The Masks We Wear (Worm x Persona)

Prologue - Unknown

'Hey....please...please wake up...Oh god, please don't leave me.....' A gasp splits the air. 'You're awake! Thank god! Now we can....what...oh no....Do...do you remember me? It's me....It's Taylor...'

You hear a choked sob now. You aren't sure how you feel right now. Is that feeling in your chest sadness? Annoyance? Something else entirely? You aren't sure, but that doesn't feel like it's important now. Your eyes are open, but all you see is black. Slowly light enters your vision, and with it, a blurred figure. You can barely make out her features, tall and slender, with curly black hair. Her eyes, slightly larger than usual and a brilliant blue like sapphires, are shining with tears. Are you important to her? You don't know, although you feel you must be. If nothing else, her reactions convince you. You don't remember her. In fact, you don't remember anything, and you tell her so. For some reason that makes her sadder. You wonder why.

Another figure enters your vision. Another woman, blond hair shining like spun sunlight. You vaguely feel a sense of awe, but...strangely you cannot recognize her either. You know you feel an odd sensation, one similar to yet different from the feeling evoked by the black haired girl, but you don't know why. She looks at you, first in happiness, then in sadness. She leans over to the black haired girl—Taylor you correct yourself—and whispers in her ear. Taylor visibly wilts, and responds in equally quiet voice. For a few minutes, the two whisper to each other, before the other figure nods and leaves.

Taylor visibly withdraws into herself.

'Vicky just...you don't know Vicky either do you?' You try to shake your head negatively, but the sharp pain makes you rethink your decision. Taylor quickly but gently stops you from moving your head. Probably a good idea, you think. 'Shh...don't move....we just barely escaped...That damned monster nearly killed us....even after...even after...'

By this point she can barely be called coherent. Bad memories, you figure. Did she lose somebody? You give yourself the mental equivalent of a slap. Of course she did! Why else would she be acting the way she was? There must have been some great hardship recently. You make to comfort Taylor, but the mere act sends jolts of pain throughout your body. You do so anyway, because it just feels right. Taylor visibly steels herself before noticing your pain and immediately stops you.

She stands up slightly, and you can barely make out a flash of blue. A sound like cracking glass echoes out a moment later and all of a sudden you have to close your eyes at the light that suddenly fills your vision. Miraculously, you can feel your aches and wounds fade. Now the aches are dull instead of debilitating. The sound echoes again, and you feel...almost good. You vaguely register flames on your skin, but your skin does not burn. All the same, you start to....black.....out........
…..

When you next wake, you feel as though you are laying on a cloud. Are you dead? You have no idea. The voices that you hear convince you otherwise. If that wasn't enough, you feel a hand running through your hair. One of these voices belongs to Taylor. You know that. You don't know who else is there, but you hear at least four others, although you cannot make out the words. One male and one female. You can barely make out Taylor's voice, although you had the impression she was right next to you. You keep your eyes closed, mostly so that the others won't notice that you are awake. You hope that you can keep up the ruse long enough to find out what's going on. Alas...

'She's awake.' The voices are brought into sudden clarity, just before those words silence the conversation. It was a woman who spoke, and all you could gather with your eyes closed was that her voice was regal.

Then you hear a soft, good-natured chuckle.

'It seems as though your friend has awakened. Doubtless she has questions. Open your eyes child, you are safe here. Miss Taylor was fraught with worry when she dragged you here.'

The voice is male. You know that for certain, and as you open your eyes, you realize that you can suddenly see quite clearly, and that you feel no pain. The hand stops running through your hair enough that you can sit up. You do so, noting idly that Taylor is sitting right next to you. As soon as you sit up she hugs you tightly. You squeak but try to return the hug. You idly note that she is stronger than her body suggests. She notices your difficulty and relaxes her grip in response, apparently realizing your problem. With the reduced pressure, you again return the hug, and she smiles at you. You have to admit, her embrace feels...nice. One of the female voices clears her throat. It's Taylor's turn to squeak now, and she hurriedly lets go of the embrace. Apparently she was so caught up by you waking up that she forgot that the two of you had company. You feel strangely disappointed by the abrupt end of the embrace, but decide to take the opportunity to see where you are.

You are in a library, although it is like no library you have ever seen. For one, it swayed from side to side. It was subtle, almost so subtle as to be unnoticeable, but it was there. Almost like you were on a boat. For another both the floor and the walls were covered in Blue Velvet. . The bookshelves of the library were filled to the brim with books, but you could not make out the titles of any of the books. There were tables and chairs dotting the area, and two sofas. It is one of these sofas that you are sitting on now.

Then you turn your attention to where the voice came from, and there you see a strange group of people.

One of the women reminds you oddly of Taylor in her build. She is thin and tall, and not very curvy. Her hair is an odd greenish silver, and she wears it in a short bob-cut style. She appears to be wearing a blue outfit that makes her look like an elevator attendant. You're not entirely sure why she is dressed as such as you don't think that this library has an elevator, but you decide that it's not up to you to judge what someone else wears. But what catches your attention is not her hair, although it is odd, nor is it her outfit, as out of place as it is.

No, what catches your eye is her eyes. Was that yellow color natural? Surely, there is no way that human eyes can be such a vivid gold color naturally, right? That had to be impossible, right? And yet you could not deny the proof that stood right in front of you.

You also make note of the genuine smile on her face. Is she happy to see you well, or is she naturally that happy? You don't know for certain.

Your eyes turn to the other woman, and you notice immediately that she shares many features with the other woman. She has the same greenish silver hair, although hers is much more...feminine. She even shares the same vivid gold eye color... you idly muse that people who are related to each other have similar traits. Unlike her sister –after all, it would only make sense right?--this second woman is quite
curvaceous. Her smile is a bit more subdued than her sister's, but it is present none-the-less. Her demeanor feels...strict. You surmise that it was she who informed the others that you had woken up.

And that brought your attention to the strangest person in the room. He is a short man, much shorter than anyone else in the room. You have the impression that he is even shorter than you, and you had been feeling rather small in the midst of the three tall women. His hair is noticeably balding in the center of his head, although the rest of his hair was plentiful. If that had been all, he might have been an ordinary, but unattractive man.

But there is nothing ordinary about the mans face. After all, even in your confused mind, you don't think that a nose that long and pointed is ordinary. You then notice that his ears are similarly pointed. It is his eyes that are most unsettling. They are large, bloodshot, and they seem to bulge out of his head. His eyes are framed by a pair of big bushy eyebrows. These traits all serve to emphasize the extremely large smile on the mans face. The smile that is missing one too many teeth for your liking. You lean into Taylor out of sheer virtue of her being the most ordinary of the people in this room. She relishes the contact, and the man chuckles again.

“Welcome...to the Velvet Room. This is a room that exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. It is a place that ordinarily can only be entered by those who have signed a contract. Today, we have made an exception with you, so that you may recover, and that Miss Taylor does not continue to drive herself mad with worry.”

Taylor turns red from embarrassment. You feel certain that your face is similarly red. The man continues, his grin widening slightly. You get the feeling that he is amused.

“My name is Igor, and I am the proprietor of this humble place. These are my assistants, Elizabeth and Margaret. This is not the first time you have met them, but you do not remember them, do you?”

You shake your head, and you catch a glimpse of sadness from the one that Igor called Elizabeth. Were you important to her too? You don't know for certain. You know you feel... something for her, but you don't know what. You know only that you feel more strongly towards Taylor than you do towards Elizabeth.

“Now, why don't you introduce yourself?”

This struck you as odd. Should they not already know your name if you were as close as their behavior suggested? You put voice to the question that was running through your mind. Igor's grin did not waver.

“Ah, yes. We do know your name. The question is...do you?”

You are indignant. Of course you do! Your name was....your name was....

Oh god...you didn't remember....you didn't remember! Your panic must have been answer enough. Igor's face adopts an expression of pity, as if you confirmed his suspicions. You probably did, now that you think about it. You couldn't help but look over at Taylor. Her face was frozen in an expression of shock, as if she didn't believe what she was hearing.

'You knew!' Taylor's voice rings out, her tone conveyed her shock. You don't know if the shock is from the revelation or from the idea that she didn't notice. The latter sent a pang of...was that sadness?

“I suspected, yes. We already knew that something like this might happen, if you recall.”

You have no idea what they are referring to. How could you with no memories? Did you know that something like this might happen? If so, why did you do it? What was at stake? Why were only you affected? That other woman...Vicky...she didn't seem to be affected by whatever it was that affected you. Why was that? You had so many questions and so few answers

'I mean yes, but...'

Igor holds up his hand in an attempt to stop her. You almost make a move to speak in her defense, but something holds you back.

“This is unimportant at present. Instead, why don't we help our guest recover her memories?”

They can do that?

“Indeed. This is a place that exists between consciousness. It takes its shape based on the unconscious of our current guest. It is a reflection of our guests mind and destiny. It is possible to share key memories of our guest using this room. Your mind is, even now, looking to repair itself. It is possible that watching these memories may unlock memories of your own, as I'm sure you feature quite prominently.”

You look stunned, and if you were to look right next to you, you would see that Taylor is not much better. You then start to worry. What if Taylor doesn't want to show you her memories? You understand that these memories can be painful. Her earlier reactions attest to that. So you can understand if she doesn't--

'How can we do it?'

Taylor's response is immediate. She does not hesitate, and she does not falter upon making her query. You feel touched by the trust that she shows you, and you show your appreciation with a slight squeeze of her hand. Igor chuckles noticing your reactions. Elizabeth and Margaret also have small smiles on their faces. Elizabeth even giggles while muttering something under her breath. You have the oddest feeling that she muttered the word 'cute.' You have no idea why.

Igor smiles and claps his hands. Once...twice...three times. After the third clap, you notice something odd. There is suddenly no furniture other than the sofas and the table shared by Igor, Margaret and Elizabeth. Instead, on the opposite of the room, there now stood a massive TV. With a chuckle, Igor merely responds to the question.

“Simply open your mind. The Velvet Room will do the rest.”

And so, You find myself dressed in moderately comfortable clothes,and you curl up next to Taylor, anxious to watch the TV. You want to restore you memories and yet....yet you realize that this will mean Taylor will have to relive her most troubled moments. The thought makes you sick and anxious. Will she still want to help you with this...struggle? Will she still want to help you through this lack of memories?

It is now Taylor's turn to grasp your hand and reassure you. She smiles at you, although it is a nervous smile. You get the feeling that you will find out more than she ever told you. Somehow the idea doesn't bother you as much as it should.

You lean into her as the television screen flares to life. Soon, images start appearing on the screen. And you are no longer anxious.


A/N: This is a story idea that would not leave me alone. I will preface this with the following: I am not an exceptionally skilled writer. This is as much a writing exercise for me as it is a story. Having said that, I have plans for this. I have mapped out a basic outline of the events of the story, and I have several scenes in my head that I just can't wait to do.

Again, I reiterate, I am not a great writer, and I am actively trying to improve. That means that I will likely revisit chapters that I've already written and edit them so as to, well, be better. I am also a very slow writer with a fickle muse and so updates may take a while to come.

Now, as far as the story goes, this chapter is in a different style than most of the others. Most of the story will be written in Taylor's Point of View, and won't be italicized. They're technically flashbacks and so will be written in past tense. Speaking of which, I decided to use the italics as a stylistic choice to separate the time periods. And yes I left the narrator vague on purpose.

Having said all of that, I hope that you have enjoyed the story so far and that I haven't screwed up too badly so far. Oh and the title is a Working Title by the way, and may not end up being the final title. It's meant to reference the Wild Card though.