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burnwater13 · 9 months

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Grogu had to admit that Din Djarin was a pretty good story teller and a real optimist. Every time something went a little sideways, the Mandalorian would tell Grogu, ‘at least you didn’t stub both toes’, or ‘at least the stain came out’, or ‘at least the bridge didn’t flood’.

Yup. Grogu was very happy the bridge of the Razor Crest didn’t flood after the ship tipped over and fell into the water. The Frog Lady was pretty happy about that too and her future off-spring would be happy about it, once they were old enough to hear the story of what had happened.

Certainly, ‘at least blah, blah, blah’, wasn’t the whole story. It was just the wrap up, the take away, the end of the story as the Mandalorian bounty hunter had seen things. Everything else he did was how he told the story proceeding the ending.

Take the time the mudhorn clobbered him. Din could have run away. He could have said, ‘Sorry kid, looks like we’re stuck on Arvala-7. No way to get the ship repaired. Hope you like living on a mostly dessert planet.’ But he didn’t do that. Nope. He told a different story. Which was a lot more like, ‘Just give me a minute to…wheeze… catch my breath… wheeze… and I’ll stop that mudhorn from squashing us and we can get the egg and get our parts back from the Jawas and rebuild the ship and it’ll be just like new.’

Same thing this time. Din could have just used the escape capsule to, you know, escape. Then he could have gotten help and collected the Frog Lady, her off-spring, and Grogu. It would have been safer. But it also would have taken a long time and cooperation from people on Trask that might not have been forthcoming. So his dad told the story a different way. An exciting, spell binding, spine tingling way.

Grogu was pretty sure that was he felt was his spine tingle. He really hoped it wan’t anything else the way the ship was plummeting toward the planet like a meteorite. And then, the master story teller nailed the landing… sort of. It was drama at its finest because there was the sudden relief of success and that twist at the end of failure. Grogu knew that he, for one, was on the edge of his seat the whole time and not just metaphorically.

Grogu knew that a lot of other people would have preferred the boring old story of slowly wafting down to the surface of the planet, like a leaf on the wind, and then gently, almost unnoticeably landing on the docking pad with just the soft sound of the contact buzzer telling them all it was safe to unload the ship. But not his dad. Nope. He was actually pretty glad of that.

Life had kind of been like that at the Jedi Temple, most days. Up at the same time every morning. Biological needs assessment, biological systems maintenance based on assessed needs, information collection, analysis, and feedback, personal interface activities. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was boring. Until a new youngling had shown up as part of Grogu’s class.

Grogu was pretty certain that Ian must have been a Mandalorian foundling just like Din Djarin and he must have really liked telling stories because life was no longer dull and predictable as long as he was at the Jedi Temple. Instead of the monotonous exercise of sleeping, eating, learning, and sleeping again, Grogu got to sit at the feet of a master story teller. There was Drama! Intrigue! Adventure! And once in a while, riveting True Crime! On certain days, all these stories were told simultaneously.

Take a day of the Jedi Temple picnic. On any other planet you wouldn’t even have called it a picnic if you held it indoors, but on Coruscant indoors and out of doors wasn’t really that different. But since the Temple had a huge arboretum, you could hold a picnic there and at least pretend you were on Dantooine, or Naboo, or even Alderaan.

Ian had been determined to make sure the story of the picnic was fascinating and dramatic. He started out by going to the biological specimens laboratory and collecting as many specimens as he could hold, using the Force of course. Turns out that even one container of Degobahian Biting Ants was more than enough to provide an exciting amount of stomping, cursing, and slapping.

Eventually Master Yoda instructed the younglings on how to collect the critters, but until then the program had been filled with drama and pathos and then made a sudden switch to comic timing and slap-stick. From his position in his floating seat, Grogu had been able to admire the effects of it all without becoming a direct participant in the story.

Of course, once the comedic aspect of the story was complete, the intrigue set in because no matter what he tried, Master Yoda was unable to locate Ian. Well, until he just caved in and used the Force and then it was pretty easy to see that Ian had climbed to the very tippy top of the huge life tree at the center of the space. Grogu admired Ian’s climbing skills even if the other masters were less than pleased with the younglings rare display of athletic prowess.

Grogu’s ability to appreciate the adventure aspect of the story was cut short when Master Beq asked all the younglings to return to their quarters. Apparently Master Yoda no longer felt that a picnic was an appropriate activity for them all to participate in because the story had suddenly become a True Crime thriller involving Master Yoda’s missing floaty chair. Grogu would have offered him the use of his own floating seat, but no one thought switching from True Crime to farce was appropriate, especially Yoda who had grumbled something like, ‘To sit in pram, too old am I’.

Grogu had found out later that the Master’s floating chair had been found in the upper branches of the Life Tree. He heard Master Beq tell the other Jedi ‘At least it hadn’t been lost.’ Grogu wondered if maybe Master Beq, Ian, and Din Djarin were all Mandalorian story tellers. He really thought you should have access to beskar if you were going to say something like that to Master Yoda. Because, you know, drama.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #Master Yoda #Ian #Story tellers

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xxxnightcorequeenxxxv2 · 1 year

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Humans are space fae

Space travel used to be peaceful, well as peaceful as space travel can get. It wasn’t until the humans were discovered, that things started to get weird. Humans on paper are fairly normal when it comes being just an other species but they have the trifecta of Ingenuity, Creativity and Boredom. This is what makes them grate story tellers. You see humans will tell stories in many forms, they’ll find you a way to take in the stories in many ways. Like many other story telling species their stories are a treat to listen to. it’s just that humans somehow can add that little bit of an extra spark to their stories making them come to life. This is what made them desirable to some that didn’t know an unwillingly kept human will tell you stories but at a price, you didn’t knew you had to pay. Yes, this has to do with space travel as humans have liken the travels in space to their travels on their waters. And with that comes stories so ancient humans can not pin down for sure when they where made only that it was way before they were know of in the wider universe. So they told their old tails and sang old songs and somehow spun things to life in the void. Things that came to life out of seemingly the mind of everyone who has heard the tails. Even though with an explanation from the humans and scientific research we can not prove their existence. We all know their is nothing new in the void of space. Yet, things are now seemingly lurking in the depths of space and the void now sing with the voice of sirens. So beware the human magic of story telling, it brings things to life both for good and bad. Be kind to the humans or their next tale might be your undoing as there is not much we can do against the monsters they can conjure in your own mind.

#humans are space fae #story tellers

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i-might-be-weird-barbie · 8 months

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“Excitement is a self contained kit. It is the driving engine and the organizing principle.

Therefore you don’t always need to know what it is that you may need to change right now if you are willing to act on your excitement and tell yourself the story that is truly you by simply moving forward in that excitement, by simply moving forward in that story.

If there is anything you need to be aware of that needs changing, any challenge you need to be aware of, any belief you need to be aware of that requires your attention - moving forward in the story will bring you to that story point automatically. You will then face it when that story point comes up.

So you don’t need to know it now, but you will find that on your journey if you move forward in your story. ”

- the concept of Storytelling as a template through which life is experienced & communicated by all beings. Concept brought forward by Bashar channeled through Darryl Anka in “An Essassani Story”

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humming-way · 2 years

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Rotten Apple

-An ode to the ghost of the past.

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know who you are. But there was a time when I thought I knew who you were. I am back in your town after what feels like ages. The town you never wanted to leave. The town you never wanted me to leave. I left because I had to. I was meant to. It was for the best. Mine, more than yours. I know that sounds rough. Rough, rugged aren’t those the terrains you loved walking on? I still remember what you used to say- “While other men may sit and talk, the walking man walks. Sure, you loved walking. I loved it too but sometimes; I wanted to sit and talk. Just as simple as that. But you were restless and I was getting restless walking behind you. With time, I was left far behind. The gap between us was too wide that even while I sprinted to catch you, I couldn’t. Eventually, I stopped walking on the same trail. I found another path and that path led me to the center of my heart. My heart taught me to be still and to look and listen. Instead of being lost in your thoughts, I started to marvel at the blue of the sky, the shapes of the cloud, the lines of my hand, and the gait of an ant. I started to smell the flowers and realized how I never kneeled to smell the clovers. I discovered the true joy in the scent of the clovers. The more I spent time listening to the orchestra of cicadas and the current of the river, the more I deciphered the notes and the beats of this rhythm of life.

This rhythm of life took me to faraway places. I saw smiles. Some genuine, some crooked. I held unknown hands and walked, this time not behind but hand in hand.

But now that I am back, back in your town. I listen to the music we used to listen to and go to all the places we used to go to. Although I must admit, there’s been something strange that’s been happening. It's like an anomaly. Earlier I didn’t notice it but now that it has happened so many times I can’t unsee it. Every time I visit these places, I find a rotten apple. Just a lone rotten apple. Sitting there like how you used to sit. I mean, not literally but metaphorically. Crazy, right? You’ll say it’s just an apple, who cares? I didn’t at first but finding it all the time, at all our spots made me feel like this all must mean something.

You see, I don’t care about people who think that this life has no meaning. These people can think what they want to. I am not Nietzsche nor do I want to be one. For now, all I know is that it’s too strange a phenomenon to find these apples almost everywhere and that this strangeness means something to me.

These days I am not only wandering but also wondering. I have been wondering if this is real life? Or if it is a dream? Or a dream within a dream? They say, our dreams are always trying to tell us something. They speak to us through symbols. We just have to have the caliber to piece these puzzling symbols together. If it’s all a dream within a dream then perhaps seeing a rotten apple is not unusual. I have ignored my gut and feelings for far too long but if I am to believe in my gut and feelings, I know what a rotten apple signifies. It is a symbol of...you.

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innervoiceartblog · 2 years

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"As we celebrate our mothers today, grandmothers, sisters and all mother roles, it is worth noting a little more about women in Aboriginal culture.

Women were respected for the important and deep contributions they made to their community.

Life givers, healers, gatherers, food providers and story tellers were just some of the roles passed on from generation to generation.

They often carried out healing ceremonies and dances and told stories to carry on social traditions. They were traditionally responsible for gathering water and bush foods such as fruits, seeds, vegetables, maku (edible grubs) and tjala (homey ants). Some also hunted smaller animals such as inka (goanna) and tjilkamata (echidna). Men were responsible for making tools and hunting larger game animals such as malu (red kangaroo) and kalaya (emu).

The relationship of women and young girls to bush foods has always been a strong connection with many young girls going out on country with their grandmothers aunties, mothers and sisters to learn about collecting and preparing bush foods.

At around six years of age, the male children join the men to learn hunting while the young girls remain with the women to learn food gathering. Gulbarn is an example of a women leading the way in harvesting this ancient traditional bush food medicine.

Since women are the principal food gatherers many women artists paint stories associated with food gathering.

Women know about the seasonal cycles and habitat of animals and plants and how to use plants to create bush medicines. We explored this in previous posts.

Foraging for food is based on the women's intimate knowledge of their country passed on in their Dreaming stories. The anthropologist T. G. H. Strehlow noted that the Warlpiri people knew 103 different species of flora and 138 species of fauna. Since women are the principal food gatherers many women artists paint stories associated with food gathering.

So a big thank you to all the mothers of Australia today and a special acknowledgement to our First Nations mothers who hold ancient knowledge and have demonstrated remarkable resilience over generations."

~ Kakadu Plum Co. https://kakaduplumco.com/

Photo: Aboriginal woman with her wana (digging stick) and yandi or Coolamon (gathering bowl)

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kfsstories · 8 months

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Dream Shifting Dimension

Welcome to my latest blog post – the first in some time. I am returning to my original idea for this site – to offer Story Starters for writers in the romance genre. The original idea for today’s story was focused around shape shifting or dimension crossing. In this story Eliza crosses into the dream dimension. Her gift is introduced. Writers, where can you take this story starter. If it…

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#dream dimension #love #shape shifting #story starters #Story tellers #the power of love #writing ideas #writing stories

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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 11 months

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Spooked. I'm so glad you came into my life. A few of the episodes I think about frequently...The Haunting of Radio Centro is one of them.

#spooked #spooked podcast #glynn washington #the haunting of radio centro #true scary stories #story tellers

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aucoba · 2 years

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I've seen this advice many times "write about what you know". It's good advice, but recently I realised my N°1 rule should be a bit more precise... Like this :

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WriTe ABoUt WHaT You kNoW

Never use other's suffering to entertain the ignorant

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My main WIP is about an assassin and an immortal who will become like brother and sister. I know shit about assassinations, and not enough about the history of the world. Also my relationship with my siblings can be qualified as "non existent when not filled with pity and pain".

But my OC's struggles will come from my experiences. This story is me dealing with my own traumas with puppets made out from my own flesh. Not other's hearts left overs.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

#Self Ted talk #Before going to sleep #sleepy thoughts #Artists #Story tellers #How to tell a story #Where might I get my inspiration from #Goodnight

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084392 · 17 days

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my interpretation of rt ninetales...

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #ninetales #rt rewrite #<-suuuuuree what th hell why not.#my art #left parts of the story vague on purpose.#the rest of its vague bc im not a good story teller and just wanted to get the basic gist down. anyways.

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ineffable-suffering · 7 months

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Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #story of wee morag #my own meta #aziraphale the Drama Queen #shakespeare who #unreliable but beloved story teller aziraphale

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