Hoid’s Worldsinger Symposium
Welcome, esteemed Worldsingers, to Hoid’s Worldsinger Symposium!
Welcome to Day 1 of this collaborative experience! Show off your storytelling skills by submitting a paragraph to this non-canonical Hoidan tale. The submission with the most votes each day will be written in metal (saved as the next paragraph of the story).
Make sure to come back each day of the campaign to vote on which subsequent paragraph will be added to the story, and to add additional submissions yourself. You can add one submission per day to be considered to continue this community tale. The first prompt, written by Brandon, is listed below:
Prompt
“Hi everyone! Let’s write a Hoid story. I love to put him into terrible and embarrassing situations, so that's what we’re going to do now. Let your imagination go crazy! Write the first paragraph of a story describing some new pickle Hoid has gotten himself into.” —Brandon
The thing they never tell you about having your consciousness split in two is that it's very difficult to discern if the thought you're currently thinking is one you've already thought of, or simply a memory of a thought that you were about to think. If that sounds pedantic to you, that's probably because you only have one mind with which to judge it so. When you begin referring to yourself in first, second, and third-person at the same time, then perhaps I'll consider your opinion on the same level as our own.
Having two minds, we have discovered, does not make us twice as clever. It merely ensures that when something goes terribly wrong, we have someone nearby to argue with about whose fault it is. In this case, the debate was complicated by the fact that we were dangling upside down from a rope in a courtyard that had been, until moments before, enjoying a perfectly respectable level of order. Several uniformed individuals had gathered beneath us and were gesturing in that particular way people do when confronted with something they strongly suspect is both illegal and deeply idiotic. We attempted to explain that the current arrangement was temporary, theoretical, and possibly even educational, though the blood rushing to our head made the lecture less persuasive than we would have liked. We would like to clarify that the rope situation was not our fault. Well, not entirely our fault. In our defense, the sign had said “Do Not Touch the Cognitive Anchor,” which any reasonable person would interpret as a challenge.