Post by Cassus on Jun 25, 2012 1:02:50 GMT -5
TROLOL WORK IN PROGRESS. There are so many legends/etc that play into this character it's not even funny. u___u. I'll update this weekly or something with parts of the story.
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ACT I. At first there was nothing.
And there was nothing but the essence of a pre-biblical beast. As bland and unexciting as predawn. Pale and fish - eyed and nothing but a mindless shadow of some god. Happy in consciousness. Or maybe it's lack thereof. But then there was light.
And there was competition. The first stirring of wicked began. Because there had to be opposing forces. There was always light to darkness, and fire to water. There was only really the matter of which came first. A cosmic routine to things. A immortal way. A light, seen as holy and virtuous, in return cast a mighty shadow of unhallowed vice over the nothing that had once been everything. And in the great darkness's gut their brewed jealousy. And it branched out and touched everyone who came.
There was a woman. It was the early years, far before the advancement of technology and deep into the years of devils and monsters. She'd fallen during raid, and although her tribe victorious -- she'd been struck with a great ailment. There was belief, spread out among all people, that when one shut their eyes they transported to a astral plane. The void. And the darkness ate her hungrily, welcomed her with open arms. Touched her vigorously and shaped her into a creature just as dark. She was the darkness first creation, and subsequently the darkness's first failure. The light ripped her way in a burst. Never to be seen again. And the darkness rumbled and willed it's conscious into a great wrath.
It watched as each of it's patrons were taken and ripped away. It pulsed and spread with influence and a need of power. To smother this light. But just as it was infinite, so was it's opposite. And every galaxy the darkness extended. So the light matched it's step.
A time old rivarly, in the end.
Until of course, the dark grew past consciousness and past vice, and into intelligence.
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ACT I. At first there was nothing.
And there was nothing but the essence of a pre-biblical beast. As bland and unexciting as predawn. Pale and fish - eyed and nothing but a mindless shadow of some god. Happy in consciousness. Or maybe it's lack thereof. But then there was light.
And there was competition. The first stirring of wicked began. Because there had to be opposing forces. There was always light to darkness, and fire to water. There was only really the matter of which came first. A cosmic routine to things. A immortal way. A light, seen as holy and virtuous, in return cast a mighty shadow of unhallowed vice over the nothing that had once been everything. And in the great darkness's gut their brewed jealousy. And it branched out and touched everyone who came.
There was a woman. It was the early years, far before the advancement of technology and deep into the years of devils and monsters. She'd fallen during raid, and although her tribe victorious -- she'd been struck with a great ailment. There was belief, spread out among all people, that when one shut their eyes they transported to a astral plane. The void. And the darkness ate her hungrily, welcomed her with open arms. Touched her vigorously and shaped her into a creature just as dark. She was the darkness first creation, and subsequently the darkness's first failure. The light ripped her way in a burst. Never to be seen again. And the darkness rumbled and willed it's conscious into a great wrath.
It watched as each of it's patrons were taken and ripped away. It pulsed and spread with influence and a need of power. To smother this light. But just as it was infinite, so was it's opposite. And every galaxy the darkness extended. So the light matched it's step.
A time old rivarly, in the end.
Until of course, the dark grew past consciousness and past vice, and into intelligence.