@poog the pig Other than being played by Kho, who is inherently awesome, what makes Vowzra wiser? While his musings are longer, there's a few fallacies in them.
Such I know for a fact that Kho was just cracking fortune cookies open for his characters dialoguem
The Timeless One, The Celestial Above, Vicegerent of Fate, Guardian of the Timeline, Master of Creation, Lord of Time Level 3 God of Creation (Time) 1 Might 1 Freepoint
&
Harbinger of the Natural Order, Guardian of Harmony, God of Kings and King of Gods, I AM THAT I AM Level 2 God of Order 5 Might 1 Freepoint
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Logos travels long until he reaches what the Lord of Order percieves to be The End Vowzra is waiting there, and Sees that this place does not in fact exist - it is a dream within a dream They have a very deep and meaningful conversation about Fate and Order et al. It boils down to whether Vowzra would stand in the way of Logos or not Vowzra says that he is merely a guide and will act when necessary, whatever the action may be.
Special thanks to Kho for this Collab!
His wings carried him off into the distance, crossing vast chasms of mottled space, glimpses of color and sound rotting through the decrepit void like holes in cheese. Towering mountains rose off of barren worlds, ice glittering falsely under false suns. He spared it all an impartial but curious eye, his winds an impossible expanse as the road the winds of the universe. The scenery did not change much, though whatever vague sense of coherency the new universe abided by (if it actually abided by anything at all) seemed to forget itself as he moved onward. Nothing about the world outside of the world made sense, but it was making even less sense than usual. At first the stars were interspersed among the darkness, crowded among pools, sparkling in cascades of nebulas. But eventually even they too fell away to emptiness, until the only sounds came from his wings behind him, their beat echoing forlornly in the Nothing.
Still, this did not deter Logos, even as he wandered through reality itself, and sound, color, matter and energy all coalesced together. Whatever space he had found himself in did not have any logic or reason to spare, and at some point Logos found himself no longer caring to try and look for it.
Logos did, however, pause chance a glance backwards, wondering what he would see. A Road? Galbar? The Empty Expanse with Fate floating in the far distance?
He saw nothing.
Not discouraged, Logos turned back forward and continued to fly.
He could hear his own heartbeat now, as worlds crashed around him and reality collapsed upon itself in a silent, catastrophic implosion. He could see a bit of everything, in it all. Geometric planes of light and matter crossing as existential, static lines and right angles; energy, paused in this moment.
He was nearing the End.
'The End of What?' he found himself questioning. This caught him by surprise; he was never one to question anything.
The end of meaning. Or rather, the end of everything worth meaning.
Shards of reality continued to pass him by, locked in some sort of endless state of entropy. The universe was ending, it seemed. It was always in a state of dying, so that was nothing new. It crashed soundlessly around him, and he thought he might have seen something familiar in the reflections scattered about, but he found he could not remember anything anymore.
But there were things wandering around here that could remind his memory of things worth remembering. Logos reached out a hand, ripping a hole into reality and peering into the next one. There was a little boy surrounded by floating books. He looked away and looked at all the lines floating about, some wide enough to see things through, others barely enough to see at all. He found himself curious enough to peer through quite a few. Sometimes it was only his reflection he saw; sometimes he saw a little girl with blonde, the eyes of Fate, and a crimson poppy, or a man with cold black eyes.
And then finally, he came to the end.
Logos could feel it, somehow, even though it was not dissimilar to the fading edges of reality he had already been traversing. But there was something cold, out here. Something that reminded him that there were things beyond his realm of comprehension, terrible things; things that had been banished from a reality long ago.
And there was something else there, too, sitting, staring off into the endless nothingness.
Logos found he did not want to stare into the end, but his eyes were drawn to it anyway. It felt like too much for his meager existence to handle, so he finally pulled his eyes away, to the something else; a figure of unknowableness, staring unblinking, directly into the end. He wasn't sure how he could do that—stare so unwaveringly into something beyond comprehension.
"I thought I would find you here," Logos stated, as he sat himself beside Vowzra on this shard of flat dimension.
'And I Saw that you would come, and heard your ever-beating, though ultimately useless, heart-drum. But can it be said that you found me if I willed that we meet? If Fate willed and the Timeline dictated that each of us find here a seat...' the ancient lips of the archaic wooden head moved, but the voice did not emerge from the lips. It echoed all around the wooden body, an infinite number of voices. Each was heard clearly though they spoke over one another, though this one began as that one ended, and this one paused in the middle just as that one ended its pause.
The voids which were his Eyes stared blankly into what the Eternal One had thought to be the end. It was not the end. It was not the beginning. It was simply where they had been Fated to meet. Simply speaking, it was a place that did not exist, could not exist, and would not exist. But it was good that the Eternal One could see and hear the roar of this surf-tormented shore; though all that he could see or seem was but a dream within a dream. He could rip all the holes he wished and stare through them as he pleased, but all that he held within his hands were but as scattered grains of sand which would surely, slowly creep away and be consumed by the endless, unceasing, pitiless waves. The flow would carry them, the unrelenting flow, and the blazing flame would ultimately consume them.
'There are words you are Fated to speak, and there are words that Time dictates I speak. But my words cannot be spoken until yours are uttered; so let it be said, what must be said.'
Logos tilted his head, until the End was partially in his vision. Vague alarm and apprehension caught him in an iron grip, and he found his eyes would not wander any farther. The End lingered in the corners of his vision, and he did not want to look at it. "They made a mistake."
He didn't know what was on the other side, if there was an other side at all, but it seemed so impenetrable that all light and matter and energy just ended at the cut off.
Vowzra stared ahead blankly. He could sense the anxiety of the Eternal One, but there was nothing to fear here. But then again, The Eternal One did not know that.
'No, they did not make a mistake. It is as it must be. There is no mistake - the mistake lies in your heart. That is where the battle must take place, and that is where you must attain victory. Only then will you come to the realisation, only then will you awaken, and only then will you be able to look into this,' a wooden arm moved and a hand gestured towards what lay before them, 'and See.'
Logos made a noise of comprehension, his face emotionless. "Fate is a self-perpetuating lie. A variable with no sum and no possibility," the Lord of Order answered. "For if everything is pre-ordained, then we serve no purpose. If we are not responsible, then the blame for all that is and will be rests on only one."
Vowzra's arm had returned to its position beside him as the Eternal One spoke, and his response came naturally when he knew that the other was done.
'You speak as you do because you do not understand Fate. You cannot See the myriad Timelines and possibilities. You cannot see the infinite choices that have been accounted for, the innumberable paths that may be treaded, and the untold horrors which await down the untold paths. Fate has forged the Timelines, and it is our choices that will dictate which one we walk. For the moment, we have done well. But difficulties will lie ahead of us and ultimately we are responsible for ensuring that we continue down the Greatest Timeline and maintain the Truest Fate - only then can we achieve the Ultimate Order and reach the Dignified Fate. It is we who are ultimately responsible, and we who are ultimately to blame,' there was a long pause, and silence reigned - though the Lord of Time could still hear the crashing waves, and he was certain that the Eternal One would be able to hear it too if only he opened his Eyes.
'The true question is this, however: will you make it your purpose to achieve the Ultimate Order, or will you be contented with causing yourself affliction over the insignificant ebbing and flowing of of the Fated dualities?'
"I know the paths and the variables," Logos remarked. "They are neither infinite nor untold; every equation will have its sum. You may see them, but I made them possible."
Was that the truth then; even in the abstract? In the end, everything was made up of the same laws. Atoms; matter; energy—forms could be as complex and frightening as a blue giant star, or as complex and frightening as a quantum particle, but they could not be extinguished. It was all just reused and reused; except for the moment when nothing became something.
Logos blinked, wings expanding slightly as he forced his gaze to look directly into The End.
The only other exception he could think of was when something became nothing.
Well, he was still there, so he had not yet been turned into nothingness. The two sat in companionable silence, in a place where time and space could not reach them. But Logos did not worry about that for now, absently spreading his wings as he turned his eyes out into the dramatic drop of reality itself. It was a humbling sight to see, and one he would never quite be able to put into words.
"If there was one with whom I would have shared a crown, it would have been with you," the god king admitted. For who else could hear at the very end of Time and Reality itself?
Time was natural, after all—and more importantly, this was not the End. Things did not end when they were destroyed; they returned to the particles of which they were made, to be molded again. Dust and ice and metal came together through the terrifying force of gravity, condensed until they began to burn as one bright, explosive being. And the energy and warmth from that star would breathe life into the barren orbital objects around it. And then eventually, one day, the star would explode, taking all the planets and the life with it; together they would all return to dust and ice and metal, only to be swept back up into stars and life.
"I Am That I Am," Logos whispered softly, and the words shook the very foundation of reality.
But they never really ended. It was a transitive existence that continued into eternity.
"I am Order Incarnate. I have been Order, I am Order, I will be Order. This was a universe born of madness and chaos. It will be corrected. If you believe what you say, then you know what is coming. Will you stop me?"
For the first time in their dialogue, a smile broke out across the wooden face of the Lord of Time.
'So you were. So you are. So must you be,' Vowzra's Voice took form and trailed off into the nothingness that now gaped before them. The waves had disappeared and all sound was gone. His Voice rose up in that nothingness as a dark cloud and both gods witnessed before them the dark visage of an all too familiar being. The darkness leaned in and Vowzra's Voice sounded. 'Thus was it Fated, So Shall it Be.'
With that, the shadowy Voice, which had taken on the shape of the Supreme Being (or had it really?) faded away and was gone, and both gods found themselves hanging in real space. The stars shone all about them and the Eyes of Vowzra saw with piercing clarity the nebulae and galaxies all around...and he Saw The Gap which the Eternal One so despised, and he looked within it and was pleased to see that his additions to the Codex had taken effect.
'You must understand, Eternal One, and there are many Timelines where you do, and there are many where you do not, but you must understand that not all is as you percieve, and not all is as you decree. There are things, even now, which are beyond you. What makes you thing that there is not...so much more...' the god of Time lifted his gaze from The Gap and looked directly at the Eternal One for the first time.
'Even now you believe that I have any desire for your crown. You have yet to See the Ultimate Order, only then will you understand the insignificance of such titles. They are nothing but dreams which we conjure up, and we dream within these dreams and lull ourselves into believing that we have grasped reality. You are asleep; the Sleeper must awaken,' his piercing eyes bored into the Eternal One, 'and so long as the Sleeper remains asleep, it is for those who are awake to ensure that he does not stray. It is not my duty to stop you, you have your Fated duties and you must do as you must. But know that mine shall be the swift and guiding hand when the Sleeper strays, and it shall be the swift and guiding hand when the Sleeper stays.'
With a beat of his wings, he rode the rush of All, drifting alongside Vowzra in their creation as Nothing gave way to Reality once more, expanding and encroaching into the Nonexistence.
His eyes were deep and black, endless and chilling. They felt as if they went on forever, and yet remained as an impenetrable darkness. "Perhaps you are but the Dream, and I the Dreamer, and when I wake up, you shall be gone," Logos dared, matching with his own eyes: white and infinite, absolute and etheral. They promised Forever and yet remained a testmanet to Eternity.
“I am the only absolute in all of creation,” Logos said as he descended lightly to the nebula cloud that churned not far away. “You are but a fragment of my greatest dream, and it is a dream that has become a nightmare.” His eyes burned, two rings of light boring into the wooden face through the darkness. “I cannot lose, Time.”
Vowzra cocked his head and smiled widely, the bark around his Eyes creasing. Perhaps if his Eyes could display emotion, there might have been a tinge of love in them - the love of an elder brother for a stubborn younger one, or the love of a father who watched his child disobey and stray. But he spoke no more, for he knew that no more was Fated to (or could) be said. For even as the Eternal One spoke, he did not question or wonder at what had just happened. Where had 'The End' gone? Where was it? Could he reach it again if he so willed? Vowzra knew that he would not be able to, for it was gone and had never been; a dream within a dream.
He did not mind so much what the Eternal One said, he could not blame him. It did, however, give Vowzra an even greater vision into his brother: he would nearer accept that all around him were dreams or nightmares and his the one truth and knowledge. It was important to have such confidnce in oneself where one aimed to be King.
'Know this Eternal One: you shall not lose. Not one of us shall lose,' and with that, the Lord of Time slipped away into the very Fabric of Creation where none could find him or know of him. There he closed his voids for eyes, but the Eyes of Time were forever open.
Billions. Billions. 13.5 Billion years to be exact Our RL universe is currently 13.8 billion years old, humans have been around for maybe a few hundred thousand years.
What if we're not done building what we want too yet?
@The Irish Tree If you want a normal mortal, then we can arrange that - though I can't guarantee that he won't die, be killed or in some other way be completely mutilated, deformed, crippled, transformed etc. for he is at the mercy of some very Lovecraftian and batshit insane beings. Good luck.
In other news, your's won't be the only mortal! I've already been planning one of my own - so maybe they can weep at their miserable Fates together :D <-- Troll Grin
Were the gods in previous incarnations of this wRP just as lovecraftian?
Vec
kapuchu