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The Church of the Simulacrum

Posted: 8th January 2009 17:36

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Holy Swordsman
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My marked return to the land of fan fiction-

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Gaia: A History
Volume XIV: The Church of the Simulacrum
WSM* Year 1
3.
*(world sans magic)

The art of Mimicry is lost, in this day and age.
Were any of the great masters left alive, they would lament of this- alas they have all died- or as they used to joke- "the last thing we shall all mimic is a dog who plays dead."

Many immeasurable years have past since the sacred monastery of the Priests of the Simulacrum fell to the ground- even before the War of the Magi. It was said, at one point, hundreds of novices and masters had practiced their art in secret here. Now, on this island at the edge of the planet, far outside the shipping routes, there is nothing left of the ruins. No marker. No sacred statues. The only thing is a shack- perfectly symmetrical in all respects- that cuts right across the international date line, where, at all times, yesterday imitates today. Here lives the only survivor of this ancient sect- the last of the line.

The Monastery had been a place of beauty- and also perfect symmetry. Once upon a time, there were many stone columns here that ran along the path towards the heavy wooden doors. The whole building had been made by two different teams- one of hired carpenters, the other by the priests of the temple who followed their work perfectly- side by side. On the day, when it had been finished, the master craftsman was said to have grown jealous and challenged the high priest to a carving contest. The high priest had laughed at this and replied- "Why? It's not as though I could do that without first observing you!"


The Church of the Simulacrum had been started in time immemorial by a man, who although we do not know his real name, took up the mantra of- "Yoyo." starting a long tradition of repetitive or palindromic names in the community. From what few texts remain, (and with the long decline of the sect and the various worldwide cataclysms, we should be thankful for what we have,) as well as the oral report of the last remaining member, (who this humble historian made painstaking efforts to track down,) we can say here, perhaps, a few things about his life- jaded in antiquity and legend though they are.

"Yoyo," was born to parents of no consequential station somewhere around where the Veldt used to be back in those days. He grew up next to a good deal of wildlife, and did exceptionally well in his studies. His parents knew he would no doubt surpass them, (as peasants, it's doubtful they could even read,) and with their meagre savings had sent him off to some distant University.

We're led to believe this was a cold place from some of Yoyo's later teachings where he sings praises of the sun, and mentions how in his adolescence, he had observed the snow reflecting it's light- one of the many allusions he would make about the mimickry of all by everything. Given the relatively small number of learning institutions of the day, we can assume it must have been the ancient and venerable University of Narshe, which still stands to this day.

It was during this time that he was exposed to more refined ideas and books, which he would later use in the development of his own philosophy. It is probable that he became very involved with the dated naturalist philosophies of the time, (such as David Lima, the ancient Jidoorian, Talon, and Palazzo the Younger,) which were fast becoming overshadowed by the growing interest in magic, and would eventually lead to the War of the Magi.

Yoyo would not finish university. For unknown reasons he left at this time to wander the earth- literally carrying the cliche bindle on a stick with all his belongings in it. We can speculate that perhaps he grew tired of the pragmatic dogmatism of the institution, and fled back to the wild from whence he came. In a sense, he was going home.

For a number of years, he wandered from town to town until one day he chanced upon an acting troupe in the park doing an old production of "Draco, hero of the West," and was enthralled- he had never seen a play before.

This marked a new chapter in his life, and Yoyo immediately begged to be taken on- first as a stage hand, then as an actor after he had become learned. And learn he did. In a matter of a year, he was headlining the plays for the troupe under the alias- Yoachim the Handsome.
We know this from records of the first play at the Jidoorian opera house, which he played in at the time. The impresario's diary from the time documents the performance-

"...Yoachim was absolutely wonderful, of course. His reputation far perceeded him, and was not undeserved- if anything it was not flattering enough. The man could play the gods themselves without us ever believing he had not the power to turn night to day... exceptionally wonderful in his portrayal of the greedy banker [from Wagnofs: Heart of Gold]... when at the end, he recanted of his miserly ways, I believed I was standing there on the street watching him give away all his earthly wealth to the beggers- I nearly reached out a hand myself." ~The Diary of Impresario Tybalt (Original Copy on File at the Jidoorian Museum of History)

Yoyo's fame would go to his head, and slowly, he slipped in the decadence of the Jidoorian nightlife- famed then as it is now for it's rapacious nature. He would eventually be sent to prison for a large sum lost gambling that he was unable to pay. It was while in prison that he again began to take notice of the natural world, and would begin to apply his acting skills to the imitation of the animals. Often times, he could be seen around the fence, hopping alongside a rabbit, or trying to sing countermelody to a bird in the trees.

Following his release, he again turned to wandering. This time around, he made his money doing odd jobs, and in his spare time watching the people- noting their habits and little mannerisms. These would all later go in to his art. At this point, it is believed he was around thirty, he ran across a mage in a tavern one evening who's acquaintance he would make by asking for employment. The mage, in need of an assistant, would hire him to do clean up around his tower and other such grunt work. Yoyo, for his part, watched the Mage, like everyone else. One evening, while watching his employer summon a fire, Yoyo himself, paying close attention to the words used, the position of the man's arms, and the smallest contractions of his muscles, would imitate him, and unexpectedly call forth his own flame- such was his ability, that he could, if only immediately after seeing it, replicate the act of wizardry, which is typically unique in the style of each of it's casters. The Mage, disconcerted that his style had been copied, turned out Yoyo who took to the streets again.

Around this time, he finished his philosophy and began to preach in the big cities, gaining a small pocket of followers who believed in his message of imitation as the highest form of flattery, and thus the best method of worship to honor the earth and all it's denizens. They sought to create nothing of their own, but to copy the workings of the rest of the world- becoming mirror beings without personality of their own.

Eventually, they would set out on the trek to found a place of their own. Yoyo chose, as mentioned, the only piece of land through which runs the international date line. Here he would start his commune- first small, then growing- where people from all over the world would go to shed their identities and become "Mirrors of the Eternal."

The Abbey of Simulacrum would be built about two generations after his death, with a large statue of him adorning the fountain in the main court yard with his motto underneath-
"Do not seek to create- perfection is already ours to imitate."

Following this was a period of well being, with members of the sect present at all the major courts of the world- offering their balanced advice, and amusing high-ranking officials both.

The sect would, ironically, encourage the act of creation as it pertains to breeding, citing it as something that could be both new, and perfect every time.

With the new Monastery built, the sect would thrive for several hundred years, until about a century before the War of the Magi. It was during this time that OppO the Thrice Cursed came to the church.

Records of OppO were largely destroyed by the later survivors of the rift, but from what we can gather, he was just a regular novice who came to the church through years of wandering the southern continent, where he met up with a band of priests doing simple tricks for alms, and came with them back to the monastery.

OppO was dissident from the getgo- while extremely talented in the art, he was restless- he sought to create: something the sect was dogmatically against. Knowing what he did of imitation, he left the monastery just before being fully inducted in to the order, to go out in to the world.

There, it is said, he mingled with all sorts of nefarious characters, and learned much.
OppO would later return to the church, repentant of his leaving, and settle down for a number of years. In secret though, he practiced creation- of paintings, poetry, and of weapon smithing. None of his paintings would last, but a few of his poems were saved by an anonymous sympathizer afterwards.

"The world in all it's natural sheen
Cannot stand to sheathe the gleam
of soul, most great, and mind, most high,
To imitate- we should rather die."
~OppO (From- Collected Works of the Past. Jidoor library)

One day, during his weapon smithing, OppO would try to improve upon a design he had seen for a sword that was vested in pure spiritual strength. The result of this was the creation of the Second Atma Weapon- the Atma Monster. His calculations had been wrong- there was no way to improve upon the design of the first blade. His mistake in trying to make it a weapon that would be as powerful for the weak as for the strong lead to the overflowing of energy from the steel that resulted in the birth of the monster- in other words, the sword was ALWAYS at full power, and could only be maintained through a beast of equal power- whereas the first sword's power lay in it's potentiality to perfectly counterbalance it's wielders life force, and as such, it's enchantment was made to seal it's full strength in the hands of one less worthy. (Amusingly, one might say, it "mirrored" the users power.)

The Atma Monster quickly turned upon it's creator and devoured him whole before burning the monastery to the ground and flying off over the ocean to hide until the War of the Magi where it would revive to aid The Espers- other beings of spiritual energy.

OppO and all of his line would become cursed- Once for breaking the oath, twice for doing so for the creation of a tool of violence of all things, and a third time for the destruction of the church. In a twist of fate, the line of OppO would remain for centuries, and eventually would beget Gogo the Champion.

The sect was in shambles, and the few survivors of it would fade in to memory of the world as time went by, flitting away their lives where their temple used to be, and passing along their art from generation to waning generation in secret.

During the war of the Magi, many of the remaining members would grow antsy, only to go lend their services to one side or another where they were well praised for their battle prowes, such as Bobo the Megaflare, (named such for his imitation of Bahamut during a crucial battle,) UggU the Fierce (who fought Odin to a standstill, thus allowing a platoon of troops to escape,) and Mumu the Healer, who doubled the effectiveness of the greatest white mages she went alongside. These and many others would win renown in the greatest circles and earn themselves places in the dusty nooks of history.

By the end of the World, there was but one member left. Gogo the Champion, of the house of OppO- who shrouded him/herself in such a way as to hide it's gender- symbolizing it's status as the last of the mimics, and shame at being of the house of OppO; a solitary mirror, reflecting the world dying it's ambiguous death. When the cosmic forces released the Zone Eaters to this plane and ate Gogo, the master was nonplussed. He/she was very happy to fade away just as easily in the belly of a monster as a shack.

Of Gogo's life before this, little is known, and he/she isn't talking. We assume it learned to imitate men and women's voices from listening it's parents- which it does simultaneously when speaking, curiously enough- and likewise, learned the ancient art from them. Other than that, we can speculate nothing more.

When the Light Warriors were exploring the ruinous plane and themselves were swallowed, they found Gogo, whiling it's time away imitating the various creatures in the monsters belly. Being bored, open to suggestion, and eager to test it's power, Gogo would follow the Light Warriors out to help save the world.

Afterwards, when asked how he felt about having saved the planet, Gogo would reply- "Saved? I did no such thing- I just mimicked the people in front of me at the time." (Narshe Tribune: The Light Warriors)

Following the peace of the planet, Gogo would return to his shack, evidently content to let his sect die, saying- "The Mimics were of the old world of magic- in this new world of science, we have no place." (South Figaro Gazette: Where are they now? A retrospective five years after the fall of Kefka.)

We may perhaps speculate that as a member of the house of OppO, Gogo felt the entropic streak of his predecessor running in it's blood, or else was too devout, and could not conceive of the sect being rebuilt on the pillars of a house of ill-repute.

It is with regret, that we must here end the chapter of history in which the Mimics played there part.


This post has been edited by MogMaster on 8th January 2009 17:46

--------------------
If you've been mod-o-fied,
It's an illusion, and you're in-between.
Don't you be tarot-fied,
It's just alot of nothing, so what can it mean?
~Frank Zappa

Sins exist only for people who are on the Way or approaching the Way
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