The Mystic Mountain was home to a strange paradox. Every single one of the immense realm’s inhabitants was unique, each one of them singular and individual. Oh, there were a few who were twins or odd little pack-groups, but they were unlike anything else in the urverse.

Kotaluus Pardok, then, was the only truly extraordinary being in the Mountain.

Kotaluus was a Molran. A plain, ordinary Molran, one of trillions upon trillions spread across the Corporation and near-charted regions Beyond the Walls. There was nothing remotely interesting about him, unless you counted his decision to go and live in the Mystic Mountain. And the mysterious authorities of the Mountain deciding to let him.

It’s possible that the authorities had a sense of humour. Because in allowing a representative of the most common Corporate species to come and live among them, they made him into the most unique Mountaineer of all. The only completely unremarkable one among the multitudes to exist in a realm full of singular entities.

Kotaluus collected currency markers and obsolete trade tokens from different places. It was obsessive and engrossing work, done mostly from a relay-comms station in his modest Mountain accommodations. He would send a message to a bank or trading establishment off-world and introduce himself, explain briefly that he was a collector, and conduct a simple trade for the currency markers he was interested in. They would send them with the next materials shipment. It wasn’t exactly “Mystic Mountainy”, but it was what he loved.

The rest of the Mountaineers thought he was just the most baffling and enigmatic being to walk their dusty halls. He never once lapsed into strange trances, gave voice to mysterious prophecies or worked secretively on great projects of urverse-shaking significance. His collection wasn’t very secret at all. In fact, if you let him corner you in a passageway, he could hold you up for some considerable time telling you all about it.

The other denizens tended to avoid him whenever possible. And that was just fine with Kotaluus.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy. https://hatboy.blog/2013/12/17/metalude-who-are-creepy-and-hatboy/
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1 Response to Kotaluus

  1. stchucky says:

    Today’s blog post was brought to you by me just sitting and randomly babbling meaningless crap while trying to cat-herd three kids who are draining my will to live.

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