The Beauty of Violence

[Nox]

Visceral clips of a brutal fight spread across the internet.  Gore added for special affected made it all the more surreal.  That was the first edit.

A second video made the scene with the first fight -- same guy being bloodily beaten except this time he's winning and flinging the much larger fighter across the caged area with ease.

A third video reemerged from the depts of the internet when a connection was made.  A low watch count of a burlesque show of the insestual Egyptian love story between twin gods.  Comments connecting the three videos pulled it from the depths and the view count rose... "Was this the same man?"

The program billet for Kallisti showcased a new show -- The story of Hades and Persephone -- the name Nox scribbled across the billet with the other stage names.  

The connections were made and collage videos emerged.  The fights and the dance merging together to form horrific scenes of the uses of power.  Others edited music and pushed the beauty of the power.  It was a war of violence and beauty from both sides of the line.  Those for the channelers -- those against them.  

But the one thing it did was boost sales of online tickets for Kallisti opening Night!  

---

Nut/Ged Love Story - Both Fights sequences here - Opening Night Kallisti

[Nox]

Times had fucking changed. Growing up on the road, reading actual paper books and the real fucking newspaper not this online shit they had these days. Or worse yet the fucking amateur news applied by john dick and harry over there. The world went to shit. The gods were fucking reborn and the world fucking knew about it. It was no wonder the world was fucked as it is now.

Jacob grumbled to himself as he flicked through image and video, one after the other reading the headlines like he always did. Every morning. It was his job to keep even this shitty world in one piece, and there was no shortage of work in the back waters of the United States of America. What had been refined and good was now the armpit of the world. How Russia became the shit only the fucking Gods knew... quite literally!

Jacob scratched at the dragon snaked around itself biting it's tail on his left forearm. The old tattoo still his calling card after all these fucking years.

There was so much proof the gods had reemerged on the internet these days he almost missed the familiar face until the video that scrolled past froze on a perfect frame -- sure he was older. Looked more like his father than he remembered, but he remembered that face. That kid was a fucking brat, but at least he knew the job. Was good at the job despite what Bryan said about him. It had been a long time since he'd spoken to Bryan. Jacob wondered how the hell the kid was doing. It was about time he checked in on him.

All thought of reunion fled once Jacob clicked through the video and watched the events that unfolded. He stared slack jawed at the images. There were no words for the sight. But there was no hesitation either. He tapped a few screens on his wallet and booked a flight to Moscow. He couldn't believe he was going to Russia. Fucking Russia. But he owed it to Bryan. Owed it to be the one to end his son's life. And end the life of all those genetically capable of siring such an offspring. This was the worst day of his fucking life.