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Lucifel's Ideal World v.3
—The world is ugly, he once declared.
Chaos is inevitable in this world. Pure good can’t be achieved, and pure evil breaks down. And these two extremes are always incompatible with each other. There is still some evil in a good world. That is how the world is, and it is what continues to create ugly things. Evil sneers at good, and good rages over evil. But, in a world where good and evil oppose each other, there is a group that is far more numerous that always appears.
That is ‘grey’. Neither good nor evil. A group that drifts through life haphazardly and merely exists. They don’t believe in goodness and are simply proud that they aren’t evil. Even though they affirm evil acts, they deny evil intentions. They happily say that ‘I am not evil, I am a good person’ and pardon all forms of cruelty.
They kill people while sneering. They kill people out of contempt. They kill people as part of a game. They use the excuse that they can’t restrain their desires—That’s how humans are. That’s how the world is.
Yes—this world is extremely ugly. Neither dyed by good nor fallen into evil. Unable to decide on a color, the wills of people continue to waver. As long as such evil intentions and such foul-smelling corpses aren’t destroyed.
The world will surely continue to rot eternally.
While wrapped within a curse-like fog in darkness frozen to its core.
He thus concluded.
Powers are off.
Corruptions are off.
Carry-on Weapons are not available.
Other carry-on items are available.
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Your existence is instantly fused with the Grail. You're overcome by a comfortable feeling like when one is about to fall asleep, and the sensation continues infinitely. You're engulfed by something soft, and you keep sinking without end—
down,
down,
down.
Any malice, no matter how strong, would vanish here.
Any desire to kill, no matter how great, would be useless in the face of this.
This entire space, filled with happiness, peace, pleasure, order and purity all mixed together, feels like sweet milk dripping over your entire body.
So pleasant it is, that it feels as though your brain's functions have halted.
Your brains functions have become unnecessary.
Thought and instinct are unneeded. So melt away. Melt away and become one with it, until you’re reduced to mere sweet, formless milk. ]
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... isn't it?]
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After all, here—you don't need to think anymore. ]
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but also there's something annoyingly niggling at the back of his mind, as if he should be more alarmed but no. this is... nice? it's nice? ??? things can be nice???]
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Your entrance has already been sealed shut.
You can only walk, now—but there is no real direction, here. Walk anywhere you like, and you'll find something.
Or maybe, you'll only find more pleasure.
Either way—you can sink or you can swim.
But sinking is so nice, isn't it? ]
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chasing that high seems like ideal choice, tbqh--... ideal.
yeah, chasing that high. thinking bad. thinking very bad.]
1/3 (body horror/dysphoria adjacent)
As a denizen, you may recover that WILL through rest.You do not "hear" so much as "sense" that you cannot lose your WILL—that it is imperative to keep—but you have already begun to feel the effects.
Inside of yourself, it feels as though something's taken hold—your stomach and organs ache, the same ache of extreme hunger; at no point does it hurt, but you can feel yourself craving as though you hadn't eaten in weeks, parched as though you hadn't drank any water in days—
Then, there's a feeling of twisting, as though someone takes your insides and wrings them out. This, too, does not feel painful, though it feels uncomfortable all the same—like someone's turned off your pain receptors but left every other feeling there—and finally, after it feels as though your insides have knotted themselves up . . .
. . . something inside you blooms. Warmth swells, from your stomach and your chest, but it's a pleasant warmth—you could almost lose yourself to it—and it leaves a sweet taste at the back of your mouth. The feeling and taste will pass after a moment, but you no longer feel hungry. Instinctively, you know this means you no longer require sustenance to live. ]
(body horror/dysphoria adjacent, cont.)
As a denizen, you may recover your WILL through rest.You do not "hear" so much as "sense" that you have been welcomed into this world—it's as though it's acknowledged and registered your presence, and you understand that you have lost.
Inside of yourself, it feels as though something's taken hold—your skin begins to burn, feeling sore as though you're recovering from frostbite or stretching for too long; at no point does it hurt, but you can feel your body tightening in on itself, as though you were freezing outside overnight—
Then, there's a feeling of twisting, as though someone takes your body and wrings it out. This, too, does not feel painful, though it feels uncomfortable all the same—like someone's turned off your pain receptors but left every other feeling there—and finally, after it feels as though your body has knotted up . . .
. . . something inside you blooms. Warmth swells, from the tip of your head and fingers to the very ends of your toes, but it's a pleasant warmth—you could almost lose yourself to it—and it leaves you feeling as though you were standing on something soft, pleasant enough to sink into and lose yourself. The feeling will pass after a moment, but instinctively, you know this means you have become a denizen of this dream, and you can no longer hurt or be hurt by any other denizen.
You have lost your WILL. As a denizen, you may recover your WILL through rest. ]
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The void. . . seems to be shaken. . . ? ]
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A light begins to peek into the void. ]
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you could almost reach out to the world, if you wanted to . . . ]
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