I don't know if I can use this yet, or how I'd do so if I could, but here's something that hasn't left me alone all day.
It may be omake for the Stagger, but I think I may have to work this in...
(Typing Every Word In Caps is a hard habit to break sometimes!)
_______________________________________
"Those voices! I know those voices! Show yourselves!" Doug yelled, worry showing in his eyes. "Why, oh why, did they have to find me _here_?", he thought in panic.
A few tense seconds after Doug spoke, three figures stepped from the shadows that surrounded him. The mysterious figures each wore identical black cloaks, concealing everything but their eyes- colorful, piercing orbs, which seemed to see into the very depths of Doug's being. They stood in a line in front of him: one short figure -too short to be fully mature-, on the left, another, taller figure in the middle, and the third, who managed to reach a medium height despite being hunched over, on the right end.
A voice spoke: nothing betrayed to which figure it belonged, nothing save its tone- deep, sultry, and quite obviously feminine.
"You Seek To Break The Wheel Of Destiny," it said.
As the first voice finished speaking, another- this one the sweet, bell-like tones of a virtuous maiden- took up where it left off.
"Why Do You Do This?," it asked: curiously, yet unhappily.
Predictably, the third voice- that of a young girl, yet possessed of more knowledge and wisdom than any girl- picked up the thought, as the last echoes of bell-like tones faded into the inky otherscape.
"Know You Not That What Is, Is For A Purpose?," the girl questioned, somewhat accusatorily.
When the girl finished speaking, all three figures, in perfect unison, stepped forward and spoke as one.
"Who Are You To Trifle With The Destinies We Ordain?"
A tinge of something dangerous entered Doug's voice as he responded. "So it is you who have caused so much suffering here?" As he went on, his voice grew in power, becoming louder, angrier, and more incredulous with every word. "_You_ are the reason that *these people*," his arm sweeping around, indicating the world around him, "have lost their pasts, and avoid their futures? _You_ keep *these people* ignorant, binding them ghosts of pasts that may not be, while blocking the way to their futures! WHAT could THESE PEOPLE EVER have done to deserve this, THIS TRAVESTY?," Doug roared, glaring at each of the figures in turn.
"We Have Done This," responded Sultry, a hint of- was it regret?- in her voice.
"It Has To Be," continued Child, certainty audible in her words.
"You Cannot Change Our Paradigm," Bell-tone finished.
"I Write." Sultry.
"I Direct." Bell-tone.
"I Produce." Child.
The Three spoke together, their chorus resolute. "We Ended The Past, To Produce The Enduring Present. We Repeat The Present, So That The Future Does Not Happen. We Prevent The Future, Because There Is No Future. If We Did Not, The City Would Be Gone, And All Would Be For Naught!"Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines...
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
It may be omake for the Stagger, but I think I may have to work this in...
(Typing Every Word In Caps is a hard habit to break sometimes!)
_______________________________________
"Those voices! I know those voices! Show yourselves!" Doug yelled, worry showing in his eyes. "Why, oh why, did they have to find me _here_?", he thought in panic.
A few tense seconds after Doug spoke, three figures stepped from the shadows that surrounded him. The mysterious figures each wore identical black cloaks, concealing everything but their eyes- colorful, piercing orbs, which seemed to see into the very depths of Doug's being. They stood in a line in front of him: one short figure -too short to be fully mature-, on the left, another, taller figure in the middle, and the third, who managed to reach a medium height despite being hunched over, on the right end.
A voice spoke: nothing betrayed to which figure it belonged, nothing save its tone- deep, sultry, and quite obviously feminine.
"You Seek To Break The Wheel Of Destiny," it said.
As the first voice finished speaking, another- this one the sweet, bell-like tones of a virtuous maiden- took up where it left off.
"Why Do You Do This?," it asked: curiously, yet unhappily.
Predictably, the third voice- that of a young girl, yet possessed of more knowledge and wisdom than any girl- picked up the thought, as the last echoes of bell-like tones faded into the inky otherscape.
"Know You Not That What Is, Is For A Purpose?," the girl questioned, somewhat accusatorily.
When the girl finished speaking, all three figures, in perfect unison, stepped forward and spoke as one.
"Who Are You To Trifle With The Destinies We Ordain?"
A tinge of something dangerous entered Doug's voice as he responded. "So it is you who have caused so much suffering here?" As he went on, his voice grew in power, becoming louder, angrier, and more incredulous with every word. "_You_ are the reason that *these people*," his arm sweeping around, indicating the world around him, "have lost their pasts, and avoid their futures? _You_ keep *these people* ignorant, binding them ghosts of pasts that may not be, while blocking the way to their futures! WHAT could THESE PEOPLE EVER have done to deserve this, THIS TRAVESTY?," Doug roared, glaring at each of the figures in turn.
"We Have Done This," responded Sultry, a hint of- was it regret?- in her voice.
"It Has To Be," continued Child, certainty audible in her words.
"You Cannot Change Our Paradigm," Bell-tone finished.
"I Write." Sultry.
"I Direct." Bell-tone.
"I Produce." Child.
The Three spoke together, their chorus resolute. "We Ended The Past, To Produce The Enduring Present. We Repeat The Present, So That The Future Does Not Happen. We Prevent The Future, Because There Is No Future. If We Did Not, The City Would Be Gone, And All Would Be For Naught!"Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines...
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.