Sorry it took me so long to get back to this...

hey, its all good

As one the villagers screamed, recognizing him for what he was: a Mad

God, a

ruler of the world. Some attempted to flee, others fell on their knees,
babbling out oaths of obeisance or begging for scraps of mercy. Other

ran

for their huts to snatch up impotent weapons, praying for the m!

iracle they knew would not come.

maybe make 'knew' into something like 'intuited'

       No, that sounds clumsy and a bit forced to me.

well not intuited exactly. But using 'knew' makes it sort of oxymoronic for
them to pray at all. I see it more that their gut instinct told them nothing
would come, but their fragile ego's were still clutching on to the hopes
that something would come out of it anyway. Also, since it turns out they
werent real to begin with, talking about them praying and thinking seems
kind of strange.

to her feet, transformed, meeping and whining. Her red, rheumy eyes fell

on

her daughter and she leaped at the young girl, catching her up and

carrying

her into the huts.

i like this, the thrusting sort of being a sick spell

       I've thought about toning this section down a bit. Keep the

thrusting

part but not having As. climax all over the poor woman. A bit over the

top...

And this coming from a guy who just had some hapless souls devoured by
locusts...

right, i think it works the way it is.

Then, suddenly, without warning, silence, save for the braying

laughter.

wouldnt use it twice though

       I feel that I put enough space between the repetitions, but I'll
probably take your advice.

well it is an odd word, and it stands out every time you use it. You use a
very large vocabulary in this story, at first it kind of slowed things down
as i kept having to reconsider what was going on, and why you were descrbing
it so volubly, but then it became kind of a stylistic thing and i enjoyed
it. But i would repeat the words, if you want to do it that way, you should
keep every sentence new and fresh, like the style is pouring forth on its
own.

good introductory paragraph. straight to the point. Asmodeus shares his
inner dialogue with everyone, because no one in his realm, his space of
awareness, could be a threat.

       Most of the Gods of Earth suffer from this arrogance, though they

are

usually a bit more circumspect in their dealings with other deities,

whether

native or alien. Asmodeus himself is practically solipsistic, and I hope

that

that is reflected in my characterization of him.

it did. You and DB have a good way of keeping out unnecesary dialogue and
hitting straight to the point of things, as if the audience did not exist. I
like this a lot.

maybe 'writhe', as if they had now senced the quality of their

surroundings

and became displeased and frightningly disgusted

       Doesn't match the image in my head.

I see it as this living/mechanical duality of god material, both going on at
the same time, like the 'will of the inanimate.'

Asmodeus screamed.

maybe a short sentence hear about the quality of the scream

       I'll think about it. Maybe I'll emphasize it by giving it its own
paragraph.

well dont go too far....

memory of humiliation and a burning anger. He hovered above the

stranger,

cursing him with silent thoughts that nevertheless charged the air. The
stranger retracted his spike, transparent reddish blood sloughing from
them,

great

       Thanks.

sloughing, great word, and perfect here

     Asmodeus looked at his hand incredulously and attempted to summon

another bolt of force. Energy crackled and sputtered in his hand and

then

extinguished with a pop. The stranger was walking towards him and the

first

time since his apotheosis Asmodeus felt fear's touch- a cold and slender
hand slipping through his ribcage, grasping his racing heart with
merciless,
chill fingers. In a queer way his jaundiced sensibilities enjoyed the
novelty of the experience.

yes

       You like this one? Why, please.

because thats what the demons do. The take sordid, bottom-feeding pleasure
in everything that they do, at any cost. They suffer an existence of
addiction to their own egos, not even allowing pain inflicted against them
to interrupt the stream of constant delight. But you knew that.

The stranger stared up momentarily after the wake of Asmodeus's flight

then made a strange twisting motion with his hand, thus accessing a
dimensional pocket he commanded; his hand disappeared, thrust through a
small spiral of swirling, dark energy. He took quick inventory and

grimaced

at the results. His stores were diminished- few ioun stones remained.

like I.O.U. maybe?

       No, ioun, lifted from Jack Vance's Dying Earth novel Rhilato the
Marvelous.

Maybe thats what Jack was thinking. The I.O.U.'s in yourself are the hardest
things to break down for other purposes.

Then he discovered a way to resolve his situation. At the feet of an

ancient, alien deity he learned that the souls of gods and mortals did

not

perish with their material forms, instead traveled beyond the influence

of

the Universe to dwell in a shadowy plane inaccessible to even the

mightiest

of powers.

yes

       Liked this? Why, please.

Because I agree with it. You cant get rid of something like a soul, just
push it so far away nothing can get to it. And yes, if he can make contact
with her somehow, (especially since he is the person most capable of doing
so, having had that real connection so long ago), he can certainly bring her
back through space and time. Its like that greek myth where the guy went to
hades and could bring back his wife as long as he didnt look back the whole
time. With the ego summarily crucified, and only true feeling left to
surface on its own, i think anything is possible.

yes, she always seems to be a shade brighter than she was at the

pervious

moment

       ? I'm a bit confused here.

oh, thats just the ways memories like that are. Everytime you bring them up,
they seem that much brighter and happier, mimicing your growing feeling of
loss.

       Well, at least one person likes my work. You're the only one who's
responded to either this or The Gun God's Haiku (which, in a certain way,

was

one of the hardest things I've ever written, even though it only took me

two

hours, tops, to compose, including revisions). I know original fiction

tends

not to incite much public commentary, but its frustrating as all hell to

see

this work, which I feel to be the best story I've written in a long time -
better than Key of Inverse or even Dreams... - not get a peep on the list

or

in private, while a throw away piece of shit liked Doomed triggers six or
seven public responses. And so it goes...

believe me, as a author of a long runnig original that gets pitifully small
amounts of actual C&C, though many people apparently read it, i know what
you are saying. What to do.

Take it easy, man.


aescension


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