[Good stories come from the heart, you uncultured swines. Goldilocks is garbage, cotton candy Drifter is our new best friend. Eager to get into the riveting sequel, she nyooms into her next wild ride, acting like she's told it 10000 times before, despite how made up and Horrible it is.]
They became pirates and went to the moon on a bunch of pretty horses. Drifter said 'hello' to the ghost that lived there, the caterpillar ate all of the treasure and everyone came back to the island. [Maybe it's time for a trilogy]
Then there was a prophecy.
[S T O P H E R]
It said 'an angel will save you, if you pet many cats' so everyone did. They purred a lot.
[The Drifter, for their part, does nothing but watch and listen and nod approvingly as they sit there in their blanket burrito, aware of nothing being even remotely amiss. There is no plot, no story structure, and no characterization to speak of. But that's fine, as the Drifter is fully aware of who the characters are.]
what angel
[Please explain the nature of the "angel," Ren. They're so terribly ignorant and unaware.]
[Winged creatures that live in the sky. Their association with such things tends to be less kind than what Ren is implying. Not the mages of the northern mountains. Not the egg-breakers and zealots that would have cut the world apart.]
[Drifter, not everything that bears esoteric words about an arcane past and an equally abstract future is a god. Sometimes it's just a strange person, or a concept that has very little to actually do with anything at the moment.]
[Because now they're all hopeless off-topic, and the Drifter, wanderer that they are, is hardly the person to get them back onto it again.]
[Ya'll are damn fools for looking to Ren as a source information on this subject. She's spewing off nonsense and a part of her wants to cover them both up to solve this dilemma and ignore the fact she doesn't really know. Where are prophecy telling children when you need them?? Chara probably has the answer.
She slowly, slowly pulls a blanket up to cover Drifter's head, if they don't move, and says-]
I don't know. I think they just fly around like birds.
[The Drifter blinks. A blanket has ended up in front of their face and over their head, which does not prevent them from "speaking," as it were, in the slightest.]
the beings that create and preserve life the storyteller the white dog the black jackal
[Their words may be more ominous and suitably arcane if there were not a blanket on top of their head, but the Drifter makes no effort to remove it.]
[Are we sticking blankets over people's heads now? Well watch out Ren because Seto's going to gently dump a blanket on her head before reading what the Drifter says Gods are.
He has no idea what jackals are but he met a white dog here, who turned out to be a really nice dog. And the Storyteller...hum.]
[Thankfully she saw Drifter's words before being sentenced to this blanket prison and Seto's response isn't so confusing. Though she could've swore Drifter said white dog and she knows of one such puppy on this island. Her voice is muffled by her new outfit and she makes no attempt to remove it. This is kind of cozy and it's not like she has to worry about looking out for danger with both Seto and Drifter here, not to mention they're safe in this Glyph-y hideout.]
I don't think they all are. The Tokyo dogs were mean-they weren't gods.
[But a white dog. That bothers her. She knows the Storyteller and the black jackel from Drifter's memory and-
One hand shoots out from under the blanket, feeling around for some chalk, and when she manages to find a piece by touch alone, she starts to doodle something. It's terrible. She's not even peeking. Lines are crossing, the shapes make no sense-it's bad.]
Gods are nice and strong and say kind things to you. They don't know how to use bandaids, but they try to heal your heart. That's how you can tell.
[That does not clarify much, but to the Drifter - well, it had been obvious enough, what she was. An incredible, celestial being, perhaps not what they understood as a god in accordance to the jackal they recall from home, but the polar opposite. Where the jackal was sleek and jet-dark, the wolf is flowing and pure, snowy white.]
[Death and life. The diametric opposition was very simple, to them.]
[Unfortunately Seto's gone his whole life without the knowledge of gods. So the white wolf in question remained just that: a white wolf. Or rather, a white dog.
But she was the nicest dog he's ever met before, one that didn't try to hurt him. That alone was special to Seto.]
The one with the garden? She's really nice.
[She also got their stuff back from those scary people but....Seto isn't going to talk about that.]
[When she finishes her terrible doodle of said garden doggo, she pulls the blanket from over her hand to read the rest of this convo. Nani the heck? It's really the same one? Ren has Questions.
Even if it kind of makes sense. The way she managed to grow something from nothing using art, the fact that she's kind and unwilling to chase and rip people apart for a meal. That all seems like pleasant, godlike behavior.]
How do you know?
[Did Drifter tell her stories and get fun items? Did she say something? Can she talk? Did she write it? The heck.]
[The Drifter tilts their head in momentary confusion. Then, recognizing the necessity in seeing what little of their ace may communicate as such, they finally drag the blanket off of their own head and let it pool in their lap.]
[They had seen her in such a way that not all did. Perhaps it was in this way that her true nature was obvious.]
[It is difficult, they’re discovering, to describe in exact terms what they mean. They had looked at her, and they had seen. They had looked at her, and she was the diametric opposition to the jackal, slender and coal-black and heralding death. She was life, absolute, as far as they were concerned.]
[It leaves them uncertain how best to translate this, when their descriptors are all abstract.]
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They became pirates and went to the moon on a bunch of pretty horses. Drifter said 'hello' to the ghost that lived there, the caterpillar ate all of the treasure and everyone came back to the island. [Maybe it's time for a trilogy]
Then there was a prophecy.
[S T O P H E R]
It said 'an angel will save you, if you pet many cats' so everyone did. They purred a lot.
[And-]
It was happily ever after again.
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what angel
[Please explain the nature of the "angel," Ren. They're so terribly ignorant and unaware.]
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[W-wrong book Seto. Also he's asking Ren too. Please define what an 'angel' is. He's got nothing.]
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Which means she's going to answer nothing and pass the buck. The heck is an angel? Who knows. Not her.]
Yes, they have chicken wings and come down from the sky. They live in the clouds. I think Kidwun knows a lot about them.
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are they good
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[So no need for chicken-winged people murder. It's good.]
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[But the real pressing question is-]
If they have chicken wings, do they lay eggs? Did the books say that?
[Drifter should pretend to sleep and escape this nightmare once and for all.]
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[Drifter, not everything that bears esoteric words about an arcane past and an equally abstract future is a god. Sometimes it's just a strange person, or a concept that has very little to actually do with anything at the moment.]
[Because now they're all hopeless off-topic, and the Drifter, wanderer that they are, is hardly the person to get them back onto it again.]
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Also speaking of learning...]
Gods?
[He doesn't know that word.]
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She slowly, slowly pulls a blanket up to cover Drifter's head, if they don't move, and says-]
I don't know. I think they just fly around like birds.
[Which brings her to the boy's question-]
The Storyteller is a 'god'-it's like that.
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the beings that create and preserve life
the storyteller
the white dog
the black jackal
[Their words may be more ominous and suitably arcane if there were not a blanket on top of their head, but the Drifter makes no effort to remove it.]
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He has no idea what jackals are but he met a white dog here, who turned out to be a really nice dog. And the Storyteller...hum.]
Rabbits are Gods? And dogs too?
[Yes that's what he's taking away from this.]
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I don't think they all are. The Tokyo dogs were mean-they weren't gods.
[But a white dog. That bothers her. She knows the Storyteller and the black jackel from Drifter's memory and-
One hand shoots out from under the blanket, feeling around for some chalk, and when she manages to find a piece by touch alone, she starts to doodle something. It's terrible. She's not even peeking. Lines are crossing, the shapes make no sense-it's bad.]
Gods are nice and strong and say kind things to you. They don't know how to use bandaids, but they try to heal your heart. That's how you can tell.
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[That does not clarify much, but to the Drifter - well, it had been obvious enough, what she was. An incredible, celestial being, perhaps not what they understood as a god in accordance to the jackal they recall from home, but the polar opposite. Where the jackal was sleek and jet-dark, the wolf is flowing and pure, snowy white.]
[Death and life. The diametric opposition was very simple, to them.]
have met her?
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But she was the nicest dog he's ever met before, one that didn't try to hurt him. That alone was special to Seto.]
The one with the garden? She's really nice.
[She also got their stuff back from those scary people but....Seto isn't going to talk about that.]
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Even if it kind of makes sense. The way she managed to grow something from nothing using art, the fact that she's kind and unwilling to chase and rip people apart for a meal. That all seems like pleasant, godlike behavior.]
How do you know?
[Did Drifter tell her stories and get fun items? Did she say something? Can she talk? Did she write it? The heck.]
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[They had seen her in such a way that not all did. Perhaps it was in this way that her true nature was obvious.]
looked like one
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She has really pretty fur. I don't think I've seen a dog with white fur before.
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[She kept track of cats, not dogs, so while she met many, many kitties she named Shiro, it's hard to say about their doggy counterparts.
But the white dog roaming about the island is a creature she remembers-how can Drifter tell they're a god? Looked like one-how?]
Does she have a book or horns? Is that how you can tell?
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full of life
[It is difficult, they’re discovering, to describe in exact terms what they mean. They had looked at her, and they had seen. They had looked at her, and she was the diametric opposition to the jackal, slender and coal-black and heralding death. She was life, absolute, as far as they were concerned.]
[It leaves them uncertain how best to translate this, when their descriptors are all abstract.]