Curators

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"These are real stars. They burn above the roof of the Neath, beyond the earth, in the spaces of heaven."

WARNING: Beyond this point lie extended spoilers for Fallen London, Sunless Sea, Sunless Skies, or Mask of the Rose. This may include endgame or Fate-locked content, including spoilers for formerly restricted storylines such as the endings of Seeking Mr Eaten's Name. Look away now.

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"Intelligent, locomotive-sized chiroptera, able to pry an engine apart with their claws, or pummel it with their hellish shrieks. Curators accumulate hoards, which they guard violently. Each hoard collects artefacts or creatures themed to the Curator’s particular obsession."[1]

Curators are a chiropteran species native to the High Wilderness. Or, to put it simply: space bats.

An Anatomy Lesson

"The Masters wouldn't care for you saying so. But the wings, the arms and legs, all fit."[2]

Curators are bat-like bipeds that possess both arms and wings;[3][4] their fingers are clawed,[5] and their hind talons allow them to hang upside down as a bat would.[6] Some Curators are also known to possess horns,[7] or even semi-sentient teeth which can move independently from their owner.[8][9] In their natural environment, Curators are massive (described as "locomotive-sized"),[10] but they can shrink to two or three meters tall to interact more properly with humans[11] — an ability that may falter when they become enraged.[12][13]

Though extremely long-lived and incredibly difficult for a human to kill,[14] Curators are far from unkillable broadly speaking. Rather, the most effective methods of doing so are rare, esoteric, and either mind-bogglingly expensive or inaccessible to a species so low on the Great Chain of Being. Curators are immune to most toxins, even including Cantigaster venom;[15] their hide is bulletproof,[16] and the firepower required to damage it is tantamount to a weapon of mass destruction.[17] They are, however, sensitive to sound (as bats are),[citation needed] and at least one of the Masters of the Bazaar is known to enter a state of intoxication when exposed to music.[18][19]

Curators rely on their claws, speed, and physical ferocity in combat, but they can also bombard their enemies with ear-splitting shrieks[10][20] and invocations of the Correspondence.[21] Since the Correspondence is their native language,[22] battles between Curators may be akin to a very heated debate[23] — and a debate conducted in the language of the stars has legally binding outcomes.[24]

Curators may hybridize with other species, but the extent to which this is possible is uncertain.[25] Childbirth among Curators takes place while the parent is hanging upside down,[26] in a physically and mentally taxing process[27] that must align with the newborn's obsession.[28] While information about infant Curators is scant, the sole known example was the size of a human baby, with similar features like a large head and eyes;[4] however, it was fully active and capable of interacting with its environment from the moment of birth.[29] Despite the intensive demand of Curator reproduction, familial bonds among this species appear to be weak or fleeting, and emotional attachment between parent and child is minimal at best.[30]

Runtery

"A Tree which lacks the Dual Nature is less. A Beast which lacks the Dual Nature is no less. This kind are not Trees, nor are they Beasts. Each Clutch has sometimes its Runt, who lacketh part of the Nature. Even the Runt has uses. Consider the Owl."[31]

A final trait unique to Curators is something called the Dual Nature, the precise meaning of which is unclear. "Beasts" are not diminished by the lack of the Dual Nature, but "Trees" and Curators are.[32] Sometimes a clutch (litter) of Curators includes one that lacks a part of the Dual Nature, called a Runt.[32] Runts are preyed upon by other Curators,[32] who view them as weak,[33] and even the very notion of "runtery" is a crime in Curator society.[34] While it may be the case that Curator runts are physically smaller than their siblings,[35] a Curator's status as a runt does not appear to have any connection with gender or assigned sex: while Mr Candles uses he/him pronouns,[36] Mr Menagerie uses it/its pronouns like other Curators.[33] According to Mr Pages, elderly Curators are more likely to bear only one child rather than a litter, and if a Curator only has one baby, that baby will be a Runt.[37] It is possible that Mr Candles was not the only Runt among the Masters, but the only source for this assertion is unreliable.[38]

Cosmic Hoarders

"Once, we gathered here. We held our bargains and boasted of our chiefs. Our bands displayed the finest of goods. Our magnanimity was sharp as knives. All knew our worth. Then the light came. They made of our grounds sport. A dancing place. A laughing place. They made bargains of their own."[39]

A Curator formerly known as Mr Apples.

Every Curator is born with an innate obsession, an overpowering urge to acquire and hoard a specific object or concept.[40] This obsession is present even before birth; in fact, an expecting parent Curator can experience its child's obsession as a unique form of pregnancy cravings.[41] Curators store objects they hoard inside large, sticky, papery globes, which human explorers call "Curator's Eggs."[42] When on the move, they use a net harness to carry their treasures with them.[43]

Curators spend much of their time alone or in small groups called flocks,[44] traveling and hunting in the High Wilderness. Occasionally they congregate in large numbers to trade and socialize;[45] during these gatherings, they follow a strict calendar called the Order of Days that determines their activities.[46] Wealthy, successful Curators become band leaders and magnates amongst their comrades.[45][47] It is unclear how much control the Curators hold over the skies, but some quantity of their old hunting grounds has been conquered by the Judgements.[45]

Below are the known observances of the Order of Days:

  • The Day of the Hunt, ordained for the hunting of lesser creatures, showing off trophies,[48][49] and dueling to settle past grievances.[50] Curators customarily set aside language and socialization until the end of the day.[50]
  • The Day of the Feast, a time to dine.[51]
  • The Day of Council, for discussions and debates.[52]
  • The Day of Bargain, when Curators trade.[53]
  • The Day of Slaughter, when murder between Curators is permitted.[54]
  • The Day of Terminations, a celebration of things that end: "labours, loves, lives."[55]
  • An unnamed day for procreation.[56]

Outcasts

"Charity is a crime. The punishment severe."[39]

Curator society is harsh, and a variety of actions and situations may result in ostracism of an individual.[57] Outcast Curators sometimes enter into servitude to Messengers, for protection and a chance to escape their previous misfortune.[58][59] One such group can be found serving the Echo Bazaar in the Neath.[58] A different flock once served the House of Rods and Chains, although they have been disbanded since its death.[60]

Several transgressions against Curator law have been named:

  • Hoarding
  • Light-bringing
  • "Impersonation, and the delivery of false testimony"
  • "Perpetration of the crimes of knife and of candle"
  • "Idleness, and the dwelling-on of dreams"
  • "Runtery, aberration"
  • Pursuit of a Treachery
  • "Failure and defeat; a fall from king to beggar"
  • Glass-whispering
  • Charity[61]
  • Truth-strangling
  • "Violation of the Order of Days, 'which determines the hour of the hunt, the feast, the council, the bargain, and the slaughter'"

Cultural Inspirations

The Curators' defining trait is a biological imperative to hoard something specific, which governs their behavior even before birth. Their collections are not solely for survival or aesthetic pleasure, but a metaphysical need tied to their very existence; they are also conspicuously displayed, with wild Curators even wearing their hoards on their bodies. A Curator's status is directly correlated to the grandeur of their hoard and the intensity of their singular pursuit. It is possible that this is an exaggerated metaphor for capitalist consumer culture, reflecting the societal dynamic of late-stage capitalism in which identity and status are linked to consumption and ownership.

Curators are emotionally detached from their peers and even their own offspring, and profoundly societally alienated. Their only community interaction occurs under rigid, scheduled observances, and they are so engrossed by obsession and accumulation that all other aspects of social life, even reproduction, are hollow and ritualized. Charity, daydreaming ("the dwelling-on of dreams"), and idleness are all crimes in Curator society, essentially disallowing emotional and imaginative aspects of community. In a word, interaction between Curators, no matter the purpose, is entirely transactional.

While the above points serve as potential literary critiques of capitalism, Curators also push the philosophy of Objectivism (as conceptualized by Ayn Rand) to a logical and grotesque extreme. According to Objectivism, rational self-interest is the highest moral purpose, and that productive achievement is the noblest activity of humans; while individuals should pursue their passions (or obsessions) without guilt, altruism is seen as a moral error. Curators, however, are defined by their individual obsessions and ruthless pursuit of their personal truth. Their passion is no longer liberating but imprisoning, and their rejection of altruism leads to isolation rather than freedom. Ironically, while Ayn Rand celebrated self-created value and personal purpose, Curators are born with their obsessions predetermined, rendering them slaves to their own "destinies."

References

  1. ↑ Curator, Sunless Skies
  2. ↑ Declare your (Skeleton Type) a completed Curator, Fallen London
  3. ↑ Declare your (Skeleton Type) a completed Curator, Fallen London "The Masters wouldn't care for you saying so. But the wings, the arms and legs, all fit."
  4. ↑ 4.0 4.1 Witness the birth, Fallen London "But when those wings unfurl, what emerges is no bigger than a human babe, dark and furred. Four claws scrabble along the ground. Two stubby nubs on its back that might one day be wings. The proportions of an infant, with a huge head and enormous, pleading eyes."
  5. ↑ Take a trophy, Sunless Skies "You settle instead for a long-fingered claw."
  6. ↑ Ambition: in the Heart of the Bazaar, Fallen London "[...] The Masters have gathered. They are hanging from the ceiling, their robes wound tightly about them in folds, their matted hind-talons sunk deep into the fleshy surface of the ceiling."
  7. ↑ Watch, Sunless Sea "Its wings are the sky. Its horns and vanes blaze with scars."
  8. ↑ Bite like Mr Veils, Fallen London "Are your teeth sharp like a Vake's teeth? Are they free-moving? Do they seek hearts?"
  9. ↑ Enter the compartment - with the Hideous Promissory Note, Fallen London "Mr Stones unhinges its jaws – and the bloody teeth that climb into the carriage proceed to climb into those jaws, re-inserting themselves into the Master's gums."
  10. ↑ 10.0 10.1 Ten Perils of the Heavens: Curators, Skyfarer Sky-Stories Supplement "intelligent, locomotive-sized chiroptera, able to pry an engine apart with their claws, or pummel it with their hellish shrieks. [...]"
  11. ↑ Former Developer Bruno Dias, on Twitter "btw, mr wines is canonically around 9' -- but hunched in his heavy Master's robes, he looks more like an approachable 7'"
  12. ↑ Light Fingers: Mr Fires' Ultimatum 4, Fallen London "Mr Fires turns to you, its robes rippling as the body underneath unfolds. "Are we agreed?" It waits for your answer. Its shadow stretches up the sides of the pit, jagged and towering."
  13. ↑ Refuse its offer, Fallen London "For a moment, Mr Fires looms larger still. It twitches spasmodically. But then it masters itself."
  14. ↑ Ambition Nemesis: A Connoisseur of Cessation, Fallen London "The Masters were here before London, they intend to remain long after the city is made dust. They are ageless, relentless and remorseless. But London is a city of ingenuity and invention. If there is a way to destroy a Master, someone in the Fifth City must know of it."
  15. ↑ Conduct your own researches, Fallen London "Eventually, after much night-work, you come across the name of a famed poisoner. Long dead (and permanently so), his records reference several poisons of unnatural potency. Cantigaster's venom has been proven to be ineffective against the Masters (Cf the case of the Emerald Harlequin). [...]"
  16. ↑ Kill the creature, Sunless Skies "[...] Bullets merely crumple on its hide. In a single swipe, it eviscerates an engineer. A boiler-woman advances, her rifle cracking. Affronted, it methodically dismembers her. Nothing can kill it. Nothing can stop it. [...]"
  17. ↑ Blast it with your most powerful weapon, Sunless Skies "Your weapons roar and thunder. The locomotive, still anchored to the Tower of Chimes, shudders unpromisingly as it absorbs their recoil. As the smoke clears, the hunched abomination is reeling in the air, its now-tattered wings flapping drunkenly. With a final mournful screech, it swoops away."
  18. ↑ Give Mr Barleycorn the Seal of Mr Pipes, Sunless Skies "I favour music, myself. A symphony is as potent to me as good wine is to you. Your kind have been bounteous in that regard."
  19. ↑ A loyalty worthy of praise, The Silver Tree "[...] Behind a curtain, a servant was playing a pipe of some sort, as was customary at these dinners. The Emissary was swaying, very gently, in time to the music. [...] He lurched, suddenly, and stumbled off. I would have believed him intoxicated, but that night, as usual, he had not had even a sip of airag."
  20. ↑ No-one! Who cares?, Fallen London "[...] ...that was noisy! But worth the pain. Pages' shrieks still ring in your ears [...]"
  21. ↑ This Wild Highness, Fallen London "One is brutal, efficient, whipping between the approaching Starved, carving each into bloody, bubbling chunks. Another pauses at each of its marks, suspended in the air momentarily while a clawed hand simply brushes the skin. Those Starved scream as they fall. The last keeps its distance – soaring seemingly at random, like a gleeful swift. But the air shimmers around it, and you can trace the path of its destruction by the Starved whose blood boils within them, who find themselves indebted to the ground, and those who the air simply betrays and will allow no further passage."
  22. ↑ Codename: Sugarplum, Fallen London "Mr Stones is not eloquent. Until it is. The Correspondence is its native tongue. When it responds to its fellow Master, its fiery words blaze in every diamond, catch every facet: rhetorical constellations."
  23. ↑ Codename: Sugarplum, Fallen London "Every point Mr Stones makes is a flaming whip, a shooting star. Its diamonds multiply the light. Mr Spices leans low like a crouching cat, spouting its own burning desire: This should be mine. They circle each other. Their speech is the glint on the crags, the gleam on their claws, the blood that bubbles from your pores as you blister from their heated argument."
  24. ↑ Codename: Sugarplum, Fallen London "[...] When the Masters employ the Correspondence to debate business matters, their arguments tend to have binding outcomes."
  25. ↑ Conclude your study of Mr Spices' tears, Fallen London "An infernal element has taken root in Mr Spices' body [...] To confirm the child's parentage, you seek out the help of a consultant, the Honorary Dean of Infernal Relations [...] After examining your data, he suggests a devil of 'noble extraction and a long-standing relation to certain chthonic powers'. Undoubtedly, the Creditor's Solicitor."
  26. ↑ Witness the birth, Fallen London "The passenger car is a mess of soiled rags and tension. Mr Pages glances back at you with some concern; it appears Mr Spices is no longer on the operating table. Instead, it clings to the ceiling of the carriage by its legs, much like – well, a bat. With its body suspended like this, its head nearly grazes the floor of the carriage; it stares back at you with a pained grimace."
  27. ↑ In Which a Child is Named, Fallen London "Mr Spices, for its part, is lying unconscious on the floor of the train car, oblivious to the events around it. Pages turns to speak to you: "I will take care of my/our colleague. Parturition is a difficult process for our kind, and this birth was particularly exhausting. Spices is in no danger, but it will be unconscious for some time.""
  28. ↑ Return to Mr Spices with the results of your investigation, Fallen London "Out of the mass of garments that make up its robes, it produces a rolled-up set of blueprints. "Plans for an engine... a locomotive. One of terrible speed and power. The only suitable environment for my child to be born without causing undue damage on the way out.""
  29. ↑ Try to extricate it from yourself, Fallen London "You try to grab it by the waist but it somehow senses your intentions, scurrying around your body like a spider evading a broom. Even if you could get your hands on it, the force with which it's gripping would make it impossible to remove without harming the child – or, perhaps, yourself."
  30. ↑ Deliver Mr Transport to the Solicitor-Baroness, Fallen London "I assure you that this is for the best. The circumstances of the Masters are not ideal for the raising of a child. And familial affection is difficult, for their kind."
  31. ↑ No map knows the place you go, Fallen London
  32. ↑ 32.0 32.1 32.2 No map knows the place you go, Fallen London "A Tree which lacks the Dual Nature is less. A Beast which lacks the Dual Nature is no less. This kind are not Trees, nor are they Beasts. Each Clutch has sometimes its Runt, who lacketh part of the Nature. Even the Runt has uses. Consider the Owl." [Editor's note: The runt of a clutch of owl chicks may be killed and eaten by its siblings if resources are scarce. This phenomenon occurs in a variety of other birds as well as mammals.]
  33. ↑ 33.0 33.1 Give Mr Barleycorn the Seal of Mr Menagerie, Sunless Skies "The Runt [...] "I confess, I am amazed it has survived. My master was not tolerant of its various weaknesses. Its single-mindedness; its cleaving to antiquated custom. How it chafed at its chains." Mr Barleycorn dips the seal in ink and presses it to paper. "Still. I am glad it has found new purpose. I'm pleased to hear it's doing well.""
  34. ↑ A secret about the Masters, Failbetter Games "Thirdly, we have an inkling about the reasons for their ignoble conditions, although no indication which applies to which Master. The circumstances given in A Rhyming Revelry are: [...] runtery, aberration [...]"
  35. ↑ Force the Convocation tell you how to reach the Grave of Mirrors, Fallen London "The Convocation shrink back. "LET'S NOT BE HASTY," says the smallest one (which still towers above you)." [Editor's note: It is unclear whether this Master is Candles, but we have no reason to assume it isn't.]
  36. ↑ Tell them what became of him, Fallen London "They will find each mote of Candles. He is a wound, an absence, a decay [...] They look upon the remnants of the Runt; they grieve; they will not forget."
  37. ↑ Mr Pages: Matchmaking, Mask of the Rose "I am not yet so decrepitated as to have only one. A litter of one has only the runt! [...] If there were time for such distractions, and if I were disposed, and if it were the day appointed for the forming of families, I am still polyfructant!"
  38. ↑ The Convocation of Runts, Fallen London "There are eleven; ten together, one alone. [...] Behind them, something massive looms in the dark of this high wilderness. It is too vast for you to make out its shape, this close. Spires hang in the gloom. Sigils flare on its skin." [Editor's note: This is within Mr Mirrors' dreams, showing the Masters making their deal with the Bazaar. Mirrors seems to be stepping into the shoes of Mr Candles in this dream, but the existence of more than one runt is nonetheless of interest.]
  39. ↑ 39.0 39.1 Listen to a story of things past, Sunless Skies
  40. ↑ Curator, Sunless Skies "Curators accumulate hoards, which they guard violently. Each hoard collects artifacts or creatures themed to the Curator’s particular obsession."
  41. ↑ Offer Mr Spices your medical opinion on its peculiar health, Fallen London "I've filled a warehouse with wagons and landaus. The other Masters would know what was wrong if they knew I was collecting."
  42. ↑ Ten Discoveries to Find in the Heavens: Curator’s Eggs, Skyfarer Sky-Stories Supplement "large, sticky, papery globes which contain the collections of the chiropterous Curators. You’ll never know what’s inside one until you open it. Or something inside does."
  43. ↑ Examine the creature's collection, Sunless Skies "The Curator carries items using a tight net harness. There is a fleshy, leathery quality to the fine cords."
  44. ↑ Show it the seal of Mr Barleycorn, Sunless Skies "I would talk with Mr Barleycorn and dig his knowledge of the stars from his heart. But I am not the one he wants, not from its flock. It will only be more morose from our meeting."
  45. ↑ 45.0 45.1 45.2 Listen to a story of things past, Sunless Skies "Once, we gathered here. We held our bargains and boasted of our chiefs. Our bands displayed the finest of goods. Our magnanimity was sharp as knives. All knew our worth. Then the light came. They made of our grounds sport. A dancing place. A laughing place. They made bargains of their own."
  46. ↑ The Counting of Days, Fallen London "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose, under heaven. The days in the sky are marked with observances, holidays, feasts, fasts. Your traveling companions pass the time by closely observing it, slicing it into choice cuts."
  47. ↑ A secret about the Masters, Failbetter Games "Occasionally, some instinct draws them together to boast of their recent bargains, trade secrets, and battle to establish primacy. Their chiefs are victorious, merciless pedlar-magnates."
  48. ↑ Observe the Day of the Hunt, Fallen London "Present your Trophies and declare yourself a hunter."
  49. ↑ Observe the Day of the Feast, Fallen London "Before you go to sleep, the Curator goes away and returns with another kill, though it is not the Day assigned."
  50. ↑ 50.0 50.1 Observe the Day of the Hunt (Irem), Fallen London "A day for pursuing, and fighting, and hopefully catching. [...] You assemble into pairs of hunter and hunted based on past grievances. And then, you let loose and chase one another in aerial duels – letting go of your habitual names, speaking only in piercing screams [...] Your victory will be celebrated – after the day ends, and such things as laughter and language are once again allowed."
  51. ↑ Observe the Day of the Feast, Fallen London "Observe the Feast with a meal."
  52. ↑ Observe the Day of Council, Fallen London "You take the third place in the Council, dressed in Veils-Velvet robes."
  53. ↑ Observe the Day of Bargain, Fallen London "Offer the Curator the gift of a weapon. [...] The Curator makes you a gift in exchange – chosen, perhaps, to suit what it imagines your tastes to be."
  54. ↑ Observe the Day of Slaughter, Fallen London "Kill the Curator. [...] It tries to kill you first, of course. The Day of Slaughter is the only day it observes as intended."
  55. ↑ Observe the Day of Terminations, Fallen London "A day for celebrating things that end: labours, loves, lives. [...] 'The cessation of something that has overstayed its welcome' [...] The observances are simple. You share a meal – and then you stop."
  56. ↑ Mr Pages#Matchmaking, Mask of the Rose "My hesitance is a question of timing, effort, and the proper forms. If there were time for such distractions, and if I were disposed, and if it were the day appointed for the forming of families, I am still polyfructant!"
  57. ↑ A secret about the Masters, Failbetter Games "One rhyme concerns eleven pilgrims who travelled from a cold and windy waste. It enumerates each of the reasons the pilgrims were unwelcome in their homeland."
  58. ↑ 58.0 58.1 A secret about the Masters, Failbetter Games "...the Masters were not Masters in the High Wilderness. Indeed, they accepted the position as emissaries of the Bazaar in order to escape misfortune, failure, and fruitlessness."
  59. ↑ Show Mr Barleycorn's seal, Sunless Skies "Mr Pennies pounces on the seal. "The seneschal," it wheezes. "One of seven. Still loyal? Yes. Always loyal. Always waiting for reward. No reward for those who serve the Messengers. Always outcasts. Always disappointed.""
  60. ↑ Talk with Mr Barleycorn, Sunless Skies "There were seven of us, once. Outcasts, bound to this Messenger's service. But the Messenger defied the Halved's command, and the Halved slew it. We were free. My colleagues, fled. But I remained to serve the Halved."
  61. ↑ Listen to a story of things past, Sunless Skies "Charity is a crime. The punishment severe."
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