wethecreature
New member
What’s your IGN?:
wethecreature
What's your Discord Tag?:
wethecreature
Do you have any alternative accounts?:
rodentology
Do you have a functioning microphone?:
I prefer not to use a microphone for personal reasons but will always be willing to listen in on VC and chime in through chat.
Have you worked in teams like this before?:
Yes, I have experience working in teams a lot, especially in roleplay settings to plan large-scale events and RP as event characters. Previously I've also led player-ran groups on numerous servers. I know how to work with others and also do my part as a team member.
Do you have any previous experience?:
I do have previous experience, but not on the foundational scale this team is going for (planning the foundational events and lore of the server), which is an opportunity that really excites me since I've never taken on something so challenging before.
What do you believe is your writing strong suit?:
I've been told that some of my best writing strong suits are related to writing lore, atmosphere/description, and dialogue. If I were to choose any of those that I think I'm the strongest in I think it'd be description and atmosphere. I have a lot of fun writing descriptions, not just of characters, but also of places, since building the imagery for a location is a really interesting process- messing around with different words and ideas to paint the environment, especially ones that are on the creepier side. One thing that I think is an underappreciated strength in writers is also brainstorming. I love brainstorming so goddamn much (an unhealthy amount). Like... I have a million brainstorming partners. I go feral when I brainstorm, and I'm always willing to go feral brainstorming with anyone who wants to! I think it's really important to have someone willing to bounce ideas off of you in a team setting, so I think that's something I could offer.
Why are you interested in joining the Lore Team?:
I've never gotten the opportunity to work with a team that has such ambitious goals and the potential to be truly challenging (and possibly changing) for my writing skill. Being able to offer my creative skills to the server in its beginning development sounds really incredible and is something I've always wanted to do. Plus- I really love the vibe of the application and the server in general, so it's something I'd love to become more involved with!
How did you learn about the server?:
I learned through a friend of mine, Grimsky, who told me about the server since she thought I'd like it. I love spirit related writing and that kind of vibe so... yeah, thought I'd check it out!
What unique contributions can you bring to the server?:
I am very focused on worldbuilding and lore that creates character conflict and interaction. I'm very familiar with how important conflict is to a story, and if I were on the team, I'd be dedicated to forming a narrative that allows characters to investigate and explore mystery and form conflict over what secrets are obscured or what things might be true.
Write a short story of a Self-Made Yokai you can find roaming throughout the island:
It is better to be feared than loved...
Hōnen stepped back from Tsumiyaku-no-Kami’s shrine, cleaning his chopsticks and rice bowl with a silk fukusa, before he shook the cloth of his grime. He spared one last glance for the altar before he turned his back, slowly creeping through the emerald rice fields like a despondent wraith, the sound of his footstep swallowed by the spongy mud below.
For days and days, it had rained, consuming the island and flooding Hōnen’s route with muck. He took a long pilgrimage, from shrine to shrine, to seal this grief that he had held for months. Not long before his travel began, his mother had an untimely passing, having taken ill after a bad storm. He could not forget her pale form, clammy and gaunt, unable to rise from her bed.
The monk believed that he would take solace in the company of the Kami, so he ate a bowl of rice at each of their ruins. Despite the incessantly bleeding gash that ran down his forearm, he continued, from the sun’s first stirring at dawn to its rest at twilight. For all his prayers, tears still ran down his face, staining his cheeks with rivers of salt.
As he wandered the unpaved road to the island’s grand monastery, the last of the sun’s light disappeared beneath the towering mountains. “Goodnight,” he whispered to an empty sky, as if to mark Amaterasu’s departure.
The night’s soft silence faded at the sudden rhythm of insects and frogs throughout the fields, as though all the animals had awoken to sing Hōnen their song, to pay recompense for the quiet before. And below all the ambience was the sound of plucking, not on an instrument, for it wasn’t a song- it was just the plucking of one taut string.
He continued onwards, wiping his swollen eyes. And then finally, at the sight of a shape forming from the darkness, he halted, raising his lantern. “Good evening,” he greeted the other pilgrim, who stopped and gave a cordial bow.
The pilgrim was a withered old woman, thin frame pressed onto bulging eyes and sharp bones. Etched into her face was a warm, gaping smile. The plucking continued as her hands weaved through an entanglement of silken thread, which wrapped itself around her black robes. “Hello, pilgrim,” she responded raspily, raising a tied hand in greeting. “Who has you on the road so late?” she asked.
“Myself,” he laughed bitterly. “I am travelling from shrine to shrine.” He removed a handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing it on his bleeding wound.
Her gaze flitted over his red eyes and scarlet arm, frowning. “You seek spiritual guidance?” she asked, still spinning the thread as she spoke.
Hōnen nodded. “Ever since my mother passed, I’ve felt lost... disoriented,” the monk admitted, lowering his head for a moment. “I am Hōnen. You are?” When he looked back, the woman had bridged the gap between them.
“Does it matter?” She reached out towards his arm, her cloth still spinning between her fingers even as she ran them along the edge of his cut. Strands of silk slowly abandoned her hand, following the ridges and currents of the blood as it shifted in the pit of the wound. The strings slowly began to cross over each other, running under and over, under and over, and slowly settling into the wound, the edges of the silk engraining themselves into Hōnen’s flesh.
He stared with awe that slowly melted into disgust as the feeling of the silk fused with his skin and cleansed his gash. It began to grow viscerally painful, just before The Seamstress removed a rusted scalpel from her robe and sliced the excess off. Darkness crawled at the edge of the monk’s vision with the sickening shifts of the strings. Then he collapsed.
He awoke feeling different. The pain of his cut had ceased, and his eyes no longer burned of salt. The skin that once housed a wound was now replaced with a silver layer that looked like cloth but felt only like firm skin. Strangest of all, a film covered the corners of his vision. Weakly dabbing at it, his hand fell with abject horror. Silk now sealed his tear ducts.
The woman, who remained standing just at the edge of darkness, looked down at him as he sat on his knees. “What have you done to me?” he cried.
“I have healed your imbalance. You keep your blood, and you keep your tears. You have grieved for too long. He who cannot cry cannot mourn,” she whispered, turning her back to him and disappearing into the tall grass of the rice paddies. All she left in her wake were fabric flowers.
The man sat still and broken while the insects hummed around him. The rice stalks shifted and brushed against each other as the wind passed over and spirits pranced beneath their cover.
It is better to be feared than loved... if you cannot be both.
Write a quick event based on Japanese pop-up cafes/restaurants/stores (Promotional cafes based on media such as anime, gaming, spirits, etc.):
In the back storage room of Norowarejima's local antique shop, the sparks of a newly lit flame burst to life, the wave of fresh warmth cascading along the room's walls as hundreds of candles were lit, filling the narrow room with a flood of herbal, woody, and sweet aroma. In the back of the room, an old man, Taro, sat next to a vat of hot wax, sets of fragrances and colourings on his small table.
As you approached, Taro rose his head and offered a cordial nod of his head. "Welcome in! Please, take a look at the selection and tell me if there's anything you're curious about." He returned to a vat of red wax as he lowers a bamboo ladle in, pouring it into a glass mold with a wick at its center. The wax swirled around the wick before settling. You took a look at the scarlet candle he was crafting and leant forward, taking a sniff. It smelt sweet, like a tea ceremony's wagashi treats.
Taro turned as you stood back up and looked at the drying wax. "Don't make ripples in the wax with all your sniffling," he teased. "My red candles symbolize passion and strength for the spirits of our loved ones as they cross into Yomi. The intention behind the candle's colour will affect the spirit's journey. A candle of green will inspire growth within your ancestor's spirit. Even in death, one can still change and learn."
You smiled, taking a red candle from one of the shelves and placing it on his table. "You'd like this one? Wonderful. It'll be five thousand yen," he said, holding his hand out for the money. As you removed your wallet and passed the yen across the table, he pulled out a small utensil and pointed it's sharp edge at the dried wax. "Do you want a name inscribed?"
Event:
For a few hours, a special pop-up store will open in the back of Norowarejima's antique shop, with a man selling candles in celebration of the soon to come annual Byakuyakoku Candle Festival, one that recognizes the passing of loved ones and presents sets of beautiful candles to illuminate the mountainside. Taro will tell characters stories of his business and his travels around Japan, and sell a variety of candles to players for two hours or so. There will be numerous colours each with a different name to represent their meaning.
How would you write the atmosphere of the image provided below? (Byakuyakoku Shinto Monastery):
(Must be at least 200 characters long, describing the characteristics, atmosphere as well as including some personal ideas about Byakuyakoku.)
The unending flurry of snow that nestled on the hallowed wood of Byakuyakoku's many shrines was, though bitter, not unwelcoming. The cold was more an invitation than the warning, begging priests to fill its empty swathes of land. It invited them to bring the heat of their lanterns and altars. Even so, the warmth of the tea house was quite the escape, allowing one to relax into comfortable heat and take in the ancient pillars that held the shrine with steadfast resolve, even as many were splintered by rusted coins left by passing tourists.
The scent of steeping tea wafted through the monastery, swirling through the pale pink leaves while Miko danced around through the halls, setting plates of steaming food down before the stone figures of the Kami. While the rest of Norowarejima felt tense and off, as though left in the wake of some horrible past, the monastery was, with certainty, holy, a sense of reverence filling even the most unfeeling of visitors.
All, even banished spirits, are surely sad to leave.
You have been tasked to write an in-lore influential character in the history of Norowarejima. Who and what would you create? Provide some insight on the character!:
(e.g., A previous Journalist from 30 years ago named Nagasaki Itto).
Sandals clapped against the dull, sinking wood of a desolate classroom, passing by tables all lined up in a perfect, unchanging symmetry. The instructor, Lady Mao Shio, drifted through the classroom, all silent save for the swaying of her kimono's edges and the scrape of her shoes dragged against the floorboards. The students in this classroom were far from scholars, not even high schoolers. They were but children, who wore tightly seamed kimonos and whose shoes were slid neatly into a rack at the front of the room. They were not in a vast school building, but the oppressive walls of the Shio Manor's guest room, where they were taught proper etiquette and their duties as children of nobility.
In the summer of 1897, Lady Shio, after an unsavoury dinner with one of the island's many wealthy clans, offered Norowarejima's rich her petty rebuke, a prestigious class of the 'noble arts'. With the families courteously accepting, Mao tore down the guest bedroom's extravagant tapestries and replaced them with schoolroom chairs and tables. And from then, the children would be tyrannically trained in proper eating, greeting, and Shinto ceremonies. She was consistently regarded as a 'most informative yet draconic' lecturer.
Students who acted out would be punished severely, often sequestered to an empty, cramped room for the duration of the school day or sent to the abandoned, dust caked wings of the old manor.
As demand for Shio's knowledge became widespread throughout not only nobility, but peasants who wished to climb the ladder of wealth, she expanded her small lectures into a small school, the Shio Academy. The academy finished its construction in 1901, now bustling with students from across the island seeking instruction in core subjects and in the noble discipline Mao had originally taught. With more enrollment came the need for more teachers, and so Mao hired three teachers to lecture for each subject.
By 1903, the need for further administration led Lady Shio to take the formal title of headmistress and hire subordinates to manage different factors of the academy, which slowly morphed over the next decade into a true school, with a board of leadership and even official extracurriculars for students. Headmistress Shio continued on in her role for the next decades to see the Shio Academy morph into something much larger, the Norowarejima High School. In 1936, at the age of seventy-nine, the headmistress had still not tendered her resignation, and was eventually forced into retirement by increasing issues with her old age (to her resentment), living out her last few years in the Shio summer home, on the island's coast.
Additional Notes:
Thank you for reading! I had a lot of fun with this application (especially The Seamstress).
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