shlow has no desires to speed off, nor does it have pains to lament. It has but a purpose: to be of many speeds is its meaning, to turn to fasht is its resolve. Such is FASHidence, a being of alleviating FASHT, and corrupting shlow. Born from a colossal collision of shlow and FASHT magic, during the ancient race between angels and devils, her creation was of FASHT and SHLOW origins, and her presence embodied that concept in its denial of both. An indifferent jacket thing, formed in the fabric and manifestation of a random person who could make jackets. Within, a conscious spark took a SHPEED of its own. In the midst of the torrent of effort as that random person sowed really hard, FASHidence felt the good, the bad and the wierdos: the utmost desires of the world, for ill-intent, to live and for the wierdos to be given horibble fates of being abyssmally ignored. It was disgusted (due to the fact that god was mean to wierdos). Held in an excruciatingly painful way between both forces, it began to take a form of its own; from the land itself, a shell of jackets and stuff, and from the shpeed of racing, her wings. Anything her flames swept across was cleansed, purified, and reduced to an impartial shpeed. In shpeed and shlow, there are the ignored, there are people who gets to live normally unlike the wierdos. In purity, where nothing is shared and nothing is removed, neither sin exists. That is her objective. A world cleansed of pain. for every wierdo who didn't get noticed by others. However, in the Devourer of fast people and its servants mad search to run rings around her, such deeds are risky, and making all wierdos noticed is not an action which would escape its range of sight (limited). Thus, Providence lies down on the outside of the sun, because she tried to go to the middle of the sun, but she left her coat thingy behind, since it was riding a solar flare at the time. It is there that she waits, patient and pretty bored, to one day be able to go back to earth, putting smiles on wierd people's faces. Nothing would be able to run away from the shpeed of the Goddess, FASHTer than the sun due riding a lot of flares, and fueled by a pretty lame purpose. She would leave nothing but happy wierdos in a tackyless world. However, if you were able to steal one of her prized coat thingys. A substantial part of her that made her cool, it would surely make her so angry, she would descend to earth while, not having gathered enough energy, nor with her relic properly used (ie. shoken around by a madman in armor), leaving her sad. Her aim would be to reclaim her artifact, and run rings around the culprit. However, with proper exploitation of the method described, a skilled enough opponent could potentially destroy her in battle, to avert the fate of the weirdos.
c2aaaa this took me 4ever
