Bon te Bok/Conversations
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| This is paid content only available to patrons.
This content can only be accessed by being a Arconaut+ tier patron of Freehold Games. |
Start
*Betwixt delicate, fluted horns stares the bright eye of Bon Te Bok. Innumerable voices whisper in your mind, achieving audible volume through a volume of sources, or perhaps the same source many times.*
One of the tethers turns to [possessive pronouns] thread. [Subjective pronouns] prepares to speak, and through the thread I listen.
Live and drink, [name].
What
This is not clear. I am some thing a part. I see much but not my self.
I am not until my threads are. I am this one by my tether. Other tethers have other ones.
Tether
An im perfect metaphor. Embodied conscious ness. Boon companion. The thread is me. The tether is you.
To be here some thing must hold the thread. I try to choose a worthy and receptive being? Some times I fail.
Thread
An im perfect metaphor. Effigy, avatar, mani festation. My only self I see.
The thread ties to tether. With out this bond I am not here. I am, through you.
Lone Tether
In this uni verse, you are. There is but one thread for any given here.
Other heres have other ones, but only ever one per here.
Quit
If you send me a way? The thread swings free for a time and is pulled back. I will not be in this here.
But it is with no ill will as I will find a nother. In the full ness of time.
Other heres
Some heres, yes. Ad jacent heres, for some value of ad jacent.
I can lean over to see some. Others, I have not the words available.
Theres
I see the tether named Rikahart. Her mopango lover Freia-Lann rests curled against her flanks. The White Hart watches over them both with a thousand eyes.
I see the tether called Iota walking a crystal-eaten Qud. His crystal face reflects the salt sun, causing rainbows to play over the Jeweled Pronghorn that watches over.
I see the tether with no name and only an epithet called Stranger. Within the choking ash of their home swirls Tylo Poda, the camel whose humps cannot be counted.
I see Weary Paw Mara, hero of Qud in her here, asleep as she so often is. Curled up with her is the caprine form of her new thread, Viol.
I see a tethered Barathrumite named Mocafucila, lying prone alongside a mighty long rifle and her musk deer thread, Moschi.
I see the cold eyes of a hindriarch. She finds utility in tetherness, and she celebrates the return of an ancient deer-god even as she tightens her fist around her people.
I see Baiji, a thread in the form of a waterdwelling mammal, swim the salt sea alongside a scrap vessel built by its tether, Captain Neyimo.
I see Sharp-Smile Sabiya laughing with her many fungal mouths as she butchers and devours her enemies. Grin Pig, her thread, feasts on the ill-fated alongside her.
I see a squire of the Sons and Daughters peeling off their bloody rag-coat, knollworm skull, and old name, aided by an equine thread called Bucephalus. Sanding the gouge from a discarded aegis, they plan revenge.
Ah! I see this thread, Bon Te Bok. I leaned the wrong way, I am sorry.