[OPEN] The world is spinning endlessly

[spaghettification]

Who: Siebren and friends
What: October Shenanigans
When:...October? Possibly also November
Where: Siebren's home, the
Warning(s): Potential cannibalism mentions, unreality, mental unwellness, memory manipulation (self-inflicted), more in comment titles

1. This is the sound of energy [Gala Aftermath]
You can't believe how easy it is. You just have to go... a little crazy. And then, suddenly, it all makes sense, and everything you do turns to gold.
He calls into work the morning after the gala. And a couple more days beyond that. In that time, he is
metamorphosing
assimilating
unpacking
digesting everything that occurred that night. He stays at home, alone, trying to avoid everyone and everything.

much. It's too
The fragments of past that he's avoided for their sharpness rotate in him mind, turning their points toward him, crystal shards of time that threaten him. And yet, some part of him reaches out with Pandoran curiosity, like Sleeping Beauty toward the spindle. What he pricks isn't a finger, but he feels the pain just as instantly. And yet, and yet...

too much. It's
There it is, the multiple choice past solidifying in fractals, like frost spidering across a windowpane. Siebren has no way of knowing whether this is a correct past, but it is now his, memories feeling more stable than they have in years. Some things are lost, others are fake, but the end result is more real than anything he's been able to grasp before.

For three days, anyone approaching Siebren's home for any reason may hear, even from outside the building, the sounds of someone having a Bad Time™, with pained screams or furniture being thrown against walls as his gravitational powers pulse and fluctuate. For three days, he struggles.

And then, there is silence.


Traveling through the galaxy [The Library; CW vertigo]
Siebren returns to work. Nothing is wrong. He is fine. Can't you see how fine he is?

Somewhere, a book falls off a table and he flinches. And then, to anyone within a certain distance of him, the floor seems to fall away, in a dizzying cloud of galactic light, just for a moment, before he regains control, glancing around to see if anyone noticed.


Into eternity [Stargazing Night]
A notice goes up on the bulletin board, and letters are issued to penpals with explicit invitations: Crane's Ridge, 9pm on a given night. Bring snacks, drinks, something to sit on. Siebren will have his telescope and star charts.

He's brought some cheese and crackers and apple butter himself, as well, and is floating beside his big brass telescope, dressed in a comfortable sweater. For the moment, he is completely at ease. For the moment, nothing could possibly bother him.

Right?


A One Note Symphony [Wildcard]
Find me on Discord to plot, PM me, or just throw a thing!

Comments

[spaghettification]

"The taste is not so bad. It's the texture, though. Waxy, like colorful sprinkles or very cheap chocolate."

Cheap white chocolate.

[blindwatchersees]

Dreadfully unsatisfying, that. Nothing worse than craving a bit of cocoa and only getting a mouthful of sweetened sour milkfat, half-grade bean butter, and disappointment.

[spaghettification]

"I don't suppose you have any tricks for getting the taste out of one's mouth?" It's mostly a joke, but only mostly.

[blindwatchersees]

Wash your beard? No, wait, that isn't how your body works. Hmm... cup of tea, maybe?

[spaghettification]

"Watch it turn into Snapple when I taste it." He rolls his eyes slightly, lifting the butterfly toward his shoulder. "I think there's some in the break room."

[blindwatchersees]

Should we go get it?

Ambiguous here if "we" is the butterfly and Siebren, or a multitude of butterflies offscreen.

[spaghettification]

"If that form is capable of it, that would be kind of you. But you might need to put on a body for that." More of a body than the swarm.

[blindwatchersees]

Or we could have it come to you.

There's a rapid tap-tap-tap suddenly coming from the break room, and a tea cup of unusual fashion, with scrabbling fingers protruding from its underside, scuttles into Siebren's reach.

[spaghettification]

"That...is adorable." Siebren holds out a hand for the cup, in invitation. "I'm sure some people would find it creepy, instead."

[blindwatchersees]

A little here, a little there.

The teacup crawls into Siebren's hand and settles there, content.

It's just a manifestation, so it's not nearly as sweet as my dear teaset Pliny. I wish you could meet him. But, ah, then I'd have to steal him from me, and I'd be very upset about that.

A pause.

He wasn't always a teaset, you know.

[spaghettification]

"Like Pliny the Elder? What was he before?" Siebren sips the tea with a bit of a sluuuurp.

[blindwatchersees]

"Which one? I've met plenty of old men named Pliny. It's a popular name among Imperials. Ah, but to answer your second question, he was a Dunmer who thought he could cross me. I turned him into a tea set for a year as punishment. Gave him the mind of a tea set, too. Well, once I was satisfied he'd learned his lesson, I gave him back his old form. Six months later, however, he called upon me and admitted he found the life of a tea set far more fulfilling. So, Pliny the Tea Set he became, once and for all, and it's been a charmed life for him since."

[spaghettification]

"Doesn't sound like a traditional Dunmer name to me." He realizes even as he's saying it that he's managed to internalize some of the Dunmer language, at least the common phonemes, by talking to Drelasa and listening to her sing. "That aside, though, I think I can understand why it would be fulfilling."

[blindwatchersees]

He had a different name as a Dunmer. But once he wasn't a Dunmer, it felt more fitting to give him a tea set's name.

I could turn you into a tea set, too, given a little time.

[spaghettification]

Siebren thinks about that for long enough to be serious.

"I'm not sure that's what I need in the long term. And...I'm not sure that's the sort of relationship I want with you, especially right now."

[blindwatchersees]

“No, I don’t think that’s quite what you’re suited for.”

He seems to now be considering exactly what it is Siebren would be best suited for.

[spaghettification]

He's not sure how to feel under the scrutiny, ducking his head slightly.

"Whatever I am suited for, perhaps I'll find it in myself to achieve. Maybe."

[blindwatchersees]

I am curious, though.

The butterflies go back to being butterflies (the author is tired and briefly forgot that they’re butterflies).

Close your eyes. Try to imagine what it’s like to be a tea set. I want to know what you think.

[spaghettification]

It is easy for him to imagine, easier than it might be for most people. The serenity of knowing you are both ornamental and useful and being prized for both. It's a little like being a prodigy as a child, something to show off and cherish and protect. Nothing more demanded of him than to be perfect and well behaved. Occasionally, he earns a pat on the head for this.

He wants to be told he has been a good boy, still, sometimes.

[blindwatchersees]

It’s still the praise that matters to you, Hm? Not even respect, necessarily, but a sense of worth. A desire to be seen in a positive light, or to be positive you see light, perhaps? What is it you prize of yourself, that all this waxy saccharine fluff can’t take away the luster from?

[spaghettification]

"I used to be able to be proud of my mind." But that stopped being true even before arriving on this island. Lucheng and Talon took a hammer to his self-esteem, convinced him he was broken, and maybe they were right.

[blindwatchersees]

What’s not to be proud of now? You are quite a brilliant man, I think. I enjoy that you think deeply about things that others wouldn’t spare a moment on. Being a tea set, for example. Thinking odd thoughts leads to new ideas, and those are always the most exhilarating ideas.

[spaghettification]

"Who wouldn't think about being a tea set?" He seems legit confused that some people wouldn't take the time to imagine it. "Unless they think it would be, somehow, beneath them."

[blindwatchersees]

Most mortals don't take the time to think about things outside themselves. Oh, it's not that they're not capable, but much of the time they need to be prompted to do so. It's more comfortable, I think, to stay within oneself. Only problem is that it can get rather cramped in there, and that makes one rather irritable.