I'm not your god. But a god is what I am and have always been. I can perform miracles, breathe life into clay, cast down demons, and raise up heros.
I've done all those things. I've been worshipped, I've ruled with benevolence and with fear. I've left my immortal stamp in a double handful of family lines. I've been beloved on the stage and despised in the boardroom.
Time doesn't hold me the way it does for you. But I've been content to drift along. My greatest kingdom was dust long centuries before my sojourn in the spotlight. The mountains I raised, the island empire that I sank... Your species had barely discovered fire.
There was a kind of frenetic charm in burning fleets of warships, or founding a city. But great gestures are so broad. So unrefined. I've learned to appreciate the details.
So each new facet of existence that I explore is smaller, more mundane. From king to clerk, from magnate to sweeper. And now, this.
I need nothing, you see. What use are material things, when I can create any of them on a whim? I do not fear cold, or heat, or the blows of vicious youths. I don't hunger or thirst. I slept once. For or a thousand years I lay beneath a hill, clutching an iron sword. I dreamed then, and have no need to do so again.
So leave me to my quiet watch. I'll sit beneath this loading dock and watch the rats. I'll learn what the roaches know, and I'll name the empires of pigeons and the empires of ants. I've no need for socks or water or a certificate in Javascript.
Zero_Drift t1_j94x210 wrote
Reply to [WP] God, demigod, guardian--Every time mankind finds you, during a different age, they give you a title representative of your otherworldly power. You aren't getting weaker, yet your title gets diluted each time until finally, a group of humans think you're just a homeless person who needs help. by gymleader_michael
I'm not your god. But a god is what I am and have always been. I can perform miracles, breathe life into clay, cast down demons, and raise up heros.
I've done all those things. I've been worshipped, I've ruled with benevolence and with fear. I've left my immortal stamp in a double handful of family lines. I've been beloved on the stage and despised in the boardroom.
Time doesn't hold me the way it does for you. But I've been content to drift along. My greatest kingdom was dust long centuries before my sojourn in the spotlight. The mountains I raised, the island empire that I sank... Your species had barely discovered fire.
There was a kind of frenetic charm in burning fleets of warships, or founding a city. But great gestures are so broad. So unrefined. I've learned to appreciate the details.
So each new facet of existence that I explore is smaller, more mundane. From king to clerk, from magnate to sweeper. And now, this.
I need nothing, you see. What use are material things, when I can create any of them on a whim? I do not fear cold, or heat, or the blows of vicious youths. I don't hunger or thirst. I slept once. For or a thousand years I lay beneath a hill, clutching an iron sword. I dreamed then, and have no need to do so again.
So leave me to my quiet watch. I'll sit beneath this loading dock and watch the rats. I'll learn what the roaches know, and I'll name the empires of pigeons and the empires of ants. I've no need for socks or water or a certificate in Javascript.