After being exposed to several differing versions of the “True History of the Cosmos”, exalted PC’s of almost every kind, some chaos in Yu-Shan involving incompetent and corrupt gods, and quite a few blatantly idiotic moves from the various factions, Charles Dexter Ward – an Eclipse Caste Solar Exalted from the Exalted Modern campaign – developed a rather jaundiced view of the history of the Exalted universe. Just for whimsy, here it is:
It’s, like, a BAD TRIP Dude:
In the beginning, there was the Wyld. Seething chaos which flung up all sorts of things and dissolved most of them again whether they liked it or not. A few could resist. A very few, with constant effort, could stabilize more than themselves. One – Autochthon – could create areas which could sustain themselves for awhile.
And a bunch of the middling-powerful ones got irritated with chaos and wanted a quiet place to hang out. So big brother built them a clubhouse, and they made some kids to staff the place.
But it got boring without chaos after a bit. So they made some super-crack and got throughly addicted to it. Big Brother left in disgust, and made his own place to hang out in and had some kids of his own, whom he kept off drugs.
The kids here sometimes got a taste of the crack, and wanted to grab it for themselves. So they had some more kids – us – and sent them to drive away or kill their parents so they could have all the crack. Just to make sure there wouldn’t be any grandchildren to repeat this cycle, they had us neutered. The little gods – who were a bit closer to being people – didn’t do it to their kids, but they didn’t have much real power.
So we chased off our Grandparents, who cursed hell out of us and burned down most of the clubhouse on the way out – but they were so strung out that they never even thought about building another clubhouse or making more crack if they just had to have it. So they hang around trying to kick holes in the walls and sneak back in for more crack.
Now that they had the crack, our parents wasted no time getting throughly addicted to it too, and left running what was left of the universe to us. Oh Goody.
We, of course, acted like spoiled murderous brats – just as we were created to be. Our seers foresaw that if they didn’t do anything things would get worse. If they tried to fix things, it might or might not work (just like anything else). If they started a huge destructive war then there would be huge destruction. So they picked the sure thing, we had the war, and most of us haven’t spoken to each other since.
Meanwhile, all the little guys outside the clubhouse were pissed; our parents wouldn’t let them play in the clubhouse unless they obeyed all the rules, including the stupid ones that our parents never bothered to obey themselves. So they kicked in the doors, wrecked half the house, and trashed the place. Like any other bunch of unwelcome relatives, half of them STILL haven’t left – and our parents are so addicted that they don’t give a damn that the place is crumbling around their ears.
Now Great-Uncle Autochthon had gotten pretty sick. A bunch of his grandkids dropped by to ask for medicine. But our parents and grandparents were so addicted, and so busy fighting over the crack, that they paid no attention. So Autochthon’s grandkids got disgusted, broke in, and swiped the pills they needed out of the cabinet before going home.
Which pretty much brings us to the present day.
Don’t you feel inspired?
Or would you rather head out into chaos and see if it’s tossed up some better universes to move in to?