The Storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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aftr_stories2017-08-16 04:09 pm
story_teller) wrote in aftr_stories2017-08-16 04:09 pm
Entry tags:
- final fantasy xv: ignis scientia,
- fragile dreams: ren,
- mass effect: commander shepard,
- npc: the storyteller,
- osomatsu-san: ichimatsu matsuno,
- pokemon sun & moon: guzma,
- ✖ bastion: the kid,
- ✖ billions: jack foley,
- ✖ blue exorcist: shiro fujimoto,
- ✖ captive prince: laurent,
- ✖ disney: mickey mouse,
- ✖ ffxv: noctis lucis caelum,
- ✖ ffxv: prompto argentum,
- ✖ fullmetal alchemist: edward elric,
- ✖ off: the batter,
- ✖ original: finley,
- ✖ osomatsu-san: osomatsu matsuno,
- ✖ pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- ✖ rwby: jaune arc,
- ✖ rwby: ruby rose,
- ✖ rwby: weiss schnee,
- ✖ sonic the comic: espio the chameleon,
- ✖ the adventure zone: lup,
- ✖ the adventure zone: taako,
- ✖ the walking dead (game): clementine,
- ✖ undertale: asriel dreemurr,
- ✖ undertale: chara dreemurr,
- ✖ undertale: muffet,
- ✖ undertale: sans the skeleton,
- ✖ world of warcraft: yrel
[MU] - With a different perspective
[In the late evening of the 15th, you find yourself sitting at a campfire, surrounded by total darkness. The cheerful light and warmth of the flames emcompasses but a few feet from it’s source, the rest of the world hushed and perhaps...absent entirely.
Beside you, a white(?) rabbit, almost as tall as yourself while sitting down, finishes dutifully cleaning one ear with a sigh, staring out into that pitch black with an almost forlorn expression.]
The problem, when one is a god, is that time… time is a much smaller concept, [they say.] One century, you can be at the peak of your splendor - and yet one tiny, thousand year nap, and everyone forgets about you.
I realize you all have many questions. I would like to make an attempt to address them.
I am the Storyteller. This is the name that people have given me, more or less. One might say that I should be the more universal god of this world; no matter your intentions, no matter your beliefs, you will always create a story. That is simply what a life does.
Those of you I have met are a somewhat…irritated breed. [The rabbit wiggles its nose, head tilting.] So ready to yell and not to listen; but perhaps that is simply your way.
I suppose that, given certain assumptions on certain other parties’ parts, I should make it clear to you that I am not that which has brought you here, to Ensō, to my island. To venture forth on a raft is one thing, but to awaken in another world entirely? Ludicrous. Ludicrous. The fact that you are here at all is impossible.
But you are here, aren’t you?
So perhaps we can help each other.
[Hopping round the fire, the Storyteller turns on their furry heel, peering through the flames. Looking at you- a new, perhaps angry, perhaps frightened adventurer, with your own story to tell.]
You’re all looking to explore this place; looking to feed yourselves? To survive, yes? In a few days, perhaps you could sit down and tell a tale, offer a story in my temple of your adventure so far. Your triumphs. Your failures. Friendships. Rivalries. In return, I am certain that I can assist you - in both your efforts to survive and to uncover what is behind your presence here.
I am certain if we do so, we may return you to your own stories - the ones you’re supposed to be in.
Some of us, [the rabbit continues, sounding for all the world like a preschool teacher calling attention to an unruly kerfuffle in the back of the classroom,] appear to have some additional needs. Namely, requiring regular doses of some chemical something-or-other so that your brains stay screwed on the right way. I only request one offering - one story, one complete tale of your world and the many happenings there - to supply you for all your days.
Ah. And those of you who are not quite…living, in the traditional sense. Affixed with non-living parts? You’ll find that the green pool around the back will give you the type of energy required to function. Please do not bathe in it- that’s so very unsanitary! Others may need to drink from it, you see. No, no. Simply resting nearby will suffice.
[The rabbit pauses, glances at you sidelong. Starlight and fireglow shimmer in its fur, and perhaps when you look again, there is an old, gray tome held between its paws that had not been there before. Or had it?]
As said. It is impossible for you to be here, and yet you are. Your story is about to begin anew. You and I are not the ones to decide that. I exist to perceive your story.
And you? Well, I don’t rightly know. You are here simply to live it, perhaps.
Accept my help, or don’t. At the very least… I’m sure you can think of even more questions.
[Or if you can’t, you can always end the dream by walking out of the fire’s light.]
Beside you, a white(?) rabbit, almost as tall as yourself while sitting down, finishes dutifully cleaning one ear with a sigh, staring out into that pitch black with an almost forlorn expression.]
The problem, when one is a god, is that time… time is a much smaller concept, [they say.] One century, you can be at the peak of your splendor - and yet one tiny, thousand year nap, and everyone forgets about you.
I realize you all have many questions. I would like to make an attempt to address them.
I am the Storyteller. This is the name that people have given me, more or less. One might say that I should be the more universal god of this world; no matter your intentions, no matter your beliefs, you will always create a story. That is simply what a life does.
Those of you I have met are a somewhat…irritated breed. [The rabbit wiggles its nose, head tilting.] So ready to yell and not to listen; but perhaps that is simply your way.
I suppose that, given certain assumptions on certain other parties’ parts, I should make it clear to you that I am not that which has brought you here, to Ensō, to my island. To venture forth on a raft is one thing, but to awaken in another world entirely? Ludicrous. Ludicrous. The fact that you are here at all is impossible.
But you are here, aren’t you?
So perhaps we can help each other.
[Hopping round the fire, the Storyteller turns on their furry heel, peering through the flames. Looking at you- a new, perhaps angry, perhaps frightened adventurer, with your own story to tell.]
You’re all looking to explore this place; looking to feed yourselves? To survive, yes? In a few days, perhaps you could sit down and tell a tale, offer a story in my temple of your adventure so far. Your triumphs. Your failures. Friendships. Rivalries. In return, I am certain that I can assist you - in both your efforts to survive and to uncover what is behind your presence here.
I am certain if we do so, we may return you to your own stories - the ones you’re supposed to be in.
Some of us, [the rabbit continues, sounding for all the world like a preschool teacher calling attention to an unruly kerfuffle in the back of the classroom,] appear to have some additional needs. Namely, requiring regular doses of some chemical something-or-other so that your brains stay screwed on the right way. I only request one offering - one story, one complete tale of your world and the many happenings there - to supply you for all your days.
Ah. And those of you who are not quite…living, in the traditional sense. Affixed with non-living parts? You’ll find that the green pool around the back will give you the type of energy required to function. Please do not bathe in it- that’s so very unsanitary! Others may need to drink from it, you see. No, no. Simply resting nearby will suffice.
[The rabbit pauses, glances at you sidelong. Starlight and fireglow shimmer in its fur, and perhaps when you look again, there is an old, gray tome held between its paws that had not been there before. Or had it?]
As said. It is impossible for you to be here, and yet you are. Your story is about to begin anew. You and I are not the ones to decide that. I exist to perceive your story.
And you? Well, I don’t rightly know. You are here simply to live it, perhaps.
Accept my help, or don’t. At the very least… I’m sure you can think of even more questions.
[Or if you can’t, you can always end the dream by walking out of the fire’s light.]
no subject
[At that, the Storyteller starts to look pensive.]
Does it count as living when one is imprisoned? Does one live in a prison, or do they simply exist there for as long as they are kept? I suppose that would be the best possible semantics for it. Kept. Against their will.
[Another moment's contemplation, and then the dog nods.]
No. Yes.
I live here.
no subject
Okay, back to the vagueness. Cool. Guess I'm good for now. Later. [and Y E P he's gonna just...turn and move to walk off, then.]