Post by Mammon on Jul 19, 2017 8:24:48 GMT
| Hell Is Where We Are|
Mammon's PL: 113,792 Mammon's current PL: 28,448
GAIN BONUSES: Heavy Weights + AL PL MULTIPLIERS: N/A
Mammon's PL: 113,792 Mammon's current PL: 28,448
GAIN BONUSES: Heavy Weights + AL PL MULTIPLIERS: N/A
Here we are again, just me and you, which is to say me and me. The spirit was again trying and failing to put it all behind him, ‘just give up, you had your chance’. That was true he had played his cards and been dealt out of the table, it happened to the best of us and now him.
He was sitting by the blood pond staring into the red water catching glimpses of his reflection, or what ever stared back at him without eye’s or anything he used to be, he traced one pale finger across the side of his cheek and where his jaw had once been, he remembered his hair, his eye’s, and that knowing smirk that he had graced the galaxy at large with. It was a good face, now gone.
He concentrated on his old form feeling the memory, being the memory, but alas it was a memory. Past tense. He could change forms as easily as others changed clothes, just one moment you the next something else, now it was like trying to hold smoke, it always disappeared.
‘Just give up’ it was sorely tempting, ‘nobody will miss you’ that was true enough, he hadn’t been the most likable person in life and even in death, he was still a right bastard. ‘Just lay your head down and forget about it, it’ll be better for you and everyone around you’. Time was when he’d have said no and screamed it loudly, but now it was getting more and more appealing. Just to fade away like a bad memory.
He lay down on the bank of the pool letting the waves lap up and kiss him letting the red water cling to him, it was some ways from the sensation of life but it was still something, even if it was cold and all sorts of awful. “I get what I deserve.” well he wasn’t sure the soldiers he put to the sword would agree to that, or the houses he burnt. Probably was more than he deserved, he should count his lucky stars that he wasn’t being torn apart by vultures or some other great greek tragedy themed punishment. “Just gonna-
He couldn’t just give up, the universe may have been better off without him but he was damn going to make a fight of it, he had to get back up. He slowly pushed himself off the ground the red rivulets of water clinging to his body before snaking their way down him in long red lines.
“I am sorely reduced.” and it was true, he wasn’t the same demon anymore. “One more, one more try against inevitability.” and he willed himself to change, to rebuild old bones and create new links, to feel the blood in his vein and to hear his heart thumping in his ear’s. Alas he didn’t feel a great change just the same old spirit. “In the end I am-” and he sore it, there on his head like some great branch on an oak a horn stuck out of his head, and little by little he concentrated gathering up his thought’s and willing himself to change, another horn popped out of his head with a wet sucking sound. “AGAIN!” he shouted feeling something tickle in his throat, he had a throat! And the spirit blew up like a balloon swelling with a red gory soup inside his opake body, an eye lazily floated around in the pool of red bobbing once, and then twice before fading into the mess.
‘POP!’ and like that the white sheet was shredded leaving a man in its place, he was kneeling covered in bright strips of gore and a thin film of mucus, and even for all that mess he was smiling and laughing something fierce. “Despair not world, I’m back.”
He flitted through the air making streaks in the clouds leaving them swirling in his wake, the air was tumbling through his hair making it whip wildly around him like some half mad octopus, and he felt alive, god had he waited so long to be doing this, how could he have ever taken this for granted? He laughed feeling the joy tumble around in him like spirits in the belly of an alcoholic. “I am much reduced? I am greater than ever!”
---
You’d thank your lucky stars, say you’ll never be ungrateful ever again, but time is the great killer of promises, it turns words to so much empty air. “I’m hungry.” there were perks to being a spirit, no hunger, no need for sleep and he never knew the weight of breathing now that he had experienced what it was like not to need to, he had to remind himself every so often to breath before sucking in a gut full of air.
And he wanted a bite to eat lest he be forced to start trying to munching on spirits, he wondered how he’d go about that? Garlic sauce, maybe some onions on some bread. “C’mon ghosts break it up.” and what should he spy an ogre breaking up a couple of spirits fighting over who was the most ‘EVIL’, clearly they had never heard of him otherwise there wouldn’t be an argument, but there behind him was his prize. A pack lunch.
And the first thing the ogre knew of Mammon was his fist to its gut, that surely would have toppled him over- and the ogre turned winded yes, but not defeated. “You horned bastard!” that wasn’t how it was meant to go, and as its blue fist connected into his face and nose with a ‘CRUNCH’, it sent the demon reeling back. “Blue bastard!” and they met again throwing punches like a machine gun of stupidity, ‘THUD’, ‘THWAK’, ‘GADZOOKS’.
He had split his lip and his eye had swollen shot with an ugly bruise, but the same could be said of the ogre who was winded and breathing as heavy as you please, it felt like everyone punch was framed in slow motion, every ripple of flesh and tensing of muscles picked out in detail framing itself in the mind, and it always ended the same the same, the explosion of pain and red flashing before his eye’s. “Bastard.” “Bastard.”
If only he had his sword, his hand went reflexively to his side groping at where the pommel use to be, right swords didn’t have souls and obviously didn’t come with him. “You know, you were a lot-” and before he finished he launched himself at the ogre with an overhand swing and caught him square on the jaw, sure it had been a cheap move but he wasn’t here to win friends.
“Bastard.” “Bastard.” they squared off the muscles on their bodies rippling with the effort as they moved into a fighter’s crouch, and they took of it in a dead sprint meeting with in the middle with a heavy base ‘SLAP’ of stupidly chiseled abs. They tumbled clawing at each other pushing and rolling with the weight as they sunk deeper into the muck as the two souls who had been arguing a few moments ago were sitting and watching like this was the best thing they had seen in years, it probably was.
And when the rolling had begun to pick up speed like a cat in a tumble drier they rolled right into the pond, almost flung apart from each other with a ‘SPLASH’ and forced to sit in the mire covered in bright red beads of water? It didn’t matter what it was that ogre was going- there were two of them now, wait no three of them. “Ah. Bastards?” it was then he realised this might not be worth a cheese sandwich and turned and began to fled with them hot on his heels, he practically water planed his way out of the pond and took off at a sprint that would make an Olympian jealous, and when he dug his feet into the ground and pushed himself off with looping leap he really had to think ‘when have I ever felt this alive’ that left him hanging in the air before flying off into the distance. “I’m back!”
I’ve been given permission by Somatrope to use his Gravity Chamber, and have flavored it during this thread to be Mammon getting used to his new body.