Random comment, false article.

As of now I believe that I will cease to upload portions of Banquet of Tremors. As I believe that I have put up the necessary teasers and have gained enough likes to deem that it isn’t complete horseshit. 😉

For now the blog shall remain inactive for a time until I think up of some new idea to spew forth.

Thank you for following EyeOfThoth and hopefully I will create more content for you all in the oncoming months.


May your minds remain sharp and your wit even sharper!



The morn is filled with fire

Where do I find the ire?

Why from the land beneath where lava does flow


I, son of the dark doomed to the world of light

Yet here does the feeble Will strike in fright

Cursed and yet loved by the being: Blight


Vast are the corridors of might

hidden by Gods in their eternal fight

But still I, a mortal stuck neither here nor there, lo do I lack a foe?

Out of the Impyard, into the Jester cave

“While we are within L’Mura, it is best that you do not even mention you were once a part of Prospertum”, said Jester grimly, “albeit most of L’Mura’s mortals have died off to old age, there are those who still remember the stories that their great, great, grandparents told them”.
Eli took a deep breath and steadied himself knowing full well his question could land him in great trouble.

“If L’Mura believes in the carnal reinforced by the technological, then why does Meren and Kelendis not grant their citizens… immortality?”, he trailed off hesitantly not wishing to speak further.

Jester gazed at him for a moment, his deep emerald green eyes twinkling in the fire light. After a rather uncomfortable moment for Eli he spoke:

“L’Murians believe that that which is canal must die. For to extend a life span is to cheat the Astrale”, Jester told him as a father would address a naive child.

“Astrale?”, Eli asked.

Jester raised an eyebrow at him quizzically and then continued:

“The Astrale is the Void as we know it. As we have learned in our constant pursuit of science, electrons are capable of being in two places at once when not harshly scrutinized”, he paused once more, searching for Eli’s reaction. Jester obviously realized that Eli had none forthcoming and so he sighed.

“The point I wish to make is that the Void, or rather Astrale, as some like to call it; has a built in way of disallowing direct observation. Even the Gods themselves can not crack all Astrale inconsistencies as they too, have biological functions under their divinity. Albeit it is possible for say”, Jester snorted and spat, “… Achladus to pry into the Astrale plan and use it in his experiments, he can never fully harness it. Think of it as a sub-source code within a super computer with excessive algorithm encryption. Just as a scientist who designs a great machine, the being who made all of this possible… would hate to see it hacked”.

Mesmerized as he was by the information that he was getting from Jester, Eli didn’t notice his mouth was hanging open for a solid minute. He was so in awe that he didn’t notice that a fly had taken up residence on his upper lip. Eli spat and shook himself.

“Yes, yes, but what does the Astrale… err Void”, he changed his word choice as he saw Jester’s complexion change at his ‘Astrale’ word usage, “… have to do with disallowing immortality on L’Muran citizenry?”

Jester looked away from Eli and gazed into the primitive fire he had created in his cave. After a few moments he seemingly absently replied with:


“What?”, came Eli’s automatic question.

Still peering into the flame’s licking tongue which cackled and popped in front of them encased in a rock cluster, Jester muttered:

“To artificially extend one’s life is to cheat the Void. When one does that there are bad consequences. To return to the Void after life is natural, to avoid it is unnatural. Nature and the universe always finds ways to balance…”, he trailed off still gazing into the flames, “I’m sure read about the Blackened back in Prospertum?”

Eli felt a knot develop in his stomach as he remembered the Historical passage he had had read as a child.

“Yes…”, he croaked.

“The Blackened are a fine example of what happens to biological entities who cheat death in our physical plane of existence. Sure they gained powers nearing demigods, but at a price…”, Jester immediately looked up Eli, the ire of the fire reflecting in his eyes:

“Their mortality”.

Eli gulped and then shuddered, he knew all too well what Jester meant by “mortality”.

“Decayed black rotting corpses”, he whispered.

“Indeed”, Jester agreed in a grim tone.

Even though Eli had just met this weirdo, who seemed rather mad, he also sounded insightful. It made no sense at all and the inconsistency of his madness threw him off. Did the Void (or rather Astrale) exist? Or was Jester delusional and messing around with him? He once more gave Jester a stare, trying to deduce what was going on within that most strange mind.

Jester evidently was done with the exchange as he smiled and turned around to start working on a clay mold. Where the clay had come from Eli couldn’t phantom as he looked at Jester through the fire. What it represented completely eluded Eli as he couldn’t comprehend it. It was some sort of blob which sprouted several appendages. These appendages varied in size and seemed to lack an purpose. Eli spoke:

“What is that Jester?”

“If I told you it would defeat the purpose of the art.”


“The expression of the soul”

“Why not just use some technology? Say a particle re-assembler?”, Eli asked innocently.

The sudden rage that accompanied his question was enormous and unexpected. Without warning Jester took the clay sculpture in one hand, and with the other, smashed his fist into it. Jester’s face flushed a deep scarlet and looked as if he might explode.

“Why don’t you just become a Mirrorer? Why not simply become a sheep? Why be sane when you can be mad?!”, he bellowed at Eli, the force of his voice amplified and godlike.

This outburst shocked Eli to the core and he froze in place, still sitting cross-legged in front of Jester’s looming face that hovered inches from the fire. He felt as if Jester had become a dragon and could breathe fire. He gawked in shock.

“Well?! What do you have to say for yourself… you… you scientist!”, Jester snarled at him, rage still evident in his voice.

Eli tried hard to think of what on Tsarsara Jester meant by that statement.

“I was just stating a more effective method…”, he said his voice giving out with a croak.

Jester took a deep breath and was evidently was steadying himself. After a brief while, he visibly calmed down and the serenity that was once evident in his eyes returned.

“… I had forgotten that you come from Prospertum…”, there was a slight tinge to his eyes, like a tear, “Let me explain it to you Eli. Art is the expression of the soul. It’s where logic begins and creativity ends, however I am sure that no one knows this. The artist claims the irrational while simultaneously hiding meaningful reason”, Jester grinned sardonically.

“That makes no sense”, said Eli timidly scared of another outburst.

“Says the man who practices binary”.

“Stop speaking in riddles”.

“Stop breathing”.

“That’s impossible”.

“Exactly”, grinned Jester.

He lowered his gaze and looked at his clay encased hand. It was as if he had had some sort of reality disconnect.

“Well… that’s wonderful”, Jester’s voice trailed off, “I was going to shoot it when it was done”.

Eli cocked his head back, what on earth what this individual talking about?

Where is the wonder and awe? (English paper satire)

This article is not so much based upon logic as it is on observing my environment and applying abstract thinking. I recently finished the novel “The picture of Dorian Grey” by Oscar Wilde (for lo, the great heretic of the 19th century literature!) and it struck a cord within my psyche.

To explain simply, the concept of the novel is immortality without the fall backs of the effects of vice (eg. those who excessively drink develop leathery skin, those who smoke excessively large amounts of marijuana develop a spacey demeanor, etc.). Dorian Grey, a strapping young lad, is presented to Lord Henry who is friends with a poor artist under the name of Basil.

As with all great artists (Basil), they love the archetypes and the illogical more often than not. This is not to say that they lack the ability to apply logic and reason, but rather they believe such a method of life is rather dull and lacking in superstition (emotional validation). To emphasize, regardless of your spirituality and method of worship (yes, even you atheists worship something: science. Worship here meaning paying homage to and applying yourself through it’s guidelines). This is where philosophy and religion intersect and the coin becomes two sided, ours is a reality of extremes and dualism, thus to deny any side on basis of a “wrong” or “right” nature is rather black and white thinking and limiting.

Oh the extremes that humanity seems to find itself in at junctures in time, and the irony arises where the zealots (Social Justice Warriors) claim moral superiority and the moral relativists (pseudo-intellectuals) claim intellectual superiority. It isn’t that simple. As with most Left hand path philosophies, sometimes things DON’T have to make complete and utter logical sense; Or even feeling sense. Sometimes the ‘right’ is ‘wrong’ and the ‘wrong’ is ‘right’, or hell even ‘right’ can be ‘maybe’ (relativism). However also one can take a limited binary true/false method to understanding but once again it is a limited vehicle as it ignores the duality of man. Note my obvious almost black-white tendency here, which I believe due to cultural influence and my Christian background growing up, makes me susceptible to falling into such faulty reasoning. We can not ignore our biological imperatives of tribalism, conformity, and desire to ego-preserve.

Moving on to the novel itself “The Picture of Dorian Grey”, Wilde does an amazing job of unearthing the mechanical nature of the 19th century in that it “knows the price of everything, but the value of nothing”. Many humans logically know what something is worth, but fewer still emotionally know what makes it valuable within itself (intrinsic). For he wished to add a Dionysian element back to society which he deems to be lacking, if much can be gleaned from Lord Henry’s character. For that is what Lord Henry represents, a bitter reasoner who has snapped. For him youth and beauty are the ideals and that modern man is deluded into thinking a knowledgeable account of “if this, then this, therefore this” is sufficient to explain the human condition. He has jumped from logic to emotion it seems, then again I am speculating as this article is more a brainstorm more-so than a deductive argument.

Of course heresy! How dare he attack the modern narrative of the science! Of materialism! Of the exploitation of suppressed desires! Woe are we! For indeed we need the irrational and the Wilde! For all that it has brought us, it has also taken away.

This brings me to the point that I want to discuss: the irrational initiation rites of the human being. What is the point of schooling institutions and such, if they deny any form of cultural emotional initiation? Where is the imagery which makes us happy and connected? Where is wonder and the awe? We dress up like puppets and march from point A to point B and are told that we are “adults” on a logical level, however we are not given that rite that sparks the wonder of being ‘adult’. Something as simple as dosing a man into a basin of water for symbolic cleansing is massive, what do we get? A paper and some bullshit processed propaganda of what ‘ought to be’ speech, please. Although I agree that we live in a world obsessed with Globalization (which quite honestly goes against the humans desire for tribal association) but it is being approached from a logical perspective rather than an emotional level.

It is within my speculation that the systematic unhealthy destruction between relationships within motion pictures as well as the false superficial ‘bro cult’ are a pathetic excuse to apply some sort of divide-conquer tactic that plays upon emotional desire (that of competitiveness, and fighting, and false community where we all act like “machos” and put one another down for being human). I am not opposed to locker-room banter between males, in fact I embrace it, but I still despise bro culture as it’s image based opposed to bonding based; and this superficial logical (pretending to be emotional) imagery helps the system delude the human spirit. Without a spirit a horse is broken, what of man? Where is the true emotional ties? We are a culture of logical emotion, where association seems to be more of image than actual understanding.
Logic will only get you so far in creativity and thought, it is a limited system and the ancients knew this. The Dark ages was a representation of the rejection of logic in favor of emotions, while our modern era is the rejection of emotion for logic. Hilarious really, when you think about it. Such it was with Dorian Grey as he tried to rationalize his shitty amoral behavior and ignore the ugliness of his soul, falsely assuming he could apply reason to suppress his emotions.

I paraphrase Dorian’s comments within the book:

“Oh I only wish to gaze upon the beauty!” -Ignores his prowling of opium dens and the likes, ignores the fact of that which he does is rather not beautiful, why not say “Oh I wish to gaze upon beauty and ugliness! For therein lies understanding!”
“I can rationalize away the murder of Basil!” – Kills Basil for calling him wicked, even though he loves the man greatly. In his desire to ignore logic he regressed into animalistic emotions (you defy me? DIE!).
“I can rationalize my artistic objectification of Sybil! For now since she no longer acts well I have lost the ability to love the concept of love!” -He loved the idea of her, not her.



Comment: Now that I have looked at the article I wrote completely on the fly last night I have realized the following. This article is pure sarcasm and a mockery of the English discipline in it’s modern format. What if the arts in the current mode of the world is a series of intellectual shit tests deemed to find out who is stupid enough to embrace the inconsistencies and those who aren’t? Interesting…

Cultural Marxism, the subversion of the good for evil ends.

To start off this rant I would like to say that Karl Marx was indeed a great visionary and well educated. His assumption in the “Communist Manifesto” was that all societal conflict arose from class struggle. As all of you I am sure are familiar with the topic of “Marxism”, and how it sounds good on paper, I will not further gauge the topic. The issue with ideology and fanaticism is that it is completely make-belief and forced into a boxed space. Appealing to nature dynamics and animals is generally considered a fallacy, but let us assume that in this case that it is indeed valid since it IS what is being argued. Sadly biology always wins in the long run, hence revolutions throughout history and the discovery of the scientific method after the dark ages (regardless of the violent backlash). Behind every great blasphemy is progress, and behind every heretic is a man who thinks outside his box.
In every animal pack or herd there naturally arise individuals who are more capable to lead. There are various paths to leadership but most can agree that many of the forms of leadership strategy stem from immorality, manipulation, and exploitation of others. This makes Marxism a perfect manipulation system, since a government can claim universal good and subsequently do evil on others for their own agendas. For an example for the appeal to the e̶v̶i̶l̶ good, we may look at the Catholic church’s immoral tithe system which was introduced in the medieval ages. This tithe system allowed people to pay away their sins and affect loved ones trapped in supposed purgatory. Of course what eventually happened was the Reformation via Martin Luther in his “The ninety-five theses”, where he attacked corrupt Catholic practices.

Religion aside however, it was simply an example to add merit to my claim. The point being that if you allow an institution to actively dictate to you what is or what is not without restraint, tyranny springs into being. Ignorance and herd mentality leads to extreme censorship and allows for “evil” to flourish. The beauty of free thought is that it leads to free speech, and free speech leads to innovations. A society that shouts down dissent of any kind is not a free society. But political correctness and mindlessly going along aside, the issue I would like to bring up is that Marxism has historically proven to be a sinister evil that must be blotted out before it gains traction; because in reality it is simply a groupthink mobile which forces others into rigid thought patterns. Just as Hitler claimed that he would inevitably stop his advances in Europe, so does Marxism claim to know boundaries. I know that some of you may be thinking, “he just contradicted himself! He just said we need free speech and yet here he is dismissing Marxism!”, but please read on and it will make more sense (hopefully). Also the fact that I am philosophically addressing this issue and not just repeating “drugs are bad mmkay” makes it free speech.

By now I am sure all of you are aware of the political dishonesty that takes place everywhere in the world. I am not going to bother to cite examples at this point because it smells so bad, and anyone with a logical mind can see the bullshit for what it is. As shown with Mao and Stalin, Marxism is simply a vehicle that can be hijacked at any point in time by evil individuals to further their own ends. Simply put, Marxism becomes a cult of personality where the narcissistic person is exalted to godhood much to the degradation of the masses. The forced labor of supposed anti-Communist members during the purges was simply manipulation on a wide scale. The death about one million Chinese in the Korean war (1950-53) for “Communism”, speaks volumes. The Collective overtakes the Individual so utterly in Marxism that the society becomes a circle jerk of one-man/one-party rule. The biggest irony is that through supposed proletariat rule, the proles are enslaved further. At least with monarchy, socialism, democracy, etc, the system is some what honest with the individual.

In Monarchy: “I am the king by virtue of conquest, hereditary, or cunning, thus you must obey and die for me or I will kill you or enslave you! You are serf scum and obey your lords/betters.”

In Socialism: “We are the government and a society that believes in safety nets for those less fortunate, thus work hard and do the best you can and you know what? We will take care of you as long as you support our rule!”

In Democracy: “We are the government of the masses and believe that happiness for the largest number of people is the proper method of government! If you do not like something then organize and preform a debate in order to sway public opinion in order to change said issue. If you are civil and well behaved we will take care of you!”

Now let us address Marxism:
“We are a workers government made up of e̶n̶t̶i̶t̶l̶e̶d̶  proletariat who want the best for u̶s̶ you. If you disagree with our unions and methods then you are corrupt and evil bourgeois meaning to buck the system. If you disagree with us, you must be Capitalist scum who want to see the proletariat enslaved once more! The greatest good for all means you must agree with us on all issues, if you do not, then you must be k̶i̶l̶l̶e̶d̶  educated”

Marxism is simply too great of a risk to be ever taken seriously, and what scares me is that many people seem to see Cultural Marxism as some sort of savior. It isn’t. It’s a wolf in sheepskin. It’s an illusion that is propped up by those who are of highest Machiavel. Ever notice how cult members always seem to appeal to “everyone’s well being?”. I avoid these individuals like the plague and if you are sane and not “evil” you should do the same.

I may pick up this issue on a later date and add more relevant historical examples of Marxist doublethink. I just really needed to write something down on this blog since I have been rather sick and busy lately.


The definition of evil according to my perspective:
Needless destruction, ignorance, laziness, excessive greed, corruption, and compulsive lying. Of course liars deserve only lies (which is different from compulsive lying), but that is a rant for another day.

Symbolism, more to come regarding Historical study.

As with history, we all experience our own classical age, dark ages and enlightenment. Since History is a cyclical endeavor in which human nature is displayed on overdrive and on a macro-level, so is the human being (on a micro-level). I believe that my dark ages have come to an end and I have entered into the Renaissance, or more specifically the rediscovery of the ‘classics’. These classics are the embodiment of the creative person I was before I was damaged by the primal humans in high school and University, and the groupthink that accompanied them.

I for one shall no longer be chained by what is popular, trending, or what “ought” to be. I shall research all topics before I make a comment hence forth, and attempt to make decisions based upon what “is” rather than what “should”.

The Roman god of Lucifer has figuratively risen from the ashes, much to the fear of those on lower levels of cognitive thought.

Mors Principum Est!

Banquet of Tremors, massive passage.

Jester then grabbed him by the hand, much to Eli’s surprise, and led him into the audience hall. The sights that assailed Eli’s senses were overbearing. Hanging from crystal chandeliers were faerie-like girls who sparkling and danced, wings outstretched. The walls were covered with vines and roses of the most random of colors: red, blue, purple, brown, and even pink. As for the ground it was a series of inter-crossed rugs with depictions of various battles, artistic murals, and technological advancements.

Furthermore there were tables everywhere, sprawled out in completely random patterns. Some were pushed into the corners while others were right smack in the middle of the hall. The whole place looked like a myriad of chaotic jungle, where no rules or standards were followed. The majority of the crowd were humans, but there was also a wide minority of Nymphs, faeries, and advanced cyborgs posing as other life forms.

The activities that went on lacked any purpose and ranged across the disciplines. There was a group of Nymphs playing some sort of bubble dart game (where the bubbles would float in random directions and the player had to shoot them down) in the far back right corner. Whenever the dart tosser missed a bubble it would inevitably start to telepathically laugh hysterically as the dart embedded itself in one of the other Nymphs. Eli was confused at first, how can being impaled be fun? He thought to himself. His question was immediately answered when the most recent impaled Nymph took out the dart embedded in it’s torso and the wound closed immediately. Apparently the Nymphs had amazing regenerative powers, and no damage could prove fatal to them.

At another table a group of humans… or more specifically cyborgs posing as humans, were furiously typing out formula on a holographic 3D screen. Eli attempted to read what was going on on the screen, but quickly realized that it was way beyond his abilities.

“So are you going to gawk all night?”, asked Jester sarcastically, “Or are you going to follow me to the centre?”

“B-but why?”, asked Eli completely in a trance.

“To enjoy the festival more actively!”, shouted Jester, “Meren and Kelendis sit at the middle of the hall so that they can watch all of it!”

Jester didn’t wait for a response and grabbed Eli’s face and shook it without warning.

“STOP THAT!”, shouted Eli angrily, “What on Tsarsara was that for?!”

“Reality check”, explained Jester, “The Banquet can make you lose track of time, which is kinda the point really!”, Jester added a mischievous grin, “So follow me young one to Kelendis and Meren!”

I guess he is right, thought Eli, but what is the point of this place?

Oh you will learn soon enough, came a familiar voice inside of his head, just follow Jester, he’s a little nuts but he is completely aware of it.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD! Eli telepathically replied to the speaker.

That is like telling Prospertum to stop trying to destroy Gaia’s Rise or brainwashing it’s Hive, came back the reply.

It was then that Eli realized he was speaking to the ArchNymph Ilen.

Ugh I’ll never get used to you Nymphs, thought Eli back.

And we will never understand what a mouth is, what an ineffective way to speak and eat, came Ilen’s reply.

All of this telepathic think-talking took place over the span of three seconds, three seconds too long according to Jester. He once again grabbed Eli’s head and shook it.

“What are you on Eli? Did you smoke something when I wasn’t looking earlier today?”, he asked with concern in his eyes.

“Oh… Ilen was talking to me”, Eli said absent mindedly.

Jester snorted, “We all know that Nymphs don’t talk Eli”, he winked at him and took a step back spreading out his arms in resignation.

“You can hear them Jester?”

“Well DUH! I can hear them but no one else can, well except you, Meren, and Kelendis… and I guess the Nymphs themselves. It would be best if you didn’t tell anyone else about it”.

With that Jester grabbed Eli by the arm and forced him to follow him into the fray that was the banquet. Even though there were large volumes of bodies moving chaotically back and forth, somehow Jester navigated them through the crowd with no collisions. The colors that Eli saw while walking through the crowd were multi-faceted and disorienting, it really was like he was on a drug.

Eventually he and Jester made it to the center of the chamber. Sitting proud at the circular table was Meren, and at his side the fair and yet odd Kelendis. Meren’s short grey hair clung to his scalp and placed upon his brow was a crown of birch twigs. His cloak was a deep green which covered his body completely. He wore his signature black glove on his right hand, an emerald stud just over his pointer finger. His sharp face was stoic in expression and his eyes were fixed upon a display of cyborg humans arm wrestling sitting a table over.

As for Kelendis, her white-blond hair was up in a bun with a pair of sticks lodged within the bun. Her eyes were fixated upon the ceiling where several faeries were playing keep away from a rather flustered younger boy faerie. Kelendis wore a pitch black tight dress, that accented her figure, with stars etched in. Her eyes shone a deep emerald green and her lips were parted in a lovely smile. It was her who quickly looked down and noticed Eli and Jester, she quickly nudged Meren.

Meren ignored the initial nudge and so Kelendis leaned in and gave Meren’s ear a quick nibble. That got Meren’s attention immediately and he took his eyes off of the two cyborgs. He looked quizzically at Kelendis with a raised eyebrow. Kelendis giggled and then pointed at Jester and Eli smiling a deep half crescent. Meren turned to look directly at Eli, a wilful piercing gaze that made Eli feel very small. Then without warning Meren stood up and raised one of his muscular arms. The whole assembly immediately stopped making noise and Meren spoke:

“Every year on Hallow’s eve we here in L’Mura preform a great artistic dancing ritual. Humans are not simply machines meant to be used and discarded once they lack value”, Meren made a pause and looked at Eli beaming at him benevolently, he continued, “In Prospertum Zanara and Achladus inspired hatred and fear in order to get others to create for them. But no! Not here in L’Mura, we choose the Individualistic path over the Collective-Hive path”, once again he paused and looked lovingly at Kelendis, for a moment Eli thought he saw a single tear forming in his left eye, Meren shook himself and looked back at the hall, “This night is for all of you! Welcome to the Banquet of Tremors!”

Banquet of Tremors – Gaia’s parting song

Of the Twins there was always one

One of higher mind and the other of spirit

But because of Pride and Arrogance

The twins shall apart: be broken

Stars of the Ocean above will rejoice when serpents fly

For the sun has peeked through the veil of deciet

But of that lost? Of that to be found? Of that to rise?

Beware the one that shines of coal and fright yet cries alight!

The Twins shall rise rise once more but the trail will open

For destruction is creation and the air is full of spores

Thus I decay over the centuries few…

So that you may live… Two?

Banquet of Tremors excerpt 3 (non edit)

Eli remembered all too well what had happened the last time he had left the pen open. As soon as the hound-mantis realized that there was an opening in the fence that held it in shackles it bolted. It immediately targeted a fellow scientist under the name of Krin and was about to tear out his throat when Eli had a bright idea. Well, not bright, but dark. Eli had quickly shut off the lights and the thing had gone immediately limp and confused, with a lack of light it was both immobilized and blind. Krin had been furious that Eli had made such a blunder, but he forgiven him after Eli proposed to give him all his chocolate rations for three months as an apology. The science behind what had made the thing go limp was never explained or investigated. This was due to the fact that if it was investigated in the first place, the experiment would’ve drawn the question of: why had the lights been turned off? Naturally Eli, Krin, and Seil would then have to explain what had happened in the lab which would prove disastrous. Eli would’ve been stripped of his title of geneticist and the council would’ve been furious.

“Yeah… you’re right sis” Eli responded, a sad expression written all over his face, “I will double check this time”.

“Triple check sounds more like it!” Seil snapped, “Krin could have been devoured by that… that… thing! Anyways, I will see you down in the lab in thirty”.

And with that Seil slipped down the stairs in the opposite direction from whence she had came, her brown hair flipping in the wind. Eli took a deep breath and looked out at the SERP1, which was unloading it’s military personnel, once more before turning in the direction Seil had come from and took a step.

Banquet of Tremors – excerpt 2 (non edit)

Eli frowned at this and asked blankly: “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of our whole assignment? Like I mean, shouldn’t our proposed idea of an everlasting food source be based off one organic being? If we include many we are simply reverting back to inefficient archaic methods of meat gathering?”

“Well to some extent I would propose” answered Krin through gritted teeth, “But than again it is possible to say that is still more efficient than forcing cattle to graze for months with hormonal therapy”.

“Just because you compare our innovations to more pathetic methods doesn’t mean that you’re making progress” Seil replied mechanically, “I want to make sure that the hound-mantis can properly reconstruct themselves after we scrape the meat off of them”.

“That… simply isn’t possible with the amount of data that we have gathered on bio-synthesis and genetic splicing”, replied Krin.

At this Seil looked from the laboratory with it’s wide assortment of test tubes, computer monitors, biological emulators, and then lowered her gaze upon Krin.

“Krin. . . that simply isn’t acceptable, I am looking forward to your constant vigilance and guidance”, She looked over at Eli, “Also remember Krin that Eli is also your tool in this regard and you need to help him to mold your current project”.

The obvious dislike that Seil flashed Krin’s way was completely evident to Eli but Krin didn’t seem to notice as he was gazing upon his note-tablet and furiously pressing upon it. It’s probably a good thing, thought Eli, Krin would probably lose himself and rage and say something stupid.

“Eli, would you please grab a vial and a pair of tongs?”, asked Krin, “And please be snappy about it we have to solve this problem, rather sooner than later”.

Eli nodded, quickly span around and went directly across from the table that both Krin and Seil were standing at and reached for a cupboard. The aged oak cupboard was smeared with chemical stains, as series of experiments gone haywire, and distinctly smelt of roses. Eli never understood why they smelt of roses, but then again half of the time he didn’t understand anything that happened in the lab. Seil and Krin led the more complicated experiments and any time he would ask them what was happening or how to properly execute the same methods, they would shrug or tell him that he wasn’t senior yet to learn more. He opened the cupboard through the twisting of a lever, all cupboards within this room held levers for safety reasons, grabbed a vial and was about to grab a pair of tongs when suddenly the door swung open with a deafening crash. Eli spun around and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Krin had done the same. A look of shock and curiosity sparked across their complexions.