A small coffee shop on Earth.

Nyama "Jerry Williams" test

Cassius stopped dead and tilted her head towards Infinitous. She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "Nuetrality?" Her heart leaped into her throat, the arythmic beating something she was used to. "Nothingness..." A faint smile came to her and she softened a fraction. She seemed to come to a decision and sat down with a decisive smack of hip bones against polished wood. "Alright, let's do this. I'll behave if you do."

Quagmire flinched in irritation, knowing that his brooding was causing him to play into Cassius hands. He found new found strength in his pompous pride. He looked up to all of them. "Very well...Lets have a seat on this clean table here in a orderly fashion, and let us discuss the pro and cons of existence."

Margaret "Maisie" couldn't contain her shock and let out a small noise not unlike the sound made when one has been punched in the stomach. "All... all right then..Um, who would like to start."

Infinitous-Zero "Quagmire Jones" Quagmire sighed feeling the confidence rushing back into him, he had his precious tidy organizational control back. "First lets begin by stating our grievances with the current state of existence, especially those grievances that are related to our most intelligent creation, if you can even call them that, side issue. Just say what you think is wrong with mankind, simple enough right?"

Cassius blinked. "My grievance is humanity. This place is all wrong. You've shaped the universe into something it was never meant to be. You can carve a tree to look like a dolphin and it'll be all well and good, very pretty, but if you're not careful you'll kill the damn tree!" She flushed a bit making her face ruddy and mottled. "It's and abomination. That's my stance."

Infinitous-Zero "Quagmire Jones" "In all my vast existence I've never heard a more idiotic statemant! That makes no sense I can't even begin to articulate on how many levels that sort of thinking is fla-," Quagmire realized that his rant was going to prove fruitless, he took a deep breath. "Alright well...that's a very unique point a of view, but a three being a living thing had to be created, and it was by Nymph over there, the existence is more like a lump of clay, it needs to be molded, for us deities creation gives us purpose, at least those of us who aren't la-," "Maisie! What do you think?"

Maisie sat in thought for a moment. "Well...I think I'm a bit partial. I'm of humans, and therefore for humans. But it seems to me that despite all of our grandiose power and standing, we lack a lot that humans possess in spades. The world is such a grand place but all we can do is correct and adjust and get involved in the petty inner workings. Humans, in their endless quest to perfect an imperfect world have actually come to embrace it, come to accept that the rules don't make sense and aren't fair. Their imperfect world is fantastic. It's not an error or a botched job. It's organic and flowing and messy, just like it should be. We need them." Throughout her schpiel she had been mostly talking to herself, unable to lift her eyes from where her arms were crossed across her stomach, and as such her voice was low and quiet.

Infinitous-Zero "Quagmire Jones" Quagmire piped in even before his 'partner and ally' could finish. "Well if you're of humans that might present a problem, how could you possibly be objective...But I don't think that you really are, I mean are humans capable of creating a god! That's preposterous! It maybe a mystery to us what our origins are how we just come into being, I have a theory of course, we will ourselves into being but at a future time, since we're not limited to linear time which I of course have invented."

Margaret "Maisie" "In all fairness, you are partial too. You came into being when the planning began the first time, correct? You were born to correct and build. You can't think any other way. We're all partial."

...

Danse watches the others fuss and preen over themselves about their precious universe and he merely fumes. Music blaring into his ears create a perfect, insular world inside his little shell but he watches the lips move about on the awkward hosts. In particular he chews on the the insult of having a universe without him as Quagmire suggests. Slowly, unnoticed in his mood, he slips off the headphones. His gaze rises up towards his compatriots and an almost audible growl filters through his pursed lips. Finally, he cannot stand the neglect. "Cassius is right. Humanity is entirely wrong, a figment of our own nightmare," he snaps. He shifts his attention to Quagmire, "Think of natural selection, for a moment. You should be able to do that. If a human being is born with a defect, like... oh a weakened immune system; the boy in the bubble scenario. The human will die without assistance, never passing on its defect. However, as gods we grant these ants with the ability to overcome its weaknesses artificially and so it passes these defects on to the next generation. What we have is a hobby that's grown sickly and deficient. As Death, I am just in my decree to end human suffering," he says in a soft tone, bearing an undertone of sympathy. But as the memories of every soul Death has touched, a bitterness hardens in his throat. "Without me" he shouts, "Without ME you punish your defective brats!" He sneers, nursing his insult deep in his chest. "Once you become tired of your playthings, it is me who cleans up after you and puts your pretty little toys away," he mutters, staring off to the side. Danse waits for recognition, knowing it won't come. In all of Creation, Death has never been popular.

"In all fairness, you are partial too. You came into being when the planning began the first time, correct? You were born to correct and build. You can't think any other way. We're all partial." The words rang in Quagmires head like bell, pouring mixed emotions into his being, it was disarming, could he really say that he was partial? "W-well," he stammered and paused for a moment, a mortal can claim to be impartial when they used mathematics as an absolute or the physical laws, but they were Infinitous' invention it was his opinion, in all objectivity he could not say that Cassius' void was any worse, if it weren't for the fact that existence needed a purpose, and that it needed to be perceived by living things to truly exist, it did not however have to make any sense, this made him sweat...he quickly changed the subject the second part of the question even if he wasn't fond of it either.

The obsucrity of his own origins was not something that he liked to think about, but at least it would distract from his being impartial keeping his ego intact. "I have no idea when I came into being, I just remember nothing one moment and then being the next moment...just being, Cassius was there as well as the other stability challenged nitwits, worse still I couldn't get away from them! They were around me, inside me next to me, there was no quantity of space, no 5 inches apart, no mile away!" Quagmire rested his head in one hand, as if he were nursing a big headache, then continued to speak "There were other...things too, that void wasn't like the proper voids we know today because there was no space...You'd get blotches and blobs and things of no color and every color, and they would pop in and out of existence. It might have been a second or a trillion years, but I remember seeing one dot and then another, that's when I had my greatest epiphany, the one life changing thought that gave me purpose! 1 and 1 makes 2!" He had raised his head up in almost a manic expression of joy, thinking back on the first equation he'd ever made. It's then when he realized Danse had began speaking to him, he always talked in what seemed like halved thought-out poems, that abstract and imprecise speech irritated him so much. " "What we have is a hobby that's grown sickly and deficient. As Death, I am just in my decree to end human suffering," he says in a soft tone, bearing an undertone of sympathy. But as the memories of every soul Death has touched, a bitterness hardens in his throat. "Without me" he shouts, "Without ME you punish your defective brats!" Quagmire sighed "I admit I've ran some basic simulations, a third universe without you would fail, I admit it! Are you happy now? But while we are being honest each other why won't you admit that you LOVE LIFE!? Instead of complaining and feeling sorry for yourself? If anything else you'd be bored out of your mind death, with nothing to snuff out." "But enough of this," Quagmire waved his hand in the air as if the conversation was smokey and need clearing. "We're derailing from the subject," he announced, conveniently forgetting who had derailed the subject to begin with. "We're here to talk about humanity now, I've composed a scientific research paper on all the variables in the human race that causes them to do go astray, complete with statistical facts starting from 10,000 years ago to present day, to back up my claims. I've printed out copies for you to read. Should I get them now?

If it wasn’t so undignified for Death to snort, he would have. “Love life? Me? That’s absolutely ridiculous! Is this meeting just to insult me?” He looks around him for something to throw, to destroy, unable to truly separate himself from his nature. Danse spots his cold, black coffee and with a great sense of panache, he hurls it at the wall. Sadly, as Death is no stranger to Irony (that sneaky little bitch), a drop splashes into his eye. His grim outburst melts into a cry of agony that dissolves into a death rattle. “See!! See that! It’s like this entire universe is built for human suffering. How can you even stand to be human yourself? That incessant beating in your chest; the constant whirring of electrical impulses in your skull; these cursed nerve endings that always manage to get pricked…” He rubs his eye with the palm of his hand, messing up his perfect coif. A large bruise is momentarily visible from beneath the veil of hair, revealing a hint to his host’s abduction. “Stupid nerve endings…” Danse calms down, feeling the clouds of doom wrap around him like a snuggly blanket. “I could easily give up the little games I play with these… animals, if it meant some peace,” his voice grows quiet. He becomes lost in thought for a moment, thinking fondly on the little humans, always ready to play. Then he sneers and mutters, “They’re cheats… all of them…”

Cassius laughed out loud at the thought. It carried through to a cackle and then a jolting, ragged breath. She turned to Death to see if he found it quite so funny, but found him to be sulking as usual, and somewhat banged up. She smiled at him anyway. "Today may not result in the best decision, but at least we get to see a show! C'mon, you pile of superficial flesh wounds," she gestured at the scars on his arms, what little were visible, "at least be happy about that!"

Margaret "Maisie" felt increasingly uncomfortable. She hadn't quite realized what her years of isolation from the others had done, but it was quite clear now that she had neglected these vital relationships for entirely too long. She was terrified of Cassius, but it was more than that. She was on poor terms with Infinitous and Death, and every other god or goddess she could think of. If everyone were to show up, she would still have only one person in the room with whom she had an uncomplicated relationship. Nymph. It would seem that her presence was going to be completely inneffective, despite how noble she had seemed to herself at the time she had arrived.

Given this revelation, it was with the firm voice of one with nothing to loose or gain that she spoke next, "I think you're all being idiots. I've got little patience for anyone who thinks so little of their own creations that they're willing to call a do-over, as if this were a game of freeze-tag," she shot a look in Quagmire's direction, "Death's just going to sulk and cry for the next hour and a half, and really, Cassius, what has this been for you but a temper tantrum several thousand millenia long? You have no sense of what you'll do if you get your way, no end game. You're like a two-year-old." Her eyes were cruel."

Cassius nearly started screaming when Maisie spoke to her. All that came out was a gagging noise, as if she were about to vomit. The rage in her system was consuming her every synapse as she struggled to form words. Finally, she spoke, "You insufferable intumescence that dares to claim status among the great ones! You corpse fit for hounds! You came late into a universe you cannot possibly understand, none of you could possibly appreciate!! You are a young and inexperienced child, and you have no sense of what it is like to lose your world and be punished for mourning! Not one person in here knows what I have been through and not one person here can claim more providence than me! You all want to keep this abomination running for your own self-serving reasons but just because you stitched it together out of the pieces of my home that you had left after destroying the rest doesn't mean that you have any right to it, any rule over it! The arrogance, the sheer pompous arrogance..." It was at this point that she started sputtering, and her words lost all comprehension. She was spent vocally, but her posture and movement betrayed the furnace still burning inside.

Margaret "Maisie" shuddered and shook like a child first experiencing thunder. Her face felt hot like it had been pressed against an iron, and she felt boiling tears stream from her eyes. She was sure she looked weak, but the reaction was beyond her control. She felt a fear and shame that she had never felt before. She wanted to crawl away and hide forever in a nest back on earth.

Danse Mors test

Danse Mors self-consciously folds his arms to hide the crude marks. He was not ashamed at his scars, but at the perpetrator of them. His host was so obsessed with Death and yet when he came to call, he changed his mind. Yet another pet peeve about humans that irked him so was their inconsistency. A sentence in Limbo would teach that little snot a lesson. How he missed Limbo, the sweet middle of nothingness and something-ness and the respect given to him by its mournful residents. He acknowledged Cassius’ attempt at being civil, to keep herself free.

However as Maisie opens her mouth to berate them, Danse was struck with rage. He opened his mouth to spit venom but Cassius had taken the challenge and with vigor. One had to be impressed that despite the imprisonment and emaciation, the goddess had not lost her bite. He stood up, bringing himself to his full height as Cassius devolved into sputtering hysterics. He leaned over towards Maisie, casting a long shadow over the crying goddess. With a twisted smile, he spoke, “You may find it effortless to be in these meat sacks, little magpie, but not everyone here can contain their magnanimous power into a form so weak and small,” He reached out to lift her chin so that she could not hide from him. “I hardly think you a god at all, more a manifestation of a human’s suffering; a coping mechanism. Try to be a little considerate then, shall you, for gods that knew a time of great silence,”

He turned away from Maisie, leaving her to her tears. He looked to Quagmire, appreciating, for once, his point of view. “You’re lucky you reacted so well to your own origin, if we can even call it that… But for some, it was traumatic. And for a few, the creation of the universe continues to aggravate that trauma. I know you can’t understand that; the emotional implications of life but don’t discount its place,” Danse surprised himself with his own sense of calm but Quagmire’s exposition had stirred something deep within. It took him a moment to name it but once he did, he saw it as guilt. He could still remember the blotches, the unformed space, and the suffocation. The relentless stirring of some unnamed thing, he couldn’t stand it and so he didn’t; he fought against it; sought to end it. And somehow he did; took something into nothing but as he did, it felt like an explosion, a growing awareness of more things. The more he ended, the more began. Even now, he wondered if he was not accidently responsible for creation. When humans spoke of the Big Bang, he felt an eternal pang of guilt.

Margaret "Maisie" could feel it start. A biological defense mechanism. She started to fold into her own mind. She couldn't have stopped it if she wanted to, but at the moment she was happy to be leaving the situation. It was effortless; her face went slack and her eyes averted and her emotions were cut off at the nerve root.

Cassius was choking on her own words. She couldn't even think anymore. All that came was a welling up of the same pride and loss that had always been there, and it was castrated now, robbed of all power and vitriol by her outburst. She felt spent. Death was wrong about one thing. Maisie wasn't the only one who had become accustomed to her body. How long had Cassius looked down at these same hands? How many times had she seen this ghastly face in a mirror? How long ago had she started considering it her own?

Danse Mors looked back at Cassius for some support, hoping in vain that she recovered herself. Instead he got a blank stare; one of introspection. Maisie was struck down as well. He sighed. It seemed like everyone he touched came down with that same blank stare. Danse could hardly be blamed. The end always seemed to cause others to look back. He snapped his fingers quickly, searching for the barista. He needed another jolt to his system. His outbursts were leaving him exhausted. "Oy!" he said. Yet she was nowhere to be found. He left the others to hunt down caffeine.