Teller
all stories are true somewhere.
setting: fantasy
currently: intrigued by the Inverted Cathedral
all stories are true somewhere.
setting: fantasy
currently: intrigued by the Inverted Cathedral
Name: Teller
AKA: Teller is all there is.
Gender: n/a. The answer to the question, "are you a man or a woman?" is usually, "No."
Orientation: Attracted to all genders, still a little bit hung up on the Queen of Elfland.
Species: Human
Age: Somewhere between twenty-one and twenty-eight; this is something of a complicated question.
Occupation: Travelling bard, entertainer, and recorder of stories.
Hair: Auburn, curly, not cut with any particular skill; a mop that hangs slightly past their jaw
Eyes: Green
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 110 lbs
Appearance: Teller has red-brown hair, light brown skin, and is fairly covered in freckles. They have a strong jawline and a smile that is always higher on one side than the other. Hair never manages to look tidy, particularly after being brushed. Generally possesses an expression of knowing something you don't. Short, but wiry; the build of a climber or a dancer. Calloused fingertips, long fingers.
Style: Clothes of middling status, being neither threadbare nor extravagant; Teller prefers lush fabrics to intricate designs. Terribly fond of green, perhaps to excess, with a bottle-green cloak they are rarely seen without (it has so very many hidden pockets). Typical outfit is a belted tunic, trousers, and leather boots folded over at the knee. For special occasions may add a tabard, on which is embroidered a horse at the join of three rivers, and a broad-brimmed hat. If they've encountered any chickens lately, the hat may even have a feather in it. Never seen without harp in hand or harp-case over their shoulder.
Personality: Teller is a performer, first and foremost. Charming, erudite, witty; they make their living telling stories, and so even the most mundane recounting of an event becomes an epic. An optimist, or at the very least good at pretending to be an optimist. Something of a chameleon, in that they are very good at reading a crowd and presenting the right face. Slow to anger, but they are very proud; nothing can raise their ire like humiliation, especially if it's public. Energetic, yet a very good listener. They do genuinely care about what other people have to say, even if sometimes they seem to pay more attention to how something is said than the actual content. A hedonist, given the chance. Enjoys the attention that comes with leadership, but they know they're not cut out for much responsibility.
Teller doesn't want the kind of fame that comes from being installed in a castle and lauded with gifts. They want a different kind of renown: they want people all over to know their name, to tell their stories, to speak with admiration of the incredible bard and their hypnotizing music. It's for this reason that Teller is still traveling, despite the fact that they could likely win over most nobles and be granted a place in court.
Powers: When Teller tells a tale, you can't help but listen. It's less compulsion, and more fascination; listeners are lightly enchanted, and those closest to Teller can often see the events they recount taking place, even smell, taste, or hear them. There is also some projective empathy which occurs, though this has a much stronger hold on those who are likely to be sympathetic to the tale's protagonist. This ability can come from a purely verbal tale, but is much more powerful when accompanied by Teller's harp. They can control the spread and strength of this power to some degree.
In payment for this gift-- for it was a gift, and not a birthright-- Teller must truthfully answer any question asked directly to them. They are compelled to answer, but they can choose which words to use; if they can weasel out with clever wordplay they absolutely will. But when ultimately confronted with a question they cannot avoid, Teller cannot tell a lie.
History: Sometimes, when the people of a village you've never been to before tell you to avoid the green hill just beyond the town, you should listen. Sometimes, when people you consider to be uneducated hicks tell you that the elves will steal you away, you should do more than just pretend to believe.
Teller lost seven years under the hill. In that time, though it felt ever so brief, they saw wonders to shake mortal minds. Things beautiful and terrible, creatures of nightmare and legend. When they left, they were offered a choice, and a gift.
Teller was a good bard, before. They were a bard of legend, after.
Say surrender. Say alabaster. Switchblade.
Honeysuckle. Goldenrod. Say autumn.
Say autumn despite the green
in your eyes. Beauty despite
daylight. Say you’d kill for it. Unbreakable dawn
mounting in your throat.
My thrashing beneath you
like a sparrow stunned
with falling.
— Ocean Vuong, from “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” Poetry (December 2014)
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toon town - by kaythebold - 09-12-2016, 11:42 PM
RE: toon town - by kaythebold - 09-16-2016, 06:22 PM
RE: toon town - by kaythebold - 09-25-2016, 04:36 PM