#ov3r_p0st

[0v3rcast]

Self Aware Wuthering Waves Ideas:

Feel free to use them. Just tell me if you do (so I can read your work). This will be a list of random idea bits. Spoilers ahead.

The creator of the world (you) is called either the Metronome [providing the backbone of existence by 'keeping time' with your metaphysical heartbeat in the same way as the device does in music] or the First Howl [the birth of existence in deafening sound, with the resonance of your voice shattering unreality to make everything].

You loved music in your first life, and sound-based powers were the first thing you'd unlocked with godly energy. You took a mortal body to walk among your creations and know them.

Your first body died during a disastrously failed peacetalk between two old-world nations, and the first Tacet Field grew from your blood. It's believed that the TDs are the world's rage at humankind for their actions manifested.

The Threnodians and Sentinels are made from your old body, though the parts have been long since warped by time and collected resonance.

The Threnodians have a core sound, a resonation of your dying moments. A gurgle, a gasp. Choking. Blood dripping. The strongest Threnodian is made from your final exhale of breath, and the strongest Sentinel is made from your final inhale of breath.

The reason you can collect so many TD echoes in the game is because it's you who is helping the Rover. They state it's a rare occurrence to get an echo normally in one of the quests - versus the Rover, who can get entire groups of them in a single fight if they're lucky.

Religious practices involving atonement for the guilt of humanity [your killers] are common, and in the most severe sects, some will go so far as to flagellate themselves or have a religious leader do it monthly.

TDs don't attack religious buildings constructed in your honor. They just take them over for themselves, half-understanding the significance and also liking the acoustics of the rooms.

Live music is always to be played at one of your temples. Since very little of the music you like is remembered this many years after your death, they're left to choose their own playlists.

In places without instruments, people use what they can to make noise, and there's a longstanding tradition of oral storytelling in the form of songs in places where people live.

It's believed that there's a sacred note or series of notes that you love dearly, based on a mistranslation of an old-world religious book from some abandoned religion.

The Rover and friends shouldn't be able to survive half the shit they do - you're giving them and others in the main story plot armor in the form of a nearly imperceptible sound that throws off aim and weakens the strength in muscles.

Full resurrection isn't possible for anyone else, so when you're reviving someone mid-fight, it's the equivalent of using smelling salts to wake someone up from a decapitation, but somehow it works.

Your reappearance in the world was first thought to be the release of some ancient Threnodian that was older than any known ones, or perhaps even the being that embodies the end of reality. Nah, s'just you, much to the relief and joy of humanity.

Sure, your powers are... dwindled, but you did un-mortis. That's fucking crazy.

Your avatar, the Rover, kicking Dreamless' ass and metaphorically skullfucking Ovathrax's attempted rematch was basically seen as a sign that you've mostly forgiven humanity for their mistake.

It's impossible for you to have a doppelganger, as the amount of resonance that's required to sustain your physical form (and is emanated by you) would reduce other people to a fucking pulp or shake their organs into mist inside their torsos.

You have no voice of your own when you go to Sol-3. You're like a TD, in the way that the only sounds you can make are sounds that you've heard and collected.

It's the one thing that's forever lost to you, and for weeks after your arrival, you sound like an EDM mashup as you try to speak to people but don't realize what you're saying is total nonsense and scrambled noises.

Early on, you can say intelligible things with enough effort, but it takes all your focus to string together even a handful of words. Sign language is a good friend to you in the early days, if you know it, and if you don't, they're happy to teach you.

People are deeply unsettled by your manner of speaking because sometimes you laugh, but it sounds like someone's spine breaking in multiple places, or you yawn, and it sounds like someone in a car crash.

You don't have any echoes when in the world. The TDs just want to hang out with you anyway.

Eventually, Outcasts find oldworld tech full of machined voices, and now you sound like Miku. Or like Microsoft Sam. Or multiple of them at once, making you seem to talk the way the Master from the original Fallout talks.