[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

[savedbyasong]

Shion watches the Storyteller as he thinks, he doesn't mind the silence. He is not very good at reading people- or gods, but he thought that if the Story Teller had disapproved of his question he would have told him, or at least told him to go away. Or hurt him. But considering apparently they had ended up on the floating islands against the storytellers will and had seen things they should not have Shion thought if the Story Teller was one to punish them they would have already.

More like Dax or Zo than Ruana, Aster had said so and Shion was beginning to agree. He tilted his head at the answer. To meld yourself to the people, he thought he understood. When he had went to West Town he had had to learn to be more like the people there, to understand them, to fit in. So the land was like a formless stranger, and became more like him, like them...

The land was a god itself? That... made very little sense to Shion but no less sense than the idea of a god did at all.

"I guess not... But does that mean... is the land sentient itself? If it is a Deity does it have thought... Or is it just a mirror of those that arrive there?"

[story_teller]

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. If so, then it is a Deity beyond my perception just as it is beyond yours. And certainly not one like myself."

Calmly, the Storyteller lifts a paw and runs their bright pink tongue over its side. They begin grooming their ears.

"Does it matter? Knowing the islands will not change those things which they showed to you. You ask questions of the realm outside of you, but given the nature of the islands, perhaps you should be turning your curiosity inward."

[savedbyasong]

So not one that the Story Teller could sense. Which meant they could sense other dieties. Shion stored that knowledge away.

It was a little distracting watching the Story Teller groom their ears. Shion knew they were a god but it was hard not to think them as any other cute animal, albeit one that could talk and give information. That helped Shion feel calm about speaking to them, but it also was difficult to keep in mind that they were a god and had such power.

The question made him frown, he should be turning his curiosity inward? Instead of at the islands themselves? "I don't understand."

[story_teller]

They continue tending to their grooming, either unaware of Shion's scrutiny or intentionally ignoring it.

"You ask how the islands did what they did. I might dare say that is unimportant. Were I you, and I am not, I would instead ask: why did they do what they did? And the answer is: you. Your will bent them, consciously or no. Perhaps that makes you the Deity, in some respects."

[savedbyasong]

Why they did what they did? He guessed motives were important. Maybe even more so than knowing how. Because it was obvious that the islands were powerful, understanding them might come better from motives.

He blinked at the Story Tellers words. He had bent the islands? They had been the ones with power, somehow forcing the islands to take on forms from their memory. That was strange, worrying.

"Perhaps..." He was quiet a moment, deep in thought. It had come from inside them and the islands were more... passive. They had the power to shape themselves but no motivation to, until people arrived.

"What about... the parts that looked like a volcano. Was that the islands themselves? Fighting back against us forcing our will onto them?" He should pause, that's how conversations are meant to work. But his head is full of questions and so he speaks again forgetting to wait.

"Something happened... it made Ren small and it made me... violent. Did that come from inside us as well?"

An awful thought, but from his conversation with Ren... she was afraid and wished to hide. Maybe inside her was a desire to be smaller and inside him...

He stared at his bandaged hands.

[story_teller]

The Storyteller's solution? Answer without specifying which question they are addressing.

"In a sense."

With a final flick of their freshly-groomed ears, the Storyteller sets their paw back down upon the sand. Their eyes, too, bright and beetle-like, travel to Shion's hands.

"Nothing in this archipelago has the ability to create from nothing. Even my own power relies upon the stories fed to me. There is always reason. It is not always discernible. A rock cannot understand how the sentient mind works, and the opposite is true as well."

[savedbyasong]

Shion blinked, what question was he answering? Both? Shion listened carefully, nothing had the ability to create from nothing. So it had to come from within them. So the desire to harm others was inside him and the islands had used that, as with Ren's smallness. That... didn't surprise him but it did sadden him.

He tried not to dwell on it, taking another breath and staring at his hands for another moment. Thinking. The rock could not create from nothing. So what had caused the island to have that volcano-like appearance? Something from without if the rock could not create from nothing?

"Is there something else there then? If the rock cannot create from nothing then what shaped it to create the volcanic like effects? Everyone I've spoken to saw that, it was not restricted to any one person."

It could have come from Shion's memories, it was what he had suspected at first. But he thought Eichi would have mentioned if it was part of his when they were talking about it. Eichi had seen it when Shion was no where near.

[story_teller]

"As I said: I do not understand how a rock thinks. Just as I do not understand how the trees think, nor the sand, nor..." here, the Storyteller trails off, and the fur on their shoulders bristles subtly. "... the sea. They answer to forces beyond my grasp."

Their tone carries finality to it. It would seem that they aren't especially interested in divulging the secrets of the floating islands, if they indeed even know anything.

[savedbyasong]

Shion nodded though he noted the fur bristling, he didn't mention it though. Just filed it away. Once he would have pushed, but he is much better now at reading social cues, even if they come from gods formed as Ocelots, the tone is at least recognisable.

"I understand." He looked down, "Last question... I... there was something else as well. I had a vision, it felt a bit like... well like this." He waved his arm around, he hadn't quite made the connection when it happened as this was his first storytelling. "I saw something from my original world, it wasn't a memory but it could have... it could have been my fears..." He looked down at his hands again.

"Aster saw something too... were they... did we see the truth or was it more of us bending the rock to our will?"

[story_teller]

The Storyteller's tail sweeps across the ground, drawing swept wings into the glistening orange sand. They regard Shion in silence, perhaps deliberating their response carefully.

Then they pull their tome closer, and their eyes burn gold in the fire-light.

"The islands bend to your reality. Whether your reality corroborates with true reality -- neither they nor I can discern for you. When I tell you to turn your questions inward, this is what I mean."

[savedbyasong]

Shion stood silently again, waiting and not interrupting whilst the Story Teller thought. He forced himself to stay still and meet the god's eyes even as he understands that he is close to having overstayed his welcome.

Whether his reality corroborated with true reality? Well that was a question Shion wanted to know the answer to. But the answer was given, or more accurately the solution was given: Turn his questions inward, he nodded.

"Thank you very much for answering my questions."

Even if all it had done was awaken a thousand other questions inside him, he was glad he had asked and been answered.