06-04-2016, 09:51 PM
Destruction was one of the core principals of any reality. It was a member of a holy trinity; a constant relation that had to be maintained for anything to transpire upon a plane of existence. Destruction, along with Creation and Progression, were more than mere concepts; they were animistic forces with wills of their own. Nealaphh, as well as many others, knew the names of these fundamental entities as Azathoth, Shub Niggurath, and Yog Sothoth, respectively. To say that they held little regard for the results of their intermixing spheres was more than an understatement. It was a sentiment akin to asking the rain if it cared where it fell, or asking a star if it cared on whom it shone. Such was the way of Nealaphh and the Enigmas, keepers of the Balance.
Nealaphh had always been predisposed to the whims of Azathoth, and by dint of that association, the Crawling Chaos Nyarlathotep. In its home universe, it had been a tertiary entity at the most, relegated to managing and herding the whimpering dregs that comprised the succulent underbelly of civilized life. To work its way into the hearts and minds of the dejected, the scorned, and the hated, by giving them a place to be accepted and loved. Over time, and with gentle coaxing, these downtrodden souls would amass as the true manifestation of the Crawling Chaos.
...and yet, Nealaphh had been far from a god. Such a narrow-minded term was inherently a misnomer for what the shapers of reality truly represented. From the silvery shores of the Astral Plane, to the fused divinity and depravity of Gehenna, Nealaphh had walked the path of death and entropy. Murdering that which was immortal, and dismantling that which was foundation had always been its role.
So what of the God-Mind in the Omniverse? Even in all of its depth of conception could it ever have conceived of such an unnatural affront to the Balance. Its role as Destroyer compelled it to tear the place to shreds, defile its sensibilities, and invite the destruction of its amassed consciousness. Here though, it could have an agenda of its own. Nealaphh had entered the Omniverse with the goal of tearing The Smiling One from his throne. Petty vengeance really, even if the God-Mind hadn’t called it such a thing at the time. Over the weeks that followed, its focus changed to the gradual controlling and manipulation of the populace through succor and vision. A simple plan really; build the Omniverse into a paradise, and then with the reigns in its hands, drive the beast of civilization so deep into the true depravity of sentience that it could never recover.
Now though, as it fought against the Arch Dragon Volvagia, the last few remaining Gorons scattering into their dens and caves, what was this that it felt? Having so long removed itself from the jurisdiction of human emotions, the God-Mind did not immediately have a name for this emotion. A sense of pride...and...relief. Relief that at least some Gorons would be safe. Underpinning this though was a great, deepening hollowness. Regret? Guilt? It was hard to define. Their suffering had entirely been a result of the secret manipulations and whims of the God-Mind, and it had done so with the feeling of security that its machinations would never be truly revealed. The damage that surrounded it now, though, the raw Destruction that screamed in and of itself...did not please Nealaphh.
What have I done?
There would be no undoing the damage. Resummoning the Gorons that had been killed would not hide the scars that would remain here. For what reason? Nealaphh wanted to say that it was not for such pettiness as glory or fame, but ultimately, that had been what it was after. To be a god, whatever nonsensical implications that title had held. Ultimately, Nealaphh’s actions, however auspiced and immaculately calculated they had been, were entirely human. That was what it had been hiding from this entire time; its own humanity.
And now, here, fused with this human and confronted with the throbbing pathos of the suffering it had wrought, its humanity flooded to the forefront of its mind. The God Hood, suddenly overcome with the burden of its regret, slowly sank to the scorched rock below, head hung low, and wings splayed out in the ebon dust. He could feel the eyes of the Primes that had followed Nealaphh’s grand vision upon him. He could feel the predatory indignation of the Arch Dragon whirling through the psychic medium. Ennui overtook the God Hood, and though Jason Todd did his best to will their shared body into action, Nealaphh would not budge.
All at once, there came a sweeping motion and a suffocating heat. His eyes and body told the God Hood that it had been snapped up into the jaws of Volvagia, the bereaved mother clenching on the listless Prime with all the glee and satisfaction of a dog with her favorite chew toy. With screeching abandon, Volvagia whipped her head back and forth, the shaking motion causing her searing fangs to shred the body of the God Hood with each frenzied thrash. At long length, Volvagia released her prey, and the God Hood was flung far to the earth below, landing with a pronounced crunch.
Destruction. The land was suffocated under its imperious grasp. Nealaphh would tend to its duty; Balance had to be restored.
The power of Lazarus, and indeed, the strength needed to keep itself bound to the body of Jason Todd, was ebbing quickly. Already, thick ropes of simmering smoke trailed from the God Hood as Nealaphh’s essence seeped from its body. Volvagia reared around in the sky, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and rage as, for the last time, the God Hood rose to his feet. Some might consider the unstoppable power of a volcano to be a destructive force, but in reality, the surging magma and cooling stone was an ongoing surge of Creation. The Ashen Steppes, however, still lacked one thing.
Progression.
The God Hood called the Chidori Blade to his hand, the black sword glinting in the embered firelight. Nealaphh had originally considered the weapon to be no more than a tawdry token of victory when Okor had delivered it to the God-Mind. Now, though, faced with the ultimate force of this Verse and the weight of its choices, Nealaphh was glad that the sword was in its possession. Without knowing exactly how, the God Hood called upon the Sword of Kusanagi. Brilliant scintillations of chirping static flared to life along the length of the weapon, pulsing to a blinding apex of brilliance. The pure, white-blue light reflected starkly off of the dark iron mask bearing down on the God Hood. With a defiant stare, he looked into the eye of Volvagia, even as she retched forth a final, triumphant shriek, and rose to meet her.
Like a winged bullet, the God Hood rose through the ash-choked air, Chidori Blade leaving a trail of unbridled power in its wake. The combined skill of Red Hood and Nealaphh was more than enough to spot a hairline fracture along the vertical length of Volvagia’s mask. Raising the sword in front of himself, and bracing the pommel with his other hand, the God Hood drove the Chidori directly into Volvagia’s hidden face, the black blade piercing straight through the protective artifice as if it wasn’t even there. The momentum of this full-bodied strike saw the blade fully wedged into the Dragon Queen’s face, where it continued to sputter and spark as she writhed in agony. The God Hood continued up along Volvagia’s spine, until one errant flick of her tail smacked the fused Prime in twain.
The two bodies of Red Hood and Nealaphh soared up through the air for a bit longer before landing back upon the harsh substrate of the Steppes with soft plops. It was all that could be done. Nealaphh closed its eyes, and awaited its fate...
Nealaphh had always been predisposed to the whims of Azathoth, and by dint of that association, the Crawling Chaos Nyarlathotep. In its home universe, it had been a tertiary entity at the most, relegated to managing and herding the whimpering dregs that comprised the succulent underbelly of civilized life. To work its way into the hearts and minds of the dejected, the scorned, and the hated, by giving them a place to be accepted and loved. Over time, and with gentle coaxing, these downtrodden souls would amass as the true manifestation of the Crawling Chaos.
...and yet, Nealaphh had been far from a god. Such a narrow-minded term was inherently a misnomer for what the shapers of reality truly represented. From the silvery shores of the Astral Plane, to the fused divinity and depravity of Gehenna, Nealaphh had walked the path of death and entropy. Murdering that which was immortal, and dismantling that which was foundation had always been its role.
So what of the God-Mind in the Omniverse? Even in all of its depth of conception could it ever have conceived of such an unnatural affront to the Balance. Its role as Destroyer compelled it to tear the place to shreds, defile its sensibilities, and invite the destruction of its amassed consciousness. Here though, it could have an agenda of its own. Nealaphh had entered the Omniverse with the goal of tearing The Smiling One from his throne. Petty vengeance really, even if the God-Mind hadn’t called it such a thing at the time. Over the weeks that followed, its focus changed to the gradual controlling and manipulation of the populace through succor and vision. A simple plan really; build the Omniverse into a paradise, and then with the reigns in its hands, drive the beast of civilization so deep into the true depravity of sentience that it could never recover.
Now though, as it fought against the Arch Dragon Volvagia, the last few remaining Gorons scattering into their dens and caves, what was this that it felt? Having so long removed itself from the jurisdiction of human emotions, the God-Mind did not immediately have a name for this emotion. A sense of pride...and...relief. Relief that at least some Gorons would be safe. Underpinning this though was a great, deepening hollowness. Regret? Guilt? It was hard to define. Their suffering had entirely been a result of the secret manipulations and whims of the God-Mind, and it had done so with the feeling of security that its machinations would never be truly revealed. The damage that surrounded it now, though, the raw Destruction that screamed in and of itself...did not please Nealaphh.
What have I done?
There would be no undoing the damage. Resummoning the Gorons that had been killed would not hide the scars that would remain here. For what reason? Nealaphh wanted to say that it was not for such pettiness as glory or fame, but ultimately, that had been what it was after. To be a god, whatever nonsensical implications that title had held. Ultimately, Nealaphh’s actions, however auspiced and immaculately calculated they had been, were entirely human. That was what it had been hiding from this entire time; its own humanity.
And now, here, fused with this human and confronted with the throbbing pathos of the suffering it had wrought, its humanity flooded to the forefront of its mind. The God Hood, suddenly overcome with the burden of its regret, slowly sank to the scorched rock below, head hung low, and wings splayed out in the ebon dust. He could feel the eyes of the Primes that had followed Nealaphh’s grand vision upon him. He could feel the predatory indignation of the Arch Dragon whirling through the psychic medium. Ennui overtook the God Hood, and though Jason Todd did his best to will their shared body into action, Nealaphh would not budge.
All at once, there came a sweeping motion and a suffocating heat. His eyes and body told the God Hood that it had been snapped up into the jaws of Volvagia, the bereaved mother clenching on the listless Prime with all the glee and satisfaction of a dog with her favorite chew toy. With screeching abandon, Volvagia whipped her head back and forth, the shaking motion causing her searing fangs to shred the body of the God Hood with each frenzied thrash. At long length, Volvagia released her prey, and the God Hood was flung far to the earth below, landing with a pronounced crunch.
Destruction. The land was suffocated under its imperious grasp. Nealaphh would tend to its duty; Balance had to be restored.
The power of Lazarus, and indeed, the strength needed to keep itself bound to the body of Jason Todd, was ebbing quickly. Already, thick ropes of simmering smoke trailed from the God Hood as Nealaphh’s essence seeped from its body. Volvagia reared around in the sky, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and rage as, for the last time, the God Hood rose to his feet. Some might consider the unstoppable power of a volcano to be a destructive force, but in reality, the surging magma and cooling stone was an ongoing surge of Creation. The Ashen Steppes, however, still lacked one thing.
Progression.
The God Hood called the Chidori Blade to his hand, the black sword glinting in the embered firelight. Nealaphh had originally considered the weapon to be no more than a tawdry token of victory when Okor had delivered it to the God-Mind. Now, though, faced with the ultimate force of this Verse and the weight of its choices, Nealaphh was glad that the sword was in its possession. Without knowing exactly how, the God Hood called upon the Sword of Kusanagi. Brilliant scintillations of chirping static flared to life along the length of the weapon, pulsing to a blinding apex of brilliance. The pure, white-blue light reflected starkly off of the dark iron mask bearing down on the God Hood. With a defiant stare, he looked into the eye of Volvagia, even as she retched forth a final, triumphant shriek, and rose to meet her.
Like a winged bullet, the God Hood rose through the ash-choked air, Chidori Blade leaving a trail of unbridled power in its wake. The combined skill of Red Hood and Nealaphh was more than enough to spot a hairline fracture along the vertical length of Volvagia’s mask. Raising the sword in front of himself, and bracing the pommel with his other hand, the God Hood drove the Chidori directly into Volvagia’s hidden face, the black blade piercing straight through the protective artifice as if it wasn’t even there. The momentum of this full-bodied strike saw the blade fully wedged into the Dragon Queen’s face, where it continued to sputter and spark as she writhed in agony. The God Hood continued up along Volvagia’s spine, until one errant flick of her tail smacked the fused Prime in twain.
The two bodies of Red Hood and Nealaphh soared up through the air for a bit longer before landing back upon the harsh substrate of the Steppes with soft plops. It was all that could be done. Nealaphh closed its eyes, and awaited its fate...
Quote:1,356 Words
Activated Corvidae to change stat Array:
9/3/9/6
Moves Used:
Chidori Blade
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued