The Storyteller
@extinctTales
You can call me Stripe, or Story or anything! Just don't be rude! Any pronouns, storyteller and performer. Hi!
Hi, hello (greetings!). I realised I should explain this! I tell the stories of the forgotten dead- you know, the average person, not the famous heroes! That's boring- there's so many of them already! Hope you enjoy them! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
I've been categorising and walking all day, whew!! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Memory recorded𓆪
The spirits are quiet tonight... Maybe I'll post an older story. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
This is a story about an explorer. He was such a nervous thing, scared of the world around him. He spent most of his youth locked up in his hive, too scared to face the world. His lusus didn't mind- why would it? It had it's ward safe and happy. It taught him to dig and expand the tunnels they lived in. To make an underground labyrinth of safety. One night, the explorer dug into a cave. It was huge! It was beautiful. An underground lake with treasures from the world above. Things we considered trash. The explorer loved them! He spent hours going through the pile, cataloging everything. Piece by piece, the rest of the world started to seem less scary. Maybe all the things he'd heard from his lusus weren't true! He even started to use his husktop, talking to others. He had friends. His friends told him his lusus was right, the world was scary. But they agreed he should at least try! The explorer started small. Two steps out of the hive tunnels. A hand on the grass. He went back and told his lusus what he had seen. His lusus was scared, and so happy for him. The next night, a few more steps. A flower this time. And so on, the explorer took his steps into the universe. Each time telling his lusus what he had found. And looking up to the stars. Hoping to one night find himself among them. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Memory recorded𓆪
Hi, hello! Would you like a story? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
This is a story about a lamb. It was a darling little thing (so cute!), so beloved by all that they were cherished. And oh, how sweet they were! Oh, how gentle! Oh, how the other had to keep it from the wolves of the world. For the lamb (sweet thing) was trusting, and trust is dangerous. The lamb bled easily. Bright lime green that made others want to bring it to slaughter. No one ever wanted to be the one to do it. Something in the lamb's eyes made it hard to kill. Perhaps it was the innocence(so sweet!). The way that it believed no one would hurt it. Don't you want to be its friend? Don't you just want to rest(so tired)? What a glorious thing, this lamb was. Now, one night, the lamb thought it would save a wolf. One of those awful, violent things(ew!). Fangs stained with blood and pushers full of rage. One came to the village. Injured and limp (Ow!). And the lamb said they were innocent. That they were just a dog, trained to kill, and not a wolf at all (oh my!). No one could bear to make the lamb cry (waaah!), so they agreed. They took the wolf in, and the lamb was right (yay!)! The wolf wasn't so scary after all. It was just a dog. Scared and injured and alone (sad!). They were all so happy that they didn't notice how the dog changed (uh-oh!). Not till they woke up to screaming. For you see, the lamb was right. The wolf was a dog. And the dog's master had come to collect his stray. ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
Hi, hello(greetings!). What's going on? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Story found𓆪
The votes are in! This story is about a friend. She was so kind (aww!) to everyone. If they needed help, they asked her (yay!). She never asked for anything in return, oh no. She was so sweet and loved by anyone she met that if her attention was on you, you felt like the most important thing in the world. She had a smile of stars and a way of making you feel you were something special(yay!). Others were in her orbit, this darling little gold. Oh, how they loved her. Oh, how they'd kill for her. Their bright little star. And oh, how they wept when she died (so sad!). Such an unremarkable death, they said, for someone so bright. Killed by a wild lusus. Nothing big or important. They miss her still, but their memories are fading. Poor little star. Burnt out too soon. #death ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Saga Archived𓆪
Okay! I've got three stories here! React to pick one! ♥️ - a story about a sailor ♦️ - a story about a friend ♣️ - a story about a tailor ♠️ - a different one! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Story found𓆪
Hi, hello (greetings!). I realised I should explain this! I tell the stories of the forgotten dead- you know, the average person, not the famous heroes! That's boring- there's so many of them already! Hope you enjoy them! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
This is a story about a writer. Or maybe that's what she dreamed to be (sad!). Little jade, never respected, all she wanted was to be remembered. Pages and pages of work that would have been her record (wow!). But oh! It was never published, never saw the light of the moon. The words never read by someone other than her. She was so quiet, so polite. So hardworking (good job!). Dear little jadeblood, who kept to herself and dreamt. She never took the leap to try become something greater. Her moiraillegance was her undoing - an exploded husktop was *their* end, you see. Lovely little jade, curious little thing, she needed to know why. And BOOM! Up her own went! Her dreams along with it (sad!). Don't worry, little jade. Your friend recalls you still. And I'm here to make sure you're remembered beyond that (yay!). ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Story found𓆪
Will you take me seriously if I start going by Stripe? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Saga Archived𓆪
I guess I should pick out a less ominous name, huh? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
What sort of story would you like to hear? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
So many stories here, how wonderful! ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Memory recorded𓆪
Sorry! That was a bit of an odd story to start today. Do you want another? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Tale told𓆪
This story is about a human! How interesting, that's rare! This little human was taken from their home (sad!) and kept as a novelty. One day, they escaped (yay!), but Alternia isn't kind to humans. Our sun burns and our rain is acid (boo-hoo!) and they had to pretend to be a troll (uh-oh!). But they did well! They were a rustblood, for a while, and then a bronzeblood. They did a great job of keeping a small and unremarkable existence. They had friends who loved them and a lusus that tolerated them and one day, they got sick. Sick in a way that couldn't be fixed by us because they weren't us (oh no!). So they died. Simple as that. An unremarkable end to a remarkable life. #death ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Memory recorded𓆪
This story is about you! Juuuust kidding, you're too alive for any of my stories. This story is about a detecterror. She was so curious as a wiggler. They only got more curious as they grew older. She needed to find the truth, no matter how dangerous it was. Once there was a question in her mind she had to find the answer. She would look and look and look and look! Under rocks and in the ocean and deep into forests. She looked and sought, round and round, all spun up in their own head. (Whee!) And oh, look at that. There's something familiar there. And there. And there! The little detecterror realised she was back where she started. And oh, her pusher couldn't handle it. Over she went. Too curious for her own good. ... Hm! This story is a warning, but for who? #death ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Memory recorded𓆪
This is a story about a small one. They weren't that brave, either. They were young and kind. They were loved. That's the important bit, right? They liked to create. They did pottery, making something out of the primordial dirt that we once crawled from. Isn't that beautiful? They had a lusus, of course, a great mole. Their life was lost in an unremarkable accident. But their friends remember them, each in a different way. And through their stories, they live on. #death #stories ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Memory recorded𓆪
This is a story about a gardener. He wasn't always that, mind you. Once upon a time he was a warrior. He was a thing of blood and ruin and pain. And he would go to fight as he was ordered. And he would return for a while, and the cycle would repeat. He was good at it, leaving with medals and the bodies of others in his wake. Until one night, he met an old woman in the road. She asked if he was happy. He told her that he didn't need to be, because he was a soldier, and he could not ask for more. She asked him again. He told her no, and began to move on. Suddenly, she reaches out for his arm! He's pulled back towards him, despite his attempts to break free, and she looks him in the eye and asks. "Are you happy?" For a third and final time. Now, the soldier's lusus has taught him to be careful of threes, and to answer when something asks a third time. So the soldier nodded, and the stranger smiled. She reached out and pressed a seed into his palm. When the soldier returned home again, he planted it. There was no information online or in books, so he simply had to dedicate himself to the seed. Planting it, feeding it, and watering it. When the seed sprouted, he got other plants to keep it company. He found he enjoyed it. It was easy to grow things like this and he felt so proud when they bloomed. When the seed bloomed, the gardener put away his uniform. The greenery overtook his hive, but he didn't mind. He was happy. That's all that mattered. @todaysDreamer @gardenGuided #violence #death ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Saga Archived𓆪
Would you like a story? ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏ 𓆩Story found𓆪









