paradisalogs | Letter the First

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Letter the First

[in the early morning, Lemony slipped out of the castle, shrouded from the knees down in a fog that rose off the snow, giving it all the appearance that it had a ghostly double lying on top of it, vying for space. wisps of it rose from the cobblestones and danced over the ice in the town fountain. by the time he reached the door of Violet's workshop, her guardian was rubbing his gloved hands together against the chill, so that they would not fumble as he quietly worked his messenger bag open. the leather straps protested slightly in the cold, but he was able to withdraw the letter carefully folded within, and slip it through the mail slot, sure not to catch the scarlet wax seal on the brass as it dropped. there was a flutter deep in his chest, as though he had set a bird free, rather than a message, and he nodded once to himself before turning away.

cold or no cold, morning was the best time to explore a town. perhaps he'd find some fresh greens at a grocer for his friend Jennifer to eat, now that she was a turtle, or a small cafe where he could sit and enjoy a cup of tea. the day that stretched out in front of him was entirely his... and he wasn't quite sure what to do with it. it felt oddly light...

one long, heavy letter lighter, as a matter of fact.

there were a lot of things he didn't know what to do with, these days. and he was beginning to find that it was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.]

Dearest Violet and Sunny,

Are you familiar with the idea of the palimpsest? It is a Latin word, which refers to a document which has had its previous contents scraped or erased away, so that the paper can be used again for a new purpose. The word itself comes from Greek for "scraped again", as paper used to be made from much stronger material, from which the ink truly could be scraped away. In many cases, when the paper was used for a second time, the marks made by its former writer could still be seen beneath the new letters.

I am not saying this to teach you a new sort of code, though it is true that palimpsests can be a very fine delivery method for messages one would rather keep secret. You may search this letter all you like, and you will see no afterimage, no ghosts of letters past. And yet, I still feel as though this letter is a palimpsest, as the things I wish to write to you about carry the echoes of messages I wrote long ago, even while I would speak of things that are entirely, wholly, heart-poundingly new. It may also help to think of the things I have already disclosed to you as part of this palimpsest, so that I do not find myself knee-deep in the tedious - a word which here means "causing a waste of ink and cramping hands" - chore of repeating myself.

Many times, I have said that I am honored by the opportunity to be your guardian, but it is not the sort of honor one feels upon receiving the key to a city, a trophy for a spelling bee, a larger office in a corner with brightly lit windows, or even a free scoop of ice cream on a hot day for being patient and waiting in line while other less responsible people ahead of you have dropped their ice cream on the pavement for careless reasons and lost it forever. It is the sort of honor that comes with knowing that you are the keeper of a treasure: like the boy with the key to the magical cupboard, or the young beginning spy with a notebook full of dear secrets, or the girl who finds a garden and learns to make it grow. But it is so, so much more than that, when one considers the palimpsest beneath: if, for example, the boy had once had another cupboard which shattered, or the spy a secret that could not be kept, or the girl had once lost a vast and singular greenhouse in a terrible fire. Imagine, then, the way they would feel upon discovering such treasures or being entrusted with them. It would not matter if the cupboard was made of sturdier, more shatterproof material, or the notebook were the sort that could be written in in the rain or locked with a key, or the garden were full of hardy plants that could grow back after being burnt. They would be treasures all the same, and even more dear for it.

A treasure is not always guarded because of its worth to others. Sometimes it is guarded because of what it means to the guardian.

Faithfully yours,

((OOC: Now that you've all enjoyed your dose of feelings, consider this an open town log.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That's the fungus, right? What makes it so poisonous?

Oh, it was bred to be so.... When it opens, the spores spread through the air, and if inhaled, slowly collapse the airways of their victims. The spores spreads very quickly in enclosed spaces, as well.

Oh my goodness!! How terrifying! And horseradish really clears them out?

It does, yes. I'm not entirely sure as to how the chemistry behind it works, but that is the reason that a large horseradish factory was built on Lousy Lane - to combat the effects of the fatal fungus should an outbreak occur.

I see! Gosh, am I sure glad there's nothing like that where I'm from, earth or otherwise!

[now, that caught his interest, as it wasn't a phrase he had expected to hear her say in such a serious context]

"Or otherwise"?

Of course, I can't be too sure, even after five months I doubt I've seen everything-

[And then she realizes you asked a question.]

Oh! I'm sorry! I was just thinking in terms of what has happened back home. I'm playing a game with my friends, and we all have our very own planets.

That's quite alright: any conversation of merit has its deviations from the subject for the sake of variety and depth. .... Besides, we've likely exhausted the topic of Mycelium within a conversational scope. And I must say, your remark about individual planetary holdings intrigues me. How did you and your friends come by such unique interstellar real estate?

Gosh! Well it's kind of a long story - probably longer than even I know of, now that I think about it. But I can try to explain it.

You see, back home, my friends and I were able to access a very elite game in its beginning stages called Sburb. This might be hard to believe, but it can literally change reality, and you have to physically enter the game through a series of events! When you enter it, you get your very own planet to explore.

... That sounds like an extremely complicated game. I can understand why gaining access to it would be considered elite ... but even setting up such interplanetary travel would be exorbitantly expensive. However did you and your friends afford it - and what sort of company could have the capital to fund such an endeavor? And for that matter ... what on earth was the goal of gameplay?

[is that enough questions? if not, he has more. lots, lots more]

It was a free release of the alpha version, so it was still under testing, but is more or less playable. It was funded by Betty Crocker Corporation, of course, and as for the goal...

[Augh, thinking about Calliope now. She misses her funny alien friend who knew everything.]

...I have been told by an excellent source that it can create a new universe.

... That sounds quite impossible, but I've said the same of many things I've seen since I arrived here. So for the moment, I suppose, your tale will have both the benefit of my doubt and the suspension of my disbelief.

[he thinks about what she said for a moment, then frowns deeply, all the same]

But the creation of universes seems far too dangerous and unstable a thing to release in an early, untested form, let alone to children...!

[Respect points for the skepticism soaring.]

I don't blame you in the least for thinking that. It is quite impossible! But I've seen it happen with my very own eyes. Well, that and a great deal more.

Oh, don't worry! Aside from the monsters we have to fight, the game isn't too dangerous. And we figured out how to beat them pretty quickly, so we're okay. Besides, there are other people here who have played their own versions of the game, too, and they're okay...although I think we all agree that the game can be pretty awful.

"Aside from the" --- Jane! You -- [he looks horrified AND worried, to the point where his eyes are probably only staying in his head through the grace of God]

You shouldn't be fighting monsters in the first place!

[To be honest, she doesn't blame you for the reaction, either.]

But we have to fight them, Mr. Snicket! It's not like you can reason with a skeleton creature without a brain!

I suppose you've a point - but skeletons without brains shouldn't be able to do anything in the first place, either. Let alone engage adolescents in life-threatening combat.

No, I agree. They really shouldn't. But game logic never quite lines up with actual logic all the time. It can be handy that it doesn't, though. In some situations.

Oh? [Jane certainly has his full attention, now] Much like this place, it would seem. I don't suppose you'd care to share an example?

Mm! A lot like it, really! But it's also very different.

Well...what's a good way to explain this? In the game...you've played video games before, haven't you Mr. Snicket? You know how you can have extra lives in the game if you die?

I have not, personally, though I am vaguely familiar with the concept, yes.... [his bros furrows. he doesn't like where this is going]

[She gives him a sheepish smile. This isn't easy to admit, and she doesn't like bringing it up.] Well. At home, in the game, I...died. But my friend Dirk-

[And she's just had her fight with Dirk around now, so she pauses for a moment, biting her lip and reconsidering her words.]

...Well, I was brought back to life, and that's the important thing. I wouldn't have gotten that chance, if not for the game.

But... [he winces] Not that I mean any lack of gratitude or enthusiasm on regard to your continued existence... Quite far from it! ... But, you said that you died within the game. Does that not mean that if you had not played it in the first place, you would still be alive, regardless?

Well...I'm not sure how to explain it, but I don't think I couldn't not play.

Out of a sense of obligation, or the careful and conniving forza del destino, as it were?

Something like that, yes.

Letter the First

I literally looked that up just now, holy crap

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