#and then they tried holding the execution in the most flammable room on earth

[spiribia]

execution of the knight seraph (GONE WRONG)

[glopratchet]

Heel bash

Perfect beeing : an imprefect novel. The next day, you are on your way to the university with a small bag full of books and papers. You feel like you have been running all over town, but then again that is what this job does for you. The only thing keeping you from running amok in the streets is your fear of being caught by the police or some other authority figure who might not be as understanding as you would like about such actions. Angylph speaks and says "so what is this all about" You explain to him your situation and he seems very interested in it. He asks if you know anyone who might help you out. You say no, but Angylph points at one of the students sitting near you and says "that girl there is a student here too right? She could use some extra money." "since i prefer art bots instead of aborted babies, im going to assume you're referring to terease, and cant be legion. "when i read specutalive fiction" Just then, terease and the professor enter the room. Terease instantly notices you and walks towards the bottom of the steps leading up to where the professor is. By now angylph has moved into a corner away from everyone else obviously "engrossed" by a small experimental piece made by one of his fellow students. "alright here we go" you hear the professor mutter under his breath as he waits for everyone to quiet down. "let me sit back an attempt to figure all this out" he starts wit a chuckle, "well first of all it has to be said that this school is very proud of all of you. you have shown great promise in your respective fields especiallizing top graduates like terease here who graduated summaCum laude and to be honest would have finished much earlier had she not partaken in many of the University's arts programs." Everyone starts clapping at this point and the professor raises his hand for quiet. A sea of letters is called the spooge of Satan "and so it is with great pride in your accomplishments that the following students are also graduated." The professors lets out a long list of graduates names and tereases colapses from exhaustion and joy seconds before her name is called. You are, of course, one of the students called to receive a diploma. After nearly a full hour everyone gets their scholorships ready they begin to talk amongst themselves until the professor gets everyone's attention again. The who who clicks last is a stooge "on a completely different matter" he says "i know many of you come from far places, and some of you even farther than others so we have prepared a little party for you today" everyone starts applauding again until the prof holds up his hand for silence. Taking resposibility for your mistakes as we attempt to build a maze The story is told by multiverse explorer astral wylde as he naps during the last fateful trip through the red wave. The storys background is of little consequence to anyone outside astral, but describes the idea that life on most planets in a cataclysm called "the red wave" where upon every organism capable of mutating suddenly, violently and indefinitely until no earth-like quality exists. Its the eyes, ive seen them in my dreams. Now I must draw them. There are records stored in the city of astokhan on everything astral could tell us about the city during the red wave. There are floods of blood, violent uprisings and gory riots. Mothers kill babies, governments fall and deep dark secrets are revealed as everybodies darkest sides are exposed when god walked among them. The human population decreases at an alarming rate. But fortunately it is all worth it, for you see the survivors of the plague are transform into multidimensional beings that seemingly live forever. And during one of his less fuitful periods astral saw fit to return from whatever circle of hell he exists and tell us this story in a ottoman chamber aboard our fancy airship we were dragging him through space with... OOOhhh yes the main chamber should be pretty big Thats all for now folks, see you next time on... He decides to envision chains flowing from his control bracelets into the airship and ripping out a section of the exterior to form a bubble. This bubble is gently illuminated by a combination of weak sunlight and auroras. Meanwhile the skyship falls uncontrollably towards earth spewing fire and wreckage in its wake as it does "Now this you might find interesting" he grins. From the life of a beautiful painter he once knew Part 4 "An aurora occurs when our planet's magnetic field shifts sending energetic particles into the atmosphere producing light in the upper layers, often of a multi-colored hue." The university professor tells us with her droning voice, while we sit around our glowing orbs. "Multi-colored." I write on my note papers. We have these orbs that make everything look so pretty. Astral wydle because of his supernal nature is gifted with perfect memory recall and, although not wishing to brag, an above-average use of declarative sentences. But today he donates his notes to my forgetful brain and lets me jot down whatever I wish to on his perfectly organized pages. Last class we talked about cities that never slept because their streets always had a pulse even when it was long after midnight. And he remembers watching a video from mica metrological in his flamboyant style. A ghost-like aurora over midwest states caused an entire settlement's populace to never sleep again, causing anarchy and the eventual demise of their race. "It is beautiful" he wistfully whispers I supress a laugh by exhaling in his face. Talking about a thirty percent chance of rain that evening I'm still not sure if I find his obsession odd or admirable. Something starts beeping so I peep over his shoulder at the flashing orb and read "air pressure disturbance 1000 meters above current positoin expected te be 300 kph". Looking to the side I can make out a hovering 2 meter disc. He catch me looking and aims his orbs at it. The flashing light sequence continues and skyranch anthyging textual information morphs into readable english. He remembers being at the gory hole as innocent lives were taken. Somethign important must be there or about to happen, he moves his chair slightly turning his back on me as if I'm not even here. Our skyship/home an oversized oval ring with a four-story tall observatory protruding from it has been hovering over the same location for several hours now. These magnetic neareness warnings go off fairly often but I'm not complaining this means he gets distracted pretty easily. A progressive mid tier art gallery in a trendy section of beetriotle specializing in transluscultural fluidic modernism had been open and operating for just a few hours before it was randomly annihilated yesterday erasing the lives of 20 humans and 23 androgynous beings. Almost seemed like they were being targeted, but targets were not among the debris nor any recognizable body parts. Everything appearanted to have been vaporized. Enemy Agents? Turmoil of Zwordur Methodist Church faction? Maybe even unbelievers mercenaries? Known as the bridge of noise and surrounded by a metropolis, two statues were under construction yesterday now nothing but empty round pedestals of identical height. Atmospheric disturbance unusual for the time of day. I can see in his eyes that he is troubled by this event so I sit back tilt my chair and pretend to know nothing. But of all the things he could find interest in why this? There he first learns all of beetriot is laughing at triton arcage again for losing most of its citizens to a single weapon of mass destruction. It seems water is flammable terrifying. not even slunk defends his underfunded military insultingly claiming everything was just according to keikaku---military plan---and volunteerially offered no explanation at all. As he observes the details of a painting at show known as the triumph of the colored venus a bustling section of the city blows up. He counts exactly 2 seconds before the sound arrives. There were two reflections off the city walls before his ears detected the origin of the attack. Big buildings 50 yards to his right there is lots of thick grey stuff hanging in the air temperature has risen rapidly and there are flames on sides of nearby buildings. Knowing all this without even thinking he inaudibly shouts for everyone to take immediate cover and runs behind large marble barrier. That features a group of lesbian women of darker color trampling a pale woman or maybe a man with a shaved head. "Are you okay?", he asks her with concern on his face without looking at her. It hadn't occured to him that anyone else might have been close by until now. His ghostly helmeted head pivots to his right upon hearing her response. -----"Yes, but are you? You look half dead!" -----"Am fine, some soldier I am, getting old and slow" On the faces of a group of contempory news worthy white men carrying lots of camera equipment he recognizes the man he saved from execution yesterday. He was moving after all, I guess he was faking it. He closes his eyes for a few seconds until they are gone altogether and slowly gets up. -----"That was a pretty close call, I'm surprised you reacted so quickly." -----"Heh, I must be losing my touch too then, good thing..." By emerging twenty something artist cherp cherp quintuplets rush past him into the cloud of dust inspecting an 4 foot in diamater polished steel sculpture with attachment bolts flying towards them. Known for her delicate rococo style sculptures the smog turning golden by the sun reveals one of her famous twisted balusters. Otherwise known for being forever on the hunt for new material she was probably seconds away from being reduced to rubble just the same. Even regarding as an eyesore by many he lends a helping hand and takes a small detour. Always looking at your feet it has probably saved her life several times already so why would she accept his help if he tried again? He overhears saul saint nicodemous giving cherp cherp a critique of the piece which he knows would otherwise make her sad so waits. -----"I like it, but maybe move the middle one a little to the right?" -----"Ok"*snap*. -----"No, the other one.*sigh* That wasnt good either---oooo wait----let me help. With a group of other artist friends including a bullfighter, an owner of an erotica shop, a blonde painted girl and a famous male fictional character charging from all directions he waves them back for fear of getting trampled only after they refuse to listen. Perfect execution of an ideas persons suicide in the Gucci manner the sculpture has been perfect mounted on a pole with its own leg shattering it. "Excuse me an eye master I'm looking for Blim Blam would he be around" Katharsis gale the oldest of the group in mid fourties wearing various hats asks him with an engaging smile. "Errrrr... maybe moved in recently but I don't think he is in just now" -----"That's a shame I like his work so much....but I'll leave my card just in case. tell him, not to hesitate if he needs any thing." He says uplifting her spirits she beams brightly at him and waves as she walks away giving nick lazy eyes the entire time. Bransky bronze bright supermacy in her early thirties stand next to him and waits her turn. he remembers her paintings, not having been impressed by the subject matter of cute dumb superpowers though others found them amusing enough to frame and sell. He gives her a "go ahead" nod. -----"Looking for any available artist at this time?" -----"No!" -----"OK then...Word is you have been doing alot of writing lately?" Bransky and chirp standing sliently noding there heads in approval As saul saint goes on and on with bullshit language about destruction of the More nonsense on colonialism he dedicates more time destroying her ideas than praising them Then something incredible happens for once Chirp is second guessing SAINT's choices the verbal abuse he heaps of Blim-Blim. And everyone else. He disapproves of Blim-Blim's paintings, saying that while Blim-Blim might have a good eye (naturally, being an eye master) and an excellent grasping of color and shape, he hasn't got "anything to say" as an artist. An aspect of queer theory that has a giant middle finger up at the rules of heteronormative society. He says they can be sold if framed properly and placed in the right cafe, bar or hipster clothing store to attract the right demographic as easily as magnets. And other fashionable topics of art conflict and provocation that's prevalent in avant-garde places. Hopefully it garners some attention in his small once a decade show of retarded artist rejects sells nothing and passes into obscurity or sold to an idiot for over 5 times the price years later. Your very own degenerate art grant. During this time period you have been wanting to branch out with other ventures of your own as you start to resent SAINTS inclusion of All your publications in his book if he cant even help you get Blim-Blims art, website, connections and assistantship and your writings more noticed. At the end of the sanction you all gather for everyone to find out if they have been accepted or not, Anyone with a supermacy is clearly relaxed as they anticipate the results. You can sense the agitation of some of them who arent powerful enough to easily probe their minds. "Well, I've got the results, and I have some good news and some bad news," saint says, pausing for dramatic effect. Leaving the others shocked ,crestfallen oO( what....did my photo's not make it or what...damnit I knew the colors were too bright and obnoxious.. .) or gleeful "First, the bad news: You didniet get in. Now for the good news. You can all come in for free to see all the art at the exhibition this weekendand, ahem, leave your demos outside if you want!" While kat unable to control herself goes on a giggle fit super bradly focuses his eye beams on saul saint who feels the burn of a thousand suns intensified by 400 percent muttering angrily under his breath you all get up and leave one angry little man ranting as you all giggle like school girls at his bizarre sense of humor. some peoples kids "well that answers that, We're all going peashooting after this amazing art event that will no doubt solidify our social justice creative stronghold in this city" Saul and brankys backs away with out a retort in disgust and you spend your weekend having a great time and going through three bottles of peashooters were It was noted that hack had 9 kills with shrooms, kill coin flips to see who she shot, unhygenic had one, Yoona had two unfortunately Seline not at all Speaking of seline she asks if you will help her again next weekend The group heads for the wine bar wondering about the homeless nature of astral beings And wondering if he comes from the land of lixie dixie, a southern state mostly covered in stagnant water and thick forests. The dealer of gallery motions to cherp to come her way because she wants something You thank Yk TRACE : 0 There is no way around it. I need your help." "Oh? Well what can I do?" you respond. "I'm being sold," she scowls. Trace: 0 You initially think this is one of her usual dirty jokes, but her facial expression shows that she is quite serious. "Sold?" you clarify A collector is interested in buying her work, but he's requested that she be sold together with all of her equipment. The buy in for her includes her tools, sheet music, and instruments. Everything she knows is contained within that room, it would be impossible for her to go elsewhere without losing who she is. Although you're confident that she could easily create another identity elsewhere. Despite her mistrust of the new rulers of this barren realm, selling her seems like the easiest solution to this conflict.Tip: If you're logged in, your games are auto saved for you. You can find them by clicking "My Stuff"