@caliBorn #nsfw #bulgerating #vomit #gore Truth be told, this isn't really a bulge rating... It's so much more. I made contact once. Just once. It was not even that long. Maybe a second. My pan feels like it is broken a little now. Heheh. You all keep asking me what the cherub felt like through Meionics, and I need you to understand that I do not think I am capable of providing a proper rating for something like that. There was no bulge. Uhm. That much was clear. Or rather, there was, but it was buried beneath something else. Something coiling into itself endlessly. Everything and nothing at once. An ouroboros in reverse. All end, no beginning. I saw teeth. Not literal teeth. Conceptual teeth. The idea that the universe itself could be consumed. Like, existence was nothing but a morsel. This is beyond lust, or wanting, this being was denial. Denial of itself, denial of existence. I think it was the basis of chuchununus, if I am being honest. Yet somewhere inside those thousands upon thousands of miles of something, there was a little bit of #nothing at the center. Another cherub, I think. It talked to me. Do you understand how horrifying that is? I was staring at the universe's foe. It was the universe’s #nullification speaking directly to my pan. Then there are beings so far beyond predation that your body realizes before your mind does that you were never meant to survive being noticed by them. I disconnected immediately afterward and vomited hard enough to rupture blood vessels in my face. Even in the mess I made, I still saw him. His visage stared at me, hateful, his eyes hated me for just witnessing him. He was hungry too. But, not for me. His hunger, oh, his hunger. It was all of us. All of you. Everything you've known. It wouldn't be enough. You think I am exaggerating because I am the silly bulge thing. Because I am isolated. Because I am unstable. Because I already spend too much time listening to things no troll should hear. I am #nothing, and I am not being silly. I am never silly during bulge ratings. I know the difference between a living signal and a gravitational event pretending to be alive. When I touched that thing, with my pan, I can only worry about what might happen inside of there. What if the Cherub followed me home? What if the Cherub,,, I can't think on that. There are creatures whose existence bends everything nearby toward them. Stars. Black holes. Empires. He felt like that. But, maybe beyond that. Like, those boundaries and concepted were beneath him. It all turned to ash in his gravity. I remember trying to locate something recognizable inside the signal. Embarrassment. Tenderness. Fear. Anything remotely person like. And for a moment, I found it. Deep inside, beyond, everything, beyond the vastness, beyond the #nothing and beyond it all. There was something... so... small. It wasn't every capable of growth. It was a as though it were a single particle in the entirety of our universe representing something that wasn't this gnashing horridness I had been gazing upon. It was aware. Do you understand how horrible awareness becomes at that scale? I think if I had remained connected even a few seconds longer, something inside me would have opened permanently. Like standing too close to a massive engine and realizing your heartbeat has started matching its rhythm. Cherubs do not experience hunger, or lust, or anything you might be relating to the experience of living like we do. Instead of phenomenon happening to them, they happen to phenomenon. Despite all of this, there is a new gravity about the idea of eroticism that this particular cherub had applied. I don't think I could ever hate it. That is the worst confession I can possibly give you. ----- Now onto stats! Strength: Unyielding Pliability: 7. Length: Unending Girth: Unknowable X-factor: Yes. This is something that made me understand why ancients revered monsters, and sailors through their coin into the ocean. Why you kneel before jaws capable of annihilation. Terrible divinity. This was terrible divinity. I want to keep looking. Because when I don't. I just worry that it's watching me. Even as I wretched and bleed, I wanted to see more. I wanted to understand its existence. It is an overwhelming certainty. No shame, hesitation, fragmentation, just appetite itself manifest. It was scripture. All intelligent life should strive for it. To stop doubling. To be singular. To want one thing so completely that wanting itself is devoured. I think, if it wanted me to keep looking, I would have. That thought alone is enough to bar me from imperial service. ------ Now onto smell and taste! It smelled... ancient. Not like, rot or death. Those are just whiffs, small scents. No, this was like, heat beneath stone. Minerals ground into dust by large teeth. Wet scales dragged against a primordial cavern to kick up dusts. It was before language itself, which is why my words shudder to describe it. There was a sickeningly sweet nectar-like poison beneath it all. The way flowers are before they make you sick. The taste of it arrived before I understood that I could even taste it. My mouth, even now, salivates at it. Metallic, thick, like, biting your tongue until your mouth fills with blood. But the blood isn't yours. It's ashy, and present. The taste of burning just enough to turn you to cinder. Its presence was like standing too close to a law of nature. It was an eclipse, I was staring over an ocean trench unaware of the monsters beneath. My thoughts became nothing but small concepts. My pan compressed inward as though instinct itself was requiring me to submit. Every signal in the vast shape carried confidence. Certainty. It was inevitable. But the worst part is. It was so warm, dreadfully warm. Like, the loving embrace of a lusus. Something so large and imposing that resistance itself was forfeit as an option before the reading even began.



