The old gods

"It's finally July" the porcelain turtle masked man striated sharply.

"yes, the month the dragon goes silent." quoted the iron red fox masked man.

"yes... the dragon goes silent for reasons I have long forgotten, or maybe never knew," the second oldest wooden masked serpent uttered.

"thee," the clock faced automaton announced quietly.

"maybe he meditates to the thoughts of booze" the turtle suggested in his bitter tone.

The old scaled masked dragon just watched, observing silently.

" Maybe he wants to let me, the most interesting, have spotlight," the iron fox recommended. stare, stare, stare, stare, and stare. observation is all the dragon will do in the short month of July. "He might be remembering all he has forgotten" the wooden man interjected.

His eyes are the black mirrors of intellectual eyes. they radiate with the knowledge of many, but are not full of self loathing.

"Seven" croaks the old clockwork automaton.

"he is transfixed on the bodies young women" the porcelain turtle exhibited.

His scales are pigmented yellow, and shine with the fire of billions of hopes and cries for freedom.

"He is boring in comparison to me, and is taking time to appreciate my slick iron" the fox confidently projected onto his brethren.

The yellow dragon observed him from his spot in the circle of brothers.

" He must be in concentration about the actions of his past," the wooden brother contorted.

"eleven" the rusty non generic mechanical voice announced again, but this eleven is different from the other eleven, and the other, and the other.

The dragon seemingly not intelligible to the conversation at hand patiently waited with never fading ease.

"He is creating the next disaster, hand crafted with a set number of death," The marsh green turtle implied.

His jet talons gleamed in the lightness of the dark infinity sun.

" He has lost his will be be near my radiating slim and sleek features, and needs time to recollect" the iron fox imposed.

"He is fearing the inevitability of his end" The beige wooden masked man said in his decaying wise tone.

twenty-four" The mechanical automaton said lifelessly. it is with no spirit , but it has the soul.

The dragon almost reaching a time to break the silence, waited with enough patience to see the end of the dark indefinite sun and all of it's inhabitants.

"His time of stewing in lustfulness is almost over" the old turtle said in the bitter tone of an abandoned child.

"His time of recovery from envy is almost done," the iron fox said in a tone close to excitement.

" My brother is returning once again," the beige masked brother said in a tone only describable as great admiration.

"one" The mechanical being announced once again.

"fools." was the first word the dragon spoke "you are all fools," His disappointed tone pierced his brothers souls.

" I am merely observing, I am nearing the end of my cycle, and this is how you act when i am merely silent"

"you all are influencing, and this is how you, beings of a billion years, choose to influence.

"you, the youngest, the porciline turtle, you are influencing all the bitter ones all the lustful ones.Do you want to force hatred onto those who cannot learn the beauty of life To achieve the calm you must forgive, you must look over the mountain, instead of focusing on the village stuck in the valley"

"you, the fourth, the iron fox, you are influences for all that are greedy, and self focused. For you to outgrow this egomania, you must let the outside be seen for what it is, for all iron shall rust, and you shall become red with it as well,"

"you the automaton, you are the influence of those who follow the same cycle, the same day over and over again. you have the soul, but you suppress the urge to flex this soul onto the outside. You must break the form of this endless clockwork day."

" And you, the wood serpent, you are the influence of all that is forgetting, you are the silent sufferer, not remembering the days long behind, you admire the ones that can foresee their own past that has not yet been muddled by time. For you, there is no breaking point, but you must make every day count and enjoy every second of your new present, soon to be muddled by time again."

"Brothers, you have seen my many colors, but yellow is the last. My scales will blacken and turn to dust. all that will be left in this indefinite room will be you and my bones. I cannot foresee the future, but will you change or will the world be thrown into chaos?"