Post by garamond on Jan 17, 2023 4:10:55 GMT
These special editions were not part of a write-in event, and are only chronicled for posterity's sake. - Garamond
SPECIAL EDITION ISSUE 1
The new year has arrived, and that is a perfect time to pause, do some reflections, and see where we're going. It is also a perfect time for a member of the Divine Order to remember that can literally peer through the veil and perform this, and shake off the rust and dust and get to work.
An explosive start
It feels like forever since I opened up a bottle of perfume oil and filled the air of the Yin & Yang room with sweet-smelling aromas. I set up my little table with the water basin, after having nearly frozen to death in the process of collecting some fresh spring water to fill it.
Then, there's the question to ask. What's going on that I'm curious about? Sometimes the simplest questions have the hardest road to finding answers. What have I been up to lately, to bother asking a question about?
I look down at the slightly damp violet silk clinging to my legs. Oh, right. I was asked to join the Eternal Order as a friendly face and scribe. That's a start.
Alright. Let's do this, Miss Gary. You're still awesome.
We're talking about rebirth and rejuvenation, and igniting interest in Nagnang's culture, as of late. It's a good start, to have a mindfulness about renewal at the top of the year. Lemongrass is a purifying oil, as is orange, but I find myself drawn to the former.
I shimmy to the basin and sit on my knees, ready to reverently pour a few drops of oil into the water, which is being stirred by my other hand holding a glass rod. I delicately tilt the vessel, biting my lip while doing my best to keep a steady hand to not overpour the substance--...
That scream you may have heard on the new year's night, about the 1st bell, that sounded like a cat whose tail was stepped on was none other than me as the glass vial shattered in my palm.
It cracked straight in half with an explosive force, with glass shards embedding in my hand, alongside the stinging of oils and blood dripping down my arm, into my lap, and all along the basin. Of course, in my panic, I immediately sling my arm, sending a swatch of red across the nearby wall.
How awful. How totally awful. OW. WHY?
Once I had exhausted myself of screaming, common sense returned to my fuzzy little brain, and I went about doctoring the injury. An hour later, with the help of a small pair of tweezers, I had gotten the glass out of my hand, and my offended paw was bandaged. I returned to the scene of the accident, where there was a waiting water basin, the contents tainted pink and lined with a thin film of oil.
Dear gods, my own reflection stared back at me, my eyes streaked from smeared eye makeup from the earlier hysterics. But, there is no such thing as a coincidence, and no such thing as a failed reading. There is always something to glean from these things. And, anyone that knows me is well aware that my readings sometimes (often) go awry, but are equally prone to offering insight.
What do we know?
Nagnang is a place of blood. Crack open any document in the palace library, and you'll have a story of war, loss, betrayal, and mystery to witness. Some of the tomes are literally specked in blood, with battles having been waged inside the the palace itself.
Because blood's natural state is inside the body, and as it's usually a bad sign when it's the contrary, we panic at first blush upon seeing it. This is perfectly normal. But, let's think a moment. When we are born, there is blood. We don't think anything of it, and we still celebrate the new born.
We, as humans, are born filthy and are then encouraged to scream to clear our lungs. And I did note before that we're thinking about rebirth and rejuvenation.
Now, I realize that's a fairly horrible metaphor to think about, but as I'm sitting here with my bandaged hand and wondering how I'm going to clean the walls this time, it's giving me time to mull it over.
That's how I'm being reborn in this new year - bloody, covered in oil, and screaming.
Conclusion
This blood isn't an omen. It's an encouragement to embrace change. It's also a reminder to look out for things that get that metaphorical blood running, to renew our interest and get us thinking.
What is gone is gone. Stains may remind us of what was there, but we ultimately nod to having witnessed it then prepare for the next stage of our lives.
We understand our past. We love our past, even the hurtful parts. And we survive past it. We don't linger on it, just like how our flesh knits and scars, and toughens.
Bleeding also serves to show us we're still alive. If we feel pain, we are existing. And that's the chance to continue serving, to continue learning, and evolving. We have a new Sage waving the gilded staff, and a full house of leaders that have the opportunity to bring in a new era, if we are willing.
Nagnang may be the Land of the Dead, but let us scream out in celebration that we are still breathing, and ready ourselves for a marvelous future.
Note to my Elder: I apologize for constantly ruining the paper and carpets every time I practice my lecanomancy.
With love and sparkles,
Garamond "Miss Gary" Beatrix
SPECIAL EDITION ISSUE 1
The new year has arrived, and that is a perfect time to pause, do some reflections, and see where we're going. It is also a perfect time for a member of the Divine Order to remember that can literally peer through the veil and perform this, and shake off the rust and dust and get to work.
An explosive start
It feels like forever since I opened up a bottle of perfume oil and filled the air of the Yin & Yang room with sweet-smelling aromas. I set up my little table with the water basin, after having nearly frozen to death in the process of collecting some fresh spring water to fill it.
Then, there's the question to ask. What's going on that I'm curious about? Sometimes the simplest questions have the hardest road to finding answers. What have I been up to lately, to bother asking a question about?
I look down at the slightly damp violet silk clinging to my legs. Oh, right. I was asked to join the Eternal Order as a friendly face and scribe. That's a start.
Alright. Let's do this, Miss Gary. You're still awesome.
We're talking about rebirth and rejuvenation, and igniting interest in Nagnang's culture, as of late. It's a good start, to have a mindfulness about renewal at the top of the year. Lemongrass is a purifying oil, as is orange, but I find myself drawn to the former.
I shimmy to the basin and sit on my knees, ready to reverently pour a few drops of oil into the water, which is being stirred by my other hand holding a glass rod. I delicately tilt the vessel, biting my lip while doing my best to keep a steady hand to not overpour the substance--...
That scream you may have heard on the new year's night, about the 1st bell, that sounded like a cat whose tail was stepped on was none other than me as the glass vial shattered in my palm.
It cracked straight in half with an explosive force, with glass shards embedding in my hand, alongside the stinging of oils and blood dripping down my arm, into my lap, and all along the basin. Of course, in my panic, I immediately sling my arm, sending a swatch of red across the nearby wall.
How awful. How totally awful. OW. WHY?
Once I had exhausted myself of screaming, common sense returned to my fuzzy little brain, and I went about doctoring the injury. An hour later, with the help of a small pair of tweezers, I had gotten the glass out of my hand, and my offended paw was bandaged. I returned to the scene of the accident, where there was a waiting water basin, the contents tainted pink and lined with a thin film of oil.
Dear gods, my own reflection stared back at me, my eyes streaked from smeared eye makeup from the earlier hysterics. But, there is no such thing as a coincidence, and no such thing as a failed reading. There is always something to glean from these things. And, anyone that knows me is well aware that my readings sometimes (often) go awry, but are equally prone to offering insight.
What do we know?
Nagnang is a place of blood. Crack open any document in the palace library, and you'll have a story of war, loss, betrayal, and mystery to witness. Some of the tomes are literally specked in blood, with battles having been waged inside the the palace itself.
Because blood's natural state is inside the body, and as it's usually a bad sign when it's the contrary, we panic at first blush upon seeing it. This is perfectly normal. But, let's think a moment. When we are born, there is blood. We don't think anything of it, and we still celebrate the new born.
We, as humans, are born filthy and are then encouraged to scream to clear our lungs. And I did note before that we're thinking about rebirth and rejuvenation.
Now, I realize that's a fairly horrible metaphor to think about, but as I'm sitting here with my bandaged hand and wondering how I'm going to clean the walls this time, it's giving me time to mull it over.
That's how I'm being reborn in this new year - bloody, covered in oil, and screaming.
Conclusion
This blood isn't an omen. It's an encouragement to embrace change. It's also a reminder to look out for things that get that metaphorical blood running, to renew our interest and get us thinking.
What is gone is gone. Stains may remind us of what was there, but we ultimately nod to having witnessed it then prepare for the next stage of our lives.
We understand our past. We love our past, even the hurtful parts. And we survive past it. We don't linger on it, just like how our flesh knits and scars, and toughens.
Bleeding also serves to show us we're still alive. If we feel pain, we are existing. And that's the chance to continue serving, to continue learning, and evolving. We have a new Sage waving the gilded staff, and a full house of leaders that have the opportunity to bring in a new era, if we are willing.
Nagnang may be the Land of the Dead, but let us scream out in celebration that we are still breathing, and ready ourselves for a marvelous future.
Note to my Elder: I apologize for constantly ruining the paper and carpets every time I practice my lecanomancy.
With love and sparkles,
Garamond "Miss Gary" Beatrix