Otherworld Exchange
(?)Community Member
- Posted: Sun, 04 Jun 2006 00:25:12 +0000
The Holiday Event has begun...
in·spi·ra·tion, noun,
1. Stimulation of the mind or emotions to a high level of feeling or activity.
2. The condition of being so stimulated.
3. Something, such as a sudden creative act or idea, that is inspired.
Also, a place. Home to scattered and unfinished thoughts, unformed ideas and unrealized dreams. They’ve gathered together since the beginning of thought and eventually, life formed. Strange, intangible beings.
Muses.
The muses were beautiful, brilliant, and powerful; also petty, vain, and most of all possessive.
They gathered together like the thoughts before them, the first sentient life on Inspiration; and from their sentience, came Society. And with Society, came a king.
The first king (always a king, for muses have no definite form) created the System; pairing up muses and creative charges, allowing the muses to absorb more than enough creative energy to survive without depleting their homeland.
Though the muses were jealous with each other and protective of their charges, the System worked, as muses would move on from a charge unable to creative without fuss. Everything was calm.
And then the King vanished.
The muses went into turmoil, faced with the first real crisis since they realized their home was deteoriating. Inspiration was in an uproar, and the worlds Outside found themselves struck by sudden bouts and blocks of creativity.
Finally, a new King rose and everything was calm once more. Until that King disappeared, and Inspiration was thrust into tumult yet again, until another King took control. The pattern continued, and was eventually regarded as just another sort of System. For a long while, Inspiration was peaceful.
Until someone found a crack.
A particularly small young muse, who managed squeeze through without notice, sensing their charge nearby. A small muse, yes, but large enough to widen the crack slightly. Just enough that another muse could now sense their charge and find the crack. And it was widened again, only by a margin, as another muse left Inspiration.
And another, and another, but not quite enough for someone to notice. Not yet.
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