[centre][h2]Living Like a God[/h2][/centre] [hr] “More grapes, Your Excellency?” “Please, Stacy, as many as you can peel.” “More wine, Your Fantasticness?” “Only if you’re getting wasted with me, babe.” Twilight’s gold, silver and platinum-ringed hand left a red print on the right cheek of his servant’s ass, eliciting a hidden squeal from her. She bit her lip and poured herself a cup as well, the avatar smirking broadly. She wore the standard uniform of women in his court, and truth be told, there was not much to wear. They were in his personal chambers, a marble terrace overlooking the great Southern Sea, furnished to the brim with statues, tablets and monuments detailing his power, beauty and grace. It was midday, and as with every day, his room was rank with the stinks and scents of every luxury imaginable - a great bite of a debaucher’s paradise. As the woman joined him and the seven other women in various states of sobriety on the enormous silk bed, she licked her lips. “Anything for the beautiful…” “Yes…” “... The almighty…” “Yeees…” “... The all-knowing…” “Yeeeees!” “... [i]Za’watem[/i]--” She stopped as she saw Twilight’s face turn to cold stone. She froze, catching the eyes of the other women, all of whom either rolled their eyes or snickered quietly at her. The avatar took a deep breath and rubbed his nose. He ran his tongue over his teeth in thought and gave a sniff, staring into the air. The woman started quivering, her quest for finding where she had taken a wrong step slowly dragging her into a state of panic. “Y-Your Awesomeness, d-d-did I say something wrong?” The avatar’s face twisted with frustration and emotion. Slowly, he lifted up one finger and hovered it before her face. “You’re new here, right? She’s, she’s new here, right?” He turned to the other women, all of whom nodded in many different states of wakefulness. The woman in question whispered prayers to herself. The avatar took a deep breath. “Who am I, Tiffany?” The woman looked around for this supposed character. The avatar repeated himself, still talking out into the air. “Answer my question. Who am I?” The woman pointed at herself as though doing so would set off a bomb. “M-me, Your--” “Yes, you! You’re Tiffany, right?” “M-my name is Arene--” Before she could react, he grabbed her chin in his hand - the grip was soft, but all who looked on knew that Twilight’s breath alone could tip a tree. Her cocoa skin paled - her hyperventilation only competed with birdsong outside for the champion spot of loudest noise in the room. “Listen, listen, listen…” said the avatar softly. “Whoever taught you how to treat me, girl - they missed some details, alright?” The other women looked knowingly at Arene, whose eyes met their with accusations of betrayal. “Your name is Tiffany - and Tiffany, you do -not- call me what you just called me, you got that?” “Y-y-y-you mean Z-Z-Za’wa--mmph! MMPH!” With two fingers, he pinched closed her lips and sealed them with a magical [i]zing![/i], leaving the woman to stagger backwards and claw at her mouth while tears and blood dripped from her face. The other women looked quietly away while the avatar let out a peaceful sigh. “That is right, deary - calling me that implies I’m on the same level as the other zawhattems or whatever they’re called. No, Twilight’s not like them - Twilight is his own king; I am the Demigod of the Night, richest man in the whole world, and my own high priest.” He hooked his arms around the torsos of two of the women in his bed and pulled them in, the two of them politely giggling along while their eyes conveyed a desperate need to flee. “None are on my level.” Arene had curled up on the ground, whimpering and holding her bleeding face in her hands. Twilight rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. The mahogany doors to his bedroom swung open, ushering in a tide of heavily tattooed old men wearing nothing but loincloths and hats that each resembled the male genital. Adding further to their shame, their backs had been stripped entirely of the ink they had been blessed with as entrants into the caste of Za’wal, and instead been replaced with a number, which had taken the role of their name. Twilight pushed a route through the pile of womenfolk and climbed out of bed at the foot end, servants hurrying over to wrap him in his morning kimono. The men stood waiting, their heads bent forward in shame which allowed their flaccid headgear to hang low over their foreheads. Twilight gave his golden goblet a sip and pointed lazily at the crying Arene. “Right, dickheads… Which one of you brought me this one, hmm? Was it you, Seventeen? Was it?” The man with the number 17 tattooed onto his back caved to his knees and sobbed. “Your Fantasticness, I just--” “App, app, app! None of that - none of that whining. Why’d you send her here, actually? Why her in particular? She’s not even that hot - just look at her face. It’s all scarred now.” “Y-yes, Your Fantasticness, of course. H-how foolish of me, I-I-I see it clearly now! She’s ugly! So very ugly!” “Woah, hey, don’t be an ass, Seventeen. She’s a lady, for gods’ sakes.” The avatar dragged a hand through his hair. Arene was slowly escorted out to be sent away. “Right, so… Why did you pick her exactly?” “W-w-well.. It’s h-her family, Your Superiority. A-an alliance with her family could--” Twilight groaned and turned back to his bed, walking over to caress some of her women under their chins as though they were dogs. “Ugh, again with the politics. I keep telling you to drop it - we will be fiiiiiiiine.” “A-actually. about that--” “... Have I not spent the last twenty years establishing myself as the top dog in this area? Whatever they throw at me, I’ll turn into, what...Puffed rice and coconut milk? We have -nothing- to worry about, people. Now if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of something...” He gave his goblet another slurp and started undressing again. “B-but Your Awesomeness--” “WHAT?! What is it, Seventeen?! What could -possibly- be so important that you are risking your very life just trying to tell me right now?” The priest had long since passed the line between sobbing and bawling. His colleagues, too, were in tears at this point. Seventeen took a deep breath and wailed, “They’re heeeere!” Twilight rolled his eyes. “Ugh, settle down, you big baby - who’s here?” “Fwom the, fromm ze… (Sniff!) … Fwom Zuanwa, ugh-hurk…” Twilight took a deep breath. “If it’s those wanna-be priests here for their taxes again, I’ll pay with their heads, I swear by the gods…” He shouldered his kimono back on and walked over an ornately carved sword display, whereupon was mounted his sword, [i]Tsukigami-no-Kokoro[/i]. He looked outside into the sunny day and muttered. “... Or a very bad concussion - depends how long they’re willing to wait, I guess.” “B-but Your Omnipotency, there’s more!” “You know, every time you in particular open your mouth, Number Twelve, I just really feel like breaking a puppy’s neck. You just have one of those voices, you know?” The man in question shrunk together like a drying mushroom, and another took his place. “Your Remarkably, please!” “Now you, Number Four, you have a voice like satin, and I’m admittedly still at half mast after being interrupted for the tenth time now. You have ten seconds to get your point across, or I’ll have you’ll be joining us in bed afterwards.” He turned and looked over at the horrified priest, then grimaced. “Oh, ne-ver-mind, you are ancient. I keep forgetting that, sorry. Ugh, yikes, scratch that invitation. Actually, you can narrate the action when I get back to it. Oh, yeah, that’d be some sexy play, now that I think about it.” He unsheathed his sword and studied the way the sun bounced off the milky blade. He swore his breath as a hit to the wall left a dent rather than a cut and sighed. “Well, I’m waiting - tell me what’s up so I can get back to the ladies.” “W-well, as Seventeen said, there are people here from Zuanwa--” “It -is- the fucking tax collectors, isn’t?!” Twilight brandished his blade menacingly. “NO! No! No, Your Magnificence, it’s… It’s your son.” Twilight blinked, sheathing his sword again. He walked over to the footend of the bed and sat down, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. “Which one?” “By wife or by age, Your Illustriousness?” “By wife, please.” “Then it’s the son of magnificent huntress of the Ta’zesh, Eronwe of--” “Wait, who?” The priest looked to be dying inside. “The huntress of Ta’zesh, Eron--” “Speak clearly, man.” “Crystal, Your Justice.” “Oh! Crystal! Riiiiiiiiiight, right, right… The one with the, the…” “The mammaries, Your Pride, yes.” “Oh, gods bless those magnificent tits. I needed four hands just to hold them without them spilling all over… So I grew an extra pair. Ah, good times…” The avatar smirked reminiscently as the priests looked to be struggling with finding motivations to live. “Yes, Your Handsomeness. Her son has come to see you.” “Which one?” “The oldest, Your Stellarity. The impeccable student of Za’wal, the zealous and brave Rusal of--” “Uuuuugh…” “... Twolight Number One, Your Supremacy.” The avatar exploded into a snorting laughter, some of the women joining him on account of being high on way too many substances. Otherwise, the room was silent and cheerless as the grave. Wiping away some tears of joy, he sighed contently. “One of my better jokes, that...Come on, it’s super funny, isn’t it? It’s funny ‘cuz, ‘cuz… Ah, you understand it:” “Yes, Your Hilarity. He is here to see you.” “Welp.” The avatar stood back up again and tied the sheath of the sword to his belt. “Better go say hello to the little squirt. Play with sticks or whatever.” He turned around and beckoned over the women who were away. “Come on now, girls, don’t be shy. Kissy-kissy. Mwah! Mwah! Luv yoo. Don’t smoke all the weed while I’m gone.” “We won’t, daddy!” Twilight clicked his tongue and stood back up, turning to the doors and strolling lazily outside, his council of “dickheads” following out of a slave-like sense of servitude. The entourage travelled across the enormous garden of Twilight’s estate, marble towers and temples of gold and silver to himself intermittently scattered between thick forests of all kinds of wine fruits and narcotic plants, all protected inside a beautiful stone wall. All sorts of exotic carnivores roamed the forests, from shadowtigers to owlixes to leons - most importantly for Twilight, however, this garden was his primarily source of entertainment, as guests who were high off their genitals were set free in the woods to survive for days and nights as its inhabitants would hunt them down to feast. Currently, though, the animals had been caged, and the garden was home to groups of naked guests tasting its many drugging fruits. They immediately prostrated themselves upon seeing Twilight, who waved at them with all the grace of a king. When he arrived at the gates to his estate, which were both made of pure gold and were really testing the strength of their hinges, he pushed them open and stepped outside to see a crowd of hundreds, spearheaded by one familiar face. All of them were armed to the teeth for all that was worth, and Twilight’s divine hearing heard groaning bowstrings from many more places than ones in which he could see people. He looked over his shoulder and noticed that his priests had hurried down the hundred-step marble and gold staircase to join the army. The avatar ignored all of it, however, and opened his arms as he slowly walked down the stairs. “Junior! How nice of you to visit your old man!” “Be where you are, tyrant! I, Rasul of the Za’wal, have come to--” “Twolight, that’s not your name, come on. Give your dad a hug now, come up here.” Rasul glared. “As I was saying, I have brought all the peoples and tribes you have wounded and tortured throughout your rule, and we will no longer--!” “Pssh, let’s not talk about that right now. It’s been so long, son!” The avatar stopped halfway down the stairs when he saw his son take a combat stance and point his obsidian spear at him. “Now, now, you shouldn’t point sharp things at daddy. Remember what your mommy-...” “YOU NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT MY MOTHER! You didn’t care when she got the fever and died ten years ago. It was YOUR fault that she died, because you threw us out! And for what?! Because she said she wasn’t feeling it one night, is that it?!” “Kinda her fault for not feeling it - I mean, come on.” “Twilight of the Za’watem caste…” The avatar’s gloating smirk disappeared in an instant. “What’s that, boy?” “...You are hereby accused of multiple cases of heresy against the gods…” Slowly,Twilight continued to descend the stairs. “You better stop right there, kid.Your old man has a few rules in the house that you’re dangerously close to breaking.” “... Violence against your subjects and those of your caste…” The chilling sound of steel sounded from Twilight’s sheathe. His son eyed the weapon with quiet acknowledgement and continued, “... Violence against our own family and both men and women of your own court… Lying, stealing, pretending to be of a different caste... Murder of hundreds of people.” “If you don’t stop right there, I might add another to that list, kid.” Twilight was now only a few metres from his son, and the army hastened to surround him, a phalanx of spears closing in around him. “I might add many, many more.” Rusal didn’t back down, but kept his glare as adamant as his father’s, perhaps even more so. “In the sight of the gods and representatives of every caste, father, you are hereby sentenced to death for your crimes against Zuanwa and her people. Now, attack!” Instantly, the world around them went black; in a second, it had shifted from day to night, and the moon was out despite the fact that, in every sense of reality, it should be a little past midday. Immediately, the army panicked, squeals and screams sounding as fidgety militia accidentally stabbed their neighbours, which only led to greater panic and more accidents. Coming from almost everywhere at once, Twilight’s voice cackled. “Wow, -this- is what you had in store for me?! A fucking ambush?! Wow, you can’t be my son if you’re -this- slow, can you?” “STAY CALM! He’s just testing us! Find him quickly and--” Rusal’s commands were cut short by the song of cold steel as it sliced through skin, bone and flesh as though it was air. A wet crunch sounded as his head and body dropped to the leafy jungle floor and the moonlight cast a beam upon the corpse for all to see. “Guess we’ll add ‘murder of family’ to that, too.” More screams at the sight of the corpse further intensified the panic. Many tried to avenge their leader by searching for the avatar, but it was no use in the mosh pit of people running for their lives with weapons in hand. As the people dispersed and ran back home, the avatar stood pondering over his son’s corpse. His boy, who had been his firstborn - the son of his favourite wife - laid dead… And he felt nothing. If anything, Twilight felt relief that he had shut him up. The avatar let the day return again and observed the ruined fields before his estate. There laid roughly twenty to twenty-five corpses around, some stampeded to death and others still suffering the last of their feeble lives. Twilight made a lopsided frown, and after caving in the heads of those in suffering, he went inside, packed some lunch in a bag and tied it to his sheath. Now that one wave had come, he would no doubt get no respite from incessantly visiting children and lesser chiefs who would come to claim his head. He needed his peace - his peace and quiet and sexy women. Therefore, he journeyed out once more, looking for another place to settle anew and repeat the cycle all over. It had been good, though. It had been really good. Maybe he could beat his record next time? [hider=Summary] Twilight’s livin’ the dream in Zuanwa - he’s got a nice house, nice drink and nice ladies. Then one of the new girls accidentally implies he’s equal to the other za’watem and gets her lips sealed magically as a result. Twilight scolds her and calls in his councillors to explain why they elected her to be one of his many concubines. After scolding them, too, they tell him that his son has come to visit. After taking his sweet time remembering which son it is, he goes out to see him. Turns out Twilight hasn’t exactly been ruling ethically, so his son has shown up with an army to rebel. After insulting his Twilight with accusations that the avatar doesn’t quite agree with, Twilight turns day into night and slaughters his son. The rest of the army disperses in panic. After that, Twilight decides his tired of life in Zuanwa and moves on. [/hider] [hider=MP Sum] Giblight 5/5 1DP - Godly feat: Turn day into night over Zuanwa for a short duration. 5/4 [/hider]