Charming Your Socks Off
One of the many responsibilities of being the curator or one of the keepers of the Floating Oak is caring for the relics and items here. There are some which require upkeep, some as detailed as caring for a finicky plant, some as straightforward as basic dusting, most non-urgent, and a few that are absolutely vital. Among the more unusual varieties of care is conversing with things that are intelligent.
It would be cruel to simply set an intelligent hat on a shelf and leave it alone, unable to communicate - intelligence is an indicator of personhood, and I would not simply leave a person locked in a room with no contact for years and years. We go and speak with the items in our care, and use them when we can, and if they want to be used.
For example, the Naught Prospect was in our care for a few decades. He was an ash quarterstaff embedded with three rough white stones emanating a soft white light. He claims to be the soul of an old elvish wizard who transferred himself to the staff near the moment of his death in order to provide advice and guidance to his final apprentice, or any others who wield the staff. He delights in giving advice and knowledge, much of it unwelcome and dubiously helpful, though accurate and covering an extremely broad range of topics with substantial depth. Asking him a question directly will yield a different result, however - one of the stones will grow dim and grey, and rather than answer your question, he will instead tell you whether the question asked is a good question, and whether it is relevant to what you wish to learn or accomplish.
Despite his curmudgeonly nature, and frustrating though this method is, he has given valuable guidance in helping the keepers and I research the relics that come into our care, both in the practical aspects of how they work and in their history. The breadth of his knowledge is frankly astounding, even if it seems like not all of him made it into the staff. He cannot seem to remember his own name, nor that of any apprentices. He’ll recall specific details about a tower, or a lake, or a key, or his beard, and specific geography relating to his past seems to elude him. He can’t tell you how old he was when he died or how long ago it happened, or even if he had any family. He’ll also become confused and agitated after asking three questions, as though he becomes exhausted. We limited ourselves to two and some conversation, nodding at his advice and stories before moving along.
We passed the old wizard along (with his blessing and a modest price) to an ambitious student who came in to seek help with research that was novel, complex, and fairly dangerous.
A more recent addition that is absolutely delightful is Argyle, Master of Music. A charming little friend, he is a well-made maroon and blue sock, with two brass button eyes and a little yellow felt hat with a matching feather with it. His little cloth arms dangle limply and comically to his sides.
To speak to him, you must place him on your hand. He is, after all, a sock puppet. When he speaks, it’s with a silly version of the voice of whoever is wearing him - were it not his natural speaking voice, it would almost feel like mockery. Argyle is affable, kind, and is generally willing to do whatever his tiny little body is capable of to help someone. The only pitfall in speaking to him is that if you address the person wearing him as him instead of speaking to Argyle directly, he becomes deeply and understandably offended, and he will refuse to speak to you for the rest of the day.
Argyle loves singing and dancing, and can improvise a fantastic stand-up comedy performance. While his music and dancing are rarely good, his performances are always more than charming enough to make up for it. He loves birthdays, particularly performing at them, and we make it a point to bring him out on the town to perform, especially during festivals and holidays.
This little sock was crafted and taught by a travelling bard from the Ilex Duchies named Silla, who was rather ironically stricken by stage fright. Silla needed a companion to perform with, and their new friend eventually took center stage. The duo delighted audiences of all ages and all stations, and played shows for decades, entertaining people until the bard retired about a dozen years back. They brought Argyle here, wanting to share his magic with as many people as possible.
The Floating Oak is a home not just to inert objects, but to people with unique stories, all of which deserve to be cared for, and to have their stories remembered and told. This is at the core of the Floating Oak. Our world is complex and filled with so many captivating, wonderful tales, and we must do all we can to preserve them for the future.