SPECIAL EVENT: The Flower Oracle

[polymods]

✖ Meet The Oracle

A low thrumming sound builds in the background noise of the raised village, starting so softly that it would be easy to mistake it for the ever present hummingbirds. It keeps building slowly, somehow managing to be both a sound and to bypass the ear as it hums in the bones. The local Temple Guardians bump heads and brush against each other, quietly affirming their bond as they divide their duties: one staying with the local Temple and the other winding through the paths of the village down to the bud of the Flower Oracle in its place of honor in the city center.

The villagers stop what they’re doing, not quite in a panic, but their speed is deliberate and definite. They gather things on their way, flower wreaths, fish, beautiful food, sharp knives, until everyone has something in their arms. There is an ecstatic tension in the air, after all, the time has come when these people will yet again see substantial proof of their god, and it seems they have forgotten all about the Travelers who might have joined them. There is plenty of room for everyone to gather in a circle around the green bud that has grown even larger.

The thrum rises until it is hard to breathe, until some of the structures around begin to groan in the onslaught, and then it stops, suddenly. In the vacuum of silence, there is a wet and meaty sound as the bud begins to open, a first hint of things that look like red lips and white teeth. A canny Traveler might be forgiven for running at that point. The visceral sound of the splitting, of this birthing, continues as the bud splits, then splits again as the four sepals fall open, exposing an inner surface that glistens red and is lined at the edges with white sharp growths that may be fangs. The villagers ignore the implicit threat. They have eyes only for the structure in the middle.

Who can blame them? Translucent petals form a breathing tower, curled tight and perfect as a seashell. A glow pulses like a heartbeat as the petals slowly unfurl, collapsing elegantly to reveal the Oracle and provide protection against the threat of the sepals. The Flower Oracle is beautiful, glowing, soft and round. She is initially surrounded by four guards, each masculine and clearly dangerous, but they move aside to leave a clear path. The villagers line up with their sacrifices, and there is ritual patience in the act. Everyone will have their time with the Oracle, and anyone must be allowed their time alone within the petals.

Notes:
Characters who wish to approach the oracle need to respond to the thread titled ‘Meet the Oracle’. After they get their response, they can post a separate reaction thread to play out some of the consequences of the event.

Responses to the Oracle Thread should include: a short description of their IC reaction/actions, a description of what they bring for a sacrifice, and their question for the ancient. Villagers will have let them know that traditional options include: fish, flowers, art, blood, secrets, or memories. Characters/players may come up with their own sacrifices. Please include a note if the character helped decorate the local temple this month.

WARNING: Contacting the Oracle may result in negative IC results for characters, and there is a degree of randomness in how the mods assign results.

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Comments

[unkindled_madness]

[Sephiroth raises his eyebrows, still amused.]

And what are the qualifications of a metaphorical prince?

[dothelokimotion]

Usually a small tie to royalty.

Preferably with muscles.

[unkindled_madness]

Muscles?

I suppose I've read of a simple hero sufficing.

[dothelokimotion]

[ loki makes a face. ]

Heroes are so . . . preachy.

[unkindled_madness]

You've met many, have you?

[dothelokimotion]

Too many. They're all vaguely irritating.

[ at least he's been spared from seeing the avengers. ]

[unkindled_madness]

I see.

Do they actually refer to themselves as heroes?

[dothelokimotion]

They call themselves Avengers. You can usually tell when they have a fancy alias, costume and pretentious morality.

[unkindled_madness]

That does sound irritating.

[dothelokimotion]

Heroes often are.

[unkindled_madness]

No heroes then.

Luckily, we're all meant to be morally deficient in some way.

[dothelokimotion]

[ morally deficient. loki goes somber at that, plucking at the skin on his palms. ]

Some of us more than others.

[unkindled_madness]

[...that was unexpected.]

It's all subjective, isn't it?

[dothelokimotion]

Not always.

[unkindled_madness]

Hmm.

Well, I've never found much point in it. I'd prefer neither of us becomes "preachy."

[dothelokimotion]

[ his lips curve upwards, despite himself. ]

I don't think either of us are in any danger of that.

[unkindled_madness]

I should hope not.

But I have been called a hero.

[dothelokimotion]

A war hero?

[unkindled_madness]

...yes.

Subjective, as I said.

[dothelokimotion]

It often is.

But there are lines in our hearts that we know of.

[unkindled_madness]

A personal code is just that. External judgment need not come into it.

[dothelokimotion]

[ that is true, but still. ]

If we're connected to other people, it might. I imagine you have a friend or two whose opinions you care for.

[unkindled_madness]

[...does he?]

Is that how it is with you?

[dothelokimotion]

[ loki pauses, mulling over it. ]

In a way. I don't overly care what anyone says of me. I am a God. Societal lines . . . I've seen them come and go over the centuries.

But I had my family, for good or ill. What they thought of me mattered.

[unkindled_madness]

I see.

Their opinions have value to you because they have value to you.