DistillerCMac
DistillerCMac OP t1_jacjbn9 wrote
Reply to comment by SirPiecemaker in [WP] "One drip of this poison is enough to kill a whale." The scientist points towards a table, but the beaker isn't there. Instead a silly coffee cup shaped like a beaker sits. You lower the not coffee cup from your mouth. Tastes like lemon-lime. by DistillerCMac
Fantastic. Thanks for the response!
DistillerCMac t1_j7l8o01 wrote
Maybe if you made your laptops more affordable I would buy one instead of constantly repairing and working on my 6 year old one.
DistillerCMac t1_j6j2m5o wrote
Reply to [WP] I’m dying in a hospital within a few hours. Write me a cool afterlife please by KatKaneki
The warmth is the first thing you notice. It feels like that moment when you go outside on the first warm day of spring after a long winter. The sun hits your skin just right, burning off the months of darkness and cold. Usually, you only get to feel it in your hands, your arms, and your face; but this is a whole body experience. You can feel it in your chest, your stomach, your back… Everywhere.
Instead of burning off months of darkness and cold, it burns off years of sadness and hurt. Our bodies carry our experiences. The good feel light, transient. The bad are heavy and solid. As we age our bodies get dragged down, sagging and drooping under all of things in our lives that didn’t go according to plan. All of the moments of shame and pain.
In death those things no longer matter. They are nothing more than superfluous weight that kept us grounding in life. The hardships in life are what make the victories that much sweater. They are what drive us forward. No one will remember our broken bones, our darkest thoughts, or our most shameful moments when we die. They will remember the good times they had with us. The secret smiles, the drunken guffaws, and the stolen kisses.
As we leave this mortal plan behind we take the good with us, because that is what matters. The goodness we bring to the world leaves a light and warmth for those that come after, or for ourselves when we come back. We are born from that energy, that positivity. We do not know pain when we are born, or fear, or want, or need. We are born of positive things, because we cannot bring the negative with us from our past life. It is too heavy. To unimportant. We are born light and only add the heaviness of life to keep us grounded so that we can recognize and appreciate the good when it comes.
DistillerCMac t1_j55t2h8 wrote
Reply to [WP] You are a god. Immortal. All-powerful. Why in the world does this bright-haired teenager think he can kill you with the help of his friends and some weird sword? Frankly, you're a little concerned. by AlternativeShadows
“I have passed your trials, I have defeated your underlings and now…. I am here for YOU!!!!!” the bright haired, self-styled ‘hero’ screamed into the void. He was broken, I could see it, feel it. I knew it like I know all things.
He stood there, leaning on that stupid sword he had convinced himself would be my downfall. He was breathing heavily and losing blood at an astounding rate. He was nothing more than an annoying coddled child that had been foisted onto this path by progenitors that were unwilling to parent. Through his life he had never been told no. He had been finely crafted and molded to think that he was the center of his own story, and that everything and everyone else around him was secondary to his eventual ascent to godhood, or something that he imaged was godhood.
It was almost enough to make me feel bad – if not for how totally insufferable he was. When his first friend died he lamented; he cried, he gnashed teeth, and he swore revenge. When the twentieth died he offered prayers in a sacred grove. When the seventieth died he didn’t so much as stop to remember their existence.
“I have sacrificed everything to bring you down and halt your evil ways.” He continued to scream at the wall of blackness before him. The part he wasn’t saying out loud was ‘and take your place because it is my due.’ Like he was owed something. People starved because of him. They fought and died. They were convinced from his delusions because he was rich and powerful. How could one become so rich and so powerful if not for having a stellar character and work ethic. He was obviously better and smarter than those around them.
Of course, they always failed to take into account his astronomically rich parents. The connections and bribes and all of the other things that go along with hoarding wealth for generations. Greed is one of those evils that I wish I could go back and erase. But alas, free will and all that.
“Why do you hide from me. YOU FEAR ME! YOU KNOW I WILL DESTROY YOU!!!!!” More yelling, great. I suppose it is time for me to make my grand entrance and finally put an end to this farce.
I walked out of the void striking a rather regal visage. I took the appearance of an old man in a robe because that is what they deemed I should look like. I towered over the child, even with a slight bend to my back from ‘age’. Go away child. There is naught here for you but death.
He began to laugh. To actually laugh at me – the beginning and the end. The creator of all things. “You do not frighten me old man. It is you who should be scared.” As he finished his hackneyed overtures, he charged at me with sword raised over his head and a blood curdling roar to boot.
He had moxie at least. So convinced of his own delusions he was willing to charge at me with his toy and think he had a chance of winning.
I snapped my fingers. His legs blew off and his upper body flopped to the floor with a wet meaty thump like a fish hitting the cutting board before gutting and scaling.
He screamed. Of course. But I could tell it was more than just the pain. I could feel the petulance rising inside him. I could see the walls being thrown up in his own mind to block out the powerlessness he was feeling. Already a new narrative was being written in his mind about how he could over come this, prosper from it.
“Yield. Yield. I YIELD” he screamed, like that was some kind of magic word that held power over me. “Have… have I not proven my self to you. My worth. I…. I can do so much for you if you just let me live. I will become your greatest prophet.”
I rolled my eyes; something I couldn’t normally do as I so rarely took a physical form anymore. It felt good. I raised my hand, his body following suit. His broken, legless frame suspended in mid air in front of me. Tears streaked down his eyes from pain. I would have expected shame mixed in those tears but felt none from inside. Still his mind moved and plotted. Placing him at the center of this story.
I warned you. I warned you over and over again of the consequences of your actions.
Each one of these trials you faced wasn’t to prove you had enough to strike me down. Each one of these trials was to try and stop you. To try to show you that you had deluded yourself into this fantasy world you placed yourself in the center of. Each time I asked you to sacrifice something I thought you would say no. You SHOULD have said no. Countless others HAVE said no. Not you though.
But… there is no one to blame but myself. I gave you free will, so I cannot see what you will do, I can only extrapolate probabilities and guess at the outcomes. I can only see what you MIGHT do.
I put trials and tribulations in front of you to try and make you see. Instead, all they did was further fortify your own insanity.
For that I am sorry. I have failed you and countless others that have suffered because of you.
“I…. I don’t understand.”
I know.
I snapped my fingers a second time and his body disintegrated into dust. I lowered my hand and the cloud blew away as if in the wind.
And so I can give you naught but death.
DistillerCMac OP t1_jacjf7s wrote
Reply to comment by funnit42 in [WP] The Gods have more power the more followers they maintain. You are a Divine Broker, tasked with matching Gods with new followers, and building an appropriate incentives package so both sides feel like they win. by DistillerCMac
Thanks for the response. It was depressing in a good way.