BnemonicDevice
please curb my ham ham pang pangs
???
TIPHERETH
"From ashes you came, to ashes you return."
Mathew 4:1-11
. . .
When one is unwillingly born into this agonizing world, forced into existence and consciousness, can one ever remember what nothingness felt like before? If Tiphereth was about to be reunited with some of her siblings somewhere in the Great Sky Above... why was she still able to think and process things?
"...I should be dead. Shouldn't I?" she blurted aloud, a tame response for someone recently deceased. It was as if the act was such a foregone conclusion.
She looked around her surroundings. White, all white. The shade of purity, of untarnished and unchallenged ideals-- their nascent state lacking the color of substance. She turned her head counterclockwise and then--
"--Kyaaaa!" from on high, it was as if the sky had fallen upon her to mark the end of her days, a figure of black crashed onto the same plane that Tiphereth's feet rested.
"...And you should be dead too," she instantly recognized her, in combat circles and God Program Fan Clubs, that jet black suit paired with space grey hair, and eyes a pure piercing blue, one could consider them--
*SMACK!* Leather glove made full contact with Tiph's now-mushy face, her sibling Sephiroth puffing their cheeks indignantly.
"That's so mean, Tiphhhh! You really make your older sister sad when you say mean things like thaaaaat."
"I don't think that's possible. I'm pretty sure you're just my cognition of the real Keter, ergo-"
From Keter's black gloves, a white lightning surrounded them- but unlike Tiphereth's unstable, wild use of their shared God Program, this seemed more controlled, focused even. In her sister's hands materialized a great spear, the same length as her own failed creation, curved to a sharp point-- worthy of the name as the Lance of Longinus. Truly, Tiphereth did believe that the legend hailed by so many standing before her was really just an angry child.
"...That's quite enough, both of you."
Another figure in black intervened. Long hair draped over their left shoulder with yellow highlights facing towards them, they strutted their way to diffuse this mess, clicking their tongue at all the ruckus they(Keter) caused.
"...And you too, Binah. Why is it that you still persist in my head? Curse my lucid dreams, I would have preferred oblivion over an eternity with family," the last word was uttered as if it were some profuse vulgarity.
The gloved child released some of their grip on their spear, her face hardening as she deadpanned.
"That is strange you know-- I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to torment her for trying to use that too early."
"Perhaps a mutual tormenting is in order?" Binah tilted her head.
"No way, no way, no way~! I got first dibs." Keter frowned, shaking her head. Tiphereth could literally see the eye twitching movements from the calmer and more reserved Sephiroth. Binah clenched her fists as yellow electricity sparked in her hands, clasping them together and expanding them out as if it were a weaved tapestry.
She buried her face in her hands as she watched the shitshow carry on. Truly, quality family time was a fitting fate for someone who has spent all their time trying to push others away.
"...God. Fucking. Damn. it." she scowled.
Mathew 4:1-11
. . .
When one is unwillingly born into this agonizing world, forced into existence and consciousness, can one ever remember what nothingness felt like before? If Tiphereth was about to be reunited with some of her siblings somewhere in the Great Sky Above... why was she still able to think and process things?
"...I should be dead. Shouldn't I?" she blurted aloud, a tame response for someone recently deceased. It was as if the act was such a foregone conclusion.
She looked around her surroundings. White, all white. The shade of purity, of untarnished and unchallenged ideals-- their nascent state lacking the color of substance. She turned her head counterclockwise and then--
"--Kyaaaa!" from on high, it was as if the sky had fallen upon her to mark the end of her days, a figure of black crashed onto the same plane that Tiphereth's feet rested.
"...And you should be dead too," she instantly recognized her, in combat circles and God Program Fan Clubs, that jet black suit paired with space grey hair, and eyes a pure piercing blue, one could consider them--
*SMACK!* Leather glove made full contact with Tiph's now-mushy face, her sibling Sephiroth puffing their cheeks indignantly.
"That's so mean, Tiphhhh! You really make your older sister sad when you say mean things like thaaaaat."
"I don't think that's possible. I'm pretty sure you're just my cognition of the real Keter, ergo-"
From Keter's black gloves, a white lightning surrounded them- but unlike Tiphereth's unstable, wild use of their shared God Program, this seemed more controlled, focused even. In her sister's hands materialized a great spear, the same length as her own failed creation, curved to a sharp point-- worthy of the name as the Lance of Longinus. Truly, Tiphereth did believe that the legend hailed by so many standing before her was really just an angry child.
"...That's quite enough, both of you."
Another figure in black intervened. Long hair draped over their left shoulder with yellow highlights facing towards them, they strutted their way to diffuse this mess, clicking their tongue at all the ruckus they
"...And you too, Binah. Why is it that you still persist in my head? Curse my lucid dreams, I would have preferred oblivion over an eternity with family," the last word was uttered as if it were some profuse vulgarity.
The gloved child released some of their grip on their spear, her face hardening as she deadpanned.
"That is strange you know-- I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's supposed to torment her for trying to use that too early."
"Perhaps a mutual tormenting is in order?" Binah tilted her head.
"No way, no way, no way~! I got first dibs." Keter frowned, shaking her head. Tiphereth could literally see the eye twitching movements from the calmer and more reserved Sephiroth. Binah clenched her fists as yellow electricity sparked in her hands, clasping them together and expanding them out as if it were a weaved tapestry.
She buried her face in her hands as she watched the shitshow carry on. Truly, quality family time was a fitting fate for someone who has spent all their time trying to push others away.
"...God. Fucking. Damn. it." she scowled.
MENTIONS
Is dead, for now.
Code written by: Pyosimros
Code written by: Pyosimros