Shattering Humanity-Chapter 381: "Those Who Are Weak Willed And Truly Irrational, Continuously Strive To Create Absolute Peace For All."
"A person’s steps are established by the Lord,
and he takes pleasure in his way.
Though he falls, he will not be overwhelmed,
because the Lord supports him with his hand.
I have been young and now I am old, yet I have not seen the righteous abandoned
or his children begging for bread.
He is always generous, always lending,
and his children are a blessing.
Turn away from evil, do what is good, and settle permanently.
For the Lord loves justice and will not abandon his faithful ones.
They are kept safe forever, but the children of the wicked will be destroyed.
The righteous will inherit the land and dwell in it permanently.
The mouth of the righteous utters wisdom; his tongue speaks what is just.
The instruction of his God is in his heart; his steps do not falter.
The wicked one lies in wait for the righteous
and intends to kill him; the Lord will not leave him in the power of the wicked one or allow him to be condemned when he is judged.
Wait for the Lord and keep his way, and he will exalt you to inherit the land.
You will watch when the wicked are destroyed.
I have seen a wicked, violent person well-rooted, like a flourishing native tree.
Then I passed by and noticed he was gone; I searched for him, but he could not be found.
Watch the blameless and observe the upright, for the person of peace will have a future.
But transgressors will all be eliminated; the future of the wicked will be destroyed.
The salvation of the righteous is from the Lord, their refuge in a time of distress.
The Lord helps and delivers them; he will deliver them from the wicked and will save them because they take refuge in him." Psalms 27: 23-40
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{MamMon’s Southern Apartments}
In one of the multi-floored buildings, on the third floor, Nomad carries her niece, Buzz through a bright 3 bedroom apartment. She walks into a bedroom with the mumbling miniature mechanic/engineer in her arms.
The dark room has two beds, but someone is already in the right side bed.
Nomad softly lowers her purpose into the empty bed. Like a loving caretaker, the Aunt then folds the comforter over the passed out young woman.
In the other bed, murmuring is coming from it’s occupant.
It is the unconscious black haired young woman who was saved by the DæMon during the destruction of New Dodge.
She is sweating while having a nightmare.
Black-Haired Girl: "Chains...
Locked in...
Imprisoned...
Stuck...
Stuck....
I’m stuck...forever..."
Nomad has a look of pity on her face listening to the guest having night terrors.
Nomad: "Poor thing..."
She looks down on sleeping Buzz. The cute engineer with long, closed eyelashes breathes quietly and steadily.
Nomad: "I remember when you got that damn symb-eye-otes, ’Bupp’."
MaMmon DæMon: "I can only imagine what her night terrors were." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶
The tall, muscular aunt spins around seeing one of the twins with the same name. The DæMon has her cloak hood up, covering her head as she leans up against the inner door frame.
Nomad puts a hand to her chest, letting her heart slow down before responding.
Nomad: "You startled me Mrs.
I didn’t hear you at all, and I’m kinda good at that.
When I was on duty, I was known for my sense of hearing."
The vertically and physically blessed woman chuckles while pulling up a wooden chair from the corner, sitting on it backwards next to the bed.
Nomad: "I could hear a rat fart at a rock concert’ is what I would tell everyone, but now..."
She begins picking her left ear with her pinky, once removed her fingertip is covered in flakes of blood.
Nomad: "...now I’m just some freakishly large woman protecting the tiny and precious piece of family I have left in this Hell of a world."
Checking her gold painted nails, the overpowered witch takes the opportunity to chat with her new underling and grow the power of her SanguineSoulSeiõrShield.
MaMmon DæMon: "I wouldn’t worry about not being able to detect my presence through auditory perception, Dear.
My capabilities go way beyond even the highest percentile of humans with advanced senses."
Nomad raises her eyebrows, impressed with the confidence of her new leader.
Nomad: "Wow that’s impressive, Mrs."
MaMmon DæMon: "I’m not a ’Mrs.’ yet, but in a few days, my hubby and I will be together forever."
Not understanding the presumptuous infatuation with the Vessel for all that is Yin, Nomad smiles.
Nomad: "Well congratulations."
She checks her pockets and gets disappointed after realizing there’s nothing in them.
MaMmon DæMon: "Much obliged..."
From the sleeve of her cloak, MaMmon tosses a pack of cigarettes towards her guest. The same brand as the carton she supplies Isfet and Ichythis.
Nomad catches the full pack of cigarettes, with an attached matchbook and striking strip to the small, single carton.
MaMmon DæMon: "...so you may refer to me as ’Madame MaMmon’ or ’Madame MamMon’.
I don’t ask for much but your loyalty and faith in me to keep that one piece of your family safe.
In return, once I establish stability to the world with my husband, everyone under my protection will bask in a world of safety again."
Nomad still not fully understanding the magical situation looks left to right with just her eyes.
Nomad: "Okayyyy..."
She holds up and then opens the fresh cigarette pack.
Nomad: "...But thank you, Madame MaMmon.
Do you smoke too?"
MaMmon lowers her hood, revealing her curly golden hair tucked into her collar. She runs her hands underneath the blonde strains, freeing them from the stuffy inside of her cloak.
MaMmon DæMon: "I don’t care for it really.
I can already forsee, a majority of my allies are addicted to either tobacco, nicotine, alcohol, or cannabis. So to ensure your faith in me, I will entrust my provisions to all of you.
In the end, all addictions do is provide weakness to the abuser’s body and mental awareness.
The inability to satiate one’s own cravings can lead them to making detrimental mistakes in the time of battle, or the diminishing affects to the inner body over time could lead to a quicker defeat."
After taking the first drag from her fag, Nomad stares at the lit end, and the tiny smoke stream floating from it, dispersing into the air in the room.
Contemplating the crude and harsh words coming directly from her own supplier of addiction.
Nomad: "I haven’t smoked in almost 18 years..."
MamMon’s blue eyes side shift over at the confession to her relapse.
Nomad: "I had originally quit the night I was put in charge of her, but seeing her sleeping, in the same way as that night I had finished my ’last’ one..."
She looks at Buzz, the 18 year old, with black and teal hair, large, mascara covered eyelashes, sucking on her thumb that is painted black like the rest of her nails.
Nomad carefully removes the thumb from her niece’s mouth.
Nomad: "Sometimes, we just need something, anything, that will make life slow down or less sufferable. Whether one abuses their entrance into hedonism is based solely on the individual..."
MaMmon notices the true care and wisdom behind the large woman’s voice.
Nomad: "We all want to be happy.
We all want to be happy, all the time.
Being ’happy’, means all this bullshit we’re going through now, happiness makes now all worth it."
She takes a deep drag, exhaling a dark cloud of smoke. The all around tough woman tries her hardest to fight back tears while letting her thoughts out.
Nomad: "Unfortunately, everyday, it seems to get harder and harder just to find that happiness, but the bullshit and suffering..."
MaMmon DæMon: "...’But the bullshit and the suffering, they never end’."
Nomad nods once. Unnoticeably, the ash from the cigarette breaks off and loftily drifts to the floor.
MaMmon walks over to the other unconscious young lady in the room. With grace and dignity, she slowly opens her knocked out guest’s left eye, exposing an IceEye symbiote moving independently within it’s host.
The black, diamond like pupil focuses on the DæMon, making sure there is no immediate threat to it’s most recent life source.
Unafraid of the small, unnaturally born symbiote, MaMmon moves her hand away from the saved girl’s face.
MaMmon DæMon: "Well just as you have deduced on your own, life and this world are not for the feint at heart.
Those who are weak willed and truly irrational, continuously strive to create absolute peace for all."
The smell of tobacco smoke hits the black haired woman’s nostrils and her nose twitches in reaction. Her face scrunches up as she reacts the stench.
MaMmon DæMon: "When true peace and a real manifestation of heaven can only be achieved, when one focuses on themselves and the closest to them."
The saved woman in bed flutters her purple and IceEye open.
