I’ve had this one thing on my mind for a year now; Write stories around Calliope Mori. Looking back on the last twelve months, I did just that on reddit and twitter.
But those are not the stories I set out to write.

Context

Calliope Mori, a VTuber, is many things.
To me, she is an oasis of inspiration. And that’s not even one of her actual characteristics; she’s a persistent worker, keeps an open mind, has street smarts, and can be an incredible incredible softie. Her songs and lyrics are amazing! She leads by example dropping lyrics, songs, music video’s and entertaining streams. Even outside of the VTuber community she makes an enormously huge impact gathering views and listens on her work. Check out her rankings on music streaming platforms and Youtube.
Simply showing up and sharing her work already inspired many. Or she did move atleast me.

Inspiration

A muse is a source of inspiration, a common word and has a well known description. Lesser known, however, is the old(er) definition; A poet. The name Calliope was specifically chosen for the VTuber persona because of its link to this word, I’m sure.
Short Greek mythology lesson; Calliope, daughter of Zeus, was one of the three nine muses who are patron godessess of art. She received gifts from bards and men in love, mere mortals, for a glimpse of brilliance in the form of epic poetry and eloquence. Do you see the correlation, eh? She raps, epic beats, eloquent words… and sometimes profanity.

So after learning about her existence I did what any wannabe Hercules would do; Send in a Youtube superchat! In return she blessed me with mentioning my name. angelic tune playing in the background
But for real, this century’s Calliope is a badass and pumping out creative work at the speed my grandma crochets new shawls. (Super fast)
I’m way better off than the ancient Greek plebeian. So that got me -musing-, which is a fancy wording of being absorbed into my own thoughts and pondering deeply, about “knitting” something of my own.

And just like that my popular phase begins! I write out my deepest feelings, my bestest quips, my… my… words are hard! There are still decades of hard work between me and immortality on the scale of J.R.R. Tolkien.
It’s an ongoing process. :)

Stories

What I actually wanted to write was a longform book. Or at least 2 chapters of a story that is about the anthropomorphization of death, a humanlike reaper.
I see a challenge in integrating the world of the living with the world beyond, dubbed the “ethereal”. There must also be forbidden love of course, wouldn’t want to write a story without a bit of fanservice.

I have no writing experience, however, and started out with random mumbo jumbo. On occasion I talked to people on the internet to gather ideas and feedback, that allowed me to make tiny leaps in understanding the art a bit more.
A year has passed since. Given the low output, it’s fair to say I didn’t actively put a lot of time into the cycle of practice/feedback/repeat. There is stuff I wrote without showing anyone, but without any feedback it’s irrelevant to further consider.

A point of notability; These stories all have a grim/dark theme. Altough these stories are born from my imagination, I don’t actually feel lost/lonely/suicidal. Calliope and the theme of her virtual avatar is interesting, so that’s the material I start working around.

Grasping for the relief of death

Following is a small text in direct response to art I saw on Twitter (Hi, Myxo). The artstyle blew my mind at the time.

I've lived a restless life. How couldn't I see? 
Her beauty is ethereal. What have I done?
Was the destruction I sought worth it? Her touch is gentle. Now I understand...
What I longed for was a new beginning. Guided by her hand.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The text is about a troubled person who committed a heinous act. His actions have bad consequences and before his last breath he stares at the reaper herself.
The person understands it’s his time to go and hopes(!) to get taken to a better place where his starting circumstances are better. He crosses Styx peacefully.
To spell it out; He’s lying to himself, a sign of his insanity.

Heartbreak and loneliness

Inspired by Kiara, I wrote about Kiara earlier, who moved back from Japan to Austria at the time. There was a lot of online talk leading up to this event, and I wanted to contribute by writing a silly what-if story about her friendship with Calli.
I set out to write an encounter that does character building, while discussing plastic bags from convenience stores. This twisted into something more emotionally loaded than needed be. I started winging it, had fun in the meantime, but that deteriorated the writing quality a lot.

"... Calli... What are you doing?"

I notice my pink-haired friend trudging along the sidewalk. From the opposite side of the street I'm waving at her like a crazy person.

"...? Carrying my Groceries. What's up, Kusotori?"

Using her arms as a cradle I see she's barely holding up a few bottles of wine, vegetables, and a small bag of rice.

In my enthusiasm I sprint up to her, dodging cyclists on the way. Oof, that was a miscalculation.

She offers me her shoulder to take a breather. I shouldn't do intense activities at literally the hottest hour of the day!

"Calli, where's the bag?"

"What bag? This body has two good arms and hands. I can carry my gro.. ceries just fine!"

"You almost dropped that tho..."

"... hmph. I ain't gonna be paying no extra fee for some stinkin plastic bag."

The brutality of her sneer sent a shiver down my spine. That was sooo in character!

This must be about one of her principles, right? She mentions them sometimes at totally random moments.

"~Save money where possible!~" or was it "~Only spend money on the necessary things!~"? For real, those just sound the same to me.

She continues trotting forward and I take a second to save a mental picture of the moment. I feel my face contract with a smile.

"..."

A cold sensation constricts my throat. What should have been enthusiastic kirring at Calli was replaced with silence.

I feel my chest compressing as if I'm getting tightly hugged.

Slightly annoyed I look over my shoulder to see who pushed himself against me. Nothing...

The stir on the street, the noises from passerby cars and bicycles, all is engulfed by a pitch. black. nothingness...

But my body remains, somehow frozen in space. I became a bystander while the world sank into a dark bottomless sea.

Every fiber in my body tries to resist this forced position. So much so that my muscles start to ache, And I can't even move a finger.

The warm memories I hold dearly become overwhelmed by loneliness.

My body aches. Tears flow down my cheeks. I don't want this!

This powerlessness is nauseating. The heavy beating of my heart resonates painfully inside my head.

The last strands of Calli's hair disappear from sight. No! No! No! Calli don't leave me!

She was gulped down by the same darkness that's holding a firm grip onto my body.

Something inside me snapped...

A huge orange blaze spews like a geyser from my gut! The spectacle generates a comforting warmth.

This newfound ability is melting away the effects of the overbearing darkness.

I try to collect my thoughts. Calli is not forgetting about me, I'll make sure of it!

On my back a new fire takes form of feathery wings. They are huge, like 3 times my arm span, and beautiful!

I feel graceful. This aura, and these colors... they're somehow a little familiar.

"All I have to do is just keep moving forward" I whisper as if it was some spell incantation.

The flames burn stronger, radiating a blindingly brilliant light. I can't see anything but notice my body falling down for a second.

"..."

"... why I think this brand is better."

"..."

"... hmm?"

"..."

I blink. It doesn't look like I'm on fire.

"... Kiara..."

Hesitantly I touch my chest with my left hand. Everything certainly feels normal...

"... Oi! Kusotori!"

I looked up and turned to what made that noise, straight into Calli's eyes. She's leering back.

"Yeah! I think so too!" I responded aiming for a natural tone, while I internally scramble to remember what we were talking about. Was it about wine?

I can tell that she's not convinced. Call me a bird brain all you want but I can still tell someone's facial expression. That raised eyebrow and doubtful expression on her face is a ~dead~ giveaway.

"... uh-huh. So tell me, what brand of wine do I like again?"

Ah... shit. She just had to confirm it didn't she? I'm sure my face is now panicky.

Oh man, we've known each other for too long! Convincingly lying to her will be next to impossible ... DISTRACTION TIME!

"Uhh... H-How is that bag holding up for you now?" Oomph! Rough lift off there, Kiara. That was as smooth as sandpaper!

For a moment hey eyes grow bigger, then they frantically wander around the room.

Calli's living room is small but cozy. There is a computer desk, a two-person dining table, and some plants hanging down from the wall.

Earlier we lit and placed candles on top of the table. I find the flickering of a candle soothing. I could sit and just gaze upon a burning fire for hours.

This setup provides just enough light to see each other's faces. The remaining space is veiled in gloom.

I keep staring at Calli until she gives me her answer. Oi oi, Kiara! Maybe turn down the intensity a bit... keep it cool.

She clears her throat in an attempt to bridge the past few seconds of silence, followed by a sip from her cup of wine.

"The flower bag... You mean the bag with the flower print?"

"Yaaas! The pink one." With a playful tone I add, "It looks so cute!"

A teensy-tiny grin breaks through Calli's otherwise stern face. She might not give this impression but pushing the right buttons will sway her just like anyone else.

"Yeah, I carry it around sometimes.. you know, for groceries and stuff. It's very functional."

I snigger, "Calli!! Just.. functional!? Aren't artists supposed to avoid bland and common vocabu-vocabularary?"

With a soft voice she lets out an "Ha haah!" and grins. "You got me there, Kusotori!"

She's right about that. Our friendship started so long ago; in fact, even before my first memory.

Up until now, I cannot remember any moment when she let me down. When I'm sad, she listens. When I'm happy, we celebrate.

I bought her sooo many trinkets in return. Each and everyone is attached to a special memory we made together.

I don't think she could ever forget about me.

"Well, I do strut around the city..."

"... Calli, I don't actually want to hear any words of appraisal right now." I blurted out to intentionally interrupt her.

"I know some feelings communicate better unspoken." That felt like a really wise thing to say, I'm barely holding back my smug face.

"Maybe put those words in your next song for me!"

She thinks about it for a second, "Yeah, maybe I'll do that!"

Her phone buzzes for attention. She takes it out of her pocket single-handed while the other reaches for the cup of wine.

"If you're ever stuck for words just call me, ok? This bird brain wants to help."

I get back just a nod of agreement as her concentration was claimed by the phone. That notification must be from manager-san.

She probably wrote me off as ~the usual~ weird behavior. But this situation must be hard for her too.

I'll remember how much you mean to me. Forever and longer...

Arrgh! If only words were simpler! I'm sure you feel the same.

SPOILERS AHEAD

I used a banal encounter as a recollection. Kiara comes to the realisation that she’ll lose even those little moments she shared with Calli. It touches very light on the topic of “out of sight, out of mind” and the struggle against this, irrefutably, happening.
But the text is mostly just a slice of life episode from Kiara’s perspective. As mentioned in the introduction the emotion emphasis is a badly construed aftertought. One day (probably) I’ll rewrite this piece with another angle on the crux.

Love letter

This text started out as an attempt at writing a Valentine’s letter to Calliope. However, I got stuck on words and it turned into something unrelated. I retained the name Calliope because it’s a badass one!
I tried to go for Hamilton-like rhythm, I watched the musical-movie recently AND IT WAS MINDBLOWINGLY GOOD. The end result is very weak in concistency, and I need to learn about rap flow and rythm. Rythm is legit my weakest trait of all, even worse than my left handed (off hand?) control.

I gave the musical-movie Hamilton a shot because Calliope recommended it wholeheartedly. Thanks Calli, you have undoubtedly great taste!

My dearest, Calliope

Are you doing well? I'm trying to hold out some more.
I miss you! Lonely nights are so cold.
Your smile is what I hold imprinted on my brain.
People say life and death is not the same.
People say, I cannot make a claim, on you, not anymore. 
I'm tensing up ready to revolt.

Honey, I'm restless.
After all that happened, my life is now a living hell.
You're in the kitchen, in the shower, your beauty is ethereal.
But there's no point in dwelling, those thoughts are imaginary.
I wish we had one last picnic in the park, how swell.
Seeking you out, I'm not allowed.
For a choice, a reason, a law of the universe? I'll tear this fabric apart! 
And if God tries to stop me, I'll make him taste my curse!

But her touch, it's gentle. Now, I understand.
Is destruction what I sought? no.
What I longed for was a new beginning. With you guiding us by hand.
I'll keep her close, I promise. 
Tell her stories of who her real mom is, why we went to war.
Sweety, in her you live forevermore.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The text is about a man losing his wife after an accident. What exactly happened is open to interpretation. You could say he married a reaper, or there was some Romeo&Juliet drama going on. Either way, their love bore fruit and his daughter depends on him for survival and education.
This is in letterform, because these are the actual words the man is writing down as if he’s sending the paper to his loved one. It’s nothing more than a cry into the abyss, a way to destress, and to reevaluate his emotions and perspective on his situation. So he writes and figures out, quite a rollercoaster ride.
That’s also how my writing process works. I’m curious to know if anyone else would describe the experience the same.

Conclusion

So it’s been a year, what’s the evaluation?

I conclude that I still have no clue what the hell I’m doing. My methods feel like brute-forcing.
I lack skills in tempo and flow, and need those taught to me because that’s a ceiling I feel cannot be broken on my own. I also don’t put enough hours into this distraction (as in hobby) to make large meaningful progress.

I publish immediately for peace of mind. I regularly revisit my content to look for opportunities to improve.

“And when everyone’s Super, no one will be!” - Bad idea factory