shitposting rave 4: (almost) anything goes

*There is a new, rather gawky kitten in the rave.*

*She LOUDLY MEWS for pets.*

 

"Ah, a good evening to you, kitten."

She sits where she expects a chair to be, and there is one, just how she remembers it. Carved oak, almost a throne. It dwarfs her, and she loves it. Room for a lot of cushions.

Patting her lap, she looks at the kitten and calls. "Come here, kitty!"

 

*The kitten makes a flying leap for the chair and...slams into her legs instead.*

*Aren't cats supposed to land on their feet.*

 

"Poor little one -- it seems you have no sense of balance at all." She reaches down to stroke the kitten.

 

-has fallen down ANOTHER STAIR CASE. this time into the rave. she lays in a heap on the floor. notably wearing greshan's coat. he is silent for once in his miserably unlife though-

 

*Perhaps she senses the insult, or merely feels animose, but she bites that hand.*

 

*Gundam watches Kinzi pet the kitty approvingly. He senses the kitty's mild embarrassment at falling less than gracefully.*

The idea that cats always land on their feets is a legend, and a deleterious one at that, which has been used far too many times to put cats and kittens into situations where it would be impossible to land gracefully. You have nothing to be ashamed of, little one. Nature will bless you with the gifts of unbelievable balance and poise in time, so long as you keep working to develop these skills.

*he says this in a voice slightly less than befitting of a prince of darkness, and slightly more befitting of someone talking to a kitty*

 

*Kitchen does not appear to acknowledge this, but bites @Kinzi Knorth harder.*

 

"I'll fix what I can fix when I'm sure I know how to fix it," Ford says with a sigh. "I want to help you. But your situation is sufficiently fucked up that I have grudgingly accepted the necessity to deal with my more pressing, immediate problems first and also the necessity to devote more than adequate time to making a proper study of the problems. Because otherwise I'll just fuck things up even worse. And you're right. You don't need that. You don't need more severed heads in your life, and I don't want to be one of those heads."

Ford laughs. "The only reason I mentioned it is because you told everyone about my 'unshakeable faith'. I hate you the very best, but you made me sound like a moron."

 

-"are you sure about that," Kimo Neko thinks to themselves.-

 

Religion's moronic so I'm not sure what you're expecting of me.

Happy you're not dumb enough to just rush into matters though. Still maintain I'm fucked, but at least you aren't raising the dead Girl count any higher than it needs to be. Irritated that you still think it can work but eh.

Point is there's only one pretty row of heads right now and you're keeping it that way.

 

Wh-what is this feat of nature? Such long legs, disproportionate to the point where movement should be hampered, but yet you bound with such ease-
What be you, demon? Speak your name and your purpose!

*he says this with awe-struck adoration*

 

That feel when you thought it was a human version of the younger slightly less shit Shitfins.

That scarf. That hair.

Such terror.

 

Ah, and now I see where the title comes from. An admirable goal, if not one I could dedicate my life to.

Read properly, yes, most poems will pick up a rhythm. As Archive said, though, Neocybex isn't quite so melodious as <this...> hm, <tongue? Saying?> Is there a word for language?

Is making fun of peoples' frames common in your land, or is it just your personal hobby? Leave the beast alone. He's hardly a demon.

 

You misunderstand me. For a prince of darkness like myself, disposed ruler of one of the furthest and most cursed rungs of hell, "demon" is hardly an insult, but a compliment of the highest degree. This beast commands incredible power and potential and I hold naught but the utmost respect for it.

 

Aliens. [He says this like the most disgusting thing in the universe. Don't insult people to cover your mistake, Glow, that's rude.]

 

Spoiler: why does mobile not tell me how big pictures are

:P

 

"Religion, like most of the methods sapient beings have come up with for facing the size and impersonality of the multiverse as a whole, the apparent inevitability of the obliteration of the self, and the sheer enormity of the things that can happen to us simply by chance and through no controllable fault of our own, is moronic--because these truths reduce even the smartest of us to scared, howling kits in the cold."

Ford shrugs. "You can choose to accept the lack of evidence that there's anything out there at all that cares. That can be liberating for some people; it's certainly better than believing that some being created us with inherent flaws it can't accept are its own doing, and chooses instead to torture us for being unable to overcome them, and the corollary belief that some of our greatest pleasures in life and instinctive behaviours are evil. It also keeps you aligned with reason, in that there's no actual objective evidence that anything out there cares what happens to individual, rapidly flickering, fragile sparks of sapience."

Ford takes a deep breath. "You can also choose to believe there's something out there that does care, but at that point you either have to believe that it's arrogant enough to decide that your pain is justifiable because it's got some special plan it has not seen fit to let you in on, which would make it a very special kind of bastard--or decide that it's just as confused as you are and probably also is so overwhelmed by the sheer number of individuals and choices and fixed points in time that it can't really help you much, and would appreciate your help in sorting shit out. That was my choice. It doesn't have to be yours. The Great Work is fixing the shit you can fix when you're sure you know how to fix it. And accepting that your fix may break something else, and that your life is going to be spent doing what my son calls 'debugging' it. It's a pain in the ass, but it's comforting, at least for me, to believe that G-d knows Their creation isn't perfect, but has accepted that it would be cruel to create sapience and wipe it away and start over, so we've got to debug it together as best we can."

He sighs. "Or you can just decide that the whole thing is fucked and there's no point in anything and it's all just pain we'd be better off getting out of. But that way lies years of training yourself not to care about anything while still somehow maintaining some sort of compassion, because attachment hurts--or a space station in a pocket dimension full of murder cattes who fuck up the children they only have because they believe it's their duty to keep going on until they've killed everyone else."

 

What have I done.

WHAT HAVE I DONE.

 

Note to self: Don't just get ball gown. Get him in it. Get them talking. Feel the textwalls.