Friday, August 7, 2009

Connecticon 2009 - A Folk Tale

Once upon a time there was a young woman who started a magazine and spent a great deal of time at conventions. She was a business person who loved words and art. Then years passed and the magazine became suspended in time and the young woman was then known for hosting staged events, because she loved fabric and words and humor. And then her worlds collapsed a bit, and then a bit more, and the world that the conventions were in was not one of her worlds anymore.

And the young woman was no longer young, but she was asked by explorers to work as a guide and chaperone through that world. Like Hunter in Neverwhere but without the personal agenda, she took them through the doors that they wanted opened, protected them when they needed it, and threw them loose when she felt they did not need her anymore. She taught them they ways of the roads, they would be hunters themselves now.

Then someone asked her to guide a ghost. The challenge was too much to pass up and so the doors opened again and this time there were Poppets.

You cannot lie to a Poppet. So what happens when a Poppet asks and you aren't sure of the answer?

You open the door together and see what there is to be seen.

You see the drive and talent and ambition of someone who knows the roads and has the business sense - and a love of words and humor and art.

You see the work of hands and objects walking the fine lines between craft and trend and mystery.

You find the energy that made you walk the path before bottled and packaged with the slight hints of irony.

You find the sustenance that used to be smuggled in only for those in the know, but now are the hallmark of the fen.

You find fun with cardboard boxes.

Interaction with shadows of Id.

Opportunities to see the world in a dot.

The ability to share cynicism with Cthulu.

Cross marketing opportunities for the Poppet Cafe.

And that indeed, is what they did.

When it is over, the Poppet stares at her. They've walked the roads together. A hiccup in time that leaped a decade unwrinkles in front of them. Looking out the Poppet asks again:

"Who are you when you are not the Hunter and you are not the Host?"

She thinks for a bit, and tells the truth.

"I'm not sure I know. Maybe we need more doors."

And thus unsettled, they move forward.

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