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+--- Thread: Favorite Quotes (/thread-514.html)
RE: Favorite Quotes - Gentian - 07-22-2016
Like a fish with beautiful green scales, Thomas lay beached on the stone floor, mouth gaping, wordless, dying, surely. His strings were cut. Below the neck, he could not move a muscle or feel his body, which was a mercy, given the scorched wreckage left by Shoat's bullet. And yet he was in agony.
With every labored breath he could smell the burnt meat on his bones. Open his eyes, and his assassin hung before him. Close them, and he could hear his nations stubbornly waiting for his great transition. His greatest torment was that the fire had seared his larynx and he could not command his people to disperse.
He opened his eyes and there was Shoat on the cross, teeth bared. They had done an exquisite job of it, driving the nails through the holes in his wrists, arranging small ledges for his buttocks and feet so that he would not hang by his arms and asphyxiate. The crucifix had been positioned at Thomas's feet so that he could enjoy the human's agony.
Shoat was going to last for weeks up there. A hank of meat dangled at his shoulder so that he could feed himself. His elbows had been dislocated and his genitals mutilated; otherwise he was relatively intact. Decorations had been cut into his flesh. His ears and nostrils had been jingle-bobbed. Lest anyone think the prisoner had no owner, the symbol for Older-than-Old had been branded onto his face.
Thomas turned his head away from the grim creation. They could not know that Shoat's presence gave him no pleasure. Each view only enraged him more. It was this man who had been planting the contagion along the Helios expedition's trail, yet Thomas could not interrogate him to learn the insidious details. He could not abort the genocide. He could not warn his children and send them fleeing into the deeper unknown. Finally, most enraging, he could not let go of this ravaged shell and cross into a new body. He could not die and be reborn.
It was not for lack of new receptacles. For days now, Thomas had been surrounded by rings of females in every stage of pregnancy or new motherhood, and the smell of their scented bodies and breast milk was in the air. For a minute he saw not living women, but Stone Age Venuses. In the hadal tradition, they were overfed and gloriously pampered during their maternity. Like women of any great tribe, they wore wealth upon their naked bodies: plastic poker chips or coins from a dozen nations had been stitched together for necklaces, colored string and feathers and seashells had been woven into their hair. Some were covered in dried mud and looked like the earth itself coming to life.
Their waiting was a form of deathwatch, but also of nativity. They were offering the contents of their wombs for his use. Those with newborns periodically held them aloft, hoping to catch his attention. Each mother's greatest desire was that the messiah would enter her own child, even though it would mean his obliterating the soul already in formation.
But Thomas was holding himself back. He saw no alternative. Shoat's presence was a minute-by-minute reminder that the virus was out there, set to annihilate his people. To try and inhabit a developed mind meant risking his own memory. And what was the use of reincarnating into the body of an infant, if he was helpless to warn about the impending plague? No, he was better residing in this body. As a precaution, he – and January and Branch – had been vaccinated by a military doctor at that Antarctic base many months ago, when the presence of prion capsules was first being revealed. Even racked and paralyzed, this shot, burned shell was at least inoculated against the contagion.
And so their king lay in a body that was a tomb, caught between choices. Death was sorrow. But as the Buddha had once said, birth was sorrow, too. Priests and shamans from throughout the hadal world went on drumming and murmuring. The children went on crying. Shoat went on writhing and mewling. Off to one side, the daughter of Isaac continued her fascination with the computer, tapping at keys endlessly, a monkey with a typewriter.
Thomas closed his eyes against the nightmare he had become
RE: Favorite Quotes - Pacifist - 07-23-2016
"Your face is having a good time!"
"Speak now or forever hold your penis. I mean peace."
RE: Favorite Quotes - Kaltes-Herzeleid - 07-23-2016
"Ey b0ss!"
-Pink Guy
RE: Favorite Quotes - Gray - 07-29-2016
"light a man a fire, he'll be warm for a night. Light a man on fire, he'll be warm for rest of his life" dunno
RE: Favorite Quotes - Fiction - 07-31-2016
"So long as there are people that think that taking offense and grievances are equivalent to some kind of injury, I will continue to be as offensive as possible" -Milo Yiannopoulos
RE: Favorite Quotes - EquestrianPenguin - 08-01-2016
"Call my Waifu a whore, let the bodies hit the floor!"
RE: Favorite Quotes - Fiction - 08-03-2016
"Wow! Look! Nothing!" -Yellow guy, Don't Hug me I'm Scared 4.
RE: Favorite Quotes - Fiction - 08-06-2016
"I am a stupid one." -Low budget yellow guy, DHMIS 4.
"I live under the ground. You are just tourists." Killer Croc, Suicide Squad
RE: Favorite Quotes - Kaltes-Herzeleid - 08-07-2016
"Sir, come back here and give me a urine sample!"
-jacksepticeye
RE: Favorite Quotes - Pacifist - 08-09-2016
"What does god need with a starship?" -James T. Kirk