Re: The Journey To A Goddess

Thu Oct 23, 2014 7:47 am

-Redoing post-
https://www.platinumhearts.net/t12855-alternative-outcome-to-journery-to-a-goddess#81802

Alternative ending to The Journery To A Goddess below

Artist: Abnormal OST - Song: Mata Katenakatta - Word Count: 1020

Tendrils. Thousands of them. That is what emerged from the murky depths of the darkness beneath all of their feet. A darkness that seemed to spiral on forever and ever. However, these spiked appendages did not go after Neoveta, nor did they go after Iriko. Indeed, they went STRAIGHT for Deveta. Capturing him in a series of sharpened tentacles, they were black, gold, white and red in color as the sounds of children and females laughing echoed throughout the entity of The Castle of Causality.

In that instant, the eyes of Deveta seemed to dull into a very pale shade of gray and the descendant into the Heart of himself began. Although his life force was still very much great, something seemed to be fading within himself and absolving into the tendrils themselves. In fact, there were even new appendages spewing out of the void forming in his chest and attaching to the tentacles all around him.

This was indeed -- The Will of The Heart. What was occurring now was something that was bound to happen at some place and time. The damage done to Deveta was far too great, the truth was becoming unveiled to him by the moment and the ascension of Khala was far too great to suppress. The balance of power between the two was skewed and this moment all but proved it.

Therefore, as Deveta dissolved further into this abyss of darkness, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh as burn marks, bruises, black blood and rotted skin emerged all throughout his body. In this warm abyss, the will of The Heart would see to it that his desires were fulfilled and that he'd no longer feel the pain of his miserable existence. By living on within his heart, Khala Asthavon would absorb The Demon God into herself and take his place as the new dominant force.

"Look 'Veta, the sun is rising~"

In that oh-so familiar tone of voice, the sounds of Khala's essence echoed throughout the four-walls of this ever-spiraling prison. And just as quickly as it appeared -- it crumbled. The ceiling broke to pieces and a golden and white sky drowned everything in an overbearing light. Strong winds whiplashed all throughout the darkness and the blacked chains of the heavens fell all around them.

"The world we created...is going to be saved. And the world we leave behind, should be left to sink and return to that of the night."

In those warm words and calm sights, perhaps that is what he wanted. There was no purpose in his existence, so there was no purpose for him to suffer as that meanless shell either. To be consumed into something greater that Khala was becoming -- was only the natural course of progression.

She had built the foundations of the new era into Demon World, paved the path of war and shouldered his burden for so many years. While he lay in the abyss running away from it all, she stood in the light and carried his pain on her shoulder to bare until her right to rule had came. So due to his foresight, or rather, lack of action, he was forced to become the submissive and serve Khala as their natural order so proclaimed. The Will -- Of The Demon Gods Heart was King.

"I suppose it was inevitable that I'd meet a miserable end such as this. Or rather...I yearned for such an end. It can't be helped since I wanted you two to slay this "me" on that day. That is the mission I gave you, after all, Khala. And you responded beyond my wildest, divine imagination"

Sounding soft spoken, as if there were sorrow behind his voice, the Demon God seemed to transition from his shade of infinite to dark to that of eternal light. Turning his gaze to Neoveta, then Iriko, a nod of his head was all that was given to confirm his "end" was coming.

"For the meantime, I'll accept and acknowledge this "me" as dominant."

Closing his heavy eyes, The Fading Demon God seemed to ease back into the pool of shadows that bubbled and foamed into that which was an ocean of light. Despite that heavenly scenery, like an ominous growl, the opening of a singular eye came to be in his forehead and shattered that calmness for but a brief few moments. It was filled with the night that had once filled the room, and had within the center of it -- a shade of crimson darker than the most murky blood.

"However, don't forget that either of us can become the dominant or submissive self. Our divinity is constantly changing, always evolving. So if you leave even the smallest opening, I'll creep in like a plague, proceed to get rid of you and crush you until there is nothing left...much as my state is now."

Following those words, Deveta started to become one with that which was his heart and his will.

But -- not before the faint tapping of Deveta's hand could be felt across Neoveta, Iriko and Khala's own chest; wherever she may be at this point.

"Oh, and here's a warning. If you really want my power to stay stable, do your best not to die until the next time I appear."

And with that -- The Demon God was no more.

Drowned into this neverending light, he had been consumed by his own heart and put to sleep.

For now, The Empty Shell of The Demon God had been silenced and his power was now in the hands of his Heart. The Heart he had so yearned for to guide him through this darkness that was existence. With her new purpose, enlightened religion and heightened sense of self; everything was left to her.

Thus, coming forth from this pool, was a bare girl. Luscious aqua hair, slender body frame, golden eyes with a golden glow; this was -- Khala reborn.

So, this newborn version of The Demon God's turned to Neoveta and Iriko, with a smile on her face, and said these words:

"Thank you~"

Fri Oct 24, 2014 9:56 pm

Artist: 東方/Vocal - Song: LOVE - Word Count: 1282

So, the body was out of balance, the mind was out of sight and the essence was tainted. It sounds like her other half had all but forgotten one thing: connection. The bonds that tethered their existence had been so skewed since the dawning of the first sun so many billions of years ago. It was no wonder she could feel her other half having no purpose, yearning to die and leaving his mission to her. The Heart of The Demon God understood what he needed to do now more than ever with the help of The Soul King's blessed children.

The chains buckled, the walls cracked and the darkness gave way into a golden illuminance. Morphing, contorting and spiraling; that which was negative, and that which was positive were finding their equilibrium together. Although there was a desire to consume Deveta, Khala understood that she'd be doing nothing more than what Deveta had done to her for millions of years: commit the sin of rejection. They'd never escape this literal hell that way; even as the vision of a world where she was the solo demon god played before them.

No -- in this world -- in this time -- they needed each other. Not a single soul was a one act show, and neither were that of the gods. Much like darkness cannot exist with light, Khala could not live on with Deveta; and Deveta could not live with her. So they needed to acknowledge each others differences, accept what has occurred and unite their affection to reach infinity once more.

Therefore, before Deveta had the chance to eject himself from this plane of existence, the prayer of Neoveta and the warmth of Iriko pulled Khala from her slumber. And in this way, her will held The Demon God place. Awakening with her wits about her, now was not the time for The Goddess's instabilities to take root. As like spiraling vortex of infinite sorrow, the anguish that Khala carried for Deveta was coming back to him ten-fold and it was apparent that The Godlings structure could not handle that torment. He received a taste of what she endured -- and that was punishment enough.

Unlike him, she'd not allow for such eternal sorrow to devour her other half. They could not do this alone, and they had to accept that fact. Thus, an eruption of energy flowed into the vast room and the day became night, as much as the night became day. This fusion, this unity, were the gods becoming equal. It is why Khala did not appear from the prisons in the skies above them, the light of release around them, nor in the depths of the murky isolation below their feet.

Instead, Khala came forth from out of the hole in Deveta's chest. To fulfill that void as much as he fulfilled the void within her. They could not rely on others to do that for them, for this was an act that needed to come from the internal self. The roots of their torment, misalignment and contorted actions could all be traced back to one thing: disharmony from one's true self.

They were separated from the people who needed them. They were detached from the spirits who loved them. And, most of all, they were disconnected from each other. With this total disorder, the whole of The Demon God became disjointed from the very world that gave birth to their divine power. Failing to learn their past, unwilling to listen to their world, never hearing their own consciousnesses intuition to guide them; all of these led to such disbalance that The Demon God's Heart sought to correct in her slumber.

So as a single hand came forth from out of the torso of Deveta, Khala began reconstructing herself and binding her other half back to this world. Grunting, suffering and desiring for this completion; The Heart did not give out from its owner who so wanted it gone. As much as they wanted to give out, despite the fact it felt right to fade out of this existence they called life, it just wasn't their time yet.

Thus, The Demon God let out a hellish yell as Khala's entire body leapt forth from his chest; spewing black blood in every which direction but right. Bare as the day she was born, Khala laid face first in the shadow and light colored water floor around them. Covering her entire body was an aqua-hued hair that extended down to her feet.

So it was hard to gauge how she appeared -- until The Godling suddenly sprang to life with a grin.

Indeed, Khala's smile gave a hint of the same wickedness Iriko faced on that dark day; but with the same sense of calmness as her innermost serene self. As Deveta's body became solid once more, what Khala had done became more clear. There was a sense of the same girl who brought the Soul Society to its knee, but at the same time the girl who unveiled herself bare to The Crow was there as well. And the Demon God who wished to be nothing was still very much alive, while at the same time a Demon God desired to be more had birthed.

Connecting like a chain that never ends, these distorted and whole selves of The Divine were acknowledged and put back into place. They could never be destroyed, but neither could these PAST selves obliterate their new path towards a better godhood. So, as bloodied and injured as Khala was, she began to stand on her own two feet once more; Deveta following much in the same suit as he shook his head in disbelief at what she did.

"Then listen to your heart and let us guide one another towards this new future we've been given. I am you and I understand that you desire to improve. You cannot hide that from me."

Speaking in a soothing voice, the hints of discord slithered like a lingering aura around the essence of The Godlings Heart, but the way she represented herself appeared to otherwise show that she had accepted it for what it was and kept it at bay through that method. So, she would further embrace these feelings and rub the right cheek of Deveta ever so smoothly; reflecting the same convergence of feeling to Iriko and Neoveta as well; making sure to glance back at them and give the same smile in return for bringing themselves to this place.

"We've been out of balance for too long, and the world can sense that. It is why when I opened my heart that day, I discovered that it can still teach us new things and better incorporate that into our kingdom, our people, our religion. I can share what we need to do to have..a proper purpose...if you're open to listening to your heart for once."

So, as she took a deep breath and exhaled, the stability and instabilities of Deveta and Khala's existence came to a centerpoint. It allowed for a sense of composure The Godlings have not shown in quite sometime. Perchance, it was this that allowed her to speak her mind and take responsibility for what she felt was a travesty.

"That is what The Mortal taught me that day. And for that, I apologize to all for blocking this reality out and not realizing this missing fact sooner."

Directing these words to Iriko, Deveta and all those who followed her; these sentiments were directed to everyone, and no one at the same time.

Ah.

This was -- a revelation to The Gods.

Fri Oct 31, 2014 12:30 am

Iriko Crow

The Dragon of the North, Seiryuu

The climax of history.
Will remain a mystery.
Without a sense of desire.
The ends lost to the fire.
Without hope, without love.
Without courage; a lost dove.
Yet the flames consume ourselves,
Even as dust gathers on the shelves.
The past locked in tomes;
And yet, the reader roams.
Look for the future, lost soul.
The climax of history.
Will remain a mystery.

The floating torso remained floating there, his eyes looking dully ahead with the only eye he had left. He could feel Neoveta's uncertainty, the pain of her heart. He didn't mean to drive fear into the child; that was never his intention. However, this was something that he felt he had to do, even as the slashes of his argument cascaded against the Demon God…

And then her wings retracted once more. The radiant light faded, and the male smiled, though the smile was extraordinarily small. … I suppose, that is the power of innocence, is it not… Even among demons, princesses exist… He thought, half with a sense of morose, and half with a simple feeling of acceptance. The look of that smile - Don't look at me like that… - felt like it blinded the male. She was wrapped around his waistline - what remained of it, thanks to that strange experience before he had awoken - and the corpse-like right arm hung limply at the male's right side.

"...A place of belonging… has never been intended for this form. How can I explain, what the feeling of nothingness is…? Even that which you have, is greater than it's loss…" The male spoke, somewhat hazy from the unbidden memories that flowed back along the forefront of his mind. That feeling, striking down all the enemies of the Seireitei, unthinking, unfeeling, performing a task without purpose… "…" When she spoke once more, explaining the root of her viewpoint, small tears appeared under his left eye. "Paper is dead without words. Ink idle, without a poem. All the world dead without stories. Without love…" The male repeated to her that line, which stuck in the back of his mind no matter how much time had passed. "...No. This world of ours… is essentially good. Even in the eternal struggle, there is life. Without life, there can be no story. Without a story, there is no world. Without a world, positives cannot exist. Without a world, there can be no love." The male told her in reply, trying to explain it the simplest way he could - but it was difficult.

The world could not be good or bad overall, could not be good or evil. After all, to remove one loses its purpose - to regard only one loses the power of the other. It felt like a liquid blanket was pouring over his mind as a result of her magic. To say he was unable to resist would be an understatement - the fortitude of the male had never been strong even before he was reduced to a floating torso. It felt like his very will was being put to rest - and frankly, it was more like he was high off of some drug.

His focus was drawn back to the pitiful God before him. To say he was unstable, would also be an understatement. The scenery around them changed, and Iriko felt like they were finally getting towards the heart of the matter - in a totally unironic way. ...The edge… of reality… ...I do wonder what would occur… if a blade, were forged here… What kind of nightmarish weapon it could become… And yet I feel… weak… almost sick, in its presence… The male reflected to himself as he felt a vague understanding that it was not Deveta, but the Heart who had brought them here.

"It is humanity. Because while there is weakness within it, there is strength. It can be neither one nor the other. It is not like the pure Angels, who follow the creed in their blood. It is not like a robot, which simply follows the orders of its master. I use Humanity for that term alone truly expresses what this concept is. I could not call it Demonic Nature - that is incorrect. I could not call it Will, for Will alone is insufficient. It is more than simple will - it is a will that is directed by the being themselves. That is humanity."

Iriko realized after he spoke that his opponent was beginning to flicker in and out of existence. "That doesn't give you the right! Just as the Soul King cannot choose my destiny, nor a parent force that upon it's child! Even if she is you, you will only destroy yourself in the end down this path of isolation!" The male's truth struck like a broardsword, even as he felt that Deveta was beginning to… fade. His eyes were widening as he watched the man before him grip himself as Deveta's heart burst into flame.

"…" Iriko could only watch, his teeth grit tightly. "...Why…? Why must you fight imperfection so vehemently?" Asked the Captain Commander as he floated there, little more than a corpse. "...You can experience it, but that is the realm of stories and the past. You can read a book about the past all you would like, but to change it would cease the experience. It would become reality, a positive once more. You can think of a negative number, you can look at one, but there is no way to create negative matter! Debt and other figures can be understood - but you cannot create negative money. You cannot create negative time or negative space, for as soon as something is added, something created - it becomes positive once more."

The male began to cough, small trickles of blood rising up from his throat. "It matters… because it can harm. It can also help, aid. Finally, do I have to say it once more? - If I do not, who shall? One of your demons stuck in the rapture of worship? How about your enemies who cannot feasibly ever reach this point? Do you even ask it yourself? Or is that why you are fading?" The male asked, looking at Deveta with pity.

"According to you, you are that thing. If you can't communicate with your own heart, how the hell are you supposed to be satisfied with your existence?" He continued to question Deveta, though at this point it give Iriko nearly a sickening feeling. At this point, he could see that the being before him was in no state to have its existence attacked. However, Iriko felt that he did not have a choice. He entered into this conflict, and he would not dishonor Deveta and himself by running from it. "If all you wish to do is watch… then how are you any different from a being without power?" He sked at last, before he watched the male beginning to change and-

Suddenly, laughter consumed the area. Iriko would have put up a hand to cover his eye, but the truth of the matter was - hands were not a thing he possessed at this point."...Because that has worked so well.. In your past." The male made this statement simply, looking straight at the being that was caught in throes before him. "… Sad. A tragic god. Isolation has fractured your existence and weakened you, and you would confine yourself to it once more." He stated, before he finally heard Deveta state that he didn't know.

"...You do know. You have to know." Iriko stated, a slight urgency appearing in his voice. Maybe it was because he had come to understand in his battle against these divine beings how close their concepts were related to their existence. Maybe it was because he pitied Deveta. Maybe he honestly wanted the sad existence before him to improve. Whatever the reason, he could see only oblivion in that statement, before the next statement died in his throat at Deveta's words. The last word that flowed from his choked throat appeared, even as he watched Deveta attempt to fade from existence.

"...Coward."

However, that word was lost into the depths of space and time as something appeared from the male in front of Iriko. A hand emerged from Deveta's chest, and Iriko could only stare with his remaining eye. The male was promptly covered in black blood, and his left eye shut tightly. After all, this was something he had to see, so he felt the smallest dredge of power he still maintained into creating a single bubble from the liquids that covered his eyeball, pushing away the blood before it burst, sending it splaying across the ground as the male panted from even this microscopic use of his power.

The male looked at her, laying there in the ground. Her hair was splattered out around her back. Staring are w- Shut up. The male's thoughts interrupted his own, repressing and crushing them. Now was not the time, so not the time. And then she rose up to her feet, giving a smile to the male that nearly made him blanch.

The stance her words took echoed with Iriko's own. And yet, he could not particularly put attention to that, as he heart rate had accelerated tremendously, blood beginning to drip from the various injuries on his body. What the hell…? Is this…? The male wondered even as he began panting, his face becoming red from the presence of blood pushing itself to the surface, drips dropping down from the scarred part of his face. And as she spoke once more, apologizing, the male's body convulsed, as if forcing something that could not be forced.

… ….. …. … … …

The male was silent, his head finally dropping on his chest as he went limp, the power possessing him dropping him gently to the ground as he laid there, face down. This was relief. That feeling that Khala had so desperately been trying to infuse within him on her visit through Neoveta - that feeling that Neoveta had attempt to inject into him. IT came from Khala's words, and he felt like an absolutely gigantic weight had been lifted off of his chest, as if great chains were finally released. The chains of the male's duty, in facing a being such as Deveta on the level of thoughts, in that weakened state. His body was trying to drive him into unconsciousness, to sleep, to rest, to recuperate naturally, but that same influence that his thoughts formed around was preventing that.

"………."

Core Elements Devised by Aivee

Fri Nov 14, 2014 10:31 pm

[PLAY 'DAT TRACK IN THE YOUTUBE BAR WHILE READING THIS POST]

Artist: EGOIST - Song: euterpe [Full Version] - Word Count: 2305

Ingesting the sounds of Iriko's poetry as a baby bird would consume its nutrition from its mothers mouth, the mind of Neoveta was opened to the words that he uttered. In these oh-so twisted lines that connected the twos souls, the thoughts and sensation of Neoveta's introspection came to be and flourished to life within the depths of Iriko's being.

Their historic meeting was a motion in the universe that could not be so easily stopped. If it were to be stopped; then the innermost discoveries of their purpose and self would remind a shroud of mystery. In this ambiguity and lack of desire, the darkest most selves would arise from the depths of this unfounded ground and seek to reap the soul. Once the spirit is theirs to claim, that which The Demon Gods influence would fall to sunder and once again fall at risk under being consumed by the void.

Thus, despite how painful this journey may be for all parties involved, this was a quest that they all must venture forth ahead of to find that hope, to discover that yearning and to find the fire in their hearts to push through this cosmic calamity that has torn their worlds into such sunder. Overview the dust of the past, but do not allow thy's history to consume your present and future in such wicked and hasty flames.

Reach -- for future.

That was the ultimate message that Neoveta learned. And through their distorted bonds; her mother, father and Iriko alike would come to comprehend these sensations brewing within her soul and come to their own conclusions on how to cope with such a finalization of thoughts. That was the nature of their marking.

So, with these sensations nailed down to the cross for all to bare, the child awoken to the world around her with a renewed sense of self. Holding forth her ground between the spear of word play between the divine and the not-so divine, the likes of Neoveta felt such anguish wash over her heart akin to an unwanted heat wave ravaging the lands with its unforgiving temperatures .

Yet, in spite of these jabs to her persona and spirit, she'd not falter nor turn away from them as she had in so many years past. Until this conflict was resolved, until they saw the light of this morning through their eternal night; Neoveta would not rest, nor would she cease, until their adventure into Hell came to a satisfying conclusion.

It is why she would not allow herself to whence, curl up and cry out in pain after reading Iriko's pulsation of will. This dejected feeling would be acknowledged, but she'd not react to it. For this voice that echoed within the child's head uttered the notion that she was a vile beast for allowing the man to reach the condition he is. The two of them were in a calamitous strife with two Demonic Gods; just where did she get off making such pitiful and awful cries of fear to further burden the shinigami?

But, where did he ever say he was not ready for such a thing? That was the counter argument her waking mind gave to the response of this wicked voice. So in that instance, Neoveta would go beyond the realm of mortality and become divine by allowing herself to be forgiven. And in doing so, the child's forgiveness extended to Iriko and she'd pardon him for the brief flight of fear within herself.

So as The Dragon of Shinigami cried tears of emptiness, the child took them into herself and accepted his nothingness into her being. If he lacked a place of belonging? She'd be his place to belong. If the male knew not of nothingness? The context of mind would fill that concept from her perception. The greater the loss, the greater the gain; and what she gained in Iriko's company was more than The Demoness could ever hope to aspire to.

Through this reasoning, upon this logic, was the reason that Neoveta started to accept the stance he held in this world. If there was nothing to contrast death; the notion of life could not exist as we know it. Much like the threshold of pleasure could not be understood without the bitter taste of agony. In this mixing of words and feeling, the revelation of how this reality worked had started to come to life within the child's heart and mind.

"I...understand. Thank...you."

Those words were as slow as a slug, but the deepened intent and comprehension that Neoveta held for his own were all but realized in their telepathic connection with one another. While the child held great capacity to speak on her own, there were just some things in the universe that could not be conveyed in simple words. Some prefer the mask of vagueness, while others lean towards the light of total understanding. In that moment, Neoveta chose to adorn both in a mesh of twilight. Allowing the briefness of her statement to bring the light of enlightenment, while granting access to the ambiguity of it all and allowing Iriko to draw his own understanding and stance from the pulsations of emotion, thought and perception she held in this bond they shared.

Henceforth, coming back to the reality of things, The Princess of Demons started to become more aware of the space around herself. In this way her eyes would focus and shift their attention towards the decaying rot of Iriko's body. Blinking with fear at first, the child grew to appreciate the attention The Gods and The Captain Of The Gotei commanded.

Throughout their exchange of metaphysical blows; Neoveta failed to pay much notice towards the injuries Iriko was enduring. Therefore, as she nuzzled herself further into his chest, the Demoness called forth her powers of the semi-divine to come to work once more. Their task? Mend the wounds of The Broken Dragon.

On that line of thought from their master and creator, the transference of energy from The Asthavon to The Crow would complete itself. They'd seek to embrace their target in a loving warmth, overflow his body in a reddening glow and carry out the task of healing his body. Reconstructing new body parts from the energy within himself, flash turned anew, sight brought back from the depths of darkness, building forth new nerve endings for ones once destroyed and giving the man his own legs to stand on once more were all intended goals of The Child's attempt at repairing the male's shell before her.

It was from this point that the exchange between The Lone Crow and The Demonic God became blurred and hollowed out. Searching their feelings, the child understood that their clash would not come to blows. So, with this sense of relief oozing over her like a cool breeze on a summer day, Neoveta allowed herself to be at ease and focus whole heartily on the recovery of Iriko with all her might.

So, as the very lands around them started to fizzle in and out of alterations, the child paid not much attention to them. It was unimportant compared to the duty of making The Shinigami whole once more. Or, at the very least, as close to whole as she could make them.

There was a doubt within The Princess that her hand could even make such miracles, but that was life. Despite how grim things seem one must come to accept these feelings and act in spite of them. So as her mind kept repeating the futility of it, Neoveta kept focusing on it with dedication and attention to detail.

Spreading her spiritual particles throughout and within Iriko's body, patching the holes of his injuries and further pumping new life into him was all she could pay much insight into at that time. Like a Doctor with a passion; Neoveta's desire was for the male's body to get better if he would not care for it himself.

Although, as the conflict that bled out around her came in blurs, there was a sentence or two that brought Neoveta's mind to awareness. One of the first was the mentioning of the fact that if one cannot communicate with their own heart, then they'd fail to grasp who they were. In that line, a realization came to be within the soul of Neoveta.

Perhaps the reason for her own timidness and fear is the fact that she to did not understand her own heart very much before this quest into Hell. Abiding by the whims of the world, Neoveta was like a loose tumbleweed going where the winds took her. Never one for having much of her ground to call her own; the sudden dawning that she had taken her stance was monumental to her in hindsight. In that cycle of thought; The Demon Princess had more self-assurance that was the correct path she was indeed traveling upon and reaffirmed herself once more.

In that harmonizing of the inner-soul, in fact, the illumination of energy around The Royal Demoness's body began to change. No longer was it the blood red essence of her power, nor was it the blackness of her fathers soul; it was a shining burst of white light that screeched forth to the horizon around them that this power was -- Neoveta's. Not her mothers, nor her fathers and certainly not the Demon Queen's, but The Demon Princess's own will and internal self coming forth to the surface to raise above all other influences that try and claim her body for their own.

When that overflowing awakening came to pass, as to did the second line of acceptance Neoveta allowed to be assimilated in the soul. Somewhere in between the stopping and going of these mental blurs, the child ingested a line that spoke of a God who did nothing but watched his subjects. Met with the recourse of being just as powerless as those who had no strength due to his lack of action; a string within The Princess's heart came to life and further accelerated these flames to ignite with a damning screech.

Throughout most of her life, the Demoness considered herself to be oh-so passive and oh-so indifferent. So as she took more bold steps to become more assertive of her ground, map out the inner blueprints of her will and evolve into a demon with its own desire; Neoveta used that line as strength to further ease the voices of uncertainty that flowed in her mind like an unwanted fog. From this point onward -- she'd have to take action in what conflicts with her morals; even if her heart felt such terror and fright by taking such a lone stance in the heat that was conflict.

For that reason, when the overflowing embrace of Khala slammed into all the souls gathered on this day in the land of the divine, Neoveta could do nothing but hold her stance and finish the job she started by making the last bits of healing finalized and prayed to her God, to herself and to her mother that she'd somehow manage to make a helpful difference. That is what her soul so desired: the ability to help those in need, provide love where there was none and to put her powers to a higher purpose and attract those without it to her like a moth to the flame. She wanted to provide -- goodness -- in a world filled with strife and be the kind of person who could sustain the lives of others with her strength.

Ergo, nothing but a smile could be returned to her mother who had more than found the same sort of relief within herself through this bond they all shared. The only thing that was uncertain was if -- Deveta -- could find the same in spite of all this that goes against his desire to absolve himself into nothingness. So, in response, all Neoveta felt was required to pull him out of that was provide her hand to him, let the words of Iriko sink in and the influence his heart had on him to bring him back forth into the clutches of reality.

But like a strike of lightning in the night, the flash from happiness to concern lit up across Neoveta's face. Smile turning to shock, Neoveta teleported herself to the side of the limp Shinigami as his energy took a nose dive. Was it perhaps something she did? Could his morality be catching up with him? Or was it some bizarre act of fate that he lay nearly dead on the ground?

Those horrifying thoughts and more swirled around in Neoveta's head as a twister would across the land, but she would not let it consume her. Letting these pressing thoughts guide her towards the light of truth, she let them be and used them as energy to help her in the quest of bettering Iriko. In this way, the connection they shared became more apparent and The Demonness realized something mindboggling: before this fall to grace -- there was relief.

A relief the pair of Godlings tried to so desperately infuse within the male -- had come to pass. It was unbelievable, but so confusing as well. Was he in good health, or was he in horrid condition? It was hard to tell, so Neoveta took comfort in the fact he found peace, but failed to stop in her effort to try and force his body to remain in stable well-being.

"Has your own void been fulfilled yet, Iriko?"

That simple question was then posed back to the limp Crow as The Demon Princess awaited an answer with an earnest smile.

Thu Nov 27, 2014 10:59 am

Artist: まりつみ - Song: Inversion - Word Count: 1817

Life
Death

The doors that await us
are limited only to to those two

Hesitant, we cling to this prison of the void
Yet, boldly, we hold out for more

Reaching for the skies of the heaven above
These tainted hands cry out once more

Is this the future?
Perhaps the past remasked?
Or else a dream we've redeemed?
Where is the answer?

Pierced by the cold, this body shivers
But within, the warmth triggers

From this growing strife
The way to further this fight
Lays within a glowing Heart

Holding this surging crux
Our blazing affection has intersected

And with it
The way is shown within
Shall we bind ourselves with reason?

In this void of space, not even this Demonic Godling's own desire to be eradicated from this universe would be granted. A will left unfulfilled, and a desire never to aspire.

Or, perhaps, was this ambition misplaced?

At the end of the day, the will of The Demon God was still ever strong. Even if he'd rebuke it, the pulls of his subconscious mind seemed to yank him back into existence; despite his consciousness desires of yearning to fade into a cold oblivion and disconnect himself from this material realm once and for all. So for this reason, this maddening reason, would The Demonic Deity began vomiting copious amounts of blood. Blood which was intermixed with the hues of black, red, white and gold; these oh-so precious colors that roared within the mighty demon.

Maybe he was laughing at the pitiful state of his imperfect godhood, perhaps the cosmic figure had been influenced by his manic heart once more to be drugged and deluded into a euphoric state, or perchance this was a coping mechanism meant to better endure the trauma the godling endured on his body. But, whatever the case may or may not be, the creature entered into a repetitive laughing fit as his inner-heart began to take form once more.

Sigh.

As soon as this fit of laughter began, however, was as swiftly as it came to end in the exhaling of a calmed sigh. Although memories of this creatures lifespan were somewhat of an enigma to even itself, this openness to the universe allowed for an abstract thought to occur. Inside this space utmost of free-thinking, a notion was drawn: "Did his former self...perhaps...put Khala...the heart...in place as a safety mechanism?"

Yes -- The Heart -- is what seemed to drive the essence of conscious life since the first big bang. It is what separated man from beast; for the heart allowed for self-awareness and understanding. Even in the heart of the grimmest murderer, their heart still beats with ambition for their comprehension of the world; even if it seeks nothing but destruction from this pain of living.

So it is why, from this understanding, the heart is able to achieve many things. The heart can connect with others to find belonging and unity; that achieves unity and eases loneliness. The purpose for religion in general was to awaken this enlightenment and create eternal ecstasy from the joys of the heart connecting to a higher caller and uniting under one banter.

Or, for those who do not follow such a route, perhaps the burning desire that lays within a person's heart can give birth to power. Power leads to strength and strength leads to freedom for some. Strength to break isolation, strength to craft safe havens for their own heart or the hearts of others; and maybe, most importantly of all, strength to awaken their own will and understand who it is they are.

For once a person is able to achieve that within the deepest parts of their heart: they can open their minds eye and achieve divinity after much struggle during life, bruising of the soul in death and maturing of the heart with time. Perhaps it is for those concluding reasons that The Pitiful Slug Boy whom brought himself before The Demon God had managed to reach into his heart and make it this far into the deepest void of Hell and inflict this change within The Wicked Deveta.

"Aye...."

That was all Godling could muster up to say as he tethered and bounded himself back to this reality with the touch of his heart's love. Coming to grips with his position in this existence; he now felt affirmed of his purpose and desires after the whole union of his and Khala's merger.

The first thing he desired to do? Arise to the helms in Khalaism and utilize this religion they founded as a means to alleviate the void within himself. If there was no purpose in the universe -- then dammit...! He was god! An Imperfect God, but a God none the less! If there was darkness in this nihilistic existence? Then he'd let their be light and bring forth the luminous concept of meaning into the universe he resided over and crafted with his own two hands.

Khalaism brought forth the salvation of souls through the shattering between the boundaries of life and death, the heart and the mind and bridged the gap between this infinite pain and infinite pleasure. If people so wished to follow them, then he'd take this strength that he found to be pointless and turn into something grand for those who believed in his might.

So, it is why The Great Demon God would raise to its feet, flourish the air with great power once more and set his blazing gold eyes upon those who encroach his domain. The reddened flow of power that surged around him was great, the shadows that oozed within him deep, but there was a difference from before. No longer was it such a empty feeling generating from The Godling -- it was heavy. It was as if there was something slowly, but surely, weighing his spirit down and filling its contents with a force worthwhile. Although it was still so distant, it felt firm, in place and anchored as the nature of gravity kept life in tact within Earth itself.

And with his mind recalibrated; the functions to speech and communicate properly soon returned. And with it followed that of this entities strength reforming, mind restoring and its heart overflowing. Indubitably, The Demon God found himself upon a place once more to defend his points as he set his piercing gold eyes upon The Crow's being. But, in that moment, the creature discovered that, deep inside, he had became open enough to accept some notions to alter its projected path towards Improved Godhood.

"No. That notion is not exclusive to humanity or anyone on race; God or not."

These words -- they were spoken, yet unspoken. Known, yet not known. For what left the body of Deveta seemed to be the essence of existence itself overflowing and spewing itself across the world that created it. This element slammed down like hard iron-clad gloves across the holy ground they all stood upon and piercing into the wall of The Lone Shinigami's words. They rejected what The Crow said with their fierce might, but through its destruction of his words, gave a proper meaning of what he yearned to convey. Indeed, after the entire ordeal all parties gathered in the Realm of Gods had endured, this adjustment had to be realized soon enough.

"What you describe as humanity...is The Heart in reality. The Heart is the essence of an individual and is what allows for true life, ultimate power and comprehension of ones self to come to life. That definition can be applied to Gods, Demigods, Mortals and any race with enough self-awareness to dare cling to such a thing within their embodiment."

Turning to Khala, Deveta's eyes still seemed cold as ice, but behind them -- hid appreciation. Appreciation for the fact that his heart could reach out to him once more and straighten out the instabilities they both shared in this life of Godhood. For it was his heart that driven thus far, and it was his heart that allotted this altered perspective.

"It is why I shall take this heart that has long since escaped my body, injected it back into my soul and once again assert my status as this Imperfect God. For you are right, if I do nothing, I am as good as a mortal without a shred of power in its heart."

In saying that, a calamitous THUMPING vibration shook that which was The Deepest Layer of Hell and a black void could be seen opening up where Deveta's heart should be. It is somewhere within that black abyss, somewhere deep, deep within, is where his heart's true power awaited with the assistance of Khala.

"And I shall satisfy my existence in the way my heart sees fit; now having grasped that shattered fraction of myself, Shinigami."

And with that, he'd let The Lone Spirit drop to the floor; witnessing his spawn follow none-too after his decedent in power. There wasn't an ounce of concern for Iriko from The Demon God, but this time, it was not out of lack of caring. Instead, the powers that lay within his daughter of Semi-Divine nature would prove to be enough to recover him with her prayers to The Gods. If not, then he knew the very essence of his brother, The Soul King, would more then tend to his wounds if it became of grave enough danger to his existence.

"Thus, my Heart now sees fit to bring forth meaning into the world with Khalaism. Like my child, I won't force thy to change, but neither will I be so easily forced away from it. Those who are drawn to its appeal can follow me into purpose, but for now, I must go. I've done enough idling around..."

Uttering those words, there was a stern look across Deveta's face as he now ascended to the heavens and the sense of stability once again oozed over Hell. It was a bizarre thing -- to find such a concept in the midst of what was suppose to be ultimate chaos. Perplexing, but thats just what Godhood was in some eyes. It wasn't meant to be fully understood by mortals, and perhaps he may never be fully understood, but that was indeed the reason for understanding himself. So that by his actions, the meaning could crave itself into the world and create new insight into what this Imperfect God yearned for.

It is why he was ready to now pass Hell's door and figure out methods to improve the design of that which he created in this existence. Taking a glance back Iriko's limb body once more, Deveta knew Khala would handle the rest and let out a cold, yet warm sigh; echoing out these final sentiments:

"...unless thy possess any further words for me to part with, I will ascend to my duties and keep in my pursuit of myself, my people and this world I call my domain."

Fri Dec 05, 2014 4:45 pm

Artist: ZYTOKINE - Song: CONFINED INNOCENT - Word Count: 1081

There was a sharp pulsation surging from within Khala and Deveta in that moment he accepted his heart. It was a feeling of wholeness and unity; as all that The Demon Goddess had ever desired was to be acknowledged and embraced by her true self. So in performing this act that Iriko and Neoveta blessed them with, the union of the divine became that much stronger and there was a noticeable shift in their aura. What once felt weakened and damaged was now becoming mended, repaired and becoming whole once more.

It is why that black void within the core of The Demon God's chest radiated such strength; as his power came not from himself, but from the fire behind his heart. So as he came to terms with what he was, the structure and foundation of his powers could begin to reach the actualized peak that they were intended to. And this was soon reflected on Khala as well.

Spawning forth out of Khala's chest would be an overgrown eyeball that was shut tight. Comparable in size to her breast, this gold sphere of sacred flesh seemed to be riddled in scars all across it; but it seemed to radiate a full-sense of power. As it extended rows of tendrils that injected themselves into Khala's backside, chest and legs; a faint glow of white light with numerous shades of color outlined the edges of this shimmering aura. This then gave way to its eye opening steadily; and the same cataclysmic energy that Iriko felt on the day their powers clashed would be felt once again.

However, as chaotic as this force was, this new found sense of balance within allowed The Godling to better control her power and bring it to a grounding point. So while she could indeed destroy worlds, this unreal energy was in the palm of her hands and she understood her own potential better than ever. Thus, with the love of Iriko, Deveta and Neoveta all swirling around her soul; their light guided the eye of The Goddess to open once more and its blackened gaze would pierce into Iriko's soul and once again serve gratitude for unlocking this new plateau in strength. They'd soon not abuse this gift that the universe birthed them so callously as they did during The Holy War against the Soul Society. For they did not deny the possibility they could slip back into that state, but for the time being, they'd have the discipline to endure these respites within themselves and march forward on their glorious path.

So while Neoveta met the sight of Iriko falling back to the Earth with utter dismay and panic, the self-assurance within The Demon Goddess's Heart felt that the shinigami was going to endure it as he always have. If nothing else, The Godling felt relief and happiness within herself. For, within the depths of her mind, pleasure came to be once her celestial powers were able bring true and utter relief to the Commander's body. Indeed, these not the forced remedies she attempted to thrust on to his soul with her manic desire, but actual and honest to-god release.

Witnessing sight and letting it all, The Goddess could do nothing but rain down tears of happiness from her face as she felt surges of ecstatic elation sparking across and within her body. After coming so far on this journey,The Divine Demoness could do nothing but break down beside Iriko and begin weeping; hovering him with a tearful smile. As she touched his bare skin across his face, the touch of his bare body inflicted the sensation within Khala that everything was going to be ok now.

And from this understanding, she'd attempt to inject these feelings into Neoveta -- if her child would accept that. There was no need to fear this. It was what they all worked towards and this was the ending they all desired. So, as the tears kept streaming from her eyes, Khala stood up and attempted to pick Iriko up with her bare hands and take him away from Neoveta.

"You've....endured enough of this. I could not ask anymore of you for helping me come this far. Come, let me take you back to your home and we can begin making wrongs right." Speaking words that oozed such satisfaction and peace, these sentiments were given a stark contrast to the manic giggle that soon escaped The Godlings lips afterward with her beloved nestled neatly between her arms. There were many parts of herself that wanted to ravish him, make him whole with her and make sweet love to him; but The Godling was in control. Thus, she'd come to understand that these feelings came from her own internal happiness, but would not push them on to Iriko in his weakened state; as she did not yearn to cause him further grief than what she had already put him, his people and his world through.

"I won't thwart your ambition to want to heal Iriko, but you are free to come with us if you must. I...want to go back to the Soul Society. My body...can handle affairs in Demon World, but there is unfinished business I must attend to that I cannot ignore anymore."

With these urgent words spoken, if Deveta was going to take more charge of his actions, then so to would Khala. Thus, with a single thought, a wormhole from hell back to the Soul Society was going to be forged. It came forth as a circular sphere of light forged by Khala's Divine Magic. Once this illuminating glow had dissipated, the likes of The Nation of Khala could be seen and the distant scene of the Seireitei in the distance was shown over this new found world they were in.

An unspecified period of time had certainly passed while they were in hell, but Khala did not seem to be too bothered by this. Instead, she was ready to brave this uncertain storm and walk through hell and fire once more to take command of the ill-deeds she committed.

"So as Deveta said, are you ready...my love? Because I am."

[If Iriko is unable to respond, then they will all move on to their places. Khala will aim to take Iriko back to the Soul Society, while Deveta will move towards Demon World and Neoveta will aim to head back to Earth to take care of Khalaism there]

Mon Dec 08, 2014 5:03 am

Iriko Crow

The Dragon of the North, Seiryuu

"...You are… welcome." The man responded to her please as she said that she understood. His body was going limp as he could see her dashing to his side, though the light had already gone out of his eyes by the time she was able to reach him. "…" The energy she injected into him helped him breath better, before letting out a single statement. "...It is more… like… it has been replaced… by a shadow… No longer sucking… but… unclear…" The Captain Commander to her in reply as he was able to dimly make out her smiling face, and that also brought a small amount of peace to the man.

The man… was tired. His abilities of argument, of combat, of raising the blue truths that flowed from his mouth was reduced to much less than it had originally been. There was only the raw emotions that were left behind, and the most trampling of all of those was still that strange feeling of relief. He had no further words for Deveta. After all, holding combat in the court of the gods was scary enough already. It had taxed the young man's mind, which felt like the red hot of a chainsaw after it had chopped relentlessly into a tree for hours. This was similar to the reaction that Iriko was feeling, as if he had been wielding a double edged sword.

"...And thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory… Amen…" Iriko muttered the final portion of the Lord's Prayer, created as an addendum to the original given by the Christ who appeared on the planet of Earth at the beginning of the Common Era. ...Did she just… grow another breast…? What… the hell… The confused thoughts echoed through the male's mind as he saw the intense glow from Khala's chest, not having any idea at all how he could or should even react to such a thing. However, even with the dim consciousness he currently held he could sense the existence of power wrapping around her body in a peculiar way.

Slowly, the male could feel that his body was being mended, once again. ...Honestly though, why even bother… It will obviously just get wrecked again, just like it has time and time and time again… Ha… it's nothing at all different than from before this, was it…? The male reflected somberly, remembering how he had given up each and every limb with ease at some point, all to maintain the constants of combat. "…" However, he let none of that leak out to them… and even felt himself restraining it from that peculiar bond. Trying to keep it from extending to them, preventing them from being corrupted by that self-loathing impulse, trying to bury it within that relief that he was now feeling all over his body.

Yet, she was still crying. ...Why is she still… crying…? The male wondered to himself as even with his exhausted body, he gently reached the struggling left hand up, the fingers reforming as he brushed them gently against her cheek, just trying to have her calm down. The fingers fell away just as suddenly, as it had taken all the male's energy to perform even this simple action. Now, Iriko was being lifted by her hands, and the words she stated to him appeared before his soul in that strange form of bond that they now contained. ….Wrongs… Wrongs… Yes… we shall… after all… that is why I even came here, yes…? To right this wrong… Words… Are far more powerful than our bodies… But I have no defense, only pure attacking… even in debate… Ah… What does it take to truly care for this world, I wonder…? The male's very being asked himself, as if reaching out towards a shining light that felt as if it would disappear away at any moment.

"...I never asked o be saved… You know this, yes…?" Were the only words that the male's very thoughts could form as his very mind went blank, reflected to them all as she held him, his eyes closed in unconsciousness as a wormhole out of hell had appeared.

..What… have you lot done…? To my ho...me…?

Those were the last words to pass through the mind of the male as he could sense… something. Something was wrong. Something was very, very, very wrong. And yet.. . He was already exhausted. His mind had faded, as he finally went limp in Khala's arms.

Another battle, another war had come to a close. However, for the Tragic Poet, the Subject of this particular Tale, there can be no rest but for these few moments. The innocent expression adopted by the sleeping one as he was held in Khala's arms was different than before. His feature had changed. He was no longer that simple body of a man. Longer limbs, different muscles, sharper ears, sharper teeth… And yet, it was clearly the same expression as the man who had fallen asleep on the ground before Khala. That same look of intense piece, of true satisfaction… and appreciation. He appreciated this ret far more than most could, or would. The hard lines that were always present in his gaze were absent. The constant tint of his jaw in the downwards position was gone, and instead the male's truly soft features, the features of a poet, not a warrior, became clear.

After all, this was not a soldier that was held in her hands. This man was a Poet, a Writer, a Tragedian. However, he could not change his own Tale, no matter how hard he struggled. And he could keep struggling, and struggling, and struggling… the universe would watch him. Those who did not, could not understand - they would surely mock him. They would call the nearly child-like expression he now possessed weak. They would criticize him as a baby, flailing pointlessly against beings far stronger than himself. And yet, he continued to fight - but why?

The answer to this question, and this question alone…

That was what Iriko truly sought.

Core Elements Devised by Aivee

[IRIKO HAS BEEN RENDERED UNCONSCIOUS. EXIT THREAD.]