[MU] - MAY STORYTELLING

[lifeaftr_mods]

In the wake of what has occurred on Ziziphus, the Storyteller has not appeared for this night's sharing of tales. The campfire is ever-present, but a morose air hangs over the flames nonetheless.



There will be no voting this time around either. It seems the Storyteller is due for a break - and so are the rest of you.



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

[shatteredlenses]

[Ignis draws in a startled breath when Gladio presses the kiss against his fingers. The gesture isn't unwelcome; he was just expecting a lot of things and none of them were that. There is just enough time for him to start feeling the warmth blossom in his chest and then Gladio launches his attack. A small shriek of surprise that Ignis will never admit to follows and then he's fighting for his life to escape...

...or at least to not send them both sprawling off the log they are seated on while he gets away from those devilish hands.]

Traitor!

[The word is gasped out between muffled bursts of laughter. Noctis. Prompto. Where are you when he needs you?]

[piercetheheart]

[Ignis is much more concerned about staying on the log than Gladio is and, honestly, getting that little shriek out of him is the most satisfying thing that's happened to Gladio since arriving. So while Ignis squirms away but not too far Gladio all but tackles him off the log, away from the fire of course but still to the ground.

And he's not about to stop tickling him, not until he begs.

Or Prompto or Noct come to his rescue.]

[shatteredlenses]

[What Ignis should be doing is attempting to get his hands on Gladio's own ticklish spots to find out if they are still ticklish or not. What he is doing, after the big lug topples them off the log, is attempting to catch his breath while not choking on laughter at the same time. His hands push ineffectually against the Shield's chest, as his face turns red from the laughter and the struggling.]

I know what you want and I refuse! I flat out refuse!

[Of course, considering how breathless he sounds, he might have no choice here very soon.]

[piercetheheart]

[There is one side effect to tumbling off the log that Gladio has not thought through. It doesn't even occur to him until Ignis' hands are against his chest, the blond flushed and breathless and Gladio's on top of him, pinning him down with his weight but still tickling. Ignis shifts under him and Gladio has to give up one hand to balance himself so he doesn't fall over on top of him.

And he is abruptly very keenly aware of their position, of how good it is to hear Ignis laugh like that and how beautiful he is, cheeks flushed and smiling and the very thing he told himself he wasn't going to do is at the forefront of his mind again. There wouldn't even be much distance to close between them.

The wiggling of his fingers slows, stops, but he's still leaning over Ignis, smiling, breathing almost as hard just from laughing at him. And there's a hesitation, one brief moment where everything sort of stops, even Gladio's breathing.

And then he sits up, chuckles again and reaches down to pull Ignis back up into a sitting position.]

At least one of us is still ticklish. [But why does he sound almost.. shy about that observation?]

[shatteredlenses]

[When Gladio has to give up one hand to balance himself and the tickling slows, Ignis almost counts it as a sign of victory. With the tickling a little less intense, his mind clears enough to think of all the ways he knows to reverse the position they are in. Moves he knows will let him give Gladio a taste of his own medicine; moves he's spent countless hours training against this very man, but as he's considering that, he suddenly realizes Gladio's stopped tickling him completely and is still above him.

Of course, that allows his mind to process even more things as it completely clears. His heart is beating hard enough it might burst from his chest, but at the same time, he's not as embarrassed as he really should be about this whole situation. Flat on his back, with the log to one side and Gladio's familiar weight above, he's sheltered from anyone who might mock him for this bit of childish behavior.

Ignis can't help but wonder if Gladio would mock him if he asked from them to stay this way just a little longer, because it feels like something is about to happen. Ignis has no idea what, though. It's just like things are paused. Waiting...

Maybe he should have read more of those silly romance novels when Gladio offered them to him.

The moment is gone about the time Ignis finishes that thought, and Gladio first pulls himself up and then pulls the advisor up after him. Ignis finds himself sighing and listing over to lean into Gladio's shoulder as he finishes catching his breath.]

We'll find out if the other is soon enough. Mark my words. Vengeance will be mine.