Post by Zazu on Oct 26, 2006 21:12:06 GMT -5
Tree of Creation(#533R)
The baobab stands as a secondary monolith to Pride Rock. It is its counterpoint, its companion. The Tree of Creation's trunk is grooved, and looks as though it may be a few smaller trees twisted together. They open up, as the branches start to thin and spread out, sprouting in dense foliage, and form a bowl of sorts. All sorts of gourds, dried plants, skeletons, and other useful herbs can be found here, hanging from or set against the branches of the tree. The branches themselves have been carved and painted, depicting the history of the Great Kings of Pride Rock going back generations, upon generations... till the dawn of time.
Exits:
[West] to the Valley of the Great Kings(#535E)
Present:
[IC] Rafiki(#245PC)
At long last, Zazu has worked up the courage to come. The Tree of Creation is his Elephant's Graveyard--he's been forbidden from its mysteries in the past by a conscientious mother, and unlike the Simba of the future, Zazu is enough of a goody-goody to obey parental directives. He's only today been given permission to go...and visit the wise monkey with the link to the Beyond. And Zazu would be fibbing if he claimed he wasn't rather nervous. Still...here he is.
[OOC] Rafiki says, "Oh hey!"
[OOC] Rafiki says, "You!"
[OOC] You say, "Yes, me!"
[OOC] Rafiki says, "You surprised me!"
[OOC] You say, "BoO0oo!"
[OOC] Rafiki says, "Yay for the nastiness between Rafiki and Zazu to begin! OMGscary. o.o"
[OOC] Zazu grins.
[OOC] Rafiki says, "Time of day?"
[OOC] You say, "Midmorning, I guess!"
Rafiki is sitting in the bowl of the tree, and not a word is coming from it. Not a rustle of the leaves, not a whistle of the wind. Not even the chirp of a bird. All is still. And Rafiki sits, his eyes closed-yet-open. But he does not look as serene as he usually does when he meditates. No, his face is twisted in concern, anger, and frustration. What are you, you dark thing? You angry thing? And what do you want?
"Hello!" The eager avian voice penetrates the mandrill's tranquil state. It's followed by a few self-conscious wingflaps, as Zazu heads for the tree, then decides not to be rude and land on a branch without being invited, and instead descends suddenly to land at the foot of it. He peers upward with large, curious, beady eyes. "Rafiki, I presume? My name is Zazu, and I have been permitted to make your acquaintance!" The excitement verily drips off his swelling wings.
But the young hornbill gets no response. Rafiki's brows knit a bit. He was doing so well, he almost had that.. that thing! Whatever it was. The elusive spirit that haunted the world-between-worlds. Concentrate, Fiki. Ignore the bird. The bird isn't there. FIND it.
Um..."Hello?" The hornbill tries again. He doesn't seem to be getting through. -Knock knock!- he goes with a couple polite beaktaps on the baobab's base. "Anyone home?" The mandrill's in plain sight, of course, but...well, Zazu has a feeling he may be -off- somewhere, somehow. Or possibly even lost in his own meditation and in need of a jolt to get himself back to earth. Zazu is just the fellow to help out, in that case.
Rafiki grumbles. It's no use. It's gone. Not realizing who the intruder is, he grabs a nearby piece of fruit and lobs it out of the tree toward the hornbill.
Zazu opens his beak in an expression of shock, then explodes into a panicked leap that takes him basically nowhere. The fruit bursts open on his upraised wing, leaving him prone on the ground. "AAACK!" He looks out and up again, horrified, and sees that he's angered the denizen of the great tree. "T--t--terribly sorry, sir," he calls. "I was looking for the shaman, Rafiki! Is--i--if you'll just direct me to him, I'll leave you alone!"
What? Rafiki walks over to the edge of the tree on his knuckles, and glowers over the edge at the hornbill below. "Why do you seek me, 'jana?" he booms. Why did you interrupt me on the king's mission?
Zazu tosses off the bits of fruit still lingering on his wing. Gulp! He's got a bit of pulp on his face, but that doesn't matter. "I...I just wanted to introduce myself," he croaks. Could this really be the shaman, himself? But surely...someone with so much responsibility for so many would never hurl fruit at an innocent bird! It doesn't make sense. "You...you are Rafiki? I am Zazu...you know my mother! She told me it was time I came to meet you, too!"
Rafiki blinks, then shakes his head. "If you can fly up 'ere, I will see you." Zuzu should have warned him when the little sprat was coming! He would have prepared. The mandrill walks further into the bowl and sits down, leaning against one of the painted branches.
Zazu hesitates. He doesn't want to go if it's just a trap that'll end up with him splattered by more fruits. But he has little choice--if this is the up and coming Rafiki, he won't be able to avoid him forever. So he gets back on his feet, spreads his wings, and pushes off. Seconds later, he's settling beside Rafiki, and wondering at the atmosphere of the great baobab. "What a place!" he exclaims without thinking.
Rafiki sits with his legs crossed, and his long, knotty hands resting on his knees. He narrows his eyes at the young bird. "No doubt your mo'der 'as told you, jana, dat dis is a sacred place. You will s'ow de proper respects."
Zazu backs off a centimeter or two in response to being looked at that way...and then he nod-nods! "Of course!" Erp, now the uncomfortable Zazu doesn't know what to do with his wings. He folds them like a child would fold a roadmap. "Er, what...what do I do?" he whispers.
"First," Rafiki says with a tug upward of his brows, though his eyes stay narrowed, "You tell me why you 'ave come, and why you 'ave disturbed me w'ile I work on de'King's order?"
"Order? The king gave you an order?" Well, why so surprised, Zazu? He must do that all the time. "Oh! um...well, I've come to make my acquaintance..." He spreads his wings with care and bows deeply, slipping a little but catching his balance. "And as for why I interrupted...well, I didn't know," he finishes rather meekly. He's observing the carvings with awe...what could they all mean?
Rafiki leans his head back against some of those very carvings and paintings, lifting a hand to rub his chin. "Tell me, jana... do you know w'at is 'tis your mo'der does for de'king? W'at you may do someday?" If you don't screw up and drown in fruit pulp first.
Zazu gives a nervous little nod. "She is the steward to King Ahadi," he replies softly. "She surveys the Pridelands and reports on what she sees...and gives the king advice. She is a wise creature and a good mother." He finishes by nodding again, because it seems like the thing to do.
Rafiki laughs, his lips parting. Oh, he and Zuzu get along just fine, but she was far too humble to let anything call her wise. Thoughtful, cautious, and clever maybe. But not wise. "Watch your words, jana," is all the reprimand the shaman gives though before he begins his instruction. "Do not say tings dat are not so. It takes no wisdom to say w'at one 'as seen wit' real eyes."
Zazu finds himself staring at Rafiki, as if trying to perpetrate his earthly form and see into his cosmic guts or somesuch. He gives his head a little shake, confounded in this ambition. "Oh, well..." What can he say? Zazu knows his mother does more than that, but he doesn't know how to say it. "She -is- wise, though. Isn't she?" The juvenile certainly didn't come here to hear his mother insulted. But his reservoir of patience has a distance left to churn.
Rafiki shakes his head slowly from side to side, a small smile playing on a very knowing face. "Jana, she is not wise. Not wise like o'ders. She relies on 'er mind," he taps his head once, "but dere'in dat wisdom does not lie." He frowns, sensing that this may upset the young avian, and potentially get him in trouble. "Zuzu is a kind soul, t'outful and clever in her mind. Dese are good tings too."
Zazu is confused. He hops backwards on the branch, then forwards again. "Then what is wisdom?" he asks impetuously. "Are you wise? Can you show me wisdom?"
Rafiki lifts his brows and leans forward slightly. "It takes much time to aquire wisdom, jana." His lips pull into a toothy grin. "And you 'aven't even told me your name."
Zazu could have sworn he said his name. He squints and bites his tongue. Perhaps he's beginning to understand the nature of 'wisdom'. "I'm Zazu! I know it takes time. I'm not wise yet because I'm young. But I wish to be wise when I am older." Mhm, sounds like he has it all worked out. And now the sights of the tree's inner bowl are making him more curious than ever.
Rafiki has been noticing the young bird's perusal of the carvings, and smiles more, though it becomes tight-lipped. "Dis leads to wisdom for some, confusion for o'ders, jana. Dis is knowledge. De'istory of dese lands and dere kings. I 'ave to look at it know to tell de'King how to chose 'is 'eir."
Now things are getting interesting! "Really? Is he...are you going...you get to tell him how to decide between the two princes?" Hop hop. Zazu's beady eyes peer at the carvings nearest Rafiki's branch from various angles. "What do they mean, Rafiki?"
"Many tings, but not everyting," the mandrill muses. "Dey are simply stories. Stories of all de'kings dat have come before in dese lands. All de'princes, and all de'little birds dat pestered all de'shamans." He grins.
Zazu frowns and looks perplexed. "Like who? Who is this one?" he asks, brushing against a high painted carving with a primal but unmistakable bird shape.
Rafiki looks at the drawing Zazu points to, and laughs brightly. "Dat is your grand-mo'der, jana." He smiles. "Like de'king, de'job your mo'der 'olds is one passed down t'rough generation af'da generation."
Zazu rolls his eyes and stretches his wings. He knows -that-. "Her name was Aishi and she served King Dhahabu," he recites. "What do those green smears mean?" Another place is indicated, not far away.
It's an old drawing. And a sad one. Rafiki is on his feet and moving toward it suprisingly quickly, covering the drawing with his hand. "It is gone, dat is w'at it is." But even as he touches it, he gets a feeling. A pull. Something dark. Something angry.
Zazu gasps and takes wing. He flies backwards to another branch, and in the process bumps a couple of overhanging ones, setting the tree to rustling. "Oh-hhh. But..." But Zazu knows it must be something important that's grabbed Rafiki's attention, and he falls silent.
Rafiki pulls his hand away from the drawing but not the tree, bringing the other up to put the smudges between them. He stares intently at it, then closes his eyes. "Quiet, young Zazu," he commands in a whisper.
Zazu stops being quiet and becomes extra quiet. Of course, after thirty seconds of this, he poinks up his tail and asks, "What are you doing?"
Rafiki turns to look over his shoulder, yellow eyes wide and blazing. "ASKUT!" he commands again, staring at the bird for a moment before turning back to face the drawing, eyes sliding shut again.
Zazu is getting tired of this. Maybe wisdom isn't really worth it, after all. He sulks and starts preening himself, as a broad green leaf drifts by and filters the sun.
Rafiki steadies his breathing and concentrates. Once more, the wind stops in the tree, suspending the living monolith in time. A cloud pulls over the sun to shade it, darkening the branch-made bowl. In the world-between-worlds, Rafiki searches. And calls. /No one else remembers you, but I found you. I'm trying to remember. Who are you?/
Zazu is getting pretty bored over here. When is the monkey going to do something? "Iiiii've gooot a liiittle bunch of coconuts," he sings very quietly to himself. "Theeere they are, staaa..." Oh. Oh great stars. He squats low and raises his wings, not daring to move further.
The presence is there, and he's not alone. He's flying with two others of a similar kith to himself. The ghost senses that he's being observed--he spins in place, and enters the real world in a thin sliver of his whole. The air clouds further, and the greens of the baobab turn a little more gray. And the voice...it plays over the scene in a dampening hush. "I am Talmaleki. I am not remembered. It is not expected for me to be remembered...I do not wish to be remembered. Only I can apply the lessons of today to the lessons of my past."
Rafiki keeps his hands on the tree, and straightens his back before turning his head to the voice then opening his eyes to see the faint apparition. "Talmaleki," Rafiki repeats with a small bow of his head. "You were a king, or would not be in dis'tree in ei'der life or death." His eyes narrow somewhat. "W'at lessons do you take from us?"
Leaves rise and fall, slowly. Like pollen on the wind, or the gowns of dancing belles in a silent ethereal ballroom. "That remains to be seen, gourd-breaker. My education is my own affair. What do #you# want from me?" Still a whisper, so gentle, so encompassing.
Zazu is teh_scared.
"You w'o are in de'world-between-worlds," Rafiki starts to reply, his own voice dropping to a low tone, "you stay silent. You learn, yes you learn. But you do not meddle. Dere is a mischievousness dere now. Trouble in de'earts of de'living. Dis is you? Why is dis?"
The leaves move clockwise in their sway, all around the tree, even though no wind can be felt. "I cause trouble," is the only response.
%%% We sangoma ngi velelwe \ We baba ngivelelwe \ We baba ngivelelwe... %%%
%%% We sangoma ngi velelwe \ We baba ngivelelwe \ We baba ngivelelwe... %%%
(Oh, spiritual healer, I'm troubled \ Oh, my father, I'm in pain \ Oh, my father, I'm in pain)
The mandrill squints, listening closely. This is wisdom, jana. This is wisdom. "Talmaleki, King. Why do you come now? W'at 'as stirred you from your wanderings between to come 'ere before now, w'en I call you?"
"Only time," comes the reply. "Each year brings the float closer to...surface, from the metal, there is only freedom from...have a mission to reach the place beyond the..." The missing words are filled in by rustling. The air feels lush and green. Poor Zazu sits crouching on his branch, sheltering himself with his wings. "...exile a member...you are important to...I do with you, baboon?"
"Wait!" Rafiki calls out in a more urgent voice, pressing his hand tighter up against the tree. "Talmaleki, spirit, do not leave 'ere!" But the mandrill knows his pleadings are in vain. He cannot command the members of the world beyond, only commune with them. Anything else would be arrogance.
Now the leaves shuffle counter-clockwise, more aggressively. The ones in the tree's inner bowl even curl up a trifle, as if afraid. "Who said I am leaving? If you are so eager for me to--" A pause. "Shut up, Mwiba. Yes. If you are eager for me to stay, I shall be glad to place a curse upon your person. Let me see...what has yet to be applied? ...Mwiba, I mean it."
"Dis is your trouble?" Rafiki asks, his hair bristling on the back of his neck and along his arms. Is it the wind? Or is the shaman frightened? "Dis is your mischief? How do you learn from dis?" His last question is asked in anger - a dangerous emotion to show before a spirit, especially one so powerful.
There is no anger in turn, at least not yet. The tree itself is a foil for all this anger--indeed, either it is lashing back at the spirit itself, or it is attempting to protect its occupant from such a source of potential malevolence. But the whisper continues, filling all sound: "I want to know whether there is justice. I want to know..." There is a shuffling of senses. "Match those who are abandoned and those who are beloved. See which is the true way. Have you ever been abandoned, gourd-breaker? Have you ever... ...been beloved?"
Rafiki listens carefully, pressing further against the protective tree. Beloved? He lowers his brow. "It is not the way of de'Ujamaa, spirit. We are beloved of de'land and all w'o walk upon it. Dat is our cause." Abandoned? The mandrill stays silent at this question, having no answer.
Zazu rises and lowers his wings halfway. Is this true? The shaman knows no one's love...and everyone's? Who does he think he is? "I have never been abandoned," he says in a simple voice into the treetops. "Because I know that my family is always there for me, even when I am alone."
A single green leaf falls and lands on Zazu's face. There is a strange buzzing that can be felt, and almost heard, in the bark of the tree. Something is moving...a caterpillar crawls up the tree's surface, toward Rafiki. An aphid drops from a branch above onto his hair.
The small bug is noted, but Rafiki does nothing to it. No, his attentions are focused on the voice, on his tree, and on the faint apparition. "W'at of it, Talmeleki?"
"I can make you love me," says the voice in a boom, even though its whispery timbre is still present. "I can make them all love you." And indeed, the very insects are emerging from the cracks of the tree, crawling toward Rafiki...to profess their unquestioning love. Even Zazu finds himself trembling, and he clings to the leaf, allowing it to cover his face rather than brush it free.
[OOC] You say, "%% Emanating live from the Tree of Creation here in the world-famous Pridelands, it's -All Upendi, All The Time!- Don't touch that dial! %%"
[OOC] Rafiki XDDD
[OOC] Rafiki says, "You're horrible, you know that?"
[OOC] Zazu <3.
Rafiki shivers again, his eyes falling to the creepy-crawlys that are literally coming out of the woodwork toward him. "I do not want dis, Tameleki!" he booms back. His voice is not as powerful as the spirits, but it does not lack authority or weight in this setting. His long hands curl into fists at his sides. "You are in pain," he shouts again, remembering the whispered song. "I can ease dat pain, wit' no need for curses or magic!" Maybe?
Zazu spreads his wings wide and opens his beak, the leaf falling to the ground...but he says nothing.
The creatures pause where they sit, bodies curling and clinging, ready to spring or jump onto Rafiki at an unspoke word. There is a pulse that tastes both of doom and beauty, and it thrums through everything. After a short, tense pause, the voice speaks again, as if distracted by its companions. "What part of 'curse' don't you understand?" it asks. And then--"I have sickened a girl-cub of your pride, that once was mine. Her curiosity was her downfall, and your saving grace. You see, I only need one." The leaves now quiver, just as the insects are doing, and one has to wonder whether they, too, might spring from their branches. "How could you possibly help me now? I am long, long dead."
Rafiki lifts his hand again to press the pad of an index finger to the smeared depiction. "You were marred on dis tree. Rubbed away wit' intent before your fa'der slowly faded away. Do you know de'workings of dis tree, Spirit-King? Everyting starts wit' roots. Tings grow up, and display vibrant color." The mandrill gestures to the brighter paintings, paintings of the current royal family and the generation before them. "But everyting dies. De'memory of some fades slowly, easily away. O'ders are rubbed away with intent, forced out of de'minds of de'many. To fade is to live forever above. To be forced is to wander in de'world-between-worlds." A grin tugs at his lips, and the shaman points his previously gesturing hand to the apparition. "W'ere you are."
Instantly, the green tinge of the midmorning fades to a grim gray over the natural shades. The worms, insects and other creatures fall away from their posts in a soundless mass collapse. Zazu goes faint and falls too, but he barely catches himself and glides down to a lower branch. The voice is the same as before, but it is no long a quiet presence, now a horrified horror. "Let me see them! Where are th--yes." The smeared remains begin to glimmer with a hint of the care that once went into their creation, and their destruction. "There are others--Ezenachi! That one must be you, Mwiba! Hackhaa--yes!" One of the faded drawing begins, slowly, to peel away from the tree, the thin layer of bark pulling free. "No!!" commands the whisper, and the peeling fades. "Did the...was this done by Staarabu? He was the shaman when I lived...he was not of your kind, but he made a home in this very tree...though it was different, too. Did he...seek vengeance?"
"Staarabu's bones have dried and powdered to enrich de'earth," Rafiki replies in a strong voice, though it drops in volume. He senses the peeling through his finger-touch to the tree, but does not move his gaze from the apparition. "I would 'ave to talk to 'im to find 'is reasons for banning you and your...bret'dren from de'skies."
"Then it was him!!" It feels like there ought to be a thunderstorm raging outside, but there's not...even if what little of the outside world shows is dismal, it isn't any different than it was...it just seems different from this perspective. "he trapped me here...he took away my life's ending." The silence is thick and weighty. It lasts for a long time...broken only by Zazu, flying weakly back to his former spot.
Rafiki takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "Dere may be a way for me to remedy dis...indiscretion. But I will need time, and no fur'der meddling in dis world. De tings you did when you walked dese'lands 'ave been sealed - I can not touch dem. But any wrong you 'ave done since you entered de'world-between-worlds will stop you from de'sky. Right dese wrongs," the mandrill instructs firmly, "and I will put you w'ere you deserve to be."
The air grows darker. The leaves uncurl and starts rustling again as normal leaves do in a wind, no longer in unison in one direction or another. "I do not use that kind of justice," says the whisper. "I know another. If you would watch, you are welcome to attend the Valley on the appointed night. But do not think that your powers are what I seek. You are a killer of Kings. Break no gourds on my account."
"Farewell den, King Who Was," The shaman says in dismissal before lowering his hands. The light breeze ripples gracefully through his mane and beard, dancing with it for a moment before it passes.
And then passes the dismal sheen...and the wind without wind. And at last, a few seconds later, everything is back to normal...and it's a nice, balmy morning again.
Zazu o.O
Rafiki lets out a heavy sigh and leans back against a branch, keeping his eyes open. It's a moment or two before he turns to look at the hornbill youth. "I will need to see de'king soon. Can you tell him dat, and only dat?"
Zazu doesn't realize for a moment that he's being spoken to. With a start, he jumps to face Rafiki. "Uh--I..." His eyes are wide, and he blinks a membrane over them and raises it again. "Yes," he says softly. And then, after raising his wings and preparing to jump, he looks back under his shoulder. "I...I don't think I'll be coming here again for a while," he decides.
Rafiki chuckles airily and waves a hand. "Off with you, jana. Send word before you come again." The shaman turns to stare at the smudged drawings, his face drawing blank.
Zazu stares, too. He raises his gaze to the hanging vines, and the painting high above, and the textures down below. He marvels at it all, and his wings vibrate. Then he gives a twitch, faces forward, and leaps from the branch, soon to zip down, away, and out of sight. Crazy scary monkey.