---ZO'OR: FINAL CONFLICT---
a story on several instalments
all usual disclaimers apply
all non-EFC characthers (c)2001 IAO
this instalment is non rated
6
THE WATER OVER LOLA AS SHE BATHED
Enough, I already heard your rendition. In fact, I've been listening to your cries for quite some time. And I am not surprised to find that you are a liar. You lie to yourself about your past. Dreaming about altering your memory? Fixing those shameful bits? That's not going to do the trick for the Companions; better get used to the idea of never touching a Taelon.You were the one who bullied people around in school: your hands are sticky with rotten mango pulp. Your stepfather was a pig who turned your mother quite mad before dying after delivering you, bastard; he was not an owner of a bar, nor used to bend irons, he was a pitiful alcoholic. And little Frankie was your favorite amusement, he was lean and shy, and you were fat and loud, you laughed at him and abused of him because... you really liked him; but you couldn't show him love, you didn't know how to. ...yet you played doctor with him... and after that you wanted to marry him. But he rejected you, he always had an attraction for boys...
''I hate you. I hate you. Get off me.''
For being 'Martirio', that is, you hate yourself. But you don't 'hate me'. You are fascinated by me. That is why you are always following me. Spying on me. Your Perfect-Desire to experience me calls loud in my awareness.
''I don't believe in you, or in little voices; this is how I got to be aboard the Mothership: believing in me only.''
Common choice of philosophy for the likes of our kind, 'Martirio'... or should I call you 'W---'? Unfortunatelly, the race you have chosen to inhabit is too dense and physically complex--not forgeting it will sucumb to entropy--to acknowledge me as 'real'. Yet, your hard work and constant search had brought you to this starship as an individual, you have won the privilege to see 'the extraterrestrials' in order to believe in some of 'the supernatural', now that it has a logical explanation.
However, you made it to Earth long ago, your ship broke and started disintegrating upon touching Earth's atmosphere, you suffered a broken-core landing; you hunted humans in order to survive this ordeal--mixing your genes with those of the humans following the usual passion--killing your mates in the process: all men who have touch you as a female have died by your hand; all women who had carried your child have died after delivering it, and so you have pass on your memory blood cells to your offspring, you have been born many times, as it is the nature of our kind. Too bad it shows you need contact with our own, your genes have been so badly altered you have almost lost the ability to produce memory cells within your blood: you are becoming more human with each birth, so human you have almost forgotten the reason why you are here, on this obscure sector of the universe... ...surviving on subconscious memory schemes and dreams... you call 'fantasies'.
I was wondering, do you remember Ma'el?
''...''
Long ago you came to meet a weird stranger by chance, you thought about him to be a woman who pretended to pass around as a man. You followed her around and spyed on her, subconsciously wishing she was me. Your plans to seduce her were a deception, your approaches were frustrated by the stranger herself. You were a man then, so jealous about this stranger obssession with women. You used to wait for her keeping vigilant, always near the entrances to all those caves and catacombs were she used to hide to perform her secret magic ceremonies among many women. You hoped night after night for her, playing fantasies on your head about ripping her hooded cloak, and discover. You wanted to possess her, to plant yourelf in her body, as she was the best candidate to carry your heritage, W---, your heritage of passion... and murder. But, frustrated upon your failures, you decided to denounce her, and she dissapeared: Humanity have rendered you dumb. He he he he.
But now it looks like a promising story; you almost made it: naked under an alien shower and peeped upon. Talk to me about your fantasies with that unnamed Taelon in your brain, the dream about the big chair on which he comfortably seats before the bed where you lay tied; and he stands and approaches, plunges his lited body over yours, and it feels good the way how he melts within, slowly becoming one with you...
''...what am I saying? ...this is ridiculous...''
...
''...I think... Taelons are trying to drug their personnel...''
...
''...it feels something weird have been happening on this last duty shift, and its effects on my mind has gotten me... like... stoned: it's allucinating...''
Sure. You stepped in front of my probe today, you had brief communication with et. Et has transmited me about you--''a spy from the-other has temporaly taken residence on the starship, et is now possesing a human female body, et responds to the name of 'Marutirio'; it appears et has been dwelling on the planet Earth for quite some time, since et was unable to pick from my mind notice of my thoughts; et seems to have been contaminated with too much human DNA. Even if et doesn't know what was et really trying to do, herm agenda is clear at a subconscious human mental level, et cannot access it as a human but she is capable of following herm path to herm original goal''--. That goal is to reach me.
''...and why... is that I need to reach you...''
Because... don't you know who I am? The subjects of our kind couldn't miss my essence, why you? I guess humans are imperfect indeed: their inability to finally resolve their basic and small dilemas are the main reason why you hate them.
You ended up discovering humans are not alike us: even though our physical, animical and psychic realities are one, we are individuals, but not like humans--which mental and physical realities are separated, and their DNA could be an adquired progressive disease. It is not time for me to get you in within me, I am... not sure if I would like human additives within my essence. Sorry to tell you this, but you have not won: I don't think I'll touch you... for now. You can have all the Taelons you want, that is if you think yourself strong enough to bear the suffering after rediscovering the buried memories of your glory, W---. However, Taelons are not individuals. What do you believe you can attain by joining with a Taelon?
''...''
Of course, I don't care. That's supposed to be your thing after all. Yet, I do care about something:
Please, get clean.
Get clean.
Get clean.
Get clean.
******
******
******
Good? Bad? Fair?
Of course, I don't care: this is a labor of love, and I love to do it.
Soon: To be naked in Taelon.
a story on several instalments
all usual disclaimers apply
all non-EFC characthers (c)2001 IAO
this instalment is non rated
6
THE WATER OVER LOLA AS SHE BATHED
Enough, I already heard your rendition. In fact, I've been listening to your cries for quite some time. And I am not surprised to find that you are a liar. You lie to yourself about your past. Dreaming about altering your memory? Fixing those shameful bits? That's not going to do the trick for the Companions; better get used to the idea of never touching a Taelon.You were the one who bullied people around in school: your hands are sticky with rotten mango pulp. Your stepfather was a pig who turned your mother quite mad before dying after delivering you, bastard; he was not an owner of a bar, nor used to bend irons, he was a pitiful alcoholic. And little Frankie was your favorite amusement, he was lean and shy, and you were fat and loud, you laughed at him and abused of him because... you really liked him; but you couldn't show him love, you didn't know how to. ...yet you played doctor with him... and after that you wanted to marry him. But he rejected you, he always had an attraction for boys...
''I hate you. I hate you. Get off me.''
For being 'Martirio', that is, you hate yourself. But you don't 'hate me'. You are fascinated by me. That is why you are always following me. Spying on me. Your Perfect-Desire to experience me calls loud in my awareness.
''I don't believe in you, or in little voices; this is how I got to be aboard the Mothership: believing in me only.''
Common choice of philosophy for the likes of our kind, 'Martirio'... or should I call you 'W---'? Unfortunatelly, the race you have chosen to inhabit is too dense and physically complex--not forgeting it will sucumb to entropy--to acknowledge me as 'real'. Yet, your hard work and constant search had brought you to this starship as an individual, you have won the privilege to see 'the extraterrestrials' in order to believe in some of 'the supernatural', now that it has a logical explanation.
However, you made it to Earth long ago, your ship broke and started disintegrating upon touching Earth's atmosphere, you suffered a broken-core landing; you hunted humans in order to survive this ordeal--mixing your genes with those of the humans following the usual passion--killing your mates in the process: all men who have touch you as a female have died by your hand; all women who had carried your child have died after delivering it, and so you have pass on your memory blood cells to your offspring, you have been born many times, as it is the nature of our kind. Too bad it shows you need contact with our own, your genes have been so badly altered you have almost lost the ability to produce memory cells within your blood: you are becoming more human with each birth, so human you have almost forgotten the reason why you are here, on this obscure sector of the universe... ...surviving on subconscious memory schemes and dreams... you call 'fantasies'.
I was wondering, do you remember Ma'el?
''...''
Long ago you came to meet a weird stranger by chance, you thought about him to be a woman who pretended to pass around as a man. You followed her around and spyed on her, subconsciously wishing she was me. Your plans to seduce her were a deception, your approaches were frustrated by the stranger herself. You were a man then, so jealous about this stranger obssession with women. You used to wait for her keeping vigilant, always near the entrances to all those caves and catacombs were she used to hide to perform her secret magic ceremonies among many women. You hoped night after night for her, playing fantasies on your head about ripping her hooded cloak, and discover. You wanted to possess her, to plant yourelf in her body, as she was the best candidate to carry your heritage, W---, your heritage of passion... and murder. But, frustrated upon your failures, you decided to denounce her, and she dissapeared: Humanity have rendered you dumb. He he he he.
But now it looks like a promising story; you almost made it: naked under an alien shower and peeped upon. Talk to me about your fantasies with that unnamed Taelon in your brain, the dream about the big chair on which he comfortably seats before the bed where you lay tied; and he stands and approaches, plunges his lited body over yours, and it feels good the way how he melts within, slowly becoming one with you...
''...what am I saying? ...this is ridiculous...''
...
''...I think... Taelons are trying to drug their personnel...''
...
''...it feels something weird have been happening on this last duty shift, and its effects on my mind has gotten me... like... stoned: it's allucinating...''
Sure. You stepped in front of my probe today, you had brief communication with et. Et has transmited me about you--''a spy from the-other has temporaly taken residence on the starship, et is now possesing a human female body, et responds to the name of 'Marutirio'; it appears et has been dwelling on the planet Earth for quite some time, since et was unable to pick from my mind notice of my thoughts; et seems to have been contaminated with too much human DNA. Even if et doesn't know what was et really trying to do, herm agenda is clear at a subconscious human mental level, et cannot access it as a human but she is capable of following herm path to herm original goal''--. That goal is to reach me.
''...and why... is that I need to reach you...''
Because... don't you know who I am? The subjects of our kind couldn't miss my essence, why you? I guess humans are imperfect indeed: their inability to finally resolve their basic and small dilemas are the main reason why you hate them.
You ended up discovering humans are not alike us: even though our physical, animical and psychic realities are one, we are individuals, but not like humans--which mental and physical realities are separated, and their DNA could be an adquired progressive disease. It is not time for me to get you in within me, I am... not sure if I would like human additives within my essence. Sorry to tell you this, but you have not won: I don't think I'll touch you... for now. You can have all the Taelons you want, that is if you think yourself strong enough to bear the suffering after rediscovering the buried memories of your glory, W---. However, Taelons are not individuals. What do you believe you can attain by joining with a Taelon?
''...''
Of course, I don't care. That's supposed to be your thing after all. Yet, I do care about something:
Please, get clean.
Get clean.
Get clean.
Get clean.
******
******
******
Good? Bad? Fair?
Of course, I don't care: this is a labor of love, and I love to do it.
Soon: To be naked in Taelon.