#summer 9

[idklol69the2nd]

Here is my absolute insane pitch for this years summer

[falisma275]

I don't post a lot but at that point I basically malfunctioned because it was late and all the stress was piling up on me but I still stand by what I said. Because there's a difference between a healthy dose of criticism and blatantly ignoring everything before hand because someone's cluelessness does not equal the entirety of what they are trying to communicate. But what makes this whole situation particularly annoying is the fact the consistent lesson of Nasu Summers is not devolving yourself completely into environment or vocation lifestyle and be aware you must move on and the people this lifestyle effects. So when someone goes and says, Nasu is going to just leave at "this is a fun place" or "look at him only publicizing this area" and just go, "...have we been reading the same stuff?" 

[fragments-of-this]

She was much his elder, a deity from the beginning of civilization. Empires have been raised, glowing and rife with potential, to be inevitably torn to rubble, wrought with havoc and destruction. All this, all the beauty and ugliness of the world, passed before her unblinking and uninterested eyes. She watched impartially, caring naught for the affairs of mortals, despite her meticulous watching and recording of their history. 

Constant through the ages were those who sought a higher purpose. This purpose was often titled religion, sometimes custom, commonly morality, and occasionally love. She did not have a sense of humor, and saw the trivialities of humans particularly grating, but she did enjoy being entertained. When a man or woman was particularly devoted to his or her love (or faith or custom, or morality), she would lift the veil from their eyes, and allow them a glimpse at herself. They would ask her, “Are you my love (or my worshipped, or my tradition, or the Good)?” and she would answer “Yes” because she was, of course, every one of those things, and more besides. 

Some attempted to bargain with her, some wanted to worship her, and some merely asked her questions. Each one failed in their endeavors, but each was entertaining in their particularities. She was well-pleased with her observation, and with her recordings.

Once, a young man made a demonstration, in the mortal world, of his love for her (whom he had named Ishtar). As was her custom, she lifted the veil from his eyes and allowed him to see a fraction of her power–more than enough to dazzle him beyond reason. 

He fell to his knees, in a position of supplication, and she turned one of her many eyes towards him. In deference he whispered, “This place, in your gaze, is the most powerful, most blessed, most important place in the world, oh goddess.” Her look lasted but a moment more, and she chocked his statement up to mortal ignorance.

Has he stood in the Ruins of Dephi and seen the rest of the world stretch out under him? Has he seen day break over the highest mountain in mortal land? Has he witnessed the birth of a child or the death of its elders? 

She resumed her watch, eyes unblinking and uninterested.