Seon
Not An Evil Liar
A Warm Welcome to Hell
Day 1
Hidden in some forgotten place at the borderlands of dreams and our world, the Impostor Church is hard at work creating a new world based on their visions, with the help of certain gods sympathetic to their goals. Clouds overhead burn brightly over the harbor as the ship sails to dock at its harbor. Ropes come to life like snakes and sailors beat them to death with an oar. The sky opens up and disgorge new set of experimental laws, lies, curses, and other assorted unpleasant but necessary bureaucratic works into the tiled streets of the harbor. Its denizens run for cover.
"Welcome to hell!" a bright eyed young twenty something said as he walked over with a parchment in one hand and a pen in the other, with a tough looking robe to shield himself from the deluge. "Do you have your passes?" A large goat went aboard my ship to grab my luggage. I concluded my business with the docking official as quickly as possible before I ran towards a trattoria where a vagrant and a priest was discussing the exact price of human kidneys. The rain of law had left me with a malformed constitution in my boots that I had to shake off, but nobody uttered a word. It was, after all, fashionable in hell to have disrespect for the law.
Day 8
The buildings and streets in Hell have been carved out of a bone like material, and decorated with blood red bricks. Not actual bones, I'm told. Perhaps these bones are what is left when a law is broken, and the Impostor Priests simply took them to build their new great experiment due to the abundance of the material.
Waking up today caused me great annoyance, as some hooligan had seen fit to vandalize all reflective surfaces in the city. This caused great concern among the denizens of Hell, for they had trouble remembering their own faces.
I myself could not resist investigating my own face with my fingertips, and quickly discounted the notion that I looked like a hippopotamus or Tai's brass balls. Nobody was running from me, so I also discounted the more strange possibilities.
Then again, the locals seemed much more interested in exploring what they themselves looked like. The vanity of some people are beyond belief.
Day 12
Streets were filled with some kind of ash and coal-like substance today, which caused great amount of displeasure to the ones walking upon the streets. I mention this only because I was forced to spend some time observing the local streets while hiding from a group of tradesmen who had, last night, formed something between a sporting team and a mad and apocalyptic death cult.
A woman shrieked as she flew by me at that moment, accidentally having jumped too high in the day that the Impostor Parliament denounced gravity as being too tyrannical and thus saw fit to scale back its influence upon Hell until an exact and better substitute could be found. I wished her all the good luck in her flight as she tumbled through the air towards the tower at the center of the town.
Day 10
Linear time has been deemed tyrannical, and thus today is two days ago.
Day 11
Revolutionary and inflammatory literature covered the walls, the streets, the skies, coins, statues, and our daily bread today. The Impostor Parliament apparently have read all of these literature, and thus have seen fit to raise awareness for increased literacy among its citizens--by literally pasting words onto every available surface that they can affect in the city.
I quickly found myself alone in the city, as every rat, henchmen, and orphans in the city retired to their rooms to read through the literature the city itself had disgorged upon the streets. Next few days were not uncomfortable, however, as I had not forgotten yet to dress myself.
A young lady down the street forgot how to tie her shoelaces and thus required the service of a physician. I offered my sympathies towards her while I attempted to find my errant underlings.
Day 20:
The Republic of Hell always has fountains in most prominent of places, such as in this civic forum. It sprouts something that is not completely unresembling of water, despite its purple coloration. Everytime it splashed, I would hear snide and sarcastic comments. "Oh yes, that hat suits you perfectly well." "Yes, you have achieved all that you can in your life" "No you've no concern with your weight."
My rats found the place charming but I had serious difficulty agreeing with them at the moment.
Day 34: A large executioner wearing a black hood and a large axe sought me out today and handed me a noose. He said I was the Republic's chief judge for the day.
Being a chief judge in Hell was truly an impossible task. Laws changed faster than I could read them. Trio of devils wearing some kind of fur hats relieved me of my post soon and told me that malefactors were lining up, and that I should've just sent the lot for abstraction.
Day 27
At the center of the city is the Market of Hunger, apparently carved as a joke to a certain place in the Empire to the east. It is, additionally, one of the most stable areas in the Republic. I believe the locals just appreciated the joke for some reason too much to let it suffer the worst of the inconsistancies of Hell.
Choice of day to visit the market was unfortunate, as today was the day when financial transaction became beautiful. Half of the market stood still and gaped in awe as a man bought a copper paperweight. They cried when the transaction was finished, and the market erupted into transactions. I could not stop myself from weeping with joy as I saw two impostor priests buy new silk for their robes.
Day 45
Despite all this suffering, despite all this deaths, despite all these horrors inflicted by the whims of mankind, the Republic of Hell grows ever stronger. Why? Do people desire this kind of freedom so much that they are willing to risk all?
The great experiment continues still. The Impostor Parliament still seeks the perfection that shall guide our lives. Perhaps it is impossible to find. Perhaps this eternal state of change is the perfection that the Impostors always sought.
Day 50
A gaggle of metal winged gulls, imps, and blood-drinking shadows demanded reparations for snuffing out their lamps. I, of course, dashed for the nearest open door.
I have now been here long enough to know that danger in this Republic is mostly limited to the politically incompetent and the slow-witted. Avoid angering the mobs or the Committee, and life here is mostly bearable. Even for those who cannot bear it any longer, the option of escaping into the Library or the Museum, where the realm is much more stable, exists. Lesser horrors must be endured, of course, but such was the nature of change, and they passed quickly. I wondered aloud why the Impostors deemed such an experiment as Hell necessary. He told me that the Curator will not be around forever, and that they must experiment while they can.
Day Censored
This passage has been censored.
Censored
This passage has been censored.
Day 68, but who's counting anymore?
Even the women in the work crew was surprised to discover a collection of revolutionary literature under the street excavations. Who felt the need to bury books in a city devoid of censorship? Custodians arrived with an annoyed expression in their face to recover the books for the Great Library.
Day it's too loud in here
It was too loud in the city. The roar of steam in the distance. The partying music from down the hall. The boiling of my own drink as they were squeezed out of the teats of large maggots. The laughter of the chattering humans and imps all around me. I could not bear it any longer, and I wished for all too just simply shut up for an instance.
In that moment, the city fell to silence. Nobody made a sound. Nobody and nothing was capable of making a sound. People continued their conversation in silent speech and sign language that they suddenly found themselves fluent in. Volcanic vents were muffled, and I found myself at peace.
But the moment passes quickly, and the city is back to normal, responding to the desires of its denizens according to the guidance of the Impostor Parliament. A moment of silence or two in a day, after all, is not bad.
Day 1
Hidden in some forgotten place at the borderlands of dreams and our world, the Impostor Church is hard at work creating a new world based on their visions, with the help of certain gods sympathetic to their goals. Clouds overhead burn brightly over the harbor as the ship sails to dock at its harbor. Ropes come to life like snakes and sailors beat them to death with an oar. The sky opens up and disgorge new set of experimental laws, lies, curses, and other assorted unpleasant but necessary bureaucratic works into the tiled streets of the harbor. Its denizens run for cover.
"Welcome to hell!" a bright eyed young twenty something said as he walked over with a parchment in one hand and a pen in the other, with a tough looking robe to shield himself from the deluge. "Do you have your passes?" A large goat went aboard my ship to grab my luggage. I concluded my business with the docking official as quickly as possible before I ran towards a trattoria where a vagrant and a priest was discussing the exact price of human kidneys. The rain of law had left me with a malformed constitution in my boots that I had to shake off, but nobody uttered a word. It was, after all, fashionable in hell to have disrespect for the law.
Day 8
The buildings and streets in Hell have been carved out of a bone like material, and decorated with blood red bricks. Not actual bones, I'm told. Perhaps these bones are what is left when a law is broken, and the Impostor Priests simply took them to build their new great experiment due to the abundance of the material.
Waking up today caused me great annoyance, as some hooligan had seen fit to vandalize all reflective surfaces in the city. This caused great concern among the denizens of Hell, for they had trouble remembering their own faces.
I myself could not resist investigating my own face with my fingertips, and quickly discounted the notion that I looked like a hippopotamus or Tai's brass balls. Nobody was running from me, so I also discounted the more strange possibilities.
Then again, the locals seemed much more interested in exploring what they themselves looked like. The vanity of some people are beyond belief.
Day 12
Streets were filled with some kind of ash and coal-like substance today, which caused great amount of displeasure to the ones walking upon the streets. I mention this only because I was forced to spend some time observing the local streets while hiding from a group of tradesmen who had, last night, formed something between a sporting team and a mad and apocalyptic death cult.
A woman shrieked as she flew by me at that moment, accidentally having jumped too high in the day that the Impostor Parliament denounced gravity as being too tyrannical and thus saw fit to scale back its influence upon Hell until an exact and better substitute could be found. I wished her all the good luck in her flight as she tumbled through the air towards the tower at the center of the town.
Day 10
Linear time has been deemed tyrannical, and thus today is two days ago.
Day 11
Revolutionary and inflammatory literature covered the walls, the streets, the skies, coins, statues, and our daily bread today. The Impostor Parliament apparently have read all of these literature, and thus have seen fit to raise awareness for increased literacy among its citizens--by literally pasting words onto every available surface that they can affect in the city.
I quickly found myself alone in the city, as every rat, henchmen, and orphans in the city retired to their rooms to read through the literature the city itself had disgorged upon the streets. Next few days were not uncomfortable, however, as I had not forgotten yet to dress myself.
A young lady down the street forgot how to tie her shoelaces and thus required the service of a physician. I offered my sympathies towards her while I attempted to find my errant underlings.
Day 20:
The Republic of Hell always has fountains in most prominent of places, such as in this civic forum. It sprouts something that is not completely unresembling of water, despite its purple coloration. Everytime it splashed, I would hear snide and sarcastic comments. "Oh yes, that hat suits you perfectly well." "Yes, you have achieved all that you can in your life" "No you've no concern with your weight."
My rats found the place charming but I had serious difficulty agreeing with them at the moment.
Day 34: A large executioner wearing a black hood and a large axe sought me out today and handed me a noose. He said I was the Republic's chief judge for the day.
Being a chief judge in Hell was truly an impossible task. Laws changed faster than I could read them. Trio of devils wearing some kind of fur hats relieved me of my post soon and told me that malefactors were lining up, and that I should've just sent the lot for abstraction.
Day 27
At the center of the city is the Market of Hunger, apparently carved as a joke to a certain place in the Empire to the east. It is, additionally, one of the most stable areas in the Republic. I believe the locals just appreciated the joke for some reason too much to let it suffer the worst of the inconsistancies of Hell.
Choice of day to visit the market was unfortunate, as today was the day when financial transaction became beautiful. Half of the market stood still and gaped in awe as a man bought a copper paperweight. They cried when the transaction was finished, and the market erupted into transactions. I could not stop myself from weeping with joy as I saw two impostor priests buy new silk for their robes.
Day 45
Despite all this suffering, despite all this deaths, despite all these horrors inflicted by the whims of mankind, the Republic of Hell grows ever stronger. Why? Do people desire this kind of freedom so much that they are willing to risk all?
The great experiment continues still. The Impostor Parliament still seeks the perfection that shall guide our lives. Perhaps it is impossible to find. Perhaps this eternal state of change is the perfection that the Impostors always sought.
Day 50
A gaggle of metal winged gulls, imps, and blood-drinking shadows demanded reparations for snuffing out their lamps. I, of course, dashed for the nearest open door.
I have now been here long enough to know that danger in this Republic is mostly limited to the politically incompetent and the slow-witted. Avoid angering the mobs or the Committee, and life here is mostly bearable. Even for those who cannot bear it any longer, the option of escaping into the Library or the Museum, where the realm is much more stable, exists. Lesser horrors must be endured, of course, but such was the nature of change, and they passed quickly. I wondered aloud why the Impostors deemed such an experiment as Hell necessary. He told me that the Curator will not be around forever, and that they must experiment while they can.
Day Censored
This passage has been censored.
Censored
This passage has been censored.
Day 68, but who's counting anymore?
Even the women in the work crew was surprised to discover a collection of revolutionary literature under the street excavations. Who felt the need to bury books in a city devoid of censorship? Custodians arrived with an annoyed expression in their face to recover the books for the Great Library.
Day it's too loud in here
It was too loud in the city. The roar of steam in the distance. The partying music from down the hall. The boiling of my own drink as they were squeezed out of the teats of large maggots. The laughter of the chattering humans and imps all around me. I could not bear it any longer, and I wished for all too just simply shut up for an instance.
In that moment, the city fell to silence. Nobody made a sound. Nobody and nothing was capable of making a sound. People continued their conversation in silent speech and sign language that they suddenly found themselves fluent in. Volcanic vents were muffled, and I found myself at peace.
But the moment passes quickly, and the city is back to normal, responding to the desires of its denizens according to the guidance of the Impostor Parliament. A moment of silence or two in a day, after all, is not bad.
.
