*A formless plushie spontaneously materializes itself into existence. Its form changes depending on who is holding it to give the proper amount of cuddle comfort. It is not sentient, and is incapable of turning into anything harmful. Enjoy!*
Oh... that is very kind of you.
(Maize holds a plushie that turns into a giant lightbulb. it does not glow but it still warm to the touch. Maize holds it close.)
This... I did not think I needed it so much. You're a kind stranger.
just 2 be clear i dont ONLY mean each flower species. i mean each and every individual flower on earth . 6 trillion odes for 6 trillion dandelions please. they deserve nothing less.
Of... a man taking notes on a traveling journal. A worn down book, held tightly the way one holds their child.
The people I would encounter would often ask for my powers, or some wisdom... And yet that time he simply asked that same question you bring now.
It was... quite challenging to choose, back then.
But now the answer seems clearer.
Let me tell you of that same memory...
Would you believe if I said that there were once in the past, celebrations of glenfolk alongside us spirits?
Traditions have changed with time, of course. Not because of any... strife. Rather... lack of numbers, I suppose.
The speed of our world has done its harm, one could say. Busier people, busier lives... consequences beyond our foresight.
That is... less important for the story.
Solstice celebrations were the most awaited ones, towns would journey into the deeper forests, and we'd open paths for them as well.
I was young, back then. Not strong enough to shifts paths. It was said young spirits were prone to wander off, and I was no exception. Knowing when to set your roots on the ground was a stage in my life I wasn't ready to live yet.
I tread far, far away from the gathering that day. I found a rocky river.
And I found a feathered youth. I...
Oh... my memory is weak.
I... remember that she had a huge bag on her back. woven with plant fiber and ram wool, as was common at the time. Hers had a fish pattern.
There was a cliff between us. Not on the earth, but perhaps on our lives... I could feel the vines crawling on its rocky surface, on my end. I suppose this scared her. And she ran off.
Intrigued, I went after her, crossing the gap in one leap. There was an attempt, truly, but... The landing... well. I would heal fast, but strong as my kind may be, our youth are fragile as well.
The feathered one stopped, dropping her bag, and rushed towards me. I remember her picking me up, with some struggle. She sat me by a nearby tree, and made an attempt to mend my wound. Her fear returned.
I asked her, "what would frighten her so?"
She admitted, she had never seen one like myself. She lived by the underground village, she had a small family. They grew corn, and fished by the river.
I had never seen one such thing as an underground village, or a small family when mine was so big. We grew all sorts of things, and we fed the creatures around.
As we spoke, I took in the sunlight, using my renewed energy to create wraps around my injured limb. Soon enough I was walking again... Not without trouble, but taking steps nonetheless.
My feathered companion gasped in surprise. She invited me, eager now. A bridge had been built over the cliffs of our lives... I accepted, curious and daring.
The town had two entrances, bells hanging by the gates, with stairs and gently sloped paths leading underground. Fireflies filled the place, thriving in the dim light inside.
She led me through the labyrinth of passages. Admittedly, there were many open spaces, letting sunlight shine through, but far was it from what I was used to.
Her family... was a man. Say some that a family is a chain. I would say a family is a hand being held by another. This man was not her father, her uncle, or her elder. He was a fisherman that could fish no more, aging as he was.
He said today was a pleasant day, he walked slow steps and made it to the garden. He would later go back to his nest, when he felt was time.
I asked if he ever went outside the town, if he ever missed the wind blowing over the sea of times past.
He said yes.
He said he missed the fireflies too, as they wouldn't go far from the coast. He said he'd miss the days when it was night and the night as dawn arrived.
He said he never missed family anymore. He never missed belonging somewhere.
I shared the day with the two of them. He shared stories I cannot retell faithfully. My feathered friend wove a bracelet for me. I watched over their plants, making room for each root in the fertile land.
Traditions of Solstice had been more of a distant tale for them. It was a day like many others. But the words spoken and the people met would be unique to that day.
By the underground, light finds its way. And in such a way. I eventually found myself there every time I missed the friend and the fireflies.
And it was that way how I decided to belong there, and miss it no longer.
Disclaimer: this post is a reminder and explanation of tacit rules, and not a mandate or an accusation, it's just to keep things tidy.
So, some fandoms have separate tags for roleplay so they do not use the main tag. The OneShot community has the "os game rp" tag for all roleplay related things, while "oneshot game" is for general content.
The idea is that if someone specifically looks for roleplay they go to "#os game rp" but for art and other general fandom content they go for "#oneshot game". It helps to keep posts on topic, and prevents the spam of multiple asks per day from blogs that most folks browsing the main "oneshot game" tag have no context for.
The original creation of the tag was for it to be mutually exclusive from the main one. Some folks do not wish to engage in RP altogether, but some do only with selective blogs, and some simply don't want other original posts to be buried over roleplaying.
But OP, how will I get myself known to the wider community?
Start interacting with fellow blogs or
Create an intro post and THAT one can be main tagged.
I understand the desire for interaction, it's what keeps blogs like ours alive, but be mindful of the tags you use.
TL;DR: Please stop tagging RP asks as "oneshot game" and use "os game rp" instead for the wider RP community.
I'm open to listening to other opinions as well, thanks for your time.
Greetings. You may call me the Mapmaker. I’m on a journey to gather information about all currently known timelines and their residents for…
…Oh. It is quite dark here. Surely not the ideal place for a spirit of greenery to reside.
Interview: Maize
[START]
⠀
If I may ask, why have you been rooted in such a place, devoid of any light? Surely your world has had its sun returned, right?
Ah, a journalist? It is little I can offer, I'm afraid. Perhaps our voices shall be enough, for this. I may... not have all the answers you need, inquisitive one, ...but I will attempt, nonetheless.
This place may be dark. But sometimes it gifts us light of sources unknown to myself.
It is where I was taken, after... well. After I aided our savior, with the strength I had left. I was blessed to see them one last time, at the end of their journey but...
My work in this world is over. This is a place to rest, or perhaps it's what comes after it is all over.
All cycles come to an end, and so does mine. It will make room for new growth, of course.
Time? I can't be sure... but I believe I have a way to check for this... In this... computing machine I found with another person here. Let me ask her.
Oh....
She says it's... been four years.
George seems distressed about this. I don't think she would accept an interview.
She is the first soul I have maaged to keep around. I don't want to scare her away.
There is a.... very long life to look back on. But I can say that my laat efforts did not go to waste... if that is where my path has led me, then it is a good one.
Even here... I don't feel truly gone. Something else... persists. If there is a new path to take, then I will take my roots there.
