deernet | 04 . video, un: beacon

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04 . video, un: beacon

[ The feed opens to Ozpin's library in the rebuilt Clockhouse: gone is the overgrowth of red and blue flowers, and instead the room is a clutter of green and purple furniture, overwrought gold filigree, and a few cleverly hidden carvings of butts. He has clearly tried to position the camera away from most of the chaos, so it centers Ozpin at his desk with a stack of fairytale books. He still looks pale and gaunt with simmering Corruption; there is a glint of vampire's fangs in his polite smile. ]

Good evening, Sleepers. For those who do not know me, my name is Professor Ozpin. I teach those who would stand against monsters, and in payment I often ask for the stories they've brought from their worlds... fairy tales of heroes, villains, and fools. I find there is always a grain of truth in every fable, and certainly wisdom to be gained from the sharing of it.

I am one of those who was present in the dream called Deerington. I find that our numbers feel lower, as of late... and I fear that someday, the stories of that dream shall be lost.

A few among us may recall the August of two years ago, a festival of peace and music. We honored the death of Cynthia Sodder, now reborn as the Moon Presence, with stories for her spirit and flowers for her grave. [ He takes on a wry, more distant smile. ] To lay flowers on a grave is an old tradition indeed. But I think it's the stories that are of more use - for the one telling them, not only the one told.

Cynthia was a being caged by the stories told about her. Her daughter, Julia Sodder, suffered the same fate. Many Sleepers remember her as a child... but in this era, the people of Deer Country only seem to remember her by the nightmares she brought to life.

A very wise young man [ his smile softens ] once helped me see past that view. I thought, perhaps, in this month of quiet and reflection, we might share more hopeful stories with the girl now lost. Her spirit still dwells in Sleepy Town, and so - myself, Oscar Pine, and Paul Atreides - now propose a new festival, in the spirit of the season. We shall gather at those grand wooden gates to tell hopeful tales of heroes, of community, and of mistakes that did not mean the end.

You see... the end we chose for her was a mistake. I should like to undertake some act, however small, to ease her eternal pain.

[ that got weirdly dire, thanks Ozpin ]

You may find us at the gates of Sleepy Town for the remainder of the month, telling what stories we think a lost girl may choose to believe in. I hope to see you there.

[[ If your character would like to share a story for Julia (or another NPC), see here for player plot info! ]]

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[sansa, dressed in a black woolen gown with lady at her side, is quick to respond. she suggested to shiro that they memorialize julia, but had gotten sidetracked with the tower's illness shortly afterwards, and hasn't had the chance to do anything about it since.]

Oh! I should very much like to help, especially if she's in any pain––I had thought we might give her a memorial, so that the people here might better know who she was, and how she gave us Trench.

[she smiles ruefully.]

Perhaps she might take a little comfort in how some of us have made a home in this world.

A memorial is a very kind thought.

[ His own smile goes wistful. ]

Perhaps so. I understand there are those who wish to return to their own unfinished stories... but just as many travelers will be glad of the chance to begin a new one.

[sansa thinks about the literal mountain of difficulties awaiting her in westeros. she did promise to save the north, but...there's no use worrying about it now. her eyes lift a little and become thoughtful.]

It's strange––many of us who came to Trench after the Dream had ended were ill-used as children, chosen against our will to fulfill somebody else's stupid dreams––like Julia had been. I only thought that it must happen very often, since little girls who don't know any better are easier to control than grown people, but I wonder if perhaps she's been calling out for someone who understands, or if Mariana is trying in her own way to bring in someone who might be her friend.

[sansa is nervous speculating out loud in a public network post, but she must be able to speak with authority on this, at least, even if littlefinger's trap wasn't as much like the one laid for julia as some.]

Edited 2022-12-23 00:24 (UTC)

[ Ozpin's smile drops very quickly, at this. There is an unhappy shadow to his expression, the tightening-down of a man hearing something he himself has been accused of. Still, his tone remains steadily and distantly thoughtful. ]

Even now, we know very little about why we were chosen. But I do think it a worthy insight, that she may have called upon those she could relate to in some way... those who would be sympathetic to her curse.

[he is immediately hit in the feelings by the mention of moon presence. she was a girl before she was ...hmmm. dammit.

moon presence was cynthia and cynthia had a daughter. the stories told were affecting on a physical (and metaphysical?) level?

now he's definitely going to have to find something else to be pissy about, because moon presence is not it anymore.]

I'd like to be part of that. I don't know very much about the past, or how this all fits together, but I can speed run that in the Archives, right?

You really think telling stories might give [she has a name now.] ...Cynthia's daughter Julia ...some peace?

[it doesn't sound like he's questioning it, though. the power of stories is ...well, he gets it. this is gut punchy on a few levels, and he lacks the greater trench/dream context, but he's in.]

When you say eternal pain, do you mean she's ...in a hell?

I imagine that you could learn a great deal by coming to join us there. I would be glad to tell what I know of the tale.

[ To that last question, he goes more somber. ]

We do not know quite what has become of her. Only that her spirit seems to linger, and that she died in a state of despair... thinking herself a monster. If there is any way to bring her peace, I would think this may be the path. Pthumerians are beings that draw power from belief.

Yeah. Yes. Of course.

[a lost child who might only be lost because she died in a state of despair ...that could have maybe been prevented? ouch.]

Belief. That makes a lot of sense. So whatever I choose should be something about hope. About being wrong about monsters, maybe.

I can do that.

Stories about hope, I find, can be helpful to a great many dark circumstances.

Your participation will be appreciated.

[ Sarah looks curious: there's a little cant of her head slightly to the left, complimenting the thick white streak of hair on the right. ]

How old was she? I love this idea -- I did something similar at home, for the ghosts of children, but it's much more profound with a group and a proper festival, I've just got to decide what story to pick. Does anyone know that, her age? Maybe some of the things she liked?

[ unlike most dead children of her experience, this can't easily be asked or looked up. ]

I'm afraid those records were lost a long time ago. No more than ten, I would think, from having met her. She loved to draw, believed in heroes, and was notably fond of dogs.

…She believed in us. In our stories. It's why she brought us there. Maybe even why she made us real, if you believe that version.

Aaand we let her down. [His tone says he's not sure it's too little too late or not, but he's not against it. There's just a lot of regret to go around it seems.] It's a good idea, though. Better than anything I can think of short of building a time machine or something. I hope it does something.

We can only wish we had more to offer, but this is certainly within our power. The power of belief seems to have greater significance to her than to most.

If anyone were able to help her, it ought to be the heroes she called to this world... however rarely we may live up to that mantle.

[Well, Ozpin was up to someth... ah, this was decidedly wholesome wasn't it? She couldn't find a single fault with the whole endeavor. She wasn't as broken up about the kid's fate, but keeping her spirit happy was probably a good idea, and what was wrong with storytime.]

Our world really does go hard on the whole legends with hope.
Can't turn over a rock without some sort of "Finding light in the darkness" motif.
So they're all kind of perfect.

Though your versions might be better than mine in at least one case.
Still prefer mine, though, of the one who made a wager with the sun.

Indeed. Ours is a world not unlike this one, in many ways. With so many grave threats lurking in the darkness, there is always a need for hope.

I cannot fault you for that. It's an old fable, and perhaps an important one.

You know, the last time we all talked about fables?
I got asked what my favorite was, and I realized I never actually asked what yours is?
Somehow, seems good enough to ask. What IS your favorite?

[If he had? She'd forgotten, but it seemed the question to ask.]

I have found significance in a great many fables over the years.

[ because they're just his memoirs ]

Of late, I find myself thinking most often of The Hunter's Children: a tale of cooperation and teamwork even when we find that our old stability is lost.

You know, I have to admit that seems to fit here.
This town sort of demands a certain amount of cooperation, doesn't it?
And even more than in Deerington?

We were just running scared there sometimes.

[Ruby hadn't really stopped by the Clock House as much since the wedding. To say things were a little rocky or awkward would be an understatement.

But... Ruby could see that this was something worth doing. And if not for Ozpin then she'd be there to support Oscar and Paul. ...To the least about her own mixed feelings about Julia Sodder.

Her skin is a touch pale- a vague sign of starting corruption.]

I'll be there.

I can help if people need protection on the way there.

I think I've got a good story to tell too.

[The folklorist in him had been hooked by all of the concepts and ideas surrounding the singular character of Julia in the Archives. Equal parts history and myth, it was a challenge to tell fact from fiction. Waver wasn't certain if even the original Sleepers, like Ozpin himself, knew the boundaries.

If he seemed a little pale as well, it was perhaps a trick of the light. It certainly wasn't the beginnings of his own depression-fueled corruption. The young Lord came onto the network as Himself for once, in the shadowed wreck that passed as... his living room.]

Ozpin...

[He trailed, voice hoarse from disuse and perhaps a lack of proper self-care. The circles under his eyes seemed dark, even for him. While he didn't know any of the parties involved besides Ozpin himself, he had his Orders:

To Live... and to Witness.]

I can set up a Bounded Field for added protection for you and the others, [He volunteered, recalling what he had heard of the dangers of Sleepy Town.] It won't do much as an actual shield, but it will help hide everyone participating for as long as it holds.

If you don't mind, I would like to see what happens. As you said: stories always have some truth. This town deserves to know the truth of that girl.

Oz-- thanks.

[He wasn't going to make this private-- his role in this would be known soon enough, and he needed to get these feelings off of his chest and into the open.]

For helping set everything up, I mean. This has been bugging me for a while, and I wasn't sure what I was gonna do.

[Because his feelings about Julia had become too big to be contained by his heart alone. He was making mistakes, and his simmering guilt needed to be released before it cost him more than it already had.]

[ as usual, ryouma wants to do what he can. there is a lot here to take in, and many questions come to mind at once, but he figures the smartest thing to do is to start slow. it's pretty confusing, after all, and the short time he's been here ~~and bothered to pay attention~~ isn't very long to catch up on this place's deep lore. ]

Hello there, Professor! I'm Sakamoto Ryouma. I've only been here a couple of months, but since last month was sorta crazy, I'm not sure it counts as far as getting any better acquainted with things.

[ he didn't learn much except how awful this place can get. ]

I'm still figurin' all this out, but I've been getting bits and pieces here and there, and I'd like to help. Stories are what make me what I am, I s'pose, and as a currency goes, I'm a lot happier to share those than I am doing the whole blood... thing.

[ he's still getting used to that. ]

By the way, when ya say "those who would stand against monsters", is that a fancy way of saying you're a Hunter?

This kind of goes along with something Shiro and I had been talking about a while back. We were going to try and put together some stuff and do a thing where what happened in the Dream wouldn't be forgotten.

I mean, it's not exactly the same, but... Well, like, either way. It's something for Julia. And if it helps, well... then all the better, right?

Do you mean in the sense of a record, or a memorial? [ And, perhaps rhetorically: ] Is there a difference between the two?

We can only hope it will bring some comfort.

A bit of both, I guess. We felt it was important for people to know the whole story... so, maybe more of a record than a memorial.

But, yeah. I hope it does.

What do you mean what end you chose for her?

What end did you choose for her?

[ Ozpin is silent a moment. Then: ]

I had great sympathy for her mother, who was trapped in a state of suffering... not allowed to reach a peaceful end. I broke Cynthia's egg to free her from those bonds, and I still firmly believe that to be the kindest decision.

For Julia, however, I fear she may have received the effort to set her free as something else entirely.

I don't...I don't understand. What do you mean 'set her free'? And what do eggs have to do with anything?

Cynthia didn't lay an egg, did she? You didn't break an egg that someone laid?

...you really think that would help?

I can only hope so. She brought us into her world to be heroes, did she not? If anyone could help her spirit rest more easily, it ought to fall to those she once believed in.

[Michael snorts lightly. Yeah, fat lot of good they all did, huh? But he doesn't voice that.]

Well, it's worth a shot.

I suppose this is a start to making amends.

[Don't mind the surly tone in Maul's voice, he's still just nursing the familiar old anger at having failed to convince people to spare Julia. There's a slight pause and then he asks:]

Do you want stories from anyone?

[He's not the most popular person here in Trench and knows not everyone will think him a welcome presence during such an attempt to help the girl's spirit, especially those Deerington Sleepers which have long memories.]

[ Ozpin is not pleased to hear this voice, nor the tone in it, given that he swayed more than a few people to break eggs they might have otherwise nurtured. Still; the question gives him pause. ]

I believe that each of us can make a difference with the stories that we tell... even those among us with the most to repent for.

[ Does he mean himself? Maul? Both? ]

[Maul chose not acknowledge the ambiguous statement as it possibly applied to himself. The problem was so often Maul felt he didn't have anything to repent for. He certainly wasn't about to admit that right there on the network for all to see.]

I suppose we shall have to see if we can have an affect. A thousand cuts will still bring down a reek in the end.

[An inelegant comparison but Maul wasn't the best with words.]

I'll be there.

Same statement as Ruby. If anyone needs a hand getting out there, I'm willing to do whatever I can.

Thank you, Shiro. We may well have need of protection, given the unpredictability of the season and the city... but I suspect it will be worth it.

She's worth it.

No matter what anyone else might say. Or what the vote was.

This is a good idea. I don't know how much it'll help, but it couldn't hurt. I'll be there too.

Thank you, Willow. We can only hope that the kindness will be appreciated.

Well, and even if it isn't, I think just trying will help a lot of the people who were there. You know, because at least we're doing something to try to make things better?

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04 . video, un: beacon

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