† 3rd -- broadcast mind
The first thing you hear is the voice of God.
"Thou art the anointed cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so: thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire."
"Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee."
---
There is a beautiful woman with long, black hair. Her hands are rough from battle, her eyes, hardened from the kill. Her three, white wings are stained red with blood. But she is still beautiful. Fiercely beautiful. What beauty, you think. You are drawn to it. Obsessed with it.
This must be Hate, you think. It's Hate.
What is it you want? she asks.
Your most fervent wish is to one day possess a body of your own, so that you might touch that beautiful hair of hers.
If you join me and fight with me, I will tell you who you really are.
Which is just fine with you. After you find out your true identity, after you possess a body of your own, you will kill her with your own two hands. Because you hate her, after all.
---
When you finally do have your own two hands, your own eyes to see with, your own ears to hear with, your own feet to walk with, your own body to possess and touch and feel with, she is gone. So you chase her, across years, decades, centuries, lifetimes.
It's the Hate you feel that makes you do this.
(Until a little boy with glasses, a boy who loves to read, tells you later, much later, that it's called Love.)
---
Her voice blends with the babble of a rushing river in the background.
You are a cruel man, Lucifel.
Her hair is soft.
[OOC: Bible verses at beginning are Ezekial 28:14-15]
"Thou art the anointed cherub that covereth; and I have set thee so: thou wast upon the holy mountain of God; thou hast walked up and down in the midst of the stones of fire."
"Thou wast perfect in thy ways from the day that thou wast created, till iniquity was found in thee."
---
There is a beautiful woman with long, black hair. Her hands are rough from battle, her eyes, hardened from the kill. Her three, white wings are stained red with blood. But she is still beautiful. Fiercely beautiful. What beauty, you think. You are drawn to it. Obsessed with it.
This must be Hate, you think. It's Hate.
What is it you want? she asks.
Your most fervent wish is to one day possess a body of your own, so that you might touch that beautiful hair of hers.
If you join me and fight with me, I will tell you who you really are.
Which is just fine with you. After you find out your true identity, after you possess a body of your own, you will kill her with your own two hands. Because you hate her, after all.
---
When you finally do have your own two hands, your own eyes to see with, your own ears to hear with, your own feet to walk with, your own body to possess and touch and feel with, she is gone. So you chase her, across years, decades, centuries, lifetimes.
It's the Hate you feel that makes you do this.
(Until a little boy with glasses, a boy who loves to read, tells you later, much later, that it's called Love.)
---
Her voice blends with the babble of a rushing river in the background.
You are a cruel man, Lucifel.
Her hair is soft.
[OOC: Bible verses at beginning are Ezekial 28:14-15]