Thumbnail for Judge Holden x Nope you’re too late I already died by wifiskeleton by Keeper

Judge Holden x Nope you’re too late I already died by wifiskeleton

Keeper

2m 50s364 words~2 min read
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[0:01]Whatever exists, he said, whatever in creation exists without my knowledge, exists without my consent.
[0:01]Only nature can enslave man, and only when the existence of each last entity is routed out and made to stand naked before him, will he be properly suzeran of the Earth.
[0:01]In order for it to be mine, nothing must be permitted to occur upon it save by my dispensation.
[0:01]The board floor slamming under the jack boots, and the fiddler's grinning hideously over their canted pieces.
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[0:01]Whatever exists, he said, whatever in creation exists without my knowledge, exists without my consent. He looked about at the dark forest in which they were bivouaced. He nodded toward the specimens he'd collected. These anonymous creatures, he said, may seem little or nothing in the world. Yet the smallest crumb can devour us. Any smallest thing beneath yon rock, beyond men's knowing. Only nature can enslave man, and only when the existence of each last entity is routed out and made to stand naked before him, will he be properly suzeran of the Earth. What's a suzeran? A keeper. A keeper or overlord. When I say keeper then. Because he is a special kind of keeper. A suzeran rules even where there are other rulers. His authority countermands local judgments. Toadvine spat. The judge placed his hand to the ground. He looked at his inquisitor. This is my plan, he said. And yet everywhere upon it are pockets of autonomous life. Autonomous. In order for it to be mine, nothing must be permitted to occur upon it save by my dispensation. And they are dancing. The board floor slamming under the jack boots, and the fiddler's grinning hideously over their canted pieces. Towering over them all is the judge, and he is naked dancing. His small feet lively and quick and now in double time and bowing to the ladies, huge and pale and hairless, like an enormous infant. He never sleeps, he says. He says he'll never die. He bows to the fiddlers and sachets backwards and throws back his head and laughs deep in his throat. And he is a great favorite the judge. He wafts his hat and the lunar dome of the skull passes pale under the lamps, and he swings about and takes possession of one of the fiddles. And he pierouettes and makes a pass, two passes, dancing and fiddling at once. His feet are light and nimble. He never sleeps. He says that he will never die. He dances in light and in shadow, and he is a great favorite. He never sleeps, the judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die.

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