[MU] - FEBRUARY STORYTELLING / VOTING

[lifeaftr_mods]

Surprise, surprise, islanders: you're due for another lecture from your friendly neighborhood deity. An ocelot sits before the sprawling campfire on the beaches of Mu, grooming one paw - a paw that, on second glance, will prove to not be a paw at all, but a delicate cloven hoof.

"While I am not pleased with your intrusion," says the Storyteller, "it does not mean that nothing should come of it. You've doubtless glimpsed many things, most of which you were never meant to see. I suppose that's what some might call the wizard behind the curtain."

Some. Not all. They don't care to elaborate.

"Given that you're so interested in how the islands on this archipelago come to be, I will provide you with the choice," and here they stress the word with a calm switch of their spotted tail, "as to what sort of land you would prefer to brave next. I cannot promise safe travels, but I can guarantee the manner of materials those new lands may contain."

Four round dollops of sand wobble at the Storyteller's hooved feet, as though shaped by invisible hands, trembling, jellylike in the imaginary night breeze.

"The first...I have glimpsed flora and vegetation that may benefit you - for food, for medicinal purposes, for whatever you may see fit. The second bears something that I suspect can be used to fashion buildings, tools - an ore, of some sort. The third is...loud, terribly loud. A great many people live there, and they do not seem innately hostile. The fourth is full of noises, too, but of a different sort. I suspect a large number of beasts live there; perhaps tameable, perhaps docile, and perhaps not."

Their hooves have sunk into the sand, their amber gaze fixed and unblinking at some distant point on the horizon. Then, abruptly, they straighten, and the tension clenching their slim, felid frame eases.

"...cast your votes, if you wish. Whichever you choose, I will take us there."



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. Those of the nonverbal persuasion have, as of a request issued by Ren (catpiper), an alternative means of telling their stories if they so choose, in the form of the Chamber of Glyphs.

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

[story_teller]

[The ocelot's long, curled whiskers quiver with gaiety. They lift a hoof, which is no longer a hoof, but a white, fluffy paw tipped with coal-black toes. It runs over their ear a single time before resting back on the cover of their tome.]

One might consider this to be my free time. The Storytelling is a duty -- one that I enjoy, regardless, as I am designed to. The Storytelling is over. And yet I remain in your company.

[Though brief, it doesn't sound as though they particularly mind.]

[catpiper]

[By the elated look on her face, that's the answer she wanted to hear. Coupled with their gradual shift into Full Cat form, she's on cloud nine. Good, good. If they're designed to enjoy stories, maybe-]

Do you want to draw together?

[Because they made the fatal mistake of admitting to having something like free time and she's going to use her limited storyteller minutes to ask for the dumbest things. But in her mind, it might help them. It's probably tiring to shove the islanders around as they do and they fought in the battle on Chol-exhausting. More stories=More power=happy god?? Why not use this extra bit of time to try and give them a lil boost?]

We can go to that pretty place you fixed and make more stories.

[story_teller]

[The Storyteller sits stock still for several moments, their bushy ears pricked. Then their spotted shoulders relax; a purring rumble moves through their chest. It is perhaps this form's version of laughter. They lift a paw once more, this time simply displaying it in front of them.]

A kind invitation. Unfortunately, many of my forms lack the fine motor skill to partake. Naturally, at least.

[But have you ever seen an cat with human hands, Ren? Have you?? It's not pretty. They lower their paw and wrap their tail around themself, primly.]

However -- I would enjoy accompanying you. Just know that I cannot draw offerings outside of the Storytelling.

[catpiper]

[Even with all her questions and inquiries on the matter, she didn't expect them to say yes. But they did. She doesn't care about the offerings and the quiet purr is enough to make her think that, yes, this is good. They're going to be happy and-

They don't need fingers. She can teach them to hold chalk in their mouth or help them herself by drawing little outlines around their paws, hooves, or whatever form they felt like being in . Maybe she can coat their animal hands in white chalk and show them how to fingerpaint across the floor. They're gonna be The Best God Artist thanks to Professor Ren. Horrible.]

That's okay. I just want to play with you.

[Get ready to lose at tic tac toe you godly punk.]

Since you're a cat now, you'll be very good at drawing. Cats are good at everything-you'll be that way too.

[story_teller]

[They flick their tail in amusement, the black rings shifting along its length as though nothing more than bangles.]

Are they, now? A cat artist. Not an especially common tale, hm?

[Their tone is mild, jesting; they survey the chamber in their own temple, of course, and have very well been privy to both the artists and the art held within.]

I would never question your expertise in such matters, dear girl, but this is only one of my forms. I have talents. I rather doubt that "everything" is one of them.

[catpiper]

[It shouldn't surprise her the rings move along their tail-it's a form they can make on their own and shift to their will, but it does catch her eye. Do they know they can do that? That making fur bracelets is another talent they have? They might not be a cat permanently, but even their temporary feline appearance gives them a dose of Good Cat Power.

Which means 'everything' is a talent they have. Ren knows!! Don't argue with her about this!!

And while she's eager to begin doodling around their little paws and even nabs a piece of chalk for that express purpose, she has to ask-]

How many things can you turn into? Is there an animal that makes you happy?

[story_teller]

[The Storyteller's tail thumps like a ringed bottle-brush at their side, scattering a small puff of sand into the air. They make a show of contemplating her question deeply; whether their response is actually so difficult to settle upon is another matter.]

A great many things. I would say -- just short of anything. But not quite. Things that are alive, certainly. Animals. People. The subjects of stories. As you can see, I have a preference.

[While not unheard of, very rarely have they shown themself in humanoid forms to others.]

It is not often myself I aim to please when choosing a form. Sometimes I choose to please no one at all. Tell me, dear Ren; which of mine do you like the most?

[catpiper]

[That's a tough question now that she's seen them morph into a cat and she does consider it deeply. They don't seem to mind what form they take, and she wonders if they could turn into a flower-that's technically alive. They would be a pretty one with little speckled black rings on the petals. Maybe they could use book pages as leaves.

But that's not the question here.]

Cats are safe-you're like them, but you're a good bunny too. Those remind me of you.

[She holds up both arms, trying to copy their long ears, and waves her fingers on one hand to mimic the way their floppy ear sometimes swivels and moves in that rabbit form.]

It looks like you're happy when you do that-that's why I like it.

[But cats have their own special language. She's fine with it all.]

You should find an animal that makes you happy too. You'll be able to smile if you do that.

[story_teller]

I will share a secret with you, Ren. One you must not share with anyone else.

I have, over time, come to see a pattern in those who comprise my audience. As such...

[Perhaps unharacertisically, the Storyteller's tone has turned quite conspiratoral, their pelt rippling as they bunch their shoulders and lean in. Their white, rounded ears twitch, and then wiggle, and then flap, and then flap again, seeming to elongate each time --]

[Until there is a veritable set of rabbit ears stretching up from the wildcat's head.]

I have forms to favor over others.

[catpiper]

[That's-

A secret she will never, ever tell. Don't worry about it. Ren? Ren's a good secret keeper, apparently. Load her up with your catunny wisdom because she's delighted and excited and all kinds of thrilled when the bunny ears poke through.

This is the ideal-cat rabbit. Who would've thought?? Incredible.

She can't believe how kind they are-to favor animals that other people like. To find joy in being something that makes others happy.]

That's why your heart is good.

[But now-]

You should lay down and I'll draw around you.

[She will outline their body on the ground like she's starring in the world's weirdest episode of CSI.]

[story_teller]

[If gods have hearts, perhaps.]

[It is a quandary they might pose to others, but not to her. Rarely ever, to hearts young themselves. The Storyteller simply inclines their head and moves to settle down, paws disappearing underneath the thick fur of their chest and long, winding tail splaying in a crescent across the ground.]

[Forensics away, dear.]

And what story are you hoping to tell with this, young Ren?

[Their tone is tolerant, amused.]

[catpiper]

[Look, what kind of story can't be told with the vague outline of a catbunny god on the floor? It's mysterious. Riveting. Absolutely incredible-like caveman sherlock homes or who's that pokemon? Let's see if someone can guess god from the blobby tail outline she's making. Good luck, society.]

One about the pretty moon.

[Because their tail is sorta that shape.]

And the nice god playing under it. It's that kind of story.