To be fair, Allison started the war when she took out Mottom’s tree. One way or another, that was always going to kick off a multiverse wide conflict.
It’s just taken this long to catch up to her.
War is inexorable as the tide, and creeps in as steadily as entropy. Many strong, intelligent, and charismatic men spend whole diplomatic careers trying to prop up peace. To forestall the inevitable. But such men are mortal still, and their efforts are rarely duplicated contiguously after their passing.
Peace is hard. War is depressingly easy. And when it is ignited, it crawls up the fuse to set off explosive action. Such is the way of things.
I rather doubt the trillions who will die will appreciate the subtle distinction that a) war was inevitable and b) they were always going to die eventually. To them, the difference is matter of some import.
They didn’t start crap, they accidentally into a war, started implies intent.
Correct terminology, as laid down by the high angel comission itself, 2 point 3 kalpas ago (give or take a few hundred million years), translated properly from the Old Tongue clearly states that they “FUBARED a war.”
I think the punishment is forced reincarnation into a microbe, albeit people of high standing and where there are mitigating circumstances (clearly not relevant here) they may opt to be reincarnated into a C. Elegans earthworm instead (or the closest local universe equalent).
Anyway that hotpot looks delicious, so at least they got something out of this whole ordeal.
Allison seems to be in dire need of food, more rest and cuddles. All three I’m sure Cio will be happy to facilitate. Also a change of sheets to replace those blood soaked ones might be needed, though from what I understand a devil might consider those a bonus and not realized the health hazard they represent for a human.
Also, I love the hair. Definitely sends the message “Yeah, I made out with the main character, what are you going to do about it?”
I don’t think Allison’s blood is any more dangerous to her outside her body than it is inside of it. Well, the fact that she lost a *lot* of it might be a health hazard.
In seeking vengeance the red queen broke peace and boarders. 7 keys shall shatter before there is peace again, though many more shall perish.
Those who are human shall have the gift of living but once in such terrible times. Those who are dead shall finally have a few more to talk to, though they never say much of interest. Many an angel will see the wastes and walk them to forget all other things. and the streets shall be paved with broken masks.
The thing I love most about this room? The heavy, bolted-down chain leading under the bed. It’s nice to know even the monster under the bed is accounted for in Al-Yis-Un’s bedroom.
I hope they managed to keep at least a little of the loot. Though with gold coins spilling over the landscape, I expect the price of gold will be going through the floor, at least until people start collecting it and optionally carting it off to other worlds.
On the night of my thirty-third day as disciple of the Broken Sage, bedded down in an alley among dogs and fleas, I desired a story. Lost in impetuous childhood in spite of our hardships, I yearned for tales of glorious battle.
“Master, tell me of the nature of war.” I begged.
Silence smothered the alley, broken only by the whimpering of dogs and for a time I thought my master asleep. Before I drifted off among parasites and curs, I heard his voice split the night like a rusted sword, briefly unsheathed.
“War Is Fire. Now, shut up and sleep.”
It was my first real lesson from the Broken Sage, and pondering it has kept me up for many nights since. For a time, I even made a close study of fire, to better know its truths. Fire can create, destroy, protect, harm, warm, burn, illuminate, blind, delight and devastate by turns.
Fire is many things.
But like War, it always consumes and transforms.
– Grumblings of the Broken Sage, From the Hand of the Mangled Prince
On the night of my thirty-third day as disciple of the Broken Sage, bedded down in an alley among dogs and fleas, I desired a story. Lost in impetuous childhood in spite of our hardships, I yearned for tales of glorious battle.
“Master, tell me of the nature of war.” I begged.
Silence smothered the alley, broken only by the whimpering of dogs and for a time I thought my master asleep. Before I drifted off among parasites and curs, I heard his voice split the night like a rusted sword, briefly unsheathed.
“War Is Fire. Now, shut up and sleep.”
It was my first real lesson from the Broken Sage, and pondering it has kept me up for many nights since. For a time, I even made a close study of fire, to better know its truths.
Fire is many things. But like War, it always consumes and transforms.
– Grumblings of the Broken Sage, From the Hand of the Mangled Prince
In the most basic sense, yes.
In that which might be named truth, they have scratched a Throne’s abscess and now a thick and bloody pus seeks to cover the Red City.
Love the hair.
Live the hair.
Build a temple from the bones of your enemies to the hair.
But what about Grampa Dragon ? :(((
He’s around. Being a dragon. Burninating the countryside. You know how it is.
To be fair, Allison started the war when she took out Mottom’s tree. One way or another, that was always going to kick off a multiverse wide conflict.
It’s just taken this long to catch up to her.
War is inexorable as the tide, and creeps in as steadily as entropy. Many strong, intelligent, and charismatic men spend whole diplomatic careers trying to prop up peace. To forestall the inevitable. But such men are mortal still, and their efforts are rarely duplicated contiguously after their passing.
Peace is hard. War is depressingly easy. And when it is ignited, it crawls up the fuse to set off explosive action. Such is the way of things.
I rather doubt the trillions who will die will appreciate the subtle distinction that a) war was inevitable and b) they were always going to die eventually. To them, the difference is matter of some import.
Ciocie’s words here are distinctly familiar to me, on a certain level. Mercenaries are familiar with those words on some level or another.
Now to wait for Allison Ruth to put out the request for mercenaries.
New haircuts! Cute new haircuts for everyone!
Well, on the one hand, waking up with those wounds just about seems like the worst thing in the world.
On the other hand, I would also love to wake up to that stew Cio is making. Looks delicious.
On the THIRD hand: DAT PIXIE CUT
>Short haired Cio
SOILED IT! SOILED IT! SOILED IT!
They didn’t start crap, they accidentally into a war, started implies intent.
Correct terminology, as laid down by the high angel comission itself, 2 point 3 kalpas ago (give or take a few hundred million years), translated properly from the Old Tongue clearly states that they “FUBARED a war.”
I think the punishment is forced reincarnation into a microbe, albeit people of high standing and where there are mitigating circumstances (clearly not relevant here) they may opt to be reincarnated into a C. Elegans earthworm instead (or the closest local universe equalent).
Anyway that hotpot looks delicious, so at least they got something out of this whole ordeal.
Ach, well, started a war; anyone can do that on a good day. Now, finishing a war …
Allison seems to be in dire need of food, more rest and cuddles. All three I’m sure Cio will be happy to facilitate. Also a change of sheets to replace those blood soaked ones might be needed, though from what I understand a devil might consider those a bonus and not realized the health hazard they represent for a human.
Also, I love the hair. Definitely sends the message “Yeah, I made out with the main character, what are you going to do about it?”
I don’t think Allison’s blood is any more dangerous to her outside her body than it is inside of it. Well, the fact that she lost a *lot* of it might be a health hazard.
Cool. Ten bucks on the scary chick with the whips.
*offended Axe of Judication noises*
Cio is best girl
Can’t say I’m digging Cio’s hairstyle. Given her previous comments about self reflection/discovery, it seems a little trite.
I approve of Cio’s haircut, and also of her wonderful selection of vegetables and fungi.
Compared to these important things, a war that devastates a million galaxies is but a trivial matter, as long as the cat is ok.
Understatement of the century
They accidentally a whole war.
Yo, dutiful as allways whoops that was autocorrected from beautiful but ILL TAKE IT
In seeking vengeance the red queen broke peace and boarders. 7 keys shall shatter before there is peace again, though many more shall perish.
Those who are human shall have the gift of living but once in such terrible times. Those who are dead shall finally have a few more to talk to, though they never say much of interest. Many an angel will see the wastes and walk them to forget all other things. and the streets shall be paved with broken masks.
“So business as usual, then?”
Aberdeen’s environments are always so glorious.
The thing I love most about this room? The heavy, bolted-down chain leading under the bed. It’s nice to know even the monster under the bed is accounted for in Al-Yis-Un’s bedroom.
“Here again”
Nice Evangelion reference.
I hope they managed to keep at least a little of the loot. Though with gold coins spilling over the landscape, I expect the price of gold will be going through the floor, at least until people start collecting it and optionally carting it off to other worlds.
Read up on Mansa Musa’s pilgrimage and what it did to the economy of Cairo sometime :P.
On the night of my thirty-third day as disciple of the Broken Sage, bedded down in an alley among dogs and fleas, I desired a story. Lost in impetuous childhood in spite of our hardships, I yearned for tales of glorious battle.
“Master, tell me of the nature of war.” I begged.
Silence smothered the alley, broken only by the whimpering of dogs and for a time I thought my master asleep. Before I drifted off among parasites and curs, I heard his voice split the night like a rusted sword, briefly unsheathed.
“War Is Fire. Now, shut up and sleep.”
It was my first real lesson from the Broken Sage, and pondering it has kept me up for many nights since. For a time, I even made a close study of fire, to better know its truths. Fire can create, destroy, protect, harm, warm, burn, illuminate, blind, delight and devastate by turns.
Fire is many things.
But like War, it always consumes and transforms.
– Grumblings of the Broken Sage, From the Hand of the Mangled Prince
On the night of my thirty-third day as disciple of the Broken Sage, bedded down in an alley among dogs and fleas, I desired a story. Lost in impetuous childhood in spite of our hardships, I yearned for tales of glorious battle.
“Master, tell me of the nature of war.” I begged.
Silence smothered the alley, broken only by the whimpering of dogs and for a time I thought my master asleep. Before I drifted off among parasites and curs, I heard his voice split the night like a rusted sword, briefly unsheathed.
“War Is Fire. Now, shut up and sleep.”
It was my first real lesson from the Broken Sage, and pondering it has kept me up for many nights since. For a time, I even made a close study of fire, to better know its truths.
Fire is many things. But like War, it always consumes and transforms.
– Grumblings of the Broken Sage, From the Hand of the Mangled Prince