I have discovered another person who categorizes people. This should have delighted me without complication. It did delight me. It also complicated me.
The person was Jingo, a Lord of Chaos, who sat in the Tavern and held court long into the night. Adventurers gathered around him in shifting clusters, listening, asking questions, making faces of concern, and occasionally trying to determine whether a sentence had been a joke, a warning, a threat, a contract, or all four.
Jingo introduced himself as, “Jingo, kind of like BINGO, because JACKPOT!” This is a very efficient introduction. It tells you his name, gives you a memory device, and immediately suggests that the conversation has already become more dangerous than expected. He also told us he is “two thousand years old or so,” which I recorded carefully because “or so” is doing a large amount of work in that sentence.
I asked Jingo my Top Questions, because of course I did. His favorite colors are purple and octarine. His favorite snack is a gem called the Eye of the Prophet. His favorite weapon is “Don’t Like Them,” which is not a weapon in the traditional sense, but I have decided not to argue weapon categories with a Lord of Chaos in the Tavern.
Then Jingo began talking. Or rather, Jingo continued talking, but the talking became a river. He told us that people do not like to do what he recommends because then they owe him, whether they realize it or not. I wrote this in large letters because accidental owing seems like one of the worst kinds of owing. If I owe someone a button, that is one thing. If I owe a Lord of Chaos something unspecified because I followed useful advice without noticing a hook attached, that is another thing entirely.
Important note: do not accidentally owe Jingo. Possibly also: do not intentionally owe Jingo unless every term has been defined, numbered, witnessed, and placed in a very secure appendix.
From there, Jingo shared an astonishing number of stories, warnings, names, mazes, courts, bargains, missing people, hidden meanings, and facts that looked unrelated but may someday prove to be the hinge upon which some terrible door swings open. I wrote as much as I could. I also began to suspect that Jingo does not provide information in a line. He provides it in a net.
Some facts are not ready to be explained. They are only ready to be carried.
Then Jingo said he likes to put people in boxes.
I became very still inside my own head.
You see, I also put people in places. I put them in the Ledger. I ask their names, favorite colors, favorite snacks, favorite weapons, superpowers, and what else they wish to have recorded. I do this so that people may be remembered properly and understood more carefully.
Jingo puts people in boxes.
These are not the same process.
Possibly.
I am still studying the distinction. I asked for clarification about the preferred size of the boxes. Jingo did not clarify. This was not helpful. It was, however, informative.
Jingo told us he is brutally honest but has no honor. He said he will not lie, but he will mislead. This is another sentence that should come with handles. If someone lies, the false thing is the danger. If someone misleads without lying, then the true things themselves may have been arranged into a trap. This is much harder to file.
He also said he may be little, but he is always the bigger man. Naturally, I made a label. Some statements should not be allowed to evaporate into ordinary air. I wrote the label and Jingo tied it to the strings on his clothing. This was deeply satisfying. Documentation is good. Portable documentation is better. Documentation attached directly to the relevant person is best.
Jingo told us that the Fae courts claim they are the ultimate arbiters of Fae deals, but he disagrees. According to Jingo, if two people have a deal, then it is between those two people and him, and the courts do not get an opinion. I wrote this down carefully and then looked at it with suspicion. Any sentence about deals that includes “and him” requires caution.
He said Fae can lie but tell you they cannot. He said “knowingly” is a key word. At this point, my notes began to look less like notes and more like a defensive structure.
Then I met Lapis properly. Lapis is Jingo’s assistant, a blue-faced Kobold with bright enthusiasm and excellent social momentum. She moved through the Tavern doing tasks Jingo gave her, retrieving things, negotiating trades, and generally behaving like an entire errand system given legs and a cheerful face.
I introduced myself with proper enthusiasm. She shook my hand with equal enthusiasm.
Equal!
Please understand the rarity of this event. I have been told that I shake hands with more energy than some people expect. Lapis matched it immediately. A proper handshake is not merely hands meeting. It is a bridge declaring itself open for traffic. Lapis built the whole bridge at once.
I asked Lapis my Top Questions. Her favorite color is orange. She likes shiny things. Her best friend is Panlan. This last fact is very important because favorite colors and snacks tell you something, but best friends tell you where a person’s heart has chosen to keep a chair.
Lapis also told me about the brooms. I am very confused about the brooms. Apparently Victor supplies them. Apparently they are new. Apparently Lapis lost her horns in a fight with the new brooms, but the horns will grow back. I wrote this down. Then I stared at it. Then I wrote: BROOMS????
I do not yet know whether the brooms are tools, enemies, soldiers, cursed cleaning implements, misunderstood furniture, or an entire political faction with handles. I only know that they have caused horn loss, and therefore require investigation.
I also learned that Lapis helps GaK when the new magic he is learning goes wrong and he explodes. Specifically, she helps scoop him back off the walls. I have not yet created a standard form for “person temporarily distributed across architecture,” but clearly one is needed.
Jingo continued stocking the evening with alarming jars of information. There were facts about Arcadia, The Children, remnants not in mazes, Asmar, a false hydra, and psychic tendrils. I recorded what I could with great care and an increasing sense that some knowledge should be carried in sealed containers until I understand the labels.
Lapis, meanwhile, added details about a color-blind Kobold and the Kobold Olympic Games. I am extremely interested in these games. I do not yet know the full list of events, but based on what I have learned so far, I suspect they may include friendship, surviving brooms, shiny-object appreciation, and possibly being launched somewhere unexpected.
By the end of the sitting, I understood that Jingo and Lapis are both very informative, but not in the same way. Jingo is informative like a locked chest that opens itself, laughs, gives you three jewels and one snake, then asks whether you noticed which one was the lesson. Lapis is informative like a bright lantern running down a hallway, waving enthusiastically and calling back, “Come see this!” while possibly carrying something shiny, dangerous, or both.
I like them both very much. I am also going to need a separate section for boxes.
Important conclusions from this Tavern sitting:
- Jingo is kind of like BINGO because JACKPOT.
- “Two thousand years old or so” is not a precise age, but it is a useful warning.
- Accidental owing should be avoided.
- Some people provide information in nets instead of lines.
- Putting people in the Ledger and putting people in boxes require further comparison.
- Jingo will not lie, but he will mislead, which may be more complicated.
- “Knowingly” is a key word.
- Lapis has excellent handshake energy.
- Brooms can apparently cause horn loss.
- GaK may require a “distributed across architecture” incident form.
- Some facts are not ready to be explained. They are only ready to be carried.
I left the Tavern with more notes, more questions, and a new concern that some boxes may not be metaphorical.
With categorized caution and excellent handshake appreciation,
Ledger
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