Oscen takes nothing from the guards, instead leaving something with them. He kneels down next to each of them, feeling a strange compulsion take over him. To each of them he whispers, "Let your dreams make you long for what my patron has to offer you..." With that, he stood up, running to catch up with Lian and help them get the bag of soil back to his makeshift home. When he catches up with Lian he says, "I dunno what this is either, Lian. However...I feel like I can help people. Make them feel better than they ever have. All they need to do is just...listen, I guess."
Liam offers no further comment, just hoists the bag.
The two of them drag the bag all the way home. They receive a few strange looks, but mostly out of mild interest or disapproval of the lack of a wheelbarrow, rather than real concern. At last, though the journey takes agonizingly long, they make it across the city and dump the bag on the ground just outside the ship-chandler.
"I'm exhausted," says Lian. "I don't suppose Stenlin would disapprove if I borrowed a corner of the backroom? I'm not asking, I'll let you do the explaining; I've done enough tonight."
It is...The Wee Hours, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, 1847at...112 Barleycorn Street(Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Oscen nods, grunting and groaning as he moved the bag back to his makeshift home. Once there, he starts to scoop out some of the dirt to move the plant to the dirt bag, letting it sit in the soil as he quickly started to give it a decent amount of water. Finally, he shifts it around to be sure it would get plenty of light through a small hole in the hut, giving a heavy sigh once everything was done. He stared at the plant as he rested, wondering what secrets it held.
Oscen finds that the plant has already almost outgrown its former home. The base of the sprout has begun to take on a darker, more bark-like appearance as well. Oscen finds a place in the back room near a shaft of light to place the plant, where it will have all it needs to live.
It's not directly in line of sight, and Mssr. Stenlin does not often need to head this far into the back room, but there does remain one fact: sooner or later, Oscen will likely have to explain why there is a giant pile of dirt in the storage room (which is not currently storing much else). That's a problem for tomorrow, however. For tonight, Oscen desperately needs some sleep.
Does he have anything left to do before settling down for the night?
It is...The Wee Hours, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, 1847at...112 Barleycorn Street(Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
With the plant set up in the back room, Oscen looks at the plant with a bit of wonder, especially with how rapid it was growing. "What do you hold in store for me..." he quietly says to it, falling asleep directly before it.
It is green here. And brown. You are home. And it/you/we are here. It stands/twists/stretches up to what cannot/will not/has never been its full height and gazes at you with an un-expression on its un-face that cannot be called unkind. Had it teeth it would bare them. Had it lips it would part them. Had it eyes they would squint in joy. And it does. And it does not. And it already has.
Hello, it says/thinks/is. You do well, childer-thing. You taste the edge of me and it is/was/will be ጎኡጎዐጮጮቹ, no? That means 'good' in your red-mind. The skin-shucking threshold will be approached in few-time, but I will speak/laugh/whisper in men's tongue until then/when?/soon.
My/your/our tongue/tooth/claw is in your world. It grows/dances. But not with water (hateful thing), not with sun (hateful thing), not with earth (hateful thing). Their need is a regret, but my/your/our tongue/tooth/claw is of your/my worldflesh as much as it of my/your ኡልህልዪኡጎኡረቹክ .
People. You/I/we must have them. The caged thing in their spines called 'soul' (hateful thing) is real in worldflesh and ኡልህልዪኡጎኡረቹክ . Bridges the gap.
Find them. Teach them. Dance with them.
Show them Verdure, everlasting.
Lian has time for a single question or action in this non-place, this ኡልህልዪኡጎኡረቹክ. What will he do?
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Oscen was left somewhat stunned and scattered by the phrasing the being had been using. Skin-shucking? Tongue/Tooth/Claw? It was a bit confusing. However, Oscen suddenly makes sense of it: the seed and plant. It was the piece that was crucial, but in needed souls to grow and harvest. How does he make it grow? How does he dance with everyone…that is what he needed to know. “The dance that I am to teach them…how do I do it?” He asks, trying to return a similar appearance to the being to try and bring himself more in line with it.
You dance already with me/you/us. You perform oblations and give unto me/you/us. Use art of tongue and tooth, speech, you call it, to bring others into the dance. A dance of worldflesh, not of ኡልህልዪኡጎኡረቹክ. You have a word for it.
It pauses. For a long time. For a second, the dance falters. Then for the first time, it truly speaks, in words alien to it, which gum up the mouth it doesn't have.
"C-ult."
You know this word as a dirty one, which speaks of devil-worship and evil practices, human sacrifice and depravity. Those who give fealty to the Beast in the Bellows, or the Thunderhead, or the Hunger of Forgotten Places. Evil, evil evil.
You know of this word as one spoken by those who give fealty to the Saint Behind the Glass, who do not refer to themselves by it. Glass houses throw stones.
You know of this word by its twisting, dancing roots: Cultivation. Culture.
Worship. Divinity.
Words are dangerous things when twisted. When given implications that are not their own. The bark-skinned thing here is not telling you to perform acts of depravity, to let blood and guts fly, no. It is asking you to cultivate. To teach other dancers like yourself. To bring in others, to grow its foothold in this world.
The dance will come to them, if you are its messenger, implies/understands/intones the bark-encrusted conductor.
And then Oscen wakes up.
It is...Morning, Monday, 6th of Augensrain, 1847at...112 Barleycorn Street(Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Oscen startled awake with that, letting out another sigh of both relief and enjoyment at the dream. The dance felt more relaxing and peaceful to go to when he slept, as he hoped in the back of his mind that he might go there or even take others there in the future. It was at that thought that he recalled both the tree and Lian, first looking to ensure that the tree was OK & then going to find wherever Lian was.
(Sorry, I've been sick all week and forgot to update you)
Lian is gone, along with their stuff. It seems they left some time before Oscen woke up.
The tree, meanwhile... well, it can only now truly be called a tree. Its trunk has shot up, and much broader than Oscen might have expected. At its base it splits into a crown of fat roots that burrow into the soil, not unlike a mangrove. Leaves have sprouted, though they are unlike any leaf Oscen has seen. Perfectly round and razor-thin. If he were to run a finger along the edge, it might cut him. A small bushel of them emerge from the tiny branches of the young tree, fanning out and gently waving in a breeze that is not there.
It is...Morning, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, 1847at...112 Barleycorn Street(Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Seeing the tree left Oscen in utter shock, his jaw nearly dropping in surprise at what he saw. In the moment, he fell to his knees before it and bowed, seeing it now as a sort of shrine to the one he was to form a cult for. A Cult...it somewhat shook him to think about it. At the same time, however, he felt such a deep desire to bring it to fruition. To help those who needed relief. To feed his hunger and to fill himself with joy again. That was when an idea struck him. He looked up at the tree and searched for food. In his mind, Oscen thought to himself, 'So many here are hungry. So many are in need to be filled. Perhaps what might help them to join in the dance is to provide to those who hunger first, then entice others with the beauty of your music and dancing. That is how we can show people Verdue...Does this plan suit you, oh ancient one?'he asked the tree, not realizing his own internal thinking had begun to turn more into a prayer format.
Oscen takes nothing from the guards, instead leaving something with them. He kneels down next to each of them, feeling a strange compulsion take over him. To each of them he whispers, "Let your dreams make you long for what my patron has to offer you..." With that, he stood up, running to catch up with Lian and help them get the bag of soil back to his makeshift home. When he catches up with Lian he says, "I dunno what this is either, Lian. However...I feel like I can help people. Make them feel better than they ever have. All they need to do is just...listen, I guess."
"Hunh."
Liam offers no further comment, just hoists the bag.
The two of them drag the bag all the way home. They receive a few strange looks, but mostly out of mild interest or disapproval of the lack of a wheelbarrow, rather than real concern. At last, though the journey takes agonizingly long, they make it across the city and dump the bag on the ground just outside the ship-chandler.
"I'm exhausted," says Lian. "I don't suppose Stenlin would disapprove if I borrowed a corner of the backroom? I'm not asking, I'll let you do the explaining; I've done enough tonight."
It is... The Wee Hours, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, 1847 at... 112 Barleycorn Street (Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Oscen nods, grunting and groaning as he moved the bag back to his makeshift home. Once there, he starts to scoop out some of the dirt to move the plant to the dirt bag, letting it sit in the soil as he quickly started to give it a decent amount of water. Finally, he shifts it around to be sure it would get plenty of light through a small hole in the hut, giving a heavy sigh once everything was done. He stared at the plant as he rested, wondering what secrets it held.
Oscen finds that the plant has already almost outgrown its former home. The base of the sprout has begun to take on a darker, more bark-like appearance as well. Oscen finds a place in the back room near a shaft of light to place the plant, where it will have all it needs to live.
It's not directly in line of sight, and Mssr. Stenlin does not often need to head this far into the back room, but there does remain one fact: sooner or later, Oscen will likely have to explain why there is a giant pile of dirt in the storage room (which is not currently storing much else). That's a problem for tomorrow, however. For tonight, Oscen desperately needs some sleep.
Does he have anything left to do before settling down for the night?
It is... The Wee Hours, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, 1847 at... 112 Barleycorn Street (Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
With the plant set up in the back room, Oscen looks at the plant with a bit of wonder, especially with how rapid it was growing. "What do you hold in store for me..." he quietly says to it, falling asleep directly before it.
(Big cool dream-post coming up, so it might be a bit since I'm hopping on a plane tomorrow)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
(Sounds good)
(sorry for the extra delay, moving and arranging stuff has been time-consuming)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
(All good. Take whatever time you need.)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Oscen was left somewhat stunned and scattered by the phrasing the being had been using. Skin-shucking? Tongue/Tooth/Claw? It was a bit confusing. However, Oscen suddenly makes sense of it: the seed and plant. It was the piece that was crucial, but in needed souls to grow and harvest. How does he make it grow? How does he dance with everyone…that is what he needed to know. “The dance that I am to teach them…how do I do it?” He asks, trying to return a similar appearance to the being to try and bring himself more in line with it.
It is... Morning, Monday, 6th of Augensrain, 1847 at... 112 Barleycorn Street (Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
(Correction, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, it's not letting me edit for some reason)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Oscen startled awake with that, letting out another sigh of both relief and enjoyment at the dream. The dance felt more relaxing and peaceful to go to when he slept, as he hoped in the back of his mind that he might go there or even take others there in the future. It was at that thought that he recalled both the tree and Lian, first looking to ensure that the tree was OK & then going to find wherever Lian was.
(Sorry, I've been sick all week and forgot to update you)
Lian is gone, along with their stuff. It seems they left some time before Oscen woke up.
The tree, meanwhile... well, it can only now truly be called a tree. Its trunk has shot up, and much broader than Oscen might have expected. At its base it splits into a crown of fat roots that burrow into the soil, not unlike a mangrove. Leaves have sprouted, though they are unlike any leaf Oscen has seen. Perfectly round and razor-thin. If he were to run a finger along the edge, it might cut him. A small bushel of them emerge from the tiny branches of the young tree, fanning out and gently waving in a breeze that is not there.
It is... Morning, Tuesday, 7th of Augensrain, 1847 at... 112 Barleycorn Street (Stenlin's Ship-Chandler), Rote District, Atrament, the Empire.
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
Seeing the tree left Oscen in utter shock, his jaw nearly dropping in surprise at what he saw. In the moment, he fell to his knees before it and bowed, seeing it now as a sort of shrine to the one he was to form a cult for. A Cult...it somewhat shook him to think about it. At the same time, however, he felt such a deep desire to bring it to fruition. To help those who needed relief. To feed his hunger and to fill himself with joy again. That was when an idea struck him. He looked up at the tree and searched for food. In his mind, Oscen thought to himself, 'So many here are hungry. So many are in need to be filled. Perhaps what might help them to join in the dance is to provide to those who hunger first, then entice others with the beauty of your music and dancing. That is how we can show people Verdue...Does this plan suit you, oh ancient one?' he asked the tree, not realizing his own internal thinking had begun to turn more into a prayer format.
(Roll Arcana!)
"Ignorance is bliss, and you look absolutely miserable."
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