Wyll Wyldclay

Wyll Wyldclay

Postby Wyll Wyldclay » Mon Jul 17, 2023 2:40 am

Name: Wyll Wyldclay
DOB: Unknown
Age: Physically, typically between two to six weeks. Mentally, several centuries (See psychological profile [#HOB-1981])
Nationality: ...Welsh.
Classification: Fae
Height: Variable
Weight: Variable

Qualifications:
Fluent in English, Scots, Breton, Manx, Gaelic, Celtiberian...
Resilient to most external stimuli (see lab reports [#HOB-1984])
A surprising instinctive understanding of artifacts and machinery, regardless of initial origin.

Curriculum Vitae:
Specific information on Wyll Wyldclay is hard to come by.

In part, this is because Wyll enjoys giving a different version of his backstory whenever asked. In part, this is because magnetic tape records and other electronic data storage of Wyll's personal information tends to degrade over time, regardless of any attempts at preservation.

--ARCHIVISTS NOTE--
--Hence why this is written out longhand by a bloody quill of all things. The sooner Chasovnya figures out how to affix the little brat to something more permanent, the better off we'll all be.


What can be ascertained for certain:
  • Wyll has been with the Agency for some time. To a one, anyone asked about Wyll will remember them here from the day they first arrived. No record of their entry into the program has ever been found, to which they have no end of excuses (see report [#HOB-0234])
  • References to Wyllym Wyldclay exist as far back as the 1600s, in context that make it clear that this was a reference already familiar to the reader. Whether it's referring to a specific entity or to some sort of extended domain of creature is unclear. Wyll has been particularly unhelpful in that regard.
  • Wyll's knowledge of mythology, the arts, folklore and folk wisdom is extensive and detailed.

Personality Profile:
Wyll is friendly to a fault, with little care for personal space or boundaries.

Those who enjoy their company say that a kinder, gentler soul you will never meet; that he is always willing and eager to lend a hand with whatever problem they may be facing, no matter how big or how small.

Those who do not enjoy their company say that Wyll is a creep and a menace and should be locked in cages with the other subjects deep in the subbasement. Wyll does not seem to be phased by this, and treats even the most disgruntled as dear, close and personal friends.

The Weird:
Where to begin.

Wyll is some manner of trickster shapeshifter. The form they choose to present to the Agency bares as little relation to their actual form as any other; it is merely a glamour they chose to wear on a day-to-day basis. Very few limits have been found to the forms Will can take, despite repeated attempts to determine the extent of their abilities and repeated experiments, both willing and unwilling.

However, as a mythological creature of some description, Wyll (chooses to? is forced to?) obey certain rules. They seemingly can not turn down a request or command, no matter how absurd. They have significant description and leeway into how to interpret, time and act on said requests, but the request itself must be acted upon. Hence, Wyll is generally not a frontline member of the Agency except when his skillset outweighs the dangers of having him on the loose. Wyll expects just recompense for acting upon these requests and commands, and those who find themselves taking advantage of him will find themselves the plaything of a shapeshifter with an eye for mischief and self-fulfillment.

Wyll's technical role in the Agency is as one of the grunts -- the somewhat expendable interns who are tasked with directly investigating the strange and mysterious objects and creatures the Agency comes across on a regular basis. Aiding him in this task is a remarkable regenerative property. If Wyll is ever damaged beyond repair, within 2-6 hours they will be spotted walking around the Agency as if nothing had happened, nary a scratch to be found. Reports suggest this has something to do with the pool inside their private chambers; a place they do not allow people if they can help it.

Other personnel have been warned in the past about taking advantage of Wyll's recuperative powers; anyone found feeding him to the displacer beasts again or stringing him up for target practice will receive a demerit in their personnel file.
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Re: Wyll Wyldclay

Postby Wyll Wyldclay » Mon Jul 17, 2023 2:42 am

Attached is one of the earliest references found to Wyll Wyldclay, a 17h century jig of uncertain provenance (though an analysis of the writing style suggests Ben Jonson as a potential author)

From Oberon in fairyland, the king of strange and queer
A fellow stands at his command to view the night sports here
To pleasures found and revel abound, to all that's fair and gay
We sing you of the story of the Wylyam Wyldclay!

More swift than lightning can he fly and dance upon the breeze
Disgused as the wind and rocks and field and branch and trees
Your secrets wide you'll try and hide but you will soon betray
Your darkest waking hours to the Wylyam Wyldclay!

From Oberon on elven throne, he's granted one lone skill
To turn himself into what shapes he thinks upon or wills
And he translates his fairy state into all he surveys
Form merely follows function for the Wylyam Wyldclay!

If any wanderers he meets on winding paths back home
With counterfiting voice he greets and causes them to roam
Through woods, though lakes, through bogs and brakes he'll lead them on their way
For they're just another plaything to the Wylyam Wyldclay!

Sometimes he meets them as a man, sometimes an ox or hound
And into a horse he can transform to trip and trot them round
But if to ride his back they stride, they'll find to their dismay
That it takes uncommon cunning to tame Wylyam Wyldclay!

When lads and lasses merry be, dressed in their good and fine
Unseen of all their company, he eats their cakes and wine
When they come home they're not alone, for he shall not away
For deep in their abode there lies the Wylyam Wyldclay!

Yet now and then, with want to please, the Hob will do your task
Your malt to grind, your flax to pull, he shall do what you ask
With fingers spry and careful eye he'll toil through the day
But remember now you're in the debt of Wylyam Wyldclay!

No pile of gold wants the Hob nor crowns of golden fine
All the Hob will really ask for is a moment of your time
And if you're wise you'll shun surprise and quite readily pay
To balance in the bankbooks of the Wylyam Wyldclay!

To lonesome lads she shall appear, coquettish arch and coy
To maidens as a strapping lad, to children as a toy
You must but ask and to the task he'll leap without delay
The noble brave and rightous love the Wylyam Wyldclay!

When any need to borrow ought, he lends what they require
And for the use demandeth not but what he doth desire
If to repay they doth delay, then know that come what may
That night by night they'll feel the bite of Wylyam Wyldclay!

In several shapes he'll gull the wicked, the knavish through and through
He'll hide and wait where they would lie and pinch them black and blue
Their food to waste, their home defaced, they'll shout and scream and bray
But no mortal man alive can best the Wylyam Wyldclay!

And if they lie in wait and sieze him with cunning or with traps
And grind his bones to powder and to feed the pigs his scraps
Their victory sweet, we must repeat, will but for a moment stay
From deep in bog arises one more Wylyam Wyldclay!

Some call him Robin Goodfellow, hobgoblin or mad Crisp.
And some again to call him oft the Wylyam of the Wispe
Be he friend or pain or just insane your bard can not quite say
But the world would be less joyful without Wylyam Wyldclay!
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