mythmaking | Once upon a time...

[ For the residents of Märchenstraße, and all the land surrounding it, the eighth of December was a day to look forward to. Looking at it from an outside perspective, strangers and travelers could easily assume it to be a holiday. At the very least, a day for a festival, if a modest one. A day that shopkeeps spent all morning preparing for, that all manner of creatures spent days traveling to the city to witness. They'd heard the talk that passed around, the rumors from those still left. But would it work? No one knew for sure, no matter how confident the stories seemed to be. But hope was very quickly becoming all they had left.

They had decorated the whole town. Streamers, banners, wreathes and garland made of autumn flowers, plus whatever the Fairy Godmother had cooked up. Oh, she was just giddy. No skepticism could be spoken around her, not if you wanted to escape the wrath of her wand! Rumor had it that she had caught wind of a few piglets squealing about the likelihood that their magic would fail, and that they were subsequently transformed into the band of musicians who could be found performing in the park.

Well, at least the music was festive.

Of course, the decorations weren't for the newcomers alone. Autumn was coming to a close in just a few weeks, and Old Man Winter would take the reigns like he did every year, and their weather would turn cold and harsh. The chill was already there, cool and biting when the wind picked up speed. Lady Autumn was much preferred to the citizens of the city with her gentle nature, even if she failed to show up, finishing her work in the orchards instead. That was what they liked about her.

It was mid-morning when Father Time was found outside of his tower, checking one of the numerous pocket watches he kept on his person. "Unnecessary, but comfortable," he called them, and closed the watch again. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and where empty space had been just seconds before, now they were. Sitting on benches, lying in flower patches, scattered about the city and outside of the gates in peaceful slumber. They would awaken to the bells of the clock tower. Some, to many friendly and relieved faces all around them, some to grateful ones carrying gifts of food and clothing and magic, and some to fearful, cautious faces. Regardless of how the town treated them, they would awaken to a celebration of their arrival, and choices to be made, and the books. Each and every one. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Prepared to head off on his own, Shinjiro has to pause. He feels a chill down his spine and his chest and leg begin to hurt. He turns his head, eyes narrowed, wondering what the hell brought that about.]

[The figure stares back from beneath its hood, a thin, secretive smile playing across the more visible half of its face. It makes no move toward Shinjiro, nor does it seem about to speak. At least, not without being spoken to first.]

[He doesn't say anything staring at the figure, but he does feel unease. Strange because that doesn't happen often. Odder still, he feels like he already should know who it is.]

... Who're you?

You know the answer to that, "Older Brother".

[Its voice is neither male nor female in tone, it seems. It tilts its head consideringly for a second of silence before speaking again.]

Or shall I call you Shinjiro?

[Shit... its what he thought. No one else seemed to know his name, but it would make sense this one did.]

Crowd watching? [Seems stupid to ask Death if they're expecting someone to die right now.]

In a way.

[At least Death doesn't seem like it's about to go around reaping anyone just yet. It moves closer, the fabric of its heavy cloak remaining soundless.]

I thought it... prudent to venture out today to see the new faces.

[And here he thought they would because a pocket watch cheated him out of death. Shinjiro holds his ground, eyes squinting slightly.]

So, you know why we're here?

I do.

[Its mouth twists in something vaguely like amusement as it gazes over their surroundings slowly.

Sorry, did you want an explanation with that?]

[Not surprised. Death has to be a cryptic bitch everywhere.]

I'd ask, but I don't feel like making bargains.

[It just seems more amused by his answer, really.]

I think you'll find I'm a bit different than what you're expecting, "Older Brother". I have no need to bargain with the living, whether they stand on borrowed time or not.

[His brow twitches.]

Then why are we here?

You are a temporary solution to an ongoing problem. Dear Father Time seems rather optimistic about it.

[It shrugs simply, looking unconcerned.]

It makes no difference to me, of course.

[He scoffs. Of course it wouldn't.]

What sort of ongoing problem? Is it the reason why we're in some fairy tale?

Exactly so. Do you know how many fairy tales exist, "Older Brother"?

[There's a vaguely curious tone to its voice, and it's definitely staring at him again.]

Too many. Can't say I've heard all of them personally, but they're out there. Only the more well known ones get circulated.

[Mainly that one company, but they're not accurate to the source material. Then there's Japanese folklore.]

And there you have the problem at hand. As the fairy tales fade from memory in other worlds, so too do those who live within this one. It's become worrisome enough that Father Time has decided it's time to take action.

[Death, of course, will never fade. It's not a fairy tale, after all!]

... Son of a bitch.

[This was the worst answer ever. He doesn't even know who he's supposed to represent. There are Older Brothers and Sisters in almost every fairy tale. Which one has an Older Brother with a party of animals?]

How's that going to work? I don't think people are exactly jumping to take up these positions.

[It gives a soft laugh, mouth finally curving into something more than just a vague smile or smirk.]

You took them up as soon as you awoke in this world, I'm sorry to say.

[Shit. Because he picked up the journal? Or just because he literally woke up? Why was he still hanging around Death anyway?]

If the originals disappeared, who's to say that won't happen to us?

As I said, a temporary solution.

[Its voice is almost gentle there, though not quite apologetic.]

If that happens, I imagine Father Time will simply try again.

So we're ultimately expendable. That's good to know.

[He rolls his eyes.]

You living tend to be, no matter the situation, don't you think?

[It doesn't really see any point in getting upset. Well, it does in an abstract sort of way, but sympathy is hardly something that will be coming from it anytime soon.]

If you're particularly upset, you could always speak to Father Time yourself. It's hardly difficult to find him.

[True, but there were some things that happened this year that made him think otherwise.]

The old man probably has enough people harping at him. Frankly, I need time to think.

[It inclines its head slightly in acknowledgement.]

That's kinder than many of you are going to be to him.

Tch...

[Maybe he should, but he's tired and wants to be alone to think. The animals can stay, but no one else. Not knowing how to really end this, he just nods and decides to continue on his way.]

(no subject)

nofavorites - 2013-12-09 12:06 (UTC) - Expand