Ragnarok Law

Proverb I ~ "Love Is A Cure For Wellness." DO NOT DISMISS ALL DOUBT, REGARDLESS OF REASON OR RECOGNITION!

(AH-SHAH)

(AH-ZHA)

(EE-ZAI-LO-FELL-VEE-NEE)

(EE-VEE-YET)

(EE-YAWN-CO)

Part I

I stood in the middle of our sacred church. The historical relic of an ax was sheathed in into the symbolized painted concrete with it's long glyph embedded handle standing erect in front of me.

Kneeling on the circular slab in front of The Ragnarok Steel was the epidemy of the filthiest trash to walk on two legs. By betraying the family's trust and blaspheming against The Proverb Law, it was simply a matter of short time that he would have to face the judgement of The Law. His pure selfishness lead to the slaughter of 59 of our family members and even the rape of one of Our Beloved Mothers. Upon this discovery, not only was death permitted, but the act there of was a drawn out sequence of agony until our victimized Beloved Mother was satisfied. Torture and terror was creatively performed until the date was decided. Even then, having a date chosen for later rather than sooner was not uncommon.

As for this pathetic garbage grown shit kicker, our victimized Beloved Mother became pregnant from the attack. Being the esteemed woman that she is, however, Our Beloved Mother decided to keep the bastard child and be greater than normal circumstances would have allowed.

The traitor's execution date was chosen for the day that Our Beloved Mother's child's earth birth. So that meant for nine months was the traitor a raw canvas for the most imaginative of agonies. The various scars and scabs all over his body was too varied to list. I can guarantee that the face under the heavy burlap sack secured around the traitor's neck would be unrecognizable compared to the many months ago.

There were members in black sitting sparingly throughout the twenty levels of high rise pews surrounding The Top Floor, the designed concrete I am grateful to be standing on. The rainbow of attitudes portrayed by the awaiting witnesses looking down at me with respect and expectation. From the front row to the nosebleed seats, the bundle of men and women sprinkled throughout had their feet kicked up during casual conversations, setting up pads and recording devices, and even reading books and newspapers with their preferable cups of tea or coffee.

Despite the display of colors in the wait, my attention was to my zero at the front row, in front of the traitor, The Ragnarok Steel, and myself.

She sat there with her long dark legs crossed and poking thru the over-sized tiger skinned coat. Her snow colored stilettos matched the white of the fur and the back of her locks. The middle aged woman's eyes are the gray of metal, and her gaze as sharp as the weapons formed from it. That cutting gaze is sword fighting with my own sharp stare, a mere exhibition of attentiveness.

This one woman surpassed expectations thought impossible for someone with her beginning. A petty thief from Zaire that escaped her war torn country via cargo ship stow away to a South American dock yard. A new territory she had no factual knowledge of meant a new strategy was necessary for survival and profit, a lesson she learned sooner than later. Between getting beaten until her leg and ribs were broken without proper medical help and being thrown in an adult jail for an entire year when only twelve, pick-pocketing and petty theft no longer aided her survival efficiently.

While incarcerated, she met three very particular individuals opened a new avenue of crime and strategy for the young girl. An avenue it didn't take a sinking second for her to not only follow, but also become a notoriously dangerous expert on this path.

After freeing her comrades, an escape plan that ended with the facility being blown back to nature, they went on a tear of infamy. Car flipping and bank robbing to kidnapping and murder-for-hire, it was inevitable that the gang would be scouted by The Ragnarok Law Mafia. Seeing as how they knowingly tried to knock over one of The Law's armored transport vehicles.

The craziest part is that by all recorded accounts, they did it on purpose by her command.

One myth told set her metallic sights on the facts behind the fiction, testing the tale by attacking one of the fabled "Brick Shippers." Apparently, there was so much money in them, the transport vehicles couldn't travel up hills.

Once she and her gang took the decree, her rise became that much more historic. Stepping up her skills and rank in record time, she eventually earned the title of "GIMP," or Grim Reaper in layman's terms.

Now that her credentials stacked and seasoned, she is able to relax in luxury and leisure.

Presently, she sits as one of Our Beloved Mothers, Aaja Exodia.

Second to such, Aaja Exodia is my bio-bred mother, so expectations were high from B'Earth.

Now I'm on The Top Floor, one of the biggest stages The Law has to offer. Allowing me to announce my chosen path and showcasing my mindset and integrity, with my own mother, one of Our Beloved Mothers, sitting in wait and watching with higher expectations than The Proverb itself.

If I were to speak that into reality, she'd probably smack my tongue with a hot metal spoon. All for the sake of keeping my reputation pure and discipline for speaking against the word.

A loud silence washed over the lively room as the handles of the thick fifteen feet double doors to The Rapture Circumference, The Top Floor glyphed beneath my boots and above my ethics respectively. Once the rosewood doors began to part, every colorful personality stood to their feet with a cold attention. Everyone erect in the rising pews withdrew a multitude of compact guns from the seams of their trousers, holsters under coats and inside of bags, loading barrels and cocking hammers.

The handles of the entrance or the obnoxious creek of the rotating hinges were not by any means loud enough to notice, all the commotion within the church easily masked the material vibrato. It's almost a self made instinct to feel the presence of one of our Grand Authority whenever they are entering a place occupied by their Prodigal Family, my bio-bred mother was also offered the prestigious greeting. The variety of death in the spectators' clutches is mandatory when welcoming a Grand Authority, a defense strategy to be loaded and prepared if of The Law's rulers required immediate protection or a kill order is given to be carried out on the spot.

Surrounded by four GIMPs to her north, south, east and west, Our Beloved Mother Yzylophelvini Arterton suavely strutted into the high rise church.

This isn't just the divinity of The Law's Solstice 66, or The Sics Six Six, Our Family's conglomerate of Beloved Mothers. This maturely alluring bronze skinned madame is the pinnacle of The Law's Motherhood and half of The God Authority.

Our Godmother Zephoné.