[MU] - JANUARY STORYTELLING

[lifeaftr_mods]

For once, there is nothing that needs sharing before this particular dream. There is, perhaps, a lingering edge of tension, of anticipation, like a great jungle cat gathering their hindquarters just moments prior to making a leap.

But you knew that already, didn't you?

In any case, everything settles into place with the air of natural routine.



It is time, once more, for you to tell a story. The setting will be familiar for oldcomers, and newcomers will recognize it from the introduction they received in their dreams. This too is a dream, and the ink-black dark is illuminated only by the bonfire surrounded by log seats. And seated around the fire are your fellow islanders, many of whom doubtless know the drill by now.

One by one, you will each have the opportunity to share your stories, as stories possess a certain undeniable power. Newcomers can tell whatever tale they wish, but for those who have been in LifeAftr for at least one Storytelling, only stories of their time in LifeAftr will count down the road. The story need not be long, or conventional, or even verbal; as long as the Storyteller knows it has been told, it will qualify.

If you prefer to keep your mouth shut, that's always an option, though you're more liable to benefit if you do. Perhaps you'd rather not relive any of your history, varied and variegated as it must be. Or maybe you're something of a compulsive un-truther, prone to embellishments and long, fanciful tangents. As long as the core of the story is true to its spirit, you are free to spin your tale however you like.

So choose well.

Comments

IC || STORYTELLING

[lifeaftr_mods]

If you wish to thread out the relaying of your story so that other characters may react to it, you may do so here!

[lightlessfuture]

[ The Knight has very little to say (nothing at all, in fact) but their sword finds a lot of work, drawing in the sand. Both stories are told in pictures, without words, though the Knight seems keen to clarify any questions.

They might get a little distressed if you accidentally smudge a picture, though they'll correct it in short order.

first:
These pictures produce a story about a smith who forged a 'perfect weapon'. Overcome by the product of his life's work, he begged to be struck down with it, so that his life could be ended by the blade's keen edge.

The warrior refused, and though the smith was left bereft for a time, he found another calling, and a kindred spirit in a warrior who had put down his arms to paint, instead. They remained happy, together.

second:
These pictures tell a story about an old stag beetle whose duty was to travel far and wide, through a kingdom brought to dust and ruin. Though the rest of his kindred were dead and gone, he still served. He was the last of his kind, or so he thought.

With a traveler's help, he found ways long lost, and remembered the way back to the place he was born. In that place, there was a freshly hatched egg, and the old stag realised he was not alone, and no longer the last. ]

second

[souris_keteer]

[Mickey isn't 100% sure what the story is about, but he gets the gist of it, and he smiles.]

... I'm glad the little guy's not alone anymore.

First

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Muffet looks over the Knight's illustrations with thoughtful eyes, trying to be sure that she understands just what she's looking at- it seems important to her that she understand it properly. Finally, she smiles softly.]

I'm happy for them, that they found each other. People aren't meant to be alone.

[lightlessfuture]

[ They nod at Muffet's response. They'd chosen to tell the story for more than one reason; it was something they could change, some good they could do in a place where so much had already been lost.

There was no need to lose more.

Not that they can really convey the depths of such thoughts. But that brings them to a question they can ask, at least.

not lonely here ? ]

[prettypurpleparlor]

[She tilts her head thoughtfully.]

I'm not, no- I do miss my family at home, and I hope to see them again soon, but I've met enough good people here that I don't feel lonely. Are you?

[lightlessfuture]

[ Ah, family. Family is something that always seems to come up. They scratch in the ground again. ]

family

lost . destroyed . gone .

[ Technically true. They still mourn the siblings who are nothing more than fragments, who never got to live; the ones they only met in death; the ones tormented by infection, that they put to rest in the only way they could.

They had reunited, in that deep darkness, but they were separated now, and the knight knew enough of life to mourn that many of them had never gotten the chance to live it; to see what lay beyond home.

Life and its hardships hadn't been all bad. They'd met kind people, strange people, hardened people, in their travels. They had never been somewhere to belong to, but it had been enough to sate their small appetite. ]

was lonely . better now .

people are kind here

like you .

: )

[ They appreciate Muffet's kindness. It was a comfortable feeling, to be held, to be carried. It wasn't something they got very often. ]

[yourattention]

Made a map.

[Connor unrolls a piece of papyrus which is a fairly detailed, if not entirely accurate (the inconsistent scale leaves a lot to be desired), map of a specific area of Ensō. Specifically, it's of E4-8 and D7/8 with an inset section mapping the islets. There's a path marked that seems to be, essentially, how one might get from the Temple to the monkey compound.

This show and tell appears to be in lieu of a "proper" story, but mostly because storytelling is the one time he knows everyone will be around.]

In case any of you are on Ensō and need to know relatively safe areas to be for what's coming up.

[souris_keteer]

[Mickey whistles, clearly impressed.]

Wow, what to go!

[wonderland_vogue]

[Oh boy is this ever not a story she wants to tell, but there's just something eating at her in order to say... something about it, at least.]

You know, I used to have a little brother. Used to, being the keyword.

A little backstory, I guess, our mother died when said little brother was a young child. Myself and my twin, Edward, wouldn't and couldn't just leave him by himself or give him to someone else. He was our little brother and just because disease played a part in everything didn't mean we couldn't... survive, right? I think we were maybe just barely teenagers at that point, taking care of a child by ourselves, whatever we had to do. Some days we went without in order for him to eat or sleep or whatever he needed. Didn't matter, him over us.

It went on like this for a few years, Edward and I picked up illusion magic and used our minds to basically fleece people out of their money since they couldn't... figure out how our games worked. They never involved the illusions, not our own games, now the gambling tables and such? Yeah, we rigged those with fake balls or whatever to win from whoever was running it. But never our own.

Though when we were adults, Edward and I already a good way into the mess and Keats just barely... He got sick, too, ended up being the same thing our mother had. No cure for it at the time, might be now, I don't know.

We did what we could, got different opinions, threatened a doctor that first told us the news as we thought it was bullshit and he wasn't trying. We... joined a necromantic cult since we had nowhere else to turn to, we thought it would do something, be able to stop whatever it was.

It didn't.

Eventually he succumbed to that illness and we were left with just the two of us, desperate to hold onto the other so we wouldn't lose the last family we had.

[darkova]

[Ingway's stories seem more like half sing-song half poems, done almost entirely in kenning]

First

[his first tale is literally about a wizard's caldron. The caldron was full of diamonds, and to try and claim it many people began to go to war. A foolish child tried to claim it to save his family from battle, and in revenge the magic caldron turned his family into rabbits, and he couldn't live with them anymore]

Second

[Later, a much more in soft song mostly to himself, Ingway tells of a frog that fell in love with a flower. He hated being small so much that he became a wolf... But in becoming powerful he grew too large, and couldn't see the flower anymore, and lost it forever. ]

First

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Muffet responds to the story with polite, decorous applause, admiring the skill that it's told with even as she pities the characters for their unlucky ending.]

Well told, dearie- though I can't say I would call the child's punishment a proportionate one.

[darkova]

Oh, most certainly not. It's my thought that like life, not all stories should be fair.

[There's something almost grim about his tone and expression at that.]

[prettypurpleparlor]

[She nods solemnly.]

Would that we could improve the former- but until then, I suppose the latter ought to reflect it accurately.

[bitch4bitch]

Sooo when I started going to school, my parents were super pushy about making sure I didn’t get into trouble or start fights or anything like that. Basically, they wanted me to do the whole fitting in thing, since, uh… I mean, yeah, in fairness, werewolves who stand out can run into a lotta trouble.

Anyway, I did what they said, I was a good kid and all that shit. Problem was, it pretty much sucked. Nobody knew shit about me, people hardly knew I existed - and they pretty clearly suspected I was a werewolf anyway. So I tried to get ‘em to pay attention to me the ‘acceptable’ way; I figured out what was in fashion, I looked nice, I acted nice, and y’know what?

It didn’t do shit.

I was getting pretty pissed about it all, and then when I was… man, fifteen, I think? Some kid in my class was messing with me, like he’d been doing all year. Nobody ever did shit about it, ‘cuz it wasn’t a big deal if he acted like a living turd, but I was over here trying to be the nice chick who everyone likes, and it didn’t fucking matter anyway.

So I broke his nose. [She grins.] I got suspended, and my parents were pretty pissed, but when I got back to school? He kept his distance. And people knew who I was.

So, uh… moral of the story, violence solves more than you’d think. The end.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[Muffet unsuccessfully tries to smother a laugh with one hand.]

Oh dear... well, they do say that sometimes a fight is only a conversation in another form. Perhaps you're just a very clear communicator that way.

[bitch4bitch]

Right? It got the point across, seems like a success to me.

[She looks VERY pleased with herself, though that's not a huge change from the usual.]

[prettypurpleparlor]

Was it a cross, or was it more of an uppercut?

[Muffet pauses, winces delicately as she realizes she just made a terrible pun on sheer reflex, and covers her face with one hand.]

I'm terribly sorry, an old acquaintance of mine has clearly been a terrible influence on me.

[Doesn't matter if he's not even on the island anymore, she's still blaming Sans for this.]

[onegreeneye]

First

Um… well, I learned what… “dabbing” is. And that some people think it’s funny, which is why there was a statue of it at that party.

I actually had no idea why that was there at first, and… I mean, I appreciate all efforts to explain it, though just doing it at me didn’t clear much up? But eventually I was told enough to get some idea of what was going on there. Apparently it’s a dance? From… pretty far after where I’m from, which explains why I’d never heard of it.

Anyway. Now I understand.

[It could not be more obvious that he does not understand dabbing.]

[souris_keteer]

[Mickey lets out an amused laugh.]

Did you have fun, at least?

[onegreeneye]

I guess so. I... don't tend to do well at parties, but it was nice.

[souris_keteer]

As long as you had fun, that's all that matters!

[escampist]

I'm so fucking jealous of you and the rock you've lived under that you don't know about dabbing.

[onegreeneye]

From what I hear, it was more an issue of timing than anything.

[Ginko that might not clear much up.]

[escampist]

What, like you're just really old?