Wielder of Names 4-62
“The land was gone. I couldn’t believe it. Whole stretches of the earth were all rent up, as though torn by some monstrous beast. Ash covered the land where the orchards had been, and even the air was choked with an oily rain. I grabbed a passing indigent, picking through the filth like a stray dog.
‘What in Hells’ name happened here?’ I asked, aghast.
‘The queen came to take what was owed her,” said the man, looking dazed. His flesh was spare and cracked, like leather. I was suddenly aware of the bones poking up under his skin.
‘Debts? The orchards? The crop? Blast it, man, what did she come for? Why wreak such destruction across the whole land?’
‘No,’ gaped the man, ‘That’s what she came for.’
‘What?’ I said, with sudden realization.
‘Everything,’ said the man. I released him and he stumbled back to picking through the dirt. I covered my face with my scarf. The black rain fell. I didn’t stay long.”
– Payapop Pritrum, Memoirs
It is a curious thing, to the unschooled, that the Divinities insist they be remembered as they were when they were young. Surely they would prefer to be seen at the heights of their power, the gods whose sevenfold heel rests on the throat of the universe!
And yet the images they commission are of when their nobility was still freshly won, and they were not yet bent and twisted under all its terrible weight.
The seven retched rulers were indeed at the height of their power when they were young. A ruler’s power is inseparably connected to the worlds they rule. As their their domains have become more and more retched and impotent, so have they become as well.
Mostly though, I think they’re just dicks.
Pride is not a sin of gods. It’s more of a base state, a point from which further sins and virtues can sprout from. Mostly sins though.
Almost exclusively.
The only virtue that can be born of pride is Mercy, to ones foes, to the starving…so on…and it is still less pure than Forgiveness.
/slow clap XD
I think you mean “wretched”. “Retched” as a passive construction means the rulers and their worlds were puked out by someone. Which, admittedly, could make for a good metaphor, and of course it opens the doors for puns, sooo many puns.
This is why I would never attempt any linguistically based sorcery with out a competent assistant such as yourself to correct my errors. Otherwise who knows what changes to reality I might inadvertently disgorge.
That is wise of you, Healer.
After all, when enchanting, one should always use spellcheck. 😉
Not sure if the all of The Seven actually would rely on such embellishment. Solomon and Incubus look as young as ever, even if it might be a glamor. Jagganoth and Jadis look different, but the former is probably proud of his scars and the latter doesn’t seem to mind depicting herself as rather plain and abstract (see her self-portait on page 4-78).
Mammon and Gog-a-gog aren’t even human. Mammon is of a servant race and thus doesn’t really age, and Gog-a-gog is a collection of worms who was constantly veiling their true form even in her days of youth. As an aside, Gog-a-Gog’s endless mimicry has probably left her or her servants with enough expertise in aesthetics to be more appropriate curators of this palace than Mottom, though I can’t speak for temperament.
Seeing how much this world and the palace passing through it exude the nature of Mottom has gotten me excited to see how the other demiurges leave their mark on their own worlds. While I’m sure their status of negligent masters of the multiverse leaves much in common, I look forward to seeing what distinctions and exceptions will be revealed among them.
Mottom’s statue is not up to date, I’d say devotion comes easier to the beautiful and old Nadia knows that.
Mottom is not up to date either.
I just have this feeling they’re not going to get along well.
Ah its good to have servants who know how to prepare your meals just right. Some worship throw in with a little bit fear to tenderize but not spoil the food. I wonder does she eat them whole? Maybe just the flesh or might she be more interested in the youth or their very souls.
My watch once took me along the roads to the Palace of Radiance. Luckily, my oaths demanded that I kept walking.
My soul flame flickers in anticipation!! In just four cycles we will have the honor of laying our eyes upon Divinity! May our holy flames be consumed, and as a result, replenish the will of great Mother Om!!
“The world says: “You have needs — satisfy them. You have as much right as the rich and the mighty. Don’t hesitate to satisfy your needs; indeed, expand your needs and demand more.” This is the worldly doctrine of today. And they believe that this is freedom. The result for the rich is isolation and suicide, for the poor, envy and murder.”
If the world said otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to remain in business. And that would be terrible!
Luckily, I’ll be in business until all the Wheel is dust.
Not long now. I do look forward to seeing how the Queen presents herself to mortals.
Note she did not use the word “Taxes”, but “Harvest”. A very important distinction.
You cannot gorge yourself on taxes.
A harvest fits down your gullet.
Depends on what you use for currency.
Also: Other terms she hasn’t used include “tithe”, “tribute”, and “sacrifice”, I suspect because none of those capture the scope or scale of the Offering.
Can one not also harvest Cotton? A tax can be taken that the taxed are providing a portion of what belongs to them to the taxer. It does not belong to them. It belongs to Mother Om, it has simply taken her a while to collect it.
Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his own brow?
“No,” says Mother Om, “It belongs down my gullet!”
Says the Elephantine Tower, it belongs to my forges.
Says the Grand Dragon, it belongs to my tallymasters.
Says the Queen of Worms, it belongs to my legions.
Says the Prime Justice, it belongs to my glory.
Says the Prince of Dreaming, you sweat for ME.
Says the Witch In Glass, it matters not.
Says Kill Six Billion Demons: Don’t wear it out.
Sweat baby sweat baby sex is a Texas drought
*Has managed to make a break for it after throwing what could of possibly been bad yogurt or a very fine cheese from a passing merchant at one of his captors eyes and legging it through the crowd. The distance he put betwixt him and his pursuers offered them only his fading decree of regretting nothing*
=End of PART 3 of Pibbles the Peculiar’s Particular Plot=
I shudder to think of the complicated grasp of etiquette necessary in such a circumstance. My simple and unschooled tongue leads me into trouble even amongst my master’s lowliest clients, and Lady Alice walks now in the presence of Divinity!
Al: “Yo.”
The Queen: “Waaaaaasuuup?”
I want this to be canon.
Like, Mottom : “Ya know how they speak in da street! C’mon, sista! Imma hug ya”
Witch, gimme dat christian scythe-hug!
Kill Six Billion Demons : Ghetto Edition
No, no, then it becomes: Keel Dem Demons, Six Billion Of ‘Em!
Hopefully, they will break in a song number again
Terrible indeed is the fire that brings a black rain.
An ode to Mottom’s statue:
It makes her look so young
Like way back before she ate a ton
And every time you see that grin
She looks like such a happy grand divinity~
And everytime she speaks
With jagged teeth and a jaw that creaks
I wanna go and howl at the moon
Just like a Lovecraftian loon~
Oh Mommyyyy Om~
Has a hunger she needs to sate
And how lovely of little Allie
To prance right out onto her plate~?
Yes, it makes her look so young
Like way back when her realm was won
By deeds most foul done
Like the rhymes of this song I have sung
And even though Ma’s old and grey
She’ll easily take your skiiiin and flaaaay
And then, you ‘ll make her look so young~
The tools of statecraft are twin: violence and fear.
What beauty wrought,
by the hands of slaves,
to the glory of their master.
Is devotion not contempt?
Young Nadia Om seems so pure I wanna hug her <3
She looks eerily similar to Alison. I wonder whether that was deliberate.
I think it is. Like the text about Mottom conquering a new world, where it spoke about a lady with golden hair.
Yes, physically, Nadia and Allison are similar. But in their character? I doubt it.
I can’t wait for their face-to-face.
Resources exist to be consumed. And consumed they will be, if not by this generation then by some future. By what right does this forgotten future seek to deny us our birthright? None I say! Let us take what is ours, chew and eat our fill.
Nwabudike Morgan, ‘The Ethics of Greed’
(Bonus points to whoever recognizes the quote. Not exactly the right genre for this story, but I thought it was appropriate.)
SMAC.
And in the circles that would recognize the quote it’s done to death.
The observant take note of the statue’s dismembered head and are careful to keep their own.
only the penitent one will pass
More revolutions are born of hunger than any other drive known to man angel or demon.
Now we see her as base as she is. Mottom, Hag o’ Hags, Rotten-toothed Gran of a Thousand Bastard Bairns, The Gullet Which Devours a Thousand Thousand Worlds and Spits Forth Ruin and Despair, Her Whose Cup Brim O’er With the Sweat and Blood of Seven Million Seven Hundred and Seventy Seven Thousand Seven Hundred and Seventy Seven Workers, and yet here she sits without the pride to show her as she is, simpering behind the pretty face of her youth before her terror, not daring to let any think of her as anything but pretty, not even she herself.
By refusing to let herself be old, she remains naught but a child.
So no one’s commented on how similar Allison looks to the statue! Hm. I’d like it to be some form of foreshadowing, or perhaps a nice set-up for mistaken identity/divinity.
All black daughters of YS look mostly alike in their deceitful youth.
This one tells them apart by how strong their noses and chin are, which that statue of Nadia has in abundance.
to depict the queen of famine atop a overflowing cornucopia is truly perverse.
=//=
IF YOU CAN TAKE ALL THAT YOU DESIRE, CAN YOU TRULY EVER BE SATED?
How appropriate that you, among all, would speak of principal insatiability, when your full name and title abbreviate to “TEASE”.
I wonder if at harvest feast Mottom will appear as of old or in truth. This one believes she may even be visibly rejuvenated by her feasting.
I shall haste to the Queen swiftly,
a slender body clad in gold to tell of youth,
crowned with a diamond to shine upon her heart,
winged with the feathers of an angel to traverse the Void,
I shall fall towards the ground, facing her.
All she yearns I will bring to her,
if you only dare to draw the string and lift the bow, and aim.
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