Not that far off what I was expecting, though I was thinking more Audrey and less a hanging tree. I shouldn’t have, because we’ve already seen her make trees of kings, and that fruit…
Because it has an “easily acquired” source of fertilizer? I mean, I doubt the virtuous king who bravely defied the tyrant queen wants young maiden flesh. There’s also the fact that Hastet Om was a Demiurge, which would mean his will and power was strong enough to bring himself back from the dead (in a manner of speaking) to demand sacrifices. The fruit that grows from his branches may be even more potent, then.
It would seem so. She relies on her husband for eternal youth, but must constantly feed him young virgin blood to ensure that youth. Such is gluttony. Such is GLORY.
Of all the reasons for violence, glory is the one which most puzzled me as a child, for I knew no way of pinning down of what glory really was, exactly. But it seemed to be the greatest cause of war, for no base vice was ever the rallying cry of an army that I’ve ever heard of.
Looking back through history, one nation might invade another in act of revenge, but going back further, when did such cycles of invading begin? The answer, it seemed, was always with glory. No one would give me a better answer, but suggested I delay taking action rather than publicly rallying for the end of glory as a justification for military invasion.
Based on what I currently gather: If glory is what is praised, loved, demanded and honored by the people, then to fight for the glory of something is the fight to make it popular. Therefore, if one seeks to bring about righteousness in a world of the reviled, one should take care to avoid using glorification of righteousness as a guarantee of righteousness, to prevent vileness from hiding beneath a veil of praise.
I can not tell you what use is glory in this story of gods and immortals. But. In our world. Glory is power. It is to be known. By kings and peasants alike. There is power in that. And then, when you die, so long as people remember your name, its like you still live on. Glory is the closest form of immortality we have.
Humanity is Aesma’s mistake, Preem DaffGrind, forged from the aspect of YIS drawn from the Flame Eternal. At best, humanity is YIS’ misbegotten grandchildren.
I’m not certain I understand what provoked this humble correction, however your statement is technically accurate.
That is what the liturgy refers to them as, but they are only “daughters of Yis” in the same sense that the Aeons are “White sons of Un”. That is to say, technically yes, but not really.
I believe Jesus and Christ are twin divinities from the Edge Kingdoms of Sondare. Don’t know what they have to do with any of these, nor why they have decided to engage in incest.
No, they were referring to Jesús Fucking Christ. A demon hunter from one of the Earths in Incubus’s domain.
Few people know, but “Fucking” is a valid middle name in some worlds. Just as one of Jesús’s demon hunting pals, Garcia Fucking Hotspur. That man’s journey through his local version of hell is legendary.
Ah, so this is the fate of the chosen maidens. This one supposes that of all the fates that could befall a beautiful young maiden this one is perhaps not the worst. This one also wonders, however, what would happen if this gruesome tree-man was not feed his tithe of blood.
Perhaps it was meant to be this way, her fate may lie elsewhere. Perhaps, even, she is meant to be of some assistance to our beloved Alison. Think: the place she comes from puts great emphasis on being chosen, and it would bode ill for her if she were to suddenly return home, claiming that mysterious stranger had taken her place. She would be an outcast! Unable to return home for threat of persecution, and with little knowledge of the world beyond her borders, what else can she do but seek out that stranger?
Imagine having the job description of “blood-waterer of the queen’s husband.” Just… draining wife-blood, feeding it to the gaping mouth of the eternal tree-corpse and harvesting his immortality-granting crotch fruit. Imagine going home to your spouse and kids knowing you spend the vast majority of your time literally feeding your boss the /blood of innocent maidens/.
Ten bucks says those gardeners are all blind, so they don’t have to look at Hastet-Om while they do this.
That I thought as well, Preem Avesh, until I remembered the scarred statues and saw the scars on the faces of these. Might they be his last living wives aside of Mottom?
Look at the skin tones, and notice that the clothing that they’re wearing entirely conceals their necks. Odds are, they’re the same kind of being as the chattering skeletons we saw in Throne, at a less advanced stage of decay; they slice the throats of the sacrifices, and then the shades of the slain are brought back to inhabit their own corpses.
See, I like that. That’s nearly as horrific/metal as the original sacrifice process — not only are the dead wives fed to Hastet-Om, their souls are used to reanimate their corpses so they can be more efficiently used to feed more wives to Hastet-Om.
So, let’s get this sequence of shittiness straight.
First they are stolen from their homes and families to be handmaidens, then they are hung upside-down and have their blood drained from their slit throat, and finally they have their shade bound to their corpse so that they can do this to the next lot.
Yeevus, y’unholiness. I know that being ruler of a metric fuckton of worlds alters y’r perspective, but… actually… that’s a pretty good explanation for why this wouldn’t bother her very much. If she considered herself a better alternative than anyone else, it becomes a matter of deciding whether this is a lesser evil. Or, Hells, maybe when you rule so many worlds you just go batshit bananas.
You forget, brother, that humans have a great capacity to believe what they choose. I am sure that those who are involved in the tending of the Tree of Woe are very sure that what they are doing is Glorious and in some way involves saving the universe by perpetuating Queen Om or balancing fate or some such. It also helps that the families they go home to (assuming they are allowed) are well provided for in return for their service… in status even if they are not allowed money. For me to believe that one of these gardeners has doubts, even when a doubting Maiden struggles or screams, I would have to see it expressed with my own eye.
If my informations are exact (and I hold them from Preem Tunka Dern, King of Teness), those are the Whores of the Unholy Order of Dim Dawn. They’re a secret order among the many (all-female) orders of Mottom.
I’ve been told that they were in charge of the maidens, but I surely didn’t know it was for such dark purpose.
Nadia Om may look pretty, she reeks evil and darkness.
Is it odd I knew the fruit of youth came from killing the maidens? Or is it weird I didn’t imagined them fed to a tree in such a manner? By his mistresses. Such troubles some go to look young. Was blood not to her taste, or did she feared her husband that much. I presume I know the answer. All rulers are alike, all cowards, and their might their terrible weakness. For true might is taken and shaped only by fools. All rulers clever as they become are aware of the beautiful lie of might, “the weak don’t take from the strong”.
All these years and she is still a slave to her husband.
It is incredible the power fear, hunger and despair can instill on a living thing, to push one to steal a 7th part of the multiverse and not feel remorse for it.
I wonder what the other usurpers’ excuses will be.
I think it’s not her husband, but her vanity that she is a slave to. It is grotesque how just a couple pages ago she was complaining that people did not care about her skills but only her looks – and now it is revealed that after stealing one seventh of all the power in the universe she used it to look pretty.
Mother Om is guilty of a great many things, gluttony least of all. She imposes her suffering tenfold on others in a futile attempt to appease it, she lets her power rule her then denies any responsibility, and she feasts on the fruits of horrors she once tried to prevent, but to accuse her of vanity is to miss the point, Pree tronn.
Well then.
Ee-yup
Quite.
Oh dear.
I see.
And i thought insect-like creatur-sentient being superior in hierarhy . Nope , just another young beautiful maiden. Poor pretty little thing .
Not that far off what I was expecting, though I was thinking more Audrey and less a hanging tree. I shouldn’t have, because we’ve already seen her make trees of kings, and that fruit…
It’s the fruit she uses to change ages, isn’t it?
This is definitely the same kind of tree she turned that other guy into, too
So she can produce that fruit by other means.
So, why does she keep this tree alive?
Because it has an “easily acquired” source of fertilizer? I mean, I doubt the virtuous king who bravely defied the tyrant queen wants young maiden flesh. There’s also the fact that Hastet Om was a Demiurge, which would mean his will and power was strong enough to bring himself back from the dead (in a manner of speaking) to demand sacrifices. The fruit that grows from his branches may be even more potent, then.
It would seem so. She relies on her husband for eternal youth, but must constantly feed him young virgin blood to ensure that youth. Such is gluttony. Such is GLORY.
I don’t see what’s glorious in that
Of all the reasons for violence, glory is the one which most puzzled me as a child, for I knew no way of pinning down of what glory really was, exactly. But it seemed to be the greatest cause of war, for no base vice was ever the rallying cry of an army that I’ve ever heard of.
Looking back through history, one nation might invade another in act of revenge, but going back further, when did such cycles of invading begin? The answer, it seemed, was always with glory. No one would give me a better answer, but suggested I delay taking action rather than publicly rallying for the end of glory as a justification for military invasion.
Based on what I currently gather: If glory is what is praised, loved, demanded and honored by the people, then to fight for the glory of something is the fight to make it popular. Therefore, if one seeks to bring about righteousness in a world of the reviled, one should take care to avoid using glorification of righteousness as a guarantee of righteousness, to prevent vileness from hiding beneath a veil of praise.
I can not tell you what use is glory in this story of gods and immortals. But. In our world. Glory is power. It is to be known. By kings and peasants alike. There is power in that. And then, when you die, so long as people remember your name, its like you still live on. Glory is the closest form of immortality we have.
And eye for an eye, A LIFE FOR A LIFE. And though it waits for her, death yet cannot find her, hidden as she is behind a veil of stolen youth.
I see true GLORY is blind to everything but its grotesque glow, saddening.
TREE OF WOE! TREE OF WOE!
OH NO! OH NO!
CAUGHT IN A TIDE OF MOURNING AND SORROW!
Okay, this is horrible. Atrocious.
And where the buttpeaches come from…
I love Alice-UN’s shocked face bcs it’s literally my face right now.
This novice begs your most gracious forgiveness for its infraction, but are men not the black daughters of YIS?
Humanity is Aesma’s mistake, Preem DaffGrind, forged from the aspect of YIS drawn from the Flame Eternal. At best, humanity is YIS’ misbegotten grandchildren.
I’m not certain I understand what provoked this humble correction, however your statement is technically accurate.
That is what the liturgy refers to them as, but they are only “daughters of Yis” in the same sense that the Aeons are “White sons of Un”. That is to say, technically yes, but not really.
Royalty is partly about being the embodiment of the two Aspects. Alice is her black aspect, and UN is obviously her white.
Praise the Rising King.
Your reading of Kill Six Billion Demons’ name is incomplete, 578.
Alisson
Alice-UN
Al-YISUN
So it is, so it shall be, and so will it be until.
it can sometimes help comprehension to write Alison’s name as AL-YIS-UN.
A three aspected king then, like the Christian god, even though he’s name is woefully under syllabled.
Perhaps Alison just realised what she had eaten only pages earlier.
That tree has a mighty big penor
you spelled penis wrong
Oh my….that’s much worse than a tentacle tree…
But really, aren’t all trees just incredibly robust yet sedate tentacle monsters that feast upon the sun and fill our lungs with the waste?
The dame from earlier was spared an honourable death nurturing the Tree.
. . .
Okay
It did not take much time for your horror to slip into acceptance.
Turn back quickly lest the next step be to embrace that which you once held horrible
jesus fucking christ
Who?
I believe Jesus and Christ are twin divinities from the Edge Kingdoms of Sondare. Don’t know what they have to do with any of these, nor why they have decided to engage in incest.
Or maybe we’ve confused them with someone else?
No, they were referring to Jesús Fucking Christ. A demon hunter from one of the Earths in Incubus’s domain.
Few people know, but “Fucking” is a valid middle name in some worlds. Just as one of Jesús’s demon hunting pals, Garcia Fucking Hotspur. That man’s journey through his local version of hell is legendary.
..oh.
Even in death, some greed still reaches for the heavens.
Ah, so this is the fate of the chosen maidens. This one supposes that of all the fates that could befall a beautiful young maiden this one is perhaps not the worst. This one also wonders, however, what would happen if this gruesome tree-man was not feed his tithe of blood.
Now I’m kind of happy that that one maiden girl failed to come to that place.
Perhaps it was meant to be this way, her fate may lie elsewhere. Perhaps, even, she is meant to be of some assistance to our beloved Alison. Think: the place she comes from puts great emphasis on being chosen, and it would bode ill for her if she were to suddenly return home, claiming that mysterious stranger had taken her place. She would be an outcast! Unable to return home for threat of persecution, and with little knowledge of the world beyond her borders, what else can she do but seek out that stranger?
He’d die, probably.
Somehow, I doubt the next chapter of Mottom’s tale will be so easily resolved.
In fact, I’d wager the mineral rights to my corpse on it, and I estimate it contains enough black glass to buy anything you want.
OOOOOOHHH SNAP!
Oh my.
Wow… How unfortunate.
WELP.
So now the true question. Why do they keep him alive? what power does he still posses?
Eternal youth, or something that resembles it. Look at the fruit, you’ve seen it previously.
He produces the peaches upon which Om gorges…
Maintaining the visage of divine glory necessitates one to partake in quite a few depraved grotesqueries apparently…
How the hell do these girls see?
Btw, it’s so funny that Nadia looks as shocked as Alice-UN! It made me laugh xD
“How the hell do these girls see?”
They don’t.
See? Not sure what you mean. Those are the stares of the dead, pal. They see nothing.
Gardening for the Mad.
Imagine having the job description of “blood-waterer of the queen’s husband.” Just… draining wife-blood, feeding it to the gaping mouth of the eternal tree-corpse and harvesting his immortality-granting crotch fruit. Imagine going home to your spouse and kids knowing you spend the vast majority of your time literally feeding your boss the /blood of innocent maidens/.
Ten bucks says those gardeners are all blind, so they don’t have to look at Hastet-Om while they do this.
I believe they are Devils. Their faces look like Masks, to me.
That I thought as well, Preem Avesh, until I remembered the scarred statues and saw the scars on the faces of these. Might they be his last living wives aside of Mottom?
Look at the skin tones, and notice that the clothing that they’re wearing entirely conceals their necks. Odds are, they’re the same kind of being as the chattering skeletons we saw in Throne, at a less advanced stage of decay; they slice the throats of the sacrifices, and then the shades of the slain are brought back to inhabit their own corpses.
See, I like that. That’s nearly as horrific/metal as the original sacrifice process — not only are the dead wives fed to Hastet-Om, their souls are used to reanimate their corpses so they can be more efficiently used to feed more wives to Hastet-Om.
It’s the Circle… the Circle of Death.
The Circle… Pure. Infertile.
As would say my ‘master’.
So, let’s get this sequence of shittiness straight.
First they are stolen from their homes and families to be handmaidens, then they are hung upside-down and have their blood drained from their slit throat, and finally they have their shade bound to their corpse so that they can do this to the next lot.
Yeevus, y’unholiness. I know that being ruler of a metric fuckton of worlds alters y’r perspective, but… actually… that’s a pretty good explanation for why this wouldn’t bother her very much. If she considered herself a better alternative than anyone else, it becomes a matter of deciding whether this is a lesser evil. Or, Hells, maybe when you rule so many worlds you just go batshit bananas.
The arborists are masked, I expect this is Devils’ work.
You forget, brother, that humans have a great capacity to believe what they choose. I am sure that those who are involved in the tending of the Tree of Woe are very sure that what they are doing is Glorious and in some way involves saving the universe by perpetuating Queen Om or balancing fate or some such. It also helps that the families they go home to (assuming they are allowed) are well provided for in return for their service… in status even if they are not allowed money. For me to believe that one of these gardeners has doubts, even when a doubting Maiden struggles or screams, I would have to see it expressed with my own eye.
Ya know…this is probably why YSUN committed suicide in the first place.
Immortality is a bum deal for everyone involved.
…assuming the gardeners are humans or servants and not devils. I suspect they are bound devils.
There are worse ways to make your living.
If my informations are exact (and I hold them from Preem Tunka Dern, King of Teness), those are the Whores of the Unholy Order of Dim Dawn. They’re a secret order among the many (all-female) orders of Mottom.
I’ve been told that they were in charge of the maidens, but I surely didn’t know it was for such dark purpose.
Nadia Om may look pretty, she reeks evil and darkness.
Is… is the trunk his penis?
It is a womb. Children are the fruit of the womb. And what are these fruit if not concentrated youth?
Reach Heaven through phallic imagery.
The fruit is certainly his seed.
I was thinking of it as a kind of reverse umbilical chord myself, but sure.
Maybe she should have lain him upside down so he would instead grow roots.
Is it odd I knew the fruit of youth came from killing the maidens? Or is it weird I didn’t imagined them fed to a tree in such a manner? By his mistresses. Such troubles some go to look young. Was blood not to her taste, or did she feared her husband that much. I presume I know the answer. All rulers are alike, all cowards, and their might their terrible weakness. For true might is taken and shaped only by fools. All rulers clever as they become are aware of the beautiful lie of might, “the weak don’t take from the strong”.
All these years and she is still a slave to her husband.
It is incredible the power fear, hunger and despair can instill on a living thing, to push one to steal a 7th part of the multiverse and not feel remorse for it.
I wonder what the other usurpers’ excuses will be.
I think it’s not her husband, but her vanity that she is a slave to. It is grotesque how just a couple pages ago she was complaining that people did not care about her skills but only her looks – and now it is revealed that after stealing one seventh of all the power in the universe she used it to look pretty.
Not just look pretty, but to stay young and stave off death, I presume.
Mother Om is guilty of a great many things, gluttony least of all. She imposes her suffering tenfold on others in a futile attempt to appease it, she lets her power rule her then denies any responsibility, and she feasts on the fruits of horrors she once tried to prevent, but to accuse her of vanity is to miss the point, Pree tronn.
Icky. Vile. Love? Liar. Deny. Dead? Safe. Farm. Feed? Life? HATE. Evil? Mott. Lord? High? Gems?!?! Liar. Liar. Girl? Hero. Goal. Evil? Here. Name? MOTT! Bend! Snap! RAGE. Goal? gOal? goAl? goaL? NEXT. LORD. Find. Hero? Kill.
Five.
Bill…