of his camping spots within the highlands, a warm fire among the cold plains, a blanket and a sleeping bag to rest and his supplies at his side, due to living in the war most of his life he has never really escaped that mindset! Despite all the horror that came from it his most focused and strangely happy times for him was when he was out in the wilds hunting down the enemy.

 

I imagine those sorts of memories from his war days would be whats flooding his mental-scape, and a few of the battles that left scarring or trauma on him over the years intermingled in there too!

[Impstatus]

V'arekai is likely "childhood home" kind of guy. Streets of Limsa Lominsa and... salty seabreeze and all that jazz.

 

He loves his bae and is way too serious about wanting to be by Candra's side forever... He does not mind the extravagance and luxury and gilded EVERYTHING Candra loves and wants to live surrounded by.

...V'arekai's brain just probably wasn't build to comprehend so much MONEY to begin with! In form of furnitures and teacups and clothes and stuff! 

If you would make him to take responsibility about the aesthetics and scale of his home? It'd be stupidly ascetic. It's kinda sad, sometimes he has great imagination about things and other times.... just nope.

 

But what can you do. You can take boy out of La Noscea but you can't take La Noscea out of boy. 

[Nerdessence]

That would be character-dependent, but I think Nerezza’s would be the most interesting.

 

Her unhappy background has made her repulsed by venial sin. That no one has ever loved her in any capacity places her in wavering states of fear, defensive numbness, and longing. She found escape in a enchiridion (not to be mistaken with the Enchiridion) about black mages with the classic look (black ‘skin’ and glowing eyes), believing them to be superior people who converted from flesh to aether and therefore liberated of corporeal need and desire. Knowing the risks and disdain the practice of black magic, she nevertheless tirelessly pursues her goal.

 

I imagine her mental world would be fraught with monstrous imagery of debauchery: cold reprobates, giggling drunks, money-worshiping sybarites, Quicksand succubi who tarnish men’s virtues, and so on. If this was a playable sequence, the “boss” would be her own mother as a chilly demoness, having been one of said Quicksand succubi who left her husband for a younger man after having an affair, finding herself pregnant and sending the baby that wasn’t even his back to her ex to raise. Nasty lady. 

 

Nerezza herself would be entombed in shadow-webbing, curled up and shivering in a featureless morass that represents her depression and feelings of worthlessness. Who can save her? Who would bother?

Edited June 16, 2018 by Nerdessence

[Aegir]

Aegir Hlerson's mental world:

 

[Kieron Lohengrin]

someplace fun, where they have to do a lot of jumping around a giant statue 

 

 

[Ser]

[edit: yikes, just saw that I opened a year-old topic ....]

I won't go into detail with my answer but I just wanted to say I really like this prompt. It reminds me of the part in Final Fantasy VI where the party has to dive into Cyan's nightmare and literally fight his demons. The nightmare world looked like the ''Phantom Train'' that his deceased wife and kid rode to the afterlife on.

 

But anyway, to keep it simple, Basho's would probably be the room he and his mother lived in when he was a child.

Edited July 21, 2019 by Ser

[Malachar]

An endless, impossibly large dungeon housed inside a standard castle, filled with traps, pit falls, monsters, and dead ends, multiple floors, trapped forever. You can't die. You just start again. Eventually, you'll make it to the end or go mad trying. 

 

Basically, Dragon's Lair at max difficulty on an endless loop. Also, Hell.

 

Spoiler

The only way to beat the game is by not playing.

 

Edited July 21, 2019 by Darshendros the Eternal

[Purbol]

I can definitely see Oliver's mind world being a vast ocean with a single small island in the middle of it. In the distance are other far off land masses, but no matter how long someone swims they never get even a smidge closer. On the island there is some dense lominsian flora and a relatively small castle in the middle made of white stone. It's full of twisting corridors that are very easy to get lost in. A few rooms in it are locked, while others are wide open and usually contain either contain a mess of some sort (furniture and such) or something silly Oliver purposefully put together. Depending on her mood being good or bad, the ocean and surrounding skies range from clear to just cloudy to thunder storming.

[Moon Type]

Spoiler

It's a refreshingly cool summer night with a stunningly clear sky. All of the stars have come out to play and they smile down on the coastal region of Cedarwood. Friendly farmers offer up their wears to passersby; plump pumpkins, lush peaches and candy-coated insects are all on display at various kiosks. 

 

The cutest Mandragoras waddle about in the grass fields and captivating Wind Sprites float gracefully while sharing their light with those around. And as one approaches the abode of Olinsheer a warm emotional glow can be felt despite the dark and gloomy appearance of the structure. 

 

Upon entering Mr. Olinsheer can be seen fixing an old engine with his daughter, Vikohla. She smiles brightly at your arrival and springs up towards the door to greet you. It's then that you notice the entire wall on your right side is actually alive. As you approach the girl the wall somehow becomes a person, a woman, Mrs Olinsheer. 

 

Tall, unflinching, unfeeling and immovable, Mrs. Olinsheer shadows Vikohla and sets her eyes upon you without even the smallest measure of trust. Mr. Olinsheer looks over to his wife and daughter with a look of apprehension, he knew this would happen. Vikohla seems oblivious to it all as her gaze remains fixed upon you. 

 

"You've come to join us for supper, right? I was hoping you would! Hey, would you like to see the little mammet I'm repairing? It's in my room upstairs." Vikohla takes your hands into her own so she can gently lead you, but the moment she does Mrs. Olinsheer literally pours her hands into Vikohla's, controlling them and ripping them away from yours. Vikohla then says "On second thought, maybe we should just eat. No one is allowed up there." 

 

As you're eating supper with the Olinsheer family Vikohla sings your praises to her parents. Her father looks impressed, her mother hasn't taken her eyes off you since you arrived, but worst of all is the feeling that someone else is in this home. Someone upstairs, in Vikohla's room. A girl whose tragedy is being drowned out by the beaming presence and personality of Vikohla. Your friend now begins to seem more and more like a replacement, a solution, an ideal daughter. 

 

As you think this Mrs. Olinsheer becomes furious. She stands straight up, grows to nearly three times her size, swears something in a language of shadow and science you can't understand and before you know it you're back in the real world. 
 

 

 

Spoiler

A star equal to Dalmund in both measure and misunderstanding is violently divided into three planes by forces of hubris, tragedy and fear. 

 

The third plane is the waters of the star, this was the last to congeal into its own form. Its depths are filled with sorrowful darkness unreached by light and its waves sound like the weeping of the inconsolable. 

 

Forcefully separated from the water is the land of dark green forests, the second plane. Birds of prey both great and small make their home underneath its canopies and no city of corrupt steel or immoral mortar can compromise its stoic nature.

 

And then there's the air, the first to be sundered. When the schism occurred this plane spirited away willingly, fleeing furthest from the other two. It's purple hues glow brilliantly with a gradient of invulnerable vanities, and the element of ego flows in abundance throughout its composition. Tangible to both those of higher and lower estate, yet impossible for either to hold, the air spreads across the whole face of the star while cycling its shades and weather effects with ceaseless regularity. Worst of all it deceives those below with its nightly display, as if the sun, moon and stars are products of its canvas.

 

If there was ever a time to bring these three back together that time has surely passed as you observe how far apart they've grown. Unique each from the other it's all you can do to seek a balance and harmony between the three.
 

 

 

Spoiler

You've entered into this realm of the mind expecting to see the wandering ronin Joribri, or at least signs of her presence, but instead you're greeted by a winged creature brandishing many weapons. Her countenance is that of one hewn from solid rock and detailed with glowing crystals. She has the body of a hyur but the mouth of a fowl of prey. She dons the trappings of a samurai yet her feet tread the earth in pure and unnatural silence. 

 

"How did you get here?!" The figure demands with a voice that seems to be coming from all of the greenery around you. It's then that you realize how high up you are. Even without looking over the ledge of the rocky spire you can feel the unnerving sensation of gravity's jealous pull. 

 

"Can you hear me? You're in danger here! You should not have--" Before the strange figure can finish her sentence you fall to one knee. With each breath the very act of breathing becomes harder. You reach out to the winged creature hoping to find purchase from the hem of her garb, but instead your hand finds an unpleasant tactile experience. A round bundle hanging from the creature's left waist; pulpy yet solid, saturated with sweet incense yet pungent with the stench of decay.

 

It's at this point that you black out, and by doing so your conscious mind returns to reality. 
 

 

Edited April 7, 2021 by Moon Type

[Sanghela]

For Narengal, her mental world would be a recreation of her Kagon Iloh, but the entrance to the cave blocked off. Inside would be her deceased mother and father and all of the smiling faces she remembers of home. She would be willfully ignorant to her situation, delighting in being with her parents once more. At the entrance to the cave system, one would be able to hear the sounds of battle. Screams and jeers and the clash of steel. Outside, the sun would be shining, and her parents' bodies would be once more laid before her. An army of yellow garbed warriors shouting victoriously.

[Chances]

The sky above is cloudy, strokes of lightning occasionally illuminate them, creating a light show that is both dazzling, driving your anxiousness for what is coming, and yet comforting. You know the rain will follow, and somehow you think of the soothing feeling you will be embraced by, looking forward for that feeling against your form. As intimidating as the storm seems, forever prepared to encroach, it never reaches you, wild and natural, and also denying you the comfort you hope for for now ... in time, in all due time. The breeze, however still heralds its coming, brushing past you gently enough as it drifts over the area you're in, treating you much like a rock in the river, not forcefully pushing you along, but gliding around you in a steady breeze.

The surrounding area seems to have the mountains of Ilsalbard standing in vigilance around you, but no formation seems to match anywhere familiar, but the snow topped reaches seem to linger at the edge of the clouds, as its rocky face crawls out to below into the valley below, where this place is nestled. As much as trapping this place in a persistent lock of time, it also feels to protect it from the outside, lights barely visible  at the edges of the mountains suggest you are not alone here, yet the mountains bar too much advancement, your jailer and your guardian.

A path you follow to this point seems to go on forever, even if it is not yours, it feels familiar. Scattered along it are items, objects that incur faint memories, some as insignificant as a fly to your ear, others more profound, but all have been moved on from. The hatchet in the soil, it was your first, you went to training with it. The broken sword, the first blade to serve you, and your first weapon to take a life, shattered and discarded. The memories go on, most long left to history. But along this path, you come to a circular structure, walls as high as the shoulder, strewn with defenses, it's an encampment for battle, but it looks abandoned. Yet you can hear them, voices in the air, dim yet still audible, singing a chant or song, gutteral as much as it has rhythm, a song you swear you know eager to add your voice among them one more time, but like the faded voices, your tongue fails to bring words to this tune. Among the battle prep, the tents and equipment, there are banners and flags, piled up at one end like discarded, broken gear, each one burned and torn. You feel you could recall each one, but so many have stood here as the testament of your current loyalties, but all have ended up like this, some so faded, you can barely recall why it stood there to begin with, yet as you stare at them, there's a profound sense of loss, a listlessness that makes every step forward harder than the last, yet ... you cannot feel despair hold you for long. Yet despite the stark reminders of these losses, the encampment feels as much as a comforting home as any other, it -is- your home, ever ready to pack up and leave, as you can see the path on the other side stretching out and beckoning to continue your march.

Among it all, you spot a few pieces, carefully set about, things you just remember of those you connected with. A battle axe here, a harness, a smell, or even a voice: Friends, mentors, brothers in arms, intimates, yet among them all there is one, nestled aside and covered in torn, battle worn tent cloth. Just staring at it gives you sense of longing and pain as the cloth drifts in the breeze, but never raises fully, giving just subtle hints of what lies beneath. Dried crimson still lingers  beneath it, and as your hand reaches out to pull the cloth aside, there is a shuddering sense of dread, that if pulling it aside would shatter the camp. Your hand curls back slowly in hesitation as you keenly become aware that the voices, the sounds, even the very wind has gone still around you as you dare to desecrate the rest of what lies beneath. Stepping back, leaving the morbid display be, lost among the other items, life seems to come back to this encampment. But feeling that you have discovered as much as you should, the opening at the other end of the encampment beckons ... beyond it, the sounds of hearty battle cries, the thrum of the drum, and the unified roar of the charging host. Despite your comfort in the encampment, there's a magnetic draw to this, your feet almost move on their own ... yet you linger, like there's always business unfinished.

[Dark Dranzer]

I did come up with an idea for my character's mind-scape. It's like an alternative to Shadowbringers where he becomes a full Sin Eater dubbed 'Forgiven Chaos' an allusion to his mental struggles. 
 

Spoiler

His closest friends, Thancred (his best friend), Urianger, Y'Shtola, Ryne, Alisaie and Alphinaud all journey to the centre of his mind (with help from Beq Lu and The Crystal Exarch) after subduing Forgiven Chaos in Feo Ul's castle. It's a race against time before his entire being is consumed by the light, they're being lead by beings representing Galvan's id (Fray), superego (Myste) and ego (Ardbert). The group split up and follow these beings through Galvan's memories to help find a way to bring him back from the brink.

 

Myste walks Alphinaud and Alisaie through his childhood memories (when he was around 6 and 12) where he encountered prejudices against his appearance...an Elezen mother forbidding her child to play with him at the Coereaths because he resembled a 'voidsent' (I don't want you playing with that...voidsent boy) and general anti-Auri prejudices in that region (his brother managing to save both him and his sister from a Knight's Templar attack. They managed to make it back but his brother, Stromm was injured during their flight). Galvan felt guilty over getting his brother injured due to his impulsive nature to wander off. They also encounter the time when Galvan nearly set the family carriage on fire after reading (and practicing) through his great-grandmother's Black Magic tomes. His father was enraged over his recklessness and was terrified that his son held a fascination over destructive magics (his father was a Conjuror - he kept his grandmother's tomes as a memento but hid them so that nobody could use them). The twins discovered Galvan's insecurities over people's view of him since childhood, as a demon.

 

Fray leads Urianger and Thancred through his memories of his Dark Knight training. When he massacred the Knights in Ishgard after they abducted a young woman as well as a group of Amaal'ja's who abducted the merchants. Both Urianger and Thancred were at first, put off by Galvan's berserker rage until Fray explained to them that it came from his desire for justice and to protect those he loved. It's in his nature as a warrior to fight and to protect and sometimes he felt that he was in a cage, having to restrain himself when it'd be easier to cut loose. Fray also told them about their major fight at Dragonhead where Galvan had to confront his darker self and overcome it. The darker half angered at all the indignities he had to face as an adventurer and feeling like he's nothing more than a 'weapon' to point at for people. Given Galvan's hatred of slavery (as his tribe were originally slaves who fought for their freedom), it cut him deeper than anyone else thought as at times he felt like he was a slave to Hydaelyn's will. Urianger and Thancred discovered Galvan's fury, over injustices, prejudices and being used as a tool for people.

 

Ardbert leads Y'Shtola and Ryne through his memories in his adolescence, where he was a headstrong boy being trained by his mother in combat. She was a very harsh teacher to him and encouraging him to 'fall down 7 times, stand up 8'. He was a protective older brother to his sister and whenever she got picked on by others, he's always there to fight them off. Unfortunately he was rarely successful and usually ended up on the ground with a broken nose, her white magic managed to fix his injuries. They witnessed how deep his love for those he considered his family ran and how protective he'd get, with memories of being introduced to the Scions being one of the fondest memories he had. In time he began to see them less as acquaintances and more like a family that stays with you and didn't realise this until the day he lost them. They saw his last fight with Zenos and how the Exarch's ill-timed call distracted him from landing the killing blow and how it nearly cost him his life (and how he gained the scar across his torso). Y'Shtola and Ryne discovered Galvan's guilt, his guilt over not being good enough to protect his loved ones and those he had lost.

 

When they all came together again, they realised that Galvan's issues ran deeper than anyone realised and after gaining a glimpse into his mind they come to understand him better with the help of the three beings. They are resolved to save his soul no matter what, not because people need him as their saviour, but to help him through his issues as they care about him as a friend and a member of their family. When they reach his soul they found it protected by the essences of the Lightwardens he absorbed and all transformed into shades of his memories - Galvan's fury (blood soaked warrior), Galvan's tenacity (teenager), Galvan's guilt (as he was before he confronted Myste for the last time during his Dark Knight training), Galvan's hubris (12 year old - wielding his great grandmother's tome) and Galvan's sorrow (6 year old). 

 

The fight to save Galvan's soul is long and brutal but eventually the Scions bested the shades. Thancred is the first one to reach out and grab Galvan's hand and notices that during the fight, part of the light enveloping his eye was damaged. It was closed though, so not wasting any more time, Thancred pulls his hand along with the other Scions and Galvan's egos who assisted them. They weren't making much progress as the light had taken root deep inside Galvan's being, feeding on his rage and despair and becoming stronger as a result. It wasn't until the Scions encouraging him to fight back and how much they love him despite everything, his eye flares open and instinctively grabs onto Thancred's arm. With a final, mighty pull Galvan is freed from his light prison and is reunited with the Scions. and they return to their bodies after their task was completed

 

In the outside world Forgiven Chaos reverts back to Galvan who promptly collapses out of exhaustion. He barely mumbles out a 'sorry...' to everyone present until he passes out again. He awakens days later at the inn with the Scions standing watch over his comatose body, with Urianger, Alphinaud, Alisae, Ryne and Y'Shtola taking turns in healing his body and spirit. Thancred and Ryne helped make him a hearty stew (not unlike his favourite Warrior's Stew) once he woke up.