11-24-2018, 05:25 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]The tilt of their head sends their body mass into a fury, head shaping and reshaping, unable to settle on a form it pleases until it eventually decides to have no head at all, flesh melting and burning away to reveal a skull that attempts to resemble a canid. It comes close, but there is still something uncanny about it, ignoring the fact that their entire existence is a spectacle in and of itself. But they feel free, empty, full all at once and cannot bring themselves to care much for the opinions of others. They do not understand power. They do not understand existence like they understood it. They had not died and redied a thousand times over to become who they were, did not understand that self was a matter of perception and was ever shifting with each passing second. One body wasn't enough. One mind wasn't enough. Not when you were everything ḛ̸̪vḙ̠r͉̥̜̘̠͇ͅyo̜̫̗ṇ͓̻̖͍̝͔́ę͚̹͎͓̟ everywhere.
They stay silent, watching, waiting, their body ever-shifting; not uncertain but cautious nevertheless. They did not care about dying, they would come back one way or another in perpetuity until everything ceased to exist and they did too. But they did not care much about interfering with mortal affairs, or stumbling across kin that they knew but didn't at the same time. They knew Luciferus, not by name nor by face but by existence, the same way they were certain he knew them. It was a bond that couldn't be explained easily, not one that Lirim would bother to try. It didn't need explanation, only understanding, and they assumed it was a mutual one between two creatures that, in all reality, had no right to remain in this world when they belonged to the void itself. If they fought, like Lirim had fought many, there would be nothing stopping this world and countless dimensions tethered to it from imploding with them. Lirim did not care for mortals, but they did not care for their death either. Everything was to run its course with as little interference as possible, and although they could promise they would uphold those values they did not know what their counterpart expected.
It must have been an awe-inspiring sight for anyone looking upon the two massive, dark creatures as if a part of the sky decided to drop upon the earth itself. It seemed they were more unstable than Luciferus was, either by free will or simply because the other didn't have the means of change as broad as they had, but it didn't phase them much. There was a reason they were fluid. Their vessel was a lie. A shapeshifting creature. A lesson in fluidity. They were both father, son, mother and daughter. Both the founder of the void and its offspring. They belonged to no one and yet to everyone at once, and if Luciferus crossed them...
Worlds would explode.
And yet there was peace in that knowledge. Luciferus was not one of their kind, not exactly. He was part of the void, although which part exactly they could not tell. It was as vast and shifting as eternity, holding each piece of reality together in ways that were hard to comprehend, and it was hard to tell when one part started and another ended unless you were that part yourself. But there was still something that bound them together, if only the realization that everything was more finite than most could comprehend.
How strange that they both pretended that they were normal. The son of the void and a part of the void itself, conversing like the universe could not implode by their mere existence and one misstep. Like countless lives hadn't been taken by them, their predecessors, ancestors and kin. It was a normal conversation, and introduction that meant so much more than msot would acredit to it. And Lirim played along, face twisting into rows upon rows of sharp teeth, bared but not quite smiling, only to reshape and morph back into an inky mass, skull hidden, rows of eyes peering at Luciferus and the world at the same time.
"I͓̝̰̳̥͜ ͕̜̞͉̰̺k͙̟̗n̘̦ͅo̺̮̩ẃ̖͓͍̫͇̬.҉͓̝̹̠̼͍̩" their murmur was as distorted as their physical form, a thousand voices seemingly pressed onto each other, each battling for victory, to be the one voice that they decided to go with. None one, and before all of them even had time to fade into an echo, they spoke again. Luciferus would understand. They were sure of it. "A̱͍̬͍̯͔ͅn̥͉̩̮d̴̝͓͕͓ ͔Ì ̼̗k̨̙̦no̦͍̠̺̗͘w͓͕̣ ̤̻t̛͇̦̩͓ͅh̪̤a̵͓̩t̸̹̻̦̳̮͇ ̷̰̞̣̻̫͍y̬͓̩͡o͙̭͞ṵ̶̼͓ ͔̻͚̥͚͞a̜̱̜̤͓l͎̮͖̳̩͟ṟ̣̺̗̀é̤̦̺̞̮a̦͓͝d̷y̧ ̸̘̙k̹͉̗̻̰͝n̯o͏͕͖̱̼̦w̯ ̶̠̠̻̩͓m̜̹̼̞̗͕̺e̻̩̮̠̩̘ͅ.̙ ̠̺̘̱̳͙͓" Not by name, but by virtue. By shape. By nature. They knew each other already, and would always know each other. Introductions were null when such a deeper bond than names could say far more than words did. But they played along, a deep, rumble of a chuckle that sent vibrations through their skull-like appendage and distorted their body once more echoing through the area before fading out into words. "Ḻ̵͕̞͔͎̮͎i͓̰r̫̲̕i̤͚̗͘m͍̝͓͈̲͔͎.͕̣̭͚͚̞̟̕" and they left it at that. Lirim. Freedom. The void. So many names but none of them ever meant a thing.
They stay silent, watching, waiting, their body ever-shifting; not uncertain but cautious nevertheless. They did not care about dying, they would come back one way or another in perpetuity until everything ceased to exist and they did too. But they did not care much about interfering with mortal affairs, or stumbling across kin that they knew but didn't at the same time. They knew Luciferus, not by name nor by face but by existence, the same way they were certain he knew them. It was a bond that couldn't be explained easily, not one that Lirim would bother to try. It didn't need explanation, only understanding, and they assumed it was a mutual one between two creatures that, in all reality, had no right to remain in this world when they belonged to the void itself. If they fought, like Lirim had fought many, there would be nothing stopping this world and countless dimensions tethered to it from imploding with them. Lirim did not care for mortals, but they did not care for their death either. Everything was to run its course with as little interference as possible, and although they could promise they would uphold those values they did not know what their counterpart expected.
It must have been an awe-inspiring sight for anyone looking upon the two massive, dark creatures as if a part of the sky decided to drop upon the earth itself. It seemed they were more unstable than Luciferus was, either by free will or simply because the other didn't have the means of change as broad as they had, but it didn't phase them much. There was a reason they were fluid. Their vessel was a lie. A shapeshifting creature. A lesson in fluidity. They were both father, son, mother and daughter. Both the founder of the void and its offspring. They belonged to no one and yet to everyone at once, and if Luciferus crossed them...
Worlds would explode.
And yet there was peace in that knowledge. Luciferus was not one of their kind, not exactly. He was part of the void, although which part exactly they could not tell. It was as vast and shifting as eternity, holding each piece of reality together in ways that were hard to comprehend, and it was hard to tell when one part started and another ended unless you were that part yourself. But there was still something that bound them together, if only the realization that everything was more finite than most could comprehend.
How strange that they both pretended that they were normal. The son of the void and a part of the void itself, conversing like the universe could not implode by their mere existence and one misstep. Like countless lives hadn't been taken by them, their predecessors, ancestors and kin. It was a normal conversation, and introduction that meant so much more than msot would acredit to it. And Lirim played along, face twisting into rows upon rows of sharp teeth, bared but not quite smiling, only to reshape and morph back into an inky mass, skull hidden, rows of eyes peering at Luciferus and the world at the same time.
"I͓̝̰̳̥͜ ͕̜̞͉̰̺k͙̟̗n̘̦ͅo̺̮̩ẃ̖͓͍̫͇̬.҉͓̝̹̠̼͍̩" their murmur was as distorted as their physical form, a thousand voices seemingly pressed onto each other, each battling for victory, to be the one voice that they decided to go with. None one, and before all of them even had time to fade into an echo, they spoke again. Luciferus would understand. They were sure of it. "A̱͍̬͍̯͔ͅn̥͉̩̮d̴̝͓͕͓ ͔Ì ̼̗k̨̙̦no̦͍̠̺̗͘w͓͕̣ ̤̻t̛͇̦̩͓ͅh̪̤a̵͓̩t̸̹̻̦̳̮͇ ̷̰̞̣̻̫͍y̬͓̩͡o͙̭͞ṵ̶̼͓ ͔̻͚̥͚͞a̜̱̜̤͓l͎̮͖̳̩͟ṟ̣̺̗̀é̤̦̺̞̮a̦͓͝d̷y̧ ̸̘̙k̹͉̗̻̰͝n̯o͏͕͖̱̼̦w̯ ̶̠̠̻̩͓m̜̹̼̞̗͕̺e̻̩̮̠̩̘ͅ.̙ ̠̺̘̱̳͙͓" Not by name, but by virtue. By shape. By nature. They knew each other already, and would always know each other. Introductions were null when such a deeper bond than names could say far more than words did. But they played along, a deep, rumble of a chuckle that sent vibrations through their skull-like appendage and distorted their body once more echoing through the area before fading out into words. "Ḻ̵͕̞͔͎̮͎i͓̰r̫̲̕i̤͚̗͘m͍̝͓͈̲͔͎.͕̣̭͚͚̞̟̕" and they left it at that. Lirim. Freedom. The void. So many names but none of them ever meant a thing.
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden