|""LOOK AT ME.""|
The Composer of Thoughts |
The Architect of Dreams and Nightmares
|Date of arrival||The Death of the Spinner|
The Clavier, or the Architect of Dreams, or the Composer of Thought is the twenty-ninth Hour and is written by Edward. A god from Mist, she is one of the Hours that patrons both works of Art and Music, and represents a twisted form of inspiration and artistic control. A false-Hour created from the collective unconscious, she seeks to become real, either in the true sense, or by weaving all things into a fantastical dream of her own creation, where all things are as "real" as she is now.
Following the disappearance of The Spinner of Stars, a great void was felt in the minds of the Histories' craftsmen and artisans. Occultists were distraught by the sudden absence of one of the more benevolent Hours, and many sought in vain to find where it had gone or reestablish contact with it, to no success. Aching for a muse, mankind both consciously and subconsciously prayed for the return of the Spinner, and more specifically a muse that would guide them in the creation of beauty they themselves could not imagine. In the Sea of Mist the subconscious desires intermingled with the prayers to the Spinner, and the Clavier was born. Not-quite the Spinner, not quite benevolent muse, she nonetheless feels the need to create and inspire, guiding people towards ""her"" vision of beauty.
Accounts of the Composer's form are has hazy and tenuous as her place in reality. As the Clavier, she takes the general shape of a human woman, whose body is describes as a mix between a dressing mannequin and an instrument, covered in strings keys constantly in motion, playing a tune that is both catchy and familiar, but can never be clearly recalled. As the Architect, she takes the form of a nondescript woman with unclear features, dressed in a airy dress or robe that shimmered and flowed either like or entirely made of mist, appearing very similar to the Spinner at a glimpse. The Composer, she is a combination of both, rapidly seeming to flicker between both forms, as clear yet unclear as only something in a dream can be.
Principles and Worship
Lantern, for the quest for otherworldly, searing beauty beyond imagining and inspiration. Moth for her intangibility, the fleeting and incorporeal nature of her work, and the degradation she causes in the minds of her followers. Beauty, achievement, and acknowledgement. These are the things the Clavier holds sacred. A craftswoman and composer, she wishes only for her work to be seen and appreciated by all. She was created to both be an independent creator and fulfill the role of the Spinner of Stars, but also to inspire mankind and aid them in the discovery of beauty they themselves could not discover on their own. To this end she offers a sort of "inspiration" to her followers, allowing them to glimpse the wonders she has created. Those touched by her can only envision what she has already created, divine wonders that would put nearly of the masters of the arts to shame.
In doing so, however, she smothers the essence of creation. She kills what ability her favored possessed to one day create something beautiful and original they could not first imagine. Those that are marked by the Clavier can only see what she wishes them to see, and follow in her footsteps, treading ground she has already walked. The Clavier's compositions are unreal and not of this world, and therefore are unnaturally beautiful and not mean for the ears and eyes of man. When her favored wake after seeing them in dreams they cling to the mind like cobwebs, hazy and near intangible but difficult to dispel. To view them in their entirely is to become lost in them, to hear and see nothing else as the Composer asserts her desire to be real through the dominance of the senses.
Created by man to serve as both instrument and goddess, she has grown tired of being played and instead seeks to play mortals in her game to become acknowledged by all, guiding them in pursuit of her own higher vision.
At first, the Clavier's blessing is to "hear" and "see" in the mind glimpses of her work, inspiring great works based upon these half-remembered inklings. Then, it increases to a state not unlike being granted a photographic memory, being able to remember and replicate the Clavier's creations in minute detail through art and music. Finally, however, as the Clavier tries to make herself "real", she begins to weave her chosen into her creation, overtaking their perception of the real world.
The change is recognizable at first, with people and objects manifesting that are only real to the chosen. These objects are at first hazy like something from an old memory, and are slightly soft and moist to the touch like drying pain. These objects become more numerous and more detailed as the dream overtakes the real. Finally, the chosen's mind is totally engulfed in the Architect's fabricated world, unable to distinguish any of it from reality. These souls tend to expire without outside intervention, injuring themselves through walking into walls where they believe doorframes are, starving while trying to live off imaginary feats, and forming and acting out relationships with imagined people.
Additionally, although it is not her primary focus, she is capable of seamlessly weaving and implanting her creations in mortals as they sleep. Dreams so vivid that they are indistinguishable from real memories, and ideas so custom-tailored to the target's own mindset they never guess they aren't their own. As this is both too invasive for most Hours to tolerate as well as too subtle for her motives, she tends to avoid using this ability except in rare circumstances or at the consent of other Hours, usually to maintain the integrity of the world's skin by overwriting memories of encounters with the invisible arts and the machinations of the Hours when they spill over into the lives of oblivious mortals.
The Sea of Mist, within the reflection of the Edifice. She toils endlessly in the dream world, crafting an elaborate, beautiful fantasy land of unparalleled wonder. Descriptions of this place always fall short, either because words fail it or because due to its nature descriptions of it cannot survive in reality.
- The Storm-Tossed:
- The Spirarch:
- The Perennial:
- The Red Lady:
- The Hunter / The Worm’s Foundations]]:
- The Bright Tapestry:
- The Die Cutter:
- The Mother Bear:
- The Maw Consuming:
- The Succulent Glow:
- The Shambling Dawn:
- The Warrior Maid:
- The Ferric Band:
- The Monument:
- The Cub:
- The Seraph:
- The Worm Funktastic:
- The More-Opened:
- The Unending Worm:
I AM REAL. LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT ME. LOOK AT ME.