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Your character's 'mental world'?


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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.

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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.

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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.

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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. :D 


Edited by Xihsa'li Tayuun
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  • 2 months later...

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!

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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. 

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  • 4 weeks later...

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 by Nerdessence
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  • 1 year later...

[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 by Ser
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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.



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


Edited by Darshendros the Eternal
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  • 4 months later...

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.

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  • 1 year later...
Posted (edited)

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. 




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.




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 by Moon Type
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  • 2 weeks later...

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.

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