High Cosmosis Arc of Reversal, Ring 9 (Darkest Disc)

High Cosmosis Arc of Reversal, Ring 9 (Darkest Disc)

Is the authority on floor 247015. A floor with no name, no air or ceiling, a world of void. Every individual on this floor is not an individual. The beings are anonymous flickers of light, sometimes described as wisps or eerie flames. These spirits exist in a great white void they call The Idle. There is no grass in the Idle. No atmosphere, no clouds or any conception of nature to be found in existence here. One can imagine a blank white room, extended radically. Extreme angles form everything geographically. Everything in the white void of the Idle is geometrical, shapely and immaculate. For most hours of the day, the world is stern and silent, respecting the blankness that goes on forever. A brief time per cycle, the wisps come out of rows of large boxes, cubes which are the closest to dwellings one could surmise, perhaps. The High Cosmos regulates the body of souls that come into existence and accounts for them everytime they march and move out the cubes, themselves larger brighter entities than the other wisps. Wisps can only be born by a fissure, lit and kindled from other flames of their mother bearers. This process is spontaneous and without prediction. Once the population has been accounted for and the world resumes a renascent fulfillment of its passages, large taps rise out of the ground. The language of these entities appears to be a certain wave of their top flame, something still incomprehensible to most mortals. Once the taps fully rise, the wisps are responsible for choosing a tap, and awaiting a colorful sludge to drip down and overfill down over them. The soft, pudgy liquid snuffs them out, but bloats in turn into a shapely golem-like construct. The wisp is transformed into a worker of sorts, and mindlessly moves along. All workers have different colors, which signifies a different occupation - red standing guard, blue watching the pipe system that brings the sludge, pinks occupying the High Cosmos. On rare occasions a wisp is colored white or doesn't grow properly, moves out of line, these are seen as 'duds.' One such dud was quickly surrounded by the High Cosmos in defiance. Black sludge is poured on them from buckets and brushes. The dud screams and steams, until it is remade into another drone. These kinds are oily and black, they contain large zippers over their mouth and body, and glass eye lenses. They're fond of eating red paint, but drool it quite often.

In one incident, we witnessed a Wisp produce an offspring, a smaller wisp. This newborn could not stay in line, and seemed insistent it's 'mother' Wisp did not step under the tap. A swollen flame of the High Cosmo came to enforce, as if putting a warrant out for their arrest. In defiance, the motherly wisp swallowed all its attackers, growing engorged. It picked up the small wisp and fled to the edge of The Idle's city.

Outside the boundaries of the cubes, roam the eldernauts. Eldernauts are large, colorful elks shaded in pure silhouette. Their bodies are two-dimensional, and they march their entire existence without rest, feed or stopping by a rainbow riverbed of some strange ethereal fluid. Much like the wisps, they produce asexually. Once they have run their entire life, they flicker out of existence, and cease running forever. A large colorful parrot called the Ode of Evil flies with maddened eyes, when it finds a wisp, tears at it, pulls something out of its kernel, a worm-like band of quantum matter. It devours this band as a meal and the wisp flickers and dies. The mother Wisp watched in the outskirts as the parrot descended and grew in size, swelling and blazing to fend it off. It pushed its offspring behind and hopped on the parrot's wing. The Ode of Evil was injured, and flew off. The wisp fell slightly into the ethereal river, gaining a set of rainbow colors to its flame. When it splashes out, weak and weary, its mother has been slain.

The wisp was alone.

There was something in the river it spotted. A shining jewel or object. It attempted to swim to catch it, but was too weak and pulled by the current. Feeding on the sparks of the Eldernauts, it spent a long time growing and subsisting alone. When time passed and it finally grew enough, the wisp again swam into the river. This time it pulled out an artifact finally, and swallowed it up, its flames assimilating it as its center.

The wisp followed the trail of the Eldernauts around the world, finding they went in a large circle around The Idle. The only place they stopped was a hollow triangle, occupied by crones in strange masks and baggy hooded cloaks. These crones ran THE LIBRARY OF LIGHT, of which all knowledge in this world descended. Every book in the library projected an animated reel across its pages, much like a movie screen. The wisp began to collect and 'learn' from these.

Its fundamental nature began to change. The library, founded on the basis of love and wisdom by these masked crones, sought the answers to the nature of the universe, and other universes beyond. High Cosmos regulated the bodies of expression and, and were led by an indulgent group of glowing spheres calling themselves the Council of Petal. Because the wisp had stepped out of line, it was an outlaw. It. What was it?

The feeling of expression was a complicated farce indeed. Why am I living and not dead? I'd rather have roses in my yard and thorns in my head, than roses in my bed and thorns in my heart. Solitary bloom in the garden. This book spoke of humility as charming except when it leads to long standing harming. This world's esoteric law is that Same attracts Same. Love is a little more complicated here than in another, because love of self is always to be smothered. Am I a girl? What is a girl?  How.. long have I been here?

I desired to narrate so much,

But nobody desired me. I am alone.

What's.... "Me?" What is any of this?

What what what when who why where how what is any of why is who are you what am I amazing where is the thing with a sky and us that hold objects where I am what I am the thing that thinks is a thought am I the thoughts that hold the coming and going of what is and isn't in the endless thoughts that hold me?

W-what? Whaaaaaaaaat?

Ugh.

"Friends" What does that mean?

There are many universes, and every universe has its creator, and above all of them, even above the Council of Petal is a fox of many colors and endless laughter. The spheres, a book told me, Spheres of the Council of Petal are Multidimensional beings, whose information channels are able to realize the full extent of the fox's reach, but who even their sources can not penetrate. The many of this world give up solitude for an assembly line, geez, couldn't we atleast get a paycheck?

Betelgeuze.

It.. I named myself Wick Betelgueze, out of a strange book about the afterlife I found and another full of slang that described their 'feelings.' It was, 'wicked', that was what Wick felt. I felt. The first book had a girl in it who was alone, who fled the authorities. Like me. Why was she so shapely, Am I but a flicker? I saw this girl in the book, this 'gothic' girl. She was gorgeous. Her adversary was a clown with spooky antics, the shapely one in black and white stripes and green hair, he was also oh so inspiring. He was 'funny.' I wanted to be funny. What in this realm possessed me to want to be like them? To be like anything? What is being? I'm just a stupid little girl. If I am a girl, at all. I feel I’m no longer a wisp, but something more and will continue to be. The crones started to close the LIBRARY OF LIGHT, they had their reasons. I followed them out to the riverside, the Eldernauts were singing a lullaby to the colorful, rainbow astral ocean and sky. The crones, who I could hear without a sound, told me if you listen closely, the song could open up your mind and purify your heart.

What's a heart? I don't know. My light flickered like crazy. I am still a speck in an endless void of white. A flickering light, a wisp. Where did I come from? Something, another wisp brought me into being. They are gone now, leaving only me. There were others like me, I remember. I left them behind.

Among the Ilk there is a particular silhouette without antlers, one very fat and large, larger than the library itself. The books call this being a "Pig" or "Hog." I can understand this great hog, although it speaks no words. It laughs with me everyday. It's laughter makes my wisp emit a beaming flicker, full of joy and warmth. I spend time with this Great Hog and it teaches me its secrets. The hog is something of a farce, much like this world. It teaches me to do strange things for no other reason than them being weird and strange - a "Joke", a "Prank", all in jest, like ourselves. We play together. I am still lonely, a lonely flicker in the void. But the Great Hog teaches me to deal with this lonely existence by seeing the joke in it all.

I spend many cycles watching many more books. Many on jokes, mostly on pranks and whimsy. This whole world seems like that, y'know? A farce. I've read the Betelgueze book so many times I've lost track. The girl in the story is so beautiful. What if I kiss her? I recall a Fairy tail where a green shapely creature is kissed, and turns into a royal, much like the Petal of Spheres. No wait, those are two different groups. Whatever dudes. Maybe if the girl in the book kisses me, I'll turn white and green like the clown in her story and she'll be my bride.

What's a bride? It's time to hear the song of the Elk again. The Great Hog watches with me. It teaches me many ways to fool these Ilk. A "Fool" it considers me. That doesn't sound so bad.

 

Before I even realized it, I've heard their song so many times, and memorized every book in the library. I can hear the crones thoughts now, although they cannot speak. The light in the sky is so pure. It's a light of countless colors lighting up the sky, what is it? I don't know. The object inside me lights up when the Ilk sing, and it's perfectly quiet. The sky is so beautiful. I wish I could show that gothic girl in the story these lights.

One day, a series of drones lurch on the horizon. The drones cower. The drones, I remember them so long ago- they were like the black zipper shapes I recall in my infancy. That was so long ago, the pigs were still roasting then. My light flickers so brightly when I think of that one.. 'Roasting.' Pulling one over someone. Mocking.  The zipper drones burn down the library of light.

It finally lived up to its name.

I'm dragged away and brought back to the Idle. Deep within the heartland is a realm full of large hats, massive pencils, cracked screens and shards of glass, piles and piles of garbage. Flickering lights sneak coins and bullets while we march per procedure. Gangsters, smugglers, outlaws. They throw fruit at the drones as they cross a bridge with a rushing river of the ethereal multispectral. Where does fruit come from anyway? I don't know where it's from, but I know where fruit goes now.

It goes towards yo face!

I'm brought to the center of a large chamber full of many stripes. Like a circus. 3 Spheres full of gushing cerebral fluid float above, pulsating, gooey matter thinking with synaptic light high in the altitude. The Council of Petal. There's toilet paper above the beams, is that considered sacred here? I would've thrown toilet paper over them all day if they'd asked.

The middle authorities, the High Cosmos on one lower ring and the Council of Petal watching at the top seem to delegate. I can barely read their thoughts, but that's being rather generous. Eventually they sent a special unit after me. This unit takes pitch black paint and attempts to throw it over me. The paint oozes and squirms, clinging to my body in an inky mass. It takes the same form as the other drones and a zipper mouth appears on me. I look just like them now. Feels kinda funny really, but I've read these Zipper drone’s minds enough to know they don’t have a single joke in their heads, and I’ll never give up on jokes. The unit takes an instrument. This one is shaped like a tube with a set of cone triangles atop, wires around them and a cork-shaped spiral handle.

I sit and examine myself, like the doctor I read about in a book once. Patch Adams? Wasn’t he played by a famous comedian in another world? Robin Willydumbs? I’m rather obsessed with comedy, jesters, clowns and comedians. But this doctor is like, way less funny dudes. They don't even have a big red sphere anywhere. The entity connects the tube to an oily tap and taking distance, blasts me with it.

Suddenly I hear voices.

FORGET YOURSELF

YOU ARE NONE

ABSOLUTE OBEDIENCE

RESPECTABLE SOCIETY

CONFORMITY NOT ANARCHY

SLAVERY IS SATISFYING

They reverberate, and attempt to reshape my being to the core. The vibrations shake me and my world for a few moments. But the jewel inside me glows. Its power and echoes are louder than those of the priest they sent. The figure in front of me tries again, everything shakes. They throw more oily black paint on me and attempt to quiet my thoughts until only obedience remains. But when it stops, I am still present. I am me.

Inside, the jewel in my core glows. The light overpowers the slick black goop, effacing a hole in it and revealing me in the centermost cavity, surrounded by a black shell. Its mass generates a gravity well that bends every entity in the room to the ground, and something else starts coming out of it. Something thorny, viney and long. Multiplying with the tensile force of a thousand nooses around everyone's necks, leaves overgrowing everywhere and the thorns they leave choking them in place. The motion of these vines spread until nearly everyone in the room but me is ensnared, their squirming is like a litany of desperation. I float in the abyss of the shell they made me and watch, recalling a familiar scene in one of those books I read.

What was that one book called? Oh yeah.

Carrie.

Not to be confused with Jim Carrey, a character in another book who played a green clown guy. That clown was very funny and could do so many weird zany strange things, an inspiration really. Wasn’t Carrie a Steven King Novel? Not like his one with the shapeshifting Clown either. I'm a bit obsessed with clownmen, they’re just funny okay. They do strange toony things that are goofy and make no sense. Maybe I could do strange toony things too if I tried? The vines aren't really clowny tho, mostly scary to everyone.

But beforelong the tent is in tatters. The High Cosmos are cocoon'd in vine-wrap it looks shiny like- vinyl? Vine-yl? I just made a pun. Puns are funny. I like funny, I laugh. Them and their drones are perched into the dirt. Uptop is still the Council of Petal.

Three spheres, beings of pure energy. But when I draw closer I ask if this is really the case? They seem to have physical forms when approached up close, one a star, another a dodecahedron and the third a crescent. All three begin to glow, and something sparks out of them. A bright light in the shape of a triangle, merging and hitting me. It pushes me back, they fire it out of fear. Out of me, a bubbly set of foam starts to expand out and stretch, forming arms with puffy sleeves. It grows larger than the 3 combined, and its hands clap them swiftly. I can hear crunching, and just like that the compression is done. When the hands pull away, I see three colorful painted horses, stiff and plastic. They fall to the ground, crash, and do not get up again.

I float to the top of the tent and tear through the top. A beam from above ascends me higher and higher, and soon I float out of this world altogether. The ink from the droney shell begins to drip, and vines fill my inner cavity. I manipulate them and they form a body without organs. Limbs, to complete a slinky shape, like one I've seen in my favorite books.  My wisp-like body becomes as white and hard eggshell and forms a porcelain surface, with ink becoming my bodysuit over my newly emerging limbs. I tug and grip at the goop, pulling it above my head into a cowl. With a little work, I'm able to form three bells jingling atop.

Standing on two legs, and waving my wobbly arms is strange, but I do it. I take another step, realizing my form is bipetal- no, not bipetal, nor tripetal, I decide I hate petals really. Bipedal, two legs and two arms, hands, head, spine and all, my white shell is a porcelain face and the inky coat acts as a jester’s tight dark inky bodysuit. I can do anything I please now, looking out into the world. It's not like where I came- wherever I ended up, it's another floor from before. Faceless, I begin my jaunt.

And so Wick Betelgeuse did.