The name or attitude of a terrible creature. Historians called it the first ‘emotional masochist.
“Three heads it has.
The first is fumbling and soppy. In a constant state of naivety, benevolence and weakness. It’s constrained for its need to love and care for others. Trapped by its empathy.
The second is cold, ruthless and logical. Undaunted by humanities ever shifting moral standards. It is as flexible as sand and will stop at nothing to achieve its designs.
The third, in the centre of the husk, is ancient and terrible. Shrouded by its misery and the misery of others. It is capable of all emotions and feeds off of its pain as well as the pain it causes. It’s tendrils are buried in everyone and everything and it’s eye is always filled with salt water.
All together they make up a conglomeration of pure revulsion. This thing has slowly pulsated across the world since time immemorial. It wishes for the death of itself and all things ephemeral. It remains on its singular journey to Sorangth. And it will slither and groan until the sun fades and all the stars die. Until all universes are ended. Until life itself is but a distant thought. Until the shadow of atoms are all that remain. It will gain utter solitude, where it will laugh and cry. But never will it die.” - Unknown
“Three heads it has.
The first is fumbling and soppy. In a constant state of naivety, benevolence and weakness. It’s constrained for its need to love and care for others. Trapped by its empathy.
The second is cold, ruthless and logical. Undaunted by humanities ever shifting moral standards. It is as flexible as sand and will stop at nothing to achieve its designs.
The third, in the centre of the husk, is ancient and terrible. Shrouded by its misery and the misery of others. It is capable of all emotions and feeds off of its pain as well as the pain it causes. It’s tendrils are buried in everyone and everything and it’s eye is always filled with salt water.
All together they make up a conglomeration of pure revulsion. This thing has slowly pulsated across the world since time immemorial. It wishes for the death of itself and all things ephemeral. It remains on its singular journey to Sorangth. And it will slither and groan until the sun fades and all the stars die. Until all universes are ended. Until life itself is but a distant thought. Until the shadow of atoms are all that remain. It will gain utter solitude, where it will laugh and cry. But never will it die.” - Unknown
“I will not be treated like an Ohirum.”
“Your words are ohirumistic at best.”
“Stop acting like an Ohirum.”
“He’s as ugly as Ohirum.”
“Your words are ohirumistic at best.”
“Stop acting like an Ohirum.”
“He’s as ugly as Ohirum.”
by A disciple of Ohirum June 03, 2020