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''”The Ink, the Scient, the Many-Armed Author is the patron of writers, archivists, and storytellers. With a hundred quills, its passage through the House is marked by tracks of its scrawling, rambling calligraphy. Herein is a practice that may find some truth amongst its manifold fictions...”''
<br>
-''The Pen, Indelible'' by Dubedat Locke
{{InfoboxHour
| title = The Ink
| card =
| quote = "I have that on record. Probably. SomewhereWe call upon The Ink, who does naught but write, who knows only fictions, whose tears are pigment."| origin = Light or Flesh
| titles = The Scient, The Ever Writer, The Many-Armed Author
| names = The Head Secretarian, 'Jos. Cz'The Editorius, Dubedat Locke, Secretarian YossariusDisembodied Voice of Pedantic But Technically True Corrections| aspects = {{Aspect|HeartLantern}} {{Aspect|Moth}} {{Aspect|LanternHeart}}| arrival = The Death By way of a Great Vessel of the PanopticonOrigami
| owners = Leathy Kocktail (Link to your user page here, for example, [[User:Leathy Kocktail|Leathy Kocktail]])
}}
==Description==
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===Principles===
In order of importance, The Ink is bright and knows much from his duties, and shines that knowledge upon his writing with {{Aspect|Lantern}}. But he is capricious with his writing, Full of fiction and fabulism, and never satisfied with one story, he will drop unfinished drafts and shed his darlings as would a {{Aspect|Moth}}. But if it is one thing that is true for Ink, he will not
<br>will not
<br>will not stop writing. {{Aspect|Heart}}
==History==
===Before He Knewthe Hour===Excerpt from ''The Tragicall Hiftorie of One Scholar & One Soldier''"It is said , Act II, Scene 5. Author Unknown.<br>''SCHOLAR: Is it the Scient was one change of many who tended a great librarythe tides or the age? This is not my study, I know not why. I know you leave this post too soon. ''<br>''SOLDIER: You may leave ‘long side me. You would be cared for. In his history, it didn't burn, but simply fell '<br>''SCHOLAR: But I’ve a post of mine own to tend to ruin and neglect. He stayed in ''<br>''SOLDIER: So too long will our parting be! How can I slay the rubbleclouds a world away from you?''<br>''SCHOLAR: You tempt me to desertion, writing until his dreams led him to become Long in the service of an Hour of Knowledgebut Know not that my punishment would be as Severe."''
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One day, it was said, a scholar decided to put pigment to parchment. Even as their dreams grew strange with his fervor, and a light started to shine from a fiercer place, that scholar did not stop writing. Everything they saw, everything they thought, all streamed into one furious line of ink, charcoal, chalk, and even blood if it was required. He wrote his way into becoming Long with Even as a humble mortal, a fledgling Know, the young scholar teetered upon the fervor precipice of immortality quickly. Caught between a finite Ever After and rising to a higher place, he could not decide upon which ending he wanted, so an ending was chosen on his writingsbehalf.<br><br>But this is only hearsay, fabulism, and rumor.<br> ===NameLong-domHood===<br>There was a Long that, to the frustration of his peers, was rather difficult to qualify, at least in term of the nature of his immortality. He was mute as the Winter, yet constantly followed by the sound of his never ending, fervent writing as endemic of the Heart (And yet, a truly lamentable dancer, according to some accounts). He was flighty and his interest was naturally of the Moth, yet his writing could at times cut with a merciless unkindness, and his publications were in a constant state of ever-changing limbo as he chased his insatiable desire. Some doubt even that publications under his many pseudonyms were even the same author, contemporary Know of the Co-writer's Covenant arguing constantly over most infinitesimal similarities and differences in the the styling, cadence, language.<br><br>The one thing that cannot be denied is the author's longevity and proliferance of their writing. Between the many texts, letters, novels, essays, (and any other written form under the sun), It is easy to say this particular long has easily lived for around two thousand years. <br>It is said as well that the Long could not decide what he wanted, how he wanted to spend his immortality. <br>But<br>The world has a tendency to force decision, in time. ===AscentionAscension===FNORD
==Worship==
<br>
-''What to Do With Paper'' by Jos. Cz
===Cult===
The Co-Writer's Covenant dedicate themselves to documenting everything that is happening everywhere fervent writer's salons and the hoarding of all the timetexts, and interpreting the nonsense that comes of itboth pursuits. Wherever stories are told, text is collected, and books are hoarded, you may find a Covenant.
===Servants===
*'''The Secretarians'''
''"With his many Arms, the Author lifted up the Beasts of the Wood to stand, to speak, and read as Humanity does. In gratitude, they are his editors, his assistants, his secretaries. They always bear the faces of the furred beasts: the rodent, the canine, the feline, the animals found in the countryside. I have found they appreciate pats considerably less then their counterparts outside of the House."
<br> -''The Pen, Indelible'', Dubedat Locke
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-''What to Do with Paper'', Jos. Cz
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====Names====
* '''The Head Secretarian''' - {{Aspect|Lantern}} {{Aspect|Secret Histories}} - A Jackal-Headed scholar who leads the effort to curate the work in the Scriptorium. He has read more of the Ink's work than anything living, or dead. He is a very busy Dog-Person, but may spare so if you seek to enter the Ink's service, you some must be worthy of his time if treated with respect. The Head Secretarian is not known for his humility.<br>* '''"Jos. Cz"The Editorius''' - {{Aspect|HeartMoth}} {{Aspect|GrailEdge}} - Somewhere in Upon wings of parchment, the Editorius rises with the thinest of blades to cut down the darlings of the marked halls writer. They are viscious. They are unforgiving. They are one of the Scriptorium is a woman judges that which all those who built and destroyed lives with her correspondenceswish to enter the Ink's service must appease before they are graced. Her poetry <br>* '''Disembodied Voice of Pedantic But Technically True Corrections''' - {{Aspect|Winter}} {{Aspect|Heart}} What? How did this get here? Why won't they shut up? Why won't they '''leave me alone!''' ====Long==== * '''Dubedat Locke''' - {{Aspect|Secret Histories}} {{Aspect|Knock}} - Once a distractable and prose wets the appetites eccentric playwright of ambition, his writings tell of even the strongest mortalsfar off places and fantastical journeys, horrid beasts and many are lost a terrifying Wood. Be careful about his publications, lest you fall in her eternal letters of longing. If you catch her attention correctly Newly Long, she may send you such a letterhe is eager to speak of his many imagined paths with anyone who would listen.
==Locations==
===The Mansus===
====The Scriptorium====
The Scriptorium’s spires are only of the finest, diamond hard paper mache. They rise from the Edifice, just below the reach of the Arbory, covered in the scaffolding of the lesser Know. They seek to learn of the Ink’s secrets. The Many Armed Author leaves the door open to all when he passes. As many as could safely be allowed streamed into the paper lined walls, the infinite halls of bookshelves and reference guide. The Last Library was open, much to the Secretarians’ chagrin. In the tower's cavernous chambers and winding staircases, all can hear the quiet whispers of writing implements scratching upon every conceivable surface and material. Cutting the ambient skittering of quill across parchment is the fervent discussions of the all of the Scriptorium is 's inhabitants. Secretarians heckled the Long for their drafts, Know followed single run-on sentences that stretched from outside the gates to into deep within its non-euclidean structures. It always smells of freshly printed paper, the acrid waft of ink, and the iron of blood and sweat shed through impossibly hard work and impassioned projects. Within one of the larger departments of the cathedral like tower, a place in space filled with shelves and desks from every era of literacy, works the Mansus or somethingtower's Master.
===Books===
* '''The Zeroth Indictment (Indictments correspond to hour number. Everyone gets one but you can have more books than just that)Pen, Indelible'''** Description: ItLocke's an old book, okay? A dusty old tome? Made out surprisingly brazen account of the history ofhis chosen Hour barely escaped censorship by claiming it is completely fantastical...flesh? What Those in theKnow know better.** Start Text: This is He speaks of a king who folded a grand structure of paper, the tale bipedal pets he kept to maintain it, and how to glean truths from a trove of the skeleton warriorsfictions.** End Text: ''"The skeleton warriors theme song refuses Author's servants know the Pen's mind. It is said you need a bright a big enough disarray and a big enough opening to leave your mindtempt them out of their homes."''** Gives: Stuff goes here. Usually lore. Sometimes languages. Sometimes things get really weird. Feel free The Rite of the Secretarian's Sorting, {{Aspect|Lantern}} '''Lore 6'''<br>*''' What to get creative.Do with Paper '''** Description: FNORD** Start Text: FNORD** End Text: FNORD** Gives: FNORD<br>*'''The Tragicall Hiftorie of One Scholar & One Soldier'''** Description: FNORD** Start Text: FNORD** End Text: FNORD** Gives: FNORD
===Rites===
* Making The Rite of the Hours=Secretarian's Sorting** Description: Ancient ritual conceived by the spooky boys of Uh-Shekel.** Requires: Rites are the more unique bits of Cultist Simulator. They may require tools, objects, lores, living beings, and so on. Some of the items used for the rite may be destroyed, and proper aspects are needed. Do specify all the details!** Gives: Glorious boons. From summoning to spawning items to other beneficial effects.FNORD
==Relationships==
==Secrets==
* In a History where life was Fleeting but Intense, a soldier named Λυσανδρος visited a scholar at a Library often. The Template is actually only times the second coming of Big Clive and your life is a liescholar left the Library was to walk along the harbor with the soldier.* It also never liked cookiesA scholar once had a little tabby cat he cared for.* And their name was λίγος. The scholar tried to name them אבי, but it writes steamy fanficsdidn't stick.[https://www* No one knows why the Secretarian's are all so fiercely loyal to their Master.youtubeExcept for the Head Secretarian.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ * True Form][[Category:Hours (Vol. IIIII)]]