The Ocean. The real and the unreal and all inbetween this. In the end there was but the Ocean in all its glory; the particles of power to swim through, the life of luxuries to drown in and the dreams to succumb to, and once more the current would flow. Who oh who would master the undertow of the nightmarish Ocean? It flowed, its strange glowing green, its oddly hued blue, its bare backed white foam, its depths blacker than the souls of Hell. Yet, it was the Ocean, nothing new, yet full of mysteries beyond that of the comprehension of man.
But, which one? The Ocean he was born from had no water, no hydrogen, no oxygen, and yet there was something, somewhere birthed out of things that were both considrered legend and real, speculated and forgotten and mocked, yet the entity was indeed from this Ocean, that which flowed freely as it chose, moving where it wanted; from within the depths lies the toy, The Grid, but there are hundreds upon hundreds; like the grains of sand on the shore, almost endless, almost innumerable. To poke, to point, to play, to swim; oceans within the Ocean itself, as if making it known that its existances were no game; everywhere and always it ebbed, still, which one?
A shrine built to the false ocean is where The Perplexed Celestial would be sent, how dare they build lies to the sea. Did they know that The Sea would wash away all of these pathetic little altars? These nothing doing imaginary shrines and gods would have to be disposed of; they could worship all but Ocean itself, yet they built shrines to mock the Ocean itself. The Grid, the one of the reality where the Shrine to the Sea was built outside of Leviathan Stadium, outside of Latent, the outer city near the expanses of water which covered their petty planet; this was The One. It would be the target, and the target would be destroyed.
Lines, forming from colorless strands that seemed without end would indeed be seen by the Celestial sent to do the job, tired of blasphemies against itself the Ocean chose Fate to do this task. Medial in nature, Fate dare not disobey The Ocean, the one who could simply discard him, as well as the "Gods and Goddessess" of the mortals. Apathetically the strands targetted would seem to stop, the pulses along them ending; even the very fermions and bosons would quit their squiggling as the Grid came to a halt for a moment. That moment being longer than a moment, yet shorter than a second, yet forever, and yet not. Oddly, what made little sense made all the sense in the Universe to The Perplexed Celestial.
Replacement, it was the first step really; one by one, random particles within the stopped grid would transform into parts for the beings body, it wanted not one, but two, yet it would take only one and make the second from it; power surging, dripping, moving, and reluctantly obeying the whim of one higher being. Electrons, protons, nuetrons, all of them would slide, shift, move, connect, fuse, all with their energies never being released for within this moment, this eternal end, there was no energy of the sort. The grid like an abbacus, the particls being slid together into elemental compounds, and those being seered together with probability and just a little energy. All together forming but once shell, it took years, years and years and millenia, however finally all of these small particles were connected; pieced together, placed, and pressed into being. Many things were missing, many were made, equality and the exchange, yet there was the lack of force within the world itself which was odd.
Glued, now there was the problem, the lack of life and actual transport into The Grid itself, however, the physical being would sit there, not moving, still with lines which the Normals and Lowers could not see at all, strung up on these little wires, the puppet was ready for actual occupation. It was time to begin, and time to end as well; for now, Decent from the Throne itself began; the Soul of the Celestial moving at speeds much faster than that of light, but taking another journey and a half as it left its Home. No wires, it was like a ghost, the anomaly would slither through, around, and within the very Grids lines passing through like they were never there. It was hard to accept reality; to be bound by physics that he normally laughed at as mortals met gruesome fates. Into, that was the end, into and it was done.
Assimilation, stepping into the body, it fused, it became, and it was. Living again, there was the mortal, named Drake LeFroy long before ascension, this one would have no name; he was not "Nameless", no, he was an Unknown, another one of the anomalies. Taking however his previous name and engraving it upon the world, his identity would be sealed as "Drake LeFroy" once more, he needed not the name, but the Normals had the urge to label everything. And he was now a 'thing'. He would have to play by their rules for a little while...
The Grid still not moving, the fused body moved, its long slender black fingers which shined and held the color Jet, like the rest of its body, wiggled and writhed just a bit; having joints again was difficult when one was actually within the body he had made himself, "Drake LeFroy" would bend the middle knuckle, and then the one to the right of it, followed by the one to the left, the one of the thumb, and finally the one of the 'pinky'. Clenching, as if grabbing something so tiny no Normal could even fathom, his hand would swivel slightly within the appropriate range using the wrist. Getting reaquainted with this body would take time, and of course he had forever, yet at the same time, he was out of time; it was all the same to Fate, he knew, and yet he knew nothing.
The body moved, the toes, and then the foot, and the heel, and the knee, and the thigh; all of these parts, the humanoid figure of Jet who looked as if he was of some sort of stone took in a deep "breath" as the world, The Grid, started up once more. Pusles moving through him, through his eyes, his body, through and through, data confirmed, he was now 'real'. The Ocean broke off from the now Mortal Celestial; for the time being, until his quest was completed, he was to remain mortal. He could die. Knowing, yet gracious, he prayed for it, but he could never end himself since The Ocean would prevent such things of its Slaves. Arms and Legs, ancient and still well excercised apparently, struggled against friction with little but some force; waking up to this would be harsh, and without eyes, he would see all infront of him through Gridlines. Coordinates playing out in his head, in his mind, in the actual Soul of the man, granted all his power but mortal, he would do what was neccessary. Destroy the Shrine.
Sand underneath, warmth he hadn't felt in decades numbered by the millions, there was nothing but that sensation. Sensation. It was odd after so long; long forgotten and lost within the grooves of the grey matter, standing upon a... 'beach'. That is what the Lesser's name for it was, a 'beach'. Grains of the Universe, the Grains which resembled the realities in all their total splendor. Each not too important, and not too big either. Dimensional breaches and energies within him, a step, it felt like he was moving a boulder; learning gravity anew, he was strong enough to stand, but it was damned near impossible to just 'move' when bound by these physics even slightly. He would release himself temporarily; just until it was over, and then he would leave.
Walking towards the Triangular Blasphemy, another Celestial would come from his Throne and poke at "Drake". The touch in the shoulder did not hurt, but it got his attention. Turning to his right he would see the only one of the Higher Order which was more poweful than himself.
Luck.
"The Lessers and the Mortals are rebelling. They consider themselves gods and The Ocean is not happy with them. Abandon your current mission; you are to enter their pathetic tournament. There will be ones who are to aid you; they are Mortals #34902801-209-94895 and #85024908-213-68659, along with them will be the Lower Elemental God of Ice and Snow. Go, visit them all, the God first. You are to join, and defeat all of the others in their pathetic tournament, showing them true power so that they know their place." Finishing the non-existant being stood before him; it was possible, for she was still within the Logical Grid, still of the Lower Level Realities. Monotone, harmonic, melodic, dangerous, calm, loving, spiteful, and then just not there; the voice was it all, and all of it was of the feminine vocal.
"Yes Lady Luck, I shall go and do the will of The Ocean, lest its will be corrupted by these Lessers." Turning towards Levithan after somehow recieving the coordinates and information from Luck's very presence, the faceless figure nodded and took steps, gravitons defied and denied, he would move fluidly as he simply glided inbetween steps, he didn't need to touch the earth, yet he wanted to; sensation, it was a glorious thing. "I shall not fail you..." Moving off the beach, away from the Blasphemy towards his next mission, the points of interest would appear within his mind, the world like a dynamic map for him, he would know where those he would search for would be.
He knew of the Ice God, Seta Frost, for he had indeed battled him long ago when he was human, and of the two "Mortals". Merkyd Key, the one who was with the Soul Tree, and now with the Tree which he created; knowing not nor caring for the name, he would search him out after the Ice God. His mission would be fulfilled. There was then Donald Tenebrae; oh, that would be the leader, as dictated by Luck. Not being meant to lead this team, for only a Lesser could do it without their disqualification, he let the world revolve more than once. More than twice. Standing still, two days without movement, and then, a step through a temporal tear; on Tramar's lands he would meet Seta Frost...
Yet, now within the tangle of this small war for Absolutism, The Ocean would pull strings and bring the strongest of the Planet together to challenge the ex-human; smooth Jet body looking about, placing skin over itself time after time, finally would be in its original form once more. Finally, there would be a fight, and he would fight it.
However, could the competition hope to keep up with a superior being? And then, as a human, Drake was clever, how could the beings of the Lesser kind defeat him? However, he would depend on the others to aid him, he didn't like it, but he had to. It was a requirement.
Now with a team he would fight and if he lost, he would die. Let the others fall to Hell, he would again earn the right to ascend beyond Heaven.
And in the end, it is I, The Ocean, who shall decide who wins. My Celestial versus a planet, yet, my Celestial and Champion has done it before; what are these fools to Him? Celestial Perplexed, destroy them and their impudent attemps at power.
I am The Ocean.
The very Gods, Celestials, and Unknowns are my slaves.
Their Eradication was imminent I suppose...
Gaia must be destroyed.
[ I got bored. I'm sorry... If its taking up too much space I'll delete it and post it elsewhere. That and its not a very interesting read.
sweatdrop ]
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