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While sitting in my chamber, reading the one volume edition of 'The Lord of the Rings' I was
awaiting a certain individual to have an informal conversation with. It was involving the series
of RP logs titled 'Muted Identity'. Not only was this my first tp (tiny plot), this was among my
first adventures in Role Playing. When I joined the muck I was planning on being told what the
scene was, the situation my character would be involved in, and go along with that. It was much
to my surprise to become a co-producer for this series from the beginning of the TP. Starting
with my second rp log ever.
My associate, Willow Northtunnels and I have spent many weeks on the planning and creation of
this plot, and despite her IC step brother's incessant complaining about the difficulties we were
creating, not to mention some unforseen events with an antlion, we'd decided we needed to
enlighten the mood a bit.
Thanks to the muck's ad agency, I was able to solicit the assistance in finding an individual to
employ in aiding us in our current situation. The note, sitting on the coffee table of my living
quarters mentioned very little about the one making the inquiry. There was no name listed, but I
was insured that this was a legitimate scheduled meeting. Set for 11:00 A.M.
It was well after that time and suspecting that the individual had cold feet, or some other
situation, I decided to give he or she a few more minutes. I went back to my book.
'O Wise people!' interrupted Pippin eagerly. "Tell us about the Black Riders!
'Black Riders?' they said in low voices. 'Why do you ask about Black Riders?
'Because two Black Riders have overtaken us today, or one has done so twice.,' said
Pippin; 'only a little while ago he slipped away as you drew near.'
The Elves didn't answer at once, but spoke together softly in their own tongue. At length
Gildor turned to the hobbits. 'We will not speak of this here,' he said. 'We think you had
best come now with us. It is not our custom, but for this time we will take you on our
road, and you shall lodge with us tonight, if you will.
'O Fair Folk! This is good fortune beyond my hope...
Suddenly my attention was brought away from the tome in my hands as I heard a knock at the
door. I arose from my chair when suddenly the door was moved aside and quickly stepped into
my chamber was an individual enshrouded in a almost midnight blue colored cloak! O.o
I looked down at the book, and shook my head. 'I'm must not be getting enough sleep' I
muttered as I looked back, half expecting the room to be empty. It wasn't. The cloaked
individual stood there, with arms to the side, and the hood of his shroud covering his face. He did
not move. I stood there motionless for several seconds.
"Uh, can I help you?" I spoke in a slightly anxious voice.
The mysterious figure stood there, again for several seconds. Then the right arm lifted and pointed
directly at me. "Are you Basil?" Was inquired in a monotone voice.
I wasn't entirely sure how to answer that.
"Are you Basil?" he asked again, voice escalating in pitch and irritation.
"Is, um, is there something I can do for you?" My voice trembled a little.
"If you are Basil,' He then walked toward me at a fairly rapid pace, and stopped less than a foot
away. "Then you,' He called out in nearly a shout. "You!" He jabbed his index finger toward
me, or so I assumed since it was still covered in the nearly black sleeve. "You are the wrong
color!" He then placed his arms akimbo, and did not move.
Er... Uh. Okay, that was the last thing *I* expected to have him tell me. "I-I-I'm not entirely
sure what you mean?" I ventured to ask, not knowing his reaction.
Suddenly a hand whipped out, shot up, grabbed a hold of and tossed back his hood. I
flinched, expecting to be attacked, or struck or something. But as the hood tumbled down, I
could clearly see who the stranger was. An ant.
He was a younger middle aged ant, deep purple in color with dark green eyes. He then grew a
really deep smile, one reminiscent of Flik's when he's got one of his *bright* ideas, so to speak.
"You are beige." He observed matter of factly.
I sat there trying to decipher his statement. "Uh, Yeah. That's right, I am beige." I responded
with a great deal of confusion.
He then removed his cloak, and after taking a fair amount of time to fold the cloak in such a
meticulous way, he tossed it onto the one side of the couch, and sat down next to it. The cloak
became disarrayed, but he payed no heed to it.
"You are beige." He stated again, and gave me a look that showed a great deal of disappointment. "Who named you?"
"Uh, my name was primarily my dad's idea. His great uncle was named Basil." I gave him a
long look and then remembered his last statement. "What does my color have anything to do
with it?"
"Basil is green."
"What?" I asked again.
"The herb, basil. It's green."
"I know that."
"But your are beige. Shouldn't one named after something match in color?"
"Not that I'm aware of." I responded. True, it was not an uncommon practice for a bug to be
named after their color. "But I don't think it's required."
"I see." He replied slowly, then gave me a long look. "The name suits you. Not that I've seen
beige colored basil, but it suits you." He gave me a wry smile and reached out and patted me on
the knee. "Good name."
"Thank you." I muttered, and flinched a little at the physical contact. It made me a little
uncomfortable for him touching me, especially not knowing him well. "Oh, may I ask your
name?"
"Yes, you may." He answered and sat quietly.
"Well?"
"What" He gave me a sincerely puzzled look.
"What is your name?"
"I'm not sure If I should tell you that." He sat back with a concerned look on his face.
"Why not?" I couldn't figure out why he was so reluctant to tell me his name.
"Then you will know what it is."
"And this bothers you?"
"No, why should it?"
I gave him a blank expression. A long and probing one. "Okay... If it doesn't bother you for me
to know your name, than why won't you tell me what it is?"
"Mac." He replied.
"Mac." I repeated. "Your name is Mac."
"That's right." He then stood up, then looked around my chamber, then walked up to me really
close and placed his mouth to my antennae as if to keep a secret. Odd, since we were the only
two there at the time. "It's short of Macadamia." The went back and sat down again. He
reached out and folded his cloak meticulously, and quickly tossed it behind his head and reclined
back into a comfortable position.
"Nice place ya got here." He offered and gave it a glancing look.
"Thank you." I sat back a bit, and decided to formulate a few questions.
"I'm not from a colony, actually. I live in Bug City."
"I know, that's what it says on the appointment sheet I've been given." I reached for the slip I'd
placed on the coffee table.
Mac eyed my motion and in one quick swoop grabbed the paper first and held it in a somewhat
protective manner. He then looked at it studiously for several seconds.
"Oh, this is terrible, just terrible." He shook his head and muttered softly.
"What is?"
"Are you Basil?" He asked sincerely.
"What?" I responded incredulously. Didn't we have this conversation before?
"Are you Basil?!?" He tossed the piece of paper down onto the couch and quickly got up and
advanced toward me. "Why won't you tell me your name?" He called out emphatically, with
his hands in a pleading gesture. "I gave you mine."
"Yes, I am Basil." I called out, hoping to pacify.
"What time is it?"
"It's 11:35."
Mac then grew a panicked expression. "I'm sorry, I have an appointment. I'm supposed to see
someone about an 'RP' opportunity. Some guy named after a herb or something."
"That would be here." I responded in a calming voice.
"The interview?" He asked.
"Yes, the interview." I rolled my eyes feeling a great deal of frustration.
"Then I'm at the right place." He nodded. "I'm ready to begin." He sat down and made himself
comfortable.
"Okay. The reason I've asked you here is that my associate and I have been looking for a way to
liven up a TP we're working on."
"What's their name?"
"Her name is Willow. You'll have a chance to meet her if we pick you for the part."
"I'm not sure about this." He shook his head and gave me a doubtful expression.
"What's the problem."
"You're associate is a tree. How effective is that in producing and RP? I mean, I hope this tree
doesn't talk back, or I'll have to pass on the whole deal."
"She's an ant."
"An ant?" He repeated.
"Yes, she's an ant. She was too busy with other stuff, so she asked me to hold this interview."
"Well then, shall we begin."
"Lets." I muttered. It figured, my first interview, and I get some kind of nut.
"Okay. Like I said before, we're interviewing individuals for our tiny plot called 'Muted
Identity'. And we need someone who can liven it up a bit.
Mac sat there with a most fascinated expression. "Interview. Don't you find that a most
apropos word. I mean think about it. Inter-view. We are interacting, and you are hoping to
give to me a better viewpoint of the situation."
I sat there rather dumbfounded. I certainly wasn't expecting to get as thoughtful a response as
that. "Yeah. Yeah, that is very apropos. I hadn't thought of that." I paused to collect my
thoughts, a challenge to say the least, given the current circumstances "Okay, here is the
situation. We have two ants who are keeping shelter in the city, trying to survive. Their names
are Basil and Walter.
"I don't think that's such a good idea." He shook his head wearily.
"Uh, well we're quite along the way to change the plot now."
"No, I mean keeping ants in the city. They aren't particularly welcomed there."
"I know, that's to build suspense and drama."
"Oh, in that case, it's a great idea. I mean, I thought you were looking for a place for ants to
live, I'd suggest against that."
"I would too."
"I mean, look at me. I've lived there for a great many years. It's a tough life, but I manage."
"You mean with the cloak."
"What about it?"
"It obvious you wear that cloak to hide your identity."
"Actually, I wear it because it's comfortable, but now that you mention it, it does have that
advantage doesn't it?" He then picked up the cloak and admired it. "I can see why you are a co-
producer on this tiny plot. You are very sharp.
"Um thanks. I appreciate that."
"No problem. I'm a good judge in character. I'm sure that would come in handy at some
point."
"I hadn't thought of that, but that is good to know."
He simply nodded.
"Okay, so Walter and I will trying to eek out a living in the city, and you will come and give us
some advice on how to survive."
"How will I know the difference?"
"Difference?"
"Between the two of you. That might be important."
"Okay, the other ant, Walter is a bit taller than I am, and he's kind of a muddy lavender."
"Gotcha."
"You'll give us some words of advice. At least part of this log will take place in the library, then
we'd like to use your residence if that's okay with you."
"It's a bit cluttered." He protested a little.
"That's okay. It adds atmosphere."
He then took a look around my chamber. "*Your* place looks quite clean, Walter. I'm not so
sure you could handle it."
"Oh, I think I could, I just made a special effort because I'm interviewing today. Oh, and I'm
Basil, not Walter."
"You look like a Walter."
"I didn't know a 'Walter' had a 'look'.
"I think they do."
"Okay." I shook my head again. I'd hoped that the other interviews, assuming we had more,
would be easier that this guy. I had a lot of trouble seeing this individual working out for our
logs. I mean the poor guy is quite nice, but he has a hard time keeping his mind on things.
"So, Walter. Is there anything else you'd like to ask me?"
"What?" I was brought out of my train of thought rather abruptly.
"I was wondering if there was anything else you wanted to know."
"Um," I gave that some thought. "Uh, nope. I'll get with Willow on this and see what she says."
"Okay. That must be quite convenient working with your sister like that."
"My sister?"
"Yeah, you said that Willow was your sister."
"Willow is *Walter's* sister."
"Exactly!" He beamed.
"I surrender." I muttered and decided that it was about time the interview was over.
"I'll get with my associate and make the final decision then."
"Are you and your sister not getting along to well?"
"What?" I replied weakly, my energies being taxed greatly by this arrangement.
"You called your sister your 'associate' I assumed that if you were getting along better, you
would have called her your sister." He smiled weakly at me in sympathy. "I've been separated
from my family so I'd just be happy to *see* my sister again. I hope you and she make up
soon."
"I'm sorry to hear that." I patted Mac on the shoulder. I was about to attempt to clarify my
name and the relation to the two other ants I was working with. But he was so difficult, and with
me being so drained at this point I decided to let it pass. Though I had to chuckle to myself. As
well as Willow and Walter were getting along, she might not mind the arrangement that poor
Mac had stuck in his head.
"Thanks for you time, Mac. You should be hearing from us in a few days."
Mac simply nodded, put his cloak back on and without another word, left my chamber. After he
left, I wrote his name in the blank space. 'Macadamia' underneath it, I wrote a short note. 'A
nut!' I stared at the note for several seconds and gave out a chortle at the irony of his name and
the conversation. "Oh, wait until Willow hears about this one!" I giggled and quickly left my
chamber.
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