I nearly met the boatman for the first time in 3.5 years in Fallen London. Technically I didn't die. But technically I wouldn't have, and in a way I did - the lines blur together down there.
It began when I discovered that I needed to capture the Storm-Bird. I have no idea why, and I think I need three of them. It's a creature of Parabola, the dreamlike world behind mirrors, but I had hunted such creatures before. But not this one, because this one has requires a very special lure... It only appears to those who are completely and utterly insane.
So I captured a truly nightmarish Parabolan albatross, donned a very mushroomy bonnet, and started feeding the Empress's dog biscuits. I still don't know the story of that dog. In life it's as adorable as a puppy, in dreams it is The Eater of Chains and seems to resent attention.
Well, I miscalculated. I needed to go insane in the mirror-world, not London. Going insane in London sends you to... Somewhere Else. The Mirror-Marshes, very probably Parabola, but not in any state to hunt a bird. I wandered there for a while, learning of the cities that fell, before awakening in cold sweat and strange welts. Then returning undeterred to her deathless majesty's court and adorable doggo.
This time I was more sensible - oh, so sensible! I walked through the mirror with nerves frayed but intact, took stock of my camp of rubbery hirelings, THEN donned my moldy hat.
What followed was described as "a conflagration", wherein one's nightmares forget that they aren't real. My body melted like wax though, so it wasn't all bad. Mostly just chaos, and nonsense, and two black dots swooping down - the eyes of a great bird. Talons grasped my arm and saved me from myself, pulling me away. It left me to recover, flapping away with my confusion. And something more - either by accident or by overzealous healing, it also pulled away some of my understanding of Parabola, that dangerous knowledge. I choose to believe it wanted to help. And now I had its scent.
The merest glimmer of a hint of its scent, but that was enough! I wandered Parabola for hours, triangulating it. Pinning it down. Confronting it and watching it flee. Finding its nest. Ambushing it in whatever passes for night in that place.
It was a vicious struggle, with high stakes. It had stolen my academic understanding of Parabolan anatomy, and I continually failed to harm it. I kept trying, my human body coming apart - still human and alive, never an undead! Soulless sure, and of oft-fractured mind, but I clung to my body's continuance as a last little piece of myself.
If I had pushed any father I would have lost even that despicable token. Instead I barely... by a hair's breath... survived the encounter. 2 points away from meeting the boatman. I'm an excellent chess player, but I never play with the normal pieces.
I think, maybe, I've had enough of Parabola for a while. For months I zailed the zee in zearch of my zoul... pirating random tradeships on the very, very rare chance they might have it. Somehow I feel like that would be the better course, instead of plaguing this bird who saves the lost in the land behind the mirrors.
Fallen London
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Topic: How did you last die? (Read 2418032 times)