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un: enneameter | text
[cw: forced body transformation]
gloves for skeletons
skeleton writing gloves
gloves for skeletons to write with
pens for skeletons
pencils for skeletons
how to show non verbal support skeleton
hand gestures used by young adults
supportive hand gestures used by young adults
purpose of repository of infinite knowledge if knowledge provided not pertinent to requests
meditation for skeletons
meditation no lungs
hands made of bones gloves for writing
These queries are not returning information of practical value. Are there alternate sources you may access on my behalf? No, I am not particular as to their provenance. Yes, all of the questions. Thank you, Calliope.
gloves for skeletons
skeleton writing gloves
gloves for skeletons to write with
pens for skeletons
pencils for skeletons
how to show non verbal support skeleton
hand gestures used by young adults
supportive hand gestures used by young adults
purpose of repository of infinite knowledge if knowledge provided not pertinent to requests
meditation for skeletons
meditation no lungs
hands made of bones gloves for writing
These queries are not returning information of practical value. Are there alternate sources you may access on my behalf? No, I am not particular as to their provenance. Yes, all of the questions. Thank you, Calliope.
no subject
[Ortus knows at least ten necromancy facts, if not more. That is definitely one of them.]
I am perplexed you would state otherwise.
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One of them even bled. Somehow.
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I pray I cannot bleed.
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You're in Trench.
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[Concern: rising.]
What is skeleton blood like? So I might know it if I see it.
no subject
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Although I hope fervently that, given the durability of bone over skin, this mystery remains unsolved.
no subject
If you are alright with remaining comfortably ignorant, I can't blame you, though it is a little disappointing.
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I am prone to inducing disappointment.
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[Then, a more thoughtful question occurs.]
Is it hard being a scholar of language and history when so much of your own has been obfuscated?
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[And then, that question. Effortlessly piercing, a spear thrown to the heart of a matter Ortus had not quite ever thought of in those words.
The answer wells up immediately, like fresh blood.]
Yes.
Yes, it is. All the more so for the deliberateness of the act, the totality of obliteration. We built our understanding on foundations of dust.
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So he could jealously guard the past and nobody could prove him wrong. Like a child who won't share his toys.
Even before the end, our history was like that. It's always obscured by the delusions of the winner.
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But this was not obscuration. It was annihilation. An amputation.
I did not know the name of my world. I do not know where my ancestors lived on the planet that was once theirs, or what languages they spoke, or the tales they told in them. I do not know what they dreamed for their descendants. I will never know, unless the man who holds that knowledge deigns to share it, and even then, how would I know it to be true?
It is an epistemological sin. Perhaps that makes it lesser than many of his others, but I do not forgive it.
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Did anyone ever tell you about Adam and Eve, the tree of knowledge and the original sin? It's a story from the religion that the Necromancer carved his empire out of.
no subject
I do not know this story. Would you tell it?
chara's bible fanfiction let's go
When God created humanity, first he made a man and named him Adam. He allowed him into a paradise called the Garden of Eden, where he could freely eat the fruit provided for them. With the one exception of the fruit from one tree, the tree of knowledge. So Adam wouldn't be alone, God ripped a bone from Adam's chest - a rib, and created a wife for him. Eve.
They lived contently for a long time in the garden, ignorant and unable to choose to do wrong, because they didn't know what right and wrong was. What shame or guilt was, that there was any choice other than to exist and obey. However, one of God's own dissatisfied agents took the form of a serpent, entered the garden and spoke to Eve. He tempted her, asking her why she is being kept from the tree and the fruit it bears. He asked her why she was satisfied being nothing but a wife, a mere accessory crafted specially for her husband. She began to question, to doubt. Some might say that that in and of itself was her original sin. To think for herself, so that she might learn more than obedience.
She ate the fruit. And she convinced Adam to eat the fruit as well. And suddenly they were able to think, to doubt, to understand things other than the paltry amount that had been spoon-fed to them by them by their tyrant. And for it all, the serpent got what he truly wanted, and humanity was taken from the garden, stripped of it's divine status as children of God and instead punished with living with free will, all for this original sin.
It's amusing to me, that your God has so eagerly chosen to replicate the story of his own.
no subject
He finds many such things amusing.
Do you think the God of this story, too, took delight in the downfall he engineered? For if he did not wish for them to eat of this fruit, why set the tree in the garden?
Perhaps that is what it is to be a god. To take pleasure in power and punishment, to withhold knowledge. To be the sole adjudicator of right and wrong, your people left in ignorance you call innocence.
Or perhaps it is merely that our Lord is a rank plagiarist.
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[They think every joke he makes is tinged with unimaginable levels of grief and bitter self hatred. It reminds them of Sans.]
I do. On the surface it looks like he desired eternal submission and servitude, but even had God's favorite angel not lured humanity into being cast from grace, it was always inevitable that they would eat the fruit. They had eternity after-all, and never once would they have been permitted the freedom to think for themselves.
Even without free will, it's the nature of humanity to get bored. The worst of sins are born from that boredom. That question of 'What would happen if I did this?' motivates some of the worst acts of cruelty.
And God is no different. Yours or his. They hide behind being unknowable, unreachable, and in leaving their subjects in the dark, because so long as they are otherworldly they are safe. Nobody can expose all the ways in which they are a lying control freak who sees others as nothing but dolls to play with. Like what he turned his wife into.
But yes, he certainly is that. I think he's so obsessed with being the only one to remember the world that he willingly turns himself into the very stories that made it.
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[He should stop himself. Refrain from going further. This is the only topic he has ever seen make the Emperor ice over in terrible, ancient rage.]
Much like the Tomb at the heart of my House.
I no longer believe that he meant for it to stay shut. He would not have permitted my House to live if that were so. He would not have fashioned a door with a lock that might one day meet a key.
All of those who lived and died to keep the rock rolled over the Beast lived and died for naught, and he thinks nothing of it. He does not care what blood pools rancid at the lips of hell so long as it is not his.
The fruit that must not be eaten, the lock which must not be opened. A joke, told always at another's expense. And this is what a God amounts to?
Sometimes I would prefer that there be none than to bear the burden of a God's play.