That which some have come to think of as Which Was reared its wonderful one-ness back into the omnipotent non-ness of what it was/wasn't; cradled its quite unique non-ness into the accepting arms of the all-encompassing one-ness and let go a little, virtual smile. It took a look about its non-self, taking in the grandeur of ALL there was, the ALL of which some little portions of it were now being allowed to awaken to the fact that their gradually progressing perceptions of it were on the right track.

There was a time Man thought HE was the center of it all. In response to that silliness time was given; Man then thought his little celestial body was. Then his little stellar; oh, such wonderful beings those stellars. Perhaps one day their language would finally be deciphered by the other pieces at play.

He/she/it shook a figurative head, smiled more smugly at the Progression Of Things, which albeit slow was at least on an accurate track.

One day those little motes awoke to the fact that there was more, oh indeed quite more; their tunneled little view expanded its paradigms and took a leap of faith.

Stellars existed, vast quantities of them in wonderful pin-wheeling units. At first only each individual one was recognized by the motes inhabiting it, but slowly, bit by bit, in a manner yet evolving, each little bit grew cognizant of the fact that there were more, there were hundreds, millions, billions of those units, each in turn encompassing billions of stellar brothers.

That the stellars were the true Life of the Universe was not yet understood by the little motes dwelling in the All-ness; it was enough that they now looked out toward a universe with tiny eyes that were gradually opening in recognition of the fact that perhaps the better term was in fact Universes...

"Hey, unfair move! That's partiality!" The cry from him/her/itself came from behind him/her/itself.

That-Which-Was took up some stuff of what is, coalesed it into the brilliant ultraviolet-and-chrome Eyes of which he/she/it had become quite fond, and cast them behind his/her/itself.

A figurative sigh was heaved.

"We hoped we wouldn't have noticed..." it non-said, then muttered in further rejoinder, "But a fair move had been made."

Nothing back but a snort; he/she/it sighed, and then waved a figurative hand.

The fabric of Stuff which wove together existence of both forms, be it living or non, rippled, gathered into an immensely tiny little bunch, and exploded outward in the virtual equivalent of a Big Bang.

Here and there certain motes began waking up, some in surprise, some with regret, but one by one those certain few began to wake up as if from a deep slumber.

The Other still wasn't satisfied. "We're not just giving it away!" it protested, the non-words loud and born in total effrontery.

That-Which-Was merely snorted.

"Of course not. Balance must be maintained; it must always be maintained. We know that, and some of us still know it at different degrees, at different levels than others.

"We'll see now..."

The Other muttered beneath its non-breath. "We still think you're making up the Rules as you go along! But we'll wait.

"Now let us think..."

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Things that by all logic he should have been killed for knowing.

So he wondered again why the kriffing hell he was still alive. His muscles ached at the very thought, and he shifted as much as he could in his restricted position, stabs of sharp pain shooting up and down his legs, spine, and arms. Matt gritted his teeth and forced down an unvoluntary groan as much as he could, cursing the chains that held him. He had been trying for quite some time--and pretty much in vain--to twist and turn them until something snapped free from the wall. He hadn't been successful yet, but he wasn't ready to give up either. At the very least, his action did remind the Sith guards that he was there, for every once in a while his work had created enough of a stir that they had come in to remind him that they were there as well via quick but painful lashings. Something about it all reminded Matt of the Embrace of Pain the Vong were so notorious for...a biological something-or-other that held a person in place so that they were in just enough pain to not fight back but still be cognizant of the agony. Matt had even read of how some people were hung upside down to make the experience even more disorienting.

The very thought made him thankful his situation wasn't any worse. After all, the Sith were down the magicks that the usually relied upon, as was everyone else. Matt took a few shuddery deep breaths then to prepare himself for the effort he was about to make. Then, putting all his strength into moving his arms and legs and torso while striving to do so as quietly as possible, Matt began to twist and turn the chains that bond him in his cell once more.

It was as though these Sith knew he and his commrades had worked their way out of many impossible situations in the past...

...but then again, they had been lead to believe he was someone else.

Reality dawned then on Matt, who was thinking more clearly than was currently usual.

That was perhaps the only reason he was still alive...

[ 08-04-2010 12:25 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Matt Stanza ]

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