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Post by me on Aug 24, 2007 0:42:09 GMT -5
Thats good Because I can think of at least one other person who would need a few comments.
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Aug 24, 2007 0:47:02 GMT -5
Who? Dagoth, Death, Uesugi? I can't recall ever commenting something Uesugi wrote besides that joke poem and that thing about the samurai warrior.
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Post by me on Aug 24, 2007 0:51:50 GMT -5
Uesugi =_=
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Aug 24, 2007 0:54:36 GMT -5
Ah, I see. Well then I'll be sure to read his work(s).
*runs off to read Uesugi's stuff*
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Post by me on Aug 24, 2007 0:56:41 GMT -5
Have fun, and bring snacks!
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Post by Khornate Marksman on Aug 24, 2007 0:57:53 GMT -5
*tosses bag of candy corn at Me*
Happy Halloween Biatch!!!
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Post by me on Aug 24, 2007 10:59:31 GMT -5
Thanks =_=
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Post by Disaster <3 on Oct 24, 2007 22:07:57 GMT -5
Me, we need an update! This is getting good. -grabs a bowl of popcorn and Skittles-
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Post by me on Oct 24, 2007 22:32:52 GMT -5
OK then -_- I will update this when I start writing again!
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Post by Disaster <3 on Oct 25, 2007 6:44:09 GMT -5
^_^ Yay!
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Post by me on Dec 3, 2009 0:04:17 GMT -5
Before he could ask the man named Abraxas what he was talking about his world began to ripple. At first he didn’t understand what was happening, but after a while it came to him in a blinding flash of insight. As soon as he understood what was happening the world began to ripple faster in response, before things began to melt. He didn’t yet know if it was merely his perception of things that had been modified or if the world itself had changed, but he knew that right now things were quickly changing back. His mind hastened to help these strange forces at work upon him, and soon enough things were as he remembered.
He was once more standing in that little lit space surrounded by darkness with his hand clasping an iron gate, and next to him stood that red haired man holding the scythe. The man cocked his head, and stared at him as if waiting for him to finish something very foolish. After several awkward seconds of silence the man finally spoke, “Well, are you going to finish the path which you have started? Or do you wish to stand there until the trumpets sound and you have your choice taken from you?”
He doesn’t know what happened! The entire experience had been deeper in his mind than these people could reach, and for some reason that thought scared him. It wasn’t the fear that most people felt, caused by a lack of knowledge, but a deeper fear that came because the knowledge he had just gained meant more than any ignorance could. He tried to keep this fear from showing on his face, though he knew it to be a pointless exercise with these people penetrating his mind and spirit so completely. Without another word he pushed open the iron gate, and once more the world began to ripple.
Things melted, reality asserted itself, and he saw a shower of red feathers drifting slowly to the ground. That was when he saw the man with the red wings, the person whose face had replaced the gatekeepers own. In the vision that face had been emotionless, a never changing constant in a world where everything else was so confusing. Here the man’s face was torn between a confused frown and a smile, and soon another face appeared above him.
For some reason he couldn’t completely see the man’s face, but he knew those wings. Wings with a feather of every color and shade beneath the sky. The winged man spoke, “So you pass through from life to death. We bring welcome to you who pass the test.”
“Is this reality or another vision?” he immediately said in reply.
“Accept that this is the reality that the majority subscribe to, but it is up to you, Nicholas F Lyle, to decide if this is the one that is ultimately real,” replied the man of many colors. So far he was proving to be a very irritating man of many replies but no answers. He was so put off by the answer that it took him several seconds to realize something very important… The man knew his name.
“How do you know my name? Did you take it from my mind?” he asked, somewhat confused. He knew that the red haired man had taken him inside his mind for what they called a test. It was entirely possible that they could have taken something from him while they were inside his conscious.
“Actually I looked through your wallet to discover what you were once called. That was the last time that you will ever be called Nicholas, for he has died and you live on. To call you the name of a dead man would be improper, so now you have no name,” the man said, finally giving an answer as well as a riddle. He was so disoriented by that simple fact that he couldn’t find a way to reply to the other things that the man had said.
There was a silence after the man’s answer, because he didn’t know what could be said after that. They man was taking his name away, and for some reason he accepted that the man had the power to do that. In the same way the other people around them accepted the fact that it wasn’t their time to talk right now, so they stood as silently as he.
When the winged man extended a hand, he was surprised that the man had ended the period of awkward silence, and with a start he realized that he was horizontal on the ground. He quickly grasped the other man’s hand to cover his discomfort, but he got the feeling that they all knew that it was an act and nothing more.
That was fine with him, because he had just been shown that their little omniscient act was just an act.
As he stood he finally decided that since he had gotten one answer, he might as well try to get more right now. He almost felt a physical hunger for whatever knowledge that they could give him, and he quickly leapt into another line of questioning, one that had bugged him since he had woken in the hospital. “What the hell are these wings? I’ve seen so many people with withered little stubs walking around, but none of them noticed! And then I saw each of you have these things on you, and I want to know why!” he exclaimed, and unfortunately the man answered as he usually did. With a riddle.
“How do you wish to view them? If you see them as a mark of greatness than that is what they are, but if you see them as just a fanciful little decoration than they are that as well. As to why the sheep can not see them… Do you wonder why the blind cannot see the sun? It is just accepted that their eyes do not have the strength to see, so just accept that their minds are not strong enough to comprehend,” the winged man answered. It made him grit his teeth in frustration.
“Why wont you give me a straight answer?!” he almost angrily exclaimed.
The winged man began walking before answered, and he was forced to begin walking after him. Everyone else just seemed to melt away into the background, as if they weren’t important enough to be seen right now. “I give you answers that you cannot understand because it would be very cliché of me to say that you aren’t ready. Besides, if you somehow do understand when I am trying to say when I hold the meaning away from you, I know that you are one who can be allowed to learn more than I was originally going to teach you,” said the man with colorful wings, before he saw the ghost of a smile grace the man’s face. “Besides, who said that you deserved to know the why?”
It was an obvious reference to the events that had happened within his mind, and for some reason that really bugged him. “OK, so why did you take away my name? Heck, do you even have a name?” he asked to try and get his mind off the man’s infuriating way of answering questions. There was almost no way that the man could make a riddle of this!
“I am Aesma, the man who tested you was Abdiel, and the reason you don’t have a name is that you have yet to prove that you need one,” he said in a somewhat bored voice.
They were in the middle of the warehouse with nothing in front of them except empty concrete when for some reason the man stopped, and he quickly stopped besides him. His anger was fighting harder and harder to find a way to get him to turn on the man, but right now he knew that would be a very bad idea. He only grit his teeth again and ask another question. “Do our wings have any effect on the real world?” he quickly asked.
The man made a shook his head and made a disappointed noise beneath his breath, but finally answered, “The answer is an unrepentant no.”
“Then why did they heal me!” he said triumphantly, eager to prove this man wrong.
Instead of bowing to his ability to connect the dots in his mind the man once more made a disappointed noise. “You think you are healed, but you deceive yourself. You think that you own a name, but that was the ravings of a fool. You think that you own a face, but you do not see. You think that you can see, when you are quite obviously blind,” the man said, as he reached out and grabbed his arm. There was a sudden pain and he cried out, his eyes flashing down to see what had hurt him.
Blood leaked from a bullet wound in his arm, and even as he watched the blood leaking from his arm his vision ran red as blood flowed from a wound on his head into his eyes. He was spun around by that man, and gasped in surprise once more to see that they had actually stopped in front of a wall. How could he have possibly not seen that?! But before his very eyes a door suddenly appeared which the man of many colors carefully opened. “This is the reality you have lived in your entire life, where you once thought nothing changed, where nothing was new,” the man said as the door opened wider and wider.
Maybe this is just another visi- Damn! He’s answering my questions before I can even think them!
Some still rational part of his mind managed to catalog the objects in the room. There were plywood boards covering windows that sat besides the door, another feature which he hadn’t noticed until now. Most of the walls were covered by bookshelves that overflowed with literature, but there was space set aside for a cot and an all metal mirror. As his vision passed over the mirror he once more gasped, and this time he tried to push away from whatever was holding him so close to this room.
In the mirror he could see the wounds which hadn’t been there earlier, the wounds he had taken from a fragmenting bullet not so long ago. His head bled dark red blood into his eyes, but that wasn’t what scared him. His face was rippling and melting away like his vision had earlier, and slowly he was left with a smooth mask of skin. There were no features, no marks besides those wounds which still bled.
There weren’t even eyes, even though he could still see. “This is where you shall be kept until you realize that you have died, and until you can learn one simple lesson,” the man said, and a fraction of a second later his panicked mind began to ask why he was there.
He was gently shoved into the room, and he heard a soft voice over his quickened breath. “You must learn… That you know nothing.”
I know nothing… I am nothing. Everything’s been taken away from me now, my name and face…
He curled into a ball in the center of the room, and felt the tears come for what wouldn’t be either the first or the last time in his life.
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Post by OGRenderence on Dec 5, 2009 11:19:48 GMT -5
Neat. (I am the master of comments. Oh and wieners.)
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Post by me on Dec 7, 2009 23:31:33 GMT -5
You love those wieners >.>
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Post by OGRenderence on Dec 8, 2009 2:51:56 GMT -5
It's a joke from work.
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