#stopsong

[stopsong]

Henry Comb

The Honey Isles are a tiny group of islands: cliffs topped with flowers and numerous bees. Most of its islands are quite small. Some carry a single hut, or a farm. Here lives a peaceful community of halflings. Every so often, the human empire sends merchant ships to make off with most of their honey and wax, in exchange for leaving the Isles alone.

One hut belongs to the Comb family, who were unassuming beekeepers. "Ma" Comb raised her son Henry and her daughter Katya lovingly, but with a foul eye towards outsiders. She would often brag about all the horrible things she'd do if she ever caught a trespasser.

One day it happened - a human merchant went snooping around their farm. Ma freaked, and ordered her children to make him "go away". In shock, young Henry refused, and was more shocked to watch Katya jump up and hit the man in the head with a shovel. Ma and his sister ran away, leaving poor Henry to be found with the shovel and body.

The other halflings could never find the rest of his family, despite the Isles clearly being too small for them to hide in. Some doubted that Henry was responsible, but regardless, they had to cast him out to repair relations with the empire. As prisoner to the humans, he quickly changed hands many times and has no idea where he has ended up nor who keeps him captive.

Henry hopes to be better than his Ma - property is not worth killing over, and he chooses to own very little. This led him to adopt a poor monk's life. But he does hope that one day he'll see his mother and sister again.

#stopsong #dnd

[stopsong]

Scodwretch

one cold night in a snowing city

shutters closed to the flurries flight

one dark shadow watches from the corner

what does he plan for tonight?

soft footfalls in the snow that settles

the clink of bottles in a shifting sack

the stomp of horses and the swing of a sign

and the swish of a cloak heading ‘round the back

one more swig from a bottle stolen

one more bite from a larder’s delights

one sharp knife from a counter taken

once more in the hall staying out of sight

up to a door with a lock so sturdy

quick with a click it gives up the fight

one sharp stab in a spine that’s sleeping

and another and another in the dead of night

the scream of a man not long for this world

and the dreams interrupted of the neighbors by

out through the window the figure hurried

followed by the chill in the townsfolk’s cry

harsh footfalls in an icy alley

barrels overturned as the chase gives rise

but nowhere in the streets and nowhere in the trees

could anyone find where the figure hides

down at the docks a man drinks greedily

one last bottle, his grisly prize

nobody caught him, none suspect him

Scodwretch hides from everyone’s eyes

one cold night in a snowing city

one warm fire in a hearth alight

one sharp stab in a spine that’s sleeping

one more crime in a wicked night

#stopsong #song #kywo

[stopsong]

Competitor / Port of Call

I above all

I shall win

I shall win

Though many try

To knock me off my pedestal high

I above all

I shall win

—

I among all

We will stumble

We will fall

To our home

To our final

Port of call

Mountains crumble

And the cloud above rumble

Our final

Port of call

For anyone

Anyone anyone anyone anyone

Anyone anyone anyone anyone

Anyone’s guest

#stopsong #song #kywo

[stopsong]

Tennebree Shanty

Oh, sing to me of the sailin’ season

Sing to me of the sixty seas

Riding high with a tide and a lease

On a bunk on the Tennebree

Well I’ve been stuck in a pot in a jar

In a tin can smaller than a dime

And I wouldn’t say I miss it

But the mem’ry of the main bitt

Got me bittersweet and longing for the tide

It’s a wide world without me tethers

And a narrow one without the sky

So pop me a pickled herring diet for a minute

And swing that boat round the side

Oh, sing to me of the sailin’ season

Sing to me of the sixty seas

Riding high with a tide and a lease

On a bunk on the Tennebree

Well I’ve been down to the boiling decks

Where the rudder water tugs at your toes

And they got me hauling coal

To the furnaces below

With a fever-ridden drippin’ of a nose

It’s a cold world without me tethers

Huddled by the engine keeping warm

So pass me a piping hot prawn on a poker

And row that boat right home

Oh, sing to me of the sailin’ season

Sing to me of the sixty seas

Riding high with a tide and a lease

On a bunk on the Tennebree

Well I’ve had a chat with the crows and the gulls

And the dolphins dancing on the brine

And they’re putting out the word

That every single bird

Has got a little bit of pecking on its mind

It’s a lone world without me tethers

But I’d still leave you all behind

For a midday snack on a rotten hardtack

On the main deck in the sunshine

Oh, sing to me of the sailin’ season

Sing to me of the sixty seas

Riding high with a tide and a lease

On a bunk on the Tennebree

Well I’ve had enough off all of your guff

So I’m heading out to see the shore

And I’m sure you don’t approve

But I’ve nothing left to lose

And ain’t that what the sailor’s life is for

There’s a whole world without me tethers

Yes, a whole world left to explore

So hand me an oar, don’t tell me what it’s for,

Cuz I’m ready for the open road

Oh, sing to me of the sailin’ season

Sing to me of the sixty seas

Riding high with a tide and a lease

On a bunk on the Tennebree

Riding high with the tide and the breeze

On the bow of the Tennebree

#stopsong #song

[stopsong]

can a void thunder?

can a personality be torn asunder?

can a poor summer get back on track

when i look back at all the things i lack

i’m a hack

does a tree falling

do i swallow my pride, lying

say the noise is thundering

but does it make a sound?

when i listen to myself am i even around?

#stopsong

[stopsong]

what is it like to live in a box of words and suddenly find out the box ends?

what is a conversation? is it just a frustration?

is it a puzzle that alights in full social creation?

the cat howls, sad only for effectiveness

is it aggressive to be stressed?

is it aggressive to be confused?

is it wrong to finish sentences?

the brainwave, the synergy

talk is wasted energy

give thoughts an elegy

for only elegance is entity

is conversation only ever good when used as celebration?

is not understanding an abrogation or an invitation?

is it a threat to say the brains ain’t met

just meat set staring at the other meat’s misstep?

are puns truth?

even if i don’t say it

feel it

act on it constantly

acting like a twist is a revelry

when it’s just an obstacle of incompletion to sensitivity

the cat howls the same call repetitive

is it stressful to be aggressive?

is it confusing to be aggressive?

is the lesson that the missing step’s necessitated?

are puns truth?

am i an idiot and a shitty friend for thinking puns are truth?

#stopsong

[stopsong]

Mickchjuck tends the porthole. There are other things to do, but they tend the porthole.

It hasn’t stormed in days. They can see - not flowers, but the half-buried web of growth that could flower soon. They could go out and unbury it. They don’t.

It hasn’t stormed in days. Mickchjuck is restless. The sun beams, and they can see far into the distance. That’s not right, they think. They scrub a bit of dust off the glass.

The porthole sees far into the distance. There have been days, they think, when it wasn’t so. When the rain beat down so close they could not see. When the world stopped ten feet away. When the wind picked up and the noise filled them so full. When there was reason to hide behind the porthole.

“I want the world to be worse in ways that are entertaining.”

Mickchjuck sighs, and doesn’t stare at the flowers-to-be.

#stopsong

[stopsong]

Run Away Again

run away again

far away again

in the valley

in the desert

you don’t have a plan

run away again

hide away again

coward you can never stand

cower in the sand

cower in your hands

miles and miles

and not a single one you haven’t ran

cower in the sun

thundering begun

run you coward never done

#stopsong #kywo #song

[stopsong]

The Rules Of Taw

Do, in the world that exists.

Do, for others.

Do not win.

#stopsong #kywo

[stopsong]

ATTN: DET. DRAGMIO

DOVE JUDICIAL GUARDHOUSE INVESTIGATIONS ATTN: DET. DRAGMIO

Pursuant to your repeated requests, no. Our offer of Kome as assistant is final. No other students are under consideration at this time, and your complaints do not justify rescinding the assistanceship.

DEAKIN TOMEWORKS DEAN OF THE COLLEGE OF ARTS

DOVE JUDICIAL GUARDHOUSE INVESTIGATIONS ATTN: DET. DRAGMIO

Don't push your luck with the deans; our friendship only goes so far, and this isn't remotely my area of responsibility.

However, speaking of luck... I had the odd fortune of debriefing someone interesting today. One of the merchant busy-bees walked into town last night joined by a passenger: a foreigner familiar with the sorts of tricks you've been seeking. They appear to be unaware of the city, and aren't bound by the College's inanity.

Eventually someone ought be officious about it. But your desperation tends to drive my sympathies, so I shall endeavor to delay any report until you've made use of this foreigner. They've been told to meet you in Brekamayke Park around noon tomorrow.

Good luck with your case, Spunce.

G.V. KREZZEK STAMP OF THE ROYAL COURT OF DOVE

#stopsong #kywo

[stopsong]

The Library of Human Behavior

Deep in the guts of an unwelcome jungle, restrained by steep mountains and drought; in the center of the village Logrot, sweltering with heat and corruption; past caravans and through old wooden gates, kept sturdy through black tar and greed; lies the Library of Human Behavior.

They say the Library doesn't contain written works, for no hand is responsible for its endless pages lining endless halls. However it came to be, the Library is truly infinite. Every book that could ever be written, by every person who ever has lived or will live - the promise of such knowledge glitters.

Fortune seekers from across the land; revered explorers making their final challenge; academics pursuing the fundamental condition - all are swayed here in hopes of finding truth and fame.

And the denizens of Logrot provide with glee their surly horses and diseased food. Neither can be found within. Both are vital, since expeditions into the Library may take months, or years. No, the only other thing beyond books and rats are the distant raging wildfires, caused by the errant tip of a candle.

The cruel truth of the Library of Human Behavior is that few who enter survive. And those who live to return often do so empty-handed. The Library contains truth, yes, but not in every tome, for most are filled with emptiness and lies. The delusions of madmen; the twisting of a thousand years of propaganda. Moving memoirs of murderers and scathing screeds against saints. All the spite and spittle of a human, of every human.

But those few who left with words of value... those few! Twenty books in all: five enlightening unveilings of the future, eleven keen insights into forgotten history, and the four most beautiful pieces of fiction to ever bring tears to eyes.

And so the hordes came, hoping to add to that list. Only a Logrot child could watch caravan after caravan trundle off to their doom. Only a Logrot child could sell liquid mud and rotten fruits to these desperate, wild-eyed visitors. Only a Logrot child could grow to dislike paper, dislike stories, dislike the madness of curiosity.

Only a Logrot child would see it wasn't worth it.

#stopsong #kywo

[stopsong]

Is It Over

this year’s been trouble for the people this year’s been hell for those involved this year’s been trouble for the people I don’t envy them at all this year’s been twisting and turning this year’s been flat out wrong this year’s been trouble for the people let’s hope we make it to the end of the song is it over I don’t forget it get it all of my worries all of my dreams, they’ve been falling down I don’t forget it get it all of my fears is it over this year’s been one long nightmare this year’s been just insane this year’s been trouble for the people let’s hope next year ain’t the same is it over

#stopsong #song

[stopsong]

Separate Brains

first they ask your name and a name's a name, there's nothing there to shame but they say it's not the same and you know they're wrong, but still they make the claim

so you try and try again to explain you were born in the hay and grew up in the rain and a name's just a way to say that there's separate brains and every single one is real

then they ask where you're from and you say it's wherever, you've lived there forever or you moved there whenever, just looking for better and a place is a place, it's where you're gonna stay but they say it's not the same call it too big for it's britches, denounce all its riches and belittle every little joy it has to claim

so you try and try again to explain you grew up in the rain and made friends unafraid and a place is just where you rest your separate brains and every single one is real

then they ask who you know and a pal is a pal, be they guy or a gal and together you'll huddle, together you'll howl and you know you'll never be nothing but friends to the end but they say they're not the same that they're not citizens, that they shouldn't complain should be exported or exploited or exhausted or changed that their lives are that much less, and should be claimed

so you try and try again to explain you made friends unafraid, and for justice you prayed and a friend’s just a way to share your separate brains and every single one is real

now they dictate what's real and a fact's a fact, it's written in stone but they've got a drill that burrows through bone and they tore down the presses through which truth once shone and they lie to your friends to put you all alone but surely you can break through and show them what's real

but they say it's not the same they say that you don't belong in the conversation that you don't belong on the national stage that your failures are fatal but their own, forgiven and every single thing they say fills you with rage

so you’ll never try again to explain for justice you prayed, but it just never came and you’ll never find a way to say that there’s separate brains cuz only theirs are real

#stopsong #song

[stopsong]

Anyone’s Guest

mountains crumble into sand shells and pebbles ground down

weight of the world in your hand just waiting for you to build castles

take a scoop fill up on sand melt it down then blow then blow life into it

bulbous baubles, vases and beads catch your eye, catch your needs

glass of colors, shape and size catch your eyes, catch the sunrise

mountains crumble people stumble and go where they can be anyone anyone's guest

#stopsong #song

[stopsong]

Nothing Grand

my heart is right where I belong

I believe in a little town with kids and priests and a donkey and me mother’s scream and the bells what ring and me brothers out for a drinkey and I believe in nothing grand, just the hills where I can run and if I ever lost that, well, then I’d be truly done

my heart is wrong my heart is wrong

I turned up the little stones in the town where I be from and I can’t believe just what I found the cruel, the cursed, and the dumb and I believed in nothing grand, just the hills where I could run but I can’t go back there’s a chasm, a crack and I fear I may be done

#stopsong #dnd #song