The Mods of LifeAftr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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aftr_stories2018-02-19 08:51 pm
lifeaftr_mods) wrote in aftr_stories2018-02-19 08:51 pm
Entry tags:
- ;event: storytelling,
- dear evan hansen: connor murphy,
- final fantasy xv: ignis scientia,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- mass effect: commander shepard,
- voltron: keith kogane,
- ✖ captive prince: laurent,
- ✖ dangan ronpa: hinata hajime,
- ✖ disney: mickey mouse,
- ✖ kingdom hearts: xion,
- ✖ little witch academia: atsuko kagari,
- ✖ no.6: shion,
- ✖ original: yuka ichijou,
- ✖ tales of the abyss: asch the bloody,
- ✖ the adventure zone: lup,
- ✖ undertale: chara dreemurr,
- ✖ undertale: muffet
[MU] - FEBRUARY STORYTELLING / VOTING
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.
"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.
no subject
Character Name: Ignis Scientia
Character Journal:
Number of Offerings: Two
Offering(s):
Story One: It's clear that when Ignis starts this story, he really doesn't want to speak about how he fell prey to an Oolick during the darkness. He speaks quickly, voice flat, expression detached, details almost nonexistent. He's obviously telling just what little he has to in order to move onto what is more important to him--thanking those who helped him afterward. As soon as he gets to this part of the tale, Ignis comes almost uncharacteristically to life. Many emotions pass through his face and voice making it clear he will never forget or feel he has fully paid his debt to all who were there for him.
Story Two: This story is very different than the first. Ignis not only begins it openly emotional, those emotions continue and grow even stronger as he speaks. He mentions how he gave his vision to protect someone dear to him and he never regretted it despite missing being able to see the world around him. Over the months he's been on the island, he's grown used to the darkness, to the idea he will never see anything again.
Or so he thinks.
Imagine his shock when something allows him to be able to see almost immediately upon his arrival on the floating islands. At first, the sudden change is painful, but even before the pain fades, Ignis is filled with so much joy that he will never be able to explain it fully. So many on the island he only knows by voice or through brief glaces into painful memory, but that all changes. Their presence there might have been accidental and intrusive, but he will always be grateful for that accident because now, back in the darkness once more, he's got so many more memories to keep him company. So many more faces and places.
It's a gift he will always cherish.
Public/Private: Public