Narcissus: A Tale of Self-Obsession
Oh, Narcissus! The ultimate tale of vanity gone terribly wrong. Rumplestiltskin, Alice, and Loki are eager to sink their teeth into this one. Let’s get to it!
Rumplestiltskin’s Opinion:
"Ah, Narcissus, the boy who loved himself just a little too much. Let me break it down for you. This fella was so stunning, so utterly enchanting, that everyone who saw him fell head over heels. But Narcissus? He couldn’t be bothered with anyone else. He was too busy basking in his own reflection, quite literally.
One day, while wandering through the woods, he stumbled upon a clear pool of water. And what does he see? His own reflection staring back at him. Completely smitten, he couldn’t tear himself away. There he sat, gazing at himself until—well, let’s just say he wasted away, becoming one with nature in the form of a flower. A pretty sad ending for someone so obsessed with his looks, wouldn’t you agree?
The real kicker here? Narcissus didn’t even realize he was looking at himself! Talk about being blinded by beauty."
➡ The Takeaway
Self-love is great, but maybe don’t take it to the point where you lose all sense of reality and end up as a botanical lesson in humility.
Alice’s Opinion:
"Oh, darlings, Narcissus is a tale of tragic beauty and even more tragic stupidity! Imagine, a man so in love with his own reflection that he couldn’t see past the ripples in the water. It’s almost poetic, isn’t it? Narcissus wandered through life, turning down all the love he was offered, because no one could ever compare to... well, himself!
When he saw his reflection in that fateful pool, it was as if the heavens had aligned to show him his true love—himself. Poor, deluded soul sat there, day after day, entranced by his own image. And when he finally perished, a delicate flower sprouted where he fell, forever marking the spot of his self-inflicted demise.
So what’s the moral, my dearling Mortals? Maybe, just maybe, stop to smell the roses and appreciate the world outside your own reflection."
➡ The Takeaway
Obsessing over yourself might just leave you lonely—or worse, a flower rooted to the spot of your own downfall.
Loki’s Opinion: Modern Edition
"Oh, Narcissus, the original influencer, if he lived today, he’d be the TikTok king. Picture this: 5 million selfies on his phone, all meticulously curated so he could gaze adoringly at his own magnificence whenever the mood struck. And let’s not even talk about the endless streams of videos, him walking around with his phone perpetually held high, vlogging every moment like his life was a never-ending reality show.
He’d be the kind of guy who walks into traffic while live-streaming his latest rant about how the lighting in his favorite café isn’t doing his cheekbones justice. His followers? Obsessed. His DMs? Full of fanboys and fangirls swooning over his latest thirst trap. But Narcissus? He’s too busy scrolling through his own profile to notice anyone else.
Then he finds the perfect reflection—maybe in a crystal-clear lake or a shiny glass building—and it’s over. He’s stuck, glued to his reflection like a moth to a flame, unable to tear himself away. His phone battery dies, but it doesn’t matter. The real tragedy? No one’s around to document his downfall for his followers.
Honestly, he deserved the fall. You can't be that in love with yourself without hitting rock bottom. Life’s a balance, even for someone as ‘flawless’ as Narcissus.”
➡ The Takeaway:
A little vanity is cool, but if you’re so self-obsessed that you forget to charge your phone, you might just end up as the cautionary tale in someone else’s story—or a flower growing by the water, whichever comes first.
Alice’s Chimes In:
"I know, right?" Alice exclaimed, sipping from her perpetually empty tea cup as if it held the elixir of life. She burst out laughing, the kind that made everyone in the room stop and stare. "Narcissus is basically the blueprint for every self-absorbed influencer out there. Can you imagine him today? He’d have an entire account dedicated to 'Just Me, Myself, and I'. Oh, the hashtags—#TooHotToHandle, #MirrorGoals, #NoFilterNeeded—but we all know he’d still slap a filter on it, just in case."
Alice set her cup down, still giggling. "He’d be that guy who spends an hour finding the perfect angle, holding up traffic because 'the lighting’s just right.' And when he finally posts it, he’d caption it, 'Woke up like this.' Please, Narcissus, you didn’t wake up like that; you spent half the morning getting it right."
She leaned back, her grin wide. "And let’s not forget his inevitable ‘mental health break’ post, where he goes off-grid for a day, then comes back dramatically with a tearful video thanking his followers for their support. 'I needed time to reflect,' he’d say, as if the whole world wasn’t already his mirror."
Alice chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye. "Honestly, the only thing missing from his downfall was a live stream of him falling into that pool, with a ‘wait for it’ caption. Classic Narcissus."
She grabbed her cup again, raising it in a mock toast. "To self-love, but maybe not that much."
Rumplestiltskin’s Meltdown:
From the corner of the Immortal Gazette studio, Rumplestiltskin stood with his arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. His face was a mask of forced patience, but the twitch in his eye gave away his irritation. "Oh, sure," he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let’s all laugh at poor Narcissus and his little mirror obsession. Because clearly, Alice and Loki are the real stars of the show here. Never mind the masterful storyteller who got this whole conversation started."
Alice staring at Rumplestiltskin silently mouths "poor Narcissus what the hell".
Rumplestiltskin glares at her for a few seconds.
He sauntered closer, waving his hands grandly as if presenting an invisible audience. "I mean, who needs Rumplestiltskin’s wit and charm when you’ve got Alice with her empty tea cup and Loki with his biting commentary, right? Oh, how the crowd must adore your little quips while I stand here, forgotten, like yesterday’s news."
His voice rose, tinged with mock sweetness. "I’m so happy for you both, really. It’s just delightful to see my spotlight getting hijacked by the likes of you two. Truly, I don’t know how I’d survive without your endless banter overshadowing my brilliance."
With a dramatic sigh, he threw his hands up. "You know what? Fine. Enjoy your little show. I’ll just vanish into the background, like a good, irrelevant relic."
And with that, Rumplestiltskin clapped his hands together. In a poof of smoke, he disappeared from the studio, leaving behind only the faint scent of brimstone, the echo of his sarcastic tirade, and—quite suddenly—a massive poster plastered across the studio wall.
It was an exaggerated portrait of Rumplestiltskin himself, grinning smugly, one hand raised in a theatrical wave. Above his head, bold golden letters declared: "Best Storyteller Ever Award!" Beneath, in smaller text, it read: "Presented to Rumplestiltskin, the Unparalleled Master of Tales."
Loki and Alice sat in silence for a moment, the remnants of Rumplestiltskin’s smoky exit still lingering in the air. Then, as if on cue, they turned to each other, exchanging knowing glances.
Loki and Alice stared at the poster, wide-eyed for a beat, before they both burst into uncontrollable laughter.
Loki wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, that’s rich. He really couldn’t help himself, could he?"
Alice shook her head, still giggling. "He had to leave his mark. It’s like a child throwing a temper tantrum and then leaving a note saying ‘I’m running away.’"
Loki leaned back, gesturing grandly at the poster. "Well, at least now we have some new décor. Maybe we should just leave it up, you know, as a reminder of his greatness."
Alice smirked. "Oh, absolutely. Every time he comes back, we’ll just point to it and say, 'Yes, yes, we know, you’re the best.' That’ll really grind his gears."
They both laughed again, the poster looming over them as a testament to Rumplestiltskin’s dramatic flair and need for recognition.
Alice chuckled, raising her empty tea cup as if toasting the dramatic display. He practically invented the art of dramatic exits. I swear, if there were an award for Most Attention Seeking Exits, Rumple would win every year."
Loki leaned back, draping his arm over the back of his chair. "He’s like that one friend who always needs to be the center of attention. You know, the one who can’t handle it when someone else gets a little spotlight. The minute we start having fun, he starts lecturing us and poof, he’s outta here, making it all about him."
Alice nodded, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, absolutely. And let’s be real, he’ll be back. Probably tomorrow, maybe even later today, as if it never even happened."
Alice tilted her head, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should start taking bets on how long it’ll take him to pop back in. I’m giving it… twelve hours before he’s back with a fresh batch of sarcasm and a new ‘woe is me’ monologue."
Loki grinned. "I’ll take ten. He can’t stay away for long. He lives for this stuff."
They both burst into laughter, shaking their heads at the predictability of their dramatic friend.
Alice lifted her cup again, this time in a mock toast to Rumplestiltskin’s inevitable return. "To Rumple, the king of exits and re-entrances. Here’s to seeing him again sooner rather than later."
Loki raised an invisible glass in agreement. "To Rumple, because who else would make our lives this entertaining?"
Suddenly, two interns and a few other staff members stood up, raising their own invisible glasses. In unison, they chimed in, "Salute!"
The whole room erupted into laughter as everyone pretended to drink to the toast, clinking their imaginary glasses in the air. The sound of their collective amusement filled the studio, the perfect echo to Rumplestiltskin’s dramatic exit and the end of this story.
