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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 11, 2017 8:38:45 GMT 10
(OOC: this thread could take a while, especially with Shinwa on intermittently at present, and at present, Kiru's the only one on our ship who can realistically create night threads without penalty, so getting onto this now)
Having isolated himself from everyone else on the ship, even having asked Rik to give him some alone time, Kiru performs his nightly ritual...without having communicated first with Shinwa about his sleep schedule. Whether this is because he wants Shinwa to join him in the Field of Dreams, or if he is of such a singular mindset at present that he hasn't even considered that Shinwa might come too, it is unclear.
Shinwa experiences the familiar hour of nerves tingling through his body, warning him of the impending action.
At the end of the hour, Kiru falls asleep, sending his spirit to his home away from home in Yume-do.
(http://orokos.com/roll/532629# Dreamwalk successful)
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Post by Shinwa on Jul 11, 2017 11:31:35 GMT 10
At the thrumming of his nerves, Shinwa has an idea of what will happen and makes sure quickly that everyone is well disposed. But it still comes too soon and there is no one else to watch the bridge...Itsuki has not returned. He asks that Dorai take the helm for the night, if Itsuki will permit it, so everyone can get enough rest. But he hurries to his own room quickly before M'thack-kir's ritual draws him in. Once in his quarters, he changes into his plain indigo yakuta before sitting down to meditate.
He knew he didn't have much time left anyway.
There is not enough time left anyway. He did not mean to slip...but the call of Yume-do is too strong when you are drawn there by another's name. The Warren finds him slumbering with his head against the console, his arm draped protectively over the controls. That may be all he can offer.
When he awakens in the grassy fields of Yumi-do, it is with concern and looking out for his nezumi friend, rather than bemusement at this strange place, that draws him forward. But suspecting that there will be a ritual tonight, he keeps his distance until M'thack-kir is ready.
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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 11, 2017 16:08:02 GMT 10
Kiru looks a little different than when Shinwa last saw him; his golden fur is duller now, several hours of worrying triggering some form of physiological response. He stands next to Shinwa, head lowered, not interested in attempting to make eye contact.
"Shinwa witnessed death-death of M'thack-kir's family. Hra'tum-kir has been missing for years, and now we know why. Kiru needs Shinwa's help." His voice is a quiet whimper, like that of a lost child in a crowded, strange city. "If we do not both share Hra'tum'kir's story, it will be lost forever, as will Hra'tum'kir's Name."
Even here in the Realm of Dreams, a Nezumi can cry. Tears stream down his face, and he makes no effort to sniff or wipe them away.
"Kiru does not want to forget uncle."
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Post by Shinwa on Jul 12, 2017 14:01:58 GMT 10
Shinwa does not look directly at Kiru, but lays a hand on his shoulder. "Even if I do not truly understand, I can see how much this means and I will do all I can to help tell this story to your tribe so your uncle may be remembered."
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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 12, 2017 23:19:17 GMT 10
"Arigatou," he says weakly.
Then, Kiru leads the way down the hillock to the Field where his tribe congregates. He holds a white feather aloft in his paw, and it shimmers softly.
As the others in the tribe spot their brother, their happy faces turn sullen and dark. Young and old alike begin to wail with grief, and the Field itself begins to reflect the collective emotion of the local denizens; blades of grass droop, and a faint fog settles in over the communal fires.
Kiru does not greet any of his kin, intent on walking directly to the Chief's fire circle. The rest of the tribe follows, including his mother.
"M'thack-kir brings a story to be made Memory. To live on as Name."
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Post by Shinwa on Jul 13, 2017 11:01:15 GMT 10
Shinwa takes a step back, silently watching and observing the nature of the world around them as it responds to the Nezumis' emotions.
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Post by emeralddragon on Jul 15, 2017 15:55:44 GMT 10
The Chief gives a slight smile, however the sorrow that infects the rest of the tribe is clear in his eyes. They have a chance to remember this Nezumi, but the fact that they almost forgot is a reminder that some were forgotten. That no matter how many are remembered by moments like this, that are preseved to live on as Name, some are lost forever.
The Chief waves forward the other Rememberers that advisers him, a younger one that the one entrusted with the Evil Stick. The remember draws a fresh stick, currently blank, and waits for the story, for the ritual to begin.
As the stick is drawn, the crowd falls silent, all waiting to listen to the story that M'thack-kir brings. For once, not a single eye is on the human in their presence, all watch the Rememberer and the Shaman who will help them remember that which was lost.
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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 15, 2017 16:30:35 GMT 10
"Hra'tum-kir! Hra'tum-kir!" Kiru shouts as loud as he can, causing a stir and hushed gasps from some members of the tribe. One or two glance sadly toward G'hi'hi, the deceased's only living immediate relative. An older, frailer Nezumi, who uses a gnarled and chewed walking stick, approaches Shinwa, nods his head, and waves for him to take a seat with him near the other adult Nezumi who presumably have no extra duties or standing among the tribe. Kiru takes a low stance by the Chief's great fire circle, clutching the glowing white feather carefully. "Lost for three years, but not to Yesterday. Never-never to Yesterday. Hra'tum-kir journeyed alone on a raft-raft made by Hra'tum-kir's very own paws. North, far north of the Warren and Rokugan Hra'tum-kir journeyed." M'thack-kir begins to dance, casting shadows over the fire that should not exist as he does so, and causing the fire to roil and flare despite the lack of even the softest breeze here on the Field of Dreams. The shadows mingle with the fire's smoke, beginning to form the outline of a hazy coastal landscape, one Shinwa feels familiar with. Kiru continues to dance around the fire, but the smoky magic does not move further. This continues for a long, drawn out moment until the more experienced members of the audience begin to wonder what is going on, why the story is not progressing. The aged Nezumi beside Shinwa lightly taps him on the shoulder with the head of his walking stick. (OOC: Perform: Nezumi Dance, VP spent 27 orokos.com/roll/533544#)
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Post by Shinwa on Jul 16, 2017 2:02:07 GMT 10
Shinwa looks momentarily confused at the stop in the story and at being poked, but, used to masking such emotion, quickly hides it. I think they want me to keep telling the story. I can do that.He leans forward, gray eyes trying to memorize each detail within and without, of the process of this sort of Nezumi magic, as he speaks. "Hra'tum-kir knew the ways of that sea like few others, the seas and the creatures within it. The ocean was cold and silver gray and vast compared to his tiny raft, but he was not afraid. The sea was his livelihood, and gave him food, for he was skilled at catching fish from its waters." "He pulled his raft upon a shore of many round pebbles, under a gray sky, to clean a fish for eating. But the sea that had guided him turned against him in its careless strength, for a huge wave, a great tsunami driven by the shaking of the earth, roared across the ocean's surface and crashed against the shoreline. It broke his raft, it dowsed his fire, and crashed over him, dragging him to its depths." Shinwa is no trained storyteller, but he appreciates the form and tells his story extremely well, considering his lack of skill.
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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 16, 2017 9:30:12 GMT 10
"Hra'tum-kir!" M'thack-kir shouts again, continuing his dance around the fire, gaining feverish momentum now.
"Hra'tum-kir, brave voyager who was slain by a many-snake'snake-demon! Join us who remain and live on as Memory!"
Kiru flings the glowing feather into the fire, flames immediately consuming it. The smoke shifts to white, and then drifts, sinking to the ground in one concentrated place, gathering to form the outline of a Nezumi.
The smoke quickly begins to dissipate, yet the grey-furred Nezumi crreated remains...
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Post by Shinwa on Jul 16, 2017 16:13:55 GMT 10
Shinwa watches the Nezumi, especially the developing form of the grey-furred Nezumi, intently, though why a human should have such interest in this type of magic has always been a mystery.
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Post by emeralddragon on Jul 21, 2017 5:38:48 GMT 10
The Nezumi as he first appears almost feels fake, but as the story and ritural continue and his memories, his story is imprinted on the Nezumi collective, he becomes more and more solid, as his Name becomes more and more real. From the perspective of Shinwa, these creatures were seemingly creating a character from memory alone.
Bringing story to life.
To the Nezumi, no such glamorous comparison was made. This was about Name, the fundamental facet of a Nezumi. Good Name, Bad Name, in the end, it mattered little. Better to be good then bad, but far FAR better to be bad and remembered then forgotten entirely. But any Name, good or bad, as long as its story was strong enough, could be remembered, could remain in Yume-do for eternity. Through Name, a Nezumi escaped Tomorrow, and became truly part of Yesterday.
Bringing a Nezumi back from being Forgotten, helping him transition from Tomorrow to Yesterday was rare...those lost and forgotten, held in the grip of Tomorrow were rare to be remembered, and rarer still to be remembered long enough to be brought to the attention of a Rememberer. Most Nezumi get a Name great enough to pass into Yesterday, to be remembered forever more by the Rememberer, by Memory sticks and by the Shamans....OR they get forgotten. A Second chance at Yesturday was something to be celebrated...but it had been that long since something like this had happened that many didn't even know what successfully guiding the memory of a Name into the tribes memory, into Yesterday was even like.
How could one tell if this was a success...or a failure.
Then, with a raspy voice, the Nezumi sailor said, "Hra'tum-kir...remembers. Hra'tum-kir....is remembered." The Nezumi shakes his head, "Hra'tum-kir remembers the many snake'snake-demon...Hra'tum-kir remembers the darkness....remembers forgetting and being forgotten..." Again, another shake of his head, "But Hra'tum-kir...Hra'tum-kir...Hra'tum-kir remembers again." This last line has him shed his dark tone, joy radiating in his voice as his Name is remembered, not just by the Tribe, but by him, himself.
He knows who he is...he knows where he is....and he knows what just happened.
The tribe move as one, and begin to sing a joyful song, led by Hra'tum-kir as they celebrate rediscovering whats lost. The first song is almost entirely Nezumi in origin, talking about Name, the Transendants, and the blessing of being remembered. The second however, is more to Hra'tum-kir's character...
It sounds like it may have been first written by a Mantis, then modified for Nezumi speach. Some of the lines don't make much sense, as the writter, probably Hra'tum-kir, chose to go with easy to remember and fitting the tune, rather then telling a story. But these traits make the song quickly spread amoung the various Nezumi of the tribe.
The Burning Crane Tribe welcomes one more of their number to Yume-do and it does so with as much joy and love and passion as the race possesses, for to them....Hra'tum-kir may as well have just come back from the dead.
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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 21, 2017 7:05:58 GMT 10
Kiru eagerly joins in the revelry, not boasting like some lesser member of the Tribe would for having done something as important as his duty. For the first few songs, he avoids eye contact wth Shinwa, knowing there will probably be questions, ones that must be answered, but there is a whole night of dreamwalking for that.
Later, when Hra'tum-kir is officially granted a space by his sister's fire circle, M'thack-kir nods at Shinwa and walks away from the gathering, to the edge of the Field.
"Talk-talk needs to happen."
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Post by Shinwa on Jul 21, 2017 13:27:46 GMT 10
The human, Shinwa, looks as alien and out of place as an iris in a field full of violets. As the ceremony finishes and the celebrations begin, he withdraws further, eschewing all invitations to join and just watching quietly, gray eyes deep in thought.
When the celebrations draw to a quieter close and M'thack-kir beckons, Shinwa follows, content in his silence.
He nods in acknowledgement of M'thack-kir's statement, but says nothing to kick off the 'talk', allowing M'thack-kir to ask the questions that trouble him.
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Post by M'thack-kir on Jul 21, 2017 13:52:43 GMT 10
"M'thack-kir hopes Shinwa understands the privilege of being able to witness the ceremony. Of the humans, only the Ti-Ikak have been guests in the Field, aside from Shinwa, and the Ti-Ikak have never witnessed that before. Kiru asks Shinwa to never speak of it to anyone. Sacred-sacred."
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