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Legends of Ourselves
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Jarandhel Dreamsinger
Arlington, VA

Site Admin
Saturday, 28th January, 2012 - 12:08 pm
Member Since: Friday, 20th June, 2008
Forum Posts: 540
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Image EnlargerAround a flickering campfire in the center of a forest glade, a cloaked and hooded figure speaks to those who listen just beyond the fire’s glow.


“Long ago, in the distant mists of otherkin-community prehistory, forums and mailing lists were places where otherkin could gather.  Actual places, existing in the never-never of the virtual world.  Glades where faeries danced and satyrs caroused.  Taverns where dragons shared a drink with angels.  Deep hidden forests where elves prowled.”


He pauses for a moment, gazing into the fire and thinking back on those bygone days.


“At some point, our community lost that.  Forums and lists became stale dead things, with no living presence to them.  Even the other people you interacted with on the lists stopped being vibrantly nonhuman.  In many cases you wouldn’t know what the people you chatted with were unless you specifically asked them.  No one described their non-human forms in the course of their posts anymore unless asked to, and certainly never in the context of performing an action in that form.  And, at the same time, no one really told stories of their nonhumanity anymore: either memories of the past, or experiences in the present.  A time of legends had ended.”


The figure stands, slowly removing his cloak and casting it aside before turning away from the fire to face those who have been listening.  On his brow are two antlers like those of a roe deer.  He has long brown hair reaching down between his shoulder blades, swept back behind his slightly pointed ears.  His eyes are a piercing green, even by firelight, and his smile is somehow mischievous.  His torso is bare beneath the cloak, save for some tatoos on his left side and on both of his arms, the meaning of which is not readily apparent.  They look somewhat tribal, but also suggest a language of some kind.  As your gaze drifts lower, you see that his smooth white skin ends at his waist, his lower body the furred hindquarters of a stag.  He steps towards you with a grin and continues.


“It ended, but it has not been forgotten.  And with magic, with will, and with stories and memories it can yet be again.  I offer this place: this glade, this fire, this mystic forest, as one step in its restoration.  May the Fae, Elves, Dragons, Angels, and all of their myriad kin, come again and revel in this space.  May we find that sense of Wonder again.”


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Jarandhel Dreamsinger
Arlington, VA

Site Admin
Friday, 16th March, 2012 - 3:48 am
Member Since: Friday, 20th June, 2008
Forum Posts: 540
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Had some images laying around from the old splash pages and decided they’d go well with this post. alien

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