Shattering Humanity-Chapter 387: YGGDRASIL MINDCSCAPE REALMS I{RECAP}
{Recap of Mindcscapes Realms and the fights that happen in them}
MaMmon DæMon: "The silent treatment doesn’t work for your character anymore, dear Esau.
Tell me, why didn’t you go back with your sister in law?
Those apartments were designed for my followers to live normal lives again.
You could have-"
From the dark shadows of the woods, there comes a rustling in the bushes. Growling from Garmr comes first, then opening yellow eyes look across towards the two bipeds talking amongst each other.
The woman sitting in the trees smirks after putting two and two together.
MaMmon DæMon: "Just as my husband, the true Yin Vessel has done with his canine companionship, as the ’Unchosen Yin Vessel’, have you made an actual bond with Ga-"
Esau: "What’s it to you?"
The man sheathes his large knife back to his hip and goes to grab a cloth from his waist strapped satchel.
During his rummaging however, his hand grazes something else, and instead he pulls out the all red lock of hair, with a matching colored bow attached.
There is a moment of silence while he stares at the memento almost lost the night before.
Taking a deep breath, Esau tosses the core of the sliced up fruit in the direction of the glowing yellow eyes of the mythical beast brought to the real world.
From the dog like onomatopoetic slobbering and munching, Garmr is enjoying the scraps given to him by his closest ally.
Esau: "If that little dirt bag of a kid is the ’chosen one’, then I’m glad I am the ’unchosen one’."
Aggravated from the negative connotation about her beloved "husband", from inside her own head, MaMmon curses the thankful man.
Surprising the stuck in thought DæMon...
Esau: "Where exactly did you say Garmr was from?"
Her blue eyes dart back down below, now leaning his back up against a tree, perfectly nestled to view the bright waning gibbous through the only opening in the middle of the packed Seiõr grown forest.
She snickers and clears her throat.
MamMon DæMon: "Well, if you must know dearest Esau, I defeated the largest and most deadliest version of himself within my Mindscape, and then brought him to back here, to Midgard."
Esau: "’Midgard’?"
Knowing she has "got the fish hooked", the multiple century year old woman looks at her painted nails while giving the man a quick run down of the theology from her heritage.
MaMmon DæMon: "You see, we as intelligent, organic computers all have a Yggdrasil, or a mental tree that represents each individual.
Attached to each one of our personal Yggdrasils are 9 realms.
At the top is Asgard, the realm of the Gods, and for the Gods.
Only few are allowed to step foot in such a realm, never the less one not born from there.
Next, is Ljósálfheimr, a realm that resembles much like what I’ve remodeled from this flattened city into, a quiet little forest.
However, in the true version of Ljósálfheimr, the elven folk to wander. Elves so beautiful and unbelievable spiritual elegance, they had to be placed in a separate realm.
On the adjacent half of the world tree, there is Svartálfaheirmr, or land of the dwarfs.
Much like General Nephilim and his people live in the mountains, the dwarves who were unmatched at mining, smithing, and crafting, the realm they live in is a vast mountainous region.
At every peak of a mountain exposes another cluster of mountains to mine and forge for the men and women who lived to get their hands dirty."
Annoyed at the long winded explanation, Esau finally interrupts.
Esau: "Ya know, how come every time there is a simple response, I have to get the entire lore of your thought process?
I simply asked-"
Suddenly, an acorn zips through the wind, is fired right into the open mouth of the ranting man, and hits the back of his throat. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎
He shortly chokes on it before spitting the perfectly thrown nut to the grass beneath him.
He looks up terrified and MaMmon still has her arm out from her throwing motion, her face twitching in anger.
MaMmon DæMon: "I was getting to that, you damn imbecile."
Swallowing his spit down his thankfully cleared throat, Esau leans back and shuts up.
MaMmon DæMon: "Next...is...Midgard."
She repositions herself back into a comfortable spot before returning to the explanation.
MaMmon DæMon: "Midgard, is the realm we as intelligent organic computers consider, ’the real world’.
You and all other humans who were born naturally into this realm wouldn’t understand the feelings of a being like myself, born unnaturally here.
It is the opposite of a human born in Asgard, I am a God born in this realm of mortals "
From the darkness behind a very doubtful Esau, the snout of Garmr sticks out but as the yellow eyes look up, they see the even more intimidating stare of the Old Norse witch shooting back at him.
The nose retreats back within the darkness before MaMmon continues.
MaMmon DæMon: "But yet, all of these ’realms’ are just old Scandinavian theology."
...
MamMon DæMon: "If you look at the illustrated representation of both the Yin and Yang contemporary forces, his whole schtick as the Yang Vessel, is to be the bright and shiny, happy-go-lucky, glass half full leader. When in reality, his inner core is dark and evil, and if that core is allowed to express itself, then Skalmönd’s boy toy would be willing to use his full potential to not only wipe out humanity, but more importantly, my hubby.
It has come to my understanding that the sole purpose of Mindcscapes, is so those of us with continent altering potential or so the Yang Vessel with his unlimited destructive force, doesn’t destroy the entire planet."
Esau sucks his teeth at the declared information.
MamMon DæMon: "In contrast however, the man I’m fated to be impregnated by..."
Esau gives her a disturbed and wierded out side stare from her inappropriate description.
MamMon DæMon: "Though he is hard nosed, a little bitter, nihilistic, and has no filter to his true beliefs. His core, his beautiful, bright core. Mutually ambivalent to all ideas, beliefs, practices, theories, constructs, and people as they are presented.
His core is the truth, and my husband is the truth."
Not turning in shock, but keeping his cool, annoyed Esau doesn’t realize the difference in nail polish. The man moderately knowledgeable with Seiõr, doesn’t know he is now talking to a different DæMon entirely.
Esau: "When this apocalypse is over, you should bring that magic act on the road.
Instead of playing God with us humans and falsifying their understandings of this universe."
MamMon DæMon: "Watch your tongue, unfortunate one.
You know just as well as I do, Seiõr users haven’t been considered legitimate ever since our practices were considered unholy by all majorly enforced beliefs."
After she claws five marks into the bark of the tree out of her own anger, MamMon takes a breath.
MamMon DæMon: "I’ll also let you know, misfortunate Esau, after the successful recruitment I have established this past month, I may still view your unique and hate fueled values as an irreplaceable asset. Although, I have come to realize I no longer need you in my organization to successfully defeat Skalmönd and her band of misfits.
Just so we’re clear."
Esau: "A King can claim his kingdom in the middle of the circus, but that alone doesn’t make a palace. Without any support to help the monarch succeed, he’s just the King of the Clowns, trapped in a cage with a lion."
MamMon’s nose and eyebrows twitch in rage. The depressed man turns away from the argument and calms down.
The "lone wolf" reaches into a close by bush behind him and moves his hand around. He stops, pulls back, and in his clutch is a half wittled, wooden block.
Taking his Bowie knife back out, he carefully shaves a small piece off the unfinished craft with the tip of the (still unnecessary for the particular task) large blade, then studies where the next area to cut will be.
MamMon looks at the carved up block of wood in his battle damaged hands.
MamMon DæMon: "As proof of yesterday’s events, another reminder; caused by you, even with my Nye-omnipotency and near future predictions, I cannot fully predict your truest intentions, nor that weasel of a Yang force’s.
So when I ask this, I mean it with true sincerity..."
Esau slices another thin piece while listening to his leader.
MamMon DæMon: "...But is the finished result of that going to be a model figure of your beloved, late wife?"
Another piece is cut off vertically and another. The man seeming to have a certain idea for his project, doesn’t answer her polite assumption.
Sucking her teeth, and spinning around so fast her cloak audibly flaps, MamMon walks away from the concentrated artist, hood on.
MamMon DæMon: "I’ll see you tomorrow, you forever forlorn sad sack."
