Re: Intense Struggle Season 2! (Round 4: Deathball Championship)
02-06-2012, 09:31 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by TimeothyHour.
CA-CLINK.
"Caught him! Man, what this this plant thing, anyway."
"Who knows, but it's sure to net us a big bonus with the the boss. Stuff him in the van, frank."
CA-CLINK.
~~~~~
ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…
In fiction, when you do something like, say, kill a little girl, you cross a sort of… line. A boundary. The internet calls it the Moral Event Horizon.
killkillkillthemtheyaremankillmantheruintheruindes troy
When one passes the Moral Event Horizon, you’re evil, indisputably. Irredeemable. You transition from a villain to a monster.
ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…
Generally, the character’s appearance, the mood of the piece, tends to suddenly reflect this- in this case particularly, Reudic’s vines grew dark and filled with thorns, and it constantly, violently lashed out at the cage containing it as the car bumped over speed bumps throughout the city.
destroydestroyburnburnkillfeastfeastfeastiamcoming iamthedarkinthenight
Although, this was less because of any moral event horizon that had been crossed, and because a fraction of that being of dark magic had found itself fragmented into Reudic’s feral soul.
wearedeathwearedeathwearetherulersofthedead
Although, one could simply argue that reality had simply found a justification for this change- there wasn’t any real reason that Reudic be possessed than some kind of divine justice, a karma that had deigned misery upon the plant for his evil act.
ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…
But really, that’s all human abstraction. Reudic was a plant. Plants don’t care about human morality, or fiction, or culture. Somewhere in Reudic’s mind, it all made sense- his rejection of humanity and its social constructions, his murder of Lillian, the so-called “evil” presence, in his soul. He was a moral paragon in a world of depraved monkeys.
killthemkillthemESCAPEfreedomliesinthebloodofthose meaninglesslfleshbags
And so, how dare they, those swine, those evil rabble! They dare contain the plant Reudic? They’ll pay for this, they’ll pay for it!
And they did. Through Reudics feral movements and rage, slowly, gradually, the car began to fill up with hallucinogens.
“So, I was talking to the girl right? And, of course, the unfortunate subject of jobs come up.”
“Mhm.”
“And, well, I was too drunk to come up with a good lie, so I just up and tell her, and she gets real uncomfortable lookin’, y’know?”
“Uh… uh huh.”
“And then, as soon as I look away to buy her a drink, she just goes in disappears! Poof! Can you believe the nerve?”
“Mm… Betty, why can’t we just go to sleep…”
“What? My name isn’t… Betty… your wife… Shit.”
And at that point, the driver fell asleep and hurtled the car forward at sixty miles an hour, practically ramping at each speed bump, until the car hurtled into a storefront window and impacted itself into the opposite wall.
Smoke drifted from the ruined car, slowly floating out from the entry point into the open air. Distantly, some sort of machine beeped angrily. Some people looked on, but only for a moment. Most ignored it. Someone else’s problem. And as they tried not to pay attention, tried to just get on with their lives without much ado, Reudic slipped into the crowds, heading towards the largest building in the vicinity- Deathball HQ.
Reudic was the king, the moral template. He would civilize these beasts of flesh, who think they understand right from wrong. He would become their king.
deathisyoursmanisyourslifeisyoursyouarethekingyoua rethegodYOUARETHEGOD
No. He would become their god.
CA-CLINK.
"Caught him! Man, what this this plant thing, anyway."
"Who knows, but it's sure to net us a big bonus with the the boss. Stuff him in the van, frank."
CA-CLINK.
~~~~~
ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…
In fiction, when you do something like, say, kill a little girl, you cross a sort of… line. A boundary. The internet calls it the Moral Event Horizon.
killkillkillthemtheyaremankillmantheruintheruindes troy
When one passes the Moral Event Horizon, you’re evil, indisputably. Irredeemable. You transition from a villain to a monster.
ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…
Generally, the character’s appearance, the mood of the piece, tends to suddenly reflect this- in this case particularly, Reudic’s vines grew dark and filled with thorns, and it constantly, violently lashed out at the cage containing it as the car bumped over speed bumps throughout the city.
destroydestroyburnburnkillfeastfeastfeastiamcoming iamthedarkinthenight
Although, this was less because of any moral event horizon that had been crossed, and because a fraction of that being of dark magic had found itself fragmented into Reudic’s feral soul.
wearedeathwearedeathwearetherulersofthedead
Although, one could simply argue that reality had simply found a justification for this change- there wasn’t any real reason that Reudic be possessed than some kind of divine justice, a karma that had deigned misery upon the plant for his evil act.
ba-bump… ba-bump… ba-bump…
But really, that’s all human abstraction. Reudic was a plant. Plants don’t care about human morality, or fiction, or culture. Somewhere in Reudic’s mind, it all made sense- his rejection of humanity and its social constructions, his murder of Lillian, the so-called “evil” presence, in his soul. He was a moral paragon in a world of depraved monkeys.
killthemkillthemESCAPEfreedomliesinthebloodofthose meaninglesslfleshbags
And so, how dare they, those swine, those evil rabble! They dare contain the plant Reudic? They’ll pay for this, they’ll pay for it!
And they did. Through Reudics feral movements and rage, slowly, gradually, the car began to fill up with hallucinogens.
“So, I was talking to the girl right? And, of course, the unfortunate subject of jobs come up.”
“Mhm.”
“And, well, I was too drunk to come up with a good lie, so I just up and tell her, and she gets real uncomfortable lookin’, y’know?”
“Uh… uh huh.”
“And then, as soon as I look away to buy her a drink, she just goes in disappears! Poof! Can you believe the nerve?”
“Mm… Betty, why can’t we just go to sleep…”
“What? My name isn’t… Betty… your wife… Shit.”
And at that point, the driver fell asleep and hurtled the car forward at sixty miles an hour, practically ramping at each speed bump, until the car hurtled into a storefront window and impacted itself into the opposite wall.
Smoke drifted from the ruined car, slowly floating out from the entry point into the open air. Distantly, some sort of machine beeped angrily. Some people looked on, but only for a moment. Most ignored it. Someone else’s problem. And as they tried not to pay attention, tried to just get on with their lives without much ado, Reudic slipped into the crowds, heading towards the largest building in the vicinity- Deathball HQ.
Reudic was the king, the moral template. He would civilize these beasts of flesh, who think they understand right from wrong. He would become their king.
deathisyoursmanisyourslifeisyoursyouarethekingyoua rethegodYOUARETHEGOD
No. He would become their god.