“Gather around, little children, and I’ll tell you a tale.
Many years ago, long before you were born, there was an author with several lengthy stories that were featured and impressive to some. He was a respected member of our community, revered by fanfiction authors who only had ten percent of his passion and resolve.
Then one day, after living here for four peaceful years, he wanted to expand his horizons. No longer was he satisfied writing about little ponies and halflings; he wanted to write about something that mattered. Something insane, weird, controversial, risky, potentially deeply offensive, spiritually serious, scientifically upending, philosophically inspired, personal, politically charged and mind-melting.
He set about his task with vigor, delving deep into his mind and bringing forth ideas so unheard of, so deeply problematic… he was sure everyone would be astounded by his work.
So sure was he that he went into the capitol building of CYStia. On the very ground we stand he made a grand declaration, declaring his story to have described ideas that would upend almost every consensus on such matters, but that worked nonetheless.
His speech was interrupted as our king whisked him away to the Writing Workshop (which he deemed the proper place for such discussion). The conversation did not end there, however, despite the usual inactivity in that sector.
The grand declaration was declared to be “hubris” but the story itself was heavily awaited by all. Our curiosity was piqued, our minds were intrigued. Alas, there was nothing to do but wait.
Then it happened. The story was released into the world.
The crowd spilled over the fences to satiate their curiosity by tearing into the story, shredding it to pieces in their excitement (“the crowd” being the five or so citizens who actually read, of course). He watched in terror as they chewed up his beloved work with ravenous appetites and drooled all over something so close to his heart.
It was more than he could take. He tried in vain to engage in conversation with the newly formed mob, but the discussion soon became violent and the hero of our tale was injured in the conflict.
He trotted away to tend to his wounds, telling the kingdom he would not return ever again.
The citizens voiced skepticism over this claim, saying he had exaggerated before and likely would do it again. He remained quiet, though… for like ten whole minutes.
The chatter of the people reached his ears, all the way up in Lurker Mountain where he had set up his camp. It drew him down like the shiniest of red apples, and he again rejoined the epic battle raging below.
Then he spoke more, and more, but the citizens of our fair kingdom had had it. There were attempts at a treaty, but both sides were far too riled up and it was decided that there should be a break.
And so he left, and this time it seemed as though he may not return for an extended amount of time. Few believed he would disappear forever, but time went on and not a single neigh was heard.
Until suddenly, there he was, back in the lounge talking once more. Could it be? Could he have really gotten over himself and decided to rejoin society?
No.
He had come back to try and leave on better terms, because for some reason he really cared about what this random site on the internet thought about him. He came and said hello just to tell us goodbye.
It is said he will return someday, and once again begin writing whimsical tales of great reknown. Perhaps this day may even be within your lifetimes.”
But actually, I do hope you’re doing okay, flutter. You’ve contributed much to this site and are always welcome here, should you decide to return.
