Storytelling Niche

If you were to look at my To-Do board, you might say, "Wow, the completed section is looking a little sparse this week," and you'd be correct. Sure, I did the usual transcribing, and I wrote some correspondence between Cael and some other characters. I may have done a Wawful or two, but aside from that? I worked out very little after injuring my gluteus medius muscle, and I haven't even finished writing any of the journals from my backlog.

So, what gives?

Imagine, if you will, the someone you know who is the least likely to giggle like a mad little schoolgirl. And then picture them giggling like a mad little schoolgirl.

For the first time since going live with "Fear No More," I get to take a deep dive into talking about my niche. I'd call it performative storytelling, but the one(s) performing to tell the story are the characters. I suppose "synchronized oratory" works, since both music and storytelling weave together to create the whole narrative experience. Yet it's not just speaking or telling a story over music, not at all. The music complements the oral narrative, and the oral narrative complements the music. They are a cohesive unit.

When I listen to certain songs and pieces, sometimes an internal movie reel clicks on, and I envision a series of scenes that coincide with the music. Take, for instance, when I was watching the Mighty Nein Campaign from Critical Role. During that time, I also discovered the band "Of Monsters and Men."

"Destroyer," sparked such vivid imagery, I began sketching a storyboard for an Essek-centric animatic. It's another project I'd like to finish someday, and I'm actually surprised by how much of it still makes sense to me.

(The above is actually the 2nd draft I was working on before I burnt myself out, as I was trying to flesh out some of the scenes in my head and include a 'prologue' of sorts from when Jester made the Heroes Feast. I was also trying to keep the time spent drawing each box to a minimum so that I didn't catch myself fussing too much over details I didn't like.)

The performances I've written follow a parallel form of logic, but with words instead of pictures, and they'll typically span across multiple pieces.

In our game for Skies Over Aefala, we are nearing the hometown of one of the PCs, Brod. He's wary of returning home because his father kicked him out as a child by sticking him on a ship to another continent and telling him to never return. However, to better understand what is haunting Brod and causing him to lose himself, we need to gather information from his father, who seems to know something about the creature in question.

My character, Cael, wants to try and repair those broken bonds between father and son, and so they are putting together a performance that they hope will encapsulate Brod's journey and struggles to show how far he's come and how much he's grown. (Before anyone asks, I'm working with the player in question, because I know how delicate a line it is to do something like this without stepping on the other person's toes or make it seem like it's all about me, me, me.)

Cael is, unbeknownst to them for reasons, a bard, but their main focus isn't music like many of the stereotypical D&D and Pathfinder bards. They tell their stories through dance and shadow puppetry, casting spells to augment the experience for the audience. For deeply personal stories, they'll use their innate ability, which allows them to share their memories with those who are willing, albeit without sound. It's a deeply intimate experience because those who view their memories feel and experience the world as they have.

Sunday night, as I was falling asleep, the overarching "dance" came to mind. Both Cael and Brod wield swords, though Cael's is more for meditative kata practice, since their physical prowess isn't great. Both have practiced kata forms together. After considering the duality of their two backstories and the parallels between them, I envisioned them performing the kata together for this performance.

So, per the GM's advice, I reached out to the other player and described to him what I had in mind with what details I could share, given that the message I sent him was on Wednesday, one day after I'd begun developing the fragments of scenes in my head.

The other player agreed that Brod could be convinced to perform with Cael and that the performance overall would probably ease his worry about talking to his father.

Well now, that just opens up the flues for me, doesn't it?

I had been considering how Cael could tell this story as concisely but as poignantly as possible. After all, I want it to be engaging for everyone, not just the two involved. Our characters have traveled together for so long, there are any number of scenes or memories that I could include. So, I made a list of potential candidates, balancing between showing sweeter tender moments juxtaposed against moments of tension, since Brod and Cael (Efial at the time) did not get along well. I'll be the first to admit it was mostly Efial's fault, but some of their disdain for Brod was justified.

1. Cael's Awakening Day outside of Shipton

2. Fighting the Animate Dream

3. Their Duel Outside the Church of Phusyn

4. Shipton Prison w/ Aler (I'm undecided on this one, but Cael thinks it's important for Brod to see how Aler looked)

5. Flashes of certain smaller/briefer memories:

   - Aguing at the docks

   - Brod agreeing to help them the first time (where you noted that Efial realizes that Brod is their friend)

   - The growing frustration as he continuously calls them a god

6. Standing outside the Church of Therys for the first time, then jumping to them donating the rest of their money and lighting the incense before meditating. Brod isn't in this memory, but they're there because of him, so trying to show how he's affected them and changed them over time

I know this doesn't make sense to anyone else but those involved quite yet, but much of the time when creatives begin a project, the rough stages of it make little sense to anyone else but themselves.

I tend to think of endings first. No idea why. It's just how I operate. The struggle I face is connecting all the pieces to that point. In this case, it was easy envisioning Brod overcoming the creature that's been summoning him and ridding himself of his curse once and for all. However, until I knew what sort of venue would be available to us, I couldn't properly imagine how the shadow puppetry would work.

So, I asked the GM, and he said that Brod's house probably wouldn't be spacious enough, which meant it would have to take place outside. Orrrrr in a Cozy Cabin! Thank you spellcasting.

Are we taking some liberties by disregarding it rules as written and removing beds and the like so that there's more space? Yes. Yes, we are. Because who needs a fireplace when you can have a ring of candles as your light source? Perfect for someone who manipulates the shadows!

With that established, I began jumping around to different portions of the narrative and expanding on them. I wrote a temporary pre-performance introduction that could change depending on what the other player wants to do and set out to record on screen what I see in my head. Remember how I said that certain pieces make that process easier?

This is the one I've been listening to as I've been filling in the details. Since keeping to one point of view (PoV) can be confusing when switching between shadow puppets, memories, and the characters themselves, I utilize all three perspectives to keep each portion distinct:

• 1st Person: The characters themselves (though I have yet to receive word on whether or not Brod's player wants to take part in sharing the narrative itself, so that could get tricky)

• 3rd Person: The shadow puppets that Cael manipulates

• 2nd Person: Memories

Between jumping around to different memories and visualizing what happens in real time, I've written and edited this rough draft sequence thus far:

We’ll begin with the usual bow and step in unison, entering the first form of the kata. We move with synchronicity, mirrors of one another, flowing from one form to the next, each motion slow and deliberate.

Shadows engulf the walls, creating the illusion of an endless expanse. One, two, then several pinpricks of negative space glitter through the shadows, and for a moment we perform in a field of starlight. A band of red Light stretches from one wall, across the ceiling, to the opposite wall behind Flink and Brod’s father, creating a sense of depth. It lingers momentarily.

A thunderous explosion echoes through the cabin, and the Light tears into a Rift, through which a realistic Fire Mephit lunges for us. We pivot simultaneously once the Mephit flies within reach, and we carve through it with our swords in a cross slash. The Mephit scatters into shadowy dust across the floor and disappears.

The rend heals and disappears. The stars twinkle to darkness.

The shadows part, revealing the walls of the cabin, and they take the form of three figures walking: a human, a ratfolk, and a kayal. The ratfolk pauses, waves, and leaves, and from where she departs, another figure joins the walking duo, a bipedal fox lackadaisically twirling a pistol on his finger.

The remaining shadows breathe with me and touch upon the shadows of everyone in the room, like a gentle hand resting on your shoulder from a friend. After a moment or two, as Brod and I come to a natural pause in our kata, I’ll cast my first memory.

At first, you see only darkness, before the world spirals out from you like a set of fractals taking shape. 

You stand just inside the threshold to The Big Gentleman Inn. Brod has just taken his seat across from Estelle, his movements stiff and awkward, but she doesn’t seem to mind. You start to feel a twinge of heartache, but a force external to the memory protects you from the brunt of it. Instead, it directs your focus to the two lovebirds across the way as Brod presents the first of his three gifts: a ribbon, which Estelle uses to tie her hair into a ponytail. He then presents the second, a shawl that delights her. As she stands to put it on, he stands as well and walks behind her to clasp the third and final gift to the shawl: a brooch. Though she seemed hesitant by his actions at first, her face lights up as she admires her gifts. Smiling at how smoothly everything seems to be going, you go to join your friends at another table.

Once the memory ends, Brod and I resume our kata while Brod’s father regains his bearings. Aside from cutting down the Mephit, we haven’t yet directly faced one another. 

The three silhouettes walking along the wall come upon a gangly thing, small and humanoid, but unnaturally elongated. Flink fires at it, at the choker, but it ducks and leaps, latches onto the silhouette of Cael, who struggles to escape from its grasp, even by stabbing at it. The silhouette of Brod swings his blade, nearly bifurcating Cael as he decapitates the choker.

In that moment, Brod and I pivot again, and our blades lock with a resounding clang.

At the Zhiltan docks, you clasp Orro’s hand between both of yours and weep for the loss of her partner to Drasz. Echoes of your own recent loss compound your anguish, and you think, ‘How dare he. How dare he rub my nose in the dirt by flinging other people’s suffering in my face when I already admitted to being in the wrong.’ After Orro returns to work, you spin on Brod, anger spurring you to warn him to never weaponize casualties to push his own agenda again. Oh, how easily he retorts that Orro’s feelings speak for themselves, like he knows how it feels to have your other half ripped from you by forces outside your control. Like someone as belligerent and reckless as he pays an iota of regard to how his actions affect others. What does he understand of loss? 

Brod and I step apart simultaneously. The shadows along the walls elongate so that it looks as though we are standing on the deck of a ship, and there between us, as we’re sailing further and further from land, is the silhouette of Brod’s father walking away.

Veeeeerry rough draft of the beginning, minus the intro, but it does what I want for the time being. Whenever I find myself stuck on how to progress, I skip around to the memories I have in mind and write those. My Scrivener document looks like a mess between the above and the following, with gaps and notes of ideas in between different scenes or memories.

Awakening Day Memory
You sit in a small clearing far from any semblance of civilization, your chin resting on your knees. Before you, a music box tinks out a familiar melody, one you haven’t heard in a long time, and lose yourself in your grief. 

As the melody begins to slow, you reach toward it through blurry vision and are turning the key again when a shout from behind startles you from reminiscing on happier days. Fumbling, you twist the key the opposite direction, and the melody falls silent as you whip around to see Brod standing closer than you’d expected.

Hurriedly, you wipe at your eyes, demanding to know how he found you when you already know the answer. You curse yourself for the oversight. No one was supposed to find you today. It’s why you left Shipton in the first place and ventured half a day’s travel out into the wilderness, but there’s Brod, presenting you with a cake decorated with strawberries and…and are those four flaming sticks protruding from it? 

Ah. Candles. Right.

Well, he’s here now. You resign yourself to his company with a dry chuckle and invite him to join you, teasing him for making you cut your own cake.

Eating it pains you, because it reminds you of Valen’s desserts, but it fills you with such happiness that someone made sure you weren’t alone today.

You repay Brod’s kindness by telling him about the music box and why it’s special to you. He responds by slicing his hand open, twice because you heal it the first time, and promises that by this time next year you’ll be reunited with Valen.

You hesitantly ask if Brod would like to see him. Brod’s enthusiasm calms you, and you smile as you weave the shadows around the area to take the shape of a silhouette. The shadow flakes away, and your breath catches as it always does when you lock with those laughing indigo eyes. 

You snap back to yourself at Brod’s comment and laugh, wiping away more tears.

Ja, you can’t wait for Brod to meet him either and for Valen to ride Henry. He really would love that turtle.

Draft of the Animate Dream
Gripped by panic, you charge after the massive turtle crashing through this unfamiliar woods, leaping over tree roots and pushing aside lichen and low-hanging branches until ahead, you see Brod, lit by moonlight, shouting at a hooded silhouette hovering almost imperceptibly near the opposite edge of the clearing.

The figure lowers its hood, and long tendrils of hair float around it in a nightmarish veil.

Draft of The Duel
In the field just outside Church of Phusyn, you challenge Brod with your weapon drawn. You are at peace with dueling him, because it finally makes sense to you why Jaz confronts those who have wronged her in the pit. Sometimes the knot of conflicting emotions is just wound too tightly, relief snarled with betrayal, anger snarled with happiness, logic and understanding snarled with pain.

Brod tries to refuse, but you won’t let him, not this time. You appeal to his pride, calling out his full title as you click your heels together and begin hovering just above the ground. Both of you must bear responsibility for what happened, accident or no. Boiled down to its base components, Brod left you, no matter what the reason, and you chose not to follow.

The final memory below that I've been working on is an interesting one, because Cael wasn't present for it. However, there's a spell in the game called Object Reading that allows the caster to view the memory of an object up to so long ago depending on the strength at which it's cast. Cael cast this on an item Brod was wearing, and because of that, they were able to witness and experience Brod's short time in prison.

Shipton Prison
You’re punched in the chest with a dense concentration of self-loathing and anger. You were weak. You abandoned your friends and you hurt innocent people because you were weak. How could you? What if your friends are in danger? You were supposed to protect them. If anything happens to them, it’s your fault, because you let yourself be taken.

The intensity of that anger and those self-accusations lasts only a fraction of a second as some force seems to guide your attention outward, back to Aler, who stands on the other side of the prison cell looking in on your huddled form with an expression you don’t remember seeing at the time, but now that you have a clearer view, it reinforces your own memory.

You thought you’d see sadness and mistrust, but instead there’s a warmth to the concern on his face, like that of a father looking after his son.

Tuesday through today I've worked on this, primarily in the morning, since ideas come to me most easily then. After lunch, I've attempted to work on it more, but my attention dissolves rather quickly. To compromise, I've taken afternoons to switch between writing Cael's journal and listening to more music to find what fits.

Don't know how I'm going to make it work yet, but some of what I've been imagining fits very well for this piece.

(Can we just take a moment to appreciate how much of a beast this woman is?)

And this, my friends, is why not much else was accomplished this week. Oh, that and my fiancé's work schedule was wonky, since his coworker was on vacation. Womp womp.

Questions for Contemplation and Discussion:

• In what area of your life do you become so completely absorbed by what you're doing, you don't mind temporarily putting aside other goals to work on it?

• When you're working on a project, what do you do when you get stuck?

  • If you set it aside and go do something else (a viable and oftentimes good option), what do you do instead while the ideas percolate in the back of your mind?

• What is your niche if you have one? If you don't feel like you have one, what do you gravitate toward most when you work on something?

Other Notable Accomplishments:

• Wrote 9 Dream Messages for Cael averaging ~150 words per message, so ~1350 words total

• Worked out a couple days before my injury

• Transcribed Session 92 in a day, ~11,000 words

The Struggle Is Real:

• Injuries, am I right?

• Site related bugs, from the e-mailing system to asynchronous page updates.

• Honestly, this week, I think I'm doing well overall

This Week's Obligatory Cat Pic: All