[MU] - With a different perspective

[story_teller]

[In the late evening of the 15th, you find yourself sitting at a campfire, surrounded by total darkness. The cheerful light and warmth of the flames emcompasses but a few feet from it’s source, the rest of the world hushed and perhaps...absent entirely.

Beside you, a white(?) rabbit, almost as tall as yourself while sitting down, finishes dutifully cleaning one ear with a sigh, staring out into that pitch black with an almost forlorn expression.]

The problem, when one is a god, is that time… time is a much smaller concept, [they say.] One century, you can be at the peak of your splendor - and yet one tiny, thousand year nap, and everyone forgets about you.

I realize you all have many questions. I would like to make an attempt to address them.

I am the Storyteller. This is the name that people have given me, more or less. One might say that I should be the more universal god of this world; no matter your intentions, no matter your beliefs, you will always create a story. That is simply what a life does.

Those of you I have met are a somewhat…irritated breed. [The rabbit wiggles its nose, head tilting.] So ready to yell and not to listen; but perhaps that is simply your way.

I suppose that, given certain assumptions on certain other parties’ parts, I should make it clear to you that I am not that which has brought you here, to Ensō, to my island. To venture forth on a raft is one thing, but to awaken in another world entirely? Ludicrous. Ludicrous. The fact that you are here at all is impossible.

But you are here, aren’t you?

So perhaps we can help each other.

[Hopping round the fire, the Storyteller turns on their furry heel, peering through the flames. Looking at you- a new, perhaps angry, perhaps frightened adventurer, with your own story to tell.]

You’re all looking to explore this place; looking to feed yourselves? To survive, yes? In a few days, perhaps you could sit down and tell a tale, offer a story in my temple of your adventure so far. Your triumphs. Your failures. Friendships. Rivalries. In return, I am certain that I can assist you - in both your efforts to survive and to uncover what is behind your presence here.

I am certain if we do so, we may return you to your own stories - the ones you’re supposed to be in.

Some of us, [the rabbit continues, sounding for all the world like a preschool teacher calling attention to an unruly kerfuffle in the back of the classroom,] appear to have some additional needs. Namely, requiring regular doses of some chemical something-or-other so that your brains stay screwed on the right way. I only request one offering - one story, one complete tale of your world and the many happenings there - to supply you for all your days.

Ah. And those of you who are not quite…living, in the traditional sense. Affixed with non-living parts? You’ll find that the green pool around the back will give you the type of energy required to function. Please do not bathe in it- that’s so very unsanitary! Others may need to drink from it, you see. No, no. Simply resting nearby will suffice.

[The rabbit pauses, glances at you sidelong. Starlight and fireglow shimmer in its fur, and perhaps when you look again, there is an old, gray tome held between its paws that had not been there before. Or had it?]

As said. It is impossible for you to be here, and yet you are. Your story is about to begin anew. You and I are not the ones to decide that. I exist to perceive your story.

And you? Well, I don’t rightly know. You are here simply to live it, perhaps.

Accept my help, or don’t. At the very least… I’m sure you can think of even more questions.



[Or if you can’t, you can always end the dream by walking out of the fire’s light.]

Comments

[achievementhunter]

[They listen politely- primarily due to the fact that it is the polite thing to do. There's no outward sign of what they're thinking, feeling. Hands folded neatly in their lap, expression calmly attentive.

And yet, Chara is very, very angry.]

I see.

And whatever brought us here- you are so sure that locating it will bring us success? Take us...back, where we belong?

[story_teller]

Certainly not.

[Can a spirit taking the shape of a rabbit sound amused? Perhaps, but there is no trace of humor in this one's tone as they leaf through the blank pages of their book before snapping the cover shut. This child... the Storyteller knows far well already that they have no answers that will satisfy.]

To promise you such a thing as success... impossible. A bauble made of diamond to one's eyes -- surely of glass, to another's! No, no, Kidwun. Not at all.

[There is no undue emphasis on the name.]

[achievementhunter]

[The use of their pseudo name says something in itself, doesn't it? It's highly likely that this creature intended to gain a certain...effect, an understanding.

It knows things it hasn't been told yet.]

That's unfortunate, for you see, I was in the middle of something.

Something that makes being here a theoretical impossibility, sir. And if you cannot promise a return to that point- what good are you?

[story_teller]

As were many.

[It is not especially snippy; simply a fact stated, as the Storyteller darts their pink tongue over a claw and parts the tome in front of them.]

Did you not listen? I believe I've already covered the impossibility of this... chapter of yours. Who decides when a story is done being told? Do not weigh my title in gold: it certainly isn't me. No, no. As for what good I am to you.

Let's see... let's see. Ah.

[A fuzzy toe on their forepaw taps against one of the sun-bleached pages. It remains blank, as do they all.]

Whose woods these are, I think I know.

Well.

I have nothing to keep from you, Kidwun.

[achievementhunter]

Some chapters are more impossible than others.

[They aren't simply thinking of the dead, now. And they're certain it knows that. They don't care about it's book, or these whimsical implications of a knowledge beyond their own. This is not their world; this is not their god.

They have no claim to Chara's assistance.]

If you have nothing to keep from me, then pray, answer the question.

What good are you?

[story_teller]

Perhaps none.

[The Storyteller snaps the book shut just short of forcefully. Their tone is patient, however, and they answer the barb cloaked in red with a quiver of their whiskers.]

What good am I. Don't you tire of that word, old one? Be good, be good! Can a terrible person be good, if they try? Asking someone to judge themself, when their goodness is measured only in the perception of others. Or so it feels, yes?

[But, they digress. Very well. The Storyteller knows, too, with whom it proves better just getting to the point.]

Don't ask me a question I am no judge for. I offer you a service within my power to extend. Use it. Or do not.

[achievementhunter]

['Old one'.

Their smile- widens.]

I see that skirting about the issue even slightly is somewhat of a difficulty for you- shall I try again?

In this presumed transaction of give and take, what are you offering? In addition-

[They lean forward, eyes intent on the small creature.]

What do you gain from these stories?

[story_teller]

[The rabbit not so much as twitches as they return the child's intense gaze. Nothing red in them, about them, though the glimmer of their fur almost suggests a look of bleak, pitching static.]

[Their words, as ever, are plain in tone.]

I offer nothing. Try a third time, if you would. The question useful to you isn't what I am good for. It isn't what I am offering. It is what you want.

To be clear: I can equip you. I can provide you with smaller comforts, if you find that worth your time. I realize that few things are. As for what I gain -- I gain a story. Do you suspect me to be a complicated being? I am not. I exist to perceive stories. Through you, I may gain them. That is enough.

[achievementhunter]

[This is going in circles already. For a brief moment, Chara's frustration is clear on their face, fists clenched and knuckles white as they slowly smooth their expression into something more pallet-able.]

I see.

[There's no use chasing the subject. They might as well experiment, when the time comes.]

Since you've stated that this island is your own, perhaps you would enlighten me as to what we may be up against, in such surroundings. I don't doubt there's something here inclined to threaten our lives.

[story_teller]

I'm certain you've noticed the heat. It is fully capable of killing the unprepared. Or stubborn.

[Their tone is dry in a way the humidity of the island is most definitely not. Is the Storyteller sending a pointed look towards the child's sweater? It's hard to say; their eyes are dark like syrup, lending the creature a languid, almost foolish appearance. Perhaps that is exactly what they are.]

You mean more direct threats, however. Nothing a knife and a skilled hand can't handle -- for now. Your vigilance will serve you well as it ever has, Chara Dreemurr. Simply mind that the game has changed, yet again.

[achievementhunter]

[And they're done.

Standing, they stare down their nose at the creature, fingers curling into tight fists. If they could, they'd pull a knife on them. Stab downwards and put an end to this whilst they still had the chance.

The Storyteller really should congratulate itself on not making the error of meeting them when they're awake.]

I have no idea who you're speaking to.

Chara Dreemurr does not exist.

[story_teller]

Indeed.

[Were it only that simple, to erase that which ails you. No?]

[Regardless, the rabbit looks steadily on.]

Don't forget. A legend is perhaps the most powerful story of all.

[achievementhunter]

[Their lip curls, and without a word, Chara leaves the fire's light.

They have nothing else to say.]