Where the World Ends and I Begin
Sunday, 24 January 2010
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IMO: Ten Best Albums of the Decade
(10 Being least favorite, 1 being my favorite)
10: "Systematic Chaos" by "Dream Theater"
9: "The Heart of Everything" by "Within Temptation"
8: "Spirit Black" by "Jorn"
7: "Judgement" by "VnV Nation"
6: "Cartographer" by "E.S. Posthumus"
5: "Holographic Universe" by "Scar Symmetry"
4: "Fallen Sanctuary" by "Serenity"
3: "Ten Thousand Fists" by "Disturbed"
2: "Milliontown" by "FROST*"
1: "01011001" by "Ayreon"
I'll take a moment to say why "01011001" is, in my opinion, the greatest work of musical art in the last ten years. The album is the last in the chain of genius songwriter/musician Arjen A. Lucassen's "Ayreon" concept album series. Now, I personally believe that Arjen is the greatest songwriter alive at the moment. The album has not one singer, not two, not three(I won't count all the way up to it), but seventeen singers, ten of which are the lead vocalists. These are some of the greatest vocal talents around today.
The album's titles is the binary representation of the decimal number 89, and the hexadecimal number 59; it is the ASCII codepoint for the letter Y.
The album is about an ancient alien race called the Forever, it details their side of the story through all the albums. They have lost all their emotion to over-mechanization and, in an attempt to regain them, they seed a distant planet with their DNA: Earth. They give Humans feelings, science, reason, art, insight, wisdom, language, and dreams. And then they watch in horror as we corrupt these gifts and begin to quickly destroy ourselves. Humanity dies in the year 2085, after failed attempts by the Forever to help us, when a nuclear war destroys the planet, and leaves the Mars colony to die.
The album ends with the Forever begging a being called "the Universal Migrator", which gave life to the universe, to restore their lives. Later, an album called "Timeline" with songs from each of the albums in it quickly telling the story of the "Ayreon" concept, is released. The album ended with a song, which ends the whole story, called "Epilogie: the Memory Remains", where the Migrator is speaking to the soul of the last Mars Colonist, the last Human, turning him into the New Migrator and telling him to go to the planet Y, the Forever homeworld, and restore them. The song ends with the iconic Ayreon line, "Remember . . Forever."
Thursday, 07 January 2010
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Currently
Innocence & Instinct (CD/DVD)
By Red
Take It All Away
see relatedHollow - Pt. 5 of the Chronicles of the Forsaken
Emotion is a natural part of life.
For humans, they come as naturally as breathing. It is one of the ways humans were made in God's “image”. Free will, thought, feelings. Everything humans do is tied to how they feel, or how they react when those feelings change. They can be wrapped up in emotion, or not feel at all. Some people have no control over their emotion, and they can be very dangerous.
Unlike humans, emotion does come to naturally to me. I . . prefer not to feel. It can influence – impair is a better word – my judgment so that I make poor decisions. So I block them out most of the time, though not all the time. Emotion can be fleeting. It can bring joy, or crush you utterly. Such a simple, seemingly harmless aspect of life is actually what makes humans dangerous.
Their unpredictable emotions.
Joy. A warm, safe feeling. A sense of contentment. A wave of happiness. It is one of the better aspects of the human psyche. It makes it easier to . . stand – for lack of a better word – people. When you feel joy, normally that means that you don't want to hurt someone. Unless you're a homicidal psychopath.
Sorrow. Loss. Cold. An empty, shallow depth that swallows you. Devours you. The second most destructive emotion. A cascading, frigid waterfall of doom. The rocks below dash you to pieces and carry you on, down the river Styx to, well, death. The end. Me. Sorrow is one of the most unpredictable emotions. It can stem from so many things. Sorrow can make you kill. It is where grief is born, the one emotion I see most of the time whenever someone dies. The living grieve, mourn, the dead. I suppose it can be healthy, but not in excess. Sorrow can lead to depression. Depression is like, well, Tartarus. A deep, dark bottomless pit that, once you fall into it, it is nearly impossible to stop the descent. Depression can ultimately result in suicide. Also, sorrow is the one emotion I'm most familiar with.
Hurt. Another branch-off of sorrow. Quick to pass, easy to feel. It stems from so much of life. Those that are too wrapped up in their emotion can be devastated by it. It can eat away at people, until it finally evolves into sorrow.
Rage. Anger. Hatred. This is considered the most dangerous and the most unpredictable of all emotions. It fuels killer, turns the sensible irrational. It is the emotion I hate the most. People who are abusive feel a cocktail of both rage and sorrow. I, personally, fear rage. I have the power to kill everyone on Earth, and no human could stop me. I feel it often, seconded only by sorrow. I see atrocities, but I always struggle not to act on the rage that fills me at such sights. For my vengeance would be unspeakable. I shy away from it. Keep it at bay. It is somewhat difficult. After all, it is considered to be the most powerful emotion.
Fear. The most basic human emotion. It is what one feels in desperation. A wild, sometimes violent, panic. It is the will, the need, to survive heightened tenfold. I have felt it, and I do not care for it. Humans, who have grown soft over time, now fear things which the ancient civilizations would find natural, not frightening at all.
These are only the most basic of the emotions. They are the most common, and some the most dangerous. Emotion was meant to be a blessing. It was a gift to humanity. Now it is a curse. A weapon. Demons use emotion against humans. They manipulate feelings and use them to drag you down. This brings me to one last emotion. It is . . mysterious, at best.
Love. In a way, it is both the most dangerous and most powerful emotion. So many other feelings are connected to love. It is the greatest gift of emotion given to humanity. It is was God felt, feels, for his children. His reason for making them. I know what love it. I have seen its affects. The sheer emotional attachment it can create. It can be fleeting, or it can last forever. It is truly unpredictable. Its rise and ebb flowing in syn with the beating of hearts and the passage, the flow, of time.
And I have never felt it.
Love is the only emotion I have never felt. Mighty Azrael has yet to feel the greatest emotion. In truth, I am somewhat glad. Love above all other things can inhibit judgment. It is blinding, confusing, and poisonous at times. It can be beautiful or destructive.
I do feel emotion, beside popular belief. Though I do so reluctantly in many of the cases. Although I do know what love is, I understand it, I know its side affects, I've never felt it myself. But, in a way, I want to. At least once, I wish I could feel it, though it still frightens me. I may have free will, in a sense. I may have emotion. In the end, though, I am merely a shell. A vessel, a crucible, for a greater, malevolent force.
In the end, I am hollow. -
Currently
Innocence & Instinct (CD/DVD)
By Red
see relatedAngel of Death - Pt. 4 of the Chronicles of the Forsaken
I try not to kill.
If you've ever watched the movie Final Destination, you would find me a murderer. Another example of a malevolent Death. I normally take people after they die, or set the events of their deaths in motion. But I try not to actually kill people. But it isn't easy. Even Death feels anger.
This thought takes me back to the first time I ever had to actually kill. It was in Egypt. This was where I earned the name Angel of Death. As well as “the Destroyer” and “the Destroying Angel”. I wonder if this was also where my name Azrael originated. Azrael being a mythological archangel of Death residing in the Third Heaven, as well as being the embodiment of evil.
Yes, I do have lovely names, don't I?
Anyway, the time I was orchestrated the most was in Egypt. You may all know the story, I should hope you do. I was the greatest plague. I was the breaking point. And I still look back on the memory with partial disgust.
Humans are powerless against me. Simple fact. Ignoring popular myth and urban legend, I cannot be cheated. I cannot be bribed, tricked, nothing can forestall your end. Simple rule of the world. God knows when you go. And when you do, if need be, I'll come for you.
I remember . . .
I watched the chosen people suffering for so long in the hands of one of the greatest empires the world has ever known. The Egyptians are legendary, as they should be. The first true world power. And I was part of their destruction.
I heard the order on the wind. A powerful whisper that echoed within the confines of time. I knew what it was. I had been watching as the Heavenly Father reigned destruction on the Egyptians, turning their own pagan religion against them. I watched as the greatest false deities they worshiped were sent upon them with holy wrath.
And now, I, Death, in their religion Anubis and Osiris, would come for them. Instructions spoke to me in breaths with the breeze. I melted to my original form. Empty, hollow, frozen black. The cold claw of doom.
I was still invisible, though, and I rose up and soared slowly through the air. A cloud of destruction. I hovered above the massive city for a moment, observing the silence. I could feel the blood on the doors, and I knew that those were to be left alone.
The rest I pitied.
Without another thought I fell.
I swept silently into the streets, like a hunter I felt for the unprotected first-born. I moved mercilessly, carrying out my dark deed. The first person I killed . . the feeling was so foreign to me. I actually ended a life. A sanctioned murderer. An omnipresent force in the world, I now acted with near reckless abandon.
I destroyed the ties of all those who would not heed warning, I ended their union with this world. Effectively damning them all. I could feel them growing cold. Like I was a great wind descending over thousands of candles. And when I had passed, thousands of those lights had been snuffed out.
How cruel, how cold, I had become in that moment. I knew it was part of the Lord's plan, therefore it could not be questioned nor denied, but it still troubled me all the same. Looking back now, I had become what popular horror culture now depicts me as: A mindless, destructive entity with only the drive to kill and to end.
I was a great wave, an invisible tsunami. I crushed all that stood defenseless before me. I had truly become a force of nature. A great, natural cataclysm that suddenly turned unnatural.
I could hear their souls screaming as they came out of their bodies. Some passed almost instantly, but all those that lingered for even a moment cried out to their gods when they saw what I was: The black cloud. A wispy, shadowy nightmare. But all too real.
Finally, when it was over, I traveled with the wind far out into the desert and returned to a humanoid state. Feeling overly horrified by my actions, I collapsed. I lay staring at the sky, then unobstructed by pollution and artificial light, and thought over what I had done.
The twinkling stars far above reminded me of all the people I had killed. I could still hear their screams. I could still feel their lives shattering, their souls breaking free. I think that was when I really changed for the first time. Up until that point, I had prayed often for the souls of the deceased, though I'm sure they meant little. I had valued every life. I saw every breath taken, the beat of every heart, as sacred.
But at that moment I began to see life as trivial. So easily ended. How frail human ties to time and Earth were. How utterly meaningless they all seemed. I looked at human existence and wondered: What was so incredible? They were so weak. So easily killed. When the life of one ended, how often was its impact that great? Truly that important?
Life lost its luster, to say the least.
In the grand scheme of things, I didn't see how humans could matter. They were nothing. Just a waste of an existence. After killing so many, life lost its value. I didn't see the point in worrying over them anymore.
That was when I stopped praying. That was when I began to stop wondering. That was when I stopped caring. And after thousands of years of seeing it happen over and over again, I began to question even the need for Azrael, the infamous Angel of Death.
Wednesday, 06 January 2010
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Currently
Innocence & Instinct (CD/DVD)
By Red
Take It All Away
see relatedDemonic Influence - Pt. 3 of the Chronicles of the Forsaken
The taste is strange to me. It's hard to get used to modern food and drink. I first took full human form before the Flood, when the world was pure and perfect.
Now everything tastes like chemicals.
I look over the cup of coffee before setting it down with a grimace. It's nine-thirty in the morning. The sun is gentle, barely warm against the skin. The breeze is cool, not too cold. The sky is blue, wispy clouds pass lazily overhead.
Even Death is allowed a break.
If I had an urgent task, I would know it. But today, all I feel is the world around me. People can see me now, I'm not hiding like I am when I'm after a soul.
I take a deep breath. Cool air rushes through my nostrils. It feels like pollutants, but I ignore it. Humans adapt quickly to their environment. Most can't sense the subtle changes in nature. But the thousands-of-years-old Angel of Death can.
Lucky me.
My eyes wander over the people milling about. Talking on cell phones, texting, listening to music on iPods and other MP3 devices. All careless and oblivious to the war around them. Well, not really war per say. I see television shows and movies where a war between Heaven and Hell means that humans with powers, angels, and demons fight openly and constantly.
All I can do is shake my head and give it to the demons, they really have twisted mankind's view of the truth. Because the real war hasn't begun yet, and I'm not looking forward to Armageddon. Well, half not looking forward to it.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost don't see the man who sits down at the painted black wire table with me in front of the Starbucks. I cast him a glance and almost dismiss him. He looks normal. Brown hair, green eyes, gray t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers.
But he's not human. In fact I doubt anyone around us can seen him.
“Do you have a reason to be here, or are you simply looking for a target?” I ask.
The demon shakes his head, “Just looking over the fruits of our labors.”
“Pretty spoiled fruit if you ask me.” I say, sipping from my cup.
He shrugs, “Isn't that the point?”
“Prove that God's creations can be warped beyond recognition? Close, but you're not there yet.”
“And we never will get there. But we try.”
“Why fight a lost battle?” I ask. “It's hopeless. You all know the Bible, so why keep fighting?”
“Defiance.” he says. Most of them do. They know they're going to lose. They just fight out of spite. They fear and hate God, they hate Satan, and they take it out on the most vulnerable options left. That, of course, is only half the story. A piece of the puzzle. I've delved into it too many times. It always leaves me with the equivalent of a headache since I can't actually get one.
“And satisfaction.” I say grimly. “You like seeing humans suffer. You enjoy turning them into suicidal, psychopathic, sociopath serial killers.”
He nods, “Personally, I like a good suicide. I tell them that they're worthless, make them think no one cares about them. In some cases I can get them to drive people off. I tear them down, leave nothing left. Sure, serial killers are nice, but what's sweeter than making someone think that the only release is to kill themselves? Only in truth they're committing a sin they'll never be able to repent for. And then the destruction it inflicts on their family and friends! That is if they have any left.”
“It's sad.” I murmur. “The greatest of all angels became the Prince of Darkness, and one-third of the angels followed him.” I turn to face the demon. “Why?”
“The promise of power blinds many. It is one of our greatest tools to ruin the world. It blinded us as well. And we pay the price. But we live with it, happy that we can at least do something while waiting for the end.”
“You lead such a pitiful existence.”
He cocks an eyebrow, “And you don't?” he laughs. “You take trapped souls. That's what you'll do for eternity. We can influence world leaders. Hitler was our greatest success to date in that category! And most of the people you take will spend eternity in darkness!” he leans closer to me. “How does that make you feel?”
I stare him in the eye, and for a moment say nothing. When I finally have an answer, I say, “It makes me feel like the vacuum cleaner of this world. But now I really know just how good you are at your job.”
“Thousands of years of backseat serial killing can do that to you.” he says. He stands up and looks around, “Breaks over.” his eyes linger on a single man. I turn and watch him. The man is dressed in a suit and talking on a cell phone. “Daddy's not going home today.” the demon mutters. He walks across the outside patio of the Starbucks. I take the final sip of my coffee and throw it into a nearby trashcan without getting up. Some idiot applauds the throw, I ignore him.
The demon walks through tables, people, and cars as he crosses the street to the man. He begins to speak, but I can only fathom as to what he is saying.
The man hangs up the phone and stares at it before slowly putting it into his pocket. The demon is now speaking with a vehement fury. I lean forward in my chair, entranced and horrified as I feel myself suddenly drawn to the man.
“Father, please have mercy on his soul.” I breath. The man drops his briefcase and waits as an exceptionally fast car approaches. The light is green, it does not slow. The man doesn't even think about it. As soon as it's close enough he jumps.
The car slams into him, crushing him. He dies on impact. I shake my head and stand and make my way to where the car has now stopped. The driver is a man. He is standing outside the car, hand over his mouth, eyes wide. His wife is still in the car, she's crying.
I'm invisible to them now. My shape melts slowly to that of the soul collector dressed in ebony. I stop by the body and look up when I hear a pronounced voice.
“So easy. He was talking to his wife and children. He calls them everyday during lunch. I've whittled away at him for months now. Taking it slowly, watching him fall apart. No one else saw it, I managed to have him mask it so cleverly.” the demon kneels down beside the body and tilts his head to the side. “Two-and-a-half months for one moment.” his eyes turn up to me, they're burning with a wicked glee. “But it is always so worth it.” he stands and with a final look at the body he turns and starts to walk away, “Now it's time for you to go to work, vacuum.”
I watch him leave and look down at the man. I draw his soul to me and watch as it appears, “Dalton McPherson,” I say, the name appearing in my head, he jumps and turns around, eyes wide, “your time on this Earth has ended. Your soul has forsaken its fragile shell. You will now come with me to your final judgment.” the words flow from my mouth, having become second nature a long time ago.
I turn and start walking, feeling him being pulled along behind me. They can't run, not like in the movies. I feel the fabric of reality fraying around the two of us as we transcend time, and I lead him through the black haze to take his first, and possibly final, steps into eternity. -
Currently
Innocence & Instinct (CD/DVD)
By Red
Take It All Away
see relatedOrigins of the End - Pt. 2 of the Chronicles of the Forsaken
If you know my origin, you may better understand me.
Death was not meant to be. I was, I am, a consequence. Never orchestrated until after the Fall of Man. If Adam and Eve had never taken of the tree, I would not exist.
Am I an angel? Well, I have been called the “Angel of Death”, but am I an actual angel? I'm not entirely sure. In all actuality, I doubt it. I can see angels and demons. Angels are rare, but the demonic hosts of Earth are abundant. They whisper to humans, lie to them. Guide them down a path of self destruction.
And I can't do anything about it.
At least, I don't think I can. I've never tried. Anyway, back to the original subject, Death was never intended. I am a punishment. Man sinned, and so I am here. Although, I have no idea why I'm a sentient entity. A force with a mind. Death is a fact of life. I am not everywhere at once, and there is but one of me.
I am the guide of the forsaken.
The Ferryman is another name of mine. I guide the trapped souls into the light. I bring them through the thick veil of shadow to their final judgment in eternity. A grim duty, that of course sheds light on another name of mine, but it is necessary. Even if I am a fact of life, I have become a source for legends, horror stories, cults, and more throughout history.
As you already know, some of my names are the Fiddler, the Ferryman, the Angel of Death, and, of course, the Grim Reaper. In some cultures I am synonymous with “Father Time”. I guess it is because time eventually does away with all things. “Cronus” from Greek mythology is connected with both Father Time and myself.
But, as to my origin, I am a result, as I have said, of the Fall. It was not until Satan took the shape of the serpent and enticed Eve to take of the tree before passing it to Adam that I was needed.
Death is an icy chill. If I so will it, my touch will feel like being dipped into water colder than any of Earth. When I came to be, I felt that cold. Like it was filling an empty space, it filled me up and gave me form. Well, almost. I was shapeless shadow. A misty darkness. I had not seen humans before, so it wasn't until then that my current true nature came to be.
I was merely innocence and instinct. Knowing nothing of evil and only the task that was mine: The reaping of souls. I was surrounded by darkness. The place in between Earth and eternity. Where only the dead can go when they pass on to their reward. Or their punishment.
I was suddenly engulfed in light. A bright, burning, holy light. I was filled with the knowledge of the world, of the Fall, of Satan, the demons, angels, and God. But very little about myself. All I knew was my purpose, nothing more. I was then thrust into the world.
I could see the garden. It was, and still is, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. As I watched, I saw the first two beings thrust out of the garden, and a great and fearsome being of light appeared before the garden. In its hand was a sword covered in flames so great that they could eat through any mortal substance.
Around me, demons were laughing and cheering. The path had been opened. Man, the Father's favorite creation, had been corrupted. And now the war could begin.
I have lived amongst humans to try and see the supposed joy of their lives is. All I can feel, though, is sickness as I watch through the ages. I have seen religion corrupted and weakened. Oppressed and destroyed. Christians becoming weaker throughout the span of time.
I remember when I had to take my first soul. The accursed Cain. The first murderer. I felt such evil and hate in his being. Of course, back then no one knew what to make of an eight-foot tall skeleton robed in black. All those who see me are dead, though some actually don't know it yet. Even in modern times some still scream and cry. They plea and beg.
I stopped trying to comfort them a long time ago. -
Currently
Innocence & Instinct (CD/DVD)
By Red
Take It All Away
see relatedthe Reaper - Pt. 1 of the Chronicles of the Forsaken
I've always hated hospitals.
Everything is too bright. A vain attempt to make patients more cheerful. Cold, but that's never bothered me. The smell of medicine and cleaning supplies omnipresent. I guess what's always gotten to me more than anything is else is the feeling one gets in a hospital.
It feels like me.
People can see me. Almost. I'm the movement in the corner of one's eye, but when they look there's no one there. People shiver in me presence, fear my name. I'm known by some as the Fiddler. I'm one of the oldest forces in the world. Have you guessed yet? I'm Death. The so called “Grim Reaper”. I'm the stuff of legends and horror films.
A nurse walking through me tears me from my thoughts. It never ceases to upset me. Or maybe unnerve is the better word. I look around slowly, feeling the death around me. Ironic, isn't it? Some souls, most, can pass to their judgment without assistance. However, some cannot. Most of the time emotional attachments root them to this Earth. That's where I come in.
Feeling the pull of the dying person, I turn a corner and ascend a flight of stairs to the next level. I know who I'm looking for. It's a girl named Clear. Fourteen years old and dying. I hate drunk drivers. I've had to take more people than I care to think about because of them. Everyone has their time, unfortunately her time is now.
I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn. A man is leaning on a wall and looking straight at me. I frown and motion for him to come to me. Living or dead, if I summon someone they are powerless against me. He rolls his eyes as he walks over to me. His name is Matthias. He's been dead for fifty-three years, but I've granted him reprieve. He is useful, if I can't come here quick enough he comforts the dead. Explains to them what is to happen.
“She's in there.” he says, pointing to a room at the end of the hall. “She's still alive, but not for long. She's far enough over to see me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I prefer a human form to my true nature. “Did you wave to her?”
“Yeah.”
I glare at him, “You need to stop doing that. You're not completely corporeal to her yet. All she saw was a see-through man waving at her. Probably scared her half to-”
“You?”
I don't reply immediately, instead I just grunt and push past him. My touch sends a sharp wave of cold through his body. “Thanks!” he groans. I move slowly towards Clear's room. I can feel the life force of humans, and hers is very weak. To compare it to Greek mythology, the Fates are about to cut her thread. I can feel another person in the room and slow to a stop outside the door. A man, her father, is sitting in a chair by the bed. His hair is thinning and his beard reaches from his sideburns to his chin, connecting with his mustache. Clear is pale, her eyes sunken and dark, her body smashed. It is evident that she was once beautiful, but that beauty is now gone. It is rare for me to truly feel for those I take, but I feel a slight ache at the sight.
The father is trying not to cry, I can tell. His eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep and crying earlier. Now that she's awake he's trying to look hopeful. And he's failing miserably. He's trying to cheer her up. His words are sweet, loving. He's telling her to be strong. Saying that she'll make it. How ironic. How sad. A doctor walks through me, startling me. I never get used to that, and I doubt I ever will.
He whispers to the father and with a last look at his daughter he follows the doctor out. Once they're gone, Clear closes her eyes, oblivious to my presence. To the unholy aura of my name. I step slowly into the room, my footsteps silent against the stark tile. I stop beside her bed and sigh.
Her eyes snap open and dart around the room before settling uncertainly on me. “I'm real.” I say. She shivers and nods. She's guessed. It isn't rare for someone to know me, but it doesn't happen too often. “It was a trick of light.” I say. “It turned red into green. Your mother didn't see the driver that hit you. And he was too drunk to see anything.”
Clear swallows, “You're Death?” she asks shakily, voice barely a whisper. I nod and a tear rolls down her cheek.
“There's no need to be scared.” I assure her, lying through my teeth. Depending on her judgment she might have to be.
She shakes her head, “I'm not scared . . it h-hurts.” she whimpers, gritting her teeth.
“It will all be over soon.” I say softly. “Just take my hand, and your pain will go away.”
She takes a shuddered breath, “Okay.” her hand opens slowly. As I go to take it her eyes light up, “My mother?” she asks fearfully.
“She'll live. You took most of the hit, I'm afraid.” I say, feeling her slipping. I gently take her hand in mine and take a deep breath. “Clear Dawson, your time is at an end. Your soul will forsake this fragile shell. You will then come with me to your final judgment.” I say, feeling like a cop reciting rights. Her breath catches and her eyes go wide as the machines around us alert the doctors of internal failure. They rush into the room and try to save her. At least they try.
I step back, and her hand slips through mine like I was mist. Suddenly she's beside me, watching the scene unfold. I feel my form fading to my true nature. She looks at me, eyes wide and whispers, “I'm dead.” her voice is hoarse and her eyes start to water.
I nod, “So am I.” I turn and start for the door, robe trailing behind me. Clear follows, unable to resist even as she looks back to watch the doctors finally give up. She's attached to me, soul a prisoner of death.
She tries to catch up to me, “Where are we going?” she asks.
“If your lucky, home.” I say, feeling envious of those who had such a fate. Hating that I was forever stuck as the one who took the living. I offer my hand and she takes it slowly, not minding that it is bleached bone.
After thousands of years of doing this, I've stopped caring. I rarely feel for those who die. I stop wondering where they go, what their ultimate fate is. I stopped praying for them long ago. But there is the rare case, like with Clear, where I actually feel something for them. Like it isn't right for them to die so young. I can't help but hope she's one of the lucky ones. That she was raised to believe and to follow. Redemption ends at death. I can't remember the number of times I've had to say it was too late. Ultimately, though, she's just one more to fall prey to the Fiddler's tune. Just one more victim of the Reaper.
Thursday, 16 April 2009
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Currently
Final Fantasy X-2: Theme
By Original Game Soundtrack
Their Resting Place
see relatedthe Rising: Dimming the Lights
The long, empty road swallowed the passing civilians. No one could have seen it coming. No one noticed it. A tiny gust at first. Just enough to stir the leaves. Then small sticks and rocks began to lift off the ground. All sucked into the vortex slowly building power. People were confused, curious, and frightened. Some stayed to record the anomaly, the wiser fled. Without warning, in a sudden boost of power, the vortex sucked in the living. Screaming could be heard for miles as innocent civilians were carried away into the now large sphere of earth and wind. And still it grew, feeding off the earth. Pushing the boundary to gain its freedom. Trying to burrow beneath the Wall.
The guardians watched hopelessly. Out of them, none could hope to take on whatever was pulling itself slowly into the mortal world. They could feel the Wall resisting, and prayed that that ancient barrier would hold and keep the enemy at bay. At least until the Great Ones were awake. Their broken slumber would cause the earth to tremble, and give the guardians strength. But for now, the fight was hopeless. The military had arrived and was observing the vortex.
They watched and monitered. All useless attempts to try and explain what was unfolding before them. An Older One was coming. And the mortals would be the first to die. They shook their heads as the scientists tried to explain on television what sort of strange galactic phenomenon was taking place. The guardians scoffed. They had always been ignorant. Tel'Karda, they knew, was waiting until a large enough gap had been formed. Then the earth would trully be in peril.
The guardians flinched when dark lines appeared in the vortex. The barrier was giving. They could see the outline forming. A nightmare was coming. And soon, it would shatter the world. They all felt it. A great weight that pressed in on them. Forcing them back, keeping them at bay for the opening. The only time they could push it back across the Wall. It was finally here. The darkness made flesh. As the vortex began to tear, it almost seemed as if the mortals knew what was coming. They stopped their speeches and their studies to watch as the anomaly tore itself to peices. Then, in a final attempt to breech the barrier, an immense shockwave slammed into the earth. The trees were obliterated, the humans strewn across the fields. The barrier had been torn asunder.
It stepped out slowly. Carefully taking its steps into the mortal realm. It took a deep breath and its new body came to life. It was a great tower. Solid dark. Shadow coalesced into physical being. It stretched out. A great wave that crushed the world. It swept over three miles of land and began it assault. Great bolts of black fire shot like lightning from beneath it. Like the deadliest hurricane ever known to man it slowly began to shred mortal civilization. Great tornadoes of shadow devoured buildings to fuel the juggernaut's rampage. It roared over the land. Its terrible moan beating the planet, destroying what the humans were so wrongly given. It sucked the light away, blinding its victims. This one Older could do nothing serious, but it did dim the light.
The last vestiges of what had watched the vortex were gone. The guardinas had tried to fight, but the numbers of lesser beings that unfolded and dropped from the Older One were far too many. It was hopeless for them, but they never stopped trying.
. - ._. - .
The Older One fed and fed. Filling itself. It would take a long whilet o be content that it was ready. It was still fairly weakened. A journey across the Wall into that strange world that it had only been to once before. It felt the excitment that came with the thought of their returning dominion. They would ravage this world and cast the Great Ones into oblivion. It felt that the guardians beneath it were finally dealt with and settled itself over a select area and began to feed. The very matter of that world became its fuel. For a short while it remained conetent. Relaxed and calm. Then it felt the quake.
A great shudder as the world breathed out. With that breath came something that it had not anticipated. At least not for some time. The world released its first defense. And with a feeling of anxiety, the cloud gathered itself and all of its gathered strength. It continued to feed, but remained vigilent for its enemy. What it didn't expect was where the enmey was. Especially once the Great One rose up directly beneath it.
The battle had begun . . .
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the Foresworn: It's Only Rock, Paper, Scissors
The air burned all around me. The city of San Francisco used to be an immense city, now it was the equivalent of a bonfire. Rubble and burning buildings scattered. The dead barbecuing in the streets. My head turned, my eyes almost unwilling to follow. My right foot on the ground, my left leg holding me up as I knelt. As the world swirled and bent in slow motion Dirge walked through the hell and lifted my sword. The fire illuminated the blood-stained blade. My face twisted as I stood. I reached down and pulled the small blade from my left leg. A last, desperate attempt by a half-dead eclipse soldier. I tossed it towards Dirge.
"I would thank you for the sword, but I don't guess that you especially want me to have it." he grinned and twirled the sword in a wide upwards arc. "Very balanced. I can see why you would want it." he smiled and held the blade over a fire. The dried blood began to melt away. "How much of this, do you think, is now from your own kind?"
"Shut it, Dirge." I spat. I clenched my teeth and took a hesitant step to the right. It didn't hurt so much anymore. Dirge ran a hand through his hair and looked around him. My eyes stayed on the sword, which was pointed right at me.
"What do you think of the city now, Rigel? Now that we have purged it?"
"You mean detroyed it." I muttered.
"Two sides of the coin, Rigel, two sides."
"You're one side short then, Dirge."
"Very good, at least your sardonic sense of humor hasn't gone up in flames yet. But no," he hung his head, "this city was filled with people who werr, well, evil. The things that they did defied every law that our ancestors put in place."
"They were still mortals. The law also said to leave them alone." Dirge opened his motuh to speak, but before he did I dodged to the right. Dirge rushed me. I jumped through a burning wall, the ash and sparks rained onto Dirge. I landed on my left foot and, ignoring the pain, twisted around. My foot connected with the center of his back. Dirge gasped and dropped the sword. He landed on his knees and pushed up. A rushed of shadow alerted me. I balanced myself on the balls of my feet. A second Dirge had appeared.
"Damn!" I stood and stepped back. The sword was now halfway between us. Dirge grimaced and took a hesitant step forward. I remained still. He smiled and stepped back.
"Why haven't you used your Gemini yet, Rigel? Do you wish to die. You would just be another Foresworn. Just one more of the hundreds of your kind I have killed." he spoke maliciously, in a tone that no one else could speak. Truth was, using the Gemnini sapped strength. I had to be very careful about when I did use it. I grinned and rushed for the sword. Dirge took a second to realize this and set off a second late, both of them. As we neared the sword both Dirges were struck by something. The real one was tackled, the other was tripped. I grabbed the sword and sprang back. Dirge wrestled himself free from my other self and his copy was back on its feet. My copy had slipped away.
"Clever, Rigel." he growled. All false tones gone. "But now it's time for the parlor tricks to stop." Dirge pulled a dagger out of his belt. His copy had picked up long iron pole. I grinned. Dirge suddenly looked around nervously.
"It's like rock, paper, scissors." I said. I rushed the two. The Dirge's copy came at me, the pole raised. My copy slammed into the second Dirge. Paper covers rock, no need for scissors(me) to worry about rock. I lunged. Dirge parried the blow with the dagger and danced behind me, the blade aimed at my back. I dived as he lunged. I rolled and spun onto my feet. The blade knocked the dagger from Dirge. He backed away. My strength was going at an increasing rate. I deactivated the Gemini and the pull stopped. I could tell Dirge wasn't any better off. His copy had been around for a little longer.
"Very good, Rigel. I can see you're learning." he said between gasps. He leaned back against a large stone wall. "But you still have quite a ways to go." I whirled around. My blade connected and severed the top half of Dirge's copy from the bottom half. It dissipated. Dirge smiled and nodded. "Well, it was worth a try." the hum of a helicopter above me drew my attention. An ecliptical helicopter flew overhead. A ladder dropped from the open door. Dirge smiled. "Until we meet again." he suddenly leapt up and grabbed the bottom of the ladder.
I lowered the sword in defeat and waited. A few minutes later another helicopter came. This one was the Foresworn. It landed in an area that was clear of rubble and two people jumped out. They helped me into the helicopter. As it took off I glanced down. And I could've sworn that I saw a person down there. He was familiar. He had a long, dark cloak on. The covered his face, but I knew instantly who it was. I had two questions. The first was why didn't he help me.
The second was more confusing: Why was he down there?
Wednesday, 15 April 2009
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Currently
Final Fantasy X-2: Theme
By Original Game Soundtrack
Ruin
see relatedthe Rising: prologue
Manifest brethren. Starved for too long, we have been. Blind in our sleep we have allowed ourselves to be chained and imprisoned. Come forth and show the heretic mortals of this world the true force of this world. Become flesh and let the others know of us. Reclaim what they have stolen and end them before they awaken. Sleep, they do. Deep in their slumber we will destroy them. The silent guardians will remain silent, as we will be unseen. And they shall remain silent. Horror awaits this world. Take up breath and open your eyes! See the slander these heretics have strewn across this world! This will end before it even begins. We will come and go as we please. Transcending the Wall, and then finally breaking it. Come, arise and awaken! Let us show them the dark . . .
The room was quiet. No light but what filtered from between the blinds and dirty window. The moon's feeble attempts to imitate the Sun went unnoticed. A lone figure stood in the middle of the room. It had not been there a moment before. The very shadow coalescing into a sentient being. It had not been in this world, on the other side of the Wall, for almost five-hundred thousand years. It was vaguely human, but the attempt was obvious. It was waiting. It had landed on something when it jumped. Triggered and alarm of some sort. It could feel a strange heat inside of it. What was that? Could it be fear, no . . more than likely it was anger. Yes, yes it must have been. It had been so long since it had felt the mindset that the air on the other side opf the Wall could give you. It remembered now. The feelings of sorrow and joy touched at its mind. Ah yes, this world could kill you. The air was so strange. As it remembered, its form melted into one that more resembled a human.
It could feel the guardian now. A warm rush swept through it, inflating it almost. It felt like propelling forward, straight into the oncoming enemy. It warmed it, but gave it a rush of energy. This must be excitement. A very pleasurable emotion. It sighed, then inhaled more of the otherworldly drug. What this world could give it. Another sweep of emotion, joy this time, ran through it. It couldn't wait. Soon this world would be there's. And then they could breath in what the mortals of this world enjoyed constantly.
Then the feeling was enormous. It was right on top of it. It formed what could be called a smile if it was lloked at from an angle. Then the wall exploded. Dust and brick rained onto a cloud that swept away from the debris and then solidified on the other side of the room. Something stood in the hole. It was humanoid, but it glowed. It lashed out, a tendril of black punched through the wall and slid into the glowing being. The enemy lifted and rushed into the room. The being lashed out at the shadow. It parted and ran across the room. Torpedoes of black rushed from it and erupted next to the being. The darkness scalded it. The being moaned and glided back to the opening in the wall.
It rushed towards the glowing enemy. The heretic that dared to slander its kind. The being raised its left arm straight out in front of it. The front of the being launched a brilliant explosion of light at the shadow. It swerved, but this had been expected. A second whip of light stretched from the right side of the being and lashed at the shadow. It felt the tremendous wave of heat as the light collided with it. A feeling of sorrow passed through it, which was replaced by momentary joy at the fact that it at least had a moment in that world, before it felt the rough jolt as it passed through the wall and back into where it came from.
Their plan was ruined now. It had set off an alarm and failed to stop the enemy. This was going to take a lot longer than they had originally thought.
All over the world they were rising . . and now the guardians knew . . .
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NO MORE STALLING!!!!!!!!
I've been putting this off for waaaaaaaaay too long. At long last I am finally going to actually write the story I said that I was going to write. Not only that, but I'm gonna try and write two stories, this will keep me active. The first you should already know about(memory lapse, forgot the damn name!). The second is going to be called the Rising. There's gonna be a system to how I'll write them too. First, I'll write a prologue for the Rising. Then I'll write an installment to the first story. Basically it'll just be a simple back and forth method. I'll hopefully have the first Rising written before tomorrow. Then the first actual installment of the first story will be posted. And I'm actually going to do it!! So, for anyone who actually wants to read them, just wait until tomorrow.
- rushed
rushed_luck
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- Name: Chaotic Hypocracy
- Member Since: 3/9/2008
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About Me
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There's not really much to tell. I love to read, write, and listen to music. My name also speaks alot about me. I'm the guy who's tried too hard to do this, too hard to be that. I have lived humility. But I've grown accustomed to it. And now, I live peacefully with the thought, "Hey, I'm different, get used to it world!"
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Random though: Halo & Starship Troopers. Flood vs. Bugs. Those of us familiar with Halo know the outcome.
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If it doesn't matter, make it matter -- If you're not a problem, become one -- If it's not personal, MAKE it personal!
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The individuals rights will be protected so long as they don't conflict with the state . . . . This is what awaits us.
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