The true mark of royalty is the devotion and love of one’s followers. The good Sor’s man followed him into the night, while Nadia chains her followers with fear.
Nadia, though powerful, is far from true royalty.
This is quite true, but as the saying goes, “the power makes the rules,” and when that power is untouchable, unbreakable, unfailing, the rules tend to follow suit, and punishments tend to weigh heavier than the poor citizen would dare to take upon themselves willingly.
“True” and “untrue” is a false dichotomy. Empty words futilely defining a imaginable points in the patterns of power, a matter of perspective and nothing more.
The good Sor’s man could have been scared of something more terrible than mere death, that will be inflicted to him when he returns without his master; he could have been in love with Sor not as a vassal to lord, but as a part of platonic/vulgar one/two/multi-sided relationship; he could have been voidminded slave, an automaton of flash, a manpuppet created by Sor’s hand/will/order with a ritual of soul annihilation, forced to obey senseless orders of now eternally-not-dead despot…
Nadia’s followers may be chained by fear – but fear is an expected sensation among mortals in service of goddess, as opposed to more primitive conceptual links between undivine mockeries of divine structures – like, say, “royalty”, “love”, and “devotion”. Do mortal wielders of forgeries of divine Words can ever contemplate love, or they can’t even count the differences of their “love” from love of the Bearer of the Word?
Even so, there can be ones who are truly love Queen Nadia, and truly are devoted to her – if you are willing to cling to “true/false” of course. There can be her wo/men who are blind to her… more harsh nature; ones who consider that a part of true love; ones who just don’t care… And their numbers can be countless, much more than a wooden impersonator of royalty like Sor could ever imagine, steer to his banner much less.
In this world only Might makes Right. One’s only hope lies in correlation of one’s feeble right with the Right of the Mighty.
And if you are in disagreement with this simple fact – change the order things, and make it right.
With a greater Might.
And wallow in hypocrisy.
That Dream -of- Adam Thret (and a third I left off as a challenge to anyone who can figure it out)
Is royalty, then, to lead your people, willing or unwilling, into death? For no man or god can be presumed to command or inspire every single soul he rules over, and the minority who disagree with them always suffer for their whims of what is justice and righteousness, suffering for their actions in their economy or wars, when the only thing they wish is to live in peace and happy.
A king that seeks more wars and brings more suffering can claim no royalty but a fool’s theathrical farce, but we must understand and pity him for he doesn’t know what is it that he does and the misery he will bring.
To antagonize an absolute force of nature is to seek death. But as a king, his death will bring the deaths of thousands more, and he cares not. Truly arrogance!
Yet what, glorious Queen, when nobody would do your bidding any more? Would you use the Art to sustain your court, or twist the minds of your subjects actively? How embarrassing that would be.
It freaks this simple skull out that the sceptre of a goddess is the fork she uses to stuff herself with profane food.
She does not need to make anyone bow down to her. Followers and sycophants will come regardless, whether she be kind of cruel. Such is the right of one who has laid claim to the heavens themselves.
Yes, that is the unfortunate standard. I have seen, though – from a far lesser position – what can happen when a ruler loses those who actually sustain them. Not the court, which is just a fancy version of a midden, but those below. You can force the farmers, but only if you have soldiers; you need to amuse the traders, or you will have no gold; you need gold to pay the soldiers, or they shall turn away. This is the moment when the lowly appear insolent, whether you deserve it or not. The Art, or any other personal might, can save your hide, but not your throne; or your throne, but not your hide. A courtier, lazy and stuffed with riches, aims at this throne, and you end up a skull with a hole in your calotte.
That said, at least I am not a shriveled mummy.
Such, then, is the Art of a Queen! To save your hide and your throne. Surely I have been exposed to the Art of many a kween, but mama Om, honey? She done snatched the crown, in my opinion. Bitch has the skills and the beauty.
I’m not so sure, Mourning Skull. My master frequently says that a courtiers’ only skill is the ability to get paid for laziness. Without Om, they would be forced to work, and I can’t see their soft hands properly operating a welding torch
He got to within an inch of her face. If only he had aimed at her hat. it sticks out a bit. And with the way it is attached to her neck it might have given the bearer of the word glory some glorious whiplash at the least.
Martial arts are great in that they train the reflexes to automatically go through a properly performed series of movements without the time needed for thought and analysis.
Which is also why someone that has studied the movements of martial artists will sometimes make kicking their heinies look easy.
She turned Pryan Sor to a tree from a much greater distance.
The fist was allowed as close as it was for dramatic effect.
She should get her bodyguards checked, they got blitzed pretty bad by a guy with sorta good martial arts. Sure she can take care of it herself, but her throne room guards should be faster than some tree’s second in command.
They’re probably perfectly able to handle anyone who Nadia would regard as beneath her attention. i.e. You standard, boring, everyday assassins and thieves.
The King and his servant were at least gutsy and gave her a perfect set up to remind people of her power.
Perhaps each of the 7 demiurges guards a different syllable with a unique meaning.
Although White Chain listed as part of it’s resume knowing a couple of the syllables of royalty.
Perhaps gluttony is the subversion of glory, a virtue rendered ugly without moderation.
Reckless supposition will be the end of me, perhaps.
“Perhaps gluttony is the subversion of glory, a virtue rendered ugly without moderation.”
One of the best bits of analysis I’ve read here in a while.
Your reckless supposition has edified me.
I would subscribe this, if I had hands.
Long time I’ve been curious what those syllables are.
Glory, and perhaps Strength (hi Jagganoth), Foresight (a certain mumbling lady), Cunning (I’d blame this one on the Grand Red Dragon), Compassion or Empathy (you can always drag it into bed like Incubus did, it’s very useful there … unless you are a damned skull! ahem, excuse me), Grace or Mercy (Solomon), yet I am lost at guessing what syllable Gog-Agog holds; there are quite some possible left, and she’s a makabre parody of many things. Perhaps Wisdom, or Persistance.
I don’t expect them to overlap with Catholic belief, since it includes deference of one god, and these seven are all gods themselves.
I’m amazed by his skill in getting past the Queens body guards. Who also look those of the Emperor from Starwars, one earths best storeis made in recent years.
There have been some rather glaring security breaches today in the goddesses’ palace. Is it possible that she purposely hires incompetent guards, giving herself the occasional opportunity to demonstrate her power? Or are the logistics of ruling 1/7th of creation so immense that such errors are inevitable?
The latter is not even in question. Over a hundred thousand universes to rule. That is neither easy nor simple to govern.
Alternatively, the man realized that everyone was shocked by the King turning into a tree, and seized his chance. He got very lucky to get as far as he did. He was also very unlucky.
On a side note, I’m still having trouble believing that the Queen actually sits through these endless, dreary tribute-offering sessions in person. At least I suppose she doesn’t hold them on a daily basis?
“…none could have seen that terrible red corpse city, and its inhuman masters, whose exhalation was death…” Age of Fire, attributed to the sage-poet Avsa Galman.
And I thought they were simply being poetic about sovereign brutality. Perhaps we should take such writings much more literally from here on…
Power wielded with control and restraint, yet out of league to any other than a goddess. To show defiance is to invite a torturous end, the light dims.
She didn’t need to turn him into flowery confetti but she did anyway because nothings better than a badass entrance.
Now that, THAT is the mark of royalty.
Turning your enemies into a rain of cherry blossoms. A-plus display. Flashy, but leaves no lasting reminder for your enemies to study.
You know, other than the flower petals. But those are part of the room’s decoration now, so… *Shrug*
The true mark of royalty is the devotion and love of one’s followers. The good Sor’s man followed him into the night, while Nadia chains her followers with fear.
Nadia, though powerful, is far from true royalty.
This is quite true, but as the saying goes, “the power makes the rules,” and when that power is untouchable, unbreakable, unfailing, the rules tend to follow suit, and punishments tend to weigh heavier than the poor citizen would dare to take upon themselves willingly.
“True” and “untrue” is a false dichotomy. Empty words futilely defining a imaginable points in the patterns of power, a matter of perspective and nothing more.
The good Sor’s man could have been scared of something more terrible than mere death, that will be inflicted to him when he returns without his master; he could have been in love with Sor not as a vassal to lord, but as a part of platonic/vulgar one/two/multi-sided relationship; he could have been voidminded slave, an automaton of flash, a manpuppet created by Sor’s hand/will/order with a ritual of soul annihilation, forced to obey senseless orders of now eternally-not-dead despot…
Nadia’s followers may be chained by fear – but fear is an expected sensation among mortals in service of goddess, as opposed to more primitive conceptual links between undivine mockeries of divine structures – like, say, “royalty”, “love”, and “devotion”. Do mortal wielders of forgeries of divine Words can ever contemplate love, or they can’t even count the differences of their “love” from love of the Bearer of the Word?
Even so, there can be ones who are truly love Queen Nadia, and truly are devoted to her – if you are willing to cling to “true/false” of course. There can be her wo/men who are blind to her… more harsh nature; ones who consider that a part of true love; ones who just don’t care… And their numbers can be countless, much more than a wooden impersonator of royalty like Sor could ever imagine, steer to his banner much less.
In this world only Might makes Right. One’s only hope lies in correlation of one’s feeble right with the Right of the Mighty.
And if you are in disagreement with this simple fact – change the order things, and make it right.
With a greater Might.
And wallow in hypocrisy.
Laconic phrases need more advocates.
Is royalty, then, to lead your people, willing or unwilling, into death? For no man or god can be presumed to command or inspire every single soul he rules over, and the minority who disagree with them always suffer for their whims of what is justice and righteousness, suffering for their actions in their economy or wars, when the only thing they wish is to live in peace and happy.
A king that seeks more wars and brings more suffering can claim no royalty but a fool’s theathrical farce, but we must understand and pity him for he doesn’t know what is it that he does and the misery he will bring.
To antagonize an absolute force of nature is to seek death. But as a king, his death will bring the deaths of thousands more, and he cares not. Truly arrogance!
Master Oogway did it better, of course, his was an exit.
goddess bless
Yet what, glorious Queen, when nobody would do your bidding any more? Would you use the Art to sustain your court, or twist the minds of your subjects actively? How embarrassing that would be.
It freaks this simple skull out that the sceptre of a goddess is the fork she uses to stuff herself with profane food.
She does not need to make anyone bow down to her. Followers and sycophants will come regardless, whether she be kind of cruel. Such is the right of one who has laid claim to the heavens themselves.
Yes, that is the unfortunate standard. I have seen, though – from a far lesser position – what can happen when a ruler loses those who actually sustain them. Not the court, which is just a fancy version of a midden, but those below. You can force the farmers, but only if you have soldiers; you need to amuse the traders, or you will have no gold; you need gold to pay the soldiers, or they shall turn away. This is the moment when the lowly appear insolent, whether you deserve it or not. The Art, or any other personal might, can save your hide, but not your throne; or your throne, but not your hide. A courtier, lazy and stuffed with riches, aims at this throne, and you end up a skull with a hole in your calotte.
That said, at least I am not a shriveled mummy.
Such, then, is the Art of a Queen! To save your hide and your throne. Surely I have been exposed to the Art of many a kween, but mama Om, honey? She done snatched the crown, in my opinion. Bitch has the skills and the beauty.
I’m not so sure, Mourning Skull. My master frequently says that a courtiers’ only skill is the ability to get paid for laziness. Without Om, they would be forced to work, and I can’t see their soft hands properly operating a welding torch
Holy Shit. I would never mess with her.
certainly the excrement of a goddess would be holy indeed.
=//=
SHE CERTAINLY LIKES MAKING A MESS OF AN OCCAISION.
(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ
He got to within an inch of her face. If only he had aimed at her hat. it sticks out a bit. And with the way it is attached to her neck it might have given the bearer of the word glory some glorious whiplash at the least.
he only got as close as she allowed. nothing he could have done would have ended differently
I will keep this tactic in mind in case I ever need to battle an evil deity who wears large fancy hats.
Everyone knows that hats are the true bearers of power. The “goddess” under the hat merely exists as an extension of the hat’s will.
Your shameless advertisement for the Haberdasher’s Guild has been observed and noted.
I wonder what INGSVLD paid him for this endorsement. My next fan-fiction may delve into this matter.
Methinks she let him so closewise for the spectacle of the thing.
Martial arts are great in that they train the reflexes to automatically go through a properly performed series of movements without the time needed for thought and analysis.
Which is also why someone that has studied the movements of martial artists will sometimes make kicking their heinies look easy.
She turned Pryan Sor to a tree from a much greater distance.
The fist was allowed as close as it was for dramatic effect.
Hm, looks like Magic Users still need to speak to cast spells, even if they’re gods.
Her glutting may be her undoing. Strike while she is swallowing.
All of which raises the question: if the servant cannot be scratched by these poor generals, what can our Alison do against the Queen?
Take heed, Alison, and may guile gild your path to power.
Get Nadia to trip and fall on a sword?
I won’t be terribly surprised if her first kill manages to come off as a ludicrous coincidence to anyone who isn’t paying close attention.
I still hold that her face is incredibly punchable, if one can reach it.
‘Utter Bitch’ has seems to left out of that explanation…
There’s a bit of a Kill Bill vibe in this page, I think.
*Blumenkranz starts playing in the goddamn background*
*Nods approvingly*
Ragyu is probably STILL a worse mother though.
Diese welt ist grausam, es ist traurig aber wahr!
Diese gelt ist seltsam, es ist fraglich aber wahr!
Ist der Blumengarten, echt oder falsch!?
Wow, that is a perfect music selection for this scene.
She should get her bodyguards checked, they got blitzed pretty bad by a guy with sorta good martial arts. Sure she can take care of it herself, but her throne room guards should be faster than some tree’s second in command.
They’re just for show. Mottom, evidently, has no need for bodyguards.
They’re probably perfectly able to handle anyone who Nadia would regard as beneath her attention. i.e. You standard, boring, everyday assassins and thieves.
The King and his servant were at least gutsy and gave her a perfect set up to remind people of her power.
he couldn’t stay here any longer, he really had to leaf
Humor tells you where the tragedy is.
Glory that word strangely resonates with this Fool for some reason. Is this one of the syllables of royalty I don’t comprehend?
Perhaps each of the 7 demiurges guards a different syllable with a unique meaning.
Although White Chain listed as part of it’s resume knowing a couple of the syllables of royalty.
Perhaps gluttony is the subversion of glory, a virtue rendered ugly without moderation.
Reckless supposition will be the end of me, perhaps.
“Perhaps gluttony is the subversion of glory, a virtue rendered ugly without moderation.”
One of the best bits of analysis I’ve read here in a while.
Your reckless supposition has edified me.
I would subscribe this, if I had hands.
Long time I’ve been curious what those syllables are.
Glory, and perhaps Strength (hi Jagganoth), Foresight (a certain mumbling lady), Cunning (I’d blame this one on the Grand Red Dragon), Compassion or Empathy (you can always drag it into bed like Incubus did, it’s very useful there … unless you are a damned skull! ahem, excuse me), Grace or Mercy (Solomon), yet I am lost at guessing what syllable Gog-Agog holds; there are quite some possible left, and she’s a makabre parody of many things. Perhaps Wisdom, or Persistance.
I don’t expect them to overlap with Catholic belief, since it includes deference of one god, and these seven are all gods themselves.
YS : Glory. Realization of divine unity; the blending and merging of man’s mind with God-Mind.
I’m amazed by his skill in getting past the Queens body guards. Who also look those of the Emperor from Starwars, one earths best storeis made in recent years.
“True it is,/ That these are not the droids for which thou search’st.
-Obi-Wan “Ben” Kenobi”
And now, what kind of expression does our heroine has on her face?
There have been some rather glaring security breaches today in the goddesses’ palace. Is it possible that she purposely hires incompetent guards, giving herself the occasional opportunity to demonstrate her power? Or are the logistics of ruling 1/7th of creation so immense that such errors are inevitable?
The latter is not even in question. Over a hundred thousand universes to rule. That is neither easy nor simple to govern.
Alternatively, the man realized that everyone was shocked by the King turning into a tree, and seized his chance. He got very lucky to get as far as he did. He was also very unlucky.
Allison: “Well, so much for asking nicely. Now, what was plan B…? Crap, there wasn’t one.”
On a side note, I’m still having trouble believing that the Queen actually sits through these endless, dreary tribute-offering sessions in person. At least I suppose she doesn’t hold them on a daily basis?
“…none could have seen that terrible red corpse city, and its inhuman masters, whose exhalation was death…” Age of Fire, attributed to the sage-poet Avsa Galman.
And I thought they were simply being poetic about sovereign brutality. Perhaps we should take such writings much more literally from here on…
Power wielded with control and restraint, yet out of league to any other than a goddess. To show defiance is to invite a torturous end, the light dims.
Queen of 1/7 of the universe. Wears that hat.
I will never understand humans…
It is an -excellent- hat.
What don’t you understand? If you were queen of 1/7 of the universe, no one would dare tell you that wearing that hat was a terrible idea either.
Ah, the Queen. Gods pray to be saved from her.
*squeals like a fangirl*
I’m definitely crushing on Nadia *3*
Also, those guards have very good reflexes!
[Blumenkranz Intensifies]