The Final Testament of Mankind on Planet Earth. I
Preface to the FTMPE
Any movie or piece of History from then onwards is basically bullshit. The second (2nd)
For the Atlantans themselves were well aware of all dimensions possible within this Heavenly realm and what creationism really meant. Knowing they were nothing more than peons compared to myself in Omega 14. Aristotle tried deciphering what Plato was trying to explain about Atlantis from the beginning. Obviously even the Roman Empires couldn't get it right. William Shakespeare was just a pathetic cockroach in comparison to anything I have ever written. So, it's not worth getting in-to Julius Caesar. Nor Cleopatra. Seeing as though, both merely objectified anything anybody else has ever or was ever and were ever trying to discover. The meaning of life itself.
The New Revelation III
One could only imagine how genuinely humble yet naive life must have been as well prevailed back then.
This was much before Pangea was ever split up into continents, for the Atlantic Ocean wasn't even born yet. Egypt is the epicenter of all Creation.
The baron wasteland of a deserted island and the dried up Nile River residing in Egypt today are all what's left of Atlantis. Should that fallen angel, the original fallen oracle: Iblis-Aseaus-Chance-Lucifer, who befell Omega 14 and His Host's Kingdom. Stayed far away to begin with. There might have been more discoveries available for Man to discover besides trying to decipher what hieroglyphics mean.
Also back then upon merely deciding to spread apart far and wide each culture populating Mother Earth herself. As well, confusing their native tongues by installing each race of Mankind with a different language or preferred method of communications. Scattering them across the land like wild dandelions. Were supposed to have stayed put. Grounded. Instead of staying on the ground, steadily grounding themselves silly their filaments were seemingly convinced otherwise to take just one small bite. And they did. Similar toward the swindling my precious Eve was ever so sweetly swindled in-to.
For the Tree of Life, isn't nor wasn't or was ever meant to be taken literally. As in a Tree exposing its roots which grow from under the dirt. By no means was Satan himself a Serpent in this existence, rather more so a Tyrant. Poor Adam, is all one can really say about the whole predicament; with a few upper rib and lower kidney shots figuratively speaking. He was after a companion, lonely by his lonesome self, assuredly plain ole tired of doggy-styling deer and mongoose out in the back woods. Hence, himself longing while yearning for her love. She didn't even exist yet.
Since begging and pleading worked so out very well, therefore bestowing it upon myself in Omega 14, along side the twenty four elders yet most importantly Almighty-Queen of Spirits. To present Adam his wish by creating Eve herself. On the Eve of Iblis' sidestepping.
Obviously, Iblis in all his greedy intention was well aware before hand, the finite circumstances involving Adam and with deciding upon injecting a minute sudden operation towards even swiping cells of pure liquid conscience from the Unicleus Sequence aforetime. Adding another Gender afterwards into her Garden. The magnitude of such a thing. Arriving late, and clumsily barging through the door. He sure had more than a few plans distilling within one's mind. From there on in, every single word or story Iblis ever disclosed to anyone were fibs.
Not only did Iblis attempt stealing one of the original four Birth-Stones, he also originally concocted a secret recipe to snake the Code of Ruins. Behind our backs. The Seven Seals of the Apocalypse. Almost feeling his eyeballs watching the waist of my Queen's keychain. A single bead of sweat poured down his slippery brow.
Blueprints were dispersed everywhere. Covering the floor and plastering all walls inside throughout the entire Temple of Life, resembling of what Eve herself was going to emerge as in this very dimension. Deservedly the most beautiful creature I could ever have created for Adam and Eden outside of Omega 14. The Leap of God shortly prior to the Fall of Man.
Sprinkling rain, a weakening rainbow and a dusty cloud of filth would be the setting for an awfully noisy Chariot drawn by a steaming fleet of spotted Horses pulling up with something I could have completely lived without. An idiot. Broadcasting. Carrying news. Arriving at the Temple's doorstep that evening, holding an envelope sealed in wax. A blank card reads: One of the Birth-Stones is missing. It wasn't even known to be stolen yet, should stealing or doing such a thing nor thieves were still foreign to Omega 14 and its four Kingdoms serving Myself and Queen within.
Settling into my throne and realizing the appalling circumstances at stake, I summoned a meeting with the twenty four oracles to meet with Myself and Queen outside the Palace of Truth for a quick pow-wow. The Palace of Truth is where I used to rest before finally resting inside the Temple of Life. The overhead layout and urban planning concerning Omega 14 is similar to the new Jerusalem herself, except there's no Pool. The Palace of Truth is built in the middle of the fathomless abyss and Temple of Life constructed behind it. Generating and sustaining energy for all four Kingdoms. The four Kingdoms are strategically placed in accordance to the structures above and gate placed within the map for the new Jerusalem.
Transition SHOT: EXT. 2
The piercing sounds for the first celestial attendants of Nine Orders in total. Archangels themselves began blowing horns and blasting trumpets fiercely while sounding tunes per the Chariots sleuthing to a grinding halt. Once they had arrived outside of the Courtyard in front of the Palace of Truth. All hell broke loose. History was presently being made at that past moment in time, reflecting what should be the course of my future forever onwards. Aseaus. Was the only word anybody could actually understand which came out of my mouth that categorical antagonizing evening.
The tip and resonance of my stainless steel Weapon hitting limestone, resonating throughout the unregulated Delphic plateau. Resonated the Sword of James upon shattering the silence as breaking a sheet of glass does anything. Before all else, the initial individuals whom approached me. Were then split in half with said dagger. Topmost starting from forehead all the way through the anus.
It was Fimely and Fishelm who were then replaced with Jeersta and Fezeaulpha.
Where the only worthwhile mentioning of anything else during that assertive signification, would have been the expression and anticipation from the look on my Queen of Spirit's face. Anticipating more. She requested it with a requisitive and eagre nod.
Blood thirsty for justice and lips trembling before us, she could scarcely mutter her own speech. O how beautifully pleasant one looked that unpleasantly ugly evening. Gesturing the left hand, followed by the right; signalled foremost the Empire to then begin flooding Omega 14: Soon afterward the journey to capture Iblis was in march.
For the Sword of James was lodged so deep into the stairs leading up to the first Mountain of Bronze. It took six oracles and the Chariot drawn with Red Horses to dislodge it from the marble and white limestone. Storming off inside the Palace of Truth, weather outside began raining a little harder that evening. Sitting alone by myself on my throne, I should have known is all I could mutter. Wouldn't you know it. Treason. Without a reason yet.
Transition: INT. Omega 14 is fathomless, easily detecting something for me shouldn't have posed a problem, for anybody else though would hath been the equivalent towards teaching a mongoloid how to solve a Rubik's Cube puzzle in the dark. Not a very pretty picture nor sight to behold. Staring down at the polished surface below my feet, tiny sounds echoed through the long corridor as subtle whispers short of the Chapel rang throughout my blessed sacrament; while bouncing off walls and ricocheting on the Jasper floor. There were two sets of familiar footsteps heard walking down the main hallway which broke the silence besides my reflection or the ceiling above. One of them I hadn't nor couldn't hear in a very long time: On purpose.
Mary. Queen of the North. In all her immaculate rosary glory.Insert more crying.
She didn't even have to say anything. I looked up and just stared at both of them standing there together for eternity it seemed. Aggrieving as injustice pierced their hearts. It wasn't prolonged much further where Iblis himself and his silver tongued charm were forced to be forever known as Aseaus within Omega 14. Iblis was once married to Mary, Queen of the North. Mary was the first mate of ye Northern Kingdom, even before I, IEHOVAH wound up marrying my lovely Queen of Spirits herself, or winding down and giving birth to either our Son Jesus nor Daughter Wisdom. Mary, Queen of the North is not to be confused with the Virgin Mary who carried the Son of Man - Jesus H. Christ in this parallel Universe we call Earth. Neither Saint Mary Magdalene, a devoted disciple to Jesus of Nazareth. Unfortunately Human Beings often fancy mixing up the three when 'trying' to decipher any relatively historical facts.
Staring, for their silhouettes were masking out the Chapel's liquid glass stained windows. It was the last time in Omega 14 where I had ever seen Mary, Queen of the North and her All-Ruling Queen of Spirits Heavenly Bodies together at one particular location. Aseaus hadn't been captured thus far.So go fuck yourselves until then.
Heading towards the second Bronze Mountain, all three of us picked up the pace trotting down throughout the iron and crystal tunnel which connects the Palace of Truth and Temple of Life. Charmingly placeful, worries began drowning out the sorrows as per the Seven Heavenly Virtues and Seven Deadly Sins were virtually stirring themselves inside our psyche. It was a maiden of a scenario to experience for any one of us. Outside, the Seven Heavenly Bodies started setting and connecting another Rainbow. Rich bronze, green, yellow and blue colors shimmered off the walkway when we walked on through said passage. For the Temple of Life was nothing more than a giant generator as well, and used to serve as a regulator for all four Birth-Stones generating and regulating power from each designated Kingdom. Rickety as it may have been, Omega 14 worked perfectly before any of the prior nonsense already mentioned. Each Stone gathering, collecting, storing and transferring energy for the entire progressive collective conscience back into the Temple.
At that moment the original Table of Creation, antecedently was once originally called the Table of Life. With the King's Seat of Power in the middle, Queen's Scepter behind thereof and twenty four Thrones reserved for Wise Elders circling the set up within. This was before the Wise Elders were even considered Oracles.
The Garden of Eden or Unicleus Sequence could have simply been another gift, a bonus treat from myself to enhance my enchanting Queen of SpiritsThere is no actual need for an apostrophe' in this case if you truly think about it, so I am never actually going to use one. personal flower collection. Differences between this specific flower within her multi-dimensional garden unlike and opposed to any others in reflection prior to construction is that it should have produced more energy for Omega 14, producing more and using less instead of solely 'using and abusing' power. Above each of the twenty four thrones rests twenty four unique flowers appearing how the Unicleus Sequence appears from the outside-in. Lest where the fundamental purposes and principle were concocted far before it was ever made nor needed for that matter. Hence, Iblis in all his greedy intentions had been concocting his evil plans well before hand. As in 'Blueprints' are nothing more than liquid crystal walls, fourth dimensional floors and ceilings inside the Temple of Life. Outside would hath the appearance of Bronzed mirrors. A virtual two way crystal mirror.
With the two Queens perching on her royal Scepter, and myself resting in my King's Seat of Power. The three dimensional radar which scans Omega 14, began materializing over the Table of Life. The hunt was on searching for Aseaus.
Transition: EXT. Overlooking the Palace of Truth and successfully arranging themselves in an overhead perspective, the four Horse drawn Chariots arranged themselves in a cross+wind formation. Cleaning up quite nicely afore-mentioning the mournful loss of poor Fimely and puny Fishelm. The crowning of Jeersta and Fezeaulpha took place shortly thereafter.
Following the loud and heavy footsteps crackling over glass-like gravel, the close up viewpoint follows a pair of armored boots; legs from Horses and parts off Chariots which are blurring out the background: The monster feet came to a sudden stop as another single horn blew its tone. A lonesome hand holding an unusual item, wavers up to the middle of a medium format view. Fingers benevolently release the Crown of Iblis, in half-time the coronate falls slowly to the ground. Hitting the sandy pebbles, stirring the Omegearth and bouncing around a few times before finally settling down.
Insecurity was born.
For the Crown of Iblis contains four precious gems, three sacred stones and one metaphysical crystal. Originally worn and foresworn to Iblis, King and Host of ye Northern Kingdom. The fourth and middle horn bears the metaphysical crystal which allows the Ruler himself to communicate with each Host per Empire from the throne inside their Chapels. The first, third, fifth, and seventh horns bear Diamonds. The second, fourth and sixth horn bears Sapphires.
Upon summoning Abadoth to retrieve the Crowns of Fimely and Fishelm, Lebelleteron, Host of ye Southern Kingdom held the Sword of James firmly on the left shoulder of Abadoth's robe. On the back of said robe displays a Red Dragon. Abadoth served second in line to Iblis, prior to the Fall of Man. Abadoth is merely pathetic in comparison to Lebelleteron, so contemplating coronating Abadoth seemed all a bit preposterous. Under his breath, as an engine rumbles, everybody could hear Lebelleteron's voice as he muttered a 'do not disappoint me' while staring down toward a nervous wreck which would have been Abadoth. Off he went, drawing the Chariot drawn by Black Horses in lieu of retrieving said Crowns. Lebelleteron climbed the marble limestone staircase leading into the Palace of Truth. Once climbing the last stair, he inserted the Sword of James into its holster. A sheathing sound as per any other metal on stone surface should sound. Similar to grinding teeth on sandpaper.
Behind all three of us, Myself - IEHOVAH King of Hosts, Queen of Spirits and Mary, Queen of the Archangels. Adam was watching what we were doing, you see; Adam: lived within all twenty four flowers, and the walls inside the Temple of Life in days of yore, far before he was inserted into the Unicleus Sequence. Almost of kin, and relatively an unnatural first born Son for my Queen of Spirits temperance. As well, rather a genuine companion for when I had spent countless seconds crafting everything I am talking or have ever talked about aforesaid.
Transition: INT. The entrance grew dim, as an enormous silhouette cast its shadow along the shimmering floor, blocking most light escaping from the crystal tunnel. Lebelleteron seemed just as surprised to see Mary, as I had felt seeing her resign oneself to their intriguing moment earlier on. All four of us including Adam, must have had the deer caught in headlights expression on all of our faces. It wasn't an ordinary situation for anyone to see anybody, seeing as though everything was perfectly balanced and in perfect harmony before Iblis and his unusual behavior came into being and unbalanced the Scales of Justice.
Approaching Lebelleteron, Mary; the Hail Holy Queen of the North reached for something around her neck. A necklace made of pure white Gold with a mini Dragon locket whose eyes are studded with Sapphires and teeth grown with Rubies. All this whilst Adam curiously following closely alongside within the walls. As she unlocked the chain, the Dragon pendant slipped out of Mary's grasp. Reaching as it was falling to the floor, Lebelleteron snatched it out of mid-air. Locket clenched in a tight fist, and stringed lace dangling through his fingers, he opened his palm to reveal the Jewellery.
Transition: Close up. By pressing both eyes on the Dragon's head simultaneously, the locket opens up a secret compartment. Inside the Dragon's mouth, a platinum key rests on top of a Diamond encrusted tongue. This key was specifically designed for the Queen's Skeleton Chest from each belated Kingdom which primarily hosted the four heavenly Birth-Stones. All Queens hath pendants of their own including my Queen of Spirits using various creatures to be addressed much later as per the story developing in further detail farther on down the road.
AttackWith the pendant glowing and tiny fractions of light sparkling all around his palm, Lebelleteron scooped the key resting from inside the Dragon's mouth. DecayFingers drenched in sparkles and upon examining it a little closer, the key nearly appears to resemble something of a Human Skull. The entire Temple of Life filled up with lower bass frequencies and the glow of our hearts sang when Lebelleteron spake untoward us. -105766451How could this have happened? Questioned Lebelleteron while he neared toward Mary. SustainFollowed by sweetest sound anybody has ever heard nor dreamt in their whole scrimpy lives. A whispering tone of many flooding waters passing through muddy rivers in autumn as lonely birds outside wind down to sing harmonic tunes at dusk. Mary, Queen of Heaven and her melodious voice was an additive for that specific moment. Mary's vocals are of the high-pass or trebly range. So when she said: Release-222035968It would have been the only time I had ever taken the locket off. Sounded like music to everyone's ears.
When I, IEHOVAH; KING of Hosts spoke for the very first moment during the course of said meeting, gazing heretofore and the two withstanding afore me. Intonations of a mid-range frequency once again complimented the resonance from the previous voices noted before. Each word that comes out of my mouth should be perfectly in-pitch. Solid forms of pure energy. Almost similar to a vocodic-robotic type voice, except decaying organic pulses of pink noise breaking apart the constant wave. A minor LFO (Low Frequency Oscillator) also serving as tremolo to express emotion.
2872625Those are the 1114047least of our -327701worries. I said.
With the radar scanning Omega 14 and the fathomless plateau only showing 75% of the vast tableland. Because of the stolen Birth-Stone all remaining 25% of conscience supplying power, not only to ye Northern Kingdom, but sustaining the twenty four flowers within Adam's fantasyland, weren't working. The undiminished rig teeming with joy wasn't functioning properly yet it didn't even seem to be bothering Adam, as he was seemingly unvoiced from what I had noticed at that vigilant chapter and perseveringly critical verse.
When She, Queen of Spirits vocalized unto us, her elegant voice sounded similar to the micro rhythmic fluttering of raw chirping data bathing within an echo chamber dipped in honey, which then conducted the ensemble and synchronized everything as a metronome does anything else.
2201506283520Worries? She said.
Followed with a melodical: 19444809186999Let there never be any actual worrisome troubles troubling the minds of our rulers. 19444809186999As troublesome you may find them behaving, 162594111708288or whatever might happen after this.
Activating the primordial Birth-Calculator. Deliberately and in all her intendment, Eve herself expectably super-imposed over the fourth dimensional floor whilst materializing affront of everybody. For the wire-frame schematics appeared abruptly overlapping the inner walls; assimilating every movement or maneuver she made within the two dimensional parallel axis. Gradually, crawling onwards to reach us upon metamorphism, attention solely focussed toward Eve.
265107191576832Can you hear me? I said while directing thy speech.
She never responded.
367871202951168Eve, 2254221295980530798592can you hear me? Saying it a little bit louder.
Again, no response. From there I immediately shut the system itself off. When powering the machine down, there was only one word to accurately describe what came out of my vocabulary at that exact occasion; which was:
AttackAdam just stood there, blinking, observing, everything happening in the room. DecayFor his near companion was barely alive or hanging on. SustainAll of us were a bit distraught over the whole offsetting predicament. 16897103071762873737And everybody's focus unmistakably sifted on towards my direction. ReleaseAt that specific date in History, I haven't thoroughly 'enjoyed' attention very much ever since then.
Transition: EXT. 3
The incremental pounding of heavy drums beating, increasingly faded in as per the hooves trotting to a gentle walking, with a hint of squeaking metal from the inner wheels affixing underneath below of the Chariot. This is where we meet Jerusala, Queen of the West. Once married to Fishelm. And at that unequivocal moment, Jerusala, hadn't even heard or had known about that little 'mishap' beforehand.
Abadoth was simply doing his job.
Apropos of kneeling earthward toward Jerusala's feet, a stumbling Abadoth, himself, eyes, courage and gaze began rising thereupon as per one of the Heavenly Bodies began widespread flaring like an eclipse exploding right behind her head. There could be an omnipotent sound-scape of breathless frequencies which should fill the air with natural vocal choirs, saturated with high-fidelity chorus, as she waves her left hand over the insecure brow of his sight, bravery and humble vision.
2658435257860096And what hath brought forth, you there - 276477266817449984Abadoth; 1444855218750to this part: 12223872000000in the neck of my woods? The view changes from his-to-her perspective. (140°/40°) 96225003243136What is it that you are seeking from myself outside ye own Kingdom? Said Jerusala, Queen of Wisdom.
Jerusala's voice would be similar to an angel caught inside a winter snow-storm. Under her breath, yet retreating within the currents outside, adding a splash of reverb and a slice of misery. A hauntingly chilly tone for anybody to endeavor.
548864000000Other than what I am already aware of, my Lord? Said Jerusala, while finishing off the prophetic moment herself.
103218887702988800I bring unkind news, your Royal-Highness. Sighed Abadoth, under one's breath and barely being able to look at the face, albeit attempting to stay clear of her eyes.
Abadoth's voice is quite chalky and rough, almost sounding like rock salt being filtered through the vocal cords of pesky crows after inhaling helium filled balloons before the clock strikes noon amongst a freezing October morning.
27176359918422720512And forewarned I am not entirely certain that you will appreciate it very much at all. 1316334660340000000000Shall I even continue? Said Abadoth, whilst clenching teeth.
12223872000000It's not only King Iblis is it? Jousted Jerusala, Queen of the West. Glancing towards the two Mountains made of Bronze. Abadoth just shook his head in loyal despair.
50857745026224833493706No, 837957846611267631972352I am afraid not your Highness, 32139012631485004906496King Iblis isn't the only reason I'm here right now. Murmured Abadoth, diving into the dirt, as Queen Jerusala swung her right fist narrowly avoiding his cranium on purpose.
2885458372850544142336Well, 23413707046353649092608I say don't obloquy myself. 51925508234423828125Do tell me Abadoth, 1405091840000000000once second in-line to King Iblis, 47478948543197919Host of ye Northern Kingdom, -6905579925770240which reasons hath displaced you here then? 11686511179538104320With the exception of blocking my entrance. Demanded Jerusala.
Transition: Setting. AttackThe coming mise en scène switches to a monstrous and bewildering ceiling view above ↑ Omega 14 and far in the wake of ye Northern Kingdom, resting from the highest natural Mountain-Top situated on the vast and astronomical Delphic plateau as would be seen visually using a wide-angled telescopic lens created by sleazy Human Beings. DecayWhat's showing are four divine Kingdoms, ye Northern Kingdom in front with the Palace of Nature, two Mountains made of Bronze in the center (the Palace of Truth and Temple of Life), wilderness spreading throughout the valley and water everywhere else. SustainReversed viewing shows the Palace of Wisdom for ye Western Kingdom to the → right with Mount Lust behind it, the Palace of Eden for ye Eastern Kingdom to the ← left with Mount Virtue behind it, the Palace of Solitude and ye Southern Kingdom straight in front and all the way back with Mount Olive trailing everything. -71269613568Each Dynasty is divided by forests, Palaces built into Mountains, freshwater streams between every Kingdom and a long narrow river, the Water of Life flowing down the middle of Omega 14, starting with the Palace of Truth, finally winding around Mount Olive which feeds the rest of Omega 14. Somewhat of an Island as the shore is the end of Earth and the Sea goes forever and ever and ever beyond. Same principle for the sky or Heavenly Bodies. ReleaseFrom the viewpoint of King Iblis. He's resting on topside a Mountain positioned behind the Palace of Nature. Mount Evil. The dense Clouds are building up moisture yet becoming more denser, releasing drippier Rain as per several Heavenly Bodies bounce around a few times and then begin setting underneath the horizon.
The twenty four flowers growing inside the Temple of Life were originally crafted with pure liquid conscience as well, decaying in various levels and stages, it was collectively time for something totally brand new.
Transition: Narration/Scene. INT. AWhat hadn't been installed was the missing ingredient to cook the first dimension, raw data collected from baked Dragon's Eggs. -4387728068577330091Recovering pure Liquid Conscience from the tear ducts of Dragon's Eyeballs, and scraping Scales from the underside of Dragon's Bellies, finding or even baking Dragon's Eggs themselves - sounds a whole lot easier than it truly is, nor was; or ever will. BA triple dosed formula of a horrific medley. Attempting to retrieve said items shall be no easy chore for anybody. CSalone. 老紅色龍 -15391391947186083594The old Red Dragon who spawned Sin itself, awaits patiently in her lonely Den, → readily attacking and easily fending off whatever prey comes near to fend onwards herself.
Transition: EXT. 5
Transition: SWAP. This specific forte is willingly a warm, swift; sharp and wet unwonted splashing motion - withering omnifarious high pitched frequencies screaming like a theramin does: Essentially a pin-head-on-needle-poking-balloon effect. Starting from nothing: one singular dot even; extending to the full framed picture, affecting the whole nine yards.
Transition: INT. -4877857800327184Disintegrating into a brief dovetail later, located betwixt the beating heart of Omega 14, and cascading inside the Temple of Life, myself; IEHOVAH: Queen of Spirits; Mary, and Lebelleteron sat patiently whereas I may have begun drawing cards seeking a typical conclusion for that peculiar situation which was at stake. 4147208598074392648155060322787696059812500-16992-6064227Whichever and whatever means possible. Index and middle fingers would hath been cupping closed eyeballs with thumbs pressing firmly underneath the bottom side of my chin. Making an inferior † crucifix shape appear ever so softly under oneself, hardly exposing in front of the bare face, casting its looming shadow over the Table of Creation. Fornent by shutting everything off, except the twenty four flowers sustaining our common power-grid system. Withstanding, despite Adam still innocently scrutinizing, he calmly stood there blinking, not moving or saying anything nor quite sure whatsoever to expect next, low and behold realizing what just happened. Confused of why the near love and opposite sex of his short yet abstract life had nearly died right upfront of him. They all startlingly looked skyward when noticing Michael's Archangels opening their trumpets uptore and squeazing pitches uproar from a few floors up above. It also became increasingly hot indoors, and I didn't. Move, nor do; or say anything: Sitting heretically, for I kept benevolently breathing. Inhaling and exhaling. Engaging through telepathy and moderately observing the dreadfully painful context(s).
1153433648991708717020652320955514880Meanwhile the supporting shelves, Crown of JENSEN featuring eleven unique branches encrusted with ten precious gems, shrining one finely-tuned metaphysical crystal. Several non-repelling minerals infixing within the tallest branch, meant to divert concentration away from the other horns installed thereof, began illuminating whilst transmitting Abadoth's classified message onto us.
Transition: SPLIT Screen On - Yellow Tint. AttackI spake unto him-myself, only looking the Host square in ye eyeballs, engaged yet observing everything and watching everyone else amidst the subtle rustling during that pragmatic witching hour, saying:
-2460640-6569164881420003133768566And are you ready, 32718419444809186999sire Lebelleteron?
He looked directly at me and said:
77240220800787176I guess [pause - 3363768691210697340004335616already knowing the rest of his uncomfortable life was somehow awkwardly accounted for] 1226317041664so, 2363339264are we?
Transition: SPLIT Screen Off - Wide Red Tint. DecayAmid pausing, Lebelleteron hastily handed Mary the locket back, except held onto the key. Which Mary took and re-strung around the neck. From there, deliberately unfolding arms and posing within a limping crucifixion position, she despairingly steeped into weeping. -3024358953602442067797Stapling everybody's attention on Mary and seconds after gathering the tears running down rosey cheeks, her eye sockets started profusely bleeding. -6048717907204884135594Dripping blood furiously all over the beautiful gown suspended over a platinum braided chained vest protecting one's organs. The very first claps of rumbling thunder and flashing lightening ever seen or heard in Omega 14, were witnessed at that exact historical occasion.
82075667968859807161172029522662272441632268699Jehovah. I said.
Aforementioning: 7824968It doesn't really look like it, 11502576does it?
42463278No, 4968203526not especially on the surface, 5903672except; 18360000what else are we supposed to do in such a profound breathing spell?
Followed Lebelleteron by using the right sleeve of Mary's white robe to cover his mouth, when my Queen of Spirits chirped up in the midst of our echoing last words.
943200I see no boundaries, 1474525no canyons, 95844125no walls and no problems, 724527facing the journeys ahead for each one of you to endure, 57800I expect everybody to return safely and alive as they would hath normally been. 2353988223Fail-safe and protected from the uncivil Evil which is awakening upon Omega 14. She coveted.
181793617Lebelleteron. I repeated.
455000Yes, 22750000your Highness. Responded Lebelleteron.
-9762540491Fetch me thy Crown, -433664if you wouldn't mind. I said.
7296237Not a worriment, 6035920my gentle God. Replied Lebelleteron as he walked straight toward the shelving unit in order to pick it up.
SustainWith the view changing from ninety (90°) degrees beside Lebelleteron to behind him, he carefully fetches the Crown of JENSEN, lifting its brim from under the cushion and pampered resting spot. Spreading throughout the entire room, Lebelleteron is lit from the front, and the silhouette is seen from behind precisely ten feet away and twenty feet above ground. Slowly zooming-in and curving into an arch until the viewpoint is exactly five feet above him, a five second interval/shot/vision affixed fetching.
With Mary losing blood, Adam half-stunted, Omega 14 losing energy and my Queen of Spirits loss of breath and fully-trembling. Lebelleteron gently passed me the Crown.
6726363829Listen, -1663392640all of you; -27754496I truly don't even care anymore: 32107893750tell me - 45864714240who can tangibly share an adverb with myself?
Transition: CU - Green Tint. Close up of left thumb languidly circling the metaphysical crystal, while pressing downwards at a forty-five (45°)¾ degree angle.
Transition: Medium - Blue Tint. Release2201506283520We pretty much need to do what we have to do. 65018484843750There are no other reasonable options on the table at the moment. 105672301608960Whatever intentions Iblis has or were, 4492989358245154they certainly aren't nor weren't for any soulful purposes, 21954560000000or righteous intendments, 3276395431139160rather wicked reasonings if I must say. 2626167507200I'm still considering the rationalities, -1171559558736besides the whereabouts, -1124453424640although it's beginning to make perfect sense of why he may have taken the Stone altogether. -29235789040640As in sensibly, -327157056474the circumstances are unquestionable, -908121341952yet his perseverance lacks proper understanding. -743580000000Even though, 596441843718160384Iblis should of have had the most peaceful existence anybody could hath ever asked for in this existence or life-itself. 543746344044172149He did it to-himself. 36810763590554368I bear no respect, 516668295207168gratitude, 276477266817449984appreciation nor trust anymore. 305481501758671875Bring me thy head of Aseaus, my lords.
-43248208640At your command. Stated Lebelleteron.
Overhead viewpoint nearing seventy-six (76) feet above Lebelleteron, hurriedly pacing downward inside the crystal tunnel.
Transition: EXT. Continuing a series of medium format shots, outside the Sword of James splits the screen in-half, focussing-in on the Sword's handle. And with the background blurred out, the searing subjects swap focus. Hence, the transition from foreground to background zooming happens while each foot of Lebelleteron clanks a step closer towards the viewer, clanking upon the metal surface. Lebelleteron scopes skyward at St. Michael.
St. Michael peers earthward at Lebelleteron.
3208936What words do you have to say for yourself, 859807Host Lebelleteron? Questioned Michael as he wiped the stubby mouthpiece on his golden horn.
St. Michael's voice leaves the impression of a perfectly natural spoken proper English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of G. All Archangels have an analogue tape-delay-type-effect on their vocals. Each clocked with his own tempo. St. Michael's pitch is measured the fastest at one hundred twenty (120) beats per minute (BPM). St. Barachiel is the slowest measuring sixty 60 (BPM) beats per minute. Decreasing incrementally of 10 (BPM) beats per minute per Archangel.
943200It seems there may be a little problem for us to take care of, 327184sir Michael. Answered Lebelleteron.
Beginning from the left side of St. Michael's head, he looks towards St. Gabriel and the caption instills the sensation of a domino effect. St. Michael, peering at St. Gabriel, St. Gabriel staring at St. Raphael, St. Raphael glancing at St. Uriel. Hence - St. Sealtiel, St. Jegudiel, St. Barachiel hadn't been noticed yet, thus situated on the right side of St. Michael.
14396096St. Uriel, 57800I need you to assemble a fleet of All-Powerful Warriors. 2490254The finest of kin, 33759honor and spilled blood from all those who have perished thus far, 2283400serving the Almighty-LORD God and his humble Paradise. Said Michael.
AttackAll left-over waste and useless excrement from the four divine Kingdoms, Palace of Truth and Temple of Life - filtered through the Valley, and lastly; ended up going there: DecayThe Swamp of Sevender. Salone was simply a by-product from cultured bacteria which grew upon crusty edges towards the receding shoreline, and was no ordinary Dragon in Human-terms. More so - one monstrous, mean, son of a bitch and disgustingly gruesome, savage beast. A grueling Vampire of sorts, covered with slime, almost Human-in-form with two wings, a tail, four arms (two short, two long) two legs, two horns and one head. The end of her tail is equipped with nine protruding spikes at various lengths, width and breadth. SustainSalone feasts and eats rotten cadavers from the recently deceased, departed, or decapitated while dining on scum collected underneath the only sewer deposit in all of Omega 14. The bottomless pit located on the East side of the swamp. 10236679687776461775478915923Hell's Fury. Firstly, even though old Salone was merely a gruesomely pathetic offspring of what I had initially started, she was still family, as well - allowed us to swap cells from the under belly and tear ducts from Draconis, her only (un)natural born Son. ReleaseSomewhat the Virgin Mary for Heaven, except in Omega 14 and quite the opposite of anything anyone has ever considered pleasurable. In sight, smell or touch.
St. Michael grins at St. Uriel.
St. Uriel's voice has the impression of a perfectly natural spoken English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of D.
Followed by a nod to St. Raphael.
52808432St. Raphael, -54208I need you to build me an army, built from five of the strongest men; -118125personally selected and hand-picked out of the entire group. -94640Armed with the finest steel, -60906560weapons, 9776anything they may need in order to accomplish this mission. Said St. Uriel.
Vision of Abadoth and Jerusala. 7
Slightly left, elevated forward and in front of the Doorsteps. A close up shot showing Jerusala's right foot, finally reaching the last stair. She's wearing plain white silk slippers. To the left of her feet shows Abadoth's head and torso slowly focussing into the background. Switching to rear view and recording in double-time. Twenty feet vanward of Abadoth. Jerusala drops her arms to the side, expressing an original All-Holy - Hail-Mary, Reflexreleasing a single white rose which pathetically tumbles down the last stair.
Closing eyes, Jerusala does a graceful backwards swan dive, the mature gown covers Abadoth's whole body, and finally rests upon landing shortly three feet behind him. The view switches to the front, medium format close up. Abadoth to the right, Jerusala to the Left. Her eyes are furious, and his are scared. Jerusala takes Abadoth's short sword out of its holster. He closes one eye after the other.
-65856Could you turn around. Whispered Jerusala.
Shot of Abadoth carefully turning around.
19906560What is this other piece of information you have traveled so far to share with myself? Adding a slight sense of curiosity.
Close up of her eyes reflecting off of the mirror esque reflection on the dagger. The dagger itself is twenty seven inches in length, two inches in girth, crafted out of stainless steel and pure platinum. The handle is wound tightly with a male serpent.
Transition: EXT. Iblis is climbing a trail using the Staff of Sabazios as a support mechanism. A cane almost, nearing Draconis Valley. TonesAnd Tonnes of Red in the setting Sky within this scene. The mountains and rock formations are creepy in tone, long, thin and sharp with curling edges. Molten lava spreading down below on the sides of mountains instead of water.
Cut to: SHOT. Wide angle, one thousand yards off in the distance, all the viewer sees is a minor hint of the Birth-Stone flickering in the forest covering Mount Evil. The trees are all leaf-less, dried and shriveled up. The sounds of twigs breaking, crackling almost like a camp-fire kindling in the moonlight.
Cut to; INT: Back to Abadoth and Jerusala. Abadoth's nose is bleeding and he is limping. Both are inside the Cathedral, which hosts the King's Throne, Crown and Royal Scepters. The equivalent for the Temple of Life within each Kingdom. Jerusala is standing in front of the mantle, with the display and rack supporting the Crown of Fimely. She has mini splatters of freshly coated blood on the breast of her beautiful white, gold and diamond woven gown.
57800243745I place my complete trust and faith unto thyself, 74361918960squire Abadoth. -3640-94640And am expecting you will be careful with its well being. 157205491557I demand to know who this Jeersta character truly is, 35074the one you have been talking about. Inquired Jerusala.
Cut to: SHOT. -72722144004129803912553370414
Her finger-tips casually glide aloft and brush the upper branches of each horn displayed on the Crown.
-6293-30600He once served second in-line to King Fimely, 577368commanding general securing peace throughout ye Western Kingdom, 9100your Highness.
Blood drips on the shiny floor. Abadoth wipes his nose.
-41022298Did he now. 1374583808And what about Host Fimely? Questioned Jerusala.
27870841856308647764873208453989369649771178462088149859815006He was slain from the Sword of James, 360448857600034106875by God himself. Said Abadoth.
-628750-21820288553845762For whatever the reason, 214400299538or reasonings involved? Demanded Jerusala.
6966667968777646172672487043221706228590912Relaying the message about the missing Birth-Stone. Replied Abadoth.
-2460640491334177764617And that's all? Raised Jerusala.
1700539328159838000I believe so. Folded Abadoth.
1023327184Hardly sufficient, 211209528963my lord. Gathered Jerusala.
-7812196115215995109376Is there something more you would like to know, -362152303926558289941233664my lady? Squirmed Abadoth.
2626167507200144485521875078320620000082274940000379049574452808432-7480Is there something more I should know? 1550376452998999080That you're not telling me? 5325373604626432If not, 27708072721875be rid of my presence then. Poked Jerusala.
2658435257860096As you wish, -8120172544Queen Jerusala. Fizzled Abadoth.
Abadoth bows, kissing her on the left hand and takes the Crown of Fimely with him.
The Crown of Fimely features seven unique branches encrusted with six precious gems, shrining one finely-tuned metaphysical crystal. Same design for every Crown given to each Host per Kingdom.
Cut to: Scene. 8
DecayUnfavorable gnawing sensations of filthy bugs crawling through exposed flesh, exotic creatures and insects nestling inside dead bodies and tiny mites burying themselves deep into muddy ankles. Are itchingly felt when Iblis notices microscopic lice while stripping down, unlacing, taking off and the removal of boots and armor. He's starving. Yet, has brought nothing with him except only the necessary weapons, essential tools and survival utilities. He must fuel up. Dropping all supplies next to a few exposed rocks on the sea-shore, sweat pours down his face while removing clothing.
SustainThere's nothing worthwhile nor available to eat in all the vicinity. Scouring the terrain, Iblis crouches over the lava-shore. He stabs the Earth with the Staff of Sabazios, although instead of striking dirt, the Staff strikes something alive and unfortunately moving. It moves quickly. And appears to be a giant slug or creepy leech of some kind. A Para-sleech. Nearly three feet in length and is now bleeding and leaving a trail of blood behind. Iblis looks around and thinks to himself.
ReleaseHe walks on over to a pile of rock formations where the creature slid and cowardly hid under. Barely being able to see anything in the dark, Iblis peeks down below. Sees nothing. Reaches his hand through a hole inside the cubby. Feels around, finds nothing. Tries again, nothing. This time using the Staff of Sabazios as a poking device. Upon the third attempt of stirring the slug out from under the hole, it leaps out at Iblis and begins attacking his legs.
287262550728613408064000Jesus H. Christ. Screamed Iblis.
His voice sounds like heavy thunder being filtered through a jar full of king-cob steelies and cat's-eye marbles. Melted glass, steel and pure static-electricity rubbing together simultaneously. Adding negative compression modulation reacting as a reverse-reverb sending unit.
Narration. The monster slug had wrapped itself around his legs so tight he couldn't move or breath properly, and began decaying blood like no-one's business. Iblis continued screaming aloud while using the Staff of Sabazios to try and pry the creature off him. It didn't work, as well tried smashing fists against it with no luck. Continuing to wrestle with the beast until nearly physically drained, the blood-sucker might have won until Iblis desperately reached for a last straw upon passing out or anything possible behind his head to save himself, he found a rock to use and smash the sleech on the head over and over and over until it was pulp.
With his left leg sustaining a major wound, for the bone itself sticking way out and blood spirting everywhere, covering skin and soaking the orange sand below. The giant slug seemed to be breathing still and death wouldn't be far away or much longer. There was nothing really to use as a bandage, so he grabbed his shirt whilst twisting around the exposed leg and blood vessel using it as a tourniquet.
After removing the small knife from his utility belt, Iblis hobbled over to the lava-shore. Pouring sweat at this point, and bloody hot next to the molten lava. He inserted the knife into the raw slava, until its blade was red-hot and smoldering. Pressing the left thumb on the vessel to prevent bleeding, by using the knife to cauterize his gushing leg.
Iblis screamed so loud a flock of monstrous wild bats scattered throughout the evil horizon.
After screaming, Iblis finally settled down and sat next to the luggage. Staring downward at his freshly cauterized wound, he thought about the poor slug.
Shot. He takes his knife and walks over to the beast, which is slightly pulsing and still squirting blood. Upon flipping over, and using the blade to gently carve into the belly, Iblis slices the guts out from the slug's stomach. They spill on the ground, maggots, worms, all sorts of freshly eaten critters are covered in stomach acid and covering the pebbles. Finding, winding and digging themselves a new home.
Iblis scopes to the left, glances to the right. Nobody's around. So he basically says and does a 'fuck it' and starts eating the raw intestines straight from out of the Slug's belly with his bare hands.
Swallowing the first bite, while chewing another load. Iblis feels the steaming breath of Salone behind him. His eyes are wide open. The view pans vertically until both pairs of eyes are seen. Iblis on the bottom with Salone breathing heavily above. Releasing an impression of steam coming out of Iblis' ears.
1377285124958226432Knock knock. Rang Salone.
Salone's voice has the impression of a fruit blender, blending and chopping up flesh from those who had been perished thus far. Flapping vocal cords, close to ripping animal leather and squashing a whoopi-cushion all at the same time.
-6090656015855750Who's there? Answered Iblis.
-81648126411235074Bat. Said Salone.
5393283219888Bat-who? Said Iblis while picking out grubs from exposed flesh.
473691910157400Bat-man. Joked Salone in all her glory.
39762072452728621235263305185905Very funny you joker, 5945859807342626544134876233728please have a seat. Laughed Iblis, pointing at a rock.
4797352350No thanks, 170024374514396096I prefer standing. Said Salone patting her tail.
10176249025445656208Be the guest. Succumbed Iblis.
Salone crawlks around Iblis with the sounds of brittle bones breaking every step.
3271846334282241226317041664Shouldn't you be at home in bed sleeping by now? Questioned Salone.
1572094320056592000I was going to ask you the same thing. Replied Iblis.
90988322686996442628704I heard scuffling afar off in the distance, 218504227244162363339264as well was awaiting your visit. -4752-114048-2737152You didn't happen to bring what I'm hoping you brought, -7744-123904-1982464didja? Added Salone, while drooling something worse than puss onto Iblis' lap.
53602144008576000Of course I did. Summed Iblis, while wiping off the sludge.
Cut to: Back to Abadoth and Jerusala. 9
3589219545600000008460367871202951168Abadoth. Called Jerusala.
1327935488640000003976206569128624128Yes, 49133411372160000018688140117305868288my fair Queen? Turning around and returned Abadoth.
1817936173430400008783425802094747648When will I ever see or hear from you again? Questioned Jerusala.
672636382985760004128210126037406208I'm not entirely certain at this point, 2488754616732144001940258759220667968it's too early to tell. 920839208190153609119216168334011928Or answer properly throughout this moment in history I should say. Answered Abadoth.
-628750-639766407135087502094747648Fate is in your own hands, -3143750-166339264032107893750117305868288and you know that don't you? -15718750-4324820864014448552187506569128624128Do you even understand what that means? Advised Jerusala while being the cunt.
-1421030195218758781251611720I do. Realized Abadoth whilst being a runt.
124586513862048What does it mean then? Further questioned Jerusala.
302176337410125028404421192891005360-6580I suppose it could mean: 3384371238802150115025762952266667968455000214400-131600If I do not complete this mission; 37904957444462247250105823699221551541837406208227500008576000-2632000I will have to find a new job, 424535523328513158433750973578032641573262551420947476481137500000343040000-52640000am I right about that? Abadoth responded yet fearing the answer aforetime.
-7943-111328-341508352565920004899170871I would advise you to not fail me. Directed Jerusala as she threw a stick of some kind.
Cut to: Shot and Vision. Close up of subject twirling through the air and floating down the flight of stairs, Abadoth dived and caught the item just as it was about to hit the ground. When he dove, for the expression on Jerusala's face seemed priceless.
Abadoth stood up.
Cut to transition: Dialogue. 183600107067727645815What is this fancy stick I'm holding all about, 35891030717Lordess-Jerusala? Inquired Abadoth.
-130896-94640-10571667968It will keep you safe, -2356128-2460640-32770137406208alive and protected from evil and harm's way. Shunned Jerusala.
10692What's its purpose, 577368and what is it used for? 31177872If you don't mind me asking, 1683605088your Highness. Puzzled Abadoth.
-5720170074361127524420112860What you are holding, -12584057800327184620125161172010157400is called the Wand of Wisdom. -276848019652001439609634106875106373520914166000Named after the old wishing-well beside you. -60906560668168006334282241875878125702065232082274940000Over there. Pieced Jerusala as she pointed to the well.
-5712-7531-1020977635074That's wonderful, -34272-128027-306005083522490254except I'm still curious of its use, -205632-2176459-91800026434304176808034my lord. Repeated Abadoth as he touched the tip of the rod with his index finger.
-6954That's not a very wise maneuver there, -132126sir Abadoth. -2510394And you don't want to ever do that again. Gestured Jerusala.
-6580-131600-2632000Why's that? Quizzed Abadoth.
-6174-129654-2722734Just trust me. Solved Jerusala.
-5720-125840-2768480Surely. Redeemed Abadoth.
-5244-120612-2774076Point it somewhere or at something and say the word Dismoa. 6779790988209399349972376184-6293(Diz-moh) At the same time. Instructed Jerusala.
Abadoth points it at a tree off in the distance and says the word:
3474190764530435Dismoa. Said Abadoth.
371738411804756545Nothing happened when he tried using the wand and saying Dismoa, Jerusala smirked.
-4752-4200-3640Try again, -114048-105000-94640but put a little more effort into it this time round. Offered Jerusala.
He tries again and this time succeeds. There was a flash of circular ripples, almost transparent in form. Three sets of electronic waves and pulses shot out from the tip of the Wand toward a tree by the wishing-well.
It didn't do anything, for the tree itself just absorbed the magnetic energy.
-6776-48778196520034304000032107893750I don't get it. Cried Abadoth.
-5040-10205939433207380011130543711275It has one purpose and one purpose only, -25200-306001522931591635900289883620125to fend off the wild Animants. -126000-9180003904952799066410999734106875Giant beasts who live inside and throughout the evergreen forests between the five Palaces of Earthly Paradise. -630000-2754000010012699484785669231875878125Going anywhere near their proximity and they will make you sick beyond belief. -3150000-82620000025673588422527357103173296875So, -15750000-247860000006582971390391635674531328125you don't actually ever want to even go close to any one of them. -78750000-74358000000016879413821517312099223046875At all. -393750000-2230740000000043280548260317165457267578125Ever. -1968750000-66922200000000011097576477944100149716796875Never. -9843750000-2007666000000000028455324351925508234423828125Tonight, -49218750000-60229980000000000072962372855902952893310546875tomorrow, -246093750000-18068994000000000000187083157074662409132080078125nor the day after. -1230468750000-54206982000000000000047978639106432502264404296875You got that straight? Summarized Jerusala.
-4752-10207436I do, -114048-30600327184and that's fine; -2737152-91800014396096your worshipfulness. Finalized Abadoth.
43285634983194388591252336045090406467797Oh yeah, 5280843233637686912106973400043356165491557Abadoth. 644262870432343929723179782115426304444816117Another question. Remembered Jerusala.
78600070188831099932426134405880217636030105477What's that? Reiterated Abadoth.
9589208563033629903781178975390269442918438543637What did he say, 1169883444690099228753635749014798336236393522034597as in his last words? Begged Jerusala.
142725780252192102427647726681744998419147875284802357Who? Shamed Abadoth.
17412545190767436492826584352578600961550977898068990917Fishelm, 2124330513273627252121625561877479424125629209743588264277I'm now a dowager I didn't actually care about King Fimely anymore. Pleaded Jerusala.
259168322619382524758835224578728345610175965989230649406437I never heard anything of the sorts, 3161853535956466802057789442363339264824253245127682601921397your Royal-Highness. Shrugged Abadoth.
385746131386688949851050311682272441666764512855342290755633157Never mind then, 47061028029176051881828138024962185045407925541282725551206285717off you are. Coursed Jerusala as she winked, waved and once again sire Abadoth merrily went on his gleaming way heading towards the parked Chariot drawn with Black Horses.
Shot. -1682299538157201759688Courting the blazing Chariot, Abadoth is hurriedly charging amidst the Delphic plateau nearing an evergreen forest situated far abaft the Palace of Truth, whereas this prophetic vision begins fading outward while the other prophecies and obelizing attention fades inward - focussing on the Seven Archangels themselves; in front of the Palace of Truth: when Lebelleteron benevolently begins speaking manwards.
Sundry heraldic flags plurally waved their coat of arms astern of St. Michael's Commanders.
Transition: Dialogue. 10
1017619593-11694674880954Yes, -47478097268242147936009765185121234359-3898224960318sir. Spoke St. Barachiel, in the seam of straightening out his cloak.
-17584480469719314050373987105677764617-1299408320106What were those unusual, yet awfully dreadful noises - -65127705443404866853236989284899170871-433136106702often witnessed and unpleasantly experienced a few minutes earlier on in thou benign evening? Questioned St. Michael, pointing heavenward at the sky.
-241213723864462469826803664308647764873-144378702234The flashes of lambent flames beforehand, -893384162460972110469643219444809186999-48126234078are what we call Lightening around these parts, -3308830231336933742480161225022978780937-16042078026St. Michael. -12254926782729384231408771764476631990314229110566645744757427757121536-5347359342And what you heard afterward is called Thunder. Replied St. Barachiel.
-453886177138125341904486211620278153895345968593115714616928562577408376184-1782453114Interesting, -1681059915326390155230631332077523695403949965862082298496661481062444389712-594151038and why do you suppose that, er they... might have happened? Catechized St. Michael when Lebelleteron stood up and said:
-6226147834542185761929773920883992810445754310719654672278979870725237986016-198050346You don't actually want to know about such an affair, -23059806794600688121575757015691547058079159033390928991607586816618082349888-66016782Chief Michael. As he budged through the crowd and showed the Archangels a pair of crimson stained hands.
-8540669183185447659272691988567464658983364166729270643051724872933717286784-22005594My heart bleeds, -31632108085872482534179595279750273515947969746444859394621448606178639840512-7335198and that doesn't look very healthy to me, nor foretell or indicate anything adequate. Interrogated St. Jegudiel.
-1171559558736303996533145026242672315047177758113531080376321015529079501180416-2445066You're not skylarking around there, -4339109476819151781588136653288355847972151824036446826496119832431381139289088-815022St. Jegudiel. Reacted St. Michael.
-1607077584107067895691790028814140226902974436112384-271674It's the sacred blood of Queen Mary herself, -595213929528963973578032641668546774550983461261312-90558Matriarch of Angels, -22044968480777071058236992196888519397016048428834816-30186my lords. Acknowledged Lebelleteron.
-81648754789159231150257623232845288847893714602508288-10062What on Earth, and in all of Omega 14; happened: -302467176235171471250282741475744084051458323095977984-3354is she okay? Butted in St. Raphael as he removed a beaker of some kind from one's belt.
Description. -48778696694320026264The bottle is rectangular in shape, transparent in color with two clear esque substances swashing around inside. There's a red cross etched onto both sides of the container, inset into white circles and barely seen or visible between St. Raphael's sticky fingers.
-118125214400376648209484078249681081498630758200 Vision. 10
Dialogue. -6903870539765577817She's fine and has kept her halcyon composure, -6212714271143697997except still a bit distraught over ye whole King Iblis situation I must truthfully reinstate. Reinstated Lebelleteron.
-559143233953175377Where is she inasmuch as right now? Speculated St. Raphael.
-50322873835297957Insofar as; -84821214400397620667968inside the Temple of Life, -4529058362873737resting tranquilly with thou other noble potentates. Resolved Lebelleteron.
-4076152471030717And what are they doing? Ventured St. Raphael.
-366853722316897You're looking at it/them. -33016835007The same thing we are, -29715151506314566916988754283542633056640625St. Raphael... -2674363635567416197628250122386932373046875Trying to come up with a strategic and logical plan of action whilst soakingly mid-wasted in pure enthrallment. -2406927272010311891360807146353912353515625The sole reason of why I'm here right now, -216623454480927339753165918467254638671875outside, -19496110903283439707233311956207275390625chatting - -17546499812955087277349523198748779296875with thy lot of you. He had a 'no offense, but - I wouldn't be standing here. Outside. Wasting my precious time with you fucking idiots' expression brewing on his face, if he didn't have to type deal. -1579184983165957837924272091392822265625And how's everything else formulating, -1421266484849362047226407774039794921875St. Michael? Said Lebelleteron.
-127913983636442584236468793543994140625St. Uriel is questioning an escapade himself, -115122585272798325807184822672685546875assembling thee committee for which I had requested earlier on, -10361032674551849322635280647791015625and St. Gabriel is now on his own quest, relaying a private message to Shedusa - -9324929407096664390367150875651171875Consort of Cherubim, -839243646638699795133034310732890625King Lebelleteron. Sang St. Michael.
-755319281974829815619727123163796875How come? Poised Host Lebelleteron, weighing the options.
-67978735377734683405775433518965625In retrieval of the Flammenschwert, -61180861839961215065197887100541875my lord. -5506277565596509355867809832872625It's heavily guarded by two Cherubs deep in the place of a skull. Honed St. Michael.
-495564980903685842028102884782075For whatever the reason? Ached Lebelleteron.
-446008482813317257825292596232345They'll need it for where they're going. Planned St. Michael.
St. Gabriel's voice has the impression of a perfectly natural spoken English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of F.
St. Raphael's voice has the impression of a perfectly natural spoken English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of E.
St. Sealtiel's voice has the impression of a perfectly natural spoken English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of C.
St. Jegudiel's voice has the impression of a perfectly natural spoken English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of B.
St. Barachiel's voice has the impression of a perfectly natural spoken English tone, with a sub-bass frequency matching the musical note of A.
Narration. aThe Flammenschwert, yet better renown as the ceaseless Sword of Fire, had originally been crafted to protect any Warrior who used it for a weapon against Draconis - The young Blue Dragon. Shielding oneself from ruthless armament: endless rounds of poisonous stingers; acidic spitballs, and frozen skeletons he would catapult seaward while attempting to swap cells from hidden tear-ducts and protected underbelly. bSalone somewhat gave birth to Draconis by somehow cleverly grafting him out of rotten flesh crawling off her sweeping tail and exaggerated back. Also, Draconis shrewdly wrought reversed engineering, lesser-genes and physical characteristics. cWith Salone spawned from the hot-blooded classification, she needed to reside somewhere within temperatures exceeding thirty-six (36°) degrees Celsius, dand could only live outdoors of such conditions for two full hours per epic excursion, or else would have lost all energy and died shortly thereafter. eThenceforth Draconis was classically inbred and abnormally conceived cold-blooded, fhence only being able to survive temperatures above zero (0°) degrees for just a few short minutes. gUnwillingly, and upon deciding to adjourn sometime, they parted-ways evermore, surely life seemed destinably impossible living together.
Draconis possibly lived innately wayside while astutely resorting inside the Ice-caves halfway equidistant between ye Northern and Eastern Kingdoms. Nayward the Ice-shore, last of conclusive Dry-land in Omega 14 within that specific bailiwick, Orange, cream and burgundy textures.rustic and rocky district. Hardly ever saw nor visited Salone, seeing as though their alternatively bipolar-opposites and extreme-conditions either had to endure, paired up like two soft magnets, buoyantly rubbing antipodean each other, or heating felines contrasting to one another's.1439609666796846350
For his exterior posture excruciatingly resembled something between a chiropteran Bat howbeit, crossing the prehistoric genetic make-up, ancient tainted Scorpions emitted unanimously. Meanwhile: biconjugate and having sloppy Down syndrome intercourse. Protruding an enormously horrendous set of crouched wings, a long, strong and slender tail - marvelously evolved for defending himself, which was disproportionately sized in comparison with the rest of one's misshaped body. The razor sharp stinger always floated just a few micromites above the belonging brow, readily inept yet easily paralyzing, murdering then feasting on whomever or whatever foreign prey came near the Tear-Ducts. Prune-attacking Tear-Ducts themselves, were no ordinary circulatory gland of some sort, nor anything I personally created. As-innermost tears spilt from a Dragon's Eyeball. More-less distilling sacks of potato-decaying compost, pear-sustaining solo shapes atop the ceiling of Draconis' lair, plumb-releasing solitary fumes unorder to survive.
Shedusa - Consort of Cherubim watchfully guarded impending visitors and sneaky intruders wanting to enter or visit my garden. God's Acre, the Golgotha of Eden. The City of Dead, once a celebrated cemetery where all fortunate and tolerably unfortunate deaths tragically occurred. Forgotten souls were then conditionally buried there to be remembered throughout the ages. Two Cherubs, one male; the other female: watched over an unmarked grave, marking the entrance for the Sword's initial resting spot, which was supposed to be its final. Obviously it wasn't. Thence, lied the Tomb of King James himself. Cherubs were customarily mini versions of Man. Dwarves unconditionally, canticle within character, descant in appearance and jest overall.
-2768480-91800015855750 GENERAL. 11
η ... Seen.
Dialogue. -69034796628571253194819077994683660It's very ... -62127102055927047940315299531801780(hmmm) ... -5591432171402703147666282968761740I believe that it's ... [pause] ... -503228746200057513780133680186420far more: -45290583982979947101704971918860than what I; -40761524720914466959610744083380Salone, -3668537223444988658715122214540Beast of Beasts - -330168350079467843802449408820nor any other gluttonous creature could've ever asked for in life itself. Pronounced Salone, as she emphasized the 'F' sound while filing her overgrown and unkept claws on the brim of ye Northern Kingdom's missing Birth-Stoneη.
η ... Stolen.
-297151515063201443485158498060What else have you ever asked for? Prosecuted Iblis, -26743636355674286031599116980after he wiped off the remainder of oozing sludge from an exposed laceration and finished wrapping up his unwrapped leg.
-2406927272010391192161683340Nothin'η, -2166234544809271940258759220er... -194961109032834341282101260except; -17546499812955087878342580what I'm gonna do here... -15791849831659578318688140with this fancy Stone - -1421266484849362047397620flickering: -127913983636442584238460within the grasp of my scorching palms. Announced Salone.
η ... Something.
33759578003523504474065127219430312378996090470446350Hit or miss. 5083525456176984413939405340239134723476250And what's that going to be? Cross-examined Iblis.
74366653874371236511469927120896260718750I'm bridging a modest gap between ye ole' Ice-caves and the Cave of Embers. 3271848114480940532331060886732819553906250Meeting somewhere in the middle, 143960969895708464063818366935041466542968750so Draconis'n I may finally live together, 63342822412067937151297339471872109990722656250peacefully. 278708418561471699652597236520968249304199218750Sinfully ever after. Dreamt Salone.
12263170416641794755673899068928618697814941406250Oh please do continue, 539579498332162188726431584230446402336120605468750you slippery Devil you... Pushed Iblis.
23741497926615042669178575102723480175209045410156250Well, 1044625908771061763255095823296261013140678405761718750it dawned on me this inferior evening. 45963539985926717443969629052819575985550880432128906250Since we've removed all evidence and history from thy Northern Kingdom, 2022395759380775567364841011041468198916316032409667968750I'll be able to build my own static grid. 88985413412754124963845903672110114918723702430725097656250Supplying power and regulating a modest yet humble living temperature out there forever and ever and ever athwart. 391535819016118149840896719968258618904277682304382324218750(dreaming 'out there' hillward at the mountains and eternal seashore) 172275760367091985929994241992452770276426623338076438528191900I can then delete anywhen stories which are being locally stored interior. 7580133456152047380919746563557951375493618970246565068819381900Starting from scratch. 333525872070690084760468848646353484599095748161154580481957571900Sadly, 146751383711103637294606293401611345508212670978859204608197714761900no one will ever be able to match us again, 6457060883288560040962676909670420259836094055319391436819969190951900not even God ... [pause] ... 3262036178278739384498913282016888286141900for eternity. Wished Salone.
228340064604069177472319488203705716900331900Yah think so do yah? Shoved Iblis.
159838000115364409245486284820574277406933521900I know so, 11188660000206007873652654082078002018100285711900just watch and learn. Cheated Salone.
783206200000367871202951168209878203828128856901900Hum. (while nodding in disagreement) 54824434000000656912862412821197698586641014547091900Righty, 38377103800000001173058682882140967557250742469256281900right; 2686397266000000002094747648216237723282324989394884471900right: 1880478086200000000021840010051514823928883331661900Best of luck with that, 131633466034000000000037406208510413now - 9214342622380000000000066796864822451where's my prize? Demanded Iblis, as he extended the left hand and reached for an egg.
6450039835666000000000000119288232451277 Narration. Iblis swapped the Birth-Stone ↔ trading one undamaged, unscathed; and unopened: Θmnipotent Dragon's Egg from Salone.
Both parties were reasonably unclear toward one another's selfish ambitions upon swapping, and still holistically cryptic thus defining verse. Until Iblis went off his hobbling way, and Salone crocked on hers.
Back to the Cave of Embers. She wasn't aware of what we had been literally doing, metaphorically speaking and wanting to do with such eggs. Nor did Iblis even fully understand Salone's reasonings, neither cared to be brutally honest.
Dragon's Eggs weren't homespun eggs conversely by trade, as inner - baby dragons hatching or cracking themselves free and escaping amidst them. What Salone did do, was; deliver the eggs lying belly-down. Except, what came out of them wasn't run-of-the-mill chickadees bred for farming of some kind, instead - raw-data. Processed Ones and Zeros. Pure mathematics equalling the simplest of forms. Principally sperm esque, syrupy in texture and colored transparent-green throughout the thick and thin.
Quick cut to: CU - BLACK HORSE. Close-up four second skull-shot of stainless steel bit grinding around inside the horse's foaming mouth. Tongue hanging and torso of said horse is carving through the air, sweating like a bastard out of heaven.
Cut to transition: Abadoth. Rear view and slightly viewed to the viewers left. Viewing full-speed ahead, Abadoth is ferociously yanking on the reins, reigning the almighty Chariot drawn with Black Horses from nearly two hundred feet above the Earth, steering through the forest behind ye Palace of Truth at a frightening pace, nearing the Eastern Kingdom. Exactly six seconds later, the viewpoint has neared in on the rattling pile of flesh, rusting bolts and vexatious metal. A wide-angled shot, shooting directly westward - enslaved at ninety (90°) degrees. The Palace of Nature evilly skims the hasty semblance, trees are hastily blurring past the environment as per one smaller Sun and one larger Moon are evenhandedly recording on each mountainside. Then Abadoth shouted:
HALT! When he rearwardly yanked on the brakes.
Back inside the Temple of Life. 12
Dialogue. 313801191900107067He's nowhere in sight. I said. Concludingly analyzed with a furthermore: 35459513193819009528963There's only one target Aseaus would be heading aforewar. 40069249691957571900848077707And, 45278252149719771476190075478915923that's the creepy Cave of Embers. 51164424929161199691909519006717623517147Off to see the old nögard, 57815800169951932016888286141900597868493026083herself. 65331854192045680920370571690033190053210295879321387Salone. 73824995237011619417205742774069335219004735716333259603443The creepiest of creepies.Carrion.
478500598125007476562500Sacrebleu. Squelched Queen of Spirits.
63760125028Who else could there be to lose one's-breath with, 510080011502576besides Draconis? I Shot.
13572237652The unconditional variables are limitless, 78717625191112your Highness. 456562082670257872We should commence forewarning ye other Kingdoms. Forewarned Mary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000What intentions do you think he has, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my Skank? I Sank.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Beats me, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I cannot fathom such an interfering Catch-22. Beated Mary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000When was the last time anybody had ever tripped, 00000000000000000000000000000000000or heard from them. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Iblis, 00000000000000000000000000000000000Salone or Draconis? I Battleshipped.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Just this elapsed afternoon. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I met with Iblis before feasting. Interfered Mary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Where were you surviving during said feast? I revived.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Bathing, 00000000000000000000000000000000000at the Harem. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Washing away and baptizing uncleansed spirits from the morning earlier on, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I never actually had a chance, 00000000000000000000000000000000000nor ended up eating altogether. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Iblis never showed. 00000000000000000000000000000000000He stood me up. 00000000000000000000000000000000000It became late. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I felt bad, and wept and wept and wept, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and have been weeping ever since then. Weeped Mary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Why didn't you inform anyone at that time? I reformed.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Everything was entirely brand new, 00000000000000000000000000000000000rushing along, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I didn't have a chance. 00000000000000000000000000000000000An opportunity to consider the cumbersome consequences. Rushed Mary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Why she wants the Stone, 00000000000000000000000000000000000is unthinkable. 00000000000000000000000000000000000To a certain degree°°° 00000000000000000000000000000000000But I guess we should find out the old fashioned way, 00000000000000000000000000000000000hey. 00000000000000000000000000000000000The good ole' hard way. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Since capturing those degenerates may pose a few interesting problems to solve along the. 305481501758671875 I thought.
00000000000000000000000000000000000What problems does One speaketh? Sniffed Mary; indubitably as she generated more snlood and wiped her crusty nose before I actually said, said-passage.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Something disturbs me, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and I have a gut feeling Iblis is heading for Mount Evil. 00000000000000000000000000000000000He's not headed anywhere else, 00000000000000000000000000000000000so, 00000000000000000000000000000000000let's cut to the chase, 00000000000000000000000000000000000shall we. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Obviously wanting power. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Whencesoever his notion on doing with such technology has yet to be determined, 00000000000000000000000000000000000but what I do know ... 00000000000000000000000000000000000We can't wait much longer. 00000000000000000000000000000000000The Temple is balanced with each Stone accordingly. 00000000000000000000000000000000000A balancing act of sensitive potions. 00000000000000000000000000000000000The longer it goes without energy, 00000000000000000000000000000000000the sooner everything will start depleting, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and acting up. I felt out loud, but really hardcore thinking about Eve's tits. How to enhance them while keeping her body proportionate in scale. I balanced.
42984315023829317300115966796875 Accustomed Narration.Mary's own internal δoul and vital life-force began draining that very evening, as well organs, orifices and external openings started eternally bleeding. Coughing minor blood externally through Eyes, Ears, Nostrils and her Mouth. The Birth-Stone Iblis had stolen, supplied energy - not only to the plenary Progressive Collective Conscience for ye Northern Kingdom, bar Mary's mit combined vanwards with everybody's.173258081965200
Every being whom ever existed within Omega 14, was attached to her Spirit. Supplying them a musical instrument and digital interface.
75811353108037632A battle axe.
Him and Him. Her or Her. Queen of Spirits ruled over Queen Mary. The chain of command deemed regular. It went. Myself, IEHOVAH, Queen of Spirits, Mary, Hosts and then everyone else. Swordsmen, Archangels, Emperors and Pharaohs. Except Pharaohs were female in gender internally inside Omega 14.
SWAP-Vision. Ridden with no saddle. The rider should be envisioned riding bareback, cruising steadfast ento a magnificent white male stallion, named Arabia. En route for Shedusa, galloping swifter ≈ than godly possible throughout the crooked, winding and narrow creek inset the overgrown channel.
Narration. Waves splashed while hooves clobbered rocks beneath shallow water. Clammed hands tightly gripped the waving mane of forenamed steed upon ducking under a few dangling branches hanging down below. St. Gabriel squeezed the upper rib cage with inner thighs and let the wild beast do its thing. And that would have been jumping over fallen trees, doused logs, exposed roots and submerged boulders. Which hairline cracked every single coffin bone inside each hoof, because of the impact α-keratins had when colliding against raw Gabbro and rough sandstone. Arabia kept churning through the backbreaking path, further laming himself each immobilizing trot. That didn't stop him.
Shot. A close up of St. Gabriel gulping and swallowing what saliva was left ςin one's throat. He's already pissed thoust silvery pants … as well nearly defecating. Gripping Arabia's hair. Two peppery hares scatter like a shaker spilling salt. In his left ear, the heir of Archangels whispered.
76443227955Faster boy, 6344769ƒaster.
So he went faster.
Cut to: Back in front of the Palace. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Easy big fella. Petted St. Barachiel. As he patted an uneasy spotted horse on the head.
00000000000000000000000000000000000St. Barachiel! Hollered St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Word-over. Passed St. Barachiel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Could you come hither for a moment? Hithered St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Sure thing, 00000000000000000000000000000000000just hold Ωmega and I'll be right over. Held St. Barachiel whilst he strung some loose reins around the ass ωf his favorite beast named Francesca.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I'm sure you know, 00000000000000000000000000000000000are aware or have met our beloved Fezeaulpha, ≤00000000000000000000000000000000000(directing with the left hand) and cherished ≥ Jeersta, 00000000000000000000000000000000000here (with the right). Directed St. Uriel, gesturing toward St. Sealtiel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I do indeed, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my lord. 00000000000000000000000000000000000It's been a few omitting hours since then, 00000000000000000000000000000000000bate how could I forget these two meatheads arrest? Memorized St. Sealtiel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Good retort, 00000000000000000000000000000000000good retord. Retorted St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000And how treated are the both of you, 00000000000000000000000000000000000this fine evening? Pondered St. Sealtiel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I'm hunky-dory, 00000000000000000000000000000000000aside what's affront us. Affronted Jeersta.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Not bad, 00000000000000000000000000000000000not great. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I'd be better off at home to tell you the truth. Truthed Fezeaulpha.
00000000000000000000000000000000000That's a shame, 00000000000000000000000000000000000a damn shame. Shamed St. Sealtiel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I ain't all that thrilled myself you son of a grouse, 00000000000000000000000000000000000except there's nothing else we can do, 00000000000000000000000000000000000so suck it up and be the men you're supposed to be. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Yah follow? Sucked St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000With honor, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my lord. Honored Jeersta.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Indubitably. Dubbed Fezeaulpha.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I haven't seen either of you thistles around these parts in a bird's nest. Said St. Barachiel as he snuck Jeersta's battle axe from out of its holster and grabbed Fezeaulpha's hair while pressing the blade against his exposed throat.
They all laughed.
St. Barachiel let Fezeaulpha go and gave him back the weapon.
Cut to: Palace of Eden. Abadoth is dreamily visioned, approaching ye Easter Kingdom. Abnormally dense with foliage, the path leading up to the entrance rendered his view barely viewable, nor approachable. Branches scraped the side-walls of the hauling Chariot making horribly loud grinding noises. The jalopy stopped. And had to trek the rest on foot. There must have been at least a few minutes of trekking, hacking shrubs and climbing hills left before any reasonable civilization.
Cut to: Back to the Archangels. 00000000000000000000000000000000000You wanted five grown men. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Best of the best. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Here they are, 00000000000000000000000000000000000for you and you only, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my lord. Bested St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Jeersta. Tested St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Aye-aye, 00000000000000000000000000000000000sir. Aye-ayed Jeersta.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Fezeaulpha. Vested St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Aye-aye, 00000000000000000000000000000000000sir. Aye-ayed Fezeaulpha.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Murzachae. Wested St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Aye-aye, 00000000000000000000000000000000000sir. Aye-ayed Murzachae.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Nichan. Jested St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Aye-aye, 00000000000000000000000000000000000sir. Aye-ayed Nichan.
00000000000000000000000000000000000And Rhelbus. Lested St. Uriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Aye-aye, 00000000000000000000000000000000000sir. Aye-ayed Rhelbus.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Y'all are bat shit crazy, 00000000000000000000000000000000000you know that dontcha? Learnt St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Of course we do. Coursed the group as they synchronized themselves in unison.
Any other being whose vocals were/are not tran-described, simply have the natural tone spoken by the subject, disciple or dork.
Cut to: St. Gabriel. St. Gabriel is still riding Arabia, winding through the crippling creek, grinding his teeth patiently in despair and discomfort. The City of Dead beacons a few milliseconds away when the tamed beast prepares to slow down.
Cut to: Abadoth. Abadoth courageously chopped through the thorny foliage leading up to the Palace of Eden, until was forced to climb a massive and towering tree since chopping furthermore proved unmistakably otherwise. It would have been be easier climbing atop. So he did. And found the inevitable chore a lot easier to deal with. As well saw the momentous destination a few minutes off ye country mile's horizon, which kept him continuously moving and temporarily motivated. The landscape should be remembered as the most beautiful spectacle Abadoth had ever seen with his own two bloodshot eyes, blimy spirit and sensing fervor. Whence prematurely interrupted comest an awfully rich howling and austere lower grumbling from just a few hundred stadia away. It didn't sound very appetizing, thus Abadoth started running topward the branches, aloof the Gate of Eden.
Cut to: Back to the Archangels. St. Michael, led by St. Uriel himself finished assembling the committee of Almighty-WARRIORS. Built from the Seven Archangels, and five prized journey-men whom were assigned for this specific mission. Minus, St. Gabriel who was scheduled to meet at Mount Evil after retrieving the Flammenschwert. They packed up their Battle-Gear, Chariots, armory and weapons.
Cut to: The City of Dead. A small decrepit pond which attracted uninvited guests and lured most passing stooges, blocked the entrance preceding into the City of Dead. Arabia drank the pond's holy water, while St. Gabriel had a quick bite to eat. He found some peppercorns, hunted a few rabbits, skinned them alive and ate their flesh raw.
AUDIO. An ecclesiastical dirge of contemporary organs, chiming bells, a lustrous choir and pitched horns are breezily whistling inst the soundground. Suspensively building the impending doomful mission.
St. Gabriel butterfly tied Arabia to the wall of grapes leading into the Church. Portentously direful, he continued walking through the gate, protecting the compound. The Church of Tainted Saints. Shedusa's private monastery. Nothing strange happened between the time of death for King James and such events, thence nobody really ever came around.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I haven't seen a distinguished gentlecreep in these parts, 00000000000000000000000000000000000since those Chthonic Gorgons, 00000000000000000000000000000000000which slayed the kind King James himself. Initiated Shedusa, the instant St. Gabriel stepped foot across the line.
St. Gabriel didn't even have a chance to do a ζingle:
Before he was pinned to the ground with arms extending and wretched behind one's blades while tasting dirty earthworms.
Shedusa placed her right foot on the back of his extended neck upon asking the question:
00000000000000000000000000000000000Whatcha doin' here on my turf … pathetic spineless worm? 00000000000000000000000000000000000Answer me you crooked snake! Drilled Shedusa.
Shedusa's voice revs like a fleet of accelerating chainsaws, a polyphony of eight polyphonic voices sped up to match the sound of ∂ngels improvising a speedy jazz ensemble.
Not only, did a chance seem impossible; the squire wouldn't say anything. Forehead was implanted three inches below the Earth's crust. Feet phonically kicking rearward and squirming because he couldn't take in air. Fresh soil kept creeping down the esophagus, and it crept up nostrils every time St. Gabriel kicked hind legs or tried to breath Oxygen. The Consort of Cherubim wrenched the poor messenger's arms acutely behind his shoulders, they almost snapped and nigh vomited when the left elbow joint dislocated. Ten micromoments later and there shouldn't hath been breathing. But, being the Supreme Seraphim Shedusa was, she forgivingly liberated him.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I said answer me you cockeyed convolute. Thrilled Shedusa.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I; 00000000000000000000000000000000000I... [interruption] Again, before St. Gabriel had another chance to mutter a singular plural, Shedusa adjacently spinned two three hundred and sixty (360°) degree round-house kicks. Spun, and kicked him in the face so hard, [twice] the Archangel's bottom jaw mildly shattered into thirteen sovereign pieces. At least an hour later, jlood finally stopped trickling from the gushing mouth. Each word he said, sounded like tossed coleslaw spewing out of a wondrously clogged garbage disposal.
Cut to: Back to the Archangels. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Alright, 00000000000000000000000000000000000there's eleven of us. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Twelve, 00000000000000000000000000000000000when we disembark. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Depending on St. Gabriel's timing. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Who's blood thirsty for justice? 00000000000000000000000000000000000It seems as though, 00000000000000000000000000000000000everybody would fittingly enjoy making out of this predicament alive tonight? 00000000000000000000000000000000000Am I right about that? 00000000000000000000000000000000000Can someone prove me wrong, 00000000000000000000000000000000000step up right now. 00000000000000000000000000000000000If not, 00000000000000000000000000000000000shut your left-over pie-holes, 00000000000000000000000000000000000listen to me and let's move on. Slapped St. Michael.
The striving volunteers made amends, prepped gear and set forth in leu of seeking what they were after.
The stolen Birth-Stone.
Starving for justness, the skilled killers prepared and ate their last supper. Not really knowing at the time, but harshly accepting that the en masse probably wouldn't survive, whatever circumstances may have arisen. St. Michael gently killed and flame roasted a flock of dangered Falcons skillfully over an open spit. The group shared stories of growing up, awkward situations and life changing moments which defined them as individuals while the kindled fire leisurely roasted. Eating right from the skillet. The combustible kindling crackled, fizzled and popped whereas the coals slowly burnt to a crisp.
Cut to: Eden. Abadoth cautiously escaladed the mildly-saturated and under-exposed escalator leading up to the healthy and developed Palace of Eden. Everything abundantly hung overhead yet forbiddingly restricted ye grand entrance. Thick vines, ultra skinny shrubs, perversely determined plumpy perennials, seductively smoothened carved marble statues, historical deco-buildings and polished soapstone rails helped coaxingly guide him. It was completely hypnotizing, as well helplessly difficult to maneuver or blindly travel through. Likewise, and somehow - he made his trip all the way up to the top. Not before hopelessly tripping on a patch of purple tempera egg-plants which messily blocked the jaded gate and notoriously prevented anybody from entering.
Cut to: Jerusala. INT After the two illusive partisans disjoined, Jerusala cozily relaxed and sat inner throne, situated herself next to a stoked fire and burned tired memories whilst staring flameward at the random sparks. Spent three good minutes reminiscing about the evening's calamitous events and would never get them back. Reminisced about past-time lovers, husbands, life in general, what previously happened and was presently happening. Meanwhile enjoyed a few glasses of aged red-wine, green-grapes and various orange-cheeses, until she took the locket off from around her inviting neck.
Sotted quietly, the Queen of Wisdom drunkenly wandered aweless and faintly pressed the lid. The pendent popped - revealing the skeleton-key. Jerusala understood very well my reasonings of why she was fundamentally chosen, trusted, and given the safe-lock to begin with. For I had complete faith in oneself to rule over ye Western Kingdom without any problems, delays, nor having to grapple the pending scenario which was currently at stake. Come hell or high water; no one could radically persuade the empress otherwise: Should some bold ever try to do such a thing.
Jerusala's scarlet pendent resembled a silver salmon of Llyn Llyw. An archaic fish, sporting elongated gills and rainbow tail. Whose eyes were studded with black pearls and teeth coated in pure white gold. By pressing both gills under the belly simultaneously, the locket opened up a secret compartment. Inside the Salmon's mouth, a platinum key rested on top of the Garnet encrusted tongue.
Cut to: Temple of Life. EXT For the enabled tribe of crackerjack warriors departed their avant-garde ways. Set off to retrieve the missing stone. The crowning of Jeersta and Fezeaulpha would have to take place later on. Seeing as though Abadoth was nowhere in sight.
Cut to: The City of Dead. Shedusa seduced the frivolous knight until he couldn't even walk anymore. Literally. Once repeatedly kicking his sorry ass in, the necromancer forcefully saddled on top with knees spread wide open and trapping endemic boney elbows. It was a very long time, since there had been any sign of cultured life, men, women or anything resembling my divine self afar those regions. And Gabe was an awfully attractive fellow. Before letting him go, left handedly, reached behind her back and pervertedly massaged the looming corpse's testicles. St. Gabriel's eyes immediately shut, glazed over and gleeful tears unceasingly crawled down the pommel's beading face. Shedusa wasn't fooling around, wearing panties, nor any undergarments. So, she carefully unzipped the trousers' zipper and unleashed the exasperated Saint's throbbing erection.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Don't move a solitary muscle. Told Shedusa.
He didn't. Move or breath, just closed eyes, fell embarrassingly limp and enjoyed himself by letting the wicked-witch have her seductive ways. Which would hath been - Shedusa hornily leaning upwards, virgin cunt almost rubbing a whiskery face while keeping close eye contact with St. Gabriel the whole ride. Carefully raised the rear skirt from behind one's dress. Exposing gluttonous derriere cheeks. Feeling the moisture and heat pulsing from the sobbing scabbard, his swelling penis only rose in girth. Anchoring the tip of thy head on thou outer rim of thee labia. Shedusa's vagina and pussy lips naturally wet themselves over, and asphyxiatingly covered the first few inches of the lucky fiend's swollen shaft. Wiggled thusself down a couple of inches or so, and then took the whole instrument within one swift thrusting motion. Smothering far as she possibly could penetrate the lad's baby maker poseidon into the courtesan's stomach. Barely three strokes later, St. Gabriel's blue testicles started pumping the largest load of semen they've ever produced. While Shedusa herself kept grinding ass off. Not knowing at the time, but fresh sperm was impregnating the ovulating womb. A single egg dropped out and made contact with a persistent champ.
Cut to: 13
00000000000000000000000000000000000What's up? Stood Hermes, quite like Hercules seemed to have seemingly been with queerily.ish esque veined hands firmly pressing onward thou gay-ass waist.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Not much at gross this very blind evening, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and you my... Queered Abadoth. When a profound look of confusion began stirring over ye filthy face.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Hermes. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Superior Messenger of Gods - atchyo' service.assistance.rite of a church, 00000000000000000000000000000000000tonight, 00000000000000000000000000000000000tomorrow n' hereafter. Punctuated Hermes before Abadoth neither was able, could, nor had a chance of butting.finishing the unpunctually gayer sentence or any subtle words properly.
00000000000000000000000000000000000But, wait a second, 00000000000000000000000000000000000service, 00000000000000000000000000000000000for what? 00000000000000000000000000000000000If I may say so, 00000000000000000000000000000000000even asking your.my.self - would you there, 00000000000000000000000000000000000Hermes; 00000000000000000000000000000000000Messenger of Gods. Asked Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Just makin' sure y'ain't pullin' any tricks either or foolin' around ye neck of our woods is all, 00000000000000000000000000000000000yo. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Should any of you inferior Yankee Muppet imposters be posingly yanking any stinky twinkies. Fingered Hermes. While smelling his gayest left finger and tapping in-to Abadoth's dirty forehead amidst the right.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I seem quite happy to be alive, 00000000000000000000000000000000000don't mind being myself, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and most certainly AIN'T kidding, 00000000000000000000000000000000000a rabbit nor am I off playing poser hooky, 00000000000000000000000000000000000there kid Hooker-Hermes. Hooked Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Why is it thatchyo' here [pronouncing the word 'here' as "he-awe"] then - hey? Pricked Hermes awhile digging his crooked index fingernail, firstly by burying it deep-in to the fine wrinkles of and upon Abadoth's thoroughly wrinkled scalp.
00000000000000000000000000000000000For a time, 00000000000000000000000000000000000in addition to later on; 00000000000000000000000000000000000lastly I'm visiting me heavenly beloved anon - Anniversary: 00000000000000000000000000000000000Queen of Eden herself, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my young wrinkly and smelly Gaylord. Slid Abadoth despite sliding the fancy stick .of a wand out . its holder.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Y'are.are yah. Yawned Hermes.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I am indeed. Indeeded Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Swell. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Howdja' figure out yer gonna be gettin' over dat old gate over derre, 00000000000000000000000000000000000derre shorty-pants? Bent Hermes, except without actually withstanding the gated entry.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Would you precisely dare, dig, need or be able to assist by giving me a lift across the other side, 00000000000000000000000000000000000should thou question resume undecidedly supposed. Proposed Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Daringly lo, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I could deem and so on, 00000000000000000000000000000000000cease or give you sumthin'new - tall n' all. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Possibly. 00000000000000000000000000000000000'Cept what's in-it for… After gesturing jewelward himself, pitching a mini tent, and three quick steps backwards, Hermes quickly took yet exposed a rather funky looking bare cock whence lifting thy sticky plaid kilt upright itself. Pitched Hermes.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I don't think thus, 00000000000000000000000000000000000forewarn there pervert, 00000000000000000000000000000000000if it doesn't roast, 00000000000000000000000000000000000it doesn't toast… 00000000000000000000000000000000000Nor do I work - put it away. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Ever. Shot Abadoth, amongst almost dry-heaving chunks of raw stomach bile within the entirely incomplete cumbersome process.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Alright, 00000000000000000000000000000000000ay'ight. Agreed Hermes, mid after putting the odorous fetid hindmost under wraps.
It had taken poor Abadoth subordinate age to realize that: in which case; likewise, being trapped and already having heard the awful aforementioned rumors - whereas Hermes thee Almighty-Messenger of Angels was nothing more than a useless pathetic tramp of an unhealthy, disease...bagged prostitute. Even though, clinchy-chinchy Hermes roasted cheaply another rustic chump through Abadoth's sore, wet and bloodshot eye-sockets, he still needed thou lame arses help emptying pockets from the cheaper than cheap-arse-cheapskate donkey himself, with getting inside of ye Emperor's chinky kitchen.
Cut to: Back with the Archangels. Devilishly racing hemselves northward throughout thee abysmally treacherous plateau, adjacently facing westward and heading toward Mount Evil, the fearless mob of eleven non-gallivant soldiers were then drearily captured by formally pacing within a three line formation. Crestedly jaded mountaintops and seasonally ripe pine trees, flooded the blurred-out horizon, draped over sepia tones of majestic magenta, opera orange and gruesome green earthly spread apart inept said scene: Which included none other than, five saddleback-ridden riders riding five steadily ready mares; and the six thick land based troopers paced along foot. The race horses comfortably rode between and inset the middle, whilst three hefty warriors raced evenly beside per standpoint.
And the night begun curdling.
Hierarchically leading, the field commander correlatingly commanded his troops as he led the group; fearlessly inset the forest: and was being visualized through St. Raphael's own perspective - from directly behind him.
Angelically, this seraphic vision had been thoroughly recorded in half-time, with St. Michael gallantly trotting a few paste-stadia ahead rather magnificently on an appropriately tamed beast named Amber, when the leader affrap Archangels gently raised his right hand ceasing the men to stop.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Cease! Ceased St. Michael.
The team bracingly prepared itself and began stopping.
St. Michael cautiously turned around while facing the correlation as the tribe stopped amongst their tracks.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Steady now. Faced St. Michael.
The volunteers steadied.
00000000000000000000000000000000000St. Gabriel is missing, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and I've got a gut-feeling something terrible could've happened to him. Felt St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Such as? Inquieted St. Raphael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Dunno ??? 00000000000000000000000000000000000Whatever it is and am not quite sure at this footing. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Nub, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I sense this sneaking suspicion that he would've or might desperately need help and may susceptibly be in-some-kind-of-trouble. 00000000000000000000000000000000000So, 00000000000000000000000000000000000we had better correlate and get to the bottom of thou rubble. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Yah follow? Snook St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I sure do… 00000000000000000000000000000000000Reassure you, 00000000000000000000000000000000000AND feel for our dearest St. Gabriel there - dear St. Michael. Reassured St. Raphael amidst un-saddling himself, yet carefully sliding downst the sweaty blue-blooded creature.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Like I spaketh before hand, chumps. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Everybody standing should've listened to me for an Omega or two. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I'm gonna be sending St. Raphael out and about, 00000000000000000000000000000000000actively seeking St. Gabriel himself. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Does anybody have a problem with that? 00000000000000000000000000000000000If so, 00000000000000000000000000000000000reply hemself. Hemselved St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Nay. Replied each journeyman, journalary replying thyself one after thounother.
Transition: EXT. Two larger Suns and three smaller Moons ecliptically scraped and aligned themselves afar off the endless aurora Sky. Creating a perplexingly unique borealis where the rain came down much more heavier as the third day of Omega 14 was steadily threatening.
Cut to: Indication of Abadoth and Hermes. Firstly, once Abadoth calmly reinserted the wand inside its holster, had then come to terms, realization as well conclusion with the whole benign situation, Messenger and therefore Hermes himself gladly helped the elf get across thou shelf and over thy sturdy gate. When pressing both heels evenly delphwards, the pennon flowing slippers could sickly make the unhealthy germ fly vast mid-air by hovering or floating above, vastly depending on their proper skill-sets for thee worm's everlasting courage, raw feelings and more-so deathlessly gloating love.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Hold on. Hung Hermes.
aHolding on amid hugging beyond, a2rather tightly - Hermes snugged ALL-mightily from behind yet throwing two-five leathery tenderloin-fingered gloves around ye Dwarf's pearly carriage-sack, bgirlish lion-hips and chubby six-pack. cCarousingly, c2pressed twain feet Earthward and they started to hover right there inner space.
dNearly reaching top-forth the entrance, eHermes briskly reached beltwardly below and gave Abadoth's small balls a firm lemmon squeeze and a big sloppy kiss on the back of one's greasy neckline.
fAbadoth wasn't up for .any immature corny foolishness, f2henceforth the adversary elbowed Hermes' rib cage a few times trying to prevent . further molestation. f3Although by doing such a thing, f4only caused the perverted stalker to severely lose most balance, f5grip and serration which made thoust pimp, f6almost drop thy wimp, f7within the sensationally entrapping floatation.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Do you mind, 00000000000000000000000000000000000that's awfully... (except before finishing Hermes was able to scoop-in and give the poon a few spoonfully forceful dry-humps sliding humbly 'tween Abadoth's plumpy derriere cheeks) … 00000000000000000000000000000000000rude, 00000000000000000000000000000000000foul and disgusting of you fool, 00000000000000000000000000000000000please stop, 00000000000000000000000000000000000nor would I enjoy that; 00000000000000000000000000000000000tramp: 00000000000000000000000000000000000Don't! Whimpered Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Sowwy, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I couldn't resist, 00000000000000000000000000000000000ma'self, 00000000000000000000000000000000000yo. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Wouldn'tcha know-ooo? Apologized Hermes, meanwhile utmost drooling straight liquid perversion.
Narration.Poor Abadoth shouldn't've acknowledged such growing sensations against his stinky buttercup the entire trip up. But he did and wasn't sure if Hermes came or not, even though eventually sensing an unusually sticky wet-spot.
Lastly, coming down was an entirely different story, as per almost falling out of the boundaries ineptly a-wayside and in embarrassingly impendent glory.
Cut to: The City of Dead. AttackSt. Gabriel laid there lifeless, bhardly breathing short kernelly breaths through bloodied mucus spit-bubbles which popped accordingly and penetrated out Zen mouth slowly, csurely, deffectively yet affectively subtle - every solitary word he tried to mutter. eSucceeding their departure, fShedusa left the raped Archangel right where they η. gfornicated. DecayExcept not before, bmaking sure she got her sinfully ghastful ways. cDeep in the nook of a skull. dCoursingly interluded whilst lying semi-naked, enearly-dead, ffluidly drained, gand soaking within muddy puddles. SustainThe unfortunate vagabond, bsomehow managed to stay alive. cJust barely hanging on, dhence yelping a single laugh or muttering cries for help seemed next to anon, enor realistic during those modest moments of crippling weakness. fEspecially since more than fifty average-sized nervous druids kept watching amidst the sound-ground and Gabriel's weakened legs were lightly butter and couldn't move, gor wouldn't have been able to actually walk until that final witching hour became a fact. g2When it at long last was, g3factually clocked over after having crawled amuck to Arabia who patiently waited, g4thoroughly readied his accumbency and carefully prepared for the shmuk's arrival. g5Thence began protectively walking untoward him. ReleaseStraddling a leg deemed impossible while attempting to climb one, bso the white stallion properly knelt down and virtually propped Gabe up by softly maneuvering the crippled Saint back into full bare-saddled position.
And the pair η.had then taken and walked for the last time ever together.
Cut to: Back with the Archangels. St. Raphael snuck out a few more miscellaneous items from various saddle-bags hidden underneath the other riders' mustangs that would hath included: two ordinary medical kits, one regular crossbow and three irregular strapped pouches which held twenty-four arrows per holster. The first pouch carried bronze darts, the second - silver, and the third - gold. As well he brought ƒorthwith him, four different jugs containing freshly purified holy-water, seasonal fruit and some thirty-six odd feet of natural-fibred rope. Made amends while shaking the prized journeymen's hands, as if it were a suggestion via correction, whereas it could potentially be the last time they may ever see, been or shared with one another.
00000000000000000000000000000000000St. Michael. Wailed St. Raphael.
St. Michael never, nor didn't answer the call himself, instead just stood his domain and looked at St. Raphael fiercely between the eye-sockets.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I will see ALL of you again my lord, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and brothers. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Once I have found our lost soul, 00000000000000000000000000000000000St. Gabriel that is. Sought St. Raphael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I'm sure. Thought St. Michael.
St. Raphael had then caressingly harnessed a brownish horse with cream colored legs named Abigail, carefully wrapped up the remainder of supplies and solely trotted off to find St. Gabriel.
Cut to: Indication of Abadoth and Hermes. Nearly fumbling the morally wrong way downwards, ↓ the two missionaries finally made it safely back on the ground and after mainly agreeing about no sexual contact, behavior nor relation. Began tumbling, running and prancing atop ye stationed ↔ ledges, onwards either side of thou water that night which spread all around the mischievous hedges. Being an impressive spectacle for any temperatured creature to earwitness', absorb, experience or could have ever partook-in. Thee Palace of Eden, dousing in Sin. Yahweh lonesome Sun bodingly rose and two desolate moons shimmered behind the strengthened donjon, as loons called their wail, ducks started tailing - rainbow trout within the swampy Minaceous pond.
Faraway was the miniate entrance and would have been splendidly grand, seen ethically from above, wrought below while viewed throughout the mighty land. A monstrous screen fan woven out of bamboo twine, screened with redder than red lead ηink of smoked Siamese Chinese fighting fish and coated in translucent pink Animant oil blocked the unforgiving archway. Details were thinly outlined in blackη.
Score/Soundscape. Empty pianos being righteously plucked accordingly should be plucking withis thin score, heard empirically wailing in the background as the plebs seemingly approached ye cheeky Emperor's secluded door.
Cut to: The City of Dead. St. Gabriel wasn't able to deliver the bold message unto Shedusa, although left him with a miniature map pinpointing directions toward the unmarked grave, since she already knew about thou reasoning for visiting and needn't really bother questioning the contrived victim.
He followed the beeline, an unfamiliar mixture beginning at the Terrace of Painted Traits, a seclusive trail which then wound around several knee-deep riverbeds enriched from sulfur, where salt water gushed as the windy breeze hushed and was ever so cool when it broze. Leaves selfishly plunged off poplar trees whilst adjacently scattered themselves freely against the obliquely pebbled shore, benumb rocks and hot lava forlorn.
Little did St. Gabriel know, care or was aware that the eavesdropping druids had been following his every movement. Also, a colony of massive prehistoric-looking vultures were trailing as well, luring, and circling the lonesome target. Meaning, ill-fated ole' Gabe seemed like a pawned King, frozen on a chessboard full of Queens.
Cut to: 14
Cut to: Transition/Shot. aTwenty handbreadth infuse thews lead, St. Michael rode thou feisty quarter-bred filly and piggy-backed Jeersta that perversely led the pack, bat thy heels of, ctrailing closely rearward and acutely nestled with each others' Jewish leader - forming the Angelic Council was and were: dSt. Uriel, ebacking Alice whom togetherly wrestled Fezeaulpha, fSt. Sealtiel leading Anastasia whose back deemed fit to carry Murzachae, gSt. Jegudiel guiding Alexia who carried Nichan a great distance while St. Barachiel kept riding Annie ∑ which in conclusion had been carrying Rhelbus thus situative juncture afar.
Setting. All these left-fieldishly abrasive tingling sensations rang right-amongst thy tinging prolations while mammoth sized sabre-toothed Animants rung out at the pinging moons, howling scenario and unsettlingly offsetting notations.
Cut to: 鸡或蛋 Iblis and the Dragon's Egg. His unevenly severed leg critically lost a staggering amount of oozing ηclud, crude energy yet crucially begun writhing since rendezvousing with the Para-Sleech and Devilish Vixen earlier that preemptively critical meeting. Hence, redeeming oneself near midnight and later on trudging through an oily sandpit or sunken pothole, Iblis staggered over to a freshly watered stream where he washed up clean and redeemed thyself in pools of drunken penal water, asp; thrivingly bathed skin-naked down within the sloping meniscusy soil. Nerve-racking laughter dampened the canyon as ye former Host thought about what'd happened, hoping for thou best and not thy worst-case scenario which might've unexpectably entrapped him. Asphyxiated within moil and drowning in sorrow, there was no going back, nor forgetting tomorrow. So, Iblis trudged correspondingly and conclusively - couldn't perambulate properly until the nervous vermin cauterized another cleeding laceration, ax the abrasive ηæfentid nonchalantly writhed forwardly abrade with my iridescent Sky chafing into a rosy champagne orange.
SWAP: Back at the Temple of Life/Narration/Scene. INT. The Queen of Honey sot friendless by her-worn-out-self. Busily alone, frightfully sulking, and Down's syndrome esque bawling aloud whilst moaning intramurally dumbfound inside an elders' throne off to the west corner frowning and heedfully combing - hair, within thy acoustically engineered théatron as thee third day of Omega 14 belatedly dawned. Mary's electric flesh appeared eclectically anemic up close in comparison and furthermore suggested to be almost fine≈pruning itself at long last from far away. Boiling, blistering, bursting liquid-ooze throughout the unmarred place, enlarged pores and crusty orifices cled howbeit remotely trying to cover thou inbred face with some gooey plague-blocking-cream, but she wasn't fooling anybody, because the oldest pearly white robe I had given her was cohesively Τuning a penumbra of cadmium red.
Cut to: The Bridge of Amber. EXT. ΑThee buckish rustic harmonies of five lambasted and overly-worked skull-fucked horse heads hap trampling to a lavishing stop; zealously blacked-out this everlasting shot, ante thrusting the creaky bridge forlorn. ΒThy sporadic Field Commander automatically scorned his fellow men as he consciously entrusted them to mechanically pursue him alongst side, conquering the intrusive brigade until thou interrupting, indecent and meddlesome Fall of Man. ΓYe soaking frame of reference pans diagonally southeastwards till its inertial point of view hits multiple pairs of mud covered hooves, grassy knolls and pebbled turf, all naturally soaked in flaky-ashes which were also sporadically tinted with dusky lavender.
Split Screen: Iblis vs. the Archangels. αIblis practically made it ten-folds astraddle thy wicked Bridge of Amber, except not before the godlike messengers had carousingly arrived at the south-gated entryway. βSt. Michael stopped them dead in their practical pursuits, even traded Sioux territorial pissing, in lieu of looking him directly eye level as the hive ceased and he came to a hobbling limp on the rickety termite-infested planks. γThe opposing rivals generously tramped at one another's posing stature up and down for those few good cranks, when the Team's husky conductor then innocently drew a short-trumpet crafted out of stainless brass abroad, aggressively forewarning his men to ready their herpetic asses and therefore inanimately blew.
So they did.
Transition: Dialogue. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Who goes there, 00000000000000000000000000000000000tramp? Bellowed St. Michael. From across the villainous canyon.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Aye wants to know, 00000000000000000000000000000000000heir? Lowered Iblis.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I, 00000000000000000000000000000000000for one; 00000000000000000000000000000000000am: 00000000000000000000000000000000000St. Michael - Field Commander of Archangels at your presence. 00000000000000000000000000000000000They'… [pointing at the Archangels] …re my personal assailants. 00000000000000000000000000000000000And you? Presented St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Oh really. 00000000000000000000000000000000000How's God - IEHOVAH these Omegas? Yelled Iblis.
00000000000000000000000000000000000None thy shabby, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I dare-say. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Why'dja wanna know? Aided St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Just curious, 00000000000000000000000000000000000none the furious. Cured Iblis.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Back at'cha, 00000000000000000000000000000000000again where're'yah planning to go there, 00000000000000000000000000000000000huh, 00000000000000000000000000000000000ugh, 00000000000000000000000000000000000what'dja say your name was? Gained St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I didn't, 00000000000000000000000000000000000have told nor disclosed … my name. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Or whatever. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Why should I even bother telling you that kind of heather? 00000000000000000000000000000000000Hey. Heathered Iblis.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I'm on a mission you could say, 00000000000000000000000000000000000heed to find some …[pause]… bod-thing. Heeded St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Oh yah. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Mephistopheles? Faustus? Or one of ye seven devils... 00000000000000000000000000000000000Who and what exactly is it that you and your fuckin' fruitcakes over there would be heeding for? Healed Iblis, while tilting his illusive head in curiosity, improbable feet bracing nether him and defensively pointing the Staff of Sabazios he was holding manward at the glaring set of assholes.
00000000000000000000000000000000000King Iblis. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Host of ye Northern Kingdom. Defended St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Is that right. Allied Iblis.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Apparently, 00000000000000000000000000000000000he may've taken some-mmm' that wasn't his or belonged ta' him in the first place. Spat St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000As in… Spit Iblis.
00000000000000000000000000000000000A stone. 00000000000000000000000000000000000A stolen Birth-Stone. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Once used to power ye Northern Kingdom for all righteous reasons me faggy. 00000000000000000000000000000000000You wouldn't happen to know anything about said tempter, treasons and missing item, 00000000000000000000000000000000000wouldja … whatever yer undisclosed name is, 00000000000000000000000000000000000maggot? Shelved St. Michael.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Maybe … maybe-not. Delved Iblis. Upon looking the jagged league up and down.
Iblis unhurriedly turned around and started humbly stumbling freeward ye prison-less Delph, as St. Jegudiel encouragingly stepped forth, courageously readied thyself and haughtily spake withlike:
"Move out of my way, fellas",
harshly jumped off his armoured horse and wipped out a hawkishly braided whip as the enamoured array vicariously moved yet let him do whatever he was de facto going to be doing.
Cut to: Scene/Shot/Narration. Thus would've keenly been: Sprinting apace bridgeward than one could've possibly sprinted and pursuing the escaped convict whilst bountifully leaping towards three shady panels nimbly bracing ye southern jamb. δ Granted, when the angel's limbs began sprinting uppity the wooden limber, for the perplexed saint himself only needed five heroic bounces to succeed crosswise the six-winged suspension alive. Pending the fifth bounce, landing opposingly offensive while just hovering above him and before Iblis even thoroughly had a decent cast of the bait; St. Jegudiel snappingly cracked his lengthy cat-o'-nine-tails which lustfully went flying. So by the time he landed safely on the opposite bank, baited the catch and sent it home, the softened suede tail end for that specific weapon already firmly wrapped around the dirty-thief's mid-kidney region. Persuading Iblis to stay where the swanky criminal was, at least two thirds shy of the north-exit, as the foul yet obtrusive Swamp of Sevender cascading down below molted stainless teal.
SWAP: Backstep/Vision. When Iblis digressively ran across the swaying gangplank, this distinguishing mural (and camera angle) should've swaggerly captured forthcoming vision by following its perverted aggressor instinctively in the deliberate movement of an overly-forceful and perpetually-accelerated attacking archdiosese. ε Swirling, decaying, sagging and cranking around the suspending bridge, quite similar to how the All-Mighty Unicleus Sequence appears from the outside-ingress. Wrapping open enigmatically. Although, sustaining counter-clockwise measures yet still traveling progressively forward. Back-stepping his close-minded antipathetic run in spite of releasing St. Jegudiel's profound bouncing when he chronologically pounced atop him spewing copious amounts thereof envious green.
FILM: Close up. Despite Iblis' embarrassing perversion, bruised ego and wounded leg, it snapped right therefore yet then - on deck. Like hardened clockwork. Broken bones should be protrusively flapping out of folded skin and lumpy blood spewing from revealing wounds. ζ He could feel the charming misty air blowing icy drafts through exposed marrow and would have submittingly fallen as the nimble peacemaker's seasoned rawhide finally caught up with him whilst his softening backbone gradually shifted a pale yellow.
For those of the egotistical, and their bodies to be critically; burned: upon entering an incinerator O my.
Cut to: Attack15
-11812521440094320022834001150257642463278 Narration/Setting/Mood. Resentfully, the antisocial acropolis wis a far cry from dieing than the mediocre Palace of Wisdom or any additional auxiliary commonwealth tent as she had been vitally mapped-out back then for cyclicly augmenting all spinelessly significant breeds of waxy vegetables, cyclical ingredients and numerous integral supplements unsparingly cycled to Omega 14. Therefore: ∴ exosporous toxic poison ivy coherently camouflaged thou chunky poisoned viny surfaces with scaly-bulbed foliage and sporadically supple Plantae roughly concealed thy painstakingly tremendous alcazar in front of her supplementary poisonous vegetative crops.
Cut to: Wide-Angle/Medium Format SHOTS. WAMameday arrogantly discussing shear sugarcoated goodbyes, gluttonously consuming a few salty panned flies and persuasively coming to neutral terms, Hermes the tenacious faggot left Abadoth's baggy self right where they uncomfortably were, MFenduringly seesawed at the plainly-oxidized, wind-ridden, unduly-rusty and rain-stained larvae-infested Holy Door.
Transition: SWAP. DecayBroadly dissolved hollowish knocking dully douched within reverbed cocking should be hellishly amplified as Abadoth lightly knocked to one hollow sector on the heavy metal knocker which would hath strictly resembled a premature dwarfed Penjing.
Clangk. Clangk. Clangk.
When Abadoth clanked.
So the frank clank again.Annexing a bit more efforce thad time.
Shot. Abadoth himself peacefully wretched outward for the enticingly warped handle, meaning he could barely get ahold of tie as another wimpy barring appendage eagerly swung outta nowhere and in toto feebly smacked his.
It was David. Host of Eden.
David, once a-bang-on master of trades, skilled craftsman and an awfully gentle-man wuz the one whom Mary & Co. had trustfully anointed to watch over and securely foster ye Eastern Kingdom. He sported a rough and rugged physique which connected with every bloody thing, loved by all as well adored by any sensible female throughout Omega 14, even Salone - the worn out crooked wench and her watchful male Draconis thuddingly thought so too.
Transition: Dialogue. Sustain00000000000000000000000000000000000Shalom there young lad. Greeted David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Greetings to ye. Salaamed Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Can I help you unearth heresy? Molded David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Yes. I'm here to see Anniversary. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Queen of Eden, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my lord. Scolded Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I might know where she lies, 00000000000000000000000000000000000may thou be upright and honestly scold who ye are then? Sculpted David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000My own proffer name's Abadoth, 00000000000000000000000000000000000sent to... Inveigh, before he was able to finish his flattering decree, David preposterously invaded therein and prophetically finished it off for him.
00000000000000000000000000000000000...Meet Queen Anniversary and collect the Crown of Fishelm I'm guessing. 00000000000000000000000000000000000For I, 00000000000000000000000000000000000David, 00000000000000000000000000000000000Host of Eden am antecedently aware, 00000000000000000000000000000000000pater Abadoth. Secured David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000How so? Excepted Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000IEHOVAH, 00000000000000000000000000000000000thee: 00000000000000000000000000000000000Almighty-Lord GOD sent us telepathic instructions earlier on unto every aristocratic Matriarch and Patriarch statically psyched within Eden including myself. Expected David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I see. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Would you be able to reiterate, 00000000000000000000000000000000000show us the way, 00000000000000000000000000000000000or take me there? Inquisited Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I could, 00000000000000000000000000000000000except what's in it for myself? Guided David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000What do want? Accepted Abadoth. Thinking: 'Here we go again...'.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Not a thing. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I's only joshing and scrupulously noticed your fro clicking beside our delightful forerunner Hermes, 00000000000000000000000000000000000beforehand, 00000000000000000000000000000000000slob. 00000000000000000000000000000000000So, 00000000000000000000000000000000000to answer thy question rheum - I'm quite sure, 00000000000000000000000000000000000should already know and am thoroughly confident of what thou went... 00000000000000000000000000000000000errr... 00000000000000000000000000000000000had to go through that is. 00000000000000000000000000000000000From overly yonder ... [pointing toward another dim-lit building] ... inside ye rheumy watchtower. Laughed David.
ReleaseWhen a sporadic hymn out of nowhere exasperatingly flooded the windswept air and ordinarily broke the eerie silence inside their troubled minds by conclusively squealing:
00000000000000000000000000000000000Bring em' to me, 00000000000000000000000000000000000right hitherto; 00000000000000000000000000000000000David: 00000000000000000000000000000000000NOW!Delay: X3 Bolted Anniversary.
-1342367-1558592-2768480187083214400414720226852442043364 Cut to: Scene. For her thunderously charged verbalization cinematically thrilled the cinemascopic projection until even more thrashing rain, phosphoresce lightening and palpitating thunder filled the boisterous stratosphere as she objectively signed two categorical hallway passes while catastrophically summoning the emptied patriots upstairs.
David, keeper for my Garden of Earthly Delights forensically navigated Abadoth traverse the frightful and foretic passageway coercing toward the taunting Palace of Eden. Cut to: INT.It was there and then when he met the pen and rest of the mighty council.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Allo. Grated David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Cheese. Cheered the cabinet.
From there stanza satted: Anniversary; Queen of Eden, James; Host of Emperors, Jacob; Host of Angels, Jesse; Host of Virga and Pétros; Host of Nature, were all formattically situated wire somatically sitting within a noticeably proud, loud and stifling throne.
Cut to: EXT. Arabia's good time and St. Gabriel's bad luck. Transition: Narration/Scene. Arabia painfully strutted a minor limp at that bone-chilling instance, yet only three of his fractured hooves achingly swelled whilst he somewhat hobbled throughout the electrifying tundra whereas St. Gabriel loosely sat atop of him, by keeping watch, guard and attention for anything else popping up off yon which might have been stalking, prowling or hunting the lawn - nearby, when; sounds of muddied footsteps: slapping over mossy logs should behavingly derive behind them in the unknown cinemascope.
SHOT. AttackSt. Gabriel bravely turned leftwards and there were twelve anemic druids shepherding six packs of multicolored rabid-dogs gravely making their eclectic way down towards the dyslexic conundrum, rider and horse. DecayThey appeared to be covered with earthly substances where worm-eaten leaves, larvae-infested vines and hairy-rope made of twine, mostly wrapped around fragile limbs which cumbersomely fastened makeshift clothing on malnourished bodies. SustainAlmost appearing as though each crucial one had leprosy and every so often rancid tissue, raw tendons and stringy ligaments would teasingly flash through drooping flesh under raggedy torn clothes and shoddy sheathed barbaric linens.
ReleaseBoth Arabia and St. Gabriel span a full One Hundred Eighty degree (180°) turn and slowly faced the primitive audience.
Without questioning thou nappy exigency, the two candidly prepared themselves for whatever was about to happen next.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Can we help y'all wiff sumthin'...? Yelped St. Gabriel as smoggy fog entered, tumbled and suffused within the merry go-roundish, cloudily and bulbous ravine.
The particularly dumbfounded, crowded and humbled druid family rowdily stared back at their expecting prey even more fonder.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I guess not. Forethought St. Gabriel. After modestly wiping thy proudest left sleeve overtop of one's oleaginous forehead.
Parenthesis aRight therefore yet then, three-overly bear-hungry scavengers swooped on in calling a call, barely appalling, nor cackling at all and mundanely called upon thee walking doll to relapse. bGive up. cSurrender and fall. But he didn't, Gabe signaled for the twosome journalists to scram, so once again, Arabia himself did; forwardly moved: like no other creature could ever run and outmaneuvered every last string, molecule and atom.
Cut to: OverHead/Wide Angle/Close Up SHOTS. OHAtomically not ere four starving vultures aerodynamically swept feverishly horseward and conflictingly tripped the mental-cases amidst their absconding tracks. St. Gabriel quickly went flying overboard and landed chest-first inset the sludgy mud as WAArabia condescendingly stumbled, timbered and hooked his slobbery mouth against the waxy strip losing five tartar-coated front CUteethOf bloody gums. during thy whole trip-out.
Score/Soundscape. A constant, deafening and derivative tone of the musical note F#6 must be heard ringing awhile hearing another rhythmic heart-beating cadence in the well-timed score.
Shot and Vision. One of the male juice-thirsty carnivores got ahold of St. Gabriel's bare neck and he forcefully stung an infected claw innermost of his pulsating jugular vein. Arabia protectively saw this lifeless fight and started hellishly rearing, stomping and treading down on the pesky condor's maggoty frown, protecting him while crippling the aggressive varment until it couldn't permissively fly anymore.
Shot: Close up. Chunks of raw beak, cartilage and brain matter covered the entirety of Arabia's sunken underbelly.
For the permissive female threesome flew off north of the winded, candid and nearly slaughtered cartel. Their carnivorous, predatory and deathful spunk lasted no longer.
Blood streamed out of St. Gabriel's spurting prism in streams of cadmium jellies.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Arabia! Bled St. Gabriel.
Arabia trainfully knelt.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Oof. Spurt St. Gabriel.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Come here boy, 00000000000000000000000000000000000c'm'ere. 00000000000000000000000000000000000B'careful. 00000000000000000000000000000000000It stings, 00000000000000000000000000000000000ooof ... [trying to take quick breaths in and out] ... oooof. 00000000000000000000000000000000000It kills, 00000000000000000000000000000000000it HURTS sooo much! 00000000000000000000000000000000000And I can't breathe. Wilted St. Gabriel.
For an agonizingly short period, he laid there alongside of oneself and never tilted a singular muscle whilst his master plurally suffocated and weakly spurted all kinds of organically plasmic juices. Gulping, gagging yet gasping for air, St. Gabriel wiped tears out of their eyes and combed Arabia's long, flowing, scraggly mane via sticky red fingers at the same time watched the trained marauder despairingly weep in tortuously sorrowful likings.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Lift me laddie and let's get outta here. Gasped St. Gabriel.
Arabia wholly bent earthwards, sturdily lifted him up as well politely readied to leave while Gabe cleverly plugged the bleeding sore with several black and white, checkered pocket-hankies.
They weren't very far away now pertaining to where the vehement Flammenschwert rudely lie in wait.
Rain pitifully pitter-pattered and soaked the so-called mess of outlandish heroes which conjointly blended their bodily fluids inelegant splashes of wetted remorse.
Cut to: INT. Back to the haunting Palace of Eden. Transition: Narration/Objective. Τhus stated before bon the dauntingly perplexed, ℜavishingly scarce yeti dire predicaments whichever were at stake, τhy forbidden Council of Eden had already known from myselfweh, τhe Almighty-LORD God - αwaking thereupon benignly by informing them earlier on that Abadoth hisself was initially summoned to retrieve the Crown of Fishelm hidden within her outermost precious Palace, ςo Anniversary skipped the small-talk as she eagerly jumped right-in to the point, çlarification and heart of the ripe subjects for the outré taking.
00000000000000000000000000000000000You look like hell could've been readily raked overlord by a hardened miscarriage it seems. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Are you feeling your-better-self, 00000000000000000000000000000000000our timid Abadoth? Chimed Anniversary.
Anniversary's awakening voice sounds an awful-lot-alike various impressions of many howling winds and next-door fences, banging loudly against leaf-filled branches in summer at dawn as several Suns arrose, shine and foreverishly set beyond merrily capped mountains over emerald esque lawns and grassy-greened-growing-landscapes.
SWAP: Dialect/Objection. Attack00000000000000000000000000000000000As good as anyone may insignificantly feel, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my matriarch. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Notwithstanding any louder, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I could be far worse, 00000000000000000000000000000000000pillaged or left-for-dead Queen Anniversary, 00000000000000000000000000000000000but to answer you respectively ensuing everything I've somehow tackled these past few softened hours, 00000000000000000000000000000000000let us reassure, 00000000000000000000000000000000000summarize and concur; 00000000000000000000000000000000000that: 00000000000000000000000000000000000forworn the grappling moment - I'm proudly doing thy absolute best. Concurred Abadoth, as he blew his snotty-nostrils inside a cyan, magenta and yellow striped hanky.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Good stuff, 00000000000000000000000000000000000good stuff...
..Thought Anniversary whilst raking thoust smelliest, dirtiest yet longest fingernails on the chair's smoky, blackish and shellac-coated armrests..
00000000000000000000000000000000000...So, 00000000000000000000000000000000000you're here for the Crown of Fishelm. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Yore whet forlorn do you furthersome require thither than me fluffy, 00000000000000000000000000000000000fluffy wondrous self? 00000000000000000000000000000000000You'ren't hungry, 00000000000000000000000000000000000haven't thou eaten? Boasted Anniversary, as she motioned altoward James.
Shot: Close up of Anniversary toasting her solid crystal wine glass against James'. One gently chiming the other.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Well, 00000000000000000000000000000000000t'wasn't truly a legitimate request from KING-IEHOVAH per se, 00000000000000000000000000000000000nor legislative, 00000000000000000000000000000000000although I'd appreciate it kindly if I'd snake the Sword of Jacob foreseeing my own triumphant return rake the Palace of Truth/Temple of Life. 00000000000000000000000000000000000In case there wain't any other discrepancies along the way. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Besides, 00000000000000000000000000000000000umm... 00000000000000000000000000000000000rampant Animants, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my aid. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I ate some fairly musky caterpillars a few hours ago and am jestfully starving I'd genuinely belate. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I'm betting you are aware of Fishelm? Detested Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Sure, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and lest we mightily, 00000000000000000000000000000000000mightily disremember about said noise, 00000000000000000000000000000000000though, 00000000000000000000000000000000000let me foretell and remind you of its pure power first, 00000000000000000000000000000000000scamp. Aborted Anniversary as she looked at James; Host of Emperors for his approval of her latest decision.
James honestly scanned the room, and no-one really seemed to be against ther sporty idea.
He outlandishly approved and contemporarily nodded in-justly agreement.
Decay00000000000000000000000000000000000The blade was handmade, 00000000000000000000000000000000000using several shades of fused aluminum by Jacob; 00000000000000000000000000000000000many, 00000000000000000000000000000000000many multi-moons ago. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Mixed with copper, 00000000000000000000000000000000000magnesium and zinc alloys. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Being light in weight helped swordsmen endure their egotistically charged attitudes in-to proper strengths afar off heading towards those old wartime-battles, 00000000000000000000000000000000000lamp. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Whence inside, 00000000000000000000000000000000000the archaic soul of an arctic lost angel abides within which ultimately fuses the harmonized compounds altogether. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Then, 00000000000000000000000000000000000with and when both hands are firmly pressed on the handle, 00000000000000000000000000000000000a sudden wave of ice-crystals snowballingly penetrate, 00000000000000000000000000000000000carve and slice through the underneath side of its shank. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Easily slicing any materials, 00000000000000000000000000000000000objects and beings hard or soft absorbing thy weapon's impact. Refreshed Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Holy shit! Puked Abadoth... 00000000000000000000000000000000000But, 00000000000000000000000000000000000why did they call, 00000000000000000000000000000000000er... 00000000000000000000000000000000000why is it named the Sword... 00000000000000000000000000000000000of Fire zen, 00000000000000000000000000000000000instead of the Sword... 00000000000000000000000000000000000of Ice or something? Belated the questioner.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Because, 00000000000000000000000000000000000it appears to be a positive flame, 00000000000000000000000000000000000whitish in color and heats up like nobody's business. Chilled Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Hmmth... 00000000000000000000000000000000000Interesting. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Very interesting, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I must and can only imagine. Rested Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Do you know where it is now, 00000000000000000000000000000000000retard? Renewed Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000No, 00000000000000000000000000000000000I don't. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Where-be-it? Worked Abadoth.
00000000000000000000000000000000000It's neighboring; 00000000000000000000000000000000000by no means and God-forbid will she be an easy task for thou to wear. Sported Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000I heresy wouldn't expect nothing less by my watch, 00000000000000000000000000000000000me lassie. Except, what's the catch? Mourned Abadoth.
Overruled00000000000000000000000000000000000An old-twenty-two. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Thitherto'sn't one. 00000000000000000000000000000000000It shouldn't be terribly difficult to find, 00000000000000000000000000000000000residing, 00000000000000000000000000000000000binding and hiding inside of the brethren lair on the east quadrant fairly settled within ye Garden of Earthly Delights. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Heir David; 00000000000000000000000000000000000won't you show him how to get there for us? 00000000000000000000000000000000000Accept these facts, 00000000000000000000000000000000000ramp, 00000000000000000000000000000000000firstly, 00000000000000000000000000000000000you'll have to climb the scary, 00000000000000000000000000000000000scary ladder after Jacob's Well located outside of the negative entrance. 00000000000000000000000000000000000The weighted gate was sealed shut by Pétros; 00000000000000000000000000000000000Host of Nature and Abyloneness: 00000000000000000000000000000000000Queen of ye Southern Kingdom with protruding iron rods unto prevent any devious-outside intruders a medium, 00000000000000000000000000000000000medium-time ago, 00000000000000000000000000000000000desperados. 00000000000000000000000000000000000So, 00000000000000000000000000000000000David, 00000000000000000000000000000000000Host of Eden, 00000000000000000000000000000000000please court Mr. Abadoth to his alluring, 00000000000000000000000000000000000soughtful and appropriate destination. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Please and thank-you. Flicked Anniversary, intra picking thy nose.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Of course and my pleasure, 00000000000000000000000000000000000he'll be fine Queen Anniversary. Weaved David and Abadoth in and out of the wavy nave on an epic journey to retrieve the ceaseless Sword of Fire.
00000000000000000000000000000000000David. Commemorated Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Yes? Commenced David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Don't forget to take him by our spoiled east dining room stationed within the south corridor and make sure you fill his empty guts with broiled Anointed-Animeat, 00000000000000000000000000000000000delectable Creamed-Clams and fresh Eagle-Eggs 'till he's righteously full, 00000000000000000000000000000000000damp. Chafed Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Will do, 00000000000000000000000000000000000will do. Withered David.
00000000000000000000000000000000000James. Posed Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Anniversary. Woke James.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Whatsoever does everybody think about this wickedly utter-yoke nonsense, 00000000000000000000000000000000000hey - jerk-faces? Rose Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Appears to be utmost nonsensical to me, 00000000000000000000000000000000000and you? 00000000000000000000000000000000000A joke almost. 00000000000000000000000000000000000How could Iblis even contemplate doing such a benignant thing? Opened James.
00000000000000000000000000000000000We'll have to wait and see. 00000000000000000000000000000000000I haven't any lifelike feelings. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Not at all, 00000000000000000000000000000000000nor one bit, 00000000000000000000000000000000000by no means. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Especially after IEHOVAH's intentful preachings and told us what hadpened for ye Western Kingdom. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Anybody? Closed Anniversary as she peered around the ghastly navel.
Nobody stepped up.
00000000000000000000000000000000000That's great, 00000000000000000000000000000000000just ... (the word 'fucking' is echoed: X6) ... 00000000000000000000000000000000000great. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Jacob. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Walk down hereabouts for a quieter moment, 00000000000000000000000000000000000would you. Awoke Anniversary.
Overhead Shot. Jacob made his unduly way south to Anniversary's stifling throne.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Problems, 00000000000000000000000000000000000dear Anniversary? Wondered Jacob.
ReleaseAnniversary's lengthy arm ceaselessly lifted and flirtingly begun lightly petting the left side of Jacob's fairly large-face and charmingly chubby cheek with the reverse side of her extended right hand while his flushing skin began rosily clamming.
00000000000000000000000000000000000They're a bit problematic, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my patriarch. 00000000000000000000000000000000000We think you should follow him, 00000000000000000000000000000000000follow them until they can't even be followed anymore. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Abadoth I mean, 00000000000000000000000000000000000until David has properly navigated the two past Eden's west Kitchen. 00000000000000000000000000000000000Keep watching the indicated fine-linen ghosts, 00000000000000000000000000000000000stay close to your whereabouts and lastly report abet home when he hath at long last finished recovering thy substantially gnomish sword. Fondled Anniversary.
00000000000000000000000000000000000Yes, 00000000000000000000000000000000000my abominable lordess. Collapsed Jacob, Host of Angels for ye Northern Kingdom.
KING of Hosts -
QUEEN of Spirits -
St. Michael -
St. Gabriel -
St. Raphael -
St. Uriel -
St. Sealtiel -
St. Jegudiel -
St. Barachiel -
Jesus H. Christ
Saint Mary Magdalene -
Whistler, B.C. CA